D was feeling a little under the weather so we let him pick our dining venue for tonight. He chose “one of the American ones”. The “American ones” are Monti and Independence Hall so, since we were at the Monti last night and variety is the spice of life, we drove off to IH.
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Food Prep Basics
I’m by no means a master chef but it seems to me that to prepare a meal one has to, minimally, cut shit up and heat shit up. A’s giant broccoli from hell indicates a failure in the letter of the former and my tepid hamburger, while it may have been heated at one time, indicates a failure in spirit of the latter. Oh, and I would have heated up my own bun in the toaster to disguise some of its staleness but there was no goddamn toaster. Hell, if you’re not gonna heat shit up at least let us do it ourselves!
So, A takes a swig of his bottled water and says “Hey, J. What do you think of the Emirates (brand) water?” J takes a swig, grimaces slightly and says “Oh yeah, that’s kinda funky”. Then he proceeds to take another gulp of it! What the fuck? Then he finished the bottle even after I tried to caution him, through mockery, against drinking it. Understandably, given the varying standard of personal hygiene around here, J has a policy of not letting his ass touch a toilet seat from the time he leaves the hotel in Dubai until he returns to it. He says he “hovers” and claims it is good for his quads which I think are the thigh muscles. I suspect that funky water is gonna give his legs quite a work out over the next few days.
No, U Fucking Pluck!
I grew up in a city but now live in a pretty rural area. We have lots of farms near us selling apples, strawberries, raspberries etc. Many of them feature large signs advertising “U-Pick”. I don’t get it. That’s what we have goddam farmers for, isn’t it? I’ve read Tom Sawyer. The bastards are trying to make me do their jobs…and probably one of the crappiest parts of it…out in a field with bugs and shit. So now, here I am off in KAF and the DFAC guys are trying to pull the same stunt. This time, instead of “U-Pick”, it’s “U-Pluck”. D got chicken wings tonight and they still had fucking feathers on them! Sure, the feathers were fried and crispy but I hardly think that makes it ok. This scam didn’t work on me in rural Nova Scotia and it sure as hell ain’t gonna work in KAF. U-fucking-pluck.
The cherry pie was good.
“Principles have no real force except when one is well-fed. – Mark Twain”