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My last name is Welsh. Apparently some Welshman a couple of hundred years ago went down to what was then British Guiana, in South America, and had a great time with the various darker skinned people there: the native Indians, East Indians and Africans. There are now a colorful mixture of all of them with my last name, both here in the States and in Georgetown. Some of them must have friended everyone with that last name on Facebook, because I have “relatives” all over.
Ok…enough about cheese and bread. I’ve got work to do. Later peeps!
No, but when I appeared to know a few lines from the movie the woman next to me seemed to get momentarily uncomfortable. Several people were laughing openly. I left before the final scenes, they are too violent.
“maybe we are related.”
Maybe! I can’t pronounce the name of the town my cousins live in. It looks like a mistake of all consonants! I’d have to go look it up. Other family was from Pembrokeshire/Pembroke area. The cousin of my mothers generation has one of those crazy Welsh names with 12 consonants, and one vowel. Her kids have normal/recognizable names.
Ditto, real cheese toast is only toasted on one side. It goes into the broiler with the slice of cheese on it. Bottom of bread never gets toasted.
“No one is more egalitarian than small collective American Marxists”
Jester please please please get me invited to one of these.
Really, ET? That surprises me about you.
Cargar, cheese toast and grilled cheese are not the same. Re-read how cheese toast is made.
“No one is more egalitarian than small collective American Marxists – any perceived sense of unfairness to anyone or any opinion pains them to their core.”
posted by infinitejester
…you’re just lucky you didn’t ask for Grey Poupon mustard!