Although, I am sorely tempted to have
"I Survived THE PLAGUE of 2014"
tee-shirts made for all of us this Christmas. What an absolute mess. Everyone slowly rejoining the holidays now; wondering where the hell the last couple of week went.
The Fudge has began. The above pictured made with a combination of milk chocolate morsels and peanut butter chips...then topped (after being poured) with Reese's (chopped) mini-cups. The fudge tastes like a giant Reese's cup with a creamier texture. In addition I'm making White Fudge with English walnuts. Idgy's Favourite. Dark Chocolate Fudge with Black Walnuts. My Favourite. And Pecan Turtle Fudge with Pecans and a layer of soft caramel. Everyone loves this!
The "drive-by fudgings" begin next week!
Excited! Our Middle son arriving this weekend...and EVERYONE together for a few hours. Which is right up there with my Jewish friends Miracle of the Oil. Seriously. And while I am thinking of Sal and Diane (yenta-in-training) and Vicki and Carol and Larry and Arlene
Presenting:
Marketing's Alternative to the Elf on a Shelf.
Or for the slightly more adventurous. Buy both. These two together spell trouble. But I think it is written in Hebrew...so Santa may cut you some slack.
The best laid plans non-withstanding...now I see up-to-the-wire Christmas shopping in my near future. Luckily, I did manage to get all the online and out of state done before being dropped by a microscopic virus.
I also managed to read one of Hunter S. Thompson's earlier works that I had somehow missed until now. Hell's Angels. A work done while the author was embedded with Sonny Barger and the Oakland Chapter's of The Hell's Angels in the late Sixties. The Angels. Part Man. Part Myth. Part Machine. The press creating an indelible image of chaos that even The Angels had a difficult time "living down to". As someone, who remembers vividly a mid-sixties rumble on Tweedy Blvd. in LA...my much older cousin [I believe she was actually suppose to be watching me at the time]. Teri and I bought tacos from a too close for comfort street vendor as her boyfriend (who would later become her husband) Paul fought beside the Gypsy Jokers. Of course- back then rumbles were settled with fists, chains and the very occasional zip gun (made from a car antenna and a .22 shell). Still scary as hell for a little kid. [me]
Today, you would doubtless be killed in crossfire.
Gangs these days play for keeps.
Excellent read.
A microcosm of that period of time in California.
And ending, interestingly enough, when his subjects end up turning on him and stomping him to the point he ended up in a California ER.
Dangerous Business...this author stuff.
So off for a bit to enjoy my family!
You know...those people who gave me the plague to begin with... [hey]
Wishing everyone the very best of Holidays.
No matter what you celebrate!
