Topics

 

http://www.mypeepeebottle.com/

Now that Ecstasy cures it: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-14572284

Modified ecstasy could one day have a role to play in fighting some blood cancers, according to scientists.

Ecstasy is known to kill some cancer cells, but scientists have increased its effectiveness 100-fold, they said in Investigational New Drugs journal.

Their early study showed all leukaemia, lymphoma and myeloma cells could be killed in a test tube, but any treatment would be a decade away.

A charity said the findings were a "significant step forward".

Friday, Friday

I jolt awake with the sound of a squirrel scrabbling across my roof. It's barely dawn, and though it was chilly last evening, somehow the weather has shifted during the night and my room is humidly oppressive even with the windows wide open.

Friday

The recollections flood me as they do every morning; realization of what I have to face, what's left undone. Loose ends, deadlines, regrets. The things I need to deal with to try to keep it all from falling apart. I take a deep breath, the precursor to a sob, and my breath catches on too many cigarettes smoked with too much whiskey choked down with too much grief. I promise myself, again, that I will quit smoking. For me, for the kids.

Gotta get down

Downstairs. Brush my teeth. It's Friday. Fuck, my head. Fuck, fuck. Why do I do this to myself? Water with ice in it, a cup of tea. I have to wake up the kid and take her to her job if she isn't fired after yesterday. Open the door, go out to the car with the stolen radio. Overdue for an oil change. What isn't overdue?

Down

Once I'm in the car I can feel it. Not the song of the bridges; no, that's not so loud in the summer. Not the lure of the tunnels, because I haven't been to the tunnels for two years and I'm not sure I can go back anymore, maybe not ever again. This time, again, it's the hum of the End of the World, and it's getting stronger, closer than it ever was. North. It's always north. I feel hunted, I feel chased. I want a gun and a supply of canned foods and a full gas tank, and to get on the road, to run, run.

Get down

Some people get their ya-yas at  house parties, bars, or deep dirty fucking a stranger in the alley behind 7-11. I never got much out of that. I can feel it coming on me, breathing wetly down my neck. I can feel it sticky and warm on my back. I need to go, get out of here, find my own personal Tibet where I can hide in the last village  on the mountain before the Chinese government slaughters us. No

Down with

It's not like that. Covered in linen, kneading my breasts, I sit in my Volvo station wagon and contemplate the road. I can SMELL the place I need to be, I want it underfoot. I want to lie down in it, on the moss beside the creek I've never seen. I want my bones to scatter and mold there. My nails dig into the skin on my arms and I press my feet hard against the floor. The road is singing, begging, calling me to press THIS hard against the gas pedal on the roads so sparsely-traveled that no one bothers to patrol them. I can camp on government lands like I did before, I can stay out there for days weeks months on end and no one will know, no one will find me, not even my scattered remains when I'm long done. And everyone will miss me, but not for long because it's COMING.

Friday.

I start the car, and I drive North.

EVERYONE EVER BORN WHO HAS ANY KIND OF SOCIAL LIFE.

http://daff0dil.blogspot.com/2011/08/saying-no.html

A small excerpt:

I am beginning to suspect one of the greatest keys to happiness is learning how to say no.

This is not just about setting boundaries, which is, indeed, very important. This is not about making time to say yes to the things you really want or should to say yes to.

It is about the kind of maturity found in rejecting ideas, notions and, yes, sometimes people, with grace and kindness.

Enumerated, in no particular order, are a list of rules I wish more people would consider:

1. You do not an explanation.
Really. You don't. You do NOT need to give a long list of reasons you can't make something, or enumerate all the obligations you have that would come before another's needs. You don't even need a litany of apologies. In fact, the more information you give to people, the more information they have to evaluate you, your priorities and your rejection with, and the more likely they are to find insult and fault. Do I really want to know that you are putting laundry before my birthday? Do I really want to know that weekly date night supersedes your friends wedding? I really just don't. All you are doing with a litany of excuses is revealing a list of priorities that take precedence over that invitation. So,be kind, but be succinct.

... is also, approximately, equivalent to my dating technique. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsGs6oEGxJM&feature=player_embedded

When we first went out,
you were in your jacket
with suede patches.
Tall, gawky, awkward,
all tweed and elbows,
a balding professor
of a Lothario.

I asked you why
you were doing
what you were, and the
conversation lasted
well into the night.
I didn't know if I liked you,
but I thought I'd like
to see you again.

It was a month later
that you gave me the letter
that changed everything
and shaped the relationship
we were to have together,
and I still have the letter
in a box, along with books,
a poster of us, the perfume
I used to wear for you,
and the earrings
you bought me in Arizona.

We were more than lovers;
you were the Father-King
and I was your Empress.
We were legendary,
we were beautiful,
we bested the curse
of the Thunderbird
and emerged clean
from the Valley of Death.

We went through the desert
in monsoon, we were struck
by lightning, we drove all night
under shooting stars
to arrive delirious
in the morning
in Her Chosen City.

Oh Eater of Souls,
the things we saw together!
We saw places
through our four eyes
that no one else had ever seen,
not the way we saw them.
We saw bears
and glowing centipedes,
caves and herds of elk.
You were the golden plains
and I was the road.
The railroad track
was our story.

I made a legend for you,
my Spore of the Desert.
The legend is alive
and growing, even though
you are lost to your Queen.

It's been taken up
and propagated
by your people,
who are my people.
You don't know
how it grows, because
you're not here for me
to share it with.

I yearn to show you
my beautiful, terrible gift,
but the world you are in
is not my world.
Not anymore.

Oh my King,
love of my life.
Every time I turn around
and you are not there,
I feel the gap in my synapses
where you used to connect.
Can you still feel my feelings?
Because I can no longer
think your thoughts.

I'll meet you at the railroad tracks
when the rains begin again.

Make a wish.

A few days ago I placed a personals ad. The following email exchange then took place:

On 8/2/11 12:58 PM, Easy Duzit <eduzit714@gmail.com> wrote:

        Is it OK if I am tall, dark, handsome and well hung?

        I am 6' 3" and about 235.

        Do you like massage and erotic massage as well as the other activities you listed?

        Let me know if you are interested.

        EZ

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 1:36 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    Hi! Yes, it is OK. Tell me more about yourself... age, location and marital status? Here are a couple of me.

On 8/2/11 2:04 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> Hi [Nigel's real name],
>
> From the description I thought that this might be you. I almost answered the post with your name. I hope that you are feeling better than when last we spoke. You look younger.
>
> Since I do have a sense of what you are looking for and know a bit about you, I will get right to what I wish to offer you.
>
> Loving touch in the form of massage
> Affirmation of your beauty (not in a rote way, but you will definitely know)
> Careful and expert attention to your physical wants and needs (I will check in as we go along)
> Plenty of space to sort out the rest of your life when you need it
> Someone to talk to who will listen attentively and speak from the heart
> A graceful and loving exit if and when the time comes
>
> and a beer...
>
> Let me know if you have any interest....
>
> No is a fine answer. Yes would be the one I prefer.
>
>
> Tony

At this point I am thinking this is a guy named Tony that I went on one date with right after my breakup, who was really nice but I was in no place to be dating so I didn't see him again. I am slightly thrown by the... weirdness... but figured he seemed pretty great when I met him before, so why not go on another date?

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 2:21 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    Hi Tony! Yeah, I lied about my age; figured I might as well, since everyone is always surprised by my real age. I am gradually recovering from my heartbreak, but not quite enough to want to date "for real" yet.

    But, yes, I would be interested in spending time with you...

On 8/2/11 2:27 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> I was not calling you on that beautiful. I was just teasing you a bit. Calendar age is clearly the lie where you are concerned.
>
> Beer first or would you prefer to sip one while I rub the tension away?
>
> Are you near Lloyd Center? I thought you were west of town for some reason.
>
> I live near Mt. Tabor.

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 2:33 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    I'd actually like to just meet up for a beer first, to re-establish a rapport... perhaps Thursday? Did you move from the SW area? I thought you were way out there, Tabor isn't so far. I'm midpoint between Alberta Arts and Lloyd.

On 8/2/11 2:36 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> No, I have lived in my house for 10 years.
>
> Thursday is good for me. I will probably be on my bike if the weather is good.
>
> I am happy to ride out your way some on the way home if you have a place in mind.

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 3:53 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    Hey! You are not the Tony I thought you were. I met a guy named Tony about five months ago and had a really nice time, but was too much of a wreck over the situation with my off-and-on-ex to even try to date so I've been waiting. I've never actually met you, have I?

    That's OK, I will on Thursday.

On 8/2/11 4:08 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> I was going to spare you this but you stood me up the day after your birthday on a lunch date.
>
> It was clear that you needed some time and space.
>
> No hard feelings and I am glad that we reconnected.
>
> But yes... we have never met.

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 8:15 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    Did I ever get a face picture of you? Can I get one before we meet, please? Simply because I am skeptical of men who won't show me what they look like...

On 8/2/11 8:26 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> Please read our previous email thread if you have not done so. It was associated with your email address [nigel@nigelshouse.org].
>
> If you decide that you do not wish to meet me on Thursday, please give me as much prior notice as possible so that I can make other plans.
>
> Thanks,
>
> Tony

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 10:02 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    I only have my side of the conversation in my sent mail folder, and not yours (although reading through what I sent you, I did at least discover that I didn't stand you up, but sent you an email cancelling that morning) and it looks like you didn't send me a face pic then either? I must have really been falling apart! I normally wouldn't make a date with anyone whose face I hadn't seen. And other details, like age, marital status, etc.

    When we were conversing earlier today I was thinking you were the Tony I met in March... but you're not, so that changes things a bit.

    Anyway, if you can provide me with those, great, if not, I'll cancel and wish you luck in your search!

On 8/2/11 10:03 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> I think that you are probably more trouble than you are worth.
>
> Good luck

On Tue, Aug 2, 2011 at 10:10 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    Yeah, I'm awfully picky. Thanks, good luck to you as well!

On 8/2/11 10:13 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> Being selective is good. That is not what I am talking about.

On Thu, Aug 4, 2011 at 2:17 PM, [Nigel] wrote:

    And I bet you're a senior citizen. Sorry, elderly douchebags don't make the cut. I have enough dates lined up for now that I don't feel any need to deal with manipulative shitfuckers like yourself, so go take out your dentures and choke on a dog dick, grandpa.

On 8/4/11 2:34 PM, Easy Duzit wrote:
> I had a feeling that you had a really unstable ugly side, but I do like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I see that there isn't any doubt at this point.
>
> I am probably the nicest person that has emailed you. I am exactly what I say I am. I can see that this has not been your experience previously.
>
> I can also run rings around you even without an ACL in my right knee (blew it up 4 weeks ago). I am 8 years, 1 month and 8 days older than you.

> There is something about your persona that attracted me. I particularly liked that you worked with glass in the way that you do. I am sorry that life has kicked you in the teeth as many times > as it has.
>
> I hope you find a nice person who treats you well.
>
> Go in peace.
>
> Tony

On 8/4/11 3:00 PM, [Nigel] wrote:
That's not my ugly side... that's my "laughing at random internet creep who lied about me standing him up and thinks I'm too much trouble because I wanted to know his age, marital status, and what he looks like" side.

As for the nicest person who has emailed me... no. So far, the information I have shows that you're a Craigslist regular, are dishonest (lied about me standing you up), manipulative (went for the overly-familiar approach, when that didn't work went for the negative hit approach) and evasive (won't give age, marital status, or show face) all of which are red flags for you being an old, ugly, married rapist who trolls Craigslist constantly looking for younger women he can trick into meeting at bars where he can slip them a roofie.

And one big reason my life is quite lovely is because I listen to my intuition on these things. I'd rather be wrong than put myself in a bad situation.

Just thought I'd do the public service of letting you know that, other than the occasional low-self-esteem trainwreck, that's how you come across to women. And that's why, while I have a raft of handsome 30-somethings to meet and will be hiking Mt. Adams with a steady within a month, you'll still be on Craigslist trying pathetically to cheat on your wife.

And remember, I have nothing to hide, but I do have your IP address.

http://trendland.net/2011/07/31/sweet-meat-by-jasmin-schuller/

http://guyforceshiswifetodressinagarbagebagforthenextthreeyears.com/

This website, what the fuck oh holy crap IS THAT A FITTED BEDSHEET??? 

http://www.yvettesbridalformal.com/

I'm fucking fed up with it. What do we have to do, as a society, to end this bullshit?

One of the things that pisses me off is how much of a taboo is built around it. It makes people SO FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE. I'm increasingly aware that the phrase "It's best to put it behind you" is code for "What happened to you makes me uncomfortable and I don't want to think about it". It has nothing to do with healing, or growth, or moving forward; it's entirely about the mental convenience of other people. Don't talk about it. For the love of god, if you must talk about it, be vague, speak in the third person, and don't give specifics of your own experience. It makes them cringe. Your pain makes them cringe. Their cringing is half the reason for your pain.

People convince themselves that there are rules of behavior for avoiding being raped, so that they can be filled with the smug complacency of "it won't happen to me". It's like pretending that the tsunami in Japan occurred because they prayed to the wrong gods; it gives people a sense of security and control. But, it's a false sense of security and control. Sometimes there are things you could have done differently (listen to your foreboding when the man follows you outside, and go back inside until he's gone) and sometimes there aren't (you couldn't have known he slipped into your apartment while you were taking the garbage out) but all the rest of it... pretending that it has to do with low-cut tops, short skirts, talking to strange men, walking alone at night, or being alone in bars... that's all wishful thinking designed to assuage our own discomfort with the idea that there are human predators out there choosing who to rape on the basis of the probability that they can get away with it. It's convenient to ignore statistics that show that most rapes happen either in the woman's home, or the home of the rapist. Dark alleyways? Not so much. It's convenient to ignore statistics that show that most rape victims are raped by someone they know. A friend of a friend, in a situation they had no reason to distrust.

One of the pieces of advice that's commonly given women is that to avoid being raped, they should vary their routine. That is to say, to not leave the house at the same time every day, or take the same route, or return home at the same time every day.

So that pretty much rules out having a job. Or even taking the kids to school.

There is virtually no punishment for rape in America. Most rapes are not reported and those few that are reported are rarely successfully prosecuted. The rapist gets a second chance, but the victim does not. The victim takes the blame for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Worse yet are the consequences to her personal and romantic life; not only are the emotional damages staggering, such that she may start pushing away people that she loves and whose support she craves, but also the fear around rape is so profound that, without even knowing it, often husbands or lovers will distance themselves. Suddenly they simply don't have the desire they once had, or they've decided they just want something different from their lives.

What they want is a woman who hasn't been shadowed by the touch of fear, by the frightening taboo, but they could never recognize, let alone voice that. So, guilt-ridden, they come up with excuses for why they leave. Excuses that are usually not hard to find, as, flailing in her confusion and pain, she is not the easiest person to live with. And then she is left alone with it, wondering how to start over.

Just one more way rape is the gift that keeps on giving.

I have no idea

http://www.google.com/mapmaker/pulse

FILM AT 11.

http://www.asknature.org/strategy/32f38eb481d727ec0421834ca85047e9

So they're not only ADORABLE, they also help reduce the spread of malaria.

"That an East African predator might single out malaria vectors as preferred prey is of considerable interest. Not only is malaria the world's most important insect-borne threat to public health [1,2], but it is especially in sub-Sahara Africa that Plasmodium falciparum and lethal malaria are prevalent [2,3,4,5]. Vectors of human malaria all belong to a particular mosquito genus, Anopheles [1,6,7]. Here we consider Evarcha culicivora, an East African jumping spider [Salticidae]. This species is known only from the vicinity of Lake Victoria in East Africa [8], a region where, even by African standards, the impact of malaria is especially severe [2,9,10]. Innate preference for blood-carrying female mosquitoes was shown for all active size classes of E. culicivora in an earlier study [11], but finer-grain preference for specifically Anopheles was not investigated. Here we show that, when sated, both large and small individuals of E. culicivora single out Anopheles as their preferred prey, and small juveniles of this predator prefer Anopheles even when fasted." (Nelson and Jackson 2006:1)

Hello, I am freakishly cute and I'm saving your life.
                              \

... but I totally fucking love "Judas".

(Sorry for the self-indulgent tripe. I haven't written in over a year and I'm rusty. Seems like a good starting point.)

Every Sunday at ten am
the kids go away
and I fall apart.

No, this is what happens;
I make him bacon and coffee
and we say goodbye to the kids
and we we go back to bed
and make sexytime
then we drive up the Gorge
to go hiking.

Or we just hang out
and get a little work done
and get a little stoned
and play Civillization.

That's how it really goes.
But for the last four months
after my children leave
I sit at my desk
with a fist of grief
as big as a house
inside my chest.

I am trying to figure out
what my heart is holding onto
so hard.

7/10, this Sunday night, at the Alleyway, 7pm. EOT and I will be there; don't make us hang out alone!

WHY IS NIGEL THORNBERRY EVERYWHERE ALL OF A SUDDEN? IT'S MAKING ME SELF-CONSCIOUS.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

http://www.broadstreetreview.com/index.php/main/article/male_sex_abuse_and_female_naivete/

Logan's cleavage

Smullens argues that women need to speak up and speak out when they're victimized, as Lara Logan has done, and of course she is right. But having stumbled across a CBS publicity photo for Lara Logan (above), I can't help thinking that women also need to take sensible precautions before they're victimized.

For example: Don't trust your male friends. Don't go to a man's home at night unless you're prepared to have sex with him. Don't disrobe in front of a male masseur. If you take a job as a masseuse, don't be shocked if your male customers think you're a prostitute. And if you want to be taken seriously as a journalist, don't pose for pictures that emphasize your cleavage.

Yes, yes, I know: Each of us wears many personas. A woman journalist like Lara Logan should be able to celebrate herself as both a journalist and a woman, even a sexy woman. But the operative word in that sentence— should— is the sticky point.

From rape to war

Many of the tragedies mentioned above spring from what I see as a naïve faith in the power of the modern sexual revolution. Women today are technically free to do all sorts of things that were forbidden to their grandmothers, which is all well and good. But in practice, rape and the notion of sexual conquest persist for the same reason that warfare persists: because the human animal— especially the male animal— craves drama as much as food, shelter and clothing. Conquering an unwilling sex partner is about as much drama as a man can find without shooting a gun— and, of course, guns haven't disappeared either.

Earth to liberated women: When you display legs, thighs or cleavage, some liberated men will see it as a sign that you feel good about yourself and your sexuality. But most men will see it as a sign that you want to get laid.

I AM TRYING TO SHIT ON YOU AT EVERY OPPORTUNITY BUT YOUR MATERIAL IS KIND OF UNMEMORABLE

WORK HARDER

I DON'T HAVE MUCH SPARE TIME FOR THIS SO I PRETTY MUCH ONLY SKIM FOR KEYWORDS. TRY TO BE CONCISE.

... now that I am better dialed in to something that's selling like a motherfucking bitch out there, I have a fuckramp of beads that I am purging from my inventory on eBay; most of them are still at .99  if anyone wants to give it a go and maybe snag a bargain: http://stores.ebay.com/The-Beadwife?_trksid=p4340.l2563

I have a deep psychological need to clear out old work when I shift gears, so it all has to go. More to come.

I especially recommend the taco recipe: http://www.paulnoll.com/Oregon/Cooking/Casserole/

Now that's Oregon cooking at its finest!

I have to buy a new shipping computer. I'm going to try to spend less than $400. Any recommendations/advice?

One thing I've learned again and again is that when someone seems very high-maintenance and exacting, they are unlikely to be satisfied with anything no matter how hard you try. They will try to make their happiness your responsibility, and are rarely happy with anything less than the perfect realization of the image in their mind. As a result I have learned to walk away from people who require too much work. I can tell they aren't going to be happy in the long run, and that they will blame me for it.

Walking away is hard when you think you can help make someone happy, but most of the time it's just not worth it. They have already decided to be disappointed with anything less than perfection, and life is imperfect.

SPECIALTIES, SAUSAGES, AND LARD

Prime steam lard. This type of lard is made from killing and cutting
fats. It is rendered in a closed tank under steam pressure of from 30 to 50
pounds. The temperature at which the lard is rendered is about 285°F.
Most of the lard on the market falls under this classification.

Neutral lard. Neutral lard is rendered at a very low temperature of
about 120°F. It is made entirely from leaf fat. It is used almost entirely
in the manufacture of oleomargarine.

Dry rendered lard. This is essentially a kettle rendered lard except that
a closed container is used and usually under reduced pressure. This method
of making lard gives a product which has a fine flavor and excellent keep-
ing quality.

The texture in lard varies with the way in which it is cooled. Smooth
lard is chilled rapidly by rotating a refrigerated drum in melted lard.
Grainy lard is cooled slowly in what is called a "settling tank,''' and is
allowed to chill in the container.

Food Value of Lard

Energy value. Lard is valued as a source of energy. Being 100 per cent
fat, it furnishes more than 4,000 calories per pound, therefore, even a
small amount of lard used in making a food product increases the energy
value of that product.

Digestibility. Lard is easily digested and is almost completely utilized
by the body. Lard is 97 per cent digestible, which is the same as butter.

Essential unsaturated fatty acids. Recent investigations have revealed
that lard possesses nutritional value heretofore unrecognized. It has been
found to contain essential unsaturated fatty acids. A deficiency of these
unsaturated fatty acids in the diet results in retarded growth and certain
skin conditions. Lard has been found to be superior to hydrogenated fats
in this respect.

Lard, therefore, is valuable in the diet because it is:

1. An excellent source of energy.

2. Easily digested

3. Almost completely utilized

4. A rich source of essential fatty acids

Culinary Uses of Lard

Lard has many uses as a cookery fat. It has an advantage over many other
fats in that it has a wide plastic range, which simply means that lard is
pliable and can be worked over a wide range of temperatures. It may be
removed from the refrigerator and used immediately as it is not brittle.

Deep fat frying. The smoking point of good lard is above 380° F.,
although this will vary with the kind of lard, the number of times it has
been used, and the care it has received. No food needs a higher temperature
than 380° F., and many can be fried at a much lower temperature. While
its smoking point is a little lower than that of some other fats used in deep
fat frying, lard will show less change from time to time while being used,
especially if care is taken not to overheat it.

Overheating causes the formation of acrolein which has an irritating
effect on the eyes and nose and throat. The frying life of the fat also is
shortened. When fat is heated to the smoking point, decomposition is tak-
ing place, therefore, the smoking temperature should never be used as an
indication that the fat is hot enough for frying. The best way to test the
temperature of the fat is a thermometer. Lacking a deep fat thermometer,
use the bread cube test: Drop a one-inch cube of bread in hot lard. Fat at
350° F., will brown bread cube in not less than one minute; at 360° F..
will brown in one minute; and 370° F., in about 40 seconds.

After each use, lard should be strained through cheesecloth to remove
any food particles. To remove very fine particles, the lard should be
clarified by putting slices of raw potato into the kettle of cold lard and
heating gradually until the potato is well browned, and then straining.
When not in use the lard should be covered and stored in a cool place.

Frying. Lard is used for frying foods such as eggs, potatoes, and other
foods which are cooked in a small amount of fat.

Pastry. Lard has been proved by experience and by experiment to have
a greater shortening value than any of the plastic fats. Since the value of
a fat for pastry making is measured in terms of its shortening power, lard
is widely used in pies and other pastries. Lard not only produces a tender,
but a flaky crust as well. For this reason it is valued in pastry making.

Cakes. Recent studies on the use of lard in cake making have demon-
strated that white cakes of fine texture and flavor can be made with lard by
modifying the method of mixing the cake. Lard cakes have excellent keeping
qualities, remaining moist for several days.

Modified method for mixing lard cakes. In the modified method the pro-
cedure is: (1) Cream the lard and sugar with a little milk (the addition of
the milk makes creaming easier), reserving one- fourth of the sugar to beat
with the egg whites; (2) stir egg yolks into rest of the milk (this varies from
the usual practice of adding the eggs to the creamed sugar and lard) ; (3)
beat egg whites until stiff and dry and add the remaining one-fourth of sugar
and beat until the sugar just disappears: If) sift the salt (lard contains no
salt as does butter) , flour, and baking powder together three times; I 5) add
part of flour first, then milk and flour alternately in usual way; (6) fold
in egg whites carefully.

Other uses for lard. Lard may be used as the shortening in main
other baked products. Among these are: Biscuits, hot breads, bread, cookies,
and griddle cakes.

Excerpted from "Ten Lessons On Meat For Use In Schools", 1940, by the National Live Stock and Meat Board. Dept. of Home Economics.
http://www.archive.org/details/tenlessonsonmeat00natirich

IT'S ALREADY STARTED: http://www.oregonlive.com/pacific-northwest-news/index.ssf/2011/06/man_bursts_through_door_with_dead_animal_and_declares_its_not_a_weasel_its_a_marten.html

OK JUST KIDDING.

But it has crossed my mind more than once that he is hot hot hot and it always makes me a little uncomfortable to even have that thought. But then I was thinking, what would be the social ramifications of dating a stepsibling? It's not like we were raised together; I didn't even meet him until I was 20. So, it's not actually technically incest. So, why does it still seem so weird to think about it?

http://www.good.is/post/you-won-t-attract-women-with-cellphone-pictures-of-your-penis/

Anybody else from here hear about a Pagan forum called the Cauldron? I've heard about it from a couple of TCC refugees who said it seems like a fairly free-thinking place, and am wondering if it's worth checking out?

Wow, just when I didn't think gullible "alternative medicine" fans could come up with ANYTHING stupider...

http://www.oilpulling.org/oil-pulling/

Seriously. What. Just what. 

Remember when we first met? Oh, man. I was a young thing in my second of a string of unhappy marriages and you... you were a Force to be Reckoned With. I think in your very early 40's, close to the age I am now. What we had in common was a love of beads, me for making them and you for making amazing works of art with them. I met you on rec.crafts.beads, back in the heyday... it was so busy back then! I stuck my head in, and you were the first to welcome me. You were almost ALWAYS the first to welcome anyone... it was what you did. And good goddamn if you weren't both a royal bitch who would lay it on the line, HARD, and also the sweetest pussycat anyone ever had the pleasure to talk to! You did not mince words, not in the least, and you would slice through bullshit with a tongue and a wit that was sharp as knives.

There were a lot of us back then, and most of us are still here. Not on the newsgroup, which gradually dissipated in a mist of trolls and spam, as newsgroups did a few years back, but here on the planet, alive, still making and playing with the beads you loved so much.

You were such a driving force on the group... remember ESBC? Evil Sooz's Bead Cronies... that was us! Or maybe it stood for Evil Sooz's Bitch Cabal, I can't remember. It could be either one, really, because we tolerated no shit. We laughed so much together, all of us, and even though we fought among ourselves, and even though you would spare no quarter when schooling a regular who rubbed you the wrong way, GOD HELP THE FOOL who dared step to any one of us. Many times it happened that someone new would come to the group and try to pull a better-than-you routine on someone they perceived to be weaker or more vulnerable than the others, and you would waste no time in verbally knocking that sucker OUT OF THE RING. People hated you! But oh, lovely Sooz, so many more of us loved you.

Your love was so evident; you never held back. If you cared about someone there was never a moment of fear, never a moment of hesitation in letting them know. You weren't afraid of looking soft or being rejected, you just gave openly of your love, and you were happy to sing it to the world. Your dog! So much devoted tenderness to sweet Mercury. I remember walking him that time. Oh Mercury. Just around the block, baby, it's OK if that's all we can do today.

And the love of your life, your Kevin. I can't think too much about what Kevin must be feeling right now, or I won't be able to write any more. Remember that time, sweetheart, that you were in a panic, in tears thinking his life might not be as long as yours? Oh love, oh love.

Remember your birthday banquet? Your family is so beautiful, Sooz, and so loving. Like you. They treated me like family, and Kevin's family did too. I gave you a bead with white flowers and you said I was as good as Kim Miles. You meant it, too! You have never been one for flattery. You encouraged me so much, you pushed me so hard... you made me believe I could make a living doing what I loved. And I did. Thank you so much, dear heart. What a gift you gave me, and my children!

I will never forget the squeal of delight, later, when I gave you your other gift, a puffy heart that said "BITCH" on it.

Remember how I came and slept in your guest room for 18 hours, exhausted from my impossible schedule? When I woke up you scrounged me some midafternoon breakfast, and then we went to the store and bought gourmet marshmallows. I can't remember now... did we make s'mores over the stove? No, I think we used the microwave, and we ate them ALL! You couldn't drink because of the pain medication that kept you mobile and functional despite your chronic back injury from being hit by a truck (how you pulled off being such a sweetheart, so wicked quick, and so creative under those circumstances, I will always marvel at!) but I drank some wine. I might even have had the whole bottle. And we laughed, and laughed, and laughed!

Remember how you used to write bead descriptions for me? I swear that your touch was pure magic; anything you wrote a description for sold just like THAT. Some of your descriptions were poetic, some were edgy, and some were just plain out there. I loved every one of them, and my customers did too. Naughty Chi-Chi!

I still can't believe you sorted out all those spilled beads. You have the patience of a saint. I always wanted to be like you when I grew up. Is it time to grow up yet? Already?

For the last three years since my divorce, I have meant to come visit you. I meant to, and I never had the money for it. I passed through the Bay area last august, and I wanted to stop in but I didn't have time. Damn money. Damn time. I didn't know, love, I didn't know.

Darling Sooz, someday we will run away to Mexico like we always planned, and it will be you and me, Chi-Chi and Lola, sipping margaritas on the beach in Cozumel.

I will love you always,

-Your wicked bead-slinging Jezebel,

Or kill me


In memory of my beloved friend Susan Yasinitsky Hara, who succumbed to complications from brain cancer on Tuesday, May 31, 2011. She was a beautiful person and a light in my life.

Is anyone else a player?

http://sf0.org/

I'm Nigel, if you want to friend me...

I love this fucking otter.

http://stupidotter.blogspot.com/

I know you are probably the one most likely  to be able to answer this question:

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=29292.0

Under what circumstances would a person leave several pounds of damp shake on top of a dumpster? I mean... I would assume that it's been used for something, and that's why it's damp, but what was it used for?

REALLY?

http://networkedblogs.com/i7J3X?ref=nf

I loled. http://www.digitaltrends.com/computing/apple-causes-religious-reaction-in-brains-of-fans-say-neuroscientists/

THIS IS YOUR NEW THEME SONG.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WdVT0EWBtW8&feature=player_embedded

Hey y'all,

I am thinking about doing Hot Dogs In The Park again on 5/22. Who's in?

[edited by ECH to reflect change in planned date]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_rBidCkJxo&feature=player_embedded

I have been thinking about the difference in men who claim to be shy, between shyness and fear of women, which is what some men who claim to be "shy" actually exhibit. Since I know many men who are legitimately shy but are not specifically afraid of women, I think these are two separate categories. Gynophobia combined with a sense of entitlement often seems to result in a misonynistic rhetoric, in which the gynophobic man feels oppressed by "female sexual privilege", yet feels both entitled to and deprived of sexual attention from attractive women. This seems to me to be a completely different pathology from actual shyness, which follows a socially differentiated path rather than a sexually differentiated path.

More on this later when I'm less tired. Please add your thoughts.

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU DUDE

I haven't heard from you in like a week, this shit is not OK

If I go to the Alley tomorrow and you're not there I'm gonna shit bricks and raze the city.

Who is this guy?

... and click on this auction? http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=120714485632&ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT

More views mean it gets tagged as "hot", and I need all the help I can get this month! Thank you!

Did you see this? It actually made me burst into loud, joyous laughter: http://blogtown.portlandmercury.com/BlogtownPDX/archives/2011/04/19/i-anonymous-dreadlock-smackdown

... here he is: http://kboo.fm/node/27948

http://www.noob.us/humor/george-michael-is-the-new-rick-roll/

These guys, I  should say.

Sometimes, annoying things happen. Cram was talking about his coworker just blowing up at little things, and I suggested that perhaps he could entertain himself by blowing up similarly about other little things... really, really little things. Like the color of a chair.

In Mr. Language's apartment, the paper-thin walls allowed us to enjoy the details of his neighbors' lives, late at night when we were trying to sleep. The lady to the north liked to have intense one-sided arguments for hours, and I used to imagine her having them with her cat.

The guys to the south would stay up into the wee hours, and we heard a low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses and bottles, punctuated by outbursts of laughter. One night, Mr. Language rolled over and said "I like to imagine that they're sitting around a little table with a ping-pong ball on it, discussing the ping-pong ball." After that, every time they started us out of sleep with their laughter, we couldn't help giggling, too.

My friend found a video somewhere. It's called "Anal Massage for Health and Pleasure", and it's from the 80's. It features people from the 80's doing stuff to each other's butts.

Right on the cover, it says that Chester Mainard has over 20 years of experience teaching anal massage, and also that the video contains over two and a half hours of hands-on instruction.

Seriously, I tried to find this video on the internet. It's amazing! I'm going to scan the cover when I get a chance. Holy shit.

I did find this snippet of Chester Mainard talking: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzDcou5il-A

http://www.dangerousminds.net/comments/so_that_makes_you_a_square_in_defence_of_the_hipster/

We are entering an era where "way of life" music genres (genres which stand oppositional to other genres) are rapidly losing their hold over consumers' aesthetic choices. A love of heavy metal does not now preclude a love of gay disco, just as a love of jazz doesn't preclude a love of rock anymore. However, to an older generation to whom these walls still stand, it can seem as though the only explanation for the liking of oppositional genres is "irony", when this is not the case.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pi00ykRg_5c&feature=p

Wait out the intro, it's worth it.