Ian Pike noon, Dec. 13
Had a fascinating job interview the other day out in the material world. The in-person part was quick and painless, took about ten minutes of my day. More fun was the "assignment" portion of the 'view. Basically, the nightclub in question is looking to raise the level of their bar food to compete with their trendy nightclub neighbors. "Email me what you'd put on the menu" the chef said to me. What fun! Last night I sent her three bomb diggity salad ideas, three of my best notions for cheap and easy appetizers, and three sandwich offerings. I am perhaps most proud of my "Sloppy Joe" (ground lamb in a light tomato curry with crispy fried onions served on a toasted bulkie roll) and a nice pizzetta e fichi (white pizza with ricotta cheese, sage infused EVOO, and fresh figs). Cross yer fingers for me!
Onward to more normal blogging and the awarding of a the second most coveted award on the whole interwebs, the daily Runner-Up:
"So, I'm no longer running my black market kidney business and I have no need of these coolers. Also have thermos for rush jobs." Really, I can see no other need for having so many coolers, call my scope limited if you must, but black market kidneys just seems the only logical explanation. Since I don't feel like writing a story about some sort of urban kidney burglar, I will award the Ultimate Prize to:
It's Dracula's private home organ! What's not to love about the visual of Vlad ticking the ivories in a Normal Heights living room? He probably pops down to Lestat's every now and again for a latte and a bit of complaining that "people always get him wrong," to which the clerks at the coffee shop most likely pay little heed.
Poor, misunderstood vampire, left all alone in a world that only vaguely recognizes him as a cause for fright and terror. Once, his name was synonymous with fear. These days, he plays second fiddle to H1N1 and Facebook stalkers. What's a vampire to do in the modern world?
Rather than adapt, Vlad spends his days in relative isolation, listening to Joy Division and nursing a terrible caffeine addiction. Why should he move away from what he knows? Shadows and darkness have always been his place. He does not belong in the bright world of today, where his nefarious deeds are the stuff of legend and nobody really believes that there's anything to fear out there, in the darkness, beyond the point of reason. No, all Dracula can do is take himself into self-imposed isolation--he rarely even stalks the night to feed, these days--curbing the bloodlust with cup after cup of French Roast.
We miss you sometimes, Vlad. You brought the fear of darkness out of the depths of the mind and into reality. No one ever had his finger on the scared and fleeting pulse of the world quite like you did. If blood must be shed (and sometimes it seems like that's the case, doesn't it?) then who better to shed it than you? You let fear be mythic, rather than pragmatic, which is something we we miss these days, having banished all the old nightmares.
Won't you come back, Vlad, and put on one more show?