Lot's of good Thai and Vietnamese restaurants here on Guam.
Anybody see my roll of duct tape around anywhere? The masking tape's not strong enough for what I had in mind.
Say the magic word....................
"I must say I was borned at a very early age.
Women should be obscene and not heard.
You are only as old as the women you feel!"
and don't forget:
She offered her honor, so i honored her offer, and i was on her and off her all night.
digress
digression is the natural state, roight??
like entropy,
I have a trophy for knowing all the words
which begin with "en"
Confucious say, he who die, buried under gress
not die in gress
Phoenix - the recipe sounds about right.
I love it, but don't bother cooking it. There are about 6 Thai restaurants within home delivery distance of me and I judge them by the quality of their Red Curry Duck! I'm about to start the round again - as I think there's been a change of cook at my current favourite.
Now, if only I could get a decent Vietnamese restaurant within cooee!!
MA - can you read this?
Duck!
Not to regress, but the Daily Show (that bastion of objective journalism, yes -- but I adjudge them about even with network shows) did a feature on the turkeys who get pardoned by the president every year, in a ridiculous symbolic gesture of mercy. What happens to these birds? Do they go off to some idyllic ranch to live out their natural lives? Well, yes, in a way. The thing is, they've been bred so out of proportion because we much prefer breasts to legs (look at Pamela Anderson, fer instance, or Pedro Guerrero, if y'all remember him for playing baseball and not getting high with O.J. Simpson's girlfriends) that their natural life doesn't extend long past turkey day anyway. So the poor bastards live a few more weeks in excruciating pain, carrying about enormous bodies on piddly little legs ('cuz most of us prefer the fair meat to the dusky), and then drop dead all on their own -- and nobody gets to eat 'em.
Ya gotta love it.
Really, ya gotta. If ya don't I'm gonna hurt ya.
PETA (Pinheads for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) pulled off a "commando" raid at a turkey farm in California in the 1980's, releasing the birds "imprisoned" there. Can you imagine? I bet the coyotes in the California hills could not believe their luck.
Fly free, majestic bird! Fly away! What? You can't do that? Oh, okay, well, then -- run free, regal bird, run free! Oh, you can't do that either? Oh. Bummer. Well, then, lay there exhausted and wretched in your own feces, princely bird, lay there!
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! that is DISGUSTING Patiodog!
Such poor travesties of fauna ought never to be allowed to be bred - and I guess they are also full of hormones and antibiotics!
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
You planning on mori-ing for your country sometime soon, Setanta?
Say it ain't so!
'k . . . it ain't so . . .
(Don't worry, Boss, i'll change the slogan soon, when i get bored with this)
Odd. I ran across Sentanta's quote in my airplane reading this weekend. What're the odds, eh?
I've an aunt who worked, in a clerical capacity, on a turkey farm for a while -- not a bad one, at that, but still pretty nasty (but such tasty bird, mmmm). She said the smell was the worst she'd ever come across -- and this is a woman who lived for about three years in a farming village in Hungary with a family who all had chronic gastrointestinal problems. (Please, nobody think I am attacking Hungarians here; it's farmers I can't stand!)
Huh? A BB in a shoebox? Babs, you have digressed beyond my ability to follow!
Patio - did you run across the poem? A great one for these times......
Glad to hear that, Setanta.
When I was a youngster, my family was in the poultry business ... well, actually it was a paltry business, my dad having only a chicken pen, a henhouse about the size of a two-holer privy and 8 or 9 hens. There was also a Rhode Island Red rooster who was about a head taller than I was, a rooster's head, anyway. My job was to make sure these fowls all had feed and water daily, or at least as often as I thought of it. One day, I must of been 7 or 8 at the time, I was dishing out the mash when I was awakened by a couple of vicious rooster pecks in the nape of my neck. This was a bit of a shock -- such a nasty shock that my chewing gum popped right out of my mouth. I'll never forget it ... when I'd retrieved it, it didn't taste a bit like juicy fruit anymore. So anyhow, I can attest to, ataste at least, what patiodog was saying about stinking poultry. And if you ever find yourself feeding chickens try not to chew gum but if you really have to don't drop it and if you do make sure it's your gum and not a piece the chickens dropped before you pick it back up.
