Michael Kindt's Blog, page 147
February 23, 2015
You don't know this about me, but I make the world's best oatmeal.
On the outside, I seem like a regular guy, with the pointless nipples and reproductive organs stored outside of the body, but I am special when it comes to oatmeal. Mom always said to me, “You’re not special” and for the longest time I believed her, until I came up with the world’s best oatmeal recipe. After that, I knew she was lying. Nowadays I tell people I grew up during the Great Depression: my mother’s, and we all laugh and laugh becuase not only do I make the world’s best oatmeal, but I am also hilarious.
What I do is take a half a cup of steel cut oats and put them in a pan with half a tablespoon of butter. Over medium to high heat, I stir them constantly until a nice toasty smell emerges. While I’m doing this, I’m also bringing a cup and a half of water to a boil, and when that delicious toasty smell appears, I pour this boiling water on the oats and butter and put a lid on it, turning the burner down to a simmer. Then I walk away for a half an hour and do something else. Often, I will watch an episode of Cheers or take my dog Duke out so he can go take a shit in the neighbor’s yard. Sometimes I will simply stand in the bathroom and wash my hands for half an hour because, you know, germs.
After the half hour, I remove the lid, sprinkle on one quarter teaspoon of salt. In a measuring cup, I mix together one fourth a cup of buttermilk and one fourth a cup whole milk. This I pour on the oats and butter and salt, stirring.
Now, this is the part where America comes in because you are free to do different things. You can eat the oatmeal right then and there, or you can leave it on the burner to simmer unlidded to whatever thickness you desire. When you deem it ready, you can mix in one or two or three or more tablespoons of brown sugar.
Seriously, get off the internet and make it right now. You will thank me (if you have manners, that is).
February 21, 2015
Thanks for the follow
Haha. Hey if yer on a porn diet, whatever. Porn is wrong for me. Don’t like how it makes me feel. Don’t like how it makes me think. If a person enjoys porn, more power to em, I say. What I believe in is freedom :)
New pipe (to me)1970s era Falcon. Got it off an old man for $5....
New pipe (to me)
1970s era Falcon. Got it off an old man for $5. Said he had too many pipes. I saw his den. He DOES have too many pipes. Not including cobs, I have, like, ten pipes. This guy had HUNDREDS. Ok, I’m exaggerating. He had dozens and dozens, though.
He has no solid memories about this pipe, except that he bought it new when Carter was President, maybe, or Ford. Definitely before Reagan.
It stunk from age and his preferred weeds, which weren’t mine. I soaked the metal in Everclear, reamed the bowl. It’s a brand new pipe now. On the outside of the bit, you can see a little white paint, which I left in honor. The old man explains it as “I think I was smokin’ it when I painted something.”
I think so too.
Fucking worth five bucks. Smoking it now with a big ol’ bowl of Sir Walter.
Joke a seven year old just told me: How come the sky isn't green?
Because if it was we wouldn’t know when to quit mowing.
"Fifty Shades of Grey is romantic only because the guy is a billionaire. If he was living in a..."
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(via dylyusicstinain)
Haha. This killed me.
For some reason, it made me think of George Costanza. If you don’t remember, George Costanza was a tv character on Seinfeld. He was short, balding, and broke…and always had a date. Only on tv would George Costanza have a date. In real life, a short, bald, broke man does not have a date.
Being on tv…or a billionaire…makes you automatically romantic.
"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most..."
- C.S. Lewis
I have always been a morning person, and from what I gather, we are a rarity.
My son is not a morning person. I don’t know anything about my dad. None of the women I have loved and/or dated in my life have been morning people, and right now as I type this there is a grouchy woman in the next room. I have known her long enough to know I need to leave her alone until around 10 AM local time. She, like so many, needs time to ease into her day, whereas I spring out of bed rarin’ to go.
I love the way I feel after a good night’s sleep. It’s energizing. Never do I have caffeine in the morning, but usually juice of some kind. I take my tea in the afternoons, when doldrums set in. By 2 PM, the charm of the day has worn off for me.
Beginning about a decade ago, I became a nap taker. There’s a trick to it, though, I’ve found. You can’t go down too long or you wake up groggy. Much longer than a half hour and you are sleeping during the day rather than napping, and you will arise groggy and out of it with your normal circadian rhythm compromised. I read somewhere that we nap takers are healthier than non nap takers and since I am a nap taker, I’ve chosen to believe it as gospel truth. A 20 minute nap does indeed make me feel healthier and gets me through the evenings on the way to my blessed, bright, and crackling morning.
Of course, alcohol throws a wrench into this scheme every time. Get a half a bottle of bourbon in me and I can sleep til noon with the best of them. Haha.
Today, though, is one of those bright and blessed and crackling good mornings, with my mind flitting happily about and my body bebopping around the house. Certainly, my favorite time of the day, certainly my favorite way to feel.
So good morning everybody!
February 20, 2015
Boy, Kanye is just a gentleman, ain't he?
It’s like dick move after dick move with this guy.
Smiling on the inside.
Smiling on the inside.
