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Dear beloved friend,

I know that this letter may be a very big surprise to you.Beloved I am drenched with tears while writing this short message to you.

I am Mrs. Gloria Caldwell from London,I am 58 years old, I am deaf and suffering from a long time cancer of the liver. From all indication my condition is really deteriorating, this is because the cancer  stage has reached a critical stage. I was brought up in a motherless  baby's home, and was married to my late husband for twenty years without a  child.My husband and I are true Christians,but quite unfortunately, he died in a fatal motor accident.

Since his death I decided not to re-marry, I sold all my inherited  belongings and deposited the sum of $3.2million dollars in a  bank.Presently, this money is still in their custody, and the managementjust wrote me as the Legitimate beneficiary to come forward to receive  the money after keeping it for so long or rather issue a letter of authorization to somebody to receive it on my behalf since I can not come  over as a result of my illness, or they get it confisticated.

Presently,I'm with my laptop in a hospital where I have been undergoing  treatment.I have since lost my ability to talk and my doctors have told  me that I have only a few months to live. It is my last wish to see that this money is invested in any organization of your choice and distributed each year among the charity organization,the poor and the motherless baby's home where I come from.I want your good humanitarian,to also use this money to fund churches, orphanages and widows around. I must let you know that this was a very  hard decision, but I had to take a bold step towards this issue because I  have no further option. I hope you will help see my last wishes come  true.As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank  where this fund was deposited. I will also issue you a etter of  authority which will prove that you are the new beneficiary of my funds.

Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I stated herein.


Hope to hear from you Soonest.


your's in Christ,
Mrs Gloria caldwell

Alright spags, now we draft a response to this. 

http://www.tampabay.com/news/dead-whale-found-in-tampa-bay/1041472

Humpback whales don't hang out in Florida!

TODAY

4PM

ALL ASIA

CAMBRIDGE

VUDU BEVY W/ GENERAL STUART

OPENING WITH AN ACOUSTIC SESSION

GO GO GO!

 

It was all I ever wanted in a zombie movie and MORE. I order my Principality and their allies to go see this movie, immediately.

http://www.wigglesdogwigs.com/

With my loverly assistant Jen...

Jen helps put out the grid.
Outline...
DEATH POMEGRANATE 9000!!!! I'm fucking proud of my pomegranate, damnit.
Different perspective.
DONE!
From across the street.
Victory Beer!

[UUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

UUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Looks like somethings haven't changed...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVGTZIPljfY

I have an interview tomorrow at 1, but MBTA sees it fitting to make the only train that will get me there before when I need to be at 9:45am. SO, I'll be arriving into the city around 11am which gives me about an hour and a half to burn before I head out to Science Park. What time do you jerks take lunch?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOvbv-LkK6w

SERIOUSLY

WORLD NEEDS WISDOM NOW

ASK ME ANYTHING

[BIG]

Yes, that's right... you heard me. You left coasters can't possibly compete with this level of total absurdity. We've beat you. We've destroyed you. We've completely annihilated your every last bit of sanity and proved that us, The Swamp Yankees of the Sovereign Principality of Kaousuu and Beyond, have the ultimate, incredible, indestructible, incomprehensible beast on our side...

Why what's this?
It's...It's...IT'S...
OH...GOD.

SWEET MERCIFUL FUCK!

NIBBLES WOODAWAY!

THE
BIG
BLUE
BUG



So awesome in it's power, they decorate him for CHRISTMAS:


And summertime fun with Dels Lemonade (which none of you will ever be cool enough to drink, evar.):



And he's going on TOUR, bringing darkness and doughboys TO YOU...

FLY MY PRETTY! FLY!!!!!!

CHARGE!

Because I'm about to put some up on my Etsy. Including the 1960s Jackie-O hats that I have. I will give anyone here on PD a 10% discount as well. Because I like you, but I don't like you enough for 20%.

I propose it's time for another meat-up:



It's getting to that SPOOKY TIME OF YEAR AGAIN.

I'm off to mug some bums for their change.

BBL.

It's no secret that I've been struggling as of late with my job. In addition to the waning economy and the absence of students and professors during the summer, the owners of the 215-year-old building that we're in decided that now was a good time to use grant money to renovate, so it's surrounded by scaffolding and being powerwashed on a daily basis. I'm lucky if I walk with more than $20 a shift. Today (Friday) I made $11, for example. However, a job is a job, and until I have another one, I can't really get rid of the one I got, especially when your state's unemployment rate is the 2nd highest in the nation after Michigan.

And so my week began...

Monday night/Tuesday morning to be exact, I had a dream. Now, I did previously mention last year that I had one in which Dionysus saved my life after I had been dangerously boozing to catastrophic levels upon my parents forgetting it was my birthday because they were too busy buying their new house, my seemly never-ending unemployment in which I wasn't able to collect, and then my dad falling and busting his hip, which could have been the end of him walking all together. He has since healed and is in tip-top shape, but that's beside the point. The Greek God of Partying came and ripped me from the bathtub where I was contemplating drowning myself. A few minutes after we sat on the couch watching Olympic diving I found myself crying hysterically and speaking gibberish to the ex-husband, who was trying to sleep.

Right. Moving on. So a year and a day later, I was plunged into another one of my dreams, which I have to admit, I get frequently, but not on a regular basis, at least once or twice a year, in which I had interaction with the Hellenistic Pantheon.  And this is when a lot of you here will be all "Blah blah cynic boo hiss religion" on me, but cork it, you'll either read this, or you won't, and chances are, if you weren't going to read it already, you stopped 2 paragraphs ago and started on your tl;dr review of my writing below in this thread.

The dream, ah yes, the dream. Well, if you ever wanted to know what Mount Olympus looked like, I'd have to say that it is currently a dim office environment with rows of cubicles. Somewhat apropos for ancient deities pushed to the basement while the current big guns duke it out in the penthouse, if you will.

The minute I get there, I feel welcome, but at the same time, like I shouldn't be there, walking down this row of cubes, gray and bleak. Several interactions took place, but first was Zeus, who seemed jovial (no pun intended) and slightly ADHD, almost like he didn't want to be there or even want to talk to me or anyone else who wanted his attention. A secretary or aide did approach him and he got distracted with some form of paperwork, and I found myself moving on.

It was apparent that this was Olympian row, or at least the half that had the male deities, because next on the list was Poseidon, who was oddly warm in his approach and embraced me, which in my opinion, seems out of character for the sea god, but who are we to judge what is and what isn't characteristic of the gods other than mortal opinion? I remember speaking with Poseidon for a bit before moving on, but the words that were exchanged escape me. In fact, I recollect that I had more interactions, and that I saw more and did more, but it felt almost immediately as the day went on when I woke up that the memories were literally being sucked out of my head, because what I had remembered earlier in the day were gone later on as I continued to dwell on what exactly I saw.

I do remember "out of office" notices for Hera, Artemis, and Athena, though I swear I saw Artemis come in to the room, or rather "feel" than see, like I said, I couldn't really make direct eye contact or look at any supposed deity long enough to get a strong enough sense of what he or she truly look like, I just automatically averted my eyes, and knew who they were.

The most powerful recollection I have is that of Eris, actually, who was sitting on the desk in a cubicle that wasn't hers with a male deity that I recognized as Dionysus, but completely different than what he looked like a year ago. Eris was speaking in a tongue I sure as hell couldn't understand, and probably on purpose, but whatever she was saying was making Dionysus laugh as she polished his fingernails and applied henna very poorly to both her arms and his. Looking back on this I find it rather fitting, but at the time, I was truly confused.

I walked away again, and ran back into Poseidon, who said goodbye to me, which seemed weird, so I turned back to the apparent henna party cube where Eris continued with her fun.

I blatantly remember opening my mouth and going, "You know, that really doesn't look that good, you'd think a goddess could do a better job."

To which she replied with a laugh, and pointed to her head and Dionysus and made them both fiery red heads, like an unnatural Ariel mermaid red. They both laughed, and I joined them, because well, it was just perfectly absurd.

And then Dionysus went, "You need to go now. Bye!"

And I woke up. K

So yeah, that STARTED my week, where did it end?

Tuesday at work we were surrounded by picketers from the local union who were protesting the fact that the contractors working on the building weren't certified, and that because it was a historical building, that they should be working on it and not cheap private companies. I felt bad for the guys, since they were unemployed, and brought them coffee.

So then I go inside and find out that the sous chef walked out because the owner threw his pay at him, so the other server would be needed in the kitchen after we ALL prepped and waited for the head chef, who came in bitchy as all hell that he had to wake up before noon.

Okay fine, I can handle the whole restaurant myself for the most part, and I was doing fairly well when the Canadians came in.

For those that have ever waited tables in the US, you know that Canadians are the bane of your existence. I have yet to have a Canadian table not complain about anything or give me more than 10% while bickering in their funny Canuckistani accents. This one started because we didn't have a kids menu, then she bitched that we should lower our prices because of the economy. (First warning sign: Canadians love getting shit for free or cheaper, like they deserve a discount for setting foot in our country or something.)

So the meal goes on, they bitch about everything, and they leave me 11%. I was thrilled.

So after work we go down to heavy list fighting practice in which my boyfriend has to fight my ex-husband for his first armored fight ever. Because the day couldn't get anymore weird.

Wednesday starts with a similar feeling with the picketers continuing their battle, so I bring them coffee, and get yelled at by one of the building owners about how I shouldn't support them if I still want a place to work and that if the, and I quote "spic in the kitchen comes out here with snacks for them again, that he's going to report him to INS." (Jerry is from Guatamala, but I've seen his green card and drivers license, he's 100% legit.)

I was like, "Um, no. They have a constitutional right to be here, they aren't hurting anything, and if my boss says it's cool to give them a pot of coffee. I will. Also, cool it with the racial slurs, because it's extremely unprofessional, just an FYI." And go back inside to find the sous chef who walked out back in the kitchen working.

The day goes on, I make like no money, and go home.

Thursday I come into work to find a new fandangled fence surrounding the building and parking lot, put in place by the douchebag owners to keep the picketers out. It also keeps customers out, which, you know, could also be a plan, but that's an entirely different story all together.

As I'm setting up the dining room, a bad car accident happens out front in a very weird place to have one. Apparently this yuppie ran a red light and got T-Boned by some college kids coming down the hill who didn't see him (probably because of the FUCKING FENCE AND SCAFFOLDING) in enough time to brake. Now, the damage done to the yuppie's car was relatively minimal, but the driver's side door was bashed in bad enough to not be opened.

Sure enough, here comes RISD/Brown public safety (closest PD) and some Providence PD bike cops to assess the scene. Meanwhile, the two kids who hit the suit were out of their car, the driver was obviously crying and upset, not sure exact what he should do as he talked on the phone. Naturally, they were about to get screwed.

I watched the fire department show up and cut the yuppie out of his car with the jaws of life as the EMT held his neck stable until they could get a brace on it. So that once the door was off the yuppie could naturally STAND ON HIS OWN POWER AND SIT BACK ON THE STRETCHER.

For some reason this made me incredibly angry, because I knew those kids were going to get screwed unless the camera caught the fucker running the red, and even then, money talks in this city, and a couple of college kids don't have any.

So the whole day, I just felt mad. Like wanting to kill everyone who came into the restaurant mad, and considering I had one whole table before my cut, I didn't get too far.

Friday! YAY! You would think that Fridays would be busier, and typically sometimes maybe they are. Maybe. Or not. I had two tables and went home, but not after the power washing around the building decided to breach the 215-year-old window frames and cause slight flooding. In fact, while sitting at the bar waiting for my ride, the bartender and I were taking bets on how long it would be before one of the glass panes just gave and water would just spew in without the construction workers caring (much like what happened in the kitchen a few weeks ago.)

The anger continued and peaked last night when my grandmother angrily called me about the status of my student loans. Hey, if I'm making only a handful of dollars a day, then how the hell can I afford to pay those, let alone my rent. So, as she went on and on and threatened suicide, I snapped and yelled at her, and even told her that if she told my dad that I yelled at her, I wouldn't care, because she wasn't listening to me and was doing nothing but make the matters worse. This rage also resulted in me telling General Stuart to fuck off and hiding in his car to avoid having the cops called on me since I was outside yelling the whole time. It was a powerful anger that seemed almost therapeutic, until I started crying and had a minor asthma attack with chest pains associated with it.

So after almost calming down and wrapping up my cold dinner, I pondered if the bottling up and releasing of that much emotion is really worth it. If it forced Roger to have heart attacks, what is it going to do to me in the long run when I'm already having chest pains and adverse health effects when I'm relatively healthy and half his age? Was I just taught a lesson?

All right, I get it, gods, I need a new job and I need to GTFO...Or you can help me win Powerball. That would be nice too.

Today is Saturday, I have $10 to my name, and I'm supposed to go out with my best friend and then go to some rager party later...in nasty stormy weather. Let's see what the day is going to bring.

We're in charge of cooking spare ribs tonight. They aren't frozen, and it's cool if we eat by 7 or 8, so I have time to braise.

Need seasoning ideas. PLEASE. NOW. THX.

YOU FUCKERS ASKED FOR IT...



http://kaousuu.net/forgreatjustice/principality.jpg <-- Hires

I'M BREAKIN' BOUNDARIES AND EXPANDING MY DOMAIN. YEAH, YOU HEARD ME. THE SOVEREIGN PRINCIPALITY OF KAOUSUU IS FED UP WITH BEING STUCK IN THE CONFINES OF A 45 MILE STRETCH OF I-95 AND HAS GROWN TO ENCOMPASS THE ATTLEBORO AREA UP TO THE WRENTHAM OUTLET MALL IN MASSACHUSETTS AS WELL AS MANSFIELD AND FOXBORO(NOTICE HOW I CAREFULLY AVOIDED FALL RIVER), MYSTIC, NEW LONDON, AND WATERFORD CONNECTICUT, AND THE SUU ANCESTRAL GROUNDS OF THE LONG ISLAND SOUTH SHORE.

FOR THOSE THAT LIVE ALONG THE 495 LOOP IN WHICH I HAVE DEVOURED, BE ADVISED THAT YOUR FUCKING HIGHWAY IS ABOUT TO GET FIXED, AND THAT I AM REMOVING TOLLS ON THE STRETCH OF THE MASSPIKE I'VE TAKEN UNDER MY CONTROL.

THE GROTON SUBMARINE BASE IS TO BE OFFICIALLY RENAMED THE HIMEOBS INSTITUTE FOR HIGHER UNDERWATER EXPLOITATION, AND TAUNTON IS TO BE NOW KNOWN AS TAUN-TAUN.

THAT IS ALL.

Easier for me to post these instead of him.

Here are some videos from a show they did in July. I'm still working on getting some mp3s.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmg-rCzdTEo One More Cup of Coffee, The General on guitar and lead vocals
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHdh1a6RyQc Caleb Meyer, General on banjo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiwfkv5pVMs I'll Fly Away, General on banjo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnY4B1RAcXY Hold What you Got, General on guitar

They have a show this Friday in Wickford Harbor, RI, outside somewhere near Ryan's Market. Starts at 6pm and ends at 8.

I know it's early for this but....

Date: Saturday, October 3, 2009
Time: 2:00pm - 6:00pm
Location: All Asia
Street: 334 Mass Ave
City/Town: Cambridge, MA

Genre: ???????

General Stuart will probably be on Dobro.

Today we're brewing a Belgian witbier based on Hoegaarden, only a little different. I'll have General Stuart give updates, as I'll be at work during most of the boiling.

Here's the base recipe we're using, subbing flaked barley for flaked wheat:

http://quantifier.org/qbrew/hoe.pdf

He's already changing it up while he steeps the grains to make the extract.

Bluegrass, Newgrass, and apparently from what I hear the possibility of Jethro Tull, the Rolling Stones, and more Bob Dylan.

General Stuart will be on banjo, guitar, mandolin, and dobro, ALL AT ONCE. SRSLY.

6pm to 10pm.

Address is 1139 Main St (Rte 138), Hope Valley, RI

It's essentially on the corner of Rte 138 and Rte 3 practically right off of I-95 not far from the University of Rhode Island.

OMFG LIEK IT'S TIME TO GO SEE HALF BLOOD PRINCE AND STUFF AND I CAN'T WAIT CUZ I HAVE TO WAIT LIEK ANOTHER YEAR FOR THE NEW TWILIGHT BUT THATS OK CUZ HARRY POTTER IS OUT THIS WEEK AND YAY AND I'M GOING TO DRESS UP AND STUFF AND WHO WANTS TO COME WIFF ME?

IM TOTILLY A RAVENCLAW, WHAT HOUSE R U?

Yep.

On a ROLL!

Attention all New England Spags! Do you like Bluegrass? You don't? WELL FUCK OFF AND COME ANYWAY!

Pizza and beer = win.

He plays the banjo...and guitar...and mandolin. We're working on getting some tracks online for folks to hear, I can probably get that done next week since we recorded a show this past weekend, I just need to set it all up.

[different]

(I just saw this, even though it's 2 months old...)

http://www.abc6.com/news/rhodeisland/41164627.html

When you hear the word "plantations," what comes to mind? For some people, it's a word that brings up a whole lot of bad memories in Rhode Island's history, and one of the reasons many want the words "Providence Plantations" removed from the states official name.

All this is showing is the ignorance of people in this state and country.

"I'm black and I don't want it to be called a Plantation cause of slaves and stuff."

Providence Plantations was the original name of the mainland colony, and Rhode Island was a different colony, now where Newport/Middletown/Portsmouth is. Fuck, I'm not even a native of this state and I know this. Maybe if people were taught more accurate history instead of the typical American "Slavery and plantations are the really real cause of the Civil War" bullshit, people would have a different opinion.

Seriously, we have an unemployment rate of 11%, and our government is bankrupt, so let's spend money changing the NAME instead of doing something to help our failing State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.

And people wonder why I want to get the fuck out of here. Rhody = 

Richter and I are bad j00s...

Marinate pr0k roast in balsamic vinegar, paprika, and "Hot Shot" which is a spice blend of red and black peppers. 


Wrap roast in bacon, yes, you heard me:


Throw in Dutch oven and bake for a few hours...


Stay tuned...

http://www.amazon.com/MythOS-Ravirn-Book-Kelly-McCullough/dp/044101724X/ref=pd_cp_b_2?pf_rd_p=413864201&pf_rd_s=center-41&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=0441016030&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=1THEX470QN82VH5ANFXC

Number 4 comes out in May! WEEE!!!

Speak up! 

http://www.badassoftheweek.com/justinian.html



Emperor Justinian II of Byzantium wasn't a brilliant military strategist, a capable ruler, a benevolent dictator, or even a fucking half-decent human being.  He was a ruthless, merciless motherfucker who crushed all who opposed him, brutally eliminated his enemies, and let nothing stand in the way of his insane, over-the-top, possibly-misguided mission to stomp the lower intestines of anybody ballsy enough to think they could screw with him for any reason.  His entire existence was dedicated to one incredibly badass mission:  Live for Revenge.

Justinian inherited the throne of the Eastern Roman Empire in 685 at the age of 16, and immediately started more shit than a primadonna NFL wide receiver in his contract year.  During the early years of his reign he negotiated a peace treaty with the Umayyad Caliphate that resulted in the Caliph paying tribute to the mighty Emperor (this pretty much proved to everyone who had the hugest nuts in the land), and his army of crotch-stabbing warriors beat the crap out of some jackass rebels that were causing trouble in Armenia and the Balkan Peninsula.

But even though his armies were doing an excellent job of turning wild hordes of rampaging savages into sirloin chuck ground beef and the ruler of the most powerful nation in the Islamic World was sending him a fat welfare check every month, Justinian II was still pretty much utterly despised by the tightwad dickhead senators of the Byzantine Empire.  First off, they didn't really dig Justinian's economic strategy, which basically involved taxing the ever-loving pants off of the citizenry and then using that money to build incredibly huge buildings and massive statues of himself punching Minotaurs in the face or wrestling fire-breathing three-headed dragons.  On top of that, the populace was also a little pissed that Justinian once tried to have the Pope arrested for disagreeing with him on religious matters.  Now I don't care if you're Catholic or not - pretty much everyone can agree that signing an arrest warrant for the fucking Pope because he doesn't agree with your interpretation of Christianity takes some seriously colossal fucking brass testicles.  Unfortunately, the citizens of ancient Constantinople didn't really have the same appreciation for flagrant displays of testicular fortitude that you and I do, and eventually the Senate convened an emergency session so that they could do that which Roman Senators do best - plot an underhanded coup d'etat and depose the Emperor.  In 693, some fucking jackasses busted into the Imperial throne room and tackled Justinian like an over-enthusiastic police officer taking down a crackhead on Cops.  This group of usurpers, which was comprised mostly of escaped prisoners led by two former high-ranking Byzantine Generals and the goddamned Patriarch of Constantinople, roughed the Emperor up, punched him in the solarplexus a couple times, cut off part of his nose, slit his tongue down the middle, executed all of his closest advisors and exiled him to the shithole town of Cherson.

Well, not only did it fucking suck that Justinian just got humiliated, mutilated, and had his face jacked up by a bunch of convicted felons, but since the Emperor was supposed to be flawless and perfect in every way, his new disfigurement meant that he was pretty much out of the running to ever regain his throne.  But fuck that.  Justinian wasn't going to let something like a botched amateur nosejob stand in the way of his Palpatinian amibition.  His first order of business was to get a custom-made gold plate to cover his fucked-up nose, so he pretty much always looked like a mix between Rip Hamilton and the Phantom of the Opera.  I imagine that this made him look fucking awesome all of the time:


Years passed, but Darth Justinian never forgot what happened to him.  He just became more and more pissed.  Every day, he strapped on a red headband and trained for hours on a heavy bag in an old abandoned gym while awesome pump-up 80s hair band music played in the background and a grizzled old trainer yelled at him to push things to the limit.  Eventually, the false Emperor in Constantinople decided that it was too dangerous to have a ruthless, vengeful bastard like Justinian hanging around being not dead, so he sent some motherfuckers to arrest him and bring him into town for a proper execution.  Justinian figured out what was going on and was like, "fuck that", so he fled Cherson to go live with the Khazars, a badass tribe of Jewish-Turkic nomads known for being fucking hardcore all of the fucking time and for eating (Kosher) meat right off the fucking bone.  In the short time he was there, Justinian's badassitude, nunchuck skills and bench-pressing ability impressed the Khazar tribal leader so much that he offered his own sister to Justinian in marriage.  In 703, Justinian was married to the Khazar princess, a woman named Theodora, and was starting to adapt to life amongst the tough-ass warrior nomads.  It should also be mentioned that they lived in the town of Phangoria, a place so hardcore and insane that the magazine Fangoria was potentially named after it.  Well the false Emperor was still determined to turn Justinian into shark food, so he put a mafia hit out on him.  Luckily for our anti-hero, Theodora found out what was going on and tipped her husband off.  That night, two fucking goons busted into Justinian's bedroom to kill him, but Justinian got the drop on them and fucking choked them both to death with his bare hands.  Once the two thugs were sufficiently asphyxiated, Justinian stole a fishing boat and set out to seek his vengeance.

He soon arrived in the land of the Bulgars, an even more vicious race of lawless, badass warriors.  Justinian made peace with the Bulgar Khan and promised him truckloads of money and hookers in exchange for his help.  The Khan quickly assembled a well-trained, balls-out force of 15,000 bloodthirsty Bulgar cavalrymen ready to fucking kick serious asses.  Together with his new allies, Justinian rode out for the gleaming spires of Constantinople.  His force was too small to penetrate the massive walls of the heavily-fortified city, but like any good diabolical madman hell-bent on the destruction of his enemies, Justinian had a plan.  He knew about an old abandoned aqueduct that ran into the heart of downtown Constantinople, so in the middle of the night he and his men snuck into town through a series of secret passages and immediately started fucking shit up Trojan Horse-style, hacking up motherfuckers, burning shit, and generally just causing more havoc than a punch bowl of Red Bull at a birthday party full of eight year-olds being held in a Fabergé Egg museum.  The next morning, ten years after he had been deposed, Justinian once again took a seat on his blood-soaked throne.

Now the people that had messed with Justinian were fucked.  And by fucked, I mean seriously fucking fucked.  His first order of business was to march the false Emperor through the streets of Constantinople while a mob of angry citizens hurled rocks and rotten food at him, and then Justinian personally executed him in the public square by stabbing his head off with his boner.  Then he set out looking for the traitorous Generals that had used his face for a pincushion ten years ago.  In the time since Justinian was deposed, the two jackass traitor usurpers had themselves been overthrown and exiled, but the Emperor had his men travel to the farthest reaches of the Earth, find those bastards and bring them back to Constantinople.  Once he had them firmly in his kung fu grip, Justinian slashed their noses and tongues just like they had done to him, had them bound and trussed, and spent the next two weeks using these guys for footstools while he sat on his throne.  When he got bored of resting his feet on the backs of his enemies, he had them publicly executed for treason.  Justinian also found the Patriarch that was responsible for his ordeal, stripped him of his rank, and put out his eyes with a really sharp pencil.  Then he burned the town of Cherson to the ground, because it fucking sucked being exiled there for like eight years.

Well unfortunately Justinian spent so much time exacting cruel retribution on everyone who had ever fucked with him that he kind of lost track of what was going on in the Empire.  Towns soon revolted against him, foreign invasions threatened the borders, and he was eventually captured and executed by motherfuckers.  His severed head was placed on display outside the city of Ravenna, which is actually kind of awesome when you think about it.

Justinian II was a bad motherfucker.  He wasn't the kind of guy that poets wrote epic works of literary genius about, or that history books remember fondly, but he was a seriously hardcore motherfucker who put vengeance first and everything else second.  In my opinion, you kind of have to respect a guy who would "go the extra mile" and let his entire Empire collapse around him just to ensure that no man escaped his bloody retribution.

Alright...admit it. You all are just as fucking lazy as I am when it comes to dots and notches too, aren't you? AREN'T YOU?!

I swear, if this vest didn't have to be so tailored, I wouldn't care. But noooo, it has darts and welts and shit I gotta line up. At least the lining is the same cut as the shell, I find that Simplicity (gag) is better about that than McCall's at least. Ugh, commercial patterns...



However, since the fabric is so thick, I'm cheating and not using interfacing. 

I has a special bead request. (another one...)



Can you make me a couple of accent beads to put next to the sewing machine? That's on bias tape right now, but the final necklace will be black velvet ribbon 3/5in wide. I may be able to barter some natural beads I just picked up this weekend. I got a shitload of freshwater pearls!

Step 1: Find quick mead recipe online...

Gyrth's Quick or "Short" Mead
Ingredients
2 quarts honey
5 gal water
2 cups strong tea
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2 teaspoons cinnamon
3-5 lemons
Mead yeast
   
A plastic sieve
wooden spoon
big pot
5 gallon jug or carboy
thermometer
all yours and everyone else's used coke or beer bottles

What follows is a step by step explanation from Duke Sir Gyrth Oldcastle of Ravenspur on exactly how he makes mead:

First, boil water. I make two batches at a time with a three gallon pot. Add honey on a one part honey to nine parts water basis. (Honey weighs 12 lb. to the gallon.) I use a quart per 2 1/2 gallon batch. Stir it about to dissolve the honey in the water. 7he honey will sink to the bottom of the pot and burn unless stirred at first. When the mixture is bubbling happily, a whitish scum will riser to the surface. Spoon it away.

Scum removal is a topic of controversy among brewers. Some maintain that complete removal is the only way to go,- others like myself skim until there's only a very little left. Suit yourself.

Remove from heat and add one cup of very strong tea (2 cups per 5 gallons) (From herein on I assume that the measurements are for 5 gallons of mead)), 1 teaspoon of ginger, 1 teaspoon of nutmeg, and 2 teaspoons of cinnamon. Then take 3-5 lemons, Slice them thin, and throw them in. Let the lemons steep in the must (must is what you call incipient mead) for 30 minutes; then remove the slices. The tea and lemon move the pH of the must towards one comfortable for the yeast.

Let the whole caboodle cool to about 80-85 degrees F. Then introduce your yeast to it, cap it with an airlock, and stand back. Afier 5 days taste it. If too sweet, let it continue; if too alcoholic (unlikely) add more boiled honey and water. Keep tasting daily until sweetness and alcohol balance each other out. Syphon it off into bottles and refrigerate. If not refrigerated, it will get progressively less sweet and slide irrevocably into undrinkability. Let stand 2-5 weeks. Drink and enjoy. it ties up refrigerator space, but tends to be worth it.

NOTE - When refrigerated the mead tends to settle, and at this point I find it advantageous to siphon again into clean bottles, seal tightly, and re-refrigcrate. It makes for a sweeter, more sparkling mead.

Step 2: Follow Directions, breaking into 4 parts since our pot wasn't big enough.

Step 3: Ferment as instructed. (Richter has pics.)

Step 4: Rack into bottles and refridgerate as instructed.

Step 5: Take some to New Years for a tasting.

Step 6: Let age moar in fridge.

Step 7. ?????

Step 8: PROFIT!

Look at how fucking clear this is even in a camera phone pic!



It has a spicy gingery taste (we used fresh ginger) and a smooth, dry finish with a light sparkle, but no heavy carbonation. It's PERFECT if you just want a refreshing, quick brew.

No, this isn't even CLOSE to Chicken Marsala, in fact, I just made it up tonight as an excuse to make some shelf space.

What you will need:

Huge fucking boneless chicken boobs
Olive oil
Minced garlic
Chopped onion (I used a fresh white onion)
Canned mushrooms (Look, don't lecture me on canned goods. I wanted to get rid of them. Next time: baby portabellas.)

And this stuff (oregano, Montreal Chicken Grill Mate, Black Pepper, and Sriracha):



Throw chicken and everything else into a bowl, rub, coat, slather, etc. Then place the chicken onto a broiler pan, and top with the mushroom/onion/garlic mixture, add more oil to the pan. Bake at 350 until done (about a half hour if the chicken is full defrosted)

They should look like this:



But wait...you need your gravy!

Throw some flour, chicken broth, and um, some more Sriracha into that pan with the fond and mix, toss it back into the oven for a couple.



Let's compliment the spicy hearty chicken with a romaine salad and cool ranch dressing...Serve with a delicious oolong tea and light reading...

Just some bulletins I posted. I normally don't even do it, but my breaking point was hit...

To the Barack Obama haters...

Shut the fuck up. I hated your fucking Republican dipshit presidents and didn't post slander all over a SOCIAL NETWORKING SITE to get attention, so knock it off. Most of us don't care.


If John McCain got elected, I wouldn't be griping here on fucking MySpace, in fact, I wouldn't be griping much at all, because I'd have to accept the status quo as a born and raised citizen of the United States and deal, because where else am I going to go? I don't have money or resources to leave the country, and I can't name too many other places where I would enjoy living, so oh well.


...I bet ya'll can't wait to get Ann Coulter's nasty man-jaw unwired, huh? Christ.


This is America, the people chose the president as they do every 4 years, now you just need to wait another turn.



True fact: Ang used to be a registered Republican who listened to and enjoyed Glenn Beck. What happened? She was hit by REALITY and the difficulty of getting a job and working and taxes and realized she was getting screwed.


Shit, I need to record this and make a podcast. Stay tuned...

And these fucking ads on Myspace...

GODDAMN!

YOU CANNOT SAFELY LOSE 25 POUNDS IN FUCKING 2 WEEKS! TRUST ME! I HAVE TRIED!

No fucking acai berry shit ordered on the internet for a scam free sample is going to make my ass get smaller. Only my diet and exercise and green tea, assholes. Fuck you Myspace for selling yourselves out to gimmicks like this. Girls are going to get themselves sick or worse if they try this stuff.


Colon Cleanse?

FUCK YOUR COLON CLEANSE!

Eat some fucking 5 alarm chili. There's your fucking colon cleanse.
GODDAMN!



The Reverend Kaousuu has spoken!

Sriracha in the pasta water?!

Buy package of brownies.

Follow recipe except substitute booze for water. (I used Di Sarrono.)



I was thinking of using Sambuca, maybe next time.

I found this excerpt and couldn't resist posting it.

This is written by Procopius, who wasn't exactly her greatest fan.

"Never was a woman so completely abandoned to pleasure. Many times Theodora
[before her "gentrification"] would banquet with ten young men who had a passion
for fornication...after exhausting them she would go to their attendants (by now
more than thirty) and copulate with them as well in an futile effort to satisfy her
unquenchable lust...Although she made ample use of the three apertures Nature
gave her body, she complained her nipples needed openings to attempt intercourse
there as well...In the theater she would lie naked and spread herself out, having
trained hungry geese to pick off grain sprinkled by slaves over her private parts..."

THOSE CURTAINS IN YOUR ROOM MAKE IT SO FUCKING DARK IT SCARES THE CRAP OUT OF ME! WTF ARE YOU SOME KIND OF VAMPIRE?! SWEET JESUS GODDAMN!

KITCHEN IS LIGHT
SEWING ROOM IS LIGHT
BATHROOM IS LIGHT
RICHTER ROOM IS PITCH BLACK



Cats like it though. Mishu went in there and I can't see her. So Spawncat is very happy.

Last week it was just chocolate pudding...this week it's pistachio with extra cinnamon and sugar dusted in the pan for the crust. 

This is fucking AWESOME. I'm bringing a loaf with me to SMF this weekend. (And starters, hehehe.)

Oh right, if you live in the area and you want a starter, let me know, I just threw mine in the freezer since it's keeps. So I have 7 starters in there. PLEASE TO COME TAKE ONE.

This is something you actual sip instead of slam in the morning, and actually I would recommend more as a social beverage than a caffeine jolt. This is an actual period (Ottoman) recipe that's still very popular today in Mediterranean cultures, it's just a bitch to brew.

I remember it because I got to have some this past weekend at the SCA event. 

This is seriously the easiest preparation recipe I can find online, some of them are much more involved. Also, it's traditional to bring it to a frothy boil 4 times, not just 2.

Turkish coffee is famed for the way it is made. It is prepared in an ibrik, a small coffee pot that is heated. Sugar is added during the brewing process, not after, so the need for a serving spoon is eliminated. Cream or milk is never added to Turkish coffee, and sugar is optional. It is always served in demitasse cups.

Ingredients:

    * 1 cup water
    * 1 tablespoon of extra finely ground coffee (powder consistency)
    * 1/8 teaspoon ground cardamom, or 1 cardamom pod
    * sugar (optional)

Preparation:
Bring water and sugar to a boil in ibrik. If you do not have an ibrik, a small saucepan will work.

Remove from heat and add coffee and cardamom.

Return saucepan to heat and allow to come to a boil. Remove from heat when coffee foams.

Again, return to heat, allowing to foam and remove from heat.

Pour into cup, and allow to sit for a few minutes for the grounds to settle to the bottom of the cup.Cardamom pod may be served in cup for added flavor.

Turkish Coffee Tips

    * Turkish coffee must always be served with foam on top.
    * If you can't find finely ground Arabic coffee, you can purchase a bag of coffee at any coffeehouse and ask them to grind it for Turkish coffee. You need to have a powder-like consistency.
    * Do not stir after pouring into cups; the foam will collapse.
    * Always use cold water.



It should pretty much look like sludge, but if you really like coffee, it's FUCKING AWESOME.

...someone had to do it. 


And for the record, I totally knew about Bonfire Night before V for Vendetta.   

This thread will be the home of my NaNoWriMo 2008 project: It's All Geek to Me: Ten Years of Being White and Nerdy

Let's face it, a lot of us supergeeks who wear costumes and attend conventions take a lot of slack. But what is it REALLY like to be on the other side? This is a first hand account starting in 1998 and Suu's junior year in high school, and how her life fell into a downward spiral of nerdiness so extreme she has yet to escape.

Richter's first dinner as a full resident!

Nothing here is a recipe that you haven't seen before, just insane pictures of epic stovage and frying.

Chefs of the evening:

Suu: Grilled cheese and tomato
Richter: Falafel
Mr. Suu: Tostones (plantains) (see special thread for those.)





Rin showed up to help (or rather try to lick my spatula):



Grilled cheese, from lightest to darkest; Mr. Suu, Richter, and Suu. (I told you I was the fucking MASTER.):



Voila, a wholesome cross-cultural meal!

Green or yellow...CHOOSE WISELY.

(my counter is gross, I know. Whatever the fuck it's made out of takes stains in seconds and then weeks to scrub it out.)

Fact is, they're different. Same fruit, completely different flavor, and for those that haven't actually had traditionally prepared plantains, they're actually very easy to make.

The unripened plantain is used to make the flattened salty starchy dish known as tostones. Which is very popular in the Dominican Republic and has it's place in Puerto Rican cooking as well. We'll be making this later on this evening.

When the plantain ripens, it turns yellow like a banana and the starch turns into sugar, which gives the plantain a flavor that is a bit more mellow than a traditional banana, and the bite is more firm, so it's not as mooshy and doesn't get bruised as easily.

Plátanos, or sweet yellow plantains, is the easiest of the two dishes. It's a very popular breakfast and snack food, especially in Puerto Rico.

Peel and slice your yellow plantain in an oblong fashion. Taste a raw piece. if it's TOO sweet, they may be a bit over ripe so it's important to make sure they don't get mooshy and gross in the frying process.

Throw them bitches in a small pan with oil that's pretty much ready to go on the stove.

Get them to a nice golden color and remove from the oil, add more plantains and continue.

You can blot them if you want to remove excess oil, but if you do it right they shouldn't be slimy. (I apparently don't do it right, so Mr. Suu takes control.)

Enjoy your plátanos with toast, bacon, and a cup of Cafe Bustelo coffee!

Stay tuned tonight for Tostones!

Suggestions, plz. Mr. Suu bought the wrong cut of meat, and I'm not a fan of pot roast in the traditional sense, so I'm wondering if I can pull off a broil with this.

AND NO HATING ON LONDON BROIL! 

Actually, can I cube this and make kebobs?

It sounds cooler than it really is. 

Pasta di Sabbia is literally translated to Sandy Pasta.

What you need (The basics)

Medium Shell Pasta (har, it can be anything, but I like shells for this.)
Vegetable or Olive Oil
Italian-style Breadcrumbs

What I add usually:
Oregano
Salt
Black Pepper
Minced Onion
Chopped Garlic
Lemon Juice


Combine everything in a bowl. Serve.

No really, that's it.

I prepare the sauce on the side, which is obviously everything BUT the pasta, in whatever ratio I want. Now, I like mine thick and "sandy", but you may like it more oily...whatever. There is no right or wrong way to do this. once everything is ready just mix the sand into the shells until the pasta is evenly coated, and you're done.



That's it. I really like melting mozzarella into it, but we don't have any.

This started as a sidedish that my gramma would make, and my mom picked up. It's very rarely served as a main course, that is until you have a shitload of pasta in the house and no red sauce. It's also obviously not healthy.

Enjoy! I can only vouch for the Doughboys since clams make me sick.


RHODE ISLAND CLAM CAKES   

2 eggs
1/2 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. fresh chives or parsley, chopped
1/4 tsp. onion powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
1 tbsp. sugar
1/2 c. milk
1 small can minced clams
1/2 c. clam broth or liquid
2 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder

Drain clams well, reserving 1/2 cup of clam broth liquid. Combine all ingredients. Drop by tablespoonfuls into medium hot oil in a deep fryer or heavy skillet.

Oil that is too hot or cakes which are too large will cause burning or uncooked centers. Adjust temperature up or down slightly to compensate. A good starting temperature is 360 degrees.

The clam cakes will float; turn them over gently as they rise to fully cook both sides. Do not overload the cooker, as this will reduce heat too much. Fry only a few at a time.

Drain on paper towels. Serve with tartar sauce or Portuguese hot sauce, or just garnish with slices of lemon and a few sprigs of fresh parsley or kale. These are best while still warm, but can be served at room temperature as well.

These are an old New England favorite and have been served at Cape Cod clam shacks and Rhode Island sea-side diners for generations.

----

DOUGHBOYS

1 1/2 c. flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. oil
1 tbsp. sugar
1 pkg. yeast
1 1/2 c. water


Mix and roll into a ball. Let it rise for 45 minutes. Roll bread 1/8 inch thick - 2 1/2 inches wide. 5 cups oil in pan. When oil is hot stretch dough and add to oil for 1 minute. Put in bag of sugar and shake.

----

RI-Style CLAM CHOWDER

  1  quart chopped, shucked hard-shell clams, undrained (2 1/4 pounds)
1/2  pound  salt pork, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
4  medium onions, thinly sliced
4  large potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes (3 pounds)
6  cups  water
1  (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
1  teaspoon  salt
1  teaspoon  freshly ground pepper
2  cups  milk
2  tablespoons  unsalted butter
1/2  cup  shredded fresh basil
Whipping cream


Drain clams, reserving liquid; set clams aside.

Cook salt pork in a Dutch oven over medium heat 5 minutes or until crisp. Remove salt pork, reserving 2 tablespoons drippings in pan. Set salt pork aside. Add onion, and saute 5 minutes or until tender. Add clam liquid, potatoes, and 6 cups water; bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat, and simmer, uncovered, 12 to 15 minutes or until potatoes are almost tender. Add tomatoes and clams; simmer, stirring occasionally, 20 minutes. Stir in salt and pepper.

Heat milk and butter until almost boiling; stir mixture into chowder. Stir in basil. Spoon 1 tablespoon whipping cream into each bowl; ladle chowder over whipping cream. Sprinkle with reserved salt pork. Serve with crackers.