A Lament

I have written a serious one. It lacks the visceral horror of a chicken crawling with staphylococcus, and I figured you'd be happy about that; still, it's not the usual devil may care, mis-punctuated mess you see here.

Suffer.

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Well, my darlings, it's been a long year. This one has been full of insights. I'll spare you that saga and just go on to say that I've gotten a lot of 'me' work done. 

 Now I'm ready to crawl back out of my ass, stop isolating, and rejoin the world of people made of meat.
The ones you see in cars and stores that you can touch, if you want, but you shouldn't.

Them.

One of the realizations I had while I was rebuilding myself as an old woman was: I'm really peculiar.

Also: When it comes to real people made of meat, I only want fond acquaintances, not bosom friends. Not right now.
Maybe not ever.

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People seem to have a set way they deal with little old ladies. I've discovered that as long as I keep on twinkling, I'm the sweetheart of Sigma Elderly. Doors are held for me, beers are comped, flirting is done (and it's really ridiculous and uncomfortable, cis men, so please stop) and kindly allowances are made.

And I have learned how to negotiate this. As long as I'm not holding up a process or getting in the way; as long as I restrict myself to a very restrained version of 'Feisty Old Lady' I am coddled. I become a mascot. I've been a mascot in every pot shop I've ever patronized, in fact, and it kind of rules, to be honest. They give you free shit.

But that isn't real.

I want friends. People who hang out with you in your neighborhood, that you can make coffee for. 

I'd love to know someone who could offer me good conversation. Someone who can brainstorm a subject, who gets carried away by crazes, who can tell me new things and laugh.

Now me, of course, I'm overfuckingloaded with good conversation. Are you looking for someone who can offer you good conversation? Step right the fuck up. I am interesting as hell! I know lots of shit! I am your ultimate Trivia Night team member!

And that's half my problem, is that I like so many things, and that so many things are so interesting and tremendous and overwhelming to me that I have to fight down the urge to barf it all over my interlocuter, and I fail, and that person panics and leaps through the nearest window to their death.

And who can blame them?

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Then there are the Senior Moments.

You get comfortable living with yourself. You lay aside all the posturing and signaling you had to learn as an adult person. Now you are an old person. So you relax.

You scratch where it itches.

Not a whole lot phases you, or surprises you, so you come off as stolid. But it's just that you've been there and done that and the lesson is learned. Someone tells me about how flamboyantly their love life has been destroyed, and you go 'Yup..................." because, well, yup.

You get lost deep in contemplation. You fall into a flow state and narrate your adventures aloud as they happen. In one recent senior episode I was contemplating the error of all flesh in a particular location, and I said aloud 'Yeah RIGHT, you cheating goddamn fuck,' and tottered on, leaving a very confused girl in kitty cat glasses in my wake.

It's really like this.

I am the unnerving old lady with resting bitch face that I used to dread when I was young.

I am that old person now.

Shit.

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So tell me, my friends. What's it been like for you? And feel free to write long replies, or make a post about it, because I am intensely interested in your answers.

Some of you are social butterflies. Some of you are recluses. Some of you are out there living it as real as you can day by day. Have you noticed the shift? Have you noticed the way the world grows older but you stay the same?

What do you do to make friends these days?



























And for God's sake don't tell me 'Well I don't know, I just go about my day, I've never noticed a thing' because COME THE FUCK ON PEOPLE.
















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(OK fine. If there are any young people here, which....damn...but if there are any of you, just hang back. THIS IS YOUR FUTURE CUPCAKE)

The Rock And Pool is Nice and Cool....

 

This year it's The Bikers turn to do Christmas, and he has been an uncontrollable BEAST making menus and creating recipes this past couple of months.

We live on Puget Sound, between the Lummi reserve and the Marietta reserve, and we have access to the most astounding fresh, wild grown, wild caught salmon on the planet. To make it that much better the families who lay out the nets here process their catch the old fashioned way - split up the belly and laid on alder poles, smoked over alder chips for a week.

The Biker brought home a slab of local alder smoked salmon this morning.

Oh. My. God. Let us close the curtains on this scene of gluttony and abandon.

Fuck you, Norway. Fuck you, Scandanavian countries. Eat shit, Russia.  My Christmas Eve was the envy of the world!

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I love you all, my little droogies. All of you have made my life brighter this past year. I hope I have been able to offend and appall you to whatever degree was therapeutic. Rock the fuck on, my babies.

Now go be pagan and set fires and be naked and do crimes!

Brillo Alameda For Water District #8

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I Was Moved To Poetry

I was moved to poetry, and you reap the benefits. 

Enjoy.

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SOMEONE HAD A VISION

Someone had a vision.
A vision, and a very heavy accent.




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DAY DRINKING

You need to know what's on tap here at the El Apartmento. 

I can tell. Don't lie.

Kulshan:  Bastard Kat

Ten Barrel Brewing:  All Ways Down

Lagunitas: Little Sumpin' Sumpin'

Pelican Bay: Hazy IPA, Kiwanda, Beak Breaker

North Fork:  Porter, Scotch Ale, ESB (nitro),  Son of Toad

Excellent clean straightforward beers

All of them local

All with stupid names.

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I AM A GROWN WOMAN DAMMIT

 

Jesus Christ look at the list of beers I like. 

It's up there ^^^

Look at all those stupid fucking names. 

What was wrong with Olympia? 

Olympia.

That's a great name for a beer.  

Tactical Nuclear Penguin is not. 

Soft Dookie is not. 

Septic Weeping Cyst is not. 

Don't make me have to say that to a bartender.

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WTF AMERICA

WTF America fruity beer. 

Why do you think I want fruity fucking beer.

Ew. 

It's not beautiful or appropriate. 

I mean Honestly People 

who wants raspberry kiwi beer. 

Why is there grapefruit beer

Why is there coffee beer

Who wants this swill

People who have too many cats and think it's edgy is who. 

Underage wannabes who vape is who.

What does this say about us as a people America.

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MEET THE McRECTANGLE

Ask Your Bartender For These Fine FirstNations Brands:

Sit On My Hand

Septicaemia 

Green Orifice

More Than Ten Cockroaches

Breathalyzer

Dangly Flaps

Ted Nugent

Oh Look A Dead Bird

Rugose Cone

C Student

Foetus

Certified (IPC Standard 1945)

El Apartmento Brewing

Bellingham WA

I Have A Yeast Infection

Kegs To Go

Abigale Von Crossword Toulouse!!

 UP FROM THE ASHES OF DEFEAT! 

BEHOLD!!!!

THE BEST LOAF OF BREAD I HAVE EVER MADE 

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

And it's like that!  That's how it goes! The stars aligned, I set a damn timer, and changed pan style. That's all I did differently!  

 

Thadia Formus 8 Veal Slab

 I share my failures so that you may learn from them:

Yes. There is parchment stuck in it. I know.

      I've been turning out nice symmetrical, loaf-shaped loaves for a few months now, and then this^^^happens.  

What went wrong?  I left it rising for too long. Totally forgot about it all day long. It looked nice and tall, though, and I thought 'No harm done!  I can just stick this in the oven!" and so I did; and the instant it went in it must have started to deflate.

What I should have done: 

1.PAID ATTENTION TO THE TIME  

2. Barring that, given the dough another quick kneading and let it rise in the pan again - then baked it. 

Now here is a tall loaf done correctly, all smiling and happy in the oven.

       ...so you see, I am capable of doing it right. 

Ignore the dirty oven. IGNORE IT.

 I'll say it again:  making bread is about feel. Accept the learning process and aim toward GREATNESS!!

After all, even your worst failures can be turned into bread pudding, croutons, and crumbs.       

 

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At THIS Late Date?

 Well it happened. Someone flagged my blog again.  And seriously, what the actual fuck? The cows are already out of that barn, ya know?

                 Go ahead and try to make them go back in the barn. Ha! You can't! Cow Freedom!                                                                          *wild cheering*

I highly suspect that any flagging done was accomplished by a bot of some kind because I'm getting notices to enable the 'Adult Content' feature - something I've had up for years! 

 ...if you're real, and you're out there, tender reader, sweet dove, and it's only just freakin' now shot through that you've been wading through a cesspit here at Steve, then you deserve every single ounce of discomfort you've experienced. 

                                                         ...on the subject of discomfort. 

Is this your 'dirty little secret' read? And why wait until now to give me the flag? Was it because Trump got elected?  Did your SA catch you looking up a special decoration for your car?  Or do you see yourself as a latter-day digital righter of wrongs, you clever little moral superhero you? 

I've already dealt with one pisspot saint - someone who hung out here through the years, from Paul to Steve, through the descriptions of childrens birthday parties, sauce making, fist fucking, erotic cannibalism, cavemen having sex with animals and so forth, someone who commented frequently, and who was always to be found on the 'explicit content' blogs.  I met this person in real life, and that was...a thing that happened.  It's very odd to meet someone who has absolutely no use for you whatsoever - but who adores everything about you that fits their idea of what a soul lost to God looks like. It's also very uncomfortable to be standing there realizing that they have no idea whatsoever that what they're laying on you is anything but God's tolerance and mercy. Very awkward visit. Had to get a burger later. 

I guess yeah, I could  I stop putting out the appalling, vulgar fart-humor content I do so well, but then I wouldn't be having any fun; and I don't do this for any other reason than to screw around and have fun and bullshit with different people around the world who know how to appreciate a short video about a Sasquatch giving birth in a tree.

Unfortunately it's the grossaroni shocko stuff that also pulls in the religious weirdos. And here's the thing, religious weirdos: you don't get it. Don't be here. 

Anyone who keeps coming back day after day is not on the lookout for souls to save, or sins to be suppressed. You're on the lookout for titillation. You get your fix, run hide behind God, and tell yourself what a good little Christian Soldier you are to be resisting temptation -over and over again.  If you had a real problem with what I do here, you'd have visited once and then split for good - so suck on that the next time you come here and see a pronghorn antelope licking its own dick.

Because there is always going to be a picture of a pronghorn antelope licking its own dick here. Rely on it.