crockpot crazy

i have a handful of go-to recipes i make in my crock pot.  moroccon beef stew.  chili.  black beans.  occasional soups.  but i've never really ROCKED my crock.

until now.  thanks to @misstattootara, who has a pinning obsession (as do i, find me on pinterest @stephgas.  same for instagram) and pins a lot of slow cooker meals, i've started compiling a bucket of new slow cooker recipes for awesome husband and i to enjoy (since i'm plugging everyone's fucking twitter and pinterest, you can find awesome husband @_antgas on both twitter and instagram). 

i tried a sesame chicken the other day which turned out less than awesome (leftovers were tossed.  that kind of 'less than awesome').  but i found a lot of great blogs with photos and recipes of slow cooker meals.

while reading them, i realized something: both of my crocks are timer-free.  i have a 4 quart and a 6 quart, one for meat and one for veg.  it turns out i cook vegetarian crock pot meals for my brother about once a year, so a separate one is not necessary.  ONCE i made chili for the family, and one crock was meat, one crock was faux meat.  ONCE.  in an entire year.

so i'm donating my gently used 4 quart (hanging onto the 6 quart in case i need to make 'fill in the blank' for a crowd) and purchased a shiny new cuisinart 3.5 quart slow cooker with a timer function.  i set the timer for however many hours, set it to high, low, or simmer, and walk away.  after the time is up, it automatically switches to the warm setting for up to eight hours. 

last week with my sesame chicken debacle, i set it for 6.5 hours, went to work, came home 8 hours later and it was perfect - cooked through and still hot (it was the sauce that ruined the meal, not the cooking).

today i'm trying another recipe - orange beef.  i've never even ordered orange beef from a chinese restaurant, so we'll see how this goes.  credit where credit is due, i snatched this recipe from stephanie o'dea who challenged herself to make something DIFFERENT in her crock EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR.  and she has a fuckton of awesome recipes on her blog, including slow cooker orange beef.

i have to modify each recipe a bit as i go because i'm cooking for 2 (usually get three servings) but like, in this recipe, she uses 1.5 pounds of beef... i'm using 3/4 of a pound.  so i cut everything in half.  i also may end up reducing the time a bit here and there as i get used to how my new crock works.  since it's a bit smaller (she uses a 4 quart for many of her meals) and i'm filling it a bit less, it *should* even out, right?

RIGHT??

anyway.  so last night i sliced up my eye round (on sale at stop & shop, i hate paying full price for meat) and popped it in a reuseable, resealable container (not a tupperware, since that's a brand name and i own, like, two things from tupperware) along with the ingredients called for.

i gently threw it in the fridge and have given it a toss each time i'm in the fridge.  now i'll be dumping it in the crock, along with a bunch of frozen veg.  that's right, fuck fresh.

no, not fuck fresh.  it's just, frozen veg are just as good for you and hold longer and are less expensive when i buy them on sale (yes, i also fucking detest paying full price for frozen vegetables.  there are few things i enjoy paying full price for...).  one medium pepper, sliced, should yield roughly a cup.  and i'm halving this recipe... but i love me some veggies.  so i'm going to add a cup and a half of mixed peppers to my crock.  i'm also going to toss in a scant 1/2 cup of chopped onion too, because i'm too lazy to buy green onions and i love nice, smushy onions cooked in the crock pot.  like stephanie o'dea's daughters, i don't eat bok choy and saw no reason to waste money on something i don't like to eat.  so i left that out too.

then i set my crock for 6 hours (i'm erring on the low side of the time because it's a smaller portion), set it for low, and go to work! 

we'll see how it comes out when i come home tonight...

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

so i came home about a quarter after 8.  i opened the crock and found this....

i guess that sheen is a bit of fat from the meat floating on top.  no biggie, right?

it was a bit liquidy, probably because i used frozen vegetables so they release a bit of liquid.  i reheated some brown rice i had left over from the sesame chicken debacle and awesome husband and i sat down to this....

pretty much yum.  the flavor was delicious.  i can see it might be a bit better with fresh veg, but i'm a busy fucking woman.  but it was very good.  i'll just cut back on the liquid next time.

so there you have it.  i'm going to post stuff about my crock adventures as well as the normal other shit.

i got a call back on the job interview i went on last week, which is a great sign.  i can't wait until thursday to see what happens!

have a safe and happy fourth of july everyone!

well, at least i posted *something*

my last 40 minutes at the shop today, and i'm going to write a bit of a post. 

thing have been going... well, going.  things have picked up at the shop a bit for me.  today alone i did hip piercings, a nipple piercing, and a nostril piercing.  which is a pretty fucking good day as far as piercing is concerned. 

i had a call back on one of my many resumes submitted.  a phone interview.  which i guess might lead to an in-person interview.  who knows how long this process could take lol.  and i put in an application at a place i used to work before i got married.  it's a great company to work for and it would be neat to go back.

and i'm still personal training with my personal trainer.  we did lower body today and ZOMG OW.  i had to do squat thingies and calf raises and these backward-lunge-into-a-kick thing and my obliques and my glutes and holy fuck, he made me lean against a wall and squat and hold it for 30 seconds and it FUCKING HURTTT.  but i know it's good because i burned over 500 calories during my 50 minute workout.

of course, i'm eating back all of my workout calories today because i'm fucking hunnnnnnnngrrrryyyyyyyyy.

tomorrow i have a facial and a massage lined up, as well as my 'phone interview'.  and i may weed the garden a bit if it stops fucking raining.  we'll see about that.  we'll see.

on a final note, my hair is no longer mostly pink.  i'm dark brown again.  awesome husband was a bit taken aback, i've been pink for almost 5 years.  pictures soon, i promish.  but until then, here's a reminder of what my hair *used* to look like...

omfg

i hadn't lost like any weight.  so i signed up with a personal trainer a couple of weeks ago and am hitting the gym hard.  i work out with the trainer for 30 minutes two times a week.  then i replicate each of those workouts on another day of the week, and i have one 'rest' day of 45-60 minutes of cardio.  and i end up working out another day sometimes.  so it's 5-6 days a week at the gym, an hour a day.

mind you, on top of this i'm 'dieting'.  and drinking a fuckton of water.  66-128 ounces every damn day.  66 ounces is what i drink on my off/rest days.  workout days i drink between 99-128 ounces.  i was using an app from livestrong and had it set to lose 2 pounds a week, which is 1000 calorie deficit.  and it was telling me i was burning like a gazillion calories working out, and i was eating at least half of those calories back.  but i wasn't really burning that many calories, so i was eating extra calories.

enter me buying a heart rate monitor.  so that way i was able to accurately track how many calories i was burning each workout.  i even wore it for 24 hours straight on an off day so i could determine how many calories i burned a day while sleeping, eating, and breathing.  basal metabolic rate.

and then i decided to use a new app.  the livestrong one is neat (awesome husband uses it for his body building and he's gained like 4 pounds since he started using it [can you imagine needing to GAIN weight? if only]) but the community had a huge mix of people.  including body builders and anorexics.  and it's not that i have an issue with people trying to gain weight, but reading the stuff the anorexics were going through and writing about was emotionally taxing to me. 

so i started using myfitnesspal. which i really like.  they have a facebook-like timeline thingy that you can interact with your 'friends'.  so i can friend request people who have similar stuff to mine - like a lot of weight to lose, or who just started, or who weigh in on the same days as me, whatever.  and we can cheer each other on and shit like that.  and this time, i set it to lose 1 pound a week to see if it changed anything.

and it has.  between eating more calories, using my heart rate monitor, and having almost two weeks of personal training under my belt, i've lost 2.5 pounds.  which brings my overall total to just about 4.4 pounds.

paltry, really.  less than 2% of my overall body weight.  but it's almost 2% more than last month... so i guess that's good.

in other news, tattooing continues unabated.  i'm at the point where i barely want to post photos of my tattoos because some of them are half finished and whatnot.  plus, my half sleeve is almost half done so i kind of want to wait until it's done.  you can always find me on instagram - stephgas - where i generally post photos of shit like that. 

busy times, peeps, busy times.  i just wish i had more time to tell you all about what's happening in my life.  because OBVIOUSLY that's why you're here ;)  until then, take a look at this:

my baby jakes <3

hmmm... hello.

hello.  hi there.  how have you been?

me?  okay, i guess.  eating 1400 calories a day, plus half of my exercise calories back.  and not losing ANY FUCKING WEIGHT.

i've been busting my hump in the gym, either on the treadmill or the bicycle, and weight training, six days a week.  and i haven't lost ANY FUCKING INCHES.

so basically, i'm eating so carefully and working out and doing all the things i'm supposed to do, and NOTHING IS HAPPENING.

okay, i lost 2.4 pounds.  in almost THREE WEEKS.  that's ridiculous.  i mean, seriously, i should have lost more than that in water weight alone. 

oh, and speaking of water.  FIFTY SOMETHING OUNCES A DAY?!  i fucking hate water.  it's horrible.  i hate drinking it.  and yet, here i am, drinking between 50-60 ounces a day, every day.  and then i can switch to my diet crack coke. 

i mean, at least i'm eating better.  right? 

i'm trying to get in touch with a registered dietician that my doctor recommended.  that way i can be sure i'm doing what i'm supposed to be doing.  because some things i see say to eat my 1400 calories and work out all i want - but then if i burn 1000 calories, i've only really 'eaten' 400... so won't my body go into starvation mode?  i mean, 1400 calories is already a deficit, right?

i think so.  most things i can find online say that my basal metabolic rate should be between 1900-2300 calories a day.  that's how many calories i need to, like, live.  like, breathing and brain function and shit like that.  so 1400 calories a day is already a deficit. 

sooooo... i should already be losing weight.  right?

RIGHT??

anyway.  so i've not been blogging because i've been busy not making money as a body piercer and struggling over choosing where to go to school.

other than that.  times are good. 

i don't have excuses

i really don't. i just suck and am busy. sorry for the lack of posting.

but i've started on yet *another* lifestyle change.  i downloaded this app from livestrong.org and it's really useful. and it's got a neat little community feature built into the app that is full of ridiculous people who boost each other up.

so it wants me to eat 1400 calories a day.  which is not a lot but, you know.  i weight a lot. 

have i ever disclosed my weight here before?  it's a touchy subject.  i know i'm fat a big girl.  but i never really want to talk about *how* big i am. 

275 pounds.  and that's not my highest weight.  it's just what i am now.

and i wake up in the morning and my hips hurt.  i thought it was how i was sleeping, so i changed that.  maybe i need to stretch or work out.  so i did that.  my hips still hurt.

and i realized it was probably because i'm fat a big girl.

i always rationalized it away... excused it.

• i stopped using drugs, i can enjoy food.
• i stopped drinking sugary soda and switched to diet, i can enjoy food.
• i quit smoking, i can enjoy food.

299 pounds was the first time i really dieted.  i freaked out - i couldn't weigh 300 pounds.  i did slim fast and lost 53 pounds in about 7 months.  and lost ONE clothing size.

how the fuck is that possible?  i went from like a 24/22 to 22/20.  fuck.

anyway.

i gained 18 back when i quit smoking.  and gained a bit more when my mom died and decided to stop cooking and drink all the time.  and i've sort of tried since then.  joined a gym and worked out a bit.  watched what i eat.

but apparently that just doesn't work for me.  i need to track every damn thing that i put in my mouth or i won't lose weight.  so here we are again. 

tomorrow morning is my first weigh in.  i'm nervous as hell because if i didn't lose anything, i'll be sadpanda.  i've eaten under 1500 calories every day for a week except for saturday because i had a party and i still ate A LOT less than i used to eat at parties like that.

i'm also using supplements.  CLA, thermogenic pills, l-carnitine supplements (i call it l-carnosaur.  obvs).  i take a multivitamin and a biotin pill for healthy skin, hair, and nails.  i use replacement shakes to supplement my calorie intake and fill my stomach the fuck up.  so, we'll see.  we'll see.

i don't have an end game - i just want to lose weight.  although i do have my 15 year high school reunion in six months and a cruise just after that.  so i wouldn't mind being a bit thinner then :)

aside from eating better and exercising, i also have one more challenge: to not buy new clothes until i'm down at least a full size.  we'll see how that goes.

new shooz?

wasn't new shooz an 80s band?  had a song called 'i can't wait'.  or am i mixing them up with someone else?

anyway.  i got new shoes a couple of weeks ago and VOWED that i would wear them somewhere last friday.  instead of planning ahead and trying to like get a group of people together to go someplace neat i could show off my shoes, i procrastinated and asked my dad to go out to dinner with us last minute.  on thursday he said 'yes'.  on friday he changed his mind and was like 'i got caught up with shit at work so i can't do it tonight.  tomorrow?' and i was sad.

for a minute.  then i put on comfy pants (my brother was home, otherwise i would have been pantsless) and we ordered pizza.  so it ended up being okay.

so saturday night i wrangled my dad into taking us out to dinner at our favorite steakhouse.  we chipped in, obvs, but he had a gift certificate he was willing to share.  i had a margarita and a couple of mojitos and steak and baked clams and it was delicious.  as always.  we took our after dinner drinks outside so dad could smoke a cigar and just chat.  and i looked GOOD.

my new shoes.  it's hard to see, but the hell and the platform are covered in like glitter.

awesome husband sitting outside enjoying his irish coffee

me looking AWESOME. if not a bit top heavy.

then sunday awesome husband and my brother did some yardwork while i did some homework.  we also did some shopping at BJs and purchased our usual HUGE package of string cheese.  i had a pedicure at a salon that was showing star wars - sadly, the pedicure was worth every cent i paid for it - only $14.  i will not be going back there.

of course, i was thrilled to see that they used their autoclave.  one of the last places i went to didn't.  it was the second or third time i was there and i was having my manicure.  and behind my manicurist were the two autoclaves.  i thought it was odd that neither appeared to be on, but one didn't have a light on the front so i figured that one was on and the other was off because... well, maybe they only needed one at a time?  THEN i noticed that NEITHER MACHINE WAS EVEN PLUGGED IN.  and i saw two of the manicurists put their little box of tools in there and take it back out.  like they were PRETENDING to sterilize shit.

so i stopped going there.  anyway, i had my pedi and then i decided i needed to have mojitos.  apparently EVERY liquor store in the area closes at 5pm on sundays.  we finally found one place that drastically overcharged for bacardi but, whatever, i got my mojito on.  i tried to make one with truvia and it wasn't quite the same.  i might try again to see if i mess with the ratios it will be better. 

and now it's time to go to KFC.  awesome husband just decided he needs popcorn chicken and mashed potatoes.  i suppose i can be talked into a biscuit or two.  we're spending our labor day watching 'star wars' and drinking.  good thing we've not started drinking yet so we can drive to KFC.

happy bloggiversary to me!

it appears that, unbeknownst to me, my six month bloggiversary passed recently. 

not sure why this matters, but i know the barreness celebrated hers recently too.  so i want in on that.

in other news, samantha jumped off my shoulder and missed the couch.  or missed the floor by catching her hind leg on the couch.  and now has torn ligaments around her babeh kitteh kneecap :/  she's getting anti-inflammatory medication for now, and in about two weeks if it's not healed, she might need surgery :( :( :(

what else, what else...  oh, i'm sure i'll get around to that next post in the tale of my life changing, as it were.  but i've also started my next block of classes in school, intro to psych and critical thinking.  and i received my grades from my last two classes, eng/102 and computer information - both 'A's.  which means i'm running a cool 4.0 at this point.  i'm hoping to keep it there.  i know, it seems ridiculous to strive for perfection or near-perfection, but if you don't aim for the stars, what's the point?

holy fuck, i can't believe i just wrote that.

also also, i'm on day like two? three? of a 'lifestyle change' (not diet).  when i went to the doctor for my cold, he pointed out that my blood pressure was up.  there could be numerous reasons: i was anxious being at the doctor's office.  i had been taking cough medicine.  pristiq CAN affect blood pressure.  and there is no way in HELL that i'm giving up my delicious, square, pinkish happy pill.  so, i figured i should like work out and eat better and lose some weight or what not.  and i got big girl yoga!!  dvd just came in the mail today.  i can't really get 'regular' yoga, because there's no place to put my tits during some poses.  seriously.  this dvd is yoga like modified for overweight and obese people, and i'm actually really superexcited about it.  i'm absolutely sure you'll hear all about it.

until then, keep your unit on you.

are any of us 'living an authentic life'?

so i totes stole this idea from semi true torystellar at can u relate? because that's how i fucking roll.

but seriously.  it got me thinking.  read her post first so i can skip some of the backstory.

she talks about wearing a mask and not being authentic.  how so many of her friends are within the church and probably wouldn't approve of her real-life activities.  of course, semi true goes further and says they may lay hands on her and cast out her demons.  you might think she's joking.

she's not.

it's not that she's a bad person: she most certainly is not.  she is not a fraud.  she is not evil or wrong or horrible or hateful or mean to small children and furry animals.  she's pretty much awesome:  she drinks vodka, swears more often than she admits, bangs the hell out of her husband, and votes democrat. 

i don't see any problems.  i actually would say she's me, except i take full ownership of my swearing.

but semi true brings up that point:  she isn't a cursing, vodka-swilling, husband-humping liberal when she's with her friends. 

i posted a short comment on her blog (and owned up to the fact that i was copying her.  imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so suck on it) stating how i WANT to say i'm myself all the fucking time.  how i'm always this real and awesome and crazy.

the truth is, i am always this awesome and crazy.  and i think i'm almost always this real.  i learned/was taught at an early age that appearances were important.  that some things were acceptable, and some were not.  i was not encouraged to share my feelings.  when i started 'acting out' at 11 or 12, i was brought to a psychotherapist who said i was lying for attention - that i was a pathological liar.  when i began being abused and mistreated by a family member, i told another adult - and was accused of lying.

i never brought it up again.

and thus began my foray into years of wearing many masks.  at school, i ventured between shy and crying to being outgoing and loud.  i would be holed up in the nurse's office or library hiding from people one day and holed up in an unlocked art closet with a boy the next.  i would lock myself in my bedroom and hang a blanket over the window and cry, or tape a plastic bag over my head and try to die.  i would go to a family function, all dressed up with my makeup done and smile and shake hands and be the perfect teenager.  i was myself in my bedroom, when i was alone.  some friends saw through a few of the cracks, some of my family picked up on things here or there, but what it all amounted to could be written off as 'hormones' or 'moody teenager'.  i hid my depression, my suicide attempts, most of my addictions, my cutting, my sexual activities, all of it.  no one - not one person - knew the whole story.

and i'd put my mask on and see my family or friends, i'd go over this one's house or meet that one's parents, and everything would seem fine.

until my 18th birthday.  at my paternal grandmother's house.  in front of my brother, dad, aunt and uncle, and grandparents i had a literal meltdown.  i barely remember what was said, but i remember shouting that i was sick of pretending to be someone i wasn't just to please them. 

it was freeing; it was horrifying.  i was disgusted with myself for acting like that, but pleased that the proverbial cat was out of the bag.

but was it?  i like to think that since that day, i have been myself - i'm not afraid for you to know i'm a neo-pagan: a witch.  i identify myself as a bisexual, as a democrat, as a big girl, as crazy, as a recovering addict, as a self-injurer, as an artist, as a cat-mom, as a wife, sister, and daughter.

i am always all of these things, whether or not i tell my friends or family, my prospective employers, people i meet in lines at disney.  just because i don't say these things doesn't mean i'm not these things.  it comes back to what semi true said: she is not authentic with these people because she is afraid they will reject who she really is. 

i think we all come to a point where we decide FUCK THOSE PEOPLE.  if they can't love me for who i actually am, why would i want them in my life?  but even then, there is a line.  don't we all have a friend who we really disagree with on at least one major issue?  for instance, i'm superagainst declawing cats to the point where when a friend was considering declawing her cats, i considered ending the friendship.  (she didn't and neither did i.) and looking back - i would not have ended the friendship.  i would have shared what i knew about declawing, let her horribly mutate her cats, been a bit mad at her inside, but kept the friendship.  that is not authentic.  but does that make it wrong?

it's like i said in the comment i left on semi true's blog.  i hate pants.  they are tight and clothesy.  my thighs get claustrophobic.  so often, when i am in for the night, i take my pants off.  since we currently live communally with mom, i try to put my yoga pants on.  but that doesn't always happen.  just because i don't take my pants off when i go to my dad's or my in-law's or your house, am i being inauthentic (or whatever the word would be)?

no, i'm being fucking polite by not subjecting you to my cellulite.

but i do have two friends who live in new york.  when i get to their house (when they don't have roommates who object) i take off my shoes, take off my pants, and curl up on their couch.  i know it's not exactly the same, but it's not really like i'm wearing pants (FINE, it's not like i'm wearing a mask.  you guys are boring).  it's not like i'm wearing a mask when i am in mixed company - it's not that i'm not being steph gas.  it's that some of steph gas is taking a time out because it's easier to keep the peace that way.

like my friends-who-i-remain-pantsless-with.  we went to disney and got drunk one night.  the two of us with BOOBS decided to flash all the tourists on the way home.  that was steph gas being steph gas.  me not taking my tits out when i go see my brother is not me being disingenuous.  it's just a part of steph gas that is taking a time out because my younger brother really doesn't need/want to see my bewbz.

so, to wrap it up here, the practical upshot of all this has to do with keeping your pants on and your BOOBS in their place when you are with people who might judge you.

it's not my fault i'm so full of the AWESOME

that's right, bitches.  i won another blog award.  here it is:

boo yah, sir.  boo yah.

this was bestowed upon me by semi true torystellar over at can u relate?  i'm supposed to list ten superhonest things about myself and to tell you the truth, i'm really pissed off right now because i worked superhard on it and blogger fucked me right up the ass and it's all gone now.  it's impossible to capture lightening like that twice, so this is probably going to be subpar and less awesome and i'm going to be angry and pissy and whatever.

ANYWAY.

1. in my mind, the barreness looks like nigella lawson.  i have an unhealthy borderline obsession with nigella, to the point where i cannot watch her cooking shows.  and since the lovely barreness speaks her mind on her anonymous blog about sexy things and naughty bits, it's only natural that i have developed an unhealthy borderline obsessive blog crush on her.
2. i spent more time than i'd like to admit geeking out and being in an online roleplaying wrestling federation.  that's right.  i made my own character and we'd write out promos and other more talented people would write out entire shows, complete with my character kicking guy's asses.  or having sex with them.  whatever.  geektastic.
3. i ate awesome husband's ding dong.  OMGGETYOURMINDOUTOFTHEGUTTER.  he has a box of ding dongs in the pantry and i just ate one because they are delicious.  you cheeky minxes.
4. i had my first serious crush on a girl on someone i'd known for years who may or may not be reading this blog right now.  no questions, please.  i won't tell you who it is so don't ask.  i like to keep you all quivering with antici........pation.
5. all i can think about now is how proud i was of my first list of ten superhonest things about myself, and how fucking pissed off i am that i lost it.  and i can't think of more honest things to say or remember what was on the first list.
6. i still pick my nose.  i'll own up to it.  i also have both nostrils pierced, so i think that entitles me to digging around in there.  i don't do it in front of company, though.  or at least, i try not to.
7. i am harder on myself than other people are on me.  and while i think that's true for a lot of people, i go a step further because i think that some people expect less from me because i'm crazy, so i push myself even harder.
8. i make people laugh.
9. i make people cry.
10. on good days, i think i'm a pretty rad person.  i've gone through a lot of shit and horribleness and terrible things to get here, and i think i turned out good.  i know i have even more shit to go through, but if i didn't go through what i've gone through, i'd be less of a person than i am now.  if that makes sense.

now i suppose it's time for me to pass this award on to some blogs i like.  i'm giving it to three people today, because i like the number three.

firstly is the barreness at hello, sailor.  she's supersuperhonest on her anonymous blog, as well as a bit naughty at times.  but i have to admire that kind of forthrightness.

second i'll share it with nicki at the loaded handbag because she is honest and her blog makes me think sometimes, but she's still funny and quirky and awesome.

and finally i'm passing this one on to stephaniec who writes seriously?? reeeally? seriously?.  not only is she honest with us, but i think stephc is pretty honest with herself on that blog.  plus?  she has THE BEST NAME.


now i'm going to go find something to eat and obsessively check to see if my eng101 grade has been posted yet.  steph gas, over and out.

it's not that i don't like babies, i just prefer crabs.

now i know that some of my friends may be reading this, and i'm not naming any names.  but if you are pregnant and reading this and may have just announced your pregnancy on facebook today, don't like take this personally.  i mean, no preggers people should take this personally.  i'm all for making babehs.  i like sex as much as the next gal.  seriously.

and i'm totally cool with our decision not to have babehs.  like, in my most calm, lucid, wise moments i know i do not want children.  awesome husband and i have discussed it at length.  i get angry when people ask us why we're waiting, or when we'll start a family.  i get super upset when family members assume i'll change my mind - 'oh, that's what (fill in whatever woman's name here) always said, and now look at her, she has two children!  you guys will change your minds'.

nothing is ever 100% certain - but we don't plan on changing our minds.  we. do. not. want. children.

so why am i super sad, sitting at my computer practically crying because another of my friends from high school announced her pregnancy?  can i tell you that i have 130 friends on facebook (and i actually know almost all of them in person - like 5 or 6 are co-workers or long-time internet buddies).

six of my friends on facebook are currently pregnant.  it seems like a lot, i guess.  and it's not that i'm not super happy for them - it's great that they are having children and are stoked about it.  but... i don't want kids.

right?  i decided i didn't want kids eleven years ago.  for eleven years i've known i don't want my own children.  for eleven years i've watched my sister-in-law and quite a few close friends have teeny babehs, which are super cute and i can buy adorable little things for - and then send them home with their parents.

i do not want children.  i have asked numerous times to have my plumbing removed (not to be gross and cross over that TMI line, but my plumbing is all kinds of fucked up already anyway, and we're not sure that it would even work properly).  awesome husband and i have had quite a few conversations about vasectomies and tubal ligations.  (i have refused to have a tubal because they will stick a needle in my belly button.  i promish, one day there will be a post about my issue with my belly button.  awesome husband is very non-commital about the vasectomy thing.  which makes me think he does want children and will eventually leave me to have them with someone else.  but that's the crazy talking.)

plus, with the amount of drugs that awesome husband and i (but mostly him) ingested between 1992 and 2000, i can't imagine that we'd even have an actual babeh.  i'd probably give birth to a fucking fish with wings or something like that.

is that biological clock that so many women claim to hear ticking that strong?  will my hormones really try to make my brain stop paying attention and make me want to have a babeh?

honestly, i have cats.  and i know, it's not the same as having children.  but samantha just jumped up on my desk, pushed my term paper and a binder to the floor, and settled down on my pile of bills.  she keeps hitting the mouse with her tail, which she is flicking around and there is cat hair everywhere.

why would i need children?

i suppose at 30.6 years old, my biological clock has started to metaphorically tick LIKE THIS.  either i'm getting a tubal soon, or awesome husband will have to suck it up and have a vasectomy.  fun times.  fun times.

although, this does explain why i was so INTENT on getting my hermit crabs last weekend.  the nurturing urge is stepping in and making me want to expand my family.

who's got a 20-gallon aquarium for me?

blessed samhain... that's halloween to most of you.

here we are at another halloween.  another october coming to an end.  target has fucking christmastime decorations up.  already.  seriously.  i was kind of shocked/pissed when i saw them today.  i mean IT'S NOT EVEN HALLOWEEN YET technically.

so anyway, while i think halloween is pretty neat, because i like candy as much as the next person (except for awesome husband, he really doesn't like candy at all.  he doesn't cry at 'the lion king' either, and these are two examples of why i think he may be an android) and dressing up is kind of fun.  but it's not just a hallmark holiday full of candy and overpriced polyester costumes for the kids.  it's also one of our (re: neo-pagans) high holidays - samhain.  i could give you a long, interesting description of what it is and why we celebrate it, but i'm sure most of you don't care.

oh, you do?  really?

well, then, that's a different story.

neo-pagans have eight holidays spaced throughout the year.  four are at the equinoxes and the solstices, four are at right in between those.  we refer to the holidays as the wheel of the year.  each holiday that passes is like the wheel turning.  samhain is kind of like the end of our year - it's often called the witch's new year.  at samhain, we mark the death of the god.  and, yes, we have gods and goddesses, and a lot of it is kind of figurative to many neo-pagans.  the sun is very symbolic of the god (the moon of the goddess) and the days are shorter now, the sun shines less.  at samhain, the god dies and passes on - only to be reborn again at yule (the winter solstice).

i bet you'll end up hearing a bit about that as we get closer, due to my irrational dislike of people saying 'it's merry christmas NOT happy holidays' because the majority of this country is christian. 

ANYWAY.  history tells us that at this time of year, before the winter frosts moved in but after the harvests were done, many farmers would make sure they paid up all their debts - by october 31st.  so neo-pagans tend to make sure we are paid up karmically - that we don't owe anyone anything, physically or otherwise.  and of course it deals with the death of the god.  us pagans love death - because with every death there is a new beginning.  so at samhain, it's common to want to rid ourselves of things we don't want to bring into the new year.  writing bad habits on paper and tossing them into a cauldron of fire (or a barbecue pit, if you prefer) happens more often than you'd think.  many witches will work magick on samhain to help themselves overcome shit like that in the new year.  it's a time for cutting away that which is temporary and looking to the future.

actually, most of our holidays are like that.  huh.

another common tradition among pagans at samhain is to set an extra place at the table for those we've lost this year.  this is because at samhain and beltaine (may 1st - six months from now) we believe the veil between this world and the other are the thinnest - which is probably where the idea of dressing up came from.  what better way to hide them from the witches and ghosts than to dress your children up as witches and ghosts!  which means that halloween is more of a christian invention, really.  pagans didn't dress up for halloween.  personally, i actually find it a bit distasteful, but i'm a super annoying pagan rights lunatic. 

so while i will probably be handing out a few kit kats and hershey bars tomorrow, i'll also be meditating on the coming year, and the things that i will leave behind in this year.  i will look forward to the new seeds i will sow this coming spring.  we may even light up the ol' cauldron (yes, i do have one.  it's small though) and do some banishing work.  all acts of love and pleasure are her ritual - and i will know that i am of the goddess, and she keeps me as the wheel turns, and turns, and turns again.

brightest blessings for love and light in the coming year.  namaste.

a serious post about body modification.

i know, a SERIOUS post here?

sisterfromanothermister had posted on facebook about these videos, and it reminded me about how much i fucking hate them.  i hate these videos and i hate the stereotypes that accompany being modified.

for my new readers and to spark other's memories, i am modified.  i have both of my nostrils pierced, two lower lip piercings (one on each side), and my ear lobes stretched to 6g, or 4mm.  i have nine tattoos, on my upper arms, legs, back, shoulder, and neck.  one is always visible, another is usually visible.  i also have pink and orange hair.  which is awesome.  but not really considered a modification by most people.

i am going to link to both of these videos here.  the piercing one does show an actual lip piercing, so if you're super squeamish about needles, you might want to skip it.







okay.  now i will be the first to say that i think that chick has a few too many piercings on her face, but guess what?  it's not my face.  so it's not my decision.  i personally wouldn't have that many.  but i think she's beautiful and unique and being true to herself.  i think the guy with all the tattoos is amazing.  his body is truly a canvas and he too is beautiful and being true to himself.

HOWEVER the 'organization' that posted these videos is using them in an anti-binge drinking campaign with the slogan 'some people just don't know when to stop'.

so they are comparing BINGE DRINKING with HEAVY BODY MODIFICATION.

while it is true that there can be health complications with some body modification, there is no way that it is anywhere NEAR as harmful to people as binge drinking.  my piercings and tattoos do NOT directly affect anyone except me.  binge drinking can affect not only the drinker, but those around them - friends, family, etc.  and forget about if they get in a car - they are basically a fucking accident waiting to happen.

i guess i felt the need to share this for a few reasons.  one is to prove that not all modified people are the same - we are typically stereotyped into young people with psychotic disorders, young people trying to be different and/or fit in, bikers, oddballs, freaks, what have you.  many of us are mostly normal people, living the same kind of life that you are, just with a couple of extra holes in our bodies.  there is no reason to change tables and not sit near us.  i have personally experienced shit like that more times than i care to count.  at diners, awesome husband and i have been seated in the noisy teenager section, i'm sure because of how we look, and we are quiet, courteous adults who should not have to put up with that bullshit.  we too are paying customers and are capable of acting like adults instead of hyenas on fucking crack.

videos like this just do more to make modified people look more like outsiders, like we're crazy (i mean, i AM crazy, but that hasn't anything to do with my modifications) or dangerous.  it fucking EQUATES US TO BINGE DRINKERS.

let me know what you think.  i know i'm overly sensitive to shit like this, but still.  does knowing about my piercings and tattoos change how you feel about what i write?  or make you look at me in a different way?  do you find yourself looking at or treating modified people differently?  SHARING TIME!

a little more prepared for the zombie apocalypse

i finally caved on saturday and bought these zombie shoes i've been eyeing since march.  i kept telling myself 'i have no where to wear them', 'i have one dress that would match them', and 'i might kill myself or someone else trying to walk in 4" heels'. 

regardless, i now own these shoes.

iron fist zombie stomper shoes

that's right.  those are mine.  we had to go to the mall on saturday so awesome husband could buy parts for our lawn mower's tune up (right?  lawn mowers need tune ups.  this is why i have a husband.  also, he actually *mows* the lawn).  and i got this email that torrid (fave place to buy big girl clothes) was having a 50% off clearance sale.  AND some kind of promotion where you spend $50 and get a coupon for $25 off your next purchase.  so super clearance prices and free money? sign me up!

i was thinking about getting a new pair of jeans, so we checked out the clearance jeans - they were also offering $20 off full price jeans.  so i took three pairs into the changing room, and the clearance ones actually rocked the hardest.  $60 jeans for $19 - thank you.  so now i have another $31 to spend so i can get my coupon.  we checked clearance: nothing else i really wanted.  awesome husband doesn't like me in plaid, so i didn't buy one of the eight billion plaid shirts that were there.  some tops were too dressy.  eh.

then we were looking at the shoes.  damn them, those zombie shoes were on display!  i lovingly cradled the shoe, marveling at the FUCKING HIGH HEEL that i may or may not twist my ankle in.  the salesgirl comes over and asks, very innocently, 'can i help you?'

while i was tempted to say 'no, i'm beyond help' i said 'i think i'd like to try on this shoe, to see if i can stand up in it'.  a good laugh was had by all (read: me and the salesgirl.  awesome husband was probably pretending he didn't know me).  she brings it out in a 9, which is what i usually wear.  but this shoe is specifically for big girls- it's wide.  so i needed an 8.  which she didn't have... in zombie shoe.  she had it in the same shoe, different colors or something.  so i'm like, 'well, bring it out and if i like it i can order the zombie one online'.

and i thought to myself  'i probably won't.  i'll chicken out again, like i have been since march - for five months - and not buy it'. 

then she walks out with the zombie shoe in an 8.  she found it way in the corner.

so i readjusted my peds. she unwrapped the shoes for me.  i slid on the right shoe first, then the left.  and i stood up.

and was super tall.  like almost 6' tall.  and scared shitless.  i looked at awesome husband, and he was looking at the shoes.  i asked, 'how do they look?'

salesgirl says 'there's a mirror over there'.  wait - i have to WALK in these things?!?? 

so i hobble... er, walk to the mirror.  and fall in love.  they look SO FUCKING GREAT.  and i walk back to salesgirl and awesome husband, and he's like 'you can walk in them.'

me:  um, not really.  they're really fucking high.

awesome husband: how much do you walk anyway?  from the car to the table, then back to the car.

(we don't like go out clubbing or dancing.  we go out drinking or eating.  walking is not involved.)

me:  hmm...

awesome husband:  they're really cool, and you don't have to walk far in them.

me:  hmm...

awesome husband: you should get them.

me:  hmmm....

i should point out here that awesome husband rarely gives me a definite 'yes' or 'no' on whether i should purchase things.  he is honest (mostly) on whether clothing items look good or not on me, but his answer to 'should i get this?' is usually 'if you want to' or 'do you like it?'.  very non committal.  so for him to say that...

i told the sales girl i'd take them.  i felt this crazy rush of shoe-related adrenaline that carried me and my debit card to the register.  i handed over my frequent shopper card and debit card, talking about wearing the shoes the entire time.  when we got home, i showed them to mom and she was less than enthusiastic about them.  i think she thinks i might fall and break something while wearing them.  she asked, 'why are you teetering around in them?' i wanted to answer 'because they are FUCKING 4" HIGH and i usually wear flip flops' but all i said was 'the bottoms are slippery'.  our floors are tile.

i think she bought it.

now i just need to find somewhere to wear them.  awesome husband has suggested chili's.  i know he did that only because he wants two for one beers.  plus, i think they're a little awesome for chili's.

the other big news is that i finally contacted a school about getting my associates degree.  for those of you who don't know me, i never went to college.  well, i went for a few days and dropped out.  so not my scene.  but now with all this online learning and shit, i figure i can do it from home. so i'm looking to get my associates in early education.  which is ridiculous, i know, because everyone thinks i hate children.  it's not that i hate them.  i just don't want my own.  and i hate the annoying ones.

of course, i don't qualify for any government grants.  even though we don't make a ton of money, have a car payment, a mortgage payment, etc. etc. etc.  apparently you have to be near or under the poverty line to qualify for any help.  so now i have to hope that i can get loans to cover it.  or find a sugar daddy/mommy really fast who doesn't mind paying for my school without any kind of sexual favors involved.  because, hello, i'm not a prostitute.  so if you know any of those, send them my way.  because my credit is pretty much in the shitter, and i'm not feeling super great about getting approved for any kind of loan.  i hope student loans are like super easy to get.  le sigh.

and the final bit of news is that i finally sold one of my bags online!  to someone i don't know personally!  someone just saw it online and was like 'omg i heart that bag enough to pay money for it' and sent me money!  awesome!  if you want to see them, you can check rule42custom.com.

so that's my weekend in a nutshell.  i didn't really do anything except buy awesome shoes and find out that i can have a couple of drinks on my medication without dying or something.  which is nice, because i totally miss margaritas.

married.... without children

kids are great. don't get me wrong. i like kids. my friends have this absolutely adorable babeh that i absolutely love visiting with. she's super happy, well behaved, ridiculously cute, and is usually afraid of me for some reason. but she likes awesome husband, even with his terrorist beard.

well, anyway. i like kids. i have twin half sisters that were born when i was 16. my best friend's little brother was born when we were like 14 and i babysat him all. the. time. when i was little i used to help take care of my brother. i'm well versed in changing diapers, burping, dressing, bathing, putting down, playing with, and entertaining small children.

that doesn't mean i want to have any of my own. i have cats. three of them, in fact. and they take up enough of my patience... ergh, time. awesome husband doesn't want any kids. neither of us want to have our own children.

and i cannot tell you how hard it is to get other people to believe that.

it's like the only reason two adults would get married would be to procreate. um, no. there are tax breaks. and also the excuse to have a sweet party AND a vacation. seriously - my wedding day was easily one of the happiest days of my life. i got to share it with all my closest friends and family members, and awesome husband and i were able to publicly proclaim our love for each other and celebrate it with them. i know it's mushy. but it's true - and i would do it again in a heartbeat (if someone else was footing the bill).

and while there are a few reasons we got married, having children was not one. i mean, if we wanted children, there is no reason for us to have gotten married to pop one out. it's not like my uterus was under construction until we signed the marriage certificate. it was working perfectly well for the seven and a half years we dated before we married.

no matter how many times we both say 'we're not having children' to the same family members, they keep asking us about having kids. the day after we announced our engagement, one of his family members asked us when we'd start having kids. we didn't even have a date for the wedding yet! luckily, both my mother and father are fine with the no-kids idea. and i have a pretty small family, and none of them are that interested or involved in my life that they feel the need to constantly ask about my uterus and it's possible future.

but awesome husband comes from a large, over involved, loving italian family. who delight in asking us repeatedly if/when we're having children. they like to tell us about dreams they have where i'm pregnant with twins *shudder* repeatedly. we currently live in florida, and are planning a move back to our home of new york - where all the family still lives. of course, they assumed that we're coming back to new york to procreate.

le sigh.

but you get used to it. you get used to the pointed glances at your stomach during family holiday celebrations, wondering whether you gained a few more pounds or if you might be expecting. you get used to the repeated fights with your husband where you swear the next time someone asks you, you'll run from the room crying and leave him to pick up the pieces (i still have not done this... yet.)

what i can't get used to is how strangers or loose acquaintances feel the urge to not only ask about my child-having plans, but to berate me for them. yes, seriously. i had a devout catholic tell me that awesome husband and i shouldn't have sex since we're not planning on having a child. because sex shouldn't be used for pleasure, or as an act of love, but solely for procreation. so we should only have sex if we are actively trying to get pregnant.

huh.

this is one of the main reasons i don't have any friends on facebook that i don't actually know or work with.

i don't feel that there is anything missing from my life because i'm childless. i have a wonderful family, three ridiculous cats, a loving awesome husband, and friends who are dear to me. i see no reason to have to add a child to the mix to be complete. not to mention, i'm batshit crazy and having kids would probably make me even more crazy.

but anyway, not everyone gets married to have kids. and not everyone who has kids gets married. the two are not really dependent on each other. and if you happen to ask a friend or family member about having kids, and they say they're not planning on it, let it go. don't keep asking. don't say 'that's what so and so said, and now they have two kids'. don't wonder aloud who will take care of them when they're older. don't ask about the gaping hole you assume they have in their heart, or why they don't want to have kids, or if there is a problem with their bits and pieces that prohibits them from having kids.

they may be like me, and just not want kids. they may have fertility or other health issues that mean they cannot have kids. either way, you'll just be bringing up ideas or feelings or whatever that they may not want to deal with at that time.

here's an idea: worry about your own testes and ovaries. and leave ours alone. my uterus is perfectly happy, if not a bit irregular, and while it appreciates your concern, it's completely unwarranted.

como hacer empanadas, perra

okay. i'm doing the empanada post. be forewarned - i have discovered that uploading multiple photos to blogger makes me super angry, so they are all down the middle and the same size and not fancy at all. i feel badly about this, like it's bad show or something, but i really want to share my empanadas and have had a special request :D so here we go.

also, i don't really 'do' recipes so much. i do lots of estimating and shaking and tasting. enjoy!

step one: chop up an onion. chop the hell out of it. like one mediumish onion. then put it in a pan with some olive oil. or butter. maybe half and half. like a total of 1tbsp. add a pinch of kosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper.
saute those bitches until they are getting 'translucent'. which is not really possible, but that's generally the term one would use. they get less white. more pearly. browny bits on the edges. what have you.

step two: dump in some ground beef. 1/2 to 3/4 of a pound should do it. i use ground chuck - 80/20 - because that's how i roll. well, that's what was on sale this week at publix. and honestly, that IS how i roll. brown that shit up. see how it starts swimming in it's own ground beefy fat? drain it. that's nasty. gah - add more kosher salt/black pepper.
now it's been drained and it's nice and cooked. add in some garlic. i recommend at least 2 good sized cloves, chopped fine. i usually use 3 huge ass cloves, or 4 'good sized' cloves of garlic cause i fucking love garlic. yummmmmm.

step three: add a big potato, i usually get one around 3/4 of a pound. cut it into bite sized cubes, about a half an inch. oh, peel it please. i never really peel potatoes unless i'm making empanadas. also, i use basic russet potatoes. yukons would work well too, but i don't know how red or new potatoes would hang.

step forty two: add other shit to the beefy potatoey goodness. like at least 2 cups of water (you want to cover just about everything). if you desire, 4-10 shakes of tabasco sauce (we're on the 10 shakes side in this household. even mom likes it). 1.5-2tbsp of adobo. i love me some adobo seasoning. also add a half of a packet of sazon con azafran. i love my shit with azafran. (ergh... saffron.)

bring it to a boil. it should take just a few minutes, and may thicken up a bit. turn to low and simmer covered for 15-20 minutes. check after 15 to see if the potatoes are cooked through.

see how everything melds together? the potatoes are done now - if you still have a lot of extra liquid, simmer it uncovered for a few more minutes. stir occasionally.
step five... i think: i trust you have already thawed your discos... goya discos. i use the smaller ones, so i get a fuckload of itsy empanadas and can spread the deliciousness further. i also do not FULLY thaw them - i like them to still be super cold when i assemble. you'll want to roll them out a bit with a rolling pin, too - just to thin the discos out a bit. then plop a spoonful in the middle. like, two tablespoons? maybe a bit less? just go with it.

now, you don't want any of the meat & potato mixture to get close to the edges, where you will crimp and seal with a fork. keep it all in the middle or the empanadas will not seal right :/ and you will cry. so will i. also, now is a good time to preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.

step six: fill and fold discos until you have no more discos or filling, which ever comes first. if you have filling left over, eat it with a spoon while the empanadas are cooking.

step seven: melt some butter. like two tablespoonsish? and mix in the remaining half packet of sazon CON AZAFRAN. it will make an orangey buttery.... butter that you will brush on things. i like to use my fancy silicone pastry brush because it makes me feel important.

now, brush it on all your empanadas. the more butter you use, the fattier... ergh, better they will crisp up. now put them in the oven for about 20 minutes (check them after 17 to see if they are browning on the edges yet - that's when you'll want to take them out).

step by step: take them out of the oven and LEAVE THEM ALONE because they are fucking hot as all hell right now. turn off your oven and go like set the table or check for new stuff at http://rule42custom.com/.

final step: put on a plate, shake some tabasco on, and enjoy the fuck out of them. they reheat well too - i pop them in the microwave for about 20 seconds, just to warm them through, then i put them in the toaster until the very edges are a bit bubbly.

so that's mostly my empanada recipe. they're really delicious and not at all authentic. i have also added a diced tomato before and it's nice, but not necessary as far as i'm concerned. i serve them with nothing but tabasco sauce and eat at least two at a time - one is never enough. if you make these and find them as delicious as awesome husband and i do, let me know. if you make these and find them horrible, please don't blame me because i am obviously not any kind of latinish, nor colombian. i mean, potatoes i can do. i'm irish. so you KNOW the potatoes will be divine. at least there is that.

PS- i need to point out that blogger's spell check told me that i should spell AZAFRAN 'saffron'. well played, blogger. well played.

the deep, dark abyss of religion

danger! danger! it's like a warning playing through my mind as i think about writing this post. there are certain things you never EVER discuss in polite company: politics and religion.

well. guess what? two of my absolute FAVE topics are politics and religion!

with the election of president obama, the nation seems to have become even more divided than it was years ago (i didn't know this was possible). and if any of you know me, listen to me, or have read my status updates on facebook, you'll know which side of that fence i'm on.

i'm not doing politics. srsly. i promise.

i was catching up on some blogs i read regularly, and got sidetracked by comments from other readers who also whore themselves out in comments. so i click on their blog links and read. and i got sucked into a whirling vortex of atheist and open spirituality blogs.

firstly, i found out that some - NOT ALL - but some atheists are just as pushy, assholish, and annoying as fundamentalist christians. they are very rude about your belief in ANYTHING and think anyone who could possibly be stupid enough to believe in a god is basically worthless.

secondly, i found out that many atheists don't seem to be able to articulate their thoughts very well. or in an organized manner.

thirdly, i found that people who claim to be spiritually open are actually pretty set in their ways. i'd think that would mean that one is open to all spiritual ways or religions. like, you may not practice one or any of them, but you know a bit about the major ones and are pretty cool with people who worship that way.

and finally, i found out that i am way too trusting and have too much faith in my fellow wo/man. many atheists seem to have the same kind of agenda as fundamentalist christians: they want to convert me to not believing in anything. like they need to convince a christian that their soul doesn't need to be saved. um.... hmm. kind of silly. it's like they're just lashing out against being brought up in one of the big three religions (judaism/christianity/islam). so, basically just like fundies, many atheists think THEIR way is the ONLY way.

huh.

religion is a personal, private thing to most people (not so much to me any more. love me or hate me, but if you're going to base your love/hate of me on MY BELIEFS?!? then good riddance) until they have the opportunity to teach someone something. maybe it's to teach them that not all christians are fundamentalist nutjobs. maybe it's to teach them that not all muslims hate everyone else. or maybe it's to teach them that witches do not eat babies, sacrifice cats or roosters, or worship satan.

because, honestly, i haven't eaten a baby in years now. they're terrifically fatty.

also, in my defense, i did eat a painkiller earlier tonight and may or may not be rambling.

i think the best part about religion is how it makes you feel. you know what? i don't believe that jesus died for my sins. but i think it's rad that he died for yours. and i bet many of you reading this right now don't think that rocks have spirits, but i totally do.

jesus is right for you, rocks are right for me. i don't shove my rocks down your throat (ha) so don't shove your god/s down mine. this is just a loose example, of course. i would never do something like waste my rocks by shoving them down your throat.

i think the best and worst part of the interwebs is that we can all have our say, and share it with other people. that's great. where it gets fucking sucky is how we use the internet to spread hate and belittle other people's beliefs and ideas. like i'm a fan of the white house page on facebook. EVERY FUCKING COMMENT that is left is super anti-obama. and like, great, that's your prerogative and your RIGHT as an american. but seriously? i joined because i dig all the sort of behind-the-scenes photos. that's it. i don't want to get sucked into reading your fundie bullshit. but i do. you know how that is - you swear you're just going to look at ONE PICTURE of a hedgehog in an ice cream cone (http://icanhascheezburger.com/2009/02/01/funny-pictures-licks-me-i-dare-ya/ - thanks chelsea) and then three and a half hours later, you've been through i can has cheezeburger, fail blog, there i fixed it, and most of engrish.

it's the same thing with those comments. i get sucked in and feel the need to tell people that i just want to look at the fucking pictures, if you want to argue and hate on gays and spout your biblical knowledge, find an appropriate venue to do such, and let me look at a photo of bo.

cause he's super cute.

but not as cute as that fucking hedgehog.