The Isolated Blurt Thread XXXVII: You're Welcome, Fuckers

Saturday evening I attended my 55th high school reunion. Class of ‘69. We had 89 people in our class. About 20 showed up for a very nice evening of drinking, eating and talking… lots of talking. With such a small turnout it was easier to catch up with classmates than at our 50th, which had a much larger number of attendees.

Sadly, of the original group, 31 have died; 15 men and 16 women. I like to think that shows what a well-balanced class we had even though some of us are considered a tad unbalanced (myself included).

I try not to look too far into the future but I’m hoping that the class officers still standing plan what I think would be a very appropriate 69th reunion. I’m picturing all the walkers we’ll be using lined up along the entryway.
 
It’s 4.30 in the morning and all I can think about is prawns. With the butter and garlic and the lemon juice and the parsley. And fresh pasta. With tomatoes. *cries*

I’m going to make it this afternoon.
 
I just stopped at the fancy grocery to get the good French butter that I dream about sometimes. I’m in the mood for delicious butter and garden-fresh veggies.
 
It’s 4.30 in the morning and all I can think about is prawns. With the butter and garlic and the lemon juice and the parsley. And fresh pasta. With tomatoes. *cries*

I’m going to make it this afternoon.
The best prawns I can get ahold of, in my very land locked state, are at the Asian market. They are fat, plump, juicy and head on! They also sell them for $3.99 a pound. No better deal, this side of the Mason Dixon. I buy pounds and pounds when I'm cooking them. Some, I leave the heads, and some I leave the shells. Mostly, I shell and Sautee in copious amounts of butter, garlic, white wine and lemon juice. I can eat 30 or 40 giant prawns, in one sitting. Sweet, poppy, delicious!

I enjoy them too, if you couldn't tell.

Now I want those instead of goulash... or as the wife says, "Gooolash".. She still has a bit of her Wisconsin accent..
 
I just stopped at the fancy grocery to get the good French butter that I dream about sometimes. I’m in the mood for delicious butter and garden-fresh veggies.
I just found some Plugra butter... At Walmart of all places! Haven't opened it yet, but I may tonight.
 
Hey Jutt, you drive one of those trucks with the rail wheels? Are they hard to line up when lowering?
 
Played some mini golf with my son (13) and my nephew ( 6) and best them fairly handledly.

Walked with my head held high
 
so Digit was a week old yesterday, and his mama decided it was time to bring him downstairs to be in a more social environment... carried him down and parked him under H's desk :D Maybe she wanted a babysitter.

I cleared out the shelf area below the glass-topped coffee table in the corner of the room, laid cloth in there so he could move around instead of sliding, covered the top and most of the two exposed sides with a blanket and that's their new abode. He's a proper little barrel now and has a LOUD mouth on him.

aw.

P.S H said Hello to everyone and letting you know his regular pc's fritzed and so hasn't been on here much though he can use this one when he wants. He's busy killing things and saving the world at the moment on his gaming pc.
 
Hey Jutt, you drive one of those trucks with the rail wheels? Are they hard to line up when lowering?
I don't, but when I started my career, I was with the guys who did. Back then, they were kind of a bitch. Giant crew trucks with no power steering and a manual. We always had to spot for the truck driver. It would be frustratingly hard for me to do, but the guys who do, get the hang of it pretty quick. I've seen giant crane trucks whip that thing into alignment in one or two moves. All that on a little two lane road. As far as I know, they need a crossing with crossing pads in the tracks to set on.
 
Am I just learning this now? Or did I know before?

Sometimes, negative energy can suck your memory. You forget to tell yourself how well you’re doing. People can tell you every day that you’re doing a great job, and you don’t feel it or get it, because the negativity sucked it all away. Negative cunts.
 
Someone asked on the twat why Australians are so good at swimming and mate…

I honestly have no idea why. We just are.

I always assumed it was because most of your major cities are on the ocean.

🤔

I have to imagine that regularly swimming in the ocean at a young age would set someone up to be a hell of a swimmer later in life - if you survive.

😳
 
I always assumed it was because most of your major cities are on the ocean.

🤔

I have to imagine that regularly swimming in the ocean at a young age would set someone up to be a hell of a swimmer later in life - if you survive.

😳

We like the water. Sharks and jellyfish and tiny microbial death dealers are universally respected because we know we are entering THEIR domain. We don’t kill them out of fear. Unlike those POME cunts who like to come down here and try to take over. Or the French who like to drop nuclear bombs on our islands and then do the Rainbow Warrior terrorist attacks and kill people and then fuck off back to Paris.

We swim because we love it. If Gary the Great White wants to take one of our legs we understand, he’s just hungry. What are these other cunts?
 
And if we’re going to plop Australia on a map with water how bout we plop the USA on the map with water. It’s pretty much the same size. Same fucking island. Just a lot more people over there.
 
I always assumed it was because most of your major cities are on the ocean.

🤔

I have to imagine that regularly swimming in the ocean at a young age would set someone up to be a hell of a swimmer later in life - if you survive.

😳
To be fair though. I’ve had a lot more swimming experience than your average bear.

I learnt to dive on Waiheke Island in New Zealand. Snorkel and mask and diving gear when I was maybe 8 years old. Before then I had swimming lessons in the pools. And I have a big family who race towards wooden rafts in the middle of the ocean through deadly currents. Sea animals were our friends encouraging us to swim faster. The crabs pinching our toes and making us bleed spurred us on to greater things.

And I think about Steve Irwin and his love for the ocean and all the creatures. And he wouldn’t have been mad at all. He probably would’ve thought to himself, what a beautiful way to go.
 
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