When you're strange, faces come out of the rain

So i got an e-mail today asking me to bring back "Uneven Streets."

For the uninitated, that's an e-mail newsletter I started when i moved to Houma. One of several (three, i think) short-lived newsletters I've put out in my life.

My original answer was, "i'm already doing a blog, so that's the same thing."

But the more i think about it, the more i like the idea.

A once-a-week newsletter type.

could we see the return of "Ask Doctor Sweaty" or "Random-onium?"

Stay tuned.

No one's been sleeping in my bed, but my tennis racket smells like tuna fish

I thought I'd start off with some reader feedback today.

Hey, everybody, Ryan shops at the Gap! exclamation mark

Misty seemed slightly bothered that i season tuna steaks before i cook them. And i quote, "someone apparently doesn't appreciate the natural flavor of tuna steak. what a shame. what a shame."

Well, dangit, I'm not going to apologize. this isn't a case of overseasoning a steak, cooking it for an hour then drenching it A1. This is seasoning two sides and barely cooking it. There is still no doubt you're eating tuna.

Montie' is fasting for Lent which takes entirely more willpower than i could ever muster. It's only 8:30 and i've already had some chex mix, pringles, three cookies and two mini reese's peanut butter cups.

So i'm really rooting for her.

And did i mention Ryan shops at the Gap?

***

I think I'm getting glasses this weekend.

I have to renew my driver's license by Tuesday, and I don't think there's any way I can pass the eye test right now.

I've actually "had glasses" for about four years now. But people make fun of me, so one day i broke them (accidentally) and never bothered to get another pair. So it's been a couple of years since i've actually worn glasses.

And, yes, I would rather be a danger to myself and others on the road than hear another person tell me i look like a certain other person when i have glasses on. But, alas, there's nothing i can do.

Oh, wait, yes there is.

I'm going to get glasses. try to pass the eye test without them. and if that doesn't work, i'll just put them on to pass the test then break them.

Hamburgers, sodomy and Ash Wednesday traffic

Happy Ash Wednesday, or, as I like to call it, Return to Suck-Ass Traffic Day.

As you all know, Ash Wednesday celebrates the time Jesus got his ass stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the wedding at Cana, so he turned Lot's wife to ashes for acts of sodomy.

The devout Catholics in Baton Rouge relive the event by taking Monday and Tuesday (also known as Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras) off of work to attend elaborately themed recreations of history's first traffic jam (and the sodomy) in New Orleans. Then, they participate in a much larger recreation by driving into work Wednesday and making my commute farging miserable.

I haven't been struck by lightning yet, so let's move on to a less sacriligeous description of my commute this morning.

Ever throw a party and really bust your ass to make it great?

You spend all day in front of the grill or in the kitchen, just churning out plates and plates of tasty food. Then you finish and decide to reward yourself with a tasty hamburger and you realize that everything's gone except a half-eaten hotdog weiner?

That was my today.

I spent Monday and Tuesday grilling (at work...stupid bosses and their protestant work ethic) while everyone else was partying (that's actually not much of a metaphor, since they really were partying).

So Wednesday comes along and I'm driving to work and everyone is there, hovered around the food (I-12 and I-10). And I'm stuck in traffic for a half-hour longer than normal.

Is it really too much to ask that if i have to work when everybody is off, i should at least have OK traffic to drive in when everyone else decides to come back to work, too?

I have no idea where i was going with that...

...Despite probably punching my ticket to hell earlier this post, i will be attending Ash Wednesday mass tonight.

I'm giving up coffee and softdrinks for Lent and also making a renewed effort to get to the gym. this seems like the perfect opportunity to work on the fact that it grosses me out when i see my reflection.

I walk a lawn and i walk a lawn

Happy Mardi Gras.

Hope I'm the ony one who actually has to work today. although i'm sure those of you displaced in the northeast are probably trucking along as well.

i have chili on my crotch. i got it washing dishes this morning. but i didn't notice until i was driving to work. so now i have to hide my crotch from people without being obvious about it.

If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D

So here's a recap of yesterday's menu. I think it turned out OK, probably a bit ambitious for my limited kitchen skills. Was fairly impressed that i pulled this entire meal off from start to finish in about an hour and 20 minutes.

APPETIZER: Spinach-stuffed croissants with low-fat homemade french onion dip

Courtney really likes spinach and artichoke dip, but i don't know how to make it. So I decided at first to put some spinach and stuff in dough and pan fry it. Then I decided just to stuff some croissants with it and make something to dip them in.

Directions: Cook some frozen spinach. Cut up some garlic, cut up some artichoke hearts. mix it all together with some shredded mozarella cheese. add some salt and pepper and teeniney bit of cayenne. open a can of croissant/crescent rolls. put a gob of mix in a roll and fold it up. follow cooking directions on can.

For the dip, mix two gobs of sour cream and one gob of mayonaisse in a bowl. add some dry onion soup mix, salt, pepper, and some lemon and lime juice. stir and refrigerate.

The Verdict: presentation really sucked. probably should have used some egg wash to keep the rolls from popping open. but overall, very pleased with how it turned out. Doesn't taste like spinach dip, so if you don't like spinach in any other form, probably not the dish for you. But if you can handle spinach, I'm not ashamed to say that this was a winner.

I give it 4 (out of five) stars.

Side Dish: Cauliflower au gratin
Another of courtney's favorites. This dish suffered the most for two reasons. One, I didn't know how to make it. And, two, because i was in such a rush i didn't pay attention to seasoning as much as i normally do. My cardinal rule is "There is never an excuse to underseason anything." well, since cauliflower is naturally bland, this was the wrong dish to not listen to my own rule.

Directions: Cauliflower au gratin begins with the words that have started a million love stories, "First, you make a roux." melt some butter, stir in a proportionate amount of flower. stir the ever loving shit out of it, then stir some more. this was the first roux i've ever made, incidentally. oh yeah, by now you should have already cooked some cauliflower. so let's backtrack...

cut up some cauliflower. boil some water or some sort of broth. but not a whole hell of a lot, control yourself. drop the cauliflower in, put on the lid. leave it alone for a few minutes. take it out and drop it in a big ass bowl of ice water to make it stop cooking. let it sit for a minute or two, then take it out of the water and put it in a casserole dish...

please tell me you didn't stop stirring the roux, you dumb bastard. ok, when your roux turns blond-ish in a few minutes (i just moved on to the next step when i got tired of stirring) stir in a couple of cups of milk. don't just dump in it all at once, and for the love of pete, keep stirring. stir that for a minute or two, then let it simmer. while it;s simmering, stir in some cheese. i didn't see how much i put in because i was starting to panic.

stir for a second and next thing you know, you'll have this thick sauce like substance in your pan (or pot). pour it over the cauliflower. season it more than I did and top it with some breadcrumbs and more cheese. bake at 375 for 30 minutes.

The Verdict: This could have been a 4-star dish, but because it was too bland, i only give it 3 stars.

Side Dish: sauteed shrimp and mexican tomatoes over pasta.

Whenever i need something quick to eat, i loves me some pasta and rotel tomatoes. so i decided it would make a nice compliment to the main dish. Decided to make it a little better with some sauteed shrimp.

Directions: Boil water. Add spaghetti. not much, because it's a small serving.

season some peeled shrimp. i went with kosher salt, pepper, and a little cayenne. melt some butter in a pan with some extra virgin olive oil. i also would normally add garlic to that, but the garlic i bought was bad because how in the hell am i supposed to know what good garlic looks like. put the shrimp in. cook them for a few minutes until they're cooked.

open a can of whatever kind of canned diced tomatoes you like. I prefer something with a kick.

put some pasta on the plate. add some butter (i used spray butter because that's courtney's preference). salt and pepper and sprinkle with some italian seasoning and a dallop of tomatoes. put some shrimp on top.

The Verdict: this dish doesn't get rated because you can't screw it up and it has a limited ceiling. You could add some bell peppers and grilled chicken and turn it into a main dish, though.

Main Dish: Pan seared tuna steak

A can't miss.

Directions: season the shit out of a tuna steak. kosher salt, black pepper, cayenne, italian seasoning. get a pan with some extra virgin olive oil really hot. put the tuna in it, cooking each side for about 30-45 seconds.

courtney and i both like tuna very raw, so you can cook it for longer if you prefer.

One of my favorite love poems

Read this in The Big Book of Limericks close to 20 years ago at Pierre Bossier Mall and it's stuck in my head ever since. I'm sure it violates all sorts of limerick rules, but here goes:

THere was a man whose love interests were gingery
He tore a hole in his sister's best lingerie
He touched her behind
and made up his mind
to add incest to insult and injury.

Nobody's romancin' cause it's too early for dancin', but here comes the music

One of my favorite things about Valentine's Day is that Courtney is OK with me trying things that are usually off-limits.

Usually, because of how closely she watches her diet, I can't cook anything without her suspiciously eyeing the ingredients or cooking methods. But today, I get to experiment in the kitchen while she stays the hell away until dinner is ready.

i am being fairly conscious about the menu though to make sure that if she doesn't like it, it'll be because I screwed up and not because it wasn't healthy enough. I'll share the full menu tomorrow, because i don't want to ruin the surprise in case she reads this today.

But here's a generic round-up:

Appetizer Based on a Common Appetizer but Not Exactly the Same: I actually came up with this one the other day my ownself. It was originally going to be fried, but i think i'm going bake it. I've never made the main part of it, but i looked at a recipe. It sounded hard, so I'm just going to ignore the recipe and make it however i feel like.*

Good Main Dish: make this every once in a while. I know she likes it. Healthy and hard to screw up.

Good side Dish I've Never Made: the recipe for this sounded hard, too. So i'm just going to ignore it and make it however i feel like.*

Secondary Side Dish: Simple but tasty. Small portion to accent the main dish.

Dessert: Don't really have this figured out yet. Think I'll just go with whatever we have at the house.

*I make a pretty darned good (if i may say so) chicken parmasan having never actually seen a recipe, so this isn't the guaranteed disaster you probably think it is.

So, have a great Wednesday and may you all have someone to share your VD with.

Don't know whether i was the boxer or the bag

Yesterday is that magical day where normally rational adults get entirely too worked up over where a bunch of 17- and 18-year-olds decide to play college football.

As you can probably guess, I am one of those people. I spent yesterday with a list of LSU committments and a highlighter, periodically stopping my work to mark off each name as the signed letter of intent was announced.

That is, until Joe McKnight announced he was going to USC.

I found out from my friend Michael, who sent me a text message. if said text message appeared in a newspaper, it would likely look like this:

F***

Knowing what that simple message meant, i sent him one in return. had it appeared in a newspaper, it would most likely look like this:

F***ing****faced****licking******bag*******ingdingleberryeatingcrotchrot****faced**********

Or, for the sake of space:

(expletive deleted)

I'm ashamed to say I had nightmares last night about McKnight's press conference. There's no good reason for me to get worked up about this.

Incidentally, I also had a dream that an old woman in a powder blue hooptie ran me down on the sidewalk because she thought i stole her microwave. luckily, i came away from the attempted pedestriancide with only a badly sprained knee. Also, working in my favor was the fact that it happened only a couple of blocks from the hospital. Unfortunately, the 911 operator said that since i was so close i would have to walk to the hospital.

But, I'd like to end this post on happy note. So here's a little souped-up Toto cover to help you fondly remember the time you touched the rain down in africa.

pass the mind bleach, please

we all, or at least most of us, have that internal editor that warns us sternly when we're about to say something we really shouldn't.

Mine is screaming its lungs out right now, because i'm about to say something that really doesn't need to be shared with the rest of the class. Common sense tells me just to drop it and never speak of it with anyone, for fear that people might realize how strange I really am.

But I wasn't born with a wealth of common sense. So i'll just throw this out there.

I had a dream last night that Katie Holmes had sex with a horse in a harness over the Grand Canyon.

Luckily, I didn't actually witness said act in the dream.

The dream was actually from the perspective of a newscast. the anchor was talking about a video that had leaked to the public of Katie Holmes having sex with a horse because Tom Cruise wanted her too.

The station then showed a clip of the video, with Katie Holmes and a horse in individual red, nylon harnesses hanging over the grand canyon. Before it showed anything, the newscast cut to an interview with Holmes, talking about the experience and how much she loves her husband and all that. she basically looked and sounded brainwashed.

anyway, that was it.

Andy, are you goofing on Elvis?

we've all been there.

you're watching a band and the lead singer is howling out his lyrics with a guitar dangling in front of him. every once in a while, he'll start to play it, but there's no noticeable change to the sound of the song.

I frequently have to ask myself if the person is just pretending to play so he has something to do besides just stand there and sing.

I've always considered Prince a prime candidate for such an activity.

Not a big fan, so i have no basis for any sort of an informed opinion, but the various clips i've seen of him have always left me wondering if he was actually playing.

but i was reading something today and someone said that Prince is actually a very good guitar player. I was a little shocked.

I have nothing more to say that is either relevant or true.

where did all these people come from, and how soon can they leave?

You may notice that there's a new blog in our stuff we're reading sidebar.

Misty, long time reader and commenter here, is busting out on her own. She's the Joni Loves Chachi of this blog.

her blog is called ambient life, which, i think, is a reference to a sleeping pill or something.

read it early and often. that girl crazy.

another blog, which won't be linked on the right is http://callingkettle.blogspot.com

It's titled "Calling the Kettle Black" and it's written by this anonymous journalist who talks about stuff other people write. the first two posts likely sound familiar.

we must never speak of it again.

I'm here because they're paying me to do my thing

I've become enamored with nit-picking other people's writing. I even considered nit-picking my own writing, but remembered that it would be considered giving an opinion on material published by my employer and that is not allowed (most people would say 'verboten' right there, but i won't).

This jumped out at me from a story I read this morning about a firefighter rescuing a person who had driven his car into some water.

The writer tells the reader that the firefighter "stripped to his pants and T-shirt" before getting in the water. There are a couple of things that i find interesting about the use of that phrase, and I'll be surprised if i can present this in any sort of way that makes sense.

So to help keep things moving along as best I can, I'll break it down into two separate but parallel but also intersecting points: A. The use of the verb stripped and B. Relevance of the verb stripped relative to its location in the story.

I hate to ruin the ending and all, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up being OK with how the writer uses the phrase.

A. The use of the verb "stripped."

Let's look at the phrase "stripped to his pants and t-shirt." I wouldn't be writing about it if it didn't initially strike me as odd.

To me, that could be reworded to mean "the firefighter took off his shoes, socks and possibly an outer-layer shirt." That to me, is not an act that would qualify as "stripping."

Then I thought about it for a second -- the writer did exactly what every journalism student is taught to do: use strong verbs.

"stripped" clearly moves the action along better than "took off his shoes..."

And how many people besides me are going to be anal retentive enough to actually catch something like that?

So i started to congratulate the writer for doing a pretty good job and i congratulated myself for being able to admit i was wrong.

But then I thought about it further.

Maybe the writer meant that the firefighter had gear on when he reached the scene, so he had an additional layer of clothing to take off, which would amount to stripping.

That, in turn, created another question in mind. How come when I read the article I assumed that the guy who made the rescue just happened to be a firefighter and not that he had been called to the scene as part of his job?

B. Relevance of the word stripped relative to its location in the story
While the rescuer is referred to in the headline and first paragraph as a firefighter, it's not until the third paragraph ('stripped' appears in the second graph) that it becomes evident (but not completely obvious) that the firefighter was called to the scene and was not a convenient witness to the accident.

So why didn't i immediately make the connection that "stripped" indicated him taking off his fire suit?

I was taught by Dee Dee Thurston (who stressed this to me until her eye balls bled) that "real people" go early in the story, officials go later.

My default mechanism told me that since the firefighter was mentioned early, that he must be a "real person." Had he been acting in the scope of his job, he would have been a firefighter first and, thus, the person who drove the car into the water should lead the action of the story with those acting in the scope of their profession being secondary to the story. Ergo (what?), since he was in the lead, he was not acting as a firefighter in an official capacity, and wouldn't have been wearing anything additional that would have necessitated "stripping."

But upon further reading, it is noted that the water temperature was in the mid-40s and that the firefighter was without feeling in legs for some time following the rescue.

That meant that the rescue was made under extraordinary circumstances and thus justified both 1)using the firefighter in the lead and 2) the verb stripped.

nice job by the writer (although a bit more explanation would have saved us all from the headache of this post).

Incidentally, I think this will inspire me to begin a second blog to write about stuff like this, while saving you from having to read it.

Bad writing kills world's oldest person

The woman featured in the previous post's story is dead.

I hope that writer is proud of himself.

slip away, i can feel it all slip away from me

Ok, check this out. She's old, right? Read that lead again...

A Connecticut woman born to former slaves in the decades following the U.S. Civil War has become the world's oldest person, at 114, according to Guinness World Records.

See that?

The lady is 114, she doesn't need some lame-ass attempt from some writer to make her sound older. She's 114!

2007 (now)-114 (her age)=1892 (her birth year)

Civil War: 1861 to 1865

Never mind the fact that she was born in (Wayne Campbell voice) "a year" not "decades"-- choosing the Civil War as the point of reference was bullshit. She was born nearly 30 years after it was over. Just lame (unless, of course, her amazing longevity truely can be attributed to her multi-decadenal gestation). (i'm also reasonably certain i misspelled several words in that last sentence.)

That's like saying "Seth, who was born in the decades following the Kennedy assassination..."

1892(her birth year) - 1865 (end of war) = 27 years

1980 (my birth year) - 1963 (Kennedy assassination) = 17 years

I was born a full decade closer to the Kennedy assassination than she was to the end of the Civil War. How many people associate Kennedy with the 19 flippin 80's?

Things that happened in 1892 that would have been a better comparison than that lame-ass Civil War shit:

-Rules of basketball published

-Ellis Island opens

-Columbus sails the ocean blue

-Lizzie Bordon chops up stuff...people mostly

-Grover Cleveland elected president

Just crappy writing. and if anybody knows crappy writing, it's me.

And i ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when

I was going to devote this entire blog to television shows, but there was a glare in my rearview mirror on the drive to work this morning.

This was literally (and i mean literally as in "literally," not literally as in "figuratively" like some people like to use it much to my chagrin) the first time in two weeks i had seen the sun. Just thought it warrants a mention.

And now on to television.

Started watching "Deal or No Deal" the other day. Really like the premise of the game, and enjoy factoring the odds and all that while watching.

But, bobdamn, do i hate the contestants.

I don't know how they find such annoying people and their very annoying friends and family. I start out interested in the game and playing along, but by the end i'm rooting against the contestant more than anything.

i don't know how long i can keep watching with such a high annoyance level.

Not much for reality television, but i rather enjoy Top Chef on Bravo. The two people i was rooting for were booted last night (althought i wasn't awake to see the end). Now i don't know if i want to watch next week's finale because i'm going to drop-kick a puppy if Marcel wins.

One of my favorite series of books, Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, is now a tv show on Sci-Fi.

don't like the dresden character. too rugged/macho looking. not nearly clumsy/funny enough. definitely a noticeable lack of humor in the show. to be an hour long, the first half should be a lot funnier.

not enough incidental magic stuff (yes, it's about a wizard). he needs to do more of the little stupid spells instead of just blabbering on about the high council then using some lame doom box at the end.

too much father/flashback stuff.

it was basically a detective show with a cop-out "blow the bad guy up" ending. needs to boost the cleverness factor a lot.

otherwise, it was watchable.

I made the mistake of letting Courtney watch Friday Night Lights several weeks ago. Now that I'm ready to quit watching it because of the unbelievable football stuff (although last night's episode was infinitely better as far as that goes), Courtney is addicted to all the soap opera crap involved.

i used to love it, but i don't believe in school no more

Besides the obvious events like my wedding and...well, my wedding, i guess...the happiest I've ever been around a female was at the LSU-Ole Miss football game in 2003 in Oxford, Miss.

World-famous douchetard Eli Manning was supposed to lead the Rebels to the promised land. but ended up on his butt and all was right in the world as they lost again.

Right after the deciding play. i turned around and saw a woman in ole miss garb crying. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. To quote Cartman after he cooked Scott Tenorman's parents in chili and fed it to him: "Yes, yes, oh let me taste your tears. your tears are so tasty and sweet. oh, the tears of unfathomable sadness. yummy! yummy!"

If you could ever enjoy watching another person's suffering on the level i did that night, you're going to love this video from NBX Sports :

***

Why do people insist on calling hypothetical places of perpetual solitude "desert islands?"

how in the hell do you have a desert island? an island, by it's definition is surrounded by water. it's kind of hard to have something that is both a desert and an island.

it's "deserted island," people. as in, there's no civilization on it. dumbasses.

***

speaking of calling things stuff, i heard someone refer to Les Miserables as "Les Mis" today.

how many times do you have to read or see that to call it Les Mis?

I've never read it, seen it, or have any clue what it's about. So do i have to pronouce it by its full name?

or even worse, am i allowed to pronounce it "Lay Mizerahb" even though i know nothing about it, or do i have to call it "Less miserables?"

any help would be appreciated.

Freecos?

man, it's been almost a week already. where to begin?

Of course, I was obviously pleased with the results of the sugar bowl.

and i'm not real happy with saban taking the alabama job. i can understand leaving LSU for the NFL if it's truly your dream. and i can understand leaving the NFL because it's not what you expected/wanted. but if you leave LSU for the right reasons, you don't take a job with a school in their freaking division.

i had insomnia pretty bad over the stretch of a few days between christmas and new year's. Check out this joke i thought of while drinking wine at 4 a.m. to try and knock myself out:

What vegetable goes best with extra duck?
Asparagoose!

oh man, that's awesome. if you look closely, you'll see that there are actually two jokes in there.

I kind of thought the whole House-drug arrest problem worked itself out a little too nicely on House last night, but all-in-all it was an excellent episode. i chortled a couple of times. easily the best show on television right now.

i can't promise i will be there on opening night, but i will see this movie...




and just because i'm so happy about it, a little classic lagniappe...

He aw, He aw, He always likes to be called Albert

Hey everybody.

It's been a while. Hope the end of everyone's year proved to be relaxing and enjoyable and the start of 2007 is also the balls.

speaking of balls, courtney was in Times Square Sunday night to witness the magic. i was on our couch watching the 40-year-old virgin.

speaking of virgins, my friend michael gave me a cool t-shirt for christmas. "I gave my word to stop at third. 1987 suffolk county teen abstinence day."

speaking of teens, didn't get much sleep new year's eve because the kid next door shot firecrackers outside my bedroom window until about 3 a.m. it was the third straight night i had trouble sleeping.

in fact, friday night/saturday morning i tried the whole "drink wine at 4 a.m. to fall asleep" strategy but it didn't work too well. after waking up at 2, i finally fell back asleep around 9 a.m. after much reading, some drinking, and watching "Young Frankenstein."

One last interesting tidbit before I go:

Chicago Bears defensive linemen Tank Johnson was arrested on gun charges a while back. Then a month or so ago, police searched his house and found more guns. Johnson's body guard was in the house and was arrested on marijuana charges. a couple of nights later, the body guard was killed outside a night club in a shooting.

The other night, denver broncos player darrent williams was killed in a shooting outside a night club.

The common thread? Both Tank Johnson and Darrent Williams have their full first and last names on the back of their jerseys.

I can't go outside I'm scared i might not make it home

Before we get to today's entry, there has been some Blogger (TM)-induced change to his site. i've seen other sites that had the same change complain about problems with posting comments. so, if you want to comment and it doesn't work try again or something.

***

Had a pretty enjoyable weekend capped off by a trip to the Saints game, which wasn't much to watch.

Before the game, four people played musical chairs for a chance to advance to the musical chair finals in a couple of weeks for a chance to win Super Bowl tickets.

There was one woman this week who was clearly in violation of the spirit of the rules of musical chairs. every one knows that to correctly play musical chairs, you have to travel at a constant speed around the chairs. this woman would dance near a chair for a few seconds then run to the next chair and stop and dance.

needless to say, the woman won. when they announced her as the winner, the crowd--obviously schooled in proper musical chairs sportsmanship--booed mightily. The announcer said, "i think this is the first time somebody has been booed in musical chairs."

I hope the musical chair judges do a better job next time of enforcing the spirit of the rules.

in fact, i'm going to e-mail the Saints now to make sure it happens.

Smoke a cigarette and lie some more