Not a Queen Victoria Fanboy
Sep. 5th, 2024 10:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraI volunteered to distribute Dog Costume Contest posters for the upcoming Weekend of Wallkill (code name: WoW), so I spent a large portion of yesterday driving to vets & other pet-related biznesses in the villages of Walden, Pine Bush, Walker Valley, Montgomery, & Gardiner.
It was kinda like a scavenger hunt!
I saw many interesting things.
The most beautiful thing I saw was a white heron commuting from one pond to another. (Lousy shot—I couldn’t get too close to it without scaring it off):
The weirdest thing I saw was a chair on a kind of pedestal in the middle of nowhere:
Also, I now see where I went wrong in life. I failed to invest (and so missed the killing) in the burgeoning Doggy Depends market:
Iggy gave me some of the Chicken of the Woods mushrooms he’d foraged on one of his ATV treks through the wildlands in back of Albany Post Road (a/k/a the U.S. Capital of Alien Abduction), so in the evening, I cooked them into a risotto.
It’s been a while since I cooked risotto!
It turned out tasty but not creamy the way a good risotto should be, which could have been due to the fact that I didn’t have any white wine on hand to add to it or maybe because I had scaled down the recipe in my head—when I have previously made risotto, I’ve made it in large quantities, & scaling down a recipe actually requires more than just subdividing the ingredients.
Afterwards, I gabbed with him for about an hour.
I do like Iggy!
He is so incorrigibly & resolutely Iggy.
Like he was telling me about some woman he’d dated, some wild weekend he spent with her in Las Vegas, the prodigious amount of dope she’d smoked— (Cause & effect, boy, I thought. Cause & effect.) Iggy doesn’t do drugs or alcohol beyond the occasional line of blow.
“—and it made her ramble, you know? She’d keep telling me these involved stories about people I didn’t know and didn’t care about, so finally, I just told her, You know I don’t really care about your stories. I don’t know any of those people. And she completely shut down. The rest of the weekend was a disaster!”
Iggy really did not comprehend what was bad about this behavior! Evidently, he hadn’t read the fine print in the sexual contract.
“You should have closed your eyes and thought of England,” I said.
He frowned. “What?”
“Never mind,” I said.
Evidently, Iggy is not a Queen Victoria fanboy.
It was kinda like a scavenger hunt!
I saw many interesting things.
The most beautiful thing I saw was a white heron commuting from one pond to another. (Lousy shot—I couldn’t get too close to it without scaring it off):
The weirdest thing I saw was a chair on a kind of pedestal in the middle of nowhere:
Also, I now see where I went wrong in life. I failed to invest (and so missed the killing) in the burgeoning Doggy Depends market:
Iggy gave me some of the Chicken of the Woods mushrooms he’d foraged on one of his ATV treks through the wildlands in back of Albany Post Road (a/k/a the U.S. Capital of Alien Abduction), so in the evening, I cooked them into a risotto.
It’s been a while since I cooked risotto!
It turned out tasty but not creamy the way a good risotto should be, which could have been due to the fact that I didn’t have any white wine on hand to add to it or maybe because I had scaled down the recipe in my head—when I have previously made risotto, I’ve made it in large quantities, & scaling down a recipe actually requires more than just subdividing the ingredients.
Afterwards, I gabbed with him for about an hour.
I do like Iggy!
He is so incorrigibly & resolutely Iggy.
Like he was telling me about some woman he’d dated, some wild weekend he spent with her in Las Vegas, the prodigious amount of dope she’d smoked— (Cause & effect, boy, I thought. Cause & effect.) Iggy doesn’t do drugs or alcohol beyond the occasional line of blow.
“—and it made her ramble, you know? She’d keep telling me these involved stories about people I didn’t know and didn’t care about, so finally, I just told her, You know I don’t really care about your stories. I don’t know any of those people. And she completely shut down. The rest of the weekend was a disaster!”
Iggy really did not comprehend what was bad about this behavior! Evidently, he hadn’t read the fine print in the sexual contract.
“You should have closed your eyes and thought of England,” I said.
He frowned. “What?”
“Never mind,” I said.
Evidently, Iggy is not a Queen Victoria fanboy.
