Comments by farmerart (page 12)

Horny ol' Bill Clinton should be posting here on tuscl. Guaranteed that he would have stories to beat most of what we horndogs have experienced with 'willing' women.

@joker44, No apologies necessary. My thoughts about this topic are the same as yours. It was very interesting to read of other guys' food experiences.

Pamela Ritchie BNN (Canadian business channel) This woman has the cool haughty upper class elegance that usually repulses me. However, Pamela asks such stupid questions and makes so many dim witted observations that I could easily see her going a round or two with my good pal, Mr. Wood

@Slick, I had a gorgeous Chianina steak on an Italian vacation; it just wasn't as good as my brother's Wagyu.

She would have to know how to spell 'Bordeaux' properly before I would give her a sniff.

Spoke to my brother on the phone last night and told him of Wagyu becoming a discussion topic on a strip club site. He laughed and said any 'word of mouth' advertising is OK with him. He wanted to know why I didn't give names of addresses of the steakhouses selling his steaks.

@mikeya02, I agree with you that Wagyu is way overpriced at the retail level. If I didn't have the family connection to Wagyu beef I wouldn't pay the retail price either. I will tell you that it is streets and miles the best beef that I have ever eaten. It pains me to say that. My father raised champion Hereford cattle back in his day and I always thought that the steaks from Dad's animals couldn't be beaten. Rib eyes from Dad's Herefords were better than any Italian Chianina or French Charolais that I sampled. Then I had a thick rib eye from one of my brother's Wagyu..................an orgasmic experience.

How do you know about Wagyu anyway, steve229? One of the steakhouses that features my brother's Wagyu charges $150 for a small 200g (approx 6oz) steak. A large cut of 750g (approx 24oz) goes for $550. Those prices are for meat only. A la carte menu at that particular steakhouse. Even with your $350K salary that is mighty expensive steak.

A Wagyu rib eye is such a flavourful unctuous cut of meat that it would overpower a Pinot Noir. It happens that I have a brother who raises Wagyu cattle so I am lucky enough to enjoy that glorious meat on a regular basis. I have learned that a big, bold, brassy Bordeaux is the way to go when you are eating a grand piece of Wagyu. Whenever I do myself a Wagyu rib eye I always pull a bottle of Latour or a bottle of Petrus from my wine cellar as the accompaniment. If you twist my arm I would pick the Chateau Latour ahead of the Chateau Petrus. It is a bit more robust than the Petrus.

It happens in the Alberta oil patch, too. Many years ago I went on a tour of some recently purchased oil leases. I was astonished to come across a competitor's rig being set up on a piece of land that I controlled. The hole hadn't been started but much of the prep had been made - top soil stripped to the side, gravel laid down, pipe stacked, equipment in place soon ready to go. I was as angry as a hive of disturbed hornets but I couldn't convince the drilling crew that they were on the wrong property. This was before cell phone coverage in the Alberta boonies so I had to hightail it to the closest town to get to a telephone to call the head office of the intruding company. It took many forceful words on my part to get the intruding company to send out its surveyor to see what was happening. The matter was finally resolved (with even a few extra dollars in my pocket). It cost the intruding company about $100K to make matters right and I learned the name of one of the most incompetent surveyors in my industry. I did finally drill 2 good wells on that piece of land but not at the particular site where the intruding company was setting up.

My favourite club in Alberta is The Rig Pig in Nisku. Scenes from a really crappy movie called 'Fubar 2' were shot in the club. The movie club was called 'Peelerz' and the film crew prepared signs and backdrops to match the club's movie name. Ownership of The Rig Pig kept all this movie stuff after shooting of the film was finished and tried to rebrand the club as 'Peelerz'. Regular customers of the club are having nothing to do with this. Oil patch guys wear the name 'rig pig' with pride and we will go to our graves calling the club by its proper name - The Rig Pig Club; whatever new name that club ownership tries to attach to the old joint.

@shadowcat, Just a small greenhouse for starting seeds to be set out later in the garden - cabbage, brussels sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and tomatoes. I fire up the heat in the greenhouse in February, shut off the heat mid May. No gardener to look after things during my absences though my neighbour's wife keeps an eye on things while I'm away, mostly to water all the herb pots on my lower verandah. My fruit orchard consists of saskatoons, high bush cranberries, choke cherries, raspberries, apples, and a strawberry bed. All are hardy to the Alberta climate and require little maintenance. I mulch the strawberries with straw to keep the weeds down. An automatic drip irrigation system keeps the trees happy with moisture. The vegetable garden is mostly root crops - carrots, parsnips, potatoes, beets, radishes, garlic, onions, turnips, rutabagas or the late maturing cruciferous family - cabbage, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, kohlrabi. I do go crazy with tomatoes - I had 60 plants this year of 45 different varieties. I grow some broccoli, peas, and beans but I am often away at the harvest peak for those veggies so that produce will go to waste. Same straw mulch for weed control and same automatic drip irrigation system that I turn on when I am away. I freeze and preserve much of my produce or put it away in my root cellar (potatoes, carrots, apples, beets, cabbage, etc.). I also give away lots of my produce to the local food bank. I took about 200kg of tomatoes to the food bank 3 weeks ago, for example. It is not the perfect way to tend to a garden but it works for me.

Bless you, slick, for this topic. All the discussions about fast food joints almost make me weep. That type of food is dreck. I was raised on an isolated farm that was almost 100% self sufficient in food - beef, dairy, poultry, pork, vegetables, most fruit, grains. My Mom even went to the trouble to mill flour for bread and baking from the wheat that my Dad grew. I still yearn for the sweet taste of freshly churned butter. Fresh fruit in the winter was problematic; that was purchased in a store in town. That era of glorious food all ended for me went I left home to go to work. For the next 4 decades I lived mostly on lousy camp food or meals from small town greasy spoons. One summer when I was just starting my first company I lived in my truck to save on camp fees. I bathed (infrequently) in streams or sloughs and I ate peanut butter sandwiches or bologna sandwiches for 5 months straight. Ugh! My stomach still churns at that horrific memory. When I finally settled at Rancho farmerart I vowed to put all that crap food into the past. I built a restaurant quality kitchen in my house and I use it regularly. I enjoy cooking and I have become an excellent cook. My garden provides me with great produce and I have easy access to local supplies of excellent chicken, pork, and beef. Much of my cooking is of the 'down home' style that my Mom fed her family when I was growing up. However, I am adventurous when it comes to cuisines. I will try anything and if I like it, I will attempt to replicate it in my own kitchen. Whenever I travel I always seek out highly regarded restaurants in whatever city I may visit. The Michelin Guide is not to be scorned. I have had some divine meals in Sweden, England, France, USA, and Canada. I am also willing to try the 'street' foods wherever I travel; even 'street' food will always beat Micky D's crap. This weekend is Thanksgiving in Canada. I am alone at Rancho farmerart this weekend but I will be making myself a grand dinner all the same. Roast chicken (free range raised by a neighbour); sausage stuffing (fresh Berkshire pork raised nearby); roasted garlic mashed Yukon Gold potatoes; creamed pearl onions with sage; buttered fingerling carrots; warm salad of brussels sprouts leaves and tomatoes. Dessert will be an apple crisp made with my own Harcourt apples. All veggies from the garlic to the herbs came from my garden. Happily, food in the exploration camps of my industry is infinitely better than it was when I was starting work. Unhappily, greasy spoon food in DirtyAss, Alberta is still awful. Thank heavens for the little fridge in the F-150.

My high school years were pure misery. No girl friends and lots of fights with the guys. I have made no attempt to reconnect with any of my former high school classmates. I hope to live long enough to piss on their graves.

I don't get it. Explain, please:)

My 3 year run with Toronto sweetie ended last February when she retired to open a womens' clothing store. She had been an extras girl for 15-20 years at Toronto area clubs. As part of her campaign to get me to invest in her goofy business idea she showed me the recent statements from her various investment accounts where she had been socking away her cash. I was gobsmacked when I saw this. She had 4 accounts......a simple savings account, an account with guaranteed investment certificates (laddered according to maturity dates), and 2 mutual funds accounts. All 4 accounts were with Canada's largest bank and, in total, added up to almost $500K. Sweetie had no knowledge whatsoever about investments. Obviously she just did whatever her bank branch had recommended. But, sweetie had the discipline to save regularly over her working career. To the best of my knowledge sweetie was drug free (save for alcohol) and loser BF free. A single mutual fund was the star of sweetie's various accounts. It was a mutual fund investing in Canada's blue chip dividend paying companies. That single mutual fund was over $200K of sweetie's net worth. Over the last 20 years that damn fund averaged a return of 11.3%. I didn't give sweetie a nickel for her business. She dumped me. I haven't a clue how she is doing now.

@motorhead, Move to Alberta. You will net more of your paltry $350K. Chances are that you will also be in line for a hefty raise from that measly $350K that you are making now.

Stay away from those oily disgusting little things in a can. Stick with the fresh raw lovelies, freshly shucked and eaten with the oyster liquor and some horseradish. Royal Miyagis from British Columbia and Malpeques from Prince Edward Island are my favourites. I have no idea if they add lead to your pencil; I just like the taste.

'........no lay away plans, either.' says Nomi, the stripper. Does any other monger find this quote as hilarious as I do?

Who eats cereal for breakfast?

farmerart as a horseman, steve229? Yuck! The horsemen are not universally revered out here in western Canada.

A foodie is any person who eats food.

Aah........the stunning parochialism of Americans. For 95% of the world's population it is American music, including rock, that is foreign.

Magazines: Daily Oil Bulletin Oil & Gas Journal The Economist Canada's History Books: Body Work, Sara Paretsky The History of the Second World War, Basil Liddell Hart Interesting to see that a couple of my fellow tusclers are reading Bukowski. I have never read any of his works but many friends have recommended that I add Bukowski to my reading list. If he is good enough for tusclers I really should try one of his novels.

It seems to me that all music is derivative. Just as there is no immaculate conception, no style of music sprang forth from some composer's brain with no influence from whatever music has gone before. Listen to the great works of Wagner, Hayden, Beethoven, Verdi, Lizst, Bach, Strauss. Listen to folk songs from the middle ages. Listen to liturgical music from the dark ages. Listen to music from ancient Asia. Lyrics change. Instruments change. Techniques change. Human auditory organs change only at the slow pace of evolution. Middle C sounded the same to caveman farmerart as Middle C sounds to 21st Century farmerart.