Posts (page 2)
It's a little early to tell, but I think it's going to rock. It's nice to work for a place that assumes you're an adult and not a child.
More later.
I'm dreaming of a white Hiro Nakamura,
Just like the ones we used to know.
White Christmas
from the Christmas Song Generator.
A child, a child,
Shivers in the cold,
Let us bring him silver and dead bodies.
Do You Hear What I Hear
from the Christmas Song Generator.
The First Fuck You
The angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds
In fields as they lay.
The First Noel
from the Christmas Song Generator.
There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time,
The greatest gift they'll get this year is Fuck you.
Do They Know It's Christmas
from the Christmas Song Generator.
If anyone's interested in the process and recipe, I have pictures up on Flickr. They're friends-and-family only at the moment, but I think most folks who are in my Vox neighborhood are also already Flickr friends.
It's probably just Alex and Todd interested anyway, and Alex, I think, has lots else on his mind right now.
Mmmmmm, homemade cherry-vanilla bitters taste goddamn great in a Manhattan! Mmmmmmmmmmm.
So, Alex...
I went out to one of the good tobacconists in town after work and picked up a whoppin' Tatuaje, a big flavor bomb of a Cuban-style stogie from Nicaragua. Jen and I had a bit of Belgian ale first, along with cheese and bread, as an after-work snack, and then we repaired outside with the rest of the ale so I could light up.
A cigar that big took some time to smoke, so after we finished the ale, Jen ran inside and brought out some bourbon on the rocks, which tasted great with the cigar. It's nice to sit out on the stoop, chatting with the neighbors (the friendly ones), and relaxing in the nice weather.
After a while, Jen went back inside to get dinner started, and I stayed out to finish my smoke. But unfortunately, I rushed things too much and started feeling a little green. I finished the smoke a little early, extinguished it, and came back inside for some water to settle my stomach.
But first I had to put my lighter and cutter back on the mantle in the bedroom. So I sat my glass down on the desk, walked into the bedroom...
...and projectile-vomited a stomach's worth of half-digested cheese and bread, along with bourbon and ale.
I've had hiccups and headaches from smoking too fast, but this is the first time I've puked. Unfortunately, my appetite's just totally wiped out.
Jen was going to make scallops in a saffron-cream sauce, but there's no way I can hold that down. I can't even eat a cracker right now, two hours after ralfing! Christ, even swallowing a chewed-up Rolaids triggered my gag reflex.
All I can take now is some chicken broth that Jen made last night.
I'm such a dumbass.
