Sunday, September 28, 2008

The Three Stages Of Embarrassment

The shrimpys.

They just loooooooooooooove to give up their succulent little lives for Rupe’s dining pleasure.

Just last Friday, Rupe and family took a jaunt to
Red Lobster to partake of their “endless shrimp” promotion. As noted elsewhere, Red Lobster lost money on that promotion when we went to dine that eve. You see .... when the shrimpys are on the menu and Rupe comes to dinner, you best get comfortable. Rupe ..... he loves the shrimpys.

So, it comes time to retell the tale of ‘The Three Stages Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet. A cautionary, true-life tale both humorous and memorable.

Rupe and his boss had been working all the live long day one Thursday in hot, sunny Las Vegas. They were in town for a Heavy Duty Truck Show. Rupe and boss had ventured out early in the morning, worked and walked the floor of the show a goodly part of the day and finally took off to see what they could see in the way of dinner. Rupe and boss hadn’t eaten at all that day and they were famished. Morning coffee was all they’d had, so the thought of food was all consuming. Suggestions were bandied about and Rupe requested somewhere with seafood as that sounded scrumptious and appealing.

It was decided the Flamingo buffet was the destination. Rupe and boss knew the Flamingo’s buffet was a fully stocked one with a bevy of selections and a reasonably priced one during the week. $18.00 a pop was a good deal for the company budget.

As Rupe and boss took their seats, after having made an initial run through the buffet complete with drinks ordered and the waiter having made certain everything was okee dokey, Rupe asked Jefe: “Hey ... have you ever heard of
‘The Three Stages Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet?”

“Nope. But I’m certain you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” replied Jefe. “Endulge me: what are
‘The Three Stages Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet?”

Rupe took a sip of his lemon water and began pointing at a passing diner. “Well, there goes the first one right there. See that guy? See the foot-high pile of food spilling over his plate? That’s damned embarrassing, don’tcha think? Especially being this is a buffet and he can go back as many times as he likes. Why the need to shovel a mile of food to overflowing on his dish when he doesn’t appear to be emaciated? That, Jefe, is ‘The First Stage Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet.”

The boss nodded his head in agreement. “Yup. You’re right about that. That is embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing, you think you have enough shrimp there?” Rupe’s boss asked, noting Rupe’s loaded plate.

“Hey ... you come to a buffet with me with seafood on the menu, you better get comfortable. You know that. So, get comfortable ...” Rupe replied.

Rupe and boss continued eating. They noted the highlights and low lights of the day. The next day’s itinerary was planned. A few more trips to the buffet were committed.

Throughout dinner, Rupe strategically placed table tents and glasses and condiment holders and the like between Rupe and boss. Rupe had a plan. The boss was unsuspecting.

“So ... what’s ‘The Second Stage Of Embarrassment’?” the boss queried.

“Well,” Rupe began, “Our little friend over there with the mile-high plate is about to leave. And check it out: All the food he piled on his plate? Half of it’s still there. That’s ridiculous. Not to mention it’s almost criminal. Thus: ‘The Second Stage Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet.”

“Yikes! You’re right! Why in the world .....” But Rupe’s boss let the questions trail off. Embarrassment was embarrassment and that’s all there is to it. Sometimes, there’s no need to question it ... nor is there a point in doing so.

Dinner was coming to a close. Both Rupe and boss had had their fill and were wondering whether there was any room for dessert. Jefe ordered coffee. Rupe sat back, contented, with his little plan in place.

As dinner progressed, Rupe had meticulously lined up all the little shrimpy tails on the rim of his used dinner plates. They were aligned perfectly on the plates’ edges - tail after shrimpy tail after shrimpy tail after shrimpy tail. Those shrimpy tails, outlining the rims of those plates, looked as if they were in formation, awaiting the commencement of some tune in order to begin a little circular march. There were hundreds of shrimpy tails. Literally.

With dinner finally finished, Jefe sat back, declared his gut stuffed to bursting and asked the final question of the evening: “Okay: I’ve heard the first and second; what, pray tell, is ‘The Third Stage Of Embarrassment’ at a buffet?”


Rupe removed the table tents and glasses and condiments to reveal the little shrimpy plate frames. “This is ‘The Third Stage Of Embarrassment’.”

Jefe saw the plates and guffawed. Loudly. “Holy Crap! That’s embarrassing!” he exclaimed.

Just then, the waiter came to see what the commotion was about. He spied the shrimpys on the table in their circuitous little formations and shot his hand to his mouth: “Wow! I mean wow! I’ve never seen anything like that in my life! That’s a work of art! I should hang those on the wall for everyone to see! Mario! Get over here! Take a look at this - you’re not gonna believe it!” he yelled in disbelief to a fellow employee.

Rupe’s boss Jefe laughed anew whilst sinking deeper into his seat, not certain if he wanted the shrimpy plates to draw any more attention than they already had.

“Jeez! I think you’ve just added a new stage of embarrassment to your little list!”

The shrimpys.

They just loooooooooooooove to give up their succulent little lives for Rupe’s dining pleasure.

...................... ( STOP )

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

P Dummy .....

In our current state of affairs, with goofy headlines such as these:

  • ... Rove calls Biden 'blowhard doofus'
  • ... Pizza guy films Gustav tornado
  • ... Raccoon rips holes in wall, grabs food Video T-shirt
  • ... Airline removes life vests to save weight and fuel

..... Rupe's trying exceptionally hard to cool his heels, keep his temper in check and not rail wildly about the stupidity of the story below .....

Fuel Prices Hit Rap Mogul P Diddy

Multi-millionaire hip-hop producer P Diddy has been forced to ground his private jet due to rising fuel prices.

The 38-year-old, whose real name is Sean Combs has said he will only fly with commercial airlines until the price of oil has come down.

Combs claims that two round-trips between Los Angeles and New York on board his personal jet now costs him around £108,000.

On his YouTube blog titled "Diddy Blog #12 - Gas Prices Are Too High", Diddy said: "As you know, I do own my own jet and I have been flying back and forth to LA pursuing my acting career.

"Now, if I'm flying back and forth, like, twice in a month that's like $200,000 or $250,000 round trip. F* that. I'm back on American Airlines right now, OK.

"This is proof that gas prices are too high, we need to do something about it, so tell whoever the next president is that we need to bring gas back down."

The successful US rap star who owns his own record label, clothing and perfume line, is said to be worth around £188 million.

Seriously. What an asshat.

There's so much within this blurby little news piece that is head-shakingly obvious it doesn't need to be highlighted.

The utter comedy within this story says it all. Check that: It ain't comedy - it's tragedy.

............................. Ruprecht shakes his head and says ( STOP the insanity )

P.S. "
Rove calls Biden 'blowhard doofus" ... ??? Really ... ?!?!? Cool ... !!!