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Inspirational Reads

Friday Morning Latin Lesson, Volume XXV

May 22, 2009

Happy Memorial Day weekend, folks. This weekend is the "unofficial" kick-off to the summer season. Hooray! And by "hooray", I mean, "let's be anally raped by the gas companies a little more."

Summer is a grand time of heat, humidity, bug bites, sun burns, poison ivy, sweat, short skirts, tank tops, tan lines (or lack thereof), lagered beers, fat guys in ugly-ass Hawaiian shirts, sweat, meat sizzling over somewhat contained cauldrons of fire and smoke, "pop up" thunderstorms, sweat, short skirts, bikinis, and skewered pieces of animal roasting over the fire. I think I covered everything. Oh, yeah, sweat. Almost forgot.

What summer means around here is that you better hope to God or any other deity with an ear turned toward your baleful prayers that you don't have to go east on I-40 Friday afternoons. The interstate is packed asshole-to-armpit with assholes (and armpits) making for the beach. Myself, I'm a mountain man, not only because there's a beautiful serenity about the mountains, but also because mountains look like boobs. Heh heh. Boobies.

Traditionally, on Memorial Day weekend, people cook out. Sometimes, they invite friends over. Males of the herd typically stand around the grill, staring at it, offering advice on the best meat-flipping techniques known to modern man. The females gather together with the young, typically bitching about the males standing around the grill, staring at it, and offering advice on the best meat-flipping techniques known to modern man. And, just how fat and sweaty the males are.

So, this weekend, when you're watching a juicy slab of ground beef sizzling away over fiery red coals--or, better yet, a delicious cheddar bratwurst--and you don't want to impart any advice on how best to flip the meat, try this beauty on for size and I guarantee you'll make an impression.

Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri?

Pronounced: "Ah-nee-mahd-vair-teese-tee-nay, oob-eek-coom-quay staise, foom-oom rake-tah een fahk-ee-aim fair-ree?"

Hovertext has the translation. Happy Memorial Day, everyone!


Pfangirl said...

So nice to know I'm not the only one affected by the smoke curse. (Admittedly I'm one of those women who doesn't know her place and always hovers around the grill).

Anyway, yes, happy Memorial Day weekend to all Americans. We South Africans will think of you, our barbecuing cousins across the sea, while we braai our boerewors.

God said...

Wait, is that Scope in the picture?

Har har. Just kidding Scope, love ya buddy.


As a devout introvert/asshole and someone who likes their giant steaks cooked till gray in a frying pan and then smothered in ketchup, the whole BBQ business has me baffled.

Invite a bunch of loud people over to trample your lawn, eat all your expensive meat, drink all your booze, create a pile of dishes to do, and trash your lawn furniture? Where do I sign up?

Nay, I'd prefer to be one of those sweaty idiots on I-40, heading somewhere to get away from everyone else. Except I suppose I-40 only leads people to throngs of OTHER people, which isn't all that appealing either now that I think of it.

Knock Canada if you will, but considering most of our roads dead-end in some sort of vast forest, desolate mountain range, or half-empty campground with broken old picnic tables, yeah, 'quid pro quo' or whatever in Latin means "I'll take that anyday."

the iNDefatigable mjenks said...

@ Pfangirl: Wait, so the Boer Wars were just about sausages? Man, did I have THAT all wrong.

@ God: If they trample my lawn, that's less I have to mow. Oh, and that's not Scope; the shirt's not ugly enough.

Lostinspace said...

Nothing says Memorial Day like smoking flaming meat and lots of lager. I'm off to join in the traffic!

Anna Russell said...

I'm too dumbstruck by that awesome Hawian shirt to practice the Latin.

Happy Memorial Day my over the pond friends!

Nej said...

I have to say, the boob similarity isn't what takes me to the mountains (I can say I'll never look at them the same again). I DO prefer them over the beach by far!

If you sweat in the mountains, it means you're doing something. Like climbing them....or lifting heavy things.

I'm opposed to sweating for no other reason than standing outside. :-) :-)

red said...

Yay! Long weekend!!!

You know what I noticed? Only couples do the BBQ thing. I haven't been to a BBQ since I've been single and when I was partnered the only people who hosted hem were couples. I think BBQ's are just an excuse to talk to someone other than your husband/wife.

Sass said...

I always figured that the old wives tale was true, that smoke followed beauty.

The gentleman in the picture proves this to be incorrect. ;)

coolred38 said...

Dont mind the smoke so much when its got the saliva enducing abilities of a good wood flavour and BBQ sauce...I do mind smoke when it has over 70 different poisons all wrapped up in a little stick that I figure people might as well shove up their ass as stick in their mouths...ends up hurting u all the same...but why do I have to suffer it?

If the mountains are boobies...what are the valleys?

Chaka said...

It sounds like you have most people's routine pegged. Have a good one whatever you end up doing. I need to learn some shorter Latin phrases. My attention span isn't long enough to tackle the long phrases.

Eric said...

Take it easy, fratrem!
Do some killer grilling for me.

Missy said...

Happy Memorial Day weekend! You are so correct about the assholes and the beach! LOL

Frank said...

If I could cultivate a mustache like that, I'd die a happy man.