The road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs

Last night Gabriel and I were feeling a mite peckish after a long hard day of not-cleaning the house. Natuarally the only possible outcome was to cook a feast.

We had duck breast browned in butter, and finished under the broiler. Green beans with bacon and carmelized shallots, and mushroom couscous.

We paired it with a lovely 2008 Miller highlife.

My house still smells delicious.

(this has been sitting in my drafts bin for ever. i am just going to post it, unfinished, unedited.  why? because i am procrastinating.)

“Let’s go for an adventure,” I said.
“Where?”, he asked.

Just before x-mas 07 Gabriel, and I made our way up highway 116, to Forestville. In Forestville there exists an old timey fast food joint, a fractious banjo teacher who’s home’s (read: shack’s) every surface is covered in low brow science fiction novels, and an absolutely sincere occult store.

We were there to visit the lattermost of the three. I’m not usually the occult store type; I’m a mostly-atheist, who’s more prone to flights of cynicism rather than fancy, but I was shopping for a gift for my big brother, Max, who kind of is the occult store type. After perusing the blessed candles, imported amulets, spell kits, and mapped-out divination tea cups, I finally settled on a deck of Rider-Waite Tarot cards*.

Upon returning to Gabriel’s apartment, we were faced with the question: what do we do now. Naturally, the answer was break open Max’s holiday gift, and see what the future had in store for us. We each had similar readings: change or face ruin.

That’s a pretty crappy reading, I thought, so when I got home I did it again and again, only to get the same reading (before you suggest learning how to shuffle, be advised that a) the cards were shuffled, and b) the shuffled cards were being spread face-down, to be chosen from at random*) every time.

Weird, right? Now let me stress again how much I am not the tarot type. I am really not.

So bear in mind, that was all back around X-mas, and it’s been a while since I did a reading, but i did one recently, and guess what it said.

Bingo.

So, if you’re not particularly familiar with Tarot, you might be asking: Is that all it can say? The answer is no. I shuffled the cards in my brother’s name (sorry for stealing your xmas present), and it came out totally different.

Weird huh?

5/19/08

So I now teeter precariously at the brink of change. Three roomies moving out, and three new ones moving in (I would be willing to define the old roommates as “ruinous”). I am going to plant a garden (highly symbolic, yes?). I am looking at a slightly different career/education path. I am (fingers crossed) getting a new job. And, lastly, I am going on pants strike. (pictures of pants strike coming soon)

So, out with the old, in with the new, always do what your tarot cards tell you, and down with pants. literally.

• Polaroid cameras (RIP)
• Banjos, and other old timey instruments
• Words like “crockery” and “aristotelian”
• Esperanto, esp. history of and Will Shatner’s involvement with
• Picky eating habits
• World fairs
• Rivers, esp. going to the
• Picnics
• Dogs, horses, chickens, et al.  No geese.  No sheep
• Moonshine esp. bathtub gin.  see “jake leg”
• Sunday drives
• Sunday hats
• Sunday best
• Yellow

If you have any information regarding any of the above, please contact me.