DCist traffic is blowing me up. I'm glad I've been providing a stuffed animal slideshow to all my new readers.
I'm still here in Tampa, trying to warm up, relax, and thimk. Let me share with you some things I've learned about the locals.
This man is not only allowed to exist, he is allowed to be all over town with his junk hanging out, often perilously close to you on the dance floor. He is neither beaten nor arrested. I see him every time I'm here, and I've taken a when-in-Rome attitude about it, but if he showed up in DC I'd punch him.
Cuban bread is a Tampa specialty. We bought some last night on our way to a great lasagna dinner at friends Lauren and Sharon's house. Cuban bread is baked with a palm frond in it, and in looking up Why, we learned that it also made with lard. Who knew.
Tomorrow begins a festival called Gasparilla. Jesse says it's like Mardi Gras with pirates, and the many boobs that appear when you image Google Gasparilla seems to confirm it.
There is a club in Ybor called The Castle that now holds a special place in my heart. For one thing, my little brother used to get in there, despite being 16 and The Castle having a reputation for being serious about carding. For another thing, cute girls hit on me there. For a third thing, it has the craziest ladies room I've ever been in. Last night in stall #3, a woman was screaming, "I love gay porn! Oh my God! I just want to have an orgasm!" Finally one of the bathroom attendants (of which there were three, one selling individual cigarettes, another fixing the makeup of a weeping drag queen) knocked on the door, and the girl yelled, "Fuck off! We're all in the same boat here!"
(Coach: this article from ernie, by kathleen turner, is hilare.)
From: Ernie
so I click on this link at huffingtonpost that sez, "kathleen turner describes her descent into alcoholism," and halfway thru I couldn't stop snorting cos it's the ramblingest ramblethon ever! she seems drunk as she's writing it, and she doesn't get to the drinking issue till, like, the last few paragraphs. Kathleen Turner reveals her descent into alcoholism.
From: Coach
yeah this part is a gem! like whoa, that voice is preggers? but it's so shapely!
To me, sexuality is a way of thinking; it's like turning on a tap. Hell, I can even be sexy as a cartoon rabbit - as I think I proved in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, when I voiced the character of Jessica Rabbit, even though I was nine months pregnant.
From: Ernie
haha! I like when she goes to the bar at lunch, orders three vodkas, and passes out in the bathroom.
From: Coach
"You know how it is when you know you are really sexy? On nights when I feel great about myself, if I walk into a room and a man doesn't look at me, he's either dead or gay."
From: Ernie
she should have a one-woman show. sassy dame, that kathleen turner.
From: Coach
seriously, this might be the best thing i ever read!
The film was being shot high in the mountains in Jalapa, Mexico. Up there, any entertainment and fun had to come from what we did together - which usually also involved the actor Danny DeVito.
From: Ernie
I know! it totally reads like this scatterbrained drunk woman. some drag queen could do a great show just memorizing the lines and reading 'em w/gusto.
From: Coach
To: me
i wish we could get bob to do this kathleen turner thing at marvel
Steve D. is funnier than Steve D. copycat
Chat with Zulkey
me: whats the story with the vid Claire: ok so last year steve
posted this Regrets: Boxes
then this goes up last week Printing's Alive [I go off to watch the videos...] me: i like the comments on steve's Claire: ha me: really
well printer guy isnt funny. so, steve wins Claire: exactly! you are smrt me: god, i really love the comments. "my dad sells boxes and is
so enthusiastic about it. that's why i love this video. now i see how
weird my dad is." Claire: hee hee
at east it didn't get racist
as all youtube comments tend to
By total accident the yoga studio I went to today is directly across
the street from the apartment where Heath Ledger died. I figured I'd
snap a low quality pic for HK.
I hope this deed will earn me the title of official HK NYC celeb
tragedy correspondent.
Yesterday I went running in the outdoors, which I can't seem to do at home, and today I'm going swimming in the outdoors, which I definitely can't do at home, and tomorrow I'm leading my sister and her coworkers in an abs class, because apparently I'm now a fitness instructor. This is not a bad life down here. All I have to do is cook. And I don't even have to cook, unless I want to eat. I think my sister and esg would just give up eating were they not reminded, by me, of the existence of food.
I'm in Florida doing Florida things. Like being warm. Walking to the coffee shop. Sitting by the pool. Sunday night my mom made pea soup and then blew my mind with some news. Details in person. On Monday, my sisters, esg and I spent all day at a spa being steamed, plunged, massaged, and salt-scrubbed, then we had sushi for dinner, dropped by the Big Church and spied on mom and stepdad's pre-marital class, and wrapped up the evening with a rousing The Sound of Music viewing/sing-a-long. Today I'm working from my sister's apartment on Davis Island. The door's open for the breeze and windchimes and Bob the cat. I feel good and I don't feel like updating, but I think Bob the man was getting tired of being up there on the masthead.
PSA
From: Miriam
Denizens of Jenny's World, take pity on me. I have two tickets
to see Ween tomorrow night at Constitution Hall, and my show partner
just bailed on me. It's hard to believe, isn't it? Is there anyone out
there who wants to bear the children of Dean and Gene even a fraction
as much as I do? If so, please consider accompanying me. My e-mail is
quackenboss@gmail.com.
Yours in Boognish, Miriam
Film Review
From: Brian
Subject: there will be blood
please enjoy my mother's review of the movie 'there will be blood':
"It was about a bad man, and he did bad things, and it turned
out bad."
love...
brian
Future story project: Send your short short stories, topic: the Future, to me.
Edina, spawn of Bob, daughter of Jen and Bunny, Saturday
morning at Bourbon.
Please find below my personal essay on how the Rambo franchise improved
my life, entitled "Killin's as easy as breathin'." I've attached
some photos for your use as well. The image that Jesse photographed for
me is attached for inclusion below the final paragraph because i included
a quote from the film's marketing director about the image. I've also
included the movie poster for Rambo 3, a picture of Rambo wivva cobra,
and the wrapper for some rambo bubblegum. I figured you might want to
break up the 800+ word text with some pitchers. Thanks for letting me
use your website to let the public know my feelings on this important
issue. As always, you are a saintly princess. Were I Rambo, I would certainly
come in and save you from the Burmese military. Indeed, those foreigners
heads would roll.
lovebob
Killin's as easy as breathin'
by Bob
Nothing excites me more than Rambo. Read into that what you want,
but I positively love Those Fucking Movies. I stole a worn novelization
of the second Rambo movie from a rummage sale in junior high and convinced
my sodden English teacher, Mrs. Ford, that I'd read it and written a book
report on it not once, not twice, but three separate times. In an only
slightly more self-aware fashion, I wrote about various facets of Reagan-era
masculinity in the Rambo movies in both undergrad and graduate school.
I used to own the DVDs of the first three, but something happened to them…
in a move, I think.
My favorite line came in Rambo III when Rambo was in Afghanistan, aiding
Islamic Militants (now our enemies) in their fight against the occupying
Russian military (now our allies). "I'm proud to be part of your
jihad," Rambo grunted to a nearby admiring brown man sporting a beard,
a turban, and an A-K 47.
After that touching moment, Rambo and his mentor from Vietnam, Colonel
Trautman, with whom Rambo shared a daddy/son relationship that gushed
far past homosocial into full-blown, gimme-more cockworship, used a couple
bigass guns to annihilate seven or eight elite Russian military brigades
armed with tanks, helicopters, the latest in Soviet firearms and field
communications, giant bazookas, flamethrowers, and an unsuccessful occupation
strategy that the U.S. government would deploy some 14 years later.
At the time of Rambo III, in 1988, my friend Andy and I were but wee
tots. We went to the mall together to see the movie and we just laughed
and laughed and laughed. In retrospect, that might have been the first
time I ever truly understood unintentional irony (the unintentional historical
ironies came later, of course). If so, that means I can say with all honesty
that the Rambo franchise began making me smarter, right then and there.
I'm fairly certain that's the first time anyone's ever written that sentence.
But, alas, that was the last time we saw John Rambo. Since then, Rambo's
been living the simple, peaceful life of an ascetic on the border between
Thailand and Burma. He's spent his time fighting cobras for money, using
a mighty steel hammer to fashion pieces of molten iron into primitive
but incredibly pragmatic tools, and killing fishes for food with a compound
bow and arrows.
But that all changes when a group of Christian missionaries are captured
by the Burmese Army and subjected to unspeakable acts of humiliation and
torture. Once again, Rambo will not draw first blood, but he'll bring
those POWs… er, Christian missionaries, back alive and, in doing
so, win the 60-year-old civil war between the Burmese military junta and
the regional ethnic minority groups organized into what is most recently
known as the Karen National Liberation Army.
There is no better measure for how the Collective American Penis
is doing than Rambo. None. I honestly can't believe it's taken Rambo this
long to come round and win some more unwinnable wars for us. Jungle locale
notwithstanding, the appearance of a Rambo movie is like an admission
of defeat from the neo-con Republican establishment currently seeing their
Imperial dreams evaporate in Iraq. "If we can't do it, we can call
in John Rambo," they must all be saying.
And that is the reason for this long story. On Friday, January 25, 2008,
Rambo is finally back in his aptly titled return to the big screen, Rambo.
We will be congregating on that evening to celebrate Rambo's reluctant
but ultimately triumphant and, as always, incredibly VIOLENT return to
the silver screen (theater location and showtime arriving soon via email).
Dear
friends and loved ones in far-flung areas of the world — both the important
places and the backwaters — you, too, may join us. Iraq may be lost, but
we can all help Rambo achieve an important psychological victory in the
battle for the highest weekend box-office totals.
At right you'll see the marketing poster for the film as photographed on
9th Street NW in Washington, DC by the incomparable Jesse Miller. The
concept for the striking artwork was described by Lion's Gate Pictures
co-president for theatrical marketing, Tim Palen, as "Che Guevara
crossed with Jesus Christ by way of Andy Warhol."
"In
a way, he's all of those," Palen went on to say. And if that
statement and this essay don't convince you that narcissistic fags love
Rambo just as much as the jingoistic psychopaths who would chain those
fags to their bumper and do donuts in the Walmart parking lot until they
were some dead fags, then I don't know what will.
Wondered Edward before he trundled out into the cold this morning, with his fancy new personal tea
press in hand. Well, the answer isn't CLONING
MATURE HUMAN EMBRYOS from SKIN CELLS, because they did that yesterday.
Holy shit! I understand the potential to grow new tissue that your body won't reject is pretty fucking amazing. And, cloned babies are most def coming down the pike. Says Stemagen CEO Sam Wood: "It's unethical and it's illegal, and we hope no one else does it either." Riiiight.
So the timing is perfect for Julie Comnick's show to be written up in the Post, with an online slideshow and a page in the Weekend magazine, including a little pullout interview: Man vs. Beast: An Intimate Look, by Michael O'Sullivan. "Issues of eugenics and selective breeding linger just below the surface, reinforced by such passages as the one describing how to increase the chance of a given sex in pregnancy.
It's all about power, then? Power over the beasts. Power over our own bodies. Even as Comnick seems to drive home this argument, she consciously casts doubt on that conclusion, suggesting instead that what's really at issue is not strength, but human weakness.
How have we lost touch with our own animal natures, and what else do we risk losing -- including our own futures -- because of it?" See also: The Story Behind the Work.
singthat: :)
i saw your a'bortion shirt
as much as it is a challenge i really can't get it me: classy huh?
too bad singthat: i know me: i'd love to sell just one... singthat: maybe after i have the baby me: haha
that's kind of even better singthat: just superstitious i guess me: ah, interesting point
cant be too careful!
I'm busy with work and Julie's site, so, Sherman's got the t-shirt making bug...her Well-Fed Terrorist series looks pretty fashion forward* and Deffo's made a Pencil Attack shirt ("Ever been chased by a pencil? This shirt is for you.") and Debs is now trolling for ideas ....Underblog's posted for you if you are an Italophile or, uh, Ducatista, as he says, and Ranger Ted sent me this sad song: Nails in My Coffin, by Jerry Irby With His Texas Ranchers. Later.
* I watch three television shows, The Wire, which is good, The L Word**, which is bad, and Project Runway...because ritual is an important part of life. Last night Heidi Klum scolded a designer by saying something like this (assume German accent), "Vee vere lookink for somefing Oven Guard and fashion foward. Instead, you looked backward. And not in a good way."
** Neil: "L Word Season 5 premiere. The worst episode ever. everyone is a caricature. maybe ep. 2 will be better. less cringeworthy. I doubt it."
Dear Neil: Episode 2 was even worse. The creators have scrapped credibility and mmmm...storyline, character development, chemistry and humor, and appear to be aiming for mass humiliation of our people. Huzzah!
Mirah and Spectratone International show last night at Iota.
I love Mirah and bugs more than do most people, so I enjoyed last night's
show at Iota more than would most people. Still, I'd rather hear Mirah's songs
about breakups, death, sex and god. You can only wring so much emotional
truth out of the life of a fly, no matter how neat the stop-motion insect
films playing in the background were. And they were pretty neat.
It could be the weirdest and most embarrassing prediction in the history
of cosmology, if not science.
If true, it would mean that you yourself reading this article are more
likely to be some momentary fluctuation in a field of matter and energy
out in space than a person with a real past born through billions of
years of evolution in an orderly star-spangled cosmos. Your memories
and the world you think you see around you are illusions.
also interesting is that a couple wire writers are actually grads of
UMD's journo program. and i didn't know that george pelecanos was a
terp.
From: Bova
Subject: Cluster huck
OMMFG! NO!
We've all seen it. But have we lived it? No.
Huckabee Xmas card
New Must-Have Merch!
Make it a
two-way conversation, in this exciting
new
shirt by Coach. I even bothered to use
the correct
font. Yeah, BUY IT! For lesbianest results, cut off sleeves.
Rebongaz and Matt are responsible for this poignant commentary on the joys of abortion,
and I upped the ante by making it a maternity shirt. In Comic Sans. You're welcome. BUY IT! I dare you.
Shoot, don't even come here, just go straight to Achewood. And by the way, Mirah is at Iota, tomorrow (Tuesday) night at 8:30.
This is where some words and a slideshow about bowling and motorcycles are supposed to be, but apparently I'm having a motivation problem. Today at noon the spaceship Messenger will fly by Mercury. Mercury's sunny side gets to about 1,100 degrees, and its dark side down to 300 below zero. On Mercury a day takes 6 months, and a year takes 88 days. So that's something to think about while I try to get a proper post together, and here's something else, from Mashby.
By the way, Goldie lives, and is promised back to me "before March."
Hey – I see you're making shirts and stuff for your website.
Well, on the Sarah Silverman Program this season she was wearing a T-shirt
that said "I'd Rather be Schleppy than Preppy." I searched the interweb
for it and could not find it. If you made it, I would totally buy it ...
I bet Deb and other Jews would, too.
"It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves."
Yeah, I know the site has sucked lately. Until I get my act together,
please enjoy this tiny anecdote by esg.
Chat with esg
esg: so i went to subway in deep NE
and there was this group of really busted looking drag queens ordering.
the subway guy was all, "what would you like...ma'am?" and they
kept saying "i want a 8 incher" esg: he was like, we have 6 or 12. but they insisted, "we
want 8 inches!" me: were they kidding with him? esg: yeah
and he had no idea what they were talking about. i started giggling.
then one Lady was like, "toast my buns!" and everyone laughed. me: hee
By the way, I'll be at the DC Convention Center for the International
Motorcycle Show sometime this weekend, sitting beside my motorcycle which
my mechanic has been holding hostage for 6 months and counting. Stop by
Ye Olde Jap Bike table if you'd like to say hello.
Congratulations to our own DDDan, whose girl HRC won New Hampshire last
night. Now she's off to LA to, uh, coordinate the surrogates in California,
or something like that. If you or someone you know in LA would like to
host her for a month, please get in touch.
This is the first HK content
ever provided by my grandma on purpose.
Yesterday I received notification that some guy named Zafar had commented
on one of my Picasa album photos. I
appreciate his economy of words.
News I've gathered without even trying: Hillary can't do anything
right. So her voice breaks while she's answering a question about how
losing feels, and the headlines are all, "A crack in Hillary's steely
facade! But at what price?" I mean, give the woman a break, for fucksake.
Damned if she does and all that. In sports, my Buckeyes lost the title
game for the second year in a row, but you know, at least they were in
it. You can't win if you don't play. On the other hand, you can't lose
if you don't play. When faced with this conundrum, it's best to remember
the wise words of The Gambler, who said (feel free to sing along): "Every
gambler knows/ the secret to surviving/ is knowing what to throw away,
and knowing what to keep. Cuz every hand's a winner, and every hand's
a loser, and the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."
So there you go. And in weather news, it is clearly End Times. Go make
the best of it.
Tune in later for naked pictures and gossip about your friends.
Jack, Dan and Bob at the opening, totally talking about
Star Trek.
DeffoTotes' new store, DeffoTotesStoreTimeUSA,
inspired me to make a store, too. At his store you can buy his original
"id rather b txting" shirt. At my store you can but will not buy this
stuff. Check back often as I create more unsellable items.
From: Brian
Subject: wildlife
your list is incomplete.
i'm certain that there are snakes in rock creek park,
and there's got to be at least a fox family or two.
plus there have been coyote reports over the years, although none were
verified as far as i know
also, bugs aren't "wildlife", they're "vermin"
what time are you going to the opening tonight?
and is there a post-opening plan?
love...
brian
I basically forgot all reptiles and amphibians, and I remembered the
foxes, but not until I was asleep. The opening, by the way, was great.
Go down to Flashpoint this month and see it for yourself.
Last night I was
hanging out with Julie and Chris and a friend who was present when Michael
Vick's polygraph test was administered (I think I'm allowed to say that
much), so naturally the conversation was about animals and humans, our
interactions, selective breeding, and so forth, and now I can't sleep,
so here is the short list of animals we have in our lives, here in DC,
that were not created by humans to ride, eat, fight, work, look at or
fit nicely into handbags. In short, wild animals. The list is: birds,
bugs, squirrels, rats, mice, racoons, possums, deer, and feral cats. I
suppose there are fish in those rivers, and some rodents I'm missing,
but that's about it.
To illustrate area wildlife, here is Peanut Butter.
Baby it's cold outside.
Let's see, what the hell to report. First, we had a very fine New Year's
gathering here at 1320. Another dance party like that and I'm pretty sure
the living room's going to end up in the basement. There were controlled
explosions and clothes swapping and first-degree burns and Sangria, which
means we've really grown up from the times of uncontrolled explosions,
wife swapping, third-degree burns and flaming Everclear. Time flies, don't
it? I think everyone enjoyed their cute selves, even the person who puked
in our bathtub.
At right you can see Mr. Meredith Bragg and his wife Cynthia Calgaro
leading the festivities. Before retiring, Meredith fetched from his car
a copy of his brand new record, Silver Sonya, which we will continue
to hawk here in this space. The packaging is first rate! The songs aren't
bad, either. Buy it!
Julie Comnick and husband Chris Jones are my guests here at the house
this week, and are presently down in Chinatown hanging her show, According
to Their Kind. At right, Julie discovers that DHL didn't completely
destroy the work en route. The opening reception is this Friday from 6–8pm
at Flashpoint, 916 G Street NW. Be
there!
Yesterday, JC, CJ, my sister and I went down to Ben's
Chili Bowl to swap some party toxins for some fry fat, and we totally
got to meet Ben and Virginia Ali themselves. Ben gave us pocket calendars.
That's right. You are jealous.
Later, we went to the new and improved National Portrait Gallery, which
has really great stuff. Like, this Nancy Reagan by Tina
Mion, who grew up in DC but now runs a sweet hotel in Winslow, AZ,
where Chris and Julie once stayed. The Portrait Gallery also has this
magical atrium that you've got to see. Courtyard? Whatever. It's
nice.
This paragraph is filler to make the pictures fit. To reiterate, the
party evolves, our friends make great stuff, Ben is a real person who
let me take his picture, and you should come to Julie's opening this Friday.
Here is her newest painting, which will not be in the show, but it's amazing
and I love it so am showing it off here. I think the title is Fortune,
and I'm certain the dimensions are Huge x Huge. Those ladies are Japanese
pearl divers.
Last night I had a beautiful dream. We were flying together high above
a vast sea. We flew over cliffs that rose for miles, and massive forests
that stretched endlessly in green, and they were filled with Abominable
Snowmen and Women. David Attenborough narrated.
The temptation to try and summarize 2007 will be mostly resisted. A thing
happens; you learn something; people you love die or merely disappoint
you, or they live and are shockingly awesome, and then more things happen
and you learn some more. For 2008, I resolve to get up every morning.
Reorganize the systems. Add energy. Fight entropy. Clean my room. And
speaking of dynamic energy transformation, my house is having a party
tonight, and we residents of the house are going to help throw it. Come
on by if you love one or more of us, or if you have nowhere else to go,
or especially if you'd care to dance.
Public Service Announcement: Pigs in Space Heaters
Kudos to Marla, who actually knows what I do for a living.
From: Marlz
Subject: energy star?
jm,
do you still work with energystar.gov?
i am looking to buy a good space heater, but hopefully an energystar
one. how can i view ones online that are energystar certified?
Yesterday began at grandma's in Landrum, SC, with the TV going about Bhutto's assasination. Lots of coverage in the Post: The Traditional Rebel:
Benazir Bhutto Was a Woman Of Contradictions and Convictions. Then Jess and I drove up 85 to 95 to home, the same route Sean and I drove last year to make it back in time for New Year's Eve. This morning Jess was on the phone brokering deals with assorted Florida catsitters in varying degrees of freaking out. Today I think we'll do a museum, haircut, and gym, cuz you can't stop trying, right?
We teach our children one thing only, as we were taught: to wake up. We teach our children to look alive there, to join by words and activities the life of human culture on the planet's crust. As adults we are almost all adept at waking up. We have so mastered the transition we have forgotten we ever learned it. Yet it is a transition we make a hundred times a day, as, like so many will-less dolphins, we plunge and surface, lapse and emerge. We live half our waking lives and all of our sleeping lives in some private, useless, and insensible waters we never mention or recall. Useless, I say. Valueless, I might add — until someone hauls their wealth up to the surface and into the wide-awake city, in a form people can use.
— Annie Dillard, from 'Total Eclipse' in Teaching a Stone to Talk
And sometimes you've got nothing that's useful to anyone, and it seems like a good time to plunge and lapse. But first, some instructional music and photography.
First, meet the new kitten, Florence Marbles Coconut.
But you can call her Flo.
Next, have Dave make gingerbread cookies.
His dad was a baker for a while.
Coach and Madge share gynecologist stories.
Open throttle icing by Neesh.
It's actually pretty serious business.
heart
Fire break.
Coach's blue balls.
Grown-ups at work.
Panties.
Shelbot wasn't "feeling pretty," but too bad.
A Cookie for Miriam.
I was there, too.
The end.
Mail bag
From: Brian
Subject: Fwd: christmas dad
please enjoy the following email exchange
Date: Tue, 18 Dec 2007
From: brian
To: scott
Subject: christmas dad
what are you getting dad for christmas?
i was thinking about satellite radio
but i'm not sure he'd like that
love...
brian
--
It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the
waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always
right at the top.
From: Scott
Date: Dec 20, 2007
Subject: RE: christmas dad
To: Brian
i start to think tomorrow.
i am officially on vacation
whats that silly quote at the bottom
of your email. i just got off a boat and
the ocean was rough and cold and beautiful
i am getting dad a bag of reefer so he
can chill the fuck out sometimes
sm
Yesterday I was working when I heard police sirens and then a big car wreck
just over on 14th Street. So I went out to the back porch and soon a
guy came running down the alley. He stopped right behind our house, and then he cut through the back neighbor's
yard, stood out there for a minute, then came running back because a cop was chasing him. Then they both ran down to the bottom of the alley.
So I went outside and walked around
to see if I could see anything else, but I couldn't, and when I came back
in our cable was out. I think stolen-car dude or whatever he was up to hit one of the poles, because the
cable guys were out there working the rest of
the day and night. Anyway, I can't work without the internet, so I went
to the zoo.
An architecture firm donated their unneeded Gingerbread Kennedy
Center to the domestic violence shelter, because....I don't know why. From esg: "not pictured, blue icing water near the
underpass."
It's winter and people have been busy in the kitchen.
The following recipes are for entertainment purposes only.
1. POACHED EGG EXPERIMENT.
Behold. Esg's first poached egg.
Monday night we realized none of us were very clear on the difference between a soft-boiled egg and a poached egg. So we asked Wikipedia, and turns out, a poached egg is an egg that has been cooked by poaching. So last night Shauna poached eggs.
Boil some water with some vinegar in it
Crack an egg in there
Remove after exactly 3 minutes, 22 seconds
You are done.
Esg also made béchamel sauce, also known as the white sauce her dad puts on everything, and not the yellow stuff, which is hollandaise.
2. ASSORTED GREENS EXPERIMENT
I did almost everything wrong with these greens, starting with the fact that I wasn't sure what I'd bought. I think they were mustard and kale. Ingredients are: greens, onions, garlic, pine nuts, tomato.
Edible, barely.
Rinse the hell out of the greens or they will be full of dirt, like
mine were.
Blanch
the greens. Because Cook's Illustrated told me to.
Try to get some of the water out, or you will have some soggy mess.
Then, chop 'em up.
Saute your onion and garlic and pine nuts. Then, add your greens and
tomato.
Conclusion: Rooster sauce had to be brought to the rescue. At least there were pine nuts, which are made of magic.
3. CAULIFLOWER WITH PEANUT BUTTERY SAUCE EXPERIMENT
Cauliflower is awesome. Firstly, it's delicious, and secondly, it's got tons of Vitamin C, and thirdly, it promotes liver detox, which is good for drunks like you. It's also really porous and sucks up what you cook it in, so if you cook it in something terrific like peanut butter, you're good to go.
Chop up the vegetables you find in your refrigerator. I used squash,
red pepper, and onions.
Saute all that stuff.
Not that bad, actually.
Meanwhile, make some sort of hot/sweet/salty peanut butter-based sauce. You might add
things like, tamari/soy sauce/fish sauce/Braggs, vinegar, ketchup, brown sugar,
Rooster sauce, red pepper flakes. Mix it up, and add it to the veggies
when they're ready. Don't use as much peanut butter as I did.
Cover, turn down the heat, and let that stuff cook for a while. Take a moment to read In Praise of Braise.
Mail Bag
From: Annie
Subject: a couple comments on your lovely 12/16 slide show
hi!
1.) Look a little closer next time and you'll notice the adorable lil weimaraner head in that astronaut helmet at L'Enfant. It's a mural by William Wegman, who is actually a really rad artist, but unfortunately mostly just known as the "Weimaraner Guy." I guess NASA commissioned him to do those and lent him actual spaceman suits? Weird. Before he was the Weimaraner Guy he made a lot of really amusing videos, and if you ever find yourself online and looking for laughs, I highly recommend checking out his early video works over on the You Tube. Like this one, Stomach Song.
2.) I'm not sure I'd take those odds on the SPAM, Stan. Don't you know about
the Filipino love affair with spam? Googling this to backup my case
is difficult because of the other kind of spam, but seriously,
ask Les about it. It is a legit cultural phenomenon. I think it has
something to do with WWII. Like it's the 20th Century version of pox-infested
blankets. Google
did lead me to this world map made entirely of SPAM, which is actually
kinda beautiful.
(Yes, that's MEAT PAPER dot com.)
From: James
Subject: A short picture story
edward attempts to be the cool uncle.
parker is rather embarassed for him.
I posted a video on the internet of my friends playin with a kitty in a
window. It's from our senior spring break 2003. The original video looks
better but it's 30mb and not on the internet.
Cold dark quiet lonely morning with trash trucks in the alley is demoralizing,
but this awesome...
HK Joins the RSS Age
From Dan: HK RSS Beta
Hey dude, I wrote a parser that turns your site into an rss feed so I
can read it inside google reader. Check out the beta here: http://jloreview.com/hk/rss.xml.
So if you go over to reader.google.com,
just click "add subscription" and add the url I sent you. You get your
website content inside there. It's neat if you have a bunch of blogs you
like to read.
Bob rant: "motherfucking cocksuckers. i know that it's sort of
an apples/oranges comparison given the technological advances that have
taken place in video during the past decade, and i'm probably forgetting
about a substantial portion of the dumbass cutesy bullshit the clinton
admin pulled, esp when they moved into the final lame duck years, but
every year this fucking bullshit barney tour of the whitehouse christmas
decorations, etc, comes out and makes me want to commit all manner of
animal rights violations. i can't imagine that the clinton PR machine
would have done stuff that was this grating and childish, though i do
seem to remember having to endure nonsense about previous administrations'
first pets" Barney
Cam 2007
Coach: Looking Glass Lounge???
barfffffffff.
Miriam: I know, it's such an awful name!!
Coach: meanwhile, wonderland could easy be den of douches or asshat happening.
Miriam: I don't like this forcing of a theme. Why do both bars have to refer to Alice in Wonderland? It reminds me of the Diz. Miriam: I'm going to start a competing bar across the street called "Louis Carroll's Controversial Photography of Naked Children."
From: Brian Minter
Subject: new meredith bragg joint
Dear friends,
In case you do not visit the internet often, Meredith has a new record
out. It is excellent, and I would suggest you pick up several copies
(one for yourself, one for a friend, and one to store in its original
packaging to sell for hundreds of dollars in fifteen years).
A few years ago my brother got me scratch-offs for Christmas. So I sat there next to the tree scratching the tickets while my family watched, expecting, naturally, to lose....when....the last box revealed that I'd won. $10,000! So I was like, guys, I think I just won $10,000! and everyone was kind of shocked for a few seconds, and I was wondering what I would do with the money, and then Sean started laughing, and I should've known better because the kid did all his shopping at Spencer's Gifts.
I used to have a friend who'd lost his mom at a young age, and his dad did things like Christmas shopping at 7-Eleven. Which really isn't such a bad idea.
Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food.
~Austin O'Malley
Today we've got memories. Let's revisit the ghosts of this day(ish) in
HK history, because those who cannot remember the past are condemned to
repeat it. Also, I need some content.
Self-indulgent blather of yesteryears
1. December 11, 2002. Interview:
With the indubitable Ms. Constance, Esq!
5. December 12, 2006.
Mystery: Why I thought it would be amusing to put your names into nursery
rhymes. Also, stuff I claimed to want.
It's been 2007 for like a decade, right? Right. Please, end. And while
we're dredging Nostalgia River for bodies, let's take a moment to remember Mastheads
of the Past. Many are stupid, several are funny, a few are by Sherman,
and at least a couple are really unflattering.
It's beginning to look a lot like fucking Christmas
Good morning.
Littlest sister and evidence that Mayans got really stoned: Rare
Maya "Death Vase" Discovered. "I can't really imagine a chocolate
enema...or any enema for that matter. Mom could probably add a story or
two to the site about grandparents/enemas. Though, ew."
The More Things Change Dept.
During my second and last year of college at Ohio State, I lived in an
apartment with my friend Tess (here,
with Oscar), and for a while with Dana, who slept on the porch, made
a bong out of a pink plastic vase and a Bic pen, and played Tetris on
my old Mac Plus.
Me to Dana: Tetris still makes me think of you.
Dana: Ha! How appropriate because I just started playing tetris again. Did
you see the movie "King of Kong?" The arcade in that movie is a 2 hour
drive from Boston and we've gone up there a couple times for cheap old
school gaming thrills (plus there's a bowling alley and a bar!) I
started playing the competitive 2-player tetris there, complete with
Russian dancing soldiers between levels. It was way super ultra-fun!
Now I can't stop playing it's retarded cousin, the online version. It's
equally addictive: Blockz.
A couple weeks of phone card clearinghouse
I call this, Waiting for the Goddamn Bus.
SF: Mess's new office.
Marlz, "Sign at a bar in North Beach, SF."
DC tree.
Father James says, "parker loves the monster face."
SF: The meeting of Mess and Marlz
Tampa: Sister Jess, "They even logo tombstones!"
AJ: McAmerica
Cute sister sleeps on homework, by other cute sister.
DC, Florida Ave.
"And Sarah lived happily ever after..." Bye, SLyon!
I've been slowly working through this collection called The
Best American Nonrequired Reading 2004, and it's not
very good, but I liked one story so much that I've scanned it, sized it and fixed the contrast so as not to strain your pretty eyes. You know what that's called? Besides copyright infringement? That's love.
Kaui Hart Hemmings has apparently fleshed out this story into a novel
called The
Descendants. Perhaps you should buy it.
Now you can watch your MTV
When I was a wee lass I played on a summer traveling softball team, and our
catcher was a baby lesbian named Mary. Mary never washed her uniform, and
so walked around in a cloud of dirt perfectly reminiscent of Pig
Pen, which is what my stepdad called her. One night Mary had a slumber
party, and I remember two things about it: one, there was an aquarium
full of tarantulas in her living room, which my sleeping bag was much
too close to, and two, we all saw the coolest video ever.
Happy first snow, DC. And happy Hanukkah, Jew friends.
You people love some enemas. I've got two stories so far appropriate enough for a family newspaper. The others are too dirty even for this space.
chutes & bladder
by Coach
yes, i've had an enema. i can't say that i have anything interesting
to report about it, except that it clearly illustrated what my butt is
not for. kids of rustbelt casserole chefs have trouble getting fiber--who
could've guessed? in fact, i more disdainfully recall the one inch dusting
of scoopable fiber on my morning cereal, than that flaccid tube in my
ass. however, i do have a sort of jacob's ladder memory of my sister and
i sprawled out on the bathroom floor, getting dueling enemas. that had
to be a dream.
childhood scoreboard:
tubes in ears = three times
tubes in rear = one time
big kitty
by esg
my cat is enormous. you've met her, she's the thing that looks like a
rug. The cat flapjack, count fatula, ipso fatso, tubbelina.
one day a couple years ago, i noticed that kitty was not as pliable as
usual when i went to throw her around my neck like a jaunty scarf. and
she was really heavy. even heavier than heavy z was on a typical two-can
morning. and she was...firm. like a little hairy, pissed-off blimp. also,
the house smelled pretty good. something wasn't right.
food was going in, but nothing had come out for days. so i squeezed her
into the carrier and lugged my sad pet boulder to the vet and sat and
fretted.
when they slapped the cat-shaped x-ray onto the wall, i was horrified.
it was a picture of a cat full of shit. just full of it. ears, mouth,
feet, tail, and in the middle, all shit. the cat was "really backed
up," according to the expert opinion of the veterinary assistant.
she would need "to be flushed out."
what this entailed was three (!) enemas, over the course of 2 days. they
would fill 'er up, then there was apparently some stainless steel area
where an explosion occurred, then they would wash her off and put her
in a kennel until round 2, repeat. my cat was impacted. i had an impacted
cat. these enemas cost like $50 a pop. then there was and additional demonstration
of the need to "express" her anal glands, wherein the vet put
his finger up her butt, wiggled around, and proudly held up a "toothpaste-like"
pile of brown goo and charged me an additional $25. (this service was
added to my bill every visit. he was really into it. i asked if i could
do it myself at home, and he assured me that i did not want to go down
that road. but it seems so lucrative and perhaps versatile, cross-species.)
when the emptied-out cat was returned to me, she hid under the bed for
a few days, emerging only to scarf down the disgusting microwaved soup
of 1/2 water 1/2 canned food i was ordered to prepare. she started stinking
up the house immediately, and i was overjoyed to scoop after her. after
all, each turd was worth about $25.
Postscript:
The cult of the colon cleanse is a strange and exotic place. There are a lot of pictures available of people crowing about their poop and stabbing it with chopsticks and forks.
it also seems that this stuff is bunk, as you are really just paying to ingest a substance that makes your crap all weird and rubbery and slimy. your butt works just fine on its own if you eat right.
My favorite line came in Rambo III when Rambo was in Afghanistan, aiding
Islamic Militants (now our enemies) in their fight against the occupying
Russian military (now our allies). "I'm proud to be part of your
jihad," Rambo grunted to a nearby admiring brown man sporting a beard,
a turban, and an A-K 47.
But, alas, that was the last time we saw John Rambo. Since then, Rambo's
been living the simple, peaceful life of an ascetic on the border between
Thailand and Burma. He's spent his time fighting cobras for money, using
a mighty steel hammer to fashion pieces of molten iron into primitive
but incredibly pragmatic tools, and killing fishes for food with a compound
bow and arrows.
And that is the reason for this long story. On Friday, January 25, 2008,
Rambo is finally back in his aptly titled return to the big screen, 
, by Jerry Irby With His Texas Ranchers. Later.
Last night I was
hanging out with Julie and Chris and a friend who was present when Michael
Vick's polygraph test was administered (I think I'm allowed to say that
much), so naturally the conversation was about animals and humans, our
interactions, selective breeding, and so forth, and now I can't sleep,
so here is the short list of animals we have in our lives, here in DC,
that were not created by humans to ride, eat, fight, work, look at or
fit nicely into handbags. In short, wild animals. The list is: birds,
bugs, squirrels, rats, mice, racoons, possums, deer, and feral cats. I
suppose there are fish in those rivers, and some rodents I'm missing,
but that's about it.
Baby it's cold outside.
Let's see, what the hell to report. First, we had a very fine New Year's
gathering here at 1320. Another dance party like that and I'm pretty sure
the living room's going to end up in the basement. There were controlled
explosions and clothes swapping and first-degree burns and Sangria, which
means we've really grown up from the times of uncontrolled explosions,
wife swapping, third-degree burns and flaming Everclear. Time flies, don't
it? I think everyone enjoyed their cute selves, even the person who puked
in our bathtub.
