misshepeshu: (Default)
Friends, I have engaged in some 150-proof nerdery in my life, but I think today takes the cake: I was sitting in a park with my boyfriend and a good buddy, both of whom I'd met via OkCupid. Waiting for Trek in the Park to start so I could watch their reenactment of Space Seed. While playing Magic: The Gathering. And not just any kind of Magic. ELDER DRAGON HIGHLANDER Magic.

Cut for those not even remotely interested in reading about the decks we were playing with )

Trek in the Park was, as promised, amazing and hilarious. The guy who played Bones had his comic timing down, and Scottie would've been even more stellar if the actor had any kind of outside voice worth mentioning. As it was, the brogue's over-the-top awesomeness made me laugh even without any audible, intelligible words. The guy who played Khan did it with just the right touch of campy flair. And all the mentions of the terrible, terrible worldwide eugenics wars and the War to End Tyranny in the 1990s drew quite a few belly-laughs from the crowd. All in all: a raucous good time.


Feb. 4th, 2010 09:34 am
misshepeshu: (Default)
Happy birthday to meeee.

Who has an iPod Touch, thanks to her friggin' awesome boyfriend? WHY I DO.

I now have the electronic equivalent of a scarab beetle (it's small and sleek and adorable and ridiculously shiny, eee!), except a scarab beetle can't play me my entire catalog of MP3s if I stick a headphone jack up its ass and mash my thumb on its carapace. Also, my iPod is ∞% less likely to roll poop around on the floor.1 YEAH TAKE THAT STUPID SCARAB BEETLES.

(holy crap I'm smitten)

OK, seriously, scarab beetles are cool. I <3 them. I didn't mean it, beetles! I was kidding. You're totally awesome. I mean, look at this fine Onthophagus lanista specimen. Doesn't it look like a miniature triceratops? How cool do these guys look, trundling around with their massive horns? HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THESE THINGS I ASK YOU.

Speaking of dinosauric things, I've named the iPod "Awesomesaurus Rex," but I don't know that it's the best name for it, given that it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. It kind of goes along with the "Give my electronic things silly names with vaguely ominous overtones" theme I have going on (my desktop = Pimpzilla, my first laptop = TANK!2 and my current laptop = Hello Chthulhu), but I'm still pondering the perfect name for it. I briefly considered naming it Onthophagus, but it just doesn't roll off the tongue. Probably because I have no idea how to pronounce it. (If I knew Latin, I might name it "The flattest and shiniest Onthophagus"? Maybe "My Onthophagus is totally better than your Onthophagus"? Though that'd probably run afoul of character limits. Hey Kate, what would those phrases be in Latin? Or I guess I could just go for filth and name it "Pedicabo ego vos"--which kind of goes along with the "I'm constantly jamming crap up this thing's butt to make it go" theme.3)

Anyway, other suggestions welcome! And then probably promptly discarded because I'm all "Nooooo, I must be special and come up with the name all by myself." Or actually, probably not. I am in a whimsical mood! It's probably lack of sleep and burgeoning panic over my A paper!

Hooray, irrational attachment to shiny objects. That's right, Siddharta, you know where you can stick that whole revelation about attachment to worldly things. It's my birthday! I'll be irrationally attached if I want to!4

EDITED TO ADD: So a certain pedant has pointed out that "Onthophagus" is GREEK, not Latin. Psh. Don't care. Still want a ridiculous Latin (OR GREEK) name for my ridiculous new shiny thing. Preferably with buttsex references.

1 'Cause that's Callisto's job. I love kittens but I've forgotten what a pain in the ass they can be fwargh.

2 It's a Cowboy Bebop reference.

3 You know it likes it. It literally can't live without it!

4 The rational self-interested pursuit of things we are irrationally attached to is the major basis for our economy, you guys. By getting this iPod, Robert and I are totally stimulating the economy, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
misshepeshu: (Bork bork bork)
I've never had 100% whole wheat bread for dessert before, but I just did, and it was a goddamn religious experience. [livejournal.com profile] 2ce brought over some of his amazing whole wheat sandwich loaf, and I cut it into slabs, slathered (and I do mean slathered) the pieces in butter, browned them slightly in my toaster oven and then drizzled honey all over that shit.

Oh. My. God. This is probably my favorite home-made loaf, and definitely my favorite whole wheat bread. I want to drunkenly make out with this bread and then bashfully ask it to go steady with me--THAT'S how much I like it.

I need to learn the secrets of this loaf from Nick, and then make it, and transform the delicious slices into French bread and more of these amazing butter-and-honey slabs. In fact, if I ever start my own restaurant, I'd offer this bread as a dessert option--it'll come pre-toasted in butter, but I'd provide an assortment of honeys, syrups and fresh fruits in separate little containers for the customers to ladle over each bite so the bread doesn't get soggy.
misshepeshu: (Dance!)
Of Montreal was one of the danciest, funnest, bizzarrest, surrealest, just plain out -est shows I've seen. Ever. Troops of dancers wore, at various times on the stage, animal masks (including an apatosaurus* head!), Laughing Buddha costumes, bikinis, disco outfits (complete with a roller-skating girl in black spandex and a fake afro), gigantic papier-mâché arms and legs, a centaur costume and a satyr costume. Death also loomed large on the stage: Lots of stabbings, and, during a particularly memorable moment, Kevin Barnes hanged himself from a gallows on-stage.

Also, Kevin Barnes in pinkish-orange lamé underwear. For a weird, skinny nerd, he's in mad good shape.

The best part, though, was the encore. They closed with "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand and "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana. Everybody went INSANE. I pretty much pogoed like a mad thing through all of Teen Spirit.

Conclusion: One of the most entertaining shows I've been to in a long, long time. A+++++, would see live again.

* Firefox has underlined "apatosaurus" in red and gently suggests "brontosaurus" as the correct spelling. Hee!
misshepeshu: (SPOCK! NIPPLE!)
La première chose: Sarah posted this clip of Whose Line is it Anyway? on Smart Bitches, but I have to spam my LJ friendlist too, because HOLY JESUS DAMN it is awesome. You know why? Because Richard Simmons is in it. And Colin Mochrie uses him like unto a jetski.

...look, just watch it, OK?

I may have to spend a good portion of my day looking up Whose Line clips on the Youtubes. I've forgotten how very much I love that show.

(I also have a bit of a crush on Ryan Stiles. So tall! So painfully dorky! So weird-lookin' and weirdly sexy to me! Goes hand-in-hand with my unholy love for Bill Nye.)

La deuxième chose: I love it when judges have a sense humor, because sometimes, it's those flashes of awesomeness that make the pain in the ass that is law school worthwhile, especially when I'm exhausted and behind in all my readings (hey it took me a month to get there this semester instead of only two weeks! Go me!) and I'm darkly contemplating running away to Hawaii to open a cake shop.

First, some context: Charles Wolff is a Jewish man incarcerated in the fine institution that is the New Hampshire Department of Corrections, and he sued, alleging that the prison denied him a kosher diet, thereby abridging his right to freely practice his religion. As part of the evidence, he tried to file...an egg.

The judge's response? An order to destroy said egg. Written in the style of Green Eggs and Ham.

I now present to you:

Wolff v. New Hampshire Dept. of Corrections, Slip Copy, 2007 WL 2788610 D.N.H.,2007.


JAMES R. MUIRHEAD, United States Magistrate Judge.
Plaintiff has filed a hard-boiled egg as part of his preliminary injunction request.


No fan I am
Of the egg at hand.
Just like no ham
On the kosher plan.

This egg will rot
I kid you not.
And stink it can
This egg at hand.

There will be no eggs at court
To prove a clog in your aort.
There will be no eggs accepted.
Objections all will be rejected.

From this day forth
This court will ban
hard-boiled eggs of any brand.
And if you should not understand
The meaning of the ban at hand
Then you should contact either Dan,
the Deputy Clerk, or my clerk Jan.

I do not like eggs in the file.
I do not like them in any style.
I will not take them fried or boiled.
I will not take them poached or broiled.
I will not take them soft or scrambled
Despite an argument well-rambled.

No fan I am
Of the egg at hand.
Destroy that egg!
Today! Today!
Today I say! Without delay!

SO ORDERED (with apologies to Dr. Seuss).
misshepeshu: (Dance!)

So many amazing things! The music, the gorgeous afros, the amazing polyester shirts, the little kids just ROCKING THE FUCK OUT. Man, Sesame Street back in the day was full of fuck yeah and awesome.

Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] arcus for giving me this groovy start to the day.
misshepeshu: (The cake is not a lie.)
Law school starts tomorrow. AUGH. I'm determined to start the semester right, however, and that means kicking it off with DELICIOUSNESS. To that end, I decided to bake a coffee cake tonight that I could have for breakfast tomorrow.

I decided to experiment with a sour cream coffee cake recipe I've used for quite a while--one topped with fresh raspberries, almonds and drenched in chocolate sauce. It's very good, but a bit rich for breakfast. I also had several nectarines and peaches that need to be Taken Care Of, and I decided that pecans would be an excellent complement to the nectarines.

And thus was this recipe born. HOLY SHIT, GUYS, IT'S REALLY REALLY GOOD. Who's a masterbaker? I'm a masterbaker. I am awesome. And best of all: it's dead easy, you don't need any equipment other than a couple of bowls and a large fork, and the mixing takes hardly any time at all.

So. Enough bragging. (Forgive me, I'm eating the cake right now, and sweet sassy fuck yeah it is tasty.) On to the recipe.

For the topping:
1 large ripe nectarine or peach
1/3 to 1/2 cup raw pecan pieces
1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar (more if desired)
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons butter (or you can use salted butter and skip the salt)

1. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter. Once the foam has subsided, throw in the dark brown sugar and salt and stir until you get a uniform brown mess. (I will refrain from the buttsecks jokes, because I'm classy like that.) Add pecans and stir until pieces are uniformly coated in AWESOME. Promptly remove saucepan from heat. Don't toast the nuts because they'll be plenty toasted in the baking process. Taste the nuts; if they don't taste sweet enough, keep sprinkling brown sugar until it tastes right.

2. Cut nectarine or peach into eighths and skin the segments. Chop the segments into small pieces (about 1/4" in size).

For the cake:

1 cup all-purpose flour
Half stick butter, melted.
2/3 cup sour cream
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/3 cup sugar (white is fine, dark brown gives it a good flavor, too)
2 teaspoons vanilla

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Take an 8" cake pan (9" works, too, you just get a flatter cake and it bakes a bit faster) and brush the bottom and sides with some of the melted butter.

2. Whip the egg, sour cream, vanilla and the rest of the melted butter together.

3. In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar and baking soda.

4. Throw the sour cream mixture into the flour mixture and mix gently with a large fork until mixture is just combined. Batter will be very thick and kind of shaggy. Do not overmix! This will result in a tough cake.

5. Pour batter into cake pan and sprinkle the nectarine pieces and pecans on top of the cake. Bake for about 35 minutes (if using 9" pan, check at 30 minutes). When a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, it's done. Let cool for about 15 minutes and NOM THE SHIT OUT OF IT because this cake is really, really good hot out of the oven.
misshepeshu: (Dance!)
Dudes! The California Supreme Court finally got off their asses and ruled 4-3 that prohibiting same-sex marriages was unconstitutional, going so far as to say that discrimination based on sexual orientation is on the same legal footing as racial and gender bias.

Holy shit!

I mean, holy shit!

(The victory, however, is still provisional: Californians can still vote in November to put a same-sex marriage ban in the Constitution.)

The dissent by Judge Marvin Baxter agreed with many of the arguments set forth by the majority but argued that the court had overstepped its bounds and that this was an issue that should be decided by the voters.

No. No it shouldn't. When it comes to the rights of the minorities, the disenfranchised and the underprivileged, the voters and legislators are the worst bodies to determine and define those rights. Because guess what? There's a goddamn motherfucking turdburgling reason why these people are disenfranchised in the first place--the inequities exist because the majority are reluctant to put the disadvantaged on the same footing as they are. We've seen this over and over again with gender discrimination and racial discrimination; a lot of the rhetoric surrounding inter-racial marriage echoes what's being said about same-sex marriage now (It flies against everything we know to be wholesome and healthy! You're still allowed to marry, you just can't marry the one you want! You're violating traditional notions of family and marriage! You're violating the natural order [unspoken subtext: as determined by our interpretations of an ancient and highly unreliable sacred text supposedly revealed by a Judeo-Christian God]).

What I really want to know is: What kinds of traditional definitions of marriage are these people pulling out of their asses? Marriage, an institution based on legal and cultural traditions, changes with the times, and attempting to point to an arbitrary point in the past and go "Here, HERE'S where the real traditional marriage is, and we should freeze it there forever" strikes me as, if you'll pardon my French, plein de motherfucking merde.
misshepeshu: (NOM)
Several minutes ago:

Candy: That was a nice little dinner. Thanks for cooking with me, Ben.

Ben: You're welcome.


Ben: You know, I like how for us, "little dinner" involves four courses.

Candy: And two and a half hours of cooking.

Ben has been sick for the last week, and I caught le crud from him. I've been exhausted, sleepy and full of coughing and phlegming for the past three days. I was going to have chicken soup and bread for dinner tonight, but Ben started talking about making dal, and then I started craving lamb curry, and before we knew it, we were in the kitchen, wantonly chopping vegetables and throwing spices around with wild abandon.

This happens more often than you'd think.

Or maybe about as often as you'd think, depending on how well you know the both of us and what freaks we are about food. I was a bit shaky on my feet and headachey by the time we were done, but it was absolutely worth it.

Ben made dal and chard with potatoes and Indian spices, while I made lamb curry. I threw it together out of nowhere, putting the flavors together in my head and adjusting the spices as I went. I'm good at impromptu French and impromptu Italian, but I've never tried my hand at impromptu Indian before--not from scratch, anyway. I'm inordinately proud of how well it turned, and I'm recording it here before I forget everything I've put in it.

So, here it is: Candy's Awesome Lamb That Tastes Like Some Kind of Indian Thing, Almost As If She Knew What She Was Doing

Please note that all quantities for spices are approximate. Start conservative, and taste as you go.

2 lbs. boneless lamb meat (we used leg meat), cut into hearty chunks
1 large sweet onion, sliced into 1/4" wide strips
8 (or more) cloves of garlic, finely diced
1 large shallot, finely diced
1 stick cinnamon, bashed briefly so it's in large pieces
1/2 teaspoon whole mace, finely chopped
5.6 oz. can coconut milk (it's the itty-bitty single serving size one)
1/4 cup curry powder (I get the brand with the rooster on the package, the all-purpose type for "meat"--if you get the kind specifically for red meat, it'd probably taste darker, so you might not need to add as much cumin)
2-3 tablespoons cumin powder
1-2 tablespoons turmeric powder
2-3 pinches coriander powder (fresh cilantro would be great for this dish, so use that instead or in addition to if you have it)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon powder
1 serrano pepper, finely diced, more if you like more heat
1/4 cup canned diced tomatoes with juice
2-3 tablespoons peanut oil
Salt to taste (you'll need a surprisingly large amount of it)

1. Heat large cast iron skillet on medium-high. Add peanut oil, then throw in the garlic, shallot, cinnamon and mace. Fry until mixture is very fragrant and garlic is barely starting to brown.

2. Throw in the lamb and brown. Add coconut milk, half the curry powder and half of all of the different spices, including the serrano pepper.

3. Allow to simmer for a while, then taste. Add more spices and curry powder as necessary.

4. Add onion. Cook until onions are just starting to wilt.

5. Add tomatoes and salt.

6. Taste again and adjust spices as necessary. Allow everything to simmer for a few minutes more
(basically, until you can't stand the smell and temptation any more).

Dinner was awesome, and the best part? We have leftovers. Aw yeah.

I rule

Sep. 13th, 2007 10:49 pm
misshepeshu: (Bork bork bork)
I just made the most amazing chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. No, I'm serious--they're really, REALLY good. You people need to kidnap me more often and tell me to make cupcakes for you. For serious.

Also, in an ongoing culinary puns-n-poets game with Beth, Jonathan and Jeff (which kicked off with Peanut Butter and Shelley), I came up with "Edgar Allen Poe' Boy." I am unduly proud of this. I also came up with Allen Ginsberger and fries. Ezra Poundcake, too, but somebody had already beat me to it. Maya Angelou Food Cake was kind of clumsy; I liked the Maya Flangelou variation that somebody else came up with much better.

Also also, Beth made me a scarf! It is bright purple and FUZZY. I want to curl up around it and purr like a kitten. I can't wait for an opportunity to wear it.

Also also also: Jeff and Beth kind of simultaneously said LANGSTON BOOZE. Holy shit.

Kitten news: she's back in one piece. Teeth are fixx0red and freshly cleaned, and my bank account is $257 poorer for it. Totally worth it, though.

In conclusion: I win at today.
misshepeshu: (Bookishness)
So I occasionally say things like "I love this book so much, I'd totally make out with it at a party." Or, somewhat more rarely, "I love this book so much, I want to marry it."

[livejournal.com profile] octi_stripe and I were talking about this the other day, and she said "Well, why don't we marry those books?"


So some time in the near-ish future, i.e., once Kelly gets back from Manchester, I want to throw a party wherein we bring our very favoritest books, dress swanky, marry them in some kind of deeply silly ceremony (as opposed to the utterly serious varieties of biblio-human marriage ceremonies) and eat wedding cake baked from scratch (likely courtesy of myself and [livejournal.com profile] imfallingup), as well as other assorted bits of tastiness. And then maybe we can take turns reading our favorite bits from those favorite books? And figure out other fun, stupid things to do? I don't think this will be too much of a problem with you lot.

misshepeshu: (cowbell)
I got a bicycle. HOLY FUCKING CRAP, as the kids say. It's a sweet little vintage Schwinn girl's cruiser. Bright, bright lemon yellow, and single speed. The biggest pain in the ass part of transporting this bike, but also what makes it look so goddamn sexy? Its massive handlebars. It's the motherfuckin' Texas Longhorn of bicycles, bitches. It is impossible to fit in my car unless I take the handlebar assembly off.

Jeff helped me work on it today--took the wheels off, replaced one of the inner tubes, replaced the chain, etc. It's old and kinda rusty and needlessly difficult in a lot of ways (holy Jebus, getting the wheels off alone is a project and a half), but I only need to get it in decent enough working condition for Burning Man. The more comprehensive overhaul can wait when I get back. These vintage cruisers can sometimes go for over $400 new. Craziness! I want to get mine in mint shape and pimp it out, though I don't know how realistic my ambition is going to be, given my current commitments.

Oh, and I named it Evan, after Evan Dando, because a) he's the singer of The Lemonheads, and b) he's notorious for being crazy and difficult to work with.

Pictures soon.

Tangential and needlessly vague personal life update: It's been an exhausting and crazy weekend, both physically and (a little bit) emotionally. Don't worry, nothing bad is happening to me at the moment--in fact, quite the opposite in many ways--but it distresses me when friends are distressed, and I have some friends who aren't doing so great right now.


Jul. 6th, 2007 07:05 pm
misshepeshu: (Tongue!)
My utterly adorable neighbor, S, while we were catching up on each other's 4th of July celebrations and the like, and I was telling her how I hadn't been home in a few days: "Yeah, we were telling a friend of ours about our neighbors and how we didn't meet you for the longest time, and how we thought it was because you were really shy and anti-social, but then it turns out it's because you're really, really social."


She's a veteran bungee jumper, and has offered to take me with them next time they go to the Mt. Hood jump. She (and her boyfriend and her roommate) are all Reedies, so they have access to the cabin the college owns up in that there parts. My neighbors: awesome. My glee: massive.
misshepeshu: (Blackbeard)
Ooofah. So tired. Didn't get back from Plunderathon until 5 a.m., and what's more, I woke up for some damn reason at 9:45 and couldn't get back to sleep, though I was too tired to actually get up. I was constantly in motion from about noon to well past midnight last night. My body hurts all over, though in a very pleasant way. All in all, I currently possess the vim and vigor of a soggy pancake. A happy soggy pancake.


1. The pirate ship! Holy crapdamn fuckmonkeys on a pretzel stick, Dave built a two-masted ship from a shopping cart, PVC pipe, cotter pins and cloth. The HMS Venture (last year's was the HMS Birdman, so I'm waiting to see if next year's has an Invader Zim name) was a brute to steer, but it certainly looked impressive.

2. The pirate flag! Really fucking huge. Really fucking impressive. Really fucking unwieldy.

3. Encountering Ua and Karissa (dude, am I spelling your name right?) unexpectedly and getting to hang out with them for a good portion of the day.

4. Encountering many other friends expectedly and getting to hang out with them for a good portion of the day.

5. Showing up at the Morlock Pit with absolutely no preparation and going "Uh, help?" and having them throw awesome costume fixins at me. My pirate getup turned out quite well. Not very elaborate, but less lame than last year's, and decently sexy if the distracted stares I got were any indication. The people most distracted were the ones who knew that all I was wearing underneath the corset-vest was a bandeau of cloth held by nothing more than safety pins and a prayer. (It held up really, really well, though. No inadvertent nippage, which: WIN!)

6. Winning a pack of Vivid Man dirty playing cards. Oh damn. Katie and Jess, I need to show it to you some time. You guys will love it. LOVE. IT.

7. Getting a magnificent moustache-and-goatee drawn on me by the Dread Pirate Scott. Later, when The Fez was boring us and we decided to wander downtown, we crashed a wedding party at the Gerding Theater for two minutes and danced amidst a sea of formally-dressed people. The person videotaping the party swung his camera and trained it on us for a little bit. I hope we make it through the editing; that would be radtacular.

All in all, a most excellent Plunderathon. Pictures soon. I took over a hundred, though after weeding out the useless ones, it'll likely be about 30 to 40.

But for now: huge glass of water, feeding cats, cleaning house, and tango.

And later: collecting stuff I left at the Pit, and COLLAPSERATION.

Edited to add: One major highlight I forgot to mention was the time a pirate T-shirt shot out of the cannon (yeah, we had a home-made air cannon) got stuck in a tree outside of the Ash Street Saloon. I was hoisted with little ceremony onto James the Unimaginatively Named Pirate's shoulders, given the aforementioned Really Fucking Huge and Really Fucking Unwieldy flag and told to knock it down. It was awesome. I was really high up, I had three people holding my ass up, and my butt was pretty much on James's face (I was an asshat, literally!); trying to do all this without dropping the flag or falling on my fucking ass was some of the most fun I've had with all my clothes on.
misshepeshu: (Blackbeard)

This Saturday. Meet at 3 p.m. at Skidmore Fountain. Be there, or be a scurvy landlubber.

More details here.

Dave, Melissa: Need any help? Want me to show up early at the Pit?
misshepeshu: (Default)
1. Sarah and I wrote a crapload of parody poetry. About David Hasselhoff.

You think we kid? Oh we don't kid about the Hoff, baby. Read it and weep.

2. Bike porn. Clinton Street Theater, 9 p.m., this Friday. I'm definitely going to be there. Who else is going? Various friends have submitted at least two films. One's an interspecies (inter-element? inter-organic?) love story about a man and his fixie, the other's actually porn. Like, people porn. With the fucking and all. You should accompany me, yes yes. You know you want to.

3. The Bus Project's Wheelies award. I designed their website, and I'm volunteering there Saturday night. Alas, not free--tickets are $24--but I have plenty of tickets to sell if you want them, and the Bus is a pretty nifty organization to support.
misshepeshu: (The cake is not a lie.)
Fact: Crushed pieces of Oreo cookies are awesome in just about every conceivable sort of dessert, including brownies.

Another fact: Crushes pieces of Oreo cookies are also awesome ON TOP of brownies.

Why in the hell aren't there more Oreo brownies out there? What's wrong with people?

Anyway, here's a recipe, for those of you are interested in PURE MOTHERFUCKING AWESOME IN A PAN:

6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped (I used three lines of Trader Joe's Pound Plus 72% Dark Belgian chocolate, which amounted to about 6.6 ounces)
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped (Scharffen Berger, baby)
1 1/2 sticks (3/4 cup) unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar (you can use white sugar, but dark brown sugar intensifies the flavor, isn't quite as sweet and makes everything moister and happier. You can also decrease the mixture by 1/4 cup if you like your brownies really bittersweet)
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup crushed Oreo pieces (I used the Trader Joe's knock-offs, which are even better than Oreos)

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Melt butter and chocolate in a double boiler or (if you're lazy like me) in the microwave. Let mixture cool.

2. Whip eggs until foamy. Add sugar, salt and vanilla essence; mix well.

3. Add chocolate mixture and stir thoroughly.

4. Add flour, fold/stir until just combined.

5. Add chocolate chips and 1/4 cup Oreo pieces. Sprinkle remaining Oreo pieces on top. Pour into 9 x 13 pan or 10" springform.

6. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until tester inserted in middle of brownie comes out with moist crumbs attached. Allow to cool in the pan about 20 minutes, then dig in. Serve with vanilla ice-cream and/or whipped cream. Sliced strawberries or fresh raspberries optional, but increases awesomeness exponentially.
misshepeshu: (Dance!)
1. Much excitement and concurrent drastic decrease in sleep is the rule for this weekend, because OMG RENN FAYRE.1

2. Because of OMG Renn Fayre, [livejournal.com profile] ariiadne and [livejournal.com profile] vyrin, who are part of the Meatsmoke crew, are in town! YAY! They stayed over last night, which was deeeelightful. Colin and I have determined that we need to participate in next year's Bring Your Own Big Wheel race. Plans to create an unholy tandem Big Wheel were discussed. Jess expressed doubts about joining us, but resistance is futile, because Colin and I, we are the Big Wheel Borg. (We will assimilate you...using giant plastic wheels that have a hilarious tendency to fail when bearing more than 80 lbs. of weight.) There's no way in hell we're going to actually finish first place in this race, so we're aiming for other prizes, like Most High-tech Big Wheel (given where Colin works, this should be a shoo-in), the most awesome costumes, the most spectacular crash and the most onlookers taken down during aforementioned spectacular crash.

Really, I don't know WHY Jess is hesitant. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

3. And also because of OMG RENN FAYRE, [livejournal.com profile] redsouffle and [livejournal.com profile] konomaigo! Arriving tonight! From Seattle! They'll be staying over at my place for the weekend, yay. I am Hotel Friendia!2 Where it's all exclamation marks, all the time!


1 Many of you probably haven't heard of Reed College, but trust me that when Reedies scoff at the Ivy League as the pussy option, they're not necessarily overstating things. Reed graduates who go on to grad school are either pleasantly surprised at how easy it is, or highly indignant that their homework assignments require only 15-page analyses. Reed, as you can imagine, has a tendency to attract the highly intelligent, the highly eccentric and the highly workaholic, and the pressure cooker environment tends to inspire a fantastically dysfunctional love/hate relationship between the students and the school. And then all this built-up intensity explodes in this INSANE FUCKING PARTY at the end of the academic year. Once upon a time, it was actually a Renaissance-themed fair, but the name nowadays is just a formality. Nowadays, it's a huge 3-day party that usually has nothing to do with the Renaissance or fairs (this year's theme = Dr. Seuss, actually), wherein attendees engage in insect-eating contests, play human chess, wrestle each other in fat suits, flop around in giant lube-filled Slip 'n Slides, Pict (i.e., get naked, paint themselves blue and run around screaming), plus many other Wacky Adventures. And then there's the dancing; March Fourth, Lions of Batucada and Jason Webley typically make appearances. I have no idea what the schedule is going to be this year. I'm just going to wander around and be pleasantly surprised, or be dragged around by friends.

2 Credit to [livejournal.com profile] ccarrico for coming up with that phrase.
misshepeshu: (Nerds are Hot)
[livejournal.com profile] quietselkie woke up with the five phases of mitosis running through her brain. I...I dreamt of (drumroll) post-modern beer commercials taking over television. The last image before I woke up was a freeze-frame of a photo of giant bottle of beer, the amber bottle beaded with condensation, floating against a super-saturated blue background. And the announcer said "Post-modern beer. Enjoy this deliberately manipulated representation of a representation of a consciousness-altering beverage. Your experience of reality as you perceive it cannot possibly compare."

What. The. Fuck.

Also, how post-modern is a dream about self-consciously post-modern beer commercials featuring photos of the product? This, my friends, is the seven-layer nacho of post-modern experience.

That dream was almost as nerdy as the one I had a couple weeks ago in which I got into an argument with a chemist about reduction, especially as it related to iron(II) vs. iron(III) ions.

In other, more important but less surreal news, I found out last night that Lewis and Clark Law School has seen fit to bestow me with a partial scholarship. WOO!
misshepeshu: (Dance!)
Oregon House OKs gay rights bills.

Oregon's gays and lesbians would win the benefits of marriage and protections against discrimination under landmark bills approved Tuesday by the Oregon House.


One would enable same-sex couples to enter into contractual relationships that grant them the same benefits offered to married couples under state law. The bill refers to the relationships as "domestic partnerships."

The other bill would ban discrimination against gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people in employment, housing and access to public accommodations.

I'm a little sniffly right now, to tell you the truth. Progress is slow and difficult, but it's happening. Credit to [livejournal.com profile] linettasky for alerting me to this story.

(Heh. That Harvey Birdman icon I'm using is even more apropos than usual.)

OK, I'm done spamming you today.


misshepeshu: (Default)

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