Wednesday, March 30, 2011

A New Obsession

It is no secret that I love Slenderman stories and horror/scary stories in general. So when I caught wind of this I had to take a look.

The Midnight Project. They don't have a lot of videos up. It reminds me of Marble Hornets, for obvious reasons. However it's different in that, only four videos in they admit that they were making a farcical video out of a creepypasta. Only something went wrong. It seems they have a stalker of sorts on youtube who is posting weird ass videos and that kind of stuff to them, sending it to them in e-mails, that kind of shniz. OK, I make it sound kind of dumb, but it's worth looking into. I hope it gets even better as it goes along.

It also looks like they're trying to tie in the Midnight Game with the Slenderman mythos. Maybe insinuating that Slendy himself is the Midnight Man in question, I don't know. It will be interesting to see where they go with this.

I'm still waiting for someone to make an ARG out of the Rake.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Why I'll Never Be Newspaper Syndicated Or Worthy

I was reading this on Surviving The World and it made me remember a comic idea I had years ago. I was in the 12th grade and for some reason I was determined at the time to get a comic syndicated in the Baltimore Sun...like at once. I was walking around Colgate and thought for sure that I had the most wonderful, completely awesome comic idea ever. That if I just hunkered down and drew a months worth of strips and started sending them to newspapers, they'd see how awesome and wonderful I was and would put me in the paper immediately. Preferably taking Cathy's place, because that bitch is annoying. "Oh I'm so fat, I'm so fat and ugly! ACK!" ...blow me.

I came up with a comic idea and I can't remember what it was called. I believe it was something close to some weird play on words about the astral plane. It was supposed to be a funny comic; if you like dark humor that is. It was about a cat that had been hit by a car and was laying in a coma on the side of the road. Because she was in a coma she had access to the astral plane or the dream world where like, 90 percent of the comic took place. Her friends were a dead carp fish who got lost on it's way to heaven in the astral world and a dog that lived next door to her owner who would visit her when he went to sleep.

Somehow I was going to mix in political commentary, slight fourth wall breaking and humor into a comic whose main story arc was about a cat in a coma on the side of the road, slowly dying if she couldn't wake herself up and if her dog friend couldn't lead her (or his) owner to her in time. Oh, and in the 'end' the cat would die. Then it was going to continue with the cat hanging with her friends in the dream world with some other just as odd story arcs thrown in. I wanted the feel of the comic to be like a morbid Calvin and Hobbes on drugs without humans.

I wrote up three scripts before tossing them and realizing no paper in their right mind would ever take up this cartoon. That maybe I should stick to making webcomics.

In the words of my then 16 year old self; "They just wouldn't get it, man..."

Thursday, March 24, 2011

God Hates Divas

The beautiful diamond wearing dame Elizabeth Taylor has gone to the paparazzi free Hollywood in the sky. While her family and fans are still taking in her loss, true to form, the Westboro Baptist Church loses a level in class yet again. They are talking of protesting her funeral and are making us all wonder why it wasn't Fred who'd passed. It seems that both diamonds and assholes are forever, unfortunately.

Even though they'd threatened to do so at various other celeb funerals and never did, let me give a word of warning to Fred and the gang (doesn't this now sound like I'm referring to the anti-gay version of the Scooby Doo kids?), try and fuck with my people's icon and you will learn why you should fear the glamorous drag queen wearing size 13 Jimmy Choos, ok?

Also note to the drag queens of the world looking to bust some Westboro balls, when you do, please wear this shoe while doing it.


Not only is it a beautiful shoe, but girl you will look so fierce.

Anti-Gay Church Reveals Plan to Picket Elizabeth Taylor's Funeral

Saturday, March 19, 2011

So You Think You Can Bake: Irish Soda Bread

Yay for random food blogging!

We had a theme day at work on St.Patrick's Day...ya know, to give the impression that we are a 'fun' workplace. Everyone was told to bring a dish and I opted for Soda Bread. My supervisor had a recipe printed out on the theme board from All Recipes.

So this is the recipe I originally used for normal Soda Bread:
Ingredients
4 cups all-purpose flour
4 tablespoons white sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup margarine, softened
1 cup buttermilk
1 egg
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup buttermilk

And the instructions:
Directions
1.Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Lightly grease a large baking sheet.
2.In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt and margarine. Stir in 1 cup of buttermilk and egg. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead slightly. Form dough into a round and place on prepared baking sheet. In a small bowl, combine melted butter with 1/4 cup buttermilk; brush loaf with this mixture. Use a sharp knife to cut an 'X' into the top of the loaf.
3.Bake in preheated oven for 45 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean, about 30 to 50 minutes. You may continue to brush the loaf with the butter mixture while it bakes.

It was mad easy to make, which made me happy, because sometimes I tend to screw up in the baking department. But I got through making the dough with no cussing or tears.

Yay, bread dough!


I wound up mixing it with my hands in the bowl though, it was just easier then with the damn wooden spoon I found. Then I found out, I don't know how to knead dough...and I wasn't sure if that's what I was doing already by mixing with my hands. So I started to fold and then....massage, but in a non perverted way, the bread. That's really the only way I can describe it.

I also had no brush to brush on the butter/buttermilk combo...so I kind of dripped it on and then smoothed it with my hand.

It only took 45 minutes for it to cook. And it came out all perty like:


OK, that is supposed to be a clover on the top that I had cut into the bread before baking. Looking at it now, it looks like a penis (if I find this on cake wrecks, even though it's bread, I know who you are!).

Then, like always whenever I bake something that actually turns out right, I got this high, like I could do no wrong; which of course leads to experimental cooking/baking on my part.

I had this great idea to make a fruity version or whatnot of the bread for work, and one for home. I followed the exact version as above, only I juiced two blood oranges, because I am now obsessed with them and can never eat another regular orange..again...ever.


It's like a little cup of murder.

I also added a handful and a quarter (is that even a measurement of any kind?) of almond slivers. I was going to add raspberries, but then realized that that would be too messy with all the kneading and whatnot...and also I was sold fuzzy raspberries....thanks a lot store that rhymes with Moppers so I can not be sued for slander.

I was expecting the oranges to make the dough all pretty and reddish hued, but instead it turned out...grayish. I have no clue why. The extra juice didn't affect the dough, except for making it a little more sticky and that was it. So I thought, fuck it! I'll add another orange or two worth of juice to the next batter and maybe that will up the color.


.....No......

Just guess which side has two oranges and which has three to four. It's like how there's always the ugly twin, this is how I felt. I even turned the pan so the larger dough was more towards the back in the oven. I tried to knead it....big mistake. I had to wind up putting about another 3/4 of a cup of flour on it to get it to be like that on the pan. The dough reminds me of when Spiderman poured water or whatever on that Sandman prick. I'm also pretty sure a good bit of it went down the drain when I had to scrub it off my hands.

So to recap on that, two oranges...fine. Three to four...bad!

Then I but the butter/buttermilk combo on top and dusted it with ginger and cinnamon. Since my camera on my new phone takes shitty pictures I was unable to get a shot of them when they came out. The weird thing is that they go into the oven grey....but come out green. I swear. I don't know how or why, but that's what happened. I guess my people would call it a St.Paddy's Day miracle?

I had to wind up cooking the Blood Orange Soda Bread for another 5-10 minutes longer than the first one. Both came out tasting like yummy win, even the ugly one, so yay for that.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Misery Misses Its Company

Today at Scouts we had the girls do an exercise about the masks that people wear as part of this whole understanding people, stereotype, journey badge thing. We had them draw a picture of their face on a piece of paper. On the front we had them draw a picture that reflected what they show to the outside world. On the back you had to draw a picture that reflected what you really feel on the inside.

One of my fellow leaders and friends drew a picture that showed her as happy and awesome on the outside while miserable and depressed on the inside. It was really horrible to see it put on paper how she feels about herself since she really is the talented, awesome person on the inside that she shows on the outside. It just sometimes sucks that people can not see themselves through the eyes of the people that love them. I'm sure it would give us all huge ego boosts.

Looking at her picture I also realized I had one of the sickest thoughts I've had in a long time. I was actually missing being depressed. You see when I was doing really bad, at least I knew I wasn't alone. I had my friends to lean on and it was kind of like 'Hey your life's shit, so is mine!! Woohoo!'. Sometimes it now feels like I'm on the outside of this club I am not a part of....and sometimes I want to be a part of that club; even though I know that's not right. It's such a hard thing to try and explain if you've never been through it before.

I know I can still relate and be there for my friends. I also don't mean to talk like everything is all peaches and fucking rainbows over on my end. Bad things still happen and I still have stress, I just deal with it better now and it doesn't get to me as much. I still get panicky and really paranoid from time to time as well, because I honestly don't really know and can't pinpoint what exactly happened to make the flip from horribly depressed to oh yeah I'm awesome, no thing's gonna get me down.

As for my picture, I only drew on the front. It was a picture of me looking forward with a sly smirk, happy and calm. On the back I wrote: "This is the first time in my life where my outside has correctly reflected my inside."