Duck Calls

We don’t need no special kind of medicine
We don’t need no special kind of medicine
We don’t need no special kind of medicine
Duck Calls!

It’s not even a real song and it is stuck in my head. TheMan woke up humming this from his dream and now it’s permanently branded into my subconscious. Damn him! It’s catchy too and no one else save TheMan is going to know what the heck I’m taking about when I start humming Duck Calls. “Da-da-da-da-dup da-dup da dada-da DUCK CALLS!” Maybe I’ll invent a band and act all duh news when people ask what I’m singing. What? You don’t know Duck Calls? Alfredo Fish? What rock have you been living under.

Hey, this looks like a perfect time to do some weekend recapping. It keeps me from thinking of anything substantial to write and it keeps people amused. Or at least it keeps me amused when I reread them. Heh. I’ll go backwards just to confuse y’all and because I started with Duck calls, which was this morning’s pain.

Color me annoyed today. We are having a birthday thing for two of the people here and I volunteered to make a “cake” for the occasion. I found what I thought had to be this ultra cool recipe for err…”Devilish chocolate Roulade” or something like that. It looks like a giant Ho-Ho but it is actually a chocolate sponge cake frosted with marscapone and a chocolate goo and then rolled up. A gourmet Ho-Ho if you will. I thought it looked really interesting and how hard could it really be to make? I mean, there is eggs, chocolate and sugar in the sponge cake and eggs chocolate and brandy in the goo layer and the cheese is cheese.

OK, first, I’ve never made a sponge cake. They kind of rock though after all is said and done and they are really quite easy to make. I haven’t tasted it yet so my initial opinion may be radically overturned later on but as far as making them…snaps! This one had you blending sugar and egg yolks, melting chocolate, mixing the two together and then folding in whipped egg whites and baking. Simple as pie. The only thing that was rather alarming was when the wax paper caught fire in the oven. Hee, the neighbors probably got an eyeful of me hopping around my kitchen opening all the windows at 5:00am while smoke billowed out into the sub arctic temperatures. Whoooo!

So yeah. Sponge cake. The cheese was pretty easy, it’s hard to screw up: Spread the cheese on the sponge cake. I’m fairly confident that I carried out that step with colors flying. The chocolate goo…well, see I learned something this morning. It’s really hard to melt chocolate with booze. In fact, it’s damn near impossible as far as I can figure out. On the other hand, it’s really easy to burn the shit out of chocolate that has booze added to it. At this point I deviated from the recipe because all my bittersweet chocolate burned up, fell over and sank into the swamp and I had to start over with semi-sweet chocolate chips. I melted them first in the microwave (swell, no worries) and then added brandy. Melted chocolate + brandy = hard gloppy mess that you cant work with. I nuked it some more and for those of you following along at home, it’s really easy to burn a chocolate and booze in the microwave. Next time I am going to try heating up the booze and adding it hot. ANYWAY, I got my goo layer, spread it on the cheese layer and tried to roll the cake up.

Let’s just say that the damn thing is more or less rolled and leave it at that. This is not why I am annoyed, my annoyance comes from the fact that I got up at 5 freaking o’clock IN THE MORNING to make a birthday treat because I was designated birthday treat maker and when I got in everyfuckingone else had also brought in “a little something” and now we have an angel food cake, brownies, cup cakes and the Gourmet Ho-Ho of doom for all of 5 people. Had I known that everyone and their brother was going to be bringing in “Oh, just a little something” I wouldn’t have bothered getting up damn assed early, catching the oven on fire, ruining a butt load of chocolate, finishing off a bottle of liquor and making a complete mess of our kitchen…again. Arrrrgh! Why did I even bother?

Yeah. Moving backwards to Sunday which was by far a much cooler day. We headed up north to the Mumses and Mr. Paul’s house for my birthday dinner. I’m taking over February too I guess. Anyway, Mr. Paul made “Pork boo” which was my signature dish. He is all about creating special dishes for people, Mumses has a dish, Sis has Chicken sis and now my dish. In case you are wondering, “Pork boo” is a stuffed pork roast (I didn’t know you could stuff them! Tres keen) with delightful au jous sauce (hee! Department of Redundancy Department). Mmmmm. We had bread too (crispity crunchity home made Franch bread that Bro-in-law devoured half of before dinner and then put it on the side board out of the way so he wouldn’t eat any more and promptly forgot about it until most of the way through dinner. We had a bread course!) and salad greens. Mmmmm. For dessert mumses made an orange pound cake to hold the lemon brandy sauce. Ahhhhh, lemon brandy sauce.

I got a very cool wine…errr…well it’s not a decanter because it has no stopper. Carafe? It has this huge bulbous base that you can pour an entire bottle of wine into and it’s still only half full. It looks cool pouring the wine in too. Sis and her husband (and animals) also gave me a set of four cut crystal glasses. What fun! I got a mustard yellow ($2!) shirt as an added bonus and some birthday money. Mmmm, birthday money. I think I’ll get us the last season of SG-1 we don’t have for my birthday. Ooo! Tonight’s SG-1 night. Hooo!

Traveling back (wait a moment…pork and sauce flashbacks…OK, I’m better now) to Saturday Would land you right in the middle of either Donald’s party in the earlier part of the day or the great Smithee movie screening of 04 in the later part of the day, or the Q house frantically cleaning if you happened between the two events.

It was great seeing Donald and meeting his friends but I gotta say that Damons sucks ass. We had 20ish people, 3 servers and the service was on a geologic time scale. Poor Badmovie spent more time with a glass of melting ice cubes than he did with any sort of cola drink and the AVA fella at the end had to send his meal back (he ordered prime rib and somehow that translated into pig ribs. But that’s OK! They could have his medium well Prime rib out to him in 3 minutes. Can you say Nuked?) and then the waitress left it at the other end of the table while she handed out all the other dinners. Poor fella. Man, the service is abysmal there. I have never eaten there and had even adequate service. DAMNIT! We forgot to drop by Donald’s and give him his present. D’OAH!

After cleaning like mad things we had Bubbles, Badmovie, Alessar and Scott over to watch potential Smithee nominees. One was an Anna Nichole Smith flick where she was some sort of under cover agent (because, you know, she “blends”) and there was a bunch of mafia people and a CD ROM disc of evil…or maybe good and a bald tattooed guy who was bad. There may have been a plot; there were definitely boobs. And explosions. In fact, “To the Limit” may have been describing where they were taking the gratuitous nudity and mega explosions. Oh! And a guy fell off of the Hoover Dam after he had a CD flung into his face (which, of course, buried itself into his brain) and he may have been shot too. If he had caught on fire it would have been a perfect movie. Alas.

The second movie was called Virus and it stank in the “not bad enough for Smithee purposes but not good enough to have been a good flick” way. I’m not even going to talk about it but to say that 1. it was so depressing that a Goth would find it disturbing and 2. it was so totally written by good old boys that my teeth started to crack and shatter from grinding them. I don’t consider myself a fem-nazi but in short, 800 men and 8 women are the sole survivors of the human race. After a rape incident, the women come to the council (all male) and demand some sort of protection and do you know what the council says? Well, since there are 800 guys and 8 women left in the world, all 8 of the women will have to become baby factories and sleep with all of the men. AND THE WOMEN AGREE!

OK, first things first…what happened with Mr. Rapist? Well nothing because the women will have to adjust to “a different kind of thinking now”. He gets off the hook, the women go meekly to the bed chamber. Dude, in my world of 800 guys and 8 women Mr. Rapist would be getting his long walk papers off of the shortest cliff available, thankyouverymuch. Second, I don’t care HOW lonely Mr. Friendly gets, you do not automatically get a crack at one of the 8 women left of Earth because you have an itch. Here’s some Kleenex and a quiet corner, deal with it. But instead, all the guys get “appointments” with the women (nightly? Several a night? Who knows!). Appointments! Just…ARRRGH! Stupid Stupid Stupid, not to mention genetically risky. Ahh, but who cares, the guys are getting laid. I hope they all die of hemophilia or stupidity or two head syndrome.

OK, I’m going back to Friday so I don’t have to think about that movie any more. We went to Paesano’s for my birthday dinner! *squee* We had a good bottle of wine (yay! Three and a glass halvsies), I had an awesome fish soup and we had pretty good dinners. I had some funky greens I wasn’t too happy with BUT I also had the potato thing with a giant mushroom in it. Bliss. Oh, and of course the cappuccino caddy. Mmmmm. I also got a present from TheMan: A set of peridot earrings and a necklace. I’m wearing them now. They is pretty and shiny. I love my man!

Hmm, I’m going to get more goodies. The Gourmet Birthday Ho-ho of Doom was pretty tasty after all. Yummm.

Last Year at the booniverse: YOW! I really need to check on my Yahoo account more often. Take a stroll down Spam lane.

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