Three drinks

Guinness Ice Cream\Float:

1 cup water
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup Guinness stout

In a heavy saucepan whisk together the water and the cornstarch and simmer the mixture over moderate heat, whisking, for 2 minutes. Add the milks, the salt, and the sugar, heat the mixture over moderately low heat, whisking, for 1 to 2 minutes, or until the sugar is dissolved, and remove the pan from the heat. Let the mixture cool completely, stir in the Guinness, and freeze the mixture in an ice-cream freezer.

Put a couple scoops in a pint glass, then top with Guinness.

Perfect dessert after a big bowl of Guinness with a few pints of Guinness.


Sputnik:

1. Take a tall glass, known in Russian as a stakan.
2. Fill it halfway with water.
3. Fill the rest of the glass with vodka.
4. Mix.
5. Drink half of the glass.
6. Repeat the steps 3-5 until you hear "Beep, beep, beep" inside your head.


Absinthe Mandrake:

1. Take a tall glass, known in my house as dirty.
2. Fill it halfway with Absinth King Gold (100mg of thujone)
3. Place two sugarcubes on a spoon, dunk them in the absinthe.
4. Fish out the soaked sugarcubes because you're a moron and let them slip.
5. Light the sugar on fire and let burn for a minute or so.
6. Once the sugar has carmelized, plunge the flaming spoon into the glass, stirring quickly.
7. Turn off the smoke alarm.
8. Drop two cubes of ice into the glass. Hold another against where your left eyebrow used to be.
9. Fill the remainder of the glass with Mandrake Liqueur.
10. Stir and drink.

Dine Alone

It’s a cinch to pass the time with you
but hard to pass the time alone, can you take it?
And it’s true, true, the couple next to you think you look strange.
Alone, what are your aims, or do you have any?

We all are, when all is said and done, alone. We may have someone special, many friends, family, pets, but when the lights go out we find ourselves - by ourselves. You cannot, and should not, rely on anybody besides yourself to get through the day to day exercise we call living. Yes, having support and companionship helps, but it still boils down to the individual to make the effort to see another day. And sometimes that effort can be tough, even too much. Luckily, I haven't had to strain myself beyond my limits to reach that sometimes lofty goal. I'm comfortable in my skin (mostly) and don't mind going it alone. Sometimes I even prefer it.

Avoid confusion. You always know,
always know how much your paying.
I concentrate on, on what the people say,
the couple next to me.

When you're self-reliant, you appreciate some things a bit more than others who have a set support system. You know the cost and consequence of your actions. While, in contrast, those that are in a partnership must take into consideration how their decisions will affect their "better half". Never knowing exactly how they will react to, say, your sudden desire to fly to Vegas for the weekend or spend the afternoon reading a book. Your whims are no longer whimsical. They now have repercussions beyond your own satisfaction or fulfillment. You cannot simply take a break because that ripples the pond as well.

Pass the salt, pour it in my wounds.
It looks like you have no friends,
can’t keep up with the new trends.
Sorry, sorry for myself I don’t agree.
No, I always go out eating with my best friends.
It’s less than normal.

But being insular has it's drawbacks as well. It's costly deeper down. The loneliness can be shrugged off but you still feel as something is missing. We need those ripples on the pond, as we are social animals. Which is why even the most antisocial people still have the desire to connect with others in some way. We need to share, be it a soft caress or a patient ear. It takes the burdens we ignore and spreads them across a wider base. Something as simple as the lull of the television turned on in another room becomes comfort, as the oppressive silence without can shock one into realizing, and dreading, the fact that they are alone. Alone and accountable.

Avoid confusion. You always know,
always know how much your paying.
I concentrate on, on what the people say,
the couple next to me.

Which is not to say that being single is some sort of curse or malady, far from it. For some it's a conscious choice, a lifestyle if you will. You know what you have and are happy with whatever that may be. The price paid can be summed up easily, as you don't have to weigh anything against another's wants or desires. When you get the check everything is accounted for and in plain sight. No hidden fees or value added incentives. There can be no fine print when you wrote the contract.

Avoid confusion. You always know,
always know how much your paying.
I concentrate on, on what the people say.
I think at times.

This, like life, is just a test.

My favorite bacon recipe

This is a complicated process, but well worth it.

1. Go to the Burgundy Room on Cuhuenga, drink three pints of Guinness. Listen to Maria (The Duchess of Cheer) spin oldschool punk and r&b.

2. Stumble across the street to The Room, enter through back alley and order two more pints of Guinness. Say hi to Steve and ask him when his band is playing. Tell him you'll see him there, then forget when they're playing.

3. Lurch over to Beauty Bar, order a vodka tonic (as they don't have Guinness). Hit on Tara Reid (again). Get shot down (again). Smoke half a pack of camels.

4. Somehow wind up at Bar Sinister, via Star Shoes. Pay an extra ten bucks at the door because you're wearing jeans and not gothgear. Order a Heineken (no Guinness here either) and a vodka cranberry for your new friend dancing on the box wearing nothing but fishnets and electrical tape. Make the mistake of going upstairs to watch a 300 lb. woman being flogged by an even more porcine sweaty man in leather. Some things you cannot unsee. Flee. Sheepishly sneak back upstairs to retrieve drink.

5. Play pinball in the alley on your way out, you being the ball and varius spooky kids as the flippers. Say you're sorry, even if you're not.

6. Buy a hotdog wrapped in bacon as you wait for your cab to take you home.

Serves one.

Stoned

Sharon Stone blames US President George W Bush for the absence of a lesbian kissing scene in Catwoman - because of the current conservative climate in America.

Moron, I mean more... here

"Puritanical streak".

Requiem for a Dream, Brown Bunny, Monster's Ball, Bad Santa. Yup, REALLY puritanical behavior.

Brown Bunny, directed by and starring a right wing staunch republican, has a film who's climactic scene is full on fellatio. Not only is a graphic bj in the flick, but it had a fucking BILLBOARD on Sunset with a shot of the director receiving said blowjob.

"How can you have us in the movie and not have us kiss?"

How about "IT WASN'T IN THE FUCKING SCRIPT YOU WASHED UP HOSEBAG!"?

Hey Sharon, it's also a waste to have Natalie Portman in the Star Wars prequels and not having her do at least one scene where she's getting tag teamed by old Ben and young Ani. I really don't think I can blame Bush for that though, I blame Lucas for lacking "vision".

She's complaining because her idea of controversy may inject some life into what's left of her "career" as an actress. A cheap ploy, playing on the tired cliche' that two women making out is edgy. It wasn't in the script, so for her to blame stodgy old men for her not getting to lock lips with the other brainiac in that flick is simply laughable.

She's a has-been who has no cultural relevance other than being known as the cheap tawdry whore that claims to have not known that her cooch was going to be shown two stories high in Basic Instinct. Hey genius, did you not notice the camera was at crotch height and you forgot to wear knickers when that leg of yours did Kareem Abdul Jabar proud with that skyhook? She then complained to the press that she was "violated". Hey, so was I when I caught that piece of shit "Sliver" but you don't see me complaining. Well, now you do but you get my point.

The fact that Catwoman is a complete failure makes her statement even MORE hilarious. Does she think that some cheap fake lesbian action would put more suckers into the seats? No, they'd just P2P that scene just like they're snagging the BJ clip from Gallo's pretentious piece of shit "Brown Bunny", skipping all the existential tripe and heading straight for the only action offered.

Fuck she annoys me.

Kids today are being robbed

My favorite carwashes as a kid were the ones with the fabric "tentacles" that would sway back and forth, gripping the car in it's deep sea scariness. I miss those. These "touchless" carwash joints today just ain't got the same tension. The old style were exactly like going on a ride at a park. My brother and I used to make up plots, characters, themes, as my mom's rusty yellow ScoutII would be dragged, kicking and screaming, through the horror flick that was the classic carwash. While I appreciate the fact that my antenna will stay firmly attached, the child inside of me weeps a little every time I give my car a bath.

Good\Bad in the LA scene

Good:

Diversity - Whatever you want, whenever you want.

Decent venues - Big clubs, small dives, arenas, houseparties, what have you. As long as I'm not driving.

Bar hopping - Catch Butch Walker for a great show, then walk next door and have the bartender buy YOU a drink at the Burgandy Room, or beauty Bar, or Star Shoes, head over to King King... all within a few blocks. And this is citywide.

Eyecandy - C'mon, it's LA.

We live here - It's cool to see the guys who rocked you last night getting rocked right next to you the following evening.

Bad:

Scenesters, hipsters, "indie than thou" - again, it's LA.

"We're going on at 10" - No you fucking aren't. You're going on at midnight. Don't lie to me.

FLAKES - "I'm so there!" No you weren't. And if you say you're picking me up at 8, BE AT MY HOUSE AT 8! Just because the band lies to you doesn't make it okay for you to lie to me.

Eyecandy - C'mon, it's LA. While fun to look at, be prepared to hit your head as you dive into the shallow end of the pool. Vapidness abounds.

$6 beers - What the hell? Casey's in the Valley next to the Cobalt Cafe' has $2 gin and tonics, why am I expected to pay six bucks for a bud light?

Silver Lake - Look, I love Silver Lake. I really do. But if one more of you nu-wave hookers tries to cop an attitude about gentrification and all the plebians invading your space, I may have to remind you that your "scene" peaked 5 years ago and Echo Park is still laughing at you. Now give me a ride to the Drawing Room, because the Short Stop and 4100 suck ass now because I'm an elitist hypocritical jerk as well.

There should be some comments about music in there as well, shouldn't there?

language

I took two years of spanish, two years of french, and two years of latin in high school.

Which means I do not speak spanish, french, or latin.

I do, however, qualify to work in Canada if I want to skip the country for any reason.

Sorry about all that

I think I'll leave off on political discussions for a bit. Right now I'm in no mood to be positive, and yet the spirit of Ray Charles is compelling me not to be negative, which is how I usually operate when confronted with the stupidity thrust at me from both sides. It's just that.. I feel... you see... there's just so much... I think I'm sick of the news and politics. Yes, that's it. I've been far too deep in the mire of illusion for me to pull out, to approach these topics is to be sucked inevitably into standing for one "side" or another. I think a week is quite sufficient a break. I need a few days to ponder, and to scrape some of the mud that's been flung about that's seeped down my waders.

I will say this though:

There is something intellectually wrong with a person who claims the terrorists hate us for our freedom, then proposes that the best way to defeat the terrorists is to remove the very freedom of speech they supposedly despise.