God I Love Me » I am awesome.

Vegan Hot Seitan

Me! — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 01:09:03 +0000

I don’t eat meat. Or dairy. I don’t because it gives you an elitist edge of snobbery that you just won’t get if you while away your days sucking down 32oz Blizzards at “the DQ”. The one thing I do miss is Prince’s Hot Chicken. If you’ve never been there you should check it out. It’s in a super-questionable neighborhood in a filthy building. Also, Gwyneth Paltrow’s assistant ate there once.

It’s gotten so bad that I’ve started having dreams — nightmare’s really — about it. Every night that I’ve had one too many limoncellos (which is every night), is a night that I inch closer and closer to snapping.

So, using a modified version of this recipe (which is pretty close to Prince’s), I’ve concocted a vegan tribute that is pretty goddamn close, except no disgusting filthy animals with brains the size of a pea had to die for it.

Preparing the Seitan: I used store-bought Seitan strips which were kind of dry, so I covered them with a little almond milk. I know it looks like I soaked them, but I didn’t, so I don’t give a shit what you think that picture up there is telling you. This is probably a step that you can avoid if you make your own seitan but I was high and lazy. The Veganomicon has a pretty good recipe for seitan. After that, drag the seitan through plain ol’, regular self-rising flour.

Fry that Seitan: I use a 3:1 blend of vegetable and peanut oil. Also, I use a cast iron skillet, which is what Prince’s uses. The pan probably doesn’t matter as much, because Prince’s never washes them and uses lard. Let the oil heat up first and then fry using medium to medium-high heat.

Hot Stuff: After the seitan is good and crispy, that’s when you cover it in sauce. Here’s how I made it:

1/4 cup shortening, melted
3 tsp brown sugar
1 tsp onion powder
1 tbsp seasoned salt
At least 3 tbsp cayenne pepper

Instead of shortening, it probably would have been better to use something like Smart Balance. I also used way more cayenne because I likes it hot. 3 tbsp makes it about “Mild/Medium” hot, or hawt, depending on your preference.

Success: After covering one side in sauce, put the seitan on some white bread (sauce-side down) and cover the other side with sauce. Serve with crinkle cut fries and a pickle, if that’s your thing (ie you’re a communist). Above is a picture of the final product. Below is what Prince’s generally looks like:

Bon appétit, chumps

My credit card image got approved

Me! — Tue, 11 May 2010 01:04:50 +0000

Capital One has this thing where you can design your own credit card. Naturally, I chose a close-up picture of meat. I guess since it’s not copyrighted, sexually inappropriate, have religious imagery, feature the olympics, or have a candid Glamour Shot® of Adolph Eichmann, it got approved. So, in 7-10 business days, I should be able to buy all the aquariums and lava lamps my credit limit can bear. Now I just have to wait for my name change to Lee Marcel Cardholder to go through.

Explain To Me Why This Is Funny

Me! — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 21:56:14 +0000

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. People who find the comics in The New Yorker funny deserve to be punched in the back of the head. I present to you this abject example of banality:

Seriously, fuck The New Yorker. Unless this is about that whole Haiti thing.

I have no idea what it means. Do they jump really high now in football? Is it about steroids? I thought that was a baseball thing.

No wait, I get it now. It’s about the health care legislation. Like the flying football player is all about the progressive changes the administration is wanting, and the curmudgeon on the ground is like those right wingers that prefer the old way of doing things. You know, where the maximum is done to punish the needy and the minimum is done to curtail the excesses of the upper-crust plutocracy that controls 95% of the nations wealth. Oh wait, that can’t be it — the NFL has private insurance.

Seriously, I’ll give anyone a coupon good for one free back rub* if they can explain to me why this is funny. I really want to know (mainly because if you tell me, it’s likely that you find this cartoon in some way amusing, and I can punch you in the back of the head).

*By “back rub” I mean handjob, and by “free” I mean $20.

You know what I do? I solve problems.

Me! — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 07:09:44 +0000

I am often asked, “Jimmy, who’s your best one, Bill Pullman or Bill Paxton?” The question, as often as I hear it, has become quite laughable, for I have come to the only logical solution.

I boldly respond, “Neither, for I choose the bastard son of the two Bills. I choose Olyphant.”

Could you imagine those two doin' it? I know right.

This is How I’m Pathetic.

Me! — Mon, 25 May 2009 07:22:01 +0000

So I’m wicked hungover the other morning because I was up late the night before celebrating the big promotion I got at the office for how I handled the Fisher Account. Now, my morning routine after I’ve had one or three too many limoncellos, is to get on the onlines and check out my sites. After MILFhunter.com and wikipedia articles about Elephantiasis and Diane Arbus that somehow managed to meander to an article about the differences between Jewish and Islamic dietary laws, I go to CNN.com to check the latest headlines for oddities. If you don’t know what I’m talking about go to this link, because I don’t have time to go into it, and I feel like I’ve already babbled on and on without even getting to the point.

Oh, and there is a point.

The point is this little gem that I find tucked away near the end of their latest headlines:

Hannah Montana has a Montana Sized Hunger.

Wuh-oh everybody, Miley Cyrus wants people to know she’s had it up to here, and by here, I mean the crest of her second chin. More precisely, I think she’s referring to the small plateau just above the crest of her second chin that seems to serve the evolutionary purpose of collecting crumbs from her nightly taquito binge-fests. These crumbs are then collected the following morning by Miley’s various servants who combine them with milk to form a basic nourishing paste which they use to feed their village. It’s the truth. They FedEx it and everything.

So apparently Miley is fat as all get-out.

At least that’s what I would have to assume because, double wuh-oh, the only information I can get on this dynamic topic is in the form of a video. You see that little video icon to the right of the headline? The only way I can learn more about Tubby Lumpkins is if I watch a video. Well. fuck. that.

Two hours of unsuccessful googling and mindless browsing through gossip sites, I’m still not entirely sure if she’s gotten orca-fat or people are just being bitchy. So there you go. Instead of looking at naked people, I dicked around on the internet looking to see if some dumb bitch pop star who I hadn’t even heard of had gotten fat. And I even failed at that.

Oh wait.

J’accuse!

Me! — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 09:28:34 +0000

This is Bradley W. Cavanaugh:

AKA Chad Sexington

Ol’ Brad is wanted in Wichita, Kansas for felony theft. Although the wanted poster doesn’t say, and I’m no Columbo, I have a pretty good idea what he has stolen.

He has stolen my look.

You see that disheveled hair? That slack-jawed look? Those superfluously layered clothes? That’s all me.

I have spent the better part of a decade sleeping with wet hair, shaving intermittently and inaccurately, and perfecting my “Is that a beer?” look. To have all my work and artistry shamelessly grifted by this charlatan — this common poseur — nearly makes me want to throw my custom skull and dragon bong (which, btw, is awesome) against my fireplace mantle dedicated to the empty bottles of the various types of liquor I have drank.

You think I like funneling beer? Or waking up at noon? Or sitting through 8 hour DVD marathons of marginal television shows? Of course I don’t. However, I have committed to a unique and cutting edge style, and, because of my bold yet utterly fabulous choice, I must bear this cross of couture, and I must defend my unique style from any and all imitators — no matter how well they pull off a five o’clock shadow.

I hope they catch Brad. I hope they catch him soon, before he further dilutes my brand, and I hope they throw the proverbial book at him. I will be at every parole hearing to make sure that this nefarious swine serves every day of his sentence for what he’s done to me.

That is, as long as I remember to set my phone’s alarm clock and can borrow enough money for bus fare to Kansas, which I won’t be able to do.

I’m going to save this for later

Me! — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 21:43:35 +0000

This is basically nightmare fuel. I don't know where it's from. I used to have a bookmark to it, but the site hosting it took it down. But I found it again today (3:00 AM) while doing some researching (pornography). Now I will have it for. ev. er. Download it as you see fit, but I'm pretty sure seven days from seeing it, you die.

I apologize…

Me! — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 00:39:06 +0000

This little “technical difficulty” will be addressed

Urinal Advertising

Me! — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 16:55:50 +0000

I drink. A lot. Take however much you drink, multiply it by a really high number — say, your age — and that should give you a modest idea of how many drinks I’ve had while writing this post. The other thing I do when I’m out drinking is pee, also a lot. In fact, I would say I spend as much time in the bathroom at a bar as I do drinking at a bar — more so if I include the time I spend in bar bathrooms not urinating, if you know what I mean (wink-wink). Seriously, I have a bladder like a gerbil.

So, anyways, when I’m in the middle of one of my marathon 2 minute sissies all I have to look at, other than my enormous manhood or the slightly less-than enormous manhood of the guy next to me, is those annoyingly cheesy 8.5″x11″ ads they put up on the wall above the urinal. I’m usually pretty trashed, so what goes through my head while I’m looking at these things is “Oh my god, Becky, these ads are so hilariously bad. I’m going to try to take a picture of these mistakes of targeted advertising with my camera phone without splashing urine everywhere and then post them on my flickrfacespacebookjournal.com account tomorrow when I wake up. Then, my friends friend people who were dumb enough to add me as a friend will see how motherfucking funny I am. And then, they will love me.”

What actually happens, however, is I wake up in the afternoon, upload the pictures, and realize, of the ones that aren’t totally blurry, I can’t remember why most of them were funny. Of all the pictures I take, about 1% maybe end up getting posted anywhere. Oh, and no one finds them funny. So, what I’m going to do now is post some of the rejects and try to figure out why I thought they were funny. This should go over really well.

I'll tell you what's knocking, and it ain't opportunity. It's the spawn of Satan, come to Earth to judge those who doubted his father's true power. I think that's why I thought this was funny. That kid looks to be pretty much soulless. That or his dad just bought the house with one of those adjustable rate mortgages and used cash advances from his Sears card for the down payment, and the kid is just pissed that he has such a dumbass for a father. Good teeth, though. And what's up with the mom's shoulder pads in this one? Newsflash lady: the reason Hubby Ron is sticking it to that junior accountant at the insurance company where he works is entirely your fault. You dress like you're from that cult started by that French race car driver and your hair looks like you just got out of the hospital for postpartum depression circa 1986. I wouldn't even wear a condom if I was him. Junior accountants are usually pretty clean.

A gallery of animated things humping other things.

Me! — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 21:20:21 +0000

I recently installed Google Analytics on my blog and one of its features is the ability to find out what search terms people used on Google to find your site. What a wonderful world we live in where the Number 2 most frequently searched phrase that gets people to my blog is “animated humping”

These little freaks are coming here because of this post, and that’s awesome. The problem is that 40% of those pre-verts leave right after they click their link. There just isn’t enough animated humping action to satiate their beat-off needs.

Therefore, without further ado, I present to you my personal collection of animated .gifs of people and things humping. Please, sit back and enjoy!

Go Mario!

Kermit has a new Regular Saturday Night Thing.

When a person humps a tree, that's called dendraphelia.

I hate both the Willy Wonka movies, but you gotta admit this is hawt.

Sweet irony, thy name is 'mouse humping mouse'.

A classic animated hump.

Doin' it to some Lady Parts.

Hopefully this will keep the little furry freaks happy.