1
Bring and Brag / stuff (pics)
« on: August 07, 2018, 03:40:02 am »
i did these at some point.
News:
Not just a bunch of "Trotskyist, car-hating, Hugo Chavez idolising, newt-fancying hypocrites and bendy bus fetishists."
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3
Apple Talk / So I had a series of intense, logical (for a dream) nightmares last night
« on: April 03, 2017, 08:31:52 pm »
I don't know where we found the TV, but it was so cool in the beginning. We could watch whatever and nobody would know what we saw. My brother found it. He hid it in the treehouse basement, in a secret room that had an exit in an abandoned office space. We put in a fridge and a couch and locks, because it was dangerous, watching what we wanted. We wanted to watch a television show for young adult girls, but the tv could air unregulated channels, too.
Something tipped the bureacrocy off. I don't know what. They kept coming by. My dad knew by that point. Mom I don't think she did. She stayed inside, always. She was good.
Someone wanted us in trouble. They were my enemy. But they told the buracracy a different name for my father, and the bureacrocy didn't know any better, so they came. I was trapped in the room with the tv and the fridge. I had almost no time to lock all the doors and turn the screen off. They nearly found me. I watched through the windows. They took my brother away. I still hadn't watched the tv. They brought my brother back; they had tortured him, but he didn't give away the tv or my secret.
Someone didn't like me, and they knew a secret about me. She knew I could read the sand, and it would tell me things, or I could use it to talk to distant friends. They used my secret to lie about me, to portray me as a traitor and having committed sedition. We had to run away. We barely escaped.
We went to a cafe that had a different name in the deepest hours of the night. It was a clandestine hangout of one of the five. I was so scared. We were all disguised. The concierge attacked my dad. My dad bit his ear off. We had to run. The concierge came with us.
We found a platuea that might be safe from the bureacracy. We had some elephants, to carry our stuff and help protect us. We had left the tv. It wasn't important. The concierge was trying to light a fire around the top to keep it safe until we got there, but he wasn't leaving a space for us to get in through. An elephant shot water at the fire, and the concierge was attacked by a white ape the size of an orangutan, with glowing red eyes. The concierge bit it's ear off.
The sand showed me a vision - I threw my bike into a chasm. I could be found through it.
Many people were following us. We had to run, because an agent was chasing us. We would all be tortured and killed if we were caught. There was a building, and we went inside. We tried to lock the door because he was coming. There were two doors. I went through the one on the right. There was a stream flowing away from me into another door, and I could see through heavy poles into the next room where there were complicated mechanisms. The first door opening caused a heavy thing to come down. It would take some people to lift it. I went through alone, and went down the chute with water. There was a place to jump to. I missed, and fell a long way into deep water. Body pieces floated up around me. I panicked and reset. I made the jump the next time, and it was a safe path but ultimately a dead end.
I reset again. I went through the door on the left. It took six people to lift the mechanism and killed two people. People could not slide past people holding up the mechanism. There was death in the door beyond. I reset. I tried to tell everyone to go through the door on the right. Some people still went through the left door. I told them to come around but the door had locked on them. They said they would take their chances.
We went down the chute. Some people made the jump. Most of us fell into the water. No dead body parts this time. I held my brother tightly. We swam for the surface. It was dark. We fell again, with the water, and landed on a conveyor belt. Around the corner, there were two directions, and the conveyor belt went really fast, so you could not possibly outrun it. Most people went straight. The halls looked like a highschool - huge concrete bricks painted so many times with cheap paint that the texture of the brick was nearly hidden. Some people went past as the coveyor belt to the right turned on. They went down a different path. I told everyone to stay together, stay to the left. Some people followed their loved ones to the right. I didn't know what was down there.
We were going around, could see the exit. We heard a saw. Horrible, blood curdling, loud. The conveyor belt to the right was a supercomputer that entered everyone into a slave pit, and they were dumped into water. Everyone was being killed by the blades hidden in there. We were frantic. We wanted to save our friends. We could not. I wanted to reset, but everyone said there was no time. A very few people were surviving unharmed. One of them was chasing us, the agent. We ran.
We split up. I was with Toff and two other people. I did not know them. We had had to abandon the bikes, they were too slow and unwieldy for the path we were going to take. We were walking in the mud, sewer mud. Toff examined her knuckles; they were infected. We were all afraid for her. She broke a branch off a monkey tree, hoping it was an antiseptic. She rubbed the branch on her knuckles. It seemed to be okay. A witch's dog appeared to us, barking. We were caught. She put us in a cell with my neighbors who were vampires. We were so glad to see each other. The witch came and told me that she was very pleased to have met me, the WARMTH MAGE, who could talk to sand. She would help us.
Then my phone rang and I woke up. The end.
Something tipped the bureacrocy off. I don't know what. They kept coming by. My dad knew by that point. Mom I don't think she did. She stayed inside, always. She was good.
Someone wanted us in trouble. They were my enemy. But they told the buracracy a different name for my father, and the bureacrocy didn't know any better, so they came. I was trapped in the room with the tv and the fridge. I had almost no time to lock all the doors and turn the screen off. They nearly found me. I watched through the windows. They took my brother away. I still hadn't watched the tv. They brought my brother back; they had tortured him, but he didn't give away the tv or my secret.
Someone didn't like me, and they knew a secret about me. She knew I could read the sand, and it would tell me things, or I could use it to talk to distant friends. They used my secret to lie about me, to portray me as a traitor and having committed sedition. We had to run away. We barely escaped.
We went to a cafe that had a different name in the deepest hours of the night. It was a clandestine hangout of one of the five. I was so scared. We were all disguised. The concierge attacked my dad. My dad bit his ear off. We had to run. The concierge came with us.
We found a platuea that might be safe from the bureacracy. We had some elephants, to carry our stuff and help protect us. We had left the tv. It wasn't important. The concierge was trying to light a fire around the top to keep it safe until we got there, but he wasn't leaving a space for us to get in through. An elephant shot water at the fire, and the concierge was attacked by a white ape the size of an orangutan, with glowing red eyes. The concierge bit it's ear off.
The sand showed me a vision - I threw my bike into a chasm. I could be found through it.
Many people were following us. We had to run, because an agent was chasing us. We would all be tortured and killed if we were caught. There was a building, and we went inside. We tried to lock the door because he was coming. There were two doors. I went through the one on the right. There was a stream flowing away from me into another door, and I could see through heavy poles into the next room where there were complicated mechanisms. The first door opening caused a heavy thing to come down. It would take some people to lift it. I went through alone, and went down the chute with water. There was a place to jump to. I missed, and fell a long way into deep water. Body pieces floated up around me. I panicked and reset. I made the jump the next time, and it was a safe path but ultimately a dead end.
I reset again. I went through the door on the left. It took six people to lift the mechanism and killed two people. People could not slide past people holding up the mechanism. There was death in the door beyond. I reset. I tried to tell everyone to go through the door on the right. Some people still went through the left door. I told them to come around but the door had locked on them. They said they would take their chances.
We went down the chute. Some people made the jump. Most of us fell into the water. No dead body parts this time. I held my brother tightly. We swam for the surface. It was dark. We fell again, with the water, and landed on a conveyor belt. Around the corner, there were two directions, and the conveyor belt went really fast, so you could not possibly outrun it. Most people went straight. The halls looked like a highschool - huge concrete bricks painted so many times with cheap paint that the texture of the brick was nearly hidden. Some people went past as the coveyor belt to the right turned on. They went down a different path. I told everyone to stay together, stay to the left. Some people followed their loved ones to the right. I didn't know what was down there.
We were going around, could see the exit. We heard a saw. Horrible, blood curdling, loud. The conveyor belt to the right was a supercomputer that entered everyone into a slave pit, and they were dumped into water. Everyone was being killed by the blades hidden in there. We were frantic. We wanted to save our friends. We could not. I wanted to reset, but everyone said there was no time. A very few people were surviving unharmed. One of them was chasing us, the agent. We ran.
We split up. I was with Toff and two other people. I did not know them. We had had to abandon the bikes, they were too slow and unwieldy for the path we were going to take. We were walking in the mud, sewer mud. Toff examined her knuckles; they were infected. We were all afraid for her. She broke a branch off a monkey tree, hoping it was an antiseptic. She rubbed the branch on her knuckles. It seemed to be okay. A witch's dog appeared to us, barking. We were caught. She put us in a cell with my neighbors who were vampires. We were so glad to see each other. The witch came and told me that she was very pleased to have met me, the WARMTH MAGE, who could talk to sand. She would help us.
Then my phone rang and I woke up. The end.
4
Apple Talk / ATTN COMPUTER PEOPLE
« on: December 11, 2016, 03:20:12 am »
My laptop's hard drive is daed. This is what was in there. Is it possible to not replace it with same and put in this instead? The sizes appear to be the same, but I don't know if my laptop is gonna be like NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE because it isn't made by HP or someshit, and waste all that time and money, if I do.
5
Apple Talk / Sex Work and Consent: A Tumblr Thing Unfolds
« on: September 28, 2016, 10:09:39 pm »
I've been following a satire tumblr, manslator, for a long time now. I think it's kind of funny. Over the last day or two the subject of sex work and sex workers, asexuals, and enthusiastic consent has popped up and I wondered what people here might think of it, because there was this conversation before here, I just don't remember what thread it was in.
The link goes right to where the posts are, but here's some stuff if you don't feel like clicking:
The link goes right to where the posts are, but here's some stuff if you don't feel like clicking:
Quote from: Mod m of Manslator
Quote from: Mod e of ManslatorThis blog, though run by civilians, respects sex workers and their rights (right to control their bodies, right to work in the field of their choosing, right to not be looked down upon or condescended to due to their chosen field, etc.). Sex workers are different than, for example, sex trafficking victims, who did NOT choose to enter the field of sex work and are therefore being coerced and are not consenting.
Transcript of screenshot: “I’m confused about you asking sex workers, given how they are literally coerced into sex in order to get the money they need to buy food/pay bills etc. and therefore are not consenting.”
Everyone is coerced into work by capitalism. Sex work is no worse or better than any other type of labor. Stop disrespecting people’s decisions about what type of labor is best able to support them.
Quote from: anon submission to manslator
on the subject of sex worker, (speaking as an ace sex worker, for what’s it worth) the idea that you can respect the sex worker, but condemn the client is so incredibly toxic.
When you condemn the client, you endanger the sex worker - you endanger our livelihoods by forcing us into work that is (equally coercive and dangerous, and) not nearly as lucrative; you endanger our lives by fostering an environment where clients don’t want to give out the kind of details that will let an SW filter dangerous clients; you foster an environment where it “doesn’t matter” whether a client does their homework to make sure they’re not supporting trafficking, making it more likely that they won’t.
And by promoting the idea that women are incapable of determining whether they are being victimized, you perpetuate a culture in which women’s words cannot be trusted, which, guess what? Perpetuates rape culture.
The primary danger for sex workers stems directly from a cultural perception that sex workers are less; that sex workers are victims, that women are victimizable as sex workers. I mean, do people really not see how painting a vast swathe of the population as uniquely vulnerable to exploitation might make people who want someone to exploit take interest?
(Otherwise, absolutely no complaints about the assessment of enthusiastic consent + asexuality + sex work. It’s spot on)
6
Or Kill Me / Sleeping Pills
« on: April 07, 2016, 08:09:36 am »
Tense. Always tense.
Don't say anything, because it might upset someone, it might offend someone, it might make people you respect view you with scorn, it might hurt someone else.
Don't explain, because it doesn't matter anyway, it won't be listened to, it's just an excuse, it'll be seen to be a lie, it'll be taken out of context, it'll open unhealed wounds, it'll make things harder, it wasn't asked for.
Don't make eye contact, because they'll think you like them, think you hate them, think you're challenging them, think you want to fight, think you want to talk, think you have the energy to deal.
Don't react, because it'll start a fight, give them power, appear you were eavesdropping, be offensive, start a conversation, be shameful, make you look strange.
Don't speak, because nobody cares, nobody asked, it's you ignoring them, you aren't an expert, you don't have the energy, don't have the will, don't feel welcome anyway.
Don't... do anything rash, because you promised, you don't want to, you can't be doing that shit, people will see.
Tense. Ever-present and the normal state, can't even tell anymore. All the "don'ts" are fights against the DOs. It's so very uncomfortable to do, when the default is don't, and it is usually more trouble than it's worth, it seems. Stressful.
But the sleeping pills make it go away. Sometimes. Sometimes if you take enough, you find peace, emptiness, relaxation, a lack of DON'T because there is no DO. No more barely registered thoughts of broken glass and broken skin, suppressed bitterness or anger or violence or terror or sadness, no more allergy symptoms either. But that's just a bonus, really. Side effect of can't breathe is a small price to pay to not guard against yourself, to not even have to.
Don't do it too often, though. You know why.
Don't say anything, because it might upset someone, it might offend someone, it might make people you respect view you with scorn, it might hurt someone else.
Don't explain, because it doesn't matter anyway, it won't be listened to, it's just an excuse, it'll be seen to be a lie, it'll be taken out of context, it'll open unhealed wounds, it'll make things harder, it wasn't asked for.
Don't make eye contact, because they'll think you like them, think you hate them, think you're challenging them, think you want to fight, think you want to talk, think you have the energy to deal.
Don't react, because it'll start a fight, give them power, appear you were eavesdropping, be offensive, start a conversation, be shameful, make you look strange.
Don't speak, because nobody cares, nobody asked, it's you ignoring them, you aren't an expert, you don't have the energy, don't have the will, don't feel welcome anyway.
Don't... do anything rash, because you promised, you don't want to, you can't be doing that shit, people will see.
Tense. Ever-present and the normal state, can't even tell anymore. All the "don'ts" are fights against the DOs. It's so very uncomfortable to do, when the default is don't, and it is usually more trouble than it's worth, it seems. Stressful.
But the sleeping pills make it go away. Sometimes. Sometimes if you take enough, you find peace, emptiness, relaxation, a lack of DON'T because there is no DO. No more barely registered thoughts of broken glass and broken skin, suppressed bitterness or anger or violence or terror or sadness, no more allergy symptoms either. But that's just a bonus, really. Side effect of can't breathe is a small price to pay to not guard against yourself, to not even have to.
Don't do it too often, though. You know why.
7
Apple Talk / Do you live in a bubble?
« on: April 06, 2016, 09:50:13 pm »
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/making-sense/do-you-live-in-a-bubble-a-quiz-2/
So I took this quiz a while ago, saw it on Facebook. This article says this guy, Charles Murray, decided your bubble is related to your socio-economic place in MURRICA. The higher you score, the less out of touch you are with culture, and probably the more blue collar you are. The lower your score, the higher your income bracket and ignorance of standard American culture. Scores are out of 100. I scored 37, which translates to Upper Middle Class. For the record, "upper middle class" does not have a defined income bracket in this quiz at any point, while poverty is defined (and deep poverty further defined), and I have been living in deep poverty for the last 6 years at least.
I find this quiz to be very biased, and worse it draws more lines and creates more sides among the lower economic classes, and is based on what appears to be an elitist's view of stereotypical blue-collar tropes.
Example 1: Have you ever made it through an entire episode of Ellen Degeneres, Dr. Phil, or Wendy Williams? Do you watch any of these regularly?
Example 2: Do you regularly buy domestic mass marketed beer to stock your own fridge? (Coors, Budweiser, Miller, and Busch are those listed).
Example 3: Have you ever lived for at least a year in the United States at a family income that was close to or below the poverty line?
Graduate school doesn't count. Living unemployed with your family after college doesn't count.
Example 4: Did you ever letter in anything that wasn't chess club or the debating team?
See, I just think (and I am fully aware that this is my opinion and nothing more) this is bullshit. It bothers me that I'm being called an elitist rich (from my point of view) snob by some dude who interconnects "culture" with "money". Or something.
What do you all think?
So I took this quiz a while ago, saw it on Facebook. This article says this guy, Charles Murray, decided your bubble is related to your socio-economic place in MURRICA. The higher you score, the less out of touch you are with culture, and probably the more blue collar you are. The lower your score, the higher your income bracket and ignorance of standard American culture. Scores are out of 100. I scored 37, which translates to Upper Middle Class. For the record, "upper middle class" does not have a defined income bracket in this quiz at any point, while poverty is defined (and deep poverty further defined), and I have been living in deep poverty for the last 6 years at least.
I find this quiz to be very biased, and worse it draws more lines and creates more sides among the lower economic classes, and is based on what appears to be an elitist's view of stereotypical blue-collar tropes.
Example 1: Have you ever made it through an entire episode of Ellen Degeneres, Dr. Phil, or Wendy Williams? Do you watch any of these regularly?
Example 2: Do you regularly buy domestic mass marketed beer to stock your own fridge? (Coors, Budweiser, Miller, and Busch are those listed).
Example 3: Have you ever lived for at least a year in the United States at a family income that was close to or below the poverty line?
Graduate school doesn't count. Living unemployed with your family after college doesn't count.
Example 4: Did you ever letter in anything that wasn't chess club or the debating team?
See, I just think (and I am fully aware that this is my opinion and nothing more) this is bullshit. It bothers me that I'm being called an elitist rich (from my point of view) snob by some dude who interconnects "culture" with "money". Or something.
What do you all think?
8
Apple Talk / Deepak Chopra Quote Generator.
« on: March 19, 2016, 09:39:16 pm »
Found this on fb somewhere. very 
http://wisdomofchopra.com/
http://wisdomofchopra.com/
Quote
"The future is inextricably connected to self-righteous photons"
Quote
"The unexplainable meditates on spiritual boundaries"
9
Discordian Recipes / I MAEDED SO MANY THINGS!
« on: March 10, 2016, 06:25:46 pm »
Mostly tea, really. But also preserves. And chocolate banana bread later.
DEATH METAL TEA
3 BLOOD ORANGES
2 PINTS BLACKER THAN THE BLACKEST BLACKBERRIES
SALTED CHOCOLATE CARAMEL SAUCE
CINNAMIN STICKS
1/3 POUND NON SULPHURED PINEAPPLE, THE MOST BRUTAL OF ALL CITRUS FRUITS
AND FINALLY, MADAGASCAR VANILLA BEANS THAT ARE FRESH AND FRAGRAAAAANT
DISSECT THE BLOOD ORANGES
INTO 1/2 IN WIDE WEDGES
THEN PLACE THEM ON SEVERAL BAKING SHEETS
VISCERATE THE VANILLA BEANS
CHOP THEM INTO 1/4 IN PIECES
SPRINKLE OVER THE ORANGES
DRIZZLE THE SALTED CARAMEL SAUCE
OVER THE ORANGES AND VANILLA
LIKE THE TEARS OF ANGRY GODS
LET THAT SHIT SIT OVERNIGHT
IN THE DARK OF THE WORLD
THEY WILL LOSE SOME EXCESS MOISTURE
WHEN THE DAWN COMES
PUT THE SHEETS IN THE OVEN
AT 200 DEGREES(f)
WHEN THE ORANGES ARE SHRIVELLED
LIKE THE HEART OF A BEAST
YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT TO COOL
DO THE SAME THING FOR THE BLACKBERRIES
YOU CAN ALSO SKIP LEAVING THEM OUT OVERNIGHT
BUT IT TAKES ABOUT TEN AND A HALF HOURS
CHOP UP THE PINEAPPLE
INTO 1/4 INCH BITS
PUT EVERYTHING IN THEIR COFFIN
A TIGHTLY SEALED CONTAINER
IT'S TIME TO PREPARE THE TEA
GET OUT YOUR TEA STRAINER
USE THREE CHUNKS OF PINEAPPLE
THREE CHUNKS OF BLACKBERRIES
THREE CHUNKS OF ORANGES
ONE STICK OF CINNAMON
AND, IF YOU LIKE,
5 WHOLE BLACK PEPPERCORNS
DROWN IT ALL IN COFFEEPOT HOT WATER
STEEP FOR FIVE MINUTES
GOOD FOR UP TO 3 USES
HYDRATE YOURSELF
WITH HAAAATRREEEEED
Plum and strawberry preserves
1 pound strawberries
7 plums
1/3 cup honey
a lot of sugar, probably 1 1/2 to 2 cups (I didn't measure)
some cinnamon
Lemon juice, maybe 3 tbsp
Wash and cut up the plums any old way, because fuck it. Get rid of pits. Wash, de-stem, and cut up the strawberries into smaller pieces. Throw them all in a saucepan. Add sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice. Let it sit for an hour, maybe two. Say fuck it again and start cooking them on high heat. Add the honey. Realize the plums are too hard, so reduce to low/mid-low heat. Cook for another while, until they seem softer maybe. Raise heat to high again, and hope for the best. Get the candy thermometer and try to hold it steady while you stir, because your big pot has curry in it and the pan is too shallow to clip the thing to the side. After it has been at a hard boil for a while, and the thermometer doesn't want to go above 200F for a while, take it off the heat and disinfect some canning jars and lids. Damn near burn yourself with the vegetable sprayer, it builds character. Scoop the fruit gunk into your jars. Makes about 32 oz.
Orange blossom tea
5 cups of fresh orange blossom petals
1/8 cup cloves, maybe. I didn't measure.
Black peppercorns? same amount?
1 lb strawberries
MAke sure your orange blossom petals don't have any bugs on them, and are clean. Refrain from punching any babiesfrom the rage that the soggy horror of a mess gives you. Put on a baking sheet, and bake in the oven at 200F, stirring every few minutes, until they are dry and curly. This will not take long. They should be a sort of dark ivory color when they're done, and have reduced down to 1 cup. Do the same with the strawberries, except leave them out overnight and then cook them, stirring every few hours. Add some cloves and black peppercorns. Use a tbsp, maybe 1 1/2 in your tea strainer for one cup of tea, good for 2 or 3 uses. A nice, flowery blend with darker notes. Good with mesquite honey, but I'm pretty sure mesquite honey is good with everything.
DEATH METAL TEA
3 BLOOD ORANGES
2 PINTS BLACKER THAN THE BLACKEST BLACKBERRIES
SALTED CHOCOLATE CARAMEL SAUCE
CINNAMIN STICKS
1/3 POUND NON SULPHURED PINEAPPLE, THE MOST BRUTAL OF ALL CITRUS FRUITS
AND FINALLY, MADAGASCAR VANILLA BEANS THAT ARE FRESH AND FRAGRAAAAANT
DISSECT THE BLOOD ORANGES
INTO 1/2 IN WIDE WEDGES
THEN PLACE THEM ON SEVERAL BAKING SHEETS
VISCERATE THE VANILLA BEANS
CHOP THEM INTO 1/4 IN PIECES
SPRINKLE OVER THE ORANGES
DRIZZLE THE SALTED CARAMEL SAUCE
OVER THE ORANGES AND VANILLA
LIKE THE TEARS OF ANGRY GODS
LET THAT SHIT SIT OVERNIGHT
IN THE DARK OF THE WORLD
THEY WILL LOSE SOME EXCESS MOISTURE
WHEN THE DAWN COMES
PUT THE SHEETS IN THE OVEN
AT 200 DEGREES(f)
WHEN THE ORANGES ARE SHRIVELLED
LIKE THE HEART OF A BEAST
YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT TO COOL
DO THE SAME THING FOR THE BLACKBERRIES
YOU CAN ALSO SKIP LEAVING THEM OUT OVERNIGHT
BUT IT TAKES ABOUT TEN AND A HALF HOURS
CHOP UP THE PINEAPPLE
INTO 1/4 INCH BITS
PUT EVERYTHING IN THEIR COFFIN
A TIGHTLY SEALED CONTAINER
IT'S TIME TO PREPARE THE TEA
GET OUT YOUR TEA STRAINER
USE THREE CHUNKS OF PINEAPPLE
THREE CHUNKS OF BLACKBERRIES
THREE CHUNKS OF ORANGES
ONE STICK OF CINNAMON
AND, IF YOU LIKE,
5 WHOLE BLACK PEPPERCORNS
DROWN IT ALL IN COFFEEPOT HOT WATER
STEEP FOR FIVE MINUTES
GOOD FOR UP TO 3 USES
HYDRATE YOURSELF
WITH HAAAATRREEEEED
Plum and strawberry preserves
1 pound strawberries
7 plums
1/3 cup honey
a lot of sugar, probably 1 1/2 to 2 cups (I didn't measure)
some cinnamon
Lemon juice, maybe 3 tbsp
Wash and cut up the plums any old way, because fuck it. Get rid of pits. Wash, de-stem, and cut up the strawberries into smaller pieces. Throw them all in a saucepan. Add sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice. Let it sit for an hour, maybe two. Say fuck it again and start cooking them on high heat. Add the honey. Realize the plums are too hard, so reduce to low/mid-low heat. Cook for another while, until they seem softer maybe. Raise heat to high again, and hope for the best. Get the candy thermometer and try to hold it steady while you stir, because your big pot has curry in it and the pan is too shallow to clip the thing to the side. After it has been at a hard boil for a while, and the thermometer doesn't want to go above 200F for a while, take it off the heat and disinfect some canning jars and lids. Damn near burn yourself with the vegetable sprayer, it builds character. Scoop the fruit gunk into your jars. Makes about 32 oz.
Orange blossom tea
5 cups of fresh orange blossom petals
1/8 cup cloves, maybe. I didn't measure.
Black peppercorns? same amount?
1 lb strawberries
MAke sure your orange blossom petals don't have any bugs on them, and are clean. Refrain from punching any babiesfrom the rage that the soggy horror of a mess gives you. Put on a baking sheet, and bake in the oven at 200F, stirring every few minutes, until they are dry and curly. This will not take long. They should be a sort of dark ivory color when they're done, and have reduced down to 1 cup. Do the same with the strawberries, except leave them out overnight and then cook them, stirring every few hours. Add some cloves and black peppercorns. Use a tbsp, maybe 1 1/2 in your tea strainer for one cup of tea, good for 2 or 3 uses. A nice, flowery blend with darker notes. Good with mesquite honey, but I'm pretty sure mesquite honey is good with everything.
11
Apple Talk / Dear TGRR, I need a Holy MissionTM
« on: November 05, 2015, 01:39:41 am »
If you are willing to grant me one, anyway.
I am limited by finances alone, having gotten transportation marginally sorted out.
I am limited by finances alone, having gotten transportation marginally sorted out.
12
Apple Talk / Text based survival game
« on: August 28, 2015, 08:16:33 am »
adarkroom.doublespeakgames.com
I've spent the last 6 hours playing this and I can't tear myself away. Have yet to explore all the board, keep getting shot by assholes.
I've spent the last 6 hours playing this and I can't tear myself away. Have yet to explore all the board, keep getting shot by assholes.
13
Aneristic Illusions / So, I heard that the financial strata of Americans is a diamond...
« on: January 07, 2014, 03:38:02 am »
...and I would like to see evidence supporting or, preferrably, destroying this statement, so I can either know something new or shove it down the ignorant's throat. Unfortunately, I don't know where to start searching, and I am wondering if perhaps I can get a link or name to start reading.
The expanded version of what the hell I'm talking about:
So there's this guy who's a friend of a friend of mine. He said that the economical situation in America is like a diamond; there's the 1% at the top, the very rich; there's the middle class, which comprises the most people; and then there's the poor, at the bottom, another 1%. This guy is pretty okay, but every time I listen to him talk for an extended period of time he says something completely ignorant, but I don't have citations on me, so instead of correcting him with data all I can basically say is "Nuh uh!" and it aggravates me to be so ignorant myself.
It's just a hope that someone can point me in the right direction and I'm not expecting anything, I'm just hopeless at researching is all.
The expanded version of what the hell I'm talking about:
So there's this guy who's a friend of a friend of mine. He said that the economical situation in America is like a diamond; there's the 1% at the top, the very rich; there's the middle class, which comprises the most people; and then there's the poor, at the bottom, another 1%. This guy is pretty okay, but every time I listen to him talk for an extended period of time he says something completely ignorant, but I don't have citations on me, so instead of correcting him with data all I can basically say is "Nuh uh!" and it aggravates me to be so ignorant myself.
It's just a hope that someone can point me in the right direction and I'm not expecting anything, I'm just hopeless at researching is all.
14
Apple Talk / MOTHERFUCKING AXE COP MAKES IT TO GODDAMN TELEVISION!
« on: August 04, 2013, 10:05:24 pm »
http://www.hulu.com/watch/513224#i0,p0,d0
You need to have an account, because I guess it has an MA rating, but my god. It's still a masterpiece of what the hell, oh right a child wrote this. AN ENORMOUSLY TALENTED CHILD.
You need to have an account, because I guess it has an MA rating, but my god. It's still a masterpiece of what the hell, oh right a child wrote this. AN ENORMOUSLY TALENTED CHILD.