Lisa Hendrix

Never say never, but really…

On Sunday morning, 17 called and asked if he could have some friends over for a last-minute SuperBowl party.  Now this surprised me, because he’s a theater kid and neither he, nor his girlfriend,  nor his theater friends have ever demonstrated any interest in football.  But we said yes, told him to tell his friends to bring the junk food, and set about tidying up the house to make it presentable,  and then I went to fetch a variety of pop and a couple of bags of ice while my dh started making a big pot of chili.

Shortly after the kids arrived, it was clear they did, indeed, have no interest in football, as they brought a Wii and all its accoutrements. By then, the chili  had been brought up to temp and dumped into the crockpot, and dh asked me to taste it for spices.

I did, and almost barfed. Seems one of the packages of ground meat had gone bad.  Way bad. Ugh. Pot of chili ruined.

Love of my life got rid of the nasty chili while I went into the pantry to dig through the cabinets for ingredients for a new pot (For speed, I used a base of canned chili, jazzed up with fancy beans, Ortegas, etc.)

As the new chili bubbled, I slipped off to the john.  It smelled of chili in there, which I chalked up to my husband dumping the first batch down the toilet.

A bit later, however, hubby went in there and promptly stepped in water—overflow, it turned out, from the shower, which had backed up. Turns out that was the smell I smelled, because hubby, bless his heart, hadn’t flushed the chili, but had run it down the disposal.  The whole 6 quarts of it. Clearly too much for the rather finicky pipes of our nearly 50 year old house.

Off to Safeway for Liquid Plumbr.  Let sit.  Nothing.  More LP, more sitting, more nothing.  Much use of plunger (including imprint of hollow handle-top on my palm). Nothing.

Next morning, one more large bottle LP, couple of hours of sitting, more plunger. Nothing.

So, a call was made to the plumbing service  The same plumbing service that was out a few months ago when our incoming water line failed.  Now, to their credit,  they were here within a couple of hours both times, and to their further credit, the receptionist/scheduler didn’t even laugh when I suggested that I was due a freebie.  They just showed up, fixed the problem, and handed me a bill.

So I added it up.  Plumber + ingredients of first batch of chili + ingredients of second batch of chili + multiple bottles of totally and utterly ineffective Liquid Plumbr = $117

All for one pot of chili.

How about you? What’s your most expensive meal disaster?

I have copy edits on IMMORTAL OUTLAW coming the first week in January. Those are the ones where you and the copy editor (not your “editor” at most houses, but a grammar-freak-with-a-red-pencil-for-hire) clean up your commas, fix mis-usages, find those dropped periods, and catch all your typos.

You hope.

I ran into this video from slam poet/comedian/teacher Taylor Mali over on Writers Technology Companion Today that is so funny–and so totally apropos–I had to post it.  (Warning: NOT Safe For Work, unless you have on headphones)

It’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day and  I’m practicing the pirate lingo I learned at the Official ITLAP Website, including the pick-up lines for Lady Pirates (my personal favorite: That’s quite a cutlass ye got thar, what ye need is a good scabbard!)

If you don’t have time to learn Pirate, try their English to Pirate translator.

To the left, the original Lady Pirate, Anne Bonney.

P.S. — Vikings are pirates, too, you know.  So I suppose “Pass the lutefisk” is also Pirate Lingo…

Michael Palin, that is…

Via Red State Rebels

…apparently involves including a screenshot with an inane comment of my husband’s.  Yep another one, this time on Syrinx from MRR Software (link on the image).  That’s him, third one down (second human).

If you can’t read it, it says:

Considering ingredient list for pizza and wondering if I should make enough for the boy that isn’t home yet.

Deep.

Yes, he cooks, Actually makes pizza dough from scratch…part of the reason I love him.

Raisin Brahms!

Enjoy!

via Boing-Boing

My friend and one-time critique partner, R. Scott Shanks, Jr., has been having some frustrations getting his website up and running, so he decided to post to his blog, instead.  Click the link. Read. Enjoy. Remember that he wrote the following in a timespan of approximately 17 minutes, and know that he is a far better writer than I—than almost anyone—and some agent should make a fortune off him when he finishes his book. 

( In an effort to distance myself from my ire, I pulled out the Majency Oracle and asked Shannon for a number. She quoth: 72, so that was the card I selected as a writing prompt. Thus: )

King Ozymandias of Assyria was running low on cash after years of war with the Hittites. His last great possession was the Star of the Euphrates, the most valuable diamond in the ancient world. Desperate, he went to Croesus, the pawnbroker, to ask for a loan. Croesus said, “I’ll give you 100,000 dinars for it.” But I paid a million dinars for it,” the King protested. “Don’t you know who I am? I am the king!” Croesus replied, “When you wish to pawn a Star, makes no difference who you are.”

—-

Okay, my secret is out.  I like puns. If you do, too, please share your favorite in Comments.  I would love to start a collection.  Shaggy Dog stories are good, too!

If you don’t have a good one, check out  R U SERIOUS for more groaners.

Enjoy,

PS:  Per Wikipedia, paronomasia is “a phrase that deliberately exploits confusion between similar-sounding words for humorous or rhetorical effect.”  In other words, a pun.  See, you can groan and learn at the same time.

Is something in the air?  Discussions of romance book covers are suddenly all over the web.

First I popped into DearAuthor and found Cover Identification, Susan Holloway Scott’s well-illustrated overview of romance covers from the various publishers. (Lovely cover, btw, Susan.)

Then I ran into a post at Word Wenches titled Cover Conspiracy, which responds to an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about how romance covers “say women are dumb” (the PI’s words, not mine or the Wenches!). 

And then I opened a Barnes and Noble email expecting an e-coupon and discovered instead an announcement of a new feature series at B&N.com called “Cover Story” which features the artists/art directors who are responsible for book covers (coming soon — a romance cover designer by the name of Judy York).  

All of which demonstrates how ideas propagate through by some mysterious means—which is why an editor will suddenly get five stories about singing swords and pregnant window-washers in one month (no, no one ’stole’ your idea).

And which also reminds me of the wonderful World of Longmire romance cover spoofs, which I didn’t discover today, but which still make me snort most unattractively.