Shoes

“[T]he puppies were using him as a food source”

Puppies maul abandoned cancer patient.

Maximum Clonage

That thing in the news earlier this week about the cloned puppies?

Turns out the woman who contracted the clones of her beloved pet has a dark secret in her past.

Bernann McKinney has admitted that she is Joyce McKinney, who thirty one years ago was charged with kidnapping a Mormon missionary and using him as her personal sex slave.  McKinney denies the charges, which she’s avoided for the past few decades after jumping bail.

She claims that woman does not exist, says that she is innocent and that “I don’t want that garbage in with the puppy story.”

“I didn’t rape no 300-pound man.  He was built like a Green Bay Packer.”

She was also arrested in 1984 for stalking the Mormon man’s workplace.  Rope and handcuffs were found in her car, along with detailed notes on the man.  She disappeared before her trial and the case was dismissed.

According to a clerk in McKinney’s hometown, she’s been a frequent defendant in several cases.  Charges include passing bad checks, threatening another woman, assault on public officials and animal cruelty.

And she passed herself off as a screenwriter while in South Korea to procure the services of the cloning company.

This lady ain’t that bright.

Reflection

I’m on an island. It’s tropical. Palm trees. Clean, sandy beach. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than the ocean from where I’m standing right now. I’m not alone. I know these people, but I don’t. We’ve been here a while, but I can’t remember how long.

All of the sudden, I’m on a ship. There’s another, about the same size heading towards the island. It’s going to pick up the other people. We were stranded or marooned or something, I guess. The ship I’m on… I don’t know what we’re doing, where we’re going. Something about getting help?

There’s something wrong on the other ship. The fuel’s out or they’ve lost control? I can’t tell. I’m standing on their bridge, but at the same time, I haven’t the vessel. None of the crew can see me. They’re going to run aground on the island. There’s a radio nearby. I can hear the distress call.

Our ship’s out in the open sea now. A storm’s come in and the rest of the rescue fleet was caught in it. Huge waves crashed over them. All of them. It’s impossible anyone survived.

Except that when we reach their position, the other boats and their crews are suspended in midair. The boats pouring water back into the ocean, the men frozen, arms posed as if struggling for the surface, faces contorted, desperate for air.

I can’t even process what I’m witnessing before the men and ships begin… rewinding would be the best way to describe it. I squint and I can see salt water spewing from their mouths, forced from their lungs. The ships right themselves and when those are steady and secure, the crew returned to them.

I should be happy. These people came to rescue us. To help us. They don’t deserve to die. But I’m terrified.

Because of him.

In a flash, I’m home. I’ve stepped out of the shower and I’m toweling off. My hair is still wet and hanging in my face so I push it back, catching my reflection in the mirror.

But it’s not my face that I see staring back.

The face is older, maybe twenty years older, angry and bald. I scramble to dress and then I run. I bolt out the door, looking back, knowing I shouldn’t.

I can’t see anyone behind me and I pause for a moment.

Through a window, I catch him moving. I don’t know how he got there, but I know I have to run.

I vault over the fence, sprinting through the neighbor’s yard and over the next fence.

It doesn’t matter.

He’s right behind me.

I can feel him.

And he’s taunting me. His voice is in my head.

I’m scared.

I can’t fight him.

He’s going to catch me.

His fingers aren’t even an inch from my throat…

…I wake with a start, gasping for breath and afraid of my reflection for a few moments.

Chicken Taco Bake… Thingie…

It’s actually pretty simple. You only need a few ingredients and less than an hour (way less, depending on the rice you use).

Ingredients

-One pound boneless, skinless chicken breast (Or vegetarian substitute. I think I used MorningStar Farms NotChicken.)
-One 12 oz. can of corn
-One 12 oz. can tomato sauce
-One package taco seasoning (I use normal or mild ’cause I hate spicy food, but whatever’s your bag..)
-4 cups rice (prepared)
-Cheese (Cheddar, colby jack or your choice.)

First off, cook the rice. Last time, I used this organic brown rice, which was great, but it takes an hour or so to cook. You can use plain instant white rice. While that’s cooking, brown your (Not)chicken in a separate pan. Best bet is to cook it just a little less than normal, for reasons I’ll get to in a minute.

Once your rice and chicken are ready, add everything except the cheese into the pot with the rice. (You can use a separate bowl if you’d like, but I prefer to do less dishes.) Mix well, you don’t want pockets of taco seasoning surprising you when you dig in. Also– do not drain the corn. You need the water from the corn along with the tomato sauce to mix with the seasoning and to keep the dish itself from drying out.

Put it all into a baking dish (The Pyrex 8×12 deals. Should be two inches or so deep.) and add shredded cheese. Bake at 325 degrees for fifteen minutes or so. Keep an eye on it! The oven’s mostly just to get everything heated up and melting the cheese.

That’s it! Remove and enjoy.

——-

Variations

I’ve cooked this dish so many different ways, I thought I’d toss out a few of those suggestions as well.

-Marinate the chicken in tequila and lime juice overnight. When you cook the chicken, add the marinade to the pan.
-Toss a bit of lime juice and cilantro into the rice.
-Wrap it up in a tortilla shell or add crumbled tortilla chips before you bake it.

BET Shoots For The Geek Audience

Ugh. Really? This is what you want to promote, Marvel?

I’m Still Not At Comic-Con II

To make matters worse, the majority of Twitter updates I’m getting are from people in San Diego.  It’s horribly depressing.

Nerd Prom

Even CNN is rubbing SDCC in my face.

R.I.P. Estelle Getty

Estelle Getty died this morning.

Yes, I realize that I’m twenty six years old and writing about one of the Golden Girls.

It’s probably silly, but she always reminded me of my grandmother, who died of cancer years ago.

“I hold a PhD in horribleness.”

If you haven’t been watching Dr. Horrible, get on it.

Like now.

It’s funny and bizarre and romantic.  It’s also one of the few musicals I enjoy.  (The others that I can think of are Monty Python’s Spam-A-Lot and Joss Whedon‘s previous musical venture, Once More With Feeling, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer‘s infamous sixth season.)

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog was born out of Whedon’s frustration with the WGA strike earlier this year.  The goal of the project was to create something inexpensive and enjoyable that circumvented the Guild rules.

I’d say he succeeded.

All three acts are up right now.  Take a bit (the entire thing is only forty five minutes) and watch them all.  They’ll only be up through tomorrow (the twentieth of July) and if you don’t catch them by then, you’ll have to wait for the DVD.

The DVD, by the way, will contain “amazing extras.”  Dr. Horrible is also available on iTunes, probably only through tomorrow as well, but I’m not certain.