Deadly sins are supposed to be fun! I would happily lust, wrath, pride, gluttony and greed all goddamn day! Or at least I would, if I weren't so goddamn lazy! But envy? No one enjoys that! It's just a pain in the ass for everyone involved!

-- Todd in the Shadows, "Jealous by Nick Jonas"

So I have decided to indulge in one of my favourites, gluttony, going with Sylvia, all four members of Griffin Engineering, and Mon and I, that being the girl half of Skycom Tower Group. Dan has a midterm on Saturday (???) and was seriously high strung, and Mickey was just not feeling it, I guess.

So we go to Cambridge Mill.

First things first - it's a beautiful restaurant, with seats overlooking what I think is the Grand River. It's really as close to Rivendell as I've ever seen.

Secondly, the drinks. I had the cider sangria (Peach Schnapps, Triple Sec, Dubonnet, West Avenue Dry Heritage Cider, $12). Delicious fruity drink with floating chunks of strawberry.

Thirdly, the food. It was "Shuck a Buck Thursday". Oysters were fine. Not particularly big. $1/oyster is still a good deal. Bread was herby, fluffy, squishy. Big holes. Butter was nice. Also ordered the black cod (Miso-Maple Glaze, Smoky Ham Broth, Bok Choy, Shiitakes, $29). Presentation was soupier and noodlier than I expected but the cod was perfect and buttery and flaky and sweet. Yeah. Also everyone who ordered the truffle fries with their steak had wayyy too many to finish by themselves.

Fourthly, more drinks. I had a Canadian Avalanche (Butterscotch Schnapps, Hot Chocolate, $8). If there's someone you need drunk, that's how you do it - topped with whipped cream and ice cream. Sadly I had extreme difficulty finishing it, delicious as it was. On the other end of the table Dan of Griffin Engineering managed to eat a cabbage roll soup (which is one step away from a casserole), butcher's choice cut (bison) and apple pecan cheesecake. And bread. My gosh.

Overall it was one of the best dining experiences of my life.

Then we go to Heaven Gastroclub at the university plaza.

I order the long island iced tea. It is weirdly medicinal. I swap with Mon's "sex on the sand" (is sex on the beach too mainstream for a gastroclub?) and she makes the weirdest face I've seen on a person since probably 2013.

They've also gone for an interesting take on the "club" part of "gastroclub" through the use of some shitty club music. It's like when you walk into a video game club and the ambient music is pathetically generic and politely volumed, like if the designers have never set foot into a club before and think that's how it should be.

Also deeply unimpressed with the service. Waitress asked Ryan if he wanted another old-fashioned when it was still mostly full - because an untouched old-fashioned still leaves the cup mostly-empty? Then she brought the bills and didn't even ask if we wanted to pay cash. Just clung to them while punching numbers. No wonder the gastroclub is so empty. Any more patrons and the waitress wouldn't be able to even function.

I can't post the mix I've been compiling for nearly three months. It makes me feel weird. Too many injokes.

Discontent was just a dump of the angriest, most disgruntled songs I had in my library last summer. Coping Mechanism was no doubt inspired by true events, but I let the resemblances settle out and then picked less-intuitive songs for their lyrical rather than sentimental value.

Earlier today, Fallout came up on the radio and I laughed.

--

As a lifetime member of the Anti Douche Tattoo Movement I can't wear this shirt. Furthermore, I can't read it, although it's pretty satisfying in terms of design and irony. In addition, it's in simplified. I guess we know who prevailed in that battle in the 26th century. 

Dammit. More window shopping.

--

The vodka jelly should be sufficiently set soon.

Spent work reading Antony and Cleopatra. 

--

I feel weird.

And I guess that's why the counsellor told me to stop thinking about the future - it doesn't lead to anything but crap.

Dammit, I recognize this feeling. A careful, paranoid, intellectual consideration, accompanied by a weird abdominal lurchy feeling. 

--

Had a good time at with Morwaie at Smoke's Poutinerie/ C'est What today. The poutine was difficult to finish because it was huge. I managed to reduce mine to a few curds and a smear of gravy, but Morwaie only managed the top third of hers. 

Then we went to a nearby bar. I consumed a Ricard's Red. She had a screwdriver.

We found the bartender sort of dismissive so we left and went to C'est What, where the first thing she did was order two huggie bears - peppermint schnapps and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Delicious. Followed it up with a bottle of Trois Pistoles, which was really mild and rather tasty. Again, I failed to order a drink suavely, because the beer came in a bottle and therefore didn't require sizes. Oops. Then I had a mental tip calculation failure. 

She told me about the failure of 982 and Kitty. It's not just me that's realized that 982 has gone off the deep end lately, but that was a factor in his breakup a few months ago. 982 and Kitty were really, really cute together, embodying the best of chivalry and kawaii. But he broke up with her because of the religion thing and because he was bored, after about four years.

Now you-know-who*2 are disgustingly cute together, I hear, because he doesn't have to change for her (e.g. get eyebrows plucked, get haircut, diversify portfolio). That's as good a reason as any. 

for future reference.

The major criteria are bolded.

0 - sober
1 - feels slight buzz, no significant change in behaviour. 
2 - lowered boundaries, begin to lose feeling in lips.
3 - significant loss of feeling in face, noticeably worsened balance (by self), but still competent.
4 - no longer in control of situation but doesn't care, too friendly, very questionable competency.
5 - 100% loss of emotional control, 50% chance of regurgitation, can still open doors.
6 - significant memory loss, doorknobs are difficult 100% chance of regurgitation.
KO - blackout

I was asked to post again, although I have nothing to say.

After Tuesday, I better understand why drunk people are such cause for concern. Sure they might feel fine, but they sure don't look it. Apathy towards posture and slight loss of balance mean flopsies on any available surface. Such behaviour in a sober person is already cause for concern.

A few days ago there was a quote -

The amateur pretends to be drunk. The veteran pretends to be sober. 

Or something like that, but it's not really important right now. 

*

Oatmeal For The Damned
Fill half a bowl with flavoured instant oatmeal mix and plain oatmeal mix. Generally I like two instant packets of cinnamon-apple with the same volume of plain oatmeal. Top up with milk leaving about an inch of room at the top.  If no milk, then water, but milk is far superior to water. Also, I prefer my oatmeal extremely thick and lumpy because it's less messy to eat and less likely to spill when I'm taking it out of the microwave. 

Microwave for two to three minutes depending on how big your bowl is. Remove from microwave. Crack an egg or two onto the oatmeal and stir for consistency. The heat of the oatmeal should cook the egg. If it's not sweet enough, add honey. If no honey, add jam. Someone in the house will have jam. If no jam, suck it up and add another flavoured oatmeal packet the next time.

TLDR: Instant oatmeal + plain oatmeal cooked in milk with raw eggs mixed in afterwards. Best oatmeal ever. Covers all the food groups if you use fruit in the flavouring. 

Fake Fried Rice
In a rice cooker pot, rinse rice and add as much water as you normally use. Add frozen peas/carrots/corn/etc until it looks about right, usually not a lot. Slice two sausages or whatever kind of meat happens to be available. Cover with the rice pot lid and cook in the rice cooker as if you didn't just put a lot of other stuff in with the rice.

Let the rice cooker do it's job until it's about three minutes from finishing. Crack two eggs or on top of the rice and cover until the rice cooker is done. If the eggs are still not cooked, let the rice cooker cook them using the "keep warm" function or give up and eat them as-is. 

Take the rice pot out of the rice cooker. Add salt and pepper. Eat with a wooden spoon. 

Technically it's "rice first" fried rice but it might as well be "eggs first" fried rice. Either way, it's not fried, and impossible to screw up.

I Call It Chili
Obtain a medium-sized can of beans. Doesn't matter much as long as it has sauce and is MIXED beans, not all the same type of beans in a can. 

Make rice in a rice cooker. Cook a lump of meat in the cooker at the same time, lid on. I have some leftover frozen onions that I'll be using there next time too to make it more chili-like. Meanwhile, microwave the can of beans in a container that can be used for food storage later, like those pyrex things.

When the rice is done spoon half the beans onto one side of the rice so that half the rice gets sauce. Spoon the remaining rice into the pyrex container with the beans in it. Top both portions with chili flakes. I felt so awesome when I realized I could stretch out a can of beans into two meals.

Macaroni In Rice Cooker
I hope you like your macaroni slightly burned and caramelized. 
Add macaroni to bowl. Add less water than normal because you don't really want to go and drain it later, plus, dry macaroni is infinitely preferable to mushy macaroni. Cook macaroni in rice cooker with the lid off like nothing's wrong. Meanwhile, slice cheese. 

When almost all the water is absorbed into the macaroni, top macaroni with the slices of cheese. When the cooker says it's done the bottom of the macaroni will be a little bit burned but it will still taste ok. Top with chili flakes.

Noodles
As before. Chop a few leaves of napa cabbage and some boilable meat. Like asian fish bar thing or chinese sausage. Boil in water in rice cooker, lid off. Not a lot of water, just enough for the amount of noodles you plan to add. When meat is cooked add noodles and continue cooking. Noodles don't need a lot of time to cook, and they get mushy easily. Add chili flakes.  

*

The open secret is my favourite kind of secret. An open secret is something everybody knows but is never formally acknowledged by the parties who are supposed to be able to formally acknowledge it. Such open secrets include Area 51, the Men In Black, (formerly) the NSA, and the In-and-out Burger off-menu items. I like it because it's decidedly non-tragic, not particularly disappointing, and lacks dramatic irony, because everyone knows what's going on.

*

I really, really like my own breasts. 

*

And I wasn't kidding when I said "We need to talk" is one of the most nauseating phrases in the English language. That phrase fucking terrifies me. Nothing good ever comes out of it. Well, actually it can, but the process is invariably uncomfortable. ALWAYS. 

Also it's the same feeling as when my apartmentmates knock on my room door. I feel like I've done something wrong or am about to be arrested. 

Speaking of the apartment, a guy microwaved a potato and it set off the fire alarm. 

That is all.

I dreamed I was at work and was warned for my abuse of internet access. Then I was forced to calculate sanitary sewer population densities of the building where I worked. It was horrible.

I will endeavour not to rewrite my own history. Also, I bought ginger ale and vodka, and then found a ten dollar bill on someone's lawn. Ahh, boozing up pays.