Posting in all capital letters

[Dusty Road]

Will posting in all capital letters, eat up more bandwidth.

[NicknamedBob]

I knew that would get misread ...

tip·ple ¹ (tpl)

tr. & intr.v. tip·pled, tip·pling, tip·ples

To drink (alcoholic liquor) or engage in such drinking, especially habitually or to excess.

n.

Alcoholic liquor.

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[Perhaps back-formation from Middle English tipeler, bartender.]

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tippler n.

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tip·ple ² (tpl)

n.

1.

a. An apparatus for unloading freight cars by tipping them.

b. The place where this is done.

2. A place for screening coal and loading it into trucks or railroad cars.

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[From dialectal tipple, to overturn, frequentative of tip².]

My mother's conversations were always peppered with tipple as in the second definition.

I was talking about cow tippling. A different matter. (Don't forget to tip your waitress.)

[NicknamedBob]

Good Morning!

[Tax-chick]

Good morning, Bob! (Any anyone else around.)

Anoreth and I survived Girl Scoutery. Now I’m having some real coffee, ate a big of breakfast, and I’ll start making Vlad’s birthday cake in a little while.

Nobody fed the catz while I was gone. Wednesday is in a huff.

[sionnsar]

Good morning. Earthquake here this morning, but small — some callers to the radio program felt it, others didn’t. I was on the road so I didn’t.

[Tax-chick]

Nothing like a little seismic anomaly to keep you on your toes.

I had a couple of girls yakking a good part of the night, and one who was crying on and off. I’m looking forward to a nap with Wednesday, if I made enough progress on the cooking, followed by an early night.

[sionnsar]

This one wasn’t big enough for that. But it’s a slow news day.

[Tax-chick]

I have to get the food over to church for the homeless mission around 5:00, so I’ve got to get the pork roast in the oven as soon as Vlad’s cake is done! We don’t want his cake to taste like pork roast with orange juice and jalapenos!

[sionnsar]

And why not? *\;-)

[Monkey Face]

...Anoreth and I survived Girl Scoutery Sorcery...

There. I fixed it to read the way I saw it.

LOL!!!

[Monkey Face]

...Wednesday is in a huff...

Does she have a license to drive a Huff? Perhaps she would do better if she goes off on a Tangent...less strict laws for that one. ;o]

[Monkey Face]

I always put my pork roast in the crock pot. Less of a bother, and it doesn’t take the power that an oven does. Besides which, the meat falls apart!

My son dumps about a bottle of BBQ sauce on his pork roast...in the crock pot. And I get the pot liners to make clean-up easy.

[Monkey Face]

Hello!

[Professional Engineer]

"Moving Day approaches" ping.

So soon? Where has the year gone.

[Tax-chick]

Tom’s making a Beef Dish in the crockpot, for us to eat.

[Tax-chick]

She went under the bed.

[Monkey Face]

Ah!

OKden!

[Tax-chick]

We’re getting a bit of a jalapeno-fumes cloud. The roast had been soaking since Wednesday evening.

[Professional Engineer]

Perhaps she would do better if she goes off on a Tangent...less strict laws for that one. ;o]

Maybe, but getting too close to the Asymptote is still dicey.

[Tax-chick]

Catz can handle these things better than lesser beings.

[Monkey Face]

Yoiks!

I had a friend once upon a time, who had a little boy about two years old. Since the dad was of Mexican extraction, he loved to buy a small can of jalapenos and just eat them for a snack.

Needless to say, his son liked them too. But the heat from the peppers made the tyke cry. He would eat a pepper, cry, and reach for more while he smacked his lips! I used to really laugh at that!