Sunday, April 16, 2006
Whataway to break a fast!
There she is. Long time no see, ol' gal. Long time no see.
Drive by here at least once a day. But lately, I've been givin' you the cold shoulder ... It wasn't you, darlin' -- it was me. I had to sort some things out. Lookin' good, you.
Do what? Will I come in? Sure, if you'll have me back ... What? No need to explain? You're too sweet. But it *was* between me and the Lord. ...
It was a glorious Easter Sunday reunion!
After church, I came home and got Dr. ER, who planned to go with me but was not up to snuff early, and we made a beeline to the friendly neighborhood burger joint: Whataburger. Great burger place. Texas-based. You can't get 'em everywhere. Just in the South, and not everywhere here. Most excellent place to break 40 days and 40 nights without beef or pork.
We order -- double burger with cheese and bacon, please -- and wait. You have to wait at Whataburger. They only start cookin' after you order. This is a burger joint. But it's not fast food. Antici-pa-a-shun ...
I do what I can to prepare.
GLORY! Glory breaks open on a 5-inch bun!
This is *almost* burger porn!
Until all that remains is this lone survivor, a ketchup "tub" that got lost in the carnage!
Dr. ER is She Who Is My Wife. Whataburger was my helpmeat today (groan!) :-)
Until next time .... Hey, Dr. ER! Whaddaya wanna do for supper?!?
I've turned down no less than four dinner invitations (and if you know how Methodists cook, you know what a sacrifice THAT was!). Instead, all I wanted today was my long-awaited post-Easter service nap. Ahhhh yes, the temptation of cool sheets teamed with the desire to go horizontal, coupled with the lack of any interference. Heaven. On. A. Pillow!
Now that I've seen YOUR Whataburger, I may have to take a Sunday drive over to the one closest to me, less than a mile away.
It seems a little strange that there is no food in my own kitchen at the moment, but there was this missing four hours, you see...
I gave up smoking, but I'm not going back.
I still smoke stogies a couple of times a week, and I can't go a day without at least one nicotine gum -- but come July 6, I'll be three years without a dip of Copenhagen, after spittin' the stuff for 28 years.
I knew I'd "crossed over" about a year ago when I realized that what I wanted -- and I do still want it, daily -- was *not* my next dip, but my last one.
The last dip I had lives in my memory as something truly wondrous. The next one would blow the top of my head off -- make me nauseous, burn my mouth like battery acid and make my teeth hurt.
Not having had a spit cup "incident" in the house for so long is just a bonus.
Along with my usual job buildin' sets for the pretty dancers to dance on, I also have been servin' breakfast at a local restaurant for the last several years. Today was nuts, to put it lightly.
We all kept on callin' it 'zombie day', as is our wont as secular humanist smartasses, but nonetheless there was that great feeling of community; everyone coming together to, if nothing else, celebrate the fact that we have each other. It's a good day, this thing.
The end of Passover, for my Jewish Redneck relatives, coincides with my stepfather's father's eightieth birthday. In his best Central Oregon humility, he 'didn't want any big deal' to be made.
Me? I ate a burger with bacon and smoked mozzarella at the end of my shift. Deeelish.
There's a reason we Christian humanist smartasses seem to get along with y'all secular human smartasses:
We both emphasize the humanity -- oh! the humanity! -- of it all. And the smartass part.
Peas, dude. :-)
Whataburger was one of the places in Texas we learned to love instantly.
I wanted to go there when I saw the sign. It looked like the Wichita Wings (professional indoor soccer team) logo.
Our older son, who was 4, brought his Whataburger onto the beach with him. That was a mistake. Well, a mistake if you don't want to be attacked by a flock of seagulls, and I'm not talking about the band.
Why do they call something that takes so long and seems so slow a "fast"?
I know why they call the first meal of the day a break-fast, but why don't we have an begin-fast meal.
Apparently the Purcell guy did plan to consume Jamie Rose Bolin. A magnitude of sick which is difficult to imagine.