Wednesday, January 28, 2009

An Aussie on The Square

The HLDW* and I live in an Atlanta, GA suburb by the name of Marietta. One of the things that we like about this burb is that they have preserved it's historical downtown area. It is laid out in that "town square" fashion that is iconic Americana - there is a park area (with a fountain and stage for summer concerts) surrounded on four sides by streets - the court house is set at one side of the square and the other three sides are shops and restaurants.

So, the HLDW and I finish dinner at the pizza joint and decide that we need something for dessert. It is too cold for ice cream so we decide to go the pastry route and saunter over to take a look at one of the businesses that we haven't visited yet -- The Australian Bakery. We've been living in Marietta for the last 3 years and have been on 'The Square' numerous times but I've never poked my horn in there for a look ... it could be that "Australian Bakery" sounds like an oxymoron to me - Vegemite Strudel anyone?

We walk in are greeted with a massive bakery case filled with sweet and savory pastries on one side of the room and on the other side we see this (pics taken with my phone so apologies in advance for the dodgy quality)

A wall full of freakin' Aussie dry goods and stuff.

Of course, right off the bat they feature that quintessential Australian delicacy...

Yeah, Vegemite. And, no, I didn't buy any.

Further exploration found these:

Birmo posted, lovingly, about Tim Tams over on Cheesburger Gothic ... but I didn't buy any this round. Bought too much of the fresh and delicious looking offerings in the case - an apple turnover and slice of carrot cake for the Rhino and some frufru stuff for the HLDW.

But then, I found something utterly disturbing that defied immediate identification. I know, the package identifies them as "Musk Flavoured Sticks" (and you know they are foreign because of the extra "u" in the word flavored) What what I couldn't identify is whether these were a food product, insect repellent or something used by Aussie blokes to attract the sheilas... so, I decided to go with food product.


What the HELL are these things? Worse yet, what kind of conversation had to go on at the marketing meeting for these things? "Well, you know, peppermint sticks are nice and all but don't you think that it's a bit cliche? I think that it's about time to give some consideration to the clamoring hordes of musk lovers we all know are out there. We'll OWN the market!"

I offered the HLDW $50.00 to try them but she muttered something about having enough trouble getting the musk out of my side of the bed sheets and refused.

As we make our purchases I hear the distinctive sound of the Australian accent and am informed by the clerk that the speaker is the owner/baker, and he is, indeed, an actual Australian. I introduce myself and the HLDW and we exchange the usual pleasantries. After a few minutes I decide that I need to establish my Oz Cred so I go for the big name drop, "So, I'm sure you've read He Died with a Felafel in His Hand by John Birmingham?"

Oz Baker, "Umm, no, don't know that one."

Rhino, "You know, John Birmingham? He Died was adapted into a play and is the longest running play in Australian history ... that John Birmingham?"

Oz Baker, "Ummm, nope."

Rhino, "OK, then. Maybe you know about his award winning history of Sydney, Leviathan?"

Oz Baker, "Hmmmmmmm, nope, don't know it."

Rhino, "Do you read science fiction? Maybe you've seen his Axis of Time trilogy?"

Oz Baker, "No. But I may have to check them out."

Rhino, "Yeah, well, I think that you'd enjoy them. Oh, and, he's got another coming out in February - Without Warning."

I was about to go into a synopsis of the plot and characters along with my best rendition of of my best "You don't get these by pettin' kitty cats" but, by this point, his eyes were glazing over like the topping on the apple tart I just purchased.

So, there you go ... my attempt to name drop is an epic fail.

In consolation the apple turnover was pretty good.

But the slice of carrot cake was stale.

All in all I should have gone with the Tim Tams.

Regards,
Rhino

*Hippie Liberal Douche Wife

Monday, January 19, 2009

Big Guy Seating

The HLDW* and I were driving today and the subject of lunch venue was raised.

HLDW, "Let's do Indian food."

Rhino, "Blech. I had my mouth controls set to 'pizza'."

HLDW, "Well, reset them."

Rhino, "I didn't bring any pepto." (Indian food does really, really bad things to Rhino tummys)

HLDW, "I have some in my purse."

Well, at that point I knew that the best option on the decision tree was that of tactical retreat as when it comes to either Thai or Indian food the HLDW is much like the Borg - resistance is futile.

Rhino, "OK, which one do you want to go to - the French Indian one or the Bombay Cafe?"

HLDW, "French Indian? Which one is that?"

OK, I may have been forced to perform a tactical retreat in the face of overwhelming odds but that wasn't going to stop me from getting off a Parthian shot while doing so.

Rhino, (with a barely restrained smirk) "You know the one I'm talking about, the Le Whore Grill." (I am one witty mofo).

HLDW, "If you mean the Lahore Grill then I think we should go to the Bombay Cafe."

Rhino, "Cool, they have the puffy chairs."

HLDW, "That's what you remember about the place? You really focus on the strangest things."

Rhino, "Seating arrangements are a key strategic consideration for those of us classified as 'large and in charge'."

Now I've set the HLDW on the relative merits of seating at the various Indian restaurants...

HLDW, "Are the seats at Lahore uncomforable?"

Rhino, "No, they're fine. But the ones at Bombay are plush and have plenty of elbow room - you know, for when I have to make a mad dash to the buffet and fight those tough old ladies for the last of the nan."

HLDW, "OK, I get it, but please don't say 'you don't get these by petting kitty cats' to anyone in the buffet line this time."

Rhino, "Well, in my defense that lady's walker did bump into me."

HLDW, "Have I told you lately that you are insane?."

Rhino, "I set my watch by your insanity proclamations darlin'."

The eye-roll really was spectacular.

It really is good to be an equestrian archer Rhino - but it is hell on the horses.

Regards,
The Rhino

*Hippie Liberal Douche Wife

And, yes, it is Parthian shot and not parting shot - read some military history.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The HLDW Meets Buffalo Bill

The HLDW* and I were lying in bed this morning sharing one of those wonderfully intimate moments (No, you pervs, not one of those intimate moments - get your mind out of the gutter) and, as she is wont to do, she asks me to share my thoughts. Not good. Why? Well, as much as she asserts that sharing my thoughts is a positive thing and something she likes and encourages, it rarely turns out to be the relationship enhancing moment that she thinks it will be.

This time was no different.

So, as we lay there cuddling I, using my outside voice in the clueless way that I have, observed that if she were ever kidnapped by a serial killer she would surely survive as her god-given ability to exasperate anyone would force them to release her post haste.

For some reason this compliment did not elicit the hug and kiss that I thought it would. Quite the contrary as a matter of fact.

HLDW, "What do you mean by that?"

Rhino, "I'm just saying that once you get on something there is no force that will move you off your position."

HLDW, "Yeah, so what does that have to do with serial killers?"

Rhino, "Well, I was just thinking about that scene in Silence of the Lambs where the serial killer, Buffalo Bill, has that chick in the well and I thought if that was you in there you would have kicked his ass."

HLDW, "Huh? Why would you be thinking that?"

Rhino, "Ummmm, I don't know, it just popped into my head."

So, at that point, knowing that there was really no way in hell that I could adequately explain why I was imagining her in the grips of a serial killer I decided that the best course of action would be to just act out the scene for her ... doing both voices.

Rhino as Buffalo Bill, "It puts on the lotion or It gets the hose."

Rhino as the HLDW, "Yeah, well, about that, it looks as if this is generic lotion and I don't do generic.

Buffalo Bill, "It puts on the lotion or It gets the hose."

HLDW, "Do you have anything scented?"

Buffalo Bill, (a little more agitated) "It puts on the LOTION or It gets the HOSE."

HLDW, "Now slow down there, I told you it was generic and it could make me break out and I don't see a spa anywhere in this hole so that's a no-go."

Buffalo Bill, (now a whole lot more agitated) "I SAID IT PUTS ON THE LOTION OR IT GETS THE HOSE."

Aside - At this point I was deep into my character and really getting into it so much so that the spittle was literally flying, which, I thought, really lent an air of authenticity to my portrayal.


HLDW, "Yeah, and that's another thing, don't even think about spraying water on this blouse, much less the hair, Mr. Demanding No Manners."

Buffalo Bill, (lowering ladder into the well) "Get out."

HLDW, "What?"

Buffalo Bill, "I said, GET OUT. I give up, it isn't worth it. If you don't leave right now I'm calling the FBI. And leave the lotion."

HLDW, "You should really think about taking some anger management classes or, at the very least, taking a yoga or meditation class."

Breathless, I concluded my little scene for her with the sure knowledge that it should be abundantly clear that what I originally said was meant to be a compliment.

HLDW, (laughing hysterically) "Why are you so odd?"

Rhino, "What? You escaped."

HLDW, "Odd. Odd. Odd."

Rhino, "Sheesh, you're the one that likes sharing. I thought that was supposed to bring us closer together." What did I do?"

For the record I do a helluva' Buffalo Bill.

Flying spittle and all.

It is good to be the method acting Rhino.

Regards,
Rhino

*Hippie Liberal Douche Wife

Return of the Rhino

I'm back. I've decided to start posting here pending site enhancements at the Cheesburger.

I'll be back later with an update and the latest with the HLDW.

Regards,
Rhino