Meat

Although I did not attend jojobean's meat orgy, I did seem to have a ridiculous amount of meat this weekend. It started out gently on friday, with dissatisfyingly dry chicken in a caesar salad. When mattlistener and mudpuppy joined us to play games on the Davis Square compass rose (no, not on the adjoining 9/11 memorial) I was glad to raid their sauce-slathered indian-takeout meat, even if I had to find a way to scrape off the rice without being entirely gauche.

Bought no food at (f)Artbea(s)t, even made myself a salad prior to the pool party. Somehow, it didn't really penetrate my cranium that of course it would also be a BBQ, or that there'd be so many tempting bad carbs at a point of demoralizing stagnation in my diet. I'd resisted when there were still homemade sweets, but then eventually craved the skittles and sublimated with steak and snausages (and quite a bit of crudites.) The Future Mr. skreeky even grilled me up something after midnight.

Today started out ok, but damn, the seviche was nummy. And the tj's chicken/ginger/plum snausages, and enormous slices of cow bigger than my face that someone with a much faster metabolism than my own claimed was 1.5 servings (more like 6 for me, at least, on a non-party day). We discussed how to magically cook goose in fat and yet make it less fatty. With any luck, I've got them committed to calling the moment infinitehotel inevitably tries this.

When I got to the birthday BBQ hosted by other South Beeyotches, most of the veggies had been inhaled, except for the SB-friendly coleslaw, which was going fast. I ended up having bits of venison, lamb, and decided I was too meated out for the Buffalo. We reminisced about Ostrich, the red meat of birds, but no one had brought any this time.

::

Later met up with prog to see Coffee and Cigarettes, which, considering the warnings I'd gotten at the BBQs, was far more satisfying than expected. A lot of parallels between vignettes, and not just the checkerboard set theme. I still prefer the genuine randomness of Blue in the Face. Some of the sketches were credited to a producer named Jim Stark. Alas, IMDb does not verify this, you'll have to sit through them yourself.

Afterwards, I told prog that he seems like he should be a smoker. He pointed out that he had heard that before.

::

crs, I am not happy with that little prince meme. It says I'm The Pilot, not The Drawing. One of my favorite little things per Fling is his photos from "our" burning man included a photo of (a copy of) the drawing, waaaaay out on the playa. (I suppose, then, I should find out who put the drawing there, for it is more them than fling. I am still warm to know that he recognized the Not-A-Hat.)

Meat

Although I did not attend jojobean's meat orgy, I did seem to have a ridiculous amount of meat this weekend. It started out gently on friday, with dissatisfyingly dry chicken in a caesar salad. When mattlistener and mudpuppy joined us to play games on the Davis Square compass rose (no, not on the adjoining 9/11 memorial) I was glad to raid their sauce-slathered indian-takeout meat, even if I had to find a way to scrape off the rice without being entirely gauche.

Bought no food at (f)Artbea(s)t, even made myself a salad prior to the pool party. Somehow, it didn't really penetrate my cranium that of course it would also be a BBQ, or that there'd be so many tempting bad carbs at a point of demoralizing stagnation in my diet. I'd resisted when there were still homemade sweets, but then eventually craved the skittles and sublimated with steak and snausages (and quite a bit of crudites.) The Future Mr. skreeky even grilled me up something after midnight.

Today started out ok, but damn, the seviche was nummy. And the tj's chicken/ginger/plum snausages, and enormous slices of cow bigger than my face that someone with a much faster metabolism than my own claimed was 1.5 servings (more like 6 for me, at least, on a non-party day). We discussed how to magically cook goose in fat and yet make it less fatty. With any luck, I've got them committed to calling the moment infinitehotel inevitably tries this.

When I got to the birthday BBQ hosted by other South Beeyotches, most of the veggies had been inhaled, except for the SB-friendly coleslaw, which was going fast. I ended up having bits of venison, lamb, and decided I was too meated out for the Buffalo. We reminisced about Ostrich, the red meat of birds, but no one had brought any this time.

::

Later met up with prog to see Coffee and Cigarettes, which, considering the warnings I'd gotten at the BBQs, was far more satisfying than expected. A lot of parallels between vignettes, and not just the checkerboard set theme. I still prefer the genuine randomness of Blue in the Face. Some of the sketches were credited to a producer named Jim Stark. Alas, IMDb does not verify this, you'll have to sit through them yourself.

Afterwards, I told prog that he seems like he should be a smoker. He pointed out that he had heard that before.

::

crs, I am not happy with that little prince meme. It says I'm The Pilot, not The Drawing. One of my favorite little things per Fling is his photos from "our" burning man included a photo of (a copy of) the drawing, waaaaay out on the playa. (I suppose, then, I should find out who put the drawing there, for it is more them than fling. I am still warm to know that he recognized the Not-A-Hat.)