Wednesday, December 31, 2008

New Wacom Tablet Art

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Sunday, December 21, 2008

My Day in Pictures

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Thursday, December 18, 2008

Of Snowmen and Imagination

When I was at the symphony last sunday, they played music along with a
BBC animation called "The Snowman". It was a beautiful piece about a
boy who builds a snowman who comes to life. Before it finally does
come to life in the night, he is watching it constantly, looking out
the window, always his eyes on it like he ever expected it. And it
reminded me of a feeling I've had. The feeling that everything is
alive around me, ready to spring up and move about whenever my eyes
are not constantly upon it.

Laying awake at night, watching the closet with diligence, KNOWING,
not simply believing but knowing that it is ready to come to life, the
shapes of the shadows crouched and ready to roam free. Everything at
the edge of my vision was always moving, dancing about, sneaking away,
stealing away, and quietly returning, the only thing that ever kept
them still was having my eyes upon them. They never moved when I
looked at them, sitting there, silent, guilty.

Watching this video I suddenly had that feeling all over again. The
overwhelming sense that everything was charged with energy and only my
watchful eye forced the whole world to remain still made my whole mind
come alive with ideas and dreams and visions. It was like magic. I'm
glad I wrote this while it was still fresh in my head.

Monday, December 15, 2008

The Symphony

Last night I went to see Very Merry Pops at the Jesse H. Jones Hall
for the Performing Arts, and it was beautiful. There was moving and
powerful music, and beautiful singing, and even some laughs.

I loved The Snowman, they played along with the brittish animation, it
was beautiful beyond words at points, funny at others, and warm. And
it was so meaningful because I had built my own snowman this week.

I hope the power comes on soon at my house. I miss using the internet at home.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Enough Snow to Make a Texas Snowman

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Friday, December 05, 2008

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Monday, November 17, 2008

Trip to San Antonio

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Friday, November 14, 2008


Tonight, after work, I'm leaving to go to San Antonio to help my
friend George move into his first house. Quite an honor, and I'll be
there all weekend.

I'm a little worried I don't have enough forward movement in my life.
Also that I might not be doing everything I can to get out and

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Another Rainy Day

Sick of so much rain. How it pours, day after day, the rap tap tapping
that is so beautiful on the first evening becomes incessant by the
third. Driving through it every day, the roads flooded, everything
wet, my feet damp when I step out into a puddle near every curb in
order to get to the places where I need to be. It rains, simply, too

I finished Fallout 3 last night, it has been a wonderful experience,
that I enjoyed fully from beginning to end, and I intend to play
through it again, perhaps a little smarter this time.

Looks like Chris fell through and decided not to hang out with me last
night. Oh well, c'est la vie.

I need to read. I need to make my game. I need to draw. I need to
express myself. I am feeling a bit high strung as of late. Maybe my
trip to San Antonio will help me relax.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Long Weekend

It's been a long weekend, I don't know if I've mentioned it here, but
I have been doing a lot of work at Chefs 2b and at my day job. It has
gotten so that most weeks, now, I work 7 days a week. This week, I
didn't have any work to do on sunday, but I did have one party early
on Saturday. Late saturday evening, I went over to Tim and Jamie's
house for pizza and Rock Band. It was a very calm, very nice evening
that I enjoyed quite a bit.

I got tired earlier than usual, and I went home at 11, instead of at
12 or 1. Maybe I'm getting older. Who knows? I think not, since after
I got home, I was still up till 2 reading and enjoying myself, but it
was while lying down and relaxing with Peppers Amadeus Bond, who did
not seem at all interested in sitting still or relaxing, as he tore up
and terrorized my bedroom.

I had been planning for Sunday all week, though I forgot to do some of
my plans. I forgot that I had planned to have an early dinner with my
father at 5 pm, and I slept all morning and afternoon through it.
After that I went to pick up Zac and his girlfriend Lucy. They were in
town playing orchestra concerts at schools around the houston area. I
wish I weren't working during all of their concert times. C'est la

We ate italian, joined by Matt, Justin, and his wife Cymeron. Was an
enjoyable dinner. Afterward, I took Zac and Lucy to my home and let
her try my home-made wines and ales, and let them both browse my
library of books, and let Zac borrow Invisible Monsters, by Chuck

Then, on monday, I had to go into work an hour early. The early
mornings are not very good for me. I got to work and did the weekend
samples, and then I watched Baby Mama, and Get Smart during work. Both
of these movies were superbly amusing, and I laughed quite a bit,
though I expected both to be sub-par. In the evening I took Zac and
Lucy to a music store which opened just for us and then to our little
tea shop in downtown houston. How I enjoyed the wonderful teas on this
trip, it was quite satisfying and relaxing as always. It is sad that I
cannot visit there more often.

I fell asleep early, though, when I got home, with my contacts in,
leading to an unpleasant awakening and realization that I had not set
my alarm clock. It's life, it happens. We'll see how today goes.

Monday, November 03, 2008


At work today, Peter came out to play. I think this is Peter v3.o The
original must certainly be dead. He was out to play long enough for me
to take a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer, then, to email it
to my computer and take a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer on
top of a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer. And then he stayed
out another 30 minutes to an hour, stalking the mouse pointer.

<img src=""
alt="Image Hosted by"/><br/>Shot with <a target="_new"
S5K5AAFA 1.3 MP</a> at 2008-11-03

Another Weekend Gone

I had a really good wine this weekend. I'll have to post the name of
it when I get home, but I enjoyed it a lot. It was given to me as a
tip by a family who threw a birthday party for their daughter on
saturday. Only 3 kids came to the party, I felt a little bad that they
tipped so nice and so few were there to enjoy the fun.

5 parties this weekend. I was so worn out that I didn't do anything
else on saturday or sunday. On Friday, I had a really solid Halloween
hanging out with Tim, Jamie, and Russell. Home-made chili for the win.
We also played rock band, watched scary movies, and played a board
game. Arkham Horror. It's a very rich, imaginative, and complex game,
one of my all time favorites.

HOpe everyone else had a happy halloween.

Friday, October 31, 2008


I am really disappointed in myself for not being productive in any of
the projects I have been wanting to do lately. I feel so inspired, but
I'm just not following through. I need to do something about this.
There are stories I want to write, things I want to draw, etc, etc.

Tonight I'm going over to Tim and Jamie's apartment for Halloween.
Watch cheesey movies, play rock band, pass out candy, and maybe even
play a game of Arkham Horror

Sunday, October 26, 2008


I made a mistake today. I pushed someone I care very deeply for to
tears, and I have jeopardized her trust in me. Would that I could take
back ten minutes of lust.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Like the Fingers of God on the Strings of My Soul

Sometimes I need music,
More than I need air, more than water.
The flesh may die without these things,
But the soul my burn strong.
Music is fuel for the furnace of my soul.

Sometimes I take it for granted,
It can be so easy to forget.
When your soul is already on fire,
Sometimes you can forget to eat.
But when the soul runs dry,
At the times when I feel hollow and empty,
In the midst of moments where your soul feels like it's wasted away,
As if there were no feelings of its own.

That's when I need music.

And apathy,
These forces, they eat at the life inside of me.
They are not feelings, they are the absence of passion and desire,
Indulgence in them feels at first like true emotion,
Each one gives the illusion of substance,
As they fuel your actions,
By burning away at the core of your being,
Their existence taking the space of the things you need.

And then, when they are all gone... nothing left upon which they may feed...

Music is there with every emotion there ever was,
Things that the English language is literally insufficient to describe,
What word is there to describe the feeling where you need to dance,
To describe that you need to dance like you need music?
That you need to cry and dance,
And smile,
And fall down,
And get back up again,
And to hug someone,
And listen to music...

Friday, September 26, 2008

I Watched Something Die

I watched something die today, while I worked. It was a massive stink
bug, something on another day and in another place I would have
happily squashed without a sudden thought.

I was sampling a rail car, and I had just pulled up my zone sampler
full of tar, thick and heavy and drizzling all over the outside of the
tool, when this bug flew right at it. right into it. Its wings stuck
grotesquely in the tar and they became immobile on its back as it
struggled, falling down onto the funnel but not down into my jar. From
this moment it was dead. The tar would kill it, and anything that
might wash the tar off would kill it. It was dead, it just didn't know
it, yet. Crawling about on my bucket and on my sampler and funnel. Two
or three rail cars later, it tried to climb the rope, and as I worked,
it's oil weighted body fell... catching on the side of the hatch to
the car.. the oil keeping it from falling even as it kept it from
holding on... slipping.. sliding horribly downward, slowly losing as
its limbs moved slowly.. as though pushing through water even in the

It finally fell. Landing on the dense tar, a heart wrenchingly slow
submersion into the semi liquid. Flailing legs and squirming, coating
itself ever more thoroughly as it sunk. The black ichor swallowed it
whole, and swallowed it slowly. Forced to stand still while my work
slowly drizzled the vile substance into my collection jar, I watched.
Fascinated, sympathetically, filled with a sort of sickness. How
watching this thing die in such a way made me feel... for something
that I might have squashed without a second thought.

How it occurs to me that it is the way it died that tore at my soul. Slowly.

Nothing should ever die slowly. What worse thing is there for a good
person than to watch the suffering of another being? I ought to have
crushed it when first it landed in my work. Crushed it and forgot it.
Better to have killed it quickly than to watch it drown, never to

I wonder what the dinosaurs that fell into tar looked like.

Sunday, September 07, 2008


I realized something today. Psychiatrists are the greatest diplomats
that have ever walked the earth. If they ever turned their gaze from
individual patients who want treatment and faced it outward on the
world they could bring it tumbling to ruin in heartbeat. It has been
their challenge for as long as the profession has existed to change
people who believe very firmly that the whole world is wrong. The
world is subjective, any way that you see the world that allows you to
function is a good way to see the world. But the way we see the world
is so deeply personal, that even when we see it in a way that stops us
from living a life we want, even when we can identify that and we know
we want to change it, every fiber of our beings fights it.

Psychiatrists have developed and evolved the most brilliant and
coercive and subversive verbage the world has ever known. Every word
they use is carefully aimed like a precision cut to tiptoe around your
emotions and thoughts, passively avoiding questions till they need to
be asked. I was told by a therapist I knew once about the way working
with a schizophrenic goes. Say the schizophrenic has delusions that
the underside of their bed is plagued with snakes that will kill them
any time they try to leave it. As a given, they are convinced of this,
and no direct evidence could ever dispel it from their heads. Their
brain has convinced itself of the snakes' existence. This is an
unhealthy view, how can you live a fulfilling life if you never leave
your bed? You don't confront the delusion, you work around it. You ask
everything you can about the snakes. You find out if there are any
perceived ways that the person can use to get around the snakes
without them attacking. Would it help to tiptoe? Why are the snakes
there? What do the snakes want?

A person gets mad when you tell them that something they believe isn't
true. I think it's because you're challenging their world. I'd
certainly get mad if you tried hard enough to convince me that the
house I lived in wasn't mine. Everything in my universe consistently
supports that I live here, and that I have a tangible right to be
here. It is the same for a man who feels that way about a location
where he does not belong. The same for a stalker who believes that the
person he is chasing belongs with him.

I thought about this, because I was thinking about the verbage I use
to talk to people. I've never thought much about it before, but I
think that it is time that I began paying close attention to the way I
treat and talk to everyone so that I am more aware of my standings. On
some level, I can never understand people when I try to look at them
like a puzzle. They simply aren't puzzles, and it is confusing.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

More BBQ Recipes

I'd really like to post more often. I'm out of the habit, but doing it
helps me reflect more about events going on in my life, and no one
reads this, so it's pretty safe to post anything here.


Source: Recipe courtesy of Steven Raichlen
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 4

For the rub:

2 tablespoons ground dark roast coffee
2 teaspoons coarse salt
1 teaspoon pure chile powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

4 ribeye steaks, at least 1-inch thick (8 to 10 ounces each)
You'll also need:

Red-Eye Steak Sauce (recipe below) for serving (optional)

1-1/2 cups wood chips or chunks (optional), soaked for 1 hour in cold
water to cover,
then drained

Make the rub: In a small bowl, combine the coffee, salt, chile powder,
onion powder, garlic powder, coriander, black pepper, and cinnamon.
Mix well.

Place the steaks on a platter and sprinkle on both sides with the rub.
Let them sit for 15 to 20 minutes while you prepare the grill.

Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to high. If using a
gas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box before
preheating. If using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips on the
coals. When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Place the
steaks on the hot grate and grill, turning with tongs, until cooked to
taste, 4 to 6 minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks to
a warmed platter and let rest for 3 minutes.

Serve with Red-Eye Steak Sauce, if desired.

Makes about 1-1/2 cups

1 tablespoon butter
1 shallot, finely chopped (about 3 tablespoons)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon minced celery
1/2 cup brewed coffee
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup tomato sauce
2 tablespoons heavy cream
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons bourbon
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon style mustard
1 teaspoon liquid smoke
Coarse salt (kosher or sea) and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan. Add the shallot, garlic, and
celery and cook over medium heat until lightly browned, 3 minutes.
Stir in the coffee, ketchup, tomato sauce, cream, soy sauce, bourbon,
Worcestershire sauce, vinegar, mustard, and liquid smoke and gradually
bring to boil.

Reduce the heat slightly and simmer the sauce until thick and richly
flavored, 8 to 10 minutes, whisking from time to time. Correct the
seasoning, adding salt and pepper or any other ingredient to taste


This recipe comes from an unassuming steakhouse in Juarez, Mexico,
called Mitla. Mitla's steaks owe their extraordinary flavor to the
fact that they're cooked over blazing mesquite logs. You can
approximate the flavor by tossing a couple cups of soaked mesquite
chips on a backyard barbecue grill. The fire-charred salsa reinforces
the smoky flavor of the beef.

Source: The Barbecue! Bible by Steven Raichlen (Workman, 2008)
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 4

2 to 4 chiles de arbol (4 give you a nice heat)
2 large ripe tomatoes
1/3 medium onion, sliced
1 clove garlic, sliced
3 tablespoons coarsely chopped cilantro
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 T-bone steaks or sirloin steaks (each about 3/4-inch thick)
4 large or 8 small flour tortillas

You'll also need:
2 cups mesquite wood chips, soaked in cold water to cover for 1 hour,
then drained (optional)

Soak the chiles in a bowl of warm water until pliable, about 20
minutes. Meanwhile, set each tomato directly on a gas stove burner and
roast it over high heat until the skin is charred and blistered on all
sides, 6 to 8 minutes in all. (Or do the tomatoes in a previous
grilling session.) Transfer the tomatoes to a plate and let them cool.

Drain the chiles and remove the seeds if you prefer a milder salsa.
Place the chiles in a blender with the cooled tomatoes and the onion,
garlic, and cilantro, and process to a coarse paste. Add the lime
juice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer the salsa to
a serving bowl.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high. If using a
gas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box before

When ready to cook, if using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips on
the coals. Brush and oil the grill grate. Salt the steaks generously
on one side. Arrange the steaks on the oiled grate, salt side down,
and grill, turning once with tongs, until cooked to taste, 2 to 4
minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks to a platter and
let rest for 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, arrange the tortillas on the grate and grill until soft and
pliable, but not browned, about 20 seconds per side. Serve the steaks
with the tortillas and the salsa on the side.

Friday, August 01, 2008

More Recipes



Sneak preview! Here's a recipe from "Primal Grill with Steven
Raichlen" that hasn't been posted yet at

Method: Indirect grilling
Serves: 8

8 Vidalia or other sweet onions, peeled
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 slices good-quality bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch slices
1/2 cup your favorite brand of sweet red barbecue sauce
Freshly ground black pepper

You'll also need:

8 pieces of aluminum foil, twisted into 2-inch rings or grilling rings
1-1/2 cups of wood chips or chunks, soaked for 1 hour, then drained

Using a sharp paring knife and working opposite the stem end, cut a
cone-shaped cavity in each onion by angling your knife toward the
center and cutting in a circle. Finely chop the onion you've removed.
Set each onion on a foil ring with the cavity facing up.

Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the
bacon and chopped onion and cook over medium heat until lightly
browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain the bacon in a strainer over a bowl.
Place a spoonful of the bacon mixture in the cavity of each onion. Cut
the remaining 4 tablespoons of butter into 8 equal pieces. Spoon 1
tablespoon of the barbecue sauce into each onion and place a piece of
butter on top. Sprinkle with pepper.

Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium. If using
a gas grill, place all of the wood chips or chunks into the smoker box
or a smoker pouch and run the grill on high until you see smoke.
Then reduce heat to medium. If using a charcoal grill, place a large
drip pan in the center and preheat the grill to medium, then toss all
of the wood chips or chunks on the coals.

When ready to cook, place the onions on their rings in the center of
the hot grate, over the drip pan, and away from the heat, and cover
the grill. Cook the onions until they are golden brown and tender, 40
to 60 minutes. To test for doneness, pinch the side of an onion; it
should be squeezably soft. If the filling starts to brown too much
before the onions are fully cooked, cover the onions loosely with
aluminum foil. Transfer the grilled onions to a platter or plates and
serve at once.


Simplify the preparation of these ribs by substituting Best of
Barbecue "Five Spice Barbecue Rub" and "Shanghai Barbecue Sauce" for
the homemade versions here. Find both at

Method: Indirect grilling
Serves: 4 to 6
Advance Preparation: 4 to 6 hours for marinating the meat

3 to 4 pounds beef short ribs, bone-in

For the rub:

2 tablespoons Chinese 5-spice powder
1 tablespoon teaspoon fine grained sea salt
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons ground white pepper

For the Shanghai Barbecue Sauce:

1 cup hoisin sauce
1/3 cup Chinese rice wine (Shaoxing) or dry sherry
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons unseasoned rice vinegar, or more to taste
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon peeled, minced ginger
2 scallions, white and green parts minced

You'll also need:
1-1/2 cups wood chips or chunks, soaked for 1 hour in water to cover, then

Make the rub: Combine the 5-spice powder, salt, sugar, and pepper in a
small bowl and whisk to combine.

Make the barbecue sauce: In a nonreactive saucepan, combine the hoisin
sauce, wine, soy sauce, sugar, ketchup, vinegar, garlic, ginger, and
scallions. Cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until the sauce
thickens (5 to 10 minutes).

Generously sprinkle the ribs on all sides with the rub. Cover the ribs
with plastic wrap and refrigerate them while you set up the grill.

Set up a charcoal grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium.
Place a large drip pan in the center of the grill. When ready to cook,
brush and oil the grill grate. Place the ribs in the center of the
grate over the drip pan and away from the heat. Toss half of the wood
chips on each mound of coals. Cover the grill and cook the ribs until
they are well-browned, cooked through, and tender enough to pull apart
with your fingers, about 1-1/2 to 2 hours. When the ribs are done, the
meat will have shrunk back from the ends of the bones by about 1/4

Just before serving, brush the ribs on all sides with the Shanghai
Barbecue Sauce and move them directly over the fire. Grill until the
sauce is sizzling, 1 to 3 minutes per side. Watch carefully so the
sugars in the barbecue sauce don't burn. Transfer to a large platter
or cutting board and let rest for a few minutes. Serve with the
remaining barbecue sauce on the side.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Books to Read

Amber and the Ashes - all three books in this series

Saturday, July 19, 2008


Even with the lights on the shop felt dark in that way where you know
it's night outside when you can't even see where the nearest window is
in the building. The way the lights seem a little less bright, and
every shadow pushes as deep into circles of the glowing hanging lamps
as you can imagine. Like every minute they protect you less and less
from the shades that cover the world in the absence of the sun.

He pushed her body against the backdoor of the car, her legs
spreading, welcoming him between them in the dark as her skirt pushed
up her thighs, her left leg hooked around his hips. The smell of
grease filled the garage as his fingertips pulled across her bared
thighs. His lips caressed her smile, as she opened wide to accept his
invading tongue as it slid warm and muscular between her lips, licking
at the roof of her mouth as she sucked on it gently, her panties
already damp and feeling constraining about her sex.

Both of his hands rubbed up her body as his hips pressed hard enough
between her spread legs to support her against the body of the car,
her feet locked tight around his ass as both his hands pushed her
shoulders back and her lips away from his kiss before he ripped open
her blouse, exposing her barely covered bre#%!s to the air, pushing
down her bra and leaning in, his lips wrapping tight around her right
nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

Smiling, he closed his teeth around the hard nub of the nipple and
flicked it as fast as he could up and down with his quick tongue
sending electric shivers through her body, her hips forcing themselves
harder against the hard bulge in his jeans. Her fingers pushed through
his hair as she gripped his head and held him close, encouraging every
movement of his lips and tongue. Every single muscle in her body went
taught and ready to go at the grinding of that hard shaft against her
motor, and his fingers knew just how to stroke her.

Delicately, her fingers reached down below his working lips and
between her legs, undoing the restraints covering him, letting out the
bare flesh that she craved against her body as her mouth opened and
moans filled the air, mingling with the smell of sweat and used oil as
she accidentally knocked a wrench to the floor off the top of the car
behind her when she threw her head back.

Nothing was better than a mechanic inside of her... they just always
seemed to know how to rev her engine...


I hope you don't feel guilty enough to keep yourself from imagining me
stopping the elevator that we are on in the office after hours, when
there is no one left to call it to another floor and let you out..
before I move towards you, reaching a hand out, wrapping my fingers in
your shirt and pulling you to me... sliding my tongue out and flicking
it at your neck, letting you feel it hot, wet, textured against the
skin of your neck, not quite hot enough to distract you from the
feeling of my hips pressing against your body, a hard bulge in them
pushing into your belly as you feel my command of the situation, of
your body.

Can you find it in yourself to forget any reason you ever might have
thought of to stop yourself from letting your head roll back, and
exposing yourself for me, like a gift, a simple surrender. Helpless as
my touch gropes at your hips and belly, pushing your shirt up your
body till you feel my fingers, strong and determined wrapping around
your breast, the curve of your tit, and giving it a firm squeeze,
handling it like it is my own personal plaything. Can you forget any
reason not to arch your back and give them both to me, to take and
show you how well I treat my toys?

Can you forgive yourself for being compromised if it was all me?
Pushing myself upon you, taking you helpless to the carpeted floor as
my fingertips trace your breast, its smooth curves, its soft surface,
always getting so close to teasing your hardening nipple, but never
quite flicking across its sensitive tip. My attentions maddeningly
making you want more, but stubbornly denying it as your breathing
quickens underneath my tall body holding you to the ground, my lips
moving slowly, steadily, with a mind of their own up and down your
neck, making it difficult for you to think with the hot moist massage
of my steamed and ever heavier breath on your neck, behind your ear,
on your skin behind your hair as it falls out of place.

No one in the world would find blame in you for spreading your legs
for me at the moment my fingers finally flick just barely across the
tips of your exposed nipples, to let me have what I want, to save
yourself from the force I would have to use if you tried to stop me.
When you're mugged, you give your wallet, when you're here, under me,
you give yourself. It only makes sense to spread your legs, your knees
raising up, your skirt falling down till it is spread out and rumpled
around your hips at the moment that you feel that hard bulge again,
pressing against your underwear, pressing into it, grinding, hard
enough that you can feel how thick it is, as the lips under your
dampening fabric spread out, you feel it between them, the barrier of
our clothes like hateful wall, preventing you from feeling the heat of
naked flesh. If it isn't your fault, you might as well be satisfied by
it, after all.

You might as well use your fingers to undo the clasp on my slacks..
and pull your underwear aside when I thrust down, letting you feel the
round slippery head of my flesh, dripping with thick fluid all the way
down the length of your spread lips, stroking commandingly along your
exposed pink center. You might as well thrust your hips up when you
feel it, round, wet, in charge, pressing just barely over where it
fits inside, pressing just barely a quarter of an inch, sinking inside
of you too slow. Is there any reason not to pound your hips forward
and let out a little scream, here, in the elevator, where no one can
hear whether it's a cry for help or for more, a scream of pleasure at
the feeling of that whole length thrusting deep inside of you as My
lips finally touch yours, wrapping around your lower lip, tugging on
it with my teeth, my right hand tracing circles around the curve of
your ass, bumping over the scrunched up line that tugs to let the
center of your underwear pull aside and let me in, and back down again
before I pull my hand back and swat it right on you, just as I am
grinding inside of you, the pain of the hard smack feeling like pure
ecstasy as it mingles in your body with the heated pleasure shooting
up your spine, till you can't tell which is which.

Is there any reason left why you shouldn't buck your hips hard enough
to roll me down underneath you when I'm not moving fast enough for
you. Is there any reason left in the world that you shouldn't buck and
grind and rip at my throbbing probing flesh inside of you till your
whole body is battered with the spasms of overwhelming o%g#@!s, your
whole body cumming with the beat of your wild hips against my willful
control over you....

I hope you can let yourself imagine that...

Lost in the Feeling

She found herself leaning further and further into his arms,
forgetting to pay attention to the world around her as his lips moved
against the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, sometimes not even
touching the neck itself, feeling more like a presence behind her. His
right arm completely encompassed her waist, his fingers touching on
her hip and belly. She wondered if he knew the effect of the almost
thoughtless circles his trimmed nails drew on her flesh through her
shirt and jeans were having on her, or if they were as innocent as
they were slow.

It never even occurred to her that she'd looked away from the movie
screen entirely. Both eyes were closed, anyway. His lips made full use
of her fully exposed neck, available completely for the attention of
his lips as she felt his fingertips slide under her shirt, and then
the quick pop of the button on her jeans slipping free. This wasn't
why she was here, she didn't really want this. She didn't have to stop
him just yet, it wasn't as bad as it could be. She hadn't kissed him
yet, there wasn't even anything that she would have to tell her
boyfriend. Those fingers just knew what they were doing too well to
stop them when all they were doing was lightly rubbing her belly.

Just a few more minutes and she would go and get a drink, and that
would be that. Solutions were never any simpler, she thought as she
turned her back to his chest, spreading her legs as his fingers began
to trace the edge of her underwear.

Gardens of the Afterlife

"It's beautifully maintained."

"Thank you," Simon replied very simply, smiling. His heart was in his
work, and he felt it was visible how much care he placed in it. Few
people ever said much to him about it, though. Simon didn't really
expect them to, they frequently had so much else on their minds. He
wasn't sure whether she knew that it was his work her compliment had
gone to.

He didn't know her name, either, but she was pretty. Her hair did that
thing where the sun glittered off of it around the edges and made it
look like it was giving off light on its own. She sat down next to him
at the edge of the pond. It was Simon's favorite spot. Not because of
how pretty the pond looked, or the view, though they were both quite
excellent. It was really the sound of the babbling of the tiny
fountains churning the water that he liked.

It was the only noise he ever heard inside of the walls of the
Lakeside Cemetery aside from the guests. It's not that there was
anything un-natural about the quiet inside the gates, or that Simon
was supernatural. He just liked a little bit of noise in the
background, something soothing.

After a moment, he turned to her and asked, "Are you here visiting
someone close?"

She nodded gently, saying, "My father."

"Were you close?"

She looked out, eyes drifting across the mild hilly landscape, filled
with trees and lattice covered trails and so many tombstones, even a
few small mausoleums. His question wen unanswered for an uncomfortably
long moment, and Simon found himself becoming quite aware of the
feeling of the sunlight on his back, hot even with the cool weather.

"No," she finally answered. "No, I wasn't really close to him. I don't
even really know why I'm here today. I just felt sad, and... well... I
don't know."

Wind blew through the grounds, a quick cool breeze that disturbed
Simon's hair. He understood. Not in any way that he could spell out or
express what she meant, but he understood. This place was beautiful,
and sometimes words just could not express why. He looked out to the
right, at the top of the nearest hill, where the sculpture of and
angel peered out, standing guard over the eternal resting places of
the permanent inhabitants of these walls.

"There's healing in this place. I've found it here."

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Politics Explained

FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.

PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and
puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care
of all of the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.

BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes
them and put them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared
for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the
government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as
much milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.

FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you
to take care of them and sells you the milk.

PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take
care of them, and you all share the milk.

RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of
them, but the government takes all the milk.

CAMBODIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both
of them and shoots you.

DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick
someone to tell you who gets the milk.

BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates
what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you
not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and
pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms
accounting for the missing cows.

PURE ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a
fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.

LIBERTARIAN/ANARCHO-CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one
and buy a bull.

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to
take harmonica lessons.

(Original source unknown . . . this version expanded and Illuminated by SJ.)

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

More Poetry

"The Sick Rose"
O rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.


Another vehicle bites the dust, my Jeep is dead. I loved her dearly.
Time for the process of hunting down another decent car at a decent
price, and getting my problems straightened out.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Asking For It

Pushing her to the wall, roughly, violently, angrily, his satisfaction
at the release of his rage making him throb in his pants. He'd never
forced a woman to do anything before, but she had provoked and
provoked and provoked, always saying no, always moving his hands away!

Grabbing her hands and twisting her body, the young man thrust again
against the wall, rubbing her body against it as his bulging pants
ground hard against the rising hem of the skirt above her pert round
ass. It was time to make that ass pay the checks it was writing. He
bit down on her shoulder, her skin glistening with moisture already
from the heat of the summer day, the heat that would not go out of his
head, the heat that clouded his mind, the heat that was just one more
straw on the mound of mounting stress that made him too furious to
control himself.

She moaned, her body taken, her legs spreading. Every buck of his hips
against her ass thrusting and rubbing her whole body between the wall
and his chest. Oh how she moaned, moaned out a hushed and whispered
plea, " no... please no..."

His hand moved before he even thought about what he was doing. It
struck across her bared ass with a violent clap of palm and fingers
across vulnerable skin, leaving it tingling, and slightly off color in
the center of her cheek. She let out a moaning cry, thrusting her ass
against his hand before the second strike fell. Was she still
encouraging him? Her further cries from each strike silencing her
pleading lips.

His fingers grabbed and arched and finally the spanking slowed as he
tore at her underwear, his fingers pushing forward and rubbing deep
along the lips of her c%n# from behind as his palm reached down her
bare and deeply shaded ass. They probed, and prodded, feeling damp as
he stroked through the thin fabric of the garment, before tearing it
aside and stroking bare flesh. Faint curses barely even whispered
escaped her lips when his fingers began to work inside of her,
whispers lost entirely amidst the moans the feelings she was unable to
control as they made her body succumb to his teasing.

Without even a thought, his pants were undone, and his hard throbbing
shaft was buried to his balls in her tight flesh, his right hand
wrapped around her body. Her shirt was ripped open to her middle, her
breast exposed, her bra displaced as her nipples displayed openly, as
much as the wetness leaking between her thighs, her needs, and
betrayed the false nature of her struggles. Her arms twisted, her body
squirmed, all a show of resistance, each action only grinding her
body, as every inch of it had seemed to become a sensual erogenous
zone, rubbed against her aggressor.

He filled her up, violating her. It was quick, and violent. Both
bodies sweat from the exertion as he forced her again and again, mixed
fluids dripping down her thighs. They grew sticky with sweat and seed
clinging together whenever their sides touched.

When he had done with her, he pulled back, dripping, his pants about
his ankles and threw her to the bed in anger, his c%!* still raging
hard from the heat of the moments. She lay there, her clothes ripped,
every hidden bit of her flesh exposed, sweaty, and covered in the
secretions of their sins.

Her lips parted, and she moaned, "I've been waiting for you to get the
balls to do that for weeks..."

Those words drizzled through the air like oil as they massaged their
way into his ears, her form twisting as he stood, towering over her as
she lay spent on the bed, her fingers reaching upward... wrapping
around his c%!*.. and followed shortly by her briefly still unsullied

Friday, June 13, 2008

I Love Poetry

by Langston Hughes:
The new wikipedia tour of poets is pretty excellent so far. I'm
touring both poets and wine, and while the wine is extremely
educational, I'm loving the poets more. Every email so far has
introduced me to a knew poet, or one that I'd heard the poetry of but
didn't know the name. Today, though, it was simply a very good reason
to revisit the works of Langston Hughes. Everyone should take this
wikipedia tour, and remember to find the links in the article to

"Harlem" by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Monday, June 09, 2008

Recipes From Steven


Source: The Barbecue Bible by Steven Raichlen (Workman, 2008)
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 6

For the burgers:

2-1/4 pounds ground beef (preferably ground chuck)
6 slices (each 1/2-inch thick) Vidalia or other sweet onion (optional)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, or 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 hamburger buns

For the toppings– any or all:

Iceberg lettuce leaves
Sliced ripe tomatoes
Sliced dill pickles or sweet pickles
Cooked bacon (2 slices per burger)
Ketchup, Mustard, and Mayonnaise

Divide the meat into six equal portions. Lightly wet your hands with
cold water, then form each portion of meat into a round patty about 4
inches across.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.

When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate.

If using onion slices, brush them on both sides with melted butter and
season with salt and pepper. Place the onion on the hot grate and
grill until nicely browned, about 4 minutes per side, then transfer to
a plate.

Brush one side of the meat patties lightly with melted butter and
season with salt and pepper. Arrange the burgers, buttered side down,
on the hot grate and grill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to
5 minutes. Brush the tops lightly with some of the melted butter and
season them with salt and pepper. Using a spatula, turn the burgers
and grill until they are browned and cooked to taste, 4 to 5 minutes
longer for medium. Meanwhile, brush the cut sides of the buns with the
remaining melted butter and toast them, cut sides down, on the grill
during the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.

Set out the toppings. Put the burgers and onion slices on buns and serve.


Source: Recipe courtesy of Steven Raichlen
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 6

2-1/2 pounds ground lamb
1 3-inch log of goat cheese, chilled
Coarse salt (kosher or sea) and freshly ground black pepper
6 pita breads
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Wasabi Cream for serving (recipe follows)

Lightly wet your hands with cold water and divide the ground lamb into
12 equal portions. Form each into a round patty about 1/2 inch thick.
Cut the goat cheese into six equal rounds.

Place a round of goat cheese on a lamb patty; top with another patty
and seal the edges.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.

When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Brush one side of
the lamb patties lightly with olive oil and season with salt and
pepper. Arrange the burgers, oiled side down, on the hot grate and
grill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to 5 minutes. Brush the
tops lightly with olive oil and season them with salt and pepper.
Using a spatula, turn the burgers and grill until they are browned and
cooked to taste, 4 to 5 minutes longer for medium. Meanwhile, brush
the pita breads with the remaining olive oil and toast them on the
grill during the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.

Split or slice the pita breads to accommodate the burgers. Serve with
Wasabi Cream.

Wasabi Cream

Makes about 1 cup

1 to 2 tablespoons wasabi powder, or more to taste
1 tablespoon lemon juice (or more as needed)
1 cup mayonnaise (Hellmann's preferred)

Combine the wasabi powder and lemon juice and mix until a smooth paste
is formed. Let sit for 5 minutes for the flavors to develop. Add the
mayonnaise and whisk to combine. Refrigerate until serving time.

Saturday, June 07, 2008


My birthday was pretty good. I heard from a lot of people and I felt
really loved. I am having to cancel my bbq plans for tomorrow at my
mom's request, and there is no schedule to have them some other time.
I'm not happy with that, but c'est la vi...

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Memorial Day Addendum

So I don't forget, I am proud to say that Robert, Cassie, Matt,
Michael Anne, Justin, Cymeron, Tim, Jamie, Jackson, Jake, John, Kevin,
Russell, Greg, Trent, Chuck, and my mom all made it to the party, and
it was my pleasure and honor to cook for all of them.

Memorial Day

Super late blog follows:

Memorial day was awesome. Almost everyone chipped in. I've never in my
life cooked a brisket with all the extras for so cheap. Only 60 bucks
and the whole party of 17 - 19 people was fed to stuffed.

I made the best brisket in my life, which was surprising. I overcooked
it a little, so the meat was a bit tough, but the seasoning was the
best I've ever done. But I also did something else special.. instead
of just slicing it, all of it, including awkwardly slicing the tip.. I
chopped the tip up to make chopped beef sandwiches with, which turned
out AMAZING. People loved the brisket, but the sandwiches were even
more impressive and they were devoured incredibly quickly.

Kevin FINALLY brought the potato salad that his mom makes that he is
always bragging about. And.. I really have to say, it was every bit as
good as he described. It was the mustard kind, which is my favorite.
I've only had his mom's cooking a few times, but she is very good.

Robert made it, and he brought some lemon souffles, which were
delicious! I loved them, and learned how to make them on wednesday
after a long day at work. I really like Chefs 2b.

The parties are going really well there, and I'm having lots of fun
doing them. I particularly like making the cupcakes, because the
batter tastes so good.

Anywho, I don't remember all the events, but Rock Band went VERY well
that night, I made a breakthrough on the drums and I can beat almost
every song on medium now. Soon on to hard. Everyone played a lot.

It was awesome, Jake managed to come over even though he was very
tired from a weekend of partying at a relative's reunion.

Okay, tomorrow is my birthday and tonight my mom is taking me out to
eat, so I am out of here. I don't know what we're eating, but I can't
wait to find out.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008


If you consider that there has been an average of 160,000 troops in the Iraq
theatre of operations during the last 22 months, and a total of 2,112
deaths, that gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 10,000 soldiers.

The firearm death rate in Washington D.C. is 80.6 per 10,000 for the same

That means that you are about 25% more likely to be shot and killed in
theU.S. Capitol, which has some of the strictest gun control laws in the
nation, than you are in Iraq.

Conclusion: The U.S. should pull out of Washington immediately.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Indiana Jones

Pretty good movie. Saw it Wednesday night, and I was pretty impressed. Very old school. Not absolutely amazing, but very enjoyable.

I also started playing the Penny Arcade game, beautifully named "On the Rain Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode One", which I have already finished and found IMMENSELY wonderful, so much so that I am VERY eagerly awaiting Episode Two. The characters were beautifully done, the transitions between animation and 3d were excellently performed, the combat well balanced, and the pacing of the entire experience very precisely executed for a very superbly paced experience.

Also, the cooking classes at Chefs 2b are getting much better, today I was on time, well paced, the only mistake I made was not filling up the cupcake papers high enough and wasting a little batter, but next time I will do better. When I talk to Robert, now that he's back from his honeymoon, I'm going to ask him if Jeannette, who has been wonderful.

My free HD DVDs from Toshiba arrived in the mail. Only got one of the ones I asked for, Aeon Flux. They sent me a copy of The Departed, which I already own, The Order of the Phoenix, which I'm not interested in owning, Casino, which, admittedly, I've never seen before, Mission Impossible 2, which I disliked entirely. So.. I got one good movie and one that may be good. Pretty lame deal.

I really shouldn't try to catch up three or four weeks of not blogging regularly with one post. I'm barely scratching the last few weeks surface, because even being swamped at work I've managed to completely fill my spare time.

Oh well. It's good that I'm busy.

I have another kids party for Chefs 2b tomorrow.

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