Good morning folks!
Find yer selves a seat now right quick if ya would. ‘Tis a fairly full issue we have today and I’ve a lot of other work that needs me attention.
<Lethal pauses a moment for things to settle>
There ‘tis much better now, I thank ye kindly.
So Impish, I suppose understandably, failed to make observance of last Friday being The Spring Equinox or for those of us given to observing the ‘uld ways’ Ostara. This year it was made especially remarkable by a lunar eclipse.
Ginny and those of you in New England certainly came up with an interesting way of celebrating the First Day of Spring. Nothing quite says ‘SPRING!’ like 5 inches of flurries!
Anyway, as I was saying, I like to get a photograph or 2 of eclipses when I can as they are rare and always make for dramatic photos. Here is one I took a couple years ago with Impish in it before he developed that damned “bakery on his back” addiction:
So I thought to get away and grab a quick snap or two of this one since its wasn’t that much of a jump from
incarcerating ah umm… committing Impish to the Rehab/Deprograming facility. I was particularly excited because I had recently gotten a camera attachment for my telescope as a gift from Impish. Turns out his intention was to borrow the entire set up to go play Peeping Shutterbug Tom with during Spring Break (thanks for the idea pal it really works out quite well!). To say I was shocked when I got the picture is a bit of an understatement. See what I mean?
Anyways lets light the fuse on this puppy shall we? More about Impish and his situation as well as Molly and her condition can be found in the issue. If you’ve not read the comments section of his Saturday Issue I recommend doing so as it might help to make some of the comments later in the issue a bit more clear (and funny)
A woman comes home and tells her husband, “Remember those headaches I’ve been having all these years? Well, they’re gone.”
“No more headaches? How?”
His wife replies, “Margie referred me to a hypnotist. He told me to stand in front of a mirror, stare at myself and repeat, ‘I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache.’ It worked! The headaches are all gone.”
The husband replies, “Well, that’s wonderful.”
His wife then says, “You know, you haven’t exactly been a ball of fire in the bedroom these last few years. Why don’t you go see the hypnotist and see if he can do anything for that?”
The husband agrees to try it. Following his appointment, the husband comes home, rips off his clothes, picks up his wife, and carries her into the bedroom. He puts her on the bed and says, “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”
He goes into the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later, jumps into bed, and makes passionate love to his wife like never before.
His wife says, “Wow! That was wonderful!”
The husband says, “Don’t move! I’ll be right back.” He returns to the bathroom and then goes back to the bedroom, and round two is even better than the first time. The wife sits up and her head is spinning.
Her husband again says, “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” With that, he goes back into the bathroom.
This time, his wife quietly follows him and there, in the bathroom, she sees him standing in front of the mirror, saying, “She’s not my wife. She’s not my wife. She’s not my wife.”
Stephen Stills – Love The One You’re With
Pleading Your Case to St. Peter
A man arrives in Heaven and appears before St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.
St. Peter looks over his paperwork. The guy looks OK, but he wants to be sure. “Have you ever done anything of particular merit?” St. Peter asks.
“Well, I can think of one thing,” the man replies. “On a trip to the Black Hills out in South Dakota, I came upon a gang of high-testosterone bikers threatening a young woman. I warned them to leave her alone.”
“That’s impressive,” the gatekeeper says. “Then what happened?”
“Well, they wouldn’t back off, so I approached the largest and most heavily tattooed biker and smacked him on the head, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring and threw it on the ground. I yelled, ‘Now back off, biker boy, or you’ll answer to me!‘”
“That’s really brave,” St. Peter said, clearly impressed. “But I don’t have it in your paperwork. When did this happen?”
“Let’s see,” the man says, looking at his watch. “About a minute and a half ago.”
Geeze! Another “Dedicated to Something or Other” Day! At least this one sort of makes sense! Anyway in honor of the rather recently dedicated day devoted to celebration and enjoyment of J. R. R. Tolken’s works I have Purloined and Perverted a wee bit o’ Tolken’s arguably most famous prose thusly:
One Leprechaun to run it all, One Dragon who finds them,
One Blog to join them all and in Concentrism bind them
In the WordPress where DragonLaffs hosts.
Tolkien Reading Day is held on the 25th of March each year.
It has been organized by the Tolkien Society since 2003 to encourage fans to celebrate and promote the life and works of J.R.R. Tolkien by reading favorite passages. We particularly encourage schools, museums and libraries to host their own Tolkien Reading Day events.
Each year we also announce a Tolkien Reading Day theme. Keep an eye on our website for details.
Why 25 March?
The 25th of March is the date of the the downfall of the Lord of the Rings (Sauron) and the fall of Barad-dûr. It’s as simple as that!
As the 25th is obviously a fixed date, we suggest that local events could be held on the weekend prior to then if that’s more convenient.
Tolkien Reading Day began following an enquiry from Sean Kirst, a columnist of the The Post-Standard (a paper local to Syracuse, New York), in January 2002:
My grandparents were fishing folk from Buckie in the north of Scotland, carriers of the old stories and legends, and the trilogy has filled a certain hole in my life. I have many friends here in New York who were equally moved by the book, reignited by the film, and we all wondered: is there any day devoted informally to readings from the trilogy, in the way that “Bloomsday” is devoted to Joyce?
The committee liked the idea so much that they choose 25 March 2003 to be the first “Tolkien Reading Day”, and the rest, as they say, is history!
Now if you’ll excuse me I have some old and dear friends to reacquaint myself with. Meet me at the Prancing Pony and I’ll buy you all a round!
A group of women were at a seminar on how to live in a loving relationship with their husband. The women were asked, “How many of you love your husband?” All the women raised their hands. Then they were asked, “When was the last time you told your husband you loved him?” Some women answered today, a few yesterday, and some couldn’t
remember. The women then were told to take out their cell phones and
text to their husband: “I love you, sweetheart.” The women then
were instructed to exchange phones with another person, and to read
aloud the text message they received, in response to their message.
Below are 12 replies; some are hilarious. If you have been married for
quite a while, you understand that these replies are a sign of true
love….who else would reply in such a succinct and honest way?
1. Who the hell is this?
2. Eh, mother of my children, are you sick or what?
3. Yeah, and I love you too. What’s wrong?
4. What now? Did you crash the car again?
5. I don’t understand what you mean?
6. What the hell did you do now?
8. Don’t beat about the bush, just tell me how much you need?
9. Am I dreaming?
10. If you don’t tell me who this message is actually for, someone will die.
11. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t drink during the day.
12. Your mother is coming to stay with us, isn’t she?
Brings a real tug at the ol’ heart, doesn’t it?!
The Late Shift
A police officer, though scheduled for all night duty at the station, was relieved of duty early and arrived home four hours ahead of schedule, at 2:00 in the morning.
Not wanting to wake his wife, he undressed in the dark, crept into the bedroom and started to climb into bed.
Just then, his wife sleepily sat up and said, “Sweetie, would you go down to the all night drug store on the next block and get me some aspirin? I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“Certainly, honey,” he said, and feeling his way across the dark room, he got dressed and walked over to the drug store.
As he arrived, the pharmacist looked up in surprise, “Say,” said the druggist, “I know you — aren’t you a policeman? Officer Fenwick, right?”
“Yeah, so?” said the officer.
“Well, what the heck are you doing all dressed up like the Fire Chief?”
HOUSTON – The great toilet paper debate is finally wrapping up thanks to a newly discovered patent.
The original patent for toilet paper from 1891 resurfaced on the website Consumerist and solves the debate of whether the paper goes over the roll or under. Renderings show the paper in the “over” position, indicating the way the inventor intended for it to be used.
Beef and Cheddar Casserole
Total Time: 55 min
Inactive: 10 min
Cook: 40 min
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the baking dish
3 cups wide egg noodles (about 5 ounces)
1 1/2 cups sour cream
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
12 ounces ground beef
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 bunch scallions (white and green parts), finely chopped
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
One 14 1/2-ounce can petite diced tomatoes
2 cups grated Cheddar
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Oil a 2-quart baking dish.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the noodles and cook to al dente according to the package directions. Drain and put in the prepared baking dish. Toss with the sour cream, Parmesan and 1/4 teaspoon salt.
Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, stirring, until no longer pink, about 4 minutes. Add the bell peppers and scallions and cook until crisp-tender, about 3 minutes. Make a space in the pan, add the tomato paste and toast for a minute. Sprinkle with the Italian seasoning and 1/4 teaspoon salt.
Add the diced tomatoes, stir and bring to a simmer. Cook until slightly thickened, about 2 minutes.
Pour the beef mixture over the noodles and sprinkle with the grated Cheddar. Bake on the middle rack until the cheese is melted and the edges are bubbling, 15 to 20 minutes. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.
Cheesy Picante Mac & Beef
This one-pot supper sports big flavors. Sautéed ground beef is stirred into shell pasta with a cheesy picante sauce to make a robust family dinner.
Prep 5 min.
Total 30 min.
What You’ll Need
1 pound ground beef
3 1/2 cups Beef Broth or Beef Stock (low sodium if possible)
3 cups uncooked shell shaped pasta or 2 cups uncooked twist macaroni
1 can (10 3/4 ounces) Campbell’s® Condensed Cheddar Cheese Soup
1/2 cup Salsa or Picante Sauce (heat level of your preference)
How to Make It
- 1 Cook the beef in a 10-inch skillet over medium-high heat until it’s well browned, stirring often to separate meat. Pour off any fat.
- 2 Stir the broth in the skillet and heat to a boil. Stir in the pasta. Reduce the heat to medium and cook for 10 minutes or until the pasta is tender, stirring often.
- 3 Stir the soup and picante sauce in the skillet and cook until the mixture is hot and bubbling, stirring often.
I find the unseasoned meat slightly bland for this dish so I season it with chili seasoning, taco seasoning or straight chili powder and a little cayenne. I also add green onions to the meat while its cooking and some fresh chopped cilantro at the end (leave on top as garnish or mix in for the color). If you need to stretch the dish so it serves 6 add a can of chili beans partially drained of sauce with the soup & picante.
Finally this is a good dish for sliding cheaper than ground beef ground turkey past your family. Use the 85% lean dark meat add about 2 Tbls water to the pan while it cooks to keep it from drying out. Between the chili/taco seasoning and the beef broth they’ll never know it was healthier or cheaper just that it tastes good.
Double Strawberry Muffins
- Cooking Spray
- 1 1/2 cups All Purpose Flour
- 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1 large egg
- 1/2 cup buttermilk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon peel (optional)
- 1/3 cup Canola Oil or Vegetable Oil
- 1/4 cup Seedless Strawberry Jam
- 3/4 cup fresh strawberries, diced
HEAT oven to 375°F. Coat 12 muffin cups lightly with no-stick cooking spray. Or use paper or foil cupcake liners.
COMBINE flour, baking powder, salt and sugar in medium bowl. Beat egg with buttermilk in small bowl. Stir in vanilla, lemon peel, oil and jam. Stir buttermilk mixture and diced strawberries into flour mixture just until blended. Divide mixture between prepared muffin cups.
BAKE 15 to 18 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan 5 minutes. Serve warm.
TIP: These muffins are best if baked just before serving. If made in advance, wrap in foil; heat 10 minutes at 300°F.
The room was full of pregnant women with their partners. The Lamaze class was in full swing. The instructor was teaching the women how to breathe properly, and was telling the men how to give the necessary assurances to their partners at this stage of the pregnancy.
She said, “Ladies, remember that exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. It strengthens the pelvic muscles and will make delivery that much easier!”
She looked at the men in the room. “And gentlemen, remember. You’re in this together. It wouldn’t hurt you to go walking with your partner.”
The room suddenly got very quiet as the men absorbed this information. Then a man at the back of the room slowly raised his hand.
“Yes?” answered the teacher.
“I was just wondering,” the man said. “Is it all right if she carries a golf bag while we walk?”
Out on the golf course with his wife, the husband says, “Twenty years ago I had a brief affair. It meant nothing. I hope you can forgive me.”
His wife was hurt but said, “Dearest, those days are long gone. What we have now is far more valuable. I forgive you.”
They embraced and kissed, and everything was fine until they got to the seventeenth tee.
As the husband was starting his back swing his wife blurted out, “I’m sorry darling, I’ve been so conscience-stricken since you told me your news. Since we’re being honest with each other, I have something to tell you also: 32 years ago I had a sex change operation. I was a man before I met you. I hope you can forgive me.”
The husband froze at the top of his back swing, then threw a fit! He slammed the driver into the ground, kicked the ball into the woods, stormed off the tee, pushed the golf cart over on its side, broke the rest of his clubs one by one, then started on hers.
He screamed and ranted, “You liar! You cheat! You despicable deceiver! How could you? I trusted you with all my heart and soul…and all these years you’ve been playing off the ladies tees!”
Not a lot new to report since Impish posted my last report on Saturday. Progress remains slower than Moly would have it, she continues to stubbornly push her boundaries and continues to pay for it in pain.
Saturday was pretty much unremarkable. Near constant sometime heavy rain and oppressively overcast condition leant the day to books and mindless television.
Sunday we both slept very late. Molly due to a 6 Am pain medication dose she usually tried avoiding but after a few hours in bed felt she needed badly and me because I’m still dealing with the aftermath of worrying over her and the toll its had on me.
She’s currently most noticeably suffering from cabin fever not having been appreciably out of the house in a week. She wanted to get out and to get ice cream and after her mentioning it several times I know I had to take action or she’d get it in her head to try driving and going out on her own. So we carefully loaded her and a dose of pain meds into the car and made a very short trip. We got our mail from of P.O. Box here at the Property Office and drove about a mile to Burger King, the closet place to get Molly an Ice Cream.
She decided that BK smelled like a good lunch idea so I got us lunches and her ice cream. I noticed as soon as she got her drink she took her pain med. While she was insistent she wanted more fresh air and the pain wasn’t ‘so bad’ I could see different on her face and hear it in her breath. Until that ride neither of us had under stood how much of your core muscles were involved in driving or riding in a moving vehicle. Over her objections we came straight home, though in deference to her ‘fresh air needs’ I took the ‘long way home’ (which added maybe a 1/4 mile to the trip) and we ate the lunch in the unmoving vehicle parked in front of our apartment.
Molly decided in retrospect post trip that cabin fever isn’t so bad after all and that she probably does need more healing time before driving. Her official first medically cleared drive is supposed to be to her Doctor’s visit on Thursday when we’ll learn more about what restrictions come off when and how her healing is progressing. Hopefully the Doctor will proscribe another pain med that will help her because these are about gone and possibly a bit much now. She’s avoiding them because they make her fuzzy and cause her to drop off at the blink of an eye lid.
Since everything is going about as well as can be expected there probably will not be a Molly Report Saturday. Most likely anything new isn’t going to be earth shattering (thank the Almighty) and can therefore wait until next week.
Thanks for all the continued well wishes thoughts prayers and the few eCards I have gotten for her from both Molly and meself.
Blondes Ain’t Always Entirely Dumb
Amy, a blonde Texas city girl, marries a Texas rancher.
One morning, on his way out to check on the cows, the rancher says to Amy, “The artificial insemination man is coming over to impregnate one of our cows today. I drove a nail into the two-by-four just above the cow’s stall in the barn so you know which one it is. You show him where the cow is when he gets here, OK?”
She says OK, and the rancher leaves for the fields.
A few hours later, the artificial insemination man arrives and knocks on the front door, and Amy takes him down the barn. They walk along a long row of cows and when she sees the nail, she tells him, “This is the one: right here.”
Terribly impressed by what he seemed to think was just another ditzy blonde, the man asks, “Tell me little lady, how did you know this is the cow to be bred?”
“That’s simple,” she says pointing. “By the nail over its stall”
Then the man asks, “What’s the nail for?”
“Well,” she says as she turns to walk away, “I guess it’s to hang your pants on.”
Originally I was set to run a joke in this spot that Impish beat me to on Saturday. you probably know the one, it started out:
A London lawyer runs a stop sign and gets pulled over by an Irish
Remember it? Yeah I thought so. Well when I first read his issue I was a little annoyed that I was losing two jokes as all I had left to do was find/figure out an Opening banner, then write a brief Molly Report and I was done with the issue. Fortunately I was able to locate two more jokes easily enough but when I came to this one I suddenly spotted the opportunity to hoist Impish on his own petard (btw if anyone really want to know what the phrase means and where it comes from you can found out here: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/hoisted+by+own+petard ).
Impish in your opening you basically admit that you haven’t stopped eating pie(s), just slowed way down. In essence you’re taking the part of the London Lawyer. Well I’m playing the Irish cop. Right now you’re only in the intake ward. You’ve yet to be integrated to the Bat Shit Crazy Barracks at Lethal’s Addiction Boot Camp. That Hokey Pokey Clinic sign? Window dressing pure and simple. putting up a Purgatory for Addicts Deprograming Boot Camp Center sign would have attracted too much attention, especially at a ‘Black Detention Center’ (well ok it’s actually my personal detention center so lets call it a ‘Green Detention Center’ shall we?).
Ok I’m going to stop mid thought here. I just had a call from Impish at the facility. It’s the first call he’s made to me since arriving there (he’s allowed 1 call to me a day and only one). As per usual my comments appear like this and Impish’s comments appear like this.
Lethal: You DO realize I’m going to use that Irish cop joke against you?
You haven’t stopped doing pies- just slowed down. So consider rehab a no bruise because you’d get off on the whips & chain version of what the cop does to that Limey
Impish: Let’s see. Do I want you to slow down or stop?
(there is about a 5 second pause where Impish seems to be actually considering/weighing this)
Lethal: I’ll ask you that question in a weeks time after you’ve been in the care of both Col. Nathan Jessup & Gunny Hartman. Recognize them names? I want you cured and, since you’re resisting, I brought in only the best motivational heavy hitters to deal with your stubborn thick-headedness.
Impish: Oh shit! No really!!!! I’m cured!!!! I’m cured!!!!!
Lethal: Scared straight huh? Might have been a whole lot more convincing if I hadn’t already read the issue before you called me. The Irish have a saying ‘Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me!’ Well, I’m not about to get shamed! We’ll talk about how cured you are again in a week. Mean time- Enjoy Boot Camp!
Lethal: You know that scream is the FIRST thing I’ve heard come out of you since you got back from Draconia I believe!
Impish I have one more ‘motivational‘ surprise for you. That nearly a ton of meat I promised you would be arriving today
Remember that little place on the mythic planes I took you a few times? The pocket dimension where the time differential is like 1:10? An hour here is like 10 hours there? We’ve gone for a literally quick day off a couple times or to get boat loads of work accomplished to catch up? Well I sent a few of your… shall we call them “fluffier’/more “Rubenesque” virgins with hearty appetites there for some time off. I of course sent along everything they’d need with them including food abet all in the form of pies. I mean, hey if pies are good for the Gander, they should be good for the goose as well to turn the phrase right?
I sent them when you had your first intervention because I figured on something like this happening. I’ve have been checking on them regularly and replenishing their pie stocks. They’ve been gone only four weeks of our time but that’s roughly 9 month effective time for them living on nothing but pies. In fact not ALL your pies blew up I had already moved some in anticipation of moving the girls so they have in effect been dining on YOUR pies, the exact same ones YOU’D horde and eat.
OH! THAT REMINDS ME! That super secret pie manufacturing and storage facility you had hidden in that missile storage silo out in the Dakota Badlands? You know, the one you had misleadingly named ‘Jersey Site 1’? Here’s a photo of it from yesterday:
Now where we’re we? AH! YES! As I write this
your ton of your favorite meat, err..those fresh back from vacation virgins are on their way to you now. I believe they were some of your favorites. Here’s a picture so you’ll recognize your ton of your favorite meat, err.. them:
NOW IMPISH- Here is my version of a Col. Jessup “Code Red” so pay close attention!
I have TWELVE more of your virgins clamoring for a vacation as long as you are gone. Am I sending them to the same place along with as much pie as they can eat and repeating this process until ALL your virgins look like these four, UNLESS YOU KICK YOUR PIE HABIT ONCE AND FOR ALL!
I’ll leave you with a thought to ponder while you make your choice, I’ve got an issue to finish repairing and pies to order. Enjoy your reunion with
your ton of your favorite meat, err… virgins!
The Talking Parrot
Impish went on down to Old Spring, Texas one Saturday night to see what was selling at Pot o’ Gold Auctions. Well, they had a parrot there that a rich lady was selling, and Impish kindly took a likin’ to the critter. When the auctioneer brought the bird around for bidding, Impish asked him, “Lethal, does that parrot really talk?”
Lethal Leprechaun, the head of the auction house, assured Impish it could talk and furthermore, it was real smart.
Impish made up his mind to buy it, pulling all $2,000 out of his savings account just in case. Well, the bidding commenced, and Impish jumped right in and stayed at it all the way.
Several folks were bidding, but when the bids hit about $800, it settled down to a real mean contest between Impish and someone at the front of the room. Impish finally won the bid at $1,900 even, though he looked a bit pained as he walked to the auction office to pay for the thing.
When he got ready to pay, Impish again asked the auctioneer, “Are you sure that parrot kin really talk, Lethal?”
Lethal said, “Impish, I know that parrot bloody well talks right well, seein’ how ‘twas the bleeding parrot his self bidding against you.”
Since Impish and I make reference to them often enough I thought I occasionally post a candid of one of our key staff members.
This is Wednesday the middle one of the infamous 5 sisters named for days of the week that work for us. You can generally find her At the reception desk in the main lobby. When not directing people to their destination and announcing them Wednesday is an apprentice Valkyrie.
Having one of _those_ days. First, stupid pointy face horse pooped rainbows all over front lawn. Then Caveowners Association came by and complained about rainbows. Ended up flaming lawn & ateding CA rep. Cat applauded both.
Fafnir, Fafnir, Bahamut, & Lung, dragons at law offered job again, also help with Enchanted Forest Board election. They “like” the idea of dragon lawyer in government. Who died & left me all this respectability? Seriously missing old lone wolf rampaging dragon image. Maybe need to burn down a couple of castles and carry off some maidens.
In effort to shed growing aura of respectability purchased world’s largest set of motorcycle leathers and painted Hell’s Dragon’s logo on back. Pretty spiffy actually.
Cat is sleeping on MY leather jacket. Would yank it loose if cat didn’t look sooo cute snuggled in D of Hell’s Dragons logo. Sigh.
Strange day. I seem to have acquired a valet. Werewolf named Weasley “volunteered.” I’ll probably ated him in the morning.
New valet, Crusher Weasley, laid out leathers ever so nicely this morning. Decided not to ated him. Most likely ated him _tomorrow_ morning. Or perhaps the morning after that.
New valet, Weasley, is really working out, though he has some very fixed ideas about wardrobe. Thinks I should ditch new boater. Maybe I should ated him in the morning.
Summer is passing so quickly. I feel like there are million and one people I wanted to ated but haven’t had the time. Sigh.
Saw my first knight in ages He: Foul wyrm, blah, blah, blah…smiting Me: SNACKIES! crunch, crunch, crunch…ateding. Win Dragon!
Cat got me a cake with a princess in it. Ated princess when she jumped out. Then ated cake. Also, cake stand.
This valet thing completely rules. Weasley has started bringing me a bucket of martinis on silver platter right after dinner,plus small jigger of gin and tuna oil for cat. Sooo not going to ated him in the morning.
How did it get to be fall? Stupid Enchanted Forest Board elections coming up fast and cat says I need to stop ateding constituents for the duration. Humph!
Tiamat’s witnesses came by again. Am starting to think there’s something to this dragon worship thing. Of course, they have wrong dragon, so I ated them. After, cat pointed out they might have been voters. So I pointed out they were door knockers and also delicious. Cat agreed that was probably more important.
Hmm…wonder if Queen Tiamat has seen Impish’s Diary? Bet fearing for his life would get Impish’s mind off pies!