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Green_Man_007 - Archived Blog Posts

Green_Man_007

Sex God
Joined
Mar 1, 2006
Posts
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Location
Georgia (south of ATL)
Website
greenconner.tripod.com
*

"Nature knows best" (Barry Commoner's 3rd 'Law of Ecology') can be demonstrated in a piece of wisdom I overheard at a salon:

"DON'T FIGHT YOUR HAIR"

In other words, if your follicles don't provide the lay and texture to pull off a particular style without a lot of daily work :help: , it's best to amend your expectations, and deal with something else fabulous out of what you do have.

(And if you're partly bald, either have the remaining hair shaped up tastefully, or shave it all off, or else hunt down Billy Zane's wig designer.)

In high school it was a trend, even among jocks, to use massive amounts of mousse, gel, and/or spray

We had more time on our hands then.

My haircuts as an adult generally get entrusted to highly-skilled cosmetologists, who can examine how the hair falls around my scalp, and craft a decent, low-maintenance coif.

It's nice to step out of the shower, shake my head, towel dry, brush, shake again, and then get dressed to leave the house with pride in a healthy bounce and look of a properly-executed haircut.

On the other hand, I have noticed that some amount of the rare styling product does keep the cats off my head, when they're on the back of the coach looking for a makeshift ball of yarn.

Now I wonder if some men, like the cats, find use of styling products to be a turnoff.


:cool:
 
My right hand and I have been steady playmates for over 2 decades now.

Though I could dream to make money putting my fantasies into porn scripts, I later find out a lot of those scenarios, in some form or another, have already been produced, in video and/or print.

The difference is, however, that my fantasies star myself.

So, if I want my Dad's best friend to seduce me on a camping trip, or pick up a hitchhiking cowboy to have some fun at the next motel, or pledge as a slave pig at a secret men's leather sex club, or become a "special project" to a couple surfer-bod prison guards.....

....busting a nut takes precedence over copyright laws in my head.
 
Around age 7 or 8, I got an acoustic guitar for my birthday.

Before I could attempt learning the first chord, my bully older brother broke all the strings.

Yet, my parents, who gave me the guitar, never bothered to stop by a store to get replacements.

I still have that un-strung guitar, but not any idea about playing one.

From time to time I had checked around college bookstores, WalMart, etc. for guitar strings, with no luck.

This just in --- I put a search out on Froogle.com, and ordered a set.

So, instead of moping about some experience stolen from my childhood, I am now resolved to get it back, though it may have taken almost 2 decades.

The strings arrived today, so I need to clean up the guitar, re-string it, pay some mall stud to tune it for me, and within a month, I can cross another personal life goal off my list:



"Learn to play the theme from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'"
 
Becoming allergic to soy a couple years ago, I've had to check ingredients labels carefully, because it seems to be everywhere.

Most commercial bread, from the grocery shelf to restaurant sandwiches, is made with soybean oil.


So, I learned a knack for the basics, thanks to the Food Networks' TV programs and website, and can tweak variations on the formula according to need.
  • "Proofed" Yeast (1/3 cup warm water, tablespoon sugar, dry yeast packet)
  • Flour (2 to 4 cups, white, all-purpose, wheat, self-rising, or whatever)
  • Salt (1/4 to a whole teaspoon, but never ever any more)
  • Oil (tablespoon, corn, canola, or olive)
First I nuke the water in a coffee cup while I sift the flour with salt together in a large, oiled bowl, then form a mound with a center hole, like a volcano


The warm water gets poured into a tall plastic tumbler, adding as much cold water to bring the temperature down below scalding, and in goes the sugar


I stir in the yeast, and wait 10+ minutes for it to foam, before pouring it into the hole of the flour volcano.


With a rubber spatula coated with some of the oil, I fold the flour little by little into the center pool, until all the flour is wet.


I continue mixing with stirring and folding, occassionally scraping the spatula off with the flat edge of a table knife.


Once the dough is well mixed, I coat both hands with oil and reach in to the bowl to squish the dough, stretch it out, fold it over, and repeat for about 5 minutes


After forming it into a ball, I coat it with oil, cover it loosely with plastic, and let it rise for 45 minutes or more, until it doubles in size.


Having risen, the dough gets punched down, kneaded on a flour surface for 5 minutes, and left to rest for 15.


By the finish of almost 2 hours, I should have made the final decision if I want a bread loaf, pizza crust, dinner rolls, sandwich buns, or pitas, and preheat the oven accordingly, as well as set up whatever pans and ingredients I'll need.


For Xmas my Mom gave me a breadmaker, which is convenient for just tossing ingredients in and pressing a couple buttons. Yet, it doesn't allow for a lot of creative variation.


This Xmas I want a standing mixer with dough hook.
 
After getting the new guitar strings on, with a satisfactory amount of tension to achieve a nice strum tone, I looked on the internet to discover that they were in reverse order.

Next day, I re-strung the guitar, and began looking into self-help lessons from About.com., learning names for the guitar's anatomy, and how to do scales.

Got the idea to cut expired credit cards into the shape of guitar picks.

I've also got to see if the local pawn shop has a gizmo for tuning my strings.
 
CALZONES employ the standard pizza recipe, with toppings piled in and encased by folding the circular piece of dough over like an omelette, then sealing around the edges for baking.


[note to self: remember to cut a slit in the top of the crust so it doesn't explode]


Here's where the 1 or 2 hours of thinking time come in handy for me ---


"What do I want in it?"

Yesterday's dough batch was enough for 4 calzones, which left me with a wider selection for exploiting that one yeast packet I just spent.
  • I already knew I wanted something akin to Wendy's Frescata Italiana, or Subway's Italian BMT, but swimming in marinara sauce.

[note to self: pick tomatoes and herbs and make marinara sauce]

  • Then there's my famous combo of onion, pineapple, ham, and mustard, which needs a home in a sandwich.

[note to self: soak sliced onion in pineapple juice and puree mustard seed with a few pineapple chunks]

  • Chicken with alfredo sauce and mixed vegetables

[note to self: nuke whipping cream, peel garlic, and blend with parm cheese]

  • Shrimp with spinach, chives, and ricotta

[note to self: thaw, peel, devein, season, and pre-cook shrimp]


Then I remembered the hoagie roll, sliced roast beef, and mozzarella in the fridge, so I swapped them out for the 4 dough balls, and made a cheesesteak sandwich instead.


 
Boots, the cat I had given to my Grandmother, came back to live with me, her mother Bo, and sister Sascha.

I'd hoped the family reunion would have at least been peaceful, but Boots had grown accustomed to having her own space. Additionally, Sascha doesn't seem to like sharing attention with anyone, while Bo has gotten snippy with Sascha lately.

So, I can't let all 3 in the house at the same time, to fight for access over the same food dish and litterbox. If it's just 2, the pair cannot be Boots and Sascha, or stuff gets broken in the course of scratch fights.


* * * *


For a slightly different brain teaser, try this puzzle

[URL="http://freeweb.siol.net/danej/riverIQGame.swf/"][URL="http://freeweb.siol.net/danej/riverIQGame.swf"]http://freeweb.siol.net/danej/riverIQGame.swf[/URL][/URL][URL="http://freeweb.siol.net/danej/riverIQGame.swf/"]\[/URL]

*To start click on the big blue circle on the right. To move the people click on them. To move the raft click on the pole on the opposite side of the river.


The following rules apply:

1.) Only 2 persons on the raft at a time
2.) The father can not stay on the s hore with any of the
daughters, without their mother's presence.
3.) The mother can not stay on the shore with any of the sons,
without their father's presence.
4.) The thief (striped shirt) can not stay with any family member,
if the Policeman is not there.
5.) Only the Father, the Mother and the Policeman know how to
operate the raft.
 
Designing and making holiday wreaths for sale has been another test on a mental quirk of mine.

I've invested too much time with ribbons and ornaments in creating a sparklingly-effective homage to the true Star of Bethlehem, only to cringe at splashing fake snow around a small holy family scene that occured in August of 6 BCE.

The morons paying money to hang a lie on their door don't need to know, so I guess it shouldn't matter to me.
 
Let's backtrack to family Xmas get-togethers, and all the potluck foods I wanted but didn't dare touch on the chance someone had unwittingly used soy, sulfites, MSG, etc. in their preparation.

So, I undertook a mission to duplicate everything to savor in their assuredly-hypoallergenic form.

First was chicken pot pie, which began with making chicken broth. So, I boiled water, turned down the heat, added the herbal "bouquet garni" (bay leaf, rosemary, thyme, and parsley, stuffed in a coffee filter tied closed with a white cotton string), tossed in the rough-cut veggies (carrots, celery, radishes, garlic, onions), and gave the brew a chicken breast with its bone and skin.

After an hour of simmering and occassional stirring, I strained out the solids. The "bouquet garni" got tossed away, and the chicken got unskinned, de-boned, then chopped. The veggies got pureed with the chicken skin, and added back into the liquid.

Then I slowly whisked corn flour into the liquid to make the sauce, put the chicken and more chopped veggies back in, and let them baste in the sauce.

For the pie crust I'd already made whole-wheat crackers (without soybean oil), and crumbled them to mix with cubed butter (not margarine). To add it the dough's cohesive texture, I gave it small splashes of ice-cold water. Then it had to be refrigerated for at least a half hour.

It's not so much that my filling wasn't blow-your-mind/run-around-the-yard-naked variety of AWESOME, or that my crust wasn't up to par with Swanson's or Banquet's pot pies. Those store-bought, aluminum mini-pie dishes just aren't deep enough to load up all the wholesome mix of chicken/vegetable goodies.

Two of those at that size barely made a single-serve meal.

While I contemplated investing in ceramic ramekins, there was also the nagging desire to enjoy the potato salad I also missed out on over Xmas.

So, I whipped up mayonaisse (without soybean oil), cooked some cubed potatoes, and chopped up other ingredients, including homemade pickles (without the FD&C Yellow Dye).

Then I had potato salad, with which I got bored after a few snacks.

Potato salad got quickly recycled into mashed potatoes, with the added touch of sour cream and cumbled bacon.

For breakfast the next morning, I thought about an onion-cheese omelette, but considered baking it like a frittata.

As an experiment, I lopped some mashed potatoes into some mini-pie dishes, pushed down wells in middle, and topped off the hollow areas with the afore-mentioned omelette mix.

Since the oven was going to be hot anyway (guessing 350 F), I also incorporated leftover chicken pot pie filling with the egg/cheese/onion mix in other cocoons of mashed potatoes, using deeper bowls.

While everything baked, I double-checked the correct temperature and timing with my online recipe box.

Then, I further reading discovered the accident ----

I just made QUICHE.
 
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