Tag: food

and our hair cut the wrong way

Cornmeal-crusted baked chicken breasts with black pepper; beet and tomato salad with garlic mayonnaise; steamed French beans with butter.

My cat is barking at me. I keep saying to her: WRONG ANIMAL.

atrustheotaku linked to the strangest book I’ve seen in a while, a turn of the century guide to some kind of jacked-up Japanese pidgin. My favorite page of his scans so far is the Review from the Native Press.

It’s so quiet in here I can hear my eyes moving like in a Ren & Stimpy cartoon.

FOOD

Growers Ranch had avocados for 59 cents each, tiny baby roma tomatoes, tiny pears, and other delights. I am now full of 1) steak with peppercorn sauce 2) wild blend rice 3) salad of baby tomatoes and avocado with green onion and vinegar/olive oil dressing.

Mmm.

kow fil-A

I would like to thank both of kitchen_life for stuffing salome_st_john and myself with food tonight, including about 1/3 of a cow, mashpo tatoes, and completely perfect asparagus. What a totally wonderful evening! You’re great hosts.

Did your neighbor, like, die? I tripped on a newspaper on the stairs and they had about a month’s worth of various delivered stuff on their doorstep.

positively 21st st

I forgot that having alcohol near bed time always makes me wake up early. Even a little and GOOD MORNING! I’M ALL PERKY AT 0600!

For the 20th anniversary of the Challenger explosion I think maybe I’ll go get a balsa wood glider and attach a firecracker to it, and then throw it and yell OBVIOUSLY A MAJOR MALFUNCTION! just as it goes off.

Last night’s dinner came out really well. A black japonica/brown rice blend, steamed broccoli with ginger and black pepper, and hot wing “drummettes”. Tonight I think is soup night. I’ll go to Growers Ranch and see what kind of veg-eatables they have that look most soupworthy.

The Rich Girls Are Weeping has an mp3 in advance of Neko Case’s new CD!

Here’s a really long, weird list of new magazines last year courtesy Robotwisdom.com

hi.

Wild milk from the mighty sierras

The PETA people, with their usual combination of flair and insanity, are going after milk again, this time with the Milk Gone Wild site.

I immediately thought of another angle. I could sell “wild milk” to yuppie foodie types. I would certify that that no tame farm animal produced this milk. Instead, I and my friends would hike deep into the wilderness in search of lactating mammals which we would overpower and forcibly milk. We would then bring this precious ambrosia back to civilization and charge amounts per ounce in the single malt scotch/perfume range. Or higher, really. I doubt we could get more than a couple of gallons of milk in a very successful trip so we’d need to charge serious cash.

But think about it. Wild Milk!

If we got enough on a trip to make butter or cheese, we could make tiny amounts of that and sell it for even more, because we had declared this batch to be a rare and sought-after Wild Butter Catch.

I’d have to do some research and find out what the best animals would be on the scale of amount of milk produced versus size, danger, and rarity of the creatures where I was hunting. Ideally it would be a critter we could hold down and milk without tranquilizers because no one wants Immobilon in their milk.

We would also drink red flavored punch beverages

When I was in sixth grade, I’d go to my friend Jamie’s house after school sometimes. Jamie’s parents weren’t around after school. We would cook up a can of Chef Boy-ar-dee ravioli and go up in his room. The room had a cool loft in it, and we’d climb up there. We would play records and look at dirty magazines while eating our Chef Boy-Ar-Dee. I remember looking at all this weird crap in the dirty magazines like dildoes and ball-stretchers and various other things that you stick in people or have people whack you with. We didn’t understand any of it but pretended to each other that we did.

Jamie had a record player in his room, too, so we listened to stuff. Mostly we listened to whatever we weren’t supposed to, so dirty comedy was the #1 choice. A personal favorite of his was “The Crepitation Contest” which was all about farting. Also there was some Monty Python.

And then we’d listen to some ELO. Which is why Matthew Sweet’s version of “Do Ya” triggered this memory.

Weird thing is, I still like Chef Boy-Ar-Dee ravioli although I know it’s shit.