13 and a half.Jan.2004

an hour of shaping

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5.4.3.2.1.

I truly feel in my element when I'm tossing random spices and meats together, the kitchen windows steamed, Michael Hutchence throbbing mellifluously from my tiny JVC speakers, and I'm chopping broccoli to the beat of lyrics, "That's. The. Way. It. Was. Meant. To. Be."

Of course, now that I've just typed "chopping broccoli", I immediately think of Dana Carvey and how much I love my piano.

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I watched Dennis Miller's Raw Feed Saturday night, and it served as a pulsating reminder exactly how much I cannot cease adoring this incendiary power-house. You're such a wonderfully cocky little bastard, Dennis, truly and completely.

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That's really not the point of this entry, however.

The point is that I feel in my element when I'm stirring a chicken broth I've created on a whim and I have complete dominance over an electric stove. I also feel in my element when I blast Project Pitchfork's "Carnival" and slide my frame in dance-moves above the chicken dressing and I'm shimmering violently to thoughts of you. I'm fairly certain I don't think of you as chicken. I also guess it's strange poultry reminds me of a vegetarian.

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"If Clinton had only attacked terrorism as much as he attacks George Bush we wouldn't be in this problem."
-Dennis Miller.

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time & machine