Teh Squeaky Wheel
Good morning, friends -- happy Thanksgiving.
Impossible to sleep with these winds -- no fires though and still have electricity.
Happy European Oppression / Indigene Food Colonization Day, Wheelizens!
Mornin’, Sven; sorry to read you’re unable to sleep.
Cute thread pic, Mac…and thank you so much for being our diligent Thread Lad day in and day out.
…no fires though and still have electricity.
Hope it stays that way at The Mountain Redoubt.
May all of you and yours have a lovely Thanksgiving; this site and its predecessors have certainly been a goodness in my life.
That’s it for power -- down and dark. Poof.
I am sorry to see that. Be careful, please. (and get out of California when you can)
You and Mrs. Sven are welcome to join us. Cocktails are at 2:00 and dinner at 4:00. Just let me know and we’ll set a couple of more places.
Sure Happy It’s Thanksgiving, Gerbil Nation!
Good morning, Sven-the-Powerless, Fatwa, and Mac!
Been up prepping the stuffing/dressing. 12 cups of veggies is a lot to finely chop! I already have my 32 cups of bread cubed and dried. Now I just need to saute the onions and celery and add them to the bread. I’ll add the chicken stock closer to cooking time. This year I’m going to spatchcock the turkey and cook it on the grill. Wish me luck!
Sven -- I’m sorry the Powers Bastards-that-be decided to cut your electricity. Hopefully that won’t put too much of a damper on your Thanksgiving.
Mac -- thanks for all your hard work behind the scenes, keeping Teh Wheel spinning.
Fatwa -- give your lovely bride a hug for me. Enjoy Teh Squash of Teh Gods.
Hey Happy Thanksgiving, GN!!!
I’m headed to sleep again. After doing a fear and loathing session at work: About 12 hours, mostly spent on the mail. It was a very wobbly paper, so it was kind of a nightmare. I had to try lots of approaches on the 40 year old machine to get any kind of progress. I even tried doing the labels manually for about a half hour just to see how long it would actually take.
Anyway, after trying the compressor, which is supposed to fluff the papers and make them feed better (it made no detectable difference), trying various configurations, I finally decided on putting the machine on automatic, so I could hold the papers with my fingers and ease them into the machine. That meant that I would need to fix all the errors after each conveyor belt full of labeled papers, I’m sure I missed some of the mistakes but I got most of them. It still took till the sun came up.
The Big Route is tomorrow night, that’ll be a breeze compared to what I had to do tonight.
I don’t think I’ll do any cooking, but who knows. Maybe I will. I’m not even sure I have any turkey in the freezer, but I do have everything else.
I think for thanksgiving, I’m just going to sleep.
Hey, Mac, Paddy and dv8 (and Harper!!1!)!
That sucks about your power; I, too, hope it doesn’t cause too much trouble re your Thanksgiving.
Bride duly hugged. Making Squash of teh Godz even as I type. (We’re having Thanksgiving tomorrow with FTR and her family, as Brenda and I again declined to spend today with people we don’t particularly like.)
Ghislaine Maxwell’s trial finally starting brought to mind some lyrics from Zappa’s “Brown Shoes Don’t Make It” (1967 and arguably the first “rock opera”…or at least “operetta”):
A world of secret hungersPerverting the men who make your lawsEvery desire is hidden awayIn a drawer in a deskBy a naugahyde chairOn a rug where they walk and droolPast the girls in the officeWe see in the back of the City Hall mindThe dream of a girl about thirteenOff with her clothes and into a bedWhere she tickles his fancy all night long
A world of secret hungers
Perverting the men who make your laws
Every desire is hidden away
In a drawer in a desk
By a naugahyde chair
On a rug where they walk and drool
Past the girls in the office
We see in the back of the City Hall mind
The dream of a girl about thirteen
Off with her clothes and into a bed
Where she tickles his fancy all night long
When you feel you are above the law, you’ve already declared that you are above the moral strictures of society -- and history has proved you right, more’s the pity.