Friday, December 30, 2011


I threw out the remains of Christmas dinner today (see: left), which was about half of a three and a half pound brisket.  There wouldn't have been NEAR that much left under normal circumstances but I overcooked the damned thang to the point where it was tougher than a dog's chew toy.  My dinner guest, to her everlasting credit, said "it's fine" when I complained/apologized for the quality of the meat and she even went back for seconds.  The cook really appreciates that sorta thang, yanno?  Even if we know in our heart o' hearts the girl was stretching the truth a wee bit.

So... the brisket went, after one episode of reheated leftovers and one episode of homemade Reuben sammiches, the latter which weren't TOO bad, given I shredded the slices of brisket to near baby food consistency.  The veggie remnants (the best part o' that meal) were consumed in their entirety on Boxing Day.  With great relish.


I've noticed there are at least two ads currently running on the Fox News Channel for devices that prevent snoring.  What I want to know is why ALL the testimonials come from MEN.  Seriously... BOTH ads feature perky women complaining about their husbands keeping them up at night until such time as they purchased the product bein' flogged, with one particularly egregious example showing the Snoring Husband bein' banished to the couch.  I suppose wimmen don't snore in teevee land, but I'm here to tell ya that ain't true in the Real World.  I've shared a bed with a couple o' wimmen in the past that would give a Weyerhaeuser mill serious competition in the noise department... so much so that I went and slept on their couch.  Willingly.  Out o' necessity.


And then there's this in the "Not Your Father's Air Force" department:
Bod Pod Battle: The 50th Space Wing at Schriever AFB, Colo., has introduced a new twist to the age-old New Year's resolution of losing weight and getting in better shape. The wing's "Bod Pod" competition will pit squadrons against each other in a battle to cut body fat. Beginning on Jan. 1, participants will have two weeks to step into the Bod Pod at the base's health and wellness center to get their body fat measured. The machine, which resembles a giant egg from the outside, uses air displacement to calculate body density and body fat. Once measured, airmen will have until late March to tone up before entering the Bod Pod once again for final measurements to determine the winners. "We really want to encourage airmen to start the New Year on the right foot by learning exactly where their body fat numbers are," said Christopher Woodruff, Schriever's HAWC health promotions educator. He added, "Body fat, when in reference to health, plays a big roll." (Schriever report by SSgt. Patrice Clarke)
Two thangs:  First and foremost, you don't need a freakin' Bod Pod (I love THAT term) to know if you're fat or if you need to get in shape; what a tremendous waste o' money that is.  Second, it's ROLE, dammit.  Don't make me come down there...


  1. I personally have no problem with dried out meats, generally speaking.

    I've complained before about that sorta thing, and how in all commercials, it's always the man being dumb, or brow beaten by the women. Sleeping on the couch... I shall never be banished from the bed. Until my wife can carry me off of it physically, I shall only sleep on a couch of my own accord.

    I'm glad my job does not require me to be in shape. Then again, maybe if it did, I would be...

  2. I got your pods, hangin!30 December, 2011 19:03

    That thing looks Gay! Wait a minute, duh, I get it.

  3. A Christmas dinner guest? Nice. Except for the brisket being overcooked...I hate when that happens...I overcooked a Christmas roast once myself. What's worse -- being embarrassed about the dinner, or wasting all that food?

    Your last paragraph -- I so agree with every point.

  4. Buck, make your next kitchen investment a decent meat thermometer. An electronic one (with alarm) that mounts outside the oven is best. You will never create shoe leather again - but at least you didn't destroy a genuine prime grade rib roast!

    Whatever ever happened to the AF's old 'Fat Boy' program? Too non-PC? Does this new contest mean that everyone is a winner and all will get a nice Chinese-made black beret just for breathing air?

  5. I can give a testimony on the snoring thing...I have a Sister that sounds like she's not sawing logs but the whole damn tree.

  6. Could they, perchance, have been writing about a roll of fat?

  7. Matt: I can handle dry, it's tough when it should be tender (and always was, until Sunday) that I have a problem with. As for the doofus man in teevee ads... yeah, that's always the case, innit?

    your pods: Heh.

    What's worse -- being embarrassed about the dinner, or wasting all that food?

    I vote for embarrassment, Red... especially when the objective is/was to impress. ;-)

    Lin: I have a meat thermometer but it ain't much good for boiling a brisket. As for the Fat Boy program, rumor has it it still exists, albeit in a much more PC form.

    ss: My great-grandmother would literally wake the whole household with her snoring, bless her heart.

    Ivan: Mebbe. But I think not. ;-)

  8. Buck, your brisket seems to be of a slightly different makeup than the one I prepared. Mine almost demanded overcooking, albeit at a low temperature.

  9. Not only a dinner guest, but a thoughtful dinner guest! WTG, Buck!

    Pepper has mentioned from time to time that I can rattle the rafters with the best of them, but that doesn't sound very ladylike, so I remain in denial.

    If they'd lay off the rolls, maybe they wouldn't be as fat.

  10. I loathe the commercials that make women sound like shrill harpies. Every time I see one, regardless of the subject, I feel like the progress women have made in the past 40 years goes backwards.

  11. Les bombes américaines01 January, 2012 14:21

    No snoring, but my mother used to have nightmares of the Americans bombing her town in WW2 (Metz).

    Then one time her sister came to America to visit. Christ! We had two screamers.

    She did pretty good with blood and gore, but her nightmares were about the bomb shelter collapsing, as it was dark and all the bombs felt like an earthquake, and kept getting closer and closer.

    Finally one day she and my grandfather couldn't take it anymore, so they ran to the forest.

    Wouldn't you know it, a bomb fell not far from grandpa, and buried him in the dirt. When they uncovered him he was white as bleach, and my mother fainted.

    Turned out he was OK, but my mother hit her head on a rock and was out cold for the rest of the day.

    No grudge I guess, as he let an American marry his daughter :-)

  12. If the bod pod could only melt the fat...

    Snoring? Not me.

  13. Skip: Now that I think about it, it MIGHT have been the brisket itself. I bought some off-brand of meat at Wally-World and I SHOULD have gone elsewhere.

    Moogie: Bein' lady-like always takes precedence. And I'm pretty sure roll consumption wasn't our reporter's problem.

    Kris: Your feelings are NOT misplaced concerning the depiction of male-female roles on teevee.

    Les bombes: Your Mom sure had an interesting life. It's a good thang your grandfather didn't hold grudges.

    Lou: Good on ya.

  14. I just had to weigh in (pun intended) on the bod pod. Perhaps my biggest gripe of my AF career was the idiotic fitness crap they came up with every few years.

    Whats wrong with good old fashioned PT? The AF must have a unit somewhere whose only job is to search the world over for the latest fitness snake oil.

    Man am I glad I'm retired.

  15. Before you told us it was a brisket, I thought it was a grand New England Boiled Dinner (corned beef or smoked shoulder, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, all cooked in the same pot until everything has a bit of every other taste - Heaven!), but I suppose the difference isn't far off, from the looks of it. Man, you've got my stomach growling now. And every bit of such a dinner becomes better with a day or two of left-over-ness. Yum!

  16. Whats wrong with good old fashioned PT?

    You nailed THAT one, Rude.

    Jim: It WAS a New England Boiled Dinner.


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