In Dog We Trust

…as long as we’re not trusting him with food:)

What follows is stream of conciousness stuff that has been bouncing around in my head since my last post. Enjoy…or not…whatever.

Fuck allergies. Fuck them with a white hot metal fencepost wrapped in razor wire. Twice.

I’m pretty sure that most of the populace of the United States agrees with me that if our soldiers were not in Mid East and we didn’t need the oil, the whole area could vanish from the face of the earth and we would not give a rats ass.

If you want an escape from the “Will winter NEVER end?” blues, it’s hard to beat eating a salad made from tender new greens outta your garden.

While it does not irredeemably suck ass, “Iron Chef America” is still a very pale imitation of the original. Maybe the addition of Cat Cora as the first female Iron Chef will help kick things up a notch.

After a rather long while, it looks as tho I’ll soon be doing some RPG writing again.

If Terri Schiavo had been my wife, there is no way in hell I would have let her languish for 15 fuckin’ years. She would have had a quick and painless death long ago and her family, church, the courts and the government be damned.

“Lost” gets stranger by the episode, yet Grace and I are powerless to turn away. Maybe that’s why they titled it “Lost”.

Surfing On a Crime Wave

We just got done watching “Dragons: A Fantasy Made Real” on Animal Planet. Pretty cool show, altho I would have liked to have seen more on the feathered serpents and other draconians of the New World. Still, a fun show to watch. And narrated by Patrick Stewart!

On April 10th, Discovery Channel is going to run a program called “Supervolcano”, a dramatization of how the pyroclastic shit will hit the fan when the Yellowstone supercaldera finally blows up. Should be interesting to watch.

Water Go Down The Hole!

Quote courtesy of Baby Plucky Duck on “Tiny Toon Adventures”

Holy shit! Just as few minutes ago the sky just opened up and dumped more rain in about 10 minutes than I’ve ever seen…even when I was in the tropics. Knocked out the power to everyone except us, looks like. And HAIL fell…a bunch of it. Hope it doesn’t damage my spinach and lettuce.

Roscoe got up outta bed in the middle of all that and wanted to go out and pee. I opened the front door for him (he was on a 16 foot leash) and he looked at the Weather From Hell and then gave me a “You have GOT to be shitting me” look…and then he peed on the porch. Which is what I would have done in his place.

Oh yeah, summer and the dry heat just can’t come fast enough for me.

She Was Wearing A Sword And A Smile And Nothing Else

Yeah, 1979 was a good year:)

It’s allergy season here in the Great Cental Valley and, as usual, IT FUCKING SUCKS! I’ve been sneezing and blowing my nose and having my eyes itch and feeling crappy all week. I’m getting REALLY tired of it. At least I’m not alone, since it seems like every other person in Sacramento is getting a ride on the Allergy Express. Hopefully, I’ll be free of this crap in another week or so.

It’s supposed to be rainy this weekend, so instead of doing my gardening thing, I’ll most likely do some more writing. I may even tempt my Sweet Little Rockhopper Penguin Of Love into playing a boardgame or two.

Well, I think I’ll have another sneezing attack and then go play a bit of Runescape before heading off to work. More bloggage later

Magic Puppy Time

Or not:)

I made a serious attempt to work myself to death today. I pulled weeds in the garden, which required me to be bent over more than a new punk in Cell Block D. I transplanted a bunch of plants, including more daylilies. I raked, hoed, watered and hauled piles of weeds to the Humongous Big Compost Pile.

And then I came inside and tore up all the carpet in the hallway to the bedrooms. It was old and stained by the pee accidents that Roscoe has had since his bladder control has been weakening, so out it went. Eventually, ALL the carpeting and other floorings in this house will be removed and replaced with some form of laminate.

After all that, I took a shower and collapsed into the recliner I’m sitting in now. I shall sleep well tonight.

In other news…the trailer for SIN CITY looks totally fucking cool! I can hardly wait to see the full film.

I enjoyed Wil Wheaton’s stint on CSI the other night. Go, Big Willy!

Besides being a slave to my horticultural demons, I did manage to get some writing done this weekend. I won’t say what I wrote just yet, but it’s lookin’ pretty good.

Well, time to rise up outta this chair and start a pot of spaghetti sauce cooking. More bloggishness later.

Iron Chef: Screaming Hot Chili Battle

It’s hot…too hot.

Boy howdy…I just got done scarfing down some of my “Hell In Your Mouth” chili. I can feel my stomach lining dissolving even as I write this. As opposed to my lips and tongue, which have had all the nerve endings burnt off them, and so feel nothing.

For those of you who are foodies, masochists or both…here’s the recipe.


3 pounds lean beef, cut into half inch cubes
10 cloves of garlic…peeled & smashed
3 tablespoons ground cumin
2 tablespoons dried mexican oregano
half a cup of freshly ground dried pasilla chiles (minus seeds)
6 ounces of pureed habanero chiles (minus seeds)
half a cup of chipotle chiles in adobo sauce
half a cup of corn masa mixed with half a cup of water
2 bottles of beer
a bit of canola oil, salt and pepper

Take a large cast iron frying pan and get it VERY hot in your oven. Once it is hot, add the oil, the meat and salt and pepper to taste. Don’t try cooking all the meat at once. The idea is to sear the meat cubes quickly.

Once the meat is all seared, dump it into a big pot. Add everything else, stir it all up and put the pot on your stove. Turn the heat to MEDIUM and wait until the contents get nice and hot. Now turn the heat to LOW, cover the pot and walk away. Come back every 20 minutes or so and stir things. When the meat has fallen apart, the chili is done.

Eat at your own risk, preferably with corn tortillas and a good mexican cheese.

A Day Spent Pimpslapping Weeds

And it was exactly that:)

The following comes as no real surprise…

What Flavour Are You? I tashte like Alcohol.I tashte like Alcohol.

Heh. Heh. I taste like beer. I like beer. Buy me a beer. I’m not drunk, I can drink plenty without… What was I saying? Beer. What Flavour Are You?

So anyway, my day as The Weedinator got off to a bit of a late start because Grace and I…

A: Slept in a bit later than normal.
B: Helped a friend of hers move a few things
C: Had lunch with said friend and..
D: Stopped by Viking Hobby to pick up my copy of DORK TOWER #30
(Which was excellent, muskrat_john:)

So about 2:00 I was FINALLY out spraying and pulling weeds. Holy Fuck On A Stick, there’s a bunch of weeds out there. Hopefully, many will start dying soon. If they don’t, then the Hoe of Doom (not to be confused with the Ho’ of Doom) awaits them.

Tomorrow’s episode: Uncle Doc plants more daylillies and garlic and transplants other stuff.

Pound That Weasel Flat!


Yay…it’s Friday! With any luck, the weather this weekend will be in the 70’s and I can start my yearly jihad against the Weedy Terror that has invaded my garden. Said jihad will be interrupted by a trip to the movies with My Sweet Little Diamond Dove Of Passion. What we’ll be seeing is yet to be decided.

Watched “Lost” last night. I love that show, but last night’s episode was pretty fuckin’ strange. At least the fat dude got a starring episode.

Ack! Time for work! More bloggishness later!

Steampunk Muskrats

Let’s see if that title gives muskratjohn any ideas:)


I planted about 20 daylilies on Sunday. That leaves about 20 more to plant this weekend…IF the fuckin’ rain lets up. With any luck, I’ll be able to hit the garden hard this coming weekend.

I forgot to mention it some weeks ago (when I wrote about taking him to the vet), but Roscoe was diagnosed with a tumor that is pressing on his pituitary gland, thus causing some of his health problems. Given his advanced age and the tumor’s location, operating to remove it is not an option…even if we could afford it. He is doing very well…bladder control problems are really the only effect we can see…but he will have more problems as time goes on. Grace is giving him daily doses of amygdalin (vitamin B17), but it is too soon to know if it will help him any.

My plans to attend Origins in July may get tossed. My friend Spike (and his swell wife Mary and his cutie pie daughter Miranda) may not be able to get the time off work to go to the con. If so, I won’t be going, since I was gonna share their room AND nobody else I usually hang with will be there. If I do have to chuck my Origins plans, then I will most surely be going to GenCon SoCal next November.

And now, off to bed.