My wife has taken to calling me Dorian Gray. IÂ’m not too goddam happy about it.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 01:22 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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So, we're living in this apartment building while we save for a house. It's not that bad - it's dirt cheap; it's in a safe, convenient neighborhood; it's got just enough room - we even got a first floor unit!

Well, it's all good until this bitch, evil whore, moved in upstairs. I swear to Christ she straps her refrigerator to a dolly and brings it down the stairs with her every damn morning on her way to work. CLOMPCLOMPCLOMPCLOMP.

'Course, I'm usually up pretty early for work so it's just a mild annoyance. The fiancee, on the other hand, tends bar til oh-dark-thirty and when that bitch starts dragging her Frigidaire or whatever down three flights of stairs at 7am, the old lady about has a psychotic break. She wants to set up a trip wire. Personally, I think that would be funny:

CLOMPCLOMPCLO[trip]WHAM clompflompblompshompaaaaahghgggaa...BANG!

The last bang being that damn side-by-side landing on the gelatinous pool of tissue and bone fragment that was her body. It's really unneccesary, the clomping. No one else clomps. The fiancee said "Well, the only reason we hear her is because she's obviously wearing some goddamn slutty ass, goldfish tank, platform heels. Skank." Never mess with a tired woman. They'll fuck ya' up.

Don't even make me tell you about the time she called me at work because there were landscapers outside our unit at nine in the morning. She was on the verge of committing war crimes.

I thought it was kinda sexy. All that passion. Hey, at least it's not directed at me this time. "Go ahead, baby! Kill 'em, kill 'em all!"

Posted by: shank at 08:55 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Why civilization is crumbling— reason number 78,634:

Â…Today, men are buying themselves bracelets, rings and pendant necklaces with increasing frequency and wearing their bling with a confidence and flair heretofore unseen in the Western world, according to fashion experts and industry observers.
Â…

Â…"These super-masculine guys are saying, 'Jewelry's cool, and I'll show you why because I'll wear it.' So as a result, men are thinking, 'Hey, it's OK for me to wear this.' " Â…

No. No itÂ’s not. I cannot abide a man wearing a shitload of jewelry. You know how men decorate apartments? A couple of cinder blocks and a plank for a couch?

Well, that how they pick jewelry too. I draw the line at a watch. And my weddinÂ’ ring.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 01:24 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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I received an email this morning from a dear friend who believes his house is haunted. HeÂ’s shaken up about the whole affair. I know this man and his wife pretty well. Intelligent people. GuyÂ’s got a physics degree or something of that ilk. HeÂ’s a rational man, and whatÂ’s more, heÂ’s one of the few people I know who are mentally stable.

Anyway, he described some incidents that are certainly extraordinary. I know the house well and itÂ’s not very old and the things he described were intriguing.

The email went to out to a small group of friends and I was surprised to find that some of them now BLAME ME for the haunting. First of all, I don’t know that I believe in hauntings. I’m the rational type. Until it happens to me—then I shriek like a little girl.
more...

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:46 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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I just came into a bootleg Led Zeppelin concert from 1977 in Cleveland. The sound quality is pretty good. A good acoustic set and plenty from Physical Graffiti. ThereÂ’s an especially hot version of Ten Years Gone.

Disc 1 :
The Song Remains the Same
The Rover
Nobody's Fault But Mine
In My Time of Dying
Since I've Been Loving You
No Quarter
Ten Years Gone

Disc 2 :
Battle of Evermore
Going to California
Black Country Woman
Bron Y Aur Stomp
White Summer/Black Mountain Side
Kashmir
Jimmy Page Guitar Solo
Stairway to Heaven
Rock n' Roll
Trampled Under Foot

I fully realize that most people couldnÂ’t give a shit about this because itÂ’s not some breathy thin-bearded boy band or a group of depressed, post modern indy songwriters, but, in the off chance that someone out there has taste, be aware that this thing is making the rounds.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:58 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Licking nipples is a sexual act. Kissing boobies is simply an appreciation of the female form.

Posted by: Jim at 03:33 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Some people simply cannot cook, and I am one of those people. Lord knows that over the years I have tried. I had always figured that any fool can follow a recipe. Hell, thatÂ’s just like following assembly instructions and putting together a bicycle, but over time I learned that that wasnÂ’t really the case.

Recipes had ‘keywords’ that were pertinent to the outcome. Sauté. Sift. Fold. Blanch. Words that held no meaning for me in that context. And even if I did manage to follow a recipe, when it got down to the actual cooking with heat part, I royally fucked it up. I burned shit. Even worse, I’d burn things on the outside and they would be raw on the inside. I couldn’t even grill a steak. It didn’t help that I only wanted to cook masterpieces. I never tried meatloaf or pot roast. Every time I tried to cook it was always some extremely complicated thing with reduction sauces and very expensive ingredients which I summarily ruined. I wanted to cook a spectacular meal or nothing at all. In the end, of course, it was nothing.
more...

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:59 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 Those aren't "keywords." Those are terms used to describe a specific process or technique required to prepare a food product. Lawyers have their language, doctors theirs, and chefs a language all their own. sauté: From a French verb meaning "to jump," sauté means to cook something in hot fat in a pan using a tossing motion. It's commonly misused; Americans tend to think it means "pan fry" which is a different technique entirely. sift: Pass a powdery product thru a sieve for an intended purpose. Sometimes the purpose is to break up clumps, and other times it's to ensure a smooth coating of the powdered product on a finished product (powdered sugar on a cake, for instance). fold: A technique that gently mixes one product with another. blanch: Partially cook a product in hot water or steam.

Posted by: Victor at January 30, 2006 10:28 AM (L3qPK)

2 The old lady and I love to cook. But it never works if we try to cook together. Somebody starts fucking with somebody else's sauce, or steps on the others toes, or says "Why are you doing that?" It usually develops into a bitch-fest; after which we both apologize for being bitches, and she ends up cooking the rest. Goddamn bitch. Never lets me do anydamnthing.

Posted by: shank at January 30, 2006 10:34 AM (+H1yK)

3 Drop the chalupa!

Posted by: Jim at January 30, 2006 12:42 PM (tyQ8y)

4 I cook, I clean, I wash clothes, I earn the dough... Hmmm It's all baby's fault.

Posted by: Oorgo at January 30, 2006 06:55 PM (lM0qs)

5 I cook, I clean, I wash clothes, I earn the dough... Hmmm It's all baby's fault. Bad baby!

Posted by: Oorgo at January 30, 2006 06:58 PM (lM0qs)

6 In all seriousness, I highly recommend you get one or both of the late Laurie Colwin books. Great reads and good recipes sprinkled among the essays with easy to follow instructions. These are among my favorite books.

Posted by: RP at January 31, 2006 11:48 AM (LlPKh)

7 I think you should be congratulated... it's not every day that dough comes out just right. It's a huge step toward chefdome... Next time, remember the salt.

Posted by: Moodie at February 05, 2006 07:35 PM (10FwA)

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Okay, so I've been thinking of trading my car in and getting one of these bad boys. Mmm, yeah baby. Come to pa- oh. Sorry. Sometimes I do that.

Posted by: shank at 02:28 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Hey, hey, hey, it's muthafuckin' Friday! All across America, people are fleeing the workplace as the five o'clock whistle blows. In Miami, they're probably heading out the beachfront for drinks and dinner. In LA, they're trying to kill eachother in rush hour traffic. In Duluth, some lonely farmhand is picking out his ewe for the night. Hey, everyone celebrates in their own little way. Me personally? Went to Blockbuster (Oh yeah baby, we still rent DVD's the old fashioned way around here) and rented "The Aristocrats", "Transporter 2", and "Dark Water". A nice bit of mindless entertainment that will mix well with the American lager, the bottle of zinfandel, or the pinot grigio we got at the store. Mmm-Mmm. See, no matter how bad your week was, you're almost always glad when Friday comes around.

Unless, maybe - you're this poor little bastard... more...

Posted by: shank at 05:50 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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shank being The King of Curious is wondering what ever happened to that lost lonely girl who's heart he broke back in high school. He then invited contributors to submit a profile of what my old classmate's love muffin's life is like now.

I gotta tell ya folks, the truth is stranger than fiction and after a bit of digging there are some N-V-T-S nuts out there. I found shank's long lost love on one of the interweb dating sites. Her profile is of course presented in the extended entry for your viewing pleasure. more...

Posted by: phin at 10:08 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Today is MozartÂ’s 250th birthday. IÂ’m a fan. I even went to the Salzburg Festival once.

And even though a talent like that is extremely rare, I offer you another, of equal greatness. He never became as famous as Mozart, but I consider him to be his equal.

Ladies and gentleman, I give you, Le Pétomane.

For some reason, this line made me laugh out loudÂ…it just seems so out of place.

“Later he opened a biscuit factory in Toulon.”

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:46 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Rob tagged us with the Gang of Four thing.

Four jobs IÂ’ve had in my life
• Marketing Director
• Sales & Marketing Director
• Pizza Delivery Twerp
• Dishwasher

Four movies I can watch over and over
• Blue Velvet
• Reservoir Dogs
• Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure
• The Godfather 1 & 2

Four places I have lived
• The OC
• NYC
• Miami
• Philadelphia

Four TV shows I love to watch
• Seinfeld
• Ali G
• The Sopranos
• Entourage

Four places I have been on vacation
• Oberammergau, Germany
• Tokyo, Japan
• Napa Valley, California
• San Sebastian, Spain

Four of my favorite dishes
• Sicilian Pizza
• Bouillabaisse
• Fois Gras (no searing, please)
• Subs (on really good bread)

Four websites I visit daily
• Imagine life without Google?
• SBD
• I really hate to admit it…Drudge
• Pretty much everybody on the blogroll

Four places I would rather be right now
• Ireland
• Lake Tahoe
• Bordeaux
• Las Vegas

Four bloggers I am tagging

None. Bloggers get all the glory. IÂ’m tagging regular people without blogsÂ…do it in the comments. Go ahead, letÂ’s have some fun.
Tiffani, weÂ’re waiting.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:33 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Remember this?

Okay, Rob gets five points for a recipe way worse than mine. Our own Jim gets five points for possibly the most disgusting recipe on planet earth. The rest werenÂ’t real recipes. HoweverÂ…

Phin managed to make me throw up in mouth and that ought to be worth something. LetÂ’s call it three points.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:03 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I'm a super-curious dude. When I was a kid, the best thing about Christmas was the hunt for the cache of presents. Maybe they were in the walk-in, maybe in the attic; I always found them because I couldn't stand waiting. Even now, when someone says "Hey! I got your Christmas present todaaaay!" I'm like, "Well, you already paid for it, you might as well just let me open it." I just can't stand it.

Delay of gratification is part of the problem to. When I have to eat, I eat. When I have to piss, I piss. Even if it means pissing in the sink or out a window. One time, I was in the bathroom and I pissed out a window. I can't explain it, I just had to go. Well, there were people standing outside; so I guess there was a little incentive there. But anyways, when I need something or my curiosity is piqued, I just have to know.

Having been a military brat, and moved hither and yon across this great nation of ours, I have all these unfinished stories. What ever happend to so-and-so from Woodbridge? Or whoosie-frumps in Miami? Sometimes I'll toss an old pals name into a search engine just to see what pops up.

Well, yesterday I Googled an old acquaintance. She was a girl I knew during sophmore and junior year of highschool. I guess I had a crush on her, but we never had a relationship or anything. I think the closest we ever got was sharing a dance at prom. Oh, and I called her the Christmas after I left, because she'd given me her phone number.

At any rate, I haven't spoken to this person or seen her in...8 years. Upon Googling her name, I was directed to a website run by her employer, and it had a photo. I laughed at how similar she looked, and then started wondering what she was doing these days. From the info on the webpage, I could tell she still lived in the area we went to school in, and she still had her last name, so I assume she wasn't married. Then I saw her contact info; a phone number and an email address.

Now, don't get me wrong here. I'm no stalker, nor do I wish to stir any embers. I think moving just creates such a rift in the narrative, and I'm just so damn curious as to what she's up to these days. I wonder if she still keeps up with any of the kids we hung out with. I wonder if maybe she's gone all ultra-conservative. Or maybe she's a closet wingnut. I'm absolutely dying of curiosty.

Of course, there's nothing I can do about it. I can't send her an email out of the blue; that would be a little weird:

Hey! This is shank from Shermer High School. How ya been? I was just Googling your name the other day and...

Yeah, that doesn't trip any alarms. Anyways, here I am stuck with my curiosity. I considered coming up with a fake story, but what if it backfired? Then I'd really look regoddamndiculous.

So I've decided on a solution. We've got some pretty talented and creative minds that come through this old shanty we call SBD; and I think now is a good opportunity to tap those vessels of untold wealth. For each contributor who submits a profile of what my old classmate's life is like now, I will give five points. Now, when I say 'profile' I mean complete; more than just a few sentances. Go crazy. For the winning profile, I'll award seven or eight points. These can be as long as a short story if you like, or they can be historical, starting at the time I left town up through the current year. Just submit them via email to my link on the right there.

more...

Posted by: shank at 08:01 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I'm a Porsche 911!

You have a classic style, but you're up-to-date with the latest technology. You're ambitious, competitive, and you love to win. Performance, precision, and prestige - you're one of the elite,and you know it.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

Via Bane

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 12:45 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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“Larry, stop pointin' that fuckin' gun at my Dad!”

Â….Nice Guy Eddie
Reservoir Dogs (1992)

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:17 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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As some of you may be able to tell, I'm not one of those people that gets off on finery. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate many fine things (a Monet, a glass of Johnny Walker Blue, a Carrera GT), but I have a low threshold for truly senseless opulence.

My parents love fine dining. I think they always have, because my dad used to say that before he had kids, mom would make him all kinds of gourmet dishes. Since we've all moved out, I've also noticed a change in the cuisine over there - it's much more delicate cuisine than it used to be. At any rate, they've taken to going out and eating at all these fancy local places. Some are good, some are great (one place had this awesome shrimp and grits - fucking stellar), and some...well, some are so horrible they're blogworthy.

more...

Posted by: shank at 06:02 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 How big was that leg? Chat is Fraunch for cat, you know. Hehe.

Posted by: Jim at January 25, 2006 05:35 AM (oqu5j)

2 Believe it or not, I've never actually had that type of experience in a restaurant. I can just imagine the combination of whatever bacteria caused the affair and all that beer...

Posted by: Paul at January 25, 2006 07:35 AM (vbP6L)

3 By the way, I'm all about finery. I do not, however, go in for "fusion" cuisine of any kind. Fusion cuisine is hideous. Hell, at least you wrecked the bathroom.

Posted by: Paul at January 25, 2006 12:41 PM (vbP6L)

4 toilet stories are funny; true ones are absa-fucking-lutely hilarious! Girls would be a lot more fun if they learned that.

Posted by: Victor at January 25, 2006 01:32 PM (L3qPK)

5 Victor, we don't mind hearing about them but most of us ain't gonna write about them, that's for sure! Unless you find a girl that shits herself super sexy!

Posted by: DeAnna at January 25, 2006 02:18 PM (IdVP4)

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Yesterday someone pointed out this story about a man who went missing on a Royal Caribbean cruise. Nothing strange about that really, it seems to happen once a month or so, and if I were an aspiring mobster I couldnÂ’t think of a more cost-effective, low risk method of offing someone than taking them on a cruise and going for a midnight stroll.

But it gets better. ItÂ’s now been pointed out that absinthe, an illegal drink in many countries, was being consumed by everyone involved.

First of all, letÂ’s talk about absinthe, which is all the rage these days. Absinthe is a vile tasting liquor that is illegal in America and many other locals because it contains wormwood, an herb that can cause hallucinations. Back in the day, absinthe was a favorite drink of Vincent Van Gogh, Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allen Poe and countless other artistic types.

"In large amounts it would certainly make people see strange things and behave in a strange manner," said Jad Adams, author of the book, "Hideous Absinthe: A History of the Devil in a Bottle." "It gives people different, unusual ideas which they wouldn't have had on their own accord because of its stimulative effect on the mind."

Not unlike vodka, Jägermeister, or shots of Patron Silver tequila.

“Oscar Wilde, one of many 19th-century artists and writers who enjoyed the drink, thought the floor was covered with flowers while drinking absinthe, Adams said.”

Fair enough, I suppose, but still nothing a good grain alcohol buzz couldnÂ’t conjure at freshman mixer.

Anyway, you can buy absinthe today in England and many other places, but the laws require that they limit the amount of Wormwood thatÂ’s in the stuff, so essentially, itÂ’s so pussified that itÂ’s not really even absinthe anymore. In London bars they limit you to two shots, just in case. I guess they donÂ’t want anybody pulling a Van Gogh or a Tell-Tale Heart episode.

But back to the cruise ship.

“Witnesses say Smith and his bride, Jennifer Hagel Smith, were heavily intoxicated and argued in the ship's bar the night Smith disappeared. Passengers say Smith called his wife names, and she responded by kicking him in the groin hard enough to double him over.”

It gets complicated after that, but the absinthe plays heavily into things.

"They drank the whole bottle," said Victorio Jove, a 25-year-old passenger from Mexico.”

So thereÂ’s the theory. The butler did it in the library with a bottle of shitty booze. I think itÂ’s shite, personally. Shots of yacker-meister could easily provide the same effect as this watered-down version of absinthe only it wouldnÂ’t be mysterious or newsworthy.

But back to the cruise. Today someone points me to this story about the same missing man and the same boat.

“Imagine boarding a pricey, 11-day cruise to sail around the Caribbean and into the Panama Canal only to find a small squadron of criminalists in navy-blue jump suits - "Forensic Lab" emblazoned in yellow on their backs - inching their way across a metal canopy over a stack of lifeboats. Yellow harnesses adorned their crime scene uniforms, to save them from a fall.”

Well, I hope thatÂ’s romantic enough for you. If not, hereÂ’s some more:

“Several balconies above, forensic lighting was beamed down from what had been the Smiths' stateroom in a search for latent blood and other evidence. From multiple balconies above, cruise patrons leaned over railings and took photographs of a vacation bonus that was by no means highlighted by Royal Caribbean.”

This is even better:

“Lee, wearing latex gloves, could be seen spraying a chemical that enhances the presence of bloodstains to the undersides of the stateroom balcony rail.”

I don't know what I'm getting at here, but can you imagine being a passenger on this fucking love boat of death?

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 12:56 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I donÂ’t know, but five points to anyone who can produce an actual recipe (for edible food) more vile than this one.

Ingredients

1 sheep heart
1 sheep stomach
1 sheep's lung
1 sheep liver
1/2 lb fresh suet
1/2 cup oats
3 onions, chopped
2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
3/4 cup stock beef broth

Lungs are illegal in the United States, so you may have to do without that delicious part.

Wash lungs and stomach and remove membranes. Soak in cold saltwater for four hours.

Turn stomach inside out for stuffing purposes.

Cover heart and liver with cold. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Chop heart and coarsely grate liver. Toast oats in a pan, stirring frequently.

Combine all ingredients and mix well. Stuff the mixture into the stomach, about two-thirds full.

Press any air out of stomach and tie well. Put into boiling water to cover. Simmer for 3 hours, uncovered, adding more water as needed to maintain water level. Prick stomach several times with a sharp needle when it begins to swell; this keeps the bag from bursting. Place on a hot platter and serve.

###

Personally, I can’t think of anything more disgusting, but I’m sure someone else will. All that was missing is “garnish with bashed in sheep’s head.”

Decision of the judges (me) are final.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:28 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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Here's the way I figure it. Hot PETA chicks* stage naked protests** against killing animals. If we stop killing animals, they won't get naked any more. Conversely, the more animals we kill, the more chicks there will be protesting in naked fury.

I'm off to get me a fur coat and a Big Mac.

* There's some man ass in there too for the ladies.
**The answer to the lead naked chick's question is "It depends ... are we talking bush babies or bengal tigers?".

Posted by: Jim at 06:21 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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