With thieves I consort,
With the vilest, in short,
I'm quite easy in depravity,
Yet all divines use me,
and savants can't lose me,
For I am the center of gravity.
What am I?
Did you see this? I swear I wouldn't recognize the man ... if it weren't for the swastika. The face is weary, the madness sheathed in sadness. He looks like someone who'd wander into the bar at 8am and order a PBR after spending the night at the shelter.http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/03/19/california.manson.photo/index.html
I get a ride home, count my money and go to sleep beside my kitty, Iris. Christine goes home to her two young daughters. One of whom is albino.
She's recently sent me these links detailing the killings of people with albinism in Africa. It's become increasingly common. It seems they are seen as ominous symbols of misfortune. Through their massacre and dismemberment, one may receive lucky charms and, it is believed, much good fortune.
Sign the petition to stop the killing in Tanzania here:
So I got to eat at the White Castle burger chain twice on my recent eight-day, seven-state road trip to Cincinnati, and while the experience was satisfying during the eating part, it didn't really hold up "long-term" if you get my drift. Plus, both White Castles were fucking filthy. How hard is it to clean up the joint?
One other thing: as I was exiting the White Castle in Cincinnati, I saw a plaque commemorating the chain's 80 years in the Queen City. Kinda hard to give it "regional" status when it's been someplace else for 80 effin' years. Hell, I just found out at wikipedia that it was founded in Kansas. Say, what?!?
You responded as a right-brained person to 3 questions, and you responded as a left-brained person to 15 questions. According to the Hemispheric Dominance test, you use your left brain the most.
Type of Cognitive Processing:
Linear: Processing information from part to whole; in a straight forward logical progression
Sequential: Processing information in order from first to last.
Symbolic: Processes symbols an pictures; likes to use letters, words and mathematical symbols.
Logical: Processes information piece by piece using logic to solve a problem.
Verbal: Processes thoughts and ideas with words.
Reality-Based: Processes information based on reality; focuses on rules and regulations.
Here's a recipe for the beloved Haggis of Scotland. In addition to the other naughty (read 'delectable') bits, the lungs are traditionally included in Scotland, but are omitted in the States as it's illegal to sell lungs in the U.S. Jerky is okay here. Celine Dion records are legal. But lungs are off limits. Some folks also think that liver shouldn't be used ... but, heck, if you're down with eating organs and innards what's the difference?
1 sheep's lung (illegal in the U.S.; may be omitted if not available)
1 sheep's stomach
1 sheep heart
1 sheep liver
1/2 lb fresh suet (kidney leaf fat is preferred)
3/4 cup oatmeal (the ground type, NOT the Quaker Oats type!)
3 onions, finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 cup stock
Wash lungs and stomach well, rub with salt and rinse. Remove membranes and excess fat. Soak in cold salted water for several hours. Turn stomach inside out for stuffing.
Cover heart and liver with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Chop heart and coarsely grate liver. Toast oatmeal in a skillet on top of the stove, stirring frequently, until golden. Combine all ingredients and mix well. Loosely pack mixture into stomach, about two-thirds full. Remember, oatmeal expands in cooking.
Press any air out of stomach and truss securely. Put into boiling water to cover. Simmer for 3 hours, uncovered, adding more water as needed to maintain water level. Prick stomach several times with a sharp needle when it begins to swell; this keeps the bag from bursting. Place on a hot platter, removing trussing strings. Serve with a spoon. Ceremoniously served with "neeps, tatties and nips" -- mashed turnips, mashed potatoes, nips of whiskey.
I suggest you'll need several rather large nips of whiskey.
We tivo'd the Inauguration since my son was going to be at school and we didn't get to watch it until later in the evening, right after some delicious bangers and mash. Anyway, I got to watch some pre-pre-pre event stuff while Emiliano was getting ready for school on NBC, and while it was as stupid and vacuous as one would expect (what was up with the balding White dude apologizing left and right--mostly right--for W all about, anyway?) it was still cool seeing that many people that geeked about politics. However, I spent most of my very limited time trying to control my gag reflex everytime some talking head would mewl on and on about "a new day" for race. In my most cynical way, I couldn't help but running my factoid loop about the incredibly high increase in gun sales right after a Black man got elected to the presidency. New day my ass.
And sure, I kept snorting derisively every time somebody (everybody) mentioned MLK, but I have to admit I almost started bawling when Aretha took the stage and started singing and the true ramifications of what this election/day meant for me--a person of color--sank in. Of course, it didn't stop me from clowning the rainbow coalition orchestral piece (Jew...check. Black...check. Asian...check. Latino(or some other swarthy group)...check) that was doing a piece by one of the worst composers known to man. Weak!
Anyways, I wasn't surprised when the President thanked the ass for his service to his country, but I was pretty impressed when he continued on to rake that fucker over the coals. It wasn't nearly on the level of the Colbert/Bush smackdown at the press corp dinner, but it wasn't far from it. To be honest, I felt the acceptance speech was far more powerful (and forthright) but this wasn't too shabby. And, I have no doubt that the guy has the smarts to get the right people into the right jobs working towards the right solutions to the right problems.
So, maybe it's a new day after all.
Unfortunately much of the rest of the film doesn't quite measure up to the opening.
Lolita (1962): The first 10 minutes of the movie
Humbert Humbert, a divorced British professor of French literature, travels to small-town America for a teaching position. He llows himself to be swept into a relationship with Charlotte Haze, his widowed and sexually famished landlady, whom he marries in order that he might pursue the woman's 14-year-old flirtatious daughter, Lolita, with whom he has fallen hopelessly in love, but whose affections shall be thwarted by a devious trickster named Clare Quilty.