I have this weird space in my bedroom between the door to my outdoor balcony and a column that I have been meaning to fill with something – originally I had two hanging plants there, but since I have a fundamental lack of motherliness, they both died within a week and have been sitting against the wall, dried up and dead for over a year, like plant-skeletons mocking my matronly ineptitude.
I thought that the space was perfect for a large-sized, uber-hipstery dream catcher, and since I refuse to pay money for anything that I can reasonably make myself, I set some time aside to throw one together this weekend.
It’s surprisingly easy – I looked at the quick figure below for about 30 seconds then got to bisznas.
The first thing you need is a big ring. I wanted a really big dream catcher and it’s actually pretty hard to find purpose-made “dream catcher rings” in large sizes, so I improvised and used a big embroidery hoop. In retrospect, it’s a little too flat along the edge, but I don’t f-ing care that much. What am I, the Queen of England? Pffffffft.
Then you wrap the ring in leather or “faux ultra suede” like me. IMPORTANT NOTE: you need much more leather than you think you do. Much more. Err on the side of caution and buy A LOT.
This part of the dream catcher is the most annoying and boring, so it helps if you’re drunk. I recommend a big, frosty craft beer. It helps the “faux-ultra-suede” wrapping part go by quicker.
Alright, wrap the whole hoop then tie the ends tightly. You can see in the photo below that I have TWO ends on each side of the hoop. That’s because I underestimated how much leather I needed, used it all and only got half-way, then had to go back to the store and buy more to finish the other half. If you are a normal person, you will only have one end.
Anyways, as per the figure up at the top, you basically just wind the center thread in a repetitive pattern around the hoop over and over. Some tips:
- It’s really hard to get all of your first level of loops evenly distributed. I recommend wrapping them all, then going back and sliding and adjusting them afterwards while keeping the loose end tight;
- Keep your one hand continuously on the end of the string while looping it through the holes with your other hand… and use a consistent motion (i.e. over-under; over-under…. not over-under; under-over… that will suck);
- Similarly, you can continuously adjust your loops by tightening and loosening the end of the string with your other hand as you continue to add more levels.
At some point, you have to string a bead into the dream catcher… that is the “spider” apparently. Whatever.
I chose a white bead. Make sure you like the colour of bead, because you can’t pull that sucker out without undoing the whole thing. I’m not sure I like my colour of bead. Which sucks.
Anyways, once you are happy with all of your web, tie that sucker off and leave a bit hanging – you’re going to tie a feather to it, don’t worry.
Then you just, like, tie a bunch of shit off the end of the dream catcher to make it look all boho-y and junk. I tied some leftover “faux-ultra-suede”, some embroidery thread, and twine and other garbage. I might go back and put some better stuff on later. Who knows.
After you’ve tied all your junk on the end, you should put some beads and feathers and stuff like that on it. It makes it even more ultra-boho-hisptery.
BLAM! Dream catcher all up in yo’ face:
As previously mentioned, I was travelling for work last week and had the opportunity to spend a day on my own in Santa Fe, lovin’ life and other things of that nature. Having a single day to go through an entire place… especially one that was so full of STUFF to do, was understandably daunting, so I just put my little head down and conquered things one at a time.
First – the New Mexico countryside is F-ING beautiful… like, with cacti and tumbleweeds and like, spiders dragging old pieces of junk across sand to build their spider-nests. Exactly how you pictured it. THAT’S HOW IT IS.
I decided to start the day with a hike around the countryside with a guide who was really knowledgeable and allowed me to take multiple pictures that slowed down the rest of the group. Bad for them, GOOD FOR YOU! So many arty pictures of tumbleweeds and shit.
This is an old tree that couldn’t survive the drought one year. Negatives: it’s dead. Positives: It provides a dramatic frame for my “taking a picture of the landscape with a dramatic frame” goals.
Below is a pear-cactus, which are all over the place. They really hurt if you, say, trip while trying to take a picture, then submerge your knee bone into them. Hypothetically.
Also, apparently they are tasty if you take all the pricklers off then slice them up into a delicious salad. I never did this. It’s just the rumour around town.
Here is another cactus. Dramatic frame for my picture? SUCCESS!
This is a Yucca plant. The Yucca flower is the state flower of New Mexico – WHAAAT learnin’ things! Apparently the native tribes in New Mexico used to/still use the little stringer things on the side of the Yucca plant to like, repair their clothing and sew their moccasins and other things of a “string-requiring” nature. I tried to pull one out but it didn’t work.
So. Seriously. It’s pretty beautiful down there. The landscape just folds out in front of you with hill after hill of browns that melt into each other… then the horizon undulates in rolling swells that become more and more transparent until you aren’t sure where one stops and the other begins. POETRY SLAM WHAT!
TREE FRAME, WHAT!
ROCK FRAME, WHAT!
After about 90 minutes walking around in the New Mexico desert/drylands/whatever-they-are-called, I decided to cross “Nature-Stuff” off my list and mosey on over into town.
Being a big ol’ fatty, the first thing I needed to do was eat something. Some people really hate travelling on their own because they have to sit in restaurants by themselves and eat without talking to anyone. Me? I LOVE going to restaurants by myself and eating what I want when I want without people bothering me while I stuff my face. Paradise.
There are quite a few restaurant options in Santa Fe, but I heard about one over and over called “The Shed” that has been around for a really long time and apparently is packed all day long with people wanting to get a table, so I tried it out.
First, their patio is adorable. Small enough to feel intimate, but roomy enough not to feel stifling. and full of bright umbrellas and stuff that makes you feel all happy and shit.
Wheat beer in the foreground, happy family in the background… how much more idyllic can you get?
I started with the Corn Chowder, which was AMAZING. Really, I gobbled that shizz down in about 3 minutes.
For my main I didn’t want to go too ‘outside of the box’, because I had heard that “New Mexican-Mexican” food was really spicy and different than most Mexican food, and I didn’t want to walk around with a “tummy ache” (read: the runs) all day long, so I went with “Light Huevos Rancheros”.
Now, I’m not saying it was spicy, but IT WAS DAMN SPICY. They put this “red chili sauce” and “green chili sauce” on it and it basically tastes like you are swallowing fire. HOWEVER… it was definitely yummy.
Speaking of New Mexican foods… there is this thing called “Frito Pie” in Santa Fe that everyone was talking about.
Turns out Frito Pie is smashed-up Fritos with Chili poured over top. At the Five and Dime (above), they literally open up a bag of Fritos, smash ’em up a little bit in the bag, then pour Chili INTO the Frito bag, then you walk out with a spoon and a Frito bag full of Chili.
Best idea ever or source of long-term diarrhea? Both, I’m thinking. I never had the privilege of trying Frito Pie as I was full of my Huevos. BIGGEST REGRET EVER.
In the afternoon I headed to Coyote Rooftop Cantina for some chips and beer. The atmosphere was OK, but it was really hot and they were playing an awful radio statio… like Gin Blossoms styles. Not in an ironic “remember when you were in high school and the Gin Blossoms were cool” – kind of way, in a like, “this is some cool new music – it’s called the Gin Blossoms” – kind of way.
The town is quite pretty and magical and again, exactly what you would expect when you think of New Mexico – short, clay-like buildings and bright colours and stuff that makes you happy:
Ok, so I checked “Nature stuff”, and “Eat a whole lot of spicy chili” off my list, and I decided that I wanted to spend some time getting all cultured, so I decided to stop by the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum.
So, I KNOW that everyone thinks of vaginas and vagina-related flowers when they think of Georgia O’Keeffe, but in reality, her vagina-related-flower repertoire is only a VERY SMALL part of her art and it really overshadows a lot of how TRULY AMAZING she is.
I went to the museum knowing little to nothing about her, which was a great thing, because I really learned a lot and came out with an amazing amount of respect for her.
Turns out she is BAD-ASS and a wicked-cool smart and strong lady and like, walks around with skulls and shit.
Her artwork does have a sexual undercurrent, which is amazing and powerful. What strong woman didn’t have struggles with gender roles and sexuality in the mid-20th century when women’s rights were in the forefront both socially and politically? Cue the vagina-flowers.
Her photographer husband, Alfred Stieglitz, took numerous, sexually suggestive pictures of her when she was young and starting out, and that image of her as a sexual being constantly overshadowed her work. People searched for sexual meaning instead of just looking at the art.
Later in life, she decided to take control of her image and invited photographers to her New Mexico home (“Ghost Ranch” – what? coolest), and her BAD-ASSERY was shown in full effect.
A lot of her artwork was focused on New Mexico and the area surrounding Santa Fe.
Being as hipstery as possible, I bought a print of the skull/flower piece below, along with another skull piece. Skulls, skulls everywhere. That’s how you know you’re cool.
As you can tell, I haven’t said “peep” about my shopping and vintage item scouring, which is very detailed and lengthy, so I’ve decided to isolate that information into a separate, SHOPPING ONLY Santa Fe post, which I’ll put up like, within the next day.
Spoiler: I bought a lot of turquoise.
Since I had a long and luxurious six days to spend in Prague, I wanted to take some more time out from the “tourists-in-Crocs” scene that was the city center and find some cool day trips and explore the countryside.
First trip was Bone Church and Kutna Hora, which was OK, but it took a little too long to get there and back, and there were just as many ‘tourists in Crocs’ over there, and there was that married couple in front of me eating crunchy chips with greasy fingers the whole way over there as per my in-depth description which sucked.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have very high hopes for my second day trip to Konopište Castle. It didn’t have nearly as many recommendations in my city guide as Bone Church did, and when I asked my concierge about it (because I’m fancy and I have a concierge that I ask things to), she was like “Yeaaaaah, I *guess* you could go there.” …which didn’t exactly blow my skirt up with anticipation.
There were two main reasons I wanted to check out Konopište:
- It was Franz Ferdinand‘s (the Archduke, not the band… i.e. the person the band named themselves after…) castle. That dude who basically started World War I when he was assassinated… that stuff interests me; and
- Apparently Franz was *obsessed* with game hunting and has hunting “trophies” (read: horrible remnants of unnecessarily killed animals) all over his house. This seemed too nuts to believe and I wanted to see it.
So you take the train to Konopište, which is actually a really pretty drive through mountains and countryside. The train stop is at the foot of a beautiful park land, and the castle is basically at the top of the park land. My concierge tried to convince me that I needed a car to drive up to the Castle, but I was all like, “No, I’m bad-ass”, so I walked.
You totally don’t need a car. You can walk. Unless you are like, an elderly person or on crutches. You can walk.
I mean, look how pretty this shit is? Why would you want to get in a stinky car when you can walk in this paradise?
October is “off” season, and it was dead, and there was only one available tour. BUT that was actually awesome… because the T.C.Q. (Tourists in Crocs Quotient) was extremely low. There were four people on my tour including me, and no gross crunchy chip-eaters.
So… you are not allowed to take pictures inside the house. Which SUCKS. I snuck three – the one at the beginning of the post of the huge antler hallway and the two below before my tour guide got mad at me and swore at me in Czech.
Yes – that Mary figure is surrounded by goat horns from kills. And that entry-way? Again, more goat horns… and those fan-things around the top near the lights? Pheasant tails.
The house was C-O-V-E-R-E-D with dead animal trophies. I can’t express to you how covered it was.
You would go into one room, and it would be, like “The Mountain Goat Room”, and there would be 200 – 300 Mountain Goat antler sets on the walls – they would be from FLOOR TO CEILING.
And then there would be a huge eagle that had been stuffed and turned into a chandelier.
And then there would be three tiger-skin rugs.
And then there would be like, a stuffed wild baby elephant in the corner.
IT WAS INSANE.
At first you’re all like…”Dude, these things can’t be real.” But then you look at them all and they are real.
And then you’re like… “Dude, there is no way that he killed all these animals. Impossible. He bought them or some shit”.
But then you look at the mountings and EVERY SINGLE set of antlers has a location and date of when he killed the animal. And apparently there are COPIOUS records to prove that it was him that killed them.
Apparently, over the course of his life, he killed just over 300,000 animals on record.
Let’s just pause here. Being a mega-nerd, I decided to try and calculate this into “kills per day”. Let’s assume that he started recording his kills at the tender age of 15 (which is even kind of young, I think, but still…).
Let’s not forget that he was killed early and died at the age of 50. So that gives him 35 years of killin’ time.
300 000 kills / 35 years = 8571.4 kills per year
8571.4 kills / 365 days = 23.48 KILLS PER DAY
THIS MAN KILLED 23.5 ANIMALS A DAY EVERY DAY FOR HIS ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE. F’ed up.
Anyways, aside from the fucked up animal trophies, the tour was actually really, super interesting.
Since his assassination was unexpected and the family basically left the castle almost as soon as the assassination happened, they managed to keep things almost exactly as they had been in 1914 when he died. There were notes and diaries and journals on the desks, and his children has drawn pictures that were up on the wall… it was really interesting.
Also, he was really “modern” and ahead of his time – the house was one of the first that had plumbing and flushing toilets and even an elevator.
They also had the bullet that killed his wife on display as well as her repaired (yet still faintly blood-stained) dress.
Seriously, it was fucking cool. I have no idea why a bazillion people would go to Bone Church and not to this place.
Anyways, we walked around the grounds for a bit, then back on the train for the return to Prague.
Incidentally, there was this guy in our train car who came in with a giant woven basket full of CRAZY F-ING mushrooms that were the size of your fist and like pink and red and brown like in a wicked-cool fairy tale. He said that he went out and picked them in the park grounds and was going to take them home and eat them like a bad-ass. I wanted to take a picture so bad but maybe it’s normal to walk around with a giant basket of freaky mushrooms in Prague and I didn’t want to offend the mushroom-carrier guy. Just thought I would tell you because it was COOL.
So we get back to Prague and there was a balloon floating over the Charles Bridge out of nowhere like we were in oldy-time days. NO BIG DEAL:
Truly, the best part of Prague is the magical things you come across when you aren’t expecting them:
Tra-la-la-la. Anyways, later that night I had a delicious dinner of truffled crepe in a soup:
Then off to the PUPPET OPERA.
Yes I said PUPPET OPERA.
They show Don Giovanni every night at this Puppet Opera show and I almost plottzed my pants when I found out, so we went. I haven’t seen a puppet show in like 20 years so I was really excited.
Then I realized that they were selling tall boys of Czech beer for the equivalent of $1.50 Canadian, and then I was REALLY EXCITED:
Although the puppets were funny, we only stayed for two acts because Don Giovanni is the longest opera of all time apparently and the puppet theater wasn’t ventilated and all the kids smelled like farts and I felt like I was going to pass out from heat. So we went for…
PALAČINKA. OF COURSE.
I went with apricot jam this kind. IT IS BY FAR THE BEST ONE. Just so you know.
Tomorrow I go to the *actual* opera like a fancy person and I decide to come back to Canada for some reason. Le sigh.
I often feel constricted just doing “normal” touristy things, mostly due to being an extra-cool person, so I had been on the hunt to find a “weird” touristy thing to do while staying in Prague and my research uncovered the coolest thing ever. BONE CHURCH.
Essentially, there is a small chapel in a town called Sedlec where there were like 80,000 deaths during the plague and they didn’t know what to do with all the bodies. So they hired this local wood carver to help them “put the bones in order”… and he decided to basically make like, femur chandeliers and skull garland and stuff to decorate the inside of the small chapel.
Whaaaaa? Bone church is the coolest.
So, if you decide to go, prepare yourself – they said it was going to take ‘about an hour’ to get to Bone Church but I’m pretty sure once everyone got settled and they started pushing through the morning traffic and then swerving through the countryside it took closer to 2 hours. Also, the people sitting in the seats in front of me brought like a huge sleeping-bag-sized backpack with them that was FILLED with chips and candy and chocolate and they were CONSTANTLY eating something and it was so quiet in the bus that all you could hear was them grossly crunching on potato chips for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT and the bags were all crinkley and noisey and I wanted to punch them.
Anyways, the church is really really really small and everyone in the entire world goes there apparently, so there were at least two hundred people in this church the size of a small convenience and they were all taking pictures so it wasn’t as like ‘cool-and-creepy-like-in-a-Rob-Zombie-movie’ as you think it’s going to be, because there’s like a big fat man with his belly hanging out giving the thumbs up in front of the femur chandelier. Took some of the wonder out of the whole experience.
There were a couple of cool things on display, like this cool group of skeletons that they exhumed while building the chapel with like big cracks and holes in their skulls and you could see that they died in like a wicked-cool medieval axe-fight or something.
Anyhoo, I was SO excited to see bone church but it didn’t really meet my expectations, only because there were SO many touristy people there who ruin the coolness factor.
So part of the ‘excursion’ that we booked included a trip to Kutna Hora, which is a nearby town that used to be home to a silver mine or processing plant or something. They have a fucking GIGANTIC cathedral there that is mind-blowing, and is totally out of place in this small little town. I think because they had so much silver there they were considered like, a rich town so they got a big-ass cathedral to prove it to everyone.
Hi, whatever, giant magical cathedral in the middle of a small town just sitting there bein’ all wizardy.
YEAH NO BIG DEAL. Just a big ol cathedral-castle with purple clouds all around it and like vineyards in front and a little magical village below.
Here is another one of the seventy shots I took of magical kingdom-land:
….aaannnnnd one that I instagrammed to look even more Harry Potter-y.
Seriously, it was worth the trip to Bone Church just to get this picture.
As per my earlier post, if you want to get arty photos on Charles Bridge, you cannot do it between 8:00 am and 7:00 pm. You need to get your fat ass (i.e. my fat ass) out of bed at like 6:45 am, throw on sweatpants then run to the bridge before people start setting up their rickety tables to sell fucking ugly magnets and saxophone buskers start playing Careless Whisper.
I did this.
So that you could have the visceral JOY of seeing my BONE-MELTING photography skills.
Try to contain yourself. I’m embarrassed for you.
Lots more to come.
I’m not going to go into tons of detail here for two reasons:
- I am still really super busy at work, and if you want me to go into tons of detail, you’re going to have to wait until I have more time, which will be a while, so DO YOU WANT TO WAIT OR DO YOU WANT TO JUST GET TO THE MONEY?
- The pictures are pretty enough to carry the weight of this post.
Arrived just in time for a glass of Bohemian Sparkling Wine (or Sekt) at Kavarna Slavia, which used to be an artsy-fartsy bohemian literary place where people thought big thoughts about big things. Sekt is essentially shitty sparkling wine. I was actually really excited to get a glass of Absinthe Sekt (which is exactly what it sounds like…), but go fucking figure, the only time I’m in Prague there is frigging balls vagina PROHIBITION in place because some stupid idiot accidentally laced their fucking bootleg booze with methanol and 19 people died, so all of the damn Absinthe was prohibited until they got that shit under control. After I left. Of course.
To make myself feel better I got a giant coconut sundae.
First morning the goal was to find a good, real, strong, delicious espresso. And I found one. It was delicious. And the sugar wasn’t granulated sugar, it was delicious SUGAR PASTE that you stir into your coffee. Everything in Europe is in delicious paste form.
I’m not sure if I told you about this (if not, I’m sure you can tell by my thigh jiggles), but I am obsessed with croissants. The croissant pictured below was awesome, so I decided to have one every day for the rest of my trip.
The main square in Prague is really beautiful – there’s, you know, just some random big freaky Bohemian church just abutted to some random houses, and when I ask people – “WOW, what is the deal with that church?” Everyone is all like “Meh, it’s just some church.” If that church were in Canada, the Prime Minister would spooge gold all over it everyday and announce it Canada’s prize jewel and we would have a “National Freaky Church Day” holiday every year.
It was a bit drizzly when I was walking around taking pictures, but I was not upset about it at all – it kept the AVALANCHE of tourists at bay, and I thought the colourful umbrellas made my pictures significantly more arty.
This clock is an astronomical clock that makes a whole bunch of whistles and dingies and diddles and whoo-has every hour on the hour. However, the REAL spectacle is watching the huge, overwhelming crowd of tourists fight each other to take the exact same picture of the clock over and over again while trying to push each other out of the way. It’s heartwarming.
I lucked out here because it was like, 8:00 am and raining.
Pictures of things:
There is a story about the statue below that some chick stuck her head in the empty head-hole and she got stuck and no one could pull her head out and they had to call the fire department and when they finally pried her head out of the head hole she had AGED INTO AN OLD WOMAN.
This is one of the Opera Houses. Yes. One of them. I went to it later to watch the opera. I’ll tell you about that later.
A quick walk across Charles Bridge to take some pictures…
Theeeeen a walk up a million stairs to visit Prague Castle. It’s a Castle in Prague.
The Castle is really a giant network of buildings that takes about 7 hours to visit. In case you were scheduling your time. Which I didn’t.
Below is the cathedral. Pretty mind-blowing.
Arty rain photo, comin’ up:
Here is me in an old mirror. Also some torture devices that they used on prisoners.
Hey, just a friendly tip – if you’re planning on visiting Europe, you better f-ing LOVE looking at churches over and over and over and over. And over. And over. Here is more church-related photography:
Hee hee hee little church boys.
The castle is up on a hill, giving you multiple arty views of the city.
Anyway, after spending hours at Prague Castle, I went to a market. They had sex dice.
Dice that you throw and then it tells you how to do it. I was going to buy some but then I didn’t due to my cowardly nature. I was also going to take a picture but I didn’t because I didn’t want to offend the sex dice vendor because, like, maybe it’s a normal and not a hilarious thing to have sex dice in Prague, and you know, I want to be respectful of other countries’ sex practices. So I took a picture of some people standing around:
They also had freaky marionettes. They had sex dice and freaky marionettes.
I have many other stories to regale you with. Some sex dice related, some not. Most not.
I went to a cottage last weekend. Jealous? I thought so. It just so happens that I have super affluent friends (read: friends who can use their grandmas’ cottages) who whisk me off to cottages for the weekend where I live like a Russian Czar (read: fat chick in a bathing suit eating jelly beans) for three days.
The big difference this weekend was I decided to bring Molly, who is, to be perfectly honest, a fucking city dog who is pampered and would never be able to survive for five minutes in the wilderness, because she would probably, like, trot up to a porcupine and lie on her back all playful-like, then get porcupine needles shot into her abdomen-slash-private parts. So I was a *little* worried that she was going to be a handful.
Did I mention she loves riding in the car while sitting on my lap? What a spoiled bitch.
Day one, we got up early and went fishing. I’ve never been fishing before, and I really sucked shit. I had to use the old-fashioned casts where you hold onto the line with your finger when you throw the cast-y thing, because the ones with the button on the bottom of the cast were too advanced and complicated for my piddly brain.
I also caught nothing in case you were wondering. Well, one time I felt a little bite, and one time I caught an old stick, or “wood bass” as I understand they are called.
However, I really enjoyed being out on the lake in the early morning. Like I was a sneaky nature-person, instead of a totally un-nature person like I am for real.
I told these guys they had to do a Titanic shot because they would look stupid and it would make me laugh. They happily obliged.
Here is one of the places we fished. Just want to reiterate here that I did not catch any fish.
This gentleman caught “the planet Earth” by catching his hook on a bunch of rocks or some shit… not once…
…but three times. I guess you have to be a really good fisherman to do that.
Some people did catch some fish that we threw back because we are nice people.
Ok fuck that shit. Let’s go swimming.
Perfect perfect perfect weather and perfect perfect perfect water.
Tough fuckin’ life.
Then we played cards. How fucking cool is this packaging? I want to bone it.
This game is called “Pit”, and you basically sit around each other and scream in each others’ faces for 20 minutes until someone who screams the loudest wins.
Speaking of design, the cards are also totally awesome and bone-worthy, as well.
In addition to Molly the Adventure Dog, we had a little golden retriever puppy with us, Cece. She was damn ass balls cute.
As long as Molly was allowed to take Cece’s toys, the two of them got along just fine.
Anyways, after some fishing and swimming and screaming in each others’ faces, it was time to drink our faces off and eat our… faces off. Usually when I go up to the cottage with my friends we have a very strict “meal-making” and “drink-making” protocol. Everyone gets into pairs and makes one “fancy drink” for everyone, spaced out throughout the weekend, and everyone in those pairs is also tasked with making one meal.
Although this sounds like an air-tight plan, it usually culminates into a ridiculous competition where everyone tries to make their drink as BOOZY as possible in an effort to totally DESTROY everyone at the cottage.
This was the “Tequila Sangria”, and I’m pretty sure there’s a whole bottle of Patron in there. BALLIN’ LARGE WHAT.
Similarly, the meal-cooking turns into this ridiculous competition where people try to out-do each other in an over-the-top, several-hour-long process of gourmet-meal preparation. For example:
OH NO BIG DEAL:
These guys starting preparing their marinades and “rubs” at 11:00 am. ELEVEN A.M. IN THE MORNING. They made:
- Pork tenderloin with some delicious rub stuff on the outside – SO TENDER
- Chicken thighs with like rosemary and delicious sauce of some sort – ALSO VERY TENDER
- Flank steak with pepper and chimmi-churri sauce – THE MOST TENDER OF ALL
- Basmati rice
- Grilled rainbow vegetables
Like, serious ballin’. VERY DELICIOUS. Although it made my “eggs on a microwaved tortilla” meal from that morning seem somewhat lacking.
Anyways, then we put on some fireworks that I’ll show you tomorrow. To tide you over, here are some ARTY PICTURES!
Also, here are some freak-moths.