Category Archives: Humor

Taste test experiment with Chocolate

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My workplace is an office full of women, no men. On top of a filing cabinet in one corner there is a constant supply of junk food – chocolates, biscuits, gummies, and crisps.

I think only one of those doesn’t need a translation: chocolates. The rest: cookies, gummy bears (or whatever shape), and… oh god I can’t remember the American term… potato chips! I’ve been here too long.

Anyhoo, last week a box magically appeared that said “Hershey’s” on it. I was ecstatic. It was a mixed selection of mini-bars and Kisses and Resse’s cups, and I knew they would be mine-all-mine.

Because the Irish hate the taste of Hershey’s chocolate. ‘Disgusting.’ ‘Vile.’ ‘That’s not real chocolate. It’s just nasty.’ (Despite this pervasive opinion, my favourite Special Dark were all gone the next day. Fuck!)

Irish people really like Cadbury’s choccy. I find it boring and too sweet, personally. And if you look it up (hubby did, I can’t be arsed) Hershey’s has a higher percentage of cocoa than Cadbury’s. So there. It’s closer to “real chocolate” than Cadbury’s. That doesn’t matter and there is no point in saying so – Cadbury is an English company but they had a factory here – had – and the loyalty and habit runs deep.

I told hubby about my joyous discovery upon the Filing Cabinet of Future Pudginess. And even though he knows Hershey’s is better quality, he still said, ‘yuck.’

And then he said something else. ‘The Kisses are good, but the plain Hershey Bar is just awful.’

‘Bullshit,’ sez I. ‘I bet you wouldn’t know the difference between them based on the taste! If I chopped them up so you couldn’t tell from the shape which was which, you’d never know the difference.’

He of course insisted that would never happen. And a challenge was born, because I love calling out someone when they are wrong…Game on.

That was Thursday, and I didn’t expect any of the stash to still be left today. I underestimated the hatred these people have for the Hershey, PA, treat: the Krackle, Mr Goodbar, and the freakin’ Special Dark were decimated, but plenty of Kisses and Bars remained. And Resse’s, yay! Irish people also think peanut butter is icky.

I took one of each.

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Contestant number one. So innocent and shiny.

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Contestant number two. Bigger, more threatening.

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Not so scary now, chopped down to size.

I put on my best American Movie Trailer Announcer Voice (I have a talent for this voice. Ask the women in the office) and pulled Himself into the kitchen for the Great Hershey’s Taste Test! Complete with me making up a terrible theme tune to get him in the mood.

He got a wee spoonful of each. Then he asked for another taste, and I was allowed to mix the spoons up so he wouldn’t know if he got them in the same order.

I give him mucho credit, he took it very seriously.

First sample, he had no opinion. Second one, he said it tasted smoother. Third, he didn’t say much. Fourth, he said it was the better of the two.

His final guess – one and three were the same, two and four were the same.

Correct!

As to which was which? Totally wrong. Both times.

He made sure to repeat over and over how terrible they both were afterward though.

Battle Royale, with Cheese

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Right, so, I’ve been sitting on these pics for a little while. I didn’t feel much like doing much, and I still don’t, but I had three days off and got some schtuff done around the house and I’m trying to force myself to be interactive. Sort of the idea behind forcing yourself to smile so you’ll feel better. Endolphins or endorkings or sommat like that.

Yes, I know the right word. I just like the idea of the chemicals in my brain being either dolphins or dorks; either splashing about happily in my brain juice or sitting in the corner like a classic eejit in a dunce hat.

I suspect I have more endorkings.

Oh lawd. I’ve now taught my iPad that endorkings is a real word that it can finish spelling for me.

Anyhoo, the forcing effort freaked me out a bit today when I decided to visit all the blog posts I’ve been skipping. My inbox said I had no unread messages, but when I went to the next page I found 19 of them from mid-September. Gmail lied to me. Unread means unread – not ‘you haven’t read any of the three dozen you can see at one time.’ I hate hate hate having unread mail! I might choose to ignore it until later: but not even glanced at? uh-uh. Makes me feel like such a lazy slug. And I hate hate hate slugs.

In any case I promised a kitty-battle. And I was reminded again when I saw all the emails to myself from my iPhone. There should be a better way, and I’m sure there is, but that’s what I do.

They aren’t that old, only from the 4th. Terrible quality, the boys were fast and um, well, furious. Damn Vin Diesel and his crappy petrol-laden series of movies.

Here’s how it got started.

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You can understand perhaps why this caused affront to Spot. But he had been trying to mount his brother for about two weeks prior to the Battle Royale, so I think patient Lokii had some payback coming.

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Spot didn’t think so.

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Yes, I just sat there and clicked away. I’m a bad mom.

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Lokii tried to escape, as Spot was being really, really mean. He came toward me, as a supposed safe haven. Ha.

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There is no attempted rape going on here. Nothing to see.

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Um, I think I will retract that last statement.

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Spot had a wee lie-down on the couch in between skirmishes three and four. Lokii hunched down below his eye level, but my phone or finger wasn’t quite fast enough to get the entire pounce!

And then back to normal, disgustingly cute, ear-cleaning, kitty-brotherly-lurve in front of the fire when they got tired.

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Oh, just write something FFS.

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Yes, just write something, anything, get the fingers moving and the brain-juice flowing! I don’t mean you, I mean me!

I finished all of the published Game of Thrones books. I had seven titles in my library, and Wikipedia informed me that there were seven books, and they all have titles, etc. and then I finished book five and went to open book six… and it’s not even written yet. My other two titles were short stories. DAMMIT! So… I’m having withdrawals.

And I also had a root canal yesterday. Go, me. I went to the dentist Tuesday eve, because I’ve been fighting off a toothache for a few weeks, and then while chewing some gum one tooth did this horrible sucking pulling suction thing with the gum and it hurt. So I gave up on fighting it off with Listerine and floss and got an appointment that day. I knew my efforts weren’t working anyway – my glands have been swollen and my ear hurt and I got my first cold sore in over a year. Definitely had an infection going on. DAMMIT.

Had three X-rays and a new dentist at the practice. He was less than impressed with the quality of my fillings and told me the sore tooth needed a root canal (me, not surprised, I know my teeth are shit) and that there is infection in another tooth as well on the other side of my mouth. And the filling on that one is so big that once the old filling came out, the root would be right there, and probably turn into another root canal. And he’d like to fix at least six other teeth.

DAMMIT.

Ok, sez I, this does not surprise me. I know my teeth are shit, sez I (to a bit of eye-widening from New Dentist who probably expected an American to not say shit, or have crappy teeth). This is why I have dental insurance and kept it even when I didn’t have a job, sez I. Let’s just fix the one that hurts and we’ll get to the rest, sez I.

Okay, sez he – and sends me out to make an appointment. Um, no work to be done today? No? Right, okay…appointment.

Earliest they could get me in was November 23rd. What what what? Right, okay – I understand, and I’m not in pain unless I use that side of my mouth, and I’ll keep up with the mouthwash and floss until then… I’ll be grand.

Until I got home and starting thinking about the fact I have an infection in my head. And it already bothers me. And I’d have to put up with it for over a month. I decided to ring the dentist the next day to ask for antibiotics.

It didn’t quite work out that easily, and I don’t feel like typing all that out. But I got a call around noon on Thursday asking if I could come in for stage 1 of root canal the next day. Why yes, yes I can.

So that’s me half-done, I have a temporary filling in and still have the Nov 23rd appt to finish it off. But… It’s a lower, back tooth that has gone bad and the poor fella can not get to it. I can’t open my mouth any wider to make room.

Insert joke here.

My jaw is sore as hell from the 1.5 hours I already had, and he’s frustrated too. I’m a good dental patient, I don’t fight or fuss and I don’t hate him for doing what he has to do. I even can, and do, turn my tongue sideways to keep it out of the way. I just have a small mouth.

Yes, yes, go ahead and laugh some more.

And I still have another bad tooth, and I’m fresh out of cash… anyhoo, this whole thing might be part of why I’ve been off my game lately, here and elsewhere.

I’m going to post pics of kitties having a bad-ass battle next.

Unintentional hiatus…

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I had a very busy weekend last. Staying up until 3:30 am Saturday night helping iDJ with, well, being a DJ – for a double 21st in a pub, no less – was tiring, especially with all the raw fresh testosterone that was liberally flung about when the ‘never a bother, nice boys’ got into fight after fight.

Sunday was the All-Ireland GAA final, and my county was one of the runners. The underdog. I’ve linked to Peternal to show a bit of the support we had here, but it was MAD, MAD I TELL YOU. They painted the white stripes and words on the roads red and green for Mayo. Every business and home on the main street had something red and green or outright supporting our lads.

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The Sam Maguire Cup at my workplace – but sadly won’t be back for a while…next year?

Not going to the pub to watch the match was not a choice… even with work on Monday looming large. We met up with Peternal and settled in, and – I know, this is hard to believe – I was the only one of age in the pub, and the only of our group of three, who held off on having a drink until after 5 pm. When the game was over. And Mayo had lost to Donegal. Well played, Donegal – at least it wasn’t Dublin or Kerry!

But after that? It was like Paddy’s Day. Imagine if Mayo had won!!! We drank in…1,2,3,4, FIVE pubs before heading to the takeout for dinner after midnight. And no, that’s never one drink per pub. Not even for our slow-drinking Canadian.

Monday = ouch.

Monday night = watching a movie and eating early and going to bed on time.

Tuesday = I don’t want to even look at the 60+ emails with blog updates, comments, etc that have piled up since Saturday eve.

Because I’m also reading Game of Thrones. Sorry, folks… I needed a break! Sorry if I’m only today getting around to reading your posts, and usually only hitting ‘like.’ I also am making an experimental dinner and we had an electrician call around to fix the hot water heater – which has been dead since my last shower – which was on the 16th.

Aren’t you glad blogs don’t have Smell-o-Vision?

Live! Nude! Plant sex organs!

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Pssst. Hey. C’mere. I gots sommat you might like to see! Shhh, not so loud! You wanna bring the heat down on us? These are young ones, spread for your pleasure! Not even a year old!

*_*

Ewww, I just made myself a bit sick with that, sorry. A joke too far, clearly! I think it was the use of ‘spread’ that was too much. But open, or ripe, or fertile would have been just as bad…

In any case, I have more plant pictures. And yes, they are mostly of their sexual organs: usually called flowers by sane people. Plants just have much, much more attractive ‘bits’ than mammals do. I own a mirror, and know how to use Google. Trust me, the plants are way better at ‘pretty.’

And it’s a good thing, as evidenced by the plethora of bees I’ve had this weekend. I was so glad to have them back – I’ve not seen any since spring. They aren’t impressed with the rudbeckia, it being a northern American plant, but they love the lobelia and the devil’s-bit scabious I dug out of the ground by the railway tracks two years ago.

I didn’t take any pics of the bees. That would really be pushing the boundaries of plant porn: inter-class sex. I’d get this post banned, even if I do rate my own blog XXX so the kiddies won’t be offended when I say ‘cuss words.’ (I’ll never be Freshly Pressed because of this, ho-hum.)

So! Who wants to see plant bits? I do, I do!

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Rudbeckia! As I’ve said, I’ve never grown this before. As predicted, hubby loves it! I also didn’t realise it is the ‘black-eyed-Susan’ I’ve heard of all my life. I also didn’t know there’s like a bazillion varieties. Most of mine look like the above, but some look like this:

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I’m happy with them! The blooms last weeks, yay! And they are sure to last after the rest of my babies die off from chill and wind.

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My white and purple calla lilies – they only seem get started just when the afore-mentioned wind and rain sets in.

I’m not too upset about the lack of flowers, the spotted foliage is amazing. Like the skin of a salamander or an alien being.

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Speaking of aliens, this is a macro shot of the finished cosmos flowers I snipped off, to encourage more blooms. I was going to compost this, until the shiny, waxy surface caught my eye and made me look closer. Doesn’t look real, does it? Too perfect, too veiny, and too strange. The seed heads are only about the size of a thumbnail. Neat!

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This is why I have trouble trimming plants. Deadheading feels like beheading when I find such unexpected glories.

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This is the one surviving raspberry plant, grown from seed this year. It’s teeny-tiny, but it was so tiny up until now I couldn’t even take a pic. The other five plants didn’t make it. I learned that berry seeds need high heat for a while before they will germinate. About the same amount of heat they’d get passing through an animal’s digestive tract. Duh! That’s a trial-and error education, by the way.
Please ignore the moss growing on my soil.

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Lastly, my hot mess of flowers. This pic is the only reason I started this post – last weekend! You might recall this planter from a previous post, when I’d nearly forgotten what was in it. My how they’ve grown, despite taking a header off the kitchen windowsill two days after that post! I had to move them to the ugly location here (maybe next year we’ll paint that wall. I wanted to do a mural – maybe a beach scene). There’s a coleus from seed in that shot too – two years old, I overwintered it indoors and it was fine.

Right, this has been the most labour-intensive post ever. I couldn’t get the photos right. Too big or too small, in the wrong place, or adding in a hyperlink I never asked for. I give up! Yes, of course I have more pics…

More snooze alarming

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I don’t know what’s going on with me lately, but I have some serious thoughts in the 10-minute snooze gap. I’m sort of half-awake, half-hallucinating, half-intellectual, half-bad at mathematics.

Today I wondered if digital clocks have any internal parts that rotate. If they do, what direction do they turn? Are they still really digital if the rotation is clockwise? Is it still really a clock if the turn is anticlockwise?

No wonder I never hit snooze more than once a morning.

Pizza angst

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I have to poke fun at iDJ tonight. He makes low-carb pizza once a week, and every time he does, I hear him chastising himself for being OCD about the placement of toppings. I’d like to be able to say it is all in fun, but he really does make a quick meal take ages because he has to have a bit of every topping in every bite. Poor dear. I tried to tell him that you don’t necessarily want every bite to be identical, and I got bitten myself for my ignorance!

So now I get to poke gentle fun at him. No crushed red pepper pain allowed! Here’s his finished product.

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Beautiful, isn’t it? Especially aesthetically pleasing is how every black olive seems to be equidistant from the next. And the pepperoni. And under the cheese, the mushrooms will be as evenly spaced…

Wish he was as attentive to other things! But I guess I should stuff my mouth with this lovely food he worked so hard on, and not bitch about the rest!

(Best pizza in months, by the way! Nom nom nom…)

Snooze alarming

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This morning, in the surreal 10 minutes I allow myself between snooze alarms, I had a Commodore 64 text-only game half-dream wherein your “soul” left your body when you hit the snooze, and if you slept through it, you would turn into a goblin.

The “soul” was a lower-case p, by the way.

I used the above as a FB status update today at 8pm because at 8am it still felt too visual for a short synopsis. I’m not entirely sure if a goblin really was the thing you’d turn into, or if it was a game I was playing in the dream, or if my dream idea of a ‘soul’ just happened to look like a lower-case, slightly green ‘p’ on a black background and my waking brain decided it was an old computer game.

Does anyone remember the text-only game DND? It’s really the only text game I ever played, in 1990, on a Tandy 1000EX. I had graph paper and I mapped out all of the dungeon levels so I wouldn’t get lost. I fudged the truth on FB as no one remembers the Tandy but most would recall the Commodore 64 or 128. We had a 128, hahahah, suck it, you peons who only had the 64-bit version! Our Dad has always been great for keeping up with computers, technology and gaming. We even had an Atari. My older sister liked Frogger best, but I was mad for the Q-man. I played Q-Bert until I got too good at it, and turned the joystick upside down and played it that way as a challenge, until that got boring. And then I realised the whole time I was playing it on the ‘easy’ level. When I switched it to ‘hard’ it kicked my ass and I gave up.

Well I went off on a tangent there, didn’t I. Guess that’s what a blog is for. Mine, anyway.

I have no idea what might happen if you slept all the way through a snooze alarm, I’m just incapable of doing so. Does it give up and stop eventually? Or could it be that the part that makes you you will slip off into the ether, or ethernet, forever?

Random no. 3? 4? I’ve lost track…

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I forgot about this last night. I knew I had something of real importance to talk about!

For some unknown godawful reason, the Irish think that having a bird shit on you is lucky. I learned this at a wedding we attended that was held in an ancient, re-consecrated church with no roof. It did have a lot of annoyed birds who wanted us to leave them alone, and they let us know this in the way birds do best.

I really hope the bride got the crap stains out of her dress, it was rather nice.

Anyhoo, this odd belief came to mind yesterday when I was sitting outside, reading or playing one of my ‘stupid games’, and a bird flew past and shit all over my iPad. It sounded like rocks landing on it from a height and looked like the bird had eaten something unpleasant.

I don’t feel very lucky, despite the fact none got in my hair.

Ooo.

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I have no idea where I’m going with this post so bear with me! Just again feel the need to write, to reach out, and see what happens.

First off I use the WP app to write new posts – rarely for comments – so it was a surprise to realise the update I downloaded over the weekend made a lot of changes. Hence the ‘ooo.’ There’s all kinds of swiping and whatnot instead of the Microsoft-training we all have of closing or ‘x-ing’ out of something. And man, just then: attempting to get the iPad to accept x-ing was a trial… Second time, it’s a winner! I love this stupid thing.

Stupid thing is now a year old! My iPad is a year old. I never wanted it, never even considered it as something I would need. And now? Like a Texan’s firearm, you’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands. Yes, I’m teasing my Texas friends here – I seem to have quite a few and none of you fit that stereotype; I know it well but had to poke fun. Feel free to tease me for being a southerner myself, or an Irish drunk with a bad temper! Apparently I am both. Well, part Irish. I do say I’ve taken to the drinking aspect of the culture quite nicely. And I was born in NewJersey – go have a look on a map where the Mason-Dixon line was! Sigh. I can still speak ‘southrin’ any time I want, which entertains Irish people to a great extent. I think hubby only married me because I can do that. I need a south-Jersey refresher course, though – I end up sounding like Tony Soprano when I try. The bad temper is never going away.

What was I talking about? Meh, who cares. I have sunshine again, on a Monday.

And beer.

Woot!

Wait I need a fresh one. At least I’m not abandoning my empties in the grass like I did on Friday. Man, it was so hot that day my sweat smelled of beer. It might tomorrow at work. Whoops. I better switch back to rum and Pepsi Max after this one. It’s just…beer and sunshine are made for each other. I remember the day I discovered Sam Adams Cherry Wheat beer. I’m not usually a big fan of wheat beer but it was a hot day and I had plenty of them in the fridge, and sun and heat and no where to be. I reeked of cherries. It came out of my pores everywhere, liked I’d bathed in cherry skin-cream. Sort of gross, but by then I really, really, didn’t care.

And that wasn’t even the day I broke my pinky toe by sitting in the sun, drinking, and holding my pee so long that when I finally had to get up – about four or five beers later – I smashed my foot into some stairs and aw, first broken bone ever. I was close to 30 if not past it by then. Probably past it. Wonder if beer makes your bones weak? Or if having a massive-capacity bladder does? Ah well. I broke the same toe about 10 years later, just doing my usual tripping over nothing. Sober (ish) that time. Fun times… sad thing is, I used to be able to wiggle my pinkie toes independent of the rest of my toes, as a party trick, and that one doesn’t bend much any more.

Damn you, cloud, go away!

Better go back and reread and see if I have any point here today…

Ooo. Just hit preview and I have no paragraphs. That is bad…this stream of consciousness style of writing depends on visual breaks or I sound like I’m insane. Which is quite likely but I’m usually good at hiding it better. With paragraphs.

Man that cloud is annoying. Just wide enough to block my sunshine and make me cold. Go away, go away faster! Yes I see you moving, but move faster! And you! you, trailing behind! Move upward. Spiders need solar power.

Right, well, it appears I have nothing to say of any real import. I’m trying, I’m reaching out, because I’m in a good mood today and lately I haven’t been anywhere near a good mood. I’m doing my best to keep up a dialogue and even if it is me talking shite via writing, I imagine you listening and I don’t feel so alone.

Now if that second big-ass cloud would just move it along a bit, I’ll be happy…OMG still no paragraph breaks. Time to go find the help on this new app… Sorry… Will edit afterward so I make a modicum of sense.