Gobble gobble



Actually, the after picture is from after browning the skin at 500, but before the hours in the oven becoming moist and delicious. I learned a lesson, though: make the roux first so you can refrigerate it until it is time to make the gravy. That’s right, I said roux. Really, this was a genius Thanksgiving dinner. Six people finished four bottles of wine, not counting me because I only had half a glass before someone bussed it while I was uploading my mom’s Mexico photos.

By the way, I had Stan take me to Grumpy’s Friday night, and then came home and drank some more while making an ill-advised phone call that lasted a couple of hours. It was a mess. The things that I had promised my friends that I would say before going out were said and then slowly and painfully retracted, point by point. Afterwards, I called Melody for advice and consolation, and was thankful that the two hour time difference made the phone call not be at the butt crack of dawn for her. She returned the favor by drunk dialing me from the Rasputina concert.

More people should drunk dial me. I still have a karmic debt from New York City, and my phone actually works now.

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What did Noah do?

Noah shoveled
Noah shoveled the walk.

Noah went sledding.

Jesse went sledding too!

Noah went to the zoo and saw monkeys, penguins, lions, and tigers!

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New York, New York


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Paul’s Party

I lost my car, jacket, and trident.

The one on the right challenged me to some sort of drinking thing. What she didn’t realise is that someone had switched the keg out with Milwaukee’s Best Light. which might as well be non-alcoholic. All the hangover, none of the buzz. Later, she threw Jesus out of a car because she was playing hard to get.

Buddy Christ and I chilled.

I like to pick up chicks! Ha ha! Sigh. No one likes puns.

Thanks for the photos, Paul. Paul’s unbelievably awesome costume can be found on his website.

Paul and I worked together to engineer a sequence of events ending in one sorority girl putting her hand up another sorority girl’s skirt. Go Team Kickass!

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Eat More Peeps!

Still life with peeps.

I’m still averaging less than two posts a day. Over the course of my life. Whatever, these are awesome posts!

You’re a handsome devil, what’s your name?

I need a shave, a haircut, and two bits.

The foosball table is way more playable with some braces. However, even bracing the other side too won’t fix the dead spots. Oh well, that’s what tilting the table is for.

Just remember: spinners aren’t winners!

I guess this is a “pump and dump” night. Yes, that’s a breast milk joke. I went there.

The slogan for Saturday will be “contributing to the deliquency of mothers.”

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Cake Woman’s Second Birthday

Cake Woman came over last Thursday for a mini-birthday celebration with me and the quasi-fam.

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Zombie Photos from Flickr

Zombie Photos from Chris Warren

Time to go get some DaVanni’s.

More zombie photos! Zach is in the back of one of them, thus proving that we weren’t out there by ourselves!
Zombie Pub Crawl - a photoset on Flickr

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I would do anything for BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINS!!!


Our mini horde attacks!
Our mini horde attacks!

Lisa helped us zombify, which led to her demise.<br />
Lisa helped us zombify, which led to her demise.

Zach is majestic in his glory.
Zach is majestic in his glory.

Malory is evil hot
Malory is evil hot.

Stan looked amazing.
Stan looked amazing.

This guy was actually a zombie!
Dude! I can totally feel your brain!
This guy was actually a zombie! I introduced myself, but damned if I can remember anyone’s name from the night.

If you shoot them in the head, aren’t they supposed to stay dead?

How is this a good idea? Thanks for the whiskey, by the way, it was delicious!

Claudia (on the right) owes me a t-shirt. Really, she owes it to Stan, but he bought it for me. Hey, I have her email address in my pocket!

We stopped traffic.

Speaking of hot zombie girls!

Looks like someone got their red wings!

It’s fucking hard to quit smoking, even when you’re dead!

Zombie Jesus, zombie Michael Jackson, and Zombie Moby. Wait, was there a Rob Zombie? I don’t think that there was. FOR SHAME!

Speaking of hot zombie girls!

I put a dollar in zombie fetish nurse’s cleavage. Cake Woman put her meat in zombie fetish nurse’s mouth. I think Cake Woman won. Then again, I got to watch.

Cake Woman ate Zach.

The wait staff at Psycho Suzi’s apparently HATES US. I don’t know. I don’t remember this part of the night very well. I do remember Zach ranting about food. I don’t remember what food arrived, just the pirate. Just One Eyed Willy and his particular brand of mind-erasing mayhem.

Cake Woman made out with every dude ever. I made out with some random chick (who shall remain nameless because her boyfriend was there). Then, Cake Woman picked up my sloppy seconds. Random chick’s boyfriend was there for that and he liked it. I remember the slickery kiss, but not whom I was kissing, or climbing the fence later. Actually, I climbed it twice, because I went back for Stan. Then Stan and I went around. Apparently.

I woke up this morning with an empty bowl next to my bed, so I think that Lisa triaged me.

“Aw crap, did I sleep with the makeup on? I look like shit.”
“No, I washed your face before you went to bed.”

Zach apparently remembers the night a lot better than I do.

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Finally I Find a Garage Sale That Isn’t Just Full of Old People Clothes and Other Old People Crap

It seems like my friends are always finding amazing things for a quarter at yard sales — like studio quality headphones, musical instruments, or helper monkeys. Whenever I go to yard sales it’s always just racks of baby clothes from 1972 and broken kitchen appliances. Enough of that!

Sometime this weekend I went to a garage sale that was chock full of comics and toys. I got the Iron Giant, some grab bags of comics, and Fry from Futurama. Hooray for me!

Also, Lisa put googly eyes on my beer stein. I think that it improves the experience.

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How Was the Bike Ride?

Riding keeps you warm, except for certain parts: any pasty white flesh that gets exposed to the wind and your nuts, which, upon a two degree drop in temperature, will retract back into your body. I thought that I was having an asthma attack until I got inside and felt my nuts drop back out of my throat. As my claws melted I regretted not grabbing any of my ten pairs of gloves. I’m not sure how I’m going to solve the hat issue - maybe I will try a bandana or putting tape over the holes in my helmet. I just don’t want to be bandana guy. He’s not me. Really.

I did not fix my walkin’ around camera. I am sorely tempted to buy a brand new camera. I’ve got the shakes from camera withdrawl.

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