Archive for October, 2013


I was right… again!

I was brought up on manual gears (stick shift)

I was brought up on manual gears (stick shift)

See, I didn’t mention penises and testicles in yesterday’s post, just small boobs and a happy pussy, and I got less than half the ‘Likes’. What does that say about you?

I should be doing the dishes, but blogging for Halloween and drinking oodles of coffee is much more fun. Lunch presents a problem, however, the tray I want to use for my lasagna is at the bottom of the kitchen sink.

A dilemma!

For me, Halloween is not a part of my culture although I was exposed to it via childhood comics, etc. It was not until I came to South America where American English is taught (Heavens only knows why) that Halloween has been infused into Latin American minds and, as a result, I have had to go with the flow. Also more so with my blogging adventures, I blog about it, but I don’t celebrate it. The only pumpkin you’ll find in my house is in the roasting dish.

So all my blog posts today have a Halloween theme, some blogs even have two posts, so there’s a shit-load of reading/exploring to do.

Cool day today, tried to rain, but it was a pitiful attempt, hardly wet the garden. One class this evening, then it’s weekend; a great way to start the month.

These are penises

These are penises

Now to guarantee that I get a few more ‘Likes’, I am going to mention penises and testicles.

Yes, those walking sticks are bulls’ pizzles.

I might add that mine is a wooden one; I have never been one to display my pizzle in public. Besides the police get all funny when men do that.

To elucidate further, these are also bulls’ pizzles, think about that when you are buying chew bars for Fido.

These are also penises

These are also penises

Makes you think, doesn’t it?

Some of you are handling bulls’ pizzles on a daily basis.

Oh, and they can be cooked as well…

Not limited to bulls’ pizzles, but also those of pigs and deer.

.

.

.

.

Bull pizzle soup

Bull pizzle soup

Tomorrow’s installment will be on testicles…. still striving for ‘Likes’.

Later, it’s lunch time.

Half a Mind

halfamindI could, if I had half a mind, do the dishes, but then the other half would talk me out of it.

It has.

So, here I am.

Having half a mind stops me from being normal. I tried that once and it was boring.

Today’s routine is pretty similar from yesterday’s. So, I could just link you there and save myself the bother.

One thing I did discover is that some people write vegan as veg*n as a form of vegan/vegetarian. Vega*n, therefore is not a dirty word. I still think it is; we have canine teeth, that means we are carnivores, it’s in our genes. One thing I have discovered in life it that people who are not happy with themselves try to change things that shouldn’t be messed with. Things like baldness, small boobs, vegans…

NB: I like small boobs, so don’t mess with them.

And, those people who are bald, but grow one side long to sweep it over their bald pate; nothing irritates me more, these people are sick in the head. Vanity on overload.

Caution: Pussy break! Cloro is demanding attention. BRB

I had to take a pause to play with my pussy.

I now have a happy pussy, collapsed on the printer, so I can return to blogging.

My prolonged absence yesterday was cool. No untoward damage, and the dirt box outside had been used; so outside it stays. The nastiest smell in my kitchen this morning is freshly brewed coffee. Which indicates that life is not crap today.

likeable-blog-100-2xI missed an important milestone. My Some Animals are Crackers blog got 100 likes. Still has only a couple of visits per day, but I remain hopeful.

Today is Humpday, over the hump down hill to the weekend. Humpday is an important day of the week, it’s just a sign of better things o come, which is not like Mondays, Mondays should be stricken from the record, cancelled, ignored. Mondays are just not nice.

I took another moment off and yanked a fern from beside the yard tap to replant it in a pot in the living room. Looks good. Now all I have to do is convince Cloro that this is not a new toy.

I feel a nap coming on.

Later.

 

 

Life is Crap

outofcoffeecrapI have drunk what was leftover from yesterday; and my eyes are so heavy, I’m too lazy tired to make fresh.

In my post, Sunday Slap Dash, no one picked up that I was talking about Riesling, but posted Sauvignon Blanc. I was, in fact considering Riesling, then discovered the bottle was fizzy, so I swapped canoes in midstream and ended up using the SV, while still thinking Riesling.

vegndirtywordYesterday, I saw a post where vegan was written as veg*n. Is veg*n a dirty word?

Had me wondering.

Then today I saw ‘vegucated’; our language is growing, hopefully organically.

Not much going on today, posted on all blogs and it only took two mugs of coffee, no penises, testicles nor bacon; I ate the last of that last night, horrendously delicious. Today is black beans and pig bits, the Brazilians call it feijoada (black beans and pig bits).

Work starts today at 2pm and finishes at 7:30. It’s my longest day of the week. Cloro does not like this as she is at home all by herself with an advanced license in mischief and nobody to trip up in the kitchen. When I get home, she transforms into a werekitten (lycanthropy), fangs, claws and energy in all directions. Then at bedtime, because she slept all day, she wants to play…

Later.

 

A Bacon Moment

baconloveYesterday’ lunch was a ‘bacon moment’, absolutely delicious and one that I’ll be repeating soon. *Makes note: buy more bacon*

With 11 Likes, it just goes to show that you don’t need testicles and penises in a post to get likes. You are all absolved…

I see MSM got it stuffed up again in the stories of Brazilian prostitutes being sent to Europe and Africa via human trafficking. The girls being trafficked were not prostitutes, but they were required to prostitute themselves at their destinations after being lured there by false promises. I do wish MSM could get their shit right.

Horrific news… McDonald’s is not going to use Heinz sauce any more after 60 years of doing so. The apocalypse is nigh.

A sad Merkle - image BBC

A sad Merkle – image BBC

Merkle was shocked to find that US had been spying on her phone since 2002, Obama denies everything; NSA chief says we didn’t tell him This morning it seems they spied on 60 million Spanish communications in just one month. I wonder who will be next?

Been a slow start this morning. I don’t like rushing headlong into Mondays, best to take it quietly and sneak up on them. The coffee is good. Lunch will be a pork something with the remainder of the mushrooms; maybe a curry in another slap-dash. Leftovers, bacon & asparagus for dinner. Then I must use the pork ribs tomorrow.

Windy overnight, tried to rain a bit, cool and sunny this morning. I haven’t napped yet, but Cloro is doing it now on the printer.

10:45, time fore breakfast, asparagus on toast and more coffee.

Later.

Cloro heard me type breakfast, she’s at the door with a well-what-are-you-waiting-for look on her face.

 

Sunday Slap-Dash

No burning penises or loose testicles in this post, if that’s what turns you on (must be I got so many likes on the last two posts) then I suggest you desist now before disappointment sets in and becomes a moribund fascination…

Sunday is a day to relax.

Unless of course you are religiously tainted, then its a mad panic to scrub the kids and make them look presentable before heading of to church to be relieved of the horrendous angst accumulated through the week. Then you don’t get a chance to relax

ConchayToroRiesling

Great Chilean plonk

But on Sunday I have the luxury of relaxing, because I am not so tainted.

I have blogged today, I have napped today, I have watered the plants today and I have turned the compost over… This is called relaxing.

Having had a replete morning relaxing, I decided on lunch; which one tends to do if one missed breakfast. Well, I had three steaming mugs of coffee.

With my thoughts turned toward lunch, I remembered a recipe I saw yesterday on Kitchen Ventures. I had some of the ingredients, and had to improvise on others.

Prosciutto, for example became bacon.

Asparagus retained its original identity, albeit from a jar.

I didn’t have any wild mushrooms, but they were pretty pissed off by the time I put them in the pan.

Heavy cream became, well, cream.

White wine became a Chilean Cocha y Toro Riesling.

The rest of the ingredients more or less resembled themselves.

The first step in my Seared Prosciiuttoless Asparagus etc… was the wine. The chosen wine needs to breathe. So, open the wine and check; if it’s not breathing, give it mouth to bottle resuscitation.

what i started with

what I started with

I like cooking with wine. As on this occasion, sometimes I even add it to the food.

Once one has ascertained that the wine is, in fact, breathing. One slices good thick rashers off the block of bacon and cooks off to a crisp orangy-goldy colour, which is about the stage before burnt-to-a-crisp.

Take the bacon out and set aside.

bacon

Add oniony garlicky mushroomy things to bacon fat with a sprinkle of rosemary.

stuffinthepan

Stuff in the pan

Cooked off to golden colour, add wine… add a splash more just to be sure.

Reduce… (that does NOT mean tasting it yet!)

While that is reducing, layer the asparagus on the bacon in the tray.

Check that the wine is still alive.

Add pseudo ‘thick cream’, stir, while it thickens a bit, make toast. (Yes, I know this wasn’t in the original recipe!)

Pour sauce over asparagus and bacon, allowing the hot sauce to reheat the bacon and asparagus.

offendingproduct

Offending mixture

Divide off about half the offending mixture and serve on hot buttered toast.

It is about this time that the remaining wine, whether breathing or not, should be dispatched humanely and put out of its misery.

That is a slap-dash, because everything is slapped in the pan with a dash of this and a dash of that. You’ll notice that I haven’t included measurements; if you know what you are doing, they’re irrelevant.

Consume ravishingly while watching The Incredibles. I don’t have cable so I had no choice. The wine makes them bearable.

The rest of the day to relax…

Later, much later.

Picking Peppers

One of my modest chili pepper bushes

I grow chili and cayenne peppers in my small modest garden. I love to watch them grow, first green, then orange and then finally fire red.

Today, I had crops from both bushes ready for harvesting.

There is one important fact that one must bear in mind picking peppers; wash your hands before having a pee.

I learned this the hard way.

In NZ we don’t have chili nor cayenne peppers, at least I have never seen them there. We have the capsicum (bell pepper), but not the hot varieties.

It wasn’t until I came to Brazil that I met ‘real’ peppers.

Brazilians have a jar or bottle of pimenta malageta (chili peppers) in olive oil on the table at every meal (breakfast excluded) much as we westerners have a pepper shaker with white pepper.

Our smoker

Our smoker

But it was in Bolivia, c1999, that I learned my lesson. I was a cook in an American BBQ restaurant called Cowboys  in a small plaza in Santa Cruz de la Sierra.

We served great smoked ribs and various other dishes; one of which was hot beans. We smoked our own meat and cooked our own beans. The beans called for a bag of dried peppers in a 30 litre pot. I’m not sure what kind of peppers, but they were about 8cm (4″) long and they were added to the pot during the cooking.

Soon after adding the peppers to the pot I needed relief. No problem, the beans were on a simmer, so off to the bathroom.

It was soon after my return to the kitchen, that I began to get a strange sensation in the lower region. This strange feeling began to intensify gradually until it was evident that my manhood was on fire.

I soon realised what I had done.

I tried washing the affected parts, I tried cold water, I tried ice cubes in my underpants while dancing in a demented frenzy around the kitchen all the while trying to keep a steady supply of dishes for the dining room. Believe me, that’s no easy task when you are more worried about your manhood than food; and whether it will ever function again.

My boss, who doubled as barman and waiter, caught me dancing a fire maddened fling around the kitchen. I explained the reason for my antics, and he left the kitchen with the ready dish laughing his head off.

I, however, didn’t think it was funny, not in the least.

The kitchen closed at midnight, I had spent an agonising six hours, and then I limped home, a twenty minute walk, a much wiser man, with a still warm, tingling sensation in the nether regions.

My advice to any man who handles raw peppers, WASH YOUR HANDS BEFORE GOING FOR A PEE!

Must blog along.

Later.

Unsupported

These may have a hole, but they still offer support

These may have a hole, but they still offer support

This morning as I changed put on my underpants, I had a decidedly uncomfortable feeling. The gusset in my clean underpants had finally given up the ghost, leaving me without the normal feeling of support.

This is a weird sensation, one that women will never know; a man needs his support.

Speaking of which, I read yesterday in The Press that there are a new fangled type of underpants, I believe for both men and women; they filter your farts. Yes, a miracle carbon filter removes the smell from your farts. This is a social menace, how will people know if you farted if they can’t smell it? Farts are designed to smell, it’s for the benefit of deaf people, they smell for a reason.

I have always taken a philosophical view of farts. I have never been ashamed of my flatulence, and always admit when I have farted; simply because I want people to know that I don’t always smell like this.

Yesterday, I was visited by the bastard bot from Canada again, my blog got an erroneous 1,700 odd hits. Geez, I hate that, it stuffs up my stats something shocking.

I have been following an irreverent blog called Hot Lard for the past few weeks, but the blogger decided it was taking too much of his time, and closed it to open a newer less time consuming blog called ‘nergfoogle‘ so if you have been nergfoogled today, go and check it out.

*yawn*

I do feel a nap coming on…

Later.

Bigger, Faster & Meaner

Bigger, meaner & faster

Bigger, meaner & faster

This is my first post today at 11:15am.

I had an early class at 8:30; the student didn’t arrive, so I needed some therapy to overcome the angst.

Yes, I went shopping!

Yes, I bought my fans. One on a column and the other table top, same brand, both 50cm. The last ones I had were 30cm & 40cm, adequate, but not hurricane-like like these ones.

Sitting here in my underpants (I know, the visual is not becoming, so don’t try) with the wind blasting my right side; and it’s only on half speed.

I fear if I put it on full, it’ll send me juddering into the kitchen. It’s going to play havoc with my coffee temperature. I’ll pour fresh coffee and before I know it, it’ll be iced coffee.

I am set for a comfortable summer.

Still headlines in the news; Prince George is going to have a private christening, how sweet? Hardly news headlines.

Now it’s Germany’s Merkle who’s got her knickers in a twist over spying on her cellphone. Both France and Germany have called for the subject to be put on the agenda for the next EU meeting. I can see the Americans getting a solid crack over the knuckles over this; and so they should.

My early evening students have just canceled, leaving one student at 7pm. It’ll be cooler then to walk to work. Now that we have entered hora da verão (daylight savings) walking to work at 5:30 is a horrid sweaty ordeal.

Oh dear, I napped under the cool breeze and forgot to post… 🙂

Later

 

 

I’m a Pro…

It's Humpday, this rabbit has confused it with Monday

It’s Humpday, this rabbit has confused it with Monday

…crastinator!

I have put off the fan idea for the day. I had a terrible night, not because of the noisy fan, that ran quietly all night, but I was up and down with thirst. I went out for BBQ dinner last night, too much salt in one sitting.

So on waking at 6am yawning, I blogged three, napped one, blogged two… OMG, sounds like I am knitting!

Between that lot, I have read the news, made coffee, answered some comments, and now I am sitting here with a lit cigarette in one hand and half a cigarette burning away in the ashtray. I really need more coffee!

I should have lots to post about this morning afternoon, because I drank quite a lot of creativity fluid (see yesterday’s post) last night. But apart from being a little miffed because Prince George’s christening has been announced as headline news, I am at a loss. Who gives a shit?

The Americans are saying that the 70 million French emails is not true, I am sure that’s a load of bollocks. The Americans have been caught with their pants down and they’re back-peddling like crazy.

The pope has suspended the ‘Bishop of Bling’ from his position while he is investigated for wasting billions of church money on his luxury home which includes a 2.9m euro private chapel.

FaceBook has reversed its position on beheading videos. Good, there are somethings we don’t need to see.

Iran has decided that there’s no need to hang a man twice. He survived the original attempt and was in hospital recuperating for a second try. Various orgs and governments decried the need for a second hanging and as Iran is trying to amend its global reputation, they decided it was in the best interests not to hang him again.

Spain is out of recession… LOL bollocks! A 0.1% growth for one quarter does not represent a recovery, it’s merely a hiccough.

Found this to make you giggle:

onionscoconut

Later.

 

I’m in Between

creativityfluidAnd I’m sweating because it’s not worth shedding my clothes only to put them on again in an hour.

I’m in between one class and the next. I had things so beautifully planned today, five hours straight teaching, then my second student cancelled and made a hole right in the middle.

If this had happened yesterday, I would have expected it. I mean Monday is the day for this type of shit to hit the fan.

I seriously need some creativity fluid.

Talking of fans, I am buying two new ones tomorrow. I have one broken and one that is on crutches and likely to topple at any given moment. Last two days have been 40+ºC (that’s 106+ºF), that’s hot enough to deep fry chocolate left on the bench. Today is not so, but abafado (hot and stuffy). Last night, the fan on crutches was making grating sounds, it took me more than an hour to shut it up and run quietly. The one I have in the bedroom is essential for sleeping and blogging; which means that watching TV raises more than a sweat even with the door and windows open.

I read today that American drone use constitutes a war crime. Let’s see how many Americans are prosecuted. This’ll be interesting.

It was reported on Twitter, during the FaceBook outage yesterday, that there were people roaming the streets with baby photos begging for ‘Likes’.

I saw this yesterday; tickled my fancy…

newtech

I almost felt sorry for the spider.

Later.

%d bloggers like this: