Bleakness on West Lynn: the scrumpy washroom at one of Austin’s premier face-stuffing destinations.
Sometimes Jeffrey’s is the best restaurant in Austin, so the fam took me there for my birthday the other day. Despite the fact that super-weird appetite-supressant/Texas Lt. Guv David Dewhurst was sitting a throwed roll away, I ate everything.
There were fried oyster nachos, which are storied and rightly so. These oysters appear to have mass, but are in fact composed of imaginary filaments, and as such are completely unaffected by gravity, and so must be swatted into the mouth as they float by.
Then there was “chilled sweet pea soup” with a smoked shrimp floating in it. The pea soup part was frivolous, ethereal spiffiness-in-a-bowl, but I swore the shrimp was foot-funky, like a shrimp that has been rode hard and put away wet altogether more often than is recommended by today’s shrimpsperts. Stingray tested this suspect derelict shrimp and declared that I had my head up my ass. The specimen, she averred, was an upstanding representative of its species. It had probably won awards for citizenship and philshrimpopy. We should be throwing it a goddam tickertape parade, according to Stingray, instead of casting these baseless aspersions.
It turns out that even 3 weeks out of chemo, my tastebuds still can’t be trusted around certain crustaceans.
Then there were a couple of lamb chops with a cherry sauce, which were sadly sort of tough, but still way better than the frozen pizza I would have had if I’d stayed home, and some corn pone, which was poney, and finally a meyer lemon custard with a birthday candle in it, which you see above, and some tawny port. Can I get a hell-yeah for some tawny port to take the edge off a 2-hour dinner with the fam?
Then I went to the bathroom. For a joint where you can spend $150 a person without even breaking a sweat, the can at Jeffrey’s is pretty Soviet.
I am 47. Hip fuckin hooray.
Restaurant toilets are so unpredictable. The nicest one in town here in Hilo is in a taqueria-cum pizza joint favored by lonely old white guys. Next time I’m in there I’ll take a pic of it for you.
Well, hell yeah, and happy fucking birthday Ms. Faster! Hope you keep having lots of them, because lawd knows, we need you to lead us in the ass kicking and the blaming. Oh, and that meyer lemon custard looks divine, and served with an orchid, no less. Cheers!
HELL YEAH
47. To be so YOUNG
47 is the dawn of Twisty time.
Happy Birthday dear child.
Happy Birthday, homeslice. Everybody’s allowed to throw a roll at a lieutenant governish asswipe for their birthday, after all. When he turns back around, hit him with a smoked shrimp.
Happy Birthday Twisty!
norbiz said it all. happy birthday!
Many happy returns of the day. And may all your public cans be happy ones.
You made it to 47?
Happy birthday blamer!
I love you, Twisty Faster. You’re my (slightly little) sister and I love you. Rock on.
I am blaming as I type……….NOW!
……Happy BIRRRRRTHday dear Twisteeeeeeee,
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy happy happy. More port!
That bathroom is truly a disgrace! It’s the Hi=Pointe bar mentality: If those fuckers wanted a nice bathroom, they shouldn’t ought to have used it.
Happy birthday!
Happy birthday to one of my favorite fucking people I’ve never met.
Mmm. I am drinking tawny port now, as it turns out :) Cheers and happy birthday to the best patriarchy blamer and dinner critic on the Internet!
Happy birthday!
And bonus points for mentioning the throwed rolls. I got hit in the head with one of them things once.
Happy birthday to the blamer we rely on to keep our blaming radar in perfect working order.
awards for citizenship and philshrimpopy
citizenshrimp?
oh happy day for you…
What a birthday present!
Proxy prawn papillae.
Stout fellow, that Stingray.
Many Happy Returns.
Many, many more.
happy happy birthday
to you!!
Too bad you and the family didn’t send our Light Governor a bottle of personality when you found him a mere dinner roll toss away. If he had a sense of joy, he would have bought you a birthday dinner.
But why ruin a good dinner, right?
Happy Birthday, Twisty.
Te amo!
Happy Birthday!
Bon anniversaire ma cheri!
Happy Birthday, Aunty. xoxoxo
~M~
A very happy birthday to you!
the can at Jeffrey’s is pretty Soviet.
Hey!
Hip fuckin hooray, indeed! A very happy birthday to you, Twisto. And dinner with the fam deserves a vat of tawny port in which to swim the backstroke.
Felicitaciones, Twisty! Long may you blame.
BIRTHDAY BUSH
Our bush bloomed, soon dropped
its fuchsia chalices. Rags
on the ground that were luscious
cups and trumpets, promises and brags.
A sprinkle of dark dots showed entry
into each silk cone. Down among
crisp pistils thirsty bumblebees
probed. Buds flared in a bunch
from tender stems. Sudden
vivid big bouquets
appeared just before our birthdays!
A galaxy our burning bush,
blissful explosion. Brief
effusion. Brief as these
words. I sweep away a trash
of crimson petals.
–May Swenson (from In Other Words)
Actually, what seems equally appropriate for Twisty is a birthday song my friend Rachel sings to me every year. She calls, doesn’t announce who she is, and sings; it really works best left on an answering machine.
It’s sung in a minor key:
Happy Birthday, O Happy Birthday.
Pain and sorrow in the air,
People dying everywhere,
O Happy Birthday, O Happy Birthday.
I always erupt in peals of morbid laughter. It cheers me up immensely, but then so does Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Consider yourself phoned.
I absolutely adore your food writing. Fried oysters needing to be “swatted into the mouth as they float by” indeed! This expression on my face right now is a harsh, naked covet.
Happy birthday! Getting older is like some kind of game where getting a high score is something to be proud of. It takes luck and skill to reach the bigger numbers. Congratulations on racking up another one. And congratulations on being able to eat your whole birthday dinner.
Now, normally I’d throw in a chain of smiley emoticons in here to emphasize both my exuberant joy and my sincerity, but for better or worse your website would just turn them into those dopey yellow heads, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Cheers!
Mazel Tov and hell yeahs all ’round! Perhaps April is not the cruellest month after all.
Happy blaming birthday. May you celebrate many, many more.
Hell yeah!
Happy belated birthday, Twisty.
(Loved the ‘throwed rolls’ reference, but did not, in fact, love the actual throwed rolls.)
Happy belated birthday! I, too, was also born on the 8th :)
I’m always late, dammit.
Happy belated birthday, Twisty! You are, in short, my hero. You are everything that I aspire to be; and while I’m pretty fantabulous now, you take the taco.
Here’s to many more years of fine patriarchal blaming!
Another belated birthday wish. Many you have many more filled with good food, good friends and johns a damn sight better than that one.
Happy birthday, youngster. Now I want a Meyer lemon custard.
Did you eat the orchid?
Its very nice to know that, even if I can’t afford to eat at a particular resteraunt, at least I’m not missing anything special in the bathroom.
Cheers!
B. Dagger, !
My family has sung the “pain and sorrow” happy birthday song for about 40 years, and I always assumed it was something my dad and his brothers just made up since it’s so perfectly representative of the Finiquity sense of humor. Now I’m gonna have to find out whence it came.
That pain and sorrow song is a hoot and a half. Thanks!
feliz cumpleaños! Do tell which day is the grand affair so we may pencil it in for next year?
The alien glyphs surrounding the custard are a nice touch.
FamousSovietAthlete:
“the can at Jeffrey’s is pretty Soviet.
Hey!”
I said “pretty”!
Happy birthday! Oh, I looove birthdays. :)
Late to the party as usual! Many felicitations, belated though they be. I, too, enjoy making my family take me out to expensive restaurants for birthday meals. It’s the only way I would have ever gone to the Striped Bass.
Well Twisty, what can I say other than Happy Fucking Birthday. You’re so fine you blow my mind daily. I appreciate you for helping sharpen my mind daily. I can proudly declare myself to be an intermediate patriarchy blamer and so fucking proud of it, too.
Sadly, I checked our love horoscope and we are not a good match.
Oh well… (deal with it)
I just have to continue loving you from afar.
Birthday blessings hitting BLAME??!??!!
Only in Twistyville!!!
Ummmm Huummmmm!!
Happy belated birthday! :)
sorry it’s late, but happy birthday to you from another Woman of a Certain Age. i hope the years to come bring you all the varmints, vittles, and public comfort stations your Twisty heart desires.
Happy Happy Birthday you oh so young woman! Sorry I’m late but sincere good wishes all the same.
A fairly complete lyric. Sorry if someone else posted this already, but any post directly above a Twisty reply disappears on my antiquated browser.
I blame the Gatesriarchy.
Late, but still:
Apio verde tu yu,
Apio verde tu yu…
Congratulations!
I am way late to the party, but Happy Birthday!
Coincidentally, my brother was 47 on April 7, so I’ll say to you what I say to him every year: You’re still older than me! Yay!
belateds from me too, Twisty. Your site provides me with endless opportunities to not write my thesis, clean my house, or prepare meals other than salads…for which I am feeling mighty grateful to ya.
I should have known you were an Aries, Twisty.
Belated best wishes.
These oysters appear to have mass, but are in fact composed of imaginary filaments, and as such are completely unaffected by gravity, and so must be swatted into the mouth as they float by.
Giving away presents on your birthday. That’s so sweet, Twisty.
You rock. Thank you! Best happiest wishes for your birthday and many, many happier wishes and birthdays to come. A toast for you when I next raise a glass. xoxo