A while ago I noticed the lyrics on my Led Zeppelin poster had a clearly iambic meter. I've been trying to figure out the rest of the song's meter but I figured I'd just put this up for now. I'm having trouble making this post with the unaccented and accented symbols so I just separated the feet and assumed people understand how iambs work.
And as | we wind | on down | the road
Our sha|dows tall|er than | our soul
There walks | a la|dy we | all know
Who shines | white light | and wants | to show
How eve|ry thing | still turns | to gold
And if | you li|sten ve|ry hard
The truth | will come | to you | at last
When all | are one | and one | is all
To be | a rock | and not | to roll
Friday, April 9, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
New Grilled Cheese
Tonight I made a variation on the classic that is the grilled cheese. The other day I made one using some boxing cheddar my dad gave me. It's a white cheddar that's stronger and dryer than normal; with a mildly sweet undertone. Being so dry, it doesn't melt too easy. So the first time I made it I had trouble finding the darkened sandwich in the pan. Upon finding and eating it I was disappointed in the lack of melt in the cheese but as I predicted the flavors were a good match.
So tonight was take two. I started by using less cheese. It's strong enough that I don't need much and I wanted to make sure it melted. I also only have wheat bread, which is fine, but sourdough would have been optimum. I began melting butter in the pan at a low temperature and just before I dropped in the sandwich I decided I needed a little heat to balance the cheese. So I pulled out my trusty bottle of Frank's Red Hot Wing Sauce. I poured in just enough to make the flavor noticeable and the melted butter a bright orange color. With the temperature still low I let the sandwich sit in the pan a little on each side so as to absorb the hot sauce and butter. As soon as the tops of the slices had become slightly soggy and very orange, I turned the heat up to medium-high until the cheese was melted. As soon as the cheese was as I wanted, I upped the temperature to almost as high as it goes so as to dry out the slices and give the bread that porous, crunchy texture that makes grilled cheese so delicious.
The end result was satisfying but I think it needs some veggie in it. So next time, along with the use of sourdough rather than wheat, I'm thinking of throwing in either onion, carrot, or maybe even celery.
So tonight was take two. I started by using less cheese. It's strong enough that I don't need much and I wanted to make sure it melted. I also only have wheat bread, which is fine, but sourdough would have been optimum. I began melting butter in the pan at a low temperature and just before I dropped in the sandwich I decided I needed a little heat to balance the cheese. So I pulled out my trusty bottle of Frank's Red Hot Wing Sauce. I poured in just enough to make the flavor noticeable and the melted butter a bright orange color. With the temperature still low I let the sandwich sit in the pan a little on each side so as to absorb the hot sauce and butter. As soon as the tops of the slices had become slightly soggy and very orange, I turned the heat up to medium-high until the cheese was melted. As soon as the cheese was as I wanted, I upped the temperature to almost as high as it goes so as to dry out the slices and give the bread that porous, crunchy texture that makes grilled cheese so delicious.
The end result was satisfying but I think it needs some veggie in it. So next time, along with the use of sourdough rather than wheat, I'm thinking of throwing in either onion, carrot, or maybe even celery.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Rambling Sentances
As god watches I undergo plastic surgery from a monkey who spent his afternoon being fucked by a psychiatrist with dog sized monkey wrench for a penis. Houses of marshmallow melt into the pavement during a freak snowstorm of Snickers bars and blood. Underground the birds fly through turquoise flavored pudding. A dragon skipped breakfast because he's running late for work at the mousetrap factory. Never again will the feathered prostitute find nickels in her child's teeth when she comes home from battle. Fire erupts from manholes and children dive into them with their ice cream money clenched between her toes. Televisions are assaulted by clones of Elvis impersonators with sniper rifles made of cocaine filled eclairs. A bearded hobo applies for a job as a porn star on Mars because oxygen is a thing of the past. Big bells are trapped in cages made of the screenplays of mice hungry for pussycats. The snow globe is tipped forward onto its sullen face of virgin mushroom clouds. Clouds devour light bulbs and spit mayonnaise into the ears of ants. Fifty and a half midget hairs are being held up on the C train by an AK-47 wielding cans of beans.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Mid-mid-life Crisis
I wonder what it is I want to do with myself. Before this month is over I will be 20 years old. Chances are I'm about a quarter through my life. I think I now understand when people go through a mid-life crisis. I used to think, if these people are freaking out about being old, why don't they use what time they still have left to accomplish something with their lives. Make a lasting impression upon the world. But even if one gets over the crippling realization that no one or no thing will be remembered forever and that the entire concept of Earth could be wiped away at any moment in one big mushroom cloud, there still lies the fact that in the grand scheme of the universe, nothing that anyone ever does will matter. Even if someone tears this dimension to nothing and the mere idea that anything existed ceases to exist, the universe certainly won't care. I could discover immortality or kill all life and what would it matter either way.
So if I'm not going to spend my life trying to be something significant then I think all I want from life is job satisfaction. But before I can do that I need to figure out what the hell kind of job would satisfy me that I have some sort of chance of getting. I'd love to spend my time sitting around and writing short stories but so do a lot of other people and the world will only pay so many people to live like that. A couple of weeks ago I emailed the Travel Channel to pitch an idea for a show. I'm thinking of sending one to the Food Network, too. I enjoy college to a point but I feel like I need to start making as many attempts at finding a way to get through my life, that won't drive me insane, as I possibly can. I'm starting to get desperate.
So if I'm not going to spend my life trying to be something significant then I think all I want from life is job satisfaction. But before I can do that I need to figure out what the hell kind of job would satisfy me that I have some sort of chance of getting. I'd love to spend my time sitting around and writing short stories but so do a lot of other people and the world will only pay so many people to live like that. A couple of weeks ago I emailed the Travel Channel to pitch an idea for a show. I'm thinking of sending one to the Food Network, too. I enjoy college to a point but I feel like I need to start making as many attempts at finding a way to get through my life, that won't drive me insane, as I possibly can. I'm starting to get desperate.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Materialism
A while ago I decided I wasn’t going to waste my time and money on keeping trendy. I had seen too many people so obsessed with whatever new gadget or thing was out that it was sadly comical. After a while of going along with this materialistic, sorrow circus I realized that the effort was rarely worth the payoff. New toys are fun but they’re expensive. And it seems no matter how much you buy there’s always going to be that next or better thing that you desire. It’s not as if I don’t want things anymore. I’ve simply done what I can to keep it from being the focus of my life. But with the death of any problem there rises at least one more to take its place. Now that material gain isn’t my focus in life, I’m not sure what is.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Ghetto Commandments: A Shakespearean Sonnet
These rules are those of ghetto life and times,
commandments passed on down from gangstas dead.
Followers live but those with ghetto crimes
about to lose their motherfucking head.
To be a bitch is not to breathe the air
or weed you will puff twice then pass to me.
No snitching, dog, and even hoes most fair,
you won't betroth; and hustle will be free.
The real will recognize the other real
and only models, bottles pop on to.
One can't have fun without friends in the deal
and neighbors' bitches you come not on to.
These ghetto laws have every life-lease.
Commandment number ten: fuck the police.
commandments passed on down from gangstas dead.
Followers live but those with ghetto crimes
about to lose their motherfucking head.
To be a bitch is not to breathe the air
or weed you will puff twice then pass to me.
No snitching, dog, and even hoes most fair,
you won't betroth; and hustle will be free.
The real will recognize the other real
and only models, bottles pop on to.
One can't have fun without friends in the deal
and neighbors' bitches you come not on to.
These ghetto laws have every life-lease.
Commandment number ten: fuck the police.
My Grandpa's Obituary
I found this obituary online when I Googled my mom's dad. It made me a lot sadder than I thought it would. It made me stop for a second when I read my name listed under grandchildren. Sort of a grim reminder that someone is going to write an obituary about me someday. Probably doesn't help that I was named after him.
Lawrence Struwe, 77
FALLBROOK —— Lawrence "Scottie" Struwe, 77, died at home Thursday, Oct. 20, 2005.
Born May 2, 1928, in Albany, N.Y., he was a resident of Fallbrook for 32 years. He retired in 1976 as a Chief Warrant Officer after serving 27 years in the U.S. Marine Corps. He was a member of St. Peter's Catholic Church. He was an avid golfer.
Mr. Struwe was preceded in death by his wife, Jane Struwe, in 2001. He is survived by his son and daughter-in-law Tim and Jana Struwe of Lake Elsinore; daughters and sons-in-law Yvette and Larry Johnson of Citrus Heights and Candace and Chris Pocino of Long Beach; sister Arlette Bradford of Arkansas; grandchildren Danielle, Jessica, Christina, Jennifer, Sara, Katie, Lawrence and Natalie; and great-grandson Michael.
There will be a memorial service at 11 a.m. Oct. 29, at Berry-Bell & Hall Mortuary, 333 N. Vine St., Fallbrook.
Memorial donations are suggested to the National Foundation for Cancer Research, 4600 East West Highway Suite 525, Bethesda, MD 20814.
Berry-Bell & Hall Fallbrook Mortuary is handling arrangements.
Lawrence Struwe, 77
FALLBROOK —— Lawrence "Scottie" Struwe, 77, died at home Thursday, Oct. 20, 2005.
Born May 2, 1928, in Albany, N.Y., he was a resident of Fallbrook for 32 years. He retired in 1976 as a Chief Warrant Officer after serving 27 years in the U.S. Marine Corps. He was a member of St. Peter's Catholic Church. He was an avid golfer.
Mr. Struwe was preceded in death by his wife, Jane Struwe, in 2001. He is survived by his son and daughter-in-law Tim and Jana Struwe of Lake Elsinore; daughters and sons-in-law Yvette and Larry Johnson of Citrus Heights and Candace and Chris Pocino of Long Beach; sister Arlette Bradford of Arkansas; grandchildren Danielle, Jessica, Christina, Jennifer, Sara, Katie, Lawrence and Natalie; and great-grandson Michael.
There will be a memorial service at 11 a.m. Oct. 29, at Berry-Bell & Hall Mortuary, 333 N. Vine St., Fallbrook.
Memorial donations are suggested to the National Foundation for Cancer Research, 4600 East West Highway Suite 525, Bethesda, MD 20814.
Berry-Bell & Hall Fallbrook Mortuary is handling arrangements.
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