NEWS.com.au | Want to try the 'Orgasmatron'? (November 27, 2003)

Wow, now this would be handy!

IwanthispleasecanIhaveitcanyoubuyitformeplease,huh?

Konzo!!!

So that explains my spastic gait last night.

My latest near death experience:

Cassava

I decided to cook up some cassava, as I had some recently at a colombian restaurant and it was yummy. I boiled it for a while (til tender) then roasted it up in the oven. But, when I tried to eat it it just didn't taste right. I had a few pieces, but it was sort of making me sick to my stomach. I think I was accused by certain members in the house of over reacting....now I know better. I hadn't cooked it enough and was suffering from hydrocyanic poisoning! (Well, maybe I wouldn't go so far as to say I was poisoned...but it definitely made me feel unwell....I feel sick even thinking about it now!)

Amazon.com: Books: The Pig Who Sang to the Moon : The Emotional World of Farm Animals

Highly recommended.

If Americans cannot recall whom we fought, and whom we fought alongside, during World War II, it should not be assumed that they will long remember what happened on September 11 or why we must be prepared and vigilant today. And a nation that does not know why it exists, or what it stands for, cannot be expected to long endure. As columnist George Will wrote, "We cannot defend what we cannot define."



I'm currently teaching a personal economics class to 8th graders through Junior Achievement. A few weeks ago World War II was brought up in discussion and 3 of the kids in class did not have any idea who Adolf Hitler was. They weren't joking. It thoroughly disheartened me.

So, we are having a BITCH of a time finding an accountant for our little venture. Look, I know we aren't going to be a HUGE client (at least not yet), but is it too much to ask for someone to return an email? Or to show for an initial appointment?

D's asked me the other day if we could please try to track down a woman accountant. He claims that women are easier to work with than men, and based on our experience with male accountants here in the woodlands he has to conclude that they will all be complete twats. When pressed, he even agreed that in general men are prima donna pains in the ass. "Worse than women!" (That's a direct quote.)

So there you go.

AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!

OY OY OY!

Adopt a Turkey!

I'm home! I'm tired!

Truly truly awful.

I am temptd to buy a whole lot of them and give them away to bewildered relatives.

(Turn your speakers down so you don't get chatted at.....)

Bookish Preferences

At lunch I stopped by the library to pick a few books to take along with me on my trip. I was looking for a certain pysical type. I needed either paperbacks or light hardcovers. Apart from that, I had no other guidelines. To avoid lugging around books that I wouldn't be able to stand beyond the first couple of pages, I actually opened the book up to the first page and made sure it semi-engaged me. I was looking for the perfect airplane book, entertaining and engaging and a quick read.

A couple things I've determined about my preferences when picking up a few random books:

1. If the book smells like musty unwashed winter hair? I can't deal with it.

2. If the book is written largely in vernacular? Can't deal. If is southern girl y'all speak? Really really can't deal with it. Nothing sets my teeth on edge quite like the whole "Y'all, we're soooo cute and we're as southern as get out....even more country than grits and watermelon..." shtick. This writing is not only annoying to read, it is yawningly predictable. It is usually a memoir of sorts (back in the day when the chickens slept under the porch!), a "we are sisters!" book (we call ourselves the y'all sisters!), or a predictable exploration of racial relations in which the white folk learn that black folk are people too (you don't say!)

My wrath also extends to any books written in some weird phonetic glaswegian or irish accent.

3. Any book that has imaginary lands with unpronounceable names.

4. Anything bollywood. There is jut a hype overload and "White Teeth" ruined any excitment I had for this genre. (Ok, you got me, I did love "The Life of Pi" which I read AFTER the disasterous attempt to read "White Teeth.")

5. Any book that picks up where another classic book left off, or is a fictional account of a famous author/composer/minor character in another book. Don't blame me, blame "Wide Sargasso Sea."

6. Any Bridget Jones-esque book. Not only predictable, but, geez, do women really have to discover through a thin novel that they are A-OK just being normal?

Think of me tonight flying through tornado cells to Mississippi in a puddle jumper....

A solution to all problems:

After a day long of being the worlds worst mood ever (and irrationally so), I did they only thing I could think to do to alleviate the hostility. I made rice pudding.

Now if I could just get someone to finish my laundry and pack my bag for my trip, I'd be set.

MadCowboy Home Page

for my benefit.

Nothing to see here....

Ok a few things...

A headache
Ruby's sore paw
Pizza night tonight
Produce market tomorrow
Ibuprofen has destroyed my stomach


That is all.

Seitan Worship

I've discoverd the joy that is seitan, and even though D calls it "satan"...I'm happily eating it.

I made my first homemade batch this weekend and am not 100% with the texture just yet..but it tastes wonderful in a bbq sandwich...mmmm.

We love Harry...

Last night the D and I went to hear Harry Connick Jr at Jones Hall in Houston. Yay! We'd been so looking forward to it. Harry is a bit of a tradition with us, and we try to catch him in concert whenever possible.

We saw him a couple times even in Perth! Harry on the stereo was one way we would pass the time on the long drive between Perth and Gero. I especially love hearing the D sing along to HC jr cds, affecting a super super cute american accent.

Last night didn't disappoint. I was a bit tentative, as I'm not a huge fan of "christmas" concerts...but Harry's rendition of "Basin Street Blues" (featuring Lucien Barbarin, who I have loved since I saw him play with HC jr in '92 and who is just cute as a bug) was superb. "Basin Street Blues" is one of those classics that just makes me happy. It made me happy to my toes.

Another highlight was when Harry, Lucien and Leroy Jones played "Bourbon Street Parade." Yay again!

Overall, I think we enjoyed this concert much more than we did when he last played Houston a couple years ago (that's the concert where D told the nattering women behind us that he'd pay them to shut up.)

Make sure to catch him and his band if he's playing a venue near you... you can't help but go home grinning.

A modern day version of the hobo sign language...

Tyke



Here's our new foster. He's a tiny little guy and has just been the nicest pup. Poor babe, he's feeling pretty sick from his heartworm injections.

Impossible Pie

Or this.

Frangipani Pie!

Yes please....

I'm thoroughly disheartened about people for a few reasons. I was going to write all about it, but I'm already sick of my whiny attitude about it. (Thanks to Nicole who let me have a moan.) Suffice it to say the majority of my shittiness is due to dog-related neglect stuff.

Right now I'm watching a documentary on Afghanistan. What a horrible and sad situation that country is in.... But, maybe this is not being culturally sensitive, why are these people procreating? All these starving kids....why continue to procreate when you know there is not hope for a decent life for your offspring. (By decent, in this situation, I mean not enough food to eat.) Is it a cultural thing? I'm undecided about this situation in the context of Afghanistan.

Here, in the western world, I'm not undecided about how I feel about this. You know, every once in a while I think about having kids. I want to have kids someday, maybe. I say maybe, because I only want to have kids if I can see a reasonable future for them and us. That is, I can't see my way to procreating until I'm reasonably sure that we have both the emotional and financial reserves required to provide them with a secure and happy life. I'm not talking about gobs of money so that they have everything they want immediately. I'm just talking about a roof over their heads, relaxed parents who aren't fighting over how to pay for groceries, parents who have their heads on straight and aren't still running about and emotionally unstable etc.

I see so many people who have no such concerns. It worries me. It makes me feel hopeless. If people can't even be decent and responsible about their own offspring, I know they will never be responsible about any pets that have the misfortune to be part of their lives.

Dog-e-sscentials Coming Soon

Are you excited? I'll tell you when we are up and ready to sell....

Urban Legends For The 21st Century


nicely done!

How To: By You -An Experiment in Intuition

Shh....don't tell the D...but our attempt to take a break from fostering is once again probably only a pipe dream. I've secretly conspired to bring home a tiny beagle boy tomorrow....

Will

Help Will get a new nose!

Tribe.net: Home

Yes. You have to. Because I need you in my network. And because you want to (look for me with my secret code name: Supah Dupah).

Keen Yearning

Nostalgia is an amazing thing. It absolutely boggles what I get nostalgic for. This morning all the way to work and even now, I've had the strongest yearning to make the drive from Daglish to Innaloo shopping center. I can picture the entire route. I can imagine strolling through the shopping center after dashing into coles for some groceries. I would also stop by the fish mongers for a nice piece of fish. Not that those are things I can't necessarily get here, but it's the entire scene that I miss. I would like to lay my eyes on that scrounge pub across the road, the one that has the raunchies on friday. I'd like to look on the "Lone Star Steakhouse" and get that smirky feeling I used to get thinking about "home."

I'd like to see the bottlebrush trees along the road back, and know that just over to the right..not so far away is city beach.

Razanne : The Muslim Doll

"Razanne represents to Muslim girls that they have options, goals and dreams and the ability to realize them,"

So, when will they start making dolls that better respresent western girls? I mean, seriously, no one can believe that Barbie is at all representative of western women the wold over? Just as no one can actually claim that a mute, shit-free baby doll is representative about the reality of babies.

I dunno, I guess I just miss the days when a doll was just a doll. Personally, I was never much into Barbies, and I had to hide all my dolls under a blanket in the closet at night (lest they come awake and try to kill me).

Amanresorts

You know, since I'm turning 30 in January... I wouldn't complain if someone sent me an all expenses paid holiday to Bora Bora, or Thailand, heck, any of the aman resorts will do.

There she goes...

Well, it didn't take long did it? Sohpie was adopted last night be a wonderful family. There is no better feeling in the world knowing you were instrumental in saving a dog from death, and seeing that dog go "home."

Dia de los Muertos

Today is the day Mexicans remember their dead, and celebrate their lives. I am not religious, but this year I thought about making a little ofrenda for my dad. Mostly I joked about it to freak D out. So, in the end, I don't have an offrenda up, but I am thiking about him.

That must be why I dreamed of my father last night. I haven't dreamed of him since months and months before his death. My dreams while he was alive were dreams of silence. The dreams were always the same, a feeling of frustration while he sat silently and refused to interact with me.

Last night I dreamt that he and I were in the back of a car, on the way to a meeting. I was confused and kept clarifying that he was, indeed, dead. He assured me he was, but that what he really wanted to discuss was business. Namely, the little business idea D and I have. He was very encouraging and discussed strategy with me. I found the entire dream odd, even while I was having it, but savored it as well. Now I will secret it in my heart, it may have taken my dad until after death...but I finally feel like I got some sort of validation from him.

It's been a foodfest around here! Last night my sister came to spend the night at our house, and we went to eat at my favourite little colombian restaurant. We ate ourselves silly on plantains, empanadas, arrepas, yucca and MEAT (which I'm regretting now, after a week of totally vegetarian meals...the meat is wreaking havoc). I was so full I could hardly move...but I moved enough to stop by the colombian bakery next door for a guava filled bread for morning tea today.

This afternoon we drove into houston to visit the produce market. It was GREAT. I got a huge bunch of mexican cilantro (more delicate than the type you get in the regular shops), tiny tiny tomatillos (like grape sized), some guajillo chiles, serranos, huge limes, and D's contribution to the pile - a pineapple. So, I'm going to be making some gorgeous green salsa this afternoon.