All is fair in love and blogging...

The big 14 killed my baby.

2009-01-17T07:14:00.000-08:00

Complete with a drunken sign-off.

I ate three corn dogs while waiting for this to upload.

Get yourself a twenty thousand dollar hooker.

2009-01-12T12:53:00.000-08:00

The economic state of emergency.

2009-01-11T11:57:00.000-08:00

V-blog - Test numero uno.

2009-01-09T13:38:00.000-08:00

This is pretty raw, I may have to acquire some video editing tools, but for now it's all I've got.

If any of you have any ideas on programs I could use for simple video editing, please let me know.

Enjoy!

Put my baby to the grind wheel.

2009-01-07T19:34:00.000-08:00

All this knife talk has made me really sit down and think about what it is that I truly cherish about my closest kitchen friend.

My Henckel Santoku and I have been working side by side for almost three years now and I have to be honest, I don't know what I would do without her. She's like a good wife, loyal and trusting; I respect her, and she reciprocates.

I had all my knives sharpened today but I noticed myself especially concerned when the man doing the sharpening put my baby to the grind wheel. While all the other knives, about fifteen in total, we’re being ground down, buffed, and polished, I continued to work diligently in my kitchen, my mind wandering the vast culinary shadows; and yet when my Santoku was next to be revived, I couldn’t help but sit down and watch, head perched in my hands, refusing to take my eyes off her for a second. It was then that I realized how much this knife really meant to me.

It is true that in a kitchen you never touch another man’s knife. Anthony Bourdain said it best in his book Kitchen Confidential- “Don’t touch my dick, don’t touch my knife”. We build a comfort level with our favorite knives, and that comfort must never be breached.

After the first week of owning my Santoku, and after much prodding, I allowed a handful of people to use her under close watch. Out of those five, three of them cut themselves bad enough to require medical treatment, one of them losing the tip of his index finger. Yet with the thousands of times we have worked together, she has not so much as nipped at me. She knows where she belongs, as an extension of my arm, and nestled softly in the calluses of my index finger and thumb.

Thank you, dear friend. You may be a little banged up, but you’re still my favorite knife in the case.

www.makinmistakes.com

2009-01-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

2008; looking back at a year of opportunity, shameless mistakes, and complete and utter silliness.

Since my therapist suggested I blog more to let the demons out, it only makes sense to blog about the passing year. Shit, it really went by like THAT. *snaps fingers* I mean, QUICK, and although I should boast about being more mature, or grabbing the world by it's tail, or loves obtained and lost, I have come to terms with the fact that I will always be sixteen years old in my eyes, and just a little boy. It's like the movie Groundhog Day, except rather than being stuck in the same day, it's the same year, every year...nothing changes. I mean, people come and go, my environment changes, but it's the same old B.S. as it was in 1998, only now I can get sloshed in front of my parents without them pouring my bourbon down the drain.

However, if there's one thing I can say it's that I certainly took advantage of EVERY opportunity this year had to offer, no matter how crazy. In January I took advantage of my real estate classes and sold a few homes, which allowed me to pay off my car, a few debts, and save a nice chunk of change, which I later shamelessly blew at a blackjack table and an endless supply of white russians.

In spring I went on a dating frenzy, meeting up with various respectable girls in Western Pennsylvania, all of who were nice, but not exactly what I was looking for.

Summer rekindled friendships over a seven day alcohol and gambling jag in Atlantic City, and reminded me why I love these people so much. Sometimes I look back at those pictures when I feel alone.

With autumn came change, randomly moving to Georgia, and opening new doors.

Winter was crushing as always, the temperatures weren't too bad, but everything still seemed so cold. I got a chance to revisit family and friends, owned up to a few mistakes, and learned to let go a little.

2009 is already budding with new opportunity, perhaps a new job, more money, and another shot at love. Keep your fingers crossed.

PS - I'm having my knives sharpened tomorrow. This has nothing to do with the new year, I'm just really excited.

Israeli war-"tweet"-ics

2008-12-31T15:19:00.000-08:00

Though the Israeli Army has found some success with their airstrikes against militants in the Gaza Strip, a new war zone is emerging that could impact everyone worldwide- the Internet.

The Jerusalem Post quotes Maj. Avital Leibovich, the head of the Israeli Defense Forces' foreign press branch on the digital media campaign. "The blogosphere and new media are another war zone," she says. "We have to be relevant there."

Israel’s military has already spearheaded the online combat by publishing videos of recent airstrikes on its own YouTube channel, some of which that have already been removed. In response, a note on the channel read:

"We are saddened that YouTube has taken down some of our exclusive footage showing the IDF's operational success in operation Cast Lead against Hamas extremists in the Gaza Strip. ... It is also worth noting that one of the videos removed had the highest number of hits (over 10,000) at the time of its removal."

Of course, the world cannot be won on YouTube alone, so the Israeli Consulate in New York hosted a press conference on Twitter, a micro blogging site with growing popularity.

When this was first drawn to my attention I was outraged! Keep your war over there, I can turn on the television at any point during the day if I want to see you all kill yourselves, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I were involved in a war, I would be all over the internet. My question though is why the HELL would you pick Twitter of all sites?? You’re only allowed 140 Characters! How do you have a conference regarding war affairs when you can only type 140 characters or less?

Sandsk8ter - @ DanzaBoss @ shyguy14 FAIL!! No no, just kidding, you guys are the best.

DanzaBoss - @ shyguy14 OMGZ!!1 They were all like “oh no they’re going to bomb our school” lol

shyguy14 - @ DanzaBoss Did you see the look on their face when we bombed that school? Hehe

I'd drink from those cups any day.

2008-12-30T13:46:00.000-08:00

Protests have been sparked by users of the increasingly popular networking site, Facebook, over whether or not breast-feeding photos should be allowed to be displayed to the public. Facebook has recently removed a number of these photos stating that if the nipple can be seen, then the photo violates the terms outlined under sexually explicit photos. This controversy outraged dedicated mother and blogger Kelli Roman whose picture of her breast-feeding daughter was removed by the site. To combat Facebook’s decision, Roman created a petition to allow such pictures, compiling over 80,000 names and 10,000 comments.

I think what’s more disturbing here is that over 80,000 people actually got THAT upset about not being able to display their breasts on facebook. I hate to tell you this, but if a child sucking on your teat is the best picture you have, then maybe you shouldn’t have any pictures at all. I’ve never been one for censorship, but one has to ask, where do you draw the line?

Another breast-feeding mother had this to say:

"I find it offensive that (Facebook) can remove my photo but not the close up picture of a thonged backside I (have) seen on a friend's page or remove the "what kama sutra position are you?" quiz application,"

Facebook actually WILL remove pictures of girls in thongs, just not the hot ones. If your breasts were removed from facebook, then maybe it’s time for a lift? Huh? Maybe? Maybe get a little work done? Get them firmed up?

Or maybe you’re just upset because whoever impregnated you during that late night backseat grope-fest got out of the taxi a few stops earlier and you never saw him again- but trust me honey, flailing those flapjacks all over the internet isn’t going to hook you another baby-daddy. Despite what you may think, the rest of the facebook world generally isn’t wearing beer goggles, so tuck those things back into your belt, turn on some Doctor 90210, and dive into that sixer of Colt 45- because we all know good decisions are inspired by booze.

Chick-fil-A; a delicious spawn of Satan.

2008-12-28T20:40:00.000-08:00

A recent study out of New Zealand has shown that cattle, sheep, and goats emit 48% of the country’s green house gasses in the form of Methane and Nitrous Oxide, based on an inventory of 34.2 Million sheep, 9.7 Million cattle, 1.4 Million deer, and 155,000 goats. This makes up 18% of the harmful gasses worldwide, more than all forms of transportation combined.

Scientists in New Zealand have proposed many ideas of how to lessen this startling statistic, such as modified diets, food additives, and vaccines, while Australian teams have suggested eating more kangaroo- a non-methane producing animal. However, all scientists agree that as the world population increases, the demand for livestock grows exponentially, along with the heightened risk of extreme global warming.

Listen, we don’t need a miracle, or magic potion, or some crazy scientific equation. Open your damn eyes people! While the world has been keeping a close watch on a sneaky China, the cows are making their stealthy advancements towards world domination. What’s that? You think I’m crazy? Well perhaps you haven’t seen all those Chick-fil-A advertisements for the past forty years!

Cows can't complete their global power struggle if we keep eating them, but you’re so damn brain washed by their absurdly delicious chicken sandwiches and waffle fries that you haven’t noticed them infiltrating our society! Slowly but surely they’ve been learning our language and mating with our women. Before we know it we’ll be overrun with half-breed cow-people, and those are the worst kind.

This can only mean Chick-fil-A is not only a threat to our Nation, but a threat to the WORLD- just ahead of vegetarians and PETA. This situation MUST be addressed immediately, because I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have to go up against THIS...

Jews still hold axe to Hitler; Trout.

2008-12-27T11:47:00.000-08:00

BRUSSELS - A Belgian Public Broadcaster is being condemned by the Jewish community for airing stand-up comedy that pokes fun at the holocaust and the prosecution of Jews, marking the third protest in two months claiming "gross insensitivity".

A late October protest even forced the company to scrap a TV show about famous people's favorite foods that featured Adolf Hitler and his beloved Alpine Trout in butter sauce.

In response, comedian Philippe Geubels commented during the review show "Het Besluit" in saying:

"What are they going to do if there's a gas leak in Antwerp?" (A Belgian Port City and large Jewish community). "Take the city to court for provocation? Pre-emptively file charges against anyone who dares joke about that?". Also adding that the Holocaust could never happen again because "Jews are much smarter now."

I personally still find Holocaust jokes entertaining, and the fact that the Jewish community is still so offended by it makes it all the better. Get over it. Benito Mussolini killed thousands, Stalin was a monster, Blacks finally no longer have to pick cotton. The world is changing, it was a horrific part of history. we get it. Just relax, no one's trying to steal your gold. We all respect you as a religion and community. If you can't take the heat, stay out of the oven.

PS- I can make these comments because I LOOK Jewish. Isn't that how it works?

Go ahead, tear up a little, I won't tell.

2008-12-23T07:51:00.000-08:00

...because I haven't been able to get this song out of my head for days and it really reminds me of everyone back home.

Merry Christmas, I'm on my way.

Cross-Dress Your Onion

2008-12-20T11:15:00.000-08:00

Why do I buy shallots?

For those of you who may not have worked in a commercial kitchen, shallots are a cross-breed between an onion and a bulb of garlic. What a useless vegetable!

You will see shallots in the cooling box of nearly every half-decent restaurant across the globe, and I have actually heard chefs say "I use shallots in everything! I don't know what I would do without the shallot!"

Are you fucking kidding me?! The shallot?? really?? Listen to me, the average consumer's taste buds can NOT differentiate between a shallot and an onion. TRUTH. So why the hell are you paying an elevated price for shallots when you could just as easily use a Vidallia onion and a clove of garlic?? So you can put the word "shallot" on the menu?? Outrageous. I'll tell you what, do me and your establishment a favor and ditch your precious shallot for produce more readily available. As for the menu, keep the shallots out of text, no one really cares anyway.

I am tired of shallots mascarading around as onions...or garlic...or whatever. Pick a side and stick with it.

The shallot is a lie.

I Can Feel Me Living

2008-12-19T12:34:00.000-08:00

I have always expected myself to die young. Ever since I was a kid, I assumed that I would never live a full life, and I believe it all stems from not having a foreseeable future. I've never really had a "career", but rather just odd jobs to get by, perhaps a sign that I should enjoy myself while I can and that a career is unnecessary for anyone exiting their physical being. I've also been fruitless in love, maybe so that I never have to break the heart of my companion in my passing. All of these comments can be easily argued, as everyone has their own experiences from which they take their life lessons.

We lead tragic lives as a whole, tormented with our own pains, whether it be a passing parent, a love lost, a missed opportunity, or simply a personal flaw we beg to change. We often look to accept these pains and deal with them, understanding we can't change the past, maybe never being able to sing, or popping Ibuprofin every morning to be able to walk into work. In fact, sometimes we get so used to the pain that we forget what it was like when there was no pain at all; we felt good, life was good, things were simple.

I noticed this while on a delivery for work last night. I felt numb, my arms and legs didn't feel heavy and worn out as they normally do, but rather relaxed and at ease, my car caressing the road as if I was on a cloud drifting across the horizon, the radio at just the right volume, and my singing was spot on, hitting every note with ease. This is when I realized something was terribly wrong, and I started to panic, almost losing control of my vehicle. Where was all my pain? Why am I no longer fatigued? I KNOW I don't sound like Freddie Mercury. What the hell is wrong with me?

Upon my awareness the pain came flooding back, so it seems that my mind was so occupied with other things that I didn't notice all the other annoyances in my life. I tend to think this is how accidents happen, you enter a state of complete comfort and unknowingly let your guard down, leaving you susceptible to harm. It's almost as if your body completely turns off it's senses.

Furthermore, and perhaps a more frightening thought is that I started to panic when the pain went AWAY. Have a really gotten to a point in my life where pain is the norm, and comfort is a foreign emotion? Upon further analyzing, I have concluded that this "pain" is caused from unnecessary stresses over a variety of topics out of my control. It has always been my opinion that stress brings you closer to death, maybe this is why I've always thought I would die young. I need to relax.

Christmas is coming, friends will be around, I will be home and looking forward to a relaxing vacation.

War On The Job-Front

2008-09-01T22:14:00.000-07:00

War on the Home-Front

Gainesville is a nice place to live, especially our little gated community of the Lake Lanier Club. This little quiet paradise nestled next to Lake Lanier comes complete with swimming pools, waterfalls, fountains, tennis courts, work out gyms, a car wash, tanning beds and pretty girls. I am living with Ryan, a friend of mine from our youth who holds a well paying job with a major automobile company. He takes very good care of me, and helps me out with everything from expenses to job hunting. It is almost always sunny here and I spend the majority of my days lounging by the pool and driving around to learn about the area.

War on the Job-Front

Before embarking on my journey I lined up a job in new car sales using a dealership staffing agency. Unfortunately that opportunity fell through, imagine that. Apparently I was told I don’t know anything about cars, and although they may be right, I do know a little something about marketing myself and immediately hit the pavement. I may have found a job at a quaint gourmet restaurant as a chef with the opportunty to quickly advance to kitchen manager. I should expect to hear back from them early this week.

I know you’re all saying that I’ve done the food thing before, but I am starting to understand it may be what I was created to do. I have always searched for that natural talent, and it took me a while to realize that the only thing that ever came natural to me was cooking (regretfully it wasn’t being a doctor or lawyer). I have been reminded a lot recently of Anthony Bourdain’s book “Kitchen Confidential” (pick it up, it’s a good read) that outlines in the first two chapters why anyone would crave a chef’s position. He makes referance to a chef and his crew to being a sea captain and a band of pirates. It’s this sort of renegade mentality that would draw a man to a career in extensive heat, crowded spaces, little pay, long hours, and no benefits. So it’s time to grow some facial hair, find my do-rag, buy a Harley and join the pirate ship. Sorry Mom.

Georgia or Bust

2008-09-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

Five hours worth of Bruce Springsteen songs, two brave pilots, one epic journey, and an acoustic guitar. Anyone with an education can finish that equation, unless of course you’re the barefoot, toothless, drunk that loiters outside of the local liquor store singing old Hank Williams songs.

We began our journey August 10, 2008 departing from Irwin, Pennsylvania, more specifically, Route 30; the lifeline of Western Pennsylvania and a main artery I wouldn’t dare deviate from. I dared. I deviated. I’m lost.

…but I digress.
After thirteen hours, three stops for fuel and coffee, and a jaunt around a South Carolinaian waffle house, we finally arrived at our destination, Gainesville, Georgia. My little Chevrolet Cavalier ran like a champion, a fine piece of machinery that I could only assume was crafted with good ol’ Northern inginuity.

Of course, I think my muffler is falling off, but that’s nothing a rusty coat hanger can’t fix. I’ll have one of the gear-heads do it for me, after all, I’m delicate.

The Bottom [Mason-Dixon] Line

2008-09-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

I’ve always been a bit of a mad scientist, always mixing, concocting, creating, and destroying; my own style, my own way. Now I find myself below the Mason-Dixon Line, a lone Yankee in a sea of rebel flags and sore losers, a new Patriot on the war front bringing the battle back home.

How do you like that for an intro.?? Yeah, just kind of grabs you by the grapes, makes you want to keep reading. By all means...