I am thinking that my site looks like unholy buttsauce in IE 7. Y/N?
Looks like Furryfox and IE6 only for now. Safari users? Y/N? Opinions?
If no opinion on this matter, then I want an essay on if you could have one food come out of a spigot on your living room wall, O what would it be? Bonus: which is a better tattoo, Abe Vigoda or Susan B. Anthony in hotpants. TY.
So, yesterday I got cracking on a new Rancho Asshole tradition: homemade limoncello. It is bananas-easy to make. You should try it. I am using this recipe.
My first step was to go to the likka sto and get some rotgut. I was making inquires of a clerk and out of nowhere an extremely helpful manager-type materialized and commanded me to buy 100 proof vodka, so “it still has some kick to it when you’re done.” People at the Wallingford Liquor Store are always so flippin cheerful. I love it.
I brought it home and ran it through my hapless Brita five times, for maximum purity. Thus, I upgraded lowly “Prince Alexis” brand vodka to “Demi-God Alexis” brand.
Then you zest a schisse-load of lemons. I had Companion juice them after, because as it turns out, no lemon juice is used in this process. Then it all goes in the goofy jar that looks like a barrel. Because I said so and I will turn this blog around.
Apparently, I am supposed to agitate the jar for the next two weeks, add a bunch of simple syrup, and then, BAM, limoncello three weeks after that. Who wants to invite me to their party now? I thought so.
Yesterday I went to Bliss Soaps on Broadway with a blogfriend, who is now a IRL friend, Krumpy. Funny how that works. Anyway, the owner of Bliss Soap was in and I remembered him from when he was in a kiosk at Northgate. The owner made more off-color jokes in five minutes than I have heard in years. And he gave us sweet deals and was crazy-friendly to boot. I saw maximum deliciousness with minimum ingredients. There was an enigma of a bath bomb that was a tub tea bag wrapped in a bath bomb dipped in cocoa butter. Whoa.
Today I got asked permission to have one old story reprinted on an online literary journal. Four people this week told me I was too boring to be on television. And the number of poos my diaper-rebellious child deposited on the floor before naptime was two. Which is also the number of shots I just put into my Red Bull, which is preventing me from stabbing myself in the head. This rocktail is against all advice from those fuckers at Real Simple. Why would I listen to something that ungrammatically calls itself REAL Simple, anyway? Poopbubblers.
PS: My landlady called today and said she changed her mind about selling the place! She said she felt bad about pressuring us and will wait to sell for another year-plus. Oh, FNIF, down payment here we come! With God as my witness, I will never go without crenelation again. Thanks for concerned comments and emails. I think I love you all…but that might just be the Red Boo talking.
In Other News
Last night I was on the phone with Halo, which kept me up too late but was some stress-relieving, pee-inducing fun times. I have long maintained that when I sell five books and am in a position to never have a “real” job ever again, unless I choose to, I will get some rad knuckle tattoos.
“You mean five books, or five copies of one book?” Halo asked. Hur hur hur, Halo.
“And I am going to get some of them horn implants,” I said, with the sole purpose of needling Companion, who was egregiously eavesdropping under the pretense of making quiche crusts. This prompted a panicked look from him. He quickly returned with this frantically hand-written note:
This is a threat? Companion, have you even seen the inside of my Adult Drawer? You should have threatened to take away quiche.
Is it too soon for Abe Vigoda’s head superimposed on Martha Stewart’s body again? Of course not. Don’t be stoopid.
I made a chicken planter this weekend.
Occasionally someone emails me and asks me something. I was on a tear last night, so I thought I’d share with the rest of the class. I wrote an email about how to dye a little kid’s hair crazy colors. Thanks for writing.
Over here we use Special Effects. I don’t know if you live in a large or small town, but often this can be purchased at a “punk rock barber shop” type place. You shouldn’t pay much more than ten dollars for it. A place like the punk mall store chain “Hot Topic” will absolutely gouge you for 15 dollars or more, which is okay if you just want one bottle one time. I do not recommend the “classic” brands Punky Color or Manic Panic, because in my experience Special Effects has at least four times the staying power, and this is with a normal shampoo regimen.
Maybe sometimes you have wondered to yourself what I was up to when I was on my court-ordered “blog hiatus” back in ’04 and ’05. You know, I tried to branch out. I got a lot of different offers. Mostly from places like boat shows, and the opening of the new Office Maxx in U-Village. It’s cool, I can cut a mean ceremonial ribbon.
The one project I got involved with that I’m sorry never took off was my album. It dropped in early ’05. Oh well. Maybe it’s not too late for it to become an underground hit.
Paris is out.
ETA: 6/8: WAIT! PARIS IS BACK IN! Oh, there is a Satan after all.
This actually made me laugh. It’s so rare to find well-done parody. But can I say I hate YouTube’s new feature of making other videos popup on mouseover? As if people need more help being ADD.
Dun dun DUNNNN.
The cloning project, it worked.