Kim Kardashian's Big Booty Bolognese

Dear Reader,

I have not been very good at keeping up with the Kardashians.  However, I am aware that Kim, the doyenne of that domicile, has decided to go completely silent on Twitter (No no no!  Tell me this isn't true!) in order to raise money or something for kids or something.  I offer Kim, and you, something to fill the time.  Enjoy.

Kim Kardashian's Big Booty Bolognese

You will need:

Butter
Olive oil
Bacon
1 lb. ground beef
1 onion, chopped
1 carrot, grated
1 book, opened
1 stick celery, chopped
White wine
1 cup milk
1 large can whole plum tomatoes
Sofa

Melt butter in a large pan with olive oil, and add beef to brown. Toss in chopped bacon.  If you don't have any bacon, call Khloe, she has some.  Bible.  Sizzle it up till it's smokin' hot like your booty.  Add onion, carrot, and celery.  While that cooks, think of ways to fill your time now that you aren't on Twitter anymore.  How about Facebooking?  Or here's a riddle - what did people do before there was twitter and stuff like that?  Read books!  Read a book, Kim.  I have a suggestion - Flaubert.  It sorta sounds like flatulence or something that comes from your booty anyway, like, "OMG Kourtney, did you see the size of that flaubert I just dropped in the toilet?  Jeez!"  Read the book.  Tear the white wine out of your mother's clenched fist, and pour some into the pot, about a cupful.  When that has simmered away, pour in the milk and let it simmer as well.  Now is the time to flip the cushions on the sofa, so that each one gets the same amount of wear and tear from your booty.  When the milk has been absorbed, add in the tomatoes in their juice.  Break the tomatoes up with your hands.  Do not use your butt cheeks to break up the tomatoes, even though they are stronger than your hands.  Fecal matter will contaminate the sauce.  Let sauce simmer for one hour and serve over spaghetti.

Bright Star, oh, whatever.

Dear Reader,

I apologize for my extended absence.  Blame it on Keats.  Recently I watched Jane Campion's amazing film Bright Star.  I like Jane Campion because she reminds me of my grandmother.  Years ago, when I saw Shindler's List, I called my grandmother afterward, because her family was from very near Krakow.  She called the following evening to tell me she had been to see Jane's Campion's The Piano.  I asked how she liked it.  "Well, I'll tell you something," she began, "I've seen two naked men in my life.  Your grandfather, and Harvey Keitel."

Bright Star was really good - kind of like a tubercular Twilight.  I don't know if actor Ben Whishaw looks much like Keats, but that's probably a good thing.  See?

Nice curls, John.

Honestly, who cares if you are coughing up jellyfish from your lungs when you look like this?

My problem is, you see, that John Keats died when he was twenty-five.  It got me thinking, if Keats had access to Facebook, and Twitter, and had busied himself trying to write silly recipes, would he ever have written Ode on a Grecian Urn?  And if he hadn't done that, my freshman English professor wouldn't have written a whole book on Keats that he could quote from day after day (after day) in a drunken snarl.  So I thought, as I am trying to work on What Comes Next, that I would put aside these distractions.  After all, I am almost twenty-five myself.  But alas, no odes have I written.  So there you have it.

Gitmo Gazpacho

Dear Reader,


A lot of people, even the ones that voted for him, are upset with Barack Obama these days.  They say he has not lived up to his campaign promises, and that nothing has changed.  Well, that may be true, and even considering that it takes a lot of time to change the world, people are frustrated.  However, I imagine that few are as frustrated as the denizens of a certain hell hole in Cuba.  In their honor I offer this tasty treat!  Enjoy!

Gitmo Gazpacho

You will need:

Sunscreen

3 beefsteak tomatoes, peeled and chopped

1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and chopped

1 red onion, diced

1/2 green pepper, diced

1/2 yellow pepper, diced

Attorney

2 clove garlic, minced

2 cups tomato juice, chilled

2 cups cold water

3 Tbs. red wine vinegar

1 Tbs. lemon juice

1 Tbs. lime juice

1/4 cup olive oil

2 Tbs. tomato paste

Dog biscuits

Begin by combining all ingredients except olive oil and tomato paste in food processor.  Pulse until mixture is chunky - not a smooth puree.  At least that's what you would do if you weren't chained to a wall in a hole in Cuba, surrounded by barking dogs with a hood over your head.  Remember Gazpacho Night in the eating club when you were a Student at Stanford.  Those were the good old days.  Wish like hell that you had just taken the job with Morgan Stanley and not chosen to do humanitarian work in Afghanistan.  Wish also that you hadn't told the villagers you could help them build an infrastructure in their remote cave.  Idiot!

Try to call out to guard.  "Lisa!  Lisa!"  When Lisa arrives, tell her that you want to make gazpacho.  Explain patiently that it is a soup, a cold soup, and not a chemical weapon.  Tell her to ask Pedro.  He'll know what you mean.  Try not to get angry when Lisa laughs at you and takes your picture to put on her Facebook page.

After you feel that three days have passed, call for the other guard.  "Stephanie!  Stephanie!"  Ask to see a lawyer.  When her laughter dies down, explain to her that you are a lawyer and you know your rights.  When she leaves, try not to be too downhearted.  If Obama ever gets to work, you'll be strolling on a golf course in Bermuda.  But make no mistake, it's going to be a long haul, especially for you, Saddam Mohammed Peterson.