I thought 'lives under the fridge' was one of the Five Basic Food Groups:
Guacamole
Italian
Chocolate
Casseroles
Lives under the fridge
Posted on 01/01/2012 8:10:22 AM PST by Gen.Blather
I met some illegal Mexicans last night at a party. Several years ago I stayed with a couple of wonderful Mexican families in the Baja below California. These were well-off people. The homes, on average were beautifully tiled and some of them had mahogany inlaid walls, bookshelves and cabinetry that would cost a hundred-thousand dollars here. So, I’m guessing if they aren’t rich they’re very comfortable. The elderly not as well-off grandfather, while living in Mexico was receiving Social Security from the United States and owned a rent-free apartment in California which he used as his address to receive several forms of assistance checks from Californian agencies. He visited the apartment once a week to re-arrange things and make it looked lived in. He had a car, a Toyota Corolla that looked quite nice and had working air-conditioning. I gathered it was supplied as some form of assistance and he generally left it in California at the apartment. The apartment was about 1100 square feet and very livable. The grandfather told me most of entire complex, easily a 1000 units, were like him, on Californian assistance, but actually living in Mexico.
At the party were a couple of teenage boys from this family. Very nice kids. I’d be proud to have them as my own; diligent, hard working, trouble-free and much more adult than you’d expect from that age. They told me that they’d decided to go to high school in California instead of Mexico. They said that the (California) government gave them an apartment and they travel back to Mexico on the weekends. (I don’t know if they’re staying alone or if a family member is staying with them, but if I had to guess, they came alone.)
When I posted information on this family last time, Freepers angrily asked why I hadn’t reported them. Firstly, I was a well-treated guest. Secondly, this must be obvious to the casual observer. Even if I knew who to report it to in California, which I don’t, it is obvious that this is how it’s done. These people are only taking advantage of “benefits” put there for them. Not to avail themselves of these benefits would be like deciding not to take candy freely offered to you.
Don’t wanna eat one of McCthlulu’s (sp?) appendages. I’m funny about eating anything that lives under the fridge. Call me crazy....
Aaaack! Do you telegraph punchline? Do you give away movie plots? And my Mom said *I* had a mean streak.
Drat!
punchline=punchlines
It ends?
On second thought, for the small charge of $29.95 plus shipping, I can mail you one of my tentacles when it falls off. No COD orders accepted.
I thought 'lives under the fridge' was one of the Five Basic Food Groups:
Guacamole
Italian
Chocolate
Casseroles
Lives under the fridge
I thought it was the 5 C’s:
Caffeine
Chocolate
Cholesterol
Carbohydrate
C12H22O11 (sugar?)
WARNING
Don’t use Spanish moss for bedding or packing without first treating it to kill tiny pests (especially red bugs or chiggers) that may be lurking within. Microwaving works well, as does heating or boiling in water. (Remove bats, lizards and snakes before microwaving.)
So now I’m supposed to be making guacamole out of Spanish moss and tentacles? I can’t even make it out of avocados w/o Chachi’s salsa.
May Klawwix the floating eye (having been given dramamine for his airsickness) and Xagthrath the grumbling rug have mercy on us!
P.S. Can somebody indicate if McCthlulu is spelled correctly?
Thx.
If you knew how many people I have dispatched fictionally, you'd already know about my mean streak.
Give away plots? No. They're too hard to come by. I'm willing to sell them, of course.
And telegraphing a punchline, no. Some things are, after all, sacred.
Of course the Undead Thread never ends. At least, not yet.
The original thread, started by no less a messenger from beyond than the fabled jjfate himself, had an addressing issue at the culmination of sixteen times sixteen times sixteen times sixteen.
That seems as though it should be a large number, but it's only sixty-five thousand five hundred and thirty-five.
So, anyway, when we saw that we were coming up on the end of the internet, we decided to move everything. By now it's old hat, but back in the halcyon days of the creation of Lake Fate, things were exciting, I can tell you!
But you go on and read it for yourself. It shouldn't take more than three years, since much of it has been redacted.
That's similar to being red-shifted, for those of you who follow the physics.
Read on. Let us know when you've caught up.
Of the Port Arthur-tentacled, Other-Worldly McCthlulus?
I’m happy that you’ve dispatched them fictionally and not literally! Love your posts.
Because I think they spell it with a 3. It's silent. But I think . . . no . . they definitely spell it with a 3.
bttt
People I’ve dispatched literally?
None to speak of.
“...Port Arthur-tentacled, Other-Worldly McCthlulus?” Please excuse—don’t attend to the social register, my being a sort of Eliza-Doolittle-derelict kind of creature. After all, I frightened the homeless when, in the ‘90’s, I visited San Francisco and bunked at the Y at the Infamous Tenderloin.
That was you? We shared a table at the Purple Onion. Remember when Dickie forget to words to "I Call the Wind Maria" and Tommy got so flustered started to stutter for real? The night we visited the plasma donor's center and got money for the matching "Born to Meander" tattoos is still a bit of a blur. Like the tattoo after all these years unfortunately. Sorry about the misspelling on yours.
Since the advent of spell-check, spelling is highly overrated anyway. Thanks for the input!
Isn’t the wind “Mariah?” It was the Purple Turtle in Phoenix, silly, not the Purple Onion. Who’s Tommy? My tattoo has no misspellings. Maybe yours is the one....
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