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oh! the horror of that agonising thrill
Jul. 4th, 2003 01:27 am"Mummy, can I kill the little ghosties?"
"Write another three hundred words and I'll think about it, dear."
---
I'm thinking about onigiri. The question is, can I make ones that will be as enjoyable/pleasant/tasty as the one I bought in a Japanese supermarket in London, or will they be merely so-so? Well, the sushi that I've made tasted decent, and I now have plans involving buying some flaked cooked salmon for a centre filling, and I have nori, so one can hope. And they don't look as if they should be fattening, she says hopefully. (Who am I kidding? Everything is fattening.)
Everyone is busy, everyone is hot, everyone is tired. It goes with summertime -- and, judging by recent newspaper articles, it goes with global warming as well.
Once you get a taste for the hard stuff . . . It's true, too true. Once I started enjoying some of the dark and twisted tropes that one can get in various fiction, yaoi in particular, it becomes difficult to enjoy light and fluffy in the same way again. Okay, perhaps I will be able to at some point, but I should not be having the thoughts I am having about Angelique and resident bishonen therein. There just isn't the potential emotional weight to drive the tropes.
---
(from The Story of Prince Agib)
In number ten or twelve, or even more,
They fastened me, full length, upon the floor.
On my face extended flat,
I was walloped with a cat,
For listening at the keyhole of a door.
Oh! the horror of that agonising thrill!
(I can feel the place in frosty weather still.)
For a week from ten to four
I was fastened to the floor,
While a mercenary wopped me with a will!
They branded me and broke me on a wheel,
And they left me in a hospital to heal;
And, upon my solemn word,
I have never, never heard
What those Tartars had determined to reveal.
-- WS Gilbert
"Write another three hundred words and I'll think about it, dear."
---
I'm thinking about onigiri. The question is, can I make ones that will be as enjoyable/pleasant/tasty as the one I bought in a Japanese supermarket in London, or will they be merely so-so? Well, the sushi that I've made tasted decent, and I now have plans involving buying some flaked cooked salmon for a centre filling, and I have nori, so one can hope. And they don't look as if they should be fattening, she says hopefully. (Who am I kidding? Everything is fattening.)
Everyone is busy, everyone is hot, everyone is tired. It goes with summertime -- and, judging by recent newspaper articles, it goes with global warming as well.
Once you get a taste for the hard stuff . . . It's true, too true. Once I started enjoying some of the dark and twisted tropes that one can get in various fiction, yaoi in particular, it becomes difficult to enjoy light and fluffy in the same way again. Okay, perhaps I will be able to at some point, but I should not be having the thoughts I am having about Angelique and resident bishonen therein. There just isn't the potential emotional weight to drive the tropes.
---
(from The Story of Prince Agib)
In number ten or twelve, or even more,
They fastened me, full length, upon the floor.
On my face extended flat,
I was walloped with a cat,
For listening at the keyhole of a door.
Oh! the horror of that agonising thrill!
(I can feel the place in frosty weather still.)
For a week from ten to four
I was fastened to the floor,
While a mercenary wopped me with a will!
They branded me and broke me on a wheel,
And they left me in a hospital to heal;
And, upon my solemn word,
I have never, never heard
What those Tartars had determined to reveal.
-- WS Gilbert
