Either it's the photo's distortion or that is one bullshit bowl - all rim and hardly any bowl at all. What are you doing, trying to fool yourselves? EAT, DAMN IT, YOU'RE 60 FUCKING YEARS OLD! How the fuck am I supposed to bug you 'til you're 70 if you die before that simply because you're vain? Jesus Christ, woman, get a clue.
It reminds me of living in France, when they'd bring out a bowl of potatoes in milk and claim it's a delicacy. That's not a delicacy, it's fucking war rations, you morons. I don't care how many glasses of wine you have with it, it's still potatoes in milk.
I swear, the inclination of the post-boomer world toward self-deception is going to drive future historians INSANE,...
"stuffed green pepper soup" from the MKE e-paper. Made some insignificant substitutions to avoid shopping on Friday. Also cut it in half. F'n good soup - even when served in un-cool bowls.
I got bowls like that though, just little more than deep dishes. I don't eat a lot of soup so it don't fash me.
Weird but true story, went over my parents house Saturday to go hunting with my Dad. So while he's getting ready Mom and I are talking. She shows me this Bowl on the dining table. "See my new bowl?" she sez. "Yeah, I saw it last time I was over. Looks neat." I replied.
The bowl was painted in a primitive motiff, with shaky blue lines, green splotches I took to represent leave, some red smaller splotches I took to represent fruit of some kind, and red rim.
"Hannah" Mom's great granddaughter, "made it. They've got a place you can buy unfired pottery..." "Yeah, I seen that too, "I Made It" for kids" I said.
"That's her hand prints, and fingers".
"I can see that now" I say.
"When did you see it? You said you saw it before" Mom said. "Last time I was over." I reiterated.
"I got the bowl Thursday, Thanksgiving" she said. "Okay." I replied. "Have you been over since then? You weren't here for Thanksgiving, you didn't come over yesterday...When did you see it?"
"The last time I was...", and then it struck me. I couldn't possibly have seen that bowl before. But I distinctly remember seeing it. I remember seeing and I remember thinking "There's Mom's new bowl." If I had to swear on my life, I would swear that I saw that bowl before, at her house, on her table.
I know the mind plays tricks on us. I also know that there is more to the universe than we will ever know.
Oh please, the verification word is "criermed" crier med?
Ever get the feeling that God has a blast dicking around with us?
Fancy restaurants are nice, but you get food made with heart in the out of the way places.
In Austin there was a chinese seafood place across the street from my hotel. They had a fish tank. You ordered fish they would scoop one out and that was it. Had a scallops with garlic and pepper sauce to die for. Place looked like a garage on the outside. Cinder block, and peeling paint, no stripes painted on the parking lot. If you go there and get the pepper sauce DO NOT bite the small peppers on the stalks. I lost all taste for thirty minutes and went through 11 napkins wiping my face off.
Place I used to go in Lake Wales Fl. You had to know a local to find it. No signs. Just drive back a dirt road for 3/4 mile, park where you could, walk the rest of the way. Place sat on a lake, 3 walls floor to ceiling windows. Fresh baked bread brought to your table till you were done. Every night had a different specialty, and thats what you got. Sometimes they ran out and you got something, just not as good. One time a old guy with a gym bag walked in, sat down, opened up the bag to reveal a dozen harmonicas. Played all night. Surreal.
One last one. Went duck hunting with Dad, Uncle's, another 8 guys. Cold and wet, we straggled into this place that was getting set to close. Seeing our bedraggled state they set us down took our orders, gave us the check and we paid then so they could close the register. Then they brought out our food. Then they brought a second serving for everyone. Then they just brought food period. Said it was going to be thrown away anyway, so have at it. Even the dogs got pork chops that night. :-)
OMG Maxine Waters to take over retiring Barney Franks house Budget Chairmanship!! Hilarity to soon follow, then destitution. We are so fucked.
One of the Lefts brightest lights of insanity to handle American financials as the EU sputters to insolvancy.
I blame you Dallas. Why you let crazy people run is beyond me.
“Guess what this liberal would be all about? This liberal would be about socializing … uh, umm. … Would be about, basically, taking over, and the government running all of your companies.”--M. Waters, 2008
“I was amazed. I really was. I didn’t say anything to anybody. I just watched—the Republicans were out there—they were having a great time. They were laughing, they were waving the American flag, they were egging them on, and I thought that was outrageous behavior. I really did.”--2010
“We do not have a crisis at Freddie Mac, and particularly Fannie Mae, under the outstanding leadership of Frank Raines.”--2004
“If you call it a riot, it sounds like it was just a bunch of crazy people who went out and did bad things for no reason. I maintain it was somewhat understandable, if not acceptable. So I call it a rebellion.”
“The President is a liar. Dick Cheney, the chief architect of the Big Lie, is not only a liar, he is a thief.”--2005
The blog is loading faster than then it was for last 2 days. There is still some hesitation, but my CPU in the Task Manager isn't going all 100% anymore. I noticed that the problem started when the post about Skull Crack Bob's drawings showed up. It's now not on the front page. So, there's that.
Maybe someone here knows this, I'm having trouble figuring it out.
I have a wireless G linksys router, it's hybrid 4 port wired ethernet and the wireless hotspot. But now I need more wired ports and we suddenly have about 5 wireless devices we're trying to use. Due to the location (which can't be altered) of the router some areas of the house get poor signal strength.
What I want to do is get another router with more ports (8), put it in this location, then move the hybrid wireless router to a more central location.
Can I cascade 2 routers together like that? I'd have an 8-port wired router at the network entrance, then have the hybrid dangling off one port at a remote (actually a more central) spot. Anyone know, and if so how difficult is it to pull off technically? Do I need to buy another linksys brand router to make it easier?
Have they jettisoned those original volleys and replaced them with somebody that miraculously had an extended affair with him?
I'm hungry for details, but the MSM has been pretty stingy.
Its about the details. If Cain can manage a 13 year relationship with a woman besides his wife and keep it a secret, that is a qualification that I can get behind. Not promoting, but admiring the management skill.
One of the ways I was able to lose 60 lbs. over a decade was to have hot soup for lunch. It doesn't matter to me if it's a calorie rich soup. However, I love some healthy soups[beef barley, lentil,etc.]. Having a hot meal, particularly midday, keeps you satisfied for hours.
We've evolved into a cold lunch culture, which is one of the contributors to our obesity.
I agree with you about the dietary effect of soup for lunch, nd, but I don't agree with the notion that there's not enough hot lunch going around. I think the problem is too much hot lunch of the wrong kind: Culver's, Hardee's, et.al.
Calypso, I don't consider burgers or any type sandwich a hot lunch..tepid maybe. Now, you can get decent soups @ Culvers. I eat chili often. Being diabetic I get a lot of protein which also keeps you satisfied. You have to spice up chili in Wisconsin w/ hot sauce. Wendy's also has pretty good chili.
"The last time I was...", and then it struck me. I couldn't possibly have seen that bowl before. But I distinctly remember seeing it. I remember seeing and I remember thinking "There's Mom's new bowl." If I had to swear on my life, I would swear that I saw that bowl before, at her house, on her table.
I know the mind plays tricks on us. I also know that there is more to the universe than we will ever know.
Oh please, the verification word is "criermed" crier med?
Ever get the feeling that God has a blast dicking around with us?
Yep - like not giving me the pattern recognition software that allows him to receive credit. My theory? The brain's making up a portion of what we think is true. This is, partially, why I think facts and critical thinking are so important - as a way to anchor ourselves in reality. Without them, we're just feeling shit and acting like those feelings are the end-all-be-all when, really, it's just that hunka hunka grey matter, floating in fluid, acting fluidly. Do NOT trust it.
Before my divorce, I hardly dreamed at all. They came so rarely I tended to write them down because they were so vivid and magical. (I just smiled to myself, while remembering a couple, because it gives me such comfort to know such things are happening up there. Artists can be lucky that way.) But now I dream often, for me, and ALL of them are nightmares. So terrifying I dread closing my eyes the next night, and will do anything to stay awake because they're VIVID to the point of microscopic detail. The guy who made "Saw" has got nothing on me - especially because my mind doesn't allow that we're on the same side.
I know what it is, or I think I do - in my case, it's the plate of contradictions my wife lift me that go unresolved. When I was married and famous, she'd wake me up in the middle of the night to ask me if I'd leave her. I understood her insecurity - girls liked me, or the fact guys respected me - but I still couldn't help treating it like the silliest question I'd ever heard because it was: I loved my wife and, as a foster child, breaking up my family was about as far from my mind as you could get - my life was finally on the "right path," y'know?
But there was a reason she was up at night, and it wasn't all worries about me. The NewAge cult rituals and other blarmy those nutjobs were filling her with bothered her. She'd tell me of her problems sleeping, but not of that nonsense, so I had no way to interpret what was happening to, maybe, be of help. But this homeopathic quack she met? Well, he was *perfectly* placed to hear ALL of her bullshit and come up with a cure - called his dick - behind my back,...
Anyway, my brain - which has been pretty well trained to deal/cope with human foibles - can't make sense of this one. And practically blames me, as Ollie did Stan, for "getting us into this." So it's not planning on letting me off the hook until the damned thing is resolved, which - I'm 100% sure - it will be: NewAgers, as stupid as they are, can't hide anything for long.
My point is, look at your brain as the other, because it is. As smart as you think you are usually, there's a permanent resident upstairs, blasting his stereo as he tears up the walls with throwing stars and his homemade "Jackass" movies play. Remember Oliver Stone's great period, with "Natural Born Killers" and "JFK" and all that wildness? It's like that.
Sometimes, I can't help but stand in awe that we've done anything as a species, considering.
I just went and made coffee, and that got me to think of one more thing:
All that I said above, about the working of the mind, is why I insist it's so important to admit, as you did with your mom, when you're wrong (Ann, Garage - are you listening?) because deception is such a cruel thing.
We NEED to know what's true, to calm the beast upstairs. Look at this woman accusing Herman Cain. If she's lying - and it seems it'll be pretty easy to discover if she is - she's going to have MAJOR PROBLEMS coming down the road, because the public exposure is going to play havoc with her mental state, both, at night and during her waking state. Not to mention wrecking everything Cain has done - his presidential ambitions, possibly his marriage, etc. - it's just horrible.
That people, generally, don't get that - that a Bawney Fwank could be we-ewected for 16 years is boggling my mind these days - is a recipe for our collective disaster. We deserve all the ugliness we're dealing with now, as a country, for that very oversight. As I've always said, the boomers have a LOT to answer for, but the idea that "life is just an illusion" and/or "you can believe what you want to believe" are the worst.
That no one will ever pay, for accepting it, was the biggest lie of that misbegotten generation's entire contribution to humanity.
Peter Hoh, The professor issued an edict that she will accept no free speech critiques about shilling for Amazon. It's called The Thin Skin Proclamation issued last weekend.
"Peter Hoh, The professor issued an edict that she will accept no free speech critiques about shilling for Amazon. It's called The Thin Skin Proclamation issued last weekend."
I'm trying to help people not be boring. The things that have been said and said and said. Move on.
My point is, look at your brain as the other, because it is.
Re: Dreams.. I find this topic fascinating. My hubby and I share our dreams in the morning. My dreams are usually detailed, involved and have plots, twists and turns and often make we wonder....where the hell does this stuff come from in my head?
Sometimes the dream thoughts are disturbing and scary.....who IS this person who can dream up this stuff? Other times, funny and creative. Cool ideas or interesting new takes on things that I hadn't thought of before.
We also have begun writing down the 'dream plots' and ideas because as the days go on they fade away.
The other in the brain idea is also based in some reality and biology. Check out the "Alien Hand Syndrome"
The things that have been said and said and said. Move on.
This part, Pete, is called The Boomer Denial Factor. (I've done whole posts on the NewAge use of the phrase "move on" - MoveOn.org? Started by an astrologer,...) The Boomer Denial Factor is when people can say things, over and over, and THE BOOMER NEVER LISTENS. Why should they? Ethics? Come on. There's no right or wrong in BoomerWorld:
Just whatever they want,...
Sorry, Ann, but by shutting down comments - on the blog with the ultimate free speech policy - you're playing right into the charge of hypocrisy, to the fullest.
Also, "move on" - I love how boomers are steeped (trapped) in NewAge lingo and ideas. They'll deny it until the day they die, but, man, that ol' Maharishi really did a job on 'em,...
Ah, I haven't been reading every post, so I wasn't aware that comments were off for the amazon link posts. I just wanted to say a few things about toys and post the following link: 5 Best Toys of All Time.
Professor, You should know better than to bullshit me. There are threads that go on and on and are incredibly boring. This is one that just penetrates your translucent epidermus[didn't want to be boring]. But, to try and spin this as a noble censorship, as protecting the huddled masses from boredom, well that is just too fucking precious. A jury would laugh you out of the courtroom w/ that bullshit.
I just thought of the ultimate irony that I hope isn't too boring. By censoring you are almost certainly hurting sales. People who love you and suck up will of course use Amazon. People who don't like you will not. The majority of folks sit in the middle. They come to a free speech blog and see criticism cut off arbitrarily. Pretty good chance they'll not use your link. Unlike yourself, I operated a business for 30 years. It's bad business professor.
But I was also thinking about how I came to Althouse in the first place. Back when Ann was aimlessly wandering the streets of Brooklyn Heights. Until Glenn saved her.
ND - Too late because thanks to waterboarding, Crack confessed to living in France. So we can be damn sure he was forced to eat their soup. At least for a time. Probably that NewAge stuff made from finely ground twigs and fresh squirrel droppings. With parsley (par-slay in Paris).
Meanwhile, Le Censor soup is served with one slice of Wonder bread and 8oz of tap water: Re; inmate-in-training.
ND - Too late because thanks to waterboarding, Crack confessed to living in France. So we can be damn sure he was forced to eat their soup. At least for a time. Probably that NewAge stuff made from finely ground twigs and fresh squirrel droppings. With parsley (par-slay in Paris).
Oh, I did everything, for a while. But with each visit, it got older and more trying for this American palate (you have to remember Americans are used to a selection that's waaay broader than France's and we don't necessarily eat at set times) so then I started pissing them off - by eating what I wanted. That started whispering campaigns ("Why is going into the kabob place?") attempts at control (there's no time, you see, to stop at the one place that sells American style fried chicken) food snobbery (glancing at the cherished discovery of a TV dinner and sneering "Bon Appetite") and anything else they could think of. Truly bizarre.
But it works the other way, too:
My wife's brother, Claude (seen here in the white sweater) comes to San Francisco for a visit and she leaves we boys alone for the day. I give him the full-on tour, which includes lots of bars and some of the best weed money can buy. Good weed, of course, eventually leads to the munchies but, rather than shoving a bag of Doritos in his face, I'm going to introduce what's supposed to be my best French friend to the full compliment of California cuisine. Day One - Mexican.
I take this sleepy eyed fool to a high-end joint, with fresh all-natural ingredients, and buy two of everything they've got (we're stoned, right?) Then we stop at an alternative video store to pick up a bunch of pre-Jackass-type movies (only the best when you're hanging with me, folks) and I lay out the whole spread before the TV for a late afternoon of laughter, more smoking, and gastrointestinal tests of strength worthy of Festivus.
So what does this genius do? While I've got my back to him, he takes a huge bite out of a fucking tamale - still in the husk - and then goes fucking berserk! "You Americans don't know how to eat! This is not food! Are you trying to kill me? Corn is for chickens! " Blah, blah, fucking blah. It took me, like, an hour to calm this dumbshit down. I'm like, "Dude, you were supposed to unwrap it,..." which just pissed him off all over again because, now, I'm supposedly calling him an idiot.
Anyway, by the time my wife got home, instead of finding her two goofily grinning men in a state of fat-and-happy stoner bliss, she finds me wearing a blasting pair of headphones and an expression that says, "Don't look at me," as her bonehead brother stomps around the house like little Napolean ready to refight Cinco de Mayo.
I suppose if you lived in Peoria, or Madison, Paris might look pretty good - but from San Francisco, it's apparently a dilapidated, culinary wasteland, and a shock to the senses.
But maybe also because I consider Frisco the greatest city on earth. From there, even from Market Street, it's all down hill with Paris at the bottom.
I hitchhiked 3,000 miles to get there once, to Frisco, arriving with 40-cents in my pocket. And I was sitting on a bench on Market Street when I picked up a discarded newspaper and spotted the following in the employment section: "Help Wanted, No Salary". And I thought, people in SF are so desperate, and crazy, they'll work for nothin'. In all my 21 years, I'd never heard of such a thing.
In fact, it was an exchange: I wash their dishes, they give me room and board. I still remember the place: The Monroe Residence Club, on Sacramento Street. I believe it's still there.
A month later, I was running the city - the greatest city on earth.
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59 comments:
Really do like cream soups of almost any favor! These look great.
Is that horseradish dip for the fries? If not, why not?
Enjoy your meal, looks great and probably is delicious.
Oh, that looks great! Will you please tell us the name of the restaurant?
That is a good looking $20 soup with truffle oil sprinkled over it..
Where is that soup from Whore? It looks fab.
I am going to be in Madison December 18-25.
Let's finally meet. Leave the wife home.
You won't regret it.
This is kind of funny. Poor Russian newslady accidentally gave Obama the finger, having no idea that's an insult in our country. So she was fired.
Should have thrown a shoe at his head. Then she'd be a hero!
Either it's the photo's distortion or that is one bullshit bowl - all rim and hardly any bowl at all. What are you doing, trying to fool yourselves? EAT, DAMN IT, YOU'RE 60 FUCKING YEARS OLD! How the fuck am I supposed to bug you 'til you're 70 if you die before that simply because you're vain? Jesus Christ, woman, get a clue.
It reminds me of living in France, when they'd bring out a bowl of potatoes in milk and claim it's a delicacy. That's not a delicacy, it's fucking war rations, you morons. I don't care how many glasses of wine you have with it, it's still potatoes in milk.
I swear, the inclination of the post-boomer world toward self-deception is going to drive future historians INSANE,...
"stuffed green pepper soup" from the MKE e-paper.
Made some insignificant substitutions to avoid shopping on Friday. Also cut it in half.
F'n good soup - even when served in un-cool bowls.
At the Hot Soup Cafe...
You can fry your brain.
Butternut Squash, perchance?
WV: "prefub" = just before FUBAR, and see, "prefubescent"
Good looking soup but the visual medium really doesn't capture the quintessence of a good soup.lobster bisque,anyone?
@ Crack Emcee
Funny stuff.
I got bowls like that though, just little more than deep dishes. I don't eat a lot of soup so it don't fash me.
Weird but true story, went over my parents house Saturday to go hunting with my Dad. So while he's getting ready Mom and I are talking. She shows me this Bowl on the dining table. "See my new bowl?" she sez. "Yeah, I saw it last time I was over. Looks neat." I replied.
The bowl was painted in a primitive motiff, with shaky blue lines, green splotches I took to represent leave, some red smaller splotches I took to represent fruit of some kind, and red rim.
"Hannah" Mom's great granddaughter, "made it. They've got a place you can buy unfired pottery..." "Yeah, I seen that too, "I Made It" for kids" I said.
"That's her hand prints, and fingers".
"I can see that now" I say.
"When did you see it? You said you saw it before" Mom said. "Last time I was over." I reiterated.
"I got the bowl Thursday, Thanksgiving" she said. "Okay." I replied. "Have you been over since then? You weren't here for Thanksgiving, you didn't come over yesterday...When did you see it?"
"The last time I was...", and then it struck me. I couldn't possibly have seen that bowl before. But I distinctly remember seeing it. I remember seeing and I remember thinking "There's Mom's new bowl." If I had to swear on my life, I would swear that I saw that bowl before, at her house, on her table.
I know the mind plays tricks on us. I also know that there is more to the universe than we will ever know.
Oh please, the verification word is "criermed" crier med?
Ever get the feeling that God has a blast dicking around with us?
Fancy restaurants are nice, but you get food made with heart in the out of the way places.
In Austin there was a chinese seafood place across the street from my hotel. They had a fish tank. You ordered fish they would scoop one out and that was it. Had a scallops with garlic and pepper sauce to die for. Place looked like a garage on the outside. Cinder block, and peeling paint, no stripes painted on the parking lot. If you go there and get the pepper sauce DO NOT bite the small peppers on the stalks. I lost all taste for thirty minutes and went through 11 napkins wiping my face off.
Place I used to go in Lake Wales Fl. You had to know a local to find it. No signs. Just drive back a dirt road for 3/4 mile, park where you could, walk the rest of the way. Place sat on a lake, 3 walls floor to ceiling windows. Fresh baked bread brought to your table till you were done. Every night had a different specialty, and thats what you got. Sometimes they ran out and you got something, just not as good. One time a old guy with a gym bag walked in, sat down, opened up the bag to reveal a dozen harmonicas. Played all night. Surreal.
One last one. Went duck hunting with Dad, Uncle's, another 8 guys. Cold and wet, we straggled into this place that was getting set to close. Seeing our bedraggled state they set us down took our orders, gave us the check and we paid then so they could close the register. Then they brought out our food. Then they brought a second serving for everyone. Then they just brought food period. Said it was going to be thrown away anyway, so have at it. Even the dogs got pork chops that night. :-)
Darcysport was telling me about how she prepared an intricate soup with expensive truffles recently. It wouldn't be this, would it?
That Darcy. We love her so.
Cheers,
Victoria
wv: stalia!!!
That's one n removed from "Stalina", i.e. Svetlana, who died on Monday. I'm telling you, Blogger KNOWS.
OMG Maxine Waters to take over retiring Barney Franks house Budget Chairmanship!! Hilarity to soon follow, then destitution. We are so fucked.
One of the Lefts brightest lights of insanity to handle American financials as the EU sputters to insolvancy.
I blame you Dallas. Why you let crazy people run is beyond me.
“Guess what this liberal would be all about? This liberal would be about socializing … uh, umm. … Would be about, basically, taking over, and the government running all of your companies.”--M. Waters, 2008
“I was amazed. I really was. I didn’t say anything to anybody. I just watched—the Republicans were out there—they were having a great time. They were laughing, they were waving the American flag, they were egging them on, and I thought that was outrageous behavior. I really did.”--2010
“We do not have a crisis at Freddie Mac, and particularly Fannie Mae, under the outstanding leadership of Frank Raines.”--2004
“If you call it a riot, it sounds like it was just a bunch of crazy people who went out and did bad things for no reason. I maintain it was somewhat understandable, if not acceptable. So I call it a rebellion.”
“The President is a liar. Dick Cheney, the chief architect of the Big Lie, is not only a liar, he is a thief.”--2005
My apologies Dallas, Waters is from LA. My bad. LA! Fie on you!
Observations:
The blog is loading faster than then it was for last 2 days. There is still some hesitation, but my CPU in the Task Manager isn't going all 100% anymore. I noticed that the problem started when the post about Skull Crack Bob's drawings showed up. It's now not on the front page. So, there's that.
WV: vaggings
Stuffed green pepper, eh?
The Blonde would love it, but not as a cream soup. Too much of a headache.
Saint Croix said...
This is kind of funny. Poor Russian newslady accidentally gave Obama the finger, having no idea that's an insult in our country. So she was fired.
Should have thrown a shoe at his head. Then she'd be a hero!
No matter; to many people, she's a heroine.
PS Hey, vb, glad to see you.
Maybe someone here knows this, I'm having trouble figuring it out.
I have a wireless G linksys router, it's hybrid 4 port wired ethernet and the wireless hotspot. But now I need more wired ports and we suddenly have about 5 wireless devices we're trying to use. Due to the location (which can't be altered) of the router some areas of the house get poor signal strength.
What I want to do is get another router with more ports (8), put it in this location, then move the hybrid wireless router to a more central location.
Can I cascade 2 routers together like that? I'd have an 8-port wired router at the network entrance, then have the hybrid dangling off one port at a remote (actually a more central) spot. Anyone know, and if so how difficult is it to pull off technically? Do I need to buy another linksys brand router to make it easier?
Observations II:
The blog is loading faster than then it was for last 2 days.
When unable to ascertain whether the word "than" or "then" is appropriate, use both. It seems the CPU in my head, doesn't reach 1% most days.
WV: jarrack
According to the Washington Times, Herman's new accuser has a track record not unlike the cougar who got Gloria Allred to front for her.
In addition to being a stalker.
Looks delicious - chicken tortilla???
I love soup.
Whats the latest on the Herman Cain accusers?
Have they jettisoned those original volleys and replaced them with somebody that miraculously had an extended affair with him?
I'm hungry for details, but the MSM has been pretty stingy.
Its about the details. If Cain can manage a 13 year relationship with a woman besides his wife and keep it a secret, that is a qualification that I can get behind. Not promoting, but admiring the management skill.
I'll have to take a picture of the dog's lunch and my lunch, so that correct portion size can be calibrated.
Way late to this party, but agree with carnifex--the most fun places to eat are the strip mall restaurants that feature real ethnic cooking.
Looks good...where is this?
Heck with the soup- those fries look great!
Tuscan soup with ditalini, and pancetta base.
Nice picture, lots of wood. Always lots of wood.
One of the ways I was able to lose 60 lbs. over a decade was to have hot soup for lunch. It doesn't matter to me if it's a calorie rich soup. However, I love some healthy soups[beef barley, lentil,etc.]. Having a hot meal, particularly midday, keeps you satisfied for hours.
We've evolved into a cold lunch culture, which is one of the contributors to our obesity.
I agree with you about the dietary effect of soup for lunch, nd, but I don't agree with the notion that there's not enough hot lunch going around. I think the problem is too much hot lunch of the wrong kind: Culver's, Hardee's, et.al.
Calypso, I don't consider burgers or any type sandwich a hot lunch..tepid maybe. Now, you can get decent soups @ Culvers. I eat chili often. Being diabetic I get a lot of protein which also keeps you satisfied. You have to spice up chili in Wisconsin w/ hot sauce. Wendy's also has pretty good chili.
Carnifex,
"The last time I was...", and then it struck me. I couldn't possibly have seen that bowl before. But I distinctly remember seeing it. I remember seeing and I remember thinking "There's Mom's new bowl." If I had to swear on my life, I would swear that I saw that bowl before, at her house, on her table.
I know the mind plays tricks on us. I also know that there is more to the universe than we will ever know.
Oh please, the verification word is "criermed" crier med?
Ever get the feeling that God has a blast dicking around with us?
Yep - like not giving me the pattern recognition software that allows him to receive credit. My theory? The brain's making up a portion of what we think is true. This is, partially, why I think facts and critical thinking are so important - as a way to anchor ourselves in reality. Without them, we're just feeling shit and acting like those feelings are the end-all-be-all when, really, it's just that hunka hunka grey matter, floating in fluid, acting fluidly. Do NOT trust it.
Before my divorce, I hardly dreamed at all. They came so rarely I tended to write them down because they were so vivid and magical. (I just smiled to myself, while remembering a couple, because it gives me such comfort to know such things are happening up there. Artists can be lucky that way.) But now I dream often, for me, and ALL of them are nightmares. So terrifying I dread closing my eyes the next night, and will do anything to stay awake because they're VIVID to the point of microscopic detail. The guy who made "Saw" has got nothing on me - especially because my mind doesn't allow that we're on the same side.
I know what it is, or I think I do - in my case, it's the plate of contradictions my wife lift me that go unresolved. When I was married and famous, she'd wake me up in the middle of the night to ask me if I'd leave her. I understood her insecurity - girls liked me, or the fact guys respected me - but I still couldn't help treating it like the silliest question I'd ever heard because it was: I loved my wife and, as a foster child, breaking up my family was about as far from my mind as you could get - my life was finally on the "right path," y'know?
But there was a reason she was up at night, and it wasn't all worries about me. The NewAge cult rituals and other blarmy those nutjobs were filling her with bothered her. She'd tell me of her problems sleeping, but not of that nonsense, so I had no way to interpret what was happening to, maybe, be of help. But this homeopathic quack she met? Well, he was *perfectly* placed to hear ALL of her bullshit and come up with a cure - called his dick - behind my back,...
Anyway, my brain - which has been pretty well trained to deal/cope with human foibles - can't make sense of this one. And practically blames me, as Ollie did Stan, for "getting us into this." So it's not planning on letting me off the hook until the damned thing is resolved, which - I'm 100% sure - it will be: NewAgers, as stupid as they are, can't hide anything for long.
My point is, look at your brain as the other, because it is. As smart as you think you are usually, there's a permanent resident upstairs, blasting his stereo as he tears up the walls with throwing stars and his homemade "Jackass" movies play. Remember Oliver Stone's great period, with "Natural Born Killers" and "JFK" and all that wildness? It's like that.
Sometimes, I can't help but stand in awe that we've done anything as a species, considering.
The distortion of the plate in the photo and the yellow soup in the bowl, makes it look like you have a huge fried egg in front of you on the table.
I just went and made coffee, and that got me to think of one more thing:
All that I said above, about the working of the mind, is why I insist it's so important to admit, as you did with your mom, when you're wrong (Ann, Garage - are you listening?) because deception is such a cruel thing.
We NEED to know what's true, to calm the beast upstairs. Look at this woman accusing Herman Cain. If she's lying - and it seems it'll be pretty easy to discover if she is - she's going to have MAJOR PROBLEMS coming down the road, because the public exposure is going to play havoc with her mental state, both, at night and during her waking state. Not to mention wrecking everything Cain has done - his presidential ambitions, possibly his marriage, etc. - it's just horrible.
That people, generally, don't get that - that a Bawney Fwank could be we-ewected for 16 years is boggling my mind these days - is a recipe for our collective disaster. We deserve all the ugliness we're dealing with now, as a country, for that very oversight. As I've always said, the boomers have a LOT to answer for, but the idea that "life is just an illusion" and/or "you can believe what you want to believe" are the worst.
That no one will ever pay, for accepting it, was the biggest lie of that misbegotten generation's entire contribution to humanity.
Why can't I post a comment to the toy post?
Peter Hoh, The professor issued an edict that she will accept no free speech critiques about shilling for Amazon. It's called The Thin Skin Proclamation issued last weekend.
"Peter Hoh, The professor issued an edict that she will accept no free speech critiques about shilling for Amazon. It's called The Thin Skin Proclamation issued last weekend."
I'm trying to help people not be boring. The things that have been said and said and said. Move on.
@ Crack
My point is, look at your brain as the other, because it is.
Re: Dreams.. I find this topic fascinating. My hubby and I share our dreams in the morning. My dreams are usually detailed, involved and have plots, twists and turns and often make we wonder....where the hell does this stuff come from in my head?
Sometimes the dream thoughts are disturbing and scary.....who IS this person who can dream up this stuff? Other times, funny and creative. Cool ideas or interesting new takes on things that I hadn't thought of before.
We also have begun writing down the 'dream plots' and ideas because as the days go on they fade away.
The other in the brain idea is also based in some reality and biology. Check out the "Alien Hand Syndrome"
Ann Althouse,
The things that have been said and said and said. Move on.
This part, Pete, is called The Boomer Denial Factor. (I've done whole posts on the NewAge use of the phrase "move on" - MoveOn.org? Started by an astrologer,...) The Boomer Denial Factor is when people can say things, over and over, and THE BOOMER NEVER LISTENS. Why should they? Ethics? Come on. There's no right or wrong in BoomerWorld:
Just whatever they want,...
Sorry, Ann, but by shutting down comments - on the blog with the ultimate free speech policy - you're playing right into the charge of hypocrisy, to the fullest.
BTW, Ann, if you don't like the comments on your marketing, just don't read 'em.
Sheesh, how hard is that?
Also, "move on" - I love how boomers are steeped (trapped) in NewAge lingo and ideas. They'll deny it until the day they die, but, man, that ol' Maharishi really did a job on 'em,...
Ah, I haven't been reading every post, so I wasn't aware that comments were off for the amazon link posts. I just wanted to say a few things about toys and post the following link: 5 Best Toys of All Time.
Annie NarcissaHouse rants on
For just $19.95/mo you can get Amazon Link-free debate and commentary at Althou.se!
Did you dine at an Amish restaurant?
That's quite a dutch angle.
I expect Cesar Romero to show up.
Proper portion sizes:
pic
Dog's lunch (left), brown rice and carrots.
My lunch (right): same, with pepper, garlic, butter, olive oil and salsa.
Presentation is everything.
Professor, You should know better than to bullshit me. There are threads that go on and on and are incredibly boring. This is one that just penetrates your translucent epidermus[didn't want to be boring]. But, to try and spin this as a noble censorship, as protecting the huddled masses from boredom, well that is just too fucking precious. A jury would laugh you out of the courtroom w/ that bullshit.
Oh..the soup looks very good.
All this over a freakin' bowl of soup? Which is [also], btw, beans (navy) in a blender.
And again, I love it when Crack comes out of his shell.
I just thought of the ultimate irony that I hope isn't too boring. By censoring you are almost certainly hurting sales. People who love you and suck up will of course use Amazon. People who don't like you will not. The majority of folks sit in the middle. They come to a free speech blog and see criticism cut off arbitrarily. Pretty good chance they'll not use your link. Unlike yourself, I operated a business for 30 years. It's bad business professor.
Almost Ali, the soup is metaphorical, not bean.
ND, a metaphor on a metaphor.
But I was also thinking about how I came to Althouse in the first place. Back when Ann was aimlessly wandering the streets of Brooklyn Heights. Until Glenn saved her.
Anyway, I want my prize for Le Censor soup!
Looks good.
Karl, are you a nihilist?
Almost Ali..hilarious. You get the Golden Soup Spoon Award for Le Censor soup. I assume it will be served w/ a nice baquette and glass of chardonnay?
We know Crack won't be ordering no stinking French soup!!
ND - Too late because thanks to waterboarding, Crack confessed to living in France. So we can be damn sure he was forced to eat their soup. At least for a time. Probably that NewAge stuff made from finely ground twigs and fresh squirrel droppings. With parsley (par-slay in Paris).
Meanwhile, Le Censor soup is served with one slice of Wonder bread and 8oz of tap water: Re; inmate-in-training.
Almost Ali,
ND - Too late because thanks to waterboarding, Crack confessed to living in France. So we can be damn sure he was forced to eat their soup. At least for a time. Probably that NewAge stuff made from finely ground twigs and fresh squirrel droppings. With parsley (par-slay in Paris).
Oh, I did everything, for a while. But with each visit, it got older and more trying for this American palate (you have to remember Americans are used to a selection that's waaay broader than France's and we don't necessarily eat at set times) so then I started pissing them off - by eating what I wanted. That started whispering campaigns ("Why is going into the kabob place?") attempts at control (there's no time, you see, to stop at the one place that sells American style fried chicken) food snobbery (glancing at the cherished discovery of a TV dinner and sneering "Bon Appetite") and anything else they could think of. Truly bizarre.
But it works the other way, too:
My wife's brother, Claude (seen here in the white sweater) comes to San Francisco for a visit and she leaves we boys alone for the day. I give him the full-on tour, which includes lots of bars and some of the best weed money can buy. Good weed, of course, eventually leads to the munchies but, rather than shoving a bag of Doritos in his face, I'm going to introduce what's supposed to be my best French friend to the full compliment of California cuisine. Day One - Mexican.
I take this sleepy eyed fool to a high-end joint, with fresh all-natural ingredients, and buy two of everything they've got (we're stoned, right?) Then we stop at an alternative video store to pick up a bunch of pre-Jackass-type movies (only the best when you're hanging with me, folks) and I lay out the whole spread before the TV for a late afternoon of laughter, more smoking, and gastrointestinal tests of strength worthy of Festivus.
So what does this genius do? While I've got my back to him, he takes a huge bite out of a fucking tamale - still in the husk - and then goes fucking berserk! "You Americans don't know how to eat! This is not food! Are you trying to kill me? Corn is for chickens! " Blah, blah, fucking blah. It took me, like, an hour to calm this dumbshit down. I'm like, "Dude, you were supposed to unwrap it,..." which just pissed him off all over again because, now, I'm supposedly calling him an idiot.
Anyway, by the time my wife got home, instead of finding her two goofily grinning men in a state of fat-and-happy stoner bliss, she finds me wearing a blasting pair of headphones and an expression that says, "Don't look at me," as her bonehead brother stomps around the house like little Napolean ready to refight Cinco de Mayo.
Needless to say, French food stories are some of my favorites,...
Great post [as usual], Crack.
I suppose if you lived in Peoria, or Madison, Paris might look pretty good - but from San Francisco, it's apparently a dilapidated, culinary wasteland, and a shock to the senses.
But maybe also because I consider Frisco the greatest city on earth. From there, even from Market Street, it's all down hill with Paris at the bottom.
I hitchhiked 3,000 miles to get there once, to Frisco, arriving with 40-cents in my pocket. And I was sitting on a bench on Market Street when I picked up a discarded newspaper and spotted the following in the employment section: "Help Wanted, No Salary". And I thought, people in SF are so desperate, and crazy, they'll work for nothin'. In all my 21 years, I'd never heard of such a thing.
In fact, it was an exchange: I wash their dishes, they give me room and board. I still remember the place: The Monroe Residence Club, on Sacramento Street. I believe it's still there.
A month later, I was running the city - the greatest city on earth.
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