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Thread: Oskaar...

  1. #1

    Default Oskaar...

    Waiting for an elevator in a fancy shopping mall, I wasn't especially surprised to see that the Finnish embassy is located in the building; it's that kind of place in an upscale town. Then I noticed the Croatian embassy...I had to supress a ridiculous impulse to ride to that floor, get out, and ask, "Do you know Oskaar?"

    I wouldn't be here typing if I had.

    Miriam

    Miriam the Mead Bubeh
    Israeli Kitchen www.mimi54.wordpress.com

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Sep 2004
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    Cedar Rapids, IA
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    Default Re: Oskaar...

    I am told they arrest anyone that admits to knowing him pretty much all over the world...

    Good thing you didn't say anything...

  3. #3

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Hi Miriam --

    It might have been fun to ask them. Oskaar does get
    around, seems to have a lot of creative energy and
    is involved in a lot of activities, community, etc.,
    not just this forum.

    They may very well have heard of him!

    <><><><><><><><><><>
    <><><><><><><><>
    Dan McFeeley

    "Meon an phobail a thogail trid an chultur"
    (The people's spirit is raised through culture)

  4. #4
    Join Date
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    Default Re: Oskaar...



    I'm told the Finnish Consul General and his Mrs. are getting along much better now, they make such a cute couple. Odd that she's ticklish in so many places.

    Oskaar
    Is it tasty . . . precious?

  5. #5

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Quote Originally Posted by Oskaar
    Odd that she's ticklish in so many places.
    Not that odd... I find that they're ticklish wherever you take them... even across state lines.

    Wrathwilde

  6. #6
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    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Gentlemen!

    Tsk.. tsk...

    I bet poor Miriam is PLOTZING right now reading this thread...

  7. #7

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Oh, as a writer of no mean ability, Miriam is well-aware of the central importance of good PLOTZ!

    -David

  8. #8

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Beg your pardon, gentlemen...no plotzer I, but preserve a ladyfied and dignilike reticence.

    *Hic*

    Cursing my wimpiness at the door of the Croatian embassy...with enough craftiness I might have dug up something really awful about Oskaar to pass along here (if I could avoid getting arrested) ...went home and found something to rack instead (thistle honey show mead) and had to taste it of course...

    (singing melancholy and off-key)

    Oooh, demonstrate the path to my abode
    I'm fatigued and I wish to retire
    I enjoyed a slight libation a short while since
    And believe I'm feeling some of its effects...
    Miriam the Mead Bubeh
    Israeli Kitchen www.mimi54.wordpress.com

  9. #9
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    Default Re: Oskaar...

    If anything they're probably in a bit of awe now. We just had our Consul General recalled to Croatia out of the blue, this was shortly after she and I had a heated argument about her participation (lack thereof) in events here in So Cal. Shortly after that "discussion" she was recalled. I'm told she was quite shocked at her recall to Zagreb, we're still waiting for our new Consul General . . .
    Is it tasty . . . precious?

  10. #10

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    Yes, I see it all in front of me now...

    The Scene:

    The Croatian Embassy in Ramat Aviv, Israel. Miriam stands at the receptionist's desk, leaning forward with a confident smile.

    "I'd like to see His Excellency," she says.

    The pretty receptionist looks up from her computer monitor. She regards the modestly-dressed matron in front of her.

    "The Ambassador is in a meeting," replies the young lady smoothly. "Please be seated and I will let him know you're here as soon as the meeting finishes - in two or three hours, perhaps."

    "No," says Miriam, equally smooth, "Just buzz His Excellency and tell him...Oskaar sent me."

    The receptionist pats her hairdo nervously. "Oskaar? Of course. Um, please be seated...that is, please sit down. Can I get you a glass of water?"

    "No thanks," smiles Miriam. She looks around at the glass-enclosed room, with its leather-covered furniture, luxurious potted plants and hidden cameras, and sits down.

    "Your name, please?" asks the receptionist, picking up the phone.

    "Just say it's The Mead Bubeh."

    The receptionist whispers into the phone. Almost immediately, a buzz is heard and one of the glass doors opens. His Excellency, the Croatian Ambassador, strides forward with his hand out.

    "So very pleased to meet you, Madame," he says, "Please come in. Ludovica," - he turns to the receptionist - Send in some slivovica. And do not allow anyone to disturb me for the next ten minutes."

    In the Ambassador's office, Miriam and His Excellency regard each other. Another pretty young lady brings a tray laden with shot glasses, a bottle of slivovica and two cups of coffee. She pours the fiery plum brandy, then exits.

    "Your health," says the Ambassador, lifting his shot glass.

    "LeChaim," replies Miriam.They throw their heads back and drink.

    "Ah, excellent," says His Excellency. He smiles with practiced charm. "Now - what message from...Oskaar?"

    Miriam leans back, appreciating the atmosphere of quiet luxury and international complications, and power. She sips at her coffee, then puts the cup down. Her face darkens.

    "Oskaar sends...greetings."

    "Greetings?"

    "Greetings," replies Miriam firmly. "From GotMead."

    "GotMead! Ah!" the Ambassador stares into space meditatively. "Yess, yes. That scandal with the Consul General in South California, of course...?"

    "I'm afraid it's worse," says Miriam regretfully. She stands and looks out of the window, then turns back to the Ambassador, who has turned pale. "It's the Finnish Ambassador's wife. I must say no more."

    The Ambassador's eyes widen, but diplomatic training prevails and he recovers his habitual urbanity. "I understand," he says. "Indeed, that is sufficient. Thank you."

    Miriam picks up her purse and leaves the Ambassador standing, lost in calculations. On her way out, she sees two people jostling each other at the receptionist's desk: a slinky blonde in a short black dress, and a tall, handsome man with his fedora pulled over his eyes.

    "I must see His Excellency," insists the blonde.

    "No, His Excellency must see me," claims the tall man.

    Miriam sighs. Imposters, obviously.

    Miriam the Mead Bubeh
    Israeli Kitchen www.mimi54.wordpress.com

  11. #11
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    Default Re: Oskaar...

    I feel a movie coming on! Ha Haaaa, paparazzi!

    Oskaar
    Is it tasty . . . precious?

  12. #12

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    You should ask Oskaar about the Irish Ambassadors Daughter. They're still looking for her. Evidently she was stolen away in the middle of the night... the lone witness only heard the abduction from the next room, apparently the perp kept mumbling something about "my precious". Other snippets overheard ... "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up, sleepies.", "Master must go inside the tunnel.", "Because it's my birthday, and I wants it.", "Pull it in. Go on. Go on. Go on. Pull it in.", "She's always hungry. She always needs to feed.", "Oh, yes, my precious. Very nice, very nice.", "We must go, yeeees, we must go at once."*

    Wrathwilde

    (*Yes all Quotes are from the LOTR movies... any passages that give offense are solely the result of the readers own dirty thoughts, you should be ashamed of yourselves.)


  13. #13

    Default Re: Oskaar...

    And expect Oakaar to be at the bottom of that heap of people with their minds in the gutter! *grins wickedly*

  14. #14
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    Default Re: Oskaar...

    That girl had a real thirst for Guiness! Now she's onto mead . . . fancy that! LOL

    Cheers,

    Oskaar
    Is it tasty . . . precious?

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