Word of the Day

Paradox (n.), two physicians.

It's my Mother's Birthday today! Happy Birthday Mom! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday Dear Mom! Happy Birthday to You! I hope you have a Great Birthday!

HTP and I went out to eat last night. A local restaurant that specializes in Mexican food has a weekly senior night. You pay for one meal and the second meal is free. On top of that. Happy Hour! Woohoo! The only unfortunate thing? The only drawback besides all the calories? I am telling you that I've never seen so many old people in one place since I worked at a retirement home when I was going to college. Of course, that was a long time ago and I'm an old person now too. Anyway, HTP and I joined the crowds of people our own age and older with a very few toddlers to spice up the equation. There's alway going to be someone who forgets that Wednesday night is Kid Night, the night when kids eat for free. The restaurant was issuing those funny beeper thingies that look like you're holding a flying saucer when they go off. All those flashing lights and funny vibrations. By the time HTP and I got there, they had run out of the flying saucer beepers. We put our name in at the hostess desk and bellied up to the bar. The crowded, smoky bar. I'm amazed we found two stools together. Tuesday? Oh well. Happy Hour! We ordered our half-price margaritas (wonderful!) and gnoshed on chips and salsa. After the first bowl of chips disappeared and half of our margaritas, HTP went back to the hostess desk to check on the status of a table in the dining area. He was given a flying saucer beeper and he headed back to the bar. Progress. He got a couple of plates and brought me a plate of enchiladas (free). I'd finished off my first margarita and started on a second. We finished off another bowl of chips (great salsa) by the time our flying saucer started flashing. The aliens had landed. HTP settled up with the bartender and I headed for the hostess desk with our flying saucer beeper. I was asked if I wanted a senior menu or a regular menu. Our hostess must have been in training for the diplomatic corp. Hey! I'm serious! Anytime someone looks at me suspiciously when I ask for a senior menu or anyone cards me at a bar, these are the people we need as our future diplomats. We were directed to a booth overlooking the lake. More chips. More salsa. By the time we got our food, I was full. I ate a teeny taste of my rice, none of my refried beans, and one tortilla filled with chicken and shrimp fajita. I've now got a huge doggy bag filled with enough leftover fajita filling to feed HTP and me for supper tonight. It's sitting in the fridge. All I have to do is nuke it. MMMM. Fajitas.

Murphyism of the Day

Gabitol's Observation

The wise are pleased when they discover truth, fools when they discover falsehood.