Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Crockpot Sausage n Grits Meatloaf

Slow Cooker Sausage 'n' Grits Meatloaf
recipe image
Rated: rating
Submitted By: Jane Ruby
Photo By: mis7up
Prep Time: 10 Minutes
Cook Time: 5 Hours
Ready In: 5 Hours 10 Minutes
Servings: 6
"This meatloaf has the southern taste of grits and sausage, and is made in a slow cooker. There are no bread crumbs; egg whites and grits have the holding power."
Ingredients:
2 16-inch square sheets of heavy duty
aluminum foil
1 pound ground beef
1/2 pound bulk pork sausage
1/3 cup liquid egg whites
1/3 cup dry grits
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1/2 cup ketchup
2 dashes liquid smoke flavoring, or to
taste (optional)
Directions:
1. Fold each sheet of aluminum foil in half lengthwise, then fold in half lengthwise again, to make 2 strips of foil 4 inches wide by 16 inches long. Place the strips into the bottom of a slow cooker in a cross, so that the long ends of the strips come partway up the inside of the cooker (to make lifting handles). Spray the inside of the slow cooker and the foil strips with cooking spray.
2. Mix together the ground beef, pork sausage, egg whites, grits, onion powder, garlic powder, ketchup, and liquid smoke flavoring until thoroughly combined, and form into a rounded loaf. Gently place the loaf into the slow cooker on top of the crossed foil strips.
3. Cover the cooker, set on Low, and cook for 5 to 6 hours. To serve, carefully hold the ends of the foil strips, and gently lift the meat loaf from the cooker by the foil handles to place on a serving platter for slicing.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © 2011 Allrecipes.com Printed from Allrecipes.com 9/19/2011

Friday, September 23, 2011

Re: Painting the Flag- a must see

More than awesome.






 
'No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is as formidable as the will and 
moral courage of free men and women.'
- Ronald Reagan 
 
 
An interesting presentation . . . thoughtfully prepared
I guarantee you will watch  
spell-bound until the last    
drop of paint is put in place. 
Make sure your sound is turned up      



Monday, September 19, 2011

Adult Excerpt: Sex World-- Bodyguard by Lena Austin



 

Sex World: Bodyguard

by Lena Austin
Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-679-9
Genre(s): Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Sex World
Length: Novella
Page Count: 111


Blurb:
Former intelligence officer Chance is insulted at the idea of having a tagalong sex engineer "bodyguard" until they get lost in the Hive, a world of insect-humans.
Ex-ranger Dawn, Chance's bodyguard, only looks like a cute, curly-haired blonde. On her world, she's survived monsters. This time, the monsters have human faces.
They'll discover a mystery and an awful truth -- there are things worse than dying.
Excerpt:
Sex World: Bodyguard
Lena Austin
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Lena Austin

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


Dawn breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the committee chamber and found she was the first one there. Her role as casual guardian of the members of the committee would soon be over, as the regular guardian had recovered from her wounds after the last assassination attempt.
She ran her hands over the sleek secretarial electronics station in a farewell caress. "I'm going to miss you," she muttered. Strange how she'd grown to like the machine and the work.
Stranger still that a barbarian colonist from a primeval world like hers would find herself here on the UCP planetoid, seeing to the comfort and safety of the elite. Even if she did have to wear the strangest clothes to be in fashion.
Dawn checked her skirt and body paint, afraid she might have smudged the artistry. Who'd have thought she could look like a mermaid? Well, that was the talent of the body-paint artists of the wealthy. The combs in her blonde curls were made with real pearls and worth a year's income even without the special modifications that made them weapons.
Well, that was the point. She looked like some oligarch's fluff-and-feathers secretary, and that was why she ran the station here. Her baby face and outfit made many think she didn't have the brains necessary to find her ass with both hands, despite the intense training necessary to run any secretarial electronics.
Dawn smiled wickedly and checked the rest of the weapons hidden on her person or in the desk's panels. Several assassins had found out the hard way not to ignore her. She was sure all would recover eventually, enough to stand trial.
The doors to the chamber snapped open, and Dawn's jaw almost fell open. She moved to sit on the booth chair and pretended to be busy running a service check while she studied the newcomer.
A male wearing a Spartan military service singlesuit, with dark, shoulder-length hair and blue eyes that matched the pale blue of his uniform perfectly, strode in. In fact, everything about him was perfect, down to the creases in his uniform.
But that was what Spartans were known for -- near perfection. Cool, unemotional intellect that made every female human long to shred the facade and get to the barbaric male beneath.
Dawn kept her grin purely internal. She'd had a few Spartan clients and knew from personal experience there was indeed a primal male beneath the icy Spartan exterior. Their convention that it was improper to show emotions in public meant they were lovely beasts in private.
The man under her scrutiny marched three steps full of feline grace and chose one of the chairs around the massive round table. He pulled a pencil file from his breast pocket and inserted it into the table for the usual security check before display. Then he sat back and stared off into the cosmos.
While her secretarial system warmed up and opened the necessary files for this session, Dawn continued to keep an eye on the Spartan. The security recognitions at the door had passed him, and her query as to his identity returned with a Need to Know flag. Probably Intelligence Corps. Well, there was hope for Ice Man yet if he was I-Corps. Maybe he'd be willing to indulge...
"You're staring."
The low, masculine comment caused Dawn to jump like she'd taken a maser shot. Her cheeks flooded with embarrassment. "Forgive me, Citizen. I cannot find identification authorizing you to attend this meeting. Will you state your ID and business for the record?" She toggled the record button and waited.
His pale blue gaze bore into her. "Voiceprint identification, please. Name given is Chance Hesperus. Stated purpose is to report on missing persons on Elysium."
The secretarial board lit with a green Confirmed. Dawn nodded her satisfaction and turned off the recording. "Thank you, Citizen."
The security committee members shuffled in from either of the two entrances as they chose, greeting Chance like an old friend.
Dawn stifled her wish to invite Chance to a rousing game on the holodeck after the meeting. If he was I-Corps, her best bet was to make her invitation through the UCP computer system anyway, to preserve the identity he was using this mission. With a purely internal sigh, she toggled the recording back on as soon as the members were seated and prepared for a long session guaranteed to cure insomnia.
She was dead wrong. Chance's recording of the killing of his tech assistant at the hands of unknown assailants on Elysium, coupled with the overwhelming documentation, proved at least one thousand hapless tourists had gone missing and the evidence they'd ever been on Elysium had been erased with maximum efficiency.
Chance presented a good case. Something would have to be done, but when he requested authorization to return to the planet alone for further investigation, the committee chairman held up a hand.
The old man shook his head regretfully. "I know what you're going to ask for, Chance. You're going to want a license to kill. You can have that under the usual limited circumstances, but you can't go in alone." His watery gaze slid around until it fell on Dawn. He cleared his throat. "You're too valuable for that. I insist on a guardian."
The war of emotions on Chance's face was subtle, but easy to read for a sex engineer of Dawn's training. Ice Man he wasn't, after all. "My last partner died."
His reminder to the committee ground out between clenched teeth, but didn't faze the chairman. He waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, you made that abundantly clear. You also made it clear that the majority of the missing persons were females of any age from birth to their fifth decade. Males who turned up missing were always in the company of at least one female in that age bracket." He steepled his hands and thought for a moment. "I'm going to hazard a guess and say if you want to find out anything, you're going to need a female guardian to act as bait."
  *´¨)
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(¸.·* 
Lena Austin
http://www.LenaAustin.com
http://depravedduchess.blogspot.com


The beast lives!

Bo the Mechanic called and my Suzuki can be resurrected! Hooray! It was a clogged radiator. Some soapy substance got in, like a prank played on me by kids. The dog did go nuts barking at something recently, and I do forget to lock my car often. That'll teach me! A $78 lesson in safety.
  *´¨)
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(¸.·* 
Lena Austin
http://www.LenaAustin.com
http://depravedduchess.blogspot.com

It's definitely Monday

I have a '97 Suzuki. Or, most likely I should say that I *had* a '97 Suzuki. I've been having trouble with it overheating, and after two trips to the mechanic, I thought it was fixed.

WRONG!

As I'd promised to do, I opened the hood this morning and opened the radiator valve to inspect the water level now that the car had cooled overnight. Yes, that was what I said. The car had cooled overnight. So, when I opened the cap, I didn't expect to get sprayed all over my work clothes with water and antifreeze. I put the cap back on, dried off and took off my apron I'd had the good sense to wear over my work clothes. The sleeves were only a little wet, so I decided to keep my shirt on. I'd call the mechanic tomorrow on my day off. I'd nurse the car through another day, just as I had for two weeks.

The sky was gray and the day blustery, so I threw in my umbrella just in case. I even remembered to bring my travel mug of coffee, freshly topped off and hot. I wasn't going to let Monday get me down! I'd even added money on my Tracfone just so I could have minutes for emergencies and text messaging my daughters. Smug and self-assured, I got in, got gas, and drove off to work in plenty of time.

Guess I pissed Murphy off.

Traffic was unusually light for a Monday. Even when it began to rain, I hummed a jaunty tune and took a sip of coffee. Yep, I was going to handle Monday just fine.

Then traffic stopped. Dead stop. All three lanes of I-95 were a solid wall of taillights.

I hadn't listened to the traffic reporting two accidents and a stoplight out on all three of the major routes to my work. I checked my watch. I still had plenty of time. I took another sip of coffee. 

My car's temperature gauge slipped up a notch, then another. Uh-oh.

My heart sank with every notch that needle rose. I knew what was coming, but I was helpless to stop it. I nervously took another sip of coffee and prayed traffic would start moving.

POP! From under my hood, steam hissed out the sides of the hood.

I sighed, put on my blinkers, and pulled over to the emergency shoulder. After all, this was exactly why I paid extra for roadside assistance. I pulled the card out of my purse, dialed, and requested a wrecker. Then I called my work's attendance line and told them I doubted I'd make it in. (Dammit, there went my perfect attendance record.) Then I left a message for Dante, informing him of the trouble, just to cover my bases.

Ahead of me, another pileup snarled traffic even further. The rain came down harder, but I had my coffee and one of my daughters to talk to on the phone.

Three cops and an ambulance worked their way through the traffic and forged ahead. Oh, goodie. Accident with injuries. A big red wrecker from another company than the one I called passed by. The driver gave me a friendly wave, and I waved back. He was probably on his way to the mess up ahead, and I didn't begrudge him. He clearly wasn't my wrecker.

My bladder began to protest. I had gaily drank most of my travel mug, plus the mug I'd had before I left the house. Hmm. Older woman in "good" clothes on a rainy day, with a full bladder and a dead car. Not good. This could get ugly. It was also getting hot in my car, and I began to perspire. "It's Florida," I told myself. "Sweating is what we do." The sweat mingled with whatever the liquid was on my sleeves and began to sting my skin.

The rain let up to a spitting shower, then stopped. A white wrecker pulled up behind me with a cheerful, skinny Armenian guy on a cell phone. It seemed the big red wrecker's driver was a friend of his, and his friend had told him precisely where I was! He set about getting my car loaded on his wrecker bed very efficiently, and asked me to wait in his truck. 

I elected to stand in the grass for a few minutes to let my shirt dry in the breeze. The cool air felt marvelous to my stinging skin. I was going to be okay, after all. I'd direct the driver to drop my car off at the mechanic, and I'd walk the mile home. No big deal. I could do it. I had an umbrella, and there was a Wendy's halfway down the road if I needed a rest or the bathroom.

Did you know there were red ant and fire ant nests all over the verge of the highway? Neither did I, but I found out the hard way!

Did you know it was possible for an arthritic and overweight author to scramble up into a wrecker's cab when the first step was almost at the top of her thighs and the seat above her head? Neither did I.

Not only did the wrecker driver help me drop my car off at the mechanic, he even offered to take me home! How sweet is that? Now I'm nervously waiting for the prognosis on my car. Am I going to have to buy a new car? Worse, am I going to have to call Enterprise Rent A Car so I can go car shopping?

Stay tuned...
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(¸.·* 
Lena Austin
http://www.LenaAustin.com
http://depravedduchess.blogspot.com

Humor: Annual Dementia Test

Our Yearly Dementia Test-- only 4 questions this year,
the economy you know.... 
cid:1.551113401@web180503.mail.gq1.yahoo.comOur Yearly Dementia Test

It's that time of year for us to take our annual senior citizen test.
Exercise of the brain is as important as exercise of the muscles. As we grow older, it's important to keep mentally alert. If you don't use it, you lose it!
Below is a very private way to gauge how your memory compares to the last test. Some may think it is too easy but the ones with memory problems may have difficulty.
 Take the test presented here to determine if you're losing it or not.
The spaces below are so you don't see the answers until you've made your answer.
OK, relax, clear your mind and begin.
1. What do you put in a toaster?









Answer
: 'bread.' If you said 'toast' give up now and do something else..
Try not to hurt yourself.
If you said, bread, go to Question 2.

2. Say 'silk' five times. Now spell 'silk.' What do cows drink?


Answer
: Cows drink water. If you said 'milk,' don't attempt the next question. Your brain is over-stressed and may even overheat. Content yourself with reading more appropriate literature such as Auto World.
However, if you said 'water', proceed to question 3.
 



3. If a red house is made from red bricks and a blue house is made from blue bricks and a pink house is made from pink bricks and a black house is made from black bricks, what is a green house made from?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Answer: Greenhouses are made from glass. If you said 'green bricks,' why are you still reading these??? If you said 'glass,' go on to Question 4.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
4. Without using a calculator - You are driving a bus from London to Milford Haven in Wales ... In London , 17 people get on the bus.
In Reading , 6 people get off the bus and 9 people get on.
In
 Swindon , 2 people get off and 4 get on.
In Cardiff , 11 people get off and 16 people get on.
In Swansea , 3 people get off and 5 people get on.
In Carmathen, 6 people get off and 3 get on.
You then arrive at Milford Haven
 ..
 



Without scrolling back to review, how old is the bus driver?
 








Answer
: Oh, for crying out loud!
Don't you remember your own age?
It was YOU driving the bus!!

cid:2.551113401@web180503.mail.gq1.yahoo.com
If you pass this along to your friends, pray they do better than you.

Welcome to my Blog!

Thanks for popping by! Don't sit on the whipping horse unless you want to find out how it's used. I speak my mind and annoy many people, but all of it is meant in good spirit. Feel free to argue with me. I like it.

Best way to reach me is by email: voiceomt2002@yahoo.com

Lena