skull fucking and the works

As I sit here attempting my was hand at a creatie peice of writing I thought to check this oh so original blog to see if anyone had posted anything since the literary genious of "carlos and pepes." I was deighted to see a few things and was hit with the nostalgia of re-reading and remembering what others wrote when this was created. All of it centering around dessert tickets, for which i already really miss. The group meals rather than the actual dessert tickets cause i mostly used them for grapes that were ultimatly stolen to be thrown down my shirt. Anyway, I think the lunch's and dinners were the best moments of the year (collectively, cause I do have a soft sport for the last night before winter break) Where else will you get into a discussion about skull fucking-is it illegal? or just preverse and creepy? Would it be considered rape? (only if it wasn't concentual, bringing up th question who would consent to it-cause arguably you would have to gouge out their eye-something that has been argued is considerably easy- before being able to successfully fuck the socket) The ridiculous-ness of these and many other conversations made the year enjoyable, got you through the tough days and made you look forward to the next. To those involved, thank you. Maybe one day, when I learn to write well I will pen this into the great american novel, the great american novel aboout skull fucking and the works.

SkyNet

Since I got out here, I've made a point of checking up on DT at least once a week, to see if the Party in its wisdom had changed its mind about blocking blog sites. Today, June 25 (nearly a month after the last post), I got in. I felt like Matthew Broderick in War Games. Yes! I cracked the system! Now that decadent, buttery feeling can be mine again. WWIII also a possibility.

I walked into a Starbucks yesterday, just to do some studying, and as soon as I crossed the threshold I was transported. Not to my home town, although there are Starbuxes aplenty--but to the one on Maisonneuve at Union, by the KPMG tower. I don't think I've ever been inside, but I know in my bones that's where I was teleported to. Now, it's peculiar that I went to Montreal rather than the city I used to call home. It's also strange that I didn't teleport to a more familiar Starbucks in the same city. Now that I think of it, it's weird that it was open at 3:30 AM EST.

I hope someone's out there. I miss you guys.

Grilled Portobello Mushrooms

2 Portobello Mushrooms
One medium sized Onion, coarsely chopped
Three cloves of garlic, finely chopped.
Vegetable/Olive Oil
Lemon juice.
One packet of raw sugar
Butter (Copious Amounts)
Couscous
1 Granny Smith Apple
Sea Salt. (To taste.)
Ground Peppercorns (To taste)
Wok.
Grilling pan.
Speakers blasting Pendulum to make you feel like a badass in the kitchen. (optional)

Note: all numerical measurements are subjective.

1. Warm wok with oil, pinch of salt and pepper at medium heat.
2. Sautee garlic in wok until browned
3. Add butter and onions for another 10 minutes until browned, sautee and grind more pepper.
4. Rinse mushrooms lightly and dance wildly in anticipation of finished product.
5. Warm grilling pan on high heat, and place mushrooms in wok, basting surface and sides with butter and oil mixture.
6. Spread butter lightly on underside of mushrooms, adding slightly more pepper and sea salt.
7. Place Mushrooms face first onto grilling pan, pour sauteed onions, garlic, and excess oil onto mushrooms.
8. Dance more.
9. Place couscous in heat safe container, pour boiling water into container and cover.
10. Add two teaspoons of lemon juice onto mushrooms, followed by half a teaspoon of sugar each.
11. Cover mushrooms and grill till juicy and meaty and nuty and amazing.
12. Slice apple into thin slices.
13. Serve mushrooms couscous and slices of crisp granny smith apples. The tart apples serve to counterbalance the savoury and meaty goodness of the mushrooms.
14. Dance more to pendulum.
15. Be overcome by hunger and devour the food but want more.
16. Repeat steps 1-16 (optional)
17. You are a fucking badass!

Serves 1.

I like salad.

But I like the word "injection", even more. It's such a piercing, assertive, direct word that is totally non ambiguous in its existence.

There's no way to make a sissy injection. They are either badass, like a fuel injection engine, or scary, like a heroin injection. Or wait...on second though, maybe there are sissy injections. Like botox.

Unlike fuel injection engines, which I know nothing about, I know only slightly more than nothing about botox injections as a result of a recent GQ article discussing exorbitant and obscenely expensive beauty treatments....for men. This included chemical peels and micro dermabrasion and writers experiencing it. GQ is such shit here.

The things we do in the name of journalism. But it was all good in the end. He had qualms about doing it, but concluded that he would do it again. I'd rather go for the microdermabrasion.

The question is what kind of injection am I?

Do the face muscles of this blog need relaxing? Does it need to go on a high? Maybe viagra, seeing the unhealthy amount of school work that has made this blog what it is right now. And a healthy dose of nonsensical rambling. Logic like buses, bendy ones. It's all about the vibe after all, isn't it. It's not what you say, but how you say it.

uberluv from
fiverforthelips, the botox, viagra, vibe injection.

This interview is hysterical

The Handsome Boy Modelling School
in interview form. check it out.

http://www.artistdirect.com/nad/music/artist/bio/0,,905730,00.html