Friday, November 6, 2015

Speed Birthdating!

Crap, I better post something before this blog turns into Brigadoon.

First, a seriously belated thanks to Sheri for the lovely birthday post, with its glimpse into the dark mind of Jimmy and his psycho-sexual fixation on MOR, the meat so thrifty it won't even spring for an "E". I'd never heard of this poor man's SPAM and certainly can't vouch for its flavor, but based on the image in the post below, it's apparently an effective prophylaxis against puppy love.

And thanks for the many kind and thoughtful birthday wishes in the comments, especially because I've been so criminally dilatory this month about celebrating everyone else's birthday. My only excuse is that I'm in a lot of pain, and while that's nothing new, my reaction to it is.

In the past, I've been able to slog through most of these episodes with a sparing use of painkillers, a liberal application of corticosteroids, and a daily refrain of "This too shall pass." But this time -- maybe because I'm getting older and my bony infrastructure isn't bouncing back as fast as it once did -- the bum disc was accompanied by depression, exhaustion, and a pervading sense of What's The Point?  I probably should have fessed up about this earlier, rather than just leaving the blog out to rust in the yard, but I know so many people, many from the Wo'C community, who are dealing with so much worse -- chronic fatigue, constant pain, even homelessness -- that I felt like an insufferable wuss for whining about this in public (rather than in private, to Mary, who probably, now that I think of it, would have appreciated you guys taking her shift for once).

Anyway, I had an epiphany on my birthday, realizing that such an occasion, especially at my age, should be a time for reflection, frank self-assessment, and a renewal of purpose. And if I am as honest with myself as I strive -- however imperfectly -- to be, I must further acknowledge that I'm not likely to enjoy the results of any of that, so I should just gorge myself on Zebra Cakes and Meister BraĆ¼ instead.

Unfortunately, the Dollar Tree was out of both, so I've no option but to make up for lost time with a mass birthday bacchanalia, retroactively recognizing all the unremarked natal days in reverse order, starting with...

November 5: Li'l Innocent!  Graceful wordsmith.  Gifted illustrator. Two discrete skills that don't often go together. But while Li'l may have perfected this unlikely union, she didn't invent it, because Chef Boy-ar-dee® beat her to it:

You can make German Pizza by adding sliced knockwurst and sauerkraut (rinsed and drained). Then sprinkle generously with caraway seeds.
That's the key, people. Everyone knows about the rinsed and dried sauerkraut (I like to blow dry mine, then tease it with a rattail comb to give my German Pizzas more loft and bounce), but don't be stingy with the caraway seeds!

November 1: Chris Vosburg!

"Engineer" Vosburg, as he's known around these parts, is a longtime member of the commentariat and an occasional field reporter for Wo'C.  He's a font of Hollywood trivia -- both the locus and the metonym -- and a rich source of fiber and anecdotes about Catalina Island, baseball, Dutch rock bands, print-making, and many other fields of dark and mysterious magic.  He also knows his Star Trek (which I know because he was kind enough to listen to the Star Trek podcast I was on, and live-blog it in the comments), so I think this would be an appropriate entree for his personal feast day:

You will be charmed with these dainty little puddings--
I imagine Russell Crowe as Maximus in Gladiator holding up a fistful of glistening suet to the crowd in the Coliseum and bellowing, "Are you not charmed?"

But frankly, the Atora looks less like a pudding to me, and more like the Horta from the TOS episode Devil in the Dark.

I realize it's a nerdy comparison to draw, but Chris will get it.

October 18: KWillow!  Not only is K a delightfully smart and snarky commenter, she's also one of the nicest people I've ever had the privilege to know, kind to cats and people, and an all around good soul.  I almost feel bad, knowing what's coming out of the kitchen for her...

There's a famous soul food joint in Hollywood called Roscoe's House of Chicken 'n Waffles, which I'm ashamed to say I've never gone to, because whenever I've walked by there's always a huge line (also why I've never had a frankfurter from local institution Pink's Hot Dogs) and because Chicken and Waffles has never struck me as a particularly harmonious pairing. But Waffles and Mushroom Soup?  That's a classic. Waffles and Pimento-stuffed Olives? Who didn't grow up gorging on that every Sunday morning after church? Add drained, flaked tuna, and you've got a dish that'll throw a birthday party on your tongue. Or, if not, at least the cat will eat it.

October 11: Anntichrist S. Coulter!

What can we say about Annti that hasn't been said over the past 13 years? In fact, I believe it was she who inspired the whole birthday party tradition at Wo'C (certainly it was her nic that "inspired" [if that's the word I want and I'm pretty sure it's not] Sheri to celebrate each natal anniversary with an increasingly scary photo of Ann Coulter; probably because Annti's birthdate is hard by Halloween).

Annti is a rara avis, unfailingly empathetic and generous on the one hand, fluent in fifty different dialects of paint-stripping profanity on the other.  The kind of person you only meet once in a lifetime, if that, and one who deserves a tasty and decadent treat in honor of this, the anniversary of the day when she slid through the proscenium arch that is the cervix and began to strut and fret her hour upon the stage.  But since she's going through some particularly hard times at the moment, I think I'll spare her the gorge-hoisting fare and just make do with a Florida Green Anole, because we've gotta have at least one...
Sexy Birthday Lizard!

And, oh, what the heck, let's toss in some Charlize Theron while we're at it...

And finally, we come to the last but not least of the missed birthdays, not least because I missed it first:

October 4: Dr. BDH!

In addition to cracking wise in the comments, Dr. BDH is Wo'C Chief Medical Officer, and as such keeps things bustling at the House of Pain.  So who, I ask you, would be better equipped to whip up an antidote to this:

A Thaw and Serve Salad! And since Doc no doubt spent many a nerve-wracking hour in medical school removing wrenched ankles from bulb-nosed cadavers, I'm sure he can extract this handy fruit salad tray without touching the sides and making that horrible buzzing sound.

And with that, I think we're back on track. So please join me in wishing a very happy (and in most cases, very belated) birthday to Li'l Innocent, Chris V., KWillow, Annti, and Doc.


Meanie-meanie, tickle a person said...

Dr BDH is the only person I know--OK, "know"--OK, have ever heard of who was actually born on Broderick Crawford day. Congratulations! I think... Anyway, it has its own--uncopyrighted!--song:

Happy Brod Day to you
Happy Brod day to you
Happy Brod day dear DrBDHHHHHHHHHHH
Happy Brod Day to you
Ten FOUR!!
[tosses mic back through prowl car window, hits partner in head, shrugs, tugs hat brim]

heydave said...

Happy birthdays, you crazy kids!

Kathy said...

Tuna & Mushroom soup on waffles! OMG. Ohhhhhhh..... I have made tuna & mushroom soup casserole in the past, using Viva Italian salad dressing to "pep it up". I was my families' favorite dish, after enchilada casserole, but lots easier.

But tuna on waffles- man that sounds like something they'd serve you in Merrie Olde Englande, except they'd call it "Gopher-on-a-quilt" or maybe just "Innards". Thanks a lot!

Kathy said...

Oh CRAP. IT! IT was my families' favorite dish. Not I. Blast AND damm!

Meanie-meanie, tickle a person said...

Maybe if the waffles were, like, onion-garlic whole wheat, or something...

DrBDH said...

Thanks, Scott, for reminding me I am getting older.

I've reached the age where I see a picture of myself, or a reflection in a store window, and think, "Who's that old guy?" Maybe I keep working so I can see people my age who look grayer and more wrinkly than me.

No, really, I appreciate the attention, which allows me once a year to hand my laptop to my wife and say, "Look, I'm on the Internet!"

But speaking of beef suet, I have put it in the bird feeder but never on the dinner table. In my childhood home we had lard and butter and Crisco, but never suet. (We also occasionally had Morton TV dinners when my dad had to prepare dinner. They were as appetizing as that picture and as Billy Gibbons says, "I even like the turkey/ If the sauce is not too blue.) But I can't get over the idea that the suet industry once placed ads encouraging people to eat rendered beef fat.

Maybe the paleo diet people can bring back suet. I'll stick with bacon.

Li'l Innocent said...

Oh, Scott, you shouldn't, in your current state of health, be doing the strenuous dumpster-diving picture research it has to take to come up with these - uh - foods. I mean, we birthdayites are flattered and appreciative, but this cannot be good for any part of your anatomy, unless maybe you find a hearty yeccch to be therapeutic, like a slap upside the head from a Zen master?

Anyway, I don't even want to TRY to imagine the vulgarisms flying back and forth between the food photographer and the stylist about those sausages. That would be a job for Annti (happy birthday, babe -- and to youse also, K and Doc and Chris V).

However the thing about the caraway seeds is perfectly true -- an authentic North European thing to do with sauerkraut (Swedes put them on various things too, as I know from my grandma on that side), and very tasty it is. "Sprinkle generously"?... well, don't go nuts. Caraway isn't Parmesan. Be discreet, but unafraid.

Really, Scott, take care of yourself.

grouchomarxist said...

I can't help wondering: If 'Atora' is the good beef suet, who's playing the role of the evil beef suet? Or is this one of those things where you find out in the third act that the suet you thought was the good one was in reality its evil twin, who did away with the good beef suet -- probably to make a bunch of cup-sized steak puddings -- before the others arrived at the isolated mansion?

And doesn't 'Atora' sound like the name of a new character in a certain cheesy Italian film series?

I spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like this. Too much, really.

Happy birthdays, everybody!

Jim Donahue said...

Sorry you're going through a painful period, Scott. Hope you get through it soon.

Debbi said...

I've been so dilatory in leaving comments, it's downright shameful.

Anyway, a big happy birthday to all! :)

Anonymous said...

ANNTI sez...

TWO CREEPY-AS-FUCK ASIDES, then I *promise* to pay this wunnerful post the attention that it deserves!!!


(yes, when I was typing the words, "head shot," I *did* hear a .357 magnum's firing pin click satisfyingly into place, as it should have SSSSOOOOO many times by now... *sigh*) (and yes, it was JUST the sound effect in my head, one stored among millions on what's left of my so-called brain.)

2. Not nearly as traumatic, but unnerving @ the very least: The live-action version of one of my decades-long animation heroines, "Aeon Flux" was NOT the best vehicle that the lovely Charlize could've chosen. Effects were awesome, acting was, well, it varied widely, costumes were theft-worthy, but it just... didn't... WORK. Not in the same horribly clusterfucked way that "DOOM" didn't work, ~that~ was an abomination against all things good & visceral in the universe. The film "Aeon Flux" could NEVER have lived-up to the original animation. Period. Critique aside, right before I finally got custody of the one online machine in my current... abode... guess what came on TV? YOU BETCHA. Okay, so I'd suggested a few new guys this year, too, maybe even a different chick, but Scott's pain-wracked brain was either pre-scanning the scheduling for that day or there's some spooky-as-fuck shit going on with the Wo'C collective unconscious.

Probably already too long-winded at this point, so I'll shut the fuck & start over in the actual THREAD, ok kids? Thanks!


Anonymous said...

ANNTI sez...

Okay, back to something resembling what they tell me is "reality" --- Scott, there are no comparisons in pain. Injuries are not a pissing contest. If you wanna vent, man, VENT, for fuck's sake! Okay, so it didn't pan-out so well for MY short-lived blog, long may she reign (even as a corpse), but if the pain doesn't generate SOME kind of creative/defensive bitch-fest, then WHY BOTHER?!?!? Pfft. As one who has seen more than her "fair share" (as if there IS such a fucking thing!) of pain --- trust yer Ranty Aunty Annti --- if you don't let the pain OUT, your fucking HEAD could EXPLODE!!!

And THAT WAY, panic-tending idiots like ME don't FREAK THE FUCK OUT when you go MIA from the blog AND e-mails. I've lost both filing cabinets of everything that I ever wrote longhand, I've lost more in 45 years than most countries do in a hundred, I AM ***NOT*** LOSING ANY MORE PEOPLE, DAMMIT!!!!!! And not to Li'l-Orphan-Annie the joint up, BUT: if I didn't have my Wo'C family, or at least the dearly-beloveds who still speak to me, I wouldn't have SHIT.

Which also leads me to ask... don't laugh TOO loudly, y'all, but... people used to actually EAT shit like those piles of beef fat that the advertisers laughingly call "puddings"?!??!?! And no, not in the context of JELL-O pudding, my limited understanding of one of the many Limey offenses against the human palate/gut/colon is that even "savory" PUDDINGS are BAKED affairs, with some kind of meaty-fruitcake-type conglomeration going on, not GIANT WADS OF GOOEY FAT SOPPED IN GENERAL-MOTORS-HONEY-BROWN-EXTERIOR-COAT "GRAVY"!!!!!! What, pray tell, were they fucking THINKING?!?!?!

(character-limited edit...)

Anonymous said...

ANNTI continues, yet again... (just keep holding-back those gag-reflexes, kids...)

MOST IMPORTANTLY: Sincere & bone-deep apologies to all whose birfdays that I have missed/cocked-up/neglected over the past couple years, especially our most-recent bunch here: KWillow, dear heart, you not only keep me alive in several different directions, you remind me on a fairly regular basis that some human beings are actually worth far more than just oxygen. Li'l Innocent, you sexy thang you, somehow always manage to show up & bring rare light (and it's pretty fucking rare that I wanna SEE sunshine!) & dirty jokes into my life, just when I need them most. Vosburg... well, it's been a while since we've shot the shit, but you are, incomparably, one of the finest bullshitters that it's ever been my pleasure to know. Dr. BDH, you're an O.C. (Original Crapper) whose wit & wisdom far predate & precede my illiterate frothings by aeons (that's meant as a qualifier, darlin', not a quantifier!), and I, for one, am damned grateful that you are not only still working, but still sharing with us, here.

And Scott, dear heart, I know that my weak-assed barely-under-the-radar birfday wishes didn't come true, but-- if it's the last thing I do on this planet --- somehow, some way, I am going to see you STRAPPED ONTO A FUCKING INVERSION BOARD!!!!!! And no, if it hurts, you are NOT allowed to ENJOY IT!!! (BTW, caught "Videodrome" on TV the other night, don't ask, but OH HOLY FUCK!!! Now I *so* understand the sexist-pig piece-of-shit BDSM-reject first-radio-station "boss" {ha} and his ISSUES!!! See why he's working for WESTWOOD ONE & NIKKI SIXX NOW?!??! Bwuaaahaahaahaahaahaahaaa!!!!!!!)

Heat, rest, cold, rest, heat, rest, cold, remember? When the drugs don't work, baby, or there AREN'T ANY FUCKING DRUGS (or worst of all, they only give you HALF of what's required to be VERTICAL!!!), that's when you HAVE TO GET ***CREATIVE***!!! Shit, I've put myself through shit that'd make "Videodrome" look like SUNDAY SCHOOL, just to not go on my long-dreamed-of shooting spree in order to "ease" the pain. And Mary, honey, if he never gets you that "Magic Wand," even for himself, we'll take up a collection, I promise. Just make the fucker TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF, wouldja?!?!?

Love & knishes (oh, what I wouldn't GIVE for actual KOSHER up here in WEST REDNECKISTAN!!!)

Weird Dave said...

If somebody tried to serve me that 'pudding' (my scare quotes) 'ATORA' (their scare quotes) sounds an awful lot like what I would be aiming for.

Happy Birthdays All!

Anonymous said...

Y'know, Dave, I've often wondered... were you running around nekkid in that picture for any special occasion/Dead concert, or is this just how you greet EVERY day? Heh.

(Nice ass, too, btw. Reminds me of The Boy of long-ago, far-away nights @ the Dragon's Den & what used to be The Dungeon... *sigh*)

Weird Dave said...

OK that made me laugh.

Just to be clear, that picture was taken quite a while ago.

Not at the Dead but very near to the most beautiful place I have ever been able to drive a car, Point Sublime Grand Canyon.
So, yeah, me naked at the elusive West Rim of the Grand Canyon. I am very lucky.

Scott said...

ANNTI sez...

Damned skippy, you're very lucky! I hope that I get to see the Grand Canyon someday, but I guarantee that I won't be permanently scarring the wildlife with the vision of *ME* nekkid!

Remarkable lighting, as well, a really good picture all-around, so to speak. Greeting the dawn, indeed. Heh.

Perfectly cropped, too, eh? Hee hee hee...


I forgot to ask --- dunno why, not running on all 6 cylinders for A LONG FUCKING TIME, prolly why... --- but the sexy little green Florida lizard --- IS HE/SHE CAUGHT IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO when that picture was taken? There's definitely some slightly-more-yellow lizard skin immediately under our featured player, and a lizard ear, so yeah, I think so. Absofuckinglutely caught some sexy lizard coitus. Perv. Heh heh.

Oh, and Dave? If you ever, for whatever logic-forsaken reason, find yourself stranded in or near Amarillo, you MUST go see THEIR Canyon. GAWGEOUS. Windy as a MOTHERFUCKER, but truly a wonder. Much smaller wonder than Le Grande, but beautiful & inimitable nonetheless.