All posts by djones

Country Bob’s Joes

The people at Country Bob’s sent me a couple of bottles of their wonderful All Purpose Sauce a while ago and last week I finally got a chance to do some experimental cooking with it. After trying a few of the dishes from their recipe book, it was time to begin adapting my cooking to it. The first thing I had to try was a new version of the old Sloppy Joe standby. It came out great, so here it is:

Dan’s Country Bobified version of the Sloppy Joe:

1 lb. ground hamburger
1 chopped green pepper
1 chopped medium onion
2 cups chopped/diced tomatoes with juice
1 tablespoon spicy brown mustard
1/2 cup County Bob’s All Purpose Sauce
salt, pepper, garlic powder, and chili powder to taste

Brown the hamburger and onion in a fry pan, adding in the chopped peppers about half-way through the browning. When the meat is browned completely, drain and then stir in the tomatoes and juice, the mustard, the Country Bob’s All Purpose Sauce, a dash of salt and pepper and a bit of chili powder and garlic powder. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for about 20 minutes until the liquid from the tomatoes has mostly evaporated. Serve over a half-bun or home made bread slice as an open face sandwich with dill pickles and chopped onion for a garnish. Definitely tasty.

When I made this, I used some frozen diced tomatoes from Mom’s garden that I had in the freezer. Some other variants that are tempting me is to replace the tomatoes with a can of either diced tomatoes with jalapeño peppers for a spicy version and diced tomatoes with habanero peppers for a blazing hot version. (Diced tomatoes with jalapeño peppers and diced tomatoes with habanero peppers are available in the Mexican foods section of most grocery stores.)

If you try this or any variants, let me know.

BTW, I just checked the Country Bob’s site and you can now sign up for a free bottle of Country Bob’s All Purpose Sauce for yourself, another family member, and a friend. With a triple freebie like that, how can you go wrong? Just click on the link above and follow the directions.

Five People …

Once again it is time for Friday High Five courtesy of Angela.

Five People From This Week That I’m Pretty Sure I Won’t Meet In Heaven (or even Limbo)
  • The idiot who persists in calling here showing the (illegal) fake caller id of  1-558-4 so I can’t file a report with the FCC. Never anyone on the other end and they never leave a message either. Another telemarketeer gone bad.
  • The lady with three dogs who wanted to shirk poop patrol in the park today. We (the city) dispense poop cleanup bags for free in several locations in the park and yet this dipstick let her dogs poop and started to walk off. It *was* kind of amusing to watch her face when I asked if she hadn’t forgot something. She started to huff no rather indignantly and then recognized me; suddenly she decided to perform poop patrol. {*grin*} I didn’t have the heart to let on that I meant the glove she had dropped on the ground.
  • The young gentleman who answered his mothers phone and promised to give her the message that yes I would indeed once more read at the elementary school as part of Monday’s Read Across America, the celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday. Today, more than a week later, his mom called to see what happened and why I wasn’t reading this year. Fortunately, all will end well and I’ll be there Monday. (Theodore Geisel (Dr. Seuss) is a fellow alumni of Dartmouth College and someone I actually met in the flesh while in college. I love reading Dr. Seuss to a class of kids!)
  • The person walking in front of me at Wally World last night with pants riding so low that all were involuntarily exposed to her nether regions. I really didn’t need to know what style (thong) and color (bright red) of underwear she was wearing. I was deeply afraid that she would turn around and face me and that I would learn that she had piercings in a rather private area. They were *that* low. I just wanted to buy my milk and leave without being scared forever by that sight. This would have been much preferable:
  • The person who decided that early in the morning was a good time to park in the alley behind the house and carry on a loud conversation with himself while the radio blared. I suspect it was my nearly deaf neighbor, so maybe I can forgive this transgression. But it sure sounded and felt a bit like this:

So what’s on your list for today?

My First Car

Tragic Aside: Today was a sad day in Colorado as the Rocky Mountain News announced its own death effective with the Friday edition. It would have been the Rocky’s 150th birthday in a just a few weeks. The Rocky was the first published newspaper in Denver. Now Denver becomes a one daily paper town; only the Denver Post continues on. R.I.P. Rocky Mountain News.

Today I have decided to do The First Car Meme from kitten at The Bookkitten. It was part of “Make Your Own Meme Monday” sponsored by The Scattered Mind of a Tattooed Minivan Mom.


1. What was your first car?
My first car was a 1961 Chevy Biscayne Station Wagon. It cost $325 in 1970 when I bought it used.
2. How did you acquire said car?
I bought it with money saved from working summers and on weekends during school. It was at the end of my Sophomore year of high school and I had to pay for my own insurance as well (although there were times Mom and Dad kicked in some bucks as well).
There is nothing like having a football game to play in on Friday night located a 3 hour oneway bus ride down the road, getting home at 3am in the morning and then having to be at work at the truck stop at 7am Saturday so you can afford to have a car. It did make me a firm believer in kids paying for their own car and insurance. Responsibility can be a great thing and knowing how hard you are working for it really makes you value it. BTW, the car cost $325 in 1970 when the minimum wage was $1.60 and I made $1.92 because I could do electrical work on vehicle wiring. And for the piece de la resistance: gas was $0.20 a gallon.
3. Were you involved in choosing the car?
All me. Then dragging Mom to see it and convincing my Grandpa P to at least nod OK on the mechanical condition.
4. Did you go on any road trips?
No further than Denver and environs. Once or twice to Casper, Wyoming as well.
5. Did you ever get into an accident in the car?
No accidents. Several periods of foot travel when I couldn’t afford to repair things like the engine.
6. Did you use the car for any–ahem–“romantic activities”?
It was high school, what do you think?
7. How many miles were you able to put on the car before its demise?
I seem to remember that it had 60,000 miles on it when I bought it. I went through a couple of sets of tires and seat covers, etc. It had well over 100,000 miles on it when I sold it.
8. How did the car meet its demise?
Might still be running. I sold it to a summer job collegue at the end of the summer. (We were working as carpenters and it was ideal for tool transport to the job.) It was still running a couple of years later when last I saw it.
9. Do you miss your first car?
Sometimes, but mainly for the memories. As a car it was pretty basic. AM radio, no air, … And like all station wagons, it tended to be a bit noisy with all the panels rattling. I like my current pickup much better since it sits higher and has better seats (and sound system).
10. Fondest memories of the car?
Need you ask? This is the car I had when I first started dating L. So it had our first date, our first kiss, etc. – all those memories. It is also the car that took me places like the Frontiers of Science Institute and the Colorado Wyoming Junior Academy of Science meetings (I was a V.P. – but it wasn’t an elective office – it was based on placement in the state science fair). It also took me to visit friends I had made in places like Denver and Keenesburg and …

The Best Laid Plans …

In retrospect, I wouldn’t say it was my best idea. It certainly seemed to be a winner at the time. What else could we do with 400 feet of surgical rubber and a carton of eggs? There are, after all, only so many ways to make those two supplies truly entertaining.

It was a lazy Friday afternoon in the middle of the term. A friend who was off from school for the term and working in a hospital supply warehouse had sent a us a care package. Classes were over for the day and the gathering ennui of what to do for Friday afternoon fun was affecting us all. When we opened the care package and found a reel of surgical rubber – you know, the kind that is real stretchy – we all got ideas and that devilish glow in the eyes that precedes any questionable plan. It took but a moments consideration to see that we had adequate rubber to string between the trees in the front yard of the house. The really fortuitous part was that the aim was perfect for the Beta house across the street.

Now you need a piece of background. The Beta guys were our natural enemies just due to proximity. Our fraternity was co-ed and had gone the independent route long ago, which really rubbed the Beta guys the wrong way. It was not uncommon that pranks and tricks were exchanged on a daily basis. The last had involved some rather aromatic jars placed in our house. So we were primed for revenge.

Nancy and Cyndi came up with the half carton of boiled eggs and we were set. With a little ingenuity, we created a pouch for our modified slingshot. We could get more than 200 feet of pull, requiring two of us to hold the egg pouch back against the eager pull of the rubber strands. Nelson and Andy served as our gunnery officers to ensure good aim. The first shot went astray, missing the university presidents house by mere inches. Andy was immediately replaced by Thomas and adjustments made. The second shot spatted rather dramatically on the brick of the Beta house. With just a little more correction of our aim, we were ready for the fateful third shot. It was a direct hit on the window at one end of the Beta house.

Just so you understand, a boiled egg at that velocity punches an oval hole in the glass without breaking the pane. But, the egg then immediately disintegrates, spraying egg bits in a cloud throughout the room. Leaving few symptoms of what really happened until the egg starts rotting in a few days. It was like watching an anthill explode as the people came streaming out of the house and looked around confusedly to see what had made the bang. They never even thought to wonder what we were doing with the reel of rubber tubing behind our backs across the street. It took them almost a day to finally spot the oval hole in the window. Come spring, both houses would be hoisting water balloons at each other via surgical rubber slingshots. After the painful effort that the Beta guys went through to get rid of the rotting egg odor, a non-aggression pact of sorts had been forged: No More Eggs.

And that is how I attempted to make the world a better place. By egg bombing the Betas in an exploit that joined the lore of both houses and led to the first non-aggression pact.

This is my response to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Challenge. Head on over and read the challenge and visit the linky sites.

Google, Sex, and Me

Now that I have your attention, …

One of the things I find interesting is that the searches bringing people to this blog seem to be tad different than the ones reported by bloggers of the female persuasion. Blogger after female blogger reports that their blog is being found by numerous sex related searches. That certainly isn’t happening here and I feel really left out and undesirable. This blog is like the shy girl with a crush at the middle school dance as far as Google goes. All that desperate desire for attention, but Google only has eyes for others.

For your amusement, here are the top 10 search terms that have caused Google to deposit people here:

  1. grammar rap
  2. “russian woman” “she bit”
  3. 1936a811f775436384fe7b5e0582814f38e…
  4. blood test mpg
  5. broke my brother out of hospital
  6. dentist allergic to color
  7. dentists for dental avoiders
  8. don’t panic eau de toilette men
  9. favorite winter memories
  10. finger turns black and blue from finger prick

Grammar rap is an obvious fit for my post extolling the joys of sistersalad and their wonderful “Yo Comments Are Whack!” video. Blood test mpg is clearly a hit for my diabetes post. I can even see some relevance in several other of the terms. But where does the string of hexadecimal digits came from and why am I a match? I figure it must be a search from a double-byte language set, maybe Chinese? Whatever it is, it seems to be popular. Maybe that is where all my sex queries went. (That’s it, I have a horde of hot blooded Chinese women performing secret sex acts via my blog. I’m down with that!)

And how about “don’t panic eau de toilette men”? I can see how it might drop some poor schmuck or schmuckette into my Five Things I Know But My Dog Doesn’t Know I Know post, but I suspect that Google left its followers deeply unsatisfied and in need of the extra kick of eau de toilette when it happened. And I have to ask, why would one panic about men and eau de toilette? Do all men really smell that bad? Have we all joined Molly in drinking at the porcelain goddess’ fount? Inquiring minds want to know.

So I continue on, deeply disappointed that the lowlifes of the world aren’t looking for and finding my blog via Google. I want the unfettered joy of being able to write humorous posts on the spur of the moment about the odd contortions necessary to achieve a chosen search term. Besides, I can use all the readers I can get! {*grin*}