100 Postings of Blogs on the Web, 100 Postings of Blogs...

"howdy, y'all!" gavin cardigan hollered out as he entered the pub. "what's for supper tonight, danny?"

"beef tenderloin pot pie," danny blake replied from behind the bar, pouring cardigan a Guinness.

"sounds good, danny. thank you."

blake shakes his hand. "don't thank me; thank maddog & her indulgent fiance, chris. they made it."

cardigan took his stout and walked over to join the others. "hey, maddog. hey, chris. thanks for the grub. what's the occasion?"

chris shrugged. "don't ask us, dude. you think we chose to be here?"

marian said, "we're celebrating burkie's 100th post!"

"there he is!" tucker pointed toward the door as burkie walked in, and strummed his guitar:

there's a twinkle in his eye
that his shades can't hide,
a 5 o'clock shadow
known far and wide,
he's our handsome creator
our host with the most
so let's give it up to burkie
for his hundreth post!

not for the first time, burkie seemed rather embarrassed by his creation's musical, er, gifts. "thanks, tucker. that's enough."

"happy 1ooth posting, burkie!" sierra greeted him.

"thanks, gang. this isn't really necessary, you know, but it's nice to see you all."

"no, thank you, sir." benjamin franklin walked over to shake burkie's hand. "thanks to you and your writings, i have discovered the most fascinating things!"

"oh, er, thank you mr. franklin," burkie stammered. "but that's not important. the reason i'm glad i'm that you're all here is that i want your advice about what i should blog about next year."

"you're abandoning us?" taylor dropped his fork.

"good!" judge st. bishop stated. "your cavalier disregard for historical accuracy has put us all into jeapardy!"

"that's not fair, burkie!" marian stomped her food, making a face.

"guess i'll never get a date now," cardigan muttered.

burkie sighed. "i'm not talking about you guys. i'll still write about you from time to time. i mean, 2008 was the Year of Bread for me; what is 2009 going the be the Year of?"

"the Year of Tattoos," Mysterious Lurker proposed. "you could get a new tattoo on your body every week and post a picture of it here." she showed off the mickey mouse tattoo on her arm.

"ew, i don't want to see burkie's tattooed body," sierra shuddered. "how about the Year of Bacon? you could do a year's worth of bacon recipes."

"that's not bad," burkie admitted, silently agreeing that even he didn't want to see pictures of his tattooed body. "but maybe not the healthiest idea. my cholesterol is a little high, you know."

"then you should do the Year of Fish," marian declared. "it's good for you."

"but kind of expensive," maddog pointed out. "and most of the people in your house don't eat fish."

"true," burkie frowned. "bread is pretty universally liked, except for the occasional blue cheese bread."

"the Year of Blood," taylor suggested. "you know, blood soup, blood sausage, blood cheese, fried blood, baked--"

"no!"

"i kind of like what thursday night countdown does," burkie mused. "every thursday night, she prepares a new recipe that she's never made from one of her growing pile of cookbooks. i, too, have a pile of cookbooks, and that would make sure i use them."

"pretty unoriginal," cardigan grunted. "can't you do better than that?"

"how about texas foods?" the judge suggested. "you know about that."

"yeah, but the homesick texan has that angle already."

"how about pizza?" blake asked. "that way, you could continue to work with yeast, but experience with different types of dough, baked or grill, and the toppings are limitless."

"plus, everyone in your house likes pizza," sierra noted.

"and it has cheese," marian the notorious cheese ho pointed out.

"yeah, but i don't know," burkie was doubtful. "i mean, i love pizza, but culinary in the desert does pizza every friday night."

"well, hell. why ask us for help when all you're going to do is shoot down everything we say? especially when you're the one saying it anyway, just using us to do it?" cardigan was clearly annoyed.

burkie scowled. "that hurts my head to think about what you just said. i count on you guys to help me out and inspire me. it's still october, so i don't have to figure this out tonight. i like all of your ideas...except yours, taylor. you're not a real vampire, remember? and it doesn't have to be just one thing, like bread was. so think about it and let me know. let's recap some of your ideas and some others i've had:

bacon
fish
texas food
pizza
never-before-made recipes from my growing pile of cookbooks
never-before-made recipes from my growing list of recipes bookmarked from other blogs
appetizers/tapas/small plates
vegetarian
canning/jarring/freezing/pickling
stocks & classic sauces
homemade pasta
indian food
vietnamese food

"that's it?!" cardigan was beyond irritated. "that's all this 100th blog celebration is about? your silly blog ideas? don't drag us into your esoteric thinking process. don't write about us if you're not going to write about us."

Special Assistant Hepzibah looked up from her notebook and nodded. "he's right, you know. you're being awfully selfish. they deserve better."

cardigan was surprised to have found an ally in burkie's industrious special assistant. "thanks, hep."

s.a. hepzibah stared daggers at him. "don't call me 'hep.'"

burkie looked abashed.

"hey, i want to look abashed!" marian pouted.

"do you even know what abashed means?" sierra asked. "i don't. and no, burkie, i don't need to take your class!"

"all right, guys. i'm sorry, you're right. next time, it's all about you, okay? in fact, we'll have a party."

"can i bring a date?"

"will there be a murder?"

"will it be a halloween party?"

"how many do i have to cook for?"

"forsooth, how many dirty dishes will i have to wash?"

"is that the correct use of forsooth?"

"surely you're not questioning my use of the word forsooth?!"

"i am, and don't call me shirley."

"i didn't call you shirley, i said surely. are you questioning my use of surely, now?"

"don't get your knickers in a twist, shakespeare, it's just a joke."

"these are not knickers, you lout, they're tights."

"knickers is such a cool word. i need to write a song about knickers."

marian snickered at the word knickers.

shakespeare and somebody else continued to bicker over knickers.

danny was considering new furniture for the Pub. perhaps wicker?

Mysterious Lurker revealed that her mickey mouse tattoo was, in fact, a sticker.

the lights began to flicker.

cardigan needed more liqour.