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I held a brunch today and went through about 6 lbs of potatoes, 4 lbs of meat, a dozen eggs, and the equivalent of 4 sticks of butter for 6 people.  This is a bit of an exaggeration as I have sizeable leftovers.  Anyway, most of the butter went into dutch baby bunnies that quickly became called dutch baby butter bunnies as the recipe called for 1/2 a stick a piece.

The start of the recipe is to melt the stick in a skillet and then to dump the batter on top of it.  I think the recipe overstated the need for butter as the bunny wasn’t lifted from the skillet so much as slid from it with about a tablespoon or two of butter puddled in the middle like a confectionary kiddy pool being dropped from a drop deck trailer.  Based on the grunts and groans, everyone had their fill and I wasn’t too enthused about cleaning up so I left the butter soaked pan to rest until after nap time.  I returned and pan had been licked clean based on the tongue marks and the rest of the butter had been absorbed by the pan, nicely seasoning it.  Behold the power of butter.

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Joe and I decided to get better at Scrabble.  We’ve played a bunch of practice games and started to memorize the two and three letter words.  Despite this, Chris Fosmire pwned us, partly due to his invented word “THROTLE”, I saw the tiles go down and assumed there was a third T.  I’ll never trust my boss again.

Anyway, after an amazing game of three-at-once words, Q’s on triple letter scores in two directions the scores still barely broke 200 (intermediate players should hit 500 to 700).  In a last ditch effort, we lasted two hours at Teejay Green’s playing two enraging games.  I had the tiles AAEIRTS and I knew there was a seven letter word in there.  After three minutes of staring, I played ATRIA for a whopping 12 points only to find today that ATRESIA would have have net me 76.  If someone had pointed it out to me, Joe and Teejay would have been picking wood out of their teeth.

Words hard.

Joe and I are looking for something new to become obsessed with, preferably something easier to become skilled at like sepak takraw (great video) or Sanskrit (good comic).

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Joe and I decided to get better at Scrabble.  We’ve played a bunch of practice games and started to memorize the two and three letter words.  Despite this, Chris Fosmire pwned us, partly due to his invented word “THROTLE”, I saw the tiles go down and assumed there was a third T.  I’ll never trust my boss again.

Anyway, after an amazing game of three-at-once words, Q’s on triple letter scores in two directions the scores still barely broke 200 (intermediate players should hit 500 to 700).  In a last ditch effort, we lasted two hours at Teejay Green’s playing two enraging games.  I had the tiles AAEIRTS and I knew there was a seven letter word in there.  After three minutes of staring, I played ATRIA for a whopping 12 points only to find today that ATRESIA would have have net me 76.  If someone had pointed it out to me, Joe and Teejay would have been picking wood out of their teeth.

Words hard.

Joe and I are looking for something new to become obsessed with, preferably something easier to become skilled at like sepak takraw (great video) or Sanskrit (good comic).

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I go through bursts of hating to eat out.  It’s a poor value in that I’m essentially paying for a table and for someone to periodically interrupt the conversation.  Joe and I changed tack and for $12.00 we enjoyed about two pounds of chicken strips and a pound of tater tots washed down with some swell apple cider.

Driving home with my arm out the car window holding the champagne-like bottle and drinking it at red lights and modifying my route to drive by as many police stations as possible was my attempt at evening entertainment.  There just aren’t enough cops out at 10 PM on Tuesdays.

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I’d unwittingly volunteered to do a Webelos Weekend and spent far more time preparing for it compared to any program I’ve ever run.  The theme was “Mad Scientist Training Weekend” and kids completed the Science related activity pins.

Highlights:

  • A fight between the Scout professional and the event staff over the breakfast drinks between water and juice.  The compromise: Tang
  • A leader asked if I could leave the pavilion light on as he graded papers saying he was a college professor.  I checked back and he was grading papers titled “and now you try: identifying nouns”
  • The evening meal for the kids was a mini-pizza and pasta for the adults.  A leader asked if he could bring out his propane stove to cook something and the administrative head shot it down.  He later approached me and offered me an Omaha Steak in return for some black-market grilling.
  • My dad was pressed into running a station after a station lead texted out sick.  Normally he doesn’t smoke on Scout trips as the outdoors calms him, apparently Cub Scouts don’t as he decimated cigarettes between groups in about 8 seconds.
  • The evening presentation involved five rapid-fire demos that Joe and I did involving Newton’s First Law of Motion and atmospheric pressure.  Joe and I made up a neat presentation where he breaks a brick over my hand with a hammer without injuring my hand to which no one responded.  HE BROKE A BRICK OVER MY HAND.  But when I used a playing card to seal a graduated cylinder everyone was stunned.  After the presentation no less than 5 kids approached doubting the card’s efficacy until they tried it.  Each was completely uninterested in how a brick broke over my hand.
  • I had to drive home to grab a broom to clean up the next day and picked up Max so he could go for a run in the park.  He was very interested the trip until he arrived, took a massive dump and ran back to the car.  I think my family’s dog may be responsible for a series of shit-n-runs.

Go Webelos.

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As many of you associated with my camp life now know, Bill Mischke is stepping down as a Director of Camps and Properties for Bucks County Council on September 30th.  He’s going to Baltimore Area Council to hopefully work his magic again on a larger scale and I wish him the best.

In other news, I worked on doing more after camp clean up and found some documents form the summer that I thought I’d store on Flickr.

whit-imissyouThis is a cry for help I received from Whit during his starting time at Kirby

TomPaintThis is a picture Joe Naylor did of Tom Leitz in paint

IMG_0622This is a picture of the sun setting over Furlong in a day where I drove from camp to home and back four times or so for Nick Gramiccioni.

IMG_0654This is Nick Gramiccioni looking really fat.

IMG_0648This is an absolute pile of food decimated during the staff banquet

IMG_0656This is Mike Spinrad chucking A1

I hope to have more pictures up shortly once I figure out how to make Lightroom cooperate on network drives.

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A gentlemen at camp liked what we were doing and purchased us some wireless N stuff so the staff could do work in more places.  The problem has been that the DNS service we use is not acting correctly eliciting the following:

Joe: Terry, you can access facebook, are the dominican monks that guard the Internet on strike?
Me: The DNS service isn’t working, you could go to hothotsluts.com without being stopped.
Joe: Really? *wait* Damn, hothotsluts.com doesn’t exist.  It should.
Me: Hold on… I now own hothotsluts.com.

So, I’m now the proud owner of hothotsluts.com, I’m not sure where I should direct it.  In other news, we discovered that hotsluts.com does indeed exist and with a byline “sluttier than you could ever imagine” I don’t know how they’re not #1 on the slut charts.

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An age old Robinson family condition is that my brother gets plastered and then challenges me to a flexibility contest.  We once broke the door off of a microwave when we needed something between countertop and window sill.  I have brought this tradition to camp and yesterday we engaged in one using a staircase.

It was epic with critical moments like realizing that Scout pants aren’t up to the job, Bill Schilling learning that it’s cheating to have someone lift you while stretching and Joe Naylor learning there were some places the human foot was not meant to go and especially ways it shouldn’t get there.  Everytime someone walked in they looked at us strangely but eventually began cheering as Pat and Joe went into a kind of obese limber man’s game of PIG eventually resulting in Joe nearly destroying a telephone while using his right hand to pull his foot above his head.  In the course of this, we made a bit of noise and today one of the upstairs inhabitants talked to me about what happened.

Pool Director:  I was about to come down and chew you out until I heard you say “That table wasn’t mean to hold that kind of weight” and “Joe, don’t do it, your foot wasn’t meant to do that” followed by Tom’s belly laugh.  I figured I’d probably get involved too.

How cool would that have been?  A 55 year old aquatics director challenging a bunch of young turks to a foot lifting competition.  I think my instigation single-handedly decimated four separate crotches the next day, ironically, one was the health officer’s.

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Egyptian Rat Screw is a fast-slapping playing card game I’ve loved for years.  I played it at first in elementary school but not until I had hours to kill as a Scout volunteer did I really develop retarded skill at the game.  My current streak is 74 games most against Joe Naylor.  Some of the persons present when Joe an I were player weren’t familiar with my preternatural slapping speed.

Pat: How are you so stupidly fast at this?
Me:  I think it’s a combination of spending my youth summing house numbers on my way to school and screwing with my cat.
Pat: How did the cat help?
Me: He was never declawed.

This last part came back and bit me when I was screwing with Joe’s cat, and in an attempt to avoid getting scratched I pulled my hand away whiping like 9 drinks off the table.  I later found out it was declawed and getting pawed by it was like being a attacked by a handful of Q-tips.