It’s not time yet. If you are a regular over here at this now irregular joint, you know that it is I who decides when you wear madras—if at all—during a particular season.
Madras…I’ve always been a huge fan of madras. And the madras pattern above looks vaguely similar to the madras sportcoat that The Charmer was wearing the night he got sideways with the slickety melange of hardwood floor and the groceries that M.M.’s date had just blown. Nothing worse than blowing groceries in front of everyone at the Country Club—except break dancing in it—in madras.
Composting…I’ve always been a huge fan of composting. Creating that black organic gold was an almost obsession of mine when I was married. I was crazy about composting. Composting and finding other ways to keep my a_s in the garden as long as possible. The longer the garden time, the less time I had to spend in the house with … plaintiff. I'm not bitter. Shut....
After seeing this vintage-ish cover, I had to buy the book. The Bettie Page of Composting? The Preppy Row Hoer? I’m just getting started. And she and I are probably gonna need showers. Lordy, after all of that composting.
Onward-ish.
ADG II
7 comments:
It seems to me that not only is madras the best camouflage for spewage, but that upchuck, properly applied, would give the madras a nice patina.
But that's just me.
That broad is ankles deep in the rotting melange...but I like the flower in her hair!
Sir Touch of Tone...Exactly...re the rotting melange. That's why I said there would be showers involved. We gotta get you tuned up re your reading comprehension, boy. Oh, and the flower...would last about eleven minutes amidst my composting sortie with Bettie. I'd gently flick it away "by accident" as I brushed the hair out of her face to "see your pretty eyes, baby". Why? Because the Flower in the Hair thing reminds me of those Polynesian theme nights at Reflections Lounge in the Holiday Inn at the corner of Palmetto and Dargan Streets in Florence, South Carolina. The Charmer was there most nights by the way. Most girls had big plastic ones in their hair and it still off-puts me. This predates the onslaught of other "big plastic things" that became part and parcel of the augmentation that these same girls displayed. Whew, I need a cig after writing all of this.
Fogey Young...It makes clear sense how you came to your observation. My jealousy of The Charmer is part of why I revel to this day in his misfortune. But let me tell you where your assumption goes a bit wobbly...most of the spew/groceries was just "beer/cocktail foam"...gastric juices. That's why M.M.'s date puked, literally, at the beginning of the party...she and M.M. had had no food to speak of and her first cocktail landed on nothing--belly content wise--and so she blew groceries.
BUT...BUT...there was just enough...perhaps lunchtime content remaining...that when The Charmer...red with immediate rage and ground-zero for the cascading wave of embarrassment that was washing over him...stood up...there were little chunks of diced ham looking skin tags, stuck to his madras sport coat. Mostly around the bottom and the hooked center vent...'cause after he tired of slip-slidin' in an effort to regain his balance--pre-landing...he kinda landed on his butt. Whew, I need yet another cig. And a big ole swig of Gatoraide. But only the original flavor--from back in the Stokley-VanCamp days.
my father always had a compost heap, and i can't wait to get one started at the new house.
xo
So, does the book consist of one page.
Step 1: Put stuff in a pile.
Step 2: Wait for pile to look like dirt.
Step 3: Done.
Plus, who gardens in a white shirt? Oy, you would think Rodale of all people would know better.
Plus, you have a typo. You wrote "showers". Should be singular. No use wasting perfectly good water on two seperate showers. Sharing is caring after all.
Wow! Who would of thought I would be in my 50's before I read my first compost post, always enlightening, really enjoyed the Bettie Page reference. On an unrelated topic isn't it about time for a spring GTH pants update?
Wow an entire book on composting...I thought even blondes like me could do it in their sleep.
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