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If you ever can use this news? My apologies, that’s never been the intent.
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What… you thought they built those pyramids sober?
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I’d like to say this is a joke and laugh, but it’s true and not the least bit funny.
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I’m having visions of lobsters flitting to and to fro from plant to plant under the sea… and it’s quite delightful.
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No side effects from climate change my ass.
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At this point he’s got my vote, dude.
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Climate change. Pollution. Drought. Shrinking natural resources. Deforestation.
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Healthy living my ass. Keep your kale and quinoa, Keith will survive nuclear winter.
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Sigh. If only I had a few million to spare.
I actually have not so fond memories of this place. Oh, it was beautiful and swank… but it also happened to be the day I realized I’d become allergic to lobster. I ate it for lunch and by the time we stopped here with friends for a drink in the evening? I ordered a margarita, took one sip and spent half an hour in the ladies room throwing up. Good times.
Not.
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Say it isn’t so!
😫
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A flight we did at a veteran owned brewery called Stars and Stripes. Appropriate, no?
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Keith.
You know he’ll be here even after the cockroaches are extinct.
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I live in Maine, Land of Lobster. We catch it, we eat it, we export it, we celebrate it with festivals. Hell, we’ve built an entire tourist industry around it.
The one thing we don’t do with it? Relieve menstrual cramps.
Yet someone, somewhere thought they should.
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Meet the Menstruation Crustacean.
Jesus wept.
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Lobsters are a lot of things…. long lived, bottom dwelling, quick swimming, and delicious in drawn butter.
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But cuddly?
Cuddly doesn’t make the top ten.
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Yes, this lobster abomination can hold tampons in its claws.
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Something I have to admit I’ve never seen ours do.
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I went grocery shopping yesterday…. and while I usually just buy what I want regardless of the cost, gazing down at the pot roast in my hand made me audibly gasp.
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A quite small, unimpressive rump roast had a $36 price tag… and damned if I didn’t leave it right there.
May I just say, what the utter f*ck?
I paid $17 for a pound of 80/20 hamburger and almost fainted when I saw this…
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Yes, it’s a rib roast. But so small I doubt you’d get 4 good slices. And while I used to cook them quite often… if I’m paying $25 per plate? I’ll go out to a restaurant, let someone else cook it and be served thank you very much.
Beef prices are certifiably insane right now.
And if you think it’s any better in the seafood department, think again.
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Picked lobster meat is $53 a pound. Throw in a little mayonnaise and it’s $60.
And I live in Maine for Christ’s sake!
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In Maine, things can be a little different.
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But a definitely good kind of different.
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I lobbied hard for this cute little piggy joining the Casa River family ( for pure blog fodder alone, he’s golden ) but was met with a resounding no from the husband.
Sorry Wilbur.
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Mysteriously multiplying tin cows?
I really do love my town.
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I stumbled on a rather odd Facebook group page the other day.
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And while I doubt I’ll join, I can appreciate the sentiment.
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Red’s Eats is a Wiscasset landmark, a popular tourist destination and a long running bone of contention for anyone who has to drive through the area. Locals laugh at the outta staters who stand on line for an hour for what is seriously sub par seafood. (And trust me, they’re all outta staters… no self respecting Mainer would pay $38 for a lobster roll.) But the reason behind the page and its flamboyant parade of finger waves are the atrocious traffic jams this silly little take out trailer produces. A drive through town that should take 3 minutes? Will sometimes take you 30.
So without further ado… I bring you the only appropriate thing to do should you happen to drive past Red’s Eats.
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Look! They even have tee shirts.
🤣
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P.S…. if you visit Maine and decide you have to try this universally loathed establishment? Please unfriend me first.
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Remember when I damned my SIL for bringing lobster to our get together last weekend? And then mentioned the pain of seeing leftover lobsters I can’t eat in the refrigerator?
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Turns out that was nothing compared to watching my husband pick them….
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( On the barn porch because Dudley was going absolutely insane )
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And then cook them in my absolutely favorite way.
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Lightly sautéed in butter.
Honestly? I was almost suicidal.
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Monty Python fans rejoice! I’ve found us the perfect clock….
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I never really thought about this next one, but it’s true.
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If a lobster is red? It’s dead. But I guess it still beats a roadkill opossum.
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Oh no.
Hell no!
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Ya gotta love that pig’s confidence.
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Last weekend we invited the husband’s 4 sisters who live in Maine to a barbecue/pool tournament/behold the majesty of the Barn Mahal man cave/ party. It was a good time… except for one dastardly deed. You see one of his sisters brought this:
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After I specifically said we were grilling filet mignon… she had the audacity to contribute to the feast.
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A dozen lobsters, fresh from the ocean that morning. Damn her rotten black soul!
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I had to watch those succulent creatures being disbanded…
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Dropped in the pot…. ( Only 2 inches of water please. We steam, not boil )
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Covered with a lid ( And a brick. They tend to buck when dying. Hell, wouldn’t you? )
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Oh, the horror!
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The horror of watching everyone tuck into the delightful crustaceans I can no longer eat.
It was Hell. Pure, unadulterated Hell.
😫😫😫
The only pleasure I took was not being able to find our crackers and picks. Substitutions had to be made.
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Good thing the tool box was close by.
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The husband was schooled at the pool table by two of his sisters, which I thought was fitting punishment for consuming and enjoying lobster in front of his now allergic wife.
But once the party was over, the mess cleaned up and everyone went home… what was almost worse than watching everyone eat them?
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Seeing the two leftover red beauties every time I opened the fridge the next day and knowing I couldn’t make a lobster roll.
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Hell, I tell you.
It was Hell.
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It was a lovely drive along the coast…
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And though I would have loved to stop and snap some photos, the husband was hungry… so you’ll have to make do with a few quick shots from the car.
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Here’s the famous Cribstone Bridge.
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And as you’ve probably guessed, lobster reigns supreme.
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This was our destination, Cooks Lobster and Ale House.
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A local landmark built in 1955 on a long spit of land with panoramic water views. Popular with locals and tourists alike (although we locals don’t appreciate the tourist prices) it’s a no fuss, traditionally rustic waterfront restaurant.
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But what it lacks in decor? It makes up in scenic vistas. The view from our table was pretty sweet.
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The cocktails are potent.
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And two Cosmopolitans were all I could handle if I wanted to remain upright.
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Pardon the fuzzy pic, it was taken through a screen.
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The food is simple but delicious. Caesar salad (with the most amazing homemade herb butter croutons evah!) for me, a tasty French onion soup for my other half.
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Perfectly cooked lightly battered fried sea scallops for me….
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And lazy lobster for my rat bastard husband who ate it in front of me without feeling the least bit guilty. (I came up allergic 7 years ago and can no longer consume the delicious crustaceans without becoming seriously ill. 😩)
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Dessert? Of course it was blueberry pie. And as we waddled out to the car… we stopped for a moment to take in the beauty.
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And realized the husband might have backed up a bit too far upon arrival.
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Maine rocks. They’re unforgiving little devils.
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River's world..... 