Vampire Thursday: Nosferatu, Nosferatu Men Have Named You

Nosferatu (to the tune of "Mona Lisa")

Nosferatu, Nosferatu men have named you.
You're so like the monster with the canine smile.
Is it only 'cause you're hungry, they have blamed you
For that Nosferatu strangeness in your smile?

Do you smile to tempt a victim, Nosferatu?
Or is this your way to bite an exposed heart?
Many teens have been brought to your doorstep.
They just lie there, and they die there.
Are you warm, are you real, Nosferatu?
Or just a cold and hungry, lovely predator?

[musical interlude]

Do you smile to tempt a victim, Nosferatu?
Or is this your way to bite an exposed heart?
Many teens have been brought to your doorstep.
They just lie there, and they die there.
Are you warm, are you real, Nosferatu?
Or just a cold and hungry, lovely predator?

Nosferatu, Nosferatu.

Pick It Up!

The hippest thing ever on a kids tv show:
Yo Gabba Gabba! - Pick It Up (GOGO13)


Apart from the fact that the mutiracial siblings are a skinhead boy and a mod chick, and that their dad is a rude boy, there are many other little hidden little in jokes that regular Yo Gabba Gabba! viewers will notice.

Death Scene Contest III: Pee Wee versus Wally

Mr. Reubens:

Paul Reubens - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Death Scene


Mr. Shawn:



You make the call!

"Smells Good. Smells Like Destruction"

The Mythbusters strike again, this time experimenting with a minigun to see if it can take down a tree. Let's watch. . . .

***Update***

By the way, the quote in the title is Kari Byron's from the video. She truly is the Queen of the Geeks and Technaholics.

Acknowledgments to Transterrestrial Musings from whence this video came.

Monkey Tuesday: A Poem for Koko

---

Ape (part one)

(by Paul Vermeersch)

For Koko

Ape born in Frisco, born out of darkness of mountain
forests, out of rain that doesn't fall, but hovers.

Come, Ape, out of bushmeat trade and war zone,
out of coffee and tea for human need.

Come out of blood diamond, come out of strip mine,
out of pit viper and mosquito, out of tick.

Ape who lives in Woodside, Ape who rides in Honda,
who wears red sweater. Come speak.

Ape of legend, come. Out of colonial science, out of Bible,
come monster of Skull Island, of Original Sin, of
City of Gold, come take this kitten to your breast
and speak of love unconditional, Earthmotherhood.

What did the old men make of you, Ape, when they drew
their Victorian cartoon, when they posed for their
daguerreotype holding your scalp? Teeth of the meat-
eater, murderer's hands, bush devil, gargoyle, proof.

Come Morning Star, come Adversary, daughter of the East.
Come beast-thing, come witch, child of the Nephilim,
giant in the Earth, come demonstrate the egg-shell
gentleness of your strength.

And what did the young men make of you when they came
with their machete genocide, radiating smoke?

They made you Lamb of the wilderness, one animal's breath
at the centre of the green and white day. Hush-a-bye,
hidden, quiet with your kind on the unclimbed slopes.

There, in shadow, in the hovering rain, the family almost stirs.

-- Unpublished. © 2009 Paul Vermeersch. Exclusive to The Globe and Mail. All Rights Reserved.

---

No mention of "Kiss, kiss, nipple" or "Give Koko candy"? I don't think this poet understands Koko at all! And "Earthmotherhood"? What's up with that Germanesque merging of words? Bah.

Monkey Tuesday: Sexy Monkey Shower Scene

THE URKOBOLD HAS HEARD HIS READERS' DEMANDS FOR MORE MONKEY PORN! ENJOY THIS SEXY SHOWER SCENE!*




*. . .YOU SICK, SICK FUCKS!

Word of the Day: Schadenfreudelicious

scha·den·freu·de·li·cious [shahd-n-froi-duh-lish-uhs]

–adjective
1. Satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else's misfortune to such an extent that it becomes highly pleasing to the senses.

Origin:
[German: Schaden, damage (from Middle High German schade, from Old High German scado) + Freude, joy (from Middle High German vreude, from Old High German frewida, from frō, happy); Middle English, from Anglo-Norman, from Late Latin dēliciōsus, pleasing, from Latin dēlicia, pleasure: dē-, intensive pref.; see de- + lacere, to entice.]

Pictured: Unidentified man feeling schadenfreudelicious as America suffers.

Torrijas: "French" Toast for Adults

My wife and I went to a Spanish restaurant this past weekend to celebrate our anniversary and enjoyed some great cuisine--champagne sangría for both of us, Pompano Papillot Almendrina for her, and paella for me. Awesome.

Anyway, Mrs. Libertate was so pleased with the meal that I checked out some Spanish cookbooks from the library. Among them was Mario Batali's recent Spain. . .A Culinary Road Trip, which is the companion book to his epynomous PBS special. As I flipped through the book, thrilling over the many great foods that Spain has to offer, I ran across something I hadn't heard of before: torrijas. I initially dismissed this dish as just another variation on French toast, but then I noticed that the preferred syrup didn't come from a tree but from the vine. Here's the recipe:

Ingredients:

* 3 cup(s) olive oil
* 2 cup(s) dry Spanish wine
* 3 large eggs
* 18 slice(s) (1/2-inch thick) crusty Spanish bread (or substitute a baguette)
* 1/4 cup(s) sugar
* 2 teaspoon(s) ground cinnamon, mixed with above sugar
* Mosto (see Tips & Techniques)

Directions:

1. Heat the olive oil in a large heavy pot over medium-high heat until it reaches 365 degrees F.
2. Meanwhile, pour the wine into a large shallow bowl, add the bread, and let soak briefly, until evenly moistened. In another shallow bowl, beat the eggs until well mixed. Working in batches, remove the bread from the wine, draining well, add to the eggs, and turn to coat on both sides, then add to the hot oil, and cook for until golden brown, about 1 minute per side.
3. Drain on paper towels, then sprinkle with the cinnamon sugar, drizzle with mosto, and serve.

Tips & Techniques:

Mosto is a Spanish term that refers to unfermented grape juice. Mosto is often cooked to reduce it, but it can be used in its raw state during harvest times. To mimic this at home, boil 3 cups dry red wine with 1 cup sugar, a cinnamon stick, and a splash of fresh apple cider until it is reduced by three-quarters (it will be thick and syrupy). Allow it to cool, then store it in a clean wine bottle. Use whenever you need a sweet, grapey punch, in everything from a salad dressing to an ice cream topping.

From Spain. . .A Culinary Road Trip ©2008 HarperCollins Publishers.

In Spain, mosto is, as the recipe indicates, derived from unfermented grape juice, but the mimic recipe that Batali put together for mosto involves red wine. Interesting.

Sulu Friday: O Captain! My Captain!

Sulu Friday: What His Lair Should Contain

Besides that, I'd guess he'd want a hair dryer, the inside of a U Haul "Air Ride" van, two toasters, and a swiss army knife.

what else should Sulu have in his lair?

(photo credit)

Wayne Sulu Friday

Wayne watched the black BMW X3 speed away. Its brake lights flashed momentarily as it turned right and zoomed out of sight.

He quietly mouthed the numbers and letters of the license plate. Out of state.

By this time, a crowd had gathered. One does not normally hear gunshots at the corner of Clay and Montgomery. The lifeless body of the client lay in a gathering pool of blood. Nearby, his wrecked car still sputtered, having lost the battle with the concrete-reinforced wall. Skid marks, broken glass, shell casings, and chaos told of something that had happened quickly, violently, and left all of this in its wake.

Wayne knew he was close. The fake butler talked to the police, song and verse, and revealed details about their plan. The messages were encoded, where only the first and last person knew the code, thereby making the sentences that contained the code, absolutely useless. That trip to Corning. 'Cracking the code'. All bullshit. All planned by them.

He shook his head. His anger over losing the client was less than his anger over losing. He had long since learned to deal with the open questions, the not-quite-solved mystery, the times the Bad Guy gets away... but this time, he felt as though they won. At least Sulu got to kick some ass.

He took another step backwards. By this time, the cops had arrived and were cordoning off the scene, collecting statements, gathering evidence, measuring skid marks, and intruding on decent citizens.

Wayne started to turn and walk away. He froze. The jab in his ribs couldn't be Sulu welcoming him back. He's not that tall.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Please to come with me."

They turned and walked down Clay street, towards Sansome, where a gray Mercedes was waiting, the back door open.