Hobo Jungle
Hev, now you're talking eats. Darn those look good. What's the recipe? (I think we talk about food, beer, and tits ten times more than trains.)
Will, I honestly have no clue. I hate to go south of Boston and basically I don't.
Will, I honestly have no clue. I hate to go south of Boston and basically I don't.
Last edited by Tramp on Mon Jul 16, 2007 8:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
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Will
- Posts: 303
- Joined: Tue Mar 09, 2004 11:26 am
- Location: Formerly Delaware Water Gap, PA, now sweltering Miami
Tramp wrote:Hev, now you're talking eats. Darn those look good. What's the recipe? (I think we talk about food, beer, and tits ten times more than trains.)
Will, I honestly have no clue. I hate to go north of Boston and basically I don't.
But Tramp, you are north of Boston, so I guess you meant south of Boston. I'd love to be in Maine right now, but here I am. These are the sacrifices you make for your kids.
Once I get this one through college, its back to the bohemian life for me.
Will
Pennsy, still the Standard, or whatever.
Pennsy, still the Standard, or whatever.
[quote="Tramp"]Hev, now you're talking eats. Darn those look good. What's the recipe? (I think we talk about food, beer, and tits ten times more than trains.)[/quote]
You really don't need a recipe for those Maryland Blues. Throw 'em in the steamer pot, blast the hell out of 'em with Old Bay Seasoning, steam 'em until they're reddish orange, and eat 'em! Wash down with gallons 'o beer.
You really don't need a recipe for those Maryland Blues. Throw 'em in the steamer pot, blast the hell out of 'em with Old Bay Seasoning, steam 'em until they're reddish orange, and eat 'em! Wash down with gallons 'o beer.
If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
Right you are on the lot of work, but you really don't make a meal of 'em. At our last family reunion down a Glen Burnie, (when half my family was still alive 
), we bought a bushel already cooked and chilled. Think it was in '94, $60 a bushel. 'Ya just spread newspapers out on the kitchen table, paper towels for everybody, and just drink beer and shoot the shit. The crabs are kinda like peanuts on the bar. 
), we bought a bushel already cooked and chilled. Think it was in '94, $60 a bushel. 'Ya just spread newspapers out on the kitchen table, paper towels for everybody, and just drink beer and shoot the shit. The crabs are kinda like peanuts on the bar. If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
Mitch wrote:Right you are on the lot of work, but you really don't make a meal of 'em. At our last family reunion down a Glen Burnie, (when half my family was still alive
And I sure you drank beer instead good white wine.........
A.
Will, I did mean SOUTH.
I don't think you can get those crabs in Maine.
Luke wanted drive-through, but Jimmy insisted on a sit-down place that wasn’t a chain. He wanted to brush his teeth for one thing, and chains depressed him with their orange plastic seats and generic food. They found a place a few miles off an exit outside of Dover, Delaware.
“This takes extra time, Hack, you know that?”
Jimmy pointed out the curtained window. “But we can get a case across the street at that packie.”
“Good man. That’s why you’re the boss.”
“And we need a cooler, since it must be ninety degrees out, even this early. Is it always this hot down south?”
“Hot? Just wait.”
They’d ordered breakfast steaks with sausage on the side, along with all the trimmings. “Can’t believe they don’t have those crabs.” Luke had argued with the waitress about it, and he couldn’t seem to get over it.
“It’s a diner, why would they have soft-shelled crabs?”
“They’re supposed to be famous around here. I wanted surf and turf.”
“First you wanted fast food.”
“At least they have beer.” Luke pulled at his Bud. “And not that green stuff you brought. That’s some nasty shit.”
“It’s Ballantine’s. An ale. Chevalier had talked about it. His favorite.”
“Sorry, Hack. Don’t mean to put down the man’s beer.” He took another sip. “We’ll get those crabs for lunch. I’ve never had ‘em, but they’re supposed to be good with beer.”
Jimmy was drinking coffee. Luke could drink a lot more beer than he could. Even the bottle in his hand appeared half size.
The steaks arrived. “Here we are.” She set down the loaded plates. “What else can I get for you boys?” she said. They shook their heads. “You sure? All right then. Now you enjoy your breakfasts.”
“They sound kinda dumb around here,” said Luke around a forkful. “But they don’t bug you about eatin’ good. In Cal now they stare at you like a leper when you order two kinds a meat, like I can live on that sprout and whole-wheat shit. That’s bird food, man! If meat weren’t good for you, how’d the caveman survive, tell me that? And they had it a lot tougher’n us.”
Jimmy paid the check—as far as he knew, Luke never ponied up for anything—and he took a toothbrush into the restroom. Luke wasn’t big on hygiene either.
I don't think you can get those crabs in Maine.
Luke wanted drive-through, but Jimmy insisted on a sit-down place that wasn’t a chain. He wanted to brush his teeth for one thing, and chains depressed him with their orange plastic seats and generic food. They found a place a few miles off an exit outside of Dover, Delaware.
“This takes extra time, Hack, you know that?”
Jimmy pointed out the curtained window. “But we can get a case across the street at that packie.”
“Good man. That’s why you’re the boss.”
“And we need a cooler, since it must be ninety degrees out, even this early. Is it always this hot down south?”
“Hot? Just wait.”
They’d ordered breakfast steaks with sausage on the side, along with all the trimmings. “Can’t believe they don’t have those crabs.” Luke had argued with the waitress about it, and he couldn’t seem to get over it.
“It’s a diner, why would they have soft-shelled crabs?”
“They’re supposed to be famous around here. I wanted surf and turf.”
“First you wanted fast food.”
“At least they have beer.” Luke pulled at his Bud. “And not that green stuff you brought. That’s some nasty shit.”
“It’s Ballantine’s. An ale. Chevalier had talked about it. His favorite.”
“Sorry, Hack. Don’t mean to put down the man’s beer.” He took another sip. “We’ll get those crabs for lunch. I’ve never had ‘em, but they’re supposed to be good with beer.”
Jimmy was drinking coffee. Luke could drink a lot more beer than he could. Even the bottle in his hand appeared half size.
The steaks arrived. “Here we are.” She set down the loaded plates. “What else can I get for you boys?” she said. They shook their heads. “You sure? All right then. Now you enjoy your breakfasts.”
“They sound kinda dumb around here,” said Luke around a forkful. “But they don’t bug you about eatin’ good. In Cal now they stare at you like a leper when you order two kinds a meat, like I can live on that sprout and whole-wheat shit. That’s bird food, man! If meat weren’t good for you, how’d the caveman survive, tell me that? And they had it a lot tougher’n us.”
Jimmy paid the check—as far as he knew, Luke never ponied up for anything—and he took a toothbrush into the restroom. Luke wasn’t big on hygiene either.
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
I know what you mean Andre. Tramp's writing is so very rich with word images. In just a few lines I learned the following about Luke:
likes quick generic food (no taste),
likes generic beer (pale water),
does not like beer with interesting flavor,
is quick to criticize,
is quick to apologize,
is a really big dude,
can consume large quantities of beer,
does not eat vegetables,
thinks a balanced meal is two kinds of meat,
thinks he is smart,
never offers to help pay the bill,
is not obsessive about personal hygiene.
Like rich food, I like to savor Tramps passages and not rush the reading. And, unlike rich food, which is gone after you eat it, you can read Tramps bits again and again... then say, "Ahhh" each time.
likes quick generic food (no taste),
likes generic beer (pale water),
does not like beer with interesting flavor,
is quick to criticize,
is quick to apologize,
is a really big dude,
can consume large quantities of beer,
does not eat vegetables,
thinks a balanced meal is two kinds of meat,
thinks he is smart,
never offers to help pay the bill,
is not obsessive about personal hygiene.
Like rich food, I like to savor Tramps passages and not rush the reading. And, unlike rich food, which is gone after you eat it, you can read Tramps bits again and again... then say, "Ahhh" each time.
----Wayne----
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
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