It's been quite a crazy day, perfect for me, as I am quite crazy by anyone's standards.
Kenny is funny as hell, and the trade-off of the Ibuprofen cream for the spaghetti and meatballs is imminent. It's going to happen. This week. The cream is in, and Auntie Walmart has been notified. She's on it. The wine has been purchased by Dr. Dinnerman, in anticipation.
Kenny's mom went to a function tonight at a certain local country club, where you apparently don't get served big platters of food. This translates into not getting enough food (anathema amongst local Italian-Americans, myself and Dr. Dinnerman included), so it's imperative for one to arrive in time for the "hors d'oerbes" (hors d'oerves, in Kenny-speak...I love you Kenny!). Hope it can happen, though it may involve rousing someone prematurely off the couch (Kenny's dad, from what I can tell). Keep me up to date.
Kenny brought me some huge-ass carrots and onions tonight. Seriously, these carrots are the size of my tibias (which are the size of large zucchini, for those of you who have no idea what a tibia is...but hey, you can Google too, no???). The onions are the size of my breasts (ok, maybe not...I'm not that well endowed...a more appropriate comparison may be cantaloupes?)
An additional thought with regard to the Providence Oyster Bar rotten oyster experience:
If you are an establishment which has the words "oyster bar" in its very denotation, you better not let a rotten one slip by the goalie. Just don't let it happen. Sheesh.
(Can I not let this go?)
Kenny is funny as hell, and the trade-off of the Ibuprofen cream for the spaghetti and meatballs is imminent. It's going to happen. This week. The cream is in, and Auntie Walmart has been notified. She's on it. The wine has been purchased by Dr. Dinnerman, in anticipation.
Kenny's mom went to a function tonight at a certain local country club, where you apparently don't get served big platters of food. This translates into not getting enough food (anathema amongst local Italian-Americans, myself and Dr. Dinnerman included), so it's imperative for one to arrive in time for the "hors d'oerbes" (hors d'oerves, in Kenny-speak...I love you Kenny!). Hope it can happen, though it may involve rousing someone prematurely off the couch (Kenny's dad, from what I can tell). Keep me up to date.
Kenny brought me some huge-ass carrots and onions tonight. Seriously, these carrots are the size of my tibias (which are the size of large zucchini, for those of you who have no idea what a tibia is...but hey, you can Google too, no???). The onions are the size of my breasts (ok, maybe not...I'm not that well endowed...a more appropriate comparison may be cantaloupes?)
An additional thought with regard to the Providence Oyster Bar rotten oyster experience:
If you are an establishment which has the words "oyster bar" in its very denotation, you better not let a rotten one slip by the goalie. Just don't let it happen. Sheesh.
(Can I not let this go?)
They're re-routing traffic around here as part of the damn "I-Way" bullshit experience. I'm not good with change, so I'm not happy about it right now. I may or may not come around.
Happy cold November Saturday night, folks!!! Leave a comment or two!
No comments:
Post a Comment