Random Meat--Nothing but Love for you, baby

The post could have been called "Heart-Shaped Chuck".  But I'm not sure that is chuck, and I actually do have nothing but love, and the occasional meat picture, for my readers.

Notorious B.I.G. calms crying baby.

Smart baby--her face is like, "What are these delightful beats?" My parents had to drive me around with the car radio on when I was a fussy wee one so I don't doubt they tried a lot to figure out what she liked!

Louis CK--Being Broke

This routine is like 99% awesome, and about 1% awful that I totally know what he's talking about.

Heavy D 1967-2011. He'll be missed.

Rest in peace overweight lover.

Random meat-

Hot dogs don't tell their pigtail--until artists tell it for us. Eat the pig.

Wow. I love old ads on Youtube.

Culture Shock is healthy and fun. Come and see!




I appreciate the use of radioactivity to test cold cream. Shouldn't everyone?



Pepsi--because um--you couldn't possibly get fat drinking it if you aren't also eating!



Women used to not watch tv or drive. Those were the days.



She never needs chemicals!



Still learning her way around the mountain, I guess.




Old cigarette ads make me wanna light up!

Wasn't that fun?

Tom Waits/ Cookie Monster Mash-up

Steampunk Octopus. I'm going to have to go Burning Man Sometime.

Random meat--The Comfy Chair!

It goes with our decor, but the real trick is keeping it clean.

Drying my own figs!



Although having my own fig trees in the back yard means I've grown to appreciate raw figs, we simply get too many. We have two trees and we get more fruit every year--and unfortunately, there just aren't too many people we know who also appreciate fresh figs.  That means we end up with a surplus--after all, you can only cram your face with so many figs! And of course, it's a shame to waste food!

This year,  we decided to get a food dehydrator. It's very easy to use--basically, you line the trays with figs and set the temperature, and the next day you have dried figs.  Dried figs keep longer and seem to be a little more popular with people we know than fresh ones. The result of our first try at drying figs are pictured above--they aren't beautiful, but they do taste pretty good. The dehydrator itself just sounds like a fan--that's pretty much what it is.   Now that I've done a batch of dried figs (and have another batch drying away right now), I'm thinking about what's next.  I'll probably make some raisins if we have too many grapes (although that doesn't look like a problem we'll be having this year).  But I'm also thinking about doing dried tomatoes and banana chips. I don't even really like banana chips--but I might do a batch to see how they turn out--and because I can!

Thinking About Things that Are Food, vs. Things You Can Eat

I've been thinking and reading a lot about food, lately.  I'm not dieting, per se, but I've been making changes (like not drinking alcohol, and eliminating a lot of "empty calorie" foods) to what I eat, and because of the way my mind works, once I start to be interested in anything, I think about sharing what I'm thinking and reading about.

Some of what I've been reading lately goes against "conventional wisdom" regarding nutrition and health--books like Gary Taubes' Why We Get Fat and Sally Fallon and Mary D. Enig's Nourishing Traditions have given me food for thought about what's eating most of us, health-wise. It's made me more aware of how many things we can find in stores and our own kitchens that just wouldn't have been recognized as "food" to our great-grandparents, let alone our distant ancestors. And once we get down to analyzing labels--it gets a little hard for us to see them as food, either. 

Random Meat--Picture of everyday things made of meat.

There is no good reason why everyday things should be made out of meat. But there they are. This is what my Random Meat series is all about. Random. And meat.

Odetta and Johnny Cash--

Round and Round--Tevin Campbell

Apocalypse Juke Box: Because billboards said so--

Random Meat--hotdogpuses.

Even if you are squeamish about seafood, you can still enjoy the loveliness of octopus with an interesting decoupage approach to preparing hotdogs. Simply cut the lower half of your hot dog into "eighths" to create "legs".  Oh--and if you fry this thing, seriously? The legs spread out and curl up and look even more octopussy. Which is a really awesome feature in an obviously great appetizer for your next water-themed thing? Right?

But you can still serve your sardines, mussels, whathaveyous. You just won't get the same applause!

I have Identifying Marks.

I've never blogged my tats before. But it seems like they absolutely qualify as Random Stuff.  I have an ankh on my low-to mid-back:

Basically, it's a light blue, stylized ankh. To me, it was to symbolize "rebirth", because I got my tattoos when I was just getting a divorce.  I sort of have considered adding to the theme on my back, using a djed symbol beneath the ankh and a sphinx on either side of the djed to represent my backbone, stability, support and protection.  As an underscore, I would put a wide-based lotus flower with the symbol for nefer inside. (There's a kind of pun there for my given name--Djed-nefer. ) I never got around to this vision because tattoos ain't cheap, and I wondered if it wouldn't look too busy and weird and culture-appropriating.

Also, I have an eye of Horus on the inside of my left calf:

To my mind, this was about the vision to put my best foot forward. I've considered gettting a feather representing Maat on the opposite leg to represent honesty, but the same concern prevailed. What strikes me as balanced and symbolic might not make aesthetic sense to people looking at the design. So I've left my tattoos at just these two.

For now. I got both of these in one sitting, and it struck me that I was very comfortable with the whole process. It really didn't hurt, which surprised me. (I've done things like pierced my own ears and that actually is pretty, um, wince-some.) My spouse is more fully illustrated than I am--I might blog his tatts, some time. Every picture tells a story.

It's possible that if some design struck me as really appropriate to who I am, I would get another.

Oh, stop with your Airwick, we're Lampe Berger People, Obviously!

Do you Lampe Berger? Because if you are not doing la Lampe Berger, your living space probably smells like cabbage, wet dog, and "He swore this was the good shit, but, I dunno...."

We came across Lampe Berger lamps whilst traipsing around Peddlers' Village, because we are world-class traipsers and Peddlers' Village is not terribly far from our Far Northeast Philadelphian urban existence. It's a delightful jaunt. We pass sheep, ponies, and other rural things to get there. Things are different there. One can eat very regrettably and shop disgustingly. And we have.  I know this isn't a winning endorsement--but keep it under advisement. One can eat better and shop smarter than Peddlers Village, but one won't fucking Lampe Berger. I fucking Lampe Berger now.  I am too working class to know about this shit--but now I do. And now that I know, I can't unknow this shit, people!

The Lampe Berger is an invention from 1898 that began as a way to "purify" or at least, deodorize, hospitals. It uses a wick to soak up a scented oil/alcohol mix that perfumes a given area. This it does, very effectively.  If you have just cooked a mess of ribs and garlicked peas, your Lampe Berger will stop that mess from making you feel like the ghost of that meal is haunting you all night. It doesn't smoke like scented candles or incense and in its way, is terribly....pretty.  And the variety of scents of the House Berger are many, and for a nasal snob, too exciting.

"Born This Way / Express Yourself / I Like It"

This guy has talent:
 

The Vlad the Impaler Conundrum--a thing I think about--

This comes from Robert Anton Wilson's Schroedinger's Cat Trilogy, and I'm paraphrasing because I'm fucked if I'm either supposed to transcribe or figure out how to copy/paste from Adobe, so here's the conundrum:

Two monks are travelling through the Transylvanian countryside, and its getting late, and they need a place to stay for the evening. Their host, Vlad the Impaler, was of bad repute, but they consented to stay with him instead of trying their luck with the wolves.

So anyway, Vlad being Vlad, he puts the eternal question to the two monks, "How'm I doing?"  It's part an earnest question, and part a dare. Would they be honest with him, or would they fib their asses off in hopes of not getting impaled.  Because impaling sounds really bad, you know?

So anyway, the first monk kisses Vlad's ass. Such a lovely place he has here. His peasants seem so loyal. Everyone is so quiet and well-mannered and dedicated. Obviously Vlad must be doing a super bang-up job of things, because he has a lovely place, and, and looks so great in those trousers. In other words, out of fear of his life, or maybe even sympathy with the devil, the first friar laid it on thick.

The second monk took the totally opposite tack. How dare Vlad even ask the question, when he must know full well how he treated the people of his province? How, if they seemed so loyal and mannerly, it was because they feared for their lives? How they lived a life that was less than humans should expect, and that he, Vlad, was to blame and should fear for his soul.

Who did Vlad impale?

The answer is supposed to suggest a lot about one's relationship to authority. Most people at least understand he had to impale one of them--minimum.

Me--I think he impaled the guy who told the truth. Right in front of the guy who kissed ass. Because it was expected. And the monk who kissed ass breathed a momentary sigh of relief before he was brutally disemboweled.

Because Vlad the Impaler, is why.

 Lesson: Know your motherfucker.

Robbie Williams and Tom Jones--Are you Gonna Go My Way?

It's the voices--and um, I don't need video to know, I'd be so melting to see them both in concert, so, there's that.

Dried Figs with nuts in their butts.

I'm all about real food. I like to snack on simple things that don't have a whole lot of ingredients, and lately, the nosh I've been crazy about is dried figs (because we got a mess of dried white figs on sale at a local produce store, and I still have a stash of organic mission figs we got at Nuts Online --seriously--if you love nuts, seeds, spices, and dried fruit, this is the place to go!) with almonds and pistachios stuffed into the crevice you have after pulling off the woody stem.

Because I am classy like that, I am referring to the resulting appetizer/dessert as "Figs With two Nuts up their Butts". Because I put both an organic salted almond and a large, California pistachio, in the, um, aperture of the fig. The result is so sweet and salty--and chewy and crunchy! This is definitely the thing that is tiding me over until my own fig trees give'em up (that will be late August, probably), so I can enjoy more elegant things like fresh figs with ham and blue cheese (another elegant, dumb recipe--halve fresh fig, stuff blue cheese on one slice, bandage halves back together with a slice of good ham--toast in an oven for like, 15 mins. It's ridiculously easy and Oh my literarily speaking God, I have to wait four, almost five months! Before I can taste this heaven in mouth again!)

So in the meanwhile, my fig-cravings are all about stuffing nuts into my dried fruit. Also--OMG! Do this--parmesan cheese with a drizzle of good honey and a Granny Smith Apple slice! No--shut up, DO IT!  Or if you "entertain", lemon-juice up some apple slices and slap them on a honeyed parmesan cheese "raft" and get these bad boys on a plate for your next wine (beer) and cheese "thing".

Re--freaking-dickulous. I'm of the opinion simple recipes kick the most ass. This is easy--totally kicks ass. Fruits and nuts--not just produce--they are an adventure!

Random Meat--not your cup of tea?

This appears to be a teacup, saucer, and spoon all made of meat. Probably bacon. If I were to drink tea from a cup fashioned from bacon, I think I would go with a lapsang souchong.  The smoky flavor would be very complimentary to the pork flavor. Also, I think instead of my usual Splenda in tea, I would use just a smidgen of maple syrup. The lovely thing is eating the tea service instead of washing-up, making the idea not only aesthetically pleasing but dead practical. And delicious!

I make things! These are booties I crocheted for myself!

I've been re-learning how to crochet. My grandmom taught me how to crochet maybe 25 years ago, but it's a skill I didn't really have a whole lot of use for. I started blankets, bags, a lot of projects, when I was younger, but I guess I just wasn't as interested in seeing things out to the end. Now, I feel a sense of accomplishment when I make something I really am satisfied with, and lately, I've been making booties.

I've made two pairs for my husband, and they were okay--the first pair I made, after about 20 years without even touching a crochet-needle, were overlarge, and I think I might want to see if some other, larger-footed male in my family has a use for them.  I made a slightly-better purple pair that my husband does use, and they were nice enough, but I had left over yarn from them, and then found a lavendar and white acrylic that was really soft and really cheap, and thought I'd make myself a pair. Because they were mine, I used the left-over purple yarn to make a detail at the ankle and  pretty flowers that I fastened on with more of the lavendar yarn. I think they turned out pretty nice (although I still seem to be making my projects "big"--they are a tiny bit loose. ) Anyway--random thing! Made by me! I'm kind of proud of them! Yay, crafting!

Breastfeeding Dolls and Being Female-bodied (Also--the U-word! And boobies!)

There's been a little interest over this baby doll that allows children to play at breastfeeding.  Some people find this a "mature" concept or just intimate or weird. I think these people are really too uptight. Female-bodied women who have given birth can feed their babies with their mammary glands. It's part of being a mammal. It's a scientific fact that this is what boobies are intended for. It's also the best way for most human babies to be fed, for many health reasons. So I'm a little flummoxed when I hear that some people find this to be a controversial toy--it's a doll. Kids like to mirror the behavior of adults, and have been playing with dolls since forever. Breastfeeding is totally natural--so it's natural for a child who is interested in family-oriented play ("house", we called it, when I was a pup), to use a doll to mimic suckling, just as they've used dolls to mimic bottle-feeding.

Is there something weird about the idea of pretending to be a mother when one is not old enough to have children--that suddenly becomes extra-weird when it means imagining one has developed functional mammaries? In other words--is it somehow normal for a child to imagine having a baby (and we adults presumably know where babies come from), and yet not appropriate to play out having the grown-woman's body required to nurture that pretend-baby?

I don't know why I have a picture of a chicken purse in my hard drive.

I'm not sure whether I intended to blog about it or if it was something I really, really, really thought I wanted. I can't remember what site I copy and pasted this picture from. Although I am not sure that I have any outfit that would do justice to a chicken purse, there is something so very....chicken about this purse that I really think I would wear it proudly, just because people would totally have to comment. 

"You sure like chickens, huh?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

Someday I will do a blog-post about the mad number of chickens represented in my kitchen decor. It's a whole lot of chickens. Or, I could post about my ridiculous love of purses, because, yeah, it's a lot of purses. The intersection of the two obsessions is right here--chicken purse.

(If this is your chicken purse, by all means contact me about where I found this pic and where you found your purse, because....hello, very awesome!)

UPDATE: It was Kitschy Living. I know because I went back to the site and did what I'm always tempted to do--see....every....picture. And there it was.

I got a Fish--I will show you it--

I didn't really want another fish. At one point, we had a twenty-gallon tank with three fancy goldfish and a ninety-gallon tank with five rambunctious comet fish, and taking care of them all was tiring. A fish tank is an artificial environment that requires regular tending to keep one's charges alive and happy. We gave away the five comets when we had to plan a trip to Italy and couldn't care for them, and the three fancies dwindled by natural attrition. And for awhile, even though we had all this fish equipment around the house, we just weren't having any fishes.

But then the spouse got the urge to start up a tank again, because it is nice, after all, to care for something. It's cheerful to have a pet to talk to and see to and do things for. So we set up a small tank (15 gallons) and now we have a little red-capped fishy. Meatman named him DiLusso. I think this is a very smart and cute fish. Also, I do not think we should have another fish--or move this one to a bigger tank. For my part, I have expressed an urge to clean out the 90 gallon tank for use as a faunarium for a nice reptile or two, like anoles. (We have placed some of our larger, more unwieldy "big tank" filters straight out on the curb--they were unhygenic and frankly--I said to myself "yay!" Because, no....more....big...fishtank! Stinky annoying equipment to wash--away! away!)

I think what I really wanted was no fish at all and all the equipment on the curb. But I already like our fish and all, so zie's staying, and in the meanwhile, I get to clean out the big tank for my own fun critter-related experiement. More work--but sometimes work can be fun. Also, I really like "critters".

.

More Commercial Ear-worms--here's some doozy's:

These are some more commercials with the songs I have stuck in my head:

Bain de Soliel:



Wash that grey?



Got a passion for fashion?



Because, Tyrese.




So, those are in my head forever.

56K Modem Speed--

I dunno how I never heard this one until recently:



I ditched my 56K like, a half dozen years ago, but this takes me back.

This is old--But Elephant Painting Flowers and other animal tales.

This sort of thing always makes me pause--we aren't the only sentient beings on the planet--we're just the ones most certain that we're the only sentient beings on the planet, because of our privilege as the foremost users of tools and symbolic language. I don't know how an elephant is taught to draw flowers like that.  But I think that it could display an awareness of the elephant's selfhood as a being communicating its impression of the concept of flowers. And that ability to convey perspective is the shrinking of a gulf between humans and other species.

Two stories this week tweaked my attention on this subject:

Hens feel empathy for their chicks:

 If you’ve been looking for a reason to take up vegetarianism, here you go: A new study finds that chickens can feel empathy. Researchers in the UK ruffled the feathers of chicks by exposing them to puffs of air. The result: signs of distress in the chicks … that were also mirrored in their mothers. The hens showed signs of stress including an increased heart rate, a lowered eye temperature, and increased levels of alertness, preening, and clucking at their chicks, the Telegraph reports.

And whales may have names:

Subtle variations in sperm-whale calls suggest that individuals announce themselves with discrete personal identifier. To put it another way, they might have names.



The findings are preliminary, based on observations of just three whales, so talk of names is still speculation. But “it’s very suggestive,” said biologist Luke Rendell of Scotland’s University of St. Andrews. “They seem to make that coda in a way that’s individually distinctive.”

Wow. 

Belated St Patty's Day Not-entirely-Random Meat Offering

This, of course, is corned beef with cabbage, potatoes and carrots. It is supposed to be the epitome of Irish cuisine.  I, for what it's worth, love the way boiled cabbage, potatoes, and carrots come out in a dish like this, where the ingredients can be cooked ensemble in a crock pot or in a large stew pot on the stove top.  The flavor of the corned beef enhances the vegetables and makes them very brothy and agreeable.

The sticking point for me is the corned beef. It's boiled beef and it's pink. I've cooked meat in ways that I would considered bad--I braised a great big turkey leg in wine until it had the basic consistency of Happy Fun Ball.  I've broiled strip steaks for a period > 8 minutes. (No, don't hate me. I was young, I didn't know. The crispy bits were really reminiscent of well-done beef bacon, so it wasn't all bad. No, they weren't an inch thick, even. Thus, the crispage. In future, I will always do these in a pan w/butter and close attention!)  But boiled beef just feels wrong to me.

Don't get me wrong. My mom has made pot roast,  even crock-pot beef, that has been tender and not without flavor, but when I'm presented with a roast cut, my first instinct is to roast. And when I see pink meat, I am either looking at ham or the inside of my rare skirt-steak--I just don't get corned beef (except as a luncheon meat, in which case it is truly delicious and ridiculously good with cole slaw or sauerkraut on a nice rye bread.).

I prepared corned beef with potatoes and cabbage all of once. My first husband was full-blooded Irish and very proud of his heritage, so I wanted to make a meal for St. Pat's that expressed my appreciation of a heritage I share (like, I think 25%? mixed with sundry other things).   It wasn't the worst meal I ever made (That was the braised turkey.) It wasn't even bad. It needed, perhaps, a story to go along with it, about the history of Ireland and why this dish was part of our culture. As it was, we had leftovers that went to the back of the fridge for a bit. They went blue, not green after several weeks at the back of the fridge, and we didn't even save the plastic container.  It may be the dish wasn't all it could be because I'd never had good corned beef and potatoes, so I didn't know how it ought to taste, and maybe somewhere a great plate of these can be found.

Knowing now that salt pork was the original meat at the center of the cuisine makes a difference to me, though. I've long appreciated the flavors that pork fat imparts in vegetables from doing greens or lima bean in pork hocks; I think I may want to revisit this dish to see if it can be done in a more flavorful, and authentic way. Although, thanks to my current, Italian-American spouse, my answer to this dish is going to look like pan-fried prosciutto with fennel in the place of cabbage and the spuds will also be fried, unless I decide to serve my fennel and prosciutto over potato gnocchi. Yummmmm. Irish/Italian fusion doesn't sound so bad, right? Or, to get down to the boil and the cabbage, start with a mirepoix of onion, celery and carrot, and then dump in minced savoy cabbage, and have them simmered with pork hocks that were already roasted so they were ready to yield the best of their gelatinous flavor and  a couple quarts of vegetable or chicken stock. Simple, peasant-style eats, but done, you know, with intensity.

No Prell-tasting green food colored beer. Just the kind of food my Irish ancestors would have found an affordable bounty.

This is my pop culture blog--so, Charlie Sheen. Where do I start?

I've laughed at and been uncomfortable with Two and A Half Men since the initial episode. And yet I've watched it all, every episode, many times. Why is that? Why am I, a feminist, watching a show that seems so rooted in misogyny? If I value the rights and well-being of people with mental health issues and want to bring awareness to the the problems of destrucive and abusive relationships, why am I watching this....pretty badly-framed, nonsense-ridden show?

I think it's because I recognize a lot of the ugliness of our culture being exposed in it. I think it's because as a person who has dealt with alcohol issues, the character of Charlie as a highly functioning and unrepentant alcoholic fascinates me. "Alan's" (Jon Cryer's character)  classic schlemeihl quality is a good source of humor. And weirdly, in the midst of a somewhat misogynistic show--the women have actually been on occasion the strong, sensible, reasonable characters. Berta (Conchata Ferell) is a working class philosopher, strong, independent, confident in her size and really, has some of the best lines of the show. Her libido, her casual ethics, and her biting humor are great asides. Evelyn, (Holland Taylor) is a Mater Terribilis. And yet, even though she is depicted as a domineering and even selfish woman--there are aspects of her I love. She seems an early-adopter of sex-positive feminism. She takes pride in the success of her career, She's genuinely a romantic--she believes in love even after it has stiffed her a bunch of times. She's sexually vibrant and doesn't give a shit who knows it even if she's a grandmother. And the depiction of her sexual fluidity is also fascinating. She's a hetero-dominant bisexual.  And  Judith (Marin Hinkle), Alan's ex-wife, is also presented as bisexual. I find it fascinating that recurring, strong female characters--who often are depicted as the emotional "heavies" of the show, both seem like reflections on non-heteronormative and unapologetic feminism. I think I might be loving the characters the show wants me to dislike.

But I can't quite place how I'm supposed to feel, or what to even think, about Rose (Melanie Lynskey). She's highly-educated, sensitive, nurturing, and is supposedly dangerously obsessed with Charlie. And the things she does are clearly not normative. And yet--even if she is depicted as a sympathetic character, her behavior isn't socially acceptable and her relationship with Charlie isn't healthy. But no one addresses the idea that she might need help--instead, borderline violations of the boundaries of lovers seem commonplace in 2.5menville.

Anyway, I used to appreciate the show for having a weird vibe that sometimes struck notes that weren't all that bad (the episode where one of Charlie's exes comes out as a trans man and dates Evelyn is sort of  touching, and almost like, wow, this is almost nearly an open-minded and not totally mainstream-opinion-fuxxored show.) and yet, watching it makes me identify the show via the tiger-blood, machete, Twittacular star of the show--one Charlie Sheen.

I first saw him at the end of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. That movie came out in 1986. I have therefore at least known of Charlie Sheen for 2 decades. And I worry. I don't know how to worry about someone I know of, but don't know. I also don't know how not to worry. I know he's bright and verbose and witty. I know he's charming, I know he has a history of abusing women.

And to me, that's one horrible thing.  The deal-breaker. One respects women--or one isn't ready to embrace the whole of the brotherhood and sisterhood of man.  I want him to be better than now, and I want him to own that he treated people wrongly. I don't want him to overdose, and if he' s got an organic issue mentally, I want him to get the best of care--full stop. Because it all looks like such crap from my vantage--all his bravado, and all this disaster happening around him. To me, this all feels a lot like I'm watching someone I know dying. I don't have to approve of everything in his life to find that really upsetting. I know of his father and his brother. I feel like I know him well enough that I would mourn his passing.

So, if he gave a shit enough to listen to fans, I 'd hope he'd hear someone like me, who just thinks he needs rest and perspective. And to think about himself and his family. And to admit this isn't winning if so many of the people around him are losing because of what he's doing.

Truly Dumb-ass Story of the Week: London 2012 Olympics Logo Spells...Zion?

This is one of those "LOL--whut?" sort of stories. I just recently came across this news item, and what the, I don't even....oh just look here:

Iran claims London 2012 Olympics logo spells the word 'Zion

'Almost four years after the logo's launch, Tehran threatens to boycott the Games unless the design is changed



Iran has threatened to boycott the London Olympics unless the organisers replace the official logo, which Tehran claims spells out the word "Zion".

The logo, a jagged representation of the year 2012, has been said by its critics to resemble many things, from a swastika to a sexual act, but the Iranian government argues it represents a veiled pro-Israeli conspiracy.

In a formal complaint to the International Olympic Committee, Tehran has called for the graphic to be replaced and its designers "confronted", warning that Iranian athletes might otherwise be ordered to stay away from the London Games.

Well, sure, because: Iran. But seriously--why would London go out of their way to promote Zionism in their Olympics Logo? Because, duh, if there was conspiracy afoot, you wouldn't want to broadcast it in code in a commercial logo. C'mon. You'd keep it on the downlow. But the real surprise is people who saw the logo as depicting a sex act--which I totally didn't see until reading that some people were interpreting it a depicting a sex act.

But now? I can't not see it. Thanks, dirty-minded people.

Anyway, if we're playing "logo-Rorschach", I see it as resembling one of those doodles of a sample band-logo that a tween paints  in White-out on the front of her binder, colored in with highlighter pen. Sort of like this:

So actually--um, no. The UK isn't secretly being run by the Elders of Zion or whatever. It is being run by 13-year old girls from the '80's. So there.

Random Meat--it's been a long time since I've rock and rolled.

This is a picture of someone who is delighted to have a box with meat in it. And who wouldn't be? From the marbling and the bright red color, you can tell that this is a pretty good steak, but really, this should be promptly wrapped and refrigerated--or slapped on a skillet, at her nearest convenience. As the meat is pulled from a box, and there appears to be no mess, I suspect she might have some dried aged beef, which might be why she is happy to pose with it, but if that's the case, the color isn't quite dark enough. But lucky her if her box has some properly seasoned aged steak.  I suggest she acquire a nice Beaujolais and for an easy veggie dish, quickly braise some tender asparagus spears in a pan, and then, dump the water and finish'em with a little plus gras butter and pepper. Add a mixto salad with oil & vinegar and a great loaf of bread, and you simply can't eat better. If her meal is that easy and built around a great piece of beef--no wonder she's smiling!

Dead Milkmen: Right Wing Pigeons--

This is from 1985 and there is no video, just a picture of the album cover, and yet--

This is pretty much an accurate summation of things.

Jukebox--Feeling Good

Lately I have been loving this song.

You need a cute--I will show you this video with a dog and deer:

That's adorable--I don't care who you are!