yahoo you or yahoo me, you're a yahoo: dude from austin, texas.

my period: proud to be the one and only result for the yahoo search for "playful, middleaged women who love to perform belly dancing to others on video for free." how? je ne sais pas! dude from austin, texas must've been sorely disappointed to find i was not the playful middleaged woman he sought.

sauerkraut post #2: a song

i love reading cookbooks because i love to cook and love to eat and love to read. while i was reading thru some cookbooks this afternoon, i found a lovely song i thought i'd share with you:

old song about sauerkraut

sauerkraut is bully

sauerkraut is fine;

we ought to know it

for we eat it all the time.

put the cabbage in a "bar'l,"

stamp it with your feet,

when the juice begins to rise

the kraut is fit to eat.

put it in a pot,

set it on to "bile,"

be sure to keep the cover on,

or you'll smell it half a mile.

printed in the Dutch Oven: a cook book of coveted recipes from the kitchens of lunenburg, by the ladies auxilary of the lunenburg hospital society, 1953.

*this cookbook calls for cod or pork fat in almost every recipe, but i love it a lot. it also includes hand-drawn illustrations on every page (many of which are racist or horrendously cruel to animals) and the most racist recipe i've ever seen. what's up, 1953?

if i can't push you into a pit of lava, at least i can talk back to you and not care because THANKFULLY i'll never see you again and if i do i'll....

i just moved the last of my stitches from the only house i've felt at home in while living in halifax. difficult, but i had strict instructions to "not get too emotional" so i pretty much heeded them. i tried to leave a couple of sketchy pieces as sole pieces in a drawer to freak out g's mom-- the single-most negative nancy i've ever known. all i could find was a used lube applicatior (also used for other things) and a burnt weed pipe filter. sorry, meat-- it's all i could find. i drank lots of gin there and checked my email and talked back to her which was second to punching her out and pushing her into a deep pit of red hot lava and sealing it up so the most-ever keen search team would never find her.
on a lighter note, i sold 2/3 of my hot new product today.

one bloody candle for you, my period.

happy birthday dear blog/ happy birthday dear blog/ happy birthday my period/ happy birthday dear blog. you are a big fantastic one year old today (but i like you so much i'm using three extra candles). check it. i dedicate my one year anniversary entry to emilar, who altho sceptical, was around for my period's conception.

i'll be flounder's bat any day for twenty dollars.

i just found the extra $20 i thought i spent getting trashed. seems i did get drunk on the usual amount of whisky. perhaps anger and speediness helped me along.

our vegan meatza complete with three types of meat analogues: faux feta, veggie bacon, and marinated tvp.  

my week in an eh to zed format

eh) wednesday brought a rep dinner including chickpea nori salad and peatty scotch whisky at the wooden monkey. included were good times and a free product of my choice.
be) i made jam thursday. seriously-- strawberry jam. it was my first time. it rocks my socks off everytime it touches my tongue.
ci) thursday was mustache and the new tragedies at gus's. a stupid army guy tried to get to know me, but did a terrible job. the show was killer. lots of great stunts. gives me chills!
dee) i got my first cheque for writing an article (due to be published in october). it's nice to actually get paid for this finally.
eeee!) friday we made amazing kamut pizza and vegan meatza the other day. so effin' good.
eff) my brother and i saw a really bizarre light in the sky. neon green and streaky. probably UFOs or something else. pretty trippy. documentation attempted and failed.
gee) i don't actually hate my job most of the time.
eightch) i won the soundtrack to it's all gone pete tong, but haven't picked it up yet.
eye) i'm obsessed with contests.
jay) soy yogourt is amazing.
kay) the two days where i didn't look at the people around me-- at how they perceived me or at what they were wearing or at them at all was very telling. i was uberkeen to be alive because i didn't give six shits about anyone else. note to self: do this more often.
elle) saturday, lucia and i went to oneworld cafe to see laura peek and mark grimson. peek was amazing, as per usual. she made a citrusy cake with coconutty frosting and it was rad. mark grimson is a new fave. i was overemotional and almost lost it.
em) we also went to the breezy waterfront to see zuppa circus's open theatre kitchen where ben eats a raw onion and more. triggered many heartstrings. the soup was fucking astounding after watching them prepare it, and it being a chilly eve.
ehn) my ex- mother in-law is a bigger raging bitch than i even imagined. she came to freak out at me at work on sunday.
oh!)i tried to make several gifts for crm for his birthday and failed miserably on many of them. i lost general greivous's head for the card, the bath bombs didn't set, the tiramisu was probably less than extraordinary.
pee)sunday was the ole birthday. ran into him on the street. he looked fly and carried armloads of fabulous gifts. had lovely and sad talks. made pacts to not be sad. kept said anti-sad pact for several hours.
cue) spent sunday night finishing up gifts, not looking inward like i should have been.
are) myself, g, em, and crm went to stage nine for shadowplay where glenn played a good gothy set and crm yelled for michael jackson. we wore black. some did not and felt odd and left (or didn't make it at all) even tho we, nor anyone else would care.
ess) proceeded to drink a fuckload of whisky and water. decided before i went to get fairly drunk. this always works.
tea) had a couple of breakdowns. cried in the bathroom and not in the bathroom. was fine. had a pretty good time. rocked out.
you) after a couple calls, was admitted to the VIP room at the palace (i'd never been to the palace before, and was told this doesn't count-- phew!). don't remember much of this. met lots of casinofolk. got tired of crying for no reason, decided to leave without telling anyone but crm. walked home and cried the whole way. i'm not so sure why, but it's funny now.
vee) told my brother all about it. laughed a lot, probably lost it a couple of times. tried to vomit.
double you) woke up in my clothes, having not written in my journal, taken my black pills, with a garbage can beside me. unbeknownst to me, i threw up, passed out in the bathroom for an hour and spent twice the money i remember spending. daddy goodtimes. thanks for taking care of me, bro.
ex) spent yesterday totally hung over. got up. ate. went back to bed. dreampt of mice again. got up. smoked. went to one world with bro and had dahl and rice and a wicked salad. smoked. ate. watched family guy. smoked. watched night gallery. ate. went to bed again.
why?)i'm about to launch my first product. helped design a logo with mat. more later.
zed) enjoyed a good day with maven. ate sushi and dio mio. made out on the hill and the balcony. the night's not over.

PAL/VIP

hungover today. missing pieces. more tomorrow.

jack on, jack off

maven and jack (taken on murray's lawn). jack's a mega-life-sized wooden sculpture of a Blackwatch soldier complete with medals earned by murray or someone else. he was created with a chainsaw. jack's a cool cat that makes everyone smile photogenically and he has a speaker under his kilt so murray can talk to children from his house. jack is a cool cat and was instrumental in making murray's 65th birthday a success in 1995.  

hey baie-- way okay

our small vaykay was awesome. maven and i bussed up to the baie and spent two and a half days with my parents and puppy and everyone seems reasonably keen on each other- so that's rad. went swimming in the cold but not-so-cold-right-now northumberland straight in a pseudo-swimsuit that really didn't do the trick at all. i was forever tit-flashing everyone, but i made do. really fucking relaxing, was in the nude enough, and i even got a little sun-stain on my goth coating. blah (but probably i look better now). crappily, the stars weren't out at the end of the road-- too cloudy-- but hey. lots of making clams piss and feet in slippery clay and sinky muck and sand in the crack of my ass and everywhere and lots of kissing and reading on the old-people patio swing and lots of sighs of blissful disbelief. picked hellloads of un-sprayed strawberries-- the ones the crows and squirrels didn't maw on. picked crow's feet (a.k.a. sandfire greens and i've also just now learned, mouse nipples) on the marsh for dilem, gathered bladderwrack from the rocks to make pudding. mom made vegan carob chip and molasses cookies, potato salad with ridiculously wonderful tangy homemade mayo, tofu "chicken" fingers, vegetable soup with a lot of umph, pancakes and a million other dishes to make me phat. nextdoor, murray added life-sized geese and horses to the clan of other law-ornaments. someday i'll post more photos of murray's lawn-- because it's amazing. scored big at PEDVAG, each of us scoring a cute sweater, a frame, an ashtray, a few gifts and an object from which we'll construct the sweetest bong ever. cheap score at $4.25 all told. eff yeah.

revenue canada might be proud

sometimes being gemini is very taxing.

by the beard of zeus, i'm smiling

1) we got a new fridge because my brother stabbed our freezer with a butter knife and hammer while trying to defrost it. it's even smaller and shittier than our last one, but somehow it's way more rad.

2) the star wars themed episode of the muppet show starring mark hamil is the best television appearance by a celebrity ever.

3) everything is pretty cool right now.

am i impatient, or are you just a dick fuckslut?

it's not terribly often that i bitch about or even mention work, but this weekend warrants mention. holy fucking shit, people. taking charge of your health means actually doing research-- yes, that means reading books, magazines (Canadian ones, not women's day or women's world and not just the ads), and medical journals. the internet is not your doctor, but if you learn to use the internet, you could find out how much gluten is in barley if it fucking even mattered and you weren't just trying to waste my time and yours.

"hi, i'm losing my hair, i have an acidic stomach which is also fat i just can't seem to lose weight i don't have time to eat vegetables i try to eat well but i just can't i think your pills made my stomach hurt i also am an asshole who wants to eat up all your time yes i've seen a naturopath but she doesn't even know what to say to me anymore if i take these pills will it help will it help the four problems i have will i lose weight will i get my hair back will my stomach stop hurting will it help my thyroid will it help me be less demanding and annoying and such a slut and what is the difference between this and that and will this also do that and that and that and do you have one cheaper and that's easier to swallow when do i take this how much is it will it work when will i see it work....."

i actually walked away from this customer, told her i'd come back and never did. in fact, i strategically avoided her.

yesterday i kicked a box and pulled my hair while talking to a customer and threw styrofoam in his direction. my throat actually hurt from repeating myself (oh, and from complaining about him) like 4 times per fact, even though he understood exactly what i was talking about-- he's just a fuckwad. he was in the store for about three hours. i almost blew a gasket.

stop fucking bothering me.

i get paid precious little money. i'm not a doctor. i'm not a dietitian. i'm not your gall bladder or your husband or you-- how about you make your own decision? go home and eat your mother's ass for lunch. i can't help you because you don't know what's wrong with you except that you have a horrible diet and personality. come back when you're a decent, sentient human being, and not a minute before. i don't know how you'll digest wehani rice and i actually don't fucking care. i don't care that you can't swallow that capsule-- try harder, you fucking pussy.

don't ask how much it is when the price is on the top don't ask about something that you don't even care about don't interrupt me when i'm talking to someone else don't ask me to order something obscure and interrogate me, a fucking vitamin clerk, unnecessarily because you didn't do say your buddhist rosaries be nice to someone this week just once you piece of jerk.

ok, i'm impatient, but you're still a dick fuckslut.

morning mud

in the morning, the mud on the commons is purple (and i like it).

you brought her, you picnic (er, um, yeah)

most. amazing. day. ever.

after many choice words of the complicated, edgy and melancholy nature, we decided to say fuck it and give it a go in the wild. shopped for groceries. packed soy mayo in a tiny baby mustard jar. made sandwiches, prepared other foodies for picnic and headed off up route6away, into the woods, along the tracks (which oddly had me feeling very petranoid) and thru the brambles and thickets scratchyscracthscratch up into the coolest clearing ever where nobody treads but my lover. he had built an amazing inukshuk, a cock-n-ball and a coupla random piles of rocks. i was so inuit that i stripped off and ran around the rocks, letting the dry moss crunch beneath my feet. we smoked our prepared bowl, and settled in for the coolest, sexiest picnic ever.

we enjoyed:

-samosas

-rye and kamut sandwiches with hicory-smoked tofurkey slices with greens and soy mayo

-calamyrnia figs

-plump and juicy thompson's raisins

-peach soy yogourt

-carrots

-carob coconut chews

it was surreal. i was so high i choked on my samosa because it felt like it was swelling in my throat when i tried to speak and laugh and recall stupid observations. then some specific oral action, during which i saw verdant meadows full of hundreds of pink bunnies bouncing in synch amid brilliant yellow flowers. that, and hundreds of other ulta-saccharine (but heavenly) images for about 20 blissful minutes. we found the water reserve, once again stripped down and dipped in the lake. i used to hate lakes because i'm an ocean snob, but this was phenomenal. we did less swimming than i expected, yet we were in the water a long time. and no, HRM, we didn't screw in your water reserve. the night continued to be awesome at home, minus the discovery of 15 or so horrific-looking bug bites, 8 or so of which are on my neck. looks like, but unfortunately isn't, evidence of a vampire gang-rape. despite the lack of vampire gang-rapes, the day exceeded any princess and pony/barbie dream house/pessimist-idealist expectations i'd been gathering of the perfect dreamy afternoon.

best. fucking. picnic. ever.

thanks, maven.

my old black hole

look into my wound: i feel like a fuck. i mope. i read but can't stay awake. i rub satin on my face and breasts. i listen to scandanavian symphonic metal or german industrial or something angry and european. i drink water. i wish i were different, or that you were.perhaps we feel like punching each other, but i'm sure it's still love. i wish i was in the chilly sea last summer when love was always in the air even if it wasn't supposed to be. i'm hungry, yet have no will to eat. two days ago everything was perfect-- isn't perspective a serious fucker? loud music is so much more satisfying when i'm mad-- it's like cutting yourself for your ear canals. german industrial with closed eyes puts me in a smoky goth bar, wasted and smoking black clove cigarettes and having huge german men and women kiss me while i dance. when i open my eyes, i'm only here in front of my screen and i'd rather spit blood. i'm reading canlit that couldn't speak more to me now. i've read it time and time again, but this time i too, feel consumed. everything is more relevant now. please go reread all the shit you read when you were a know-it-all, done-it-all teenager. you will laugh piss when you see the layers you never suspected. perhaps it hurts plenty more, but introspection is fun (then why are you crying?/good question). ass ass double ass. ass bananas.

what happened to the days of yore?

where is the shit you've been looking for?

where is the basket you want so badly?

it's hollow and broken, go cry to your daddy.