Kajira Callista
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redelicious said:
*makes the ick face* what does it taste like?
Southerners
- Thread starter niteshade
- Start date
*makes the ick face* what does it taste like?
redelicious
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Kajira Callista said:
Um....
Honestly on its own I think it tastes like paper, which is why you have to dress it up a bit. It's basically a delivery method for the stuff you put on it, lol.
Kajira Callista
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redelicious said:
lol i think this yankee gal is gonna pass on the grits
redelicious
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Kajira Callista said:
It's an aquired taste.
niteshade
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Actually, I was talking about the Girls Raised In The South... however, we have a whole thread about that here, including the nasty food product itself. (Kajira, good idea on the pass ) https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=179459&highlight=grits
The thread from Writerdom that I was referring to is here: https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=189462
Welcome to the boards, fellow Texan
) https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=179459&highlight=grits The thread from Writerdom that I was referring to is here: https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=189462
Welcome to the boards, fellow Texan
Georgia Girl
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Pure South
Born and raised in the deep southern reaches of GA, lived here most of my life but I have spent a few years in TX, MD, CA, and FL.
Eventually I came back because like the song says "The road leads back to you.......Georgia"
Born and raised in the deep southern reaches of GA, lived here most of my life but I have spent a few years in TX, MD, CA, and FL.
Eventually I came back because like the song says "The road leads back to you.......Georgia"
Lord Crimson
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ChainedEros said:It's rolling baby, it's rolling!!
lol
I couldn't resist that.
I'm quite sure you catch enough hell from Auburn fans.
lol
Rock & ROLL TIDE
Bama born and Raised
We have 17 National Championships - how mant do ya'll have
auburn = that other school down the road - cow patty u
Kajira Callista
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WriterDom said:
*holds back the gag reflex* ya mean like farina?
Kajira Callista
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niteshade said:
lil kinda grainy bally wheat thingy hit cereal
Kajira Callista
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niteshade said:
YES!
Georgia Girl
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Closer to cream of wheat than oatmeal, I've never had farina so I can't comment on that one.
G
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Kajira Callista said:peeks in...just ta see.
Hmmm well Grits are ground Hominy.
ANd you ask- what is hominy?
Kajira Callista
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EKVITKAR said:
Sits for Master E's grits lesson
G
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Kajira Callista said:
*sigh*
Actually, wasn't trying to be pedantic.
But then, I'm the guy that told the wormy looking little health food store clerk that Tofu was great................fried in bacon grease. Kodak moment.
Last edited by a moderator:
redelicious
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EKVITKAR said:
I'm not sure even bacon could make tofu palatable.
*shudder*
G
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redelicious said:
I have found one (precisely one) way that it is ...Hot and sour soup.
Love the stuff.
But I do hear that it works well in chili. Tends to soak up all the hot stuff though so be careful.
Oh and as for grits - hmmm Grits are ground hominy- hominy is treated corn.
Treated with lye, if I remember correctly.
Which is why grits have very little flavor other than what you put in them. The base flavor is that of plain, parched corn.
Hominy however (available canned), is good done with a little butter and salt in the microwave.
WriterDom
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If y'all don't like Dixie, Delta is ready
By Lewis Grizzard
I don't care what they do to the Georgia state flag. They can put a big peach on the thing as far as I'm concerned. They can put Deion Sanders' smiling face on it.
And let it be known that the opponents of the flag, with its reminiscence of the Confederate banner, will bring down that flag.
One way or the other, color it red, white, blue and gone. It's politically incorrect and all the things that are deemed such have no future in this country.
We elected Hillary Rodham Clinton and the ban on the gays in the military will be lifted. It's a done deal. Like it or not, the Georgia state flag has no chance either.
The issue on my mind is white Southerners like myself.
They don't like us. They don't trust us. They want to tell us why we're wrong. They want to tell us how we should change.
They is practically every s.o.b. who isn't one of us.
I read a piece on the op-ed page of the Constitution written by somebody who in the jargon of my past "ain't from around here."
He wrote white Southerners are always looking back and that we should look forward. He said that about me.
I'm looking back? I live in one of the most progressive cities in the world. We built a subway to make Yankees feel at home.
And I live in a region the rest of the country can't wait to move to.
A friend, also a native Southerner, who shares my anger about the constant belittling of our kind and our place in this world, put it this way: "Nobody is going into an Atlanta bar tonight celebrating because they've just been transferred to New Jersey."
Damn straight.
I was having lunch at an Atlanta golf club recently. I was talking with friends.
A man sitting at another table heard me speaking and asked, "Where are you all from?" He was mocking me. He was mocking my Southern accent. He was sitting in Atlanta, Ga., and was making fun of the way I speak.
He was from Toledo. He had been transferred to Atlanta. If I hadn't have been 46 years old, skinny and a basic coward with a bad heart, I'd have punched him. I did, however, give him a severe verbal dressing down.
I was in my doctor's office in Atlanta. One of the women who works there, a transplanted Northerner, asked how I
pronounced the world "siren."
I said I pronounced it "si-reen." I was half kidding, but that is the way I heard the word pronounced when I was a child.
The woman laughed and said, "You Southerners really crack me up. You have a language all your own."
Yeah we do. If you don't like it, go back home and stick your head in a snow bank.
They want to tell us how to speak, how to live, what to eat, what to think and they also want to tell us how they used to do it
back in Buffalo.
Buffalo? What was the score? A hundred and ten to Zip.
The man writing on the op-ed page was writing about that bumper sticker that shows the old Confederate soldier and he's saying, "FERGIT HELL!" I don't go around sulking about the fact the South lost the Civil War. But I am aware that once upon a long time ago, a group of Americans saw fit to rebel against what they thought was an overbearing federal government. There is no record anywhere that indicates anybody in my family living in 1861 owned slaves. As a matter of fact, I come from a long line of sharecroppers, horse thieves and used car dealers. But a few of them fought anyway -- not to keep their slaves, because they didn't have any. I guess they simply thought it was the right thing to do at the time.
Whatever the reason, there was a citizenry that once saw fit to fight and die and I come from all that, and I look at those people as brave and gallant, and a frightful force until their hearts and their lands were burnt away.
I will never turn my back on that heritage.
But know this: I'm a white man and I'm a Southerner. And I'm sick of being told what is wrong with me from outside critics, and I'm tired of being stereotyped as a refugee from "God's Little Acre."
If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, and I'll probably have to say it a thousand times again.
Delta may be hurting financially, but it's still ready to take you back to Toledo when you are ready to go.
-- Published Feb. 5, 1993
By Lewis Grizzard
I don't care what they do to the Georgia state flag. They can put a big peach on the thing as far as I'm concerned. They can put Deion Sanders' smiling face on it.
And let it be known that the opponents of the flag, with its reminiscence of the Confederate banner, will bring down that flag.
One way or the other, color it red, white, blue and gone. It's politically incorrect and all the things that are deemed such have no future in this country.
We elected Hillary Rodham Clinton and the ban on the gays in the military will be lifted. It's a done deal. Like it or not, the Georgia state flag has no chance either.
The issue on my mind is white Southerners like myself.
They don't like us. They don't trust us. They want to tell us why we're wrong. They want to tell us how we should change.
They is practically every s.o.b. who isn't one of us.
I read a piece on the op-ed page of the Constitution written by somebody who in the jargon of my past "ain't from around here."
He wrote white Southerners are always looking back and that we should look forward. He said that about me.
I'm looking back? I live in one of the most progressive cities in the world. We built a subway to make Yankees feel at home.
And I live in a region the rest of the country can't wait to move to.
A friend, also a native Southerner, who shares my anger about the constant belittling of our kind and our place in this world, put it this way: "Nobody is going into an Atlanta bar tonight celebrating because they've just been transferred to New Jersey."
Damn straight.
I was having lunch at an Atlanta golf club recently. I was talking with friends.
A man sitting at another table heard me speaking and asked, "Where are you all from?" He was mocking me. He was mocking my Southern accent. He was sitting in Atlanta, Ga., and was making fun of the way I speak.
He was from Toledo. He had been transferred to Atlanta. If I hadn't have been 46 years old, skinny and a basic coward with a bad heart, I'd have punched him. I did, however, give him a severe verbal dressing down.
I was in my doctor's office in Atlanta. One of the women who works there, a transplanted Northerner, asked how I
pronounced the world "siren."
I said I pronounced it "si-reen." I was half kidding, but that is the way I heard the word pronounced when I was a child.
The woman laughed and said, "You Southerners really crack me up. You have a language all your own."
Yeah we do. If you don't like it, go back home and stick your head in a snow bank.
They want to tell us how to speak, how to live, what to eat, what to think and they also want to tell us how they used to do it
back in Buffalo.
Buffalo? What was the score? A hundred and ten to Zip.
The man writing on the op-ed page was writing about that bumper sticker that shows the old Confederate soldier and he's saying, "FERGIT HELL!" I don't go around sulking about the fact the South lost the Civil War. But I am aware that once upon a long time ago, a group of Americans saw fit to rebel against what they thought was an overbearing federal government. There is no record anywhere that indicates anybody in my family living in 1861 owned slaves. As a matter of fact, I come from a long line of sharecroppers, horse thieves and used car dealers. But a few of them fought anyway -- not to keep their slaves, because they didn't have any. I guess they simply thought it was the right thing to do at the time.
Whatever the reason, there was a citizenry that once saw fit to fight and die and I come from all that, and I look at those people as brave and gallant, and a frightful force until their hearts and their lands were burnt away.
I will never turn my back on that heritage.
But know this: I'm a white man and I'm a Southerner. And I'm sick of being told what is wrong with me from outside critics, and I'm tired of being stereotyped as a refugee from "God's Little Acre."
If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, and I'll probably have to say it a thousand times again.
Delta may be hurting financially, but it's still ready to take you back to Toledo when you are ready to go.
-- Published Feb. 5, 1993
morninggirl5
Secret Dream Machine
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- May 6, 2001
- Posts
- 10,647
Eleven years later and much of what he wrote has happened.
And Delta is still hurting financially but they're still ready.
Lewis Grizzard only made me mad one time, amazing for a newspaper columnist.
And Delta is still hurting financially but they're still ready.
Lewis Grizzard only made me mad one time, amazing for a newspaper columnist.
Sir_Winston54
Assume the position!
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I don't recall Mr. Grizzard ever making me mad, though on rare occasions, I found his topic uninteresting, for the day. However, we lost a great commentator on life in the South when he passed a couple of years ago. I do miss his wry outlook.morninggirl5 said:
As for myself, I was born in <shudder> Chicago, and spent my first seven years in the frigid wastelands of Illinois. When my parents remarried, however, we were soon transferred to Oklahoma, then Italy, Germany, Texas and back to Oklahoma. I then joined the Navy and was stationed in San Diego, off the coast of Viet Nam, and Corpus Christi. Got out, moved to Florida, stayed there for 31 years (Good God, what was wrong with me?!?!?!) Moved to the GA/TN line 2 years ago, and will be moving to 20 miles from Knoxville in just a few weeks. I wouldn't consider living north of the Mason-Dixon line for a six-figure income and millions in stock options.
As the bumper sticker says, I was "Yankee by birth - Southerner by the Grace of God!"
morninggirl5
Secret Dream Machine
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sir_Winston54 said:
Mr. Grizzard maligned the Alabama Million Dollar Band. His rabid Bulldog support didn't bother me until then.
20 miles from Knoxville in which direction? I grew up just south of Knoxville.
yourdestonie
Countess Pervetta
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Its so good to see this thread up and going again
WriterDom
Good to the last drop
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The Dipstick And The Great American
The trend away from full-service service stations has affected me a great deal.
I'm not certain exactly when just about every service station started making you pump your own gas. I guess it was back in the early '70s during the oil crunch.
I'm a bit of a dipstick when it comes to doing anything more with a car than turning on the ignition and pressing the gas pedal.
It's not that I'm above pumping my own gasoline, but it sort of makes me nervous. I'm never quite certain how to work the gas nozzle.
My greatest fear is that the gas nozzle won't automatically shut off like it's supposed to when the tank is full and gasoline will spill out all over the ground and all over me and some guy will toss a cigarette away and I'm instant fried Buddhist monk.
There's something else, too. There isn't anybody around to wash your windshield anymore, either.
If they're going to make you pump your own gas, certainly nobody is going to be friendly enough to come out and ask, "Want me to get that windshield?"
And, even on the rare occasions you find a full-service service station, if the attendant does attempt to clean your windshield, he will do a lousy job. He will spray a little cleaner on your windshield and then run over it once with a squeegee and leave a lot of film. Instead of getting the bug goo off, he simply will smear it. Nothing worse than smeared bug goo.
All that is to say I stopped into the Gulf station on Peachtree at the entrance to Ansley Park the other day and I met Melvin Slaughter, an attendant there. He had a shirt that had his first name sewn above his left breast pocket.
Melvin told me he was 28 and he was from Macon and he had been working at the station for three years.
Melvin Slaughter, as it turns out, is a great American.
I was in my red Blazer. I told Melvin to fill it with unleaded. He did, and then without my asking, he washed my front windshield.
A friend had borrowed the Blazer recently to drive to St. Louis. Half the bug population between Georgia and Missouri was dead on my windshield.
Melvin didn't wash my windshield. He attacked it. He sprayed on the cleaner and ran the squeegee through twice, and then he wiped the film off with a paper cloth.
But there was still some serious bug remaining, so Melvin got another paper towel, and one by one, he got the bugs off.
I mean he dug down there deep. Elbow grease, they used to call it. Melvin simply refused to leave a single spot on my windshield.
Then, if that wasn't enough, he went to the back window and did the same sort of job. I said to Melvin, "That's the best job I've had done on a windshield since gasoline was 30 cents a gallon."
Who was president then, Harry Truman?
Melvin replied, "I just try to do the best job I can do. That's what they pay me for."
Melvin Slaughter made my day. Made me think perhaps friendly service isn't dead and gone. Made me feel like a person can still take pride in his or her job, no matter if it is doing his or her best to get bug goo off a windshield.
Isn't that what made this country great in the first place? Absolutely. That and unlocked restrooms.
I sort of miss them, too.
The trend away from full-service service stations has affected me a great deal.
I'm not certain exactly when just about every service station started making you pump your own gas. I guess it was back in the early '70s during the oil crunch.
I'm a bit of a dipstick when it comes to doing anything more with a car than turning on the ignition and pressing the gas pedal.
It's not that I'm above pumping my own gasoline, but it sort of makes me nervous. I'm never quite certain how to work the gas nozzle.
My greatest fear is that the gas nozzle won't automatically shut off like it's supposed to when the tank is full and gasoline will spill out all over the ground and all over me and some guy will toss a cigarette away and I'm instant fried Buddhist monk.
There's something else, too. There isn't anybody around to wash your windshield anymore, either.
If they're going to make you pump your own gas, certainly nobody is going to be friendly enough to come out and ask, "Want me to get that windshield?"
And, even on the rare occasions you find a full-service service station, if the attendant does attempt to clean your windshield, he will do a lousy job. He will spray a little cleaner on your windshield and then run over it once with a squeegee and leave a lot of film. Instead of getting the bug goo off, he simply will smear it. Nothing worse than smeared bug goo.
All that is to say I stopped into the Gulf station on Peachtree at the entrance to Ansley Park the other day and I met Melvin Slaughter, an attendant there. He had a shirt that had his first name sewn above his left breast pocket.
Melvin told me he was 28 and he was from Macon and he had been working at the station for three years.
Melvin Slaughter, as it turns out, is a great American.
I was in my red Blazer. I told Melvin to fill it with unleaded. He did, and then without my asking, he washed my front windshield.
A friend had borrowed the Blazer recently to drive to St. Louis. Half the bug population between Georgia and Missouri was dead on my windshield.
Melvin didn't wash my windshield. He attacked it. He sprayed on the cleaner and ran the squeegee through twice, and then he wiped the film off with a paper cloth.
But there was still some serious bug remaining, so Melvin got another paper towel, and one by one, he got the bugs off.
I mean he dug down there deep. Elbow grease, they used to call it. Melvin simply refused to leave a single spot on my windshield.
Then, if that wasn't enough, he went to the back window and did the same sort of job. I said to Melvin, "That's the best job I've had done on a windshield since gasoline was 30 cents a gallon."
Who was president then, Harry Truman?
Melvin replied, "I just try to do the best job I can do. That's what they pay me for."
Melvin Slaughter made my day. Made me think perhaps friendly service isn't dead and gone. Made me feel like a person can still take pride in his or her job, no matter if it is doing his or her best to get bug goo off a windshield.
Isn't that what made this country great in the first place? Absolutely. That and unlocked restrooms.
I sort of miss them, too.
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