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Friday, November 10, 2006


Mirandas. A little bar and restaurant in the hills of Roger on the way to the airport. Miranda is a friend. She can also humble the most dirty mouthed trucker with her own range of cuss words that could make you hide under a table. Miranda has her garden behind the house and runs the business on a 'how I feel today' basis.

Many times people will be broke and Miranda will feed and water them and send them on their way to pay or not another day. She also cooks for some of our parties, usually on short notice and with much cussing if you are late. But she is a good woman. Her black pudding on Fridays is hot and peppery and full of taste. Her chicken just tastes different. And her bull foot soup or goat water (she has goats behind her property) are real nice.

She calls me doudou when she is happy with me. She calls me a f...... m......when she isnt. well and about twenty other things. But it all adds to the ambience. if you know what I mean.

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