Welcome to Hell

Welcome to hell. Please take a number. Her Evilness will be with you when she damn well feels like it.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Peeee eSSSS

today i added a few photos to my Redbubble account, which is where i sell my photography.  swing by, see if you like anything (i sell cards for cheap), and support my constant attempts to become a freelance writer/artist!

shameless blog plugging

request, request:  would y'all consider dropping by the FaceSpace and liking my page for Satan Goes To Sing Sing???

i've got this crazy notion that i'm gonna start telling people on facebook when i post, so nobody has to come check the page obsessively... if anyone even does that.  ha. 

consider this your shameless blog plug for the day.  and sometime today, i might even get up the funny to write a real post.  eh?

Saturday, March 26, 2011

UPDATE: i think i know now why my cat went so nuts

remember this?
today we happened to run across my landlady, and it seems that she's been keeping LBC in her house for the past two days.  the reason for this, evidently, is because she thought no one was taking care of her, since our down-the-street neighbor had moved out. 

first things first, ???
THEN, we found out that the above neighbor had kept LBC in his house for the week she went missing, because he was going to take her, when he moved out, to LONDON with him!!!

thankfully she's ninja kitty, and she escaped.

i kinda freaked out, post-reason to actually freak out.  he's been gone for days.  but OMG someone almost abducted my fucking cat!
this is my fault i think, for having a collar on her, but procrastinating getting her a tag with her damn name and my phone number on it!

but.  my landlady did take her to the vet, and it turns out, she's current on her shots, healthy, and already spayed!  so yay, i don't have to do that.  she was probably just spooked that we, too, would capture her and force her to stay inside for a week.  she's not really that kind of cat.

but relieved, i am.  thus concludes your daily adventures of this cat lady.

Friday, March 25, 2011

i'm a real blogger now!

i say this because The Bloggess started following my Twitter.  and i basically feel like the best person on the planet right now.

Thanks Jenny, from the bottom of my little bloggy heart!


i will freely admit to being a Mac aficionado and near-stalker.  i own 3 of their computers.  i have an ipod.  the ipod i got new, and all 3 computers are used.  the first two i didn't even pay for.  i was lucky on that, to have the right friends at the right times. 
the third, the one i'm typing on now, i got for $350.

the funniest part is that i still have all 3 computers.  so we have six damn laptops under our roof - 2 that belong to the photobooth company, 1 P.C. (patooeey!) for Matt.... and my collection of 3.  best part?  all 3 of them still work. 
my first was an iBook G3.  the old bulky white ones, circa 2001.  i got it for free because the university was going to get rid of it, and i had the right friend in the tech department.  i used that sucker for years.  it didn't have nearly enough anything - hard drive space, memory, etc - but it was my first, and i loved it so. 
me being me, i collaged it.

my second gifted laptop (much thanks and love to Todd, who is lovely) was a PowerBook G4.  it worked very well for me for a while.  unfortunately it developed a teeeenny tiny problem - it broke at both of the hinges.  that meant no actual lap topping.  i had to prop up the screen to use it.  which was fine, for a while.  but then the screen starting going out unpredictably. 
never did get around to collaging it, unfortunately.  it does have a sticker.

soooo i went on a search (aka asked my techbuddy and fellow mac lover if he knew anyone with an older model kicking around, and of course he did) and voila! 
third laptop was mine.  it's a MacBook Pro, from 2006 or 2007.  it doesn't have the neato magnetic closure, but it has two finger scroll (which i oh-so-adore).
i also collaged the shit out of it.  because, of course.  it's what i fucking do.

 the interesting things about used computers is that they come with little quirks.  nothing that will make you utterly insane, but just, things that are...special.
for example, this fine laptop here has a non-functional DVD drive.  and weirdo applications i've never heard of and don't use, that are leftover from the original owner.  stuff like that. 
 it has its little issues - mostly a lack of hard drive space (trend...), and this weird thing with iTunes i can't figure out, for the life of me.  i think one of the speakers is cutting in and out, and it's got a few weird spots on the screen.

none of these things are the end of the world, of course. 
but like any person who loves some classy electronics that are easy to use (because i am a technotard, let there be no mistake on that end), i want to have something nice.  brand new. 
ahem.  glowingly awesome.

for example:
i want a new iPod.  not because the old one doesn't work, but because it won't hold all my music.  that, and my brother still doesn't have an mp3 player, and i'd like to donate mine to him once i get a newbie.

and of course, i want the iPhone.  i have a phone.  it works.  and yet...

look at it.  looook at it!  mesmerizing.  really. 

and just in case i didn't already have Mac Lust really really really bad...
they came out with the iPad.  which i will admit is somewhat unfortunately named, but i WANT WANT one.  for really no good reason, because i have a laptop which i could carry anywhere, but it's a bit heavy, and OMG iPad, it's light and portable and i could read my list of 4,000 blogs while randomly walking about, and it would fit in my purse.  so, plus.  and - bookreader! 

what i really want, more than any of the above items, is the just-hit-the-shelves brand spanking new MacBook Pro.  it's fucking gorgeous.  and since i haven't bought a brand new computer since 2003 (for college, and it was a Dell *patooeey!* and not a laptop), i think i really deserve one.

of course, the problem is that i can't afford one.  and it's a steep problem.  because if i'm getting a new computer, i'm going all out.  i'm getting the most memory, biggest hard drive, etc.  i'm getting good programs, and i know that Macs last for-fucking-ever - after all, this computer is from 2006 and still kicking juuuust fine - know anyone with a P.C. (patooeey!) laptop that works well, that is from 2006??? i don't either.
the point of that tangent, is that i'd been spending a whole lot of money on what i want.  to the tune of nearly $3,200.
but it would be really, really nice.  not to mention top of the fucking line.

just in case all this MacLust wasn't enough, i actually applied to work at a Mac store near me, today. 
for the record, their application process (all online, of course) is actually really easy to do, unlike some tediously, hideously long applications that ask you insane questions that have no right answers *coughBorderscough* and take forfuckingever and make you want to tear your hair out by the time you're done.
and i liked how they have a description for all of their jobs, and they say which openings they have, in which places.  i likey.

minions, i WILL work at Mac.  i am gonna will this fucking job into existence.  not for the discount (dear FSM, i hope they have a discount), but because i think i would seriously LOVE LOVE LOVE working there.  plus, know what else would be amazing?  being able to transfer to any city that has a Mac store.  i think that would be an utter WIN.

well.  now that i've bored you all stiff with my iDrool unholy obsession (you guys know what to buy me on my birthday this year, eh?), let's move on to other things. 

last night, in a spectacular whirlwindy lack of judgment, i drank almost half a bottle of scotch.
now, this might kill a mere mortal.  however i'm irish and scottish, and i'm pretty sure this stuff runs in my veins, or there's a hereditary awesomeness that allows me to drink that much scotch, not throw up, and then wake up not wanting to die.  i. win.

granted, i can't do that with 95% of anything else alcoholic (i do pretty well with beer), but scotch has never gotten me into the type of trouble that say, 3 vodka drinks will. 

only single malts are worthy.

to be fair, i did NOT intend to inhale half the bottle.  i just started drinking.  and i did it slowly enough that i was drinking for some time, and yet not drunk.  by this time, i had poured myself another dram (at least i was classy enough to use a glass, and not drink from the bottle, eh?), i noticed that there was only about an inch or so in the bottle.  so i just poured that in my glass, too.

and about 1/4 of my way into that rather full glass, i realized just how drunk i was.  it was special.  the saga is captured on my twitter, kinda.  really, i should have been tweeting the entire time, it would have been epic. 

in other dorky news, i spotted my first rose from my rosebush a few days ago.  this makes me happy for two reasons:  one, yayy, roses!!!  and two, i managed to not kill a plant.  i win!!

Thursday, March 24, 2011

holy shit...

i've been blogging for a whole year.
actually, it doesn't seem that long.

and it isn't all that long, considering how many people i know that have been blogging (on the same site!!!) for ten years or more...
but hell.  it's mah bloggy birthday!
i'm having cake!

or maybe brownies.  brownies are good too.

thanks for sticking with me for a year, o Awesome Minions, and here's to another year at least!



fuck, now what???

please, go look at that, and help me.

that is my cat LBC on her best behavior, tonight.  she is acting like a fucking crazy person.  even crazier than me.  there is much hissing, and growling, and etcetera.
this is after a few days of being around sporadically, preceded by an absence of 5 or so days.  she's an ex street cat, so i wasn't completely frantic when she didn't show up for a bit, but she is acting so insane and has been for the past few days... what the holy fuck??

is she in heat?  i have no idea, never been around a cat in heat, all of my previous cats have been spayed before it ever got to that.  i called a vet, waiting to hear a response.

in the meantime, oh minions of the interwebs,


Sunday, March 20, 2011

i take pictures of shit.

i've told you before that i work wedding gigs with a photobooth.

last night (well, actually fri and sat both) i was doing exactly that.  and i was bored enough to think of posting what i do while working one of these events. 

basically, these events consist of setting up the photobooth (that sounds sooo much easier than it is...), and a lot of waiting around.

this is your average view of a gig, before all the people get there.  

flowers, guest book, band.  this is how bored i am.  i take pictures of wedding shit.

some weddings choose to have a scrapbook.  and when they do, you spend the entire evening doing the same thing:

guest:  so... how does this thang work???
me:  there are signs allllll over the photobooth, telling you everything you could possibly need to know, you dipshit.   you go inside, and press the (brightly-lit) red button.  it takes four photos, and then you get a strip for you, and one goes in the scrapbook! ::mimics enthusiasm::

well, to be fair, i do that at every photobooth event.

the scrapbook-specific part is that you paste all of the photos into the scrapbook (easy), and make sure the guests don't write all over the entire page (really fucking hard).  despite telling each person exactly where to write, they ignore you about 60% of the time, and then get all huffy when you tell them they've got to fit into their space.  it's pretty special. 

and then you get the really special guests.  the kind that are sloshing champagne with maraschino cherries (EEEEEEWWWWWWW i hate those damn things.  plus, in champagne, can you get any more tacky???) all over the place, and taking pictures like these:

(yes, that's one of their actual photos, and yes, i am an asshole.)
and after the photos, they almost ruin the scrapbook a few times with their nasty drinks, because they are too drunk to carry them like a normal person, and they are sloshing them everywhere.

yeah.  these people, they make me want to brain them with a champagne flute. 

but sometimes, you get delicious wedding food!  in the above case, that's chicken marsala over garlic mashed potatoes, and it was SO DAMN GOOD.

but the best part about coming home from weddings???



bouquets.  they're simple to get, and they are always gorgeous.

to round off this particular post with absolutely nothing relating to weddings, here's some of the stuff i caught at the St. Paddy's parade:

your normal, standard catch.

and then, The Matt caught this for me.  look at it.
What The Fuck???  this is plainly a roach clip.

you could protest and tell me it's a hair clip or some shit.  many people were using them as such.  but it's not a fucking barrette.  it's a Roach Clip.
i have proof.
and more proof. 
and yet more proof. 

sure, they were also worn in hair in the seventies, usually by kids who didn't know exactly what they were.
but the genesis??  plainly, a device for smoking pot.
and that is EXACTLY what i am about to do with it.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

the latest news in kitchen explosions

go here for more of my favorite comics.  it's kinda like porn, only with way, way more humor involved.
there is so much win to this comic, i can't even describe it.  just go to the website and hit "start" on the right-hand toolbar, and thank me later after you read the whole thing from the beginning.

anyhow, on to the kitchens part.

i am probably the stupidest person ever when it comes to cooking things, because i think things like, "hmm, four eggs?  only have two...  i'll just do that.  it'll be fine!!"
and i have (probably) well-intentioned people telling me to give up and leave well enough alone/use a new recipe/stop cooking for fucks sake, but i get this little toddler-like perverse sense of "No, i'm gonna do it MYSELF!!" when it comes to things i really want to conquer.
like brownies.

behold my most recent attempt at the brownie:

i know, pathetic.  not because of its looks, but because of its strange texture - fudgy, yet gritty.  i can only imagine (other than the eggs part) it's because i combined the ingredients in the incorrect order, because i did, presuming that it wouldn't make a difference.

i WILL conquer the brownies, if it takes me an army.  and another hard-core mixer.

in other news, it's Happy Irish Day (me being a degenerate Heathen i don't exactly support saints, but Hey Let's Get Drunk and Yay Irish!!! is fine by me), and to this end i made potato soup last night.

the kicker is that i made it from ingredients that were thrown to me during a St. Paddy's Parade.  yes, the south does it like that.  behold!!

(by the way, these carrots are UTTERLY enormous.  monster sized carrots.  i ended up only using 2 of them in the soup, and that was plenty.  by the way, anyone know what else to do with a whole damn drawer full of carrots???)

yum.  i also put mushrooms in my soup.  and cheese.  and NOW, i'm gonna go eat some of it.

now go drink a beer!  it's traditional.  better yet, drink SEVERAL BEERS!!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

this is how you can tell i am a hard-core nerd. other than pictures of me dressing up as hermione for the HP premieres...

non-Harry Potter fans might want to skip this one. 
but yeah, this is awesome.

also?? definitely thinking about blasting this, next time i'm waiting in line for the last (sob!) HP movie.
because i'm classy like that.

the smellogram

"...i wish i could just, open my phone, and give you a whiff of what i'm burning," anthony said.  "why don't we have that??"

"yeah, remember when we were promised things like Smell-O-Vision and shit?  we need some of that.  of course, you know what it would end up being used for..."

"well i'd use it to make you jealous of what i'm smoking."

..."dude.  imagine the first text a twelve-year-old would send.  oh crap!"

"Fuck a 12 year old, i would send that shit!"  he said.

"yeah, me too," i admitted.  "i'd send you a card:  Thanks For Being A Good Friend Through All the Shit!!"

ladies and gentlemen, the Smellogram. 

it would immediately be used for fart jokes.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Going to Disneyland

Going to Disneyland
Because Sometimes, This Happens

Picture it:  freshman year in college.  Friday night, around eleven p.m.  My roommate, and our respective boyfriends really, really wanted to get stoned, but all of us were completely out of pot. 

Angie’s boyfriend Greg said he thought he could get us something, and left in pursuit of the Holy Marijuana Grail.  Angie, Ronny (my ex) and I were chilling in our double room, played a very half-hearted game of Drinking Jenga.  Hey, those blocks are way more fun when they aren’t blank.  Especially when they say things like, “Take off everything but one sock.”

After almost two hours, Greg came back with a nice, but Very Small nugget.  “It was only five dollars,” he bragged. 

I sighed.  “Greg, that was a total rip-off.  There is no way that will get all of us high.  I bet we’ll barely get a hit each.”

“Yeah, but my friend promised this is Really Good.  So it’s gonna be great.” 

So, we had pot.  Unfortunately, none of us had thought about what we were going to smoke it out of.  The nearest thing to a pipe any of us had was a plastic Mardi Gras pipe (see example of one I caught recently, here).  

 It was cheap plastic, and had no bowl whatsoever.  I jury-rigged a bowl by molding some aluminum foil around the sides of the plastic pipe, and punching holes in it with a safety pin.  
Classy, I know.  Chalk it up to freshman year.  Near smoking disaster successfully averted, we grabbed our munchies – a bag of Doritos, a bag of marshmallows, and a bag of Twizzlers – and set off. 

We walked about a hundred yards from our dorm.  At the time, there was this great abandoned house on campus (now tragically destroyed in the name of progress).  Not many people knew it was there, because it was hidden behind a bunch of trees.  We sat down behind the house, on a fallen log. 

And I was right about that teeny nugget.  It gave four people a hit.  Not a big hit, or a teeny hit, just a normal hit.  I was pretty bummed.  I really didn’t expect to get very high, good pot or not.  But fifteen minutes later…

“Ohmygod, I can see Disneyworld!  Can you see it?”  said Ronny. 
“What the fuck were you smoking, dude?  What are you staring at?” I said.  But it was pointless.  Ronny was totally in his own world, which, evidently, was in some seriously psychedelic colors.  Greg and Angie had slid off the log, and looked like they were holding each other up, pretty unsuccessfully.  And I had powered through most of the Twizzlers already. 

“Shit, I think there is someone in that house!”  said Greg. 
“That’s impossible, there’s nothing in there,” I said.  But he was insistent.  He wanted to check it out.  So Greg and I walked to the back door, leaving Angie drooling on the log, and Ronny still mumbling about cartoon characters. 

The house must have been abandoned in the sixties, because it still had the vintage refrigerator and wallpaper, not to mention a really hideous modern chandelier.  Greg and I walked through most of the house, keeping out of the master bedroom, which had a very dubious floor.  We established that no, there was not anyone in the house.  Nor was there anything of interest in the fridge.  Greg and I exited the house, and resumed our positions on the log.

This was the highest I had ever been in my life!  I was impressed!  Maybe that little bud had something going for it after all…

But at the same time, I felt almost super-glued to the log.  Also, I was pretty sure Angie was asleep on some leaves.  It was time to head back to the dorm, and maybe to bed. 

“Come on man, it’s time to leave Disneyworld,” I told Ronny, and slowly gathered the remains of our little picnic. 

“BUT I don’t wanna go!  Disneyworld!”  he said, but he let me pull him off the log.  No one else ever understood exactly what he’d been seeing all night.  (Yes, I've dated some special ones, I know.) Greg and Angie pulled themselves up, and we got into a very extensive argument about how we were going to get back. 

Someone suggested we drive Ronny’s car, which was parked in a nearby lot, back to the dorm – the whole hundred yards -  because it seemed like just too much of a walk.  Then we argued about who would drive. 

“But I’m waaaaay too high!!!” we all cried, in successive turns.  Somehow we stumbled back and managed to get into the dorm.  Considering that the dorm was a girls-only dorm after certain hours, it is a fucking miracle that we weren’t detected sneaking the boys past the R.A. after hours, given how stupefied we were. 

I didn’t suspect that perhaps the pot was “more-than-pot,” until the next day.  I awoke at 5 p.m., in gloomy light, and I still felt stoned.  Well, that wasn’t normal.  I tried to get Ronny and Angie up, but they were still dead to the world, and would be for hours.  None of us got anything done that Saturday. 

Except Greg, that is.  He’d spent all of Friday night up and alert, making a Device – he was sure excited to show me when I woke up.  He’d spent the night carving (with my best fucking knife, no less) a hole in a square flip-top Altoid’s tin, so that the plastic Mardi Gras pipe would fit down in it. 

“Look, it’s a stash box, and a pipe.  It’s the biggest bowl ever!”  he exclaimed. 
I almost hated breaking it to him after all his hard work, but physics was against him – there was no way in hell that his sad little experiment would ever work. 

“Most of the ‘bowl’ won’t heat up, so it wouldn’t work hon…  Plus you’d melt the plastic, and that would be a mess,”  I concluded.  “Sorry.  It was a good idea, though!” 

Although he looked exhausted, Greg wasn’t willing to give up. 
“Do you want that glass bottle??” he said, pointing at one of my wine bottles. 

“You can have it,” I said.  Anything to get him to relax and sleep! 

“Because I think I can make a bong out of that!” Greg said.  “All I need is some plastic tubing…”

Friday, March 11, 2011

cooking, and other hazards

tonight, i was reasonably productive, and i cooked.  whoa!  after going and working out for almost 2 hours!!!!  i think i'm setting a personal record for being productive.

i am a general disaster in the kitchen; tonight, i destroyed a mixer, whilst making brownies.  no, that's not an exaggeration:  i'm pretty sure it's completely dead.  it smells of burnt plastic.

i would share the brownie recipe (actual homemade, does not come out of a cake mix box recipe), but i haven't perfected it yet, obviously, and it's still too crumbly.  delicious, but it won't come out as a whole brownie, and i DID freakin butter the pan.  it's not stuck, it's just a big crumble.  goes well with ice cream, according to The Matt.  me, i just want to pick up the damn thing and eat it, but these fuckers require plates.  and they're not fudgy enough yet, either:  i want my brownies to almost oooze chocolate.  i'll let you in on the secret, whenever the hell i find it.

so.  onward ho, to recipes that i DON'T screw up.  and trust me, if i can't fuck them up, you probably can't either.

Chicken Stuff

i call it "chicken stuff" because it's not quite anything.  it could be a soup sometimes, but sometimes it's not, depending on what ingredients i have on hand.  it could go over rice or involve noodles, but it doesn't have to.  generally it boils down to three or four ingredients.

what you need for the basic recipe:

family size can of Campbell's cream of chicken
family size can of Campbell's cream of mushroom
three or four chicken breasts ( i prefer 4)
(garlic, and other spices to taste can be added, but they aren't necessary)

yes, this will make a ton of chicken stuff.  trust me, you will want a large quantity of it once you taste it.

you can do this in a crock pot or on the stovetop.  on one hand, the crock pot makes it terrifically easy, but all this stuff fills it almost too full, so you can't add the full amount of water to the condensed soups.  still, it can be done.  although you probably don't want to add any more ingredients, at least in the crock pot.  you could always fish it out of there and finish it in a big soup pot on the stove, and add veggies then.

bah, anyway (can you tell i am not good at writing down recipes??):
dump out the canned soups, add recommended water (or less if necesary), add the chicken, add the garlic (either chopped cloves, or powdered, whatever) if you want it, and/or other spices.  you can do this with either fresh or frozen chicken, but the frozen will take longer, naturally.
cook it until it's almost falling apart.  then fish it all out on a plate, and shred it.  throw it back in the pot, and cook it until you can't stand it anymore, and you just have to eat it.
if you're doing all this in a crock pot, you can throw this stuff in and keep it on low all day, and you'll be cool.  if you're doing it on the stove, be sure to stir often to keep the bottom from scorching.  because scorch, it will:  this soup base is heavy.

now.  when you're done cooking the shredded chicken for a good long while (because the more you cook it the better it tastes), you can eat it just like that:  shredded tender chicken,  and the soup base.  it's delicious.  or you can put it over rice.  or cook noodles in it as well.

when i cooked Chicken Stuff today, after i shredded the chicken, i threw in potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and shredded cheese (sharp cheddar, in this case).  but trust me, you want to add the cheese either after you're done cooking, or just after you dish it.  cheese burns all too well.  or maybe it's me.  i wait on the cheesy goodness.

but you can throw anything you like into it.  peas, noodles, peppers, tofu instead of chicken and two cans of cream of shroom instead of one of each (if you're vegetarian), rice, onions (i personally LOATHE onions beyond belief, but to each their own), the works.  if you like it, and it typically goes in a soup, it'll work.  if you hate mushrooms, you can use two cans of cream of chicken.  that is actually how i started cooking the recipe, but i like cream of mushroom, so i improvised, and lo, it worked.

try it out.  you will not regret it.  is it healthy?  hell, no.  it's a good solid meal, and it is FULL OF AWESOME, but healthy it is not.  although you can get you some ingredients from whole foods (although they don't have cream of chicken, believe me, i looked), and make it slightly better for you than Campbell's.

another tweak??  try two (family size) cans of tomato soup, instead.  the acid in the tomatoes has the funny effect of discoloring the chicken brown, and you would swear it was beef in the soup if you didn't know better.  it's also excellent, but has more of a tendency to scorch on the bottom if you don't stir, even in the crock pot.  and i definitely recommend adding lots of veggies to this variant:  it's boring otherwise.  i guess this different version really is more like an actual soup.  huh.

recipe background:  i first had chicken cooked in cream of chicken soup, in an ex boyfriend's grandmother's house.  it was outfuckingstanding, and i always wished that i could recreate it.
i'm a bad cook now, but i was even worse in college, so i didn't attempt it.  then, about a year ago, i decided to just wing it, and figure it out.  and it was Very Good.  so i've been experimenting with it ever since.

other things i can't fuck up in the kitchen:

Portabella Mushrooms Full Of Win

you'll need:

large unsliced portabella mushrooms
soy sauce (or white wine, or your preferred sauce)
cheese (i recommend sharp cheddar, provologne, mozzarella, etc)
oil (peanut oil, or olive oil, if you're me)

firs things first:  oil your pan.
then, you break off the mushroom stems if they're still there, and lay the mushrooms gills up in the pan.  (i usually throw the sliced stems into the pan and fry them, then eat them while i wait, because i'm impatient like that.)
when the gills start to look watery, flip them over.
cook until the mushrooms start to flatten out.  then, flip them back over, gills side up.
at this point, you want to pour your soy sauce (or other sauces or wine) into the gills (not too much or it'll pour out and burn a bit on the pan - not that you can't eat them that way, but it'll stink).  then, you top with sliced cheese.  cook until the cheese melts, then voila!  you have dinner.
the best part?  they're mushrooms, and they're full of water, so it's almost impossible to burn one.  i've never done it, and i've burned almost everything i've ever cooked, at least once.

you can eat these suckers by themselves, or you can use them as a mushroomburger between bread.  if you want sides, i recommend asparagus or steamed green beans, or something.  although i'm sure they'd go well with steak, too.  but that would be quite filling.

and another bonus:  this recipe is vegetarian, and can easily be converted to be vegan.     : ]

if i don't eat meat i get sick and anemic (i found out the hard way through the accidental poor-college-student vegetarian diet), but i always like to be able to convert my recipes, if possible.  people eat differently.

recipe background:  i used to dislike mushrooms.  i wouldn't avoid them like the plague, but i thought they were kinda "meh."  then, an ex cooked this recipe for me (although i think he used worcestershire sauce).  yes, i get all my best food recipes from my exes.  usually they can cook better than i can.
i fell in love with all mushrooms after this, but especially portabellas.  and i never thought i would:  of all of them, i think they have the most earthy, fungus-y taste. 

so, what are your good, easy recipes?  because i sure need some.  i try to cook more, but... i suck.  hard.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

stating the obvious

in case y'all didn't notice, i managed to overcome my computer-stupidity for long enough to get some tabs up there.
see?  they're all green and shiny and shit.

do come visit!  
come see all the ways to get in contact with stalk me.

i have a new "about page," a new link to all my shops and ways to buy the nifty things i craft while watching tv in my spare time,
the Blogroll, and also:
i have a few other places where i pontificate the state of the universe and other interesting things.

one such place is my dancer blog; it's more just to write about things pertaining to the strip club world. 
go check it out if you like....

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

this is the last of the Mardi Gras shit, i swear.

by the by, i didn't get any good pictures of them this year (largely because i didn't see any), but for the record??
the Mardi Gras Indians, they look like this:
(pics snagged from the Google)

largest costumes ever.  i can't even imagine how they carry them.

have you ever seen so many feathers at one time, that weren't on a bird??

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

obviously, you can tell i am on vacation.

we went to Zulu today, at awful o'clock in the morning  (that would be 8:30, and no, i didn't sleep last night).

only in the South (Deep South, at that) can you get away with a bunch of rich old white guys running around in sparkly colored versions of suspiciously Klan-looking uniforms, and a bunch of black people (because Zulu has men and women in it, unlike a majority of the "traditional" krewes) running around in what looks like blackface.

we have a hard time convincing people that all this ISN'T a bit racist, sometimes.
it's not.  it's just... Mardi Gras.

but it's all in good fun.  Zulu is one of the few Krewes that doesn't mask.  well, i don't think technically they're a "krewe," i believe they bill themselves as a "social aid and pleasure club." but whatever.
hence the black paint.  and i really don't even begin to pretend like i know the significance of traditionally painting oneself black and white.


Zulu rolls!

when people talk about Mardi Gras Indians.... well, these aren't them.  i believe this was the King Zulu. 

and then, there was a naked priest.

and then, there was viagra!

there's all kinds of Grand Dudes and Dudettes in these parades.

this guy was billing himself as Pepe Le Pew.  and he squirted me with some sort of body mist.  yep.

"Try Our New Sit & Spin App!"

obviously, there's still some resentment towards BP down here.

we decorate everything here.

yes, indeed....

i'm quoting the raven, here:  "stop touchin' mah belly!"

we also caught the very beginning of Rex, before just deciding to say fuckit and go home.
we were all tired. 

we justified ourselves by chilling out for a while, just enjoying the nice weather before we went back to sit in our house like weirdos.

granted, i'm still a weirdo.  (i don't even know.)

when we did get back to my place, we were surrounded by a whole crowd of seemingly pointless traffic and tons of people just milling about...
that, and the ugliest cars on the planet.  

my reaction:


those are tired, tired baggy eyes of satisfaction, there.  even if Zulu didn't throw me a damn coconut. 

MORE dorkiness!

and that's when the bands are moving (and deafening)... and shoving people out of the way, if necessary.
they have people who do that - walk at the beginning of the band and shove people back to the curbs.
for the really large bands, they sometimes use cop cars.

and, for the comic book nerds, i present:  Captain America.

yes, the video is shaky - i was preventing myself from being whacked in the head by beads.
which, during mardi gras, happens frequently.

happy Mardi Gras...

happy Carnaval!!

Krewe of Proteus rolls out, and we get progressively drunker.  which might be why the shots get progressively fuzzier.

new orleans has a peculiar sense of humor, as demonstrated by my friend Sonny's shirt - but i like it.
although, with the twisted politics around here, this one's not too far off...



the lion compels you!!

after Proteus came Orpheus.

i'm pretty sure Orpheus was better.  well, they also had more floats.  so they had more chances to shine.

Krewe of Orpheus!

you're damn right he's the captain.
these guys help illuminate the path of the floats - or did traditionally, anyway.  the street lights do a pretty good job nowadays. 
but these guys are still tradition.  i have no idea what they're called but they're pretty badass.  they're either carrying oil, (as these guys above), or they're carrying propane.  obviously, the oil is a tad more dangerous.

this sucker actually had a loud-ass train whistle on it.  safe to say, it was really easy to spot coming.

i think he wants you to pour that drink in this mouth.  either that, or ring him with beads.

naturally, i had to put in an appearance.

i don't even know what this was, but it's awesome.

even the Navy has a float in the parade.  yes, really.
and that General up there had NO sense of humor.  i know this; he was stuck near us for a while.

dragons?  check.

old man under tree?  check...

aha, the LOOT!  double check.

those above doubloons up there are some of the hardest damn things to catch from a parade, because they roll everywhere.  obviously, i like them, and i work to catch them - i have enough damn beads.  i can throw a picture up of my box o'beads later.

in the meantime, i'll be drunk on the NOLA streets. 
happy fat tuesday, y'all!