Hot, Hot, Hot
It all started out innocently enough. I had some meat left over from a stew I was making, and not wanting to waste it, I soaked it in teriyaki sauce and then left it in warm oven overnight. Next day: Beef Jerky!
It all started out innocently enough. I had some meat left over from a stew I was making, and not wanting to waste it, I soaked it in teriyaki sauce and then left it in warm oven overnight. Next day: Beef Jerky!
MY SURGERY WAS COMPLETE, so I returned to my humble abode, and did rest. A few beverages, a cold compress to reduce the swelling, and sleep.
THERE ARE FEW THINGS as near and dear to a man as the subject of reproduction. In particular, the tools he uses for the purpose of reproduction.
I DRIVE TO WORK. Thirty-five miles is the exact distance from the end of my driveway to the driveway of my workplace.
THE OCCASION WAS AUSPICIOUS. My wife and I were to sojourn to the Great State of Arkansas, (the Natural State) spend 24 hours with her sister and said sister’s spouse. After that, we would all travel in one vehicle North, until we had reached Missouri (The Show Me State), whereupon we would spend Thanksgiving with my wife’s Father, his wife, and her 2 children.
THERE ARE MANY CHORES that befall a man when he owns a house. Lawn care is traditional in this regard; there are few men who pass up the chance to wander the yard in the company of the lawnmower. In the summer, this task must be performed every two weeks or thereabouts, and it adds still more order to an otherwise well regimented existence. All men know the true meaning of a quietly rhetorical question about the state of the lawn. It means you need to hop to it, man!
“Within every man’s brain, there is a system of alarms that are designed to go off in any situation that would place the man in danger. When you walk on railroad tracks, it tells you, “Get off the tracks.” When your neighbor’s pretty young wife locks herself out of her apartment in her underwear, and comes to your apartment, asking to use your phone, the alarm goes off, telling you, “This looks bad.” (you let her in, of course, because a bigger part of your brain says ‘This looks very good’)”