Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Monthly Archives: January 2010
You know you play too much Oblivion when . . .
. . . you find yourself coveting Benirus Manor.
It’s in the coastal city of Anvil, and it’s a steal at a mere 5000 gold pieces. The place is a mess (hey, it’s sounding like my OTHER coastal home!), but once you rid it of its curse (rats in our Oregon house, ghosts in this one), it repairs itself (sadly not applicable to our Oregon house).
Why do you need a house in Oblivion? To store all of your crap, naturally. You know, the loot you find that you don’t want to use right now but don’t want to sell. Books that might turn out to be quest items. Various herbs and vegetables used in alchemy.
I was playing Dragon Age, and I think I’m about 5/6 finished with it, enjoying it very much — tremendous writing; the banter between characters is so good, I’m tempted to post a video — oh, hey, what the hell:
The woman, Wynne, is about 90 years old, but she looks pretty decent for all of that. She’s sort of a priestess mage and rather preachy. Zevran is the elf with the Ricardo Montalban accent. He’s an unrepentant assassin and he’ll screw anything with a heartbeat.
Anyway, I was playing Dragon Age, but got a bit of Dragon Age fatigue and decided to reinstall Oblivion. It’s a 2006 role-playing game with this rather novel plot about saving the world from the gates of hell blah blah blah. Terrible voice acting, mediocre writing, and yet there’s something about the world that draws me in and won’t let me go. It’s a huge world and you can explore just about every square inch — unlike Dragon Age, where your ability to explore is nonexistent.
Sometimes, a guy feels like exploring.
I want that house. And I can almost afford it. Right now, all I can afford is this shack:
. . . which is also on the waterfront, and looks a good deal like our house in Oregon when we first bought it.
I bet the shack has rats, too.
D.
Wordless
I have nothing to say. I suppose I could write one of those “what I did today” entries, but then you’d find out how much time I waste playing Dragon Age or Oblivion.
Oh, well. We’ll make it a Hoodia update. Yes, it works as an appetite suppressant, but I’m still not losing any weight. Not gaining, either, so that’s something.
D.
And now for something completely different
Doro wat . . .
This looks nothing like MY doro wat. But you get the idea.
I had a yen for a nice doro wat tonight. Ethiopian curries are like none other; I think it’s the combo of heat, spice, and sweetness from the berbere**. But man, is this a bit of work. Would have been easy on the weekend, but more than I really wanted to do on a week night. Anyway, here’s what you do:
Sprinkle salt on your chicken and throw it into a gallon bag. Add about a half cup of lemon juice, and let it sit for a while, turning the bag over and over every 10-15 minutes. You’ll be doing this while you work on the rest of the dinner. What kind of chicken? I used thigh/leg combos, three of them, but in the future I think I will use boneless meat cut into large chunks. Only trouble with that idea is, it’ll cook much faster, so I’m not sure whether the chicken will cook too quickly, well before the stew has a chance to develop its flavor.
Second, the berbere*:
One good way to donate
I’m sure there are many others, but MSF was my choice.
From their homepage:
MSF has already treated more than 1,000 people on the ground in Haiti following Tuesday’s earthquake, but the needs are huge. An inflatable hospital with operating theatres is expected to arrive in the next 24 hours.
D.
The latest
My scale seems pegged between 172.5 and 173.5. Yes, I know you’re not supposed to weigh yourself daily, but I can’t help it. I’m obsessed. And I’m half tempted to take a diuretic just for the rush of seeing a few pounds drop off in a matter of hours.
(And that’s why doctors shouldn’t treat themselves.)
I’m dieting, kind of, and still exercising, but it’s not happening fast enough for me. A pound a week, that’s all I ask for! Is that so much? I want to get back to 163. I look and feel good at 163. When I made it there before (scarcely two or three months ago), I decided wrongly that exercise alone would keep me there, so I stopped watching my diet.
Anyway, here is what my doc recommended:
Ram one of these babies down your esophagus, and you won't eat for days.
It’s hoodia, or Hoodia gordonii, a cactiform succulent from the Namib desert. Extracts supposedly act as diet suppressants, and since I’m not the suggestible type I’m going to assume that my current bloated feeling is proof of concept. I think I need to take the medication earlier, though, since the bloat struck well after dinner. On the other hand, I avoided dessert, which I usually cannot do. So perhaps we are getting somewhere.
Does it work? I mean, is there good solid evidence for this stuff? Wikipedia says only that it is “being investigated as an appetite suppressant.” According to some website called NaturalNews.com, a study from Leicester, England, showed that patients on Hoodia consumed 1000 calories per day less than controls. That’s remarkable. That translates to a two pound per week weight loss . . . if true. Obviously, I would have to continue exercising to keep up my muscle mass, watch my diet to avoid malnutrition, etc. But I’m not sure I trust a place called NaturalNews.com. It ain’t Nature, you know?
Then I had the brilliant idea: what does my friend the Fanatic Cook have to say about it? Since she’s my go-to gal for all things dietary. But, unfortunately, Bix doesn’t have much to say, other than she likes her appetite and doesn’t want to see it suppressed.
So I’m left thinking, “Well, if I can at least prove it won’t kill me, what’s the harm in trying?” Over at drugs.com, I learned
Hoodia has not been evaluated by the FDA for safety, effectiveness, or purity. All potential risks and/ or advantages of Hoodia may not be known. Additionally, there are no regulated manufacturing standards in place for these compounds. There have been instances where herbal/ health supplements have been sold which were contaminated with toxic metals or other drugs. Herbal/ health supplements should be purchased from a reliable source to minimize the risk of contamination.
So I should be good, provided my Hoodia doesn’t contain mercury, lead, cadmium, or Kryptonite. (Honestly, though, this is one of the few negative reports on Hoodia, but the strongest argument they make is that your Hoodia might be bogus.)
Oh, and I’m drinking green tea now, too.
D.
Dates
Oy. I keep forgetting that WordPress, like Blogger, doesn’t save stuff in this little entry box. If I’m writing stuff and I navigate away, it’s lost forever. And that’s what happens to me. I’m writing about the date, let’s say today (since 1/11/10 is so delightfully binary, though not as wonderful as 1/11/11), and then I say, “Ooh, something sparkly!” and I click on a link and poof. But that’s my problem, not yours.
This tickles me. This is what you get if you google “tentacle sex papacy” with safe search off.
So where were you on 9/9/99? Or 8/8/88? Or 7/7/77? Or 6/6/66?
Of these, I remember clearly only 7/7/77. Summer school: I was in George May’s art class at Roosevelt High School in East Los Angeles, where my dad taught math. Like my father, I can’t handle long periods of inactivity, so summer school was a must. Mr. May was this animated fellow who reminded me of Red Buttons. And for those of you too young to remember Red Buttons, well,
Fine teacher, George May. Taught me how to draw.
6/6/66, I would have been four, looking forward to kindergarten, not realizing that kindergarten was ruled by a witch who would forever be locking me up in “the kitchen” all because I wouldn’t stop harassing this one girl (with whom I’m friended on Facebook).
Where were you?
D.
Unclear on the Craigslist concept, Part Deux
To reiterate: the Casual Encounters section is for women looking to hook up with men. Or men with women. Or men with men. Or women with women. Or men with transgenders. Or transgenders with men. Or . . . you get the idea. It’s about hooking up. And it would be a lot more interesting place if the pro$titute$* had their own area, but that’s another story.
It’s not really about women looking for lost loves, so I was a bit surprised by
Jeremy where r u? – w4m – 29 (Bakersfield)
So sad! Always tugs at my heartstrings when people can’t find their special someones.
Looking for some dude named Jeremy, in the army, bald, tall, white guy. U came to Bako for the holidays. U gave me the clap so where r u bastard? Pay for my medication!
Um. Oh.
D.
*A dollar sign, not an S, get it? Those prostitutes sure are clever.
Unclear on the Craigslist concept
The casual encounters section is what it sounds like. It’s for people looking to hook up and share bodily fluids, some of whom don’t even expect money in exchange. Kind of a fun place to lurk if you enjoy snooping on the more tawdry side of the singles scene.
And then there’s
Charming girl seeks prince… – w4m – 28
which ordinarily would lead in to a plea for someone who can go all night. Instead,
I am a Orthodox Jewish female seeking the same in a older Jewish male. I am very conservative and traditional in keeping a jewish home. I do keep Kosher always and seeking marriage and to start a family.
This poor woman. What’s she going to do when guys by the dozen start emailing her pictures of their unkosher meat?
D.
Mother of all Emo
Natasha was the ultimate Goth chick. If it weren’t for her Herman Munster head, she’d have put some filthy notions into my prepubescent brain.
D.