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Why I oughta…

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240Give me some skin!


Another recipe from the family vault. I’m amazed to find someone write this recipe down, but it’s your gain or loss, whatever.

Think oysters on the half shell but without the oyster. Okay, this may be a little too gourmet for some of you, so bear with me.

To start, you’re going to need cooked rice. Combine the rice with water, Worcestershire, vinegar, sugar, ketchup 

(You know it’s high class when ketchup’s in the ingredients.)

and butter. 

(Because we all know bologna doesn’t contain the fat content we’re looking for.)

Heat all that crap up. (I should write a cookbook with descriptions like that.)

In the meantime heat up fat, yes I said it, FAT in a skillet. (I like it when they just call a spade a spade.)

Brown the bologna. Now you’re getting it. Bologna cups, half shells. 

Fill the bologna cup with rice, top with cheese, and broil.

There you have it. What I like to call – Country Folk Half Shells.

God, I thought fancy bologna was greatness when I was a kid.

Remember the Slinky? I still have one. After watching this video, I started having slinky nightmares. A slinky bigger than me comes slithering up, begins dancing to exotic music and the next think I know I’m being eaten by a human size slinky.

And this is the video that started it all. The psychedelic creature still trips me out. True confession time, I can’t stop watching it. It cracks me up and freaks me out at the same time!

I’m never going to play with my slinky again.

The colorful creation is the work of Ioan Veniamin Oprea. He has a website called, humanslinky.com.

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Look see, this is our beach. Don’t make me get the other bouncers. Cause Walrus baby, we will take you on.

What do you think happened? And no, you can’t say global warming.

How about a little fiction?

Inquisitions weren’t unheard of these days. But they were certainly rare enough. I never thought I might be involved in one of them.

How could everything have gone so wrong? Our first mission end not just in failure, but death. I glanced on either side of me and saw the worn tired faces of my team members, my younger sisters. Was it my imagination or did they look broken?

The empty seat of our necromancer, cousin Sarh, caught my eye.

I remembered when my Aunt and Uncle had realized their precious little darling was born to raise the dead. Sarh had barely been four. Her parents were hosting the mid-summers celebration. Everyone had been there. Imagine her parents’ shock when the family cat, dead two weeks came romping through the house. Their golden haired four year old following after. I was only six and still remembered my horror. I was always a little repulsed by her.

Nausea swept over me. How could I have ever been repulsed a girl, my cousin, my family?

“Why did you not call for assistance?” The voice of the inquisitor brought me back.

My hand trembled, my eyes stung. I blinked. I couldn’t cry during the inquisition. I would win their sympathy perhaps, but they would never let me off world again. Let alone lead my team.

“We have no elders. The rest of my family are younger than us, still in school. We couldn’t risk their lives. I wasn’t sure we would even make it.”

The old men magicked our family history. The shimmering outline of the text was in front of them.

“Surely there was someone,” the old man said, as he flipped through the text. “Ah, here.”

I closed my eyes and began silently counting. Trying not to remember the mid-summer’s celebration. My sisters’ and

I were hiding beneath the house.

One, two, three tables on the lawn.

Four, five, six, white table clothes fluttered in the summer breeze.

Seven, eight, nine a flash of light my Grandmother fell her eyes staring at nothing.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve the world stopped for a moment.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silence, nothing, it wasn’t real. a

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. A scream, tables overturning, everyone running.

Nineteen, twenty. My Father lay gasping in front of us.

That was the day that took the rest of our family.

And now Sarh.


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