November 16, 2010
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I for one was/am grateful for the military's attitude towards "gays". I didn't get killed; I didn't get horribly wounded. I didn't have to kill anyone or even have to learn to kill. I wasn't thrown in prison - where I'd have been raped - for years and years for refusing to learn/kill/be killed.
Claims to be homosexual.That was on the paper - in BIG letters - on the desk where I sat to take my military IQ test. All the other guys stared. I pretended to be nonchalant about it, but I was petrified.
The psychiatrist asked probing questions. He was obviously quite curious about my past. I pretended to be nonchalant about it, but I was petrified.
In the end they decided they didn't want me.
Comments (5)
Have you seen the documentary about Vietnam titled "Hearts and Minds"? Better to be petrified for a few minutes than to go to Vietnam. Wars in America are now big business. Billions of dollars. Not only do the countries we attack suffer but all Americans have to pay for it. I'm glad you didn't go to war.
Good cards are to be played when it counts.
I thought you might be interested by this article. I'm not very knowledgeable in all things India and the countries around, so I had never heard before about Āyurveda, but I have a cinch you probably have. Josée Blanchette has a weekly page in Le Devoir, rather electic, but she was for a long time before that a culinary columnist, and a learned one at that. The Laloux guy is the former chef-owner of a [much] renowned Montreal restaurant still bearing his name. The part of Jean-Talon street where there is a higher concentration of 'south Asians' is not far west of my pad, near the Parc métro station.
Laloux, ze link
mdr.
I looked it up for images and I got: Did you mean: Le Bonheur de cuir
There's this link about the author explaining his book in a video, if you haven't stumbled on it already. No images of food on the screen, but plenty in the imagination. At the end when he talks of "cuisine d'eau" and "cuisine de feu", I am and suspect by what you've posted in the past that you are also more like me into the "feu" category.
Gosh, now I need (want) this book.
Here, mdr means "mort de rire" or "lol" in the other lingo. I took for granted it's the same in Lémanesque countries.
Incidentally, I was working today on my upcoming post about a recipe involving a special type of pasta imported here by a leather clothings store. If the guy is in any way mafia related, I'd avoid laughing in his face otherwise it could indeed become a mdr situation, and obviously not a "bonheur de cuir" one. 
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