Snowy Blah Chachouka

It's cold today, and a light dusting of snow on the ground. Not the kind of morning where ya rise and shine. Nonetheless, I awoke at a bit before five to read the news and such. Good day for chachouka, a Moroccan/Tunisian dish, and coffee.

Here's what ya do [spices are what I whip together - you can choose yer own]:

Thinly slice some peppers. I use green peppers because of the cost factor, but any bell pepper will do. I then dice 'em, and do the same with garlic cloves and onions. Sautee these veggies in olive oil - I use a wok with enough oil to cover the bottom. Once they get somewhat translucent, I drop in a can of Italian tomatoes in juice [crushed or diced, no matter]. Let this cook down, stirred up, covered. I put in cumin powder, turmeric, white pepper, basil and red pepper flakes.

Once the stew has cooked down a bit [20 minutes or so, stir occasionally to keep it from sticking/browning], crack in eggs. I used three this morning. You can poach 'em, or like I did today, turn off the heat and cover, letting sit for ten minutes or so. This way, they were sunny side up, good for dipping with bread.

Serve over rice with bread for dipping into the eggs. Yummy and filling.

Today, I also enjoyed Caribe` coffee ["for the Latin taste"] with a pat of butter stirred in, Abyssinian-style. No sugar or cream. Goes nicely with chachouka.

Great way to start a frigid morning.

Once I finish my repast, I will do my bills and hope the wind stops blowing. Maybe around noon I will go for a run on the beach. It's 34 F outside [back in Detroit, I ran in as cold weather as 7 F, so layer up!]

This afternoon and evening, football!
Think I'll make glop for that ;-)

1/19 Snow Falling Apropos

January Nineteenth.
I went on active duty on that day in 1985. Aviation Officer Candidate School, NAS Pensacola, Florida. Ice was falling from the sky. We got yelled-at a lot. [Think of that movie, An Officer and a Gentleman, only not as quiet or polite.]

Virginia Beach and Norfolk, 23 years later. Flakes coming down. Dig the subtle irony. I'd be a Commander by now, maybe a Captain, even, if I had stayed in. I'd be a different person, for certain. No worries.

Ow!

Man, I am hurting. Not a good reason for not posting, but I've been getting a couple of hours of sleep each night [no, not due to activity!!].

I have aggrievated my left rotator cuff [non-throwing side]. Originally, I had suffered some inflammation to the area back in '01, when I wrecked my mountain bike [remember?]. Not entirely sure, but I was on the phone with my pal, Mallory, a week ago and slouched against my truck's door [stretching the left side.....] Next morning when I awoke, I was hurting. It has gotten better. Strangely, it did not hurt yesterday in the daytime, maybe because I was at home and could eat ibuprofen every couple of hours and rub down with IcyHot. Can't get comfortable while lying down and refuse to sleep sitting up.

Any nurses out there? Yes, I know I am abusing myself somewhat, what with dosages of ibuprofen, and Monster Energy drinks and coffee, and sleeping aids..... count backwards, then, from the end of my life, and we'll be square. All things must pass. George Harrison said that.

Fuelled

Folks, I am angry with mob mentality and bloodlust, and I am spouting off here.
If you are easily offended, might want to sit this one out.
Charmaine, use your best judgement.

I am sick to death of sanctimonious sons of bitches. Allow me to explain: Jim Leyritz drove while intoxicated, and while his license was suspended. He ran a red light, and struck another vehicle. The driver of the other car, Fredia Ann Veitch, a mother of two children, was killed.

There's a lot of people out there in the blogosphere preaching. Her name was Fredia Ann Veitch. If you are going to preach to me, you sanctimonious sons of bitches, at least do grant her the decency of identification. She had a name. Fredia Ann Veitch. Don't pontificate as though you know something special, something priviledged because you are expressing your opinion: Jim drove drunk and caused an accident in which Fredia, a person whom he knew and was friends with, died. You do her injustice when you do not name her. She died.

Fredia lies dead.
Jim's life is destroyed.
Those of you out there who call for Jim's head on a platter, what does it matter? Should I be impressed by your sanctimonious anger at his transgression? His life is destroyed by his terrible choice. Do not say, nay, do not think that I am condoning Jim's poor decision. The man has a history of alcohol induced poor decisions, and this last one cost someone, a friend of his no less, Fredia Ann Veitch, a mother of two, her life. Jim will pay according to the penal system, and rightly so. Castigating Jim won't bring her back. Castigating Jim does not make you knowing or powerful in my eyes. No, you are just another pathetic band-waggoning loser, homes, and
you can chupo mi huevos, you sanctimonious, pathetic wretch. Why don't you go bugger a dai-oni, homes? Fucking wankers.

Fredia is dead.
Jim is destroyed.
Stop trying to make a name for yourself through slander.
We're on to your games, pathetico.
Go suck on a ruger, motherfuckers;
hope you catch the perfect sturm.
Fuck off and die.