Friday, June 14, 2002
Monday, June 10, 2002
And now.......
What you all have been anxiously waiting for.....
Without further ado....
the infamous....
the ever popular....
Welcome to Jeeem & Louie's Weekly Restaurant Review!
Today we are reviewing:
GEORGE'S BBQ & SEAFOOD CENTER & FAMILY DINING
Tenney Mountain Highway, Plymouth, New Hampshire
Well, it's been a while since I've eaten at this place and it sure has changed. A few years back the place was barn red and looked like it had been plucked off the docks at Gloucester, replete with lobster traps, faded and moldy nets and colorful buoys. Now the outside is sided a light beige and they still have an outside order window and picnic tables to set at. They also have added a deck with tables and umbrellas. The decor inside is new to the point you can still smell the pine. It's fixed up in a nice family atmosphere and very pleasant if you ask me. A local man's paintings hang on the wall and the walls are stenciled in milk paint above the wainscoting.
Louie was a bear today because the waitress took a few minutes to seat us. Once seated, she handed us our menu's and handled Louie like an old pro, sticking right with him blow for blow and smiling to beat the band. She was a real cutie.....all, .....what? Ninety two pounds of her? Green eyes again! I'm a sucker for green eyes but this gal coulda been my daughter.
Oh, sorry....back to the review. Louie and I both ordered the Fisherman's platter. Louie got the rice, coleslaw and the salad with Italian dressing (naturally) and I took the Cajun fries, coleslaw and bluecheese dressing. The salads came out quickly, were plentiful and came with a nice big basket of soft french bread with real butter packets. Louie and I were wolfing down our salads when he noticed something crawling on his leg. Looking down he picked off a tick. About two minutes later I felt something crawling on my leg and sure enough, it was a tick.
Except for the notable tick infestation, the restaurant was great. Our platters were heaped with delicious fried scallops, whole clams, shrimp, a nice hunk of haddock and an oyster or two with fries and onion rings mixed in. Our waitress was the only one working today and there was only one cook. Two people to handle this whole restaurant. No wonder she's thin. The cook came out a couple times to help the waitress and being that it was only coming up on 12:30 p.m., I could not imagine how they were going to handle the afternoon crowd. Plymouth is a college town and this is motorcycle weekend. Holy Toledo! She'll be soaking her feet when she gets home tonight!
We sipped out drinks and I tried to finish my platter, falling short and having to ask for a doggie bag for my remaining whole clams. The waitress was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, trying to get to every table in the place. Louie and I were the only ones there at 11:50 a.m. and when we left, the place was filling up with a total of six parties.
The menu in this restaurant has quite the variety to offer. I saw several types of seafood offered, along with surf & turf. There was a decent section offering Italian varieties and of course, several BBQ dishes. They offer interesting appetizers such as Cajun fries and other delights and a nice sandwich section in the back. The board up front at the counter showed the daily specials of stuffed crab, a two-way selection of seafood and a stuffed shrimp dish. The deserts sounded delectable with such delights as, "Strawberry rhubarb pie alamode" and "Oreo cookie cheesecake." Yummmm.
Louie and I agreed wholeheartedly that this restaurant was better than any we have tried yet....by far. Therefore we both gave it a ***** 1/2 five and a half star rating, the best so far. If this place gets some more help, hires an exterminator and offers a few more specials on their "daily specials" board, they will soar into the six and seven star category on Louie and Jeeem's rating scale for sure.
-Jeeem- (of Louie and Jeeem)
What you all have been anxiously waiting for.....
Without further ado....
the infamous....
the ever popular....
Well, it's been a while since I've eaten at this place and it sure has changed. A few years back the place was barn red and looked like it had been plucked off the docks at Gloucester, replete with lobster traps, faded and moldy nets and colorful buoys. Now the outside is sided a light beige and they still have an outside order window and picnic tables to set at. They also have added a deck with tables and umbrellas. The decor inside is new to the point you can still smell the pine. It's fixed up in a nice family atmosphere and very pleasant if you ask me. A local man's paintings hang on the wall and the walls are stenciled in milk paint above the wainscoting.
Louie was a bear today because the waitress took a few minutes to seat us. Once seated, she handed us our menu's and handled Louie like an old pro, sticking right with him blow for blow and smiling to beat the band. She was a real cutie.....all, .....what? Ninety two pounds of her? Green eyes again! I'm a sucker for green eyes but this gal coulda been my daughter.
Oh, sorry....back to the review. Louie and I both ordered the Fisherman's platter. Louie got the rice, coleslaw and the salad with Italian dressing (naturally) and I took the Cajun fries, coleslaw and bluecheese dressing. The salads came out quickly, were plentiful and came with a nice big basket of soft french bread with real butter packets. Louie and I were wolfing down our salads when he noticed something crawling on his leg. Looking down he picked off a tick. About two minutes later I felt something crawling on my leg and sure enough, it was a tick.
Except for the notable tick infestation, the restaurant was great. Our platters were heaped with delicious fried scallops, whole clams, shrimp, a nice hunk of haddock and an oyster or two with fries and onion rings mixed in. Our waitress was the only one working today and there was only one cook. Two people to handle this whole restaurant. No wonder she's thin. The cook came out a couple times to help the waitress and being that it was only coming up on 12:30 p.m., I could not imagine how they were going to handle the afternoon crowd. Plymouth is a college town and this is motorcycle weekend. Holy Toledo! She'll be soaking her feet when she gets home tonight!
We sipped out drinks and I tried to finish my platter, falling short and having to ask for a doggie bag for my remaining whole clams. The waitress was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, trying to get to every table in the place. Louie and I were the only ones there at 11:50 a.m. and when we left, the place was filling up with a total of six parties.
The menu in this restaurant has quite the variety to offer. I saw several types of seafood offered, along with surf & turf. There was a decent section offering Italian varieties and of course, several BBQ dishes. They offer interesting appetizers such as Cajun fries and other delights and a nice sandwich section in the back. The board up front at the counter showed the daily specials of stuffed crab, a two-way selection of seafood and a stuffed shrimp dish. The deserts sounded delectable with such delights as, "Strawberry rhubarb pie alamode" and "Oreo cookie cheesecake." Yummmm.
Louie and I agreed wholeheartedly that this restaurant was better than any we have tried yet....by far. Therefore we both gave it a ***** 1/2 five and a half star rating, the best so far. If this place gets some more help, hires an exterminator and offers a few more specials on their "daily specials" board, they will soar into the six and seven star category on Louie and Jeeem's rating scale for sure.
-Jeeem- (of Louie and Jeeem)
It's two p.m.....time to take my pill.
Peter says my dreams are coming from the pills. How the hell do they get those dreams in there?
Gotta get to the town dump before it closes.............not much happening at the dump today and nothing much in the "good stuff" pile. I don't think I could ever live in a big city anymore, I'd miss the little perks of living out in the country. You know you're a resident when the dump guy knows your name and lets you in whether you've got a sticker or not.
The thunderstorms are on their way. The clouds are dark to the northwest and you can see the underside of the leaves. I love thunderstorms.
I finally changed the catbox. Funny thing about that little devise....if you leave it alone long enough without emptying it, the stench will eventually remind you that it's time to dump it out and put clean litter in there. Funny how such a small damn cat can generate such a terrible stink. She'll be right in there the minute I put fresh litter in the thing, whether she's gotta go or not, it seems to be a rite of passage or something for her....gotta initiate the damn thing or some such deal.
Fireflies. Leave it to Shirl to always end up coming up with a subject that gets my though processes going. ...
When I was growing up in El Paso, Texas I don't remember fireflies. My mom used to say the lit-up bugs in the way of the beam of light from the projector at the drive-in theatre was fireflies but I eventually found out they were just moths. The first firefly I saw was in Glencliff, New Hampshire.
My wife and I were staying at her father's cabin in Glencliff. I was outside, probably trying to avoid her father who after a few beers would always get like my old man used to.....mean as hell. I saw a firefly and there was no mistaking it. I ran inside and grabbed a mason jar and ran back outside to trap it. Once I had it, I began to look around for more of them and low and behold, when I looked up, I saw literally hundreds of them.
My father-in-law the jerk ended up poking fun at me but I didn't care. I just told him to shove it up his butt where no fireflies could be seen and continued on to enjoy the light show. Pity that some people never learn to appreciate the simpler things in life. He was such a miserable man. I guess I was all of about twenty-nine or thirty years old then.
I watched those fireflies that night until I was one big mosquito bite. Blinking on and off, on and off, on and off, well into the night. Some of them landed on me and I could see them up close, their luminescence bright enough to see the material of my pants. Like little live lanterns. They never fail to amaze me even now when I occasionally see one fly up close to the bedroom screen while I'm lying in bed.
-Jeeem-
Peter says my dreams are coming from the pills. How the hell do they get those dreams in there?
Gotta get to the town dump before it closes.............not much happening at the dump today and nothing much in the "good stuff" pile. I don't think I could ever live in a big city anymore, I'd miss the little perks of living out in the country. You know you're a resident when the dump guy knows your name and lets you in whether you've got a sticker or not.
The thunderstorms are on their way. The clouds are dark to the northwest and you can see the underside of the leaves. I love thunderstorms.
I finally changed the catbox. Funny thing about that little devise....if you leave it alone long enough without emptying it, the stench will eventually remind you that it's time to dump it out and put clean litter in there. Funny how such a small damn cat can generate such a terrible stink. She'll be right in there the minute I put fresh litter in the thing, whether she's gotta go or not, it seems to be a rite of passage or something for her....gotta initiate the damn thing or some such deal.
Fireflies. Leave it to Shirl to always end up coming up with a subject that gets my though processes going. ...
When I was growing up in El Paso, Texas I don't remember fireflies. My mom used to say the lit-up bugs in the way of the beam of light from the projector at the drive-in theatre was fireflies but I eventually found out they were just moths. The first firefly I saw was in Glencliff, New Hampshire.
My wife and I were staying at her father's cabin in Glencliff. I was outside, probably trying to avoid her father who after a few beers would always get like my old man used to.....mean as hell. I saw a firefly and there was no mistaking it. I ran inside and grabbed a mason jar and ran back outside to trap it. Once I had it, I began to look around for more of them and low and behold, when I looked up, I saw literally hundreds of them.
My father-in-law the jerk ended up poking fun at me but I didn't care. I just told him to shove it up his butt where no fireflies could be seen and continued on to enjoy the light show. Pity that some people never learn to appreciate the simpler things in life. He was such a miserable man. I guess I was all of about twenty-nine or thirty years old then.
I watched those fireflies that night until I was one big mosquito bite. Blinking on and off, on and off, on and off, well into the night. Some of them landed on me and I could see them up close, their luminescence bright enough to see the material of my pants. Like little live lanterns. They never fail to amaze me even now when I occasionally see one fly up close to the bedroom screen while I'm lying in bed.
-Jeeem-
Sunday, June 09, 2002
Blogger seems to be down this morning but I can still get to my publishing page.......Yippee!
So, I'm lying in bed having this awful dream. I'm behind a group of burned out cars at a border crossing of what looks like Mexico, a place I am familiar with, and as dreams usually go, I know why I'm there and what I'm doing but nothing makes any sense. The scene is tense and I'm with other caucasians, watching a large group of Asain folk, wearing non's, crossing a bridge and carrying guns.
Smoke is everywhere and I hear a muted rambling of Vietnamese. The people crossing the bridge turn and eye us suspiciously, stopping every few feet to look back at us. Suddenly a shot rings out and all hell breaks loose. I am ducking behind the vehicles, hearing the loud ping of metal on metal and the whizzing of bullets as they zip by my head.
Panic-stricken I run, staying low and come face to face with a chain link fence that I cannot pass. I turn and begin to run in the opposite direction, feeling bullets come within inches of my body, whizzing past me, when I suddenly hear a voice say, "Here! Come with me!" I turn to see an Asian face of a woman I recognize but cannot place. Her face looks so familiar but I can't place her. She is holding a .45 loosely and is running in the direction of the bridge. I hesitate for a second and then grab the gun from her in a panic.
What happens next caused me to jolt awake in a cold sweat.....
I point the gun at her. She cringes as I shoot. The bullet hits her someplace, evident in her violent recoil. I fire again and again, panicked and shaking, trying to kill her and confused because I cannot place this woman's face. My shaking causes the bullets to miss as she stands defiantly in front of me with a look of disgust on her face as if to say, "I try to help you and now you want to kill me." Then I wake up suddenly.
Where the hell did that come from? Not on my list of favorite dreams to wake up to, that is for sure.
-Jeeem-
So, I'm lying in bed having this awful dream. I'm behind a group of burned out cars at a border crossing of what looks like Mexico, a place I am familiar with, and as dreams usually go, I know why I'm there and what I'm doing but nothing makes any sense. The scene is tense and I'm with other caucasians, watching a large group of Asain folk, wearing non's, crossing a bridge and carrying guns.
Smoke is everywhere and I hear a muted rambling of Vietnamese. The people crossing the bridge turn and eye us suspiciously, stopping every few feet to look back at us. Suddenly a shot rings out and all hell breaks loose. I am ducking behind the vehicles, hearing the loud ping of metal on metal and the whizzing of bullets as they zip by my head.
Panic-stricken I run, staying low and come face to face with a chain link fence that I cannot pass. I turn and begin to run in the opposite direction, feeling bullets come within inches of my body, whizzing past me, when I suddenly hear a voice say, "Here! Come with me!" I turn to see an Asian face of a woman I recognize but cannot place. Her face looks so familiar but I can't place her. She is holding a .45 loosely and is running in the direction of the bridge. I hesitate for a second and then grab the gun from her in a panic.
What happens next caused me to jolt awake in a cold sweat.....
I point the gun at her. She cringes as I shoot. The bullet hits her someplace, evident in her violent recoil. I fire again and again, panicked and shaking, trying to kill her and confused because I cannot place this woman's face. My shaking causes the bullets to miss as she stands defiantly in front of me with a look of disgust on her face as if to say, "I try to help you and now you want to kill me." Then I wake up suddenly.
Where the hell did that come from? Not on my list of favorite dreams to wake up to, that is for sure.
-Jeeem-
Speaking of exaggerated size to self-esteem ratios.....
Biker weekend is coming up. Laconia hosts biker week every year and supposedly this is the 79th.....but who the hell is counting. This year 300,000 of these fine, upstanding citizens will flock to Laconia to show their tits and eat hotdogs hanging from a string and other, similarly talented events. The current rage in the biker news is the cancellation of the Hell's Angles concession permit for the event. Local small business owners a quibbling over the decision and it's getting a lot of media attention. Seems the Hell's Angles are taking the decision to Superior Court.
So why is this happening to such a fine motorcycle club? Well, the recent events in Laughlin, Nevada don't speak very well for this supposedly adult motorcycle "gang" of leather babies. Seems when they decide to kill off other rival "gangs" of leather babies, they end up endangering normal law abiding citizens who could probably care less if they all just went out in the desert somewhere and "offed" each other.
Personally, I have never cared for these leather wearing, tough acting, immature felons on wheels. Not to confuse a leather baby biker with a normal motorcycle riding citizen who abides by the laws and enjoys the freedom of riding on two wheels versus four. Nosiree! There is a difference. The leather babies are easy to spot in a crowd. They are usually lewd, crude and rude with a limited mental capacity and a limited vocabulary of "fuck, shit, beer, hog, bitch," likely repeated in any particular order of the same. They buy Easyrider magazine to look at the pictures cause they often can't read.
I was prompted to write this nasty little piece when, upon returning from Rite Aid, I looked down at my shopping bag that had fallen to the floor of my truck and when I looked up I saw a leather baby in my lane, heading directly at me. I swerved to miss him and the tough guy gave me the finger. Sorta made me wish I had hit him. He gave ME the finger when HE was in MY lane and I swerved to miss him! Go figure.
Hummm. Wonder what that would have been like? Ford F150 XLT Four-by-Four half ton truck versus leatherbaby bike. Hey, I'm insured.
-Jeeem-
Biker weekend is coming up. Laconia hosts biker week every year and supposedly this is the 79th.....but who the hell is counting. This year 300,000 of these fine, upstanding citizens will flock to Laconia to show their tits and eat hotdogs hanging from a string and other, similarly talented events. The current rage in the biker news is the cancellation of the Hell's Angles concession permit for the event. Local small business owners a quibbling over the decision and it's getting a lot of media attention. Seems the Hell's Angles are taking the decision to Superior Court.
So why is this happening to such a fine motorcycle club? Well, the recent events in Laughlin, Nevada don't speak very well for this supposedly adult motorcycle "gang" of leather babies. Seems when they decide to kill off other rival "gangs" of leather babies, they end up endangering normal law abiding citizens who could probably care less if they all just went out in the desert somewhere and "offed" each other.
Personally, I have never cared for these leather wearing, tough acting, immature felons on wheels. Not to confuse a leather baby biker with a normal motorcycle riding citizen who abides by the laws and enjoys the freedom of riding on two wheels versus four. Nosiree! There is a difference. The leather babies are easy to spot in a crowd. They are usually lewd, crude and rude with a limited mental capacity and a limited vocabulary of "fuck, shit, beer, hog, bitch," likely repeated in any particular order of the same. They buy Easyrider magazine to look at the pictures cause they often can't read.
I was prompted to write this nasty little piece when, upon returning from Rite Aid, I looked down at my shopping bag that had fallen to the floor of my truck and when I looked up I saw a leather baby in my lane, heading directly at me. I swerved to miss him and the tough guy gave me the finger. Sorta made me wish I had hit him. He gave ME the finger when HE was in MY lane and I swerved to miss him! Go figure.
Hummm. Wonder what that would have been like? Ford F150 XLT Four-by-Four half ton truck versus leatherbaby bike. Hey, I'm insured.
-Jeeem-
So I go to Rite Aid to get some souvenirs and cards for Eve and THIS is what pulls up next to me in the parking lot. Holy Toledo. I drive a four wheel drive truck, but this is ridiculous...ya need a step ladder to get into the thing. Then, as we all know, THIS is what climbs out of the monster vehicle.
A phenomena known as exaggerated size to self-esteem ratio.
-Jeeem-
A phenomena known as exaggerated size to self-esteem ratio.
-Jeeem-
Saturday, June 08, 2002
Quoted passages from the China Daily National English-Language Newspaper, dated Thursday, March 21, 2002:
(Page 3)
American gets warning for insulting woman (by Qin Chuan - China Daily staff)
"US citizen Mark Alan Forshee was given a legal warning by Shenzhen police for insulting a woman, Guo Shaofei, on a bus in Shenzhen on March 9."
"Forshee is a psychologist and is studying in Shenzhen for his thesis and research work."
"Police said on March 9, Forshee, holding a beer can in one hand, pulled Guo's shirt with one of his fingers to look at her breasts while on a bus in Shenzhen."
Insulting? Give me a break. They should have cut his balls off or something. Dumb ass!
All the while I was wondering why some of the Chinese people looked at me with disgust while I was in Beijing? Holy cow. A psychologist. Poor example of one if you ask me. Then, the article goes on to say:
"Afterwards, Forshee made an "apology" rather mockingly to the woman, who felt more indignant."
Well, they say you can't believe everything you read but this I believe. Probably some damn American kid with rich parents who never learned to appreciate the value of decent morals and values. Obviously can't handle his liquor either. God this pissed me off when I read this. I'd been in country for a total of two days when I read this. Hell, I'd have kicked him in the nuts myself. Dumb ass! They should have yanked his professional license....psychologist my ass.
-Jeeem-
Zebulon writes in reference of certain culture types: "long-hairs, skinheads, weirdos, sportswearers, foreigners, button-downs or professional types" Just reading that passage brought back the stanza:
Everyone gather round let me tell you all about it
You see I pulled into a drive-in and I found a place to park
We hopped into the backseat where it`s always nice and dark
We`re just about to move thinkin` "Bret, this is a breeze"
There`s a light in my eye and a guy says "Out of the car, long hair!"
Oowee--you`re coming with me
Said the local police
Your Mama Don`t Dance (excerpt) - Loggins and Messina -
So what's a sportswearer and a button-down Chris?
Your "nutter" pal, -Jeeem-
Everyone gather round let me tell you all about it
You see I pulled into a drive-in and I found a place to park
We hopped into the backseat where it`s always nice and dark
We`re just about to move thinkin` "Bret, this is a breeze"
There`s a light in my eye and a guy says "Out of the car, long hair!"
Oowee--you`re coming with me
Said the local police
Your Mama Don`t Dance (excerpt) - Loggins and Messina -
So what's a sportswearer and a button-down Chris?
Your "nutter" pal, -Jeeem-
Jeeem is Sick!
The Vernors never showed and the Vicks just left me smelling to high heaven. So, I was out from work yesterday and reluctantly made a visit to the "quake" as Eve, my African princess puts it. The "quake," it seems, is the African term for a GP or "General Practitioner." It is pronounced "qwak," which is our tongue-in-cheek term (spelled quack) for a physician who doesn't know his arse from an ant hole. Very interesting.
Anyway, I saw the same nurse practitioner that I saw last time, Carol is her name, and was placed on a fairly new antibiotic that supposedly does the trick in only five doses versus the typical thirty. It is called Zithromax. Sounds impressive anyway. Today, I am still coughing up some nasty stuff and wheezing to beat the band.
Yesterday, while home in the sick house, I contacted my African princess through ICQ and while chatting, I received a message called an "Unsupported Event Notification." This "event" turned out to be a PC to PC call and suddenly, I was listening to Eve's very interesting voice! Cool. I rummaged around for my speaker headphones and although I found them, Eve could not hear me for some reason.
We ended up chatting for quite a long period of time and I sent her an IM message commenting on her sexy, British sounding voice.....Ooooops! Eve's comment was, "LOL ....British....now that takes the bun!" Well, Bloody hell! I'm no pro at accents. It sounded British to me...but then again what do I know? Heck, I don't want to start some international event here.
"Takes the bun....." Interesting.
Eve claims she doesn't have an accent...that I'm probably the one with the accent. Hummm. Well, if we manage to figure out the PC to PC connection, using Net2phone then she will no doubt agree I have an accent. Perhaps Eve feels Afrikaans is the more pure form of language? I will admit that her pronunciation of words were a bit more clear than some of the American slang. Some of her terms baffled me though and when she was talking about putting rose petals in the champagne, it sounded like she was saying "Pickles," or "Pittles."
"We put the rose pittles in the champagne" .....now who the bloody hell has the accent? Come on Eve!
We chatted for better than an hour and it was such a delight to hear her voice. It was early afternoon here in the U.S. and well after midnight in Durban, South Africa. Eve told me some of her champagne stories and we laughed until I started up a coughing fit. She spoke of yeba mate, which is some form of tea I think, but so many of her terms are foreign to me.
Seems Johannesburg lacks a Hard Rock Cafe. Eve had never heard of the popular spot and I don't think she understood my obsession with collecting the tee-shirts from over the globe. It seems the only two HRC's in the continent of Africa are in Egypt, located in Cairo and Sharm el Sheikh. A far piece from the badlands of Durban. Oh well, Eve says she will show me the ropes in Johannesburg and I'll surely come home with some interesting souvenirs of my South African trip.
Thanks to my good friend Shirl in Michigan (land of the dreaded California Raisin lawn ornaments) for my nifty little tricks with HTML.....I am finding this a very fun venture to learn the coding but MAN does it get frustrating if you leave one little quotation out!
Well, enough rambling on here. I need to get moving and do the laundry ritual. I don't much feel like doing anything more than vegetating today as the green funk is in control of me body. Ah well, it could be worse. I could be drinking champagne in a relapse and choking on the rose pickles.
Cheers!
-Jeeem-
The Vernors never showed and the Vicks just left me smelling to high heaven. So, I was out from work yesterday and reluctantly made a visit to the "quake" as Eve, my African princess puts it. The "quake," it seems, is the African term for a GP or "General Practitioner." It is pronounced "qwak," which is our tongue-in-cheek term (spelled quack) for a physician who doesn't know his arse from an ant hole. Very interesting.
Anyway, I saw the same nurse practitioner that I saw last time, Carol is her name, and was placed on a fairly new antibiotic that supposedly does the trick in only five doses versus the typical thirty. It is called Zithromax. Sounds impressive anyway. Today, I am still coughing up some nasty stuff and wheezing to beat the band.
Yesterday, while home in the sick house, I contacted my African princess through ICQ and while chatting, I received a message called an "Unsupported Event Notification." This "event" turned out to be a PC to PC call and suddenly, I was listening to Eve's very interesting voice! Cool. I rummaged around for my speaker headphones and although I found them, Eve could not hear me for some reason.
We ended up chatting for quite a long period of time and I sent her an IM message commenting on her sexy, British sounding voice.....Ooooops! Eve's comment was, "LOL ....British....now that takes the bun!" Well, Bloody hell! I'm no pro at accents. It sounded British to me...but then again what do I know? Heck, I don't want to start some international event here.
"Takes the bun....." Interesting.
Eve claims she doesn't have an accent...that I'm probably the one with the accent. Hummm. Well, if we manage to figure out the PC to PC connection, using Net2phone then she will no doubt agree I have an accent. Perhaps Eve feels Afrikaans is the more pure form of language? I will admit that her pronunciation of words were a bit more clear than some of the American slang. Some of her terms baffled me though and when she was talking about putting rose petals in the champagne, it sounded like she was saying "Pickles," or "Pittles."
"We put the rose pittles in the champagne" .....now who the bloody hell has the accent? Come on Eve!
We chatted for better than an hour and it was such a delight to hear her voice. It was early afternoon here in the U.S. and well after midnight in Durban, South Africa. Eve told me some of her champagne stories and we laughed until I started up a coughing fit. She spoke of yeba mate, which is some form of tea I think, but so many of her terms are foreign to me.
Seems Johannesburg lacks a Hard Rock Cafe. Eve had never heard of the popular spot and I don't think she understood my obsession with collecting the tee-shirts from over the globe. It seems the only two HRC's in the continent of Africa are in Egypt, located in Cairo and Sharm el Sheikh. A far piece from the badlands of Durban. Oh well, Eve says she will show me the ropes in Johannesburg and I'll surely come home with some interesting souvenirs of my South African trip.
Thanks to my good friend Shirl in Michigan (land of the dreaded California Raisin lawn ornaments) for my nifty little tricks with HTML.....I am finding this a very fun venture to learn the coding but MAN does it get frustrating if you leave one little quotation out!
Well, enough rambling on here. I need to get moving and do the laundry ritual. I don't much feel like doing anything more than vegetating today as the green funk is in control of me body. Ah well, it could be worse. I could be drinking champagne in a relapse and choking on the rose pickles.
Cheers!
-Jeeem-
Tuesday, June 04, 2002
I am the proud recipient of an African princess! Whoa! Coooool.
Newest news on the rural front is my research project is almost complete and is currently being yanked out of the procrastination phase and into the, "YOU-BETTER-GET-THIS-DONE-QUICK-BECAUSE-IT-IS-DUE-SOON" phase.
My partner in crime who lives in Michigan has admitted to girlscout carnage.
I am still sick with remnants of sputum-turned-green phlegm bits and labored breathing (have another cigarette Jeeem).
It is official.....I killed another lawnmower.
Life is good.
-Jeeem-
Newest news on the rural front is my research project is almost complete and is currently being yanked out of the procrastination phase and into the, "YOU-BETTER-GET-THIS-DONE-QUICK-BECAUSE-IT-IS-DUE-SOON" phase.
My partner in crime who lives in Michigan has admitted to girlscout carnage.
I am still sick with remnants of sputum-turned-green phlegm bits and labored breathing (have another cigarette Jeeem).
It is official.....I killed another lawnmower.
Life is good.
-Jeeem-
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