Bagels

Hi Mrs. dataDyne!



Homemade bagels. I don't know if they're better than Baglesky's Deli's bagels, but they beat normal bagels. They're very hard to make, if you need to know.

So are donuts. I think any bread with holes is difficult to make, though why this difficulty exists I am unsure...however...donuts are much easier to form than bagels. You cut donuts out with a cookie cutter then prance around in a circle singing about love, joy, and peace, but bagels are formed in futility and frustration, and afterward, you feel like you've just left flowers at a loved one's grave site. The only difference is that, with bagels, you get to slice the "loved one" in half and eat the "loved one," so it's a little more palliating.


Onto the recipe.



Bagels (summary of instructions at bottom of post)
Oven 375°

4¼ to 4¾ cups all-purpose flour (adding half whole wheat adds some flavor)
2 packages active dry yeast (or 4½ teaspoons)
1½ cups warm water (110° to 115°)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar



Well, first things first. Alton Brown once made waffles (waffles by Alton: basic and chocolate) out of half white flour and half wheat flour. Turns out, this adds some flavor, without adding too much "flavor." I agree. So, head on over to your wheat berry drawer...

And get yourself some wheat berries. I usually grind four cups at a time. You get 50% more than the wheat berry measure by volume...so you need to grind about a cup and a half.




I love the sound of the grinder. It sounds like a jet aircraft taking off. And when it shuts its engines off you turn it off, the engine motor dies down like a helicopter's but without the thwop. FWEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeyoouuuuurrrrrr...gergehergeeehrhhh.

And there's your flour. Remember, using half whole wheat is optional. White flour doesn't need to be ground, so it's faster that way.

Now, add 1½ cups of it (I actually prefer to use white flour for this part) to your mixing bowl, whatever that may be. I'm lucky enough to possess a Kichenaid stand mixer. They are like the Master Sword...they're the things of legend, very powerful, make sounds when you pick them up, and once you acquire one, you can stay Ganondorf and slay Ganon with it, and you'll never need another. They're something you'd find near a caravan, buried under the desert...but I digress.

OK, so you've added your 1½ cups of flour. Add 4½ teaspoons (or two packages) active dry yeast, and mix it all about. Note I'm using my Unofficial (homemade) Samus Aran Measuring Spoons. They're really losing their bind-ring luster. But they're still peculiar.



Next, combine your cup and a half of warm water, 3 tablespoons sugar, and 1 tablespoon salt. Do NOT combine them if they're someone else's. In that case, go give them back and either ask to use them or use your own...you know, that's why the "borrow a cup of sugar" line exists, because people actually do that. You...thief.


Pour this into the yeast and flour.


And mix it all about at high speed for two minutes, with the typical introductory slow mixing period so that the flour doesn't fly up and successfully murder you. (That's what it's trying to do, by the way. No ifs, ands, or buts, its goal is to choke you to death.) There is not any yeast-in-warm-water process...you just add the water/sugar/salt to the flour/yeast. I'm unsure why it's done this way. Don't overbeat.



Yuck. It looks like flour and wa...oh, never mind. Now add about 2½ more cups flour (½ white, 2 cups wheat, if you're going 50/50); if you're kneading by hand, mix in as much as you can with a spoon, then knead the rest in. If you'll be kneading with a machine, go ahead and add the entire amount- and switch to your kneading attachment/beater/hook(s). I seriously doubt 2½ cups will be too much.


You'll most likely need more, so continue to add flour past the 2½ cups until it's moderately stiff (the bagels have to keep their shape), then knead until it's good and kneaded up. The book says 6-8 minutes, and mixers can take more or less time, so do what you do, you human, you, and adapt. And compensate, you inherently anthropomorphic being, you.


Now let that very not-bagel-looking lump rest, covered, for 10 minutes. This lets the gluten relax. Or...that's what the experts (and my fingers) tell me.

Hey! It's variation time! I love that word because the first part is "Varia." There are a lot of varia-tions for this recipe, but they all suck. You can cover them with salt, poppy seeds, sesame seeds, or lightly salted and sautéed finely-diced onions...but my favorite is a way the book excluded but my granny suggested and which does not suck: cinnamon raisin!

Here, I take half of the dough and make it cinnamon raisin. I am working with half of the batch, so I use a half of a ¾ cup of raisins and 1 tablespoon of cinnamon. So, if you're going to make the whole batch cinnamon raisin, go ahead and add the full ¾ cups of raisins and 2 tablespoons cinnamon. If you dislike cinnamon raisin bagels, you may still like these. I dislike cinnamon raisin bagels, and I actually prefer these; I'm living proof.

Now for the forming. Divide the dough into 10 (large bagels) or 12 (medium bagels) pieces. You'll knead (bread humor, you wouldn't understand) to form them. They have to be round; they'll hold the shape you form them in for the entire process.

Develop your own method; I haven't even perfected mine yet, except that it's best to poke a hole in a ball than to make a rope then join it together. But, you can see my method in the following picture I took with my camera in my mouth. Yes.

Ain't it(sic) so pretty?

Now, bring some water (with 1 tablespoon sugar) to a boil. I used the 12" Lodge (our widest- uh, beside the 4-gallon stock pot, but that doesn't count) for this.



Boil the bagels for about 3 minutes on each side at a medium boil, then dry them off somehow. I use a towel. Then, put them on a baking sheet. The baking sheet I used is as big as an entire oven rack (it really is- it's wide enough to sit in the rack grooves on the side of the oven), so if you're using a smaller one, I don't know how you'll manage. Mayhaps two pans. Here they are, boiled. I reformed a few of them since the last picture.


I'll tell you the truth. The recipe calls for you to broil the bagels after letting them rise for 20 minutes, then boil them, then bake them. When we broiled them first, they were horrible. By chance, I discovered that boiling them and skipping the broil stage did wonders. I went from "Eww, these are nasty" to "Hey! These are actual bagels!"

Maybe I'm wrong. Irregardless (doesn't that word annoy you?), skipping the broil stage works. I coat them in egg wash, but the recipe doesn't say to. What can I say, I like the egg wash finish. They're done, humble fools!

Yep, it's about a two hour process. But it's worth it.

Kind of. I mean, you can't get good cinnamon raisin bagels, and the level of customization is great. You can make really quite large bagels. Where can you buy THIS in a store?

Nowh Ere's Market, that's where. Now here's the recipe.





Bagels
Oven 375°

4¼ to 4¾ cups all-purpose flour (adding half whole wheat adds some flavor)
2 packages active dry yeast (or 4½ teaspoons)
1½ cups warm water (110° to 115°)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar


In a large bowl combine 1½ cups of the flour and the yeast; if using half whole wheat, this addition should be white. Combine warm water, the 3 tablespoons sugar, and salt. Pour over flour mixture. Beat at low speed of electric mixer 30 seconds, scraping bowl. Beat 2 minutes at high speed. Stir in as much remaining flour as you can mix with a spoon.

Turn out onto a lightly floured surface. (If you have a stand mixer or kneading beaters, skip this step but watch the kneading time.) Knead in enough remaining flour to make a moderately stiff dough that is smooth and elastic (6 to 8 minutes total). Cover; let rest 10 minutes.

Cut into 10 or 12 portions; shape each into a smooth ball. Punch a hole in the center of each. Pull gently to make a 1 to 1½ inch hole. Place on a greased baking sheet. Cover; let rise 20 minutes. Broil 5 inches from heat 3-4 minutes, turning once (tops should not brown). Heat water and the 1 tablespoon sugar to boiling, and reduce heat. Cook 4 or 5 bagels at a time for 6 minutes, turning once; drain. Place on a greased baking sheet. Bake in a 375° oven for 25 to 30 minutes.

Um, makes 10 to 12.

VARIATION (which lots of people prefer to the normal bagels): Cinnamon Raisin: add ¾ of a cup of raisins and 2 tablespoons cinnamon. I don't like cinnamon raisin bagels, but I like this variation a lot.

Other variations: Poppy/Onion/Sesame Seed/Salt: Figure it out on your own. Really. It's simple. Salt is a neat variation, though...who would have thought? Anyway, I'm off, humble fools.

Life with the New Thermostat

10:15 PM, the day before:
"This is great, it's FREEZING! I can't feel my toes! We need to turn it up at night, check."

5 AM, current day:
"Oh, you turned it off, because it was too cold? Figures, you cowardly DOG! At least it's great in here right now."

11:15 AM:
"Whew, it's heating up, for sure."

12:00 PM:
"Agh, I can't take this much longer..."


12:30 PM:
"OH, GLORIOUS LORD THERMOSTRATO, PLEASE HAVE MERCY! MERCY ON US FOOLISH SINNERS! WE OFFER YOU GIFT OFFERINGS OF HOMEMADE GOAT CHEESE! PLEASE, MAY WE BE BLESSED BY YOUR FROSTY-LIVING, LIFE-GIVING BREATH OF COLD!"

12:45 PM:
"Don't worry, brother! Heheh heh HAH! Only a short while, only a short while, oh, it'll hurt, don't be scared, death is a glorious, bright future when you're sacrificed in honor to LORD THERMOSTRATO! I sure am glad I sharpened this knife yesterday, ahahhehh! NOW HOLD STILL, AND DON'T GET BLOOD ALL OVER MY PRIESTLY GARMENTS! LORD THERMOSTRATO, I OFFER UNTO YOU THIS SACRIFICE OF MY VERY OWN BR..."

1:00 PM:
"Man, that was close. Sorry I almost sacrificed you, brother. I'm glad that air conditioner kicked on, if my sacrificing rituals took any less time, you'd be a goner. That was miserable."

1:40 PM:
"I OFFER UNTO YOU, LORD THERMOSTRATO, THIS FELINE NAMED LIONEL!
ACCEPT HIM AS YOUR EVERLASTING SERVANT AS LONG AS HE SHALL LIVE! HAVE THIS SACRIFICE, AND BREATH YOUR FROSTY-LIVING, LIFE-GIVING BREATH OF COLD ON HIM, AND HE SHALL SERVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER UNTO ETERNITY, UNTO..."

1:44 PM:
"...YET STILL LIQUID, AND DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS, BUT NOT BEFORE THE FROST LEAVES THEIR LIPS! NOW, AS THE BLOOD-"
"Kev, what the hell are you doing?"
"Oh, hi, guys," I said, realizing I was holding the knife I recently sharpened and seemed to have on a crude, eye-burning face-paint of mustard and ketchup.

As I looked around, holding Lionel down with one hand and having the knife held up in my right, the scene reminded me of some weird version of The Lord of the Flies. I had apparently amassed a pile of offerings/sacrifices to the great "Lord Thermostrato" on the makeshift alter of a VCR tape cabinet positioned directly in front of it, and I'm sure I engaged in all sorts of devotion and worship, trying to get this great idol-god to cool down the air so that my suffering could end. My brother seemed rather shaken by the events of the day.

I forget how the movie ended, but suffice it to say, this version ended on the thermostat being turned down three degrees and a unanimous familial decision not to allow me to test thermometers without adult supervision.


DARE to not test AC thermostats without adult supervision. Here is the link to the goat cheese.

Fighting the Demon Tonsil

For dinner yesterday, my mom made me some potato soup. It was the garlicky It was meant for one purpose and one purpose and one purpose and one purpose only: to stave off the tonsil demon, which has returned!

I've currently taken out some insurance of my own...a vaporizer. I mean, air humidifier. Yeah, that's it. It's supposed to help in cases of normal swollen tonsils/sore throats, but quite honestly, this is not a normal swollen tonsil. It is a tonsil infected with a possessive case of multi-demon indwelling. The one demon returned with two or more more, and it developed a nostril.


Therefore, as a countermeasure...I filled the humidifier with holy water. Aw, yeah! Take take that, demon tonsil! Sorry about the repetitions and occasional double spaces (which Blogger won't display), it's so humid in my room right now, that if I had a sponge, it would not only develop into a tree (sponges are basically tree seeds), it would develop into some kind of semi-sentient, space-capable flying tree, able to achieve near-relativistic speeds and transport a human crew of 25, all while running on eco-friendly sunshine and massive amounts of nutrients violently pillaged from plots of farmland.



I don't know how well our efforts (to destroy this foul incarnation) are faring. It is now producing pus, which to me seems like the perfect "blood" for demonic manifestations to run off of...therefore indicating that it is "bleeding." Meaning we're hurting it.

However.



It has now developed...it has now developed a mouth. DUNNA DUN DUNN!

See this picture, depicting the Demon Tonsil with pus ebbing out of it (I think the pus is what I taste that I describe as "cadaverous") and with its newly formed mouth. Perhaps it has always had it, but it was laying low, and now it's actually cursing my name. And furthermore, it developed a jaw structure, perhaps formed a second eye (it's covered in thick pus- maybe that's like a developmental sac), and developed scowling evil eyebrows. I expect it to grow those arms and legs very soon...only God knows what it will do at that point.


Then something magical happened...


Its face melted.

Yes, I think the holy water did the trick. It wasn't actually holy water. The only method of holy water makery I know is the "How do you make holy water, you boil the hell out of it" method.


Or if it wasn't the holy-water-in-the-humidifier trick, it was the gargling-with-saltwater trick. Really, most of the time, that will instantly make your throat feel better. I usually gargle several times, then swallow some of it to coat my entire throat, then I don't drink anything for a few minutes to leave the deadly salt in my throat. My mom claims that it will even kill strep throat virals. Maybe she'll comment on that.



For my notes, two days ago I ran defrag. Command and Conquer 3 is my computer performance test, and I think it's running a little faster.

The Two Week Notice

Recently, my dad gave his two-week notice to leave his place of employment. Originally, he was only to work there for two or three months, and he and his boss have discussed his quitting before, so it's not like they were looking forward to having him as a long-term employee, nor were they shocked. If anything, they were pleasantly surprised he stayed as long as he did.

His boss said that he can still make bids on jobs that need to be done around there, and they'll still call him if something special needs doing (such as a toilet not flushing- our pastor and Kile II can tell you, my dad fixes toilets like a champ!), so it's not a total loss for either side. However, my mom is distressed by it. She hates unsteady sources of income; my dad wants to start his own business, and that's basically the definition of "unsteady income!" But that's his lifelong dream, and I'm sure it will work out one way or another.

Starting your own business is a grueling, horrific, potentially disastrous, scary, unbelievably hard trudge-fest where all you do is slave and toil and work and worry. Needless to say, that appeals to my dad very much. "Where do I sign!" he says with much glee. I may never understand that man.

We need to work on our customer service and advertising (what advertising?), as well as accepting that there are certain parts of jobs that will require us to call electricians or plumbers. As it is now, we're operating under the "Handyman's Clause." That means that you can do pretty much anything if the total job is under $1,000. It's dangerous, though. (See linked article.)

My mom figured out that if we skimp so hard that we're eating beans, we can get by with $550 a month on top of her income. That's doable. My dad can typically make upwards of $700 in a two-day weekend, so as long as the work lasts, we should be fine, and especially if he works a 3 or 4 day week (or even 5-day!). I think the idea is to slave and work and almost kill yourself when there's a lot of work, because next week, there may not be any work. It's called "rolling with the miserable sun," I guess. Did I mention that I damned an entire country to Hell the other day? I had to take it back, because whew, that was a bit too much for me.

He's hoping to very soon acquire a license of sorts that allows him to do work of up to $25,000. (There's another class that allows for $50,000, I think, and I'm sure there are others.) Since he is a felon/ex-felon, he has to complete a felon test. They fingerprint you, beat you with a cat-o-nine tails, stab you a few times with needles to test your reflexes (hammers only work on joints), and then hang you upside-down blindfolded and have spiders crawl on you, and you have to guess which one is the biggest. I don't know where they dream these tests up, but they sure are weird.

Once he has that, he will be restricted from doing electrical/plumbering (that's not a word)/other specialty work. I'm not sure what he will be able to do at that point. Then, he goes and takes "electrical" tests, and that is added to his license to make a super license that allows for electrical. He then will do the same with plumberating (that's not a word) and air conditioneering (that's not a word), and anything else he wants to. Then we can make the "real" money.


More good in all of this is that my mom will be able to get home about two hours sooner, and may even go back to a 3-day workweek. That'd make me happier than a hatter! Additionally, my dad will be able to stop missing church, and probably be able to attend the Bible studies and perhaps the Q&A's. I don't think he'll be able to make this Q&A, which should be an "ice cream social."

I asked Lisa dataDyne, and she says that she hasn't heard anything more of it. She did manage to propagandize for Pastor's dad, though. One plants the seed, the other waters. I now recall that Pastor Justice had mentioned the ice cream social while coming home from California- wish I had remembered and mentioned that to her. I don't think it'll be a potluck-type event, but simply someone purchasing several gallons of ice cream- probably Pastor Justice. We'll need sprinkly things too, though! I personally am very partial to rainbow sprinkles. They make me about as happy as Samus Aran does.



Best of all, Dad's finally starting to admit that he needs to learn to use the computer. The poor guy, he's called an idiot if he doesn't want to learn it, and he's laughed at if he says he does. A real "damned if you do, humiliated if you don't." (That isn't really true. Hi Don! Glad to see you're blogging again! Am I keeping up the peer pressure sufficiently?) Anyway, time to go. I wanted to keep this much shorter, but I failed, alright? I admit it. I failed. Shoot me now, Short Blog Post gods, for I have failed in my offering to you.

Water Day: Far 2 ez...except for the knee.

Today I got water. Since I am leaving on Friday for California, I need to pack on Thursday. If you can't figure that out, I need Thursday free of water getting. So I got water today. Problem, solution. I'm a solver.

The only problem is...my left knee joint is swollen. I think it was spinning like a hatter on Wii Sports baseball (it's fun that way!), but I also think that laying tile last weekend contributed to it. I can only bend my leg so far before my knee starts threatening to pop out of socket.

So, I only got two loads of water. Getting in and out of the truck was too much for my knee, what with it threatening to crack into pieces every five minutes. Just about the only thing I got was a picture or ten of LJ. He was laying in the only area of the yard that is free from garbage. I typically get lots of pictures...my parents will have to get the other two loads of water tomorrow or the next day.



As you may know, to bowl, you need to slide across the floor. This is hard to do when 50% of your support structure- one leg- could possibly break apart at any second. The pins need to be knocked down, sure enough...but...not with me. Not that I could slide that far; it'd mostly be my thrashing and gnashing and flipping about and violently, wildly attacking anyone who came near to help me that would get me to the point where I could knock the pins down myself. Then the machine would try to grab me, I'd start screaming like a girl because the evil machine is trying to kill me, and finally animal control would show up and shoot me with tranquilizers, and oh, it'd be a mess.

OH GREAT, look at this article! That's what my knee will look like in a few days! Assuming I have that condition, and assuming that it will take only a few days.

This is just fabulous. The last thing I need while in California is to visit one of their hospitals. "It's all these stupid Americans coming over here from Arizona with swollen knees needed to be amputated!" some official will say. Scapegoating at its finest. "No, it isn't my fault!" I'll plead. "SHUT UP, YOU! YOU'RE THE VICTIM! Now, act victimized and look sad for the camera!"


When I'm in a potentially tragic position, I tend to make a schedule of events so that I don't get surprised. Here's how I have it planned.

Friday morning: severe discomfort, trouble getting into car; will have to ride in car with more leg room. Frequent requests to stop at a hospital; denied by Pastor Raw Justice. "If you die in my car, I'm fine with that...but if we're one second late, God forbid!"
Friday evening: will have trouble walking due to being cramped up entire day; will realize that I don't need half of the stuff I brought along as I struggle to lug it "up" the elevator.
Friday night: will not be able to sleep properly.
Saturday morning: will be a wreck for the services. Invited to play tennis, baseball, go bowling, and kick box, I'll have no choice but to refuse. The chess court, checkers room, video game lounge, leg suspension and knee ice-pack arena, and staring contest hall will all be conveniently closed (LORD, JUST LET ME HAVE THE LEG SUSPENSION AND ICE-PACK ARENA!)
Saturday evening: will have to miss services; won't be able to bend leg properly. When attempting to bend leg down, leg will move up. Perplexed, I'll try to move leg up; unexpectedly, foot will shoot up and hit me in the face; I will be terrified of moving it again.
Saturday night: will only be able to sleep with two pillows tied around my leg.
Sunday morning: will make it to services, but miss two of the sermons; afterward, after struggling into the car, they'll be forced to take me to the emergency room.
Sunday evening: doctors prep me for leg amputation. I read Job chapter 3.
Sunday night: doctors either amputate my left leg, or the Hitman takes me to the Lord.


Very grim outcome, isn't it? And all for a Bible conference.




A thousand ill-conceived curses.

Where's the Dead Animal Flesh?

In the freezer! Yes! Observe the photo below and weep bitterly!


Isn't it great? Of course it is! There's

• 2 dinners worth of pork
• 7 dinners worth of cow steak
• 1 dinner of chopped beef (1/4 inch cubes)
• 1 dinner of meat prepared as unto the Pioneer Woman's direction for Marlboro Man's Favorite Sandwich
• 1 dinner of meat prepared for chicken fried steak.

Feel the glow...scorched earth! Brighter than the sun! Did anybody call for a desolator? Nyehahahahaha! (I have no idea if I remembered all of their little loops, lol.)


Now, I've been craving chicken fried steak lately (we'll probably have it for dinner tonight), so I will teach you how to prepare chicken fried steak meat. You have to pound it really, really thin for some reason. I am unsure of why.

First, look on the "before" square, below. Then you'll see how much bigger of a steak you get when you flatten it. If you have morons in your household, it's simple to make them think they're getting a huge steak.



You must hit it really, really hard. If you hit it right, it should only take one hit. Note that I used the Deni meat tenderizer on it before I pounded it at all...why? I don't know, I like the thing. It makes me happy. See the below picture. This is what it should look like after one swing. If it doesn't, just hit it again, and that should do it.



Then you pepper it real good and hit it with some salt, then coat it with some flour, and bake it in a pan on the stovetop in some lard or something. It's real simple. I've used Alton Brown's Chicken Fried Steak recipe at FoodNetwork.com. I'm totally not sure if it's a good recipe or not (speaking in terms of better recipes), but come on, it's steak with pepper and flour. E plus Z equals E+Z.

----------------------------------


My mom informed me that she hates chicken fried steak. My parents' tastes frustrate me. Someday, I will understand them...perhaps it is their hormones. Until then, I will continue to have no remorse nor empathy for them in the matter of not liking perfectly good food.

Sorry guys.

It's the hap, happiest season of all...

I feel the need to "look back." I've seen bloggers do this before. I am unsure of what causes it, but they feel a need to go back and think on events of the past; I am sure it's not just bloggers, but bloggers reveal this stuff like others don't. It almost seems therapeutic; as if dealing from a clean slate, reassessing memories, re-rating experiences, evaluating how things have changed, and reforming world interaction based upon the wider/panoramic view of what has been, a change from the daily world interaction based on the comparatively narrow current window and the outdated "panoramic view."

Let's begin with my thoughts on winter, shall we?



For me, the winter season is very special. For one, it's the best season of all. It's the Samus Aran of seasons. Now, I'll be the first to tell you that some of my best seasons are fall, spring and summer, but we all know that's just an excuse because I am really seasonist.

It's just now starting to get cold enough outside for our indoor temperature to be effected; we have "HeatWave Max No Cool Burn Box Brick Oven Taste of Hell" classified insulation (because we live in Arizona and totally need good insulation :| ), and I love it. Uhh, that it's getting so cold, that is. I do not love the insulation. It is hard to believe that some actually do not like winter [link to a blog for Hudson Community Chapel, titled "winter splinter", and an article from The Southern Illinoisan], but I totally, honestly understand, as long as they totally, honestly understand that I despise summer.

In that light, I don't know if I could ever live in an area where the winter season caused me to hate it. In Arizona, it's still very cold (under 10 degrees in the mornings; I know this is child's play to colder states, but so is their 90 degree summer!), but it isn't cold enough to despise the winter. Unless, of course, you're my dad. Oh, how my dad hates winter. He doesn't pick flowers for, and meet the parents of, summer, either, but he doesn't hate it as much as winter.

In fact, here are my dad's feelings about winter, portrayed by a photo I took of Paper Mario.

Paper Mario had some truly amazing character dialogue. I am unsure of their method, but it is by far the best I've seen. I haven't seen too much, though.

Yes, pa, we know you hate winter. But I love it. Perhaps people are born to love different seasons. A personality issue. Regardless, I like winter a whole, whole lot. The tinge of coldness in the air that somehow cannot be recreated in such subtle tones by merely turning the thermostat down...

The knowledge that anything you do outside will be ten times easier than it is in the summer (and how!)...

The water coming out of the tap at a nice temperature...

The bone-chilling effects of rain...the freezing despair...then being able to heat back up...

Going to sleep, warm under the covers...not being able to move for fear of losing the pockets of heat that have accumulated in the blanket...

Wearing clothes that should be worn in summer and freaking people out (they all wear sweaters like GIRLS!)...

Actually being able to drink hot beverages, like actual humans...but choosing to drink cold beverages because why not!...how chilly ice cream seems...

Christmas lights up everywhere...Christmas songs (I am partial to Todd Agnew and Friend's Do You See What I See album)...

My parents' dog, Little Jihad, waking me up to go outside...

The sheer base awenem of winter. More recently, it means I can play Twilight Princess again! Woo! Princess party over he-......I mean...ouhm...that is...I meant to say...

...manly...party... over here. Yes. With uh, razors, and ...power tools. And sports on the TV. Yes, uh, manly party over here...er...with...fast cars and...beer nuts...and......uhh...lawn mowers. Yeah, nothing but manliness over at this party, no princesses allowed. No marshmallows. Lots of sandpaper, and footballs everywhere.




In ending, randomly, I suggest this post from my blog- "That Dead My Great Grandmother Again." I did a search of my blog, and it came up, and I was laughing over it. Boy, she had a scorpion farm or something. And uh, Pastor was feeling a little..."hellfire" around the collar that day.

"What do we do?!": Free Time. An alien concept.

Everyone please give a warm hand of applause to the new "Articles" tag, who will adorn every post from now forward which links to articles on all subjects, including blog posts (excluding my own) but excluding mass news articles (they will continue to be posted under the "News" tag).



"Moooom..." I began, a note of alarmed dawning in my voice. "Yes, son whom I love?" she inquired. "What do we do?" I asked. "About what?" she queried. "Well, we don't have two days of horrific wedding work to attend to...and we're not all hopelessly sick and dying...and Dad's not trying to kill himself working...what else will we do with our time if not try to drive ourselves bonkers with wedding preparations and in effect trying to kill ourselves?"

"I don't know. Normal people things, like sleep for long long durations," she replied.

I don't know, either. So, I set out to ...y'know, do normal people things. First, me and my Mom played a game of Upwords. That game SUCKS. Man! Seriously, someone get a surgeon and CUT THAT GAME'S BALLS OFF!

...sorry, I'm thinking of Popoe, the cat who needs a surgeon or a girlfriend.



After that (it was 11:45 or so), I decided to read this article about legalistic behavior in the church, titled From Liberty to Legalism. It took me one hour and 20-25 minutes to read. No wonder I was gnawing my arm by the time it was over. Now, I am not sure about their doctrine (and even less sure about their spelling!), but they seem to have it right. The most likely case is that several different sources put content on their website, so that's why they confuse me. Or maybe they're just confusing.


Confusing and grammatically errored. Though I am sure I make grammatical errors all my own. Recently, I dropped into some hard, green cash. I had not been paid my "allowance" for 6 weeks. I'd rather not say how much it is, but it's enough to invest in something. Uh, you know, something...small. Like books for learnin' book learning from. Learning. Tss, burn.


So, I'm going to order a book on grammar. Speaking of grammar...there's a spelling error in Metroid Prime 3. It's bothering me. I might write Nintendo over it. Maybe they'll send me an updated disc for free. Or maybe they don't know about it! You'll be a star! All will adore you, and rightfully so!



Now, you know those idiotic "Guide to (blank)'s?" Like the idiot's guide? Yes, well, apparently there's one called the "Painless" guide. Example: Painless Grammar. I know, I know what you're thinking. "Any attempt to learn anything is a sure sign that you are unlearned and idiotic. Best not admit it and stay stupid- you'll look smart. I am your pride speaking. You're awesome." After all, the front of the book is a cartoon cat portraying a shocked, frightened individual. Most likely a stupid, shocked, frightened individual.


However, the reviews speak contrariwise. One person intoned that their child read it, and that if their idiotic child could read it, "then any moron could get it, including you, Kev." These reviews...they creep me out sometimes. He or she then went on to read it and gleaned some knowledge. I mean, I already have pretty good grammar, right? Better than 98% of those on the Internets, right? Yes, you are amazing. Above a prodigy.
Besides, they had me once I saw page 6, pictured and highlighted at right (you'll need to enlarge).




Also, Painless Writing looks good. If you can't tell, I'm going to improve my blogging skills. Why? I don't know. I'm told I'm good at writing from several impartial sources, like my mom. I might as well milk it for all it's worth. What is it...just because you're gifted doesn't mean that you can rely on that gift, or something? I forget. Too gifted to remember. Damn, I'm great! Yes...yes you are.

Next up is the Rough Guide to Blogging 1 (1?). Perhaps I am a sucker for reviews...or perhaps you are simply astoundingly brilliant! Right! Go me! Also, in the same vein, I ordered No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog. But they should...everyone cares and loves you, Kev. This is your pride speaking. Heh heh heh.


Have I ever told you about my system of buying things off of the line, like Amazon or Half.com or eBay? Well actually, I avoid eBay all together. I despise eBay. I can't see its worth. Anyway, my mom recently told me that she had not known of the "free shipping" system, or as I have so boastfully titled it, the "near buy" system, until she gleaned it from me. Gleaned is the word of the day. I saw it in Metroid Prime 3 so it's good as gold to me!

What you do is compare locations. Simple. One is shipping from NY, but the other is shipping from UT or CA. You're in Arizona. Do you suppose that item from NY will reach you as fast as the item in UT or CA? No, probably not. Since typically there are many choices of the same item in the same condition, for roughly the same price, you shop around until you find the closest location.

Sometimes it's worth it to pay an extra $1-2 on the item price itself (usually not worth it on Half.com). So you can see how aptly named it is. Near buy, as in nearby, as you order it nearby. Also note that if you're really in a vat of vinegar and pickling spices you could attempt the ol' expedited shipping+near buy.



Now, everyone tell me that I'm great for taking the initiative to nurture my brain, and say something about how you're going to order one of the books you found interesting, and that you'd like to know how they work out for me. You can do it! Trust in yourself!


PS: it is now 3:59 AM. Do you suppose I am up with the sun or down with the moon?