A Digression Thread: or old furniture in a new house.

I'll bring the Red Cap:

I like white wine.



Does drinking it normally make your breath like old drains, or is that just drunks who use it?



I love G & T, but I am prone to treat it like a soft drink, and drink too much of it, since it tastes so un alcoholic. It is an immensely civilised drink...makes me feel all Rajish (which wasn't, of course, immensely civilised, but thought it was)

It makes some go on crying jags, though.


I also adore vodka straight from the freezer......love the way it makes your shot glass all frosty. I feel all Russian. I love the Zubrovka, with the grasss stem init, also.

I have never felt civilized the morning after a white wine binge -- but maybe that's just me

In college in California, I had four or five (deeply freakish) friends from Alaska. At least two of them told me about an Alaskan joke to play on outsiders, which is to keep grain alcohol in the deep freeze (which is to say, outdoors in the winter) and serve them to visitors as an Alaskan martini. The deep cold, they say, makes the alcohol impossible to taste, and the unsuspecting chap can be got to drink three or four of the flavorless concoctions within a few minutes with the right sort of manly encouragement/baiting. This, of course, renders the butt of the joke insensible if not unconscious.

Good times in Alaska.

I miss my Alaskan friends, but they all dropped out of college and went back to Alaska. Maybe there's something about life up there that I'm just not hep to....

I don't think, in all of my drunks, that there's ever been a drunk I could blame on white whine alone.

But if champagne is any indication -- I've had some wild nights and dismal mornings attributable to champagne, other libations, and merry company -- white wine may be a destroyer of all reasonable thought. For even the whiskey drinker is left with the whiskey burn to remind him, "I've been drinking, and so should exercise some degree of caution in the course of my casual decision-making)," whilst the white-wine drinker may sally forth into inebriated activity thinking they have merely had a mild afternoon tipple and are therefore capable of acting according to unguarded instinct when as a matter of fact all faculty for rational thought has been stolen away by the commercial followers of Dionysus (which is to say, the Ernest & Julio Gallo, who also manufacture one of the most disengenuously sweet burgundy jug wines in production) and they are caught out as drooling morons quite unawares.

This is a digression thread, isn't it?

Indeed.

Daddy has a Harbor Seal
That Seal is so uncouth!
When it mixes Dad's martini
It adds too much vermouth.

Wow! Sealpoet in person! ("We've never met, Hi, I'm T'ai Chi," she blurted, nervous at meeting a celebrity...)

G'day, Seal...

We've missed you!!!!!!!!!!!

Ummm....Stoli, Gin, and Vodka. I'll bring the snacks.

it's about danged time!

Sealpoet! Well I'll be fucked right and raw.

Yay!! Seal Poet--where ya been? Good to see you, please stay around for a change.

daddy had a harbour seal
it hid itself away
but pushing the right buttons
has helped it to display.

Daddy and his harbour seal
Came back to visit us....
Don't let hin get away again!
Let's bind him with a truss!

I'll second that!

and I agree. A very happy Florida dolphin welcomes back a seal.

He just teased us!


Get that delphinium dolphin after him!

Not teasing, just placeholding.

What can I say, Life has gotten interesting.

How long has it been? Well, I've been back at my former employer for more than twice the time I was somewhere else. Doing well, thank you, programming machines to measure stuff.

Step-son got married a month ago, son goes to collge a month from now. And vacation next week...

It's nice to be missed. Maybe come fall I'll actually hang out here enough to make snarky comments.

And, to fill space... a poem from darker days.

My hole is deep
The sides are steep
There’s dirt under my nails
I dig and scrape
Trying to escape
My self-constructed jail
How to begin
I just fell in
This hole that I had dug
I’m on retreat
And all I eat
Are roots and sometimes bugs.

My lower bound
Is not the ground
My floor’s become my sky
And while I’m under
Don’t you wonder
‘Cuz I won’t tell you why
The one thing I trust
Is the smell of dust
Surround myself with dirt
And I don’t care
About getting fresh air
If I’m not getting hurt.

I don’t want to know about family relations
I don’t want to know about friends and foes
I don’t want to know my heart’s on vacation
I don’t want to know what I don’t want to know


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Mrs. SealPoet says hi!

Hi Back!

I'm glad those times aren't now.