Monday, October 17, 2011

Busted

And I hold on hope
And I will let you choke
on that noose around your neck

Shit's fucked up, you know? Like, you think it's fuckin' goin' good- and it fuckin' ain't. I don't get it.
You go out, you do shit, shit gets done, but really, it doesn't. It never fucking does, and it never fucking will.
You spin your wheels, day in, day out, nothing ever really happens. You're fucking stuck. You're a fucking useless piece of shit. You look around, and everyone around you is fucking changing, and you're fucking the same. You're fucking stuck in the mud that you don't even remember falling face fucking first into. And you won't get the fuck out. You're gonna have to get pulled out by someone fucking better than you, more fucking successful- fucking something, fucking anything. And it's gonna suck ass when you get out- and you're standing there, covered head to toe in fucking shit. And then what's gonna happen? You're gonna go home, wash the fuck off, and realize you ain't got no goddamned towels, and that this isn't even your fucking house. You fucking loser. You fucking piece of shit. I don't even know what or why or how, but you're there.

And you're fucking stuck.
You're fucking stuck, and I'm fucking sick, and nothing ever changes, shit stays the same, you don't know what the fuck to do. Keep on living the same shit, doing the same shit, being the same shit. You'll always be the same shit. Maybe one day, it'll fall together on it's own. You know, maybe. But you fucking doubt it. That's your fucking problem. You fucking DOUBT. But even when you aren't fucking second guessing every goddamned minute of every goddamned monotonous day, you're still fucking sitting there hating yourself.

You're watching TV. You never change the fucking channel. It's the same shitty sitcom, fucking Nick @ Nite is down your street. It's your fucking life. YOUR FUCKING LIFE. Don't even ask me what the fuck to do- because I don't fucking know, and neither do you. We're all just living through this shit as fast as we can until we fucking die- and then what happens? An eternity of literally being stuck in the mud. Before, I was fucking kidding. But now we're gonna all get fucking buried and fucking rot. I mean, it's not like we're all not fucking rotting right now. You are a goddamned apple in a sweltering hot car, with fucking bricks instead of tires. You aren't even the car. You're the rotted piece of crusty shit in the front seat. A fucking raccoon would dig his ass into the car, look at your stupid ass, and walk the fuck out. Even a fucking woodland critter doesn't want shit to do with you.

I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. But you don't either. Or you. Or you. Or you, you motherfucker in the corner. You're barefooted on the street, asking people for shoes. No one wants to give you any shoes, because they all see what a piece of shit you've become, what a piece of shit they are, what a piece of shit every fucking thing you and me and they and I have ever known, done, wanted, thought, become, became, what the fuck ever really is.

It's not gonna change. There's no fucking use crying about it. I mean, shit man. You know? I think you fucking do. You think you fucking do. But you don't, and you never will. I don't even know what I'm talking about, crying about, whining about, going on and on in the same goddamned fucking circle day fucking in and day fucking out. And for what? For nothing. Bullshit, I say. It's all fucking BULLSHIT. You know it, I know it, your fucking mom knew it the day she laid eyes on your ass.

FUCKING FIX IT. I don't know. Shit, I really don't. I'm just going on in circles, triangles, squares, cubes, on the same fucking track, the same fucking speed, I'm on repeat. I'm on shuffle. You're only one song. That song that was good a few years back, but now when it gets played on the radio, people just change it to fucking static so they don't have to hear your shit. I'd rather listen to coat hangers banging on a chalkboard than to listen to your fucking bitching.

Stuck, in the mud, on repeat. You're beaten, you're done. You're dead. You're the squirrel and you're the fucking car, and you're laying in the road dead, and even the fucking crows aren't gonna fuck with you. You aren't worth fucking with. No one is, really. I mean think about it. REALLY FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT. Has anyone ever really done anything? I mean, really? No, everyone fucking dies in the end, and we're stuck. We're fucking stuck here. We are biological miracles and we can't even. You can't. I don't. Fuck you.

7 billion people on the planet. S-E-V-E-N fuckin' billion. And what are we all doing? Not a goddamned thing.

You get up in the morning, and it doesn't matter. You do shit all day, that you think is fucking important, that you think is fucking impressive, that you think will somehow, somewhere, maybe, perhaps, doubtfully, fucking help you. And it doesn't. You go to bed at night, and that doesn't matter either. You're just laying there, almost fucking dead, but your hearts still beating, and you're going, you're going, you're gone.

And now you're awake. You're dreaming. Isn't this all a fucking dream. No one fucking knows. Everything is just one giant waste of time fucking bullshit.

I love you, you love me, we're all fucking lying about it. What actually matters? Fucking nothing. What makes you happy? Really? That's a stupid fucking answer, and you're fucking stupid for fucking telling me that. You know I don't give a shit. I never gave a shit. You aren't worth shit.

You're done, I'm out, you're gonna get in my car and drive it over a goddamned cliff- and I won't even get the fucking insurance money out of it, because I fucking pushed you. Someone fucking pushed all of us. Never in the right direction, never for the right reasons, never for fucking anything at all. Just for shits, just for kicks, get these bitches off my dicks. Goddamned, I'm tired of fucking spinning. You're a busted down carousel. You're one squeaky horse. No little kids play with you, and adults just walk by and shake their fucking heads. They remember what it's like- but do you? No, you fucking fried out piece of shit. You don't. And you never will.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Recipes.

These are recipes to my favorite things to make in the kitchen, even if they are lazy dips. No offense, but yours probably aren't going to come out as good as mine, because I mostly cook with a recipe in my head, and then taste my food about 8 times to make sure it's coming out alright. You should do the same. Experiment with flavors, but don't mix Jalepenos and chocolate, or any other weird combination. Keep it simple. You aren't Anthony Bourdain, so don't try it.


The chicken noodle soup recipe is not easy. I am warning you now. It's a few hours of hard work and waiting patiently. You probably won't get it right on the first try. I didn't.


Hummus
You will need a blender and a large spoon.
1 Lemon
2 Cloves of Garlic
1 Can of Chickpeas (Garbanzo Beans)
A dash of Olive Oil or Sesame Oil
Tahini (optional)


Drain the chickpeas well, and dump them into your blender. Crush the garlic, and add it to the blender. Squeeze in the juice of the lemon, add a dash of your oil. If you are using Tahini, add this now. Blend until smooth. If the mixture is dry, add more oil or a bit of water. Great when served with pita chips, carrots, or Naan. 


Chicken Tikka Masala
Plain Yogurt, enough to cover chicken.
1lb boneless chicken, cubed
1 8oz can of Tomato Paste
1 8oz can coconut milk, or 1 cup heavy cream.
1 whole onion, chopped, diced, however you like your onions.
Roughly 2 teaspoons each of:
Curry powder, coriander, cumin, lemon juice, cinnamon (very important!), ginger, garlic, salt, black pepper. Fresh spices are stronger than powdered ones, so if your spice comes from a can, you may want to add more.


Mix one teaspoon of each spice into a bowl with the yogurt. Cover your chicken in this and bake it at 350 until the chicken is done. The yogurt and spices will be sorta like a crust on the outside of the chicken.


Sautee the onions in olive or sesame oil, or butter, if you prefer. They should still be crisp, but not -too- crisp. A middle between soft and fresh.


Meanwhile, prepare your sauce. In a saucepan, whisk the following together:
Tomato paste, coconut milk or heavy cream, curry, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, ginger, garlic, salt, and black pepper. Cook over low heat to avoid burning and to allow the spices to make the sauce fragrant. Taste it, and if you want more spices, add them. I usually use way more curry, cinnamon and garlic than it says.


When the chicken is done, dump it into the sauce and stir it all together. Lay the sauteed onions on top.


Chicken tikka is great with naan, pita bread, or any kind of fragrant rice, such as Jasmine or wild rice. It is also good with a fork.




Chicken Noodle Soup, or, My Specialty and Favorite Food Ever.
This soup has a bit of a background, and is not for the faint of heart to attempt. It is bad for you. It is a lot of work. But it is also the most delicious thing you will ever put betwixt your supple lips.


When I was but a small, small child, my great grandmother on my Dad's side, Madge Elliot, used to make this soup for me. I would go over to her house and drink RC Cola and play on her slot machine that Grandpa kept on top of the fridge, and Grandma would fill the house up with the smell of boiling chicken soup. Sometimes (rarely) I would help with the kneading the dough, and she would slice the noodles into perfect little strips of delicious. 


When I got older and my grandma died, my dad took over cooking it. He was always really anal about the width of the noodles and it was very precise. Then, I turned about 16, and I learned to cook it. 


We all mostly use the same recipe when we make our soup, but I like my noodles to be fat, irregular and dumpling-like, whereas my dad always has skinny, precise noodles.


The ingredients are highly important, follow this closely.
(Makes enough noodles to eat for days, and with enough left over to freeze.)
1 whole chicken, bone-in.
5 cups all purpose flour- NOT SELF RISING OR YOU WILL FUCK UP SO BAD.
2 sticks butter
Salt, pepper
Roughly 1 dozen eggs, depending on how dry the noodle mix is
(I like to use 12 yolks and only 6 or so whites, because the yolks are richer. Save the whites though, you might need them to moisten up later)
Water
Chicken broth
Chicken cubes, if desired


Put the chicken in the biggest pot you have and cover it with water. Add in the chicken broth and cubes, and let that chicken start boiling. It'll take a while, so you'll have plenty of time to do your noodles, don't worry.


Homemade egg noodles may seem like a daunting task, but they are really fucking easy, actually.
Mix the flour and eggs and a pinch of salt in a bowl.  Get your hands dirty, and knead it all up into a fat, hard yellow ball. Keep mixing. You'll know when it's ready to be rolled out, I hope, because I have no way of describing it to you.


Dump a bunch of all purpose flour on some newspaper, or a cheesecloth, or countertop, or whatever you're gonna be using a rolling pin on. Spread it all over so that the dough ball doesn't stick to it. Rub some on your rolling pin too.


Roll out a big, flat circle. You big flat circle should be quite thin, but not thin enough that the dough is transparent and falls apart easily. But still very thin. These noodles swell to about double their current size when cooked.


Now that you have a big, flat circle, you've come to the part that always makes me and my dad get into an arguement! Take a smooth edged knife, I am not picky on if it is a filet knife or a pizza cutter, as long as it isn't serrated, and start slicing up your noodles to the desired width. I like my noodles on the thicker side, and I don't worry if they are different sizes, but my dad likes his noodles to be thin and even. It's up to you how you cut them. Hell, you could even do little designs, I don't care.


When the noodles are cut, start laying them on a plate or bowl somewhere to be used in just a second. When you're all done with that, go to the sink and dig the flour eggy goo mess out from your finger nails and arms. Now clean up all the flour goo that's all over your floor and counter. 


Go watch TV.


Come back.


Check your chicken. It should be done. If it's not, go watch some more TV.


Ok, this is assuming that the chicken is done. If not, you should probably watch TV again. I always find that a good movie helps, because this shit takes a while.


Chicken done? Great! Now, you gotta find a way to get that bad boy out of the pot WITHOUT DRAINING THE WATER! That's right! Find some way to dig out a whole chicken from a vat of boiling water without spilling it. You need that water. That water is your chicken stock, and oh man, you want it. You want it BAD.
Personally, I always end up getting someone to help me and using a series of tongs, spatulas, and colanders. Try not to splash boiling water on your face or spill it all down your shirt.


You now have a chicken in a bowl, I hope. I am sure you have noticed by now that the chicken is a bit on the hot side. Very fucking hot, in fact. Run it under some cold water, cause you're gonna have to pick it apart and I hate burning my fingers on chicken. Get as much meat as you can. Don't worry about organs or spines or anything like that, but I do prefer dark meat as well as white meat in my chicken soup. If you only like white meat, that's ok too. Just have good chicken soup sized chunks of chicken, or strips, or gobs, whatever. Just pick it apart. Cool. Throw the bones out (except the wishbone!) and let the freshly picked chicken bits sit there, and wash your hands off. 


Remember that boiling water that I told you was so super important to keeping? Now you'll see why. 
Heat it back up to boiling (it shouldn't have cooled down much) and start dropping in your noodles, one to two at a time. Stir them out of the way, and drop more in. Drop drop drop, stir, drop drop drop, stir. Etc. Continue doing that until you have a whole pot of noodles. If you need more water, add it, but add another chicken cube as well. 


Let the noodles boil for about 20 minutes, and go watch some TV.


Stop watching TV! Add the chicken to the noodle pot. You can dump it all in at once. Cover it, and let it simmer for about 20 more minutes. During the final 20 minutes, drop in the two sticks of butter and a few dashes of pepper. Yes, two WHOLE STICKS OF BUTTER. That's why I said it was bad for you.


Let it simmer just a little bit longer, until the butter is all melted, give the soup one more good stir, and eat it.
And, not to be gross, but it really is better if you let it sit on the stove overnight with a lid on. The broth thickens up.


Enjoy!




Chicken Parmeasean


1lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, thawed.
2 eggs
1 cup of the powdered parmesean cheese that comes in a can
1 tablespoon garlic powder (again, the canned kind)
1 tablespoon oregano (the canned stuff still works best)
a dash of salt and a dash of pepper
1 cup flour


Mix the dry ingredients together in a bowl. Scramble the eggs up in another bowl. Dip the chicken into the egg, then in the flour mix, then in the egg, then in the flour mix. Make sure it's very well coated. Do that until all your chicken chunks are well breaded. 


Now, pop 'em in the oven. 350 until they're done. You can add extra grated cheese here if you'd like.


Now, for the sauce. You can either be lazy and use Ragu, or you can make your own sauce, using the following:
1 16oz can tomato paste
1 can of V8 ( I really love V8 in tomato sauce)
1 chopped bell pepper
1 onion
4 cloves garlic
1 tblspoon lemon juice
Parsley, oregano, and ciliantro (optional, because it tastes like soap), to taste. These can be fresh or dried.
Olive oil
Salt and pepper


Sautee in olive oil or boil your chopped onion and chopped bell pepper. Drain them well.
Add them into a pot with all the other stuff, stir it up, and let it simmer for a bit.


While that's simmering, you can also boil some dry or fresh noodles so that it's like Olive Garden, if you don't want to eat just chicken and sauce.




Your chicken is done, your sauce is done, and your noodles are al dente, so now you get to set it all up. This is one dish where presentation is important, so listen closely. Drain your noodles and stir them with a bit of olive oil so they don't turn into a clumpy shitty mess. Place a bed of noodles on a plate, add one peice of breaded chicken, and ladle some sauce over it, neatly. Now add a bit of shredded parmesean cheese and a large parsley leaf to garnish. Gorgeous!




Meatloaf


Meatloaf is fun to cook, and super easy.


1lb ground beef, thawed. I like lean ground beef or ground chuck myself, hamburger meat is nasty.
1 small pack of Ritz crackers, or half a large pack. You can also use half a pack of Saltines. Doesn't matter.
1 whole onion, chopped.
1 egg
2 cloves garlic
Plenty of Worcestshire sauce


1 brown gravy packet *you can also make your own gravy using a roux made from the beef drippings, but that's kinda hard to get exactly right, so just use the packet*


Mix it all up in a bowl, crushing the crackers. Leave some chopped onion out. Now, either press all the meat mix into a pan, or actually make a loaf and and lay it on a cookie sheet. Mash it up really well. Add the extra onions on top, and bake it at 375 until it's done. The meat will be brown and the onions will be crispy. 


Make the gravy.


When the meatloaf is done and you want to eat it, slice it carefully and then cover it in gravy.




Guacamole
2-4 avacados
Black pepper
4 cloves garlic
Half a lemon worth of juice
a few teaspoons of Olive Oil
salt


Mash the avacado, add everything in, mix it up.
If you like more avacado, add less olive oil. If you like a creamier dip, use more oil. 


Great on tortilla chips, any kind of mexican food, or toast.




Grilled Chicken
Whatever sort of chicken you want
Italian dressing
VINEGAR
Lemon pepper.


Mix vinegar and dressing. Marinade the chicken in it for an hour or so. Grill. 
As you grill, brush the chicken with marinade often. Shake lemon pepper on there to give it a nice crust.
If you want to be a purest, zest your own lemon and use cracked black pepper. It's better that way, but sometimes you just get lazy, you know?




Grilled Pizza
You can either use a frozen pizza like Tombstone (thinner crust, not deep dish) and just grill it, or you can make your own.
I highly advise using a premade thin/standard crust if you make your own. Making your own pizza dough to grill fucking sucks and it sticks and burns and shapes badly. Not worth it.


For making your own pizza, brush the bottom (grill side) with olive oil.
Add whatever you want, sauce or no sauce, gravy, sour cream, whatever. If you want pepperoni and cheese, add that. If you want chicken and avacado, add that.
It doesn't matter. Pineapple and jalepeno? That's ok too. Just be sure that whatever toppings you add are precooked- no raw chicken.


The important part is HOW you grill it. Make sure your coals are cool, not glowing orange, but not about to go out either.
Propane is stupid, so don't grill a pizza with it.


Place your pizza over the coals, and close the grill. Be sure to check it every now and then to make sure it doesn't burn on the bottom. Turn the pizza often to ensure even heating. It shouldn't take more than 15 minutes per pizza. You'll be able to tell when the toppings are done and the bottom is very, very slightly, blackened. The smoke and coals will give the pizza a really good flavor and texture.




Green Beans
Lots of green beans, strung and snapped
half a stick of butter
chicken broth


Put it all in a crock pot, not too much broth, just enough to cover the chicken. Let it cook for about 5 hours. Ta-da!




Spinach Dip
1 pound fresh or frozen spinach, if fresh, chop it up good, if frozen, buy it pre-chopped
Olive oil or butter
1 lb cream cheese
1 container sour cream
4 cloves garlic
1 small jar of artichoke hearts
Mozzerella or Parmeasean cheese, or both. It's up to you.


Sautee the spinach, garlic, and artichokes with olive oil or butter.
Soften the cream cheese in the microwave, and add it to an over safe baking dish that seems good for dips. Mix in the sour cream, and some of the cheese. Now add the spinach mixture, and stir the fuck out of it. Mix it well, make it creamy and delicious.
Flatten the top out with a spoon, cover it with cheese, and bake it at 350 for 15 minutes. Just enough to make it warm and goopy.


Now! Turn on the broiler and very carefully brown the cheese on top until it bubbles a bit.


Eat with pita bread, chips, or on pasta. 




7 layer dip
So easy, a caveman could do it.


1 can refried beans
lots of guacamole
lots of shredded cheddar cheese
1 jar of salsa
1 chopped onion
2 cups cooked white rice
1/2 cup shredded lettuce


Mix the white rice and some salsa together. Make that the bottom layer in a bowl. Next, add in the refried beans, then the guacamole. As you work towards the top of the pile, add your onions, lettuce, salsa, and cheese.


Shove it in the fridge until your stoner friends come over, then pull out a bag of tortilla chips.
Have an argument over whether or not it's really 7 layers, or only six because cheese doesn't count. 




Beef Stroganoff
1 package dry egg noodles, the wide flat, kind
1lb beef tips or 1lb ground beef. I like beef tips for this, personally. But it's your choice.
1 container of sour cream
1 pack of brown gravy
1 small can of beef broth, or beef cubes
2 cloves garlic
1 small onion


Boil the noodles, drain, set aside.


Saute the meat with the garlic and onions until done. Set aside.


Make your gravy.


In a large pot, add the meat, noodles, sour cream, beef broth, and gravy. Mix it all up. That wasn't so hard, now was it?




Cornbread
CAST IRON PAN. CAST IRON PAN. CAST IRON PAN. Get one from your grandma if you don't have one. Then go buy one when you get done.


4 cups self rising corn meal
2 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
3tblspoons of butter


I hope to hell you know how to use cast iron cookware for this. If not, don't even fucking bother and just make Jiffy mix. It's just as shitty as cornbread not cooked in cast iron.


In your cast iron pan, melt the butter on top of the stove, while preheating your oven to 400.
While the butter is melting, mix the eggs, corn meal, and buttermilk together.


Once the butter is melted, dump it all into the cast iron pan full of melted butter. Pop that bad bitch in the oven for about 25 minutes, and check on it. Once the edges are a crusty golden brown and the top has just started to get brown, it's probably done. If in doubt, let it cook another 5 minutes. 


Now, get a plate, and flip the pan upside down on to it. The butter should allow the cornbread to just slide right out. If not, you did it wrong or your pan wasn't seasoned. Not my problem.


Don't wash that cast iron pan in soap either. Your grandma will skin you if you do.




Shepards Pie
1 lb ground beef
4-5 cups mashed potato
1 cup corn
1 cup peas
1 cup carrots
1 chopped onion
Worcestshire sauce
Gravy packet (Man, I use a lot of gravy packets.)
Melted butter


Sautee everything but the mashed potatos and gravy.
Put it in a casserole dish in a flat layer of meat, carrots, onions, corn, and peas. On top of that, layer mashed potatoes. Brush the potatoes with butter.


Bake for 45 minutes at 400 degrees, checking often. You don't want to burn the potatoes.


Make gravy. Cover it in gravy. Eat.


And for the love of god, don't put cheese on it. We're not in fucking Nebraska. 

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

A list. I guess.

Things I've done lately:


I might have mentioned this- I don't really fucking remember, honestly- but I went to go see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, in 3D, at the midnight premier, in costume. I was a Gryffindor student. I wanted to talk to the news people, as they were interviewing people in costumes. Oculous reparo!


Managed my eye hair. Brows and lashes. I waxed and plucked, and measured my eyelashes. That's right. I took the time out of my day to measure my fucking eyelashes. For the record, they're 6/8ths of an inch. That's pretty good. I probably spend too much time and money on my eyelashes. Eh.


I've tanned a lot. Apparently, being tan makes you like Snooki? What the fuck. I'm golden brown, like a well-done piece of toast- not orange like a traffic cone. There is a difference, please don't be a hater on my precancerous skin, ok?


Gotten my car AC fixed. Please scroll down to see my previous plights and perils of car air conditioning. However, now it works on all four settings, Barely Blowing, Low-Blow, Rather Drafty, and Nazi Wind Tunnel settings, respectively. It also turns off. And then back on. Which is a huge improvement. 


I've read about 50 new books lately. I'd list them all, but I don't want to. I highly recommend, however, the following: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs, and The Magicians - Lev Grossman. 
I am also rather excited for November Eigth, at which date the final book in the Inheritance Cycle comes out. On that same note, I am ashamed to admit that a mere ten days later, I am going to see Breaking Dawn. In theaters. But, you know, not in a costume. How did I get on that topic? Go read some books. Another good one is Apathy and Other Small Victories - Paul Neilan. If you're really interested in the books I read, I might type a list one day, as I read more books than anyone I know or have ever met, or probably ever will meet- and if you would care to contest this claim, I would be more than happy to make a bet that I read more books than you- and then win said bet. My two favorite things. Books and gambling. Again, where was I?


I have an interview coming up. Hopefully I get it, and I will be the new office assistant at Clegg's Termite and Pest Control on Haywood Rd. I think I can assist a pest control office. Hi, my name is Spenser, would you like a can of Raid? Perfect- they should hire me already.


I quit smoking Newports. They were making me cough up some pretty gross green lung butter, and talk like a frog being squeezed. Cough hackhack. Point being, I've switched to Marlboro Smooths, because I am a goddamned cowboy- and don't you fuckin' forget it.


I completed my Diamond and Pearl Pokedex. That's right. I have all 487 Pokemon- from Bulbasaur to Giratina. And most of them I caught legitimately! Except for like, Vespiquen, but that is because I have not the patience to sit in front of a tree for 35 hours and hope for the right Pokemon to show up. Cheaters always win.


My Chihuahua Morris and I made a pilgrimage to Florida. It was hot and I had a panic attack in Ikea. Nothing of any other real interest happened on this trip. Other than my air conditioning quitting halfway down, thus leaving me to roast like a little girl ham for about 6 hours. I love tanning beds, but sitting in one for more than 30 minutes is just about my limit- much less rolling one down the highway at 75mph.


After my trip to Sunny Tropical Florida, I went to Sunny Less Tropical Charleston SC. This trip was only for two days, and I did more stuff than I did on my entire week long trip to Florida. I went to the beach, the SC Aquarium  I befriended a sea-turtle, I bounced on jumpy castles, and I schooled everyone on how to properly annihilate a pot full of crab legs. Maybe I'll show you sometime. Maybe I won't. The key is in knowing how to crack the claws apart. 


And, most importantly, I went into credit card debt for the first time! That's right! Some asshole hit my chihuahua in his Ford F-350, which is really not a fair match by any means, and I had to take him to the vet. His name is Morris, and he wasn't a smart dog before, but after all the brain trauma and fluid draining I had to pay for, he's even dumber. But cute, and alive, and the debt was worth it. I think. Care Credit has notoriously high interest rates, and I do still owe them $506.17, but all's well that ends well. Also, fuck you, you dog hitting asshole. He didn't even stop! 


Other than that, I spend my days perusing Craiglist for employment, looking at myself in the mirror, driving around, smoking profusely, listening to loud music, reading too many books, and organizing my highly organized closet. At this point, I think I just like looking in there. It's like Narnia, only without the fauns, or the witch, or, you know, the other world in the back.


Ta-ta!





Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Ye olde what the fuckery.

Alright, so it's summer, right? Right.
In the summer, people with long hair tend to get trims or haircuts, in order to help stay cooler, right? Right.
So, I got a haircut. In the summer. With me so far?
It's a terrible haircut. Too short, uneven, blahblahblah, I gotta get a weave this weekend.


Now. A year or so ago, my air conditioner blower in my car got napkins from the glove compartment stuck in it, and the blower ceased to work. I've been freezing or burning up for about 11 months now. Today, I found a rat in my car. Apparently, his little body was what was causing my air conditioner to fuck up, and now I have to get a bunch of no-kill traps to get the rest of the rat family out, since they've obviously been living in there for a while. I do not know why.


My air conditioner does a few strange things.
-Doesn't work at all
-Only works on left turns
-Only works on the highest setting
-Only works with outside air blowing in
-Blows hot when I have it set to cold
-Makes a strange noise
-Stops working when I turn right


All of these things, when combined, lead to me being very fucking annoyed everytime I have to drive anywhere, and being an expert at parking in the shade.


What, praytell, does this have to do with a bad haircut, you may ask?


Well, since it IS summertime, I DID get a haircut to keep cool.
Now that I'm fucking scalped, my air conditioner suddenly decides to work perfectly once more.


Seriously. I fucking hate everything. Especially air conditioning. At least I get extensions tomorrow, but with my luck, my AC will blow a fucking gasket and I'll start sweating to death again. 

Shit.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

How to get free hair extensions- get scalped.

I went to Great Clips on Sunday, for a quick cut. I just wanted my hair from boob length to shoulder length, to get the split ends off, and generally polish things up. I was getting a little fuzzy- and as much as I love the 80's, I just don't want to rock a hairstyle from Whitesnake, you know? 
I walk in the door, and an energetic girl with purple hair and a lip ring comes out to greet me. She's gonna be my stylist. Nothing against purple hair, I've had it in highschool quite a few times. I figure, "What the hell? She seems nice, and shoulder length is a pretty hard cut to fuck up." I don't want layers. I don't want dramatic chunky styling. I want my long hair to be less long, because it is summer, and that shit is heavy.
I sit in the chair, we're talking about cookies and how we both like to bake- and 
SNIP.
Oh. Shit. Shoulder length! I said shoulder length! Oh god why do I have a chin length bob?
I think to myself "Ok, it's just hair- maybe she's going to layer it." She didn't layer it. She proceded to cut alllllllll the way around my head, as eight inches of my beautiful curls fall to the floor around me. 
I have a bowl cut. I'm 21 years old, and I have a fucking bowl cut. I look like a fat toddler. 
Now, since I save my scene making for the internet, I kept my composure, paid AND gave her a three dollar tip (not because the haircut warranted it, but because I'm not rude) and walked out the door. I thought, well, maybe it will look good when it dries.
It didn't. Hair shrinks when it gets dry- so instead of chin length- it was at my ears.
What the fuck. I'm going up there again tomorrow, and they ARE giving me hair extensions- no matter how much I have to cry, kick, scream, pinch and bite.
 I look 10 years younger- and when you're 21 and five-foot-four, that's not a good thing. I was asked for my ID to go into a PG-13 movie. I can buy liquor, and since I got scalped, I get carded to go see African Cats? Fuck that.

Harry Potter Changed my Life - AKA Venturing into Hogwarts

At first, I thought Harry Potter was just a bunch of dorky kids running around with sticks and shouting spells at each other.
Like I said- before I started reading them. In 2004, I was 14 years old, and that was the same year I read my first Harry Potter book. Having always loved to read, I couldn't put them down. Sorceror's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, Order of the Phoenix, and all the way up to Half Blood Prince, which I read the final chapter of in my bathtub, crying when Dumbledore died. 
I had become startling attached to the series and to the characters- I couldn't wait for the 7th book to come out. Since finishing the books, I've seen every movie on opening day- and I have the film tickets to prove it. I feel like the characters in Harry Potter are like long lost friends that I knew as a child. They're familiar, comforting, and remind me of home. I can honestly say that Harry Potter is my hero. 
Half Blood Prince left me with a lot of questions- what's gonna happen to Harry? Without Dumbledore, how will Voldemort be destroyed? I had to wait two years to find out- and it was worth it. I got my copy of Deathly Hallows the day it came out- 6am UPS to my doorstep. I proceded to hole up in my room for 15 hours, only coming out to pee and get snacks. I stayed there until the final page was turned. I laughed, I cried, and a lot of the time I was thrown through a loop that I didn't see coming. I still remember reading that book- and it's one of the few books I remember the experience of reading, instead of just what the pages contained. It's a rare thing for reading a book to be an experience, but Harry Potter is just that- and not for me alone, but for millions of fans. I'm not the only one that wears a time turner necklace, and I'm not the only one that goes to midnight launches. I'm not one of the only ones that went to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter on opening day. I was 20 years old, with my 12 year old cousin- I sprinted, full speed, to try and be first in line for everything, while she dragged behind me texting and facebooking about how dorky I am on her Android.
But I didn't care. Harry Potter has helped me to realize that it's not what other people think about you, but that it's important what those whom you care about think, that knowing the difference between right and wrong is important, that it is vital to grow and change. I've grown up with Harry Potter, and he's grown up with me. I can't wait til July 15th, but I know that I'll be crying before the opening theme even ends- just because I don't want my 7 years of magic to end.


I know it never will though- as long as I can read the books, watch the films, and have my Harry Potter posters over my bed.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Debt sucks.

I've edited out personally identifying information. Sorry.

Well. I suppose I should start at the beginning.
At the start of the semester, I only had enough money to pay for part of my full semesters tuition + books- a total sum of roughly 1300 American Dollars. So I paid my first 250$ to My College and bought the required texts for my classes.

A few months roll around, and I began to get bounced-check statements in the mail from FACTS, My College's collection company. Utterly befuddled at this turn of events, thinking that I had three whole months left to pay my tuition, I call the company. They tell me that since I was late on two payments I received no ten-day notice for, that they have charged me the late payments as well as 75 American Dollars in overdraft fees. I am not pleased because 1) I didn't have the money in the account, hence the overdraft, and 2) I didn't get my promised ten days notice so that I could put the money in the account before it becomes drafted out, to try and prevent this exact situation from occurring.

I cancelled my payment plan. However, when you do that, My College holds your grades and denies access to certain features of webadvisor until you have paid them. They also block you from registering from next semesters classes. Keep this in mind, as it is a key point in the saga of Why I Have No Graduation Plan.

So I give them (My College) 250 more American Dollars.
A few weeks roll by, and I begin getting statements in the mail for non-payment. This was expected, as I haven't yet paid them. I work part time to try and pay for my school and my car. My car comes first, because without my car, I wouldn't be going to school. It's a long way  to walk from My House.

Where does this leave us? Having still not paid the remaining dues to My College, I can't register, nor can I access Web Advisor. All I can do is feed more money into the system.
I suppose that, at this point, my graduation plan includes not graduating just yet. I can't afford it. I won't be returning next semester, and that's that. I need to work full time, as I hope to move out of my mother’s house and become independent. I'm nearly 21, and I think it's about time I get to work on starting my own life.

Another integral part of my plan is to learn from past mistakes. I'll get financial aid when I start back to school (and I will return- the question, however, is when.) instead of going blindly into things and hoping that money will sort itself out. It never does. I'll also sign up for fewer classes, thus, being cheaper, and also allowing more time for me to work and pay for them without my grades suffering as they did this semester. Hindsight, which is 20/20, has not-so-kindly informed me of just how much money I've wasted by signing up for classes which I am unable to complete. I'm less than happy about this fact, and quite in debt.

Long story short: I will not be making a glorious and triumphant return to My College in the spring. I simply don't have the money. I will, however, be working full time and hoping to save up enough to move out, and then go to school of my own accord at a as-yet to be determined point in the future.

As for the $516.40 I still owe, I will be walking over to the Payment building after this class and handing over my shiny silver check card, and paying off $100 that I owe, leaving me with a whopping NINE WHOLE DOLLARS. It's still not quite enough, but it's a good start. If all goes according to plan, I will get close to enough money for Christmas (Relatives, you know.) that I will be able to pay the remainder. Should that brilliant plan of action fail me, I guess I'll be heading to the pawn shop with a stack of DVDs, won't I?

Why is life expensive? Can't we be like the Polynesian Island Peoples and use a shell and faith based economy of good will, relics from the ocean, and the ability to trade bread and meat for goods and services?

Wrote this for school.

Hello, my name is Spenser. As one student, I have a story. Mine. My story, as you shall soon see, is about life-long learning- defined in On Course, Strategies for Creating Success in College and in Life, as “finding valuable lessons and wisdom in nearly every experience one has.”
At this point my life has not been very long. I’m nearly 21, and with the miracles of modern medicine, that’s only about ¼ of the way to being dead. I have a long way to go. While I’m just completing the changes that come with the ending of my life's formative years, like my brain and personality being fully developed, finally figuring out what “interest rates” are, and growing out of my acne and into my boobs, I realize that while I’ve learned a lot- I still have a lot to learn. I know that this is one thing about me that will never change- no matter what happens or how I’m affected, I will always have something new to find out about.
That’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s a good thing. I love learning new things. I know what Napoleon’s biggest mistake was, why Dijon mustard isn’t produced in Dijon, and all about Harry Potter. While these things may seem unrelated and irrelevant to the topic at hand (and I assure you- they aren’t.) they all have one thing in common- I had to seek them out in order to learn about them. I took a history class, looked up mustard on the Internet, and took my time reading every Harry Potter book. I wanted to know more.
In college and in life, I make it my mission to learn as much as I can about everything. Knowledge is power, and I aim to be an evil mastermind, a giant brain, an encyclopedia in high-heels. The first step to life-long learning is wanting to learn, wanting to know more, a need to seek information. I have all of that and more. Whenever a problem arises, my first instinct is to Google it, find a book about it, or ask someone who knows. (Thanks to it being the year 2010, I usually use Google as a first resort.)
One situation where I benefited greatly from my joy of learning was during my World Civilizations class last semester. With an avid interest in Medieval Times and a desire to do well on assignments, I listened raptly to my instructor as she told of Crusades and Popes, cathedrals and rats, famine and fiefdom. I took it upon myself to read everything I could find and go out of my way to do excellent work on the topic at hand. Because of my love of learning, I did great in the class and got a lot of out it- a lot of things I still find fascinating and am still interested in.
Sometimes I learn things that are valuable to me, such as how to cook for myself and drive my car. Other things are not so important- like Harry Potter’s favorite food (treacle tart) or how to make balloon animals. However, this is of no matter- it doesn’t matter WHAT you learn, as long as you bothered to learn it. The old saying “You learn something new everyday.” doesn’t necessarily refer to learning something academic, as long as you set forth that day with the desire to expand your mind in some way.
In the future, I don’t plan to stop learning about things. I’ll always be seeking out knowledge, until I know everything there is to know about anything that ever is. Sadly, since there is a lot more stuff in the universe than there is Spenser, I am setting a rather lofty goal for myself. I’ll never know everything, if I live a thousand years, but I’ll get closer with every word I read and every experience I have. There will be many, and I am few, and soon my brain will be so packed I’ll have to forget things or risk explosion. But that’s alright with me. I’ll just want to know what caused the spontaneous combustion in the first place.

Monday, November 8, 2010

College course evaluations are bullshit, just like college. Yes, these are my actual fucking answers. Thank god for being anonymous, right?


What aspects of this course detracted most from your learning? (Keyboarding.)
It's a keyboarding class. Clearly, by typing in this feedback box, I can already type quite efficiently without looking at the keyboard. Why do I need to take a class for it? This is 2010, most college students can type. This class was a gigantic waste of time, and even though I dropped it, I'm still wasting time by evaluating it.


What aspects of this course detracted most from your learning? (Keyboarding.)
It's incredibly, mind-numbingly boring, and every second I spent learning the home row keys was a second less that I had to live a productive and fulfilled life.
I feel that is nothing less than a completely honest and accurate evaluation of my time spent in KEYBOARDING


What aspects of this course detracted most from your learning? (Intro to computers.)
The fact that I built my own damn computer from parts I ordered, yet I still have to be "introduced" to them?
It was horrendously tedious and I haven't done work in the class in about a month and a half. It'll be the second time I've dropped "Intro to the 21st Century" because I just can't bring myself to care enough. 
Nevermind the fact that MS Office 2010 has been out for over a year now, yet I'm still forced to take (and later drop) a class about obsolete and inferior technology.
In addition- why Windows XP? I've had it since 6th grade, which, if I recall correctly, and I do, was 10 years ago. That's a freakin' decade. You don't even take drivers ed on cars that old, why learn about dead operating systems?


What aspects of this course detracted most from your learning? (Success and Study Skills.)
The fact that it's ACA? It's study skills. We learned CONTEXT CLUES.
I know how to read, thanks. It's how I graduated high school and managed to apply to college in the first place. Yes, I spent time in a college class learning to read. I know, it's fucking mind-boggling.




I fucking hate college. I'm going to turn my college evaluations into a kind of cynical thing and post it on my blog that no one reads and put it in my portfoilio that i've never shown anyone.
Because I'm a loser.
I'm a genius.
But still a loser.
I have no direction.
no goals.
no motivation.
And i'm too busy frying my brain with drugs to do anything worthwhile.
I contribute nothing to no-one.
And if i really think about it, suicide is probably my best option.
After all, it is the easy way out.
And i'm well known for choosing the path of least resistance.
But to be honest..


I'm too lazy even for that.


I gotta go turn in applications for dead-end mall jobs. Hi, I'm Spenser, and I've given up on my dreams. Why don't you go try on these jeans?

Monday, November 1, 2010

I met a mouse in a house.

I had a friend named Billy. His hair was kinda silly. One I went into his house; who should I meet but a mouse? Taking off his hat and coat, the mouse began to clear his throat. "At the carnival," is what he spoke, "you can meet some fascinating folk." "Good and bad and of all kinds, maybe you will meet a mime!" Tossing a paper into the air, the mouse did a spin and disappeared with a flair. I walked further into the house, I met Billy's mom- and his father, her spouse. "Billy's cleaning his room", she said with a grin, "would you mind taking the broom upstairs to him?" As I was knocking on his door, I saw something skitter across the floor. Currently distracted, I took flight. There was something strange in this house, on this night. Suddenly recalling the gift from the mouse- I handed Billy his broom and we ran from the house. Our destination, to be neat, was the carnival just up the street.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

What I do in college.

Accounting class is so boring
I think that I might cry
Accounting class is so boring
I think that I might die
Accounting class is so boring
Why, oh why, god why?

“Because,” said the good witch, “in order to get a good job, you must make yourself miserable and learn a skill that you’re bad at, in order to go to a job you hate every day, just to make not-enough-money to buy things you don’t really need.”
“Oh,” said Dorothy, “does this mean that I’ll never make it to the top 1% income bracket, you know, the 1% of people that control 90% of the world’s wealth?”
“That’s exactly right, my dear. Toil all the while for nothing.”

Veronica.

On a cool fall day, a little girl named Veronica went for a walk. Living in a suburban development with remnants from the Cold War (small, bright houses; many with bomb shelters in the back); she put on her jacket and headed out to the cracked sidewalk, turning left in the direction of her neighborhood park. As she walked along, Veronica, a girl of no more than eight, pulled out her Android and stuck a pair of headphones into her ears, so that she could watch Justin Bieber videos on Youtube. What the fuck kind of eight year old owns a droid, you may ask yourself? Well, the answer to that is a very spoiled one with little to no common sense and a nasty habit of abusing technology.
Soon, the little girl arrives at her destination. Being delighted with herself for managing to walk all this way alone, Veronica hurries over to the abandoned merry-go-round. She kicks herself off and begins spinning wildly, giggling and having a great time. Hurtling faster and faster in a circle, she is soon spinning so fast that everything around her is a great blur and she is forced to hold on tightly as the cylindrical force pulls her to the outer edges of the toy. Veronica begins to feel quite scared. She struggles to drag her feet along the ground and bring herself to a stop, before she just gets far too dizzy.  Her struggles are to no avail. She is trapped in a veritable tornado of rapidly spinning twisted metal left over from the Cold War. The playground was a product of urban deterioration, creaky and rusting, and Veronica was utterly alone.  
Abruptly, and with a screech, the merry-go-round comes to an abrupt halt. Bewildered and staggering like a newborn wildebeest (also known as a Gnu), Veronica attempts to take a few steps forward. She wobbles forward and attempts to steady herself against a swing-set. Underestimating her distance from the objective, she falls forward and obtains a rather nasty blow to the temple. Crying for a moment, she wipes the dirt from her hands and turns to go home, muttering the eight year old version of “Fuck this park!,” which, when roughly translated, means “Big meanie swing-set!” As she toddles off home, her mind is not on the severe blow to the head she has just obtained, but rather, of Justin Bieber. Her headphones are in her ears once more, and before she knows it, she’s back at the house to eat some chicken nuggets and watch iCarly.
                Later that week, Veronica heads to school. A few hours into class, after morning snack time, Veronica sits in her little red chair and is coloring a picture of a boat, when a drop of blood drips from her ear and onto the paper. She blinks twice and falls over dead, without even time to alert her teacher. Believing her to be unconscious, Ms. Ankerson calls the school medic, who begins weeping as she discovers the awful truth. It was later learned that the reason for Veronica’s tragic and untimely death was nothing less than a massive blood clot in the brain; which was obtained during her fall at the park; burst and poor Veronica was killed instantly.
               
                Believing that Veronica was abused at home, Ms. Ankerson attempted to press charges on the parents, which were successful. They are now both in a state penitentiary, where they are serving lengthy prison sentences for Willful and Fatal Neglect of a Child. However, all this tragedy could have been prevented, if, instead of listening to shitty pop singers, Veronica had used her advanced cell phone to phone for help, maybe call 911, or an adult.

But, children are stupid and should always wear a helmet.