Picture Sunday

Hello to all my tens of readers out there. This weekend was jam-packed for me, and it went way too quickly.

We all know about Friday, well we do if we read below, then Saturday it was up early to get to B'burg in time for a Sauerkraut Band benefit concert at Wheatland Hills Retirement home. We played a few songs and met a lot of really nice people, some of whom were friends to Mr M himself. Marvin, Vance, Winston, and Virginia were all total sweeties.

Then it was up the mountain for the Saturday edition of Oktoberfest. It was packed to the rafters with drunken rowdy fun people. Myself being one of them, because - (drum roll) - I had my first alcohol in six months last night. Drank 2 beers, and in a totally foolhardy move, downed a healthy shot of Jägermeister. Which put me over the edge and I was well and truly drunk. So it's true what they say, you get drunk quicker, but that's fine, quicker is good. What I wasn't prepared for is the massive - and I mean massive - hangover I had this morning. I tell you, it makes you want to stick with drugs for your buzzes.

It's funny though - the shot of Jäger: had I not been controlling myself very well, I could have easily projectile vomited across the entire audience from the taste alone. I've always thought it tasted roughly like paragoric, but post-surgery when taste buds can change, it was just ghastly. In fact, sitting here, I can think about that taste and almost wretch. If I'm going to be foolhardy again later on, I'm going to do it with Goldschlager. (Amazing though that I had no effects from that other than general drunkenness and hangover.)

One particular fun fact of Saturday night was that we had a brand new bride and groom at the proceedings, just married that afternoon - still in their wedding clothes. Thing of it was, they'd eloped up to Mountain Lake (the bride was apparently a "Dirty Dancing" fan), so they were totally sans any friends and family. So the whole rowdy crowd became their wedding party. And the bride was possibly even drunker than I at the end of the night. She came up for a picture with the SK Band girls, and the two of us ended up holding each other upright.

And as you might guess, this week's pictures are of the Oktoberfest variety. Hey, when that's what your weekend consists of, that's what your pictures are about, OK?

First of all, in another stunning I-have-way-too-much-time-on-my-hands move, I got to working this past week on something Mr M and I had been lamenting about for some time. That was that Shermoid and His Peaness had lederhosen, hats, pins, feathers, and instruments - and yet had no beer mugs to "Ein Prosit" with.

So this week I went into action on the sly for a little weekend surprise. I couldn't find (and I was totally surprised by this fact) any miniature beer mugs. However, I did find miniature watering cans. I got two, pried the spouts off them, painted over their metal exteriors with a stoneware colored paint, manipulated the handles around, gave them each a decal, then covered them with a clear coat to make them shiny. Now they can toast during "Ein Prosit" - and in fact, we got people in the crowd last night toasting them as well! These boys just spread sunshine wherever they go....



(Yes, they're toasting in my kitchen because I forgot to take a picture of them in action this weekend. Seems it was the only picture I didn't get.)

Our next picture may not mean much to you, but it means a great deal to three certain people. We're a small section - we few, we happy few, we band of clarinet brothers. We get drowned out on many occasions, but if provoked, we can be quite dangerous - ask any trumpet player who's ever tangled with Mr M. The below was his idea, and Ed thought it was great and got it made for us, and it made its premiere with the band above our precious little heads Friday night:



Yes, please keep a good two feet away from us at all times. We get testy.

And now to tonight's recipe du jour. For me, this is just weird. Tonight's dish for your enjoyment is Steak Diana (With Curried Pears):



This is weird for me because one of my favorite dishes is Steak Dianne. And to quote a now-forgotten Vice Presidential candidate, I know Steak Dianne. I've eaten Steak Dianne, and I've lovingly smelled the aroma of Steak Dianne as it was lit aflame at my table. And you, dish, are no Steak Dianne.

Apparently Steak Diana is some home-cooked knockoff where you use cube steak (I can't even imagine), and several different fruits, and brown sugar. And you don't light it on fire. Well, I never. I hope Steak Dianne sues for copyright infringement and defamation of character. I don't even know where the curried pears come into it, but since this dish asks to be served with lemon pie for dessert, I'll stick around.

Have a good week - stay tuned for acro tomorrow.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* DeepFatFriar was at Mr M's this weekend, and attended the Friday Oktoberfest - he was asked by a drunken patron if he was the bouncer. The two of us had a headrush of excitement and emotion which I'll expound upon later in the week.
* The Director of Betland Security has changed the alert back to yellow, or giggly. However, be advised that she's still awfully grouchy about W, whom she fuckin' hates.
* Favorite verbal exchange heard this weekend: Seth - "My weenie's cold." Kevin (entering the conversation about a minute later) - "My weenie's so hot it burned my hand."