Geez, the way you Americans mangle the English language ... Mind you, we pronounce Cholmondely and Worcestershire strangely

But back to surreality ...

Last night I dreamt that I met Gordon Ramsay walking out of the kitchen at RHR. I told him I was surprised to see him, and he promptly sat at my table and started to chat. I told him how much I enjoyed eating at Aubergine after he had left, and he was thrilled. Mark Askew then came over to the table and Gordon iintroduced me to him and we taleked about Angela Hartnett. Ramsay was charming, eloquent and amusing, until ... I woke up realising that I need to get a life.

I think this belongs on the Last Night I Dreamed thread, and members could offer psychological evaluations. Surely this is better than dreaming you licked the mascara off of Tammy Faye Baker's eyes so she'd be ready for her close-up. (Er, f'rinstance.)

For the past few days, the ad that keeps appearing on Chowhound is for Lane Bryant.

Marc Bouwer's line of "cruelty-free" fashions apparently doesn't include keeping his emaciated models from starving themselves.

it means he's emerged from the straight-curious stage.

i know a bit about what happens in india..cows/bulls after their time will be herded across state borders because crossing into the other state makes the slaughter legal..while the slaughterhouses in the neighbouring state arent..they are transported in open trucks called lorries..ideally 6-7 can fit into a lorry..as many as 30-40 will be stuffed into one vehicle. the animals will be tied together..if one trips, the rest fall...crushin the others... causing fractures, suffocation...when chilli powder is rubbed into their eyes, they are blinded and they are paralysed with fear ...hot water is thrown on them while they are still alive so that they can be skinned. my mother works with blue cross and they rescue these animals...with donations one can take care of an animal until its lifetime. where i used to live, there was no blue cross, but there were plenty of other associations that did the same job. the jains run massive ghoshalas or cow sanctuaries for rescued cows. more than cash, political clout helps to make changes in india...a couple of years ago, they rescued a number of camels that were walked down from up north for a religious feast. can you imagine..there were camels walking down the busiest roads with a board hanging over them...20 rs/kilo. they will be paraded until the entire camel is purchased and its full cost is covered....kilo by kilo...

yes, the way animals are treated in india is beyond appalling.

gandhi once noted: "the greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated".

How did Ghandi feel about the suffering of models?

i was wondering about that too.

i think he didn't care much as long as they could spell his name.

let me see...nope, don't care.

i just got a pm from someone convinced that faustianbargain and i are the same person.

But of course. How could there be more than one Indian with an aversion to upper case.

and has said " I am young and english is not my first language"


eta MJ and FB both said these exact words

And who has the professional expertise to perhaps write in different voices.

And who has a mischievous tendency.

And if you look at post day/time of both posters you may perhaps see some correlation.

rose, please, don't embarass yourself further. this is the source of faustianbargain's quip about being young and english not being her first language:

Let me worry about embarassing myself. I have a lot of experience at it. Interesting choice of quote to re-post, eh?

Well, Mongo, I, for one, have never seen you and FB at the same place at the same time.

Ya see!!!!!

I think when the personalities split one of them got the sense of humor.

oh, you got me.

i'm also guglhupf, by the way. it was taking too much effort to maintain that persona so i sent her off to a job in prague. also, if anyone's been wondering about the disappearance of nerow, well, what can i say? mother didn't like her.

i dont know what to say. it's more complicated than that. mongo is my twin..but he never developed internal organs or limbs. he is the lump on my back and he WONT STOP TALKING. he is always..always..in my head. sometimes, he takes over my brain and the keyboard.

I'm Brian of Nazareth.

Looks like I will be seeing the Gugster in April. Let's see if mongo can post while she's sitting in a cafe with me.

people like you are the easiest to fool.

I'm Brian. And so's my wife.

i am also rose, of course. no, you shut up!

A rose by any other name...

On the subway a panhandler: "Ladies, my wife died so I'm single."

did you say your name was mongo rose?

All this avatar dosey-do is really fucking with my head. But you will not see Marlene Dietrich gazing coolly from beneath my name.

No, we know you are a cute l'il boy.

Mongo weeps like a girl when you tell him you love him and Faustian asks if you brought cigarettes. Very different.

If you look really closely you'll see that Mongo is covered in dog hair but Faustian is covered in cat hair.

Faustian's cats don't eat their own poop, either.

And I am Spartacus.

I am the walrus.

I am Mrs Norman Maine!

and i am mongo jones.

no wait..mongo jones is faustianbargain.

wait..can i be rose too?

Just wait'll I sprout chest hairs! And learn to say "guanciale"!

I knew I could rely on you people!

Slightly surreal to e-mail a major magazine wanting to do a story on a sexy farmer, with my list of recommendations and reasons for them. But fun. Definitely fun.

Well, I'd been in taxis before, but when I was close to his age, I was in NY on a buying trip. It was June, hot and humid. I remember having on what I considered a fabulous pale linen outfit. I stepped into the cab at my hotel, and sat down. On the floor. One of those stupid super-long-but-not-limosine cabs. The back seat was some 10 inches behind me. The driver asked, "Where to, miss?", turned his head, saw me on the floor and said, "Oh, Christ!" My outfit and I were both crushed.

sitting around with three friends in suits and ties on a Sat for lunch after going to a career fair. It was weird sitting w/people in full business attire- practice for the real world. We decided that job fairs are like halloween- everyone dresses up and you go around to different places, only instead of getting candy you get pamphlets. And of course it's much less fun.

Also surreal, someone was wearing black seemed stockings with a cuban heal. A little inappropriate for conservative interview-wear, don't you think? Especially since she was wearing them with a brown suit.

Are they like the Filipino faith healers who grab a hunk of lamb and pretend it's your disease?

I have a question? That 110 inches of snow in New York? Are those, like, 110 VERTICAL or HORIZONTAL inches?

Is this the clueless questions thread?