Price:
$16.58 ($276.33 / Ounce) $17.45 Save $0.87 (5%). Price: $17.45. In
Stock. ..... McCormick Gourmet Collection, Spanish Saffron, 0.06-Ounce Unit.
$276.33 an ounce and what are you going to do…but EAT IT?
My word, for that price you should frame it, wear it, melt
it down and take it to a pawn shop, for christ sakes anything but masticate and
leave it to your intestines.
What were you thinking?!
I’ll tell you what I am thinking. It’s Friday. Which means
no work tomorrow and no dishes tonight. That is how crazy this guy gets, I
leave the dishes for Saturday morning dear friends. Don’t judge. Don’t be jealous.
Don’t adjudicate without a standard of proof, even if it is the lowly
preponderance of evidence.
Next please:
Sunday is mother’s day which means brunch. I swear to god if
they have a saffron station at the buffet I am going to lose it!
“Shit Enos, I thought you were
afraid of skinny dipping, every since ole Marleen got aholt of your ass back at
Landon pond that night.”
Enos didn’t know that Marleen could
hold her breath for something close to two minutes. Well one night at Landon
pond they ventured off a little from the group and Marleen was actually the one
to suggest they go skinny dipping. Well ole Enos thought he was gonna get laid
so he said “sure, I look good, but I look better naked” and got his clothes off
midstride to the water. From the water he watched Marleen undress and he smiled
from ear to ear as she strode into the cool water as only moonlight donned her
beautiful figure. She got out close to him and as he shook in excitement she
said “I gotta pee.” “Pee in the water” he said, fearing some sort of
interruption of his dream. “I am not gonna pee I this water, you just sit tight
Enos, I’ll be tight back and when I get back we can find out how long you can
tread water. You can tread water can’t you Enos?” She smiled at him and he just
dunked his head backward and gazed up at the moonlight as she made her way to
shore. Once she got to shore she carefully watched Enos as he float on his back
drifting mindlessly. She eased back into the water and swam underwater for as
long as she could – a distance about 25 yards from Enos . She was well past
Enos from the shore as she sat quiet in the water waiting. After a good long
while dumb ole Enos looked back at the shore and shouted “Marleen if I have to
tread any longer out here, I’m friad there won’t be any tread left for you darling.”
Silence. “Marleen, come on back out here girl –before he could finish his
sentence she was underwater, headed right for him. And from under she came like
Jaws and missed his treading legs and yanked on his dick like she was trying to
sound church bells. Well Ole Enos flipped out thinking the creature from the
black lagoon was coming for his schlong and screamed like a fisher cat while he
got free and made it to the shore in record time. The rest of the crew was
waiting on the shore for him, all of them in on the trick. And of course they
had his clothes and made him bounce around like a monkey before he could get
his clothes. “Godammmit yall a bunch of motherfuckers, a bunch of
motherfuckers!” shouted Enos. Marleen had strode to shore and came out of the
water just like she was walking into her kitchen and said “Oh don’t be too mad
Enos, when I did it to Caleb, I couldn’t even find his dick.” “Fuck you too”
shouted Caleb.
Well ole Enos and his penis took a
liking to the cold night waters at Landon pond. Enos would venture out there
most summer nights wearing nothing but a smile and while he got loved the moon
and the quiet he got bored and when he did, he would swim, from one end to the
other and sometimes back again sometimes totaling four miles a night. Well ole
Enos took shape like a mother fucker. And the girls lined up for Enos and his
penis like they was at the damn DMV.
Enos would take em out to Landon
pond to skinny dippity and ask em “you know how to tread water doncha?”
I’m reading M
Train by Patti
Smith and I really admire/covet/am jealous of/am envious of her ability to
get her thoughts down on paper with such ease and grace and her talent to
communicate. I read her Just Kids on a whim
after I received an xmas gift card for Barnes and Nobles from a boss that would
later, um, remove me from my job. Turns out, this gift card and her advice that
“he/she that has data, wins” would be the best two things she ever gave to me.
M Train isn’t a story with an arc,
it is a collection of memories and musings but it doesn’t matter. Smith
enthralls with little tidbits and anecdotes covering everything from coffee to
Michigan and everything in between. Maybe enthralls is too strong a word…Smith “entertains”
rather with these words and paragraphs, displayed on pages and rolling along
freely associating asunder as asynclitically assembling assurances and
asymptomatically ascertaining agave and agape audacity as ants and aardvarks
artfully attempt assumption and as Ashley ashes away any astral allusions atilt
awfully away, arguably anointing Adam as apple’s adjudicating admirer always, always,
ascribes aster, asses, abdications, …
I just got back from the registrar
and they weren’t too impressed with my Al Pacino impression.
“Ranger choke hold Charlie!”
So to wrap this up: If you are an
artist you must, have to, are required to read Just Kids. Do not pass go do not collect $200.
Saturday night I had the tv to myself
and came across an old 80’s movie I never got around to…so I watched Clue,
mainly because it looked a little like one of my favorite movies Murder ByDeath.
First things first, Clue is no Murder
By Death. Clue is closer to murder by movie. Twas not for me.
But…the very, very voluptuous maid
in Clue was played by actress Colleen Camp. I remembered
her from the second Police Academy movie as the very firearm-informed love interest
of Tackleberry. The scene where she
brings Tackleberry home to meet her family is uproarious. Uproarious I say.
Camp is breathtakingly beautiful in
Clue and it got me to thinking about a person’s peak of beauty. We talk about an
athlete’s peak and the peak of our mental abilities, so how about a peak
of beauty?
But no you say, beauty is in the
eye of the beholder, beauty is subjective, so finding a peak is futile.
Ah but let’s take a quick peak at a
couple of pics.
Collen Camp in 1985’s Clue.
Now to give you an idea of how beautiful Camp is in 1985, take a look at her next to two other actresses from the movie:
Collen Camp at event of Knock Knock,
2015.
Now before you start crying about ageism
and sexism and body shaming, let’s take a look at Marlon Brando.
Now most reasonable, sane people
will undoubtedly say that the younger of the two people are the more beautiful
of the two people.
Why?
Asking why here gets us into
some really worm filled cans containing subjects such as evolution, proximate vs. ultimate
causation, procreation fitness, and more.
But aren't these cans we should open? Can't we talk about beauty without fear of repercussion?
Don't we appreciate beauty because it is rare and doesn't rare run on a time continuum (if it were rare forever it wouldn't be rare!) and if it does, can't we then talk about a peak of beauty?
