On dog hunts, davenports and gunpowder:
Thought for the Day:
The Irish ignore anything they can't drink or punch.”
(I would like to dedicate this day to an early role model for us all, Mr. Leif Garrett; a man who to this day never fails to inspire me in my reckless pursuit of excellence.)
A Brief re-cap of my Weekend:
On Friday last, I enjoyed the company of my loving and dutiful wife at several locations throughout the manor house. My understanding is that she had called time and temp, thus the mood.
After which we enjoyed a meal of shrimp scampi, keeping in the sprit of this holiday known as Lent. She enjoyed a few movies into the night while I read yet another book on the Ottoman Empire. We turned in at the late hour of 11 PM.
Saturday, I woke at my flowers instance to bright sunshiny day, while this great state in which we reside enjoyed a rather uncharacteristic warming trend. Surprised at the early hour and my brides alertness, I was informed that I had 15 mins. to get ready.
She had ordered a Ryder Truck and we had places to go. My loving wife can be rather impulsive at times, this being one of them. I was as she put it a “drop your cocks and grab your socks, I want a see assholes and elbows, move it, move it” kind of morning.
I love it when she talks Marine to me, it’s so dirty.
So, with 2 mins. to spare, we were on the road, I was looking and feeling my best. However, I found myself thinking my love was having some kind of covert-ops flashback, I thought it prudent to not ask our mission.
It all too soon became apparent when we crossed the border into Michigan; obviously we were going to spend some quality time with her primitive tribal people. You the frequent reader of these pages know I rather enjoy the time spent with them and their Upper Peninsula customs, although mostly in an anthropological sense.
Last year, I joined them for their traditional Thanksgiving Day Dog Hunt. I still have the cammo baseball cap they gave me to represent our kinship. It seems her aunt and uncle are downsizing into a smaller hut and wanted to give us a sofa and a bedroom set, plus other various items from their household, thus this early morning trek.
So, dear reader I am now the proud owner of a floral print sofa, 15 tropical plants, all survivors of funeral arrangements a step ladder, two bikes and over 100 candles. However, we did not take the white bedroom set; I being the man that I am drew a line on that. I don’t care how many female members of the tribe enjoyed its princess like comforts, it was not going home with us.
That was something for which I paid for the rest of the drive home.
Upon our return to the center of the known universe (Indiana), we unloaded the truck and rearranged furniture, after which my love went shopping with Mrs. Pastor Bob. After she started speaking to me again, we enjoyed a quiet evening and a wholesome meal of stone ground breads, goat cheeses and cured meats, putting on old Cat Stevens LPs and dancing well into the night.
Then Sunday, we walked to the early-bird special Mass, after which my loving and petite flower and I enjoyed a breakfast at a local Vietnamese restaurant, her a 4 egg omelet, myself some Bun Bo Hue. After our moring meal we visited some super Catholic friends who have 6 children all under the age of 7, enjoyable but not relaxing. Later that morning I reseeded the lawn and did a few other guy type things out doors ie: I pee’d on the fence and chewed tobacco.
In the afternoon I went over to my dear friend Matt the Cop’s home on the city’s fashionable Northwest side, after chatting about how much it sucks that I am not drinking for Lent we took a different course of action. We went to the firing range and fired automatic weapons and high powered rifles at cardboard cut-outs of famous NASCAR drivers. A good natured, fun filled afternoon was had in the company of our fellow gun enthuses. I plan to teach a class on battle sighting the M-16 A2 at an up-coming date, reserve your spot now.
With ears still ringing and gun power in my nose I came home to a wonderful meal of steaks. After which we sat on our new flowerily sofa and watched "Elizabethtown", which while being a chic flick does have some good southern humor in it and a great rendition of Freebird (a personal favorite of yours truly).
All in all a quiet, sedate weekend on the Public household.
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 10
For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any,
Who for thyself art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lovest is most evident;
For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate
That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire.
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
Quote of the Day:
“"Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.'”
William Butler Yeats
I remain coveted, much like the last sheet of toilet paper:
JQP esq.
The Irish ignore anything they can't drink or punch.”
(I would like to dedicate this day to an early role model for us all, Mr. Leif Garrett; a man who to this day never fails to inspire me in my reckless pursuit of excellence.)
A Brief re-cap of my Weekend:
On Friday last, I enjoyed the company of my loving and dutiful wife at several locations throughout the manor house. My understanding is that she had called time and temp, thus the mood.
After which we enjoyed a meal of shrimp scampi, keeping in the sprit of this holiday known as Lent. She enjoyed a few movies into the night while I read yet another book on the Ottoman Empire. We turned in at the late hour of 11 PM.
Saturday, I woke at my flowers instance to bright sunshiny day, while this great state in which we reside enjoyed a rather uncharacteristic warming trend. Surprised at the early hour and my brides alertness, I was informed that I had 15 mins. to get ready.
She had ordered a Ryder Truck and we had places to go. My loving wife can be rather impulsive at times, this being one of them. I was as she put it a “drop your cocks and grab your socks, I want a see assholes and elbows, move it, move it” kind of morning.
I love it when she talks Marine to me, it’s so dirty.
So, with 2 mins. to spare, we were on the road, I was looking and feeling my best. However, I found myself thinking my love was having some kind of covert-ops flashback, I thought it prudent to not ask our mission.
It all too soon became apparent when we crossed the border into Michigan; obviously we were going to spend some quality time with her primitive tribal people. You the frequent reader of these pages know I rather enjoy the time spent with them and their Upper Peninsula customs, although mostly in an anthropological sense.
Last year, I joined them for their traditional Thanksgiving Day Dog Hunt. I still have the cammo baseball cap they gave me to represent our kinship. It seems her aunt and uncle are downsizing into a smaller hut and wanted to give us a sofa and a bedroom set, plus other various items from their household, thus this early morning trek.
So, dear reader I am now the proud owner of a floral print sofa, 15 tropical plants, all survivors of funeral arrangements a step ladder, two bikes and over 100 candles. However, we did not take the white bedroom set; I being the man that I am drew a line on that. I don’t care how many female members of the tribe enjoyed its princess like comforts, it was not going home with us.
That was something for which I paid for the rest of the drive home.
Upon our return to the center of the known universe (Indiana), we unloaded the truck and rearranged furniture, after which my love went shopping with Mrs. Pastor Bob. After she started speaking to me again, we enjoyed a quiet evening and a wholesome meal of stone ground breads, goat cheeses and cured meats, putting on old Cat Stevens LPs and dancing well into the night.
Then Sunday, we walked to the early-bird special Mass, after which my loving and petite flower and I enjoyed a breakfast at a local Vietnamese restaurant, her a 4 egg omelet, myself some Bun Bo Hue. After our moring meal we visited some super Catholic friends who have 6 children all under the age of 7, enjoyable but not relaxing. Later that morning I reseeded the lawn and did a few other guy type things out doors ie: I pee’d on the fence and chewed tobacco.
In the afternoon I went over to my dear friend Matt the Cop’s home on the city’s fashionable Northwest side, after chatting about how much it sucks that I am not drinking for Lent we took a different course of action. We went to the firing range and fired automatic weapons and high powered rifles at cardboard cut-outs of famous NASCAR drivers. A good natured, fun filled afternoon was had in the company of our fellow gun enthuses. I plan to teach a class on battle sighting the M-16 A2 at an up-coming date, reserve your spot now.
With ears still ringing and gun power in my nose I came home to a wonderful meal of steaks. After which we sat on our new flowerily sofa and watched "Elizabethtown", which while being a chic flick does have some good southern humor in it and a great rendition of Freebird (a personal favorite of yours truly).
All in all a quiet, sedate weekend on the Public household.
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 10
For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any,
Who for thyself art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lovest is most evident;
For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate
That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire.
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
Quote of the Day:
“"Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.'”
William Butler Yeats
I remain coveted, much like the last sheet of toilet paper:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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