Emchap's Shit from the Internet 10/14/20 š
At the beginning of the pandemic, when we were all focusing on washing our hands as the way to stave off the virus (I mean not that itās not a good idea in general but of course at this point itās very clear itās mostly airborne transmission, your groceries will not kill you for touching them), there were several lists going around of songs that you could sing to yourself to count to the recommended 20 seconds. Because I thought this would be a short-lived thing, I picked āAll Star.ā
Well, jokeās on me because Iām still locked in my house and I have spent the last seven months of my life humming the same initial 20 second snippet of a mediocre early-2000s pop song sung by a man in a chinstrap goatee to myself in my house, alone, slowly doing something horrible to my psyche.
Iāve started using it as my internal time marker for any number of intervals. Because my electric toothbrush buzzes at me every 30 seconds, I was able to reverse engineer the 30-second and 60 second marker lyrics; averaging them out, I was able to figure out the 45 second interval for which I wash my face at night. (Itās āyouāll never shine if you donāt glow,ā for the record.)
When all of this is done (which it will be, it has to be, this will eventually break) I canāt tell if this will become the song Iāll play at my wedding or if Iāll never hear it again. Probably the latter, given how the concert ended.
Shit to read
Helen Rosner on indoor dining, excellent as usual.
It might not always be like this.
A piece about swimming and also realizing youāre gay.
Iāve still never seen the non-TV-edit Dirty Dancing, and this made me want to.
If anyone else is totally checked out for food, I liked this meal prep menu, and Iāve been eating variations of it this week.
Just an immensely fucked-up story about ebay.
Stop using strength and battle language about illness!
Shit to eat
Experience an unexpected mid-October heatwave that makes you, just a little bit, want to die, and makes you just a lot a bit not want to turn on the oven.
Take the sweet potato you intended to roast for dinner, and scrub it off. Quarter it.
Fill the rice cooker pot from the rice cooker you bought on a whim with a cup and a half of water, and put the sweet potato flesh-up in the steamer basket.
After googling for how to do this, give up, and set the thing to steam for 30 minutes because itās the max you can.
Come back when it yells at you, and be pleasantly surprised that your kitchen is no hotter than it was, and the potatoes are cooked through.
Put half in the fridge and half in a bowl, and figure out what you have in your fridge that you could put on it.
Decide on some sauteed greens and cheese, some pickled red onions, half an avocado, and a sauce made of avocado, salsa, and yogurt stuck in the food processor until they become a sauce in a general sense.
Toss everything on there, mash it in.
Eat on your couch, feeling vaguely nourished and at least less sweaty than youād otherwise be.
Shit to listen to
This is a funny, grim country song that made me laugh.
Shit to buy
So much halva.
Man I want a boilersuit.