2.05.2010
touring the facility and picking up slack
Analogue Thursday was kickass. The house decided unanimously to do away with electronics one day a week. No cell phones, no computers, no TV, and the only music that gets played is on vinyl. We talked. We laughed. We played lots of games. We tossed the kitten back and forth in jai alai cestas.
Maybe we could use candles for our main source of light next time. The Mad Hatter can rub sticks together and build a fire while this bunny churns the butter; byproducts hunting/foraging for food and later on crafting things like shoes and clothing while we drum up beats on stretched cat skin.
(cough)
Let's not get carried away, coffee fueled mania, it's not sundown yet, people can still SEE you.
Vinyl has ruled the roost since the purchase of a turntable last weekend. I have always been in love with records. Music does not sound the same digitally - it looses it's thickness. Also, you cannot play a CD backwards and hear messages from Satan. Some of us need to communicate with the mothership more often than others. Don't hate because I hear the voices; if you are being ignored, thats really not my fucking problem.
My real problem: Departing New York, destination Florida, by the way of Japan. With a kangaroo.
Maybe we could use candles for our main source of light next time. The Mad Hatter can rub sticks together and build a fire while this bunny churns the butter; byproducts hunting/foraging for food and later on crafting things like shoes and clothing while we drum up beats on stretched cat skin.
(cough)
Let's not get carried away, coffee fueled mania, it's not sundown yet, people can still SEE you.
Vinyl has ruled the roost since the purchase of a turntable last weekend. I have always been in love with records. Music does not sound the same digitally - it looses it's thickness. Also, you cannot play a CD backwards and hear messages from Satan. Some of us need to communicate with the mothership more often than others. Don't hate because I hear the voices; if you are being ignored, thats really not my fucking problem.
My real problem: Departing New York, destination Florida, by the way of Japan. With a kangaroo.
2.04.2010
where's itty bitty Drew when you need her
Containing fire at the moment.
Do not torch the city on account of missteps, little bunny, sometimes it is just a matter of two left feet.
Quiet and mean; those are my people. - Nurse Jackie
I am incapable of emotion and the biggest waterworks factory in the world. Extremes, imagine that. The cold hearted snake girl is such an obvious front, I don't know why it wouldn't be recognized easily as a simple childish defense mechanism (absolutely stuck in third grade where kicking people is the solution to all questions); give that girl her teddy bear yous guys and back off. Yet, over and over again, I am misread, through words written, through conversation, through body language. Personally, I feel like an open book, so raw I have to retreat at points just so no one touches the bright red exposed meat (way too gross a visual in hindsight, sorry about that). Maybe, I am Mandarin and the words, actions, movements = total nonsense to most; not to mention the cultural differences when I insist we must all talk kindly to spiders smaller than quarters (Brazil is a scary place).
My inflated ego can only pontificate these things (FYI: if there is ever a word I hate, it is that one: Pontificate. Fucking hate it.).
People that get me:
Do not ask important mind bending questions before 10am. They don't even bother with the casual good morning. You wouldn't be getting me, you would only be getting my representative, who makes mild mistakes (my rep is roughly 98% perfect), may deceive you for no other reason than to get away from conversation (priority number one), and also, instinctually bites and hisses.
Understand there are days I do not answer the phone and will from time to time, even hide it physically.
Know I disappear and reappear for reasons not even I understand.
You are my Mandarin people and I love you.
People that do not get me:
Talk to me before coffee make-out time.
Bitch when I do not return phone calls/emails/text messages.
Are offended by my inability to show up.
You are my Icelandic people and although you are adorable and have wicked cool style, every time I order a cheeseburger in your country, I get eggplant polenta.
Aside from all that mess and inner psychological workings possibly present in the above puke-fest, I openly admit to disliking pretty much everyone, not for misunderstanding me, just because. That, is not a defense mechanism, that is a COPING mechanism. Logic is out. Frowned upon. Scolded. Idiots. I (we) are surrounded by fucking idiots and its hard, HARD, for me to deal with that fact some days, full on knowing, I might be one of those people I would hate, if there was a clone of me walking about the earth. Yea. I would hate me a lot, scheming for ways to throw me under a bus or subway car, literally, all day long. All one would need to do is wait and *push*. "Oops, my bad."
Just sayin'.
Actually, never mind. I take it all back, I don't know why I am writing any of it, furthermore, I have no fucking clue why you are reading it (car accident).
Just trying to sell some Tiger Brand Coffee here, even Tigers prefer it to real meat; on sale until November, $5.99 lb.
Do not torch the city on account of missteps, little bunny, sometimes it is just a matter of two left feet.
Quiet and mean; those are my people. - Nurse Jackie
I am incapable of emotion and the biggest waterworks factory in the world. Extremes, imagine that. The cold hearted snake girl is such an obvious front, I don't know why it wouldn't be recognized easily as a simple childish defense mechanism (absolutely stuck in third grade where kicking people is the solution to all questions); give that girl her teddy bear yous guys and back off. Yet, over and over again, I am misread, through words written, through conversation, through body language. Personally, I feel like an open book, so raw I have to retreat at points just so no one touches the bright red exposed meat (way too gross a visual in hindsight, sorry about that). Maybe, I am Mandarin and the words, actions, movements = total nonsense to most; not to mention the cultural differences when I insist we must all talk kindly to spiders smaller than quarters (Brazil is a scary place).
My inflated ego can only pontificate these things (FYI: if there is ever a word I hate, it is that one: Pontificate. Fucking hate it.).
People that get me:
Do not ask important mind bending questions before 10am. They don't even bother with the casual good morning. You wouldn't be getting me, you would only be getting my representative, who makes mild mistakes (my rep is roughly 98% perfect), may deceive you for no other reason than to get away from conversation (priority number one), and also, instinctually bites and hisses.
Understand there are days I do not answer the phone and will from time to time, even hide it physically.
Know I disappear and reappear for reasons not even I understand.
You are my Mandarin people and I love you.
People that do not get me:
Talk to me before coffee make-out time.
Bitch when I do not return phone calls/emails/text messages.
Are offended by my inability to show up.
You are my Icelandic people and although you are adorable and have wicked cool style, every time I order a cheeseburger in your country, I get eggplant polenta.
Aside from all that mess and inner psychological workings possibly present in the above puke-fest, I openly admit to disliking pretty much everyone, not for misunderstanding me, just because. That, is not a defense mechanism, that is a COPING mechanism. Logic is out. Frowned upon. Scolded. Idiots. I (we) are surrounded by fucking idiots and its hard, HARD, for me to deal with that fact some days, full on knowing, I might be one of those people I would hate, if there was a clone of me walking about the earth. Yea. I would hate me a lot, scheming for ways to throw me under a bus or subway car, literally, all day long. All one would need to do is wait and *push*. "Oops, my bad."
Just sayin'.
Actually, never mind. I take it all back, I don't know why I am writing any of it, furthermore, I have no fucking clue why you are reading it (car accident).
Just trying to sell some Tiger Brand Coffee here, even Tigers prefer it to real meat; on sale until November, $5.99 lb.
2.03.2010
clove of garlic, thyme, and salt
There was a time, long ago, on a planet far far away, where the flesh of animals did not inhabit my refrigerator. Bunnies, deer, and very tiny little caterpillars flocked to my kitchen dancing to the chirping sounds of love birds, serenading our meat free/pro animal lifestyle. We dined with racoons. I am godmother to a squirrel. I once helped gnaw a tree down to help a widowed beaver build a dam. I have delivered baby cats at 3am and helped their mother lick them clean of afterbirth.
After seven years, all that bullshit ended and it will never be returned to as long as there is someone willing to package my chicken, fish, cow, pig, and badger in easily identifiable portions of mandible yumminess. It is not that I formed a hatred for my friends of fur, I just got hungry again for a tuna fish sandwich. And every other kind of meat you can think of. I fucking LOVE steak. Bloody, bleeding raw on my plate almost, indeed if we were to pass by a farm I just might run like mad out of the car and bite a cow on the ass purely on instinct. Survival. If panda was the last thing on earth to eat, you bet your ass I would be firing up the grill. Get your mercury-infused dolphin sushi ready Japan, I am on - my - way.
BUT, if I were forced to hunt my own food, it would have to be cannibalism all the way. Humans would be the easiest meat to catch and I have little love loss for people in general. For me it serves dual purpose. In fact, if you want to ensure your personal survival, I suggest never inviting me over and not serving snacks.
Grilling is the only way I think you can eat human flesh for several reasons. First, I am not sure what it smells like cooking but if it is bad, then cooking it outdoors (even the first time) saves you from nausea and OCD twitching, episodic repeats. Secondly, a good char on the outside always helps to make the meat so fucking tasty and almost unrecognizable (let's face it, there WILL be a 'holy shit I am eating people' hump to get over and the more that foot doesn't look like a foot, well.... your stomach and head will thank you later as you pick your teeth clean with a metatarsal, enjoying a relaxing after dinner scotch and bourbon fireside). Lastly, there is BBQ sauce and marinade. Do you realize how many options you have for flavor - its like virtually ENDLESS.
I think I may need a muffin.
After seven years, all that bullshit ended and it will never be returned to as long as there is someone willing to package my chicken, fish, cow, pig, and badger in easily identifiable portions of mandible yumminess. It is not that I formed a hatred for my friends of fur, I just got hungry again for a tuna fish sandwich. And every other kind of meat you can think of. I fucking LOVE steak. Bloody, bleeding raw on my plate almost, indeed if we were to pass by a farm I just might run like mad out of the car and bite a cow on the ass purely on instinct. Survival. If panda was the last thing on earth to eat, you bet your ass I would be firing up the grill. Get your mercury-infused dolphin sushi ready Japan, I am on - my - way.
BUT, if I were forced to hunt my own food, it would have to be cannibalism all the way. Humans would be the easiest meat to catch and I have little love loss for people in general. For me it serves dual purpose. In fact, if you want to ensure your personal survival, I suggest never inviting me over and not serving snacks.
Grilling is the only way I think you can eat human flesh for several reasons. First, I am not sure what it smells like cooking but if it is bad, then cooking it outdoors (even the first time) saves you from nausea and OCD twitching, episodic repeats. Secondly, a good char on the outside always helps to make the meat so fucking tasty and almost unrecognizable (let's face it, there WILL be a 'holy shit I am eating people' hump to get over and the more that foot doesn't look like a foot, well.... your stomach and head will thank you later as you pick your teeth clean with a metatarsal, enjoying a relaxing after dinner scotch and bourbon fireside). Lastly, there is BBQ sauce and marinade. Do you realize how many options you have for flavor - its like virtually ENDLESS.
I think I may need a muffin.
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