Saturday, January 31, 2009

In Non-Celebration ...


Since its founding, African Americans have played - and continue to play - a vital role in the history and culture of America. Black history is American history.

Black History Month?

No one else has a history month or week or day dedicated to them. Not Chinese, Indians, Irish, Jews, Mexicans, whoever. And there is no need for a Black History Month, either.

I remember doing a report in school on both Booker T. Washington and George Washington Carver at various times. I studied Martin Luther King, Jr. and Charles Drew. Who were these people to me? They were pioneers and scientists and historical figures and people who made a difference. A difference in American history.

People who just happened to be black.

Just like Michio Kaku, a famous Japanese American scientist known for his string field theory. Just like Graciela Olivarez, Mexican American, who fought for the civil rights of minorities and justice for the poor. Just like philanthropist Stephen Girard, a French immigrant, who made part of his fortune as America’s first private banker and left the bulk of that fortune to the City of Philadelphia to build and operate a residential school for needy children. How about Levi Strauss, Jewish American creator of Levi’s jeans? Or Henry Ford, Irish American and pioneering automobile manufacturer?

Do we have a Japanese American History Month? A Mexican American History Month? A French American History Month? A Jewish American History Month? An Irish American History Month? These are a few examples of a mere handful of famous Americans, present and past. No month is dedicated to their cultures or histories.

This debate can go on and on and on.

The point? American history is made of the diversity of people from all walks of life, all economic classes, all educations and backgrounds. No single month can educate or celebrate or hold a candle to the contributions of the countless peoples that make up our American history.

No matter who they are.

No more whining. No more “months”. Let’s let history be history and let’s remember it for what it is: American history without any biases.

Enough already.

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


Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Good Riddance



Dear Bug:

It's nothing personal, but I can't honestly state it's been a pleasure being your host for the last few days. Matter'n fact, you've been a pain. Right to the very core.

Your limited stay has resulted in weariness, nap taking, sniffles, dry mouth, painful coughing, chills, overall achiness, loss of appetite, aversion to coffee, apathy, unproductiveness, grumpiness, suspect driving habits, excessive pill taking, watery eyes, incredibly sore abs from hacking coughs in the middle of the night, restlessness, general uncomfortability, hot and cold flashes, thick-headedness and fogginess beyond comprehension.

Oh ... I understand. It's what you do. But the time has come for you to high-tail it out of my body. I'm done. I'm done with everything you've created to make yourself comfortable while you've taken up residence.

Days ago, I should have pulled out "the secret weapon"; it's just been so long since last I was sick, I'd forgotten what a strong, potent ally the secret weapon was.

That's right:

Here come the garlic pills.

They rid the body of all foreign inhabitants, as you well know. I just wish I would have taken them a lot sooner than today.

Again, it's nothing personal, but this I can honestly state: I will be glad to see you take your leave, post haste.

Good riddance.

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


Monday, January 19, 2009

I Know What I'm Talkin' About ...


Pretty spiffy tune for the upcoming inaugural, if you ask me.


"I'd kinda like to be the President ...
then I can show you how your money's spent ..."






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


Saturday, January 17, 2009

Reason And Faith


In the summer of 1864, Abraham Lincoln invited Joshua Speed, his best friend, to spend an evening at the Soldiers' Home, the Lincolns' summer residence. When Speed arrived, he found Lincoln reading the Bible.

Speed remarked: "I am glad to see you profitably engaged."

"Yes," said Lincoln, "I am profitably engaged."

"Well," Speed continued, "if you have recovered from your skepticism, I am sorry to say that I have not."

Then, according to Speed's account, Lincoln rose, placed his hand on Speed's shoulder and said:

"You are wrong, Speed. Take all of this book upon reason that you can and the balance on faith, and you will live and die a happier and better man."



..... Ruprecht ( STOP )


Friday, January 16, 2009

Rumor Quasher, Bane Of Doubters Everywhere


There is a certain someone.

A certain someone who doubts Rupe.

So Rupe's here to quash the doubt. Once and for all.

Do you remember "Jack, The Giant Killer"? Well, Rupe's taking the guise of

Rupe, The Rumor Quasher.

It seems Rupe's little photo project of a few days ago has been met with skepticism. Seems the lighting was a bit too suspect. That the photo seemed a bit "too convenient", that it was posted "to gain maximum benefit from the subject matter". hhhhmmmmmmm .....

Words were tossed about suggesting the photo Rupe provided wasn't all it was cracked up to be. That it was doctored ... altered ... fixed ... fake ... fudged ... messed with ... inconceivable ... grossly inaccurate ... sullied ... underhandedly-offered.

Well, Rupe says *pshah* to that sort of talk. Rupe'll let the photos do the talking below.

And as an added bonus, if'n you click on each and everyone, it will magically enlarge for your dining and dancing pleasure. Go ahead. Scrutinize 'til your eyeballs are sore. (And bring your dog 'round - we'll give him a bonus, too.)

Doctored my ass.

Sincerely and With Affection To 'You Know Who' .....

............................. Ruprecht ( STOP-ping the rumors )









Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Ashton Bourne Interrogation

Ashton Daigle retaliated. And, in accordance with Maria's Got Questions, Rupe submitted to further monkey business.

The results are in ...



.....
Rupe, more than anyone I’ve really ever had the pleasure to meet, does things to the English language that I’ve never seen done before. Call’em Rupisms if you will, but they are many and varied. Examples: Wassabi; Frolickery (I still can’t spell that one); workery; and my all-time personal favorite “Morganin” How did these come about? Is this something you’ve been doing all your life? A little background please; and maybe a few new ones to add to the arsenal.

Rupe does have a way with butchering words, don’t he?
Rupe likes words. Rupe digs punctuation. Rupe detests emoticons and LOLs and OMGs and crap. (Though, Rupe must admit, he enjoys the occasional “Kthxbai!” That’s so funny to Rupe ...) Rupe digs researching words and phrases. (You might recall Rupe’s aghasticity (say THAT three times fast!) over the word “taint”. Rupe thought he’d never be able to use it again ... nor listen to Tainted Love without feeling guilty. But Rupe nipped that in the bud.

Rupe’s an English Major. (And just an okay one at that.) And Rupe ... he do dig the English language ... difficult as it might be. Rupe zipped through all his English classes in school and begged for more. Rupe even gets carried away oft times in his explanations and such. Writing’s a kick, ain’t it?

(But Spanish is so much easier. You got five freakin’ vowels that sound exactly the same, no matter what word they’re nestled within. Verbs? Just a few. No such thing as a Thesaurus in Spanish as far as Rupe’s concerned.)

Onward. Some etymology:

Wasabi: Rupe can’t take credit for this one. A friend of Rupe’s began using it off the cuff years ago and Rupe adopted it. For those who don’t know it outside it's usual "Japanese horseradish
" normalcy, it’s Rupe’s way of asking “What’s up?”

Frolickry / Workery: Yup. Rupe uses these all the time. You know zactly what you get with those words.

Morganin’: It’s just Rupe’s way of saying Good Morning in a completely Rupian way.

Wife of Rupe and Rupe have our own language, matter’n fact. We state things that are off the cuff, yet know precisely what the other is talking about. For example, a good word for something you can’t pinpoint ‘cause you’re experiencing a brainfart is “Whochamuhwaggit”. We say this often and know precisely of what we speak when offered. “Hey ... where’d the Whochamuhwaggit go? I saw it just last week!”

You gotta say it fast, though. “Whochamuhwaggit”. Say it with me: “Whochamuhwaggit”. That’s it, you got it. Just a little faster now: “Whochamuhwaggit, Whochamuhwaggit
, Whochamuhwaggit, Whochamuhwaggit”. There you go! You got it! Score!

I call my girls “goof” and “gaff” and “chunks” and “giff”. No explanation as to why - they just work. Wife of Rupe is called “weed” sometimes. I exclamate tons with “Egads!”, “Chihuahua”, “hoij”, “Cripes!” and more. “Ungapotchkin” (pronounced "uhn-guh-potch-kin") is a favorite. (“Looks like you gots a little ungapotchkin on your lip, there. Need a napkin?”) You know how some people say “on and on and on” and “so on and so forth”? Rupe says: “Well, he said this, then he said that, followed by the other ... biddup, biddup, biddup, biddup, biddup”. (I even have a buddy of mine who called me on this, stating I got him saying “biddup” in the exact same manner as does Rupe. Influence and subconscious mutterings! They’re beautiful things ... !!!

Rupe uses many, many foreign words and phrases lots as well. S’not verboten for Rupe to do so.

So: Where do all these derivations and bastardizations and scatological vocalizations come from? Just Rupe’s fertile mind, s’all. I used a few up top there without even blinking an eye ... did you notice? “Zactly” (sometimes “zachry”). “Matter’n fact”. You’ve no doubt noticed Rupe uses “ownself” and “if’n” bunches.

Y’see, the way Rupe figgers it, that’s what English is all about. It’s a spiffy language. Rupe’d hate to have to learn it, however. That would be a monumental, Herculean task, ‘specially for someone just coming over here from somewhere else.

“What do you mean it’s “an apple” and “a car”, but “an honor”? Are you goofy ... ?!?”

“Two, to and too? Which one, dammit?”

“I’ll “vary” your very you little ...”


Fun, fun stuff. And at no charge.

..... This one has a couple parts. On more than one occasion Rupe’s mentioned his New Orleans days. Did you ever live here? How did you come to live here? How long did you live here? Why did you leave?

Rupe worked for a general contractor in his younger days. He hip-hopped all over the country building Sbarros pizza joints in malls. Ordering peach mirror. Contracting out for shiny floor tile. Razzamatazzing with the inspectors. For a glorious eight weeks or so, Rupe worked in Nawlins and lived right off Bourbon Street on Toulouse (700 block, if memory serves); upstairs apartment for two, spacious, cozy and accommodating.

And Rupe loved Nawlins: Aaaaaahh, the shrimpys. The hush puppies. The dirty rice. Jackson Square. Café Du Monde. The Cafe Au Lait in the hot, steamy morganin'. The tempting beignets. Fried catfish sammiches. Po’Boys. The cobblestones. The architecture. The cemeteries. The music. The revelry. The culture. The crawfish. (Suck them heads!) The voodoo shops. Rupe bar hopped and hung out and made tons of friends. Many of them were gay. ("Aren't you cold?" "You see any goose bumps on these legs?" "No ... would you like some?") But they knew to keep their distance from Rupe. Man, were there stories.

Rupe really dug living there.


Awwwww ... but it was fleeting. When you’re having fun, eight weeks zips by pretty quickly.

Last time Rupe was there was about 10 years ago to attend the funeral of his Uncle Zoray. (Big Ears, in French.) Rupe still has relatives in Reserve - outside New Orleans - and the surrounding parishes. Yup. Rupe misses The Big Easy.

..... Well, things are dwindling down now in the NFL. Neither my Saints or Rupe’s Raiders came close to making the playoffs. We’re left with AFC and NFC championship games on Sunday and then Super Bowl. I want Rupe’s picks for all three games; with supporting explanations.

The thing is, Rupe hasn’t had much of an opportunity to follow pigskin much over the course of the last few years. Used to hit the Monday night parties and swarrees pretty heavily in the day.

And yes: Rupe’s a big Raider fan, I don’t care who says anything differently.


With little football watching beneath Rupe’s belt this season, Rupe still marks the Eagles over the Cards and the Ravens routing the Steelers with the Ravens taking the trophy. Why? Gut feeling. Yeah, Rupe knows: Poor excuse for a supporting explanation ... but it is what it is.

Rupe’s weakest response.

..... Does Rupe recycle? Why or why not?

Damn straight Rupe recycles!

When Rupe was a kid, his grandfather used to recycle. And this was way, way, way before recycling became fashionable, green or the right thing to do. (Green. Yeah, right. Green in those days was something that needed to be tossed out of the icebox as it was no longer edible.)

And Grandpa, well ... Grandpa was a son-of-a-gun, let Rupe tell you. He had tiny Rupe putting little pebbles in the cans before crushing them to weigh them down ... get more bang for his efforts. Rupe didn’t know any better. Rupe was just havin’ fun searching for pebbles and dropping them into the cans.

Anywho, yes: Rupe recycles.
Rupe even has a Crusher ( ... in his best Bugs Bunny referee announcer voice, yells: “The Crusher!”) to assist in thinning the bulk out of the cans so’s Rupe can get more cans, more weight, more return cash. (Rupe usually stomps'em though. It's a workout.) You see: In California - as in many states - we pay a CRV. A CRV is a "California Redemption Value' - a deposit paid on purchases of certain recyclable beverage containers. The reason? Well, there’re three: 1) To encourage recycling, 2) To discourage littering, and 3) To generate revenue from unclaimed redemptions and sales tax on the CRV. (What a load .....)

Rupe’s even dragged bags and bags and bags (more than a few hundred pounds, Rupe imagines) of crushed aluminum cans from Utah to California to recycle. No CRV in Utah ... but you still get the redemption in California! Zounds!

But Rupe does it cause it’s right, too. (And ‘cause if Rupe doesn’t, he’s giving away that CRV each and everytime he picks up something at the store that he has to pay a redemption value on! Hell, no! Rupe’s hard earned dough isn’t going to the government any more than it has to! Bugger!)

And even if Rupe didn’t get any cash back, he’d still recycle. Rupe hates litter, you see ...

..... And, although this one is slightly lacking in originality; as it was a question Rupe; I have to ask…cake or pie??

And I’m ‘posed to top your take on the Cake Or Pie debate ... ?!?

Cake. Hands down. German Chocolate, to be precise. Though, I had a Brown Spice Cake made ‘specially for me by the boss’s wife last month for my birthday. Man ... that one was delicious. And cupcakes - made just right - well ... I can put away a few of those.

Not to say that the neighbor we used to live next to didn’t do a doozy of a cake for birthdays.

(Weird, though. That neighbor hides quarters in her cakes. Her whole family does. Person that finds the quarter ............... I don’t know. Good luck? Doesn’t have to do the dishes? Buys gas for the family for a month? Rupe has no idea. It’s just the thought of a quarter in a baked cake, y’know? Don’t they know how many people handle the average American quarter?!? And you know they don’t sterilize it or wipe it off or run it through the dishwasher or nuthin’ a’fore putting it in the cake. It’s almost enough to make you not want to eat the cake.)


But Rupe digresses. She does make a good cake ....

So. The answer is cake.

.....

Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ pie. Oooooooooooh. Cherry pie. Warm cherry pie. With sweet crumbles on top. And a hunka Breyer’s Natural Vanilla on top, meltingly slipping down the side of the warm pie. Mayhap a nice slice of sharp cheddar to top it off. Rupe’s mouth’s waterin’ as he writes this.

And Dutch Apple with crumblies atop it. Yummy. And Custard Pie. Oh, my! Custard pie! Rupe does dig the custard pie. Even the McCrappage apple pies (sacrilege!) are rather tasty if it’s a quick bite of pie your looking for. But, I have to agree with you, ash: On the run, a Hostess Pie purchased from the local town pump is a breakfast in and of itself. Especially if it’s a cherry pie. Rupe does have the tendency to lean toward the cherry pie. That’s if, of course, there’s no home-made Cocoanut Pie lying around, waiting to be done away with. The person that knows how to prepare the perfect cocoanut pie should be relegated to upper-crustedness when it comes to pie creation.

So. The answer is pie.

Dammit! This is harder than I thought. Look: If there is a cake and a pie sitting there on the table and one looks more delectable than the other, than that’s the winner. Less, of course, your a’hankerin’ for the other one, I don’t care how good the competition is. Then that’s the winner.

But ... you really need an answer and I don’t want to disappoint.

If I have to choose, it’s going to be .................. pie.

And as a special bonus
question (bring your dog ‘round and we’ll give him a bonus, too), just ‘cause he could ask it, Ash queries:
..... Has Rupe ever worked in journalism before?

Rupe has been many things, done many things. (Some too sordid to mention.) But always with a twinkle in his toes and a smile on his lips.

Journalism, however is not one of those things.

Rupe has, however, written copy previously. For radio commercials, newspapers, articles, customer mission statements and brochures, advertising and more, more, more, more ... but journalism officially?

No. Rupe hath snot.

_____________________________________________________


What? You want to be interviewed? Do you know of what you ask ... ?!?

Okay. Just let Rupe know.

But don't forget the rules....


You have to link back to the The Immoral Matriarch and Rupe's post and include the following in your post:

Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.


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



Monday, January 12, 2009

The Call Of The Big Mac - A Poem ...


I heard it, at first, when the radio was on
The Call Of The Bic Mac: "Hello, there. Food's on."
It called my name and how it did knew'd it
Will ne'er be known. The
Mac, it just do'd it.

With a tempting bun and a sesame seed
It called to me, softly, to come fill a need.
The secret sauce, cheese, the pickles, the meat
It beckoned me: "Let's go. Come on ... let's eat ..."


And, as luck would have it, not a single
Mac callBut two ... a two-fer special ... a double Mac haul.
A taste of heaven, twice over no less!
My will is weak,
Mac, and that I confess.


You seduce, you motion, you caress and you wink.
My senses are faulty; when you're near I can't think.
Your pickles, your lettuce, your savory smell!
I'm akin to Pavlov's dog, simply ding-a-ling that bell!


I'll crave you and want you and pay my three fiddy
I'll sing your sweet theme song; oh what a diddy!
The dreams that I have are of you, my dear Mac
I awake in the night in mid-burger attack.


This, this, oh Mac, is what you do to my psyche.
You get under my skin, I awake and yell "Yikey!"
And it's all for the love of them double patties of beef ...
Big Mac, you're my longing, my desire, my relief.






*sigh* At McDonald's, it's Big Mac time for you.

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



Friday, January 9, 2009

Pardon The Hair! Everybody!



The following are excerpts from a recent news report concerning the impeachment of Rod Blagojevich. Is there anything in the items below that you notice absent? Try and guess:

“Gov. Rod Blagojevich was impeached Friday ...”

“... a defiant Blagojevich insisted again that he committed no crime ...”

“... a victim of political payback ...”

“No other Illinois governor has ever been impeached ...”

“... we supported him and he's disgraced us.”

“... the first U.S. governor in more than 20 years to be impeached.”

“Blagojevich did not testify before the House impeachment committee and has not offered an explanation for the criminal charges.”

“... lawmakers complained that Blagojevich had made a laughingstock out of the state.”

Did you guess it? What good eyes you have!

There is not one single, solitary word about Rod Blagojevich’s hair.

Hair that is not at issue.

Hair that is guilty, it seems, by association only.

Hair that can’t help who’s head it sits atop.

Innocent hair.

Unique hair.

Thick hair.

But, mostly: Blameless hair.

In this time of need in the political system, there has never been more of a call for a pardon.

Someone, please, inform outgoing President George W. Bush to ...

Pardon The Hair

... before he takes leave of office.

As a nation, may I humbly suggest we collectively ...

Pardon The Hair

... if the President cannot or will not.

It didn't do anything other than have the bad luck to sit atop an Illinois head, after all .....


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




P.S. I sure hope William Devane
doesn't think he had anything to do with this .....



Thursday, January 8, 2009

Five Miles Later .....


Over the weekend, we got the opportunity to take a gander at one of the 2009 Rose Parade Entries.

The City Of Sierra Madre's, to be exact.

It was displayed in all its glory in the main "square", smack dab in uptown Sierra Madre.

Up close and personal, vibrant colors and more .... for your enjoyment, sans fragrance (sorry):


Mingling, mingling, observing .....


Winner ... !!!

Cranes, nestled comfortably amongst the roses .....

Big, decorated elephant ..... complete with ears dripping orchids!

Detail .....

Flowers and plants and more .....



Couldn't they have at least provided a trashcan
for the driver to toss his empties?


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


Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Monkey Business



Fear And Parenting In Las Vegas asked me questions. In accordance with Maria's Got Questions monkey business fnp committed to, I'm doing same.

Ready? Set? Go ...

okely dokely. Here are your five questions:

1. Why did you start your blog in the first place?


It was my way of getting in touch with the little latent creatures chock-full of creative tendencies lying within at the pit of my mind, begging to be released.

They’ve since not only helped to free themselves from stagnation, but have provided entertainment, valuable information and assistance to others as well. Go figger.


2. Now that you've made your affinity for geek-loving girls well known, what geek-loving girl fills your fantasies?

Affinity? For geek-loving girls?!?

I beg your pardon. No such affinity – nor fantasy - exists. I believe you to be exaggerating a tad, fnp.


You speak, of course, to the recent post I logged concerning Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt.

*yeesh* A guy can’t even make a girl’s day by proffering a pleasant comment without it being lavishly misconstrued …..

3. Given your recent papparazzi photography at the post office, tell us about your most notorious celebrity sighting/encounter?

Notorious. Notorious. Notorious. Well … I’ll give it a go.

This one is notorious in the sense it was performed whilst in the midst of hundreds of people. Said celebrity was monumentally embarrassed because of my antics:

There he was.

Sam J. Jones.

Actor and star of Flash Gordon.

The film had been released in 1980 complete with a bevy of spiffy actors and actresses, a soundtrack by none other than Queen and (added bonus!) it was released on my birthday!


Sam Jones. Readying his booth for autograph seekers the world over.

Interestingly, I thought, was the fact his Flash Gordon poster in the background was falling down behind him. He had arisen to fix it his ownself. What a photographic opportunity, I thought!


As I tried to get a shot off, a figure kept looming into my view – a woman, I noted - ruining my fleeting opportunity to snap Sammy. I didn’t want to take my eye from the viewfinder lest the moment escape, but the chick kept getting in my line of sight.

I snarked at my buddy who was observing all and getting a kick out of the fact I would probably miss the shot I wanted. “Who the hell is in my way?!?” I grumbled. “Tell her to move off to the side so I can get this shot!” I commanded of him.

“But, but, but ….” he stammered, “I can’t! You know who it is?”

“I don’t give a crap!” I yelled. “Tell her to move! Now!”

I could tell by his response he was starry-eyed about whoever it was, curtailing his effort to fulfill my wish: “But ….. it’s Erin Gray from Buck Rogers! I can’t tell her to do that!”

I know an opportunity when I see one. I dropped my camera, losing my sight and losing my shot, and yelled as loud as I could:

“Hey! Erin! Get the hell outta the way! Can’t you see I’m trying to get a shot of Flash Gordon here … ?!?”


Everybody and his brother within a hundred feet turned to look at not only me but who I was yelling at. Completely embarrassed, Erin slunk away, red-faced, tail tucked ‘tween legs.

I was laughing so hard, I almost didn’t get my picture of Sammy.



Being a Buck Rogers fan myself (not to mention an admirer of Erin Gray), I immediately went up to her, apologized and asked if she would forgive me my outburst. She was timid and wary of me, but loosened up when I asked if I could get a picture of the two of us together. We chatted and laughed for a good twenty minutes, talking acting and opportunities.

Good times.



4. Now that the inauguration is nearly upon us, have you had any more interesting dreams about Barrack Obama or other poliitcos?

No. I have not.

However, back to that particular dream about President-Elect Obama: It just might be a sign. Stay tuned …..

5. Since Soren's too much of a chicken to reveal his preferences, I'll ask you....boxers, briefs, or banana hammock?

Easy. Boxer briefs … preferably in color. (“Banana hammock” … ?!?!? What do you think I am ... an elephant ... ?!?)

_____________________________________________________

Don't forget the rules....

You have to link back to the original post (http://immoralmatriarch.com/questionsagain) and Rupe's post and include the following in your post:

Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.


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





Sunday, January 4, 2009

Words Skolnik Would Love To Read ...




After church yesterday morning, Rupe and family ventured off to do a bit of shopping.

But first, we needed to break our fast. We'd not broken our fast a'fore leaving for church, so we were all pretty hungry.

Chipotle was our destination, being it sounded good to "the parents" ... though not so much to the girls. (You see ... parents can have their wants and needs fulfilled every once in a blue moon, too, y'know. The girls? Well, they'd just have to deal with it ...)

Food ordered, drinks being drunk, people watching underway.

And that's when Rupe witnessed The Best. Seeing such, Rupe immediately let out a guffaw right in the midst of a burrito chomp that startled the wife.

As I laughed heartily, she asked what my deal was. Rupe told her to watch for the girl in the pink T-shirt who would have to make her way back to us after having ordered.

"Without ruining the moment, you'll just have to hold tight until you can read what's on the shirt to get the full effect," Rupe explained.

Patiently, we waited. I saw my wife's eyes dart up toward the register more times than naught, but still she was spurned from a glimpse of the front of Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt.

Finally, Rupe saw that his wife had indeed made contact. She squinted a bit in order to read the shirt ..... but the smile was immediate and undeniable.

Matter'n fact, she had a difficult time (I believe) containing her laugh as Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt walked on by our table.

Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt was wearing a severe rope tie 'round her face confining her pulled-back hair to the top and rear of her head.

Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt was wearing the goofiest pair of eyeglasses ever. Ever.

Here: Let me emphasize that: EVER.

Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt, you see, was a full-on female nerd. Straight out of Omega Mu from "Revenge Of The Nerds".

And, the thing was, it completely and totally "worked" for her. She looked fabulous.

She looked even more fabulous in the T-shirt she was wearing.

The bright pink T-shirt she was wearing.

The pink T-shirt she was wearing that said:

Talk Nerdy To Me

It was nothing less than superb.

Later, as we were leaving, Rupe went up to her, leaned over and told her:

"I just have to comment on your shirt. It's fabulous."

Slightly embarrassed, she thanked me and smiled a mile wide.

Embarrased as she might have been, I'm certain the glow on her face, having heard that comment, is still visible today ....

It was
The Best.



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




Saturday, January 3, 2009

That's All It Took ...




Three days into the New Year.

That’s all it took.

Here. Here’s a brief synopsis.

“Brother of Madonna” is now a joke catch phrase.

Italian Sweet Crème coffee creamer is a bit of a treat ... but I wouldn’t want it as a permanent substitution.

Rupe’s still anal. Our Christmas tree was cut and trimmed so’s to fit completely within the “green” bin for trash pickup. Complete with closing lid. Go figger.

The L.A. Times, in their infinite wizdumb, has raised Rupe’s Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday newspaper subscription from $.75 per week to $2.75 per week. Rupe’s not thrilled ... especially when we've had the same subscription rate for the last three years. For the time being, no paper will be gracing Rupe’s doorstep in protest. And someone’s gonna hear about it.

Upon coming home from a full day’s work one evening, I was greeted with “Your turn. Deal with your children.” Never a good sign.

Rupe heard a very, very disturbing story about Michael Buffer.

The See’s Candies® Victoria Toffee Rupe acquired as a Christmas gift is being milked to its fullest in teeny, tiny increments.

Chick fights rock.

California winters confuse the life and leaves out of deciduous trees.

Carl Weathers isn’t aging well.

Paella should not be made with artichoke hearts. Period.

Most of these will be submitted to further detail down the line.

Vote for your favorite. And good luck!


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


Thursday, January 1, 2009

New Year Brief


Yes, there was frolickry over the last few days. I'll write about it later; there really hasn't been an opportunity to sit and compose.

En lieu, here are a few humorous (to me, anyway) cartoons courtesy of today's paper.








.................. Ruprecht ( won't STOP )