New Neighbor Highlights

[this post may disturb senstitive stomaches] it did mine momentarialy (read, for about 10 minutes)

Since I have no COOKING news, I do however have a new set of neighbors as of today. Earlier this evening as I was finishing up my culinary resume I heard this oldster yabbering about not being able to open the door to the room next door with his plastic key card. I felt compelled to help, opened my door and showed him how to use it. He thanked me and he and his antique buddy entered room 207 (next to room 206 which is mine.)

As you may recall in previous emails, I occasionally mention the antics and bothersomeness of my temporary (but miserable) "neighbors".

I could only guess what my little buddies next door were here for. My thoughts followed this line of thinking: a) A funeral b) A class reunion of 8 remaining members or c) An organ donor party.

Neighbor 'A' was the key challenged fellow and neighbor 'B' is the dottering dear I'm worried about. Minimally worried I should add.

Not long after occupying their "suite" (after all, I have the exact layout, therefore it must be a sweet at the Oasis Inn) I was BLOWN away by the noise next door. As I have said previously, these walls are made from spit and toilet paper. There is NO insulation whatsoever. What can only be described as a serious health issue demanding immediate review by the Board of Health, was that I heard neighbor B (yeah, I could make distin-stink-tion from the sound of their voices) literally blow his entire intestinal flora at one moment in time. I'm calling this a medical case of Hat Raising Flatulence! The sound reverbrated throughout the building I'm sure as my room was clearly twanging from the explosion.

I think it did toss him off the throne. He started coughing up a lung immediately afterward. I started, as frantic as I possibly could, to light matches on my side of the wall. I did not want a scratch and sniff episode. I indeed think his continued tuberculotic coughing and eventual hurling was just a symptom of the initial balast broach.

It was astonishing. If not for its initial shocking value, I would not have considered blogging this unfortunate incident except for the previous mentioned fact that there is nothing culinary to blog about.

I think I can almost hear you also privately wishing my cooking classes were occupying my time again. Not so. I have 5 more weeks of paying attention to whom they allow in Room 207. Until cooking resumes, I give you farewell. I'm just a tool of my circumstances at this point.

Think good thoughts for me....and read the next 5 weeks of blogging with a tsp of sugar (or salt)