Alcohol is the best thing about this.

I follow MichonMichon/Jules and she had a video on yesterday's post. It was Epic Meal Time's Breakfast of Booze. I think I was in some way inspired by that yelling man, hence all the curse words.

This is the ingredient list. We're in England, so weights are grams and kilograms for the dry fruit ingredients. Yes yes, Derpina, there are some tsps and tbsps but those aren't necessary to the story.  

Assembly table #1

The cauldron. Normally used for the Christmas Chutneys, but this year, it was decided that the making of the chutney was far too dangerous for their relationships with one another. So, cakes it was.

 This is Ruth's mother, Susan. She's lining the cake tins with parchment paper. Notice the coffee mug. The cuppa is ever present in this house, in this country. Omnipresent, really...like a Route 44 Sonic drink in a teacher's classroom: ubiquitous.

 Commence round 1 with all this butter!

 It goes in the cauldron! Add lots of sugar! That's smart.

Count those mutha-fucking eggs! 12! And we ain't even done yet!

The stuff that goes in cake.

Put some peel there, bitches. Life's too short to drink alone.

Mixed fruit and currants soaked in Courvoisier

They all go in!

Divide it evenly, yo. Make some divots in the middle for the alcohol collection. Was told that one of these would be mine. Dammit.

Start round two. That's me folks. I was a mixin' fool! Roo's mom brought an industrial strength one because she learned from last year's mishap: the mixer's motor burned out.

 Whoomp! Dere it is! Shakalaka. This one was mine. It has crystallized ginger, dates, nuts, and other mixed fruits too. I think there was mango. Not positive. It too has a divot for the alcohol. It was my "practice cake".

 Take it to the pub and eat that brick. Fucker was massive. This was only half of it. Gave the other half to Peter the Bartender. Haven't heard back from him about it, so it must've been alright.

So theoretically speaking, there'd be a cake in a tin on my counter (aka 'bench' in this neck of the woods) and I'd be "feeding" it spirits each week... Like I have some minor cake god to appease.

I couldn't wait for that though. I wanted to try it out. And you know what? It was like fruitcake. I don't like fruitcake really. Neither do SciMan and Kiddo. But you know what else? When Roo gives me the Christmas Cake that I helped to make, I'm going to eat some and be grateful that I have such a great friend in her. She drives me places that would take me an hour by bus (not counting wait times). We have a lot of laughs together; our taste in alcohol is similar: I like it straight from the bottle and not in a cake, so does she. My kid loves her and vice versa. She's my first grown-up friend* and I'm very very lucky to have one like her.







*to all my other friends that I made before I was "grown-up": I love you realhard. It isn't that I don't think you are "real" friends, it's that you met me when I was young and stupid and you liked me. You even like me now when I'm older and more stupid than before and I imagine that you'll keep on keepin' on when I'm way old and catatonically senile. I sure as hell hope so. You know my skeletons, so to speak. And maybe, just maybe it's because of that that I'm wondering what's wrong with you.

SciMan and Kiddo are forced to get to know the natives on a very intimate level

I take today's general bemusement from SciMan's Google+ entry from earlier today.

"Today's cultural exposure hit a bit of a new low. While Kiddo and I were waiting for a bus at Durham bus station, I heard something that caught my attention, turned, and sure enough, there was a man standing in the corner of the room peeing on one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Clean button up shirt, black slacks and sport jacket. He was less than 10 feet from the public restroom, which costs 20 pence to use. There is a restaurant next door. There is a pub across the street. He chose to pee on the floor inside the bus station and then trail footsteps of urine as he walked away. It was 2pm on Sunday afternoon."

This is England. Land of the pee, home of the depraved.

Want to know more? Tough.

I made Christmas Cake. In October. I'm still reeling from it. I have pictures, just have been too lazy to find the cable to connect my phone to the laptop in order to upload pictures. But really, who cares? It's a damn process of making cake, that after baking is soaked in alcohol. The only reason why I'd bother is to show the magnitude of ingredients and the size of the cauldron it was mixed in.

That's right, bitches. C-c-c-c-CAULDRON!

 So, let me know what you want me to do. If there's enough interest, I'll get off my fat ass and find that damn cable so you can see my lovely long hair tied back in a ponytail as I struggle with the mixer of mixers in the massive cauldron of a 14 egg cake.

British people have thanksgiving too.

On this day in 2010: Clubbing Seals!
Not really. I was lying.

I've been asked by a lot of people here about what all is entailed in the holiday known as American Thanksgiving (not to be confused with Canadian Thanksgiving). You know, "All I know about America is what I see in the movies" kind of questions.

Like, what do you eat? And what do you eat?

Those are very easy questions to answer. And I answer the best I can, in the only way I can. With honesty and in bold.

"TV dinners for my family, usually. One year, we had tamales! I know a gal whose family likes to BBQ crab legs on Thanksgiving."


What about the Native Americans? Do they celebrate Thanksgiving the way you do?


"Hmm, well, Chinese food is very popular with the Redskins Indians Native Americans First Peoples tribes. There's not a whole lot of interaction between the ethnic groups because you know, it'd be like Jews celebrating Hitler's birthday."

Quite, quite. I can see that being a bit awkward for you.

"Yeah, it's not like they'd want invite us onto the rez on that day."


What about presents? Do you give each other pressies?

"Yes! Especially, we give presents to newly arrived immigrants. It's not really widely known outside of the lower 48. We want to make sure it stays local and as "American" as possible and does not become an exported custom. I know how much you Europeans hate amalgamating the rest of American culture into your own. It's our gift to you."


I appreciate it! Ta, very much. Are there any special Thanksgiving carols, like the Christmas ones?

"Oh sure, lots of them. There's 'Hold on Grandaddy, Momma's dialling 911', 'Quick, quick, pick it up before someone sees'. That one's got a dance to go with it. There's 'Salty Gravy and Bland Casserole'. My mom's favorite is 'Never Gonna Dessert You', by Trick Ghastly."


I've never heard of those! You'll have to teach them to me!

"Not surprised. They're Southern traditionals. Not much good from there reaches anywhere."




And what did I get today from my friend? A pressie. A DVD copy of Peter's Friends with an all-star cast of some British actors you've heard of and some you haven't. I love it.

I am very happy and thankful for clean, potable water coming out of my faucet. I am happy and thankful for trashmen and trash collection. I am very happy and thankful for non-censored, relatively free, somewhat inexpensive internet access. You should be too. Call your congressperson ASAP to tell them so.

I am overthemoonandback for my daughter and her health status. Same goes for SciMan and all my family. I love all my friends real, virtual, and imaginary. That means you. And I hope of hopes, that if you celebrate today, that you let someone take your keys (in a non-spouse swap way, unless that's your thing, then by all means) to your car so that you do not drink and drive.

Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good night!

Golden Rations could be a good cereal brand name

Ever hear about the Golden Ratio? What about the idea that the closer your face is to perfect symmetry, the "hotter" you are to the opposite sex?

So in nature and art, also science and mathematics, there exists a number that provides a basis for an algorithm to indicate supreme beauty...although most likely, this is highly exaggerated.

The Fibonacci spiral approximates this... AND SO DOES MY FACE!

My friend,  DrSpach, did one for herself on Google+ and showed lots of us... I begged her to do mine and gave her a few options to choose from.
Here are the ones she used:

Here's the result of the symmetrical division of my face...

Rachel McAdams could be my twin! So too could Sister Wendy. Wee-nay-issahnce!

Thanks Stf! I've always wondered about my own symmetry. Because now I can tell photographers to shove it when they want me to photograph me from the left as now I have irrefutable scientific proof that my right side is my better side.

So why am I left-handed?

Short Saga of Discounted Pussy Energy

Oh. I couldn't make this up if I wanted to.

So, I originally saw the Pussy at Makro. It wasn't hurt or used up or bent all out of shape when I first saw it. My new friend, a fellow Amurrikan named Tammy, has a membership to this Costco/Sam's Warehouse lookalike and she invited me along; she wanted to buy a turkey, I like looking at mass quantities of shit. Long story short, I had to take a picture of this (scroll down if you haven't seen it yet. Better yet, read that post before continuing).

Anyway, the turkey wasn't forthcoming on the first trip. Hmm, methinks you're getting the long story long. No turkey meant a second visit. Also, I saw the big "Santa Present" that Natalie wanted at Costco, but didn't buy it then as I wanted to check online prices and local toy stores. I like helping where I can. However, this is not relevant.

Back at Makro the second time to get the turkey, we swing by the discounted/damaged stock section on the way to the checkout lines. Tammy likes to buy her trashbags from that section.

Lo and behold, doth the Makro provide...

See? What the customer really wants is unbent, unadulterated pussy in a can. I mean, this canned pussy is good to go for another 20 years or so. It'll still be as fresh then as it is now...maybe a little flat but who cares! There might be a little more packaging to trim but it's the (reciprocal) journey that's the fun part, not the destination.

LOOK AT ALL THIS CHEAP PUSSY THAT I DIDN'T BUY FOR MY HUSBAND! It's because it has the EXCL STD. Gives a whole new meaning for the "V" in VAT. Instead of value added tax, we now have vagina added tax.

I... I don't... I don't even... I don't even know how to fit this into my paradigm.

Bonfire Night 2011...FOR SCIENCE!

source and a symbol of a global movement

From last year; BONFIRE NIGHT 2010 and the pictures and video are nearly the same this year as they were last year. Consistency... the key to life.

Differences this year? Yes. Went with Roo and Big Fella and Michigan Jesse. Hey ladies, are you single and want to long-distance date a cutie pie physicist? No lie, true story. I think Michigan Jesse's around 28-30. Let me know, he's single, smart as a whip, and cute too! I can say that, right? He's new to the area, no kids, and lots of money!

So, activities? Same as last year's, held in the graveyard... only no potato and leek soup was in evidence!! I scored a few homemade cinder toffee knobs even though I took store-bought chocolate covered cinder toffee for Roo and Big Fella. Roo is Ruth because "Ru" sounds like "roo" and she lived in Australia for a time (kangaroo, anyone?). Plus, it's what Big Fella (Brian, her husband calls her).

After that, went to Aykley Heads Police Headquarters for a resoundingly boomer of a time. I'm talking fireworks, people.

The fireworks seemed, to me, more "percussive" and "tympanic" than any I remember... and that might be because it was on November 5th, rather than July 4th. What do you think, after seeing the video?

Yet...The speed of sound v relative to the current in which it is embedded is given by v = (gRT)^1/2 where g is the ratio of the specific heat at constant pressure to the specific heat at constant volume, R is the gas constant for dry air, and T is the temperature. The product gRT is then taken to the one-half power. We see from this equation that the speed of sound is proportional to the temperature and would expect sound to travel faster in a warmer air mass.

Quite right. Which is why the sound of the firework was delayed as long as it was.

According to the resident physicist, how loud something is isn't necessarily related to the speed of sound. Without giving a whole lot of time to think over my question "why?", he merely adds that moisture might have something to contribute to the effect.

I think he was busy when I asked. Guess that's how people are when they're at work.

I kid.

Not really.


And with that, ladies and gentlemen, I leave you to consider the following image taken at the local Makro (similar to Costco/Sam's):
:

Isn't it beautiful? I've never seen that much natural energy pussy in a public place. I wouldn't be up for it all in one go. I think I'd need several rounds. Makes me tired just looking at it. So, since I'm exhausted by all that pussy energy, I challenge you to see who can come up with the best caption.

The Perfect Gift for that Special Man

Ladies!!! Gay Male Readers!!! Christmas, Hanukkah, and other gift giving holidays are just around the corner! I made a video for you to help you out...

Courtesty of YouTube Search Stories

Northeast England's answer to Chicken Matzo Ball Soup

All right now. This is the shit. I shit you not. You need to eat this. Now. But not right now, because you can't. BUT YOU WILL!

So you know all about Chicken Noodle soup and the variations of such, right? Of course right. Well, imma learn you now about "BROTH".

Broth is the Northeast of England's beautiful challenge to the Yiddish cooking mavens' matzo soup. Now, I do love me some of that yummy muck that is angel farts rolled in a ball of crushed matzo swimming in yellowyoniony goodness. But I hadn't yet had BROTH!

So, here's your layout... and I have totally oversimplified the whole shmear. Because I did.

From top clockwise: Carrots, HAM SHANK BITCHES!, Dried Pulses/Soup Mix (mine is barley, peas and other crap that may be wholesome), Parsnips, and Leeks. 

My fellow amurricanz, you need to google leeks. Dey's booiful!

Cleanse the veggies, especially the leeks. Dirt is attracted to leeks. Asks it out and takes it for a coke date, I kid you not. 

For bestest results that were achieved, shred dem parsnips.

Finely slice those leeks. Inhale the heady light oniony scent. Spend your time here. You won't regret it.

Like de pah-snips, shred dem carrots. Shred a fuckton of them. 

Boil dat HAM SHANK! Boil til it fall off de bone! When it be done boiling, pull dat meat off de bone!

Now, the night before, soak your soup mix and follow the directions the next day when you begin to cook. Soaking is essential. DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. You will have some hard and chewy soup if you do. 

After the HAM SHANK has been boiling for a while, or hell, after it's done boiling, saute those veggies in butter. A lot of butter. Go Paula Deen on this shit.

Add the soaked and cooked soup mix.

Add the bits of salty, juicy, cherubic HAM SHANK meat to the pot. Add some of that stock too, while you're at it. Eyeball it, no measuring in this version!

Salt it up or not. Pepper it up or not. You can not mess this up. Unless you don't soak the soup mix. Then you will mess it up.

Now, when I make this, I need a 5.5 quart pan/pot. You do what you gotta do to handle this Broth.

Get you some good and crusty rolls for soaking it up.

And no, there's no picture of the final product. Because mostly I eat my food when it's in front of me; too busy moving my hand to my mouth to bother with a camera. You got lucky for the process pics.

I've made this twice now and will make it again. Ohmystars yes!

And now for your viewing pleasure... A butterfly walking on the sidewalk