Friday's fish fry at Blessed Breading Parish was a hoot and a half. The Pepino Posse is growing, as Inginiera joined the clan Pepino, Pastores Lama and Obeja (and daughter Lana), Contadora (her tan fading as tax deadline approaches), and her husband/ my euchre partner, Calificador.
I think Ingeniera ordered baked and then went up for seconds of fried, so we don't have a finger on her political persuasion. We know she is gainfully employed, attends church services regulary, and drives sensibly, so she surely isn't one of them. Then again, who knows; a wealthy landlord once accused Pepino Suave of being one of those. Ironic, if you follow me. I've been accused of being one of them and one of those, depending on what part of the state I was at the time. Go figger.
Anyway, Inginiera's politics isn't the topic here, fish is (are?). The Catholic Icelandic Cod was some of the best I've ever sampled. Go Lent.
See you next week by the dessert table...
Porque poco cocos como, poco cocos compro,
Compa' Pepinito
1 comment:
I know how you feel being one of them and thoose. Only I get called: one of dem and one of dose in the taverns.
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