Eat Stilton cheese.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Fashion and models. And herb-infused bread. Oh my.
First photo shoot was Friday. I'll link to the pictures when they're available; I think they'll be on the NH website. They're being used in their 2005 promotional posters--you know, the Face of the Millenium crap. Wonderful! My image will be used to swindle money from fashion industry hopefuls which may never get a day's worth of work for their trouble! Oh well. Anyway, the photo shoot was... it was actually a lot of fun. The first look was very flamboyant, sort of a Dolce Gabbana, colorful pink and purple, sex-on-the-floor editorial pose. I was being shot with this 19 year-old (I found out her age because Rodolfo Michel, the photographer, asked her after the shoot and proposed to take her out for sushi) Columbian (I think) girl. Anyway, yeah. The second look had me in this European-ly slim Gucci pinstripe suit with a polka dotted tie (and matching handkerchief! woo!), and her in some 2600 dollar dress from Neiman Marcus. The diamonds on the straps were startlingly real.
So, yeah. I make bread, too; I'll get a picture out here when it comes out of the oven.
Does anybody wanna go see the musical with me this week? I'm not really sure of the dates it's still going on but I think it's during the weekend.
So, yeah. I make bread, too; I'll get a picture out here when it comes out of the oven.
Does anybody wanna go see the musical with me this week? I'm not really sure of the dates it's still going on but I think it's during the weekend.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Carrot... Bunny?
Today I cooked "Carottes a la Cyrano", which is an entre of carrots dipped in honey, then roasted with bruyere cheese (though I added shallots and sun-dried tomatoes which made the dish more exotic and spicy). I got this recipe from my new cookbook, which Mr.Jones gave me. What an awesome guy; this cookbook is teh win.
He also lent me a really dry, witty British sitcom called Chef, which is really great.
He also lent me a really dry, witty British sitcom called Chef, which is really great.
"I'm not even a nice man. I'm just a shit who likes to cook."
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Skinny Puppy - Pro-Test
They ain't fuckin dead yet.
Yeah. I went to the Woodlands mall yesterday and bought a Skinny Puppy shirt at Freestyles. Awesome. I also bought a sweater at Express. I will wear them this week.
My cat is sitting in my lap. He is... orange.
Oddly, I don't feel like typing a whole lot of stuff right now.
Yeah. I went to the Woodlands mall yesterday and bought a Skinny Puppy shirt at Freestyles. Awesome. I also bought a sweater at Express. I will wear them this week.
My cat is sitting in my lap. He is... orange.
Oddly, I don't feel like typing a whole lot of stuff right now.
Friday, January 14, 2005
the CIA's pie contest
A sour, creamy liquid filled the dry cavity of my mouth at 5:45 on a Monday morning. I cringed, doubled over in horror as I miraculously managed to swallow the potion I had procured from my refrigerator. What did I just consume? A nightmare was being microwaved in my mind, one that depicted me, barefoot and in boxer shorts, inescapably re-enacting this awful spectacle many times throughout my seven-hour school day.
Oh. Buttermilk. We always have buttermilk in my house, and, every other day, I unfailingly mistake it for a carton of Florida Orange Juice, pouring myself a hearty glass of a substance that is intended to taste spoiled. A necessary ingredient to my specialty, the Buttermilk Apple Pie, it certainly keeps for many weeks before I turn it into the custard that makes up the pie's filling.
Buttermilk pie, though somewhat obscure, has been around for a while. A soft, yellow custard pie with the moist consistency of grits, it's a personal favorite of mine. Not like so many overwhelmingly sweet desserts that could power the island of Manhattan for a week with their sugar content alone, it begs for slow assimilation to truly savor its subtlety and delicacy. In my crusade to create the perfect-but original-apple pie, I sought to combine the two classics. My first ambitious try yielded a nine-inch pan only half full of a yellowish gelatin with apple slices floating around in it. “Needs cinnamon and nutmeg,” my dad sagely proclaimed. My family huddled around the table with spoons.
Ten or so attempts later, I've perfected what I can truly call a creation of my own design. Not a traditionally sweet and syrupy dessert, but not entirely exotic and unusual, it combines the creamy subtleties of the buttermilk custard with the classic nutmeg, cinnamon, and Granny Smith apples. The result is a unique fusion of tart, spice, and sweetness (not to mention a drastic improvement in my patience that resulted from my learning to roll pie crust).
Other examples of things I’ve set out to add to my repertoire include: rolling sushi, baking chocolate layer cake, blackening salmon fillets, grilling shrimp, pan-searing veal scaloppini, or making foccacia. My friends (seeking engineering, business or computer science degrees) used to say I was crazy when I said I like to cook; that I want to go to culinary school. Having since been served slices of my raspberry cheesecake, most now believe me when I say that I have a passion for food and for making people happy with it. I fell in love with the hands-on, methodical techniques used in the culinary arts, the steady rocking motion of my chef’s knife, and the smell of garlic and herbs on my hands that other students are baffled by in the classroom. Giving others a gift so real, so sensual as food prepared by my own hands is invaluable, and to do so professionally is my dream.
Buttermilk Apple Pie
Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
¼ cup flour
1 egg plus three egg yolks
1 ¾ cups buttermilk
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
5 Granny Smith apples
Crust:
2 cups flour
1/3 tsp salt
2/3 cup shortening
4 tbsp cold water
Prepare the pie crust in a nine-inch pan and save excess dough to make a lattice.
Combine the sugar and flour. Beat the egg and yolks and add to the sugar/flour mixture.
Stir in the buttermilk, peeled, sliced, and quartered apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and cook in a double boiler set over simmering water for 20 minutes, constantly stirring. Remove the pan from the heat, and stir in the butter and lemon juice. Turn the filling into the pie crust. Design a lattice on top of the filling and bake for 45-50 minutes (or until golden brown) at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Oh. Buttermilk. We always have buttermilk in my house, and, every other day, I unfailingly mistake it for a carton of Florida Orange Juice, pouring myself a hearty glass of a substance that is intended to taste spoiled. A necessary ingredient to my specialty, the Buttermilk Apple Pie, it certainly keeps for many weeks before I turn it into the custard that makes up the pie's filling.
Buttermilk pie, though somewhat obscure, has been around for a while. A soft, yellow custard pie with the moist consistency of grits, it's a personal favorite of mine. Not like so many overwhelmingly sweet desserts that could power the island of Manhattan for a week with their sugar content alone, it begs for slow assimilation to truly savor its subtlety and delicacy. In my crusade to create the perfect-but original-apple pie, I sought to combine the two classics. My first ambitious try yielded a nine-inch pan only half full of a yellowish gelatin with apple slices floating around in it. “Needs cinnamon and nutmeg,” my dad sagely proclaimed. My family huddled around the table with spoons.
Ten or so attempts later, I've perfected what I can truly call a creation of my own design. Not a traditionally sweet and syrupy dessert, but not entirely exotic and unusual, it combines the creamy subtleties of the buttermilk custard with the classic nutmeg, cinnamon, and Granny Smith apples. The result is a unique fusion of tart, spice, and sweetness (not to mention a drastic improvement in my patience that resulted from my learning to roll pie crust).
Other examples of things I’ve set out to add to my repertoire include: rolling sushi, baking chocolate layer cake, blackening salmon fillets, grilling shrimp, pan-searing veal scaloppini, or making foccacia. My friends (seeking engineering, business or computer science degrees) used to say I was crazy when I said I like to cook; that I want to go to culinary school. Having since been served slices of my raspberry cheesecake, most now believe me when I say that I have a passion for food and for making people happy with it. I fell in love with the hands-on, methodical techniques used in the culinary arts, the steady rocking motion of my chef’s knife, and the smell of garlic and herbs on my hands that other students are baffled by in the classroom. Giving others a gift so real, so sensual as food prepared by my own hands is invaluable, and to do so professionally is my dream.
Buttermilk Apple Pie
Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
¼ cup flour
1 egg plus three egg yolks
1 ¾ cups buttermilk
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
5 Granny Smith apples
Crust:
2 cups flour
1/3 tsp salt
2/3 cup shortening
4 tbsp cold water
Prepare the pie crust in a nine-inch pan and save excess dough to make a lattice.
Combine the sugar and flour. Beat the egg and yolks and add to the sugar/flour mixture.
Stir in the buttermilk, peeled, sliced, and quartered apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and cook in a double boiler set over simmering water for 20 minutes, constantly stirring. Remove the pan from the heat, and stir in the butter and lemon juice. Turn the filling into the pie crust. Design a lattice on top of the filling and bake for 45-50 minutes (or until golden brown) at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Current Mood = moderately emo (sad kitty face) Current Song = I Still Fucking Can't Sing But I Have Sold a Lot of Albums, Bitches - Bright Eyes
Could possibly be suffering breakdown of sorts. I'm beginning to snap at people and I couldn't make pie crust tonight. It's obviously because I need sleep, but I also probably need to get out of my house. I hate, hate it when my father, on beer number x > 6, will try to show me tips on making pie crust. I've never even seen him make a pie.
Have you ever been sitting in a class in the career center--you know, one of those artificially-lighted white concrete pillboxes (there isn't a goddamned window in that entire building)--and, amidst the snoring, Coach Jackson telling you that Thomas Jefferson--holy FUCKING SHIT, guys--wrote the declaration of independence, longed furiously to make somebody pay for wasting those precious hours of your life? I would truly like to save the required bullshit courses where I sit and drool on my desk with people reeking of tobacco for when I am older. Like, really old. So that way, I'll be able to say that I lived every hour of my teenage years like it meant the world to me. Damnit. Damnit! I spent an hour today eating pop-tarts. If we shortened the school day to three hours, it would be so much more time-effective! We could all add to the workforce and save money and become good people instead of getting another hundred on a test which was essentially a form I had to fill out. I'm serious. They're like surveys where you fill out your name, date, and how you found out about this product.
The girl had the jeans with the red tag on them again today. I guess those are her favorite.
I'm reading the Bible. I may be one to hate on the G-man, forizzle, yo, but I've never really joined the atheists that are so openly antagonistic when they know nothing about that which they shun. I read what I refute because to do otherwise is wildly hypocritical, and I'm likely guilty of that in some other fields, but, well, I'm a human fucking being and I like to talk smack. So sue me. Anyway, I think it's a real piece of work, but it should really go in the comedy section. I think the damn thing's hilarious. I'm not going to worship a dumbshit God. If I didn't want Adam and Eve to eat the fruit, I wouldn't have put the stupid fucking tree there in the first place. God screwed up bigtime on that one. And then, when he's all like, "Shit, they ate the fruit" and stuff, then he's like "Well get the fuck outta here" because if they'd eaten from the tree of life, evidently, they would've lived forever, or been gods themselves, or something really sort of interesting but too theologically hazy to really give a shit about. I mean, really, though. First three pages, and I'm already filled with doubts and questions. After Creation, they spend, like, two pages making up names like Ham and Shem to record the "lineage of Adam and Eve", and they expect you to believe that they all lived at least nine-hundred years.
Have you ever been sitting in a class in the career center--you know, one of those artificially-lighted white concrete pillboxes (there isn't a goddamned window in that entire building)--and, amidst the snoring, Coach Jackson telling you that Thomas Jefferson--holy FUCKING SHIT, guys--wrote the declaration of independence, longed furiously to make somebody pay for wasting those precious hours of your life? I would truly like to save the required bullshit courses where I sit and drool on my desk with people reeking of tobacco for when I am older. Like, really old. So that way, I'll be able to say that I lived every hour of my teenage years like it meant the world to me. Damnit. Damnit! I spent an hour today eating pop-tarts. If we shortened the school day to three hours, it would be so much more time-effective! We could all add to the workforce and save money and become good people instead of getting another hundred on a test which was essentially a form I had to fill out. I'm serious. They're like surveys where you fill out your name, date, and how you found out about this product.
The girl had the jeans with the red tag on them again today. I guess those are her favorite.
I'm reading the Bible. I may be one to hate on the G-man, forizzle, yo, but I've never really joined the atheists that are so openly antagonistic when they know nothing about that which they shun. I read what I refute because to do otherwise is wildly hypocritical, and I'm likely guilty of that in some other fields, but, well, I'm a human fucking being and I like to talk smack. So sue me. Anyway, I think it's a real piece of work, but it should really go in the comedy section. I think the damn thing's hilarious. I'm not going to worship a dumbshit God. If I didn't want Adam and Eve to eat the fruit, I wouldn't have put the stupid fucking tree there in the first place. God screwed up bigtime on that one. And then, when he's all like, "Shit, they ate the fruit" and stuff, then he's like "Well get the fuck outta here" because if they'd eaten from the tree of life, evidently, they would've lived forever, or been gods themselves, or something really sort of interesting but too theologically hazy to really give a shit about. I mean, really, though. First three pages, and I'm already filled with doubts and questions. After Creation, they spend, like, two pages making up names like Ham and Shem to record the "lineage of Adam and Eve", and they expect you to believe that they all lived at least nine-hundred years.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
I've an addiction to sex............................................. cake
I'm so tired. I can hardly move my freaking arms, pathetically, even though I could only hit 20 pounds less than what I usually can on my bench press tonight. It must be the lack of sleep. I realized today that if I go to bed "on time" (ten o'clock) and wake up "on time" (5:30) then I can still only get seven and a half hours of sleep maximum. My dad won't let me make the pumpkin spiced coffee anymore. He must not like fun in the morning. Me? I thrive on fun. I serenade through the kitchen juggling oatmeal and apples in order to try and raise my spirits on a daily basis.
I will take a trip back in time and tell you what happened to me in each class today.
Mr.Rice asked me in psychology today if my parents would let me have a party at my house with all the marijuana I wanted, truly testing my family to see if it was the "permissive" type. I replied that they probably wouldn't mind provided I cleaned up after myself, but really, that's not the truth. They'd never let me do it unless I invited them.
There's a girl in my government class sitting on the diagonal from me who has worn the same jeans for two days, which I was able to tell by the little red tag on the pocket, but today she wore different jeans that had a little useless pocket with a snap on them. I found the change fascinating. You would, too. Two people were snoring in that class this morning.
I fished around in my messenger bag today (which is filled with a wide assortment of junk ranging from Walgreens Chap-Aid that smells like cherry life-savers to a mysteriously cylindrical hairbrush to copies of obscure, old choral songs from seventh grade region choir, which I never even auditioned for, as Mrs.Travis didn't approve of how well I knew Cantate Fucking Domino) and found a "Special K Cereal Bar". It only contained 90 kiloCalories of heat energy and I was sad. Fate also took a cruel blow at me today when I was given a peanut butter sandwich after having eaten a banana.
In English, I read Brave New World. It's okay. I started it once but never finished it, and Shit, because I think some questions are due on it tomorrow. Meh.
In choir we've got a new song, which I don't really like already, because the entire range of the song is exercised in the first two measures and it has boring syncopation for which we were forced to count today. Retarded. I hate counting and I know very well that even in the elusive 6/4 time signature, two eighth notes still equal one quarter note. Holy Jesus.
I... I actually am pretty sure I'm the only bass 2 left in chamber choir.
After school today my mother drove me downtown to see my gay buddies at the Neal Hamil modeling agency. I truly had imagined them forgetting about me completely, and really, I was starting to kind of abandon this project of mine, but I got quite a bit of positive reinforcement today when they said my skin was looking a lot better since my cheap Vietnamese dermatologist helped me out so kindly. Also, I have a photo shoot scheduled for next Friday, not for making my comp cards or anything, but for the promotional poster they want me in. If you've ever been to the mall and seen the "be a model" bullshit set up with them taking pictures of random passers-by, they've usually got big posters set up advertising some kind of fake contest, and I'm going to be on it this year, evidently with some totally hot chick. Anyway, those guys are cool. They said they could send me to NYC in the summer. Sweet.
I think I've hurt my elbow. Ow. Now my left arm is really screwed up.
I will take a trip back in time and tell you what happened to me in each class today.
Mr.Rice asked me in psychology today if my parents would let me have a party at my house with all the marijuana I wanted, truly testing my family to see if it was the "permissive" type. I replied that they probably wouldn't mind provided I cleaned up after myself, but really, that's not the truth. They'd never let me do it unless I invited them.
There's a girl in my government class sitting on the diagonal from me who has worn the same jeans for two days, which I was able to tell by the little red tag on the pocket, but today she wore different jeans that had a little useless pocket with a snap on them. I found the change fascinating. You would, too. Two people were snoring in that class this morning.
I fished around in my messenger bag today (which is filled with a wide assortment of junk ranging from Walgreens Chap-Aid that smells like cherry life-savers to a mysteriously cylindrical hairbrush to copies of obscure, old choral songs from seventh grade region choir, which I never even auditioned for, as Mrs.Travis didn't approve of how well I knew Cantate Fucking Domino) and found a "Special K Cereal Bar". It only contained 90 kiloCalories of heat energy and I was sad. Fate also took a cruel blow at me today when I was given a peanut butter sandwich after having eaten a banana.
In English, I read Brave New World. It's okay. I started it once but never finished it, and Shit, because I think some questions are due on it tomorrow. Meh.
In choir we've got a new song, which I don't really like already, because the entire range of the song is exercised in the first two measures and it has boring syncopation for which we were forced to count today. Retarded. I hate counting and I know very well that even in the elusive 6/4 time signature, two eighth notes still equal one quarter note. Holy Jesus.
I... I actually am pretty sure I'm the only bass 2 left in chamber choir.
After school today my mother drove me downtown to see my gay buddies at the Neal Hamil modeling agency. I truly had imagined them forgetting about me completely, and really, I was starting to kind of abandon this project of mine, but I got quite a bit of positive reinforcement today when they said my skin was looking a lot better since my cheap Vietnamese dermatologist helped me out so kindly. Also, I have a photo shoot scheduled for next Friday, not for making my comp cards or anything, but for the promotional poster they want me in. If you've ever been to the mall and seen the "be a model" bullshit set up with them taking pictures of random passers-by, they've usually got big posters set up advertising some kind of fake contest, and I'm going to be on it this year, evidently with some totally hot chick. Anyway, those guys are cool. They said they could send me to NYC in the summer. Sweet.
I think I've hurt my elbow. Ow. Now my left arm is really screwed up.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Not trying to look gothic, just keeping a close watch on my rolled venison backstrap roast so I don't Goddamn drop it. We pounded out a backstrap into a sheet, then covered it with sauteed vegetables (shallots, mushrooms, green peppers) and rolled it up into this thing that looks like a spiral of freaking awesomeness when it comes out of the oven. I promise I will get photoshop running soon so that I can fix these pictures; my mother takes them all sideways for some reason.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
I'd like to take one of you home
Believe I may have mild tendonitis above my wrist in my left forearm. Ow. Have not been able to lift weights a whole lot. Many situps though and chest workouts as I must look like the might Carl.
There's so much on my mind, just sailing through my synapses. A hundred different people say things to me every day and I just reply with the wittiest thing I can think of, then imagine what I really should've said afterwards. A cute girl at Starbucks walks in and stares in my direction as if she recognizes me, freezing, and I just turn red and pretend to ignore her. Interaction with people I don't know well goes the way I want about half the time; I find that the most insignificant exchanges are often the most satisfying. The barista and I agreed that the white chocolate lemon cake really is sex, but the chocolate cake is too overwhelming to be enjoyed. We laughed and she left work, chatting on her cell phone. Encounters like that stick to me for a long time. I love observing people. I'd like to teach myself to smile back at the ones that smile at me, though. Even after all these years I guess I can appear a bit cold but while the "image" I convey suggests otherwise I just want to be friendly to everyone. I don't think I know what I am trying to say here, and that my rambles are a result of my brain in shambles from the coffee I reheated at, like, midnight. Actually, I will also admit wholeheartedly that I am constantly surrounded by beautiful women and it is driving me fucking crazy!
My dad's amazing. He can tell what's wrong with a small engine by the sound of it and has an extensive array of tools to fix pretty much anything. He wrenched off the carburator on a lawnmower today, looked at a fucked up rubber gasket, and found a tube of really acrid, petroleum-smelling red junk to apply to the problem. I don't know what it did, but now the thing works again.
By the end of this week I think it will really be winter. It's getting cold for good. I practice my unstoppable flying kicks on any object at school that gets in my way. It is amazing to see how distressed people will become after witnessing a complete stranger execute an act of merciless attack on an inanimate object such as a brick wall or a door handle. I have all A's and B's for my semester averages, by the way. Tomorrow? Tomorrow morning I'm drinking pumpkin spiced coffee. With nutmeg, Captain. I wore a peppermint outfit on Friday and Brandie Vela said she wanted to lick me. Allison also gave me the sexy look. Twice. I felt like I was in a freaking anime; one based off a hentai game. I made a slam dunk in chamber choir and I still have the Oreo wrapper in my pocket. My ideas are becoming more disjointed by the second and I have consumed green tea in the past, say, twelve minutes. I am sad that I can no longer wear my big bow on my trenchcoat, and I want to buy a complete men's kimono and just wear it to school one day. I think it would work because I was thinking of buying a yukata and being very festive but it's kind of more of a bathrobe thing and I'd probably be sent home. I bought SLaughterhouse Five today and a piece of sexcake. God damnit I love stuff. And people.
~there's a girl in the parking lot that nearly backs over my ass every day
There's so much on my mind, just sailing through my synapses. A hundred different people say things to me every day and I just reply with the wittiest thing I can think of, then imagine what I really should've said afterwards. A cute girl at Starbucks walks in and stares in my direction as if she recognizes me, freezing, and I just turn red and pretend to ignore her. Interaction with people I don't know well goes the way I want about half the time; I find that the most insignificant exchanges are often the most satisfying. The barista and I agreed that the white chocolate lemon cake really is sex, but the chocolate cake is too overwhelming to be enjoyed. We laughed and she left work, chatting on her cell phone. Encounters like that stick to me for a long time. I love observing people. I'd like to teach myself to smile back at the ones that smile at me, though. Even after all these years I guess I can appear a bit cold but while the "image" I convey suggests otherwise I just want to be friendly to everyone. I don't think I know what I am trying to say here, and that my rambles are a result of my brain in shambles from the coffee I reheated at, like, midnight. Actually, I will also admit wholeheartedly that I am constantly surrounded by beautiful women and it is driving me fucking crazy!
My dad's amazing. He can tell what's wrong with a small engine by the sound of it and has an extensive array of tools to fix pretty much anything. He wrenched off the carburator on a lawnmower today, looked at a fucked up rubber gasket, and found a tube of really acrid, petroleum-smelling red junk to apply to the problem. I don't know what it did, but now the thing works again.
By the end of this week I think it will really be winter. It's getting cold for good. I practice my unstoppable flying kicks on any object at school that gets in my way. It is amazing to see how distressed people will become after witnessing a complete stranger execute an act of merciless attack on an inanimate object such as a brick wall or a door handle. I have all A's and B's for my semester averages, by the way. Tomorrow? Tomorrow morning I'm drinking pumpkin spiced coffee. With nutmeg, Captain. I wore a peppermint outfit on Friday and Brandie Vela said she wanted to lick me. Allison also gave me the sexy look. Twice. I felt like I was in a freaking anime; one based off a hentai game. I made a slam dunk in chamber choir and I still have the Oreo wrapper in my pocket. My ideas are becoming more disjointed by the second and I have consumed green tea in the past, say, twelve minutes. I am sad that I can no longer wear my big bow on my trenchcoat, and I want to buy a complete men's kimono and just wear it to school one day. I think it would work because I was thinking of buying a yukata and being very festive but it's kind of more of a bathrobe thing and I'd probably be sent home. I bought SLaughterhouse Five today and a piece of sexcake. God damnit I love stuff. And people.
~there's a girl in the parking lot that nearly backs over my ass every day
Humanism is going to kick your ass.
I find theism distateful.
Hell doesn't scare me. Heaven doesn't entice me. You'll not lure me away from my natural temptation and it's over my dead body that I'll trade my Sunday mornings and free will for a silly little bribe of cake and cookies after I inevitably rot away. I don't pretend to know all there is to know about the universe. I also don't speak semi-intellectual, confused fourteen year-old jargon out of my ass while professing to be a young, philisophical expert on not only the detailed hypocrisy of the masses but the "scientifically enlightened" doctrines entailed by modern metaphysics and lofty (not to mention even more vague than Christian) mysticism. Not anymore. But I'm not submissive in my iron surity and I don't buy it. I don't need to. I'm fine on my own, without sharing my violently apocolyptic and ridiculously guilty self-hatred with anyone else, and the fact that there will never be the crushing doubt and fear that accompanies the loss of blind faith and the acquisition of pure reason is where I triumph.
Hell doesn't scare me. Heaven doesn't entice me. You'll not lure me away from my natural temptation and it's over my dead body that I'll trade my Sunday mornings and free will for a silly little bribe of cake and cookies after I inevitably rot away. I don't pretend to know all there is to know about the universe. I also don't speak semi-intellectual, confused fourteen year-old jargon out of my ass while professing to be a young, philisophical expert on not only the detailed hypocrisy of the masses but the "scientifically enlightened" doctrines entailed by modern metaphysics and lofty (not to mention even more vague than Christian) mysticism. Not anymore. But I'm not submissive in my iron surity and I don't buy it. I don't need to. I'm fine on my own, without sharing my violently apocolyptic and ridiculously guilty self-hatred with anyone else, and the fact that there will never be the crushing doubt and fear that accompanies the loss of blind faith and the acquisition of pure reason is where I triumph.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
This is actually not the sushi that I served to my neighbors; it is the crummier ones that I made. I was kind of off when I started doing my sushi and used too much rice in my rolls, resulting in either the breakage of my nori or just me being sub-par and not rolling tight enough. You see, one of the tricks of sushi is creating tension to bind your ingredients together without destroying the thing entirely.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Uh oh, it's latenight survey time! Be wary that I just consumed several considerable mugs of rum-spiked wassail! I also just ate pancakes.
1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before? Got my hair cut for more than eight dollars. Allright. My answers shouldn't be that lame.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I'm not sure that I made any. I've already made some for next year but I've gone and forgotten them.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
God, I hope not.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, my friends stay away from the military.
5. What countries did you visit?
Dallas. Fuck me.
6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
Independence.
7. What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I don't know. I had a lot of fun; I'll say region choir because I l
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
9. What was your biggest failure?
I fucking failed out of going to junior spring trip! Fuck! Also, failing to realize just now that my parents had the heater turned on to 74 degrees when they left. It does not need to be that warm in here.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I fell down the stairs once or twice.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
A pair of tennis shoes. I was originally passing out flyers using old NAM resale sneakers with holes in them, which kind of made my feet feel like knives and fire.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Sterling. He quit the Mormon Church.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Young voters. Those God damned sons of bitches.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Coffee, cheapass clothing, nice food
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Homecoming
16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Just one? I can either think of none or a thousand. Project Medusa vs. Exor - Moonshine. The club mix.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- happier or sadder? happier; I actually know for sure what I've got ahead of me.
- richer or poorer? much poorer.
- thinner or fatter? fatter! I'm not a freakin' stick anymore; I can bench 25+ pounds more than what I weigh.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Create new fighting techniques.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
I wish now that I'd stressed myself out even less about schoolwork. I realize how little my grades matter for the kind of schools I'm getting into.
20. How did you spend the holidays?
With friends. Not with relatives or people I didn't know or care to know, but with the people I really wanted to be with.
21. Did you fall in love in 2004?
I haven't fallen out yet.
22. How many one-night stands?
none too many
23. What was your favorite TV program?
...Enterprise?
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Well sure, almost every member of the president's cabinet has been replaced! There are so many new faces!
25. What was the best book you read?
On the Road.
26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Skinny Puppy and the SVF LPx2 filter
27. What did you want and get?
Recognition. And a big freakin' knife.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Either Blade 3 or Chronicles of Riddick.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
...I think I came home from school and sat around
30. What one thing would've made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
If I'd discovered Javajazz earlier.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Pachuca soccer jersey, Chor gothic pants, combat boots, and a Valentino blazer. Yeah, I pretty much don't give a shit as long as I look wildly different from anyone else.
32. What kept you sane?
Apple pie.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Sorry... John Kerry.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
The one where everybody's dying.
35. Who did you miss?
All my senior friends, and also, the Gillespies, who're back now.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
I didn't meet a whole lot of new people, but I'd say Nicole and the poetry club members, and I got to know Emily better.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
Don't worry about it.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"Tasty Pie."
1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before? Got my hair cut for more than eight dollars. Allright. My answers shouldn't be that lame.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I'm not sure that I made any. I've already made some for next year but I've gone and forgotten them.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
God, I hope not.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, my friends stay away from the military.
5. What countries did you visit?
Dallas. Fuck me.
6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
Independence.
7. What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I don't know. I had a lot of fun; I'll say region choir because I l
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
9. What was your biggest failure?
I fucking failed out of going to junior spring trip! Fuck! Also, failing to realize just now that my parents had the heater turned on to 74 degrees when they left. It does not need to be that warm in here.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I fell down the stairs once or twice.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
A pair of tennis shoes. I was originally passing out flyers using old NAM resale sneakers with holes in them, which kind of made my feet feel like knives and fire.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Sterling. He quit the Mormon Church.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Young voters. Those God damned sons of bitches.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Coffee, cheapass clothing, nice food
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Homecoming
16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Just one? I can either think of none or a thousand. Project Medusa vs. Exor - Moonshine. The club mix.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- happier or sadder? happier; I actually know for sure what I've got ahead of me.
- richer or poorer? much poorer.
- thinner or fatter? fatter! I'm not a freakin' stick anymore; I can bench 25+ pounds more than what I weigh.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Create new fighting techniques.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
I wish now that I'd stressed myself out even less about schoolwork. I realize how little my grades matter for the kind of schools I'm getting into.
20. How did you spend the holidays?
With friends. Not with relatives or people I didn't know or care to know, but with the people I really wanted to be with.
21. Did you fall in love in 2004?
I haven't fallen out yet.
22. How many one-night stands?
none too many
23. What was your favorite TV program?
...Enterprise?
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Well sure, almost every member of the president's cabinet has been replaced! There are so many new faces!
25. What was the best book you read?
On the Road.
26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Skinny Puppy and the SVF LPx2 filter
27. What did you want and get?
Recognition. And a big freakin' knife.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Either Blade 3 or Chronicles of Riddick.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
...I think I came home from school and sat around
30. What one thing would've made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
If I'd discovered Javajazz earlier.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Pachuca soccer jersey, Chor gothic pants, combat boots, and a Valentino blazer. Yeah, I pretty much don't give a shit as long as I look wildly different from anyone else.
32. What kept you sane?
Apple pie.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Sorry... John Kerry.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
The one where everybody's dying.
35. Who did you miss?
All my senior friends, and also, the Gillespies, who're back now.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
I didn't meet a whole lot of new people, but I'd say Nicole and the poetry club members, and I got to know Emily better.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
Don't worry about it.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"Tasty Pie."
Saturday, January 01, 2005
I wrote a new techno song. It's freakin badass, so IM me if you want it, or I'll post the link to the song when the Newgrounds admins put it on the NG audio portal.
Here's to listening to loud Arabian lounge music at 3 AM while drinking tea by candlelight on the couch. I will likely be doing the same thing tonight. If anyone cares to join me I will serve you leftover tortilla soup and coffee of unparalleled quality; coffee so good that you can drink it black and enjoy it.
~dundadedva? dundadedva.
Here's to listening to loud Arabian lounge music at 3 AM while drinking tea by candlelight on the couch. I will likely be doing the same thing tonight. If anyone cares to join me I will serve you leftover tortilla soup and coffee of unparalleled quality; coffee so good that you can drink it black and enjoy it.
~dundadedva? dundadedva.