Make crappy art with your crappy photos!
I hate receiving a Netflix disk, looking forward to a good movie with the cats and popcorn sprinkled with olive oil and parmesan and cayenne, only to open the red envelope and find a cracked disk. What, I have to read that totally awesome 600-page novel again? (Still finishing House of Leaves… I got caught up with magazines and the election.)
In the Sriracha hot sauce group on Facebook, some poor student recommended making soup with Ramen, Sriracha, and peanut butter. I won’t say it was delicious, but interesting and a fine junky belly-filler on a cold day. One of the anecdotes on the Frontline show about Lee Atwater was that he was crazy for hot sauce. He thought Tabasco was for wussies and I didn’t think I could agree about anything with Atwater except good blues. So what’s his favorite hot sauce? They don’t say but at least Tabasco got bitch-slapped. Who makes hot sauce concentrate?
Later, I rode my bike up to 138th and Edgecombe without gloves. It’s hard to ride a bike when your hands are in so much pain and on the verge of frostbite, you just want to chop them off.
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