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Saturday? I overslept!

December 29, 2007

Last Weekend Weasel of the year, and I nearly forgot. Okay, I did remember last night…but by that time, I was sprawled in front of a big fire with a glass of cava balanced on my stomach full of a boozy joie de vivre. Photoshop? I don’t think so…


Comment from Lokki
Time: December 29, 2007, 3:32 pm

Verse, the First:

with Nuthin’ to loose
snuggled down in the English Country Side


Comment from Dawn
Time: December 29, 2007, 4:03 pm

Lokki, when I read your lyrics my brain set them to the tune of “I am Woman”.

I got nuthin’

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 29, 2007, 4:33 pm

She has photo-shopped before,
But not shit-faced on the floor
Of an English mansion, Winter chill outside.

Comment from Lokki
Time: December 29, 2007, 4:59 pm

Uhm, Dawn – you couldn’t get much farther wrong, I’m kind of sorry to report –
Actually the tune in my head as I wrote that was a old Johnny Winter Song.

It had rained for 3 days straight
But the sun was beginning to shine
Two riders were approachin’
But they weren’t no friends of mine.

Called out for my Hanna
And I kept her close to my side
Whistled for old Thunder
And my horse, he was ready to ride

And ya know a man ain’t nothing without his gun

Hanna she was cryin’
But she wouldn’t let go of my leg
Thunder he was tired
And athinkin’ of a better day

Took to the road 6 night and days
Only then did we think it was safe
Heard the sound of 2 men approachin’
So I did not hesitate

And ya know a man ain’t nothing without his gun

Two shots fired and two figures fell
There was blood flowin’ over the ground
Two men dead in the noon day sun
And they never ever made a sound

Hanna she never forgave me
And I think I know the reason why
When I called out for Thunder
The horse he up and died.

And ya know a man ain’t nothing without his gun.”

Comment from Dawn
Time: December 29, 2007, 11:15 pm

I got the nuthin’ part right. 😉

Comment from Lokki
Time: December 30, 2007, 3:07 pm


At the Advice of the Surgeon General:
Those in a joyous and peacefully tranqualized Sunday Morning mood should skip this post.

Sorry for the knee-jerk reaction to “I am Woman” but that’s a song that I have hated (on several levels) for -wow!- more than 30 years now. Of all the mewling ‘proves-what-is says-is-bullshit-all-by-itself’ songs “I am Woman” has to top the list.

I have no problem with strong women; I enjoy women with opinions and a sense of self-assurance…. and I enjoy the companionship of a woman who will, when the mood strikes drink her scotch with just a drop of water, and smoke a cigar. I like women with ideas and a sense of humor, and above all women with courage. However, I want my women to be women. I like feminine and feminine doesn’t mean sissy; a good woman can help butcher a hog without losing her feminity. You can fuck Helen Reddy – but I never would.

If you want a good you-bet-your-ass-women-are-as-good-men-song give me “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better” from “Annie Get Your Gun”


Anything you can do,
I can do better.
I can do anything
Better than you.

No, you can’t.
Yes, I can. No, you can’t.
Yes, I can. No, you can’t.
Yes, I can,
Yes, I can!

Anything you can be
I can be greater.
Sooner or later,
I’m greater than you.

No, you’re not. Yes, I am.
No, you’re not. Yes, I am.
No, you’re NOT!. Yes, I am.
Yes, I am!

I can shoot a partridge
With a single cartridge.
I can get a sparrow
With a bow and arrow.
I can live on bread and cheese.
And only on that?
So can a rat!
Any note you can reach
I can go higher.
I can sing anything
Higher than you.
No, you can’t. (High)
Yes, I can. (Higher) No, you can’t. (Higher)
Yes, I can. (Higher) No, you can’t. (Higher)
Yes, I can. (Higher) No, you can’t. (Higher)
Yes, I can. (Higher) No, you can’t. (Higher)
Yes, I CAN! (Highest)

Anything you can buy
I can buy cheaper.
I can buy anything
Cheaper than you.

Fifty cents?
Forty cents! Thirty cents?
Twenty cents! No, you can’t!
Yes, I can,
Yes, I can!
Anything you can say
I can say softer.
I can say anything
Softer than you.
No, you can’t. (Softly)
Yes, I can. (Softer) No, you can’t. (Softer)
Yes, I can. (Softer) No, you can’t. (Softer)
Yes, I can. (Softer)
YES, I CAN! (Full volume)
I can drink my liquor
Faster than a flicker.
I can drink it quicker
And get even sicker!
I can open any safe.
Without bein’ caught?
That’s what I thought–
you crook!
Any note you can hold
I can hold longer.
I can hold any note
Longer than you.

No, you can’t.
Yes, I can No, you can’t.
Yes, I can No, you can’t.
Yes, I can
Yes, I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I No, you C-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-N’T–CA-A-A-A-N! (Cough, cough!)
Yes, you ca-a-a-an!

Anything you can wear
I can wear better.
In what you wear
I’d look better than you.
In my coat?
In your vest! In my shoes?
In your hat! No, you can’t!
Yes, I can
Yes, I CAN!
Anything you say
I can say faster.
I can say anything
Faster than you.
No, you can’t. (Fast)
Yes, I can. (Faster) No, you can’t. (Faster)
Yes, I can. (Faster) Noyoucan’t. (Faster)
YesIcan! (Fastest)
I can jump a hurdle.
I can wear a girdle.
I can knit a sweater.
I can fill it better!
I can do most anything!
Can you bake a pie? No.
Neither can I.
Anything you can sing
I can sing sweeter.
I can sing anything
Sweeter than you.
No, you can’t. (Sweetly)
Yes, I can. (Sweeter) No, you can’t. (Sweeter)
Yes, I can. (Sweeter) No, you can’t. (Sweeter)
Yes, I can. (Sweeter) No, you can’t, can’t, can’t (sweeter)
Yes, I can, can, can (Sugary)

Yes, I can! No, you can’t!


But I hate women who want to be men.

Here are the lyrics to “I Am Woman”

Compare and Contrast and tell me which woman you’d rather spend a weekend in bed with – or twenty-five years.

am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an’ pretend
’cause I’ve heard it all before
And I’ve been down there on the floor
No one’s ever gonna keep me down again

Oh yes I am wise
But it’s wisdom born of pain
Yes, I’ve paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman

You can bend but never break me
’cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
’cause you’ve deepened the conviction in my soul


I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my lovin’ arms across the land
But I’m still an embryo
With a long long way to go
Until I make my brother understand

Oh yes I am wise
But it’s wisdom born of pain
Yes, I’ve paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to I can face anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong

I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong
I am woman


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 30, 2007, 3:48 pm

Oh. OH! Annie Get Your Gun! You want rant? I’ll give you rant! I ain’t much of a feminist, folks, but seven year old weasel saw AGYG on the Disney Sunday movie or whatever the hell it was and nearly popped her spleen.

“Let me get this straight…” a white-hot angry mustelid sputtered, “she LET HIM WIN?!”

I never got over it…

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 30, 2007, 6:25 pm

OH! And while we’re in Battle of the Sexes territory…yesterday morning, I heard Uncle B give a horrified yelp from upstairs. “Weasel…I’ve done a terrible thing!”

Now, Uncle B’s proportionometer is kind of broken, so that could mean he tore a hole in a sock, or he singlehandedly crashed the mortgage market leading to worldwide recession and starvation in the streets. You never know.

But this time, it meant he’d reached for the radio and knocked my expensive Sonicaire toothbrush into the toilet.

At least I know he loves me more than he fears me, or he would’ve wiped it off and put it back on the shelf and never said a word.

Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: December 30, 2007, 7:10 pm

Damnit! I used to think those Sonicaires were all hype.

Never seen such a gleaming bowl..

Comment from Lokki
Time: December 31, 2007, 12:20 am

Hmmm Expensive Electronic hand-carried-all-the-way-from-another-country toothbrush in the toilet?

Oh Dear….

Lokki thinks: Well, maybe just this once, there’s an argument to be made for a legitimate use of:

I am pissed-off woman, hear me ROAR! Hopes store are open on New Year’s Eve to buy replacement head so Badger can enjoy New Year’s Kisses

Comment from porknbean
Time: December 31, 2007, 12:27 am

That’s what I was going to say…at least he told you.

Comment from Pupster
Time: December 31, 2007, 8:06 am

Wow, that story takes me back…I remember the first time I dropped Mrs. Pupster’s toothbrush in the toilet.


Good times. Good times.

Comment from Nosmo King
Time: December 31, 2007, 11:16 am

Well, since I am at the office today, I will put the time to good use, and relate one of the formative bathroom-related experiences of the Lokki marriage.

We had just married a month or so earlier, and were snuggled cozily into our tiny apartment above the drycleaners. Young lovers, we’d ‘slept’ oblivious to the (literal) typhoon that raged outside overnight. It being Sunday morning, we decided to have tea and bisquits in bed, and Mrs. Lokki, my princess, floated gracefully as a naked gazelle for the two steps from the bedroom to the kitchen to boil some water. I snuggled down into the blankets busying myself with the important duty of keeping the bed toasty warm.

Suddenly from the kitchen came the most horrible scream, I’d ever heard in my life! It literally made my blood run cold. I KNEW what had happened. Mrs. Lokki’s endearing traits include a bit of clumsiness when excited.
I realized that she had dropped the tea kettle and had splashed boiling water all over her ahem unclothed body!

I reacted more from instinct than thought. In a single stride, I was in the kitchen. I grabbed her trembling body and put her under my arm – my strength almost superhuman. Without hesitation, I threw her into the shower and turned on the cold water to stop the burning. God, it was horrible!

Except…. she wasn’t burned. At all. Anywhere. She stood in the ice cold shower and looked up at me in fear, awe, and shock. She had absolutely no idea in the world why I had done such a mad thing.

As I turned off the shower, and handed the perplexed girl a towel,I fortunately remembered that I had had a good reason for throwing her in the shower! She’d screamed!

Glancing carefully around for knives and other sharp objects, I asked her why she’d screamed, if she wasn’t burned. Words almost failed her, but in the end, only her English vocabulary. “ Tokage” she whimpered. “ Sinku ni Tokage imashita

Now, I could figure out “sink” but what the !@%#~!% was a Tokage? I strode to the kitchen still pumped with enough adrenalin to kill Godzilla if necessary. There in the sink I found the tiniest orange Salamander who was apparently as scared as the rest of us, judging from the way his little heart was beating through his chest. He’d found his way inout of the storm though the slightly open kitchen window and fallen in the sink – there to be discovered by the scared-of-lizards-of-all-varieties naked Mrs. Lokki who had screamed in surprise.

We are still working out the lessons of this incident, some 25 years later.

Comment from nbpundit
Time: December 31, 2007, 2:12 pm

Who the hell puts water in their scotch?
If so, it better damned well be branch water…heh

Oh. Uh, Happy New Year

Comment from Muslihoon
Time: December 31, 2007, 2:18 pm

Thank you, Lokki. I needed that.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 31, 2007, 4:37 pm

Who the hell puts water in their scotch?
If so, it better damned well be branch water…heh

Um…I do. Well, ice, actually. Then I let it melt a bit. I like spring water ice, but I take what I can get, as long as its not nasty hard water ice like in Phoenix, AZ. Christ, the water there sucked.

Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: December 31, 2007, 5:19 pm

Sounds like London water, McGoo. They say it’s purer than the bottled kind, but when you make a cup of tea, it has a surface film on it like pond scum.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 31, 2007, 5:30 pm

Thank you, Lokki. That was a heartwarming tale of love, nudity and spousal abuse. I’ll bet there is a little corner of Mrs Lokki’s mind that will forever believe you will soak her in icewater again if she startles you.

I put a cube of ice in my scotch, too. Sandy Claws brung me a bottle of Glenmorangie, this year — hurrah! I didn’t think he would, since I haven’t finished last year’s bottle.

Comment from nbpundit
Time: December 31, 2007, 5:46 pm

Single malt, such as Stoaty’s christmas gift stand
so very well alone, with finger nail screeching on
a black board I might allow a branch water ice cube
(no pond scum allowed).
Having a cup o tea in Londonstan should be a very
fleeting and infrequent thing.

Oh uh, and it’s LAPHROAIG

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 31, 2007, 5:57 pm

“…since I haven’t finished last year’s bottle.”

Well, obviously you’re not drinking enough. Ya see,

1 Fifth /= 1 year scotch supply. That’s just axiomatic.

There you have it: scientific proof.

You’ll just have to make an additional effort, M’lady.

Badger: no water supply should have a film on it or a distinctive smell – but I have run into that very thing before. More times than I care to count. But so far as I know I have never actually gotten sick from somewheres (heh) water supply.

Except Mexico water, of course. I could tell you a story, but you can no-doubt anticipate its major components, i.e. what Pepto Bismol is for.

Thought I was gonna die.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 31, 2007, 6:03 pm



*stars come out and twinkle*

Oh, wow……..

Laphroaig is the one substance…the one fluid….the single stand-alone Separator…that determines whether you are made of Stern Stuff…or just another alimentary canal.

People either love it or despise it to the ends of the earth. I do not believe there is a middle ground.

Oh. In the case of Laphroaig – one fifth can very well be a years supply.

Comment from Shuko
Time: December 31, 2007, 6:05 pm

Oh my god… Nosmo King, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all day, and that rivals even my coworker’s new hand-knitted sweater that his 12-year old daughter made him and he’d regrettably promised that he’d wear on his first day back to work. The thing was a VERY striking splash of haphazardly strewn rows of orange, purple, and electric green, and one of the arms was about four inches shorter than the other. It came to just above his waistline, and he kept pushing it down in an uncomfortable-looking sort of way. I think he was hoping that there wouldn’t be many people in today. Unfortunately, we’re all a bit behind, and there were quite a few gawkers today. I told him to tell his daughter that the sweater was lovely, and that she should look online for some new ideas, and then send a few more displays our way.

My coworker – with whom I’m on a rather familiar basis – gave me a provocative hand gesture and a half-hearted chuckle.

Even that isn’t as funny as Nosmo King’s tale, however. I’m going to have to take that one home to share with others. :p

By the way, am I correct in my inference that Nosmo King is Lokki in disguise? Or am I just missing something?

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 31, 2007, 6:09 pm

I have yet to brave the joys of Laphroaig, but everyone speaks of it in the same hushed tones. Like chewing peat, I gather.

Sometimes after Christmas here you can find a sweet deal on those little sampler bottles done up as gifts. It’s a good way to try a lot of whiskies with little financial risk. I’d hate to fork over for a big bottle of Laphroaig only to find I wouldn’t use it to daub knee wounds.

I have weak little tastebuds that jade quickly. So I only use single malt for the first jigger of an evening. After that, I switch to something cheap and vile…because I can no longer taste the difference anyhow. Which is how I squeeze a year out of a bottle — one jigger on special occasions. Like Fridays.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: December 31, 2007, 7:11 pm

Oh! Just on Fridays? Now I understand.

Yeah – buying a whole fifth of Laphroaig blindly is a risky venture.

I’d recommend you do as you say – get a sampler or two. Just don’t swear that its spoiled – or has been swapped out with cheap paint thinner – the first time you taste it: its not. That’s just the way Laphroaig is.

If Nosmo King is Lokki, then are Orsen Bugeigh and Oliver Closoff also He Who Is Known As Lokki?

Well don’t I feel like an idiot. Again.

Comment from nbpundit
Time: December 31, 2007, 7:20 pm

I am known for nursing a bottle meself Stoaty.

The other scrooged drink of this house is
Dry Sack…

Comment from Lokki
Time: December 31, 2007, 8:40 pm

Nosmo King is indeed a Nom de Blog for Lokki; it’s left over from a post I either wrote or was going to post in the ‘street signs for foreigners’ thread below, and apparently I’d forgotten to change back to Lokki. It’s an old joke that I think originated with a Brit Vaudeville actor. The joke – Nosmo King is really “No Smoking”…. A Lokki-like joke, No?

The story about that salamander is very, very true. I’m glad that it amuses… although I DO want to applaud the father who wore his daughter’s sweater to work. Well Done brave sir!

As for Whiskey – my personal consistent choice for the last year or so seems to be Glenfiddich Solara Reserve. Just a few drops of bottled spring water please, and no ice. My preference is to pour about 3 ounces into my silver christening cup and drink till I remember receiving the cup.

I can’t comment about Sherry…. I keep a bottle for friends, but it rarely comes out. Alone, we tend to reach for the Scotch and the Cognac respectively. Now to the main question:

What foods go best with a good glass of Sherry? That’s the real question! It’s all about something tasty to drink and something nice to nibble with it!

Comment from nbpundit
Time: December 31, 2007, 9:52 pm

Afterwards, Lokki, the roast beef with a rich
Yorkshire pudding and nicely steamed veggies…
sometimes a nice nighttime draft.
Can’t always do the hot milk thing you know…

Well except in summer time and having splurged
overwhelmingly on the sherry trifle….

Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: December 31, 2007, 10:14 pm

Lokki is absolutely correct, the man in question was a rather down at heel music hall comedian who, sitting in a railway carriage one night, saw the rune ‘No Somking’ on the window, decided to adopt it as his new name and thenceforth forged a useful career. I think I remember hearing him on the steam wireless, when I was a very young badger.

Must say, I’m rather amazed that anyone else has ever heard of him!

Oh.. and sherry? Vile stuff, in my opinion, but I gather nuts, biscuits, cheese are the usual complements.

Mouthwash would suit me better but chacun a son gout as the Frogs say!

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