Legion World Forums LEGION COMPANION Spaceopoly Kill This Thread VII: The 24-Hour Version, Part 3

Granted! This thread will die as of this post.

[Yosemite Sam:] Ooooooooooh!! You no-good varmint!!!11[/Yosemite Sam]

Warner Bros. cartoon references are always welcome, even if they don't kill a thread.

Yosemite Sam is supposedly modeled in part on WB stalwart Isadore "Friz" Freleng. I think they both had red hair.

Red hair will not kill this thread, either.

Well, continuing the red theme then:

I made "Avery Island" style bbq sauce yesterday. It takes some elbow grease but the results are well worth it. Plus, there's still plenty left to use again for another meal later in the week.

A seventy-cent can of tomato paste can be evolved into pure glory, with the right recipe. It almost makes me not want to give up on this whole civilization thing.

Avery Schreiber was a comedian and character actor, famous for his mustache, who appeared in a memorable series of commercial for Doritos in the 1970s.

He had the best hair of any spokesperson from that era.

William Shatner had a much better death scene as a spokesperson for Priceline than he had as Captain Kirk.

I won't comment on his hair.

In four posts we went from bbq to death.

We sure are a morose bunch on Legion World. <strike>And it's probably all my fault.</strike>

Since I'm not a meat-eater (I eat poultry and seafood, but nothing that ever had hair), I'm not much for barbecue. I lived in Houston for ten years before I knew that Texas barbecue is traditionally made from beef instead of pork.

Rocky, I used chicken thighs for the bbq "vehicle." They're the closest thing these days to cheap animal protein that can go on a grill. I've got a lime marinade-sauce that works great for salmon or shrimp on the grill, too.

In these here parts, if it ain't beef, it ain't barbecue. Really, it's a whole culture that's been under my nose the whole time I've lived here about which I'm totally ignorant.

Of course, I live in Texas and don't know all that many Republicans.

That's okay, Rocky. I've lived in PDX since 1988, and I've still never played hacky-sack, worn dreadlocks, or worked for a feisty, "hip" internet startup.

(I have, however, eaten a lot of tofu. That's tonight's dinner. )

Jeepers! I haven't played hacky-sack in ages! Or thought about it even!

Is hacky-sacky associated somehow with Portland, Oregon? Being a proper New Englander at heart, if transplanted, I always refer to that city as "Portland, Oregon", because unqualified, Portland, naturally, would refer to the city in Maine.

But don't worry: I know better than to call it "Ore-gone".

I felt like I was the only person in Pioneer Courthouse Square between 1988 and 1998 who wasn't there to play hacky-sack.

Oh, and nobody minds what you call the city, Rocky. So long as you don't pronounce the state name "Or-ee-gone."

According to Wikipedia, the modern incarnation of footbag (the generic name of hacky sack, which is a brand name), was invented in Oregon City.

Growing up in Massachusetts and Florida, I always heard "OR-uh-gonn" and, for that matter "nuh-VAH-duh" instead of "OR-uh-gun" and "nuh-VAD-uh".

One you really have to pay attention for is people from Wisconsin pronounce it "wisc-ON-sin" and "wis-CON-sin:.

I've studied "OR-gun", but I prefer playing the "pee-A-no". (Or where I grew up, it's the "pee-A-nuh")

I tried organ, piano, violin, cello, guitar and recorder. I wasn't particularly good at any of them. Then someone said "Just sing in the choir." The rest is history.

Wow! My musical bio is almost exactly like Rocky's-- if you remove "The rest is history," and instead substitute the phrase: Gave up anything to do with musical productions for the good of all humanity!

cleome, Rocky, and I could play a recorder trio.

I have a recorder somewhere. I also have a keyboard that I use mainly to learn choir parts.

Dogs will howl along with the recorder. This makes it really hard to play, because who can giggle and play a wind instrument at the same time?

Cats will run into the room, mistaking the "music" for the sounds of a wounded bird. Only to turn around in disgust and walk out once they realize they've been deceived.