Oh man you guys, I have had one or five too many beers tonight. And by “one or five” I totally mean “five or ten”. See, it’s my Friday (NOTE: This is not an excuse for alcoholism).
How have you kids been? Well, I hope. OH GOD I DO NOT KNOW WHERE I AM GOING FROM HERE BECAUSE I AM SOUSED AND FULL OF RAGE!
Be back soon.
I think it was Hemingway that said you should “write drunk and edit sober.” Of course, it may have been Kathy Lee Gifford and I’m grossly misinformed.
And drunk.
Okay, maybe not drunk, but I’m working on another hefeweizen and desperately trying to figure out why I’ve neglected this thing for almost two months and where to go from here. I guess the last few weeks have left a foul taste in my mouth as far as self expression goes. Of course, they’ve also left me with about six dollars to my name the insides of my mouth chewed raw and pulpy.
So, you know, a belated happy holidays and all that jazz.
I’ve also missed the bus on those ridiculous “best of” lists. So of course I’ll throw one up over the net day or two, in the interest of being “fashionably late”.
I’ll go ahead and guarantee that Lady Ridiculous won’t be anywhere near a single list I’ve ever made. Well, except my “Top Ten Terrifying Things To Ever happen To Mankind”.
Oh man internet, it feels so good to have finally gotten some sleep. Granted, it took most of a twelve pack, some marathon love making, and six hours of Band Hero (so what if I do a mean Taylor Swift impression? I HAVE NEEDS TOO OKAY). All that matters is that for a little over eleven hours I slept the sleep of the narcoleptic. Except, instead of still being full clothed and behind the wheel of a Greyhound bus i was in my own bed and drooling all over the remarkably absorbent Tempurpedic pillow I stole received as a gift from an ex-girlfriend.
The hearty dinner of spicy black bean and corn chowder I’d made and devoured a few hours before didn’t hurt either. The secret ingredients of which are both love and chugging Miller High Life between adding every other ingredient. Okay, maybe one of those ingredients was just for me. It still did the trick and we ate like kings. Kings who would much later be rioting in a Wal-Mart bathroom and cursing about organic foods through the stall walls. Can you tell I love making poop jokes? They are my bread and butter.
And now I’m sitting here with a sleep hangover and trying to figure out what I’m going to make for dinner tonight. Unfortunately we don’t have much in our kitchen in the way of real food, though if you’d care for a can of tuna or three hundred, we’re your best bet on the west coast. Alright, I will concede that tuna does constitute “a real food”, but I’m trying to stick to a vegetarian diet and the last time I checked tuna isn’t a vegetable at all. I would normally make a joke about Tuna Schiavo at this point, but that’s a pretty dated reference don’t you think?
Probably I’ll just wind up coarsely chopping some baby carrots, mixing them into some hummus, and calling that dinner. Maybe if I’m really lucky I’ll be able to figure out a way to turn that into a hummus/carrot equivalent of a salmon patty. Or perhaps some sort of stuffed pepper can be arranged.
Wish me and my stomach luck.
It is quite late internet. Or is it quite early? What does 5:35am count as these days? I can never tell anymore, as sleep madness has pretty much taken over my life. Sleep madness is of course the colloquial term… Basically my insomnia has turned me into Jason from Home Movies.
So here I sit internet. I’m still in the middle of ripping all my CD’s to my laptop’s external hard drive and have discovered some interesting quirks in my musical taste. Somehow, my Zune has a playlist including:
Against Me!
The Proclaimers
Oingo Boingo
They Might Be Giants
Muddy Waters
Barbra Streisand
Black Flag
Roy Orbison
NOFX
and
Squarepusher
Basically, what I’m saying is that I’m a hopeless contradiction and should probably be much more ashamed of my musical tastes. Also, when I think that the fact I’m simultaneously listening to LCD Soundsystem and Hank Williams is blog-worthy it means I’ve officially gone over the edge and need to get some fucking sleep.
I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few weeks for the recipe of the lentil tacos I’m fairly well known for. I know, “lentil tacos? You fucking hippie.” Bear with me:
Lentils are a fantastic source of protein, fiber, and iron and are a pretty delicious alternative to meat. Plus, if you’re even a quarter as immature as I am they are pretty much nature’s perfect laff fuel. I mean, does your job involve riding an elevator at any point? Then you, my friend, are made. That having been said, I’m not a strict vegetarian and by no means am I a vegan. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine a day without a gore-drenched length of a coworker’s intestine and a glass of milk to wash it down.
I wish I could say I came up with these bad boys, but the credit (as near as I can tell) falls squarely with Asbjorn Intonsus. If you enjoy vegetarian/vegan fare and death metal you should pick up a copy of the vegan cookbook “Please Don’t Feed The Bears!“. The bonus? A recipe for homemade absinthe!
Lentil Tacos
The Ingredients
1 1/2 Cup of Dried Lentils
3 1/2 to 5 Cups of Water
1 Bay Leaf
1 Stalk of Celery
1 Clove of Garlic (Crushed)
1/2 Teaspoon of Sea Salt
1/8 Teaspoon of Dried Thyme
1 1/2 Cups of Tomato Sauce
1-1 1/2 Tablespoons of Taco Seasoning Mix
8 Taco Shells
1 1/2 Cups Shredded Lettuce
1 Medium Onion (Diced)
1 Large Tomato (Diced)
The Method
Sort and wash the lentils (stones sometimes slip past the factory and will crack your teeth in a spectacular fashion). Combine lentils, water, bay leaf, celery, garlic, salt, and thyme in a pot and place over medium high heat. Once it’s boiling, reduce the heat and let it simmer uncovered for an hour and a half (stirring occasionally and adding more water as needed). When it’s done, remove the pot from the heat and discard the bay leaf and the celery stalk (I like to eat the celery while I’m getting plates and silverware together). Combine the tomato sauce and taco seasoning and make sure it’s mixed well while the taco shells heat in your oven (follow the directions specific to each brand on the shell’s packaging). Spoon the lentils (I like a fork or even a slotted spoon, as the lentils will still be pretty wet) into the shells, top with the tomato sauce and other toppings, and dig in. Leftover lentil mixture is pretty great the next day in a whole wheat wrap with lettuce, tomato, and bean sprouts.
I don’t know about you guys, but around here it is finally starting to get cold enough to need a jacket, turn on the heater, and keep my pants mostly on while I masturbate. It’s also getting cold enough for reasonably hearty fare. Specifically: soups and chowders. That having been said, eat this:
Carrot And Stout Soup
The Ingredients:
12 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter
4 lbs Medium Sized Carrots (cut into 1 inch pieces)
8 Cups Chicken or Vegetable Stock
2 Cups Guinness (Though any stout will do)
4 Cups Heavy Cream
1/4 Cup Sugar
Kosher Salt, to taste
Fresh Cracked Black Pepper, to taste
16 Star Anise Pods
This makes an INSANE amount of soup though, so you may want to halve the recipe. As a decent change of pace, you may want to try using some red bell peppers in lieu of/conjunction with the carrots. A decent squash or maybe even a pumpkin would probably do this bad boy wonders as well.
“Why do you keep starting over?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t answer my question with another question! Who do you think you are, David Caruso?”
No internet, I don’t think I’m David Caruso at all. For one thing, I look awful in sunglasses. Plus I’ll never be able to pull off those ridiculous stances. Maybe he just has awkward shoulders? I shouldn’t judge. After all, don’t we all have figure flaws that need minimizing? Personally, I’m getting a bit on the chunkier side. And you internet? Well to be perfectly honest you’re starting to become a swollen and entirely unappealing mess. But you know what? Dove says that’s okay. And we all know Dove wouldn’t lie to us.
That’s right: Advertising is truth, truth advertising.* At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what Keats was getting at. Right?
No you see internet (can I call you “internet”?) the thing is that I’m a pretty restless dude. I don’t sleep, I drink too much coffee and even more whiskey. I’m constantly restarting things, launching spectacular failures, canceling promising projects, and generally throwing my life into an uproar in the name of BEING ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT FUCKING CRAZY!
Really. I’m not even counting my crushing depression and seasonal mood swings in this. I’m fairly certain I’m going to devolve into a blithering psychotic mess at any moment. Or at the very least find myself pulling a Jack Torrance and sitting in front of a typewriter until my brain melts. Though, I’d like to think I’ll have a decidedly Arthur Dentish edge.
And I. Can’t. Wait. I mean come on, crazy guys get all the chicks. Look at Hunter S. Thompson and Bukowski.
So basically internet (I hope it’s still okay that I’m calling you “internet”) here I am again: Crazy, strung out, more than a little hungover, and begging for your attention. Love me internet. Love me like I love you.
At least until I get antsy.
*Sidenote: One instance where advertising is indeed beauty (and in turn truth) is the Levi’s “Go Forth” campaign. I still get chills every time I see one of their ads.
