Werking Late

I watched Lucky Number Slevin last night.  Will the judge invoke Godwin’s Law if I say I think Bruce Willis, now that he’s getting older, could play a convincing Adolph Hitler?  Can’t find it with Google image search, but early on there’s an airport scene where Bruce, if only he had the moustache, is the spittin’ image.

And speaking of comical Third Reich types, is the German guy in those Citi Rewards commercials saying what I think he’s saying?  I can understand him until the very end, when he starts goose-stepping and barking out something that sounds like “verk, verk, verk!”  Which would be werk, as in “work, work, work!”  Well, if that’s what he’s saying, he can schleck mich am arsch.  We werk hard enough, thank you, and we don’t need no gruppenfuehrer telling us to werk harder.

My job tonight, while Donna works late, is to plan our Christmas Eve supper and Christmas dinner.  We have shrimp and crab legs in the freezer, so I’m leaning toward cioppino for Christmas Eve.  We’ll need to find some clams and sourdough bread, but that won’t be hard.  And even though we had a standing rib roast for Thanksgiving, I think we might try it again on Christmas – unless I can find a leg of lamb.  New Year’s day is taken care of – we picked up a smoked hillbilly ham when we were in Missouri earlier this month.

Sorry for the dearth of entries lately.  This really is the busiest time of the year, isn’t it?

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