Sopapilla and Sharing

So the other day some some sweet ladies were in my line at the store and I filled them in on a Sopapilla recipe I have grown to love pretty quickly. They were obviously quite excited about this and wanted the aforementioned recipe for themselves. I told them I got it from "allrecipes.com" but I wasn't quite sure. It turns out I was right so all probably went well but next time I think I'll refer people to this easy to remember place. For those of you who are visiting because I've directed you here so you can get your hands on this delicious and easy recipe, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. The only modification I made to the recipe was that I used "buttery" crescent dough for the top crust which I thought was a nice touch and I served with fresh macerated strawberries.

Sopapilla Mexican Cheesecake 

Ingredients

• 2 (8 ounce) packages cream cheese, softened
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon Mexican vanilla extract
• 2 (8 ounce) cans refrigerated crescent rolls
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 cup butter, room temperature
• 1/4 cup honey

Directions

1. Preheat an oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Prepare a 9x13 inch baking dish with cooking spray.
2. Beat the cream cheese with 1 cup of sugar and the vanilla extract in a bowl until smooth.
3. Unroll the cans of crescent roll dough, and use a rolling pin to shape each piece into 9x13 inch rectangles. Press one piece into the bottom of a 9x13 inch baking dish. Evenly spread the cream cheese mixture into the baking dish, then cover with the remaining piece of crescent dough. Stir together 3/4 cup of sugar, cinnamon, and butter. Dot the mixture over the top of the cheesecake.
4. Bake in the preheated oven until the crescent dough has puffed and turned golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and drizzle with honey. Cool completely in the pan before cutting into 12 squares.

GLOBECANS!! Enjoy. <3

That's What It's All About (clap clap)

BAM!! Whatup Globe, Globey Globe Globe!? .. oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Darn. Are your kid's ok? How's the wife taking it? That hard huh? Well, wow. I wasn't quite expecting such a response. I wish you the best, I truly do and I hope things sving for the better man. I hope you know I'm always here for you if you just need someone to talk to or even just a buddy to joke with for a distraction. I care about you Globe, and I want what's best for you. Yeah, it's no problem. You just work on getting that issue taken care of. I'd hate for it to get much worse. 

Anyway, just wanted to tell you a thing or two. That's what I do you know. 

First off. It's a great day for basses. If you weren't aware of that already, you might be like me and stopped watching this season of American Idol after Casey Abrams was voted off by morons who don't know a lick about the pure root of American music. On that note (literally), listen to some jazz. Feel the bluesey chord progressions pulse through your body and imagine what exactly it took to bring you that awe inspiring sound. Think before the forties, with the sultry sounds of the Glenn Miller Orchestra upon the backdrop of the second world war, providing the soundtrack for valiant souls who gave their lives for the cause of freedom. Think before the roaring twenties, as women were getting their hands on rights, heading to the ballot box and getting non-saloon singing careers. Think in terms of brave and honorable men and women chanting, in the fields of their masters', songs of their Master and his incomprehensible ability to bring about freedom, ringing over the rivers and mountains and plains to imprisoned people everywhere and remember that He can do the same for you, no matter what bondage binds you. Back to the topic sentence of the paragraph, congrats Scotty, I can't say I hoped you would win it, but I was hoping for the sake of the uniqueness of your voice, that you would make it far and that wish continues for your post-idol success. 

Plus guys, I think it's time we understand  a something important. I realized this Tuesday. We really have got to put our whole selves in. You can start with a hand, or a foot, if you'd like, but ultimately, in all you do, it is so important that you dedicate yourselves to it. If you're doing something you don't feel deserving of your full attention, maybe you should reevaluate your warrant for doing it at all. Commit to your decisions.When you do this, your decisions will commit to you. BUT!! It's also important to put your whole self out. Too many people are wandering around their self serving decisions, mindlessly acting on behalf of themselves. They do only what benefit's them directly and measurably. When we commit to those kinds of decisions we only bring those around us down and most often ourselves with them. Selfish people are bitter and unhappy. The antidote to this is to so the slightly above. Put your whole self out of selfishness. Then you're left with the beauty of ishness. Ish people are inspiring. Ish people are happy, because they know that what they are doing is truly making a difference in the world that needs some difference. 

Also, It's my birthday on Saturday and I demand presents. I really don't even care what kind of presents either as long as they're wrapped in shiny paper or in a shiny bag with fluffy fluff. 

IN conclusion, I just want to remind everyone to laugh, dance, leap for joy, live the good life, and probably most importantly 

Shake it all about. (The hokey pokey. Isn't that what it's all about? I think so too)

The Video

Globe! Remember that one time, no not that time, the other time, yes that time. I mentioned that day that there was a reason I was at the precise place at the precise moment where the Minnesotans crashed into the front left side my car and necessitated my walking a lot more than usual. Specifically I said, "Once upon a time, Mma, a friend of mine, enlisted my help for the creation of a music video for a friend currently serving an LDS mission in Belize.Well, I belize he's in Belize, but sometimes I get confused about these kinds of things. I know you know what I mean, you forgetful globe you. This music video is going to be freaking epic and will be on Youtube and my blog soon for all to enjoy. The epic-est part of the whole thing is that I didn't think it was possible to do the things that we're doing for this project. Video making is like voodoo magic. Quite frankly I didn't think it was real. I figured only mystical and mostly fictional witches did most of the creating for us to enjoy, but it turns our any ol' person can do it as long as they have a lock of hair and a needle." Well, Um, Here's the video vellas: 

My friend Emma is probably the most talented mystical and not at all fictional vooditioner ever. I'm happy to have been a part of this magnificent project. 

Globecans, Partake. 

A Poem About an Important Thing

It’s Alive

I.

It’s Alive.
Hours of painstaking, electric passion now brilliantly awakened in awesome perfection.
A heart beat. My art’s feat. A triumph over common logic, now opens eyes and looks me right in the face.
But it’s Alive. My life’s desire glares grotesquely into my face like every nightmare ever dreamed is my dream’s ugly reality.
IT’S ALIVE!
Skin broken, stitches sprung, muscles tightening until the beast had moved, and moved ugly, at me. His hands, terrible hands, at me, its creator, with eternal malice in spite of creation at me.
How could it be alive? Why would I wish this decision? Why work with this grotesque precision for an abhorrence, thrust now mad upon mankind.

Now it’s alive. Not like the mangled body of poor, pure, William. Not like that seven year old ladies man, Louisa Byron no longer fated for his arm. And at my selfish hand, Justine, Justine, while blood flows freely through my veins and despair grips my beating heart, lays accused of the murder I, by my irresponsibility, committed.
“Devil! Fiend that thou art! the tortures of hell are too mild” Monster! Demon!

II.

Precious child, brought to her mother at precisely 8:15. Nine short months, a few testing hours, struggles economically, physically, don’t get us started on emotionally, merely hurdles to leap, or more often, mountains to move, but with the right crew, and a little dynamite, we made it through to now, looking at this tiny angel and standing in silent awe.

She’s alive. Those moments and hours of painstaking, electric passion now brilliantly awakened in awesome perfection.
A heartbeat. God’s art’s feat. A triumph over common logic now opens eyes and looks me right in the face.
But it’s Alive. The future with my life’s desire now glares gluttonous into my face like every nightmare of the past nine months is only the beginning of reality. Work is hard and doesn’t pay enough. Love is tough and tough love is tougher. I don’t want to have to say no because “daddy can’t afford it” or “that money’s for school so daddy can afford it one day. Now go to sleep sweety. Remember to pray.” Sometimes stress doesn’t settle until we realize that someday happened today.
OH SHE’S ALIVE!
Skin awoken, eyes sprung, muscles tightening until her arms had moved, and moved gorgeous, at me. Her hands, precious hands, at me, her creator, with eternal love in spite of my follies, my imperfections.
How could she be alive? How could I be a part of this miracle? Why question the store of God’s grace for the future when an infinite measure of grace is packaged and presented before me in such subtle and grandiose splendor?


III.

It’s apparent that I’m not. But for parents, apparently, at least for a lot, I think it’s time we wake up and hear the midnight crying that for too long we’ve been ignoring. We can’t just roll over and whisper “it’s your turn this time” anymore. The screaming, the wailing, the whimper down the hallway isn’t something we can put off any longer.

In 2007, one year, one study showed that 1,760 infants were murdered by neglect and abuse in the United States. One “developed” nation carries the burden of 1,760 precious bodies, piled high polluting boundaries between stressful parenthood and silent genocide.

It’s so important that we sit up, late if we have to, and take responsibility for our actions, take painstaking responsibility for moments of electric passion,

It’s time we sit humbly at God’s feet take a second and third look at our interactions with the fragile, logic defying angels entrusted to us.

Because it’s ALIVE! It glares grotesquely even into the least expectant face. “perfect parents” on the outside beat and bruise their children from the inside, crushing their hearts with emotional attacks, declarations of worthlessness, indifference to quickly maturing feelings clipped before the rosebuds have a chance to open.

IT’S ALIVE!
Heartbroken, muscles sprung, hell bent, the beast, dialogue writ in Shelley’s art, unloved, forsaken, life forgone, “I, the miserable and abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on.”

Bumper Cars

Globe, let me tell you a story. Yes, now would be the time to curl up in a blanket and get some milk and cookies. Once upon a time, Mma, a friend of mine, enlisted my help for the creation of a music video for a friend currently serving an LDS mission in Belize.Well, I belize he's in Belize, but sometimes I get confused about these kinds of things. I know you know what I mean, you forgetful globe you. This music video is going to be freaking epic and will be on Youtube and my blog soon for all to enjoy. The epic-est part of the whole thing is that I didn't think it was possible to do the things that we're doing for this project. Video making is like voodoo magic. Quite frankly I didn't think it was real. I figured only mystical and mostly fictional witches did most of the creating for us to enjoy, but it turns our any ol' person can do it as long as they have a lock of hair and a needle. So upon this oncely time, I got into my vehicle (pictured above) and took a drive down the road to Mma's aunt's house for filming. I was dressed all nice in a suit and tie and had my dads old missionary tag on to make everything legitimate. Blocks from my house, ten or so feet down Moapa Valley Boulevard, a small family of lost and confused tourists decided to make a speedy U turn from the right curb without looking to see if anyone was coming. To their defense, our quaint little town is not very crowded and at a hundred other times, they wouldn't have hit anyone, but this time, I was, in spite of my defensive swerve into the left turn lane, hit. And we all lived car-less ever after, the end.

Wasn't that a nice story! No NO NO! you're not supposed to actually answer that, 1) it's a rhetorical question and 2) I didn't even put a question mark. How long have you been reading? (yes, answer that one. it's the reader question of the day! if you don't answer it in the comment section below, your true love crush won't love you like ever and tomorrow you'll miss out on a chance of a lifetime and in seven days a bunch of retired politicians will decide to do a Boston Tea Party re-enactment in your living room and they'll use really hard staining tea that you won't be able to get out, so you'll call stanley steamer and they'll come down and their equipment will break, not because they can't get every stain known to man out, but because they were just due for new equipment but they'll have to fill out the proper paperwork for the damage and someone will draw a funny picture on the back and fax it to their buddy and they'll send it to everyone they know and one of them will be a lobbyist who will start a lobbying scheme to change the way people clean their homes and when congress passes it a billion million dollar earmarks will be underwritten and a million people will start protests asking their congressmen and women to be bored out of their mind reading it and this time they actually will and the government will lose the ability to act at all because they'll spend all of their time reading thousands of pages of legal jargon which they will have to look up in a dictionary and right when America is at it's weakest, we'll be attacked by terrorists and the president will freak out and nuke a bunch of countries that he personally blames and the whole world will be pulled into a nuclear holocaust culminating in the extinction of the human race)

I also had a vision. See, one thing I really enjoyed in high school was speech and debate, and i was pretty swell at it and I think what i want to do with my life is use spoken word to change really big things. Wouldn't that be cool? I think it would be.

Well have a cool day,

So Short.

White Power

For too long we’ve been pretending, misleading, misunderstanding, representing missing makeup making marks remarking fantasies to equalize the genome playing fielders fielding questioning to painters painting pictures of a fallacied reality of something, something that we wish we wished we were non-fiction, but it’s time we changed our vision and our diction for our grandchildren.
It’s time we got our heads on straight and martyred our regretter, who are we kidding? we’ll be asking of course, whites do it better.

One word, word: sports. Two words: Michael Phelp. To find a better Mr. Athlete you are gonna need some help. To find a whiter woman’s baby, well, I’m sure you’ll find one somewhere but the point is he’s a white boy and with white enough to share. “white boys can’t jump” well they can truly swim and dive, and you know affirming action is what keeps other jumps alive.

On to music: Rap? Come on now! Can’t you listen? We white folk beat all those others long ago with Eministen, or whatever that guy’s name is you know sometimes I forget, I guess a white guys got so much that that can happen some I bet. The point is, Mozart’s white and so was Mj and Beethoven. They pretty much invented music or at least where music’s droven.

On to other things important, like politics and living, did you know that 92% of leaders are white and proud of giving? They’re the best at writing laws that build up stock and build up debt. They keep the whole free market system that we live in, don’t forget. To speak of living, we’re outnumbered by the Asians in the east, but even so, we found the coolest places for livin in at least.

Whites make more money, harvest honey, speak so funny, soak up sunny, and you know what I don’t care about the burn I got last week, at least I didn’t tan, you know tanning makes you weak. White people are the greatest! We can build! WE CAN DESTROY! We’ll create a new society of loveliness and joy. We can rid ourselves of inefficient bumps along the chain. Change global atmospheric pressure, on other nations make it rain. We have saved and changed those babies in the lands of far away, so we’ll develop there economies and teach them how to pray.

White! We do what’s right! and White! How dare the queen of hearts paint all our precious roses red? White! We’ll ever fight! and White! It may be time we paint the roses while all others fall down dead. But White! We’ll just forget em cause we’re the greatest at that too for White! we’ll paint the sky to cover every other hue. The green, no, call it whitehouse will trap the sun and rid the night. We’ll pave the acres of other colors with our preciuous purest white!

Heil White! Go White! Read White! Feed White! Need White! Seed White! Bleed White! Because for too long we’ve been giving too much to other races right?

Some Concerning Matters

Folks, the world is full of them. No, I'm not talking about apathetic zombies of the pseudo-totalitarian state. I'm not referring to Asians either although the world is indeed full of those and I am hence deeply concerned.But alas, I'm here to talk about matters. Matters matter. The'res no doubt about that. From little matters like tsunamis and bloodthirsty dictatorial regimes, to huge, all encompassing matters like mismatched socks on fashion illiterate fascists and waves too narly for Asian surfers, matters concern me. I think this is because I'm an empathetically engaged citizen with such deep connections to my fellow globe dwellers. This is why I feel an undeniable need to sit in my comfy chair and vigorously blog about these matters in a way that maybe the eight (that's right, I said eight! :)) lovely individuals who regularly read me, might step back and begin to be concerned with a fraction of the concern I feel daily for the matters that are concerning. Let's begin.

Globe, Jesse J's hit single "Pricetag", in which she, with help, repeatedly declares her lack of care for our money and her desire to make the a world that has spun generally the same way for millions of years dance, is being sold on iTunes for 30 cents more than 99 cents. Last time I checked, that's $1.29 that we're supposed to pretend doesn't matter. This matter matters. There are children in some less fortunate countries that can't even afford an iPod. They may never know about the clearly pertinent lesson taught that "it's not about the bling" or the "ching" And my question also is: What, then, is it about?

World, somewhere in thine wide expanses, some amateur musician and a friend of the same race is playing and singing Micheal Jackson and Paul McCartney's song "Ebony and Ivory" in the key of C. With no sharps of flats, they won't even touch the black keys. When will the madness stop?

Friends, in Israel, there are no hockey moms. Sarah Palin, who has a special place in her heart for that part of the globe, and I are ashamed. That's why, starting now, I'm starting a new mostly non profit organization which I call "Ice Rinks For Israel", IRFI for short, which will provide this basic human right to those poor, poor Israelis. You should donate to the cause out of your personal health care budget. There's no reason natural or governmental causes should force you to be healthy. That's just not right. In fact, it's left.

I have to wake up at 9:30 tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if I can make it.

In my wildest dream, my brother drove us off a million foot cliff. Now I'm afraid of shooting stars and birthday candles.

Math. Oooh. now that's a concerning matter. I don't even think I want to talk about it.

Well people, (when I type that word, I have to say "peee-aw-po-lee" in my head so I spell it right) that's about all my concerns at the moment minus the fact that I have to work soon and I have a feeling that won't be the funnest thing ever. I do have a feeling however, that the funnest thing that has ever happened to you will happen very soon.

On those happy thoughts, I bid thee goodnight.