October 19th, 2005bits and pieces from my day
My dad is watching E-Ring. It’s a new Pentagon-based drama with Benjamin Bratt in it and my dad has never seen it.
Every time they mention a weapon or helicopter, my dad goes into an “Oooh,” and then I get to hear a short story about when he was in such and such and those helicopters (the Spector) saved his life. He’s saying, “It has a cannon on the back and it has a vulcan mounted on it and it can fire 100 rounds a second.”
He has this giddy grin on his face—he really needed to have boys. He needs a son, lol.
——————–
Earlier today we were heading to lunch and my mom mentioned that dad had bought me a toolbox. An actual toolbox, not the cardboard box I had been using… 😛
I was laughing, and he said, “Well now when people come over and need a hammer, you’ll be able to find it.”
I replied, “Oh well the hammer is right by my bed. Just in case, you know.”
And he rolled his eyes and said, “Oh I moved that and replaced it with a boot knife.”
Then I rolled my eyes.
“I also put one in the kitchen and in the living room.”
“Dad,” I said, “The hammer would’ve been fine. But anyway it’s a very safe area and I’m not concerned.”
He shook his head. “No, the knife. A hammer could be snatched and used to beat you with. It’s much harder to wrestle a sharp knife from your hand.”
It was about this time that he mentioned he had been planning our next vacation…
He wants us to go to a gun training camp in Nevada for a week, it’s called Frontsight. For firearms training.
He said, “I’m thinking it’s a Christmas present for everybody.”
—I couldn’t remember what the site was called, so I asked him. Then as we were talking about it and I was laughing, he said, “Hey, I thought everyone would appreciate it, but fine…”
To which I responded, “Dad, you’re just a blog posting a day, do you know that?”
He’s cracking up as I finish this. 🙂
—————–
We had lunch at a fabulous little Portuguese restaurant. They’ve never had Portuguese food, and the steak plate and the Shrimp Mozambique was a huge hit.
So were the homemade hot peppers and bread.
We got some of both to go, lol.
The coworker will be so pleased. 🙂
How do you home-make hot peppers.
I bet that’s a neat trick.
Comment by Grampa — October 19, 2005 @ 8:37 pm
It’s a Portuguese thing, but basically we think they take serrano or poblano peppers, marinate them in some sort of amazing spices and sear them on a grill.
They’re phenomenal and my dad is very picky about his peppers, being from Texas and all, but he loved these.
Comment by the insider — October 19, 2005 @ 8:41 pm
i made vegetarian lentil chili. mmmmm veggie chili. now all it needs is about a pound and half of ground chuck and perhaps some brisket.
Comment by wendykat — October 19, 2005 @ 9:39 pm
Shit wendy, my dad would love you, rotfl. He’d think you were his long lost other kid. 😛
Comment by the insider — October 19, 2005 @ 10:09 pm
meat chili, mmmmm.
Comment by grampa — October 20, 2005 @ 9:42 am
Yes, all you people and your meat.
Sigh.
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 10:40 am
I miss the portuguese steak 🙁
Comment by the guest — October 20, 2005 @ 11:22 am
mmmm meat.
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 11:34 am
take the above comment as you will.
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 11:35 am
We will.
Comment by Grampa — October 20, 2005 @ 12:03 pm
I already took it as.. um.
Never mind. 😛
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 12:46 pm
yea… i could say something about vegetarians who probably still like meat… wait i just did.
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 1:18 pm
Brat. 😛
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 1:36 pm
hehehe…
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 2:31 pm
Oh pfft…
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 2:45 pm
wow did you learn that comeback from harley?
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 3:21 pm
Actually catgirl, I learned the “pfft” from Anne. It’s French.
If it was from Harley, it would’ve been “Shut Up.”
So there. 😛
lol
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 3:32 pm
I get referenced??? Woot! Or something.
Comment by anne — October 20, 2005 @ 3:52 pm
shouldn’t it be like “le pffft”?
Comment by wendykat — October 20, 2005 @ 4:22 pm
Your Dad sounds a little scary insider, must be hard to introduce him to the boyfriends…
Comment by Le Will — October 20, 2005 @ 6:03 pm
Of course you do Anne. 🙂
Wendy.. pardon me, yes, it should. Like “le sigh.” 😉
Le Will… rotfl. You have no idea.
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 6:56 pm
I am sooo proud of you for taking them there! Too bad I’m away this week or your father and I would so get along. All the food, the hot peppers… heaven. Miss you insider and will see you soon! BTW, without you freaking out too much, he’s sending me away again. California Nov. 14 – 16. Sorry, love you. 🙂 Of course, this is in addition to NYC Nov. 1 – 3.
Comment by the coworker — October 20, 2005 @ 10:13 pm
I know he is… he told me all about it today. 😛
Phooey.
Comment by the insider — October 20, 2005 @ 10:20 pm
Wait.. Your Dad wants to go on a GUN TRAINING CAMP in Nevada, and finds insightful ways to justify keeping a knife and not a hammer next to the bed? The man’s a living legend!
Of course it’s quite possible these thoughts are borne from a woefully un-weaponed English public school education and a diet of Arnie films; but nonetheless I think there must be something universally appealing about (let’s say it again) a GUN TRAINING CAMP (awesome!). in the same way we all like big noise, light, and displays of power from fireworks, isn’t there a part of all of us that wants to let rip with some hardcore weaponry?
Comment by ed — October 21, 2005 @ 9:42 am
Ed: 😛 Oy. Are you my dad? Did he find my blog?!
LOL… he’s not English, he’s Texan.
Comment by the insider — October 22, 2005 @ 2:36 pm
Ah , but I’m English, and have big gun envy. Go Freud.
Comment by ed — October 22, 2005 @ 4:54 pm
Ah I see. LOL. Big gun envy, hmm?
You must be the son he never had. 😛
Comment by the insider — October 22, 2005 @ 6:15 pm
There was this guy see.
He wasn’t very bright and he reached his adult life without ever having learned “the facts”.
Somehow, it gets to be his wedding day.
While he is walking down the isle, his father tugs his sleeve and says,
“Son, when you get to the hotel room…Call me”
Hours later he gets to the hotel room with his beautiful blushing bride and he calls his father,
“Dad, we are the hotel, what do I do?”
“O.K. Son, listen up, take off your clothes and get in the bed, then she should take off her clothes and get in the bed, if not help her. Then either way, ah, call me”
A few moments later…
“Dad we took off our clothes and we are in the bed, what do I do?”
O.K. Son, listen up. Move real close to her and she should move real close to you, and then… Ah, call me.”
A few moments later…
“DAD! WE TOOK OFF OUR CLOTHES, GOT IN THE BED AND MOVED REAL CLOSE, WHAT DO I DO???”
“O.K. Son, Listen up, this is the most important part. Stick the long part of your body into the place where she goes to the bathroom.”
A few moments later…
“Dad, I’ve got my foot in the toilet, what do I do?”
Comment by Tywordwoseday — October 23, 2008 @ 12:20 pm
What the hell is this?! More spam?
Comment by The Sister — February 19, 2009 @ 1:59 am
More spam!!
Comment by The Sister — February 19, 2009 @ 2:00 am