Vegemite Sandwich -- Great White North Style

FINALLY, IT'S THE VEGEMITE LIVE CO-BLOGGING PRODUCTION INVOLVING HOMO ESCAPEONS AND WW, COURTESY OF THE LOVELY STACE FROM AUSTRALIA.


For those of you who haven't been paying attention, Stace mailed to WW a tube of Australia's famous vegemite at great expense more than a week ago. And the best-laid plans for Donn and WW to get together for a taste test fell through.

Oh, he had a vasectomy or some stupid procedure like that and whined for days about his need for frozen bags of peas and wah-wah-wah. But on Thursday night, the wimp finally made it over here in his winter gear.



Donn: OK I've come for the food downunda, where the women something-something , and the men chunda! Which I know is slang for look out below mate I'm gonna puke!
Now what do you with this stuff?

Do you snort it? Nope.

Maybe you need to heat it up and inject it?

Might have to hot knife this sucker..anyone remember doin' this in HIGH school?

You know this would prolly make a soothing hemorroidal ointment?

Oh Yeaaaaah!

Actually I have some post-vasectomized bits that would dearly love a little TLC..

Yeah BABY! Come to PAPA! Now we're talkin'!
HELLO!

CHRIS: What an arse. Donn's editing me as we go here, but the only use for this stuff is to help minimize the glare as we're gearing up for a game. HE says I look like Adam Ant for whatever reason.

I take no responsibility for his previous comments. But I look way better in this shit.

Donn: "RRRRRRR! You ain't so bad! Yer goin' down CREED!"

Hey maybe we can do some crafty stuff..VEGIART! Wow that looks Vagiant?

OK let's start with the basics..the ubiquitous HAPPY FACE..
and maybe a furry little PUSSY....ah he's so cuuuute.

Ya know this stuff sort of curls nicely...you know where I'm goin' with this don'tcha?

Hmmm...maybe something uber-Canadian
Like the noble MOOSE and a happy little tree by his side.

CHRIS: OK, we've been putting this off long enough -- the whole point was to actually try this delicacy from Oz. So here we go...enough of this...

Ugh...pungent, but I liked it more than Donnnnnnnnn...

DONN: Oh give it here you Mr. wussy-pants. I'll show you how a real man eats VEGEfrickinMITE!!
Holy CRAP!
OH for the love of GAWD! What the hell is that? It tastes like a mixture of petrol and Platypus Cloaca...Wiki MONOTREMES if you need an explanation.

Oh sh*t..((Rrrrraaaalllppphhhh))CHRIS: OK, if only because Stace is pregnant, I LOVED IT! (Ugh)

DONN: No offence, Stace, but not so much...

You know this might be useful for making repairs?

We could touch up the caulking around the terlet.

This door hinge is kinda squeaky..what the hell WHY NOT?
There that's better.

CHRIS: Well, finally, it happened. Donnnnnnn and I finally got together for the big VEGEMITE NITE.

All we can do is thank the incredible Stace for this opportunity for ("THE SPREAD," Donn says) but I say for this opportunity to experience something truly of Oz. Donnnnnnn and I will come up with something truly Canuckley soon...

Donnnnnnnnn yells "Thanks Stace!!!"

O Christmas Tree...O CHRISTMAS TREE!!!

Well, I was supposed to get together with Birthday Boy/Now Seedless Sac Master Homo Escapeons (or whatever he calls himself nowadays) on Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday.

It didn't happen.

For one reason or another on his side or mine, we could not meet. He couldn't get over here, or I couldn't get over there.

He could not visit to indulge in Stace's vegemite from Australia for a totally excellent blog post, to consume rye and pepsi's, horse doovruhs, pictures of him and his gone gonads, peanuts and smoked oysters and Phase 10.

And then, despite the best laid plans for me to head over to his place Saturday and to get beautiful hugs from his lovely lady-wife, who spoils me every time I go over there, I had to stay here to chaperone my son and his girlfriend.

He and I always know that we will meet soon and we'll have a testosterone-laden good time. On top of that, we'll simultaneously solve all the world's problems.

But circumstances didn't permit that to happen these last few days. It will.

In the meantime, though, another dominant force invaded my otherwise lonely, single tranquility this weekend. I had my kids with me.

And while the testosterone is always flying around uncontrollably when my now drama-driven 17-year-old son is here, the other "her"mones of my 20-year-old daughter more or less crowd out us two males.

And around Christmas, my daughter dominates even more than usual.

She's a very take-charge sort of girl, but that's not so unlike intelligent women that make the world go round. She's crazy about Christmas.

She's always been the one to kick me in the butt and insist the Christmas tree be erected on the first weekend in December that I have my kids.

And of course what that means is I get to do all the boring bull-work, then she flits in later to add all the decorative flair.

And that's what this post is all about.

So in this particular year, I found that the stand for my totally fake Christmas tree was more challenging than Christmases past.

Maybe this is saying something about my sex life as I age, but erecting a tall, straight tree is all about having a secure stand and base to begin with. It's all about putting the screws in the right holes, so to speak.

And there was a particular difficulty with that this year. Shall we call it "erectile dysfunction?"

After much fiddling around with my equipment through the use of pliers and other artificial aids to line up all the appropriate holes to align them properly with the screws, I finally got the dang thing more or less ready.

You can see the complications. I'm not talking about one screw and one hole. I'm talking about four screws and, altogether, 16 orifices. But eventually, I got them all to line up.

As you can see, my son was incredibly helpful.

Anyway, I finally got everything into the proper receptacles, which then allowed me to finally insert the tree into the stand.

But was my bullish work accomplished? No.

Then I had to adorn the tree with lights, which my daughter refuses to do. This was a two-day process, by the way. Erecting the tree and putting the lights on it was Day 1, Saturday.

So after Day 1, this was my progress.

What follows is Day 2. Once Queen Sheba decided it suited her to actually put the decorations on, she was all business. She even deigned that I could record her doing so.

She even was agreeable to being one of Bob's Beauties (Bob Barker of the Price is Right) in one of those goofy poses...

Here are some other Christmas decorations she did in my apartment...

Oh, and what about my son? Well, he slept through most of it. Then he woke up and asked me to make him a bacon and cheese omelette.

Merry Christmas!

My heart's beating BIG for him...

I'm sorry, I really thought I would have the power to avoid this blatant parental pride and overwhelming joy for my son.

But I can't.

I was blown away on Wednesday night by Evan's performance as Charlie Brown in his high school presentation of the musical You're a Good Man Charlie Brown. He blew my socks off. And other peoples' too.

Suffice to say, school endeavours have never been his strong point. But the kid's a keeper when he finds something he likes. And acting and singing are what he likes.

His drama teacher raves about him. The choir teacher is begging him to join her class because he has an "excellent voice." Whatever.

The important thing is that he had a huge, huge smile after his nervous nellie debut. So those two years of singing lessons I put him through have, at least partly paid off. My heart's beating strong for him.

Here are some images, as badly as they were taken without a flash.