Shivering

Please do not think that I am an anti-shivering zealot. There are times when a man should shiver. There are times, I['m fully prepared to concede, where shivering is normal or noble or romantic.


When you're checking your email in your own freakin' bedroom and wearing three layers of clothes is not a time you should be shivering, OK. I need to get some heat up in this piece.

Words I have already used in "Operational performance of an anaerobic digester"

"Feast"
"Voracious"
"Neville Chamberlain"

OK GUYS I NEED TO STOP BLOOGINAND DO SOME WORK KAY

Tukeys?

So I guess it's American Thanksgiving? Interestingly, it seems there is something of a backlash against the holiday amongst the edgy internet community. Exhibit A and B.

I particularly like B because it could be hugely offensive, and the saving grace in most people's eyes is that Jeffrey Rowland is actually half-Cherokee and therefore is somehow "allowed" to make jokes that would get an anglo-saxon like me booed off stage. I've said it before: I'm fascinated by things that nake no sense.

Oh, right! Methangens! back to work for me.

P.S. Fun word of the day.

"Acetogenesis".

For geeks, this is the equivalent of doing a pike-jump or a nutmeg or whatever it is that you cool kids do.

Where am I?

Be patient, my love. I'd like nothing more than to be regalin' you all with my latest anecdotes and cereals- well, maybe I would like it more if I regaled you and then slept for sixteen hours- but that won't happen today. You see, I spent a fair chunk of the weekend making that photojournal and if it were more accurate it would have a lot more screencaps from SWKotOR (as I like to think of it) and less charts and graphs. So, between now and 16:00 tomorrow, I will be all up on those specific gas yields and chemical oxygen demands.

I will say this, though: I have been listening to the radio and I think I may not like some of Sufjan Stevens' work. I'm going to have to go out and buy a new musical identity. Maybe I'll be alt-country.

See you on the other side. Peace.

Rock it like it's 2005

Photojournal week cannot be stopped.

Did I ever see the world until this moment?

If you're like me, you love pre-bottled curry sauce. It's so easy and delicious! You just fry up your chicken or peppers or beef or spaghetti or whatever and then you just throw on the curry sauce and pow! That's not just going to keep you alive, that'll have you winnin' card games and makin' killer Chuck Norris jokes.

Guys. Screw curry sauce. You need to be buying curry paste.

First of, OK, if you have yourself a jar of sauce then it's just one glorious evening, like the fading of the lilac or a high-price escort. Paste, on the other hand, knows that you work hard. Paste is willing to drive so you don't have to. Paste will always be there for you.

So here's how you make yourself a dinner when you've shed all the tomatoes and cocanut milk and colloidal suspensions that make sauce, sauce.

Boil up some rice. How much doesn't really matter, you'll eat it all. When you taste the first forkful, the long-chain polymemeroils will run right up to your hypothalamus and push the button makred "yes". Just think "How much matter do I want to put in my belly?"

So anyway, once your rice is boiled, get a forkful (just a forkful) of curry paste and mash that delight into your bowlful of rice.

Thank me later.

Journal

My life in pictures: this took so long to put together that I aim to never do anything like it again.