round the clock
oh yea baby. this kid pulled one o' they all nighters. That's how i roll. (actually, had some problems with my file browser, but we're all good) This weekend past, old Stanton turned 30 years of age. You'll see images from that little hoopty doo in there. And the next day, what happened was, well. we got home late see, and i was hungry after having one of them tasty Mac Donald's Brand Hamburgers, so i got it in my head to make some pasta. Gonna put some vodka sauce on it. sprinkle a little cheese on it. that stuff that comes already shredded and has different flavors inside of the cheese. I had this cheese that was like, garlic basil or something of that order. Also, on account of the fact it was really late, or early depending on if you're a fucking geek about that type of chatter, i say late, but anyway, i have one of those water boilers you know? Like the kind you plug into the wall, and it boils the water, so if you want a cup of tea or something, it's like a 2 minute problem. So what I do is, I fill that up, instead of waiting for a pot of water to boil, and so I got that going, and then I put the oil and some salt in the pan while waiting for the water to boil, and then it boiled. so what I did was, I poured it into the pan, and dropped the pasta in there, and stirred it around, and fired up the burner, which gave me this idea. I thought, "hmmmm.... it's going to take about 10 minutes for this pasta to get up to speed for eating, why don't I sit down to a latenight game of burnout 3 on my Sony Playstation 2™?" and i was thinking that would be great, because my friend Brent, he probably hasn't played it. (by the way, that's Brent there at the top of this page) And it's quite fun to play that game because I've got a tv set that has some girth, and there's the surround sound with the subwoofer that also acts as a fan when it's rattling the house, so i turn on the television, and commence to my little indian raindance with the remote control. For some reason, as much as i know about stereos and electronics and setting shit up, i'll be damned if i can EVER figure that one i bought last christmas out. it's fucking retarded. I have no idea what the hell i'm doing with that thing. it makes me crazy, but so anyway, i'm trying video 1, video 2, video 3, you know? no dice. toggling the TV between the component cable settings and the straight video RCA jacks, unplugging the optical cables and hooking up just regular audio RCA jacks, finally i'm unplugging the whole damned thing, and i'm plugging the playstation 2™ (made by Sony) into the front of the amp, in the Video 4 slot, and reapplying the optical and component cables and on and on and on. You get the idea.
So, brent's practically passing out on the couch by this time, and he says, "what the fuck's that smell connor?" and i'm like, (drunk ass) "OH YEA MAN. PASTA." not cool.
i get over there, and it's been forever i guess since i went to the kitchen, which is right you know, like 4 feet from the TV anyway, i get in there, and there's no water in the pan man. boiled it all right on down. burned the shit out of that pasta. It was like a special effect in a movie. i created a 2 inch thick layer of solid black carbon at the bottom of the pan, with some pretty soggy noodles (3 clicks past al dente) on top of the crusty black stone forming in the bottom of the pan. (incidentally, that makes for a tasty "smoked" flavor, if it ever comes up) So, to say the least, that pasta was a wash. In fact, the pan is still soaking right now. i've hit it with the brillo pads and stuff, but you know, it's going to take some time and some patience, and some committment. But i'm committed to that $3 pan from ikea.
well what happened after that is, we crashed out, forget the stupid video game, and when i get up in the morning, it smells like i went around the house lighting spaghetti sticks instead of incense all around the house. So that blows. So i open up the windows to let the place get some air, and don't you know? the temperature had dropped to like 8˚f overnight. Oh yea. good times. so now i've got an artic zephyr blowing through my house, and it smells like a pasta fire on all 3 floors of the house. nice. So, anyway, you'll see a defocused picture of that on today's update too. Went on up to the Whitney on sunday, saw this parade of bolivians and stuff, oh, and then, i started seeing some of the aftermath from the rainstorm the night of scott's party, it was like new york city became an umbrella graveyard over night. If you had an umbrella, you were bringing it to the slaughter. every where i looked, it was trashed umbrellas. on the sidewalks, in the trash cans, under cars, in the gutters, you name it. (by the way, i have somebody's red umbrella from stanton's party. you want it back, you gotta let me know it's yours)
there was something else i wanted to say, but i can't think of it now. It's interesting though, how whenever george w. bush gets into hot water, there's some sort of disaster somewhere off elsewhere in the world that takes all the media attention away from his ass. it's weird. Tsunami's, earthquakes, bombings, on and on they come, and always right when it looks like bush is about to get his ass kicked for being such a dumb ass. It's like that's one of the USA's secret weapons. they're all like, "Oh shit man! they just popped tom delay, man... that's it we're screwed..." and then cheney's like, "na. don't worry about it, i'll have my boys over at halliburton fire up my top secret earthquake machine somewhere far enough away from here that these beer drinking, fox news watching jack ass americans won't even know where it is on a map, and then, they'll all want to send their money and have rock and roll concerts to save the people, and i'll get us another one of them no-bid contracts to rebuild the place for like 80 billion. you'll see georgie, it's all gonna be fine. I'd think you'd have figured that out by now."
and george is scratching his head like a god damned monkey, and he gets that little twisted smile he makes on the side of his mouth, and he says, "you know dick? i like you."
and so on.
i don't know. i'll think of something.
in the meantime, enjoy.
60˚ and cloudy.
So, brent's practically passing out on the couch by this time, and he says, "what the fuck's that smell connor?" and i'm like, (drunk ass) "OH YEA MAN. PASTA." not cool.
i get over there, and it's been forever i guess since i went to the kitchen, which is right you know, like 4 feet from the TV anyway, i get in there, and there's no water in the pan man. boiled it all right on down. burned the shit out of that pasta. It was like a special effect in a movie. i created a 2 inch thick layer of solid black carbon at the bottom of the pan, with some pretty soggy noodles (3 clicks past al dente) on top of the crusty black stone forming in the bottom of the pan. (incidentally, that makes for a tasty "smoked" flavor, if it ever comes up) So, to say the least, that pasta was a wash. In fact, the pan is still soaking right now. i've hit it with the brillo pads and stuff, but you know, it's going to take some time and some patience, and some committment. But i'm committed to that $3 pan from ikea.
well what happened after that is, we crashed out, forget the stupid video game, and when i get up in the morning, it smells like i went around the house lighting spaghetti sticks instead of incense all around the house. So that blows. So i open up the windows to let the place get some air, and don't you know? the temperature had dropped to like 8˚f overnight. Oh yea. good times. so now i've got an artic zephyr blowing through my house, and it smells like a pasta fire on all 3 floors of the house. nice. So, anyway, you'll see a defocused picture of that on today's update too. Went on up to the Whitney on sunday, saw this parade of bolivians and stuff, oh, and then, i started seeing some of the aftermath from the rainstorm the night of scott's party, it was like new york city became an umbrella graveyard over night. If you had an umbrella, you were bringing it to the slaughter. every where i looked, it was trashed umbrellas. on the sidewalks, in the trash cans, under cars, in the gutters, you name it. (by the way, i have somebody's red umbrella from stanton's party. you want it back, you gotta let me know it's yours)
there was something else i wanted to say, but i can't think of it now. It's interesting though, how whenever george w. bush gets into hot water, there's some sort of disaster somewhere off elsewhere in the world that takes all the media attention away from his ass. it's weird. Tsunami's, earthquakes, bombings, on and on they come, and always right when it looks like bush is about to get his ass kicked for being such a dumb ass. It's like that's one of the USA's secret weapons. they're all like, "Oh shit man! they just popped tom delay, man... that's it we're screwed..." and then cheney's like, "na. don't worry about it, i'll have my boys over at halliburton fire up my top secret earthquake machine somewhere far enough away from here that these beer drinking, fox news watching jack ass americans won't even know where it is on a map, and then, they'll all want to send their money and have rock and roll concerts to save the people, and i'll get us another one of them no-bid contracts to rebuild the place for like 80 billion. you'll see georgie, it's all gonna be fine. I'd think you'd have figured that out by now."
and george is scratching his head like a god damned monkey, and he gets that little twisted smile he makes on the side of his mouth, and he says, "you know dick? i like you."
and so on.
i don't know. i'll think of something.
in the meantime, enjoy.
60˚ and cloudy.
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