7.11.2011
something needs to roll.
Coworker: What do you need me to do?
Worker: feel my pain.
Worker: that's all i need you to do right now.
Worker: hear my tiny tears hit the floor.
Worker: believe that angels are committing suicide in honor of the extreme fuck-up-ed-ness of this entire job, sacrificing their good karma to come raining down upon me like little sparkles.
Worker: i want to believe we can work through this.
Worker: will you hold my hand?
Worker: *sniff*
Worker: tight?
Coworker: Aye.
Worker: you are a true friend.
Worker: now, BRING ME SOME FUCKING HEADS!
Random List Monday.
1. Never pass up the opportunity to drop kick someone from an elevated position. Waist high is good enough.
2. Always wear shoes you can fight in or defend yourself with when going out at night. Bitch slapping someone with a flip flop does very little to discourage anal rape.
3. Assume all people you know are potential serial killers. Act accordingly. Everyone has the potential to become a sociopath. You may realize too late. Avoid the axe.
4. Escalators are dangerous. Don't fucking play. Get on in an orderly manner, maintain position, step widely as you exit.
5. Mind the bus.
6. Shenanigans end up in eye loss 89% of the time. Your mom was right. Call her. Apologize.
7. Never, ever, whatever you do, in the heat of the moment decide it is a good idea to cut up your only ATM card into a thousand tiny pieces.
8. The whole "Eat More Fiber" "You Need More Fiber in Your Diet" "Fiber is Fucking Awesome" marketing ploys (the last being a very brief ad campaign in which the people responsible were immediately sacked), come off very lie-y, if you know what I mean.
9. You will never know what I mean, not really and this is probably best.
2. Always wear shoes you can fight in or defend yourself with when going out at night. Bitch slapping someone with a flip flop does very little to discourage anal rape.
3. Assume all people you know are potential serial killers. Act accordingly. Everyone has the potential to become a sociopath. You may realize too late. Avoid the axe.
4. Escalators are dangerous. Don't fucking play. Get on in an orderly manner, maintain position, step widely as you exit.
5. Mind the bus.
6. Shenanigans end up in eye loss 89% of the time. Your mom was right. Call her. Apologize.
7. Never, ever, whatever you do, in the heat of the moment decide it is a good idea to cut up your only ATM card into a thousand tiny pieces.
8. The whole "Eat More Fiber" "You Need More Fiber in Your Diet" "Fiber is Fucking Awesome" marketing ploys (the last being a very brief ad campaign in which the people responsible were immediately sacked), come off very lie-y, if you know what I mean.
9. You will never know what I mean, not really and this is probably best.
They're fucking clown shoes.
"Jay and Silent Bob are terrible, one-note jokes that only stoners laugh at. They're fucking clown shoes. If they were real, I'd beat the shit out of them for being so stupid. I can't believe Miramax would have anything to do with this shit. I, for one, will be boycotting this movie. Who's with me?"
- Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
- Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
Thank you, hubasaurus, for the awesome beer purchase.
7.10.2011
7.09.2011
Down Low Dining Event, Molecular Gastronomy FTW!
I attended a Molecular Gastronomy event last night, yes, IN Orlando (*gasp*) that was beyond fucking amazing. If you do not know what molecular gastronomy is, then read up foodies. In short it's a mixture of food and science. Liquid nitrogen, enzymes, dehydration, reconstitution, deconstruction. Seriously, if you threw a few math equations in there (math = measurements + time + heat + ratios) my vagina just might explode.
Oops. Neveryoumindthemess.
I first saw this type of cooking on Top Chef. Then SyFy ran 6 episodes of Marcel's Quantum Kitchen (taped them all), which was a little cooking, a little science lesson and a little reality melodrama; 2 outta 3 ain't bad, quote-th the Meat Loaf. That was it for me. I had to have it at all costs. I began thinking of where we would need to travel to get to this type of restaurant - not every chef has this knowledge or this creativity and sure as shit, I would have never guessed in a million years, Vapid Plastic Orlando would have been one of them.
I stand, absolutely corrected.
O-town 1, Jules 0 (j/k my score is like 607,362.4, fools).
At first we felt a bit out of a place. When I made the reservations, we had not imagined it would take place with less than 20 people, seated together at a long table, where we mixed and mingled for over an hour with strangers before dining. Lots of wine. There was lots of wine.
But it made the experience all the more intimate. Uncomfortable turned into ease and ease turned into laughter. I met some interesting people I can not wait to see at next months event, which will feature South American cuisine. I was amused by Michael, White Wolf Cafe's owner (where the event was held), who I did not nearly get enough time to chat with. And then there was/is Chef Jason. We were able to walk into his kitchen and listen to explanations of processes and view preparation of elements we were to consume later. He had just enough information to tantalize the less knowledgeable, and an overabundance of terminology for the more researched. How.fing.cool.
Not to mention, he is also, a really nice guy.
(Or a serial killer in Chef Disguise, come on, I can't go all in even with Four Aces)
I am by no means a culinary expert. But I do like to eat, I tend to eat out a lot, I like to try new restaurants (as much as possible, Hubby rates restaurants on Beer Tap diversity rather than food quality, so sometimes I am straight up munching some chicken fingers - gah) and I can tell you where to get a few of the best dishes in town; one of those being the Filet Minion at White Wolf Cafe where Jason is the Chef and how we heard about the Down Low Dining event (another great place would be St. Andrews for the chicken fingers). Or well, I can at least tell you my favorites. There really is no way for someone to explain these dishes. I mean, I could try but you wouldn't get it, because you cannot smell or feel textures through words and all senses are required. To do so would be tainting art. I have snagged a few photos, however, of the Amuse, the Appetizer, our Salad and Main Course. They are here, for your viewing pleasure courtesy of photographer Jessica Feran.
Oops. Neveryoumindthemess.
I first saw this type of cooking on Top Chef. Then SyFy ran 6 episodes of Marcel's Quantum Kitchen (taped them all), which was a little cooking, a little science lesson and a little reality melodrama; 2 outta 3 ain't bad, quote-th the Meat Loaf. That was it for me. I had to have it at all costs. I began thinking of where we would need to travel to get to this type of restaurant - not every chef has this knowledge or this creativity and sure as shit, I would have never guessed in a million years, Vapid Plastic Orlando would have been one of them.
I stand, absolutely corrected.
O-town 1, Jules 0 (j/k my score is like 607,362.4, fools).
At first we felt a bit out of a place. When I made the reservations, we had not imagined it would take place with less than 20 people, seated together at a long table, where we mixed and mingled for over an hour with strangers before dining. Lots of wine. There was lots of wine.
But it made the experience all the more intimate. Uncomfortable turned into ease and ease turned into laughter. I met some interesting people I can not wait to see at next months event, which will feature South American cuisine. I was amused by Michael, White Wolf Cafe's owner (where the event was held), who I did not nearly get enough time to chat with. And then there was/is Chef Jason. We were able to walk into his kitchen and listen to explanations of processes and view preparation of elements we were to consume later. He had just enough information to tantalize the less knowledgeable, and an overabundance of terminology for the more researched. How.fing.cool.
Not to mention, he is also, a really nice guy.
(Or a serial killer in Chef Disguise, come on, I can't go all in even with Four Aces)
I am by no means a culinary expert. But I do like to eat, I tend to eat out a lot, I like to try new restaurants (as much as possible, Hubby rates restaurants on Beer Tap diversity rather than food quality, so sometimes I am straight up munching some chicken fingers - gah) and I can tell you where to get a few of the best dishes in town; one of those being the Filet Minion at White Wolf Cafe where Jason is the Chef and how we heard about the Down Low Dining event (another great place would be St. Andrews for the chicken fingers). Or well, I can at least tell you my favorites. There really is no way for someone to explain these dishes. I mean, I could try but you wouldn't get it, because you cannot smell or feel textures through words and all senses are required. To do so would be tainting art. I have snagged a few photos, however, of the Amuse, the Appetizer, our Salad and Main Course. They are here, for your viewing pleasure courtesy of photographer Jessica Feran.
7.08.2011
I dig on the idea of giant rats, just not real ones.
Hello Blog. The crack, sometimes it just gets in the way of PRODUCTION. oh. no.
When I choose not to write it isn't because I have nothing to say; I have too much and the flood of thoughts makes my keyboard kryptonite. Mar.
Speaking of ark building, it is being managed by some interesting RX planks these days but we will get to that some other time. The verdict is still out on this one, Jury, my Jury(!).
We are buying a house, Hubbasaurus Rex and I. Holy crap. A house to hop around in, where if I break the floor, I CAN patch it up with duct tape and no one can say SHIT or hold onto my deposit for repairs. And other such things. Like bright orange paint and striped hallways (hoping that sentence was wearing a Cloak of Invisibility).
After having looked at several potentials, we've pursued "the one": donated DNA, bone marrow, blood, first-borns and so many printed copies of paperwork, that the hippie in me feels sad for being responsible for the equivalent of cutting down at least 10 trees. We are infiltrating the fold by moving further into the suburbs, where I will suspect many more of my neighbors committing foul, foul acts in extra wide garages. Trimmed hedges in the shapes of BMWs. A vampiric HOA with Security Guard syndrome. I am totally out of place but can play this role and even get used to it. Love it. Debating buying one of those two seater golf carts, to ride over to the Country Club on Saturdays, dressed in a tennis outfit (fuck the racquet though), martini in hand (extra olives). 10am. I am a late riser but a lifer. Hell. This MAY be fucking heaven. Scratch all of that. Give me my apron and Martha Stewart magazines, I GOT THIS.
Besides. I live with John Fucking Barrymore. Bathrobe wearing motherfucker.
In our colorful search we have come to understand better, the terminology associated with housing for sale.
For your future or current aide:
Pond view actually means: Ditch in the front or backyard.
Handyman special actually means: You will need to gut the place or burn it down and rebuild.
Unoccupied actually means: There will be dead roaches everywhere, be careful where you step.
Needs TLC actually means: Walk gently so your foot doesn't go through the floor.
Natural beauty actually means: Dirt in place of grass, hedges look like trees, vines are now making their way INTO the house.
Rustic beauty actually means: Old ass fixtures/appliances or miles from anything you need (hospital, store). Spiders. Rats.
Colorful neighborhood actually means: Rednecks, cars on blocks, houses painted weird colors, piles of junk everywhere.
Charming actually means: Appliances pre date 1970, wallpaper. Lots of it.
Modern actually means: Early 90s cookie cutter, lazy architect, non-licensed contractor, may not withstand 25mph winds.
One owner actually means: Someone just died in the house or has been sent to a retirement facility (see Unoccupied).
Great schools actually means: No one has been murdered in this neighborhood in the past year.
Quirky actually means: We took the garage and made it into 5 closet-sized bedrooms, in a maze pattern with a sink somewhere in the middle you will have to hook up to your water supply, if you want but you dont have to.
Unique actually means: See above.
In-law apartment actually means: There's a bed in the tool shed out back.
Spare bathroom actually means: A toilet and sink in the garage.
Urban living actually means: Ghetto (see Colorful neighborhood).
Zero lot line actually means: When you open up your bedroom window its going to hit the next house. If you spit out of your bathroom window, it will land in your neighbors kitchen. Hope you use public transportation or a bike because there is parking for only 1/4 a car.
We have none of these. We have big red front door, move-in ready with a pool and garden which we have come to understand is described simply as MONEY.
Now on to packing the old house up in boxes.
May stack and use them to create an indoor maze.
I dig on the idea of giant rats, just not real ones.
When I choose not to write it isn't because I have nothing to say; I have too much and the flood of thoughts makes my keyboard kryptonite. Mar.
Speaking of ark building, it is being managed by some interesting RX planks these days but we will get to that some other time. The verdict is still out on this one, Jury, my Jury(!).
We are buying a house, Hubbasaurus Rex and I. Holy crap. A house to hop around in, where if I break the floor, I CAN patch it up with duct tape and no one can say SHIT or hold onto my deposit for repairs. And other such things. Like bright orange paint and striped hallways (hoping that sentence was wearing a Cloak of Invisibility).
After having looked at several potentials, we've pursued "the one": donated DNA, bone marrow, blood, first-borns and so many printed copies of paperwork, that the hippie in me feels sad for being responsible for the equivalent of cutting down at least 10 trees. We are infiltrating the fold by moving further into the suburbs, where I will suspect many more of my neighbors committing foul, foul acts in extra wide garages. Trimmed hedges in the shapes of BMWs. A vampiric HOA with Security Guard syndrome. I am totally out of place but can play this role and even get used to it. Love it. Debating buying one of those two seater golf carts, to ride over to the Country Club on Saturdays, dressed in a tennis outfit (fuck the racquet though), martini in hand (extra olives). 10am. I am a late riser but a lifer. Hell. This MAY be fucking heaven. Scratch all of that. Give me my apron and Martha Stewart magazines, I GOT THIS.
Besides. I live with John Fucking Barrymore. Bathrobe wearing motherfucker.
In our colorful search we have come to understand better, the terminology associated with housing for sale.
For your future or current aide:
Pond view actually means: Ditch in the front or backyard.
Handyman special actually means: You will need to gut the place or burn it down and rebuild.
Unoccupied actually means: There will be dead roaches everywhere, be careful where you step.
Needs TLC actually means: Walk gently so your foot doesn't go through the floor.
Natural beauty actually means: Dirt in place of grass, hedges look like trees, vines are now making their way INTO the house.
Rustic beauty actually means: Old ass fixtures/appliances or miles from anything you need (hospital, store). Spiders. Rats.
Colorful neighborhood actually means: Rednecks, cars on blocks, houses painted weird colors, piles of junk everywhere.
Charming actually means: Appliances pre date 1970, wallpaper. Lots of it.
Modern actually means: Early 90s cookie cutter, lazy architect, non-licensed contractor, may not withstand 25mph winds.
One owner actually means: Someone just died in the house or has been sent to a retirement facility (see Unoccupied).
Great schools actually means: No one has been murdered in this neighborhood in the past year.
Quirky actually means: We took the garage and made it into 5 closet-sized bedrooms, in a maze pattern with a sink somewhere in the middle you will have to hook up to your water supply, if you want but you dont have to.
Unique actually means: See above.
In-law apartment actually means: There's a bed in the tool shed out back.
Spare bathroom actually means: A toilet and sink in the garage.
Urban living actually means: Ghetto (see Colorful neighborhood).
Zero lot line actually means: When you open up your bedroom window its going to hit the next house. If you spit out of your bathroom window, it will land in your neighbors kitchen. Hope you use public transportation or a bike because there is parking for only 1/4 a car.
We have none of these. We have big red front door, move-in ready with a pool and garden which we have come to understand is described simply as MONEY.
Now on to packing the old house up in boxes.
May stack and use them to create an indoor maze.
I dig on the idea of giant rats, just not real ones.
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