Month: January 2017

So I have heard of this thing called the ‘British Burrito.’

Basically, you take a Yorkshire pudding, roll it flat, and then wrap the roast beef of Old England inside of it.  Gravy on the side.  …This is a cruel concept for anybody trying to watch his diet.  Which I am unfortunately finding it more and more necessary to do, these days.  Why could nobody have suggested that I learn to fry up a bread with meat fat when I was, say, 25?  I had the metabolism for such things back then!

[pause]

Sorry.

Moe Lane

PS: I probably will try the meatless pudding, at that (using butter for the fat). It seems reasonably easy enough to make, and I have all the ingredients close to hand. Flour, milk, eggs and butter, essentially.

In the e-Mail: Silver Stars.

Weird… I thought that I had mentioned this series by Michael Grant (first book: Front Lines). It and Silver Stars are set in an alternate timeline where the US Supreme Court had ruled in the 1930s that not only were women eligible for combat duties; they were subject to the draft.  And yes, let us dispose of something, right off the bat: the premise that the Depression-era Supreme Court would even contemplate such a thing blasts right past ‘absurd’ and goes right into ‘Have You Seen The Yellow Sign?’ levels of insanity. So noted.  It’s more or less fantasy, only without the elves and magic spells. Continue reading In the e-Mail: Silver Stars.

One hopes that the ‘Slice of Life’ people learned from Axanar’s mistake.

As in, making sure that the copyright holders of Blade Runner won’t mind them raising money to make a twenty-five minute Slice of Life movie. Let’s not have another Axanar, shall we? The last one caused a lot of hurt feelings, all around.

Continue reading One hopes that the ‘Slice of Life’ people learned from Axanar’s mistake.

So now my kids’ homework literally requires Thaumatology 101.

No, seriously.  Here’s the situation. My youngest gets sent home with a book each day to help with his reading; and yesterday’s book involved a bear who had a magic pot.  He’d say a phrase, get a pot full of maple syrup, then say another phrase (“Thank you, pot,” or something like that) and the pot would stop making syrup.  So the bear’s sister gets the pot, utters the first phrase, but doesn’t remember the second phrase. The pot overflows the town until the first bear can show up and turn off the flow. Continue reading So now my kids’ homework literally requires Thaumatology 101.