This makes me feel like 1997 all over again. Not sure why. There’s a weird TMNT-meets-MySoCalledLife-meets-RogerRabbit thing going on that totally smells like that most ubiquitous of all 1990s perfumes- ‘Sunflowers, by Elizabeth Arden.
Great article from last week, examining the rise in nouveau comfort food restaurants, particularly in New York. As always, Bourdain has an interesting – and likely pretty accurate – take on why we’re seeing deliciousness like bacon candy and foie gras donuts on menus more and more. [nytimes/photo:nytimes]
Pimento Cheese – The IM Conversation
me: would you believe me if i told you i just made my own 5-cheese pimento cheese?
im like an urban-commando martha stewart
april: damn girl
i wanted a pimento cheese sandwich!
april: what kinda cheese did you use?
and how the beef do you make that?
me: i used cheddar, habanero cheddar, provolone, parmesan and american cheese
shred/cut up into tiny pieces
mix w/ a small spoon of mayo, a small spoon of sour cream, a squirt of mustard
salt, pepper, mix with a spoon
spread on bread, crackers, melt over chips for nachos…
me: the longer it sits in the fridge, the better
but i had to have a sammy right away 🙂
Things that are easier since I quit biting my nails:
- Scratching bug bites
- Popping Zits
- Giving goose-bump-inducing cranial messages
- Opening the little flap on my cell phone so I can plug in my charger
- Doing that bitchy, impatient finger-tapping thing favored by Bond villains and evil receptionists with waxed upper lips
- Peeling back that stubborn last layer of skin on an onion
Things that are more difficult since I quit biting my nails:
- The two-fingered scroll thingy on the touchpad on my Mac
- Typing in general
- Self-pleasure of the intimate kind
- Painting my nails (really? REALLY? seems unfair)
- Picking my nose
I think too much. About most things, really. But mostly-right-at-this-moment I’m thinking too much about this blog. I am determined to enjoy this, not let myself turn it into something it’s not, just so I can feel superior for having ‘sacrificed’ myself for it’s well-being. At what point did all the things you love to do, turn into the things you have to finish?
You know, I should probably just send this to my therapist and save us both an hour this week.
ARTIST: The Good The Bad
SIDE DISH: Raw and Spicy Surf Rock for the Boozy Floozy in all of us. Their songs don’t have lyrics because, as they put it, “we couldn’t find [a singer] that would stand behind the drummer. But we don’t need a vocalist anyway. The music speaks for itself. We use the music so we don’t have to say I Love You.” Idealism is so charming when viewed with the hindsight of a hardened cynic.
One of my favorite stories to tell about the music biz has very little to do with the hedonism, entitlement or cluster-fuckery often stereotyped in popular culture – although, I suppose, T&A is tangentially involved. MY T&A.
This is the part where I start dumping a month’s worth of good music and sick vids into a handful of incoherent posts, right?
ARTIST: The Happen-Ins
SIDE DISH: These Austin kids have swooped in and stolen my heart for Summer 2010 soundtrack-of-choice. So lo-fi they don’t even have a video on YouTube that’s worth linking, these fellow Texans play into the down-home Southern rock hands of most nearly everyone I know who has a soft-spot for sitting at the lake with an icy Shiner in hand. You heard me right – this band even makes me want to drink beer. THE HORROR! Head over to their Myspace page to get your boot-stompin’ fix in. Every track’s a keeper.