How does anything exist as crazy as popcorn?

I mean, seriously.  Think about it.  Name one other thing that has to explode before you can eat it.  I read somewhere that this property can me mostly attributed to starch and moisture, but then come on, potato, what's the deal?  Maybe a potato would just take more heat...I wonder if you could build a bomb calorimeter large enough to hold an entire potato if it would be possible to 'pop' it into a larger, fluffier version of its' former self.  Has anyone tried this? 

And speaking of bomb calorimetry, are we really convinced this is the best way to measure our food?  Is digestion really so linear and void of variety in metabolic processes that it would suffice to categorize everything based on how much heat is produced when you torch it to oblivion?  Just a thought.

Carry on.

All I need is a Foie Gras Chapeau.

...or some kind of belt fashioned out of a fruit roll-up would suffice, I suppose. I just found out (probably, oh, light-years behind everyone else) that Lady Gaga recently wore a dress made out of meat. Uh. What? Seriously? You're...serious. Aren't you.

I've decided it's actually retarded enough to be totally undeserving of any further discussion. Not even with regard to how disgusting and insulting that is (in particular, to people who can't even afford to eat it, let alone wear it.) Not even that.

You can thank me later.

Or, actually, you can thank my family from Northwestern Ontario, Canada, from whom I've learned two very valuable skills:

1. How to fish.
2. How to drink.

...in no particular order. Ironically, the quality of fish are inversely proportional to the quality of beer, unless of course you're not quite the pretentious Seattle microbrewery A-hole that I am and would order a Coors Light during your last meal. That's ok.

Thus, in this particular pursuit of knowledge I'm delighted to bring you the newest recipe for your next classy get-together: the Canadian Beergarita. Recipe as follows:

Dump 1 can of frozen lemonade into a blender.
Fill empty lemonade can with vodka. Add to blender.
Add 1 beer.
Blend and enjoy.

I know what you're thinking. What's with the vodka? Where's the tequila?...how can that even be good? First of all, it's Canadian. As long as you put the word Canadian in front of it you get to use whatever Mexican naming associations you want and make things that have no cultural resemblance to anything Mexican and claim ignorance by distance. Secondly, just trust me. It's amazing. And by amazing I mean you should probably not underestimate the power of frozen lemonade to hide things which will knock you on your ass.

In exchange, I introduced my family to hummus, and in retrospect, everyone suffered. Let's just say it's easy to take for granted having already adapted to a legume-rich diet at some point. Ahem.

There's a new sherriff in town, sucka!!

Since I'm actually terrible at blogging (shocking, I know) I've completely failed to include much of the actual, pertinent information in my life over the past, well, forever. I am going to tell myself that adds some sort of mystique since I think it's a waste of time to recap when the present is always so full of such fun things.

What's that? Fun things? Oh, like, I dunno, the new fancy camera I just invested my right arm in. And yes, I'm right handed. But seeing as all of the pictures coming from my little baby Lumix are so fabulous (credit to the camera) I figured it was high time to upgrade to mama Lumix and get me a GF-1. Oh. Yes. And what do I have to say about it, after having owned it an entire 24 hours and barely had a chance to use it? I'm in love. The shutter thingy is, well, just so fast, and playing with the little buttons really does make a difference! Although I'm pretty sure everyone working at Glazer's camera yesterday is convinced I'm an absolute moron. And you know- I really am, when it comes to camera settings and, uh, stuff. Although I do enjoy my old Pentax which, ironically, I bought to learn the basics like a good hard-core film-developing snob. Note to self and others: it's actually kind of difficult to learn about how setting affect the outcome of pictures under varying light conditions a month later when you get around to developing the film and have no effing clue what you did. Huh.

I digress. Back to the camera. Here's dog:

And here's 15 minutes of trying to figure out how the hell to use Gimp while procrastinating on other, more 'important' tasks:

In other words, I'm still completely clueless.

At any rate, I'm eager to see what this puppy can do (camera, not dog. Dog capabilities have been well established before now.)

6 months? Seriously? Oh well. Doesn't matter.

Because, really, it's about time to admit I even write anything down on this blog thing is because curiosity got the best of me and I just had to see what it was all about. I guess I'm still not sure what makes blogging absolutely fabulous. It's also entirely possible that it's only a satisfying or worthwhile endeavor when people actually read your blog, which really only happens (I'm guessing) when a) reading it is actually worthwhile and b) people actually know it exists. I guess I'm just not the self-promoting type. (That could be a lie.)

I'm holed up in a Denver hotel room watching cable tv, which sounded really fun until I figured out it hasn't gotten any better since last time I decided it was overrated. I'm watching this show called "Cake Boss" right now. It's just like in high school physics class when everyone has to get in groups and build popsicle-stick bridges over a somewhat lengthly period of time that are actually stable, only it's high school, so you spend about half the time actually thinking about and building a bridge and the other half of the time trying to navigate the weird social dynamics and drama that naturally occur between random samplings of 16-year-old kids who are still trying to figure out just how overinflated their egos need to be in order to make it in the world.

But maybe you got to pick your own groups and then you probably just built a bridge. At any rate, it's making my head hurt.