Drunken Medal of Spirit

(pun intended)

The "Drunken Medal of Spirit" honours those who, having engaged in the Bacchanalian rites, put forth those comments about which mere mortals can only fantasize.

The inaugural recipient of the Medal goes to Mr. Yakko, for his distinguished performance tonight. Yakko, after ten grueling hours of Bacchanalia, staggered over to Mrs. Elizabeth Mapp-Flint, threw his arm around her shoulders (thus thoroughly violating her personal space as they are not in the least friendly), and asked if she was leaving. Upon being told that she would not be staying to join in his revelry, he looked her square in the eye and declared, "You're just a candy ass."

Raise your hand if you haven't wanted to say that to Mrs. Mapp-Flint at some point in time.

Yeah, didn't think there would be any upraised hands on that one.

Ventriloquist Nightmare: Vote Now!

This represents an important phase in the development of my fantasy football team, and your vote is urgently needed. Be a part of the process that is getting me to actually participate in fantasy football for the first time ever (if you don't count last year's Montana Lottery Fantasy Football follies).

People, help me out! After much (silly) deliberation on (not-at-all serious) team name titles, the lovely LaVonda suggested "Ventriloquist Nightmare". That was just too good to pass by, so away I went. Now the catch. I simply cannot abide the default non-logo, and must substitute my own. That being said, I'm throwing it open to a vote. The poll gadget on this site appears to be sufficiently lame as to not allow visual images, so we're going old-school call-and-response style.

(Speaking of old-school, did anyone else see the news today about atms in East London soon functioning in Cockney Rhyming Schemes? How sweet is that?!? Instead of accessing your card, the machine will now access your bladder of lard. Awesome!)

Here are your options:

Option A

Option B

Option C

Vote early! Vote often! Just vote! Do not leave this up to me. I'll take off at a left angle, as always, and that isn't always a pretty sight. You've been warned.

Kilts and Dog Collars: Ways to Clear a Bar Quickly #s 3 & 4

Why stop with just one way to clear a bar quickly when you could have two on the same day?


Ways to Clear a Bar Quickly #3
The Albeni Falls Pipe and Drum Band participated in today's Huckleberry Festival events, which involved men in kilts. Men, in kilts, who dared venture into the Wayside, whilst still wearing said kilts. All anyone heard at first was, "Baroness, Baroness, No! No! Baroness! No, Baroness! Uh oh. Someone help the man in the skirt get away from the Baroness, please." Yeah, she was curious and decided it was time to answer the age-old question for herself. Poor guy.

This led, somewhat understandably, to an earnest conversation about the potential efficacy of an electric dog shock collar for modifying and controlling the Baroness' behaviour. Oddly enough, there were none who thought this would be a cruel idea. Everyone polled was vastly in favour of the idea; of course, they also wanted possession of the trigger mechanism.


Ways to Clear a Bar Quickly #4
Did you know that a frozen shrimp tail barb can penetrate the human thumb quite easily? To a depth of an eighth of an inch?

If you want to clear a bar quickly, or at least the kitchen, start asking around for a wickedly sharp, yet thin-tipped knife. Almost everyone in the bar will have a knife, but they'll also want to know why you need to borrow their knife. Then you get to explain that you would like to cut a shrimp barb out of your thumb. Suddenly you'll find yourself surrounded by a pile of rather nice pocket- and hunting knives, but utterly abandoned to your grisly task. At least it was the thumb in which I have very little feeling on the best of days. The knife I went with was a hunting knife, extremely sharp, and well-balanced. The incision itself is an eighth of an inch deep by a quarter of an inch long, but really only two or three millimeters wide. Like I said, a wonderfully sharp knife. Of all the days for me to not have one of my own knives in my pocket.


To cap off the evening, the Baroness provided some sage advice to Dot. Dot burst through the kitchen door doing a "spider in my shirt" dance, though the cause was not a spider, but rather, "A creepy guy just touched my arm." The Baroness merely shrugged and said, "You'll get accustomed to it."

Glass Houses (and all related jazz)

The Background

Doing laundry yesterday morning involved putting up with a running dialogue about the "backwoods-ness" of Trout Creek that was taking place between a youngish couple passing through on their way home to South Dakota. Not just South Dakota, but Gary, South Dakota (population 231). The couple in question? They were the real life models for Meg and Hamilton Swan - the obnoxious, awful preppy couple - in the film Best in Show. I was a very good girl, however, and held my retorts in check all morning long.

Today, or, "How It Went Down"

I was sitting at the bar shortly after opening this morning, making out a prep list for the Baroness when in walked the terrible two-some, aka, Meg and Hamilton.

Meg: "What do you think they have for a soup today?"

Hamilton: "I don't know, probably Campbell's Chicken Noodle. Oh! Look, another poster for "The Tempest". I bet it's popular here because it's an eighteenth century Poseidon Adventure."

Meg: "Likely, but they would have to get Jeff Foxworthy to rewrite the script for them so that they would maybe be able to follow the story. Excuse me, what's the soup?"

Oh, yeah, it was war.

My reply: "If I may, "The Tempest" is completely unlike The Poseidon Adventure, or to be temporally accurate, the inverse is true, but the point remains. Likewise, you're off on the century; the play was actually written in the very early seventeenth century. Also, we prefer our Shakespearean plays in their intended meter and form, in this case neoclassical structures expressed in iambic pentameter verse. The redneck-speak version must be a South Dakota thing. As to your question, today's soup is Italian Sausage and Cheese Tortellini. Would you like a drink?"

Huh ... they left.

Then Violet Newstead (after Lily Tomlin's unflappable character in the film 9 to 5) said: "I take it they were friends of yours? Too bad they had to leave so soon. That could have been fun." This was followed by a muttered, "Jerks."

Trout Creek may only be an unincorporated census-designated place, but if you are from Gary, South Dakota, should you really be thinking that you have that much room to throw stones?!?