Tag Archive: peanut butter


Just In

google-glass-banI have just read an article on The Guardian about these infernal Google Glasses. It begs the question will you be wearing them…

Not bloody likely!

Furthermore, I wouldn’t even talk to you if you had them on! And, I’d walk out of any establishment that had somebody wearing them!

I will support any establishment that bans them.

Mind you, we’re not likely to see them in Brazil for sometime.

Google Asses…

In the article it tells of a woman in a supermarket getting information while browsing for ingredients. What’s Google going to do with that information? Bombard me with ads for baking soda? No thanks!

This was not my planned opening for today’s post, that’ll have to wait for another time when I have cooled down.

WordPress has done it again. I went to load up the image above, and I got presented with a ‘blue screen’ – drag or drop your images here. I have artfully avoided WPs drag and drop feature until now, now I am forced to use it. What’s worse is, I had to figure out how to use it… No bloody instructions! No bloody warning! Just wham, bam, thank you Ma’am!

Bright sunny day outside, not too hot, pleasant beer drinking weather.

Yesterday’s fish-something lunch went well. Fried sole fillets with a great lettuce salad eaten at a table from the bar in the praça under the shade of a tree in front of my house. Of course, beer was readily available. I saved the guava juice for evening.

No sooner than I had finished and was gazing across the praça at nothing in particular, my neighbours set up the bar BBQ. I was invited to pull my table across and join the party. It would have been churlish of me not to accept. So the afternoon turned to more food, more beer and pleasant conversation.

Conversation went something like this

Their kids played around, pushing the baby around in her ‘motorcycle’ pushchair and playing on their tablets while the adults conversed and danced to the music. I asked the seven-year-old absorbed in a game on the tablet if she like boys…

Nope, just my tablet.

End of conversation.

I put my nose back in my beer having been trounced by a seven-year -old.

The drinking had to end. I had a student coming at 4pm for his first English lesson, so I switched to fizzy mineral water and lemon.

The good news is, I am invited to do it again next Saturday.

Middle East countries like UAE, Qatar, etc love their torture of foreigners then getting to sign confessions in Arabic, a language which most foreigners have no idea. In my opinion, I would never think of traveling to any country that had a reputation for this. Risk a long jail sentence or worse, death because I signed a confession I couldn’t read. Bugger the Bahrain F1.

There is a bit of a kerfuffle in England at the moment about a member of parliament who claimed too much in expenses and paid the mortgage on a house with it.  Not much, about £90,000, she was ordered to repay £45,000. Bugger that, repay the whole damned lot! And then kick her out of parliament for life! If an MP can shit in their own nest once, they’ll do it again. They aren’t fit to warm their derriere on a government seat at the expense of the people.

Now I would like you to consider a really important fact. This has not been covered in the mainstream media, like so many other facts that determine our lives.

Please give this your full attention…

peanutbutterconsumption

Later, it’s beer o’clock, and I hope my shorts are dry on the line.

 

I think I was bitch slapped

Yes, I think I was…

Left a horrid taste in my mouth, rather like one would imagine a peanut butter smoothie.

In fact, that’s what started it. A peanut butter smoothie.

This is not the offending image, and I apologise to the owner for dragging him into the fray, but I needed an image that was, shall we say, ‘impartial.’

The ‘slapper’ definitely has NFSH (No Freakin’ Sense of Humour, military acronym, used to describe warrant officers – master sergeants to you Americans).

It all started when I saw a tweet. about a peanut butter smoothie. Now being a chef, peanut butter does not belong in the kitchen; it belongs in school lunch tins and maybe on toast in the morning. I cannot see that anything that sticks to the roof of ones mouth has a place in cuisine.

I commented, in what I thought to be a tongue-in-cheek manner, that the idea seemed horrid.

I was expecting a reply along the lines of, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!”

But, I got something quite different. I then checked the blog and saw an imagine akin to what I had imagined and reaffirmed my thought.

It was the other way round, but this image was soooo cute

That was when I got bitch slapped. “no one asked you to drink it….. and do you always make a habit of sending mildly rude tweets?” I never make ‘mildly’ rude comments, it had all been taken out of context. In a later comment, I was accused of saying that ‘the post’ was horrid; I never said any such thing, my comment was reserved to my perceived taste of the smoothie. Maybe the misunderstanding was that we were speaking two different languages, one in English and the other in American.

I have a sense of humour, it has stood me in good stead for 60 years and never been so sadly misinterpreted before.

Anyway, I apologised and suggested we take it no further; and guess what? The ‘slapper’ unfollowed me, how freakin’ petty minded can you get? <—– rhetorical question.

I still have a bad taste in my mouth about the affair, and I never even got to try the smoothie.

Bitch slapping bruises the ego.

I have, in my eight years blogging, had only one person stop following one of my blogs, but that was because of a difference in ideologies. I believed that the USA was on track to becoming a Spanish speaking third world country, he being an American was still immersed in the American Dream.

Apart from that my relations on the net have been amiable, so I am wounded.

Hence, there was no Travel Tales yesterday, because that all happened right at the moment I was going to organise the post and it all put me out of sorts.

BTW, I have changed my idea about the future of America, George Orwell was right after all.

Having got that off my chest, I will return to blogging normally and my coffee.

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