Eeek! A Penis!

Again maybe? I feel like I've already titled a post with this, but oh well. Here's a lovely little picture I came across today:



And for those out there who doubt Taylor Lautner's possible GAYGAYGAYness, watch:

Top 50 Tracks of 2009

Every year my friend djm compiles a list of his favorite songs of the year. Usually I've never heard of most of them, but I'm proud to say I already have a fair portion of these. I guess I'm hipper than last year? He always helps me discover new songs/artists, so check it out!

50. Better Off As Two - FrankMusik [note: I think the original mix of "Confusion Girl" beats this]

49. Boys & Girls (feat. Dragonette) - Martin Solveig

48. Walkabout (w/ Noah Lennox) - Atlas Sound

47. White Jetta - Casiotone For The Painfully Alone

46. Feel It All Around - Washed Out

45. Change of Heart - El Perro del Mar

44. Swing Tree - Discovery

43. Dancers - Circlesquare

42. Bad Romance - Lady GaGa

41. Blinking Pigs - Little Dragon

40. This Love Is Fucking Right - The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

39. Daniel - Bat For Lashes

38. If I Had A Heart - Fever Ray

37. It's What I Want (feat. Svein & Torbjorn) - Röyksopp

36. Goodbye Horses - Fan Death

35. Actor Out Of Work - St. Vincent

34. Who Can Say - The Horrors

33. Skeleton Boy - Friendly Fires

32. She Wolf - Shakira [note: seriously, fuck this Shakira singing in English business. Download "Loba," the Spanish version instead]

31. I'm Not Your Toy - La Roux

30. Love Long Distance - Gossip

29. Seven - Fever Ray

28. A Better Love - El Perro del Mar

27. Young Adult Friction - The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

26. Daylight - Matt & Kim

25. Magic - Ladyhawke

24. Bits & Pieces - Junior Boys

23. Little Secrets - Passion Pit

22. New in Town - Little Boots

21. The Girl And The Robot (feat. Robyn) - Röyksopp

20. Die Slow - HEALTH

19. Mirrorball - Crayon Fields

18. Heart Skipped A Beat - The XX

17. My Step - Little Dragon

16. Royal Ruffian (Steed Lord Club Mix) - Steed Lord

15. Solid Gold - The Golden Filter

14. Whole New Way - The Horrors

13. Heavy Cross - Gossip

12. Lose You - Peaches

11. Pearl's Dream - Bat For Lashes

10. Zero - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

09. Isabella - Teenagersintokyo

08. Dominos - The Big Pink

07. You Don't Have A Clue (feat. Anneli Drecker) - Röyksopp

06. I Am Not A Robot - Marina and the Diamonds

05. I Won't Kneel - Groove Armada

04. Into The Clouds - The Sound of Arrows

03. In For The Kill - La Roux

02. 1901 - Phoenix

01. Bulletproof - La Roux

Doodoo 5

. . .

Two days ago I had another strange dream. I was living in an orphanage with my mother. She looked just like my real mother, but in this case she was a little person and my adoptive mother. All the other kids were also little people, but I was my regular size. For some reason, everyone was dressed in brilliant shades of indigo and cerulean. The kids were all singing an unfamiliar song in a language I couldn't understand, and there were subtitles in my dream which I couldn't read. My mother was in a rocking chair, holding me in her lap. I was sobbing and telling her how much I loved her and how grateful I was that she had adopted me. I think it's a guilt dream. My brother and I keep having to postpone visiting our mother, and it's been a while since I've seen her. Well technically she visited me in June, but I was knocked the fuck out from leg surgery and so loopy that I don't remember any of it. We've been talking a lot more recently, which pleases me. I always worry that I won't have anything to say or report to her, but I've found a fool-proof topic: cooking. I have her to thank for my interest in cooking, and I've realized there's always bonding to be done over variations on hollandaise sauce.

Swollen. . . Turgid. . . Tumescent?

Since the last time I posted about the gay fantasy books I planned on reading, I've finished the trilogy. I have mixed feelings about the Kirby Crow Scarlet and the White Wolf series. The overall story was interesting enough to keep me reading but certainly not riveting. I recommend them as good shit books. Keep them by your toilet to peruse while you relieve yourself. What's it called when you masturbate while taking a dump? I'm sure there's a word for it. The sexual tension between the main characters in the first book was drawn out and well played. Their love is almost believable. It made more sense than the Twilight books, and I guess that's good enough for me. They didn't have sex until the second book, and I thought it would be a hot reward after waiting so long, but it was awkward. Previous encounters mentioned noticing someone's rigid "sex," "members" other such typical romance book language that attempts to validate erotica. When the time came for Scarlet and his wolf (not a literal wolf, thank you, that's a whole nother genre) to. . . consummate their relationship, bitch brought it to the gutter. She busted out words like "cock" and "cum." I felt disappointed that she remained classy for so long only fall right into cock talk. Not that it wasn't hot, it just wasn't cohesive to how the rest of the story was told. I only had a couple other problems with the books. First of all, there were contradictions in descriptions everywhere. One sentence a man looks nothing like his evil brother, then two sentences later they bear a striking resemblance that is uncanny. I blame the editor. Then Ms. Crow (yes, miss. it may surprise you to know that the majority of gay romance and yaoi authors are female) nuked the motherfucking fridge. She went straight up Anne Heche-Celestia and threw in an alien twist at the end. Why? Why did you have to do that? Isn't it enough that a giant Viking king is fucking a magical elf?

Doodoo 4

Doodoo 3

Doodoo 2

Hannukah Cake

My contribution to our holiday dinner was preparing a dessert with my cousin. We decided to make a chocolate almond cake from a Julia Child recipe. We doubled it so we could stack them. Here's the recipe:

REINE DE SABA (Chocolate and Almond Cake)CAKE:

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoon granulated sugar
6 large eggs, separated
2 pinches salt
8 ounces semisweet chocolate, melted with 4 tablespoons brewed coffee
2/3 cup finely pulverized (ground) almonds
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1 1/2 cups sifted cake flour, returned to sifter

CHOCOLATE BUTTER ICING:2 ounces semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
2 tablespoons brewed coffee
6 tablespoons unsalted butter


Instead of buttering and flouring a cake pan, use parchment paper. Just line two 8-inch diameter cake pans that are at least 1 1/2 inches deep with the paper. This will make your life so much easier. I am never greasing a damn pan again. Martha Stewart would be proud. In a 3-quart mixing bowl, cream butter and 1 1/3 cups sugar together with an electric mixture for several minutes until mixture is fluffy and pale yellow. Beat in egg yolks until well blended. Beat egg whites and pinch of salt in medium bowl until soft peaks form. Add remaining 2 tablespoon sugar and beat until stiff peaks form. Fold chocolate mixture into butter-sugar mixture, then stir in almonds and almond extract. Alternate folding in a portion of the egg whites and sifting some of the flour in until they're all together. Turn batter into prepared cake pan and bake on middle rack of a preheated 350-degree oven, about 25 minutes or until cake has puffed and 2 1/2 to 3 inches around the circumference are set so that a cake tester in that area comes out clean. That's how long the recipe says to bake it, but ours was done in more like 15 minutes. Julia says to melt the chocolate in a bowl over a pot of simmering water, but eff that noise. Pop that shit in the microwave. No problem. We actually ran out of chocolate, but as it happened, our G-Ma (we were cooking at her house) had some 20-year-old Hannukah gelt, so we mixed in what we needed. Beat butter into chocolate, a tablespoon at a time. Place the icing in the fridge to set up a little for spreading consistency.

We actually made a different icing for the center layer between the two cakes. This is it:

2 cups powdered sugar

1/2 stick softened butter

2 tbsp brewed coffee

1 tsp almond extract

1/8 tsp salt

1 tsp cocoa, sweetened or not, whatever.

Just mix the shit together, and it will be ready for the middle layer.

Spread the middle icing on top of one cake, place the other cake on top, and trim the edges if you think it will make icing it easier. Spread the chocolate icing all over. We then placed sliced almonds all around the outside of the cake before placing it in the fridge to set. Leave it out for maybe an hour at room temp before serving. I individually placed the slices on the cake, while my cousin sort of threw them at the cake. The picture at the top of the post is my side, and the one below is hers. It looked. . . special, and certainly tasted no less delicious!

Happy Jesus Day

The Christmas texts have already begun. I got one from an ex that at least seems personalized. Although it's possible, and funny to imagine, he's probably not calling his mother handsome. Then I got a "Merry X-Mas" graphic mass text that was FWD:FWD:FWD:FWD:RE:FWD:FWD from an old booty call. Don't you wish you could remove your number from other people's phones? Anyway, my gift to you is this picture of a little chocolatier's caterpillar arm:

Good Morning

I left my brother a little present on his car this morning:

Brittany Murphy Is, Like, Totes Dead

Update: no more "probs," this is for realsies :(


It's not confirmed, but TMZ is reporting that Brittany Murphy is deadles. She supposedly went into cardiac arrest this morning. You know what that means--DRUGS! Oooooh now the waiting game begins. What was she on! Okay, I'm guessing cocaine, meth, & probably a few prescription drugs for good measure. This is so weird! This morning I was watching that movie Spun, where she plays a meth-faced crack whore. Odd coincidence.

One More Thing

It hit me this morning that I left out a funny part of my hooker story. I don't know how it came up, but the question of whether or not Celeste was employed with male hookers arised. She said that she worked with a very pretty guy who dresses in women's clothing, and she could have him come over. Look, I'm all about a tranny. I love you, ladymen, but just not that way. Thanks, but no thanks.

Dead In The Eyes

I met a dude yesterday with a milky eye. It was kind of awesome. He was adorable and looked like the old man from Up (see previous post for fun: Up) but with a portable oxygen tank and a creepy, dead gypsy eye. He was charming and hilarious, and I was surprised to find that his eye didn't make me uncomfortable. My only concern was milky eye etiquette. When looking someone in the eye when he speaks, as is polite, is it rude to look into the milky one? Or just look at it and pretend it isn't weathered and useless?

Magic Smize

Remember those "magic eye" images from back in the day? The first time I saw the hidden image, I remember being so thrilled. Even after all this time, it only took me a few seconds to do it again. It's like riding a bike, or shanking a punk bitch and stealing his wallet. Way to go, body, for being able to accomplish what most people can! I also figured out that if you cross your eyes, you can invert the image so it recedes into the page rather than pops out toward it. It's fun? Anyway, have a good time with these. Make sure to click on them to see the full size. The one below might surprise you!

Doodoo 1

Sopapilla Bastardization

A guest at the party I went to yesterday brought "Mexican sopapillas." No. No she didn't. She brought a WASPy debasement of the traditional recipe. The way she described them as "Mexican sopapillas" conjured an image of a work-weathered Aztec woman in a colorful zarape she weaved herself, arduously kneading the tortilla dough with five small children crawling over her who then slaves over her wood stove to fry the dough strips, only to then stuff them with the traditional Mexican cheesecake filling. What? Look bitch, ain't no cream cheese in a real sopapilla. Get yoself learnt.

Songs To Wake Up To

Tamago Onii Shiro

I don't really speak Japanese, but an interest in sushi, anime, and videogames has allowed me to construct a feeble dictionary on my own. I made a yummy recipe for hard-boiled eggs for a party yesterday.

White Devil Eggs

(notice I didn't write "white deviled eggs," and you'll see that it's due to a key ingredient)

18 large eggs

1/2 tsp. salt

1/3 cup ranch dressing

1 - 2 tbsp. wasabi paste to taste

5 strips bacon, finely diced

I invented this recipe one night a long time ago when I was starving, broke and had almost nothing in my apartment. It was either eat the shit separately or try to make something delicious. I like to think I accomplished the latter. Of course I only had maybe 4 eggs and remnants of the other ingredients, but I've tweaked the proportions here.

Boil the eggs in a large pot. If you don't know how to do this, throw yourself out a fucking window, because life isn't going to be very rewarding for you. I used a giant pot and boiled all the eggs in already-roiling water for 15 minutes if you must know. Remove the eggs, and place them in the fridge to cool. This takes a while, so I let them chill over night. What? Plan ahead, assholes.

Chop the bacon, and cook it in a pan at medium heat until fully browned. Obviously don't use butter or oil since the bacon releases its own (I almost just wrote LUBE. We all know what's on my mind) fat to cook in. If this isn't obvious to you, and you don't live in secluded woods and speak pidgin English you learned from your stroked-out mother, please jump out the window again. It should be open since the last time you did it and were either reincarnated or somehow resuscitated.

While the bacon is cooking, shell the eggs. An easy way to do this is to lightly crack them on a flat surface, then roll them against it under the palm of your hand, ensuring that it breaks all around the egg. If you think you might have some shell bits on the egg still, I find it useful to dip the eggs in a small bowl of water.

Cut the eggs lengthwise into halves. Remove the yolk, setting them in a bowl and the whites on whatever serving dish you wish. If you're feeling particularly fancy, you can put the yolks in a blender or food processor to break them up, but I find a large spoon works just as well. Do this, and mix in the salt, ranch dressing, and wasabi. Mix it well, and add more wasabi if you like it hot. I like the kick wasabi gives, so I used about 2 tablespoons. Here's the fun part: place the mixture in the bottom corner of a large Ziploc-style plastic bag. Twist it so there's no excess air in the bag. Cut the tip of the corner off so you can use it like a pastry bag. Pipe the mixture into the egg halves, being as pretentious as you like with the pattern.

Sprinkle those bitches with the bacon bits, and they're done!

Memory

I often use the notepad on my phone to make lists of things I want to post here. This morning though, instead of making it in my phone, I figured I could just remember. To do so, I made a list of keywords:





Egg pumps mermaid, milky prostitute.





That's a lovely and confusing image, isn't it?

My Kinda Shit

The other day I was thinking about how much I love a good fantasy novel. I've never read one with a focus on a homosexual character though. I just read some that included a gay character, but he was dandy, lame, and died quickly. I thought to myself that I should write tasteful fantasy fiction with gay characters. Then I stumbled across a blog yesterday that features books with gay themes. I took a risk and ordered a series of gay fantasy books to arrive Monday or so, and I'm hoping they're great. I want great fiction that just happens to be about gay characters. None of this Christopher Rice bullshit. When I was in high school and not out, I was all about reading trashy gay books, but they just don't cut it now. I expect more from a book, not just excuses for a plot that kill time between sex scenes. So in the next month or so I'll try to do some reviews of these books--if I can make it through them. There's only one book I've ever purposefully not finished. I think I might go back some day and read it, just because it bothers me.

The Better To Bang You With

brother: I can't, I'm having lunch with J**** and her grandma.


me: (hip thrusting & slapping an imaginary ass) gonna tap that old ass?


brother: no.


me: gonna run a train on that old bitch?

Coming To A Gitmo Near You

I was preparing a delicious dish for a get-together today which required that I boil about 18 eggs. When I was transferring them to a bowl to cool in the fridge, a thought occurred to me. I don't think people realize just how fucking hot those bastards are out of the pot and how long they retain heat. For some reason, this made me think of a twisted torture technique. Put a just-boiled egg up a terrorist's ass! OMG. We'd find Bin Laden in a heartbeat. Trust.

Schnockers

I'm going to have to take another time to devote to the absurdity that is MTV's Jersey Shore. Basically it's awful and amazing. Best of all, it's introduced to the world the beautiful flower that is Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi. She's a drunken mess of a slut, and obvs spends way too much time giving herself skin cancer. Bitch has gone beyond orange and is. . . shit I don't even know. Burnt sienna? She made an ass of herself the first night and drank herself sick then passed out and missed the real party. She then tried to hook up with a guy who ended up getting sick & I guess even she won't kiss a guy who just vomitted. I suppose she does have standards after all. Like two of them. She loves being the center of attention at near-empty bars performing for old alcoholics. She's all about doing back handsprings and walkovers that show off her thong. She's clearly not an attention whore. But there's something so endearing about her! Perhaps it's because she's technically a little person. Her antics would not fly coming from an amazonian skank. That wouldn't be cute. Everyone's seen how she got punched in the face in last night's episode even though MTV made a faux-moral decision at the last second not to air the punch itself. Since we hadn't all seen it 23,049 times. Then afterward, they showed a message about violence against women. They took all the fun out of it! Last week I watched her get rocked in the face by a dude in slow motion over and over, and I laughed my ass off! Taking out the actual moment of impact and seeing it in context is actually very sad. I think the guy might have meant to punch the other dude but instead mashed an already ruined face. After the moment of blackness, they cut to Snooki lying crumpled on the ground, clutching her face. She's now like a retarded puppy :( You feel sorry for her and just want to take care of her. If she shits on the rug, it's okay, it's not her fault, she's special.

Fantastic Fantastic

(Look at those gams!)

Yesterday I woke up with Beyonce's "Single Ladies" running through my mind. Yuck. I hate that song! Why did that happen? All I could hear for 10 minutes after waking was that bullshit. I thought it was a bad omen, but nothing terrible seemed to happen. I can only assume that yesterday saw the birth of the antichrist somewhere in the world. December 17, 2009. Write that shit down. Today I woke up immediately in a great mood because the cast of Glee's rendition of "Don't Stop Believing" was in my head. And guess what? It's been a great day!

Happy Birthday!

To my blog. I realized today is the one-year anniversary of starting this blog. I haven't been posting as much as I'd like to, so I'll try to be more attentive. I've compiled a sort of greatest hits list of entries below:

A Ballad About Female Genital Mutilation (the audio doesn't work anymore, but still fun)

This One Time. . .


Futuramadrama

My First And Final Face-First Foray Into Furburger

Singing In The Rain

Holy Racism, Batman!

Gambling's Bad, Mmmkay?

Die, Yuppie Cunt

Can You Say "Puta?"

Real Housewives' Alex McCord Fanfic

A Letter of Resignation from Paris Hilton's Vagina
Oooh Baby,Let Me Fix My Weave

Trancient History

Haifiveku

Star Text

Spidercorn

"Shia LaBarf"

Oops

Lazy-Smized

Let's Paint, Exercise, and Have Miscarriages

Termites

The Bends

But Was It Rape-Rape?




p.s. I had a dream last night that I decapitated Mischa Barton with a whip.

Would You Rather. . .

I just saw two pictures of a guy with long hair. In one, he has curly hair. In the other, he has straight hair. This leads me to the question of questions--which is worse? A guy who actually takes time to flat iron his crazy curly hair or a guy who perms it???

Sleeping Booty

I purchased pornographic material recently for only my second time ever. I always figured there was no point in paying when so much is freely available online. Speaking of inherent stinginess, Happy Chanukah! Anyway, the first time was a subscription to a website that featured guys doing sexual exploits while smoking. What?!? I enjoyed it at the time. It's a thing. I really only got the recent one because I discovered a "model" I became very fond of. I did my stalker thing and found Derrek Diamond's blog which led me to his Twitter account. I figured I'd get a kick out of seeing what he could possibly be twatting about. Perhaps:

-fisting: don't knock it till you've tried it

-don't blow air up my ass and tell me i'm farting

-this isn't your father's interracial gangbang

?

Unfortunately his Twitter account is locked! It's by invite only, like the way sex is supposed to be! I went ahead and requested to be a follower, and he accepted. The surprising part is that he added himself as a follower of my account. Now I find myself feeling the need to impress him with my tweets! Is this normal? I try to be funny, and I don't post 20 per day detailing my bowel movements and every waking thought. Although I bet that might be entertaining. The point is I feel suddenly pressured to dance, monkey, dance! for a guy I don't even know who makes a living wrestling naked in baby oil, having sex and performing solo with a sodomy machine. I want him to write about the REALLY interesting stuff on his blog. What is life after porn? Are you going to be a cliche and become a porn director, or do you plan to open a muffin store? Does your family know what you do for a living? If so, how did you tell them? What's the nastiest experience you've had in the industry? What's the shadiest? How did you get your start? How does your partner of almost 9 years truly feel about your career? Would you be okay with him doing porn? Were you abused in any way as a child? What's your relationship like with your parents? Is there anything sexual that you won't do with a scene partner but will only do with your life partner? These are the meaty questions! Maybe I'll try to get in contact with him for an interview. I'll have to find an angle and an actual reason to justify it. Gears are turning. . .

Flirting Fail

I winked at a cute, scruffy waiter at dinner tonight. It didn't work. Either he was straight, or he could see my balding spot. I've never felt that I excel at flirting, but sometimes it's fun to do it just for the hell of it. I once whistled at a guy across the street while going home from a gay bar in Arizona. He actually came over to talk to me, and he was really cute, if a little short. However, when he got to my side of the street, I found I didn't really have anything to say. I only whistled at him to see if it would work, never considering that it actually would. He proceeded to tell me about how he was a Mormon and was trying to fight temptation, yada yada yada, GAY SEX. Sodomy happens, get over it.

But Was It Rape-Rape?

I had another strange dream this morning. It was about rape, and it was kind of funny--stay with me here. I was in some woman's bedroom with a few other people. The woman was alternating between appearing to be Kathleen Turner and Morgan Fairchild (which was pretty fierce). Her look went as follows:

She wore a shimmering burnt orange wrap gown with gold accents and a high emperess collar: totally something Oprah would wear to the Legends Ball. Now that you've got the imagery down, I'll tell you that she was showing off her closet full of other fantastic dresses to us. She'd hold up an ensemble and let us know what it cost her.

The first--"Forty-thousand dollars."

The second--"Forty-thousand and a handjob."

The third--"Rape."

The fouth--"Rape-adjacent."

What What WHAT?

I don't know how it's possible, but I somehow missed the new episode of Glee last week. I didn't realize it until the "previously on Glee" recap at the beginning of this week's episode. How did this even happen? I definitely remember setting it to record and being mildly interested that Eve was going to be a guest star. At this point, I'm pretty sure someone is working major voodoo on me. How else would I miss a performance by such a fantastic rapper/blacktress?

FIRST of all, my favorite phrase in the existence of language was used: CLOWN HOOKER! Score! It doesn't get much better than that.

Eve's choir group performs "Bootylicious," and it's a little insane. It begins with a personalized version of the intro: "Jaelle, can you handle this? Shanonda, can you handle this? Aphasia, can you handle this?" For those of you unfamiliar with it, I'd like to inform you that aphasia is an acquired language disorder cause by brain lesions. Remember Queens of Comedy? Adele Givens had a bit in her set about women giving their children names they can't live up to. She said something like "Champagne? More like a forty. And not a nice one. The kind of forty you bust on a curb to cut a bitch with." Here's this episode's version: "Loquacia? Stuttering bitch is more like Aphasia." That's highbrow comedy right there. "Bootylicious" is filled with "hairography": smoke and mirrors, or in this case, racism and the sexualization of supposed minors.

And an Asian girl playing keyboards with weave down to her knees.

Then there's the deaf choir. Yes, you read that right. This one isn't just a Happy Hands club like in Napoleon Dynamite. It had full on deaf singing. It's quite a sight/sound. It was supposed to be touching and heart-warming, but I couldn't help letting loose a few chuckles at first. Color me evil.

p.s. I just stumbled across Adele Given's MySpace page, and it's kind of amazing. Here's how I know: the first link I saw on Google was to a blog entry entitled "I dont be got no weave." Another tidbit: with all the updating how come so many people i know still have a bad weave?....please people...bring yaki back-i....or take it to the (bald) head cuz." Then puts the ghetto icing on the hood cake with "uh oh, gotta go, the real housewives of atlanta is on...lol."

Fuckin' Behemoth

While Google-ing a Julia Child recipe, I came across an interesting fact: for many years, she was an ardent homophobe. She was known to toss around "fag" and complain about all the homos in the U.S. She used some French term, pedalo, and even referred to a cooking school as a "nest of homovipers." I guess she changed her tune in the late 1980s when AIDS claimed the lives of some of her friends. You know what, you big Amazonian bitch? Too little, too late. Your hollandaise sauce recipe doesn't even call for vinegar, asshole. Kindly go fuck yourself sideways with a chainsaw.