Today we flew from Frankfurt to Miami on Lufthansa. That was preceded by a 12 hour flight from Bangkok to Germany ... also on Lufthansa. A German car took us to the airport.
When we arrived in Miami everyone spoke Spanish.
It is time to go to bed.
"Sounds like you need it, Alf. Try to write something a little more interesting ... how about some beach pictures!!!!"
I was all set to take my Nikon 'probe' to the beach ... you know, the one I bought in BKK; that I used for taking all those wonderfully exciting close-ups of The Peninsula.
However, the morning rain drove away the beach bunnies.
But, perhaps you would like to see what this 'probe' can do to a beach condo. These shots were taken from my dock.
I'll try for bunnies tomorrow.
Another rainy day ... no beach bunnies.
But, Watcharee's friend, "Kig" came by with her baby, Anthony.
Our first Thai dinner at 2514 ... during 2004.
Beach Bunnies! You want Beach Bunnies? We'll give you Beach Bunnies!!!
"Alf, but they are not from an especially good litter ... well, maybe one or two."
Our friend, Meg, has opened her sports store in a new location; Running Wild is now near where Sunrise Boulevard and US1 part direction.
Notice the photo of the Elbo Room on the wall.
Our two 'local' USA homes are only .9 of a mile apart; requiring one left turn, another left turn, one right turn and a final left turn to get from one to the other (reverse the turns and the sequence if going from the 'other' to the 'one').
Being a gadget freak, I bought a Magellan RoadMate 700TM ... [that's a GPS, by the way; the same one that Hertz uses] ... to make this journey easier.
PS: Three of the founding members of the Patpong Corkscrew Club are still staying at our 'other' house.
Amma, Ohmy and Gift (yesterday's girls) have these two friends at our 'other' place ...
My son, David, is back from Brazil ... but just for a short while ... he's heading back to his favorite country at about the same time that Watcharee and I will return to Bangkok.
By the way do any corkscrew addicts recognize this piece?
PS: Reader (addict) Bull writes his answer from Virginia ... [with respect to the strange instrument showcased in today's journal] ... which was probably prompted by my open question to the corkscrew world:
"By the way do any corkscrew addicts recognize this piece?"
It is a bull testicle remover. The testicle is first secured by mounting it with the clamping assembly. When the small lever on the right is pulled down the ears in the clamp grasp the scrotum. The two handles are then pulled toward the operator causing the testicle plunger to exert pressure and cleanly eject the testicle. The operator should wear safety glasses or, preferably, a face mask.
PPS: For foodies (from Mr. Bull):
Crabby Bull Balls
2 Lbs. Testicles (Bull or buffalo)
1 ounce Lemon Juice
Testicle Batter (a plain everyday flour/water/salt type of batter;)
Boil battered balls in oil. Serve with testicle sauce.
PPPS: Additional details from Virginia:
Ox / Bull
Reader Bull's 'guess' is correct! Well, at least it is correct for half of the functions that this little machine is 'up to'.
The Williams Sealing Corporation of Decatur, Illinois (*), USA built its Model 2 to serve two purposes: that which reader Bull so well described ... and ... when turned on its flip side and when the handle is pulled in the other direction ... for capping bottles.
(*) Cattle country around the start of the 1900's.
Last night we had dinner at Chima, the Brazilian churrasco style restaurant, that is just .4 of a mile from us (according to Magellan RoadMate 700). We were celebrating the 49th birthday of Rick ... he is married to Watcharee's best local Thai friend: p' Kig.
One girl works on keeping herself bare ... while another moves toward the ocean ... while others take to the skies. Just another lazy Friday afternoon at the Fort Lauderdale beach.
One girl waits impatiently for the beach shower to free-up ... while others enjoy the ambiance of the sand.
PS: Saturday afternoon is better at the beach ... better than most afternoons.
The beach, again: one girl in and out of the water ... and the girl with a pole in her ice chest.
This is a true story.
In 1969 when I moved to London (England), as a graduate student in law at The University of London, I met a couple who were about to have their first child. H***** and E****** became our good friends; he was a fellow law student at the LSE while she was ... an expectant mother.
Sometime during the school year she had her first baby. I think it was a boy ... but, that is just a 50/50 guess at this point ... 35 years have passed ... and we have not kept in contact ... so maybe, 'she' is now an accountant, or maybe 'he' is a ballet instructor. That's not the point ... what is interesting is what happened to its (his, her) 'initial' wrappings.
Anyway, shortly after their baby was born the parents had a dinner at their apartment ... located somewhere near the Angel tube stop station in Islington (an area of London that is more fashionable now than it was in the '60's). Whatever, we may or may not have been invited to the celebration meal ... anyway, for one reason or another my wife and I did not go to the table.
After the meal H & E announced to everyone that everyone had just dined on the placenta of their son or daughter.
It was a curious thing ... even for the late 60's London.
Last year one of my kids gave me a book about strange foods ... yes, called Strange Foods; and one of the recipes in the book is for Placenta Paté. I don't know if this is what H & E used when dishing up the kid's prenatal clothing ... but, maybe it was something like this.
"Foodies" on the whole were delighted at yesterday's recipe for womb grown paté. However, reader J. G. from San Luis Putosi, Mexico, writes:
"What I see is a bland piece of meat ... can't you spice it up?"
Yes, the world's hottest additive is now being offered to home kitchens ... however, it is only available by prescription in the USA. In Thailand it can be purchased over-the-counter; perhaps, this same easy point-of-sale arrangement also exists in Mexico. Or, your luck may have to rest with the Internet. (*)
(*) In your spam box check the subject line for: "HAABBBBBBEEEENERRRROOOOO ... HOT ... TIME ... FOR EX-PUSSY MEAT"
Next: Part II