Heading South

Do you know the way to Tampa Bay?
(okay, St. Petersburg, but that's harder to sing)

Yeah, uh, we knew the Sox would win the tie-breaker before it happened, including that Thome dinger.
"It's gone!"
(We really did know it was going to happen before it happened. Including the Thome dinger. Although we still love the Twinkies and yes I can. Vince.)
P.S.
We still hate the Cubs more than you do.

Ask Roscoe: Where's The Chocolate?

Cruella, I mean Roscoe, two part question:
Whatever happened to that Divine Chocolate post, I heard the entire box of chocolate was consumed by one person—any truth to the rumor the taste tester in question had to be removed from the Middleton Splash Park with a crane and a 2-liter bottle of seltzer?

"Frisbee? There were all these dogs there and this one giant dog that didn't smell like a dog freaked me out man freaked me OUT what the hell is that thing and everywhere we went there were treats treats TREATS all those people and little humans no one was scared of me everyone kept asking if I was being a skunk today what the hell does that mean people kept petting me and laughing and giving me things and then we went to the park where sometimes I have to show those damn dogs no one better screw with me or the one that smells like sugar and no problems weird there were some fast walkers the lowest one in the pack order made three touchdowns and more dogs and music and treats we lost the contest people like lions more than skunks who cares I swam for hours and me and this little girl kept making sugar smell go deeper and deeper in the water it was really funny and then Troy Gardens where this dog tried to show me how fast he could run I showed him then ate a turnip."

"What the hell is that thing?"

Dinner

You hear nothing in the next room.
I hear everything in the next room.
You smell nothing in the next room.
I smell ice cream sundaes in the next room.
You hear nothing in the next room...
I hear a canister of whipped cream in the next room.

Fffzzzsssshhhfffttt.

I hear nothing in the next room.

And this was dinner.
Hey, there was fruit.

Where did the two tall ones go?
You smell of Edy's and Smuckers—does my tongue look fuzzy to you?

Rainy Days and Mondays

This dog day afternoon brought to you by Fox's Glacier Mints, the last candy in the bag.
Your hard mint is the orange Popsicle of the candy world. Not quite candy, not quite mouthwash, the clear mint is often overlooked and misunderstood.

Among the remains in an old bag of wrappers from Irish Fest were some Fox's Glacier Mints, and what a lovely surprise they were.
The crystal color and mellow mint taste were appealing, working as both an emergency cover up and candy. Easy to crunch and pulverize, I rank Fox's mints high among the last-to-be-eaten candy type.

Some of us need a breath mint more than others. Especially on a rainy, muggy weekend filled with relatives housed in close quarters.

Roscoe's brother Leo (pictured above) and cousin Clara (below) were staying over. Much like Vince Young, Roscoe needed to get out and watch the Packer game down by the pub, I mean grab a little me time.

Both Clara and Leo reminded Roscoe of their "no dog left behind" policy, but Roscoe reminded them it wasn't his policy unless he was the dog being left behind.

He was ready to hit the trail as soon as I rolled into the driveway.

Where's a corn dog? Whaddya mean you're a wet corn dog doncha get it?

Meanwhile, back at dog central, Leo was mesmerized by the sound of whipping cream coming from the kitchen.

To Be Continued

Hi-Chew

Gesundheit.
Danie (Cujo's mom) brought two packs of Morinaga Hi-Chews back from Hawaii months ago and I've been rat holing them ever since. She fell in love with the Japanese fruit chews after becoming parched when climbing something larger than expected (volcano, surfer, who knows).
I thought maybe they'd be like Quench gum because Danie found them so crazy refreshing. Not quite, but there are distinct chewing gum overtones.
I tried the grape and green apple and loved how the tastes and textures played off each other. The individually wrapped pieces are bite-sized, but hearty enough to be bitten off like chaw.
The candy's white outside reminded me of pineapple—I'd love to get my teeth into all their flavors (like Mamba, they also have Cola). Hi-Chews are chewier, heartier, and somehow softer than comparable candy.

Bug dove into both flavors like a linebacker into a wideout after the play is over and you think no one is looking. Bug.

Jackie preferred the green apple over the grape, finding both kinds subtle, but flavorful, different, and not too sweet. She was able to taste the candy more thoroughly as it became softer with chewing.

Gramps here (Phil 2) tersely summed up the candy as "chewy."
Indeed.

Disgruntled Thursday

Empty the trash.
What's that guy in lederhosen doing at a seafood place.
That's way too much information.
You whiteboard all that stuff about happy hour and highballs, then don't serve alcohol.
I hate people who fabricate verbs willy-nilly.
I hate the expression "willy-nilly."
What key lime pie—I don't see any.
Why is the cashier holding all that money. Don't handle all that damn money and then serve me food.
Those pants on that girl in the background are too tight.
Someone threw away a plastic bottle instead of taking three damn steps to toss it in the recycling bin.
What the hell is Libu Coconut Shrimp? Leave the shrimp alone, they already died to feed you, isn't that enough?
My mother keeps calling key lime pie from the Hubbard Avenue Diner "cheesecake."

Munched Out Monday: A Taste of Madison

The Taste of Madison is a great excuse to indulge yourself until you pass out from one thing or another. The asshole quotient is low and they do things like put a free pop stand next to one that costs money.
I had way more free pop than is healthy which is why I'm typing so fast right now and think swimming across Lake Mendota sounds like a really good idea. (It's not.)

Do you have any Italians made from scratch?
You heard right, ladies, no more pit hair you could fit with a collar and leash, no more smoking cigars with "the men" at the table while you and the girls clean up the meal it took you 12 hours to prepare and serve.
Yes, order an Italian Made From Scratch today!
Order now and we'll include a Drinking Buddy Made From Scratch: Had it with boozed soaked buddies throwing up on your good linen or household pets while on the line with Hong Kong? Free to the first 100 callers.

Act now and we'll throw in a Dog In A Basket absolutely free! This cuddly canine enjoys food festivals, classic rock, and staying hydrated.

There's chocolate pot? Where? Oh.

No time for socks when things are being dipped in chocolate.

Fine tunes. This Hendrix solo was outstanding. Some guys from Blue Oyster Cult and Survivor and Pat Travers were there.

Yeah, I like to let the boys roam free in this little number. What did Hill get yesterday, something like 200 yards and two TDs?

Then things got weird.
What kind of Taste Team is this guy on, anyway?

Ask Roscoe: National Dog Day

Jan over at the Prytz Family says today is National Dog Day. Who am I to argue, and shouldn't every day be?
Let's Ask Roscoe what National Dog Day means to him.

"Frisbee? Where's the new Frisbee the one that lights up I saw it in the back seat of your car you know the back seat where I sit. How about them Sox. You wanna play Frisbee? I love you. "

The Village of Homewood, our FIB friends to the south, celebrated the Dog Days of Summer on August 16, the Sonic Drive-Ins in Texas celebrated last Saturday, and Orange County, CA has decided to give the hot dogs a break and celebrate on October 25.
We have something called Dogtoberfest here, and I hope to finally make it this year. I know Roscoe would love it. Karen. It gives dogs and beer a whole new meaning.
To help celebrate the day let's take a look at some of the noble pups in our lives.

Two of a kind (Roscoe and Bug as puppies)

Doing the Em Dance (YoJimbo's girls Emily and Abigail)

Miss Vickers would have been a great center fielder (Vixen)

Clara loves to be photographed (Jackie's Clara)

How European (Cash dining with friends on the square)

A rare (still) moment (Tammi's Chico and Rosita)

Before they were a power couple (Roscow and Miss Vickers)

Another one of our fallen comrades (Sam)

Who called this sweet baby "Cujo?" (Danie's Zander)

To all the mouth breathing, drool dripping, bug eating, butt sniffing dogs in our lives, here's hoping today and all the rest are even half of what you deserve.


Photo Credits: Em and Ab photo from Jimmy, Clara photo by Jackie, Chico and Rosita photo courtesy of Tammie, Sam photo from the Sam Collection

Fun Monday: Best Forgotten Facts

From Long Ago

I went to Catholic school, so unless Sherman and Peabody used the Wayback Machine to meet James Garfield, I wouldn't have gotten the lowdown on our twentieth president the way that Mindy over at Mama Drama did.

I was the youngest and therefore regarded as something which crawled out of my older sibling's butt.

I was the recipient of many useless pieces of misinformation; here are a few I'd like to forget.

˚I learned that if you swallow watermelon seeds, watermelon will sprout in your stomach.
˚You can always trust Shirley Valenza and Mary Torterisie to buy your candy over recess.
˚If you touch so much as a blade of grass on the Indian Mounds, tribal chiefs will rise from their graves and take revenge. They especially hate little blonde girls.
˚If you don't stand perfectly still while the Trigg's bassett hound is wilding about the neighborhood, it will bite you in the ass (that one is true).
˚Rebel, the wilding hound, had rabies, so said my sister who should know (I never questioned why she should know), and I was getting 8,000 shots in my stomach unless I died first, in which case they would still give all the shots to my corpse.

Biting little girls, simply outrageous, is it not Zander?
Indubitably, Roscoe, indubitably.

Rocky flickr photo courtesy of JBoone

Little Boxes

And speaking of Irish Fest (doesn't this banjo player from Monto look like Hugh Laurie?) I bought a bunch of candy at one of the shops there. And I should have been leery (O'Leary) when I heard the words "Irish candy" bandied about. Especially when the Irish Baker turned out to be a baked potato joint. Other than that, I saw mostly sweaters and beer.

But this, dear vendors, and my sister who knows her music but not her candy, is not Irish candy.

Normally I'd show you luscious bars with long, greedy bites taken out of them, but the Mars bar was one of the first to go. I have wrappers, plenty of wrappers.
Jim will tell you it's like our Milky Way and I'll add a 3 Musketeers and a Milkshake candy bar to that. Good stuff, I like my Mars bar served at room temperature.

Do we see any Celtic candy here? *What is that green bar? I think all of this is best kept an ocean away because I can't stop eating it. That Kit Kat Chunky in the red wrapper at the bottom of the frame, THAT is one helluva candy bar.
Wikipedia says it's a "single finger" bar known as a Big Kat over here, but I never had one until today. Is it possible I don't eat enough candy? Tell that to my blood sugar.
The Kit Kat Chunky improves upon the balance of chocolate and wafer with the wafers piled one on top of another. The chocolate actually spills over the edges.
Jim talked about the Peanut Butter version last February.

Never had these kind of Allsorts, but aren't all Allsorts pretty much the same? A variety of pasty, liquorice flavored candies in pink and white and yellow, with maybe some bead coated jelly monstrosity thrown in.

I'm glad the nephews are too grown up to steal my candy. Well I'll be Favred—just leave me a pack of Cadbury Buttons. (Can you guess what Chris is reading?)
*The green candy bar is a mint Nestlé Aero, thanks C.

Fun Monday: Roots

Irish Fest, Festa, and a bit of Yankee bashing got me thinking: Do we feel like Irishmen or Italians, Cheeseheads or plain ol' Amerikins?

I was talking to a Brit friend about Irish grandmothers, and when I asked her about being Irish in England, she was insulted and said that she was English (even though she's half Irish).
A lesson learned about how the melting pot melts.

My reaction to anti-American sentiment surprises me because I've felt disenfranchised since I was two (and my mass of curly hair became a sand and ant magnet).

Are we defined by nationality or region, looks, profession or lack thereof?
What defines you: Your job, your family, your desires, your roots—what?

If that's too much for a Fun Monday would you ever deny being Irish? To me it's unthinkable (although I was, if you recall, raised Italian).