As promised

I am back. This will be short as I am heading out the door to celebrate the Thursday night before Good Friday. I do not know what that means, either. I said that I would mention the evening at the Outlaws on Monday.

I needed a drink the moment I arrived. The buzz, useless buzz, that occurs there before the big event. I should have cracked open the wine earlier. It was hotter than Hades in there. My father in law cannot stop himself from turning up the fucking heat. As I think about it, I should have doused him with the fucking Galliano, tossed a match his and then ask him if it were hot enough for him. He would have still been shivering, looking for a coat. Of course, he would have been looking in the fridge, but at least he would be looking.

At one point, he is showing his grandchildren, my neices, "how" the heat works and the vent from which the hot air comes. I do not know if it was so much for their benefit (judging by the looks on their faces, I think not) or his own. Again, he cannot, nor has he ever, as far as I could see (nor does anybody in the whole Outlaw clan) thought that his listener was actually interested in what he was saying.

At one point, I am sitting with my brother in law (he is married to the Wife's sister) and listening to the cacaphony of voices. Every member of the Outlaws is talking. At the same fucking time! This is a bad family trait, nobody LISTENS. None of them can silence the voices in their own heads to actually listen to somebody else. I had to laugh (or go postal).

As the aunts arrived, I was sort of out of it. It was good. I did not listen to them or see anything because dammit, the NCAA final Basketball game was on. I will not socialize when I could be watching college hoops. That is what I did after dinner. Then, I went home. It was actually uneventful. Of course, I did not have dessert.

The Wife made a number of vegetable sides, because my mother in law obviously suffers from some sort of hysterical blindness when she hits the produce section of the supermarket. Those were great. My mother in law was supposed to have bought a smoked turkey all prepared and stuff, but then got cheap. That is okay, she is entitled, since the rest of the family do pretty much sweet fuck all (my father in law refers to them all as "Schnorers"-mooches, and he is pretty astute in that one, but being the non-confrontational people they are, never said anything, so 40 years of the same behavior ain't gonna change now). She made a turkey.

I was getting excited for the smoked turkey. It was a throw back to my families Seders back in the 1970s and 1980s. They tended to be held at our house (after they locked my paternal grandmother in a home--well she was in a vegetative state by then and lingered for about 15 years). I loved when it was delivered and taking a slice or two. Now, I am stuck with my mother in laws cooking of a turkey.

She then asks me how it is. She is fishing for a compliment. Yet, her cooking is crap. As I have said before, she overcooks everything. There is no flavor and bad texture. I changed the subject, but not that she would have listened to what I had to say in any event.

Well that is about it for now. Happy Good Friday all. Ciao!