I Made A Pizza

The RIAA doesn’t get it and they’re a bunch of stupid fartballs.

Muxtape is down because the RIAA doesn’t get it. RIAA wiggled its eyebrows and now I don’t have my Muxtape. Motherscratchers.

Here’s the thing. Stuff like Muxtape helps sell albums. Or should. If the industry would approach this shit right.

Because. Overall. A population of consumers that is more and more and more educated in music appreciation, a group that feels ownership of its music and of the media itself, that’s a group that’s more willing to buy CDs and shit.

If you insist on selling music, you won’t sell music. You’re not selling music. You’re selling love. And we all know how that works. You give some to get some.

Anyway, I made this pizza. The crust is Boboli whole wheat, and the sauce is Pizza Quick. Then there’s a whole mess of onions cooked soft because I had minced onions left and some chopped up broccoli because I had leftover brocolli {the new-fangled steam-in-a-bag-kind, which worked well because it had lots of water in it and therefore did not burn up in the oven( and some yummy sweet Italian sausage and of course mozarell’. It was really gud. And I foiled a few slices up for lunch tomorrow. Plus I have sausage left for a frustration stew I’m planning.

Meatloaf and Macaroni and Cheese

I made a meatloaf Sunday, and it was all right. I wanted to jot down some notes for myself for later.

Meatloaf has been one of my eternal struggles. I want to know how to make a delicious one. I have for years. In the past, my meatloaves have always been fairly disasterous, ones you could eat with a spoon. With the last few (and the correct recipes, supplied as a stocking stuffer from my Moms last Christmas), I have at least gotten the structural challenges down. Now I’m not sure the flavor is what it needs to be.

Here’s the recipe I used.

1 1/4 pounds lean ground beef
1/2 pound low-fat bulk sausage*
Two smallish eggs
1 small onion, chopped
One Grated Carrot
2 tablespoons ketchup
3/4 cup oatmeal
Salt and pepper to taste.
(I think I also threw in some watered steak sauce from a near-empty bottle.)
Combine all this gunk. Make into a large ball, plop it on a tray or some junk, bake for 80 to 90 minutes at 325, then check with a meat thermometer and continue baking when it says it’s not done yet.

The only thing I might change is the pork used. I did not use a sausage but a normal ground pork. A sausage would have added more yowsa, which is something I tend to like a lot of. I also wonder if some of my magickal poy roast seasoning would have added something something something.

I also made a macarooni and cheese, one sunday and one today. Today’s was far better. Here’s what I did this evening.

One Cup of Canned Milk
1/2 cup of water
1 cup of diced colby cheese with a few slices of American cheese
1 1/2 T butter
1 1/2 soft bread slices, cubed
2 T diced onion
2 T diced celery
1/2 t. salt
dash pepper (fresh-ground)
2 beaten eggs
2 C. of macarooni, (whole wheat!) cooked (this means I measured 2 Cups DRY and then cooked it.)

In a saucepan, combine milk, water, cheese, butter, bring to a boil stirring constanly. When cheese melts, remove from heat. Stir in bread cubes, onion, salt, pepper. Fold in eggs and macarooni and stir the whole mess until it’s goosh. Spoon into a greased baking dish, bake at 350 for 30 minutes, then forget it’s in the oven for 15 minutes after that, then yank it out.

I did change the proportions up a little from Sunday, but I think the difference was the dish. I had used a comparatively shallow baking dish Sunday. Today I used a deeper one. That seemed to make for more yummy. I might next time consider baking the thing covered, though some might consider that blasphemy. But I am trying to work with whole wheat elbows here, which will crunch up more in baking. I think a cover might be a good thing. I would also consider a more interesting cheese, like a sharp cheddar, than colby, for, yes, yowsa. Otherwise, this basic recipe is very good.

Pot Roast

I have recently decided that it’s time I grew up and learned how to cook a decent pot roast. So I got me a nice roasting meat, 1.5 pounds of shoulder something something. And today was d-day. I used this recipe I found on the Internet (below). I started it in the Crock at about 2 p.m. I threw in the carrots, onions, celery, and potatoes at about 7 p.m. I sat down to eat at 10 p.m.

My gods. I can make pot roast. Not that that’s any big thing. But it was perfect. Cuttable with the side of your fork. Damn. Fucking damn. And it wasn’t all just water in there. I threw in some broth after a few hours just for good measure. And some garlic.

Food coma.

Ingredients
1 beef roast, any kind
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package dried brown gravy mix
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package dried Italian salad dressing mix
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package dried ranch dressing mix
1/2 cup water
Directions
1Place beef roast in crock pot.
2Mix the dried mixes together in a bowl and sprinkle over the roast.
3Pour the water around the roast.
4Cook on low for 7-9 hours.

Thou Shalt Bark Up The Wrong Tree

I am Googling this morning, nearly this afternoon now, Googling “mower belching white smoke.” Because my mower was belching white smoke. Probably because I over-oiled it.

However, the problem presented itself at exactly the right time. As I was stuffing my lawn mower full of oil, apparently ill-advisedly, I noticed some well-dressed people walking through my neighborhood knocking on doors. I girded. I knew what was coming.

Just as they began to descend on my house, I was in the side yard starting my mowing, and it was just then that the mower came across the indigestion-causing excess of oil and belched plumes of white smoke, which wafted directly into the half-dozen or so people in their Sunday best. One of them coughed.

“Hi, sir,” said an older, short white guy dressed in a snazzy monkey suit. “Having some trouble there? Heh-heh.”

“Nope! No problem.” I shot back. “In fact, I’m kind of excited. My lawnmower just elected a new Pope!”

He laughed politely, sort of. Then: “Is there anyone else at the house?”

“No, just me.” What, I look like the garden boy? Or perhaps he was lookin’ for the Lady of the House?

“My name’s Assclown*, and I’m with Jehovah’s Witnesses,” he said. “May we have a few moments of your time to share the Bible with you today?”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? We just want to share the—”

“Sir, do you see the sign in my yard?” I asked. “The green one? The one that says ‘Impeach Him?'”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you simply assume I mean that sign to refer to the President of the Untied States?”

He sighed and knew he was going to get nowhere because I was about to suggest that I would like to impeach Jesus H. Christ for high crimes and misdemeanors. (Which is not actually accurate. I actually think that Jesus had a lot of wonderful things to say but that American Christianity® eschews the turn-the-other-cheek crap and prefers the kung-fu-grip-Jesus honed and harnessed by the BNAL (Bush Nation At-Large).) He asked if he could leave some materials for me to review later, and I offered him another terse “no thanks” and a “have a nice day” and went back to killing the environment with my lawn mower.

I do not for the life of me understand or value the mindset that perceives that all that guy mowing his ass off on the sabbath needs is a little Bible reading from Witness Assclown and that’ll turn him around and put him on the Jesus train for good. I am a Bright, born and reared and confirmed in adulthood. I have reached this location not by negligence or sloth, but by considered, sometimes tortured study, thought, and work. I’ve read much of the Bible. I’ve been to church, many different flavors of churches, from Uni-Uni to Catholic to Christian Scientist to Jewish temple. Heck. I’ve even cast a circle or two (in fact, I think some of the present-day pagans, the Earth and Moon worshippers, are closer to truth than anyone). It offends me that this assclown thinks that his reading of Job or Leviticus or whatever is going to make me turn my back on the way I’ve come to understand and to believe in the universe in all of my 39 years.

Besides. Of all the practitioners of American Christianity®, these folks might be the mostest fullest of the mostest shit ever. One of its founders predicted the return of Jesus Christ to Earth in 1873. When that didn’t happen, he said, well, 1874, maybe. When that didn’t happen, he declared that an invisible Jesus had actually reascended (or descended, I’m not sure which) to Earth. So, guess what. The Witnesses. They believe in “Sneaky Jesus.”

And, yes, some of the conversation I’ve shared here occurred in my head afterward and not really actually. I wish.

*Name changed to protect the assclown.