Starting to feel like ninety one thousand damn degrees outside? We got you. Chill the fuck out with a big ass cup of this tropical treat. All you need are five fucking ingredients and a blender. You should be able to handle that shit even if it feels like the world is melting.
PIÑA COLADA ICE CREAM
Makes about 1 ½ pints, enough for 2-3 sweaty motherfuckers
3 cups of frozen pineapple*
1 frozen banana, broken into chunks
1 ½ cups canned coconut milk
1 tablespoon liquid sweetener like agave or maple syrup, whatever you got
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Throw everything in a blender and run that shit until it’s all smooth. Pour it into a loaf pan or similar shaped container and smooth it all around so it’s even. Don’t go freezing some uneven chunky bullshit and waste everybody’s time.
Cover and place in the motherfucking freezer until it is nice and solid, at least 5 hours depending on how shitty your freezer is. You know what the fuck you should do with ice cream after that. This is best eaten the first day or two after it’s made because it can get harder to scoop the longer it sits. But no doubt you or your roommates will get after it long before then.
*about one 16 ounce bag
Why do police have quotas? If a doctor went around intentionally sneezing on people to get more patients, that would be seen as a travesty to their profession. But police, can sit around and wait for someone to turn on a red light or commit other mundane ‘offenses’ because they have quotas to meet. Quotas are all the proof we need that policing is not a public service vocation; it’s a business and a subsidiary of Wall Street.
My summer plans.
And now, it’s time for questions I get asked entirely too often:
"Why are you still ‘sick?’"
“Stress. Copious amounts of non-stop unmitigated stress. Stress that’s so horrid and all encompassing that my body’s ability to heal one iota faster is significantly compromised. I can sit here and say that literally the only reason that my body is still struggling to heal is the unfathomable amounts of stress I’ve been enduring for the past decade.”
"What do YOU have to be stressed about?"
Go fuck yourself.
"Why don’t you try meditation/relaxing/being less stressed/medication?"
1. I do meditate. Daily. It helps. I could be doing so, so, SO much worse than I am right now.
2. People who tell other people to relax make people who know they need to relax and still can’t want to punch them.
3. Being less stressed would be lovely, why oh why didn’t think of that.
4. My body reacts bizarrely to medication so even if I were interested in medicating myself into an induced state of “relaxation” there’s a solid chance it would just make me sick in a new way and that would, in turn, add to the stress in my life.
"Seriously, what do you have to be stressed out about?"
Sick animals, dying animals, a stalker, health problems… And that’s the understated tip of the iceberg. (I assure you, it would take hours to explain everything. I know because I’ve tried. My best time so far is two hours.)
"You know, if you weren’t vegan, you’d heal faster."
That’s not a question. But, I’ll indulge you.
A few years ago I did actually almost die. My body was so deficient in certain vital nutrients (due to the ineptitude of a few doctors) that my medical tests came back with results that actually astounded the man explaining them to me.
He read them to me and then explained that he’d never met anyone in decades of practice with numbers like mine that weren’t lying in a hospital dying.
He checked my heart multiple times and then explained that my numbers implied I would benefit from a blood transfusion and hospitalization but, curiously enough, my vital signs said otherwise. It was up to me.
I despise hospitals on the healthiest, happiest day of my life and I’m more than a little frightened of them so I declined politely and fervently hoped that I hadn’t made the wrong choice. I went home and immediately focused all my remaining energy on healing. But I digress…
Basically, the only thing I did to not die was eat plants, stay in bed and take supplements and vitamins.
The moral of that particular story being that I’m not dead so I think I’m in the clear on the whole vegan thing.
"How come you aren’t driving?" OR "How come you don’t drive as often as you used to?"
Because I still occasionally become so dizzy or light-headed that driving would be unsafe. I miss driving like a phantom limb but right now it’s not a rational option.
"Why do you still become dizzy so easily?"
It’s not that easy anymore. Thank God. I used to get dizzy from standing up or sitting down too quickly. I used to get dizzy from a car turning too quickly. It used to be nearly unbearable for me to move.
Now, it’s a matter of accidentally moving too quickly or twisting my head at the wrong angle. It’s nothing in comparison to what it once was but it’s still not a condition I feel safe driving with. At all.
"Do you miss driving?"
"How come you stopped discussing _____ on Twitter?"
Please keep in mind that a small but bizarrely dedicated group of people really hate me and they’re really committed to hating me and everything I say, do and love.
As someone who believes that thoughts are things and that energy can be sent to someone via thoughts I’ve found that at the present time I’m better off if I limit the amount of exposure I give to the little bubble I try to keep my life contained within.
Here’s an example of why I do this:
A few years ago I took a photo of one of my doggies. It was adorable and I decided to use it as my profile picture on various forms of social media.
Within one day the doggie almost choked to death on a carrot. The next morning the doggie was almost crushed by a stack of boxes. By the end of the day I realized that all the hate that was typically sent my way was now being focused on my doggie.
The picture was removed and replaced with the letter “S.” the doggie’s unusual run of bad luck ended quite abruptly.
That’s why I try to only share as much as I feel comfortable risking in the realm of public consumption.
"Think you’ll ever get better?"
That’s the plan…
theres a giant burning orb in the sky and it can burn your flesh, it can give you diseases, it can kill you, looking directly at it causes physical pain, and we all think this is okay. we like this orb. we like to go outside and lie around on our backs when this orb is in the sky. children draw cute pictures of this levitating death orb with a smiley face on it. what is wrong with us
There always seems to be something upsetting you. You should relax more. It’s not that there’s nothing coming to get you, there’s everything coming to get you… but relax anyway, just on principle. Just lie down and look up at the ceiling – a ceiling on which you can see nothing skittering, even though there is something skittering, there are so many skittering creatures on your ceiling, but forget that. Lie down and look up at the ceiling and breathe with those curiously fragile lungs of yours and remind yourself: Don’t worry. Don’t worry. All is as it was meant to be. It was meant to be lonely and terrifying and unfair and heaving. Don’t worry.
As a child, Elsa Peretti visited Santa Maria della Concezione, a church in Rome. Mesmerized by the ossuary in its Capuchin Crypt, she returned home with a bone in her pocket, much to her mother’s dismay. But Peretti found it lovely, not macabre. It was the inspiration that would later be translated into the Bone cuff—beautiful, bold and sculptural.