Fucking People Make It Complicated

The first question I fucking have is why do fucking people make it complicated? It’s easy to not fuck up the food you cook, it’s easy as hell if you just pay fucking attention. Y’all know I spend a great deal of time reading other people’s blogs. Y’all know I usually don’t fucking comment because people have said I drop too many fucking f-bombs. Probably some truth in there some where I’m sure. I visit a few handfuls of what I will call cooking lifestyle blogs, they range from gourmet to trashcan grilling and most things in between. I noticed a fucking trend I really don’t fucking like, across the board, but I saved my bitching and moaning for my own fucking blog because, well, that’s how I fucking am. If y’all have taken the time to read my last post you’ll see I demonstrated the right way to pan sear a fucking steak, but it goes deeper than that, much much deeper. I had read a few posts about doing a fucking gourmet pan seared steak. I must ask, what in the fuck are you people trying to do to me? Putting all this bullshit on your meat and you’ll never fucking taste the meat, just your bullshit. So, I got to thinking, eventhough I can be considered nothing more than an average cook who learned to cook by standing next to real humans, I still know that one needs practice. Food is judged by it’s fucking taste morons, even if it looks like a pile of shit, if it tastes good I’m going to eat it. But it seems like everyone is in some kind of fucking cooking competition, got to Tweet that shit, got to Pin that shit, and even Share that shit. Looks can be very deceiving, anyone can polish a turd for a fucking picture, but will you eat it?

Okay, I’ll agree there are many fantastic cooks out in the world, and your food is making people fat and happy. But, who are these motherfuckers who watch the cable food channels and surf the internet who all of a sudden are culinary experts? Y’all know who I’m talking about, we all have them in our families and lives, hell I’m probably pissing one of them off right now. With two big cooking holidays coming up fast we all know there are those people’s food we won’t fucking touch because it fucking sucks. Why? Because they can’t cook that’s why! Oh, but they try, right? Wrong! Copying something from Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook, or wherever the fuck else does NOT make you a fucking cook, really it doesn’t. But does this stop them from posting on their blogs? No. Does this stop them from inflicting their unimaginable culinary disasters on friends and family? No. If you can’t cook just own the shit out of that, you can never fake fucking steak, never.

So, what am I doing here? I’m trying to tug at your heart strings in hopes that one day soon we will be rid of the wannabe cooks. I pride myself self on the fact that I cook what I know how to cook, I grill in a way that food is edible, and I smoke meats in ways that will make you want to dry hump my leg with excitement. However, I’m a down home simple ingredients kind of cook. I do NOT bury the flavor of what I’m cooking in other bullshit, I’m simple in my methods. I have taught an ex-wife to cook, my wife to cook (in different ways, she’s a bad ass cook already), and all three of my kids to cook. Why? Because if we’re going to eat we might as well fucking enjoy the way it tastes. Right or wrong? But, my soon to be married 19 year old daughter has been exploring the cooking shows and scouring the internet for recipes to try. She can’t figure out why she doesn’t like the way the food tastes. My answer? You need to fucking practice, practice allot, make changes, own that shit until you can do it blindfolded, without the recipe card, and where it comes out delicious every single time. Me, I don’t have any recipes written down anywhere, but I do try to accurately share proportions when prompted, but I doubt it’s ever exact. An example, search my blog for details, I make what I call Diablo Scorpion Chili on a regular basis because my wife, her friends at work, and family can’t ever get enough of this high heat colon cleansing chili. It has been made the same way since I dreamed that shit up some 25 years ago to enter into a chili cook off. Not to brag, but best in heat, best in flavor, and best appearance tells me it might be good, don’t change a fucking thing.

But I do more, I even share with pictures here on occasion, people actually write to me thanking me because it all tasted as described. Why? Because I don’t do all the bullshit, basic is the best flavoring. Anyway, my question still remains, why do people try to “fake it” on the internet? People try their recipes I’m sure, as I have, and most times I’m not impressed. I’m no expert when it comes to cooking, but I don’t get complaints either. My fucking wish I have for people learning to cook or wanting to learn something new is to spend time with other humans, whether it is family or friends, and be shown in person how to make a recipe work. Let’s face it, if it looks pretty but tastes like shit then you have failed. My family knows I don’t mind eating the ugly mistakes if they taste great. Our daily food consumption should be eating simple meals, inexpensive meals, and meals we want to eat. I like to try new things too, but some science experiments are best left to the experts and that for fucking sure is not me. So the next time you get a wild hair up your ass, try making something new, posting it online, just make sure it fucking tastes awesome. If not, its pretty hard to fuck up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, just keep that in mind. I hope we all learned something today, if so there is hope for us humans, if not we’re all fucking doomed.

My Children & The Blogging World

All three of my children have been pressing me to help them each get a blog off the ground. I keep blowing them off jokingly because I really think they are asking the wrong person about how to make a blog. Since I consider my own writing to be an illustration of my thoughts, concerns, and opinions before I think of it as a blog, I find it hard giving advice. My children changed their tactics, they all three got together to hit me all at once, and to put me in the hot seat. I don’t like to be in the hot seat and I really am not a good teacher. Before we begin, let me just make it clear that the purpose of this particular post is for my children, because after we talked I decided I needed to write out what I had said for future reference of my own personal guidelines. If, someone else, anyone else, follows the guidelines y’all are absolutely on your own. The mere fact that I will write any of this down is coincidental and should not be taken as your guidelines or rules for your internet blogging experience. However, if you find some of it to be helpful then that is great as well. So, before I begin I will give introduction to my children, referenced by age, gender, and initials. My son, JB, 12 y/o. My daughter, CD, 17 y/o. My daughter, LW, 23 y/o. Each of them a different identity with different ideas but all three share one common denominator, me.

The very first thing, and to me, the most important thing to remember is that anything and everything you post to the internet is going to be able to be viewed by anyone in the world. Can you tell we have had a similar conversation about Facebook, Pinterest, and Instagram? I remind them that if they are not willing to share it with the world then it does not belong on the internet and that is a choice they must live with every single time they click the “publish” button. I also explained the whole “blogosphere” thing to them. We looked at what makes up the blogosphere and what makes it such a desirable place to be. I borrow the definition of blogosphere from the Wikipedia definition. “Blogosphere: The blogosphere is made up of all blogs and their interconnections. The term implies that blogs exist together as a connected community (or as a collection of connected communities) or as a social network in which everyday authors can publish their opinions“. It may not be the best definition, but it is the simplist to understand. Because, in the end, the interconnection of all the blogs is what defines the different communities that have evolved over the years.

I try to follow these simple steps and rules because over time they are what helps me personally. I reminded them that it isn’t just about writing their blog, it is about interacting with readers, as well as going out exploring other blogs they might have an interest in. I have also recommended they use the WordPress format because it is super simple to use.

• The number one thing you need is subject material to write about on your blog. One cannot always pick a subject that people might be searching for, but their is always an endless list of things to write about. If you blog about something specific then you need to stick to the subject. If you have an open ended blog the sky is the limit. Give value, no matter how small and somebody out there will appreciate the post and you will begin to get yourself a following. Remember that as long as you know more than somebody else you have something to offer.
• Writing a blog post needs to come from you. It can be as original as you are and still be about something you read, saw, or did. The key with every post is writing is writing something that sounds like YOU. Write your content in your words, put your own personality into it, state your views, sound different then the rest of the crowd, and then it will stand out more.
• Now you need to bring all of the elements of your post together. Writing a blog post consists of sticking with a set layout that will work on most if not all of your posts. Put keywords in the title, then again in each paragraph, sum it all up with the last paragraph so your reader doesn’t feel left hanging, and add in more of your keywords. Be sure to add tags to your post which refer to the keywords so relevant searches can happen. There should be searchable keywords throughout your post.
• You must continue to ask yourself if everything makes sense, is there too much information or not enough, and fine tune it so your keywords are placed in logical places so they don’t look like they were placed randomly. If what you are writing does not make sense then the reader will quickly move on and probably dismiss any future posts because they feel their time is being wasted.
• Proof reading is both the blessing and the curse of anything that is written. But, those who are just starting out need to look for the misspelled words, the missing words, and the sentences that just don’t make any sense for some reason. This is a hard one for me because I write as if I were speaking and I generally do not proof read until after it is published or after a grammar Nazi gets ahold of me.
• For the most part it is always important to consider who your audience actually is. Do you know who your audience is? Do you care who your audience is? I’m a firm believer in writing for yourself and not for the purpose of pleasing others. If people want to read what you write then they will and if not then they generally move on. Don’t let this fact determine how you write or what you write about because then your message will get blurred and eventually lost.
• Be sure you pick your battles when deciding what to write about. As much as you may want to, you can’t enlighten everyone on the internet because not every single person is actually interested in what you have to say. This is a hard pill that everyone of us has to swallow. Realize this simple factoid and you will be able to hold on to your sanity.
• Always remember that there are other people on the other side of your computer screen. These people may not share your opinions and they may not appreciate what you have to say. Not everyone is liked by everyone. Many people hide behind their internet identity and write things that they wouldn’t say or do in real life. These people will try to bring you down to their level, so just try to remember that just because you have an opinion doesn’t mean that you are always right.
• Try to write as if you were speaking to someone sitting next to you. It will change how and what you write. Remember that once you hit publish it is going to be available to millions of people. As an example, my family reads my blog on occasion and eventhough they don’t care for my blog sometimes they don’t give me allot of grief. They know the real me and know that the on-line me are the same person. I am who I am no matter where I am. Does this work for everyone? I couldn’t tell you but I know it works for me.
• When in doubt, don’t publish it. I have written many posts that have never been published and probably never will be. They are reminders to me that my opinion is sometimes best left unwritten and unseen. Remember that over time you will gain followers as well as haters, both should be embraced knowing that people are indeed reading what you wrote.
• Finally, nobody will find you by accident. You need to promote yourself through the different social networking platforms that are out there. Share what you write and you will receive feedback and comments. I’m sure there are many more fine social networks out there. I personally use Blogcatalog, Google+, and Facebook. While on the topic of “communities” I would like to mention Blogcatalog since I have been a member there for many years. Blogcatalog is full of many great people sporting great personalies and blogs as well. Blogcatalog is a place to discuss anything from A – Z and everything in between. It has been a great place for support, growing friendships, and also gives my me ideas and inspiration for different topics I might right about.

I remind y’all that I’m writing this for my children, all who read my blog, all who know who I am as a father, an individual, as well as a person who has been around the world a few times while taking the time to observe and learn something new. Are there things I wish they wouldn’t read? Sure, but I don’t tend to hide things from people. My wife would like me to quit writing my blog altogether. She has her reasons. She also “allows” me to continue because she knows I enjoy doing it and that is what this all about, enjoy what you are doing. She is happy I keep names out of my blog and when she reads it she knows most of the time who I am talking about. My writing style isn’t for everyone but it is what works for me. Soon enough my children will have their individual blogs up, running, and operational. When they do one can be assured that I will be promoting them here and through the normal ritualistic channels that I normally use. For now, this post is over, y’all will be reading more about their blogs in the near future. In fact, my son will be providing the next guest post for me. It will be an unedited “page” from his journal to see if he likes seeing his thoughts out there for everyone to see.

Maybe y’all gained something from all of this nonsense and if you did, maybe, just maybe, it might be a step closer for everyone to help figure out why I try to write here everyday. Doing posts like this one is allot like therapy because I learn things about myself I otherwise have been taking for granted. Both images used in this post were acquired using a Google image search and are being borrowed to illustrate a point. I claim no ownership of either picture.

The Blonde With The Hip Tattoo

First of all I would like to take the opportunity to thank all the people who continuously support The Magic Weekend in my efforts to share the fantastic stories of your weekends. It has been fun to watch the evolution of this particular segment of The Sting Of The Scorpion. The unfortunate part of my role here is I have to weed through and moderate the flow of stories that hit my e-mail. I spend so much time reading that it cuts into my time I could be posting these stories and then throw in a little life, well you get where I’m going with this, it becomes a time issue for me. As well, many of the great stories come without picture proof and their candidacy automatically gets dropped out of the hat, which sucks, because some of them are really good. On the other extreme end of that is that I get e-mails with a butt-load of pictures, really good pictures, but have very little story if any. Now, I don’t know why people don’t reply back to me when I request more information but that is the way it happens, y’all send the first e-mail and forget all about it. Then we have the perfect combination of story and pictures which y’all will see today. Now, let it be known that there were more pictures and the use of those pictures were approved but due to the nature of the pictures they will not make it into this post. Y’all will understand why later I hope.

This weeks story comes from Jason, a University of Houston student with an undisclosed major, who has lived in the Houston area his whole life. For the most part he lived on the fringes of the city and when he got accepted to the University of Houston he moved into the city to cut down on his commute considerably. Where he lives puts him only 4 miles from school and also just a few miles from work. He states he works at a book re-sale shop in his off time to help offset the bills. On most days he makes his commute to UH on his bike but on days with really crappy weather he is forced to take the bus. As was the case a few Thursdays ago, typical Houston weather, the weather man said sunny and clear all day but rained most of the day. It’s like the weather has a mind of its own or the weatherman never looks out of his window, take your pick. So, let’s get started so everyone can see what his story has in store for us. Y’all can be the judge, does it have sex, jail, money, blood, or fame?

“Scorp-

I have read your blog for some time now, it used to be my dirty little secret that I would look at when I knew nobody was looking because I never knew what you might be showing, but I always knew I would be liking it. The Magic Weekend is one of my favorite sections because it’s true the real life just happens before our eyes without us having to do a thing in return. I realized that after what had happened to me over the last few weeks that I just might have something for your blog. A few Thursdays ago I was forced to ride the bus to class due to some really shitty weather. It wasn’t supposed to rain but of course being in Houston it did because the weather-men here suck ass. Nonetheless, I rode the bus to get to class instead of riding my bike. The bus was fairly packed, by packed I mean that the standing people had to hold on to other people standing in the aisle. I think the rain brought in the over-run of people because I have ridden the bus before and only a handful of people were riding. I’m lucky because my ride is really short. After a few stops the bus cleared out for the most part, the next stop being mine so I got my stuff together. As I was getting off the bus I looked down on one of the seats and noticed a nice cell phone. I looked around and didn’t see anybody around so I picked it up to give to the driver. The driver explained to me that he could not accept any lost items and if I wished to turn it in that I needed to do so at the campus police department. All I can think is this is great, now I get to babysit somebody’s phone until the afternoon because there is no time to go turn it in right away.

Almost immediately after getting into class the phone kept going off, call after call, text after text, and finally I just had to turn it off so there wasn’t any trouble with the instructor. I had a real heavy schedule that day so I was busy the entire day. My last class ran a little long and before I knew it I was in a rush to get to my part-time job. It was still raining so Instead of walking I went ahead and took the bus again. After getting lectured about timeliness and how there are thousands of kids who would like to have my job I was finally able to get to work. I have a simple job that takes hours every day. I sift through all the “bought” books to organize and place on the shelves. It’s time-consuming but it pays the bills for the most part. I worked a little overtime that day so I got out real late. The rain had stopped so I went ahead and walked home. After eating a late supper I decided to dig into my homework. As I emptied my bag the phone I found came tumbling out and I had my first “oh shit” moment of the night. When I went to turn it on I found that the battery was completed down so I plugged it in to my charger for a while so I could try to figure out who it belonged to. After a couple of hours of schoolwork, making it about 1am, I passed by the phone and noticed it was fully charged, so I unplugged it and decided to sit down and take a look. The damn phone had like 60 missed calls and just as many text messages. Whoever owns this phone is pretty busy with it. Once I went through the hundreds of contacts I found her contact information but the only thing it listed was her cell phone number. I looked through some of the texts to see who she texts the most because I was going to send that person a text letting them know to contact her with my information so I could get her phone back to her. I took a picture of the phone for “proof” and sent it to who was listed as “sister” in her contacts. I wrote “My name is Jason and I found this found which belongs to Ella on the bus this morning on the UH campus. Please contact her and forward her this number so I can get the phone back to her”. I sent the text from Ella’s phone with the above picture enclosed. I was expecting an immediate reply but it was just after 2am so I wasn’t holding my breath.

Out of both boredom and curiosity I started snooping in her phone a bit, just to be nosey while I waited. One of the first pictures I saw was of this blonde girl with a tattoo on her hip. I couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bikini or what it was. She seemed to be pointing at her hair, bed head would be my guess. There were hundreds of pictures of this particular tattooed girl on this phone. I began to wonder if this was Ella. Out of all of the pictures only a handful were of this girl with clothes on. Most of them were of her topless and many times bottomless. This was quite a bit to take in all at once. I hit the bed around 4am and went right to sleep, dreaming all night of the blonde girl with the hip tattoo. Who was she? That morning there was a text on Ella’s phone from contact “sister”. All it said was that she went to Ella’s apartment to tell her about her phone. She wasn’t home so she had to stick a note on her door. When Ella gets in contact with her then she will let me know. Okay, I will wait. A few days went by, 6 to be exact, and finally a text back from sister telling me that Ella will be calling me from this number when she gets over to her, please be looking out for it. For 2 more days there was nothing, I carried her phone everywhere I went, she got many texts and many calls, but not from the sister’s number. I was sitting out on my patio doing some homework when the phone rang, it was from the sister phone number. I answered it of course. An angel’s voice asked me if I was for real and I really had her phone. I told her obviously because I am talking on it. We arranged for me to return it to her at a little pizza pub not to far from my apartment. I asked how I would know who she was and how would I recognize her from everybody else. She replied by telling me to go to the photos in her phone and look for the blonde girl with the tattoo on her hip. I didn’t tell her that we had been fucking in my mind for more than a week now because I was already in lust with the blonde girl with the hip tattoo.

I got to the pizza pub right on time. I waited around a bit and finally I saw her walk through the door. She looked amazing in person. I walked up to Ella and introduced myself. Then, being sneaky, I said she looked allot like the girl I have seen on her phone but could she prove it by showing me the tattoo on her hip. She took my arm and led me to a booth, sat me down, and she remained standing in front of me. She looked around a bit, waited for two people to pass us by, then slowly unbuttoned her jeans, slid them down a bit, and exposed the tattoo. Then she asked if I was satisfied. I guess that will do. She sat down next to me, really close, and I handed her the phone. She asked me to hold on a minute and let her check texts and messages because she really wanted to talk to me. Which was fine with me because I was somewhat mesmerized with her every movement. She took all of 3 or 4 minutes and she was done, now it was my turn I guess. She took ahold of my hand with both of hers and asked what she could do to repay my patience and kindness. Tell the truth, a payment option never crossed my mind so I had to tell her to let me think on it for a bit, let’s eat something and that should give me time to think. Then, I hatched my plan, I told her that “if” she could cook that I would like a home cooked meal in my apartment. She told me that she thinks that can be arranged and we set the date for this past Saturday. I gave her my address and phone number and we parted ways right there. I watched her walk out the door, it was just like in the movies, hot girl walking out the door with the lights coming through the glass to illuminate her shape as she disappears into it. I needed to get home, I needed to clean up my pig pen because there was no way she was going to see it like it was, and I only had two days. I don’t think I have actually cleaned my apartment once in the 2 1/2 years I have lived there. Tells you allot about my lack of social life and entertaining.

Shortly after 8pm Saturday evening there is a light knock on my door. I tried to move slow to not give away my anticipation but I nearly tripped over the end table getting to it as fast as I did. I opened the door and Ella stood before me, as beautiful as I remember her to be. She asked if it would be okay if we had one more for dinner because her sister really wanted to meet me as well. Before I could nod, or comment, or move, her sister walked up to the door. Holy fuck! They are twins! I must have had a stupid shit eating grin on my face because the two of them just giggled as the walked by me. After I picked my jaw up off the floor I turned to close the door. They were both carrying grocery bags so I’m thinking this ought to be one hell of a dinner they were going to be preparing. I was instructed to remain in the living room and to never come into the kitchen unless I was called. All I can think now is that they are serial killers and they are making me a poisonous last meal. As much as my imagination was running away from me I was able to remain focused, for the most part. After about an hour I was instructed to have a seat at the kitchen table (sadly it is a folding card table, but I have 3 chairs) and remain with my eyes closed until told otherwise. I could hear them moving around me, I could smell their perfume beginning to mix in with the smells of something I was guessing to be Italian, and they both continuously brushed me or set a hand on my shoulder as they moved by. One of them placed a napkin very gently, but firmly on my lap for me. I heard them take their seats, one on either side of me, and I heard the magic words, “open your eyes now please”. Talk about an amazing first view after opening my eyes, both of them were sitting extremely close to me on both side and both of them were completely naked, oh, and , yea, I was right, they had prepared lasagna. Wow, I mean it is hard to put into words what I was feeling. And the kicker, they both have the identical tattoo but on opposite hips, how weird is that. No wonder I didn’t know there were pictures of both of them when I thought I was only looking at one of them. They served all three of us, we had wine as well, and we sat there and ate. They both were in charge of conversation and we talked about really nothing but I was enjoying the conversation 100%. When the meal was done, they cleared the table, told me to go have a seat, and they went to the kitchen where I could hear them doing dishes. I know, right, bonus!

They both came out and sat on both sides of me on the couch. I asked what was going on, not that I minded, but this all seems way to good to be true. Grace, the “sister” started by saying she knows I went through all the pictures on Ella’s phone so I have already seen both of them naked multiple times so they just wanted to skip all the formalities. They did say that there was nothing sexual going on here and there would not be anything sexual going to happen, not yet. So, we sat there into the wee hours of the morning talking, drinking wine, and getting to know each other, just the 3 of us. They volunteered to take as many pictures as I wanted just as long as I promised they would never make it onto the internet, ever. I agreed. Then, they got dressed and that was it, they were gone. I knew I had to send this story to you the next morning but I had one problem, no pictures. Problem solved, I called Ella and Grace and they sent me a number of pictures which I am forwarding to you, so I hope some of them at least will be used. And that’s it, hopefully the three of us will remain “friends” and keep in close contact.”

Two of the pictures to be exact were usable here for this story. However, I didn’t mind Jason sharing all the rest as well. So, let’s review the criteria. Was there sex? No, but there was nudity. Was there jail? No. Was there blood? No. Was there fame? No. Was there money? Not exactly, but there was a reward and in my book that counts in this category. I look forward to any follow up there may be because if there is I’m sure it will be pretty interesting to say the very least. I hope y’all enjoyed Jason’s story and will return to see more. Which makes me want to ask all of y’all, what did y’all do this weekend? Sex? Jail? Blood? Money? or Fame? E-mail The Sting Of The Scorpion with your fantastic tale and be sure to include many pictures, because without pictures it’s probably bullshit anyway.