Porn house moved

Just like that, they were gone. Roar, Self Made, the chubbies...not a trace. I looked out the laundry room window today and noticed that all the blinds in their rental were up, and all the furniture and posters were gone. When did they move? I haven't been away for any significant stretch of time, and I think I would have noticed such a big operation. Things like this make you feel like you're crazy.

So much for my catering business. How am I supposed to come up with next month's rent? If I have to freelance-design any more business cards and stationery for bullshit little businesses I'm going to hit my writing hand with a hard mallet. Where's Ray? Maybe now that the sun has come out it's time to hit the links. At the very least, we can set up a PuttPro on his living room carpet and throw some money around until I'm solvent again.

I got one of those little things for coffee.

You know, those little blender-stick things that you stick into a cup of milk and sugar to froth it. After dicking around with coffee drinks for a while this afternoon, I stuck it in a bowl of olive oil, lemon juice and egg yolks and made an excellent mayonnaise. Feeling clever, I stuck it into a bowl of smoked salmon, cream cheese and chives and made a nice spreadable mousse. At that point I felt pretty unstoppable so I used it to blend up a double grapefruit margarita. The tequila and coffee combo put me in the zone and soon I had used it to carve a pretty decent Ben Franklin in the side of a pineapple. This thing is awesome.

Quiet around here

There's been a really bad cold snap around here lately, so Roar took his crew down to Mojave to film until it warms up again. Too bad, I was really enjoying cooking for them. Lyle's not around and Mr. Bear and Philippe aren't big eaters, so I don' t have anyone to make chuck roasts or chickens or anything large-scale for. It's back to grilled sandwiches and little fish filets for a while. Maybe I'll head up to the funny Asian markets in San Bruno and try to learn something new. I've always wanted to make Peking duck, maybe I'll give that a spin. No, scratch that. The whole point of Peking duck is the crispy skin, which is worse for you than bacon, and I need to lose this winter weight. Bears usually lose winter weight while hibernating, but we don't really hibernate anymore, and it's a rough transition. We all look like mouth-breathing fatsoes in our Christmas pictures, but come Memorial Day we all look like Scott Weiland. Well, not exactly, but we don't look so much like furry little Paul Prudhommes.