More fun than huffing Model Glue:
Thought for the Day:
You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.
Dave Barry
(A candid snap shot of my last vacation)
Brats, Bras, Bud and Barf:
…and so went day one of the In-Laws visit. I arrived at the manor house to a formal reception being held in their honor. I almost escaped detection by slipping up the servants’ stairs but the hounds heard my penny loafers ascending rapidly step by step. With a bark they alerted my house guests to my presence. Thusly, I began my duties as host with the most, and by most I mean bad attitude. I should in my defense state that I was not feeling well, with the current weather patterns here in the flat lands of Indiana, my legs and back have been killing me, pain + JQP – pain pills = a not good experience for anyone.
It was decided that we would take them to one of the 500 community festivals that this city is famous for, so at 5:30 we loaded them up and drove downtown for Germanfest. Now most cities have a German festival in October, not this city, we have ours in June. Picture a tent 3 blocks long packed to standing room only in 90 degree heat, full of people of German decent spending money drinking over priced domestic draft and outrageously priced German beer while stuffing their faces with brats. I predict that one of these years all these Indiana-Germans are going to get drunk and load-up in pick-up trucks and invade Ohio, which in fact might be good for both parties.
One thing I did notice is that most of the German women in this town besides having big hips have huge boobs and I mean very large. I am not talking those beer hall outfits; I am talking canvas bags holding watermelons. I am told it is a trait common to the female decedents of this city’s early Bavarian immigrants.
Next year, I am going to get a vender permit and sell custom made bras at this event. In one week I bet I could make enough to pay-off my student loans. All I need is some canvas and pop-rivets, shit they don’t even have to be comfortable, these folks are German Lutherans, they don’t go for comfort.
We got there early enough that there was no line to get in and only a short line for food, by short I mean 20 minutes. I must say the brats this year were the best I ever had, and the German potato salad was wonderful as usual. The polka band left a bit to be desired, but then again you the reader know I am a bit of a polka purist. I was able to take 4 the four of us to dinner for (with a pitcher of beer) only 70 dollars (US). Someone is making money and brothers and sisters it isn’t me.
After our meal, we walked around the park for a bit and then went and watched the much anticipated parade of the Budweiser Clydesdale Horses. Having grown-up around horses this was not as big a deal to me as it was to my animal loving wife.
Dear reader what a parade it was, they drove the team exactly 2 blocks and turned around and started over. Glad, I didn’t have to pay to watch that, granted a 8 horse team is impressive in any circumstance but it seemed to bunch of hype with very little pay-off, much like my first use of illegal drugs.
With that exciting 3 and half minutes well spent, we decided to return to the manor house. Upon, our arrival my loving wife and in-laws decided they wanted to take a walk. Now, as you know my quality pre-owned knee was hurting and after standing around all day, a walk is the last thing I wanted to do, so I politely declined to offer them my company. Instead I went to bed, and 7:30pm, I was sound asleep and friends I slept like the angel I am.
This morning I woke and found my mother in-law asleep on the couch in the parlor. My first thought was “giggle, damn, they must of gotten into a fight, giggle”, my second was more practical in nature, I have a morning routine and damn it, it was busted all to hell. I fix coffee, turn on NPR and start reading my newspapers, after which I hop on my lap-top and surf the news. I do all these things right where the old girl of slumbering. My Flower came down stairs and went in to check on her and found out that their night was by far less enjoyable than mine.
They both have the flu and spent the night throwing up over priced beer, brats and sauerkraut. I feel sorry for them, the only thing worse than being sick, is being sick in someone else’s house 1,500 miles from home (see, I am in fact a compassionate man). My offer of sharing my breakfast of pickled garlic and soft boiled eggs with black bread toast & cream cheese was emphatically declined, has was my offer of leftover Kim Chi. I was told the strong odor of my morning meal made them both decide that retuning to bed might be the best for everyone. Thusly, I am able to sit here and type this while listing to NPR. One day down, dear friends, one day down.
Today and the Weekend Ahead:
Today after work I have no idea what we will be doing. My Flower and I had wanted to take them to a local place famous for its oysters, but my Magic Eight Ball says that is most unlikely. So, it is up in the air. Saturday, is the Highland Games, a chance for me to prove my Celtic Manhood (at least spend sometime with people I have a shared gene pool with vs. the Huns at the beer tent) by tossing sawed off telephone poles and throwing hammers (and perhaps playing Rugby, shhh..dont tell Mrs. JQP), all while wearing a skirt (and ladies, I do have the legs for a kilt).
After the games we are going to see a former fat man sing with Blues Traveler. In truth, I can’t think of one song they sing and really don’t want to think of one. I know I will be abandoned with my in-laws while my Pretty and Suddenly Age Regressed Wife (she started in on the daddy’s little girl, etc… stuff) does the music-trade voodoo that she do. On the plus side, M. Chamberlain and Miss Nay-Nay, should be there. Sunday is at this time up in the air, however I am planning on dragging them to the early Mass (they are non-practicing Prots) which should at least make me giggle for a few days.
Your Hairy Pitted Woman of the Week:
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 81
Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen--
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Quote of the Day:
When a man says he approves of something in principle, it means he hasn't the slightest intention of putting it into practice.
Otto von Bismarck
I remain, much like the brisk scent of Aqua Velva and burned hair, two things you just can get out of your nose:
JQP esq.
You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.
Dave Barry
(A candid snap shot of my last vacation)
Brats, Bras, Bud and Barf:
…and so went day one of the In-Laws visit. I arrived at the manor house to a formal reception being held in their honor. I almost escaped detection by slipping up the servants’ stairs but the hounds heard my penny loafers ascending rapidly step by step. With a bark they alerted my house guests to my presence. Thusly, I began my duties as host with the most, and by most I mean bad attitude. I should in my defense state that I was not feeling well, with the current weather patterns here in the flat lands of Indiana, my legs and back have been killing me, pain + JQP – pain pills = a not good experience for anyone.
It was decided that we would take them to one of the 500 community festivals that this city is famous for, so at 5:30 we loaded them up and drove downtown for Germanfest. Now most cities have a German festival in October, not this city, we have ours in June. Picture a tent 3 blocks long packed to standing room only in 90 degree heat, full of people of German decent spending money drinking over priced domestic draft and outrageously priced German beer while stuffing their faces with brats. I predict that one of these years all these Indiana-Germans are going to get drunk and load-up in pick-up trucks and invade Ohio, which in fact might be good for both parties.
One thing I did notice is that most of the German women in this town besides having big hips have huge boobs and I mean very large. I am not talking those beer hall outfits; I am talking canvas bags holding watermelons. I am told it is a trait common to the female decedents of this city’s early Bavarian immigrants.
Next year, I am going to get a vender permit and sell custom made bras at this event. In one week I bet I could make enough to pay-off my student loans. All I need is some canvas and pop-rivets, shit they don’t even have to be comfortable, these folks are German Lutherans, they don’t go for comfort.
We got there early enough that there was no line to get in and only a short line for food, by short I mean 20 minutes. I must say the brats this year were the best I ever had, and the German potato salad was wonderful as usual. The polka band left a bit to be desired, but then again you the reader know I am a bit of a polka purist. I was able to take 4 the four of us to dinner for (with a pitcher of beer) only 70 dollars (US). Someone is making money and brothers and sisters it isn’t me.
After our meal, we walked around the park for a bit and then went and watched the much anticipated parade of the Budweiser Clydesdale Horses. Having grown-up around horses this was not as big a deal to me as it was to my animal loving wife.
Dear reader what a parade it was, they drove the team exactly 2 blocks and turned around and started over. Glad, I didn’t have to pay to watch that, granted a 8 horse team is impressive in any circumstance but it seemed to bunch of hype with very little pay-off, much like my first use of illegal drugs.
With that exciting 3 and half minutes well spent, we decided to return to the manor house. Upon, our arrival my loving wife and in-laws decided they wanted to take a walk. Now, as you know my quality pre-owned knee was hurting and after standing around all day, a walk is the last thing I wanted to do, so I politely declined to offer them my company. Instead I went to bed, and 7:30pm, I was sound asleep and friends I slept like the angel I am.
This morning I woke and found my mother in-law asleep on the couch in the parlor. My first thought was “giggle, damn, they must of gotten into a fight, giggle”, my second was more practical in nature, I have a morning routine and damn it, it was busted all to hell. I fix coffee, turn on NPR and start reading my newspapers, after which I hop on my lap-top and surf the news. I do all these things right where the old girl of slumbering. My Flower came down stairs and went in to check on her and found out that their night was by far less enjoyable than mine.
They both have the flu and spent the night throwing up over priced beer, brats and sauerkraut. I feel sorry for them, the only thing worse than being sick, is being sick in someone else’s house 1,500 miles from home (see, I am in fact a compassionate man). My offer of sharing my breakfast of pickled garlic and soft boiled eggs with black bread toast & cream cheese was emphatically declined, has was my offer of leftover Kim Chi. I was told the strong odor of my morning meal made them both decide that retuning to bed might be the best for everyone. Thusly, I am able to sit here and type this while listing to NPR. One day down, dear friends, one day down.
Today and the Weekend Ahead:
Today after work I have no idea what we will be doing. My Flower and I had wanted to take them to a local place famous for its oysters, but my Magic Eight Ball says that is most unlikely. So, it is up in the air. Saturday, is the Highland Games, a chance for me to prove my Celtic Manhood (at least spend sometime with people I have a shared gene pool with vs. the Huns at the beer tent) by tossing sawed off telephone poles and throwing hammers (and perhaps playing Rugby, shhh..dont tell Mrs. JQP), all while wearing a skirt (and ladies, I do have the legs for a kilt).
After the games we are going to see a former fat man sing with Blues Traveler. In truth, I can’t think of one song they sing and really don’t want to think of one. I know I will be abandoned with my in-laws while my Pretty and Suddenly Age Regressed Wife (she started in on the daddy’s little girl, etc… stuff) does the music-trade voodoo that she do. On the plus side, M. Chamberlain and Miss Nay-Nay, should be there. Sunday is at this time up in the air, however I am planning on dragging them to the early Mass (they are non-practicing Prots) which should at least make me giggle for a few days.
Your Hairy Pitted Woman of the Week:
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 81
Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen--
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Quote of the Day:
When a man says he approves of something in principle, it means he hasn't the slightest intention of putting it into practice.
Otto von Bismarck
I remain, much like the brisk scent of Aqua Velva and burned hair, two things you just can get out of your nose:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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