Last Free Man

Snuggie will be the doom of us all

I have been closely monitoring the downfall of mankind my entire life. My earliest memories are of a cynical nature, overtly judging my fellow man for every minor infraction. So I come to the table with over 30 years of study on the subject of man's fail. This current trend I have been watching is possibly the most dangerous one yet, this is the closest our species has come to the precipice of doom. I'm not referring to the socialist takeover of this nation, or the feminizing of man. I'm not even referring to the fact that Obama paid Oprah for an election hand delivered (they are Chicago.) No this trend is a bit more serious than even Mexico's certain demise here in the next few weeks. I am of course referring to the worldwide embracement of the Snuggie. Can you feel your doom? I hope so because it has a pleasant, soft fleece lining with a black soul. Yes my friends the Snuggie will kill us all, read on...

You know the Snuggie, it was the bane of late night stoner TV, but has of late become an almost chic Hollywood temptress.  This ridiculous "garment" is basically a blanket you can wear.  I remember a vision I once had of a LaZboy chair that you could shit in, it horrified me terribly, this wearable blanket however; wow is this really what we have become?  I suppose we have become so lazy we cannot be bothered to dis-blanket upon leaving the couch, God forbid that extra 4 seconds of wardrobe change!  So this is it I suppose, this will be one of the riders of the apocalypse a blue wearable blanket, congratulations humanity these are the last days of Rome.

Just for fun, not that it will persuade the sheeple of this world at all, let us go over the downsides of Snuggie use, shall we?!  Snuggies are blankets with sleeves lets keep this in mind as these bullets are cast: 

• A blanket with sleeves made of Chinese polymers and acrylic with it's large flowy sleeves ought to be hella fun around candles, stoves, and angry dogs.  The piles of dead seniors and ghetto mamas should be substantial.
• Wearing a Snuggie in public is really the same thing as wearing fur, you may get blood thrown at you, it is after all a Cookie Monster pelt...
• If you are so inclined, and in a warmer climate, you may wish to "Snuggie-N-the-Nude" this may cause irritation to those ringing your doorbell, as you turn away to get your checkbook, when they get the ole' hospital gown crack test.  Do this enough and they have a special place on the sex offender registry for snuugie naturists, be warned.
• Working off our earlier premise there, it is literally impossible to masturbate in a Snuggie.  It cannot be done, I don't care how talented of a gymnast you are, masturbation in a snuggie is never going to happen.  Maybe a patch in the future will solve this issue but until then, no spanky for you.
• Those wearing slankets oops I mean Snuggies in Communist countries may be shot with AK-47 Kalashnikovs, thus being mistaken for any number of religious monks.
• Adding belts, tassels, bells, or even tie dying are not tested methods of stylizing the Snuggie.  Any modifications beyond its factory specification cannot be guaranteed safe and must be done so with great care.
• If you are wandering the woods with your Snuggie in place and decide to pick up a gnarled piece of wood, there is a small chance you could be mistaken for a wizard, black mage, or worst yet a white mage, someone battling monsters in your zone may call out for help assuming you are a magic based class.  You could cause an entire party to wipe and have to re-spawn, just because you went on a granola hike with your Snuggie!  Think people!!
• The Snuggie has a half life of over 1000 years, you are responsible for this object's safe disposal for this period of time, you may even be responsible for this thing longer than Helen Thomas' old socialist ass remains on this earth.
• When the great depression comes next year sometime, and the war for mankind begins, you may be required to turn your snuggie over to a government redistribution center for release to the poor, as you will be heading off to the camps anyways, you probably won't mind.
• Farting in Snuggie mode, or otherwise emptying your bowels could lead to a dangerous "gas encasement situation."  This is similar to the exploding grain silos of the Midwest.
• Alcohol and drugs mixed with a Snuggie while fun at first, can be a gateway to risky behaviors.  Auto-erotic asphyxiation, corndogging and cheesing were all at one time simple household pleasures, keep this in mind! 
• Ladies, Snuggies are not sexy fashionista gear, they are trendy for now, but remember it is tent-ware like this that leads to a slippery slope of muumuu wearing and hairy moles, back hair too.

Snuggie just say no!

Just a bit of Vindaloo, perfection!

Ever since I was initially exposed to the BBC's masterful show "Red Dwarf" I have been trying to cook Indian.  I love smelling up the whole neighborhood with my madrasses and chutneys.  As an amateur foodie I think Indian food presents a lofty challenge due to its typical high ingredient count, and multi dimensional flavor.  This type of food is not for the lazy palette, the real beauty in all this cuisine is the fact that while you may be met with sweet in the beginning of a bite, the finish very well may be hot and spicy, this jack-in-the-box approach to spice has always intrigued me.

The English certainly know curry as a flavor and the dish/style is threatening to take over as a national food favorite, giving the old fish and chips a run for it's money.  My favorite dish which I borrowed from the show Red Dwarf was the one Lister constantly craved, spilled, and made everyone deal with each episode: the Vindaloo.  The vindaloo is the pinnacle of Indian schizophrenic flavor, in the beginning you are delighted with a citrusy cool bite, which follows with an earthy cardamom tone, only to finish with a painful blast of heat from the chilis!  This is the dish i have been chasing for years.  I have dined in hole in the wall Indian joints, tried the pre mixed sauces and lots of various recipes.  Only now, last night in fact have I perfected the Vindaloo. 

Last night was the night, somehow the universe allowed it to be...

I will now share my secret recipe for this spicy firebomb of Indian indulgence.  First pick a meat, prawn, chicken, goat, sheep, whatever.  I chose the classic chicken vindaloo.  To start we need to make our curry simmer sauce.  Get a blender and add:

• 1 tsp turmeric

• 1 tsp ground cinnamon

• 1 tsp mustard seed

• 1 tsp coriander

• 1 tsp fenugreek

• 1 tsp pine nuts

• 1 tsp nutmeg

• 2 tsp fresh ground cardamom

• 2 tbsp fresh ground cumin

• 1 tbsp white pepper

• 1 tbsp fresh habanero or Thai dragon chilis

• 1 tbsp fresh ground/smashed ginger root

• 1 tbsp fresh garlic

• 5 tbsp white wine vinegar

• 6 tbsp distilled water

• 1/2 lime juiced fresh

• 1/2 lemon juiced then zest ed fresh

• 3 small heirloom tomatoes sour variety

Throw all that stuff in a blender and let it blend low.  When possible all herbs/spices should be fresh or at least freshly pestled from the originating seed.  While the above is mixing in the blender get 4-5 small organic onions going in a pan for at least an hour with a small amount of peanut oil.  We want at least a cup of caramelized onions when it finishes.  This is when we start drinking I recommend a Sweetwater 420 at this point.  You have an hour to kill while the onions are caramelizing so drink on.

Get your chicken together, I chose 4-5 large skinless chicken breasts and cubed them into bite-sized pieces.  I know it seems early considering the onions but go ahead and cut it up, them transfer it to an airtight dish.  This is when we scent the chicken which takes an hour or more which we have so lets drink.  Take 2 or 3 bay leaves and put them in the bottom of the dish, place chicken on top.  Now add the remaining ginger root from above, cut the root whole into quarter-sized pieces, and add to the top of the chicken.  Now add a few sprigs of rosemary and lavender 5-6 should do, cover the chicken with these herbs like you were trying to hide it on "Lost" or something, continue drinking. 

What a freakish mix of herbs you are surely thinking, yes!  You see we are scenting, not flavoring; the herbs will not be used in the cooking, rather their essence will be absorbed by the chicken and add a depth of flavor to the inside, while the outside curry hits you full on like a punch to the face.  Place your scenting chicken in the fridge, turn of the blender, get another beer, perhaps a "Shocktop" this time.  Open the blender and take a deep breathe of the magical curry, notice the highs the lows, the heat, the earth, if you breathe deep enough Lakshmni herself may appear and bless your dish, time for more beer.

While drinking beer 3 you may have noticed that your onions are starting to finally convert over to sugar as the caramelizing is drawing near.  When they are reduced to one cup take an entire lime and juice it over your pan, slowly turning the heat up as you deglaze all that yummy brown stuff off of the bottom.  If done correctly the acidic lime should leave you with a clean pan and perfectly citrus-fused caramelized onions! Drink now as you admire your hour of hard work.  This is why Indian is great for drinking, there is always something to simmer, or watch, or scent, so you can stay in the kitchen away from the guests, act busy, and just drink ahhhh...

Now set your beer down (just for a second chill!)  Add the onions to your blender and turn it up to the highest setting.  Now this is a wonderful, fluffy curry with a nice sweet top and a dragon-like finish!  After another beer grab your chicken and using the previously deglazedpan place about a 1/10 of an inch of peanut oil in the bottom and begin heating.  Slowly start browning your chicken in small batches if you add too much chicken it will steam and that sucks, it usually takes 4 rounds for this much chicken.  Only half brown each side as you add fresh lime pieces to the chicken and oil, this will further mix the citrus oil of the peel with our oil.  Do not fully cook the chicken!  Brown each side for two minutes and toss chunks into an auxiliary bowl.  Get beered and again deglaze your pan with a lime.

  Your pan should now be cleany deglazed and ready for the final moment. The curry simmer, which is when the full onslaught of flavor jackhammer's your delicately scented chicken.  Better get one last beer because when the step happens the whole bloody house fills up with wonder and all those guests are going to start clamoring into the dining area, thereby disturbing your private drinking.

Add the chicken slowly back in the pan and turn the heat up, when you hear the sizzle slowly pour/spoon your curry mix onto the chicken, begin slowy mixing and turning.  When the first bubbling occurs, reduce heat and let simmer for 10-12 minutes, stirring frequently.  As the chicken finishes cooking it more easily absorbs the curry, and leaves a much juicier overall dish.  Turn off heat and spatula everything together nice and tight and let rest for 3 minutes to thicken.

Plating is with a jasmine scented rice, or black marsh grass, preferably on the side with a nice display of citrus for bouquet.  Grab your last beer and sit back in your kitchen warzone, watching as your guests delight in the wonderful citrusy beginning.  Then have a long drink and a sinister laugh as the curry finishes them off with a brutal firebomb in their mouths! Ahh this is the great equalizer amongst lazy palettes, and a great tool to determine who "says" they like Indian and who just wants to act politically correct, take that whitey!

Hangover cure for this dish:

Omelette's made with leftover curry, sour cream, fresh orange juice, blueberry and a 6 mile run...

I need animal spray

  Living in the suburbs is supposed to be quite, clean living.  This is why I drive 2 hours a day in traffic in order to relax in the country, outside the perimeter suits me just fine.  Here as of late however the animal situation is getting a little played out.  It all started with a wild cat who now calls my porch furniture home.  Then of course the opossums, raccoons, and deer started showing up.  Finally the other night I caught a flying squirrel in the attic.  I'm not quite sure what vibe it is that I am putting out to the universe but it must be something like "animals this way!"  Either way some funny videos follow showing the constant animal attack I currently find myself suffering...

• Daytime Raccoon Blues

• Suburban Deer 

• Opossum Molester 

Gravy pschosis a rant thereof

That's it I have had it, 2008 is finally over and I couldn't be gladder, yeah I said gladder, I once said betterer too it was an ophthalmologist I believe. What's all this jive about you may ask well since it is 2009-er now I thought the whole world was fixed now that the magic man is in office and everyone got their pimped out tax handouts... Not so, you see I still can't make gravy!!

Yes I am a foodie, a gourmage, a gastro-engineer. I have spent countless hours in my kitchen pounding away on black granite making dishes for friends and relatives that rivaled the Iron chef’s top muster. I can cook 24 spice laced Indian foods at a master level, my scallops are never fail and I have perfected the rare art of perfect béarnaise sauce. I can roll sushi, I can double boil chocolate, I can make fresh whip cream and cheese. This is not a brag blog it's an information setup. All these mad kitchen skills have earned me rare kudos from fellow stuck up foodie types and admiration of various women dates, which make it back to my lair. All of this culinary awesomeness and I cannot still in 2009, with Obama in the "White" house promising everything; make gravy...

Yes gravy, the staple of ghetto/redneck cooking. The only bridge between the races, the glue that binds all unhealthy cooking together, is amiss from my culinary rape kit. What the hell is wrong with me?! Try again did I last night, with 4 cups of prime roast drippings in hand, I approached my sizzling hot skillet, ready for total gravy win. Slowly I added the renderings of my 10 hour sirloin tip roast, complete with organic vegetables and a few heirloom onions.

The small amount of liquid in the pan made a riotous boil and I slowly added flour. Fail, instant Polaroid, freaking fail. Stupid little white balls began forming instantly. My $16 bottle of wine gravy was now turning into a home for micro-dumplings fuck fuck fuckity fuck!! I got so angry, I had an impulse to run outside with my gravy pan in the street and beat it into an unrecognizable object right then and there. I held back, this is a new neighborhood, a new start, no one here realizes the psycho living next door yelling at gravy yet, better keep it cool.

So I started again, this time more drippings and a pre dissolved formulation of flour and corn starch. You know corn starch, in my family it's like testicle tonic or something; I have been tripping through that stuff in the bathroom for 33 years, now it's time to eat it. The pan started sizzling hard again, I reached for my concoction almost feeling the fail awaiting me in that doomed pan below. I breathed deep, grabbed up my whisk and began slowly adding the flour mixture. Bubble bubble, and tiny white pancakes began forming out of the perfect batter of which I had provided. Oh my God, I muttered to myself... I think I am about freak out here; I just need to step back from the gravy pan before someone or something inanimate gets hurt!! Ugggh The fail this time is complete with little smiling ass baby gravy pancakes!!

That’s it, I strained out my dumplings attempted to salvage some of my "gravy" and moved on with dinner. A fantastic rosemary/garlic fused sirloin roast to perfection, with a side of loser-fail gravy. The boat of which contained this menace looked almost angry at the task of porting this shit attempt at a side sauce... I had to drink an entire 750ml cab-sav for good measure, and to forget the pain of this, yet again gravy failure of my life... One theory voiced recently by a chef friend was the possibility that I have so hit the ceiling of amateur chef mastership, that the universe itself (Much like Bono universal relativity theory,) will simply not allow me to conjure gravy. Whichever reality is the truth is of little consequence, the situation remains and I am still in my own personal daily Hell of gravy abandon. Screw you gravy and your minions of Hell…