Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Stuff about the man that broke my car and gave me an ouchy

His name is Axel. That’s ironic.

His last name sounds like “scrotum”. That’s karma.

He tucks his pants into his socks and boots.

He drives a BMW that he ran through an intersection with and took out my ‘Bitch Wheels’.

His car looked way better than mine.

He’s insured – lucky. He will pay big premiums for years to come.

His blind spot is apparently much bigger than most of the human race.

He made me hit my head and now there’s a bump, a cut and a bruise.

I’m ok, but I don’t like him very much.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Criminal Acts Against: SUSHI

+



= WRONGTOWN


Recently I have moved work premises. It’s in the far
West of Melbourne. There’s not a lot out here. The closest shopping precinct is a little scary and in a totally woosey way I don’t really want to go there by myself again. EVER. For example, last time I was there, there was a man in a parachute material tracksuit hitting his head up against the pay phone. He was also muttering stuff. Creepy.

There is a shopping centre nearby, which is also scary, but mainly because there are many women/barely teenagers mothers with screaming kids. Not really my scene.

Anyway… every now and then I have to go to the supermarket for supplies for the lab. It may worry you to know that I have been to the food court there on occasion when my purchasing of goods is complete.

There is something that worries me immensely every time I visit this food court.

TWO OUT OF THE FOUR EATERIES SELL DEEP FRIED SUSHI!

Let me reiterate: DEEP FRIED SUSHI!

Does this strike everyone as incredibly wrong? One can only imagine how it came about.

“Hey Shaz, this sushi stuff looks healthy and not golden brown. It doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re right Merle. People won’t know what to do with it. Hang on! I’ve got and idea…”

I’ve tried to find pictures of it so you could all look upon it with contempt, alas there are none. I’m taking this as a positive as I hope this disease is confined to this one food court. Alternatively I was thinking of purchasing a FRIED SUSHI for myself to take a photo, but I couldn’t bring myself to commit that crime. You’ll just have to put your trust in me and believe that it does exist. Fear not! As I plan to stamp out this injustice, so the world can carry on unharmed by this heinous act!*




*I am totally not overreacting here

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Gourmet a'la Sugar


Remember how I used to post about food and ingredients and stuff? No? Me neither, it's been too long. So in an attempt to rectify this I present to you a post on "Stuff I've Cooked Lately That Will Totally Make You Drool".

To be honest with you I lost my cooking mojo a little while ago. But in the last 3/4 months I've been sifting through cook books, hunting for delectable ingredients and eating out at hot-spots around Melbourne town (whether I can afford to or not).

I will now share with you my journey's of FoodTown and hopefully if any of you are feeling low on cooking mojo you'll be inspired to invite your loved ones over for a tantilising journey for your tastebuds... or something something.


Stuff I've Cooked

Tom Yum Soup! Really all you need to do for this is go to you're local Little Veitnam find a grocer and go a little loco on all the wacky soup food there. You can get fish balls/cake, which is like a conglomeration of fish tasting stuff, with a rubbery texture... oh, c'mon, you love it. You can get fresh herbs out the wazoo. You should go, it's great. Oh, and while you're down there go to a bakery and get a grilled chicken/pork salad roll. Drool.

Spring Rolls! This sounds kinda impressive, but SO NOT. Once you're down with the rolling and the stuffing it's, like, so easy. All I do is make an Asian sauce, marinate chicken strips, roll, fry (mmm, fry). YUM!

Cheescake! See I can do more than Asian. This was for My Precious as a birthday cake. It's a baked cheesecake, BUT IT'S BAKED IN A WATER BATH! So it's silky as shit! I'm hoping there's still some around when I get home tonight, but I'm not holding my breath.

Steak and Porchini Mushroom Pie! I made this last night. So. Good. The porchini's hold their texture and taste delish, even after heavy cooking, so they were a good choice *pats back*. I'm totally over button mushrooms, btw. What is that? Foam? Not for me, thanks. I sloshed some red wine in the pie too, just because I can.


Ingredients I Dig This Week

Kaffir Lime Leaves

Sea salt

Fresh Chilli

Pumpkin

Rice

Who could say why? Just do.


Restaurants That I've Been To Of Late That Kick Arse

Claypots - mmm, fishy

Shoya - OK, so I'm going on Sunday, but I'm totally stoaked about it!

Pacific House - oh, you haven't heard of it? Well, it would be my advice to keep it that way... it's mine.

Taxi - so hip right now, but lacked a little love.


So? How 'bout it? Are you going to go home and cook up a storm? Go on. It'll make you happy and keep you warm on these chilly Melbournian nights. Plus if you cook for others, you don't have to do the dishes. It's the rule.

Wok on!

Friday, June 10, 2005

The Hoff

The other night over a delicious meal of katzudon that I lovingly prepared for my hot date and roomy, the conversation got around to just how heinous inter-office emails can be.

My hot roomy works for a large party supplier company, with around 200 employees. This means she is privy to many inter-office emails. Coming from a much smaller company I've got to admit, although I am annoyed by innane forwarded emails, I generally don't get that many. Perhaps, perhaps, I'd get one a day.

Hot Roomy shocked me by telling me she would probably, probably, receive one an hour. Having learnt that I would receive about an eigth of what she was receiving, she decided it only fair to make my life hell and forward them onto me. Bless.

The majority of her forwards at the moment tend to contain The Hoff. Yes, The (capital T) Hoff (capital H). You wouldn't think that a man of such limited acting ability could be stretched into so many email attachment genres! Somehow The Hoff finds a way, perhaps it's that manly chest. Mmmm... hairy.

To all of those that are dubious (and perhaps some of you that are just curious), here's what I've receive TODAY. Lord knows how many there are out there? Frankly, it freightens the shit out of me...


Ha ha ha! The squares say "Go to my room". Ha ha ha... Yes, Hoff.


Ha! Hoffy! That, totally rhymes with toffee! Clever.


Mmmm, The Hoff is totally up with the latest Hollywood hot-goss. How did he join the L.A.P.D. in time to arrest Russ, or is he just acting!? I can't tell! He's incredible.


Yes, well, way to combine two of the most annoying things ever. This one just makes me angry. The dumbfuck computer nerd that created this piece of sludge should have to listen to the stupid song/ringtone that he/she has infested our lives with. forevs.

If there is a message in this rant, it would be: if you ever send me any forwards that are not funny enough to make my neck muscle hurt from laughter, don't bother. If, for a lark, you think it'd be fun to flood my inbox with this junk, I totally know people that can fuck your shit up!

Thanks and Hoff on!

Love,
S & S

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Stuff about my family


This is not us.

- My mum is really smart. Like really smart. She started uni when she was 16. She is never wrong. She can do anything well and usually on the first go. This is admirable, if not a little annoying. She rings me up on her way home from work nearly every second day. This is sweet, because she usually has nothing to tell me and just wants to talk to me. I tell her pretty much everything.

- My dad is also really smart, but more in the street smarts way. He didn’t finish High School. He’s the CEO of a successful seafood company. He thinks he’s never wrong. He’s very strong, physically and mentally. We like to tell each other about food, wine and good restaurants. He washes his car every Sunday.

- For 8 years my parents didn’t live at the same place at the same time. They never broke up. They totally dig each other. They live in the same place now and go to the market on Saturday mornings and usually go and see St Kilda play every week.

- My second youngest sister has really big blue eyes that say more than what comes out of her mouth. She’s shy. When you get to know her, she’s almost the funniest person in the world. She has an IT diploma. She doesn’t like working with computers. She works at Priceline. She lives with her boyfriend, who is pretty much exactly the same as her. I never see them apart. They are in love. They are both great people.

- My youngest sister just got a job with Country Road as a visual merchandiser (it’s got to do with shop windows). She’s 20. She is the best shopper I know. I’m thinking about buying a pair of jeans and will call her if I decide to do that. She is also the best present buyer I know. She’s really pleasant and warm on the phone. She’s cheeky and knows how to ‘tick me off’. She ‘ticks me off’ all the time, for her own amusement. I’m cool with that. She has a big heart. She still lives at home.

- My sisters are pretty much best friends. They are close in age. I like them heaps. I think they’re really funny and they are both hot.

- We grew up in the country and used to spend our weekends watching TV around the heater or listening to cd’s. This time of year reminds me of mum cooking soup. Nowadays we all live in the city. We all live in connecting suburbs. We all like being together.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Left or Right?



“Hi, my name is Sugar and I can’t tell my left from my right.”

“Hi, Sugar.”


It’s an affliction I’ve lived with all my life.

It’s something that disappoints my mother.

It’s a flaw that my dearest is often befuddled over.

I don’t like to consider it an affliction/disappointment/flaw. I like to think of it more as a lovable quirk.

It’s not like I don’t know that ← is left and → is right (unless you’re reading this upside down), it’s just that I can’t work it out off the top of my head. And perhaps it’s less that I don’t know Mr Left and Mr Right and more that I pretty much stink at directions.

Let’s explore:

Maps

I don’t do maps.

I can read a map, if I study hard enough or if my life depended on it. But if we’re driving and you ask me to look up where we’re going in the Melways… well, we’ll we may end up on the Hume Hwy, instead of the Western Ring Road (this may or may not have happened to me last week and I may or may not have rung my dearest in tears demanding that he find me a way home).

I’ve got ways of coping with the no mapping thing. If I drive somewhere once, I can do again. This is because I’m very observant and pick out interesting land marks and intersections. So if we’re ever to meet me at the pub, just tell me it’s on a corner, across the road from the Westpac on High St and I’ll be there, for God’s sake NEVER give me a Melways reference.


Distance
If a crisis arose and I actually had to read a map, the other problem I’d face is the distance thing. I’m not actually down with how far away from me something is. For instance, if I look out my window now, I’d say the stair case is probably 75 meters away.

*gets up from desk*

*walks discreetly, although with large strides to stair well*

*is surprised*

… ok it’s actually about 27 meters. And that’s not even a big distance. Imagine me in a big metal machine with wheels, driving 106 km/h (I like to go fast). I’ve got no hope. This is another reason I rely on my landmarks.


Pointing

This “lovable quirk” is a little more obscure. I have the annoying/cheeky habit of making up where someone is pointing.

“Hey Sugar, look over there…”
*points north north east*

*sugar looks south south west*
“What? Where?”

I think it’s a stubborn thing. I think I know where the person really wants me to look and so I save them and me time by just looking where I think is best. You can see where the problem lies can’t you?

As an interesting side note my mother has always commented that I have a "lazy" pointer finger and that if I point something out, I actually hook it about 10 degrees, so perhaps I’m just overcompensating when another is the pointer.




If ever there is a lesson to be learnt here, it be this: just take me where I want to go, just don’t ask me how to get there.