I've been working on this one for a while. I posted the lyrics and a really crappy demo a while ago. Since then, I--with the help of tRJ--decided that a chorus and stuff would be lame, so I decided to keep a simple verse-verse-verse-verse format. To keep it interesting, I tried to amp up the tension and energy as the song progresses. I'll let you guys tell me how that goes.

The whole thing culminates in what I hope is a blistering climax. In order to make the thing a little more energetic, I did two guitar solos. But, instead of doing them one after the other, I did them at the same time. That's right, this is a guitar duel of sorts, except that I was trying to make them work together rather than against each other in an antagonistic sort of way. Except for the very beginning and the part where the two guitars are playing the same thing (separated by an octave), both solos were entirely improvised. There were some really neat little accidents (like when I swipe my hand up the strings at the same time on both tracks), but there were also some not-as-good parts.

The biggest weakness is the drum performance which I attribute entirely to the fact that I'm a guitarist, not a drummer. I think it's serviceable for most of the song, but there are times when it's really far off beat, and that bothers me, but I don't have the energy to re-record the drums. It took me hours to get this track--I'm reminded of that scene from the Simpson where Mr. Burns makes a movie: "Two-hundred takes and that was the best one."

Anyway, I think that the bones of this song are really good. I love the lyrics and I like the flow and idea of the song. The execution needs work, I'll admit, but I think this is one of the better things I've done. Please let me know what you think.

Also, please let me know if you can think of any title that doesn't suck--I haven't been able to think of one and I wrote this thing over a year ago.

The Lovers of Sight and Sound - Untitled

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , The Lovers of Sight and Sound

Chelsadilla and I got to play host to her sister and her sister's boyfriend this weekend, and it was a lot of fun. It was cool to see things that I take for granted from the perspective of someone who had never been here before. And it was also cool to realize just how much I love Madison and Wisconsin generally.

It's easy to reduce Wisconsin to a few stereotypical things: beer, cheese, the Packers. But while those stereotypes are certainly warranted, there's so much more going on here. Whether you're having a meat and cheese platter at the Weary Traveler, staring up at the ceiling in the capitol rotunda, or walking around the UW campus, it's hard not to conclude that this state and the people who live here are pretty fucking awesome.

We were walking around the capitol square, and chelsadilla and I were explaining about the farmer's market. It was perhaps the first time that I realized how awesome the farmer's market is: hundreds of people come and sell food--some of it award-winning--that they grew or made themselves. Some of this food literally goes from the farm to the dinner table in less than a day--how fucking awesome is that? And how lucky am I to live in a state that has such ridiculous agricultural capabilities?

We were walking inside the capitol building, and it's just breathtaking. It took hundreds of workers eleven years to build the capitol, and anyone who's ever been inside of it might reasonably wonder how they were able to accomplish something so awesome in such a shot period of time. The building is just astoundingly beautiful, and especially so in the late afternoon when the sun streams through the skylights in the perfect manner. And you can just walk up the stems and go right in. If the senate is in session, you can sit there and watch them. You can watch the justices of the supreme court listen to oral arguments. You can walk up to the door of the governor's office and touch the badger's nose for good luck. The gears of our government are right there for you to observe, and in a building that glorifies the state government and the people from which it draws its authority.

We were standing at the Terrace and I couldn't help but think about what a beautiful outdoor space it is. The whole University is just so massively impressive, it's hard to understand, really. Everything about this school--the buildings, the students, the history--is impressive. And I graduated from here! I'm really proud that I can say that, especially when I'm driving down Observatory Dr. past vine-covered towers and awesomely maintained gardens.

I'm not a Wisconsin native, but I've got this to say to those of you who are: You've got a good thing going here.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Dan Aykroyd has apparently lost his mind. If you doubt that, you should check out the video at the website for his newest business venture, Crystal Head Vodka. This thing has apparently been all over the place for a while now because, well, Elwood Blues manages to somehow relate extraterrestrials, ghosts, and parallel dimensions to, umm, vodka. I mean, don't get me wrong--I love vodka, but it's no proof of the divine.

Anyway, when I was excited when I heard that Mr. Aykroyd was going to be here, in Madison, at the west-side Woodman's (a local grocery store), promoting his vodka but also signing random shit. So was tRJ, who joined me. I also dragged chelsadilla along. My plan was to buy some of the vodka, get him to sign it, and then produce a can of Cheez Whiz and ask him to sign that, too. It was going to be awesome. And sad: I frankly expected there to be about four people standing around all looking really awkward.

So I was shocked when we arrived and there was a huge fucking line. In fact, the line was so long that they were prohibiting new people from getting into the line. So the whole "get an autographed can of aerosol cheese" idea failed. So we stood around and watched Dan Aykroyd sign things and talk to people, and he seemed like a decent guy. He was smiling and posing for pictures and signing pretty much anything people put in front of him. And we were still able to get signed vodka--although only the box was signed, not the awesome glass skull bottle.

As tRJ and I left, he shouted "Thanks, Dan," which struck me as a good idea, so I did it, too. I don't think any of you will be surprised to learn that I did it much louder than tRJ. So loud, in fact, that Dan actually looked up and smiled at me. He motherfuckin' acknowledged me.

So now I can add Dan Aykroyd to the list of celebrities I've had strange encounters with. For those of you keeping score, I've also met Conan O'Brien (who told me to only do drugs after watching his show, not before), and B.B. King (who seemed more perplexed than anything).

Oh, and how's the vodka? I don't know yet. I put it in the freezer to chill but I haven't had any yet since, you know, it's Wednesday. I'll report back, though.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Funny Shit

I almost never eat breakfast. Certainly not on weekdays. Eating breakfast would require waking up, like, half an hour earlier, and fuck that. So when lunch comes around, I'm fucking hungry. But here's the thing: half the time, I don't eat lunch, either. Sometimes this is because I didn't bring a lunch and I don't feel like spending the money on something and other times it's because I don't have time to eat. Yeah, sure, if you added up all the time I spend reading the Superficial, I'd have ample time for lunch, but that's not the point.

Some days, though, I just can't not eat. I wasn't planning on eating today--I had a one o'clock appearance in one county and then a 3:15 appearance in another, and I wanted to get some work done between the two. But by the time I had done the first appearance and was driving to the second, I was starving. So I made a choice out of desperation and hunger: I went to McDonald's.

Let me be clear about this: I hate McDonald's. But it's fast, it's cheap, it's nearby no matter where you are, and I have these flashbacks to when I was a kid and I loved that shit. So when I'm hard up for a quick, cheap meal, it's my go-to spot.

But, inevitably, I get the food and I'm reminded of how amazingly bad--and bad for you--it is. Everything except the fries is just nasty. And even the fries are just oily salt.

So here's the thing: I'm done with McDonald's forever. I went years without eating it in college, then I got sucked back in somehow. But not this time. I'm never going back. It's that simple.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Restaurant and Bar Reviews

Mr. Vice, RPM, and I were at Five Guys this afternoon picking up some food before heading back to RPM's place to watch the Battlestar Galactica finale (which, despite the efforts of RPM's DVR, was awesome). And it was then that I saw one of the biggest douches ever acting like a giant fucking douche. And then I called him on it.

I don't know how many of you have been to Five Guys, but it's this burger place. It's pretty good. One of the distinctive things about it is that they have giant boxes full of peanuts for you to eat while you wait for your food. They also have little paper boats for you to scoop these peanuts up and take them to your table. The other thing they have is trash cans. Most of the boxes of peanuts are on top of trash cans.

So, since we were heading back to RPM's place right away and not eating in the restaurant, we were waiting around by the soda fountain. I noticed a couple of guys sitting in chairs next to a trash can that had a box of peanuts on it. I noticed that these guys were douchebags right away. They were wearing skinny jeans and those infuriatingly bright white assjacket shoes that people wear nowadays. I think the leader was wearing a fucking scarf or some sort of entirely inappropriate neckwear. It's fucking gorgeous and warm, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, I overheard some of their conversation as I took peanuts from the box and then discarded the shells in the trash can. It was stupid, but not particularly infuriating. Then they got up, and I looked down at the floor under the chairs they had been sitting in. It was littered with peanut shells. There was a little mound right under where they had been sitting. I looked around and saw the lead douchebag, the one with the neckwear.

"Are those yours?" I asked, pointing at the shells covering the floor.

"Yeah?" he responded in the douchiest possible tone.

"That makes you kind of a douchebag, dude," I said.

"Have you ever been to the original Five Guys?" he asked me.

"No, I haven't. What the fuck does that have to do with anything, asshole?" I said.

"That's what they want you to do there. You just don't understand," he says.

I explained to him that regardless of what the standard practice was at some other restaurant, the fact of the matter was that now some Five Guys employee was going to have to clean up after his ass because he was to fucking lazy to use the trash can he was sitting right fucking next to. He repeated that I didn't understand because I hadn't been to the original Five Guys, and then he said "You bore me" and walked away.

What the fuck, dudes? I mean, I have no idea what the accepted practices at any other Five Guys are, but it seems to me that unless this particular restaurant has a sign that says "Everyone, please throw all your crap right there on our floor. No, seriously, it's cool," then you shouldn't fuck up someone else's place I mean, isn't that one of the first lessons we learn as children? When you're in someone else's house, you respect the fuck out of it, right?

But this fucker thinks he's above that shit. He thinks that part of the appeal of Five Guys is that you can go in and trash it and they don't say anything. That's just fucking... rude. I mean, deeply, offensively rude. No?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Horribly Inappropriate Things I've Said , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

You know what annoys me? Using the word "dear." Not so much when people say, for example, "Did you pick up the things I asked you for, Dear?" Cause on the scale of nicknames for a significant other, "dear" isn't that offensive. I mean, it's not "schnookybottoms" or anything like that. No, what I'm talking about is when people say "I went to visit my dear friends Tom and Jane." What the fuck kind of person talks like that? It just sounds so pretentious and insincere. Am I alone on this one?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 7:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

So, nearly half of you seem to value intelligence over attractiveness or wealth. Or, more accurately, 48 percent of you would rather be more intelligent than more something else. I respect that, yo.

But now it's time to get down to serious business. My new poll really concerns something both germane and critical to the state of modern American life. The topic, my friends, is this: what's the best Coolio song?

This is a debate of long standing between Mr. Vice and myself. He contends that "Fantastic Voyage" is the best. I think that's a great song, but I don't think it holds a candle to "Gangsta's Paradise." I mean, it just doesn't.

So now you get to vote. Which is best: "Fantastic Voyage," "Gangsta's Paradise," or that other song he did.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 5:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Polls

You know what I did today? I fucking turned on the AC in my car. Cause it was hot in there. I mean, maybe not scorching, and maybe I was just overreacting, but the point is that I didn't need the heater. It was a fucking beautiful day today.

The end of winter sometimes makes me sad. I like the way the lakes look when they're frozen over, but now they're all liquid again. Which just seems unnatural, really. Also, there's all the lingering snow that's holding on for dear life. I find the thought of that really depressing for some reason.

But the end of winter is also really awesome. I mean, you can go outside without having to be afraid of losing appendages. You can, like chelsadilla, look for "treasures" that have been hiding under the snow all winter. You can go for walks. And, soon, you'll be able to go to the fucking Terrace which, let's face it, is the best place in Madison. And geocaching!

The point is, I'm ready for spring. I'm ready for summer.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

Some day, I will own a home. And when I do, I want it to be super badass. To that end, here are some things I really, really want in a home.

Stone
I want this thing built like an ancient fortress. I want ramparts and a tower. It would be so awesome to have a round tower a story taller than the rest of the house from which you could lord over the neighborhood. So awesome.

And, of course, the whole thing would have to be made out of stone. Like, by stonemasons. That would be so fucking badass.

Technology
I've heard about how when you go into Bill Gates's house, you put on these badges that follow your location and adjust the area around you to your liking. So, for example, if you move from the bedroom down the hall to the family room, the house will take your light settings with you. That's cool, but I don't like the badges idea. I do like the idea of voice-activated lights and overly complex touchscreen control panels on the walls. Those things would control lighting, the remote-controlled fireplaces, blinds, climate controls, and all the other super-fancy shit I'd have.

I'm thinking of the Enterprise-D here, people. Tell me that wouldn't be awesome? In a house made to look like an ancient castle?

A library
A massive library like at fucking Harvard or Oxford or something. There'd be super-comfy chairs for reading as well as display stands for, I don't know, a Gutenberg Bible or something.

A recording studio
I'm not talking about anything ridiculous here, just something in the basement, maybe consisting of two or three small rooms. Basically, I just want a place where I can turn my amp up to eleven without incurring the wrath of the neighbors.

A massive, state-of-the-art kitchen
I'm talking about something with a huge gas range with, like, a thousand burners. One of those double ovens. A refrigerator the size of a school bus. Dark granite countertops. Beautiful, dark wood cabinets. Badass fixtures. A breakfast bar. A dishwasher (I've never had a dishwasher, I think it would be cool to have one).

A huge garden with tons of trees and flowers
I want something like what my parents have. Lots of trees and shade and cozy place to lie in the grass. Water features and a little stream. Woodland creatures. That sort of shit.

A workshop
I just decided this today, but I want a workshop. I want a place where I can have a lot of tools and make shit. Like, out of wood or metal or something. Ever seen the New Yankee Workshop? I want something like that, and I want to learn to make shit that's just as badass.

In general, I'd want my home to be extremely cozy, warm, inviting, but most of all unique. I've had the privilege of being inside a bunch of houses of varying worth and size. The family of a friend of a friend owns a giant house outside of Chicago. Each kid has a wing. The grounds are ginormous, and there's a heart-shaped pond. But I didn't like that house very much because while it was clearly very expensive, it was also a very by-the-numbers affair. On the other hand, my favorite house is one owned by a law professor at the UW. The professor's wife is an artist, and the house shows. Every room has at least one extremely unique feature that both fits with the overall motif and stands out on its own. One of the bathrooms has a shower that feels like it's in a jungle. One of the walls in the kitchen is obscured by curving pieces of wood that wrap around into the living room. It's just an awesome house, even though it's not very big.

So, yeah. I'm looking forward to building a house sometime in the next, I don't know, forty years.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

One of my favorite restaurants in Phoenix was this place called YC's Mongolian Grill. It was the first Mongolian BBQ place I ever went to, and it's still my favorite. There was this whole ritual to the thing. The regulars handed down secret arcane knowledge about how to pack the most food into the bowls.

You had to construct your bowl correctly. First, you start off with the meat. But you had to compact the meat enough to serve as a solid foundation for the rest of your bowl. You could use another bowl for this task, but I preferred using my fists. The next item in line was the noodles, but the experienced customer knew that the right thing to do was take a generous portion of the dry noodles and put them on your tray, not in your bowl. You'd move on to the veggies and sauces, and then stack the noodles on top. A properly executed bowl was a masterwork of structural engineering. I once crammed so much food into a bowl that it was foot high and had to be split into two bowls even after it was cooked.

So, with these fond memories in mind, I decided that chelsadilla and I would try out BD's Mongolian BBQ. To be honest, I won't be going back.

I should have known things were fucked up when I called up to ask about their hours and the woman answered "Thanks for calling BD's. Go Mongo!" Go mongo? Really? That's not even a word. And even as a pseudoword, it seems pretty fucking racist to me. Still, I wasn't discouraged. But I should have been.

When we got there, they served us a menu, which was interesting seeing as how the whole point is to go make your own stir-fry. That's what I did. The meat selections were impressive, but I was put off by the "krab." What really turned me off at first, though, was the noodle selection. Just two things: some twirly spiral noodle and short, fat, round noodles. Neither seemed appropriate, and I couldn't fit any into my bowl. It was lame.

The vegetable choices were uninspired. Onions, mushrooms, bean sprouts. Wow.

But I knew things were completely wrong when I got to the sauces. There were about four of them, and they all sucked. Also, instead of putting your sauce right there in the bowl, they wanted you to use a little ramekin, probably because they wanted to limit the amount of sauce people used. To save money. Which is lame. I bypassed the system and used two ramekins.

The results were pretty meh-tacular. Nothing distinctive or really enjoyable. And I had to pay for white rice, which was pathetic.

Chelsadilla had the unlimited soup and salad bar. The salad bar was pretty unspectacular, and the clam chowder--which she got by accident--was terrible. She liked the chicken dumpling soup better, but it was hardly impressive.

Add to this the fact that the entire thing was overpriced and there's absolutely no reason for anyone to go to BD's instead of Flattop. Flattop is better in literally every single way. Throw in the free rice, better noodle choices, and the free flatbread, an Flattop is hands down better.

There is no reason for BD's to exist, and I hope it goes away soon.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Restaurant and Bar Reviews

What in the fuck is going on with Rhianna? I mean, fucking seriously?

Let me see if I understand this. Some dude repeatedly punches you in the face on the night before the Grammys leaving you bruised and swollen and you think, "Hey, well, whatever, now I'll just get back together with him. I'm sure he was just stressed." I don't fucking get it.

There's a lot to be said for forgiving someone. Holding a grudge isn't good for anyone, and at some point being continually angry at someone else is just giving that person power over you. So, fine, forgive. But there's a huge gulf between forgiving and reconciling, yes? I understand the former, but I can't wrap my head around the latter.

I see this sort of shit happen all the time, and it just doesn't make any sense to me. It outrages me, frankly. And I hadn't really realized why until a few minutes ago.

I'm concerned for these women because they choose to stay in relationships that are not only emotionally unhealthy but physically traumatic. That's bad and scary enough. But what I just realized really frustrates me about it is the bigger picture: something is going on that makes these women think that, on some level, it's ok for a man to hit his girlfriend or wife.

Rhianna is apparently surrounded by smart, caring people. She's rich and famous. People tell me she's talented and pretty (I don't like her music and her looks don't do much for me, but that's not the point). If anything, her story demonstrates that even powerful women put up with abuse for no apparent reason.

There is apparently something very wrong with the process by which little girls turn into women in our society. This isn't news, of course, but that doesn't make it any less sad.

I've been lucky in that almost without exception, the women I've been close to in my life have been smart, assertive, awesome people. So here are my questions to them and anyone else: why do women stay with abusive men? And how can we ensure that as few women as possible make that particular choice?

Of course, I want to make something clear: it's never right for a man to hit his significant other without her consent. Never. I don't care if he caught her fucking another dude while burning down his house. It's not ok. I'm focusing on the question of why a woman would choose to stay with an abusive partner, which I think is a dumb thing to do. But a man who beats his girlfriend is always wrong, it's always his fault, and he should always pay a price.

Update:
I just want to be clear about something. It's never a woman's fault when a man abuses her. Ever. If a man beats his wife and the wife stays and the man beats her again, it's not the wife's fault. It is never a woman's fault that her husband abuses her.

And I also have to acknowledge that some proportion of abused women lack a choice. Some women stay not because they choose to but because they can't not. I understand that, even though I have no idea what percentage of women fall into that category.

My greater point, I think, remains. There are cases--Rihanna's is one of them--where women who seemingly do have a choice stay in an abusive relationship. Any abuse is too much. But I think it's especially concerning that many women who could get out of these situations don't.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (17)| Filed under Philosophical Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

So, chelsadilla and I went to dinner tonight at Tex Tubb's Taco Palce. It was pretty decent, although their Mexican rice sucked the fat cock. But while the food was ok, the highlight of the evening was the unexpected appearance of Dr. Lady.

Yes, the M.D. who pulled out a journal article on our "date" showed up. She must have seen me, but she didn't acknowledge me. I only saw her after she was walking away from us, so I didn't have to pretend that i didn't see her in order to excuse my avoiding her. They sat Dr. Lady and her two companions one booth away as I explained to chelsadilla about the date Dr. Lady and I had been on. I forget which one of us did it, but someone pointed out that she was in the company of a couple, making her the standard third wheel.

Chelsadilla and I enjoyed our dinner and occasionally poked fun at Dr. Lady. I mentioned that I had clearly won in the situation, seeing as how chelsadilla is pretty awesome. Then chelsadilla overheard Dr. Lady say something that I thought was kind of strange. Dr. Lady, who'll you'll recall was possibly more rotund than I am, said to her very slender friend, "You're really serious with the diet thing. You're almost like gross skinny." Or something to that effect. Doesn't that just seem, I don't know, wrong? Wouldn't that be sort of like George W. Bush saying "Hey, Barrack, I think you're taking this 'being smart' thing with too much seriousitude."

Then chelsadilla and I walked back to her place and made chocolate-chip cookies. Yeah, I won.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Restaurant and Bar Reviews

I'm gonna keep this short just because I know a lot of people haven't seen it yet. Although I'm not gonna give any spoilers here, you might not wanna read this if you haven't seen it yet, just cause, you know, yeah.

So here's what I have to say: meh.

I'm not disappointed at all, really. The movie was faithful to and even reverent of the book. It respected the characters and the plot and it took it all seriously. There were some changes--one of which was pretty major--but they didn't hurt the story. They might have improved it, actually.

But still, I'm left feeling decidedly "meh" about the whole thing. I can trace this to a few factors. First, I wasn't overwhelmed by a sense of impending doom like I was when I read the book. The story is about humanity on the very brink of destruction, and I just didn't get that sense from the film. Second, I think that some of the casting decisions were questionable. I'm thinking specifically about Ozymandias here. He looked like a scrawny man-boy, not the world's smartest and most physically fit man. And I also think that, while cuts are very necessary, Ozymandias's backstory shouldn't have been cut nearly as much as it was. I mean, dude, Ozymandias is kind of important.

Finally, I thought there were some really cheesy moments. Sometimes it was a line delivered in the exact wrong way and other times it was just a bad line from the start, but there were enough of those moments that it lessened my enjoyment of the movie slightly.

Overall, I thought this thing was enjoyable, but I'm not in a rush to see it again. But it's definitely worth seeing once, and I would say that I probably enjoyed it less than any of the other people I saw it with. So I hope you enjoy it, too, when you see it. Which you should.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Movie Reviews

Some of you--chelsadilla, I'm looking at you here (side note: do you know how hard it was not to type an "@" symbol before her name? Twitter rocks!)--might belittle the blowtorch I bought and call it a "kitchen torch" or a "cooking torch." Well, if you belittle my motherfuckin' blowtorch, you can fuck right off. Also, the next person who makes fun of the blowtorch gets no creme brulee.

Because, you see, I am now the master of the creme brulee. I'm in love with this shit, and now I can make it.

I had never had this particular dessert until a few weeks ago when chelsadilla and I went out for dinner at Biaggi's, some slightly more up-scale than the Olive Garden Italian place. I had never had creme brulee, so when I saw it on the menu, I decided I'd give the thing a try. And it was awesome. So. Fucking. Awesome.

Then, this weekend, bolstered by false confidence in my own cooking abilities thanks to recent successes in the area of imitating Jamie Oliver, I decided I was up to the task of making creme brulee myself. So chelsadilla and I went to Orange Tree Imports--which is awesome--and I bought this kit that came with a blowtorch and four ramekins.

We came back here, invited some people over, hung out, and pH helped me take a swing at the creme brulee thing. That first attempt was decent, I'm told, although I was disappointed. The custards came out really oily, although they tasted good. I don't know where we went wrong, although I blame my sauce pan. Other potential culprits include my incessant need to whisk the cream and the possibility that I overcooked these things.

So tonight, frustrated at what I viewed as a culinary defeat, I decided to try again since, well, the total cost of ingredients is about $2.00 and there's really not that much work involved. I followed a different, slightly simpler recipe and was taken aback by the results. Frankly, these things rock. Thanks to pH's instructions about how to handle the whole "make the egg yolks hot but don't cook them" issue, I totally succeeded this time around.

Creme brulee is now my favorite dessert. I just can't believe that this thing involves literally four ingredients and about ten minutes' worth of actual work.

Awesome.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I've previously admitted that I love the show Tool Academy. For those of you not in the know, Tool Academy is built on probably the best reality-show idea ever. Nine guys sign up for a competition they think is called "Mr. Awesome," but what's really going on is that the guys' girlfriends have signed the guys up for the show because, well, the girls think the guys are giant tools. And they're completely right.

At the end of each episode, one tool gets eliminated (the line the host delivers is awesome: "You're just a tool"--way better than "You're fired"). Then the eliminated tool has to go face his girlfriend who has to choose whether to dump him or stay with him. Unfortunately, they usually stay.

Tonight, the show started off with three remaining tools after one of the biggest tools ever--Tommy--was booted off last week and then dumped by his entirely fake girlfriend. The remaining contenders were Matsuflex, an anime reject; Shawn, a surfer-Flock of Seagulls failure pile; and Josh, some sort of bowling tool. Those I was watching with generally agreed, I think that Josh has the biggest chance of winning since, in the grand scheme of things, he's really not that big of a tool. But there was some debate as to whether Shawn or Matsuflex (real name: Ryan) was the biggest remaining tool. I contended that Shawn was because he started a pointless fight and screamed the immortal words "What's up now, bro?!" I think after his later outbursts, most people agreed he was worse. But in case there was any lingering doubt, I give you his MySpace profile.

Check it out. Look around. Really digest that fucker. And then go over and read his "About Me" section. Because then, my friend, you are in for a fucking treat. To wit:

I am genuine to the tee. I Party like a rockstar. I do business mostly out at clubs. I love arm candy. I hate haters. I am an open book so feel free to expose dirt, cause when u dig in the dirt, your only gonna get dirtier. Be careful for what u wish for cause it will bite u in the ass. When life throws sand, swallow it...light your ass on fire, and shit proper glass art, including a 6 foot bong. Then take a hit. But a proper hit like a gram of kush. Then go about your day with a fresh green tea to contemplate life. After that, run up a mountain just to talk shit to it about defeat. The mountain will be depressed and defeated but still acknowledge that u kicked it's sorry ass. If the time calls for it, flip the mountain over and make it scream for mercy. Then go about your night life. Drink. Girls. Drink More. More Girls. Then contact a mathmatician to calculate quantity vs. quantity of ass you are pending. When your accountant comes up with a number, multiply it times ten and you get your prefabricated estimate of your future girl. She is hot, none the less

My favorite sentence:

When life throws sand, swallow it...light your ass on fire, and shit proper glass art, including a 6 foot bong.

That's just fucking . . . . amazing. That's what it is. This guy is a real person who's actually out there right now. Wow.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Funny Shit , Television Reviews