Posts tagged ‘onions’

Cooking pro-tips I

Real men don’t cry cutting onions, they make onions cry.

Life IS that hard, cooking

Making Spaghetti. Starting with the sauce, onions are chopped to tiny bits, and put into the pot with the hot oil.
Letting them roast for juuust a tiny bit, then adding the minced meat.
Smell is already mouthwatering!

Wife yells from the adjacent living room: “Don’t forget the garlic!”
We have garlic. Lots of it. Peeled and put in the deep freezer. I turn off the stove, put the pot aside and get two cloves out, look for the garlic press – the one you put the cloves in, press minced garlic out by sheer muscle strength – and start pressing them into the minced meat and onions mass.
CLANG! The mesh on the other side of the press explodes into four pieces of shrapnel, three of which disappeared in the mass of the pot, the last hanging on to dear life on the press….

No spaghetti sauce, no spaghetti.
Take out it is then.

Have a nice weekend.
A.

Amok egoism…

… I may not be Mr. Considerate myself, but I have gotten a reasonable amount of social competence from my mother, enough as to not being a tital prick.

Why am I writing this? At the time I write these lines, I was standing in a train, happily typing away on part four of act 3 of “Whose World” when the egoism around me, runs me over! First there is this little shit that stood just right in front of the door of the train, people were not able to exit it faster because of him. Just so Shitty McShitpants could get a seat.
Good work asshole!

Then the douchebag “I am important, Motherfucker” shows up and hangs his bag (a travelbag) on the handrail of the cab, so the starway is half blocked. I wished someone had tripped over it and sued that sunshaded prick for damages.
Asshat.

Idiot leaves with his bag, cue intro Twatty O’Twat, also known as the Onioncunt!
It should be prohibited under highprized penalties to enter any public transport with smelly food! Like in this case Onion Pizza. Happily munching away ger pseudo Italian cuisine she positioned her cart like bag – guess where – right, IN FRONT OF THE FUCKING STAIRS!! Later it fell over blocking all of it!

Which reminds me: no cart bags! You aren’t going on a trip? You aren’t shopping? Forget the wheeled bag!
Get a backpack, pack light or heavy, go.
Get a bag, pack light, go.
Get a cart, you better be shopping!

You know how irked I gotta be to stop writing?
Very.

Now if the selfcentered egomaniacs continue to show up in the bus, I’m going to turn violent… (how can people wonder why some people actually go on killingsprees?)

A.

Spring…

…has got me in it’s clutches, wringing the sweet life out of me, choking me with powerfull hands around my throat and numbing smells in my nose…yes, my allergies have gotten the best of me.

As every year.

On the other hand, two weeks ago I was running around in boots, T-Shirt, shirt and leather jacket, now I sweat if I step outside. I like climate change (say global warming just one time and I’ll suffocate you in snow! Not after this terribly long winter!) sometimes. Everyday the chestnut trees in our street have become greener and greener over the last week. At first only green hints appeared, to be quickly extended to green leaves the next day. IF we still leave near there next year I will take pictures.

The smell of spring / summer is in the air. Although it strangles me, I love it, after smelling only the icy cold and the rotting autumn leaves.

Still, my allergies have the disturbing sideeffect that reality becomes a strange thing. I feel spaced out as if on heavy drugs – or at least some good weed. Time constantly changes its pace, what was yesterday seems like five weeks ago, what has been three days earlier seems like a few minutes ago.
At least gravity keeps the same.
Unlike that one time…I digress.

If my style of posting blurbs/comedy changes in the next few days/weeks (and very recently) – its only temporary, and it should return back to normal once main allergy season has blown over. 🙂

Until such time, keep up with my changed style, it still is me talking, although through a haze of pollen…

A.