taco shop psychic
mincing is for garlic, not words...

Sunday, June 30, 2002  

117. quasi-political: Today, A Decent Day.

I didn't really do a whole lot. I pestered someone, and that was kind of distracting, but I think the overall result of that was good. I'm feeling so good, I'm looking around corners waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Being this content should be illegal. I can't even find any stupid liberal things to debunk (at least not the ones that would be cheap shots), although I may have to lay low on political things the next few days. I really did not think that nearly nine-tenths of the country was so enamored with the butchery of our money and the pledge of allegiance to attempt to subvert our money and patriotic oaths into prayers. I hate being wrong. Oh well, it's certainly not the first time and won't be the last either.

I don't know how it is for other anti-"under God" folks, but I really didn't care before the whole uproar happened. Now I too want to see governmental things that have over time been corrupted with religion scoured of all the offending references. It's something else if the religious reference was designed into the governmental work and the people or their representatives knew what they were getting from the get go.

It's kind of like our reaction to the International Criminal Court. The division between church and state in America is near-sacred, but like water, religion can seep in through the cracks of the ship of state's hull. While there currently are safeguards in the ICC against politically-motivated prosecutions, we have no illusions that those things can't be changed at some later date to make political prosecutions possible. We also think that if enough parties agree, those safeguards can be outright ignored. There is little protection for America in an International Criminal Court, especially with so many world powers Janus-faced about the need of some dirty work to be performed with the lack of cultural fortitude to do it themselves.

posted by Tacoshop | 10:59 PM

116. Alright, So We're Weird.

A whole lotta people can't wrap their heads around the concept that my girlfriend and I plan to split up. (No date yet, by the way.) We've divvied up a lot of the 'who gets what' stuff, and since there's pretty sharp delineation between her stuff and my stuff, that's not too hard. Spaz and Bear are hers, as are the birds, the truck, just about all of the televisions, et cetera. I think she wants the black futon too, not a problem. I forget who gets the bed, I think she does.

We've actually done this once before, kind of half-heartedly. The thing is that not only have we grown apart, we both want to leave Seattle for different places. She wants to move to Utah, I want to move to Germany. She won't do Germany, I won't do Utah. It's that simple. It doesn't mean we are going to hate each other or lose touch. It just means we will no longer be an item. Hopefully, that helps some of you understand a bit. It seems totally natural to us to do it this way.

posted by Tacoshop | 2:02 PM

Saturday, June 29, 2002  

115. Well, This Feels Weird

I feel strange. There are some odd goings on in my head. It feels like contentment. It feels like a switch was thrown and now I can accept some things a bit better.

I wonder how long it will last. I'd better enjoy it while I've got it, eh?

I think a lot of it had to do with a lot of thinking I've been doing about the two women in my life and my lack of a job. I decided with regards to me that I would not want to be in my best friend's shoes and that I've probably been doing her a great disservice as a friend these last few months. I can do better as one, I'm pretty certain. The only problem is that I'm not sure she's talking to me right now, as she's not returned email or phone calls for a week. On the other hand, she is really busy, but if she is mad at me for some of the things I've said/done recently, I certainly wouldn't blame her! It also would be a good ilustration of "be careful what you wish for". That's ok, though. Our friendship is strong and we've survived much worse than me being wishy-washy.

posted by Tacoshop | 7:49 PM

Friday, June 28, 2002  

114. recipe: Chad's Tequila Lime Chicken and Salsa

I got a lot of rave reviews for this recipe this past weekend. I'm told that the salsa is quite hot, but I wanted to add more habanero.

Chad's Tequila Lime Chicken:

I started with the Pepper-Lime Chicken recipe on p. 387 of the current edition of the Better Homes and Garden New Cookbook. I fudged a bit on the ingedients and added Tequila. My ingredients list looks like this:

2 to 2.5 lbs. meaty chicken pieces
3 limes
1 tbsp. cooking oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp dried thyme, crushed
Quarter-teaspoon salt
Other seasonings
8 - 12 oz. tequila

(Notes on ingredients: My grocery sells a 'grill package' of chicken, which just means that it has the breast, thighs and wings of a whole bird. I used that and didn't bother to skin the bird, as BHG called for. The original recipe calls for a half-teaspoon finely shredded lime peel and 2 oz. of lime juice, which I felt was low, hence I use three limes. I also use twice as much garlic as the original recipe. Basil can be substituted for the thyme. Finally, the BHG recipe doesn't contain tequila and I substituted 'other seasonings' for the cracked black pepper.)

In a large container (big enough to hold all the chicken pieces, maybe a casserole dish or a stock pot), shred the peels of the lime (I used a cheese grater for this) until limes are white. Squeeze lime juice into container, discard limes. Add the remainder of the ingredients, chicken last, with the meatier side of the chicken pieces toward the bottom of the container. Use a basting brush to spread tequila mixture over the exposed parts of chicken and let this set for a while (I did four hours) periodically rebasting the bird.

Put pieces of chicken on grill, roast until done. Cover with salsa.

Chad's Salsa:

6 roma tomatoes, diced
6 jalapenos, diced and deseeded
1 habanero (heh-heh-heh), diced and deseeded
sherry vinegar
fresh cilantro, chopped
half of a medium-sized yellow onion, diced

Coat the bottom of a stock pot with the vinegar, maybe to about a quarter-inch depth. Dice the tomatoes and onion to about a quarter-inch to half-inch size. Dice the peppers as small as you can. The amount of cilantro is up to you, I used the leaves from a bunch that was about as big around as my girlfriend's cat's neck. (Not my girlfriend's neck, mind you.) Throw all the ingredients into the vinegar, and let them soak for a few minutes. Drain vinegar and replace with water, and if needed, adjust the vinegar and water to taste.

posted by Tacoshop | 4:02 PM

113. political: How Stupid

So while you were all enraged over the Ninth Circuit ruling that reciting the Pledge of Allegiance is unconstitutional, the Supreme Court has rather quietly fucked our public schools, not once but twice. But no one seems to care, because they're wrapped around the axle over the words 'under God' that appear now, but didn't appear originally, in a 19th-century advertising gimmick originally penned by a socialist.

While all that was going on, the news tried to tell you that the Supreme Court has decided that your taxes can now go to fund private schools and that a school district can compel drug tests upon students that want to participate in extracurricular activities. Personally, I am much more worried about the former than the latter. I'm betting the ruling will have a deleterious effect on extracurricular activities (if there is a rush by school districts to test kids), which will then cause more of them to have more time than they really need and their drug usage will go up. But the problem is that no one will be paid to care anymore because the money the school wanted to use for anti-drug awareness found it's way into the church, or worse yet, the private school administrator's shiny new SUV. How many years before we see this scandal? I mean, c'mon! After the recent church scandals, WorldCom, Global Crossing and Enron, how long will it be until we start hearing of private school administrators living in million dollar homes? Can we really trust the church with our kids and our money?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the guy (and his daughter, if one report in the blogosphere is correct) that started the lawsuit is receiving death threats from many of the good Christians that are offended by the original court decision -- before the Nixon appointed justice caved in and put an unnecessary hold on the ruling (it was unnecessary because the verdict itself allowed six weeks for appeal before enforcement was to begin -- an appeal that would have surely borne fruit). I cannot think of a greater testimonial to his cause than that of the good religious folk threatening his life and possibly the life of his daughter. How can we possibly now not have a first-hand understanding of the motivations of Usama bin Laden and his worthless ilk?

If nothing else, it has shown the lie that the pledge is. "...One nation, indivisible..." my dying ass.

posted by Tacoshop | 6:01 AM

112. Trespasser.

That's what I feel like when I read this.

posted by Tacoshop | 4:59 AM

111. Ally, the Basement Cat.

Because Bink asked...

I tried for quite some time (at least a year) to integrate Ally into the little cat society upstairs with absolutely no luck. I wound up having to take her to the vet because Majik shredded her so badly we were afraid (maybe a bit paranoid, I'm not sure it was as bad as we thought at the time) we'd have to have her tail amputated. (All is well now though with Ally's rear end, but I had to squirt antibiotic cream into the cavities Majik opened in the layers of her skin for about a week that time.) To give you an idea, Majik regularly beats the hell out of the dog, a pit bull mix. She doesn't know about American Pit Bulls, doesn't know of their brutal reputations and probably wouldn't care if she did. Luckily for her, the dog's a coward, but I'm not sure it would matter if he wasn't -- she'd probably still attack him.

But Ally does not like to be upstairs, and she is a wholly different cat than the one I know from downstairs. In the basement, she is cute and loving and purring and rubs against you and talks to you. She is the quintessential cute kitty -- in the basement.

Upstairs, she's a banshee. The only entity that can get near Ally upstairs is Spaz, and that's not a given. She gets fed up with Spaz fairly quickly. Should you catch Ally, she extends all of her claws and digs them into you to try to get traction to go over your shoulder. If you can't hold on to her she goes off of you shoulder, usually taking several chunks out of you in the process. After she runs away, you can always find her at the basement door, pleading to be let downstairs. If you can hang onto her, she yells and growls until you let her go, whereupon she runs for the basement door.

I know it sounds bad to keep the poor scared kitty in the damp dark basement all alone, but that's not exactly true. I sleep in the basement with the kitty -- my bed moved there after my girlfriend tossed me out of the bedroom for snoring -- and my desktop, when it works, is down there. So me and the kitty hang out fairly frequently. As far as that goes, Majik actually gets the lowest amount of human time in the house, at least until my brother returns from Seoul. And they don't have the best relationship, because he's not exactly a regular hours keeper, so sometimes he's up at 3AM and sometimes he's not. This confuses poor Majik, who will stand there and yell at him while he's trying to sleep because she wants petting. I think it's cute, he doesn't see it that way.

I know that the problem here is Majik, but there is absolutely no one who'd take her, and despite the problems with Ally, I'm not interested in giving her up. We got Majik when she was 2, and we were her third home. I got her as owner number two was taking her to the pound to be put down because she was too aggressive. That person was a former co-worker, and I happened to call her asking a question about a type of computer that day. She was glad to hear from me, as she knew my house was Majik's last hope, and she had lost my phone number.

So I am not going to abandon either of them, and they both are my cats. They just don't want to share. And if Ally ever realizes she's almost as big as the other two cats put together, Majik will be in a world of hurt.

posted by Tacoshop | 4:32 AM

110. Curiosity Got the Best of Me.

I reinstalled a webcounter. I'm sooo ashamed! >sob<

I see all these people post Google searches on their blogs and I'm curious how people are coming here. I'll probably get bored with it and pull it down in a week or three.

posted by Tacoshop | 3:55 AM

109. I Hardly Recognize the Place.

Here's a nice essay on Frankfurt. Most of the taller buildings are new to me.

posted by Tacoshop | 3:02 AM

108. Friday Five.


posted by Tacoshop | 2:47 AM

Wednesday, June 26, 2002  

107. Untitled.

Why untitled? Because I'm not talking about it. About what? The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals thing today. If it was the Fourth Circuit, then it would be news, but it's not. It's the circuit that contains two of the three most liberal liberal arts colleges in the country.

posted by Tacoshop | 10:48 PM

106. *yawn*...*stretch*

It's like getting up from the longest nap ever. I took my brother to the airport yesterday so he could fly back home to Seoul (an alien concept to me, Seoul being 'home') for the summer. As a result, I have unfettered access to his computer for five weeks. Weeee!

A. Tuesday Too, Revisited

Because of lack of computer time yesterday, I copped out on this. The question was about consciousness and how I think. The appropriate words to describe my thinking are: scattered, paranoid, and linear. My best friend, Wilma, also likes to throw in that I'm overanalytical. I realize that those don't seem to necessarily jibe, so I'm going to (try to) explain them.

Scattered. There are very few people I know that I can't accuse of this, at least at sometime or other. It tends to happen to some people more than others, and there are medical causes for certain occurrences of it. I have no idea...(well, that's not true, I do have an idea) on why I'm scatterbrained, and it usually takes the form of forgetting people I've met, not being able to remember faces, names, things I've said and the last place I put my glasses. It used to really bother me, but these things now happen so often, I just don't even try to remember them, which seems to only make it worse, but screw it. If I tell you something, write it down. Keep an eye out for my glasses. Don't be offended when I don't remember who you are or what your name is. Finally, I'm sorry that I don't seem to care that I've forgotten who you are, but quite frankly, I have other things to worry over.

Paranoid. Not everything or everyone is out to get me. Just most of them. I easily get paranoid that I've offended people (the ones that I can remember) with something I've said or done. This causes me great amounts of problems, and is a trend that even manifests with people I only know from dealing with them on the Internet. Unlike forgetting people, this one I wish I could change.

I however am not so paranoid as to think that every little dealing with people that doesn't go my way is a deliberate slight against me. I went to dinner with someone once that did this over the table we were offered by the waitress, (way out of the way, near no one else in a half-full restaurant and in the very back). I pointed out to him that a far more logical explanation was that these were the tables that she was responsible for serving and we very well may have been her only responsibility. It would have been a different matter if the host had seated us, or told her to seat us where she did, but since he asked her to do it as he was on the phone, she was most likely just after a tip.

And that last part is an example of my linear thinking.

B. Speaking of Wilma...

Desiree queried, somewhat rhetorically I think, if there isn't a person everyone carries a torch over for a lost or an unrequited love, as I do for Wilma. I kind of took that to mean that I'm really no different than anyone else and I should quit bitching and get on with it (well, if she meant that, she probably didn't mean it quite so harshly -- or hell, maybe she did). I suspect there is someone like that for most people. The problem is that this one is my best friend. If it were just some woman that I fell for and lost contact with, or only had minor contact with over the last fifteen years, that would be a whole other matter and I could see how my infatuation would be extremely unhealthy (not that it's 'healthy' in it's current form). As her best friend, I have to do all sorts of best friendish things, like give her an ear and maybe some advice from time to time, especially on affairs of the heart. Let me tell you, I have had two wisdom teeth removed without benefit of novocaine, and I (were it possible) would gladly face this pain a hundred more times than to ever give Wilma advice on dealing with whatever silliness her signifigant other, or ex-signifigant other may be pulling on her at any given time. Often, I have to clamp down on a flying rage directed at the other men in her life because I have to assess if this is the appropriate response a best friend should have or if I am just being a jealous, overprotective, jilted wannabe suitor. So, for example, when I heard from her that her previous boyfriend was giving her so much trouble that she had to change the locks on her house, I very calmly advised her to seek legal counsel, all the time ignoring the screaming and yelling going on inside my head telling me to get a gun, get my machete and drive to Oregon to teach the bastard a lesson. The yelling in my head lasted a good three days, and probably the only thing that saved the guy was that I have no desire in becoming another in a long list of the crackpot crazies in this country that listen to their voices yelling in their heads.

I feel very trapped in this. I can't move one direction, into an other-than-best-friend relationship with her because that's not what she wants, and I can't stop being her friend because she says that would destroy her. Keeping the status quo, on the other hand, is destroying me, but since I swore long ago that I would do anything, up to and including the impossible for her, I stay. And while that stupid decision is mine, it doesn't mean I can't inflict my tale of personal stupidity on you. I hate suffering in silence.

It also throws me into horrible guiltfests. I feel guilty because I view myself as a failure. I failed in the chance(s) I had to become romantically linked with her in the past, and because I continue to second-guess myself, I fail at being her best friend. She really deserves much better than I give. The most tragic thing is that I also fail my girlfriend, who deserves the love, affection and emotion that I'm directing somewhere else. My girlfriend also deserves the truth, but I'm too chickenshit to sit her down and tell her just how I've failed her, even though I strongly suspect she already knows. She and my brother both remarked to friends of ours just how uncharacteristic I've acted regarding Wilma's new beau, in that I've not come out and said that I thought he was bad for her or how much I hated him, or something along those lines.

Getting back to paranoia, I often feel that Wilma wants the presence of two men in her life: one to administer to her worldly wants and needs and the other to be her emotional base. Well, probably she wants that in just one man but is a realist and knows that a fellow like that is rare. So she has me to fill the last half of her manly requirements and cycles through men to fit the first half until she finds someone that she can get results from and won't stray from her. The problem is, I've discovered, that I cannot divide my emotional output among multiple women. It's all or nothing, and Wilma was first. Any woman I am ever romantically involved with cannot hope to achieve the same status in my life that she has. After my girlfriend and I split up next year, I am probably going to avoid romantic entanglements from then on simply because it's not worth the guilt.

posted by Tacoshop | 5:34 PM

Tuesday, June 25, 2002  

105. Tuesday Too.


posted by Tacoshop | 3:34 AM

Monday, June 24, 2002  

104. Fremont Street Fair.

It seems that this was a cosmic weekend for many. I've read several blogs where people did all kinds of fun things this weekend, such as 'break alternator braces', 'fly home' and 'get nekkid'. I've done each of these at some time in my life, so I can definitely relate. I had an interesting Saturday with my best friend and her new boyfriend, but I'm not blogging about that as it left me somewhat depressed. Yesterday however, my girlfriend and I strolled with the dog down the hill to the Fremont Fair to watch the art cars go by.

They never went by. We were at the wrong end of the Fair. We did ultimately find them and saw some old friends of ours -- my gf and I used to do this, and were the inspiration of at least one somewhat major Seattle car artist.

We ran into another old friend of ours, and since at least two painters frequent this site, I decided to introduce her work to you. She has been the inspiration of many car artists, including my gf and me -- and probably a few traditional artists as well. I'm now quite red.

Other thoughts: Why is The Powerpuff Girls Movie rated PG? I think the PPG are filling a cartoon niche left vacant by the defanging, over time, of Bugs Bunny. Strangely, I have become quite the fan of PPG, Buttercup is my fav.

Laptop still broked.

posted by Tacoshop | 6:34 AM

Friday, June 21, 2002  

103. Friday Five.


posted by Tacoshop | 6:26 PM

102. Germany v. United States

Right now, it's the start of the second half, and Germany has the game's only goal. I've played, coached and refereed soccer (translation for Gert, et al: football) and a few things have struck me about this game. During the interview with the American assistant coach at the half, he said, "...we knew restarts were very important to them..."

I'm glad it's not just me that has noticed that Germany, while a top-notch team, may be the most divingest team I've ever seen play in a World Cup match. Oh well, no doubt we probably do play a bit on the rough side for them, as it seems wild physical gyrations are a hallmark of CONCACAF (at least to me).

I expect the Germans will win, but then I am quite the pessimist. Nonetheless, if we play as well in the second half as we did the first, it will be a great game.

I wonder what form the worldwide angst will take if/when we ever do win the whole shebang.

posted by Tacoshop | 5:43 AM

Thursday, June 20, 2002  

101. Tuesday Too.


posted by Tacoshop | 3:42 AM

Thursday, June 13, 2002  

100. Sporadica.

I had wanted to mark my 100th post on my blog here with an earth-shattering, mind-bending and epiphanal post. No such luck.

This post is to let everyone know that my surfing, and hence any blogging I might do or read is for the near term seriously curtailed, as my laptop broke.


posted by Tacoshop | 11:39 AM

Tuesday, June 11, 2002  

99. More Surfing...

This is too, too... something.

Swiss cheese has holes.

Everyone please look here and keep your eyes open elsewhere as well.

posted by Tacoshop | 1:36 PM

98. Tuesday Too.

Of revolution and labels, is here.

posted by Tacoshop | 9:33 AM

Monday, June 10, 2002  

97. Surfing the Net...

I found Beckybot.

And DITY solar power.

And whateverthehellthisis.

But this is the most interesting thing I've seen in a long time.

posted by Tacoshop | 12:44 PM

Sunday, June 09, 2002  

96. OK, Fine.

The important information: It's a Pentax Spotmatic from 1964-6 timeframe, rare black-body with original Takumar f1.4 50mm lens.

posted by Tacoshop | 11:39 PM

95. You like'm pictures?

Photographs. Snapshots.

posted by Tacoshop | 4:18 PM

Friday, June 07, 2002  

94. What the Hell Am I Going to Title This Post?

I was out rowing in my stupid little polyvinyl chloride boat yesterday and it struck me that I was going to be called regarding a job. Just out of the blue, bam I'm getting a phone call today. Naturally, I immediately dismissed the thought as frivolous wishful thinking.

Three hours later, I got a phone call.

As I am typing this, I have shirts in the wash so I can pull out the best-looking one, whatever that is going to be, to go with my suit. I may have to take a picture of myself in it. I got the requisite haircut, and once the shirts go into the dryer I'll try to trim my beard into something elegant looking, but most likely will just wind up shaving it off. I suck at trimming.

So now the voice that I hear in my head is telling me that I'm going to blow the interview. The problem is, that may not be the voice of intuition, or psychic ability, or guardian angels or what-have-you, it just may be the voice of doubt and self-loathing. They sound remarkably similar and I have a hard time sorting them out.

When I hear a little voice in my head that tells me to stop what I'm doing, I tend to follow it. I've found that this voice is uncannily accurate and I've been spared many many speeding (and probably some reckless driving -- I have a penchant for driving on sidewalks, among other bizarre driving habits) tickets I think because of this voice. Occasionally I hear a voice that tells me to do something. I rarely do.

"Gee Chad, why did you do this?"

"The voices told me to."

That would go over real well. I said 'rarely' because there are several circumstances where listening to this voice pays off. I'm a quality engineer, and often when I hear this voice tell me something, it's about the product I'm examining at the time.

That self-loathing voice, tho, that's the one I hear most.

So let's recap! In this post we learned that Chad is meeting with a recruiter today, hears voices (plural) inside his head, occasionally does what they tell him to do and drives on sidewalks.

I don't care what you or they say, I still think I'm a completely sane and well-adjusted individual. And I suspect more people hear voices than let on.

posted by Tacoshop | 6:33 AM

Wednesday, June 05, 2002  

93. I Hate to Say This, But...

(The following is an excerpt of a post I made elsewhere in response to someone else. Since I've seen a number of bad reviews on Eminem's latest CD, however, it seems appropriate to inflict this opinion on you, as well.)

I think Eminem is the best satirist of our time. I think this because he clearly has a relevent message, he recognizes the irony of some of his positions, and can effectively market his ideas.

I disagree with the notion that people buy his albums purely for shock value while blaring them out of overdone car audio systems while cruising through the streets of their community. What little I've heard off his latest album is as prescient as what was contained on his previous one.

Further, the assertion that Eminem and his ilk are the hallmarks of a failing society, I have to wonder exactly how this can be. Failing, that is. If you live in the United States, you are living in the country with the oldest contiguous government on the planet, and while rife with problems of all stripes, the country usually finds a way to work through these issues. Many of the ways these issues come to the forefront of the public consciousness is through the transmission of ideas through art, whether the public at any given time agrees with the ideas or not. To assert that modern American society is failing purports that past American society was somehow better. Tell me, with violent crime dropping and the establishment of America as not a superpower, but the lone hyperpower in the world today (thereby allowing it's citizens to name education as their highest political priority -- when has that happened before?) how can American society be failing? And how can you say that Eminem is proof of that? Because of vulgarity? Come now, would you rather return to the American society of ten years ago? Twenty? Thirty? Forty? Fifty?

Ten years ago crime was at unprecedented levels and we were mired deep within a recession we saw no way out of. At the time, everyone was afraid that America was rapidly selling itself off to the seemingly unstoppable Japanese and oil-rich Arabs.

Twenty years ago we were mired deep in the Cold War, with the nuclear clock fast approaching midnight.

Thirty years ago women felt completely unempowered in the workplace, the nation was embroiled in a scandal that would cause the only resignation of a president in our history and we were trying desperately to extricate ourselves from VietNam.

Forty years ago there were still segregated facilities in the South. 'Nuff said.

Fifty years ago we were mired in yet another massive recession and involved in a war that wasn't a war.

Sixty years ago, World War II.

Seventy years ago, the Depression.

Eighty years ago, Prohibition, Al Capone and gangland Chicago.

And on and on and on...

Eminem's vulgarity is a hallmark that our times are worse than any of those? No! None of them are better than any others, just different with different mores, concerns and civic challenges. Granted we have not yet resolved our issues regarding race, gender, and whatnot, but how can anyone pretend that we're worse off now regarding these things than we were before?

I'm sorry, I just don't see it.

posted by Tacoshop | 8:05 AM

Tuesday, June 04, 2002  

92. Little Things, Other Things.

It's the little things that make you happy. I'd like to take the time here to say thanks to Aurel, Leah, Desiree, jf and Bink for the supportive comments three posts ago. And Kristine of The Red Kitchen made my otherwise rainy day bright today by publishing my silly little egg salad recipe.

I'm considering writing an entry that directly addresses sexism. I have some things rattling around my head about it, but I'm not quite sure what I want to say or even if some of my ideas on it can stand any empirical assaults, so it may be awhile. I bring it up only to mention that if you should have the chance to catch the Mary Tyler Moore Show Biography show on A&E, I heartily recommend it. One of the things that kind of stunned me (thus prompting me to consider writing on it) was how little things have really changed in thirty years with regards to some of the complaints of modern women.

I've confessed to being a tad misogynistic in earlier posts, but one of the bizarre things I've noticed regarding that ongoing development in my life is that the more misogynistic I become, the more interested in women's rights I get, especially in the workplace. The MTM biography showed me that maybe my ideas on women outside the workplace need to be updated as well.

I'm soooo confused!

posted by Tacoshop | 7:42 AM

91. Tuesday Too.

Of goals and the excuses you've made to yourself about why you've not yet done yours is here.

As for me, I'm going rowing.

Today would have been my grandpa's 81st birthday.

posted by Tacoshop | 4:50 AM

Monday, June 03, 2002  

90. Sandwich Spread Recipes.

(To quote the over-quoted Monty Python's Flying Circus) "And now for something completely different..."

~Chad's Egg Salad~

Yep. I invented it. Just now, in fact.

four hard boiled eggs
some diced onion (you be the judge!)
one garlic clove, minced
1 tsp lemon-pepper seasoning
dash hot sauce
some mayonnaise or mayo substitute
1 tbsp tequila

Throw all ingredients in a bowl. Thoroughly crush eggs with handy-dandy trusty fork. Mix well. Mmm, tequila...

~Healthier-Than-Normal Tuna Salad~

Basically, just make tuna salad like you always do, except use cottage cheese in place of some of your mayonnaise. Yeah, yeah, I know, cottage cheese ewww-uh, but trust me on this one and try it once. Especially on toast. I don't know about you, but other ingredients in my tuna salad include celery, onion and radish.

posted by Tacoshop | 1:06 PM