First, let's take care of some current events.
I was shocked and saddened to learn of the tragic death of the 45 year old actress, Natasha Richardson. She passed away yesterday after sustaining a head injury during a skiing lesson in Canada on Monday. Although I am less familiar with her work than I am of her husband, Liam Neeson, her death at such a young age was exceptionally unfortunate. My heartfelt sympathy is extended to her family and friends.
I personally have never snow skied, nor do I intend to, for the simple fear of getting killed, or sustaining major bodily injury. I value life too much to put it in jeopardy for no good reason. Sliding down a steep and slippery mountain at high velocities seems to me to be a recipe for disaster. Every time I get the urge to ski I visualize Sonny Bono slamming into a tree and the urge goes away.
The same applies to going up a mountain. You won't find me climbing anything higher than a step ladder anytime soon.
Mountains are just dangerous things. I suggest avoiding them whenever possible.
I have skied on water, and may again. There are no trees in a lake.
One must be mindful of freshwater sharks, however.
And octopuses.
President Obama was here downtown about an hour and a half ago with our govenator for a town hall meeting.
Congress is in an uproar over bonuses paid out to executives of companies like AIG who have received bailout money. I am to. These are the very same people who got us into this mess to begin with, and their getting extra money for doing it? These companies maintain that they need to make the payments in order to retain these executives. I don't know about you, dear reader, but I was an exceptional employee for most of my life and the only bonus I ever received was a hearty, "Good job, Rick."
And Dick Cheney went on television and stated he thought Obama was making it easier for terrorists to attack us again even though he is not seeing intelligence reports anymore. I offer him the same thing John Stewart of The Daily Show did: "How would you like a nice hot cup of shut the f--k up!"
Okay, the Cooking Club. At eleven o'clock I walked over to the Olympia Hotel and was allowed to enter, being a Cooking Club regular. We get together on Thursdays to cook things. I'm not sure why, but we do. We cooked muffins last week, and in the past have cooked nice omelets, cupcakes, pizza, lasagna, and apple pies (I have an actual picture of Erin and I holding said apple pie, but will never post it because I look horrible in it, especially when compared to the lovely Erin). Anything that doesn't take too long or is overly complicated. This Club is the most popular currently offered by my case managers, Erin and Paul, for a very simple reason. Free food is provided.
Today sixteen people signed up to help make some enchilada pie. Fortunately, only about ten showed, except for Rodney, who came late after all the work was done, and was shooshed away by a stern disapproving look from the authoritarian Erin.
I cooked the hamburger, which I always like to do, just to keep busy, and I happen to be proficient at it. Besides others can't be trusted not to take repeated and unnecessary taste tests throughout the cooking process. So I cooked up about two pounds of meat in a skillet. Erin added salt and spices, and tomatoes. Someone else added chopped onions. Earl bought, and wanted to add some cilantro, but Erin would have none of it.
Apparently she had been abused by the herb in the past. She told a horrifying story about while visiting Ecuador (this girl has been everywhere! When I was her age I was lucky to visit Pomona) she was forced to eat a stew made out of potatoes, ostrich eggs, and hamsters, seasoned largely with cilantro, by a rampaging tribe of Ecuadorian Indians. This was particularly traumatic for Erin because at the time she kept a hamster as a pet (or was it a Guinea Pig, I can't remember). And since that time she has deeply relucent to consume cilantro, which reminds her of the fateful occasion.
By the way, Erin stated that she was not feeling very well today, was nauseous actually, but came to work anyway because so many had signed up for the Club today, and she didn't want to disappoint them. What a trooper!
I invite all of my dear readers to join me in wishing Erin a speedy and complete recovery.
By the way again, I can write anything I want to about my case managers Erin and Paul, without fear of retribution, because they never read any of my stuff. Like this:
Erin has a big funny looking nose and green hair.
See, nothing happened.
"Ouch! don't hit me again. Please stop."
That girl can really sneak up on you fast. I must improve my security.
Earl was in charge of assembling the pie, using tortillas, cheese, sauce, olives, and my nice meat. The pie was placed in the oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, and then consumed by all. Paul even had some and he tends toward vegetarianism. There was enough left over for us to take some home with us, which I did.
Now I know what's for dinner tonight!
I was shocked and saddened to learn of the tragic death of the 45 year old actress, Natasha Richardson. She passed away yesterday after sustaining a head injury during a skiing lesson in Canada on Monday. Although I am less familiar with her work than I am of her husband, Liam Neeson, her death at such a young age was exceptionally unfortunate. My heartfelt sympathy is extended to her family and friends.
I personally have never snow skied, nor do I intend to, for the simple fear of getting killed, or sustaining major bodily injury. I value life too much to put it in jeopardy for no good reason. Sliding down a steep and slippery mountain at high velocities seems to me to be a recipe for disaster. Every time I get the urge to ski I visualize Sonny Bono slamming into a tree and the urge goes away.
The same applies to going up a mountain. You won't find me climbing anything higher than a step ladder anytime soon.
Mountains are just dangerous things. I suggest avoiding them whenever possible.
I have skied on water, and may again. There are no trees in a lake.
One must be mindful of freshwater sharks, however.
And octopuses.
President Obama was here downtown about an hour and a half ago with our govenator for a town hall meeting.
Congress is in an uproar over bonuses paid out to executives of companies like AIG who have received bailout money. I am to. These are the very same people who got us into this mess to begin with, and their getting extra money for doing it? These companies maintain that they need to make the payments in order to retain these executives. I don't know about you, dear reader, but I was an exceptional employee for most of my life and the only bonus I ever received was a hearty, "Good job, Rick."
And Dick Cheney went on television and stated he thought Obama was making it easier for terrorists to attack us again even though he is not seeing intelligence reports anymore. I offer him the same thing John Stewart of The Daily Show did: "How would you like a nice hot cup of shut the f--k up!"
Okay, the Cooking Club. At eleven o'clock I walked over to the Olympia Hotel and was allowed to enter, being a Cooking Club regular. We get together on Thursdays to cook things. I'm not sure why, but we do. We cooked muffins last week, and in the past have cooked nice omelets, cupcakes, pizza, lasagna, and apple pies (I have an actual picture of Erin and I holding said apple pie, but will never post it because I look horrible in it, especially when compared to the lovely Erin). Anything that doesn't take too long or is overly complicated. This Club is the most popular currently offered by my case managers, Erin and Paul, for a very simple reason. Free food is provided.
Today sixteen people signed up to help make some enchilada pie. Fortunately, only about ten showed, except for Rodney, who came late after all the work was done, and was shooshed away by a stern disapproving look from the authoritarian Erin.
I cooked the hamburger, which I always like to do, just to keep busy, and I happen to be proficient at it. Besides others can't be trusted not to take repeated and unnecessary taste tests throughout the cooking process. So I cooked up about two pounds of meat in a skillet. Erin added salt and spices, and tomatoes. Someone else added chopped onions. Earl bought, and wanted to add some cilantro, but Erin would have none of it.
Apparently she had been abused by the herb in the past. She told a horrifying story about while visiting Ecuador (this girl has been everywhere! When I was her age I was lucky to visit Pomona) she was forced to eat a stew made out of potatoes, ostrich eggs, and hamsters, seasoned largely with cilantro, by a rampaging tribe of Ecuadorian Indians. This was particularly traumatic for Erin because at the time she kept a hamster as a pet (or was it a Guinea Pig, I can't remember). And since that time she has deeply relucent to consume cilantro, which reminds her of the fateful occasion.
By the way, Erin stated that she was not feeling very well today, was nauseous actually, but came to work anyway because so many had signed up for the Club today, and she didn't want to disappoint them. What a trooper!
I invite all of my dear readers to join me in wishing Erin a speedy and complete recovery.
By the way again, I can write anything I want to about my case managers Erin and Paul, without fear of retribution, because they never read any of my stuff. Like this:
Erin has a big funny looking nose and green hair.
See, nothing happened.
"Ouch! don't hit me again. Please stop."
That girl can really sneak up on you fast. I must improve my security.
Earl was in charge of assembling the pie, using tortillas, cheese, sauce, olives, and my nice meat. The pie was placed in the oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, and then consumed by all. Paul even had some and he tends toward vegetarianism. There was enough left over for us to take some home with us, which I did.
Now I know what's for dinner tonight!
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