|Catholic authorities in Croatia have opened a coffee shop that lets customers pay for drinks with prayers. |
The Jedro cafe in Zagreb charges four Our Fathers for a cappuccino and a whopping five Hail Marys for a Coca-Cola, the highest-priced beverage on the menu.
"We have so many people coming here now that we are already up to 20 tables," said a spokesman. "It is growing all the time."
Being the capitalist-centric person that I am, I can't help but wonder if two laps around the beads (a.k.a. rosaries) is what the Jedro cafe pays for the beans from its supplier. Or perhaps it's the Supplier, and the coffee is made from the wine that was made from the water. But I digress...
Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been a gazillion years since my last confession, and these are my sins:
Guess my list was kinda long.
As an avid reader of them myself, I appreciated this entry in the Wit & Wisdom column of the same magazine:
|"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure."|
Clarence Darrow, quoted in the Birmingham, Alabama Post
Robert treated us to breakfast at the Farmers Market Restaurant this morning, and I had the most delicious French Toast that I've had in a long, long time. I don't know if it's because I haven't had much bread in the last month or so, or because the bread was so doughy—the way I love it.
I worked out from 4:00-5:00 today, deciding on a moderate pace.
I met Joe, Dale, and Ben at On The Border in Cary for dinner, and once there, Joe told me that Steve was joining us as well.
I managed to watch the four of them go through five bowls of tortilla chips, along with some salsa and con queso dip (which I absolutely love, love, love), without partaking myself. I had the Sizzling Fajita Salad with Steak, which was absolutely delicious.
Joe and I stopped over at the nearby Caribou for some coffee after dinner, where he worked a guy across the room from us on his laptop. Ironically, that ended up winning me a Best Actor in a Supporting Role as noted here.
And, finally, the world has provided meaning to my wearing shorts year round. However I can help...
We played about five games of pool at Flex, where it was karaoke night hosted by none other than Tequila Rose.
Marcus, who hasn't been there in quite a while was back, and explained that his absence was due to a recent DUI, which he got so close to home that he ended up pulling over for the ticket—in his driveway.
He also told me that he'd bought himself a home karaoke machine, and I asked a little too quickly I think, "Have you ever recorded yourself singing?" I asked this, because that's how I first realized that I can't sing without hearing the melody (either the notes of the music or someone else singing it).
He responded, "No, but I sing on my web cam and ask people to critique me."