Originally posted Dec. 2, 2008.
It's time for another installment of Tales from the Fish House. Now I recently wrote about my daughters birthday party, so I thought I would share a tale that is a little more personal....You may be asking...What's more personal then walking in on a dude laying the wood to some chicken scraps?
Well this tale is about me, and Mrs. Beeze. In this tale we'll call her FMB...Future Mrs. Beeze...We fell in love at the Fish House. It's a tale of love, and passion, and the exchange of bodily fluids.
FMB was a server, and I was a sous chef who frequently used the word F*CK in any and all possible context. Sous chef is the nice way of being called the chef's b!tch. We had both been in long term relationships, and we were both unhappy in them. As we got to know each other better, working on a daily basis, and going out drinking after work, we realized we had to break it off with the dummies we were dating.
After that we started dating. When I say dating I mean, going out drinking after work, and then having lots and lots of sex. Always with protection. Now some of you may be thinking....Beeze, you had sex before you got married? YEAH!!! I'm not gonna buy a car without seeing how it handles...My c**k. Oops. (starting to get a little dirty)
So a couple months go buy and I proposed to her. That's how good she handled. The night we got engaged, we went out to dinner, then we hit a bar. It was kinda the bar a lot of my family hung out at...so we went there to let everyone know. One of my Dad's friends (a Cleveland Plain Dealer sports writer) tried hitting on FMB. In mid-sentence he passed out.
After hours we went to the Fish House. We had some drinks and started getting it on. I wasn't too drunk, because I said..."I don't have any with me". Any being condoms. She said it's okay, it's safe right now. So we start going at it. On a table, and then on the bar. I always wanted to bone someone on the bar.
Now at the bar there is this thing with all the tap handles. We always called it the mushroom head...because that's what it looked like. At one point I'm sitting on it, and FMB is on me...going to town. Well to this day, the mushroom head is dented. Dented with the impression of my a$$. Think about that next time you get a draft.
A little later I get to that point. That point where I'm going to unleash a load with the fury of God's own thunder. I inform FMB of this and she says "it's okay."
So the BEEZE let it fly.
Well 3 weeks later we found out it wasn't okay....I puked....Then we made plans to get married a week later in Niagra Falls.
I'm happy to say, we've been together almost 8 years now, and we still get it on as much as we can. We also have a 4 year old son....Another product of Mrs. Beeze not knowing her cycle....But I can't imagine my life without them....although I can imagine all the extra money I would have.
So you know that wasn't the first time I got it on in the Fish House. Next week I'll have something a little more twisted for you.
This weeks recipe.
Tomato Basil Bisque
1 green pepper chopped
1T of minced garlic
1 #10 can of tomato strips
1 cup fresh chopped basil
4-8T of sugar (depending on how sweet you want it)
salt & pepper to taste
1 quart of heavy cream.
Saute onion, pepper, and garlic in a little oil....add tomato...stir...add basil....let simmer....add sugar, S & P....add cream....let simmer....20-30 minutes. Blend it if you want that "Bisque" consistency. Or if you like leave it chunky and hearty.
Hope you enjoyed my perverted tale.
Later the BEEZE.
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