[284] Screed City

[284]

05/07/2024 Tuesday. Papers Boxes. CRISIS INC offices. Ridgewood, New York.

Money! What the hell? My problem with money is that I need more of it, like all the time. Yesterday I took Junior Mint to once again get the fucking brakes replaced and this time, because it was in Brooklyn, where the hourly rate for mechanics is $150 and hour, it cost me $1,007 fucking dollars. Which I only did because I bought those $800 tires back at Easter. Which I only did because the damn car only has 180,000 miles on it. And, you know, I need it for work sometimes. Not only that but last time I drove back from Troy I noticed a squeaking noise coming from the front right tire so I thought I needed new brakes, but guess what? The squeaking noise is still there so I have that going for me. Not to mention that yesterday I spent $20 on passport photos because I need to renew my passport and when I tried to staple the photo to the application the only stapler in the apartment was Professor Curlys shorty which only shoots staples an inch into a paper because she is a maniac so I had to go to the pharmacy and spend another $20 on a new stapler that would actually do the job and not only that, when I went online to have my bank send me a check for the passport fee it turns out that they have a new policy where they don't mail checks anymore, they only do electric things so I had to buy 100 checks for $25 which would be fine, except I have only sent nine checks in the last four fucking years so what the hell am I going to do with a million extra checks? Does anyone want some money so I can use them up? Just joking! I don't have any fucking money because I spent it all on brakes and staplers! Also, I spent $30 dollars express mailing some hair to Vermont, $9 on rabbit pellets, later I went back to the grocery store and spent $16 on chicken breast [yuck], tortillas and a yellow onion. I feel like there were some other things too. Yesterday was lousy for money. Oh, right, I bought some corporate Ticklers because my artisanal supply ran out, I bought some steak to makes tacos [yum] because I made a special hot sauce [double yum], cilantro and a white onion.

I mean, my passport photo turned out alright:

[insert handsome international dude photo]

Its okay though. I have plenty of work. And! I stopped using apostrophes, so I got lots free time on my hands. Free time I can use in the bathroom because my special hot sauce is a little too special. Just joking, I use it for Scrabbling, my free time, not the bathroom. And the OSHA 30. The fucking OSHA 30, man. So today while I was sitting around accounting for things I remembered that because I got the old fuck you too from a secret rigging company that owes me an apology that is not I Weiss I never finished my OSHA 30 and I thought I had until the end of August, but I do not have until the end of August I have until May 17th which is 10 days from now. So today, since I had nothing on my docket, due to reasons, I opened the training and saw that I still had 12 hours left. About an hour and a half later I was taking a test and when I finished it they congratulated me for finishing the training and then informed me that I couldn't take the actual test until I finished the remaining 10 hours of "Seat Time." Seat time! 10 more hours of sitting in front of the fucking computer before I could take the test! And then guess what happened? See if you can guess what happened? You got it! They fucked me, the assholes! I did six hours of seat time. Basically making sure the program was open and adjusting my settings so my computer wouldn't fall asleep. And they warned me to frequently save the program to make sure I saved my progress, good enough, around 4p I saved the program and proceeded to do two more hours of seat time without saving. Okay, bad on me, sure. But things were fine, I decided to be done for the day, I now had 25 hours of OSHA 30 training, I clicked the save button and logged out. Which was supposed to mean that I have 5 hours more I need to do before the 17th........

Sorry, that story is too boring, even for me. I still have 7 hours left is my point and I have to take the test. I have to do it this weekend or I have to start all over again, wasting countless hours at this point and the $200 it cost me to buy the damn test. Money and time I can get back as long as I just finish the fucking thing.

I finished the adventure novel I have been writing. A certain AL said it was like, "...if Jack London took mushrooms..." The thing starts with three people getting sucked out of a crashing airplane and getting stuck on top of a giant pine tree. Somehow it gets worse from there. I didn't want it to end. But, you know, sometimes you have to sacrifice for your art. Speaking of which, if anyone has $30,000 they want to donate to this art project I am working on, just shoot me an email.

Chicken. Am I the only one, vegies and veggies aside, naturally, that doesnt like chicken? Or more specifically, that is consistently disappointed by chicken? I like fried chicken, chicken nuggets, chicken strips, chicken gizzards, I like it baked, I like it breaded, I like chicken soup when it is time to eat chicken soup, but whenever I cook it myself, PU. The only time I get it right is the chicken gizzards, but that is just frying the gizzard for a while after dousing in corn starch, dousing in cornstarch again and frying until done. You know, I noticed a few years ago that chicken and cheese are a great combo, two pals that go great together, but what can you do with that information? Cordon Blue? I feel like we already had this argument. Enchiladas, or course, chicken burritos, naturally, but where is that thing that makes chicken so fond to everybody but me?

When I said I liked it, I meant I like it enough. Oh, WANGS! I have a fondness for the WANGS, who doesnt? Is that it though? Is it just a fat issue? Why fried chicken is good but a slab of chicken breast can suck it? Why deep fried chicken wings in hot sauce can be transcendent but a chicken skewer is meh at best? I crock potted this chicken breast yesterday and it might as well have been slow cooking a hank of white sidewalk chalk. Not only that, but the other day before Professor Curly ditched for Vermont I bought a whole raw chicken and crockpotted the thing with the exact same results. She loved it, but she also eats raw carrots so her taste is quite suspect.

But is that it? Am I just overcooking it or something? I used to do this thing.... I think I just solved my own dilemma. I used to do this thing where I would slowly cook chicken in a Mexican-style tomato sauce that I learned from when Jay Gbaur lived with this group of immigrants in Queens in like 1997. They had this pot of chicken in red sauce that seemed to be cooking at all times all day and night every day sitting on the stove. You would eat it with corn tortillas. It had cumin and onions and other spices I have never figured out. But now that I think about it, about that, about how good it was, about how I have a crock pot now, something I can leave alone for hours without worrying about starting a fire because of the gas, or burning the food because I am away too long, I can go back and see if I can figure out that recipe.

But fat too. Chicken needs a fatty as they say downtown. Everyone knows it, I know it too. This is why the very tiresome nonsense of spatch-cocking your turkey comes around once a year around Turkey Day. Fatless breasts walk while thicc legs and wings talk. Which is another thing they say downtown. I ran into Kate Valk just the other day on Wooster street and she told me that exact thing:

"Joe, dont let anybody confuse you, fatless breasts walk, while thicc legs and wings talk."

I don't know, now I am hungry. Maybe Ill head back home and slow fry some chicken. Is that a thing? I guess we will find out. I was joking when I wrote that, but now I am having ideas.

[insert Bernie and his thicc meme]