Google blogger is a bad platform, and the app is one of the worst I've ever seen. After writing a full post, it wiped my entry. It fails as a blogging app. Actually, the only reason I'm still on blogger at all is the archives. If you're looking for a blogging website to start with, Blogger is the MySpace of blogging, but with less cachet. I could see a kind of retro, grungy interest in MySpace, a grungy, mostly abandoned alley now papered over with ads. Blogger is the blogging website of choice for people whose cats are the most interesting part of their lives, and who were only recently dragged into Facebook. Blogger is the blogging website for people who don't care how things look.
Today I'm manifesting a lot of my frustration. Did you notice in the preamble rant about Blogger?
I realized I was feeling much moodier and angrier than usual after I hit the eighth pedestrian. Actually, I grumpy getting up and I really noticed after I caught myself cussing out the woman in the car in front of me (in the sealed privacy of my vehicle) as well as the mystical enchantment which has befallen the residents of Mesa- they're all asleep.
It also didn't help that after driving to Mesa to check on Sally's house, I found the house sitter already there, and not really in a friendly mood. OK. It's not your house and so you don't want to answer the doorbell. I can understand that. But to not even come to the door after I raised the garage with the code? really? I gave up at that point. Who knows, people in this country are dumb enough to keep firearms, and therefore dumb enough to kill friends checking on houses.
Bookman's and a donut shop were temporary palliatives. Bookman's makes me think I should be buying kindle books, and that I shouldn't buy heavy books for the trip to Germany which keeps receding into the distance, and as for the donut shop, my weight is steadily increasing.
So I gave up and went back to the house and looked up a hideously complicated and laborious Rick Bayless Mexican recipe to throw myself into. Made a separate trip to buy ingredients at Ranch Market, and started cooking around 1. I didn't really finish cooking until about 6:30pm, and I made ONE dish. Chiles pinchas Rellenos with a meat stuffing and tomato soup sauce. It's a real motherfucker to make. The good news is that poblano peppers are the most "exotic" shopping list item in the ingredients. I had to quick fry and peel the peppers. Have you ever tried to peel a pepper? It's about as fun as it sounds. When I got to the part of the recipe which describes making the batter for dipping the chile relleno after flouring, I read "separate the eggs into whites, setting aside the yolks. Beat the whites with an electric mixer with a pinch of salt and flour until stiff peaks form. Gradually mix in yolks..." No, I don't think so, pendejo.
Another pendejo, British Prime Minister Sir Neville Chamberlain. If you can't pin the blame on him for failing to prevent WWII, you have to admit, that whenever a ball could have been dropped, he dropped it.
Today I'm manifesting a lot of my frustration. Did you notice in the preamble rant about Blogger?
I realized I was feeling much moodier and angrier than usual after I hit the eighth pedestrian. Actually, I grumpy getting up and I really noticed after I caught myself cussing out the woman in the car in front of me (in the sealed privacy of my vehicle) as well as the mystical enchantment which has befallen the residents of Mesa- they're all asleep.
It also didn't help that after driving to Mesa to check on Sally's house, I found the house sitter already there, and not really in a friendly mood. OK. It's not your house and so you don't want to answer the doorbell. I can understand that. But to not even come to the door after I raised the garage with the code? really? I gave up at that point. Who knows, people in this country are dumb enough to keep firearms, and therefore dumb enough to kill friends checking on houses.
Bookman's and a donut shop were temporary palliatives. Bookman's makes me think I should be buying kindle books, and that I shouldn't buy heavy books for the trip to Germany which keeps receding into the distance, and as for the donut shop, my weight is steadily increasing.
So I gave up and went back to the house and looked up a hideously complicated and laborious Rick Bayless Mexican recipe to throw myself into. Made a separate trip to buy ingredients at Ranch Market, and started cooking around 1. I didn't really finish cooking until about 6:30pm, and I made ONE dish. Chiles pinchas Rellenos with a meat stuffing and tomato soup sauce. It's a real motherfucker to make. The good news is that poblano peppers are the most "exotic" shopping list item in the ingredients. I had to quick fry and peel the peppers. Have you ever tried to peel a pepper? It's about as fun as it sounds. When I got to the part of the recipe which describes making the batter for dipping the chile relleno after flouring, I read "separate the eggs into whites, setting aside the yolks. Beat the whites with an electric mixer with a pinch of salt and flour until stiff peaks form. Gradually mix in yolks..." No, I don't think so, pendejo.
Another pendejo, British Prime Minister Sir Neville Chamberlain. If you can't pin the blame on him for failing to prevent WWII, you have to admit, that whenever a ball could have been dropped, he dropped it.
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