Sunday, January 13, 2013

Sunday

(Andy Whitfield: I miss the guy.)

Yesterday, I made eggs and hash browns for dinner.  The meal was surprisingly good.  I hate cooking.  I don't possess the patience required to fry or bake food.

The Dragon Lady is still in Pusan with her family.  She called this afternoon.  I have a nasty cold, and everybody is worried about me.  Perhaps I'm dying.

I hosted a Spartacus marathon.  I watched all thirteen episodes of Blood and Sand.  Andy Whitfield's premature death weighs heavily upon my soul.  He was such a handsome stud.  If life can crush Andy like a bug, what chance do I have?

I drank coffee and read the paper.  President Park is invoking the memory of Abraham Lincoln.  She wants a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.  Her daddy was the peninsula's most beloved dictator.  He was shot in the head while drinking Chivas Regal.  No joke. 

Both the Broncos and the Packers lost their playoff games.  I'm very surprised.  I had them going all the way to the Super Bowl.  Poor old Smith isn't exactly Harvard material.  I never get anything right.

Peyton Manning's interception at the end of the contest didn't surprise me.  However, the fact that Champ Bailey and the Denver secondary were thoroughly schooled by the Raven's receivers absolutely blew my mind.  The league's number two defense left a giant turd out on the field.

I didn't go to church.  My wife has the car.  I hate to miss.  The pastor is very entertaining.  His sermons fill me with wonder and curiosity.  He doesn't dumb Christ down.

It's currently 3:53 p.m.  I'm all alone in my Soviet-style concrete tenement.  What a drag.

Anyway, talk to you later.  God bless.  And go Texans.

12 comments:

  1. Final season of Spartacus starts soon. Give archer a try too, smith.

    Isaac

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I've got nothing against Archer.

      He's just no Andy Whitfield.

      Whitfield was the perfect Spartacus.

      Delete
    2. I was talking about archer tv show. It's from fx.

      Delete
  2. I'm worried about you now. No posts?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Several days without posting. Maybe Mr. Smith has died. Either from his cold or malnutrition.

    I taught myself how to cook in college. I never wanted to be in a position where a woman could control me. "Honey, I'm angry at you! No dinner for you -- starve, you bastard!" It helped that my first job in high school was in a Montgomery Ward's cafeteria -- in the long-forgotten days when there WERE Monkey Wards, and when department stores ran their own food service ops before that business model changed. I climbed the duty ladder from dishwasher to part-time line cook, so I got a feel for food. Great survival skill.

    Last night, I had a 4-lb Chateaubriand for dinner. I'm visiting my aged, ailing mom in Maryland. She's got so much money she leaves $59,000+ just sitting around in her savings account at an eeeeeeevil TBTF bank, and $17,000+ in checking. Money just hanging around, apart from her investment account with a financial advisor, because she can't be bothered to do anything with it.

    She does things like buys this magnificent piece of meat from Omaha Steaks, which is like a log that's longer and thicker than my biceps made of 10 filet mignons. At least you'd have that if you sliced the thing apart crossways. I don't know what this sucker cost, but when I went to the Omaha Steaks website to look for cooking instructions, I saw it was on sale for $139 U.S., compared to the regular price of $182. Ridiculously overpriced, if you ask me. My mom doesn't cook any more, but she has a Depression-era compulsion to fill her cabinets with food and the freezers (she has three fridges) with expensive meat. When there's a multi-day power outage -- even close to Washington, D.C. that happens at least once every two years -- it all rots. So when I visit, I cook up the best stuff. Otherwise the poor cow died for nothing.

    Smith, the Chateaubriand was magnificent! I'm not saying that to cause envy, just hoping you can share my joy. My daughter's boyfriend -- they are unemployed college grads, victims of the crappy American economy, so I string-pulled to get them to move from Florida and live with my mom to look after her -- helped me brown the outsides in a huge frying pan, then roast it in the oven. Had it with baked potatoes, lettuce salad with sliced pears, Stilton cheese, toasted walnuts and a home-made mustard vinaigrette dressing, my daughter whipped up a green bean and cream of mushroom soup casserole -- the trick is to use a bit of garlic to make it taste better than the usual boring Midwestern version of that dish... It was a feast-ful dinner!

    And what did my mom do in the face of this superb meal? When it was ready and on the table, she decided to go to bed without eating a single bite. She's grouchy and rejectful that way. What's a son to do?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You ought to start a blog.

      That was entertaining.

      Peace.

      Delete
    2. Thank you, Mr. Smith, but I'm too lazy to start a blog where I'd feel compelled to write continuously, as you do. So I spew my long-winded drivel in comments on your blog and others. Gets rid of my urge to write shite, and no long-term commitment.

      Delete
    3. The world is losing a great artist.

      Peace.

      Delete
  4. Interesting post, Bukko Canukko. Last summer I bought myself this large sirloin steak - WAY too big to eat in one meal. So what I did was I cooked the whole piece on my Smokey Joe BBQ grill, sliced off a little to eat, and put the rest in an enameled iron pot and kept it in the fridge for later. And then every day I was able to slice off some slices of delicious beef from an already cooked piece of sirloin steak. I thought it was a great way to do it, because that way I only had to operate the Smokey Joe one time. I mean, it gets to be a pain in the ass to clean the BBQ, load it with fresh charcoals, and cook something. So the trick is to cook one BIG steak, and put up the unused portion in a container in the fridge. Guaranteed to be the best danged leftovers you'll ever eat. Plus, it maintains that nice BBQ flavour.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't like cooking.

      That's why God created women.

      Delete

Thanks for stopping by. Smith.