All you Gentle Readers no doubt have heard of 100-year floods, "hurricanes of the century," and other such "Perfect Storms." Well, the same sorta thing happened within the small space that is the likker locker here at El Casa Móvil De Pennington. We poured the very last of the gin into a G&T last evening and decided it would be best if we took stock of our remaining supply. And we were horrified to find we were at or below the "restock" level on nearly all counts... a perfect storm of want, as it were. So it was off to the Class VI store this morning. And this is what we brought home:
I had to make two stops, one at the Class VI and the other at our local Liquor Emporium, given the Class VI was out o' Drambuie. That breaks my hard and flinty ol' heart coz likker is about 20% cheaper at the base and there's none of that noxious sales tax to be paid to an oppressive gub'mint. And we also had to add beer to the mix as DIL Erma and I made a hard run at the beer supply night before last.
Being the drinkin' sort is gettin' expensive these days; what you see above is well in excess of 100 Yankee Dollars. Still and even: we do what we must. And we MUST keep the likker-locker stocked.
This falls in the "too good not to steal" category:
I ripped that off from Capt. Lex. I know that most of you Gentle Readers frequent the former Naval aviator's place o' bid'niz and now's as good a time as any to encourage those of you who don't hang out with the fighter pilots, ground pounders, Jarheads, and the odd Zoomie or three, to make him a daily read. The man is about as prolific and perceptive a blogger as exists anywhere on these inner-nets and his commentariat is the BEST, period. The discussions at the Aviators' Lounge are always erudite and it's a rare person who won't learn something by dropping in there on a daily basis. Speaking of the comments yet again... the environment is polite and civil, above all else. That's a rarity of the highest order. So ends today's unpaid promotion.I recently picked a new primary care doctor. After two visits and exhaustive Lab tests, he said I was doing ‘fairly well’ for my age. (I just turned sixty-something.) A little concerned about that comment, I couldn’t resist asking him, ‘Do you think I’ll live to be 80?’
He asked, ‘Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or hard liquor?’ ‘Oh no,’ I replied. ‘I’m not doing drugs, either!’
Then he asked, ‘Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued Ribs?’ I said, ‘Not much…my former doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!’
‘Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, boating, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?’ ‘No, I don’t,’ I said.
He asked, ‘Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?’ ‘No,’ I said…He looked at me and said.’Then, why do you even give a sh!t?
But about that joke. Good advice, on the whole, if'n ya add in "ride fast mo'sickles" to the mix. There are a few things the Good Doctor included on his list that I don't do... like whack a lil white ball around a park (my life is largely frustration-free and I wanna keep it that way), boat or sail (El Casa Móvil De Pennington in her advanced age is a money pit of more than sufficient depth, thankyouverymuch), and I don't hike or bicycle due to physical limitations. And then there's the sex thing. We're living a life of self-imposed celibacy which has no inherent virtue, contrary to what monks or priests might tell you, and absolutely NO reward as far as I can tell. Well, check that. I said I live a life that's largely frustration-free, and that would include Honey-Do lists, command performances with people I don't care for but she does, and miscellaneous nagging. I consider that an acceptable trade-off. YMMV, of course.
Added, 1530 hrs: Restocked, Part II. I'm just back from a trip up to the mail kiosk where I found these beauties... a box of Acid Nastys... the perfect little cigar for those times when ya don't wanna go whole hog. And just in time for Happy Hour, too. Dang. Sometimes life is just so good I can't stand it. But we shall muddle through. Somehow.