(no subject)
Wake up! Wake up! Good morning inmates of Wit's Gulag, it is time for your morning announcements. Wake up, pay attention, and please remember to clean your bed pans, because we are NOT going to take any crap from you! Today we will be discussing the state of daily activities, special penal events, why the power is out, and remember Hello my droogs... I suppose I have been lax in updating and consequentially not causing you to snarf your coffee on to your computer screen. Now one may argue whether snarfing is actually an inhalation of coffee or an exhalation. Since I am drinking coffee right at this moment, I decided to experiment with this process. The correct proceedure is to wait until one is in mid-swallow, then snarf. A snarf by definition is a combination of a cough, sneeze, laugh, and an attempt to not release anything from one's posterior at the same time. This has the side effect of causing one to both inhale AND exhale one's chosen beverage onto whatever surface happens to be in front of you. The discomfort sometimes causes one to actual soil one's self. Granted that portion of snarfing is simply for the bemusement of everyone else in the room as they watch you wander off to change your two dollar Payless drawers in shame. Now at the moment, I find it amazingly easy to mimic this action since I have apparently relapsed with the plague. THE PLAGUE!!! Trust me, its worse the second time around, I was no where near as clammy the first time this infectious invader batted down my immuno-fortress. Shaking my hand can now be compared to recieving a warm greeting from a gelid mortician. I must look like a frost-bitten zombie. Anyway... let us move on to the report in general. I am now stuck in Lakeland at my mother's home. Now for those of you who have been around long enough, you will recall that it was a cold day stuck at my mother's that the foundation for Wit's Gulag was orginally poured. The concrete was composed of listlessness, and the bricks of sheer boredom. That however is not the case entirely this time around. For reasons I'd rather not get into, my home back in Tampa is currently without electricity, and will probably remain that way for a month or more. So, Lakeland is now where I abide. Its temporary, but I must say it is rather nice to live in a real home. Czar Caticus the First is acclimating well, and has found that being the only animal in the house with front claws definately places him at the top of the food chain. I believe the squinty look he is giving me denotes that he is rather pleased with this, and probably wants his catnip mousy now.
Things go well though, all in all. While I am still in the process of getting some of my stuff here, I have found I can still get to class without any unreasonable effort. Granted that is entirely due to the fantastic bed-fellow that seems to like frequenting my new home. It seems that my present residence is a lot more stress free than Tampa, and she and my mother have become good friends. Watching tv with each other and talking about coffee... or whatever women talk about when you are not in the room. You know... That time when you walk into the room and they both suddenly stop talking and stare at you like they were five year old children who just got caught painting on the kitchen wall with their own feces. All men know that look. It is a look that causes chills to run down our spines, our eyes to widen like a an '87 Chevy about to be smushed by a Moose (and if anyone has hit a moose, or has seen someone hit a moose, you know that in the mortal combat between Moose and Car... Moose always wins! Flawless Victory!), and every embarressing incident in our young lives to rush through our heads in fear of which was being discussed. Unfortunately I believe this is a genetic reaction passed down from the days of the caveman, because even if we knew what they were talking about this reaction still occurs. As if we expect that discussing the cast of K*Ville is actually a jumbled form of pig-latin used between mothers and girlfriends to discuss embarressing bubble bath moments when you were five and pretending to be a tugboat captain.
It is a bit of a drive for her to get out here, but since she only works three days a week, it really isn't so bad. Her new job is a bit odd, consisting of a large dance floor, a BYOB policy, operating hours of 9pm to 9am, and back rooms full of places for people to fuck. Yes, I said fuck. A swingers club called NightMoves II. I have to say it is rather harrying having swingers trying to get into your significant other's pants on a regular occasion, but I have found her a loyal and loving companion. Okay, let me rephrase that. It is harrying when you yourself are not a swinger. Everyone who is a swinger I am sure is more than happy with that scenario. By the by, I will find the location of the club for those of you that wish to go. I think there is some school girl weekend coming up soon. And this weekend is PJs night. Its a bit expensive if you aren't a member to go inside, but they are apparently packed regularly.
I on the other hand sit here staring at a motorcycle that just won't move. I mean, I have seen it move. It got itself all the way to the house in Tampa, sounded like it was fine. Granted soon as its there it won't turn on again. The battery now being bone dry. Seems the place only left enough battery juice, gasoline, and oil to get it home, because now every single one of these crucial ingrediants to me moving, seem to be gone. The gas tank was empty, the oil was empty, the battery dead. They only changed one tire instead of both. It seems that the guy I went through to deal with them only told them certain things to repair, and they only repaired those things. That's it. Nothing else. Nada, zippo, zilch. Ah, well. At least here in Lakeland there is enough places that aren't mom & pop's that I can actually get a temporary job. Don't get me wrong, I love mom & pop places, but they have a tendency not to hire anyone. Just how small business works. When the job can be done by two people, why hire a third?
Other than writing this, playing a few video games, and checking up on an email account that no one writes to, I am pretty much a potato. I have repaired most of what I can around the house, though I do have some painting and carpet repair to go through. Unfortunately that can't happen until my mother comes home at a reasonable hour to tell me exactly what she wants done with this wood floor she wants me to install. So I suppose I have at least been useful. Unfortunately, over the past two months I have gone from a okay cook, to a rather good one. Without much else to do with my days i nthe past month or so, I have began to research recipes and other such wonderful tidbits. It helps that my stepmother in Michigan gave me subscriptions to both Cook's Illustrated, and Cooking Magazine. She is such a sweetheart. Not to mention, www.foodnetwork.com my home away from home. Simply marvelous. The only problem with the site is that if you have no clue what you want to make, it takes for ever to look stuff up. Within the past month or so I have come across three recipes that I am actually spectactular at. Okay... that might be pushing it. I am rather good at. There. That sounds less egotistical. My meatloaf is pretty damn good, long as I remember the onions and I have the right meats. After eating it my mother is hinting at the fact that while I live here she wants me to cook from now on. If it gets me some practice, I really can't complain. Next comes my pride and joy. Polish Perogies. I found a beautiful recipe for these that included a sour cream dough that set in fifteen minutes instead of an overnight affair. Granted I had to edit the recipe because it only called for beef and cheese, and I don't believe in perogies that don't also have potatoes and onions. These came out so fantasticlly. The recipe makes about 30 to 40 perogies. I also found, that while I prefer to dip them in sour cream, they also go well in ketchup, blue cheese dressing, or a ginger dressing. Who knew? One last thing, is that I have found a way to make my own ranch dressing, and I am horribly fond of it. Its really easy too. If anyone else is interested in making their own, it calls for some white wine vineger, but I found that red wine vineger works pretty well too, and gives it an interesting variation to the normal flavor.
Well, all in all I think I have ranted about the random enough. So I shall bid you all farewell until I feel well enough to write again.
Love,
Matt
Things go well though, all in all. While I am still in the process of getting some of my stuff here, I have found I can still get to class without any unreasonable effort. Granted that is entirely due to the fantastic bed-fellow that seems to like frequenting my new home. It seems that my present residence is a lot more stress free than Tampa, and she and my mother have become good friends. Watching tv with each other and talking about coffee... or whatever women talk about when you are not in the room. You know... That time when you walk into the room and they both suddenly stop talking and stare at you like they were five year old children who just got caught painting on the kitchen wall with their own feces. All men know that look. It is a look that causes chills to run down our spines, our eyes to widen like a an '87 Chevy about to be smushed by a Moose (and if anyone has hit a moose, or has seen someone hit a moose, you know that in the mortal combat between Moose and Car... Moose always wins! Flawless Victory!), and every embarressing incident in our young lives to rush through our heads in fear of which was being discussed. Unfortunately I believe this is a genetic reaction passed down from the days of the caveman, because even if we knew what they were talking about this reaction still occurs. As if we expect that discussing the cast of K*Ville is actually a jumbled form of pig-latin used between mothers and girlfriends to discuss embarressing bubble bath moments when you were five and pretending to be a tugboat captain.
It is a bit of a drive for her to get out here, but since she only works three days a week, it really isn't so bad. Her new job is a bit odd, consisting of a large dance floor, a BYOB policy, operating hours of 9pm to 9am, and back rooms full of places for people to fuck. Yes, I said fuck. A swingers club called NightMoves II. I have to say it is rather harrying having swingers trying to get into your significant other's pants on a regular occasion, but I have found her a loyal and loving companion. Okay, let me rephrase that. It is harrying when you yourself are not a swinger. Everyone who is a swinger I am sure is more than happy with that scenario. By the by, I will find the location of the club for those of you that wish to go. I think there is some school girl weekend coming up soon. And this weekend is PJs night. Its a bit expensive if you aren't a member to go inside, but they are apparently packed regularly.
I on the other hand sit here staring at a motorcycle that just won't move. I mean, I have seen it move. It got itself all the way to the house in Tampa, sounded like it was fine. Granted soon as its there it won't turn on again. The battery now being bone dry. Seems the place only left enough battery juice, gasoline, and oil to get it home, because now every single one of these crucial ingrediants to me moving, seem to be gone. The gas tank was empty, the oil was empty, the battery dead. They only changed one tire instead of both. It seems that the guy I went through to deal with them only told them certain things to repair, and they only repaired those things. That's it. Nothing else. Nada, zippo, zilch. Ah, well. At least here in Lakeland there is enough places that aren't mom & pop's that I can actually get a temporary job. Don't get me wrong, I love mom & pop places, but they have a tendency not to hire anyone. Just how small business works. When the job can be done by two people, why hire a third?
Other than writing this, playing a few video games, and checking up on an email account that no one writes to, I am pretty much a potato. I have repaired most of what I can around the house, though I do have some painting and carpet repair to go through. Unfortunately that can't happen until my mother comes home at a reasonable hour to tell me exactly what she wants done with this wood floor she wants me to install. So I suppose I have at least been useful. Unfortunately, over the past two months I have gone from a okay cook, to a rather good one. Without much else to do with my days i nthe past month or so, I have began to research recipes and other such wonderful tidbits. It helps that my stepmother in Michigan gave me subscriptions to both Cook's Illustrated, and Cooking Magazine. She is such a sweetheart. Not to mention, www.foodnetwork.com my home away from home. Simply marvelous. The only problem with the site is that if you have no clue what you want to make, it takes for ever to look stuff up. Within the past month or so I have come across three recipes that I am actually spectactular at. Okay... that might be pushing it. I am rather good at. There. That sounds less egotistical. My meatloaf is pretty damn good, long as I remember the onions and I have the right meats. After eating it my mother is hinting at the fact that while I live here she wants me to cook from now on. If it gets me some practice, I really can't complain. Next comes my pride and joy. Polish Perogies. I found a beautiful recipe for these that included a sour cream dough that set in fifteen minutes instead of an overnight affair. Granted I had to edit the recipe because it only called for beef and cheese, and I don't believe in perogies that don't also have potatoes and onions. These came out so fantasticlly. The recipe makes about 30 to 40 perogies. I also found, that while I prefer to dip them in sour cream, they also go well in ketchup, blue cheese dressing, or a ginger dressing. Who knew? One last thing, is that I have found a way to make my own ranch dressing, and I am horribly fond of it. Its really easy too. If anyone else is interested in making their own, it calls for some white wine vineger, but I found that red wine vineger works pretty well too, and gives it an interesting variation to the normal flavor.
Well, all in all I think I have ranted about the random enough. So I shall bid you all farewell until I feel well enough to write again.
Love,
Matt