caroljane

Detroit in its decay produced one of America's greatest contemporary novelists, Marge Piercy.

Hi honey, No, I didn't catch any of the SEA coverage..sorry, a little wardrobe flap and Sasha has a crush on her history teacher, I don't think it's anything to worry about... do you want cherry or blueberry pie for dessert tonight? Your M

Note to wardrobe staff: For all future state meetings Finland, NO CLEAVAGE. Better expand that to all the Scands. The Danish amb. tells me that the Prince Consort is off the leash again.At his age, good Lord. Why don't those guys get a real job. Anyway you can't be too careful, so I'll wear the Temperley we planned for Sweden for the next dinner with the Bidens instead. At least Joe is well trained.

Indeed the very foundation of S-F could be summed up in, "Hairs is Hair."

PDS, you sound like an apt student of my philosophy, as you intuitively note the divisibility of Donald Trump and his hair. The nature and gradations of this divisibility, its kinds and degree, are a major branch of Synaestho-Fatalism.

Oops, I mean synaestho-fatalist. Silly me, to forget that vital step in the evolution of my political philosophy. Frankly, all that destroying stuff just got too tiring, I am not getting any younger. It was the Stanley Cup riots that marked the breakthrough in my intellectual development. Hmmm, the Vaseline element has possibilities... it is more effective and cheaper than name brand moisturizer, I do know that....

Squash does indeed suck, but this recipe actually makes it unsuck. J I have had surprisingly good squash of late, but am fairly certain that it was laden with brown sugar, white wine and "whatnot," which--I am given to understand--our Paleo ancestors were not fond of. Especially the "what not". Have you ever had the sweet potato casserole at Ruth's Chris Steak House? That's pretty much what the squash bake recipe that I posted tastes like. In other words, the other ingredients completely neutralize the squashiness of the squash. J Ah Jonathan, have you not grasped that the essential nature of squashiness cannot be neutralized? Squash is squash is squash. I would take one mouthful of that package deal and discern at once beneath the wine and sugar, the tang of pure evil.

Well OK, if you say so. I'm not a socialist. I will just have to go back to calling myself a synaestho-nihilist again.

If anybody wants to call names, I would prefer idiot savant to lazy bitch. Woof.

The socialist in question was me, reading the story. Please don't make me admit in public that I still can't do links. Alright full disclosure I cannot even cut and paste.

I envy the neighborhood you have just described. Except for the loathsome Starbucks. I feel so lucky to live in this area, especially as the three places next to me were not even there when I moved here. Maybe they saw me coming. My apartment is nothing special but I sure have a great dining room. As I've mentioned before, my block on Gerrard is between Jones Ave and Galt Ave, and that you can run from Rand, but you can't hide.

"It was the right thing to do and it definitely makes the heart feel good." So said John Monroe who chipped in to provide a free wedding reception to a couple who had spent their wedding savings on vet bills for their puppy. The joy of giving, puppies, weddings....God, I love the National Enquirer, without which I would never have come across this story. All this and "Kirstie Pigging out of Control" too. My cup runneth over.

I am not a fan of the Ourbucks either, wait time is too long for overpriced mediocre product. But it opens real early and is useful in emergencies.

I will not be home cooking much in future. I am now entirely surrounded by international cuisine. To my immediate left a new Italian resto is opening next week beside Best Burgers and Poutine, which is beside the Hag & Sporran* (Scottish fusion), which is beside Chinese (feeling the heat of competition.)which is beside Starbucks. Pizza across the street. To my immediate right, Vietnamese, beside Maple Leaf Lunch, best of Canadian...too tired to continue down the street. *These three are all owned by the same guy, naturally a Greek. Oh God, oh Toronto.

Cauliflower florets, cheddar, brown rice,wheat germ, flour, chicken broth. Blend in blender and bake. Dee-lish.

from the Office of the First Lady of the United States to: Yingluck Shinawatra, President of Thailand Dear Lucky, If you thought I was upset by those images of you flirting brazenly with my husband on a state occasion in front of all Southeast Asia, you couldn't be more wrong. I am above petty baseless jealousy, you little tramp. Obviously you get your kicks by hitting on world leaders in public. Therefore I suggest you get together with Arajarvi, the Finnish president's husband. You two were made for each other. And don't expect a state invite to Washington anytime soon. If I can't squash cheap sluts like you, then I'm no Lady. Michelle

That's a heckuva story. Did the doctor know about the book? Meaning, approve of it, particularly for someone in your state? I wonder if you'd brought something by Camus or Kafka whether he'd have told you to toss it.My bet is he didn't, he was just monitoring Stephen's improving ability to concentrate.

Wonderful quote Adam, thanks. Glad your toe is better and you can laugh again.

Oh, raw turnip, plus Blackadder - recipe for me rolling around on the floor! I 've never seen this one before!Thx 9D

No offence to your heritage Michael, but wanting to steal turnips is one of the most irrational crimes I can think of.

I braved the Blaze despite my dread of that Mason jar popping up and read the whole article. I see the dad said , "I'm not much of a father, am I?" So he also believes that if his kids did not turn out the way he wanted, that is his fault.As X-Ray said, narcissist. It is just sad all round.

Correction with apology to my dear Eddie. He did not love turnip, he just ate it with slightly less stoicism than he did his other native dishes, which in Scots constitutes delirious gourmandism.

I am actually eating the chicken now, snap. I will believe you that turnips can be made palatable, although nothing can convince me about squash. My husband as a Scot loved turnip but he only got it once a year when his mother in law would come for Christmas and cook it for him.

Thank you Angela, I value your opinion. Things like this tend to shake down in the subconscious and the solution appears.

Indeed it's the dad himself who is whinging (whining) throughout in that letter ... From the letter: "We are constantly regaled with chapter and verse of the happy, successful lives of the families of our friends and relatives and being asked of news of our own children and grandchildren. I wonder if you realise how we feel — we have nothing to say which reflects any credit on you or us." This seems to be a very image-conscious type who is 'narcistically wounded' because he can't brag to others about his offspring's 'achievements'. Yes, I wish he had known my Ma. She always thought my B+ was better than anybody else's A+.Just as I know my Andy's workboots from Mark's Work Warehouse are better than anyone else's Guccis. "Poor me, poor honourable long-suffering me" comes through clearly. And he uses his wife, as it were, for political purposes. Note the letter is not signed by both of them.