Goin' Californie Way TVP Tacos

Now, we here at the Bloggy Blog have never been to California, but we have watched a lot of movies about it. We've figured out that the average day of the average Californian goes something like this:

1. Spot Sandra Bullock reading Naked Lunch at Starbucks
2. Do a drive-by on that punk-ass bitch who owes you money
3. Get stuck in traffic while trying to go to In and Out for some animal style
4. Do yoga while eating a mango and tofu salad while sipping a valerian root/yerba mate blend

If you're flexible enough to assume the lotus position, get ready to fulfill step 4 to being a true imaginary Californian by trying this "offbeat" and "quirky" creation of ours. All quantities are pretty approximate, and feed ~4.

1 cup TVP granules
1 tbsp. olive oil
~1/3 cup diced onion
~1/3 cup diced bell pepper
chopped cilantro, to taste
corn tortillas, many
alfalfa sprouts, to taste

Broth:
1 cup water
1 tsp. vegan chicken bullion
1/2 tsp. MSG (get over it, BPA is the new boogeyman)
1 tsp. turmeric
1 tsp. tabasco sauce
1 tsp. lime juice

Combine all broth ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add TVP granules and simmer until all broth is absorbed. Turn off heat, and stir in olive oil, onions, bell peppers, and cilantro. Put two corn tortillas per taco in toaster oven and warm. Spoon filling onto toasted tortillas and top with sprouts. Serve immediately.

Do The Wrong Thing

Levon Jones, a student from Georgia visiting New Orleans for a flag football tournament, was killed in December 2004 by a group of 'bouncers' outside the unpopular Bourbon street bar Razzoo's. He died of asphyxiation as he was being held face down in the street by 4 of said 'bouncers' for 10-15 minutes while 'police' 'arrived' to arrest him.

The fight started for not adhering to the 'dress code' for when a member of the flag football group was barred from entering Razzoo's. As it is well known that the only mandate of such 'dress codes' is skin color, the flag football clique took issue with Razzoo's casually dressed patronage and continued barring of members that were dressed according to the unposted 'code'. Quoting from the Times Pic:

The club's doormen told Jones and another friend that their "black a - -" wasn't welcome at Razzoo, [a witness] said in the second day of testimony. Jones and a friend, Anthony Williams, "stepped up," chests out after each was told to "get his black a - -" away, Austin said. But neither man struck a bouncer until Jones was shoved backward, she said.

"He was being pursued, pushed by the bouncers," said Tom Schueller, who owns a real estate company in Tampa, Fla. "He got slammed down face-first on the sidewalk. One of the bouncers put his knee in the middle of his back. One was choking him. He was restrained by six to seven hundred pounds of bouncers . . . he was gasping."

"The bouncers killed that man," Orleans Parish Coroner Frank Minyard told TV news outlets. His office ruled the death a homicide caused by asphyxia that arose after "excessive physical force."

The first of the bouncers being tried for simply manslaughter, Arthur Irons, was just acquitted. The jury only had to find that Irons had committed a misdemeanor, such as false imprisonment or battery. A misdemeanor that leads to death is manslaughter. However, after an hour of deliberation/free lunch, the jury found nothing wrong with the 'bouncers' behavior. How was this verdict really reached? By claiming jury pool contamination and getting the trial moved to Lake Charles, land of 13/14 white juries. Because, as we all know, there just aren't enough bigots in New Orleans.

In Case You Were Wondering

Pretension Alert Level Red

...or for that matter, combining too many things from
Stuff White People Like

Incompetent Smoke and Mirrors Game at Louis Armstrong Intl Airport

We here at the Bloggy Blog have had a Canadian drivers license for quite some time. Acquiring it punched our cred card long ago, and we haven't replaced it since Bloggy Blog does not own an automobile. And yes, we are aware that the last two sentences are a Pretension Alert Level Code Orange, the "I actually do not own a television" alert level.

The security checkpoint at MSY Concourse D has in the past usually been staffed by a nice woman that checked IDs and boarding passes. This time however, this position was filled by two men fresh out of the TSA academy, which we imagine is located in an empty wing of an old shopping mall. Thats right, TSA outbid that miniature golf place that used to be in there, and yes Mr. Displaced Sears Mall Cop, TSA is accepting applications. How soon can you start?

While a simple Google search clearly shows that a Canadian drivers license is a completely appropriate form of identification for domestic US flights, the TSA ID checkers were perplexed, much like a worker ant encountering a twig placed across its scent trail. "You don't have a Passport?" one said, the present mindfuck staining an otherwise quiet shift. "Please wait over here while I get my supervisor". We anticipated this supervisor to be a grizzled veteran of the hairiest of all TSA campaigns: That Time no liquids could be brought on, That Time Cheney was toggling the Terror Alert Level like a child with a KitchenAid mixer, and even That Time you could bring liquids on if they were in little bottles placed in a sliding-zippered Ziplock bag. Too many good young agents were lost in that clusterfuck, but those that survived were all the stronger.

Surely this supervisor would be aware of the very basic regulations that he has been trained to administrate. After all, he upheld them well enough to be promoted to the position where you get to tell the Rooks when to carry the empty X-ray bins back to the front! However, in an interrogative gambit that would make Det. Frank Pembleton proud, he casually threw the question back at us like Socrates: "Don't you [Canadian scum] need a passport to fly?" To which our humble Plato replied, "No, this is a domestic flight".

The instructor's thesis adequately challenged, a consultation of third level of TSA management was required. Rest assured, this 3rd level guy represented the highest in bad-assery that any TSA agent could aspire to. Back at the academy, yeah, the mall off the service road between exits 32 and 33, dude ate nothin but Dippin' Dots for lunch. Every day. Now he stands at an unused check-in counter with clear sight lines of the whole operation: The checked baggage screening machine, the ID checking line, and the passenger security checkpoint where all the magic happens. We think we saw him putting on shades David Caruso style after cluing in the first 'supervisor' that Canadian driver licenses were sufficient. The first supervisor continued this 3rd grade slumber party telephone game back to the original ID checker, who informed us that we could indeed continue on the flight.

Oh well. At least they didn't make us take out the stainless steel sounding rod we always fly with.

Our Mother(s) sent us a long sleeved shirt that was too big for her that she got for free. With 100% cotton and contrast stitching on the collar and shoulders, it certainly would be dubbed Fashion Forward by the likes of Tim Gunn. Or at least the Snorg Tees Girl. It is a 'tour' shirt for the band called The OffKilters, and features corporate sponsors on the sleeves like it was a 10k or something. Because after all, nothing says non-conformity like Accenture or ExxonMobil. For added effect, the 'Kilt' portion of the logo has plaid lettering. However, with the subtitle "A Night of Golden Oldies", we can only guess where bag-pipes fit into "Layla" or "Go Your Own Way". With so many contraditions (well, two), the only place for a shirt like this is a stroll down Bedford Ave to see who is up to the challenge of penetrating this irony. (Hopefully not with the jagged edge of a PBR bottle)

In the "Hit The Nail On It's Head" catagory, a consise deconstruction of the "Skinny Bitch" books by Salon's Julie Klausner...

The money line:

The relentless bullying peppered throughout the authors' advice accounts for much of the book's humor, including quips like "you need to exercise, you lazy shit," "coffee is for pussies" and "don't be a fat pig anymore." It was a formerly anorexic friend of mine who nailed it when she read excerpts from the book. "When you have an eating disorder," she told me, "that's the voice you hear in your head all the time."

With a toast of the martini glasses and a casual wink Nancy Pelosi added, "Spend it fast and remember who loves you, baby."

What's up America? You're fighting a losing battle in two foreign wars, neglecting your aging infrastructure and coastal erosion problems, and facing an overdue recession. For the long term, you are falling behind the rest of the world in education and technology standards. But before you start feeling unsatisfied with elected officials they would like to give you: free money! Free Money! FREE MONEY!!

Yep, now that the Democrats 'control' both houses of Congress, they can finally get around to pushing through all those bills that Herr Bush likes so much. As everyone knows, the best thing to do when facing a recession, (economically speaking) is to take on more debt, give out checks to everyone, and encourage them to spend it quickly on consumer items made in other countries. Because if the financial hole is dug deep enough, we will eventually break through to the other side of the world, where all of the money is going.