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And if you can use it, I promise I won’t judge.
Much.
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Turns out 7 year old boys were right. No good can come from bathing.
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Eating roadkill? If you’re starving, sure. But I draw the line at smoking poo.
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Hmm. Sounds like that was some pretty potent shit he was smoking.
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That is just… wrong.
🤢
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If she was serving candy corn grilled cheese, it serves her right.
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Damn, Martha. At least make him take you out for a nice dinner first….
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Be warned Hallmark, your days are numbered.
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And the humble potato is hammering that final nail in your coffin.
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Nothing says I love you like a Happy Anniversary potato.
Please pass the butter.
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It’s that time of year…
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The short window between Halloween and Thanksgiving when that sickeningly sweet, multi colored, triangular abomination is everywhere. My mother used to have jars of it scattered around the house when I was growing up. Why? I don’t know… nobody who lived there ate it.
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Global distaste for the product is right up there with kale, and yet it persists.
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In all my years I’ve only met a few people who truly enjoy the stuff. Take a bow Mark, I’m talking about you and your Spam addled taste buds.
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Okay, I admit that last picture is kind of fun… but I’m still not eating it.
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Because we need all the smiles we can get these days.
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Thank you Canada. This was long overdue.
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It’s like they were peeping in my windows.
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These are the type of things I clip and save, smiling at the creativity. I think it goes without saying I’ll never actually do it myself.
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Maine?
They nailed it.
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Every time we stay in the White Mountains of New Hampshire we try to explore a new town. This trip it was Littleton….
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A charming place with a delightfully quirky downtown area.
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They’ve been voted Best American Main Street numerous times and once you stroll around… it’s easy to see why.
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Of course when you’re strolling with my husband that means ducking into every antique store you see.
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Clearly this fellow takes his wine selection seriously.
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But wait… what’s that on the floor in the back?
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Weeee! Another vintage alcohol related crate for my vinyl collection. I paid more for this one than any of the others, but we haggled 20% off and there’s no sales tax in New Hampshire so I’m calling it a win.
Husband doing the dishes in our resort condo as well? Score!!!
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Heading to the riverfront area we discovered a pedestrian covered bridge.
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Which afforded some great views..
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And that old red building with the waterwheel on the left?
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Turned out to be Schilling brewery which made yours truly very happy.
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They kept the feel of the old mill with a rustic interior…
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And served a fabulous wood fired artisan pizza with chicken, bacon, cheese, spinach, tart apples and maple syrup. Sound weird? Yes… but it was heavenly.
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As was their beer, which they take very seriously. The bartender was extremely knowledgeable and quizzed you before you chose. It wasn’t pass or fail, but it definitely resulted in him pouring you the perfect beer suited to your tastes.
My liquid ambrosia this visit? Schlaumeier – a Hefeweizen (wheat beer) with delicate notes of banana and clove. It sounds bizarre was positively grand.
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I love bread and have been known to devour my weight in it on more than one occasion, thankfully I never found Harrison Ford in the middle of a loaf.
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This begs the question why.
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As does this.
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A free vibration session in what looks like some very targeted areas. Hmm…
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This blew my mind. I know the Levi Strauss company has a denim museum with some very old pieces but these were bought by a private collector. Further research found they bore a label stating they were made with American labor, as opposed to the Chinese workers being used in the 1880’s. Either way, that’s a lot of cash for a pair of dirty jeans.
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Best. Recycled. Piano. Ever.
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Because regular news is so depressing these days.
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I heard the rat is now drinking Bud Light and filing for unemployment while living in his mother’s basement. His podcast is scheduled to go live next Saturday.
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Because everything needs an update, even Jesus.
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I’m on the fence with this one. Please try it for me and report back.
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Is it a shoe? Is it a bag? What’s going on here….
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Cheese in individual plastic wrappers is not cheese. It’s orange dyed rubber and should be banned from kitchens everywhere. Do yourself a favor and make your grilled sandwich from a nice Gruyère or Vermont cheddar. Your taste buds will thank me.
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Yes, it’s true. We took another mini trip and I’m about to flood you with more travel photos.
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This time we just jumped across the border and headed to the White Mountains of north western New Hampshire.
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It’s one of my favorite areas… filled with scenic beauty and wondrous natural places to explore.
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These photos are from the famous Kancamagus highway. A 30 odd mile stretch of road cut right through the mountains.
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In peak foliage season it’s divine and while we were two weeks late for that, there was still some residual color.
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Until you reached the top.
But back down the other side it brightened up again.
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The resort we chose this time around was literally right off this road at the end of the National Forest.
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And for us, you can’t get much better than that.
Since check in wasn’t until 4:00pm, we headed to Woodstock.
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A quaint New England village…
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With a big brewery/restaurant/inn.
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You knew that was coming, right? The autumn beer on the far right was my pick. A rich, creamy amber with notes of pumpkin and nutmeg. Perfect!
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And right above my head, teasing me with every glance? A vintage ale crate, damn it. The husband was determined to purchase it for me but the manager didn’t care how much beer we drank, the answer was always no.
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And though our lunches didn’t appear appetizing?
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They were both delicious. Baked haddock, garlic smashed red potatoes and squash for me. Charbroiled mushroom Swiss burger for the hubs.
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A good start to the vacation… except for this uber creepy spare parts facsimile of a doll hovering alongside the bar.
That is the stuff of nightmares.
😳
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I have a shelf full of cookbooks I never use. Some are low calorie, some are comfort food, some are Italian, some are French. None of them however, are from Sing Sing.
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With all due respect to Goose, I think I’ll pass.
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Do I need to play Bingo with various shaped feces?
I do not. Nope. Not ever.
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If someone gave me this? I would probably do just the opposite and lob it at their head.
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Now where was this when I was young? Talk about missed opportunities. Damn.
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And finally, something for Mark, aka Swinged Cat, aka Madtown Migrant, aka Mark My Words…. who, for some unfathomable reason likes to eat this canned abomination. Throw them with abandon my friend. Personally, I’d rather eat the dice.
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When the universe speaks, you have to listen. And the other day? It was screaming clams.
It started when the husband and I dropped by our local pub and had clam chowder for lunch. This was an oddity because they rarely make it.
The clam-athon continued when this story popped up in my news feed.
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I never even knew a purple pearl was possible.
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Good thing he didn’t trade them in on French onion soup. Offers have been made but the man is going to give the pearl to his daughter.
The third clammy thing that happened was a friend of ours showing up with a bucket. Her son had dug too many and she was willing to share. After a dinner of fried clams?
I heard about this:
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Yes, this time it’s real.
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Last year the crazy people behind Cards Against Humanity spoofed an old jar of Hellmans in a Black Friday ad campaign, but now? It really exists.
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You can’t say this company takes themselves too seriously.
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Or even the least bit seriously. Nope.
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I feel like I’m going to have buy a jar at some point, just because.
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#eatmyclam. Ya gotta love it.
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Get yours today.
Tell ‘em River sent you…
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River's world..... 