My Store.

Do you want to pay gold or diamonds to me?

I have a trinket you want immeasurably
I’ve got a ton of stuff you want to buy
I can’t prove it, so you should come inside

Looking in the windows of my wonderous store
Gold and diamonds are what I hoard

The trinkets I sell are worth quite a lot
you like all their uses that I need to think up

Gleaming gold sitting in my room alone
I pile it up to play in when I’m home

I’m like a crow.
I like shiny stuff.
I stare it and then gobble it up
I fly to my nest and plunk it down
Pay me more riches to spread all around

The trinkets’ uses are made up on the spot
If you want proof, this note is all that I’ve got
“Their purpose is secret but their uses are great”
That’s what it says, so just go with it

You wanted something to place in view
a wind up stallion worth a million and two
I can’t promise winding or movement at all
but the price will be right
I guarantee that to all

I’m like a crow.
I like shiny stuff.
I stare it and then gobble it up
I fly to my nest and plunk it down
Pay me more riches to spread all around

Have a great day–and take something with you.

I drew up 9 basic syllable sheets for each facing view, based around each phonetic mouth shape etc. This meant that I could make some realistic looking speech, instead of it just being static (like my previous digital animation test). I chose to animate to this particular bit of conversation, because for one thing: it was the lengthiest clip which I managed to attain, and secondly: it was a highly amusing clip to record an listen to!

In order to improve on the visual entertainment of this animation, further into the stages of completion, I am going to add panning shots to some small sequences, just to keep things fresh and interesting  Also, I intend on creating little insert shots of Betty tapping a cup or moving around in her chair. or even playing with the edge of a newspaper. This recurring change of shot will keep viewers attentive and interested throughout the animation.

Click here to listen to Episode 35

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Happy New Year, one and all! Enjoy the madness as we discuss 7 line woes, restaurant hype, and burning holes in one’s stomach

****

CALL TO ARMS!

We can’t keep this NonSensical beast going without you. Please, PLEASE, PLEASE tell your friends about us. You and them should be following us on every medium possible AND dropping us love. And of course, we will do the same.

Via iTunes: NonSensical Chef Rants and click SUBSCRIBE FREE. ALSO, Rate and Review us. It’s the only way to get us on the iTunes Algorithm and up on the charts.

WHILE you are at it, do the same for “THREE GUYS ON“. These three comics from D.C. are HILARIOUS and are go-to podcast for humor. AND… they put one out TWICE a week! Talk about a work ethic!

FACEBOOK: NonSensical Chef Rants

TWITTER: @NCRChefs

Travis: @ChefTravieso

Gregorio: @Chef_Gregorio

As the days grow shorter
And dusk does come
The clock keeps ticking
A child’s mind goes numb

Now monsters and goblins enter
And the screams are in the air
A nightlight may be cherished
With a fuzzy teddy bear

So parents please be aware
And take care of your child’s heart
Because if in later years they wish it
From you they will one day part

I remember myself as a kid – I used to sit by the computer for hours and hours for days and days. It took a long time till I grew tired, and when I finally did, I still kept at it because there wasn’t anything else to do. When I was younger, I was essentially just a rock.

But now, now I have things I want, things I enjoy, things I appreciate and love and miss and regret. I’m still selfish at times, mean at times, so partly I may still be a rock. But at least I’m more of a squishy rock. (?) I think I managed to grow up a bit, and now I just need to grow up a bit more to become a fully-certified adult!

These are digressions within digressions, I’m too tired to actually round this up in an accomplished kind of way. Let me talk about one of the past few days when I was taking the subway home. I was exhausted (as I usually am these days) and I was looking out the window. I didn’t realize it until that very moment, but the city lights look awfully a lot like stars in the darkness. Tiny blinking lights that look far away. If you just put a little imagination to it, you might see it too.

Enjoy the star gazing everyone and a happy Christmas to each and every one. I hope I’ll be able to see a Christmas Carol on TV this year. I used to love that story as a kid. Over and out.

Point of Inspiration:

My mood exactly.

Song of Mood:
NO SONG OF MOOD FOR THIS POST. RAAAWR!!!

*breathe deeply*
…It’s been said that one should endeavor to understand more than to be understood; and frankly I don’t think people would consider me anything but open-minded. The nature of my work and studies requires it. I never stubbornly hold to any belief or idea if I get sufficient information that points to the contrary.

But there are still a number of things that I have never really understood after a good number of years. These things are not deep, philosophical, or political. These are minor, trivial things that just boggle my mind or just frustrate me to no end.

1) Sound Boards.

Obviously fancy performances and recordings require fine tuning, but surely there can be simple versions that can be attached to those big speakers instead of a thousand buttons and knobs and wires and bells and whistles and chicken bones and wooden levers?

I mean, I just want the microphone to work, and to be able to adjust volume. That should be as simple as an ON button, an OFF button, and ONE KNOB that controls VOLUME. VERY SIMPLE. But noooooo, I have to deal with THIS:

Oh you mean this is the cockpit of a space shuttle?

2) Rich people food.

And I don’t even mean fancy $100 steaks. I mean like, food that’s so obscure and semi-poisonous and totally impractical that costs like a month’s salary per meal.

Of course, I’ve never tried food like that so I confess to not actually knowing if it tastes good or not (if I were ever served something like that, I’d ask everyone in the room how I might exchange it for the cash back). If for some reason I get to try these and I find out they taste really unique, of course I’ll change my stance on this.

In reality though, I’m willing to bet that the ingredients themselves don’t actually taste that great, and most DEFINITELY wouldn’t fill anybody up! It’s almost as if the very definition of “rich people food” is actually just a matter of finding the MOST obscure, ugly, bizarre and inedible substances on the planet earth and turning them into food somehow.

Bacon cheeseburger? PEASANT FOOD. I only eat squishy goop that costs the lives of 100 firstborn sons.

The only reason rich people eat them, then, is because it costs a boatload of cash and for absolutely no other reason. It’s a mere statement saying, “I’m eating this semi-evolved brain of a cross-mixed radioactive jellyfish-octopus-squid that tastes like snot JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN’T, PEASANT!”

If I ever become rich, I hope I’ll still enjoy $2 pizza more than alien toenails extracted from metereorites. If I want to be “fancy” I hope I’d stick with a juicy steak, expertly made with simple but quality ingredients instead of some walking fungi that grow on the armpits of specially-bred orangutangs living only in the subterranean crystal caves of mount Kilmanjaro.

3) Aluminum window blinds.

Sure, in concept they must have sounded great; imagine being able to control how much light is let in by gradual adjustment, and you can even collapse the whole thing! Also, you can bend one strip to peek outside without rolling up the entire thing. Sounds great, right?

At least the cloth kind is more comfy.

But CLEANING those bloody things! There’s probably an easy way to do it, but my dormitory instructors never showed me one other than just going through each strip with a wet cloth and back then I didn’t have access much to internet.
What happens when cleaning them, then, is that the crap stuck on them ends up collecting around the parts where the strings are, and you have to use like a freaking q-tip to clean that section. What’s worse, you have to be careful and slow or else you’ll bend and damage them. It takes FOREVER and it’s FRUSTRATING!!

…don’t even get me started on the strings getting tangled too. Aluminum blinds DESERVE to be bent and mutilated just for EXISTING. >:(

4) “On” Buttons that also serve as “Off”, “standby”, and “sleep.”

Since projectors have to warm up and cool down, if I want the thing ON, I’d like ONE button that does ONE function. No number of additional presses of that button should change a thing. If I want the thing OFF, I’ll have a SEPARATE button for that.

But no, these designers decide to put four good functions on a SINGLE button. So I press the button…I hear sounds, but no light! Is it still charging? Is it on “standby”? Do I press it again? Ok I’ll press it again. NOOO I DONT WANT STANDBY I WANT IT “ON”! JUST ON!

And after I finally get it working and want to turn it off, how many times do I have to press it to turn it off!? Alright, I pressed it once…it should turn off. Uh. Why isn’t it turning off? Must be on standby. Ok I’ll press it again–what? NO DON’T TURN BACK ON–

GRLBDRLGTRZRLRTDRGRLBRLZ.

*sigh*. Callllmmmm downnn…think of happy place…..relaaaxxx……..everything’s gonna be fiiiine….

You try something new, a substance. You feel euphoric, the rush, the high, the joy. You feel powerful, unbreakable, like anything is possible. Right at that moment you can beat almost any struggle or hurdle that comes your way.

It takes away the emptiness, it gives you something to focus on, it keeps you going. Most of all, it gives you purpose.

You like it, you’re loving it, you’re hooked. It has you on a leash. You want to go back for more. The experience leaves you speechless.

You go again. You have some more of it. You now need it, you need more of it in able for you to go on.

All of a sudden, it’s not there anymore, you can’t get your hands on it, time has run out. You panic. Your body is screaming in agony, “more dopamine!”. You’re craving the substance now. You crave the way it made you feel.

Withdrawal symptoms. They crush you and tear you down mentally and physically. But just when you feel like giving up, your body starts to recover.

You no longer feel physically dependant on it to keep you going. You still crave it every now and then. But slowly and surely, it fades away, deep into your unconscious.

Its gone, you no longer want it. What you don’t know is that it hasn’t left you unharmed. There is damage you can’t see. Damage you’re not aware of.

You see someone else using that same substance. You thought you were over it. Then why does it hurt so bad? How did the cravings reemerge so strongly? “I thought I was fine. I thought I no longer wanted it.” You feel yourself breaking down again, this time very slowly and painfully. Your humanly nature kicks in, though you know that substance is of no benefit for you, you want it, you need it, you envy the other person for taking it instead of you. You’re shattered.

Withdrawal symptoms all over again, this time, it doesn’t take so long. You manage to overcome it. With a lot of determination and will power, you overcome addiction.

Or shall we say love?

I believe it’s just the same, being addicted to a human being instead of a harmful drug is very acceptable to us humans. It’s called ” being in love”. Love is just an addiction, we can overcome.

The big picture meaning that to have faith in not only a government but humankind you would hope that something simple like a road being fixed would be done to ensure safety. How can one have faith in a government to help prevent more life threatining things from happening like a mass shooting? It is not the governments fault that these things happen. Whether you have good gun laws or not someone who wants a gun will find a way to get a hold of one.

But tell me if our process’ are so complicated at a basic level of fixing a road to prevent future issues how can we trust in humanity to get better? The news day after day just proves that things are getting worse no matter what “laws” or “reports” are in process. The big picture whether it be in Canada, the US, China, Africa or any other country there is one big puzzle. If you don’t look at the bigger picture then humanity will downfall. We have all these social rules that comparing death to something small and insignificant is horrible and can’t be compared.

But it can be. When you look at the bigger picture we take so much time finding solutions for insignificant things like a road being fixed that the time needed to be spent on larger issues is not happening. And it must be frustrating as a president or a prime minister to have all these ambitions to change things. To prevent the death of children, to prevent drunk drivers, to prevent a road from collapsing and potentially ending lives and to find out they are embeded in a system and society that values money, that values violence, that values corruption… more then it values the human life.

Two extremes can be compared, even in the fear of offending or disrespecting someone. It is the only way to see the bigger picture. The news is one big worldly puzzle. It connects us to other countries, other cultures, other practices. All of these together make you wonder… when will anything change for the better?

Click here to listen to Episode 34

****

****

CALL TO ARMS!

We can’t keep this NonSensical beast going without you. Please, PLEASE, PLEASE tell your friends about us. You and them should be following us on every medium possible AND dropping us love. And of course, we will do the same.

Via iTunes: NonSensical Chef Rants and click SUBSCRIBE FREE. ALSO, Rate and Review us. It’s the only way to get us on the iTunes Algorithm and up on the charts.

WHILE you are at it, do the same for “THREE GUYS ON“. These three comics from D.C. are HILARIOUS and are go-to podcast for humor. AND… they put one out TWICE a week! Talk about a work ethic!

FACEBOOK: NonSensical Chef Rants

TWITTER: @NCRChefs

Travis: @ChefTravieso

Gregorio: @Chef_Gregorio

I have a lot to say, and like most everyone on the internet, I have an opinion and feel compelled to share it.

As a self-proclaimed humorist and conversationalist, I can tell you there really isn’t anything sacred in my world of critical analysis and thinking.  I think to avoid feeling, and while doing this, I find that I make myself laugh.  I’m truly gifted at making myself laugh,  so maybe I will be able to make a few more people laugh along the way.

It is a brutal world, and someone has to make nonsense of it. -It might as well be me.

[I am unknowingly masterful at run-on-nonsensentences!  If you can't keep up with my nonsense, it because of me.  Trust me, it's not you.  I just need some space.  No, really, you didn't do anything wrong.  You're a beautiful person.  I'm just an asshole who doesn't know when to put a comma in or when to shut up and place a period at the end and I need to figure myself out.  So, no it's not you.  It's me.]

I promise to make every attempt to spell correctly and to not swear too much.  At the same time, I did promised myself that I wouldn’t filter while blogging, so if I happen to slip and swear, it’s for my own sanity and not intended to offend any prudish sensibilities.

I have discovered that when there is no class clown to be found, that it’s usually me.  I’d say just call me the pedrolino of wordpress, but there isn’t a feminine equivalent of “pedrolino” in Commedia dell’arte.  Therefore I encourage you instead, to call me “pedrolina the first!”  “Perdolina”  -I’m beginning to think that that moniker will suit me well!

http://paranormalexplained.tumblr.com/

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to knit.

Before I get to those though I do have a couple of posts I’ll get queued up to go in the next few days. One will be on “dark” spirits and the next on deciding if the paranormal is right for one to delve into. What I mean by those will be better explained in the coming days while I wrack my brain for more writing content.

This short post will hopefully be one of the many I intend to put up this month. Now if everyone can excuse me I need to be up in the morning for breakfast at Golden Corral in the morning.

I just realised I have yet to wrote down what exactly happened at the ceremony. Yar is great. Even though I was bloody shaking like Shit on the stage but it was great. The feeling was good, to have people clap for you and laugh at spots you want them to laugh. But more importantly is that I think I did inspire them in some way, and which according to wikihow the purpose of a valedictory speech is to ‘reflect, inspire and touch.’ I mean, having people you don’t really know quoting you, liking you and tagging you on Facebook because of a single speech is a feat. I am proud of myself. And it has been a while since I feel so proud of myself. I think the last time was when I got into Dunman High.

Sometimes emotions are so intense, that it become so singular, and it felt so weird. You know majority of the time when you feel a certain emotion, you tend to have other emotions at the same time? I mean, I how often do you truly and singularly feel happy? Or sad? It is rare for intense emotions. But when u did have the chance to experience, you will finally understood what exactly that emotion means.

Is difficult to explain in words. The complexity of human conditions. Maybe madam koh the Dean list psychology student can explain better.

Anyway ever since I started working, I have become soooo much more happier compared to my uni days. Yes clients are stupid and you have one or two stupid people on the way, but in general the mood is high. To the point I think it is hedonistic. Like, how to explain, I spend so much more time indulging in food and other leisure activities that are not really ‘spiritual’. Activities that are plain fun but serve little to enhance your.. ‘INNER SELF’ . I mean, I singing k is fun. But in no way is it going to make me understand the bliss of life. Hope you get what I mean. Is like indulgence. I And every time I engage in these activities, at he back of my mind I am feeling guilt.

And I am still feeling uncertain about future. What do I really want in life…??? What? Though I sort of taken the ‘walk one step at a time and just see how it goes’, kind of attitude, it is still scary.

Especially when goals now are all set by yourself. It is not like in school, where they set very specific categories of achievements for you to aim. first class honors, third class honors, e.t.c. Is like u are thrown into a huge ocean and you can do anything you want. If the freedom, and is good and scary at the same time.

Sometimes I wish I am a more clear minded person.

The office should be open now. I time to go bye.

First of, let me give you a little bit more information on what this is all about. You see, about a week ago, I was on EarlyRise’s channel to listen to a new song. And then I saw this comment.

So I believe that majority would assume he meant an illegal download link. Since no one refers to the iTunes/amazon/cdbaby links as download links. If you were really referring to a webstore link, you would phrase your sentence this way “A new album?!?!?! Where can I purchase this?!!”. So it’s either his English is bad, or that he really was referring to an illegal link. So I had to reply and I replied him with this:

Say that I’m wrong for assuming what he meant for all  care, but apparently, another 35 people interpreted it the same way as I did. And guess what, the inevitable happened. Waves of comments to attack me came. They were all filled with profanities and nonsensical phrases. Here’s one.

There, there. Just because I had an opinion which differs from his, I was seen as “trying to be the hero” and what’s worse, a douche. I guess I need no further elaboration. You can see my reply to him from the screen shot.  I’m not saying that I’m profanity-free. I’m just saying that calling someone else derogatory names does not aid you in putting a point across. Sure, everyone is entitled to their own opinions, but that doesn’t give you the rights to call others names. I’m not very affected by it to be honest. I’m just showing you the ugly side of the human race. How disturbing is that to know that you will receive personal attacks for saying something.

Here’s another:

BREAKING NEWS PEOPLE! HEADLINES! YOU WILL  AUTOMATICALLY BECOME A FAG WHEN YOU ARE RIGHTEOUS! Oh, and how the hell am I being melodramatic?

mel·o·dra·mat·ic/ˌmelədrəˈmatik/

Hope is leading you down a tunnel where the light is in a state of receding,
exceeding the optimism of a moment the day is delayed,
you should stop reading if you are looking for sense to be made,
it’s a fragile facade and a hapless charade on your part,
maybe naivety on mine but we are both a fault,
a structure half hazy full of constant divergences and a state of endless tumult,
were you expecting results, halt, hit the back button this is the wrong place,
speaking of space the planets are never aligned.

Multiply the stars totality and you have a fraction of my mental selves,
building lies in my great workshop busy as Santa’s little elves.
slaves perhaps but their smiles have you fooled,
and with their cute little tools and pasted on grins,
blood boils beneath and they expose all their sins,
the darkness rages within like a series of collapsed stars,
and in their toy cars lay your demise full proof and fully plotted,
they cross all their T’s but leave their eyes oddly un-dotted.

A week later I was back at the restaurant, albeit with a new job as a waiter.  The chef was still at the hospital, so he’d been replaced by this woman named Sherry who was a recent graduate of Johnson & Wales Culinary Academy.  Great, I thought to myself.  Another fucking snob who’s going to make life here difficult.  At least I have an ace up my sleeve this time.  The guy in the next bed over from me in the hospital blew himself up in his dad’s workshop playing around with homemade napalm, and clued me in on some very easy at-home techniques for IED’s.  He lent me a copy of the Anarchist’s Cookbook, which I found to be a fascinating read.  The guy that wrote is must’ve been a real asshole, that’s for sure.  I identified with the poor bugger.  In any case, I was back at it.  The rest of the staff were uneasy, but they kept their fucking mouths shut because my mom was their boss.  I also gathered them all around before we opened to stress that fact to them in my own words.  “Look,” I said, “I know that a lot of you aren’t too happy that I’m back, but you’ll have to suck it up because my mother signs your measly paychecks.  You don’t like me and I certainly don’t like any of you, so stay out of my fucking way and give me the best tables or I’ll be sure to make your life a living hell, you god damned slaves.”  God it was good to be back!  I went back to the kitchen and told Sherry to make me a Porterhouse For Two.  She said that she’d been told that the wait staff could only have pasta or chicken, so I started swearing at her foully and let her know that I was Bridgette’s son.  She made me the food, which I took down to my mom’s office so that I could eat in peace.  The office is more like a dungeon, with an exposed stucco façade and more garish paintings, dim lighting, and empty bottles of cognac.  My mother is such a fucking lush.  What a dumb bitch.  Through the years I have brought numerous girls down there with the intent of seducing them.  I mean, how hard could it be?  I’m dealing with waitresses and bus-girls, please!  It never worked, unfortunately, even when I threatened to have them fired for not committing this or that act of depravity.   After I finished my meal I went back upstairs to the hostess stand and grabbed the reservation book after glaring at her massive boobs.  She looked at me in disgust, and I didn’t really feel that badly about it.  The feeling was mutual.  I poached the best tables for myself and went to work.  I draped a towel over my forearm and strolled up to my first table.  “Hello, how are you two this evening?” I said to an obese, bald man who was probably in his fifties and a thirty-something woman whose hair was so processed, I actually thought about removing the votive candle from the table lest it ignite her hair in a Hindenburg-esque fireball.  “Fine-fine, yes, well-well.  Look, we’re in a hurry.  We have to make it to the theater in an hour for the premier of Not Everybody’s Donkey, so you’re going to have to hurry our order.  She’ll have the Great Meatballs of Fire and linguine and I’ll have the Braised Orangutan Sweetbreads, HOLD THE SHALLOTS!  Do I need to repeat that?” he barked.  ”No, I’ve got it.  You’ve made excellent choices.  I’ll get these in right away!”  I said, smiling at them.  I broke into a light jog back to the kitchen to let them think that I meant business, and made a bee-line for the walk in cooler.  “Order up, Pasqualdo?” Sherry said as I ran by.  “No, I’ll take care of this one myself.  Old friends, you see.” I said.  I grabbed a bucket and a colander and dumped two meatballs, the sweetbreads, two whole shallots and some linguine in the bucket and went downstairs to the employee bathroom.  As luck would have it, Eduardo, one of the busboys had just come out.  There was an almost visible wall of putrid stench wafting out of the latrine, so I had to brace myself and know that the end would surely justify the means of the abominable act that I was about to commit.  I dumped the contents of the bucket into the toilet bowl which still had a rotating organic mass of flotsam inside and gave it a good stir with the plunger that was caked with filth.  I then scooped it out with the colander put it back into the bucket and went back to the kitchen.  I plunged the whole mess into the deep fryer and then plopped the goop onto two plates and covered it with orange slices and parsley as a garnish.  Sherry didn’t know what to make of what I was doing and was unsettled by my maniacal laughter as I wiped the edges of the plates and put the tray on my shoulder.  I grabbed a can of lighter fluid and a lighter and walked up to my table.  “Your entrees, sir and madam!”  I said in a very dramatic tone, and I did a little pirouette and put the plates down with much ceremony.  The man was the first to speak up.  “What the hell is this!” he said as all of the blood went to his head.  A moment later, “My God, is this some kind of joke?” the woman said.  “I’m afraid that it’s not” I said.  “But it’s not quite done!  I have to perform the flambé!”  I reached into my apron and pulled out the can of lighter fluid and drenched both plates and set them aflame with my lighter.  Their plates went up with a whoosh and the man and woman slid their chairs back, terrified.  I sprayed the lighter fluid on the girl’s head which burst into flame.  She started to scream, and all I could think was that she looked like an upside down burning broom.  The gentleman jumped on her to extinguish the flames, and as he did so, I picked up his vacated chair and broke it over his back at which point he hit the ground in a heap with his singed dinner companion.  I sat down in her chair and started to rattle off anecdotes of my past sexual conquests in chronological order as the rest of the patrons started streaming out of the restaurant like rats from a sinking ship.  After a minute or so, the man started to come back to life and tried to struggle to his feet.  I went over to the other side of the dining room and pulled a Paul Klee print off the wall and smashed the painting over his head.  He now wore the canvas around his neck like a cartoonish musketeer.  I grabbed the cake knife off the desert bar and ran toward the nearest booth and cut the seat pad into ribbons and threw the stuffing over my head in wadded tufts.  The falling seat pad stuffing reminded me of a snowy day when I was a child.  At this point the sprinkler system had gone off and a drenching rain had begun to fall in the dining room.  My horrified mother had already called 911, and the fire and police departments were en-route.  It was time for me to take my leave now that dinner service was complete, so I ran out the back to the parking lot and got in my car.  I took aim at the back patio where we had four tables and an outside bar and gunned the engine.  The tires squealed and smoked as the car lurched forward full-tilt and smashed into the tables and bar and then into the servers station, completely demolishing everything.  The car became wedged underneath the pile of wreckage and wouldn’t back out.  I grabbed a baseball bat out of the trunk and assaulted the parking lot attendant, just as the police came around the corner with their guns drawn.  “Down on the ground, MOVE!” they shouted.  I ceased my efforts against the parking lot attendant so that I could look up at the police.  I gave them the finger and told them to sod-off, at which point the parking lot attendant rammed a pocket knife into the base of my skull, killing me instantly.  “Dammit!” I said as I started down the tunnel to god-knows-where. ”Hopefully I won’t meet any more of these assholes wherever I’m going next!”