King Sisyphus existed in Greek mythology.
According to legend.....this gent was quite the rascal and the "gods" therefore sentenced him to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill. Before he could reach the top, however, the massive stone would always roll back down, forcing him to begin again. The maddening nature of the punishment was to be an example for those lacking in tolerance and patience, no doubt?
This day, the ole fat boy and his child bride ventured to the "Greek" mythological land of "Joe's Crab Shack" and feasted therein on....well...crab.
Interesting adventure. First they bring ya "tools"....Oh hell yeah...what manly man would not want "tools"?
Then they brought a humongous "bib"??? OK...was there gonna be a hawg guttin'....or what????
Then the cretins of sick humor bring out a gigantic TUB of boiled/spiced crab and say with a lecherous smile, "All yall dig in"?
Well duh....They give ya got hammers, picks, pliers, and more "tools" than a New York butcher shop so "dig in" is kinda suggestive of "what"???
So...the ranch hand and the Gorgeous One...just started hammerin', sawin', mashin', GNAWING on that pile of crustacean like we was old pros.
Bottom line...we ended up with it in our hair, on our face, covering our glasses...in our laps, on the chairs (and likely the ceiling).
Sisyphus...we feel your pain dude...just be glad they didn't give ya eternity to crack open crabs?????
Monday, March 18, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
And Then There Was One (SOB!)
Where breathes the soul
At least if alive
Who does not worship
505.
It's ethereal goodness
Is beyond compare
The taste, the fragrance
Well...just beware.
Sister "C" is the junkie
Who smuggles that narcotic rare
From its NM home amid mountain air
Nor meth...or crank...or cocaine
Do it be
But the deliciously ubiquitous
GREEN CHILE!
Fresh from Hatch
The town of renown
Where them grand hot peppers
Wear the kingdom crown.
Last visit from sister
That Saint brung two large jars of Heaven
(Still wonderin' why it wasn't SEVEN?)
One jar down
And one jar to go
Already wonderin' if sis
Will bring bro mo'???
Gotta love it
(and my baby sister)
At least if alive
Who does not worship
505.
It's ethereal goodness
Is beyond compare
The taste, the fragrance
Well...just beware.
Sister "C" is the junkie
Who smuggles that narcotic rare
From its NM home amid mountain air
Nor meth...or crank...or cocaine
Do it be
But the deliciously ubiquitous
GREEN CHILE!
Fresh from Hatch
The town of renown
Where them grand hot peppers
Wear the kingdom crown.
Last visit from sister
That Saint brung two large jars of Heaven
(Still wonderin' why it wasn't SEVEN?)
One jar down
And one jar to go
Already wonderin' if sis
Will bring bro mo'???
Gotta love it
(and my baby sister)
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Simple Pleasures
The best things in life are most often the simple pleasures.
Ain't much way to beat a good peach cobbler for soul satisfying "pleasure".
Yesterday last...the ole fat boy burned down some lovingly aged ranch oak firewood into chunks of flavorlicious coals.
Greased up the Tin Star cast iron dutch oven with the requisite lard....loaded that puppy with slice peaches, yellow cake mix, a stick of unsalted butter...and pixie dusted that "piece de resistance" with culinary quality cinnamon magic.
Plopped on the lid....loaded the cherry red oak coals over/under the cobbler delivery device....and simply vegged in blissful silence for 30 minutes while smelling the sweet flowery odiferous waft of peachy cinnamon goodness stewing within.
Hooeeee dawgeee...that stuff was slurp-i-li-shus wunnerful to this old man's taste buds when peeled outa the pan!!!!
Ain't much way to beat a good peach cobbler for soul satisfying "pleasure".
Yesterday last...the ole fat boy burned down some lovingly aged ranch oak firewood into chunks of flavorlicious coals.
Greased up the Tin Star cast iron dutch oven with the requisite lard....loaded that puppy with slice peaches, yellow cake mix, a stick of unsalted butter...and pixie dusted that "piece de resistance" with culinary quality cinnamon magic.
Plopped on the lid....loaded the cherry red oak coals over/under the cobbler delivery device....and simply vegged in blissful silence for 30 minutes while smelling the sweet flowery odiferous waft of peachy cinnamon goodness stewing within.
Hooeeee dawgeee...that stuff was slurp-i-li-shus wunnerful to this old man's taste buds when peeled outa the pan!!!!
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Country Humor
Daddy Gene had a country funny bone that was beyond compare.
Something out of the ordinary and unexplainable would occur and he would judiciously announce to no one in particular, "Well, shit and two is eight". Number one (and only son) has never really figgered that 'un out, but it always seemed to make sense in the context of the moment when intoned by Dad??
If ya showed Daddy Gene your latest (EXPENSIVE) purchase that he thought was ridiculous...he would respond, "Cute".....in a way that more than conveyed his solemn belief that his onliest son was a dumass that provided a never ending source of humorous wonderment to him.
He'd start to tell one of his mos' fav-rite jokes...and would begin laughing so hard with copious tears streaming down his face that he could'nt get to the "punch line"....and son....having no clue where the "joke" was headed...inevitably became powerlessly "tickled" with the same tears of mirth falling.
The ole fat boy misses his Dad every single day. Many is the time Gene's boy has found a stump on the ranch, sat down, and had long talks with his Dad.
Damn, I miss ya....but know your country perverted brand of humor survives on the Tin Star to this day.
Something out of the ordinary and unexplainable would occur and he would judiciously announce to no one in particular, "Well, shit and two is eight". Number one (and only son) has never really figgered that 'un out, but it always seemed to make sense in the context of the moment when intoned by Dad??
If ya showed Daddy Gene your latest (EXPENSIVE) purchase that he thought was ridiculous...he would respond, "Cute".....in a way that more than conveyed his solemn belief that his onliest son was a dumass that provided a never ending source of humorous wonderment to him.
He'd start to tell one of his mos' fav-rite jokes...and would begin laughing so hard with copious tears streaming down his face that he could'nt get to the "punch line"....and son....having no clue where the "joke" was headed...inevitably became powerlessly "tickled" with the same tears of mirth falling.
The ole fat boy misses his Dad every single day. Many is the time Gene's boy has found a stump on the ranch, sat down, and had long talks with his Dad.
Damn, I miss ya....but know your country perverted brand of humor survives on the Tin Star to this day.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The Cowboy Way
Watching the Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, and Rin Tin Tin on channel seven on the black and white TV no doubt inspired the ranch hand to long admire the "cowboy" lifestyle.
The ole fat boy has never owned a horse and the ranch ain't even half vast, but that don't dilute appreciation of the genre.
Accordingly, the ranch accoutrements include a backyard "Rusty Spur Saloon"...and an outdoor covered kitchen dubbed, "The Chuck Wagon".
In an attempt to honor the "cookies" of the old west....yours truly has embarked on a culinary oddessy involving exploration of dutch oven cooking (biscuits, cobblers, and such), and disc harrow blade cooking (cowboy breakfast to beignets to fajitas to ??).
So far, the family/guests have been without complaint regarding the groceries.
The ranch hand jus' be grinnin' these days while sitting in the great outdoors, sippin' a cool adult beverage.....and smelling that superlicious grub on the oak fire coals.
Life is good!
The ole fat boy has never owned a horse and the ranch ain't even half vast, but that don't dilute appreciation of the genre.
Accordingly, the ranch accoutrements include a backyard "Rusty Spur Saloon"...and an outdoor covered kitchen dubbed, "The Chuck Wagon".
In an attempt to honor the "cookies" of the old west....yours truly has embarked on a culinary oddessy involving exploration of dutch oven cooking (biscuits, cobblers, and such), and disc harrow blade cooking (cowboy breakfast to beignets to fajitas to ??).
So far, the family/guests have been without complaint regarding the groceries.
The ranch hand jus' be grinnin' these days while sitting in the great outdoors, sippin' a cool adult beverage.....and smelling that superlicious grub on the oak fire coals.
Life is good!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)