Okay, so if you are either a relatively healthy person, a “healthy living blog” hate-reader, or a pinterest user looking at the food boards, you know that oatmeal is a big deal on the internets right now.

Well, cool. I don’t put a million gross things in my oatmeal to make it not taste like oatmeal, and I sure as shit don’t EAT IT COLD OUT OF A MASON JAR because that’s fucking gross. I do like oatmeal though, preferably the paper packet variety, and if I’m feeling fancy, a few cranberries.

I recently procured some Roundy’s fruit and creme variety of oatmeal and took a packet to work. I noticed something odd…

Is my oatmeal going to judge me if I get it wrong?

So, this is pretty strange. Why in the world someone designing food packaging for a generic-food company decided that what that oatmeal packet really needed to stand out in the world of oatmeal packets was some trivia is completely beyond me, but I’ll play along. What DO minnows have in their throat?

AAHHH! NO NO NO!

WHO in their fucking mind thought that having a trivia question about FISH WITH TOOTHY THROATS was appropriate reading material for someone trying to make and eat their breakfast? Oh, you were going to eat that, well instead how about you enjoy some HORRIFYING MENTAL IMAGERY OF FISH WITH TEETH IN THEIR THROATS?

I haven’t eaten the oatmeal yet. And I’m kind of terrified to check the other packets.

Don’t craft like a hipster.

One of my employees recently commented to me that making one’s own clothing seemed like an awfully hipsterish thing to do. Now, I didn’t get too upset with him because he’s clearly stupid, but I thought “well, if he thinks this, there are probably other people who think this too.” As someone who has invested a lot of time, thought, patience, blood, and money into making stuff, including my own clothing, and as someone who fucking hates hipsters, it is in my best interest, and also to the benefit of innocent crafters, artisans, and artists everywhere that I lay out some distinctions between us, and worthless hipsters making stupid shit. I refuse to sit by and let myself, and my compatriots, be painted with such a broad brush. Should you be in question of whether you are a crafter/artisan/artist or a worthless hipster, simply follow the below guidelines to steer clear of being mistaken for a grubby shitshack of a human being. If you find that you are, in fact, a hipster, kindly fixie-bike yourself into the nearest ironically painted set of deer antlers. As a side note, a lot of this has more to do with someone’s “online presence” than real life presence. This is mostly because the idiot youth of today learn more about people virtually than actually, and as such the proliferation of instagramming, blog writing (see that? IRONY), amateur video tutorial making blowhards are giving all of us a bad name. What you do in your own house all by yourself without sharing (or only sharing within your real life social circle) is your own business and you can feel only the feelings you want to about it.

1. Don’t make shit out of nasty old bedsheets or “vintage” sweaters. There is a time and place for reusing almost any material imaginable. There are a number of t-shirt crafts out there, many of which are cute and easy, and can expand your wardrobe at little to no cost. There are in fact many people who solely create out of old items which have outlived their first iteration. And there is fundamentally nothing wrong with this. However. Old bedsheets are gross, and are often ugly. Because of this, hipsters love them. Old sweaters are gross, and are often made of nasty yarn. Old sweaters that are not gross and are made of quality yarn *rarely* make it to the thrift stores because they are passed along, in the family, or to friends or other loved ones. Sometimes idiots cut up nice sweaters to make felted stuff or stupid legwarmers, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Hipsters genuinely truly love nasty disgusting things and hipsters of a crafty inclination will take something terrible like crusty old bedsheets stained with the horrible secretions of the so-called “greatest” generation and make an ugly blouse out of them. They will unravel the sweat-stained, moth-eaten reject sweater found in the discount bin of their favourite “vintage” store and unravel it to make themselves the world’s most hideous cardigan. Don’t be like this.
2. Don’t half ass things just to be able to say “OMG I’m so DOMESTIC/CREATIVE.” Listen, everyone starts somewhere. There are very, very few people who pick something new up, a sewing pattern or a pair of knitting needles or a paintbrush or a lathe (yes, I know you don’t actually pick up lathes) and are immediately good enough at it to show off. That’s okay and expected. The wonderful thing about the information age is that you can find resources to learn how to do almost anything. And if you have a job and some disposable income (or if you’re a hipster, if you can trick your idiot boomer parents into cashing out some of that 401k and dropping it into that gaping black hole you call “self-discovery”) you can get quality materials from almost anywhere, to make almost anything. So why in the world are you content to slap some glitter glue on twigs, glue those to a canvas covered with melted crayon, and call yourself an artist? For real, there was a pinterest pin floating around a few weeks ago to make a watermelon skirt, and the whole deal was a pink skirt with green ribbon sewn around the bottom and black faux leather seed shapes HOT GLUED on to the skirt. Someone painted an upholstered armchair with LATEX PAINT mixed with fabric medium. What the actual fuck? Hipsters like to brag, and like to talk about how smart they are and how good they are at everything, including “crafting” and “being domestic.” Don’t be that asshole that makes one chunky garter stitch scarf and then says that they could “totally knit that” every time you’re out shopping with a buddy. Take some pride in to learning how to do something and developing actual skill.
3. Stop putting chalkboard paint, antlers, and owls on fucking everything. For good measure, let’s also ban Navajo prints (unless you are actually Navajo), huge bows, and dreamcatchers. Seriously:

My above statement holds doubly true for chalkboard paint. I used to like chalkboard paint, until people started putting it on their cheese trays and coffee mugs and EASTER EGGS. And PUMPKINS. AND FUCKING PIANOS.
Here’s a clue hipsters, if everyone is doing it IT’S NOT UNIQUE ANYMORE.

Point/Counterpoint 1

Point

A: “I had this drink at the bar last night, called Sex with an Alligator.”

D: “What?”

A: “Sex with an Alligator.”

D: “Why would you name it that?  You can’t have sex with an alligator!”

A: “Listen, I didn’t name it that.  Don’t blame me.  The bottom is cherry whatever…”

D: “Cherry…whatever?”

A: “McGillicuddy’s or whatever.  Then Midori, then coconut rum.  Not Malibu, it’s kind of creamy like coconut milk.  Then Jag.”

D: “That sounds revolting.”

A: “You know what?  It kind of is.  I need to find a new bar.”

 

Counterpoint

D: “Right now I’m sourcing food-grade lavender, I found a recipe for honey-lavender simple syrup, and a recipe for a lavender-syrup rusty nail.”

A: “Gross.  Isn’t lavender a smell?”

Fucking Hipsters

Can I just say, first, how awesome it is to get a pile of spam comments telling me how much useful information they found in my Conversation with Beefcake Mansteed 2 post and that they’ve bookmarked it for reading later? HAHAHA.

So, yesterday we were just hanging out when my brother in law alerted us to a roaming group of hipsters that had taken up temporary residence in the middle of the street near our house. We could tell they were hipsters because 1. they all looked like douchebags with expensive film equipment, and 2. one of them had a boom mic attached to the end of a broom (SO IRONIC OMG SO CREATIVE). We watched as one of them spent about 10 minutes taking photo after photo of our intersection street sign and another one put some stupid sticker on the back of the stop sign (which I took down because I hate hipsters). They then spent another 20 minutes standing in the middle of the street (as cars had to go around them) congratulating each other on how awesome and creative they were. I almost went into full on “get off my lawn” mode. Seriously, these snowflakes/assholes (hey, every asshole is unique too, there are no two identical assholes in all the world!) are not from around here, stop photographing my intersection so that more hipsters come stand outside my house being smug and blocking traffic.

Maybe I sound like a bitter old spinster, but when did it become ok to be a hipster? Did society somehow decide that the best way to achieve all of the human races’ most noble desires was to act like a spoiled, condescending, entitled twat who is somehow better than any normal person without having any actual talent or adding any value to society? It’s now a positive personality trait to talk about how much better you are than everyone else without any ability to back it up, then get whiny when someone calls you on it?

Shit, I fucking hate hipsters. I can’t wait for goth to make a comeback. Or emo. At least those kids keep to themselves.

Watermelon Booze

Normally, I’m not drunk. However, I thought this was important. Here you go.

Step 1. Get watermelon and lemon lime soda.

shingles & soday

shingles & soda

Step 2. Also get vodka. Yes, you can buy it at costco. It’s roughly the size and shape of a cricket bat.

I don't even know how to play cricket

Step 3. Chop up your watermelon. Don’t forget to take a picture.

cubed!

Step 4. Puree those fuckers with an immersion blender or a food processor or something.

MIX

Step 5. Add 1 cup soda and 2 shots vodka. Garnish with lemon wedge that came packaged with the watermelon.

cheers, bishes!

D: Hey, you have to get up, your alarm went off and today is a workout day.

Beefcake Mansteed: I know, I’m so tired though.

D: I know, I am too, but you gotta do it.

Beefcake Mansteed: I’m really cold.

D: I will for real blow cold air under your blankets if you don’t get up.

Beefcake Mansteed: That’s really mean.

D: Suck it up. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Beefcake Mansteed: Except herpes.

This is a pretty great game, very dynamic, compelling stories for all the characters we’ve made. Everyone in the house is playing Sith, of course, so I’m most familiar with the Sith story and game play. That being said…

1. Why is a great and powerful Sith sorceror taking orders from Empire grunts?
2. This is only applicable to those who bought the Digital Deluxe version, but why is a great and powerful Sith sorceror riding around on the Star Wars equivalent of a Scootypuff Jr.?

As a side note, Beefcake Mansteed had the idea of recreating the ship his Sith character flies in Lego, and was working on plans to do so. However, when converted to Lego scale (people = lego figures) it would have been something like 12 feet long and 5 feet high.

Cookiepuss

Every year, I make a bunch of cookies to get out of giving actual gifts to people for whom it is difficult to shop. It takes me an afternoon or two, and I get five or six recipients deliciously taken care of in one fell swoop. I skipped making two of the cookies I’ve made in the past (Kolacke and Spritz) because I just couldn’t be bothered, and instead opted for some new recipes. They all turned out pretty good!


I’ve made the peanut butter choco-kiss cookies before, because they are extra easy, and neither overly chocolatey nor overly peanut buttery.


Smores cookies were new this year. I really really like smores, enough to make them year round over the gas burner of our stove. Next time I make these, I will probably choose a chocolate chip cookie recipe that’s softer.

Choco-pretzels are so stupid easy, anyone can do them. I highly suggest this recipe for anyone who is baking-challenged. A tasty variation is using Rolos and toasted walnut halves. Don’t use the caramel Hersheys Kisses or you’ll end up with a sticky mess.


Drunken Honey Cookies…oh my. Sweet biscuit-like manna from heaven. MAKE THESE.

I also make iced sugar cookies every year. These cookies are not photogenic, but they are delicious. It’s a secret recipe though, so no sharing!

Conversations with Beefcake Mansteed

D: I have to think of what I’m going to call you on the blog. You know, to maintain my privacy. I can’t use your real name. I was thinking “Beefcake Mansteed.”

Beefcake Mansteed: That’s a terrible name.

D: Really, out of all of the nicknames I’ve give you over the course of our relationship, this one isn’t so bad.

Beefcake Mansteed: Well, I guess you have a point there.

*some time passes*

D: I probably smell like whiskey right now.

Beefcake Mansteed: Yeah, you do.

D: Cougars smell like whiskey. You could pretend I’m a cougar if you wanted to.

Beefcake Mansteed: I don’t want to pretend you’re a cougar.

D: If you’re nice, you can take a field trip to the Cougar Melon Camp!

Beefcake Mansteed: *horrified look*

D: *hysterical laughter*

fini

Make ALL the presents!

So, as usually happens around this time of year, it’s December and I am way, way behind on present-making. This pile of stuff needs to become presents by the 25th:

Now, some of it is presents for me, like building a stockpile of fabric so I can eventually get a Christmas quilt made. This also serves as backup fabric in the event that another present is required and I forgot or didn’t plan.

The rest of this is legit supposed to go to other people in a finished something-or-other. My mother is really the only person I can get away with giving a wrapped ball of yarn and a half-finished project. She’s getting a wireless router for Christmas, so all this stuff needs to be finished.

I did get some really really cute fabric for baby things though. It was hard not to just keep it for myself.

I’ll post pictures in the next few weeks to document my hypothetical progress.