There I was, sitting at my desk. The only light in the room came from the blinking neon sign outside and the occasional flash of lightning. That was fine by me, because it fit my mood, as did the glass of smoky single malt in front of me.
Then she walked in. Her hair shone like spun cotton candy. She had cherry lips and plump breasts. Half turning to close the door, I admired her prime rump and appreciated her succulent thighs wrapped in a tight skirt. Definitely not chicken legs.
Before she could speak, I said, "let's go sister, I'm hungry."
Before long we were sitting in a booth at Clancy's. I could tell she had something to say, but she kept quiet, waiting for the right moment. I like that in a dame. Finally, Clancy himself brought two drinks to the table. He knew what I liked. He brought her the same.
Her first words, "I thought you were hungry?"
Ok, so no chorus of Angel's from on high, just an ordinary voice. Still, I'd better take control of the situation. She'd come to me after all.
"I'll ask the questions, sweetheart."
She sipped her drink and looked at me over the rim of her glass with lidded eyes.
"First question," I began, "do you like Tzatziki?"
That took her by surprise. But it broke the ice, and before the end of the second drink, I knew her story. I also knew that I could help her.
St. Paddy's Day Toast - Bobo Blogger
Tzatziki - from Cathouse Chat
Quite Early One Morning, Greek Eggs.
Yogurt Cheese, from A Mentsh Trakht
Helen's Salsa - a nifty slideshow presentation.
Suddenly the door burst open and a guy ran in, yelling and waving his arms. There was something odd about him, and I finally figured out what it was: his words didn't match the movements of his mouth. With another wild yell, he rushed back outside just in time for a giant reptillian claw to come down and stomp him flat. I grabbed her arm and we hustled out onto the sidewalk, where I saw the monster topple a skyscraper. Damn, I liked the restaurant there too. When the lizard turned back our way, we joined the throng of people stampeding for safety as behind us, the giant monster destroyed the city.
Crab Cakes from Eat Your History.
Sante Fe Salmon from Boudicca's Voice
Inside Allan's Mind, Crab Imperial.
Lowering his binoculars, the General looked grim. "Poor bastards never stood a chance."
Nodding to his second-in-command, all eyes turned towards the skies as a flight of jet fighters peeled off into attack formation. The lead pilot squinted into his sights as he mentally calculated his escape route to avoid the monster's swishing tail. He was in a hurry to get home, because it was
sushi Mexican night at the chow hall.
Daily Pundit's Tacos al Pastor.
Enchilada Pie, from AZ Perspective and Junk
Rocket Jones's California Chili
"There they go, Sarge," sighed the Corporal wistfully. "That's the life for me. Lounge around until they need you, fly where they tell you to go. Drop a couple of bombs and head for home."
The gruff Sergeant looked over his platoon. He was rough on them, but he knew that it was the best way to keep them alive, to always be there watching over them.
Behind a pile of rubble, three soldiers were discussing mom's home cooking. The sarge listened for a moment as each described in loving detail his favorite homemade meal.
It was time. "Let's go, ladies," boomed the Sergeant as he stood up.
Bailey, the new Private, looked up in terror. "Sarge, I'm scared."
With a grim half-smile, the Sarge said "So am I, kid. Now, fix bayonets!" And he began his walk into battle, knowing that his platoon would be right behind him.
The Glittering Eye - Open Faced Moussaka
Shephard's Pie, from Aussie Wife.
Daly Thoughts - Brunswick Stew
Publius & Co. - Beer Can Chicken
As long as I stay moving and don't think too much, the Ninjas cannot harm me. Staying focused yet relaxed, my body continued to move in measured forms. Always just enough to make the throwing stars and flashing blades miss. Around me, the ground is littered with the remains of my enemies, and more than a few friends. I would mourn for them later, when there was time. Only then would honor allow for needs of the flesh.
Prochein Amy's Stuffed French Rolls
Leniwe Pierogi (lazy pierogi) - from bebere.com.
Egg Salad, from Booklore.
They fought hard even as they fell back, and we, sensing victory, pressed all the more. Eventually, only a small knot of warriors remained, exhausted but still defiant. Formed into a defensive circle around the Princess, the wizard pulled aside a slab of stone, grabbed her around the waist and jumped into the hole thus exposed. We quickly slaughtered the rest of the warriors before they could join him. No one was keen to follow the mage into those stygian depths, where the very bones of Mother Earth were visible. But the Princess depended on us.
Helen's Christmas Roast - a slideshow presentation.
Blog d'Elisson - Lil Pachterís Braised Brisket.
"What's that, boy? Timmy fell down a well?"
Triticale - Crockpot Breakfasts.
Let's Play Restaurant! with Single Boy's Breakfast.
Easy Egg Pie, from Punctilious.
Fine. You take the remote.
A quick note about my blog name. Jones isn't my last name, but one of my hobbies and passions is rockets. I am, literally, jonesing for rockets. The kids and I build and fly model and high power rockets, hence the name. Check out the sidebar for links to online resources and rocketry vendors, and my rocket-related category archives are here and here.
And for those not into rockets (although I can't possibly imagine why not), have a look through the Rocket Jones Cult Flicks archives and be prepared for all kinds of cheesy cinema wonderfulness.Posted by Ted at March 4, 2005 05:24 AM | TrackBack