..I don't find torture funny nor do I think it should be sanctioned by any country considering itself civilized nor am I looking to enter into debate as to what does or doesn't constitute torture. That said, when I read this article about the use of music as a means to wear down prisoners at Guantanamo and came to the following paragraph specifically I burst out laughing.
Based on documents that already have been made public and interviews with former detainees, the archive says the play list featured cuts from AC/DC, Britney Spears, the Bee Gees, Marilyn Manson and many other groups. The Meow mix cat food jingle, the Barney theme song and an assortment of Sesame Street tunes also were pumped into detainee cells.
Read through that list carefully again. You have to admit it's a pretty broad range of musical horror though and sounds like the basis of a skit on Saturday Night Live detailing the meeting of minds which generated the lists of artists to include. In what other context could Barney be standing alongside Marilyn Manson? I don't disagree with any of that play list and would consider most of it torturous to listen to. I don't mind a few things by AC/DC and I have fond memories of Sesame Street but a constant barrage of them would be a bit much. I will admit to engaging in my own musical torture any time someone complains about having a song stuck in their head. I immediately begin singing the Barney Song until my victim threatens me with bodily harm. Sheesh, they don't even thank me for dislodging whatever tune was troubling them earlier. Such ingratitude.
To this list I would be forced to add Bjork, Air Supply, Yoko Ono, Neil Diamond, Ozzy Osbourne, and experimental jazz music (which to my apparently unsophisticated ear sounds like the musicians are forever just tuning up). Who would you add?
Showing posts with label absurdity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label absurdity. Show all posts
Monday, October 26, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Slice of Lime-Keeping Abreast of Things
Sunday, I wore a new dress (the one in the picture above) to church and received a number of compliments on it. I thanked people for their kind words but then one lady and her husband went on to ask where I had acquired the dress. It's a rather odd story and since this particular couple are closer friends than just casual Sunday morning pew mates I shared the story.
Some time ago I was approached by the church secretary who is roughly my size and shape with one particular difference, or perhaps two, depending upon your rendering. She walked over to me, coffee in hand, looking me up and down and said, "I bought a dress some time ago but I have found I can't quite fill it out adequately up at the top. I'm thinking it would work better on you since you're...uh....well, er...um...you'd just fill it out better than I do. Are you interested?" I am frugal and I hate clothes shopping so the offer of free clothing someone thinks might actually look half decent on me saves me both money and the trauma of fitting rooms. I said, "Sure."
At this point the wife of the couple to whom I was relating the story began convulsing with laughter and the husband nearly spit his coffee out before adding, "So she must have thought to herself, 'Who in in the church has a rack?'" I responded, "Yep, reading down the church directory and thinking "Gozangas...Gozangas....Yeah! she's got a set!"
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
For Your Enjoyment...
...since I am still busy being the MacGuyver of crafty ladies.
If you can keep a straight face through this ad you either have far better self-control than I do or you are entirely devoid of a funny bone.
If you can keep a straight face through this ad you either have far better self-control than I do or you are entirely devoid of a funny bone.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Hit Me With Your Best Shot...But Only Metaphorically
It has been confirmed that I have sustained a concussion. I hasten to add it was through no fault of my own therefore it did not occur as a result of any risk taking behavior. This means the story of how I sustained said concussion is just not very interesting so I need your help to polish it up and make it worthy of the symptoms and the orders to rest.
The orders to rest are somewhat at odds with the flurry of activity in the next 2 weeks surrounding Diana's impending graduation and party, Calypso's Sweet 16 party, the end of Isaac's baseball season, and the arrival of my mother-in-law on Saturday. I am also still waiting to hear if I got the job I applied for. I am told I am in the final running and my references are being checked before my file is forwarded to the diversity office.
I have declared today pajama day with a general moratorium on driving the mom taxi...mostly. So give me an exciting story to go with the foggy brain I have sloshing around in my skull. Be creative. Be outlandish. Make me heroic. Make me astounding. Feel free to include Hugh Jackman.
The orders to rest are somewhat at odds with the flurry of activity in the next 2 weeks surrounding Diana's impending graduation and party, Calypso's Sweet 16 party, the end of Isaac's baseball season, and the arrival of my mother-in-law on Saturday. I am also still waiting to hear if I got the job I applied for. I am told I am in the final running and my references are being checked before my file is forwarded to the diversity office.
I have declared today pajama day with a general moratorium on driving the mom taxi...mostly. So give me an exciting story to go with the foggy brain I have sloshing around in my skull. Be creative. Be outlandish. Make me heroic. Make me astounding. Feel free to include Hugh Jackman.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Fancy Memeing You Here.
Retired and Crazy has tagged me.
7 things I plan to do before I die
1. Finish this meme
2. Find a pair of jeans that doesn't make my butt look big or else hook up with Sir Mixalot.
3. Reconstruct the 7 wonders of the world in mashed potatoes
4. Figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop
5. Paint my kitchen.
6. Sort through the junk in the 2 boxes I have yet to unpack from when I moved 5 years ago.
7. Develop some loftier goals.
7 things I do now
1. Produce ATP
2. Convert oxygen into CO2
3. Eat
4. Digest my food
5. Eliminate waste
6. Slough off gazillions of dead skin cells
7. Live a life of wild ambition, I mean really...just look at that list.
7 things I can’t do
1. Defy the laws of physics...as evidenced by my ziplining misadventure.
2. Explain quantum physics
3. Remember the words to Olivia Newton-John's "Let's Get Physical."
4. Remember much of the Mandarin I once learned. Heck, I can't even count to 7 in Mandarin anymore.
5. Wear a mandarin collar. They bug me.
6. Collar a crook.
7. Walk a crooked mile. Well, ok, I probably could but then I'd be limping off to the chiropractor.
7 things that attract me to the opposite sex
1. Cheesy pick up lines
2. Mad alphabetizing skillz
3. Timely payments
4. Powerful magnets
5. Delicate features
6. My basic heterosexual drives
7. When he does that....ooooh....uh-huh....oh honey...*gasp*......mmmm.....
7 things I say most often
1. The last time me and Mrs. Gassman played with your keys we put them right back.
2. AAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
3. @#!%&*&^#$%^$!!!! (It's really hard to pronounce but the up arrows indicate sounds like those clicking people make. The vowel sound that corresponds to the ampersand is trickiest, especially when it's in a digraph with the asterisk.)
4. Whatever the sound of one eyebrow rising makes.
5. Were you raised by wolves?
6. Supercallifragillisticsexpialladocious
7. Go back to your own damn state, you festering pustule on the ass of humanity. (Oh wait, this one I only say in my head. Does that still count?)
7 celebrities I admire
1. Paris Hilton, for her intellect
2. Britney Spears, for her fashion sense
3. Lindsey Lohan, for her charm and class
4 & 5. Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus, for their self restraint in avoiding overexposure by saturating every conceivable market...not to mention their musical genius.
6. William Shatner, for his nuanced portrayals
7. Phil Spector, for his great hair
And to add a category from Palm Springs Savant's Saturday Seven....7 Random Things found in my house.
1. A replica of a famous forefather's mansion. Said forefather was an early settler in Pennsylvania and a noted local abolitionist.
2. A penis gourd...hanging on the china closet. Kind of a What Not to Wear meets Top Design bit of decor, no?
3. A stuffed armadillo I bought in Texas because when Isaac was very little he had a bad dream and spoke in his sleep about needing an stuffed armadillo to draw on. He was very upset because we were all out of stuffed armadillos. The only thing that got him back to bed was to promise I'd get him one as soon as I could. It took a while but I kept my promise.
4. Pendulum Man on a backdrop of Magnetic Poetry. He's a real swinger when pushed to it.
5. A Christmas decoration hanging in the kitchen doorway. No, I am not decorating already. It's been hanging there since last year because I didn't realize I missed it when packing things up to put them away and the idea of dragging out the boxes of decorations from the crawl space before this Advent season was more than I was willing to do. Mr. Lime curses it on a daily basis because he bangs his head on it.
6. A dried up orange peel hanging in my kitchen. It's a Trinidadian remedy for a gassy belly. Break off a big chunk and steep it in boiling water like tea.
7. An embroidery project I made for my dad when I was 11. When I went to help my stepmother clean her house a couple weeks ago before her knee replacement surgery we uncovered this and she presented it to me. There is a strange jumble of memories that go with this. I'm thinking I might frame it and hang it in my kitchen...if I ever get it painted.
Finally, VE tagged me to share the most embarrassing songs I will admit to owning. He said he can't wait to see me do this straight. Now how a guy who says I shred memes more than he does can honestly expect me to do this straight is beyond me. Thus it shall be...
7 songs I have mortified a family member with (Keep in mind, VE, this makes it a ThemThem)
1. Kiss by Prince. My kids will not allow me to play this in the kitchen if they have friends over because, as Diana puts it, all I need is a pole and fishnets.
2. Love Shack by the B-52s. I have been in the grocery store when this came on. I danced down the frozen food aisle. The kids pretended I was off my meds that day.
3. Who Let the Dogs Out by the Baha Men. After a 15 hour drive to visit the mother-in-law, who lives in an upscale gated community, we checked through the gate then put this on at full blast and rolled the windows down. We let it finish playing as we danced in the driveway.
4. Some random and vaguely calypso sounding piece of garbage. At a wedding reception the DJ played some generic island music and "instructed" folks how to dance to it. His rendition looked like C-3PO trying to use a hula hoop and people were following his lead. It was appalling. When he made everyone circle up and invited a volunteer into the center to demonstrate they'd learned his moves I went in and showed 'em how it's really done. All yuh would know since I lived in Trinidad I could get on bad and wine dem hips and shake meh bamsee. It caused a mild uproar and afterward a guy at my table asked for a lap dance (I declined). No, I was not drunk. It was a dry reception. Mr. Lime was not pleased with me. Sorry, the reputation of the islands was being besmirched with that crap. I had to do something.
5. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Everyone in our house loves this song....when I sing it, not so much.
6. The Barney Song. Whenever someone gripes about having a song stuck in their head I sing this to them. I have had things thrown at me and been called very nasty names. Such ingratitude!
7. For this I will give VE the one straight answer I have for this particular theme, and it's not a single song but an entire album. Drumroll, please....
Kristy and Jimmy McNichol's album. I was 10 years old when this ridiculous thing was released. Lacking any taste at all, I spent my allowance on it.
Shaddup. Just shaddup...
7 things I plan to do before I die
1. Finish this meme
2. Find a pair of jeans that doesn't make my butt look big or else hook up with Sir Mixalot.
3. Reconstruct the 7 wonders of the world in mashed potatoes
4. Figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop
5. Paint my kitchen.
6. Sort through the junk in the 2 boxes I have yet to unpack from when I moved 5 years ago.
7. Develop some loftier goals.
7 things I do now
1. Produce ATP
2. Convert oxygen into CO2
3. Eat
4. Digest my food
5. Eliminate waste
6. Slough off gazillions of dead skin cells
7. Live a life of wild ambition, I mean really...just look at that list.
7 things I can’t do
1. Defy the laws of physics...as evidenced by my ziplining misadventure.
2. Explain quantum physics
3. Remember the words to Olivia Newton-John's "Let's Get Physical."
4. Remember much of the Mandarin I once learned. Heck, I can't even count to 7 in Mandarin anymore.
5. Wear a mandarin collar. They bug me.
6. Collar a crook.
7. Walk a crooked mile. Well, ok, I probably could but then I'd be limping off to the chiropractor.
7 things that attract me to the opposite sex
1. Cheesy pick up lines
2. Mad alphabetizing skillz
3. Timely payments
4. Powerful magnets
5. Delicate features
6. My basic heterosexual drives
7. When he does that....ooooh....uh-huh....oh honey...*gasp*......mmmm.....
7 things I say most often
1. The last time me and Mrs. Gassman played with your keys we put them right back.
2. AAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
3. @#!%&*&^#$%^$!!!! (It's really hard to pronounce but the up arrows indicate sounds like those clicking people make. The vowel sound that corresponds to the ampersand is trickiest, especially when it's in a digraph with the asterisk.)
4. Whatever the sound of one eyebrow rising makes.
5. Were you raised by wolves?
6. Supercallifragillisticsexpialladocious
7. Go back to your own damn state, you festering pustule on the ass of humanity. (Oh wait, this one I only say in my head. Does that still count?)
7 celebrities I admire
1. Paris Hilton, for her intellect
2. Britney Spears, for her fashion sense
3. Lindsey Lohan, for her charm and class
4 & 5. Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus, for their self restraint in avoiding overexposure by saturating every conceivable market...not to mention their musical genius.
6. William Shatner, for his nuanced portrayals
7. Phil Spector, for his great hair
And to add a category from Palm Springs Savant's Saturday Seven....7 Random Things found in my house.
1. A replica of a famous forefather's mansion. Said forefather was an early settler in Pennsylvania and a noted local abolitionist.
2. A penis gourd...hanging on the china closet. Kind of a What Not to Wear meets Top Design bit of decor, no?
3. A stuffed armadillo I bought in Texas because when Isaac was very little he had a bad dream and spoke in his sleep about needing an stuffed armadillo to draw on. He was very upset because we were all out of stuffed armadillos. The only thing that got him back to bed was to promise I'd get him one as soon as I could. It took a while but I kept my promise.
4. Pendulum Man on a backdrop of Magnetic Poetry. He's a real swinger when pushed to it.
5. A Christmas decoration hanging in the kitchen doorway. No, I am not decorating already. It's been hanging there since last year because I didn't realize I missed it when packing things up to put them away and the idea of dragging out the boxes of decorations from the crawl space before this Advent season was more than I was willing to do. Mr. Lime curses it on a daily basis because he bangs his head on it.
6. A dried up orange peel hanging in my kitchen. It's a Trinidadian remedy for a gassy belly. Break off a big chunk and steep it in boiling water like tea.
7. An embroidery project I made for my dad when I was 11. When I went to help my stepmother clean her house a couple weeks ago before her knee replacement surgery we uncovered this and she presented it to me. There is a strange jumble of memories that go with this. I'm thinking I might frame it and hang it in my kitchen...if I ever get it painted.
Finally, VE tagged me to share the most embarrassing songs I will admit to owning. He said he can't wait to see me do this straight. Now how a guy who says I shred memes more than he does can honestly expect me to do this straight is beyond me. Thus it shall be...
7 songs I have mortified a family member with (Keep in mind, VE, this makes it a ThemThem)
1. Kiss by Prince. My kids will not allow me to play this in the kitchen if they have friends over because, as Diana puts it, all I need is a pole and fishnets.
2. Love Shack by the B-52s. I have been in the grocery store when this came on. I danced down the frozen food aisle. The kids pretended I was off my meds that day.
3. Who Let the Dogs Out by the Baha Men. After a 15 hour drive to visit the mother-in-law, who lives in an upscale gated community, we checked through the gate then put this on at full blast and rolled the windows down. We let it finish playing as we danced in the driveway.
4. Some random and vaguely calypso sounding piece of garbage. At a wedding reception the DJ played some generic island music and "instructed" folks how to dance to it. His rendition looked like C-3PO trying to use a hula hoop and people were following his lead. It was appalling. When he made everyone circle up and invited a volunteer into the center to demonstrate they'd learned his moves I went in and showed 'em how it's really done. All yuh would know since I lived in Trinidad I could get on bad and wine dem hips and shake meh bamsee. It caused a mild uproar and afterward a guy at my table asked for a lap dance (I declined). No, I was not drunk. It was a dry reception. Mr. Lime was not pleased with me. Sorry, the reputation of the islands was being besmirched with that crap. I had to do something.
5. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Everyone in our house loves this song....when I sing it, not so much.
6. The Barney Song. Whenever someone gripes about having a song stuck in their head I sing this to them. I have had things thrown at me and been called very nasty names. Such ingratitude!
7. For this I will give VE the one straight answer I have for this particular theme, and it's not a single song but an entire album. Drumroll, please....
Kristy and Jimmy McNichol's album. I was 10 years old when this ridiculous thing was released. Lacking any taste at all, I spent my allowance on it.
Shaddup. Just shaddup...
Friday, January 11, 2008
They're on to Me
*No Friday 55 or Da Count today. Just a bit of absurdity inspired by an overzealous cart checker.
There I was pushing an over-sized cart at the discount grocery warehouse that bears a name with a crude sexual reference. (It always made me wonder if they were intent on gratifying their customers or implying their own service just blows.) After minutes of agonizing thought I'd come up with a brilliant plan, a menu-derived shopping list that was sure to win raves from the hungry teenagers in my house. Today was the day I'd finally get my chance to bring it all to fruition and NOBODY was going to stop me. I grabbed a cart, threw my earth-friendly canvas shopping bags in the bottom, and looked over my shoulder before I slid the list from my pocket.
I shuffled up and down the aisles cultivating the same blank look as the other patrons so as to avoid drawing unwanted attention to myself. I've been in this business almost 20 years. You just can't be too careful. The biggest challenge for me is matching the moseying pace of of the seemingly undead herd when all I want is to execute my brilliant plan and bask in the glory of its completion. Nonetheless, I was careful to plod along dully so I could blend in. I'd come this far and didn't want to mess it up now.
Value packs of cod and flounder fillets, institutional sized boxes of breakfast cereal and crackers, multipacks of various canned goods all went into my cart. I grabbed a bag of organic apples and a jug of skim milk too just to keep up the appearances of being a conscientious mother feeding hungry hordes. I was sure the fist of coupons I handed the cashier would help in that regard as well. I kept it casual as I unloaded the cart onto the conveyor belt and chatted with the cashier. Even when she said I could keep the really heavy items in the cart and she'd scan them where they sat I chucked them up on the belt declaring to everyone in earshot that I had nothing terribly burdensome. In retrospect that may have been my undoing. I was trying too hard.
I paid the bill, took my receipt, and headed for the door. I had just one final hurdle to clear. I'd have to present my receipt and cart at the exit for inspection. On any other day I would have lucked out and gotten James, the sweet retired man with an Irish brogue, who always winked and sent me on my way with barely a glance at receipt or cart contents. I may even have been fortunate enough to pass under the gaze of Chandra who empathized with all the mothers struggling to feed their brood without needing to resort to exotic dancing for grocery money. Not this day. Today I'd have to endure the scrutiny of Carlos. How Carlos affords the bling which hangs so heavily around his neck on the wages of a door checker I'm not sure. It could be that, just like me, there is more to Carlos than meets the eye.
I slowed the cart to a stop and smiled as I handed the receipt to Carlos meeting his gaze through his fashion eye wear. Keep it cool, girl, you're almost home. He scanned the slip slowly before eying my cart suspiciously. I considered remarking how easy it is to fill one of these rattling buggies to overflowing when you haven't shopped since before Christmas but thought better of it and remained silent. It's a simple rule, better to not begin offering excuses until one is asked to defend oneself. My reticence proved futile anyway when Carlos asked about the 36 count variety pack.
"So you only have one of those, right?"
"36 pack of what?"
"I dunno, it just says 36 count variety pack?"
I spied the big yellow '36' in bubble print standing out on the box of pudding cups and pointed casually, "Yep, right there it is. That's plenty of pudding for my crew. Just one box." He wasn't buying it and continued to search as he peered suspiciously over the rims of his rhinestone encrusted glasses.
"Lotta items in your cart. You sure there's only one box of pudding?"
"Yep, just one." I offered tersely. And then I noticed among the pins on his employee vest, obscured by the gold cutout of his name, was the piece that identified him as a member of the rival gelatin syndicate that had been moving in on the territory of my boss's control of the Mid-Atlantic pudding cartel. The shifty eyes of that custard lackey had been hidden behind his subtly ombre shaded lenses. I leaned in and let him know I was on to him. "Listen, cart man. I'm Tapioca McFlan." He couldn't hide the fear my name struck in his heart. "That's right, I'm right hand to the biggest runner of congealed desserts on the east coast, Big Daddy Knox Blox. Now you just step back and let this cart pass or you may find yourself in the Delaware River wearing a pair of Jello overshoes, you hear?"
Carlos got a little cocky for a moment and retorted, "But Jello floats."
"Not when you substitute gravel for the mandarin oranges and bananas in the mold, you pudding headed, ninny! Now I'm gonna tell you only one more time to let me on my way."
Carlos shook like the half-gelled mess he really was while I stood firm as a creme brulee and stared him down. He meekly stepped aside and I strode out knowing Big Daddy Knox Blox and Tap McFlan had a firm grip on the pudding trade and my kids would get their fix.
There I was pushing an over-sized cart at the discount grocery warehouse that bears a name with a crude sexual reference. (It always made me wonder if they were intent on gratifying their customers or implying their own service just blows.) After minutes of agonizing thought I'd come up with a brilliant plan, a menu-derived shopping list that was sure to win raves from the hungry teenagers in my house. Today was the day I'd finally get my chance to bring it all to fruition and NOBODY was going to stop me. I grabbed a cart, threw my earth-friendly canvas shopping bags in the bottom, and looked over my shoulder before I slid the list from my pocket.
I shuffled up and down the aisles cultivating the same blank look as the other patrons so as to avoid drawing unwanted attention to myself. I've been in this business almost 20 years. You just can't be too careful. The biggest challenge for me is matching the moseying pace of of the seemingly undead herd when all I want is to execute my brilliant plan and bask in the glory of its completion. Nonetheless, I was careful to plod along dully so I could blend in. I'd come this far and didn't want to mess it up now.
Value packs of cod and flounder fillets, institutional sized boxes of breakfast cereal and crackers, multipacks of various canned goods all went into my cart. I grabbed a bag of organic apples and a jug of skim milk too just to keep up the appearances of being a conscientious mother feeding hungry hordes. I was sure the fist of coupons I handed the cashier would help in that regard as well. I kept it casual as I unloaded the cart onto the conveyor belt and chatted with the cashier. Even when she said I could keep the really heavy items in the cart and she'd scan them where they sat I chucked them up on the belt declaring to everyone in earshot that I had nothing terribly burdensome. In retrospect that may have been my undoing. I was trying too hard.
I paid the bill, took my receipt, and headed for the door. I had just one final hurdle to clear. I'd have to present my receipt and cart at the exit for inspection. On any other day I would have lucked out and gotten James, the sweet retired man with an Irish brogue, who always winked and sent me on my way with barely a glance at receipt or cart contents. I may even have been fortunate enough to pass under the gaze of Chandra who empathized with all the mothers struggling to feed their brood without needing to resort to exotic dancing for grocery money. Not this day. Today I'd have to endure the scrutiny of Carlos. How Carlos affords the bling which hangs so heavily around his neck on the wages of a door checker I'm not sure. It could be that, just like me, there is more to Carlos than meets the eye.
I slowed the cart to a stop and smiled as I handed the receipt to Carlos meeting his gaze through his fashion eye wear. Keep it cool, girl, you're almost home. He scanned the slip slowly before eying my cart suspiciously. I considered remarking how easy it is to fill one of these rattling buggies to overflowing when you haven't shopped since before Christmas but thought better of it and remained silent. It's a simple rule, better to not begin offering excuses until one is asked to defend oneself. My reticence proved futile anyway when Carlos asked about the 36 count variety pack.
"So you only have one of those, right?"
"36 pack of what?"
"I dunno, it just says 36 count variety pack?"
I spied the big yellow '36' in bubble print standing out on the box of pudding cups and pointed casually, "Yep, right there it is. That's plenty of pudding for my crew. Just one box." He wasn't buying it and continued to search as he peered suspiciously over the rims of his rhinestone encrusted glasses.
"Lotta items in your cart. You sure there's only one box of pudding?"
"Yep, just one." I offered tersely. And then I noticed among the pins on his employee vest, obscured by the gold cutout of his name, was the piece that identified him as a member of the rival gelatin syndicate that had been moving in on the territory of my boss's control of the Mid-Atlantic pudding cartel. The shifty eyes of that custard lackey had been hidden behind his subtly ombre shaded lenses. I leaned in and let him know I was on to him. "Listen, cart man. I'm Tapioca McFlan." He couldn't hide the fear my name struck in his heart. "That's right, I'm right hand to the biggest runner of congealed desserts on the east coast, Big Daddy Knox Blox. Now you just step back and let this cart pass or you may find yourself in the Delaware River wearing a pair of Jello overshoes, you hear?"
Carlos got a little cocky for a moment and retorted, "But Jello floats."
"Not when you substitute gravel for the mandarin oranges and bananas in the mold, you pudding headed, ninny! Now I'm gonna tell you only one more time to let me on my way."
Carlos shook like the half-gelled mess he really was while I stood firm as a creme brulee and stared him down. He meekly stepped aside and I strode out knowing Big Daddy Knox Blox and Tap McFlan had a firm grip on the pudding trade and my kids would get their fix.
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