Wednesday, April 11, 2007

9 out of 10 drippy dicks and sore throats recommend penicillin

Finally. We are sailing back to work. We still have ships out o’ commission, but we’re heading back and we are ready to kick some butt. I am a coiled spring, poised to pounce on anything that even resembles work.

Today we took the supply ship alongside. It was the same ship that took me to my mother vessel while in Alaskan waters last year and it brought back some nasty memories of 3 frozen days with little food, or water, sleeping in a survival suit. Anyhoo, we received a disappointingly small amount of food stores and then the damn thing took out the railing of the stern stairway as she left. Not a stellar grocery run by all accounts. I picked up a new pair of steel-toed boots and gloves in the deal so it wasn’t a total loss.

While our new cook was less than pleased with the food haul, he later engaged a few of us in a lively session of “decide the next 3 lunches and dinners”. I seized upon specially prepared pork chops for tonight’s dinner and held out for the first win. Emboldened by this victory, I slammed the competition to set tomorrow’s lunch as Mexican, with fresh Guac, and then in a bold move secured Saturday’s dinner as Asian night, complete with ahi tuna/seaweed rolls. I was immensely pleased with the chops, done in sesame and olive oils, crusted with rosemary, black pepper, garlic and something else that escapes me. A brownie and a glass of milk capped off the chops:)

I got an email from my wonderful and talented editors at FTTW, (pause to wipe nose off) asking for more writing, so if you’ve a mind to, go poke around there, on Thursday. There has been some damn good writing over there, lately and I’m quite pleased to be able to stick my junk in with it all.

Finally, in a surprise move, my strep throat crept back in and began to strangle me again, last night. This, two days after my SECOND course of antibiotics completed. WTF? I have learned from this that you do NOT treat strep with Keflex. Break out the drippy dick meds, bare your ass and get the fucking shot. I WILL be better in 2 days.


barista grazioso said...

Okay. I officially hate you and want my own cook. I don't really hate you per se, but I want my own damn cook.

A shot in the ass? I'll pass. Here's to you feeling better soon!! **clinks glasses**

p.s. pray tell you didn't give the creeping crud to your much-better-half.

Queen of Dysfunction said...

Do you treat the cooks on your ship like your own personal chefs? Because that's what I would do if I were you. Ask for bizarre shit, make weird demands.

Ok, maybe not. I wouldn't want to eat an okie blow or anything.