What are champers? You mean champagne? oh, yeah. One should watch that...
truth
I just got here, and I can't stop laughing at Eva's joke.
Ate two doughnuts AND a bagel this morning. . . carb-overload. . . went on a two hour walk to try and make up for the carbs, wore uncomfy shoes, blister is forming on little toe, right foot. . .
ossobuco wrote:What are champers? You mean champagne? oh, yeah. One should watch that...
Yeah, and I'm not a regular drinker. They were probably the first drinks I've had for 5 months.
Memories of a friend vomiting on the lovely green grass along Sunset Boulevard after a fine wedding reception...
truth
That's odd. I have a memory of me vomiting on a lawn at a divorce celebration of a friend. Was yours on the front yard lawn? At least mine was in the back yard in a private corner. Oh, along Sunset Blvd. that would be the front lawn. You are talking about the posh residential area between the strip and UCLA?
No, we were driving (well, luckily I was driving) back from the Santa Inez Inn, forget now how or why we got on Sunset, but it was between Pacific Palisades and Brentwood...you know where it goes by various large ranch houses as Sunset curves down into the area by Kenter, Gretna Green, and Bundy Drive. Lovely setting. I happened not to be throwing up myself so I could fully appreciate the scene.
truth
I think that's where O.J. Simpson allegedly killed his wife and her friend.
Princessash -- Bummer... blisters'll ruin your day.
OK -- speaking of the other thing... my stupidest act recently is to drink tequila on Friday night, then eat Mexican food and spend the wee hours of Saturday "talking on the big phone." I hardly ever drink, thus even a little bit poisons me.
<sigh>
truth
Piffka, before I start crying for you, tell me that you CAN and DO drink red wine with your pasta--at least a half glass at the end of the meal, to consecrate it.
Oh please cry for me... even though I hardly ever eat pasta. Red wine is the only thing I can safely drink, red wine or cognac. So why was I drinking tequila, you ask? I dunno. Stupid thing.
Jl, no, no, no, that was on Gretna Green Way, south of Montana Avenue. That is my old neighborhood. My parents/my house was on Gretna Green, which was perpendicular to Sunset. They were midway between Sunset and San Vicente. (more stories). South of San Vicente South of that was Montana. I went to kindergarden at GG and Montana.
A block or so south of that, as GG wound down towards Wilshire, which it didn't cross, having turned into Bundy.. was the OJ scene. I must have walked by there the time I ran away from kindergarden.
I know, JL, you are picturing it and thinkng we were wealthy.
Those were sort of tract houses when they bought. I remember them not buying a house a half block from Sunset for 19,500.
Anyway, whatever it took to buy that house they did buy, my dad lost his job shortly thereafter. So I was a teen/young adult sans dollars in a strange place, taking not-running-very-often busses to get places.
I didn't have a neighborhood of my own til later, Westwood, and then the best, Venice.
Excuse me folks, back to Stupid Vomiting -
Going to the Marina and having too many, too many whats I can hardly remember. Maybe rum and cokes. Late 60's, early 70's.
edited to get rid of too many 'reallys'.
Brrrrrrrrrrr <shudder>... Rum & cokes. No, no, no... I'd pushed the regretable Saturday a.m. out of my head 'til I read this thread. Sheesh. I used to be able to drink anything... Scorpion's from Trader Vic's, Skip-Run-and-Go-Nakeds from the J&M, all sorts of filthy concoctions. But I'm too old for this, really I am.
Well, gee, piff, that was a quarter century ago.
Time flies.......
I didn't mean to keep this in a drunken routine thread, though many of us have done that.
Thinking of a recent stupid thing. Well, which one shall I tell?
I took my knitting needles on the plane. . .
. . .
truth
I suppose that when I performed my most stupid act I was at that moment so stupid that I still don't know that it was stupid
.
Eva wrote:Okay, this one is for Cav.
I don't cook that much. Not that I don't know how, mind you, but I'm one of those if-it's-a-party-or celebration-I-will sort of cooks. Not the everyday stuff. (Hubby prefers to do that. He's one of those terminally skinny types that thinks about food constantly, day and night. Drives me crazy.)
Anyway, I had the electric mixer out, making real whipped cream to go on top of my baked fudge (it's killer). And you all know how whipped cream tends to fly all over the place when you use an electric mixer, right? So when the cream was all nice and fluffy, I took the beaters out of the mixer and naturally, licked them clean. Everyone does that, right? No sense wasting real whipped cream. Then I noticed a big blob of whipped cream on the mixer...right where the cord went into the machine. I licked it off, too, but some of it stayed on the cord. So I unplugged the cord from the mixer (forgetting that it was still plugged into the wall) and stuck the end of the cord in my mouth to get the last dollop. Shocked the hell outta myself.
Would it help if I said I did this about ten years ago?
Nope, didn't think so.
Told this story to the guys at work today (all electricians). Cracked them up. Funniest thing they'd heard in ages.
