Allergies

"Damn hands are way worse than jazz hands!"

It makes perfect sense. Just because I don't have time to connect the dots for you doesn't mean it doesn't. Besides, showing my work wouldn't be very Sciencey.

Update: Jsun wants credit. The quote was his. I told him I already explained that showing my work wasn't Sciency...But he didn't care. I don't think he likes Science. I bet he is one of those religious types. So even though Jsun is awesome, we find ourselves in this awkward situation. To be fair, I totally inspired the quote. I had damn hands. Mostly because they have the magic ability to have a violent allergic reaction to (latex) band-aids that lasts several weeks beyond the minor injury the band-aids were meant to cover. Damn hands.

Oh yeah. That is why the post is called "Allergies." Funny how that works.

Why is there milk in his coke bottle? Also, several key points of irrelevance.

We will set aside my six billion and four excuses for not posting, and get straight to the heart of the matter. Or at least the pancreas of the matter. I am pretty sure it is more important than the appendix of the matter...

So, clearly, having goals is useless in getting me to post regularly. I think I need to bring booze into the equation. That is how one gets shit DONE. Or, at least, how I do. (I hope.)

So I am going to try and post more by posting while drunk/drinking. On the one hand, this makes perfect sense: A) everything is fun with booze; B) I forget; C) this blog was meant to be about drunken exploits; D) it is not clear to me why Hollywood equates leprosy with oatmeal on your skin. Which one of these things does not belong? God, I miss Sesame Street sometimes. The show. Not my dog. My dog is named Sesame Street Rumble, and he is right here. But I miss the show. Life was simpler then. Which just goes to show you: Sometimes I am funny when drinking, and sometimes not.

ANYCOW, I am watching (sort of) Shaolin Soccer. (Which spell check would like to call Sharline Soccer...which is just weird. I have an aunt with that name, and I assure you, she does not play soccer. She just scowls. With jowls.) We WERE going to watch some dumb ass Nick Cage movie (I was given 4 choices and thought it sounded slightly better...it was in his brief gangster phase), but then we got into "The Face Off Conversation."

I contend that "The Face Off Conversation" is a universal phenomenon. Put simply: The movie sucked, but there were elements of awesome. (Aside from just the nostalgia of former John Woo glory, inevitably inspired by the double guns & doves.) Here is the question: WHO brought the awesome? Cage or Travolta? I think this is a no brainer. Plus, I think it reveals a lot about a person's character, such as: Are you smart? Or should you be relegated to giving me oral pleasures? I may be biased...

I think this post reveals just how mixed a bag drinking posts are. But, hell, it is closer to the goal. And it gives me a good excuse to drink again--TO TRY AGAIN! And cartoons tell me I should never give up my dreams. And I do everything cartoons tell me.

P.S. OH CRAP CRACKER SNACKERS! The title! In Shaolin Soccer, this dude is drinking a refreshing beverage...only it appears to be milk (which I hear is "a bad choice"), and it appears to be in a coke bottle. My whole thought process revolved around the theme of "what the monkey-trucking-fuck?" But, apparently, it did not sustain my attention past typing the title...

Strange...Or, at least, Interesting Science!

So most of the people who are big on mindfulness and living in the moment might not like it...but I think there are a fair number of times when truly inhabiting the moment--releasing what has been and what will be--will result in some drinking.

Clarification

So, apparently, my MILLION DOLLAR PLAN!!! requires some clarification:

Jsun: So your million dollar plan is to let people pee on you?

Me: NO! My plan is to have the plan, and then get people to pay me 10% of the money they get paid for being peed on, because it was my idea.

[pause]

Me: It's a pee-ramid scheme.

Damnit. I am funny. It is Science.


P.S. The plan (poorly articulated, though it was) was that, since everyone feels like they are being shit on anyway, being peed on is an improvement. Especially if they get paid for it. On the other side of the equation, people who feel like they are getting shit on will feel better if they get to be in the one-up position of peeing on someone else...in a retaliatory sort of way.

P.P.S. Plus, I get rich

MILLION DOLLAR IDEA!!!!!!!

Okay, so, in these political and economic times, EVERYONE feels like someone is crapping on them--AT LEAST one someone. SO. If you are well mentally organized, let people pee on you.
A) It is the most sanitary bodily fluid.
B) It's just a little pee, get over yourself.
C) It is practically community service! You are making people feel better!
D) Seriously, peeing on another person would make a lot of sick fucks feel better.
E) It isn't like these people are sick fucks, just normal people hit on hard times that want to sprinkle their winkle on you.
F) Really. What else are you doing with your time? Besides, you give/gave it away in the YMCA/gym/dorm showers.

P.S. Since it was my idea, I totally get 10%.

Context...RUINS things...

"If you're happy and you know it, then your pants will surely show it!"

Most awesome thing I have ever sung (top of my lungs, or otherwise).






P.S. It is possible I was singing to my dogs.






P.P.S. It is possible the line(s) before (and after) that was "If you're happy and you know it, pant real hard."






P.P.P.S. Context can suck it. Best story ever, "How I learned my friend JuicyFruit was a natural red head at Hempfest." The story sucks (I have much better stories about her), but the title is sublime.

Squash...touching me where my bathing suit covers...

So. I don't like squash. I just don't. Butternut has been so thoroughly abused, it cannot possibly have any dignity left. I hate pumpkin pie (all except one...don't get me started--people seem to think pumpkin pie is something they can argue you into liking...bizarre). It is POSSIBLE, just POSSIBLE, however, that I was fed some roasted acorn squash last night that was not an abomination. Or, rather, it was an abomination--but the kind I like in my tingly places. Behold:

Granted, it is "The Color Food Should Never Be" (remind me to tell you the story sometime), but it was actually pretty tasty. And a super-fun texture. Baby-food meets smoothie, but sexy-like.

It seems the flying spaghetti monster is the only one who will know the precise proportions of this drink, but here is the key info (by the by, Jsun swears this is precise):

"1 hefty tablespoon...as in a spoon you would use at the table...in the form of a soup spoon...heaped up" of Mashed, roasted acorn squash (seasoned with s&p, brown sugar, and butter)
2 "shots" courvoisier
"A hefty amount" of grated long pepper

We garnished it (this is a Jsun creation) with fresh grated "Long Pepper" (which was immediately, upon entering the house, rechristened "Dong Pepper" or "Schlong Pepper"--because we are mature and responsible adults, for fuck sake), which is entertaining the shit out of me, in and of itself. Aside from the fact that it is not often you encounter a new spice (touch it like you want to), this one is pretty fun. Like mild pepper, a cardamom-type hit, and a lovely floral tone pervading.

Beyond that, I got to try it as a result of a co-worker (let's call him T-Bone) introducing it to me. That he introduced me was not the wildly entertaining part, that he felt compelled to bring the bottle so I wouldn't think he was "trying to persuade co-workers to grate cat turds onto their food, in the ultimate practical joke" is the part I can't stop giggling about. He then allowed me to pluck a few berries from the bottle and place them in a baggie. (He also expressed concerns that just bringing a few of these berries in a baggie may cause him to look like some sort of pusher of illicit substances.)

I can't quite put my finger on it--maybe it is that he is a highly pleasant, middle-aged, white man of kind demeanor (for whom "T-Bone" is a delightfully ironic, or at least confusing, moniker)--but I am still fucking chuckling that it is in his mind (somewhere) to try and trick co-workers into shaving cat turds onto their dinner. Apparently I learned two things: Long pepper rocks, and T-Bone has a depth and nuance clearly worth exploring.

Science: Teaching us that even our most mild-mannered colleagues imagine tricking their enemies into shaving cat turds onto their food.