Deep Fried Chicken Parts! Part the Second

In no universe that will ever exist should fried chicken look like this.

Chicken Experiement

But y'know something, it tastes pretty damn ok. Nevermind that the batter part comes off in one piece and you can kind of put it back on like a little helmet.

Chicken Experiement

So I'm going to go eat this meal while you all get excited thinking about how I'd be in my own damn cooking show. Pro Tip #1: Drink your orange juice out of a free wine glass so you can pretend you're not still in your underwear.

Deep Fried Chicken Parts!

One of the great things about being unemployed is the time and energy to do stupid little projects that will inevitably fail. Last week I tried to make a collage, and I glued a bunch of paper to my little TV table accidentally and it took forever to get off. So that's gone. I also pulled out my old saxophone today and tried cleaning it up, but I broke something and now half of it won't work right.

So ok as I blog I am doing another stupid thing: Improvising Fried Chicken. I have these 4 chicken legs, right, and I've totally been craving fried chicken ever since I saw The Help last week, so I'm making it happen but none of the recipes I found are easy. They all say "Let this sit for 12 hours!" or "Go out to the store to get these things you don't already have in the house!" so they can all go eff themselves. (I'm talking to you, Food Network dot com!)

So anyway I put some flour in a bowl and then I put some paprika and cayenne pepper in it and then I drenched it in beer to make a paste. It looks just like cookie paste but is absolutely vile if you eat it. I also melted some lard in a soup pot because I don't have a frying pan. If you have anything to say about how I keep lard in the house, post it in the comments.

So now the chicken legs are frying in this pan and it smells absolutely amazing, but I'm pretty sure something horrible is about to happen, stay tuned.

Chicken ExperimentChicken Experiment

I Ate Us

So I've been jobless a month now. You might have thought "OH BOY HE HAS NO JOB HE WILL BLOG ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT UNTIL THE SUN COMES UP" but you were wrong. I've had far too many other things to do like nothing.

Honestly, I have almost nothing to show for the past month except failed eye surgery and my surprising ability not to go over budget on unemployment. I've also done some sitting and thinking about where I want to be professionally and creatively. No conclusions have been reached. You guys, WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH MYSELF!?

No it doesn't matter. For the moment I am very happy with no purpose. I'm seriously way quieter inside. I don't even get mad when people cut me off or block the subway doors, and it's not just because I'm no longer in a hurry.

Oh but do you want to hear something that IS pissing me off!? Yeah, this blog's new name is 'More Apartment Problems, Everyone!' because I have some major water damage on the ceiling of my kitchen and the backsplash. Wanna see?

Those pictures were taken Sunday, and it's much worse now. My building manager got a plumber here (in 2 days -- record time!) and apparently the apartment above me didn't know their kitchen sink was leaking water all over the floor. Because that's reasonable. Please spend all day dragging furniture around and dropping things on the floor so heavy that my lights flicker, yet fail to notice that you are swimming.

So everybody is invited to my party where I will have 16 sq. ft. of ceiling replaced as well as most of a wall and probably all of my cabinets and then a brand new paint job because this is exactly what I need to spend money on right now.

Slice of Life

Come on. Be nice.


Last Night's Agenda: Start watching Alien at 11:00 at night for no reason and have funny dreams all night.

Tonight's Agenda: Learn to pronounce "Thibault" so I can scream the name of the assmagnet who ousted me as Foursquare mayor of the wine store.

Tomorrow's Agenda: By something awesome to wear at a wedding next week. I'm thinking something in a light grey suit/white shoes kinda deal. The goal is to look half glam, half hipster so everyone in Chicago thinks I'm successful and hip. Then it's back to ill-fitting t-shirts for the rest of my life. Oh, and the Green Lantern shoes I'm totally about to order.

Sunday's Agenda: NYC Pride Celebration. I am proud to be going to brunch. I am proud to be intending to drink all day. I will also be proud to poop out after two hours and go home, where I will be even prouder to play video games until I pass out at 6 and wake up at 11. At 11, I will be proud to go to the Toolbox and NOT repeat the horrible Pool Table Incident of 2010. Following that: Proud Tea, Proud Sleeping, and Proud Alien Dreams.

Future and Unscheduled Events:

  • Writing a blog all about my trip to New Hampshire. ("Part the First -- Orange Julius, You Rule-ius: An Instillation Celebration")
  • Meet-Up/Date/Non-Date with a dude whose name I call Dr. Science.
  • Photo journal of completed shelves (feat. BOOKS!, Mallow the Squishy Penguin Who Smells, and my wooden pixel cat Lord Ephesius "Pixie" Aginwood-Mewsworth)
  • Getting Gay Married!?!?!?

Adventures of Mop Top Curlyface McTittykins

Went out last night and have the feeling I was really obnoxious all night, though I can't remember why. Does anyone remember me being obnoxious? If I was I blame my new hair.

WHAT I DIDN'T TELL YOU ABOUT MY NEW HAIR YET!?!?! That's so weird because I won't shut up about it on Facebook.


Don't look at me.


Top view.

So basically we pared down the sides and she took a curling iron to the top. And then she put a bunch of crap in her hands and ruined the curls. I love it.

The best part is she (Stylist She) said I can probably not shower for 4 or 5 days and still have good hair. So I'm trying that. Gas masks are available for your convenience. Here's Day 1:


The curls are destroyed because my hair is so vehemently disagreeable and can't listen to simple instruction. (Get punchy! Fruit drinky?) So now you know. Anyway I'm heading to New Hampshire with Ry Ry for a few days. Please don't miss me, I promise I will return and generate more narcissistic and utterly inane internet content for your perusal.

But it's not a trip unless I go out and buy a bunch of shit for no reason.


This curling iron is for after my No Shower Ever experiment. I'll post pics of all my scalp burns, don't worry.


All boys with hair should have this product. Body hair included.


I rented Alien. The guy at the video store I have a crush on told me it is slow but that I should watch all 4, so I am doing that. I'm pretty sure he's into dudettes, but he is so cute when he talks about movies that I'm thinking of Missed Connectioning him to see.


I bought this game and am going to go play it now until I have to get ready to go bye.

I Think I Can

Attention everyone! If you loved Choose Your Own Adventure Blog, then you will also love Choose Your Own Adventure OKCupid Profile that I made because my stupid friend told me to.

Of course it hasn't attracted anybody at all. I've gotten 4 messages, but they are all from people I already know. On the plus side I am reconnecting next week with the very first person I ever hung out with when I moved to New York. (Hi, Brian! Don't forget! Love, Brian)

I haven't slept in three nights so if I throw up coffee all over you right now don't be offended. Speaking of coffee... cans... made into other things, Liz at work and I made a new tip jar for the dudes at the little restaurant next door where we get breakfast every morning. Apparently the cheap-ass students at the community college and the cheap-ass librarians here don't give them much in the way of gratuity, but part of the problem is that their old tip jar was stupid. So ok here look at these shitty iPhone pictures.

I did the drawing parts and Liz did the contact paper and layout parts. Anyway apparently it is such an awesome tip jar that one of the asshole college kids walked away with it the first day it was out (Whitney believes the children are our future) so now it's tied to the counter with a rope. Because this is the sort of place I work now.

Choose Your Own Adventure Blog (feat. Cheeseburgers!)


You guys all feel sorry for me because I feel like shit today. You read my blog over and over again to make me feel better. If you would like to know why I feel like shit, go to TWO. If you would like to hear about the Tony awards, go to THREE. If you would like to hear about the basketball game go to ANOTHER BLOG.


Probably because I had two fucking cheeseburgers from a New Jersey McDonalds and my body can no longer process Grade ZZZ beef. You laugh at my digestive upset and the smörgåsbord of germs I got from the little Mexican child who tried to plow me over so I get mad and breathe on you. You die. THE END.


The Tony's were surprisingly entertaining. You are shocked because you don't find live theater relevant. You are wrong. I encourage you to seriously find a YouTube of the opening number because it is cute and funny and reaffirmed my 1,000-ton crush on Neil Patrick Harris. Here, I will do it for you.

Doesn't that bring back memories off all the things you want to inflict on Brooke Shields? Furthermore, although he cannot sing his way out of a plastic bag and I still wish he would shrivel off of the celebrity circuit forever, I have to admit that Daniel Radcliffe danced the shit out of his How to Succeed number.

Ok that's all I have to say about the Tony's. If you get on your knees and beg me to link to the new Selena Gomez song, go to SIX. If you do not want me to do that for some reason, go to FOUR.


Too bad.

Go to FIVE.


If you don't like that song yet, go to SIX. If you do like that song now, go to SEVEN.



Go to FIVE.


Bravo. Now you love Selena Gomez. Is this awesome? Circle one: Yes/yes. Go to TEN.


Inside the mailbox is a portal to Narnia. You are stabbed in the eye by Tilda Swinton's cheekbones. You are dead. THE END.


Weren't they delicious, cow? Here is the story of their creation. Jen and I are starting a new tradition where we bake stuff and watch movies every.... now and then. Saturday it was red velvet cupcakes and The Wizard. (Yes, I watched the fucking Wizard again.) After the wizard, Ry Ry took us on a tour of the best parts of Queen of the Damned, which weren't very many. Next time I will make lemon tarts, she will do something else, and we will watch makeover-themed movies.

Anyway it was a lovely fucking evening before you ruined it by eating all the cupcakes. This is why you are a cow. That's it. Ok. You are killed by a grue. THE END.


You are in a field. You see a mailbox. To the north is a house. Exits are north, northwest, and south. If you open the mailbox, go to EIGHT. If you break into the house and eat all the red velvet cupcakes I made with my friend Jen this weekend, go to NINE, you cow. If you dig a hole to China, go to ELEVEN.


You die in China. THE END.