In no universe that will ever exist should fried chicken look like this.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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:
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.
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.
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.
Here.
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 die in China. THE END.
Ok last (I wanna say) September or October, my friend Mike and I went to some weird park on the Shore of Jersey to teach me this photographic technique called HDR(high dynamic range) and anyway blah blah I didn't get around to playing with the photos until yesterday because that's how I roll.
Anyway they turned out terrible and overdone but it was a fun exercise in playing with a new feature in Photoshop so ok suffer through them:
Blue.
I like the lens flare on the left in this one and I'm pretty sure that drippy thing in the sky is the return of Zuul.
Lens flare is the #4 cause of mistaken UFO sightings after delusion, craziness, and being from America.
Pretty sure this is the rapture.
I rather like this one. It's name I call "Turgid".
This one I will make into a postcard you can order on Etsy for $90.
So ok now you have seen them, happy?
Ok the big event this weekend was the completion of my giant shelving unit that I've been telling people about for ages. It's by Ben ("The Architect", who you know) and Adrien (who you don't) of Amalgam, based in Brooklyn. They did some sweet design work and a dedicated weekend installation which the following shitty iPhone pictures will do no justice.
In progress.
Computer sit part. That monitor will be on the wall soon.
Stables and wine rack detail.
Further wine rack detail. Note the felicity with which the wine bottles do not go crashing to the floor.
Millwork detail. This is the coolest part. The top 4 shelves have part of a Frank O'Hara poem etched into the bottom. You can read the whole thing while you're sitting in the chair.
and the little box is out on the sidewalk
next to the delicatessen
so the old man can sit on it and drink beer
and get knocked off it by his wife later in the day
while the sun is still shining
oh god it’s wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much
The poem is a love letter to New York City, but it also reminds me of some important friends from the past, so it's a whole bundle of good feelings doing their best to make people vomit rainbow happiness.
So tonight is all about putting crap on them like books and stuff. I like the big spaces and am considering printing some photos and putting them back in there with some subtle lighting underneath. So that'll be neat.
If any of you want to commission your own totally awesome designwork from Amalgam (which I highly recommend), I suggest you contact them immediately because once all the celebrities show up at the housewarming party I'm finally having, they will be too busy making playpens for Angelina Jolie to be bothered with you plebes.
You guys, it's been a terrible month. I'm single now, my house is a wreck of unfinished materials, I ripped through another pair of jeans, and the rapture didn't even come to put us all out of our misery. When things go down like all that, I react by dropping off the face of the Internet.
But there are also a lot of things turning around right now including how I came back to the Internet, grabbed a shitty default blog template, and powered up the typing fingers just to tell you that I watched The Wizard starring Fred Savage, Christian Slater, and Jenny Lewis from Rilo Kiley. It was SO GOOD so I've decided you all are going to watch it with me right now. Warning, the following blog contains spoilers for 1989's The Wizard and by reading it, you agree that this is the best movie about a video game competition ever made.
Ok cue title.
This is my TV and it is playing The Wizard.
"Everytime I make a wide eyes and teeth face take a shot. Take two if I make this face at Jenny Lewis."
"No dad, you can't put our autistic brother in a home!" Ok the plot of this movie is that Christian and Fred's little monkey half brother (born with their mom's new husband's plasma) keeps running away from home, and the only thing he says is "California!" and builds things. So eventually Fred runs away with him to take him to California for some reason because he is 12 and the little brother is like 6 so it is one of those things that only happens in 80's movies.
This is all he had to do the entire movie. Anyway, Fred Savage catches him playing this game at the shitty diner they're at, and he's like:
TAKE A SHOT, he's like "Whoa, 8 whambillion at Double Dragon, shit!"
And Simba is there, and that's when the movie gets good. So Simba tells them "We will use the little monkey to win $10,000 at a video game competition at Universal Studios!"
Nice flyaways. We find out later she's total white trash.
"I'm the only reason you're still watching this movie, dudes." Way to use a cream rinse, Simba.
Remember when these glasses were cool haha trick question they were never cool. He is the P.I. the parents hired to find the kids. He's the bad guy because he represents rules and the establishment and it turns out he kinda hates kids. Pretty sure that's Allison Janney back there before he career took hold. No lines, so I can't verify.
What stinks?
Oh it's you guys. Mrs. Doubtfire called, she says she can't see since this family stole her glasses, yet she's still positive it was a run-by fruiting.
Whoa, dude, who are you? "Who, me?"
"It's Lucas, bitches."
Lucas is the undisputed Lord God King Bufu of Video Games. He's gonna challenge the little monkey to a video game showdown and when he loses, his friends will kick the shit out of Fred Savage... or something, I don't remember. Lucas has a secret weapon.
In case you couldn't tell, this is the point in the movie when shit gets real.
Lucas is literally part machine.
Pederast Warning, this one gets me going a little. Anyway he's totally kicking ass at his shitty racing game.
His actual line at this moment: "I love the Power Glove."
Fade to black BOOM game over, what, you think the rest of the movie will be anywhere near as good as the Power Glove? It's not.
Christian Slater playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He's on a road trip with his dad to catch Fred and the monkey before that shitty PI does, so obviously he brought his Nintendo to hook up in the seedy motels.
Then dad gets into it. "Come back to bed, honey."
Rape scene, guess Dakota Fanning was busy being unborn.
Haha take a shot for this one too. That's for the Wonder Years.
Photo of monkey's dead twin because exactly what this movie needs is more plot. It came with the frame.
That's Spanky, the gigantic, uneducated black guy with a heart of gold. Simba is calling out bets for him and they win a ton of money.
The best this movie could do with a training montage is put her on the phone with one of those expensive hint lines (remember those? I called about a King's Quest game once I think). She looks like a snotty cunt here, but she's still white trash.
Watching Oprah.
Here's me over spring break, how did that get in here?
You have no idea how many shots like this I cut.
Fuck this stage and fuck Contra; this is as far as I ever got.
Ok end training montage, now the monkey is video game rainman. P.S. He doesn't enjoy any of this because of his brain condition.
aaaaaaaaaa
YEEAAAAAAH!
This one's for the men.
And for the ladies.
Oh no he found them at the casino resort somehow! Create a diversion, Simba!
"HE TOUCHED MY BREAST!" (Actual line)
Sorry, Fred, this is as good as it gets.
"So, you touched her breast, huh?" I wish I were making this up.
Make up your own joke for this one.
Spared no expense on the banner there.
Yeah right why would there be girls with clear skin looking happy here, is NKOTB playing at halftime?
Wow it's sure fun watching from behind the 24" tv sets. Here's another inexplicable hot girl.
Guess which of these girls made the finals. Hint: it's the one you expect.
"I am the MC and this is what I look like all the time."
Oh the PI found them so they ran away and ended up on the King Kong ride.
Watching Oprah again.
This is my favorite still from Lolita.
HO LEE SHIT and here we have the reason anybody saw this movie in the first place: a sneak peek at Super Mario Brothers 3! The contestants are aghast that they must compete on a brand new game.
No glove, no love.
Like looking into a mirror.
YOU DIDN'T GET THE MUSHROOM HOUSE!!!!!@U*!($YRIHF*FS$Y($&*@
O
Oh it's over. The monkey won, obviously and the parents and everybody ended up being there and seeing it, and they were happy which is great because their kid is still riddled with autism but none of that matters with Dr. Nintendo on the case. Anyway in the car on the way home, the monkey shrieked and made everyone stop at this dinosaur park to leave behind a lunchbox filled with his dead sister's crap.
Admiration shot.
Lunchbox. The end.