Statistics are creeping along in the usual ugly manner. I’m almost to the halfway mark for this stupid, stupid mandatory class. We all know the only thing this class will help me with is calculating horse betting at the track. I have however, discovered a secret weapon, the lovely online video professor, young and blonde, with a soothing and encouraging manner. Much like a 1-900 operator. “Math is fun! We can do it together!” If I survive the class, I will be sending her flowers or sex toys, whichever will score me the highest grade. I’ll keep you posted. Her assistance has allowed me a few extra hours to peruse your blogs and craft a new shiny post this week.
One of the random things I have to do at Giant Engineering Company is to go for little meet and greets with the public to explain how civic improvements will improve their little slice of heaven. I was roped into attending on Wednesday night to give local residents an overview of a new sidewalk along a major roadway due to my mad people skills, got those little clients fooled now don’t I. I mean, of course, I can be professional at every turn with my control top pantyhose. The meeting followed the typical format where a few souls with a little too much time on their hands wander by for free cookies.
But one elderly gentlemen was bound and determined to convince us for almost an hour that providing safe pedestrian access along a busy street was a waste of his hard earned tax dollars and by golly he’d never even seen even so much as a streetwalker out there. We should have instituted a safe word like “Poughkeepsie” to make me stop arguing about improving life for the greater community. He did halt at calling me honey, but that was likely the murderous look in my eye that held him at bay. Instead I offered him a chair and a comment card which he filled up on both sides and asked for a second.
Killing time, I resorted to telling my cohorts stories about growing up in my house with my daddy Buzz. You remember Buzz, the man who painted one side of the house every summer and was happy on the year had the short side. We had one of those giant tan station wagons where the last row rode backwards. Those 3 kids always had a completely different vacation then the rest of us. I got smart and barfed first time out and always got to ride up front next to a window. I always knew I was destined as management material.
Once Buzz thought it would be great to get in touch with wild animals and took us to a faux safari park to see lions, tigers and giraffes from the easy convenience of your car. We were no dummies, we knew it meant he only had to pay for the admission for the car not individual hooligans. But………small problem with Old Tan, no air conditioning and it was August. And you couldn’t roll down the window for fear of getting eaten by said nature. For the love of God, we shrieked at the cars in front of us, stop taking f*cking polaroid pictures of the emus and drive. When we got through the exit gate, Buzz compensated by stopping at a gas station, hosing us off with a garden hose and buying us grape soda to defeat heat stroke. The old coot was completely entertained by my mad description of growing up with a mass of kids, took two cookies and toddled away.
The Big Tuna made dinner last weekend during a major math meltdown. Thank you baby!
1 onion chopped
2 cloves garlic minced
1 pound beef stew meat
1 pound pork chops cubed
1 teaspoons salt
1 small can tomato paste
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon paprika
1 red and 1 yellow pepper, sliced
½ white wine
½ cup sour cream
Sauté onion and garlic in butter in a large saucepan. Add beef and cook over medium heat until meat loses its pinkness. Add salt, tomato paste, bay leaf, peppers, paprika, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Add pork and cook for one hour. Add wine, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. You can add a bit of water throughout to keep from sticking. Stir in sour cream and heat throughout. Serve over egg noodles.
After eating my own fair share of chocolate cookies, I’d held off so I wouldn’t have the hill billy black tooth look, we started to pack it up for the night. But who should return to get the last word in, only my own personal elderly stalker. He’d discovered that people could use walkways just one road to the south, would I come for a drive with him so he could show me? Listen gramps, Buzz always warned me not to ride in cars with strange men. Sadly, I thought I said this only in my head, but apparently not. I wonder if this will show up on my next performance evaluation. I blame it on trying to determine if a set of numbers will follow the standard deviation or binomial probability rule, stupid statistics.