Category Archives: Shaken and Stirred

Hail Gluttonious

When summer finally rolls around, Philadelphians divide into down-the-shaw people and up-the-mountains people. Me, I was a down-the-shaw people, and still am, only now, in south Florida, it’s a 12-month occupation. Come Memorial Day, south Jersey overflowed with weekenders and … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 7 Comments

What A Drug It Is Getting Old

Guido and I just don’t get sick very often. I suspect this is a matter of good fortune as much as lifestyle and diet. Neither one of us takes any medications, either, other than the occasional weekend gallon of tequila. … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 4 Comments

La Decoración

Out to dinner with friends at a venerable Mexican Ft Lauderdale institution. Need el baño. Push open the door and confront this mysterious device. Unless you’re blessed with a schlong the length of a gas pump hose, it’s mounted too … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 5 Comments

Scrip Joint

After postponing the inevitable, Guido sees her dermatologist about this vicious outbreak of itching eruptions she can’t vanquish. Doctor scrapes a few samples and writes two prescriptions, one for her scalp, other for the rest of her freckled epidermis. In … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 5 Comments

Letters of Nut

Gather ’round, Grandkids. And put down those Tide pods — they’re for dessert. Back before blogs, I regularly sent lots of cranky letters to people, some of whom actually answered. In rooting through old files the other say, I discovered … Continue reading

Posted in Gen. Snark, Maj. Snafu, Corp. Punishment, Shaken and Stirred | 9 Comments

Ears to the Beans

Guido is big on the new year tradition of making a pot of beans. This year she used black-eyed peas, simmered with carrots, celery, onions, and a ham hock. She also made a 17-bean soup, which she served with collards … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 7 Comments

Bank Shot

This plaque presides over the toilet in a bank’s rest room. It takes me many minutes – which I am doomed to spend anyway, thanks to a lethargic prostate gland slowed even further by the frigid room and my own … Continue reading

Posted in Shaken and Stirred | 6 Comments