Audio

Fabrizio de André - Le Passanti

When I told my mother I was getting married she had a minor coronary, sputtered a few epithets and then made sweeping proclamations along the lines of “You are not moving to Scotland” and “You can’t get married.” She may have also thrown in “You definitely can’t get married if I haven’t met her,” “What if she’s some sort of murderer?” and “Have you lost your mind?”

My mother is old fashioned, and seems to forget that I moved out when I was 15.

My father is even more old fashioned but in a much more agreeable way, and, since I’ve never lived with him, views me more as some weird guy to whom he is vaguely related, which is actually quite accurate.

The one conversation we’ve had on the subject went as follows:

“Why couldn’t you marry an Italian girl?”

“She is Italian.”

“What?”

“She’s Scottish, but her family’s Italian. Her last name’s P______.”

“Oh. Cool.”

End of discussion. Have a good life.

Dago priorities, folks. There are only two. Marry Italian and put more garlic in it.

What is it? Who cares? More garlic.

Photo
Who’s this badass babe with the stellar outfit?
First babe Michelle Obama, who is probably drawing a picture of her and I armwrestling in the margin of an otherwise neat and orderly list of awesome, healthy groceries she intends to buy later, that we are totally going to turn into a sexy dinner, here in the land of make believe where I live and have dinner with Michelle Obama.
… who is a babe with great arms, nice clothes, and a good grasp of nutrition.

Who’s this badass babe with the stellar outfit?

First babe Michelle Obama, who is probably drawing a picture of her and I armwrestling in the margin of an otherwise neat and orderly list of awesome, healthy groceries she intends to buy later, that we are totally going to turn into a sexy dinner, here in the land of make believe where I live and have dinner with Michelle Obama.

… who is a babe with great arms, nice clothes, and a good grasp of nutrition.

Photo
A Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Dog.

A Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Dog.

(Source: theamericankid, via incoldblood)

Photo
You thought I forgot, didn’t you.

You thought I forgot, didn’t you.

Photo
OH NO, WHATEVER WILL I DO WITHOUT YOU?
(who are you?)

OH NO, WHATEVER WILL I DO WITHOUT YOU?

(who are you?)

Photo
This is my favorite song.

This is my favorite song.

Photoset

Another alembic array of admirable asses, artfully if arbitrarily arranged.

Text

Vegetarians (who are cool with fish sauce),

Would you like something very, very tasty to bring to your next potluck, family function, or subversive lesbian recruitment seminar?

My brother hid the camera somewhere so there are no pictures, but here is the recipe for spicy Vietnamese brussels sprouts (adapted from the version served at Momofuku):

  • 2 pounds brussels sprouts, halved lengthwise
  • 2-3 tablespoons canola oil
  • 1.5 tablespoons butter
  • 1/4 cup Asian fish sauce
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 1 tablespoon seasoned rice vinegar
  • 2 tablespoons finely chopped mint
  • 1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro stems
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 1 or 2 (1 1/2-inch) fresh red Thai chile, thinly sliced crosswise, including seeds
  • 2 tablespoons sesame seeds
  • 1 teaspoon canola oil
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander (optional)

Preheat oven to 450º with a rack near the top.

Cut all your brussels sprouts in half and arrange them on a cookie sheet/baking tray. When you run out of room, stop cutting brussels sprouts.

Take them, coat them in canola oil, return them to the cookie sheet and throw it in the oven on the aforementioned rack. Cook for 35-45 minutes, until charred and creepy looking.

While that’s happening, mince your garlic, chile (or chiles, if you’re feeling frisky and aren’t afraid of heat), mint, and cilantro stems. Mix the fish sauce, water, sugar, and vinegar (you can use white wine or apple cider vinegar if you don’t have rice vinegar, but you should have rice vinegar because it’s awesome). Add the things you just chopped into tiny pieces to this weird sugary liquid. Stir, shake, or otherwise agitate to mix them. Set aside.

In a tiny saucepan heat canola oil over medium heat until sexy. Add cayenne, coriander (if using) and sesame seeds. Cook for a few minutes, stirring frequently, until seeds are somewhat toasted and fragrant. Set aside to cool.

Soften or melt the butter you’ve been staring at this whole time.

When brussels sprouts are charred and goofy looking, remove them from the oven. Turn off the oven so your house doesn’t burn down. Coat them with the butter (this can be done in a big bowl). Then add the sesame seeds and continue wiggling everything around. Then add half the dressing you made earlier (shaking/stirring once again to ensure it’s well mixed).

Serve coated brussels sprouts with the rest of the dressing on the side and watch everyone make moaning noises and offer to sleep with you when they taste them.

Photo
I’ve been meaning to fix this forever (or at least as long as it’s been making the rounds on Tumblr, which is at least a year, which is like forever) because a good joke should not be marred by bad grammar (nor should it be circulated by 100,000 people without anyone bothering to mention that “lo” is short for “look” and used abundantly and with obvious enjoyment hundreds of times in the bible, whereas “low” means “placed or situated near to the ground” as found in the popular American colloquialism “Get low. To the window, to the wall. The sweat drop down my balls. All these bitches crawl. Aw, skeet skeet motherfucker. Aw, skeet skeet god damn.”)
An easy mistake, but it’s been bugging me for some time.
(And it appears the original did not contain the annoying grammar mistake, which makes me wonder who ‘made’ the color version, and what they were thinking when they did).

I’ve been meaning to fix this forever (or at least as long as it’s been making the rounds on Tumblr, which is at least a year, which is like forever) because a good joke should not be marred by bad grammar (nor should it be circulated by 100,000 people without anyone bothering to mention that “lo” is short for “look” and used abundantly and with obvious enjoyment hundreds of times in the bible, whereas “low” means “placed or situated near to the ground” as found in the popular American colloquialism “Get low. To the window, to the wall. The sweat drop down my balls. All these bitches crawl. Aw, skeet skeet motherfucker. Aw, skeet skeet god damn.”)

An easy mistake, but it’s been bugging me for some time.

(And it appears the original did not contain the annoying grammar mistake, which makes me wonder who ‘made’ the color version, and what they were thinking when they did).

Text

So even if,

contrary to the fact that Hebrews had no documented form of writing prior to the 10th century BCE, we were to go with the traditionalist view that Moses wrote the Torah between 1446 and 1406 BCE (because Moses was a badass and badasses write if they want to, independent of the discovery or invention of writing) this fucking asshole still burned down a tree older than any portion of the goddamned bible.

Way to go, meth! Another stunning victory!

The fifth oldest tree in the world. 

Humanity should be destroyed.

Text

cashcrab:

The National Coalition Of Girls Who Still Think “Rawr Means I Love You In Dinosaur” Is A Thing will be holding a convention this weekend in New York City in which members affiliated with the group will meet together and form a massive sitting circle in which they will all draw pictures of Jack Skellington on each other’s Vans.

Video

Let’s not laugh at this joke together, friends, as we used to.

Text

Much as I would love to never go on the internet again, I have certain obligations (a fiancée in a foreign country, ATIAC, downloading Archer) that keep me somewhat tethered.

I’ve been trying to think of things to do on the worldwide computer interweb that don’t make me want to kill myself or others. The list is small, but “sharing music” is way up near the top, right under “whipping Skippy to lonely MILF porn”.

So here, internet, have some tunes.

Nothing fancy. No bells and whistles (unless there are bells and whistles in a song, which is entirely possible in today’s zany musical landscape). Just some jams for your aural enjoyment, carefully selected (not really) from the inky depths of my hard drive.

Don’t say I never gave you nothin’.

[download]

  • Fancy Mike - Lazer Opera
  • Mel Gibson & The Pants - Bit Of A Buzz (f. Dessa)
  • Milemarker - The Fear Is Back In Town
  • S.A. Smash - Devil In The Hole
  • Matthew Shipp & William Parker - And Then A Voice Says (f. HPRizm)
  • Team Ghost - Echoes
  • Wye Oak - That I Do
  • Poem Rocket - The Coronation Of Ellipses
  • Archers of Loaf - Dead Red Eyes
  • Races - Big Broom (7” version)
  • Holly Miranda - Nobody Sees Me Like You Do
  • Twin Shadow - Castles In The Snow
  • Lazer Sword - Topflites (f. M. Sayyid)
  • Sims - Market Made Murder
  • YACHT - Psychic City
  • Simon Joyner - Open Window Blues
  • The Fire Show - Conception Blues
  • Sons & Daughters - Ink Free
  • Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire - Fire Marshall Bill
  • Hymie’s Basement - The Act
  • The Shivers - Deserter
  • Phosphorescent - Hej, Me I’m Light
  • St. Vincent - Year Of The Tiger
  • Yeasayer - Wait For The Wintertime (Don’t Look Down version)
  • Liars - Houseclouds
  • Exitmusic - Space Oddity
  • Speck Mountain - Twinlines

As always, if they fail to load in the proper order, reorder them because they sound better that way and I spend more time sequencing than I do selecting. Or don’t. You’re a one-of-a-kind masterpiece, forging your own path to the future. The rules do not apply to you.

I will see you where the ocean meets the sky.

Photo
SARUMAN’S NOT COMING TO MY PARTY?
AND HE TOLD ME ON FACEBOOK INSTEAD OF TEXTING?
THAT GUY IS SUCH A DICK!

SARUMAN’S NOT COMING TO MY PARTY?

AND HE TOLD ME ON FACEBOOK INSTEAD OF TEXTING?

THAT GUY IS SUCH A DICK!

Photo
As I’m sitting here hydrating my beautiful body and reading Julian Barnes, it occurs to me that I recently devoured and adored Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From The Goon Squad, which I’ve been meaning to read since before I left Chicago.
Please read Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From The Goon Squad because it’s quite good.
Don’t do it for my sake. I don’t really care if you read it, and I only know like … ten of you personally. Hell, Jennifer Egan probably doesn’t care either. She already won the Pulitzer for it. It’s more of an ‘I think you’ll enjoy it and I like it when you’re happy even though we’re strangers’ kind of thing.
So do it for you, internet.
Do it for you.

As I’m sitting here hydrating my beautiful body and reading Julian Barnes, it occurs to me that I recently devoured and adored Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From The Goon Squad, which I’ve been meaning to read since before I left Chicago.

Please read Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From The Goon Squad because it’s quite good.

Don’t do it for my sake. I don’t really care if you read it, and I only know like … ten of you personally. Hell, Jennifer Egan probably doesn’t care either. She already won the Pulitzer for it. It’s more of an ‘I think you’ll enjoy it and I like it when you’re happy even though we’re strangers’ kind of thing.

So do it for you, internet.

Do it for you.