Greek Spice Mix Recipe

This business of having a blog since 2009 can get rather involved.  If I need a recipe, I check here, then all on my computer in the recipes folder, then on my external server.

Since I did not find the recipe I needed, it is time to publish this.  I did later find it splattered all over my drives so my annoyance is your reward.

This particular spice mix is flexible.  It originally came from a recipe to make Gyro meat.  One pound each of Lamb and Ground Beef, plus the spices, and you get something pretty close to what I have had in a Greek Restaurant.

However, since I have all sorts of people who find this blather that I call a blog, the recipe has been used in different ways.  

I can vouch for this spice mix being excellent on Air Fryer Chicken Parts.
It is excellent on Roast Pork.
It is excellent on a burger.

Since it works well with "milder meats" it would work well with Tofu also.
That's one for the vegan readers that come here.

The recipe is an old standby for me, I keep this in a jar on the counter.  When I am looking for something different, I sprinkle it on the raw protein, then cook.  

It's also good on veg like white rice.


Ingredients:

1 teaspoon Salt
1 teaspoon Thyme
1 teaspoon Ground Pepper

2 teaspoons Paprika
2 teaspoons Minced Garlic or Garlic Powder

1 Tablespoon Oregano
2 Tablespoons Dried Onion or Onion Powder


Process:
Mix all ingredients into a jar.
Shake to mix.
Use on your food as a rub or mix in as needed.

A Skeleton walked into a bar he said I need a beer and a mop

This just tells me that you should always know basic first aid, and be careful where you stop on the road.



He had a point.

Mikey and I were going West on I-84 and had just stopped for gas and lunch in Boise when our talk turned to our favorite book series. I, of course, was listing off all the fantasy series I'd enjoyed. LOTR, naturally. Dragonriders of Pern. Broken Earth. Percy Jackson. Discworld. Will Wight's Cradle Series. Terry Brooks' "Magic Kingdom for sale... Sold!"...

"Wait, WHAT?" said Mikey. "Terry Brooks? No man. No. You can't EVEN list that guy with the others. He's a hack!"

"What?" I said, while Mike grabbed another grape from the bag we'd snagged in Boise. "His stuff is fun! The Magic Kingdom series was, at least. And a good friend of mine was really into Shannara back..."

Mike made a retching noise. "SHANNARA? Oh God. That was... just the least creative rip-off of LOTR ever."

"We really enjoyed it."

"Oh you DID, did you? When was this?"

"Back when we were in middle school..."

"See? Middle school. You were hardly discerning readers back then." And then he started making horrific gross disgusting choking noises.

I thought he was just poking more fun at my tastes, but then I realized he really WAS choking on one of those grapes. By the time I figured it out, pulled over the car, and tried to help him get it dislodged, it was too late. :(

And it's haunted me ever since, the time when Mike died on the Oregon Trail of dissin' Terry.

What do you call a monkey in a mine field? A babooooom!

I have to say this one made me think about perspective.  Then I got up to check on the garden.  The sun got in my eyes and came back into the kitchen.  Because that is where the food is.  Lemon curd and Yogurt make for a part of a rather nice breakfast.

 

 Madness is one Thing, Stupidity is another Subject.

A man got a flat tyre right in front of a Mental Institution. He struggles to park his car on the side of the road.

He opens his car hood, gets a jack, spare wheel, wheel spanner, and unscrews the wheel with flat tire. Unfortunately, all the four nuts roll and fall into the sewer drain. The manhole cover cannot be opened; the nuts disappeared in the drain.

The man looks desperately left and right and sits down discouraged on the sidewalk.

An Inmate of the Institute, who had observed the entire scene from the beginning through the fence of the facility shouted at him: “Hey, you Mister! What are you doing here?”

He replies: “Don't ask questions, my friend. I got a flat tyre, and while changing the wheel, the wheel all four nuts fell into the drain.”

The inmate retorts: “You're making things complicated for yourself! Just take a nut from each of the other wheels, and then you’ll have three per wheel. That'll hold until the next gas pump or tire repairing station!”

The man does as he is told and shouts to the patient: “And what are you doing in this mental Institution?”

Inmate Answers ... "We are here for madness, my friend, not for stupidity!”

A Lizard In The Flowers

 I have one friend in particular Up North.  You know, anyone who I have to drive, say, more than an hour to be with is Up North.

In this case, she's way Up North.  Well above the Freeze Line in Boca Raton.  Up above the Mason Dixon Line.  In New Jersey.

When I tell her that one of my first memories of living in South Florida was when a Cuban Anole ran to hide.  It ran up my pant leg and ended up nestled in my shorts.  I had to kick my shoes off and "Drop Trou" right there to get the little critter out.  Yes, it was fine, my backyard is completely secluded and secure, I did not scare the horses or the neighbor.

No, it didn't bite.  And no, it survived the trip.  I let it loose in the flowers of the Bougainvillea right next to the pool.  

They're all over the place.  I hardly notice them any longer.  

I'm not fanatic about it, but I have been known to avoid stepping on one because they are harmless and have their own lizardly life to live.  For the most part, they are even beneficial to our environment eating insects that try to eat, well, me.

Me, or you, or that Buick.  Some of these insects here look like they can carry off a  Truck.  

 I do tend to plant things that are beneficial to the Monarch Butterflies here.  That creates plenty of cover for the other creatures that share my yard with me.  In fact, we have so many Monarchs here at any given time that it is possible to be a "Disney Princess" or "Disney Prince" just by walking into my yard.  More than once I have been told to stand still as there is a butterfly that has landed on my shoulder.

We were going to a garden center.  I like these places because they give me ideas.  I am constantly propagating plants here from cuttings, and we have needed to put some into the ground for quite a while.  If anything I am being slowed down because my own normal tendency would be to turn the property into a forest.  

I am working on building a Hibiscus Hedge under a window and we need some ground cover.  This is the issue.  In Florida, we have termites.  You either have them in your house now, or will have them.  It's a matter of time.  In fact I have come into the house and spotted one climbing my shirt on more than one occasion.  

You don't want wood based mulch against the house.  If so you are inviting them to dine on your biggest investment.  We went there looking for some stones and some ideas.  The garden already has the plants started and the landscape cloth in place, but mulch in a place where you have watering happen through irrigation is inviting problems.

So Stones.  Against the house.  Another one of those adjustments you make when you get here, you realize the way you were doing things Up North before you migrated here, you former Snowbird, do not work in the Tropics Adjacent Florida Sun.  

You had no idea there were more than one type, you started looking into it and your mind fogged up.  You don't want anything dark, because Dark Brown, Black Polished, and Charcoal would retain heat.  You are already running air conditioning 11 months of the year, and what passes for our "Winter" is about two weeks long.

If you ever want to see someone miserable, find a South Floridian where the high will be in (gasp!) the upper 60s like it was here in February.

We know!  We know who are tourists here because in February you are in Shorts and a T Shirt and don't have enough sense to cover up because damnit 65 is cold!

Snowbirds without a lick of sense... I'll tell you.  And get off my lawn!

When it gets that cold  the Iguanas can fall from the trees.  You haven't lived until you find a cold temperature stunned Iguana wake up in your trash can because that dark blue plastic box warms up fast and the creatures are cold blooded and their muscles don't work below 45.  

Don't put them in the trash can, you will only have to let them back out and that creates other problems.

But them and the snowbirds are best left to their own devices.  The other lizards?  They tend to be harmless as long as they aren't elected to office and head to the state capitol.

Those are the most toxic lizards of all.

Where do you learn to make banana splits? At sundae school!

This reminds me of planning out an endurance workout.  You set out a distance you intend to go, then you try to get there.  

Hopefully the rains are not too strong, and they are cooling while you are out.  Else the best made plans can go awry.



 
 The mayor from a small town hires a guy to paint the road to a city 30 miles away.

"We'll divide the road in 3 segments of 10 miles each. You can come get your paycheck after you finish each segment.", says the Mayor.

The guy accepts the offer and starts that same day.

He finishes the first segment after 3 days.

When he goes to the town hall to get his first paycheck, the mayor says "Wow, that was fast, try to keep this pace!", as he hands him the money.

The guy continues with the next segment. This time he spends 3 weeks painting the second segment.

He goes to the town hall again, and the mayor says "Man, you were really fast with the first section, but you really slowed down. Try to paint the last section faster.", while he hands him the second paycheck.

The guy proceeds with the last section. He takes 3 whole months until he's done. When he tells the mayor, he angrily says "Man, you were really fast with the first section. Then you took 3 weeks with the second section. And now 3 months?!?! I hope you have an explanation!!!"

"Well..." Says the guy. "The paint bucket was further away each time".

Why didn't the skeleton go to the disco? He had no body to go with!

 Saturday Morning, Sun isn't yet up.  I need to get going since the conditions are prime and I need to do laps around the giant gas bag in a barn in a park.

This little gem is here simply because I laughed at the punch line.

That and "Golden Retrievers are a Living Hug".  That's from the old movie SOB and if you don't remember it, go find it and watch.  It's a lock if you like celebs acting out of control and making you laugh.


It was a dark, stormy night and a marine was on his first assignment, guard duty.

A General stepped out taking his dog for a walk. The nervous young Private snapped to attention, made a perfect salute, and snapped out "Sir, Good Evening, Sir!"

The General, out for some relaxation, returned the salute and said "Good evening soldier, nice night, isn't it?"

Well it wasn't a nice night, but the Private wasn't going to disagree with the General, so the he saluted again and replied "Sir, Yes Sir!".

The General continued, "You know there's something about a stormy night that I find soothing, it's really relaxing. Don't you agree?"

The Private didn't agree, but them the private was just a private, and responded "Sir, Yes Sir!"

The General, pointing at the dog, "This is a Golden Retriever, the best type of dog to train."

The Private glanced at the dog, saluted yet again and said "Sir, Yes Sir!"

The General continued "I got this dog for my wife."

The Private simply said "Good trade Sir!"

Rack, After a workout I am not really inclined to pay a cheese tax.

I train, hard.

My doctor is amazed at what I do "for entertainment" on the trails.  I suppose that I could "dial it back" and still get enough exercise.

Or not.

I have been training hard since I was a teenager, and I am not about to stop now.

By that I mean I have been cycling a marathon three times a week, steadily, for more than a year.  

I keep records.  On a spreadsheet.  Because, of course I would.  It's my IT training.

The spreadsheet has areas for all sorts of information including Weight, BMI, conditions, Distances in two sports, and so forth.  

Start out slow and add columns when you need them.  After all, Libre Office wants you to use their software and I would prefer do as they say.

It would be "untowards" if I didn't.

But after training, hard, for just more than two hours, and coming home, I want to shower and then lunch.

We have a routine.  I get my odds and ends inside the house, then the bike, then I can take Rack the McNab SuperDog(TM) out back.  

Lately he has decided that I am too slow and he lets himself out.  The front door.  And goes next door and waters their flower box for them.  Leg in the air, wave it round like you just don't care.

I am able to unstrap the bike from the Jeep in that time and typically get it inside the house while Rack is "visiting".  The block is quiet in the pre-lunch hour so I don't have to worry.

But today, wet nose was insistent.  This isn't new.

If my feet hit the floor, my 14 year old dog wants outside.  If I am in the kitchen, he follows me in.

Today was a cheese pizza with toasted Shallots on top.  It makes for a fragrant lunch, sweet and savory at the same time.  Trust me on this one, Shallots on top of a Pizza are an interesting treat.

Since I am constantly training, I am on a training diet.  I may have "Cheat Days" here and there, I am too good of a baker not to.  I do know exactly what goes into these personal pizzas so that I am not overdoing calories and so that I hit the Protein count that my Macros demand.  30g per meal.

While I am slicing cheeses to go on top of the prefab crust, AKA a Pita, I am being stared down.  Of course I am, because I am in the kitchen.  

The thing is that with an Old Dog, you really don't want to push a lot of protein into them.  They may love cheese, and this one is a good low moisture Mozzarella, but since it is relatively high in protein, it is difficult for a dog to process with Old Kidneys.

He is on a training diet too, or rather one I developed with the Vet so that he may last a couple more years.  He's got a long list of Old Boy issues, and about 7 different medicines to support all of that.

It used to be that I could say "Not For Dogs" and he'd hear it.  Then he'd slink away and let me finish the task at hand.  Now, he is either deaf or selectively deaf and I don't trust that he will hear that.  

The solution is to shave a thin piece of cheese and let him have just that morsel while I am preparing my own lunch.

It usually does the trick.

Usually.  

I am his job.  He watches for me.  He watches me.  He is my shadow.  He is at my right elbow now, and most of the day when I am home and settled in.

I hear the ring on the oven, and bring the pizza out to the coffee table.  It has a hinge on the top so that it can be raised just enough that Rack can't get his muzzle onto the table.  I am safe because if I walked off, that pizza would vanish.

Good stuff because the sauce is a 1970s reverse engineered Pizza Sauce.  As good as the best pizza parlor would have had anywhere.  None of that canned or jarred garbage for us!

After finishing the lunch, I have to remember to block off the front door.  There is a floor to ceiling (nearly) window in the door.  Hurricane Impact Glass.  It gives me a great view to the street and people coming and going.  

The problem there is that Mr Cheese Hound sees it too.  He's decided that anyone walking or driving down my block deserves commentary.  Loud Commentary.  

I have a fabric gate that I made about 25 years ago that I place in front of the lower half of the window so that Rack can't see out.  If he did any delivery truck would be yelled at, and if the driver dared to come up the driveway, hilarity would ensue.

Since everyone has deliveries these days from multiple web sites and multiple shipping companies, it means that we are greeted with announcements in Dog.

"Rack you don't have to do that.  Go in your corner."

I'm ignored

"Rack Stop."

I'm ignored with a fusillade of barking.

"Rack STOP!"

He is greeted with a flying hedgehog soft plush.  My aim is purposely rubbish.  It never hits him but comes close enough to break his concentration.  It sometimes comes close enough to break some odds and ends on the tables.

I have to stop tossing the Hedgehog.  The last time it bounced off the Hurricane Window and fell behind the TV Coffin.

The TV Coffin is a large dark cabinet that reminds me of my credenza from my office in the working days.  It has an elevator that never works right because power here is so dirty here and full of power pops.  It confuses the electronics.

"RACK STOP!"  Hedgehog flies again.  Rack scrambles out of the room.  Hedgehog gets wedged under the couch.

I give up, 

At least I am able to have the rest of that glass of Iced Tea.

"No Rack, not for dogs".

No more cheese on the plate anyway.  Since the carbo crash hour is happening.  I'm resting after burning 2000 calories going round in big circles around the gas bag in the barn in the park.

But that delivered package?  A big bag of Root Beer Barrels.  

"No, Rack, that's not for dogs.  Here, sniff."

Annoying furry little idiot and I wouldn't have it any other way.

How come a man driving a train got struck by lightning? He was a good conductor.

 Sunday Morning.  Sunrise.  Getting ready to go to the park.  Winds are 14 gust 22 mph, so I am looking forward to getting pushed west with little or no effort.

Of course, what goes up must come down, so on that big 4.5 mile loop, it will be a fight to get back to the trailhead.  

Oh well, Onward and Round and Round I go!

Meanwhile, here's a groaner for you.  Well told, but still a groaner!



A man was waiting for his wife to give birth.

The doctor came and informed the dad that his son was born without a torso, arms, or legs. The son was just a head!

But the dad loved his son and raised him as well as he could. Eighteen years later, the son was old enough for his first drink. The dad took him to a bar, tearfully told him he was proud of him, and ordered the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously, the boy took his first sip of alcohol.

Swoooop! A torso popped out!

The bar was dead silent, then burst into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begged his son to drink again. The patrons chanted, "Take another drink! Take another drink!" The bartender shook his head in dismay.

Swoooop! Two arms popped out!

The bar went wild. The father, crying and wailing, begged his son to drink again. The patrons chanted, "Take another drink! Take another drink!" But the bartender ignored the whole affair.

By this time, the boy was getting tipsy. With his new hands, he reached down, grabbed the drink, and guzzled the last of it.

Swoooop! Two legs popped out.

The bar was in chaos. The father wept with joy. The boy stood up on his new legs. He stumbled to the left. He stumbled to the right. Then he stumbled through the front door and into the street, where a truck ran him over.

The bar fell silent. The father moaned with grief. The bartender merely sighed and said, "He should have quit while he was a head."

Why do crabs never give to charity? Because they’re shellfish.

 I will say that since I have moved from the Northeast, I haven't had a decent crab cake.  It is probably why I aggressively hunt for creative recipes and post them here.  "Eating Well Is It's Own Reward", but I am the kind of person who can churn butter in my own kitchen, then use it to make buttermilk for Biscuits.

Jus' Sayin', but do search for the tag "Recipe" here.  I have some good ones and they're all tested.




The Hubby and Wife

After 35 years of marriage, a husband and wife came to see a therapist. 

When asked what the problem was, the wife went into a tirade listing every problem they had ever had in the years they had been married. On and on and on: neglect, lack of intimacy, emptiness, loneliness, feeling unloved and unlovable, an entire laundry list of unmet needs she had endured.

Finally, after allowing this for a sufficient length of time, the therapist got up, walked around the desk and after asking the wife to stand, he embraced and kissed her long and passionately as her husband watched - with a raised eyebrow. The woman shut up and quietly sat down as though in a daze.

The therapist turned to the husband and said, "This is what your wife needs at least 3 times a week. Can you do this?" "Well, I can drop her off here on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Fridays, I fish"

A Rooster I Call Colonel Sanders

For a while I was going to Key West, FL.  A great place to walk around, see what is happening.  A Drinking Town with a Fishing Problem I once saw on a T Shirt there. 

It has been turning into a tourist trap to catch a few dollars from the cruise ships that dock there for the afternoon.  That truly does not interest me.

I was amused that, while walking around through Old Town, there were chickens nesting in the shrubbery.  

We did not have such a thing where I had come from, either in Cherry Hill, NJ, or Philadelphia, PA.  It doesn't mean that some had not escaped, I just never saw evidence of them.

Your standard issue chickens.  Laying standard issue hen's eggs.  Doing what Chickens would do I suppose, scratching around in the dirt, crossing the road, looking for food, making way too much noise way too early.

This is why I was so surprised that we had a rooster turn up here in Wilton Manors.  We have ducks.  Way too many of the beasts.  They are supposed to be "Water Fowl" and what they do is "Sidewalk Foul".  I see the evidence of ducks everywhere I go here.

The Rooster on the other side of the coin, well, he's the lead bird.  He had just shown up and decided to keep home on one specific corner.  He does tolerate the ducks here but he chases them around the neighborhood.  

There is one drawback to having roosters in the yard.  They're noisy.  It is why you don't see a lot of roosters.  They don't allow you to sleep.  It isn't that they call at dawn, or only at dawn.  They call for a couple hours before dawn.  

Mind you, I am up about 2 hours before dawn on most mornings, so I hear him, from at least two blocks away.  At 5AM.

I walk out into the backyard with my headphones on.  Turning on the internet radio, tuning into the news program on CBC or BBC, I will hear him calling out from about a quarter mile away.

He's alone.  Maybe that is why he is constantly calling out at predawn 5AM, trying to find a hen to spend some time with.  But he is loud, and his call floats on the breezes.

There is another rooster about a half mile in the other direction from me.  That one calls frequently from the other side of the tracks.  I can hear him if it is quiet and the winds are just right.

Then again, it could just be that he relocated to where this one is.  Or maybe, he Was Relocated by someone.  I don't know.  As long as I don't have to hear him inside the house.

As I walk Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) on his first 2 mile walk of the day.  I see the rooster and he's going to try to avoid us.  You see, I do know why the chicken crosses the road.  It is to avoid my dog.

But as we pass, he relaxes and once out of sight, you hear that call we all know.  Yes, it does sound just like that.  5:30AM wake up call, neighbors.

Good luck with that.  At least the dirty ducks are quiet, and the flocks of feral parrots don't get loud until the sun is up.

Did you know, the Vatican provides a special place of work to the pope's dentist? It's called The Listerine Chapel.

Self Care is all about taking steps to repair the damage that The World does to you.  You define what that is.  In my case, it's Sunday, I'm going to the park to do large lazy circles around a giant gas bag parked in a barn at 14 mph.  That is my church.

If God is Everywhere, Everywhere is Holy.

In your case, take care of yourselves, I am sure you can figure something out.

Meanwhile, I am looking forward to getting my heart rate up above 150 or 160 for a sustained bit.  Can you keep up?  ON YER LEFT!

Since it is Sunday, here is a gem for you!


 

A Priest was being honored with an award at his retirement dinner having served the parish for 30 years, and to mark the occasion, a prominent member of the congregation, a U.S. Supreme Court Justice, was asked to give the presentation and make a short speech afterward.  Everyone was excited to hear the Justice’s remarks, however he was delayed in traffic, so the Priest decided to fill in and make a few remarks of his own while they were waiting:

“I got my first impression of this parish from the very first confession that I heard here, and I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place.  The first person who entered my confessional told me that he had burglarized his next-door neighbor’s house, stole 3 TVs, and lied about it to the police when questioned.  He got away with it. 

He stole money from his parents and his employer.  He had an affair with his boss’s wife, had sex with his boss’s 14-year-old daughter, and gave an STD to his sister-in-law.  He was arrested for indecent exposure and has taken illegal drugs.

I was appalled that any one person could commit so many terrible acts, but as time went on, I saw that my flock here were not all like that, and that I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people.”

Just as the Priest was finishing his remarks, the Justice arrived, to a standing ovation, as he motioned for the room to quiet down.  He made profuse apologies for his late arrival and immediately began his presentation: 

"I'll never forget the first day our parish Priest arrived,” said the Justice.  "In fact, I had the honor of being the very first person to go to him for confession."

Two peanuts were walking down the street. One was a salted.

It is time for a two-fer before I disappear into the kitchen.  We're running low-ish on sandwich rolls and I'm really feeling like I need to make a fine Brioche so I can make some proper Barbecue Pork at dinner.  Between that and making more Dog Food, I'll have a busy day.

Oh and I simply didn't "get" the second one until I read it a couple times.  The spelling was atrocious even for US English, but it did make sense then.  This coming from a "Yank" who learned English from BBC World Service on Shortwave in my childhood home in New Jersey and was winning spelling bees all through elementary school.  

Meh, takes all kinds I guess, but education always shines through.



 

A rabbit goes into the job center and says have you got a job for a rabbit?

The manager says we haven't got any jobs for rabbits, and I don't think we'll ever have a job for a rabbit.

The rabbit says do you mind if I come in now and again to see if you've got jobs for rabbits? 
The manager says no problem come in whenever.

Well every morning at 10 o'clock the rabbit comes in and says have you got any jobs for rabbits? 
The manager says there's no jobs for rabbits, and there never will be.

A few days later an American comes into the job center wearing a Stetson looking very important. He says 'you got any rabbits looking for work?' 
The manager is amazed. He says there's a rabbit who comes through that door at 10am everyday who's looking for work. I'm sure he'll be interested.

Anyway next day at 10am the rabbit comes in. The manager says to him you won't believe this. It's finally happened. There's a man here looking for rabbits to employ. I didn't think this would ever happen but it has happened.

The rabbit says what's the job? The American says we're filming Watership Down on Palm Beach, and we're looking for rabbits, just like yourself, to play the parts.

The rabbit says "Acting? Piss off, I'm an electrician."





  The Wrong Profession

A Banker, an Architect, and a Tailor all make it onto a TV game show. The 3 contestants all need to cross a narrow beam that is raised high up into the air. Whoever of the 3 crosses the beam first, wins 1 million dollars. Slip or loose your balance, and you fall nearly 40ft into the water below.

The banker eyes things up then shrugs and says "ya know, honestly I already am a multimillionaire. I know a big risk when I see one so I'm out. I won't be attempting it."

It now moves onto the Architect who starts using their knowledge to think smart. They grab a spare piece of scaffolding, and ties 2 bricks on each end. Holding the pole as low as they can, the Architect was able to make their center of gravity below the balance beam, giving a significant advantage. They slowly and carefully start advancing towards the million dollar price fully aware at what is at stake.

The Tailor sees what the Architect is up to but hesitates and freezes desperately searching for a solution of what to do. As time slips away he sees the Architect moving closer and closer to the prize, realizing he likely cannot make it in time even with a perfect strategy. The Tailor sighs and lowers their head finally admitting, "I'm use to things hanging by a thread, but I just really don't think I'm cut out for this."

April Fools Day - Or Amateur Day. You Decide.

I mean really.

This is a day where everyone thinks up little jokes to play on friends.  They usually fall flat and someone gets their feelings hurt.

I usually do a lot of jokes myself.  In fact I drop a lot of what can be called "Dad Jokes" on the weekend.  All could be told in a high school class, most in an elementary school with some explanation I am sure. 

Hey! what can I say.   I do have a little story though.

I used to work with someone, Sam.  It was the nick he went by so I guess no real names were used.  Nice enough guy but he was an intense one.

Sam had a rapport with the five Ukrainian programmers we had on staff.  The ladies were all excellent and some were struggling with English.  

One, Inna, came to me completely frustrated with her English.  Flailing her hands around I waited for her to calm down.  Grasping those now still hands, I merely told her "Inna, No matter what, I will help you".  

She said that Sam was learning Russian Language obscenities and swearing all over the office.  She was deeply uncomfortable with it.  When I asked what he was saying, she blushed and insisted that she could not say it because it was so bad.

I said "Inna, I have an idea".  

"Teach me a word.  Something sounding rude in English but it should be very common or 'nice' for all audiences."  

I then explained that I will use this word at him, publicly and really get him all worked up, but she had to explain to the other ladies what is happening and since the one who is teaching him the rude words is out of the office for two weeks, we were going to play a prank on him.

I think I made a friend and an ally then with the plan.

For the next two weeks I was calling old Sammy a "Tsviatok".  That is what I remember the transliteration to be.  It means "Flower", and if spat out by an American, it sounded really rude.

The whole office did not know what was going on and any time Sammy started up, I would sound off "What is that little Tsviatok getting into now?!".

Everyone was aware that something was up.  

When asked, I would simply say "I like you too much to tell you, let's just keep it a secret."  That usually did enough to quiet the flames.

Eventually "Management" got involved.  I was called into a Closed Door Meeting.  I have caused Closed Door Meetings many times myself, I had a privileged place in the organization and was treated as Someone Who Will Be Promoted As Soon As We Can.

My direct managers asked me point blank and said this is becoming a problem.

When I told them the story and that it meant "Flower" the laugh was loud enough to be heard outside the closed doors.

The next day, I was in front of both managers, their boss, and Sammy.  Sammy said I know what that means!

I said "Sammy stop swearing, especially in front of the bosses!".

"It isn't a swear, it means Flower!" said Sammy.

I simply repeated what I said to the bosses in that closed door meeting.  I liked Sammy but I could see that he was really embarrassed at what happened and that most of the office was in on the joke by that point.  

It turned out that the person who he was most friendly in the five Ukrainian ladies, Slava, had clued him in that morning what was going on.  

So the trap got sprung and everyone knew what was up.

Remember though, keep it light.  Someone may be uncomfortable with your little prank.

I know Sammy was.