Snowed-In Sunday

We have dug out the drive. We now have martinis. Dan’s in the bath. I’m watching this on Netflix:

I’m reminded once Daryl said something about digging when he gets mad. So I’m thinking of Daryl. And Cindy. And y’all.

Headline of the day

Half-naked woman, 28, ‘flees scene of DUI crash at her trailer park home in child’s battery-operated toy truck’

Thousands of litres of whisky flushed down drain in Dumbarton

chivas

A statement said: “We are currently investigating an accidental loss on the 26th of February at our Dumbarton site, where some spirit was released to the local water treatment plant.

“There has been no release of spirit to the River Leven or any other local water course. We have informed Scottish Water and all other relevant authorities.”

My Hair is Layed Like an Ethereal Piece of Chinese Connie Chung

Thanks Nico

Old Gregg

It’s time to revisit The Mighty Boosh once again. NSFW unless you work someplace way cooler than most of us do.

Greetings from Rockton

c’flock in the foreground, disney in the mid-ground, qwirkle in the farground.

the web guy thanks you

Rick was nice enough to deliver a couple of bottles of Laphroaig to me for battling back the hackers. Thanks to all who contributed.

Who’s Watchin’ the Debate?

Jus’ askin’. And riskin’ my life with apostrophes. (Cindy?) Chime in, y’all.

If a Comment Falls on C’Flock…

Will it make a sound?

Wedding Moment…

I’ll leave you to complete the story.

The United Typothetae of America (and Its Future)

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

They were what you might call a guild of master printers.

On September 27, 1900, they pondered their future and they et. They started off with Blue Points, a splash of sherry, something called Essence of White Sage Hen, olives, salted almonds, and celery. Then turbans of black bass, sliced cucumbers, and potatoes marquises. And/or diamondback terrapin (in case). And/or lamp chops with asparagus tips. (And Parisian potatoes!) Washed down with various 1884 Sauternes.

There was an interval of sherbet crème de menthe (to cleanse the palate?) and cigarettes, followed by roast stuffed quail (imperiale) with corn cake and guava jelly. Plus lettuce and tomato, filled with celery and mayonnaise. A gulp or so of Moët & Chandon.

Ice cream (en surprise) and assorted cakes for afters. A cheese course of Roquefort cheese and “saline wafers.” And a wee nip of Chartreuse. Topped off by café noir and cigars.

(From the wonderful NYPL Menu Collection.)

quote out of context

If you can’t tell whether you’re actually in a negative situation or just an ungrateful person who blames everyone else for your problems, drink.

If you suspect you might not even have much reason to be unhappy and in fact just overthink everything and lack a stable internal compass, drink.

If you think you might just feel lost because you drink too often, but then you think too much when you aren’t drinking, cry.

Elephant in the Room

My heart is broke. Thank you Sheila, Joel, MGS and others for trying. I miss all y’all and the y’all who no longer show up here. I know life goes on. Folks move on. It’s all good. I guess. Still, for the record, I miss. XOR

image out of context

headline of the day

Coroner: Artist Kinkade death an accident, from overdose of alcohol, Valium

WANTED: Crown Royal purple bags 1 liter

Posted to the Dubuque Freecycle list:

We need the Crown Royal purple 1 liter bags. Does anyone have any to give away? Thanks.

cumberland

At the time, the company I worked for was small and close-knit. A group of us were organizing a ski trip up in Deep Creek, Maryland. Split into cars, we agreed to leave the office early Friday afternoon in order to make it before dark.

The snow started in the late morning and got heavier. The first car left, then the second. I was riding with a coworker who I was friendly with, but not friends. His wife and sister filled out the remainder. By late afternoon, skidding along I-68 in his Audi, we knew we wouldn’t make it to Deep Creek.

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from the comments — dueling banjos edition

Amanda Mae Meyncke:

That day eludes me, the specifics of it. I find myself sleepy after a single glass of whiskey now, so I struggle to recall what strange elixirs and potions we whipped up and slung down for hour upon endless hour. A warm sort of hazy summer day. I remember wild tea vodka and orange juice, champagne and beers, sobering up slightly in the afternoon but not for long.

It literally seems impossible now, and I think it must have been a very very specific sort of order, some magical combination at a macrobiotic level that lead us like a guiding light. A gentle hand outstretched that never became a pounding hateful fist. I woke up ready to do it again. I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.

Carole Corlew:

Cumberland is beautiful, in the mountains of western Maryland where it can be very cold even in May and early June. Of course “very cold” is subjective and some might not agree. Midwesterners, specifically.

I was living in Baltimore when I needed to visit a Cumberland newspaper editor. I called early that morning to check on conditions and the editor said, “The weather is great, come on up.” It started sleeting, then snowing as my car began the ascent. I was barely out of Alabama at that point and thought I surely would not survive.

We celebrated my survival with lunch at “the town’s best restaurant,” the bowling alley. It was quite good!

Despair

From Fassbinder’s Warnung vor einer heiligen Nutte (Beware of a Holy Whore)

Recommended: Both the film and the activity encouraged by Ray Charles in this scene.

Let’s go get stoned.

dueling banjos

dear clusterflock

How do I feel about this SOTU?

headline of the day

Couple caught trying to blow up car with flaming TAMPONS

Fairies of Christmas Passed…Deconstructed

The Blue Fairies laid on the table from the tree en masse. These were created by a former greensman employee three or four years ago. I remember, as he made them, into a box-top in the backroom of the greensman offices, I entered the room he was working in. He said, as he shook the boxtop, “Look, they live! ” He giggled and grinned a grin somewhere between the grinch and the baby jesus. That vision will forever live in my heart.

Harry Potter and the New Year at Hand

Just finished the marathon, a little while ago. Potter was Becky’s call, her birthday is the 31st. Doing such over New Year’s eve/day has been a tradition for four or five years. Potter won. In case you wonder. Ho-hum.

We said good-bye to our guests and watched an episode of The Riches. Only 20 episodes to watch, but it is delicious.

I don’t know what to expect of 2012, but I hope to lift my ass off the couch and start moving around tomorrow.

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