I very often wonder how long it takes to atrophy entirely, to utterly disappear on account of disuse.
I very often wonder how long it takes to atrophy entirely, to utterly disappear on account of disuse.
1. Substitute Greek yogurt for mayonnaise in hearty salad recipes including tuna, egg and chicken. Yummy!
2. Masturbate with Greek yogurt: it’s a highly effective lubricant and helps to prevent yeast infections.
3. Prepare soup of onion, sugar, salt, flour, beef stock, white wine, bay leaf, sage, cognac, salt and pepper, three-quarters of a pound of Swiss cheese. Use Greek yogurt in lieu of a quarter pound of Parmesan. Congratulations! You ruined Julia Child’s French onion.
4. Scapegoat Greek yogurt for your financial woes as the European Union does with Greece.
5. When in Rome, pillage Greek yogurt for its intellectual heritage and reduce it to a mere province of your sex- and violence-crazed empire.
6. Smear all over a rocking horse and leave it beside the white picket fence for your ex-boyfriend’s wife who is with child. Never trust Greek yogurt bearing gifts.
7. Replace high-cal maple syrup with Greek yogurt on your pancakes. Now you have slimy, dry pancakes!
8. Replace loving, supportive family members with Greek yogurt at the holidays for a low-calorie, high-protein reason to see your psychologist.
9. Partner with Greek yogurt to open your dream diner.
10. Build a Parthenon replica with empty Greek yogurt containers and sacrifice yourself at your plastic altar. Great way to upcycle!
Giant hogweed doesn’t sleep. It waits.
And it must be destroyed.
Hogweed has been plotting carefully for years. Hogweed has been committed to your destruction as you got soft, as you ate Chipotle and vacillated about whether or not to go to law school. Hogweed wants to burn you. Hogweed wants to kill your fucking pets. Hogweed wants you literally blind. An eye for an eye doesn’t fucking matter to hogweed because it doesn’t need vision. Hogweed thrives in the countryside, lurks in the suburbs, has its sappy foothold in the city. It moves wordlessly, silently, blindly, aided by wind and water. Hogweed’s ally is the No. 1 enemy of humans: the sun. The sun that burns you and causes cancer and kills the sexiest vampires on Trueblood also works for Team Hogweed to activate glucoside phototoxins that render your skin a worthless sack of blisters entirely vulnerable to ultraviolet light for years, and hogweed has more than enough glucoside phototoxins to blind and burn your whole damn family.
(Hogweed damage to humans - warning: slightly graphic)
Hogweed is the Spartan warrior of invasive weeds. It trains for years. It prefers harsh winters, like those in its native Caucasus, the same region that produced Joseph Stalin, or in Buffalo. In its last year of life, in a kamikaze act of bioterrorism, it grows thousands of tiny white blossoms, its decedents, in glorious tufts called “umbels,” the beauty of which once inspired sociopathic Brits to import the leafed demon for ornamental gardening. “Tut, tut! Behold this beautiful specimen. I shall bring it to my mistress! Nevermind that it chemically burns Jeeves!”
In order to become a 14-foot-tall, hulking botanical monster, giant hogweed (a/k/a Heracleum mantegazzianum a/k/a destroyer of epidermis) sinks its roots into the ground for three to five years. Hogweed is patient. Hogweed requires cold, frozen ground for a dormancy period as per its agreement with Beelzebub, and for this reason it thrives in chillier regions like the U.S. Northeast, Ontario, Quebec and the Pacific Northwest.
In its last year of life, hogweed emerges from its bunker ready to do battle with human skin cells everywhere and spread its seed.
Were you adequately preparing to do battle with hogweed all winter and spring? Probably fucking not. While you were sleeping off your holiday hangovers, hogweed was securing its position under the snow. When you quit attending thrice-weekly spin classes, hogweed redoubled its commitment to physical strength and dominance. As you razed your snack stadium, hogweed stockpiled its venom. As you lazily contemplated your bikini body from months out, hogweed began its advance. Now it’s summertime, and in the battle of human versus hogweed, the odds don’t look too fucking good.
Hogweed loves waterways. In fact, in botanical parlance, the Erie Canal is the “Hogweed Highway.”
If you actually encounter this fucking monster that is EVERYWHERE, do not touch it. Like, for heaven’s sake, you little goddamn contrarian, do not put your body in contact with its leaves and flowers and thick, prickly stalk. Hogweed produces a sap that contains furanocoumarins, chemicals that upon contact with your skin, bind to cells and kill them by attacking DNA. When this sap is on your skin and also exposed to sunlight (which, duh, is really fucking likely because you’re outside), a reaction called phytophotodermatitis occurs, resulting in burns and the utter and complete vulnerability of your body in the effected area to the sun. In large enough quantities, hogweed sap may be mutagenic, carcinogenic and lead to birth defects. It takes years to fully recover from the effects of a full-on hogweed assault. The hogweed sap is extra toxic to eyeballs and can lead to permanent blindness.
To fight hogweed, humans have a few options.
1. Stay inside forever. Perfect.
2. Behead the flowering plant like it’s Medusa and stuff its hermaphroditic umbels into three plastic trash bags, which you will then allow to bake in the sun for weeks in order to thoroughly kill its offspring. Dismember the plant and dig up its root. Give over your land to the eradication of hogweed for the next several years.
3. Call the DEC and ask them to beat the living shit out of your hogweed. According to a friend who works in government, few things make the deadened eyes of an environmental bureaucrat light up like the prospect of a battle with hogweed. Like trigger-happy soldiers, the DEC just wants to get out there with shovel and spade and destroy these fuckers.
4. Don’t weed-whack your hogweed. It will shower sap and seed everywhere, setting you up for years more plants and skin-burning agony.
5. Don’t fucking burn your hogweed. This may make your sap into an aerosol and then everyone in your neighborhood is blind.
6. Contribute to global warming. Hogweed can’t survive in warm climates.
Hogweed has its apologists, of course, mostly Illuminati at the highest levels who secure their fortresses with moats of hogweed. Its ability to spread prolifically and resist eradication, however, should make any sane person wary of efforts to justify its presence.
If you don’t believe me on that matter, consider the lyrics of the greatest rock band of all time, Genesis:
Fashionable country gentlemen had some cultivated wild gardens,
In which they innocently planted the Giant Hogweed throughout the land.
Botanical creature stirs, seeking revenge.
Royal beast did not forget.
Soon they escaped, spreading their seed,
Preparing for an onslaught, threatening the human race.
I call upon Congress to devote a considerable portion of the defense budget to war on this botanical terror. Fuck this devil weed.
When in Rome
Favorite snacks of the great writers!
I love lime Popsicles.
NO MORE NO LESS TWENTY-SEVEN DON’T FUCKING BLOW IT - (Rose punch recipe)
Apparently this mothafuckin fish is making a comeback in the lakes around Buffalo. I hate this fish and it must be destroyed.
The lake sturgeon is so reprehensible that to prove its status as an utterly nasty lil’ fuckin’ trashbin with fins, I need only point to the facts about the species as provided by Wikipedia. There’s no debating that this thing is Satan’s watery sidekick.
The sturgeon is a bottomfeeder that doesn’t even have proper bones. It’s an evolutionary disgrace that “uses its elongated, spadelike snout to stir up the substrate and sediments” and gather up worms, leeches and larvae for dinner. Gross! The sturgeon has taste buds on its barbels, which are sensory organs that dangle near its gaping, rubbery, prehensile lips. Why taste buds are necessary for a fish that eats trash, I don’t know.
All this would be totally fucking intolerable for any creature, but the size, I SAY THE SIZE, of this fucker is what makes it the stuff of nautical nightmares. Even though the sturgeon eats lil’, low-calorie tidbits of trash all day, it manages to eat four gazillion calories in garbage so that it can grow to be seven feet long and 300 pounds. Holy fuck.
This fucker is just swimming along in the lake where folks are swimming and boating in dumb little kayaks that a wayward sturgeon could, I IMAGINE, just fucking capsize with a swish of its filthy tail and mouth udders. The lake sturgeon lives for, I don’t know, goddamn forever as part of its deal with Satan to reign over the Great Lakes. It can reach sexual maturity as late in its life as 23 years old. The lake sturgeon is a late bloomer and also probably has fucking gross, dirty fish sex that I’m not even going to think about now. According to the DEC, a sturgeon was caught in Canada in 1953 that 154 years old at the time. This fish that was caught during the Eisenhower administration began its fishy life in the administration of the first John Adams, whom no one cared for among the Founding Fathers. Still, Adams is better than a lake sturgeon!
The lake sturgeon nearly disappeared from this planet more than a century ago as fishermen zealously scooped them up and sold them to what I imagine were the self-styled Anthony Bourdains of the Edwardian era. Apparently, 5 MILLION pounds of sturgeon were fished from Lake Erie in a single year, which means that holy fucking shit there were, like, 2 million plus of these fuckers in Lake Erie. Erie’s a Great Lake, but it’s the smallest of them. How would you dip a toe in the lake without having the prehensile lips of the sturgeon rub up on them? Jesus!
Look at this asshole hugging his sturgeon like it’s a cocker spaniel.
I’m never sleeping again after that Google image search. Stuff of fucking fish nightmares.
*I have been unable to put fingertips to keyboard lately for fear that anything, everything I have to write is inane and inarticulate, and requires some sort of preface or justification for even taking up this humble, free space. Excuse me, I’m sorry, I’m not an expert or anything, and pardon me if you stumble upon this and feel as though you’ve wasted your time, even though you can leave at any time, it’s OK, just go, I’m not offended, but I wanted to share … What is that shit about? I don’t need to explain myself.
"When in attendance at the fine dining establishment of Moon Chinese Buffet, ninth grade honors students proved their intelligence and cultural awareness by playing with chopsticks for three-quarters of an hour and unabashedly digging into a large vat of onion rings before the lo mien and sweet and sour chicken."
- “What students really get from their quality honors education,” your humble blogger, public high school freshman, period 5
I said yes.