Off-Book

Apparently there's a reasonable danger of this blog just turning into "Things I Consume".  That said, adventures in bark!

The only thing fat-free about this is the pictures.  So lucky you!  Now originally it was supposed to be two layered and macadamia nuts but being me, well when do I not go off recipe? "You can't tell me what to do, instructions!  You're not my mom!"  Though in my defence, this time it was an accident.  Partially.

No macadamia nuts, so I replaced them with almonds, hazelnuts, pecans  and the occasional walnut.  Then took a hammer to that shit.  Warning: this procedure may miss some nuts entirely while turning others to powder.  (Fine for taste, just depends on the texture you're after.)  I took a knife to some of the remaining whole ones to slit them in halves for managability.

So poured the first layer (Dark chocolate) and decided it would be better to mix half the nuts in so to capture them between layers (already off-book!) - as opposed to just on top.

Second layer was to be white chocolate but it turned out I didn't have enough... BUT I did have butterscotch chips!  Which are delicious in a way that works with all the flavours and also light coloured (this mattered because I planned on dying this layer red).  Unfortunately I did not consider that butterscotch chips have a different texture and aren't really....melty in the way I needed.  Adding eggnog helped make it a little more viscous but it wasn't spreadable enough.  Also, kind of hideous despite the dye and not melding with the first layer.

Solution!  Third layer of milk chocolate to seal it all in.  First laying down the rest of the nuts, then pouring that sucker on.  Of course now it's ridiculously thick, but whatever, that just means there's more delicious - and it'll take longer to set.

Upon freeing it from it's frozen prison after an hour or so I quickly learn this particular bark is now thick like family and does not want to split.  I can respect that, but now it is, quite literally, hammer time.

And hammer time.

Real Cowgirls Do it One-Handed

4 times.  1 handed.  While progressively getting drunker - much like my camera woman - each time lasted the average or longer than the useless bints using both.

Sure it was the one standing at the end, but that bull is my bitch. Inner thighs (and oddly one shin) may be black and blue but those are badges of honour!

(This actually happened last month but I would be remiss not to jot it down at all.  Since I'm here now and all…)

"Any interest in rodeo pub, I'm informed by a poster there is a mechanical bull?"
"Be there in 10."

Day 5

"May" have snapped at a random Asian I had never met in the office opposite us, "No one believes you're blond!"  Then just walked away.

...What? It's true.  No matter how carefully he applies those hi- and low-lights he can never win that game.

My goodness, is it possible this detox-cleanse is affecting my mood?

The hallucinations have gone down but by 14:00 so has the will to stay awake.

Total time at work spent looking up recipes and fantasizing: probably about 2 hours.  (Panettone French toast: did you know that was a thing?  My god...)

Even though I can't have any yet I couldn't wait - just baked EVERYthing.  Peanut butter & strawberry jam (plus actual strawberries cut up) muffins; banana-chestnut cookies with cinnamon and pecans.  Most are iced with spicy (chili flakes) chocolate ganache icing.

Time spent using aforementioned recipes: 0.00

Oh, and I may have had a couple shots of vodka... eat me.  Potato, vegetable!

That Crying Sound You Hear

So after being the sort of ill all Sunday where I actually agreed to trying a detox/cleanse... Well long story short, in the rabbit hole.


Day 1:  "I WANT TO KILL EVERYONE.  Need...meat...and lattes..."  Have immediately concluded there is nothing natural about this.  Have chosen not to make gross veggie smoothies on the first day as a way to "wade into it", just downing them au naturale. Luckily I'm allowed spices.


Day 2:  "How do vegetarians(/vegans) LIVE like this?  I want to shoot myself!"  Constantly hungry and irritable, never doing this during a work week again.  Funny how those qualities aren't business friendly... Is it okay to smoke during a cleanse?  I feel now would be a good time to take up smoking.


Day 3:  Wailed over a box of cookies, argued that vodka is from potatoes and therefore indeed a vegetable.  Ready to crack - violently - at any time.  Just barely kept on track by outside influences.  They seem to think I should be thankful, I'm leaning more towards bloodlust.  Pretty sure when I'm done this betrayal of my stomach I'm going to spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen cooking and baking ALL the things!


Day 4:  ...Holy crap, it's day four?  Life is ashambles, but have reached a "tolerable" medium with the meatless bouts of delirium.  Was watching ads for work and one of them featured a giant gingerbread cookie running around...was immediately turned on.  Like whoa; you've no idea.
Still no smoothies on the horizon.  Noticed my friends are in fact comprised of fleshy meat bags.  Considering the implications...

The weird silver-lining I noticed is that since my body's so weak from lack of meats and alcohol I'm usually passing out by 22:00 (as opposed to 01:00).  This is the most sleep I've gotten in months!  ...It's weird.

Massive.

Inspired by my brother's frequent comments to me that I "should have an app!" based on my random mass-texts that are obviously necessary for the people in my life.  So basically it'd be Twitter (which, incidently I have, but almost never cross-post), but I'd be the only one you could follow, or something.  I've yet to explain to him why this isn't likely to fly, instead just taking the compliment.  Here's some of the joy you're missing out on by not being in my contacts list (excluding picture messages), going as far back as...two months (when my phone crashed):

So I just got back tired from the gym... Long story short, takes me 2 minutes to realise I put the computer mouse in the spice rack thinking it's cinnamon.

"Why do you keep saying 'date'? What is that, do people still do that? What are you: from the 60s?" - Mom to me

On 3 hours sleep, just took a break at work; went to the washroom and couldn't find my own underwear.  That I'm wearing... So yay for today.

Said it before: Everything's better on the dancefloor.  And when my iPod does right EVERYwhere is my dancefloor.

Just made a pale saleswoman very uncomfortable by insisting there's a difference between jeans for white butts and butts of colour.  She finally broke and shrieked "I have a big ass!" ...She apparently couldn't tell the difference between round and just fat either.

Standing on a train near someone who smells like PANCAKES.  The delicious sort! I want to get romantically cannibalistic with their head.

Haha!  Doctor called it: tonisilitis AND strep.  So close to a hattrick...

Handicap washrooms: a reward for having a lazy body? Take them for those of us that make the effort to be fully functional, for justice!

This may be the fever-hallucinations talking but I have a reasonable fear Katy Perry wants to shoot Me out of a cannon...

A fork just dropped out of my sweater... What.

"The best thing about fetuses is they can't say 'no'." - Izzy

Face on, dressed to kill, scoring 10... I'd be dignified if only I could stop dancing in transit.

I'm mesmerized by the ass of the woman standing in front of me.  Everytime she shifts it's like wet clay moving in a bag.  That can not be right...

On subway between Rosedale and Bloor (outdoor stretch of track thankfully).  Power is completely CUT.  Rush-hour crowded... Ugh, I'm taking out as many as I can.
 
Ooo, we got lights back.  No one's yet to fart on my end of the car...
[Special mention: response from my older brother, "FART ALL THE CARS!"]

Just saw my first house with Christmas lights up.  Seriously?  [Dated Nov. 6]

AAAAA! Hyoerventilating, we can't handle this!  "They're zombies-", "No! They're strippers!", "They're zombie strippers!"

Being SO HUNGRY I left the office with EVERY INTENTION to buy food.  ...I have returned with new boots.

Just sped by a sombrero on the train track.  Looking for the rest of the Mexican...

INDIAN LADY-MIDGET!

Big black guy next to me on the train has the same Kim Possible notification for his texts that I do.  It keeps psyching me out.

Deal.

It's a catchy song and goddamnit, if I want to sing that I'm a hungry hippo in a eating race I will - and there's nothing you can do about it!  I will shake and wiggle and make up the lyrics when I forget them because it is my right.

How to Experience The O of Angels in Your Mouth

[Picture intensive entry.  All taken from my phone, so forgive that.]

Step 1:  The dough.  Here we have a chocolate chip-oatmeal texture going.  Gluten-free, proper butter.  Already delicious.  Do not consume before recipe is done or you'll have no cookies.

(I'm told this looks like vomit.  The similarities end there, I promise.)

Step 2:  Bacon.  Cut that sucker up, slices to chunks (more or less the size of the chocolate chips).

2a:  Fry it up so you don't end up poisoning yourself.

Step 3:  Mix the dough and bacon chunks together, then divide into cookie sizes on baking tray.

3a:  Taste for "quality control".

Step Hot: Put in oven for 12-ish minutes.  (Depending on preference of crisp-to-gooey.)

Step Important:  Ration out, add ice-cream.

Another Step:  Devour.  Savour.  Change underwear.  You're welcome.

They can be made as proper ice-cream sandwiches if one isn't lazy/impatient.  Unlike us.  Otherwise, the spirit (read: melty-orgasm-delicious) is still all there.

Does Not Want to Catch 'Em All

I've concluded I resent the phrase "caught a cold". Generally when one catches something it implies they had the desire, made the effort to. Yet when one catches a cold that is - more often than not - not the case at all. Rather it is the cold, I think, that catches you. A cold can catch, tickle, ravage, and wipe you out. You on the other can, can not do that to the cold. So why on Earth would someone ask me if I caught one, like it was something to actively try to achieve?

And then there's that final insult to injury of congestion, which can make a normally civilized person suffer the indignity of being forced to become a mouth breather. Further, if one is not in the habit of breathing through their mouth when they sleep they find they'll end up with very little sleep as the body keeps reminding them, "You're not breathing at all, wake up!"

Nothing can make an adult - of any age - feel quite like a child again like getting sick.

 

Lessons vol. CUBA

[NOTE:  Honestly really just more of a list of things from my trip, but we'll say they're life lessons for the facade of consistency.  Also, I do what I want.]

• Morbidly obese people in professional athletic shoes both boggle the mind and entertain.  Seriously, w-what?
• Day 1, 09:32:  Begin the perma-buzz.
• So...apparently being on vacation means all my strict dietary discipline that I maintain in my day to day pretty much just goes right the hell out the window.  Just gone, baby, gone.  I regret (almost) nothing.
• Banana Mamma con Tequila.  Thank you, Cuba, for this discovery.  Thank you.

• Learning both French and Spanish at the same time means I don't actually speak either, instead it comes out as something I've dubbed Espançais.  It goes about as well as you'd think.
• Having run around without protection in deserts, I early made the mistake of not respecting the Cuban sun as I should, and it in turn taught me why this is wrong. (Very specifically burnt my nose when I fell asleep for a few hours.)
• Stung by jellyfish as a child, I have a reasonable fear of them.  Guess what the beach was littered with for the first few days? Man o' war, actually.  About the same level of fun.

• Upon arriving at the resort I fast discovered the night club generally only had about... 5 patrons.  Deeming this unacceptable, I discovered my powers to get people on the dance floor still work in other countries; even language barriers mean nothing.  (Had it averaging at least 30 to 45 people by the second night.)

• Getting lost may lead to accidentally ending up in the "Royal" part of the resort, which may less-accidentally lead to acting like you're supposed to be there while you enjoy lobster in a hammock.
• As a woman (and I suppose I shouldn't rule out all men) visiting a foreign country, be prepared to be propositioned by the locals.  A lot. A lot a lot.  For the goal of at least one of three things:  a sale, a green card, a hole.  They have a strange inability to understand "No" (in multiple languages), making it occasionally difficult to remain civil. 
• When shaving your legs you might want to make sure you do not stop before your skirt begins.  This is not a good look on anyone:

 

I don't even know what to make of that decision process.  It was way too precise to be attributed to haste. 

• You have to love a country that designs their capitol purely out of spite:

• I am delicious.  Ravagingly so.  ...To mosquitoes (and possibly vampires).  Curiously, only from the knees down.  Bizarre, considering being in a swim suit means they really have their choice of meat.  I noticed this pattern on a few other guests as well.
• So... 4AM shenanigans, our near BnE into the wrong resort had about all the success you'd expect of drunken beach ninjas (which is quite the opposite of sober actual ninjas).  For the record though, that was some intense security for a beach.  Luckily, even the girls that didn't speak Spanish picked up that "policidad"was a good cue to cut losses...
• Everyone smokes in Cuba.  Think you don't?  Too bad!  Enjoy all that second hand without a filter.  (I did not understand the few that thought they'd be safe there of all places.)  Pretty much the same for drinking - at least on the resort.  Oh, all inclusive...
• 12" 3-hole punch that I forgot was buried at the bottom of my backpack for years now, at the Varadero airport you will become the "hidden pocket knife" that nearly gets me arrested.
• Girls that buy those leggings with the denim print on them: you're not fooling anyone.  You do, on the other hand, look spectacularly cheap in taste.  Well done.
• Going from 29ºC to -12ºC in three hours is officially not my favourite way to be welcomed home, Canada.  I still love you, but we need to talk.

Goose.

So the delightful Jennie of Too Hard to Find a URL goosed me (is that right?) in this thing going around (nope, now it sounds like an STD) and because she's a sweetheart just this once I'm going to play along.

Rules are simple: list 15 facts about oneself and then goose five other bloggers to do the same.  As I'm lazy, if you're reading this and have a blog, consider yourself goose'd.  If you're reading this and don't have a blog you are duck'd.  Sorry.

Due to being a jerk lady, I will list an arbitrary number of factoids instead (read: until I get bored).  Début ici:

1. I have been chased by a police helicopter as a teenager.
2. People are generally much better at remembering my own escapades than I am.  Apparently there's quite a bit.
3. I consider anyone I haven't met to be fictional.  Recently, due to being forced to watch some of their movies, Japan has also made this list.  Seriously.  There's no way that's a real place. I can not be convinced otherwise.
4. I secretly would do terrible, terrible, wonderful things to Carmen Sandiego.
5. Number 4's not really a secret.
6. I recently caught myself signing a government document "Batman" without thinking.  Nobody even noticed this error at first since I've used it as a pseudonym so often.
7. I'm Batman.
8. I have a list of men I would kidnap, without hesitation, given the chance.  It includes Adam West, Morgan Freeman, William Shatner, John Lithgow, and a few more.  The plan is to lock them together in a room and film what I can only assume will be entertainment gold!  (Once the chloroform wears off.)
9. I have no shame about knowing the Macarena.
10. My inner child is a fat kid I keep locked in a cage.  She bitterly hates me in no uncertain terms; repeatedly trying to break out and grab the reins.  We are locked in an eternal battle of "Screw you".

 

Things That Are and Should Be

Oh.  

Oh my.  

I have discovered one of the greatest things anyone who grew up on pop bands from the 90s can:

Yeah.  It's a thing and it's REAL.  

Oh.  My.  

She was my favourite too (incidentally, shortly followed by Mel C).  After I stopped laughing I swore that if I ever got a PS3 or Kinect this would be the first thing I purchase.  Not to get fit, no.  That would just be frivolous money spending then.  Not to mention impossible, because I can't get over how amazingly awesome-hilarious I find this.  I would probably just sit in front of it and drink Long Island iced-teas while she yells at me.  Aw man, if there was a Get Trashed with Mel B I would be all over that so fast…

Speaking of which, other things I would like to see in this genre of gaming:

Get Loaded with Jamie P

Get Classy with The Rock

Get Airborne with Lucy Lawless (Not to be confused with Xena, who can not fly.)

Get Straight with Adam West

Be Narrated by Morgan F 

[Possibly Directly Relates to Previous Entry]

I am a Monster!  I will eat your cookies in a most terrifying way!  ...Once I get out of this bed.  Then I will be Queen of all China.

I just noticed my bed is very blue.

Totally Not Filler

Honestly, I don't really care to write anything, but a New Year's post just sort of seems like the thing to do.  So that said, here's my 2011 cocktail which I've recently recovered from:

• 1 blue dress
• 1 pair black 3" boots
• 2 parts champagne
• 4 parts screwdriver
• 4 parts Jack of All Trades, Muppets Christmas Carol, Blade, Clueless
• 2 parts board & card games
  
• 1/2 part accidental B&E
• 2 parts old friends
• 1 part new friends
• 1 part random friends
• Umpteen parts vodka & mystery vodka
• Many parts dancing
• 1 awful beer
• 1 part street justice
• 1 part CO-PILOT.

I'd give it 3 1/2 to 4 stars. Feel free to adjust to tastes.

[Warning.  There is a reason this is only done once a year not that often.  Not meant for pregnant women, children, or those with weak constitutions.  Make sure to book off an appropriate amount of time for the aftermath.  This establishment recommends at least 1, if not 2 days.  We take no responsibility for your actions at any point.]

Happy New Year.