All this talk about medicine flashes me on the 70's, some very bad behaviour with substances as exotic but not as safe as Bornstein's formula and which leaves me with a deep spiritual longing for some nice hashish. (At the Khyber pass border crossing in '76 I was approached by two ne'er-do-well salespeople, one a adolescent of indeterminate age with a small gun for sale and the other, a burly, swarthy pirate in a suit that had been slept in as much as day worn, who peeled back his coat to reveal what looked like a section of car tyre but was in fact a block of hashish that extended from his shoulder to his hip, deeply engraved so that you could see the quality was not just on the surface.) Ah, Afghani hashish; 2500 years of experience in sublimely tasty hedonism.
PUTIN: So, Donald Junior. You had pleasant evening? You like the girls?
JR: Yes, sir, they were great.
PUTIN: Now, to business. You have message for me?
JR: Oh. Yeah. Right. Um... "beef burrito."
PUTIN: What is?
JR: Sorry, sorry. "The whole enchilada."
PUTIN (pause; gravely): Do you understand what you are saying.
JR: Yes! Of course!
PUTIN (sotto): You are telling me to send tactical nuclear weapon against Los Angeles.
JR (pause; shrugs): Okay...
PUTIN (sighs; presses button on desk; to woman entering): Mila, show Mr. Trump Junior back to his hotel. Tell Antonov to tell President Trump that the shipment of barbecue arrived spoiled.
DR BORNSTEIN’S MAGIC MEDICAMENT DON’T DILUTE! DON’T DILUTE! NOT OK!
Trump??? SHARING??????
All this talk about medicine flashes me on the 70's, some very bad behaviour with substances as exotic but not as safe as Bornstein's formula and which leaves me with a deep spiritual longing for some nice hashish. (At the Khyber pass border crossing in '76 I was approached by two ne'er-do-well salespeople, one a adolescent of indeterminate age with a small gun for sale and the other, a burly, swarthy pirate in a suit that had been slept in as much as day worn, who peeled back his coat to reveal what looked like a section of car tyre but was in fact a block of hashish that extended from his shoulder to his hip, deeply engraved so that you could see the quality was not just on the surface.) Ah, Afghani hashish; 2500 years of experience in sublimely tasty hedonism.
I'll spend the weekend puzzling over the meaning of "Taco Salad" 'cause Allrecipes.com was no help at all.
Triggered and flashed back to the late 70's and early 80's - party times!! Unfortunately I remember very little of it.
PUTIN: So, Donald Junior. You had pleasant evening? You like the girls?
JR: Yes, sir, they were great.
PUTIN: Now, to business. You have message for me?
JR: Oh. Yeah. Right. Um... "beef burrito."
PUTIN: What is?
JR: Sorry, sorry. "The whole enchilada."
PUTIN (pause; gravely): Do you understand what you are saying.
JR: Yes! Of course!
PUTIN (sotto): You are telling me to send tactical nuclear weapon against Los Angeles.
JR (pause; shrugs): Okay...
PUTIN (sighs; presses button on desk; to woman entering): Mila, show Mr. Trump Junior back to his hotel. Tell Antonov to tell President Trump that the shipment of barbecue arrived spoiled.