This should basically be self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should basically be self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should basically be self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

Happy whatever.

(from fiction is lying).

This should basically be self-explanatory:

Happy whatever.

(from fiction is lying).

We teamed up to make a video showing how to make this cheese pastry thing. I shot and edited it, but my girl gets all the credit for it being great.

Here is her page about it and the recipe and all that. Blah blah good Thanksgiving etc.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should basically be self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should basically be self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

This should be basically self-explanatory.

(from fiction is lying).

Right, so I think it’s important to note that no other candidate talks about political and government reform. Meanwhile, this one guy is tired of the same old shit. From here:

Barack may be inspiring, and we may like his ideas, but he hasn’t been in Washington long enough. He hasn’t been stewed and seasoned long enough. We haven’t boiled all the hope out of him.

There’s a lot of connections being made here. It’s seeming less like impractical idealism and more like urgent reality by the day.

(from fiction is lying).

Well, it finally happened. I’ve been waiting for this since I became lazy and stupid enough to order pizza online seven or eight years ago:

What’s next? When will Pizza Hut have one live? When will Papa John’s go back to making the awesome pizza they made in what is soon becoming the distant past? When will the first advertisements outside of the normal advertisements come? When will it start having real-time to-the-minute predictions?

Which is more amazing: the fact that I know the pizza is being put into a box right this second, or the fact that I can talk about it online, with an image, and have forgotten about it by the time the pizza arrives?

(from fiction is lying).

The domain oink.cd is now back in the hands of its owner (it had been hijacked earlier this week by the super-riaa and vandalized), and while the tracker is gone, something interesting is in its place.

See for yourself.

What’s going on here? The oink site now links to a google search most likely intended to help you find this page, which links to a huge variety of torrent sites. I’m ok with the terminology “hydra” when applied to torrents.

He even changed the secret shady-as-hell note page, which made the ominous-yet-vaguely written propaganda threat page seem fake. Before it was changed, it was a note from the super-riaa (IFPI + BPI) to the police saying thanks for the help, and had the exact text for the threatening front page in its entirety. How official does that sound? Hopefully I won’t be picked up for plagiarizing this text, which was on the front page after being taken from here:

Pedro,

Many thanks for your assistance with this. Please find attached two logos for IFPI & BPI together with text to be displayed on a new homepage on the ‘Oink’ website. Can the logos be added to the page:

This site has been closed as a result of a criminal investigation by IFPI, BPI, Cleveland Police and the Fiscal Investigation Unit of the Dutch Police (FIOD ECD) into suspected illegal music distribution.

A criminal investigation continues into the identities and activities of the site’s users

Many thanks

Keith

The site was hijacked, literally. This organization had no authority to access or use the domain. Essentially, they pulled exactly the same trick that hacker kids do to sites they vandalize. Hijacking website is generally considered illegal.

This story just gets more weird and twisted as the days pass, but it seems like more sources are becoming respectable in reference to the whole mess.

Here is the best waffle recipe ever (yes, metric; fuck off):

• 50g Egg Yolks
• 15g Sucrose
• 1g Sea Salt
• ½ Vanilla Bean
• 125g Sifted Cake Flour
• 2.5g Baking Powder
• 50g Whole Milk
• 200g Heavy Cream
• 50g Butter (82% fat)
• 10g Dark Rum
• 1 pinch Cream of Tartar
• 45g Egg Whites

Mix wet crap and dry crap together, let it sit for a half hour, then cook in an iron or whatever. Best waffles ever. Seriously.

(from fiction is lying).

this generic kroger brand gummi worm has a face, and is smiling.

dr. brown's brand cel-ray naturally flavored celery soda (with other natural flavors) is fucking confusing.

it's soda that tastes like liquid celery.

the idea i guess is that it goes with things, particularly pastrami. i think it would be pretty nice with buffalo wings if it was a little more in the direction of pretty nice. i can't imagine ways to make it better (my ways involve sugar which has an approximate 8% chance of working), so i'm just finishing it and glad at the knowledge of it. it has a significant amount of high-fuck corn syrup in it, yet doesn't really taste sweet at all.

since 1869.

i like mousse.

i love mousse.

punchline:

You have a keen sense of humor and love a good time.
8 12 26 38 42. 12

epic applause and accord in tribute to a correct and sweet enigma.

i'm out of chlor trimeton.

anybody that doesn't like soda is a fucking commie bastard.

two fortunes in one cookie:

• You will discover the truth in time.
• An outstanding opportunity will soon present itself to you.

not suspicious at all.

confession: i used my buy one get one free triple stacker coupon at burger king today.

fuck i am fat.

mcdonald's is stupid. all of their food is terrible. this sandwich will be stupid and terrible.

i bet the assholes that came up with this tried to get a chick-fil-a franchise instead of mcdonald's and were rejected or something.

it's going to taste like someone made a chick-fil-a sandwich badly, and then stuck a bunch of shitty mcdonald's fries in it. that's what it will taste like.

yesterday was awesome.

we went to the fickle pickle, which is a local hamburger restaurant that specializes in odd things that are really fucking good. we sat outside and ate.

as if just plain having fried pickles wasn't enough, the special was a damn cheese plate (bleu cheese with peanut brittle, green tomato with goat cheese sandwich-type things, pimento cheese with celery, brie with peach preserves and sesame crackers), all which went together way too well and were much better than even the highest expectations.

on top of those insane appetizers...the fucking hamburger. oh my god. fucking thing was at minimum a half pound cooked to order, with actual special sauce. good fries with it (and word on the street was her lettuce wedge was good somehow) and i left in pain.

then we got beers (local red brick summer wheat) and did stuff.

i'm eating a peri-peri marinated grill chicken sandwich. you wish you had this sandwich. at this moment, it is inarguably true that my life is better than yours.

i woke up. she was fiending for hamburgers, and had this place in mind. i said, "hey why don't we go buy meat and liquor instead" and thus our day was born.

we bought meat and beers and brought them back and grilled hamburgers and hot dogs in our little communal grill here. i really like living here. fucking delicious hamburgers. it was such a good time, and it's good times like that really bring out how much we like each other in the gayest way. we grill like champions of charcoal. our expertise of self-fat meat frying is unmatched.

and fuck can i drink.

hey, it's 40oz. friday. and for real this time (olde english 800+proper pabst).

p.s. SLAYER

last night we went to chef francois's (super fancy) house as guests for some insanely good food. upon arrival we were presented with beer and wine and even an excellent cigar (joya de nicaragua), which was double nice because it'd been so long since i'd had one proper. we sat on their screened outdoor patio-like room literally on the side of a forested hill and i couldn't help but watch squirrels flop from tree to tree. they said they didn't have hors d'oeuvres, but it was already so pleasant that i wasn't able to be adequately surprised that they'd think we'd expect some.

the first course was fois gras with a chutney and brioche. it was crazy good, and i was entertained by their being surprised that i finished it. it was a subtle but perfect mix of flavors and textures and we were already amazed.

by about the second course, his wife (the psychologist) had already worked up a little mini-diagnosis of me based on how i kept silently rearranging the silverware and place setting to be symmetrical. as she predicted things, we confirmed and the obvious surfaced with a not-so-obvious but really useful explanation of some of what the hell is going on in my head. she even recommended a couple supplements that i can get and should see actual results from quickly. hey, she's a doctor.

the second course was peppered scallops on a bed of leeks in a cream sauce. again, it was amazing. meanwhile a torrent of wines were being poured and i was basically applauded for my ability to drink as much as the chef. i was only drinking what he was pouring, and i was certainly in no hurry, but i guess it appeared to be a lot to him in that he didn't expect an american to be able to drink wine that way.

we had an intermission back in the screened outdoor room and by then were in a wine-fueled flurry of conversation topics focusing mostly on food, psychology, corporate customer service, and film. i was doing well; not necessarily on (wouldn't have been appropriate), but certainly not down.

the last course was a duck confit on a salad with balsamic vinaigrette that was just unbelievable. we knew he was an excellent chef, but this was above and beyond our expectations. i don't even like duck that much, and it was all i could do to not gush. i even ate the goddamn skin and everything, right off the bone (well, it fell off but yeah).

the planned final course didn't happen. francois, in a way that is very francois, lost the cheese course. literally.

it was an insightful night, and i learned a lot about the french mindset that's always held my interest, as well as a lot of psychological details i previously hadn't come across, discovered, or even considered. we drove away agreeing without hesitation that it was without contest the best food we'd had since we visited rice stix the week it closed. it was also the best food we've had in a private residence in years.

i certainly hope we're invited over again, as it was easily one of the best nights i've had since moving.

there's a metal bowl on the counter. it is filled with chocolate that has hardened. in the chocolate is a wooden spoon. i broke the spoon out, creating a chocolate mace-weapon thing, and have been biting the chocolate off it.

i have an interview tuesday. i'm obviously excited, but i admit to being a little nervous at the fact that the dude is still in his office at 9 on a friday night.

hey, it's 40oz. friday.

also, it might just be 40oz. april (as suggested by erica) if everything goes right. i don't know though; cheap beer's been giving me stupid gas lately, or at least the cheap beer combined with whatever god-awful food i eat with it.

my ankle is fucked up again. i can walk and get around, but it's so constantly painful that i don't want to do anything. every time it hurts again i feel ever more paranoid that it will become (or already is) some permanent problem if it's not treated now.

we went to one of the little varsity extension locations and had chili cheese dogs and a chili cheeseburger. it's obscenely expensive, and basically the food you can get every two hundred feet in chicago, but it's certainly good. i hate to have had to go to one of the miniature varsity places before the real proper one downtown, but it was a chili dog emergency.

i'm feeling a severe malaise. not sure if the allergy shock triggered it. my super huge (but in a game so pointless) life goal has now been finished for a week (and yes, i'm going to make an entry about it), and i haven't really done anything. i've applied for a few jobs, and we had visitors, and i've been outside and all that, but i still feel a life-wide sense of absolute waste. it's the usual brand of quarter-life crisis shit, but much more significant than any instance since at least before we moved. i'm a perpetual loser, and i don't know how to stop being a perpetual loser. it's as hard as figuring that out. still.

all these jobs want examples of previous work. i need a new front door. and as always, it feels immediately outside my field of grasp.