Bigger Stronger Me.

I had a dream that I was the strongest woman alive. 

The Right Snuff'.

They told me that he was in a bad mood and that I shouldn't wake him. I did anyway. He was glad to see me. He held me and I was straightaway pulled from my unhappiness. With him I am relieved of all heaviness.

 Snuffleupagus is my religion. 

Ear Infection.

What better way to cure an earache than with a tiny, extra-long tube sock? 

Simply insert sock as far as possible into your ear canal, allow puss and earwax to build around it over time [preferably at least seven hours], finally, yank it out and PRESTO! No more painful infection!








And, hello there. Sorry I've been gone for so long. [Here now.] xx-enp 

I'm Still, Still here. [But I've been around.]

In the last seven months I have slept in Trondheim, Oslo, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, London, Palolem, Hampi, Kopol, Agonda, Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Sarawak, Phuket, Koh Phi Phi, and Koh Lanta, just to name a few.

Of the eight countries I've visited, India and Thailand have produced the more colourful and interesting dreams, Hungary's produced the least amount -likely due to excessive drinking- but also the funniest, Malaysia and Czech Republic the most stressful, UK the most basic, and Norway and Austria the most, well, sexy {?}.

     Though I've been rather lax in internet-ing, I've been drawing and writing like a  mad woman. And perhaps eventually I'll get my hands on a scanner and get back into some regularity? Until then, this tiny, poor-quality iPhone picture of a painting I did a month ago will have to suffice.

Alas, I'm still here, again, and though I don't make much time for technology these days, I'm building up stockpiles of inspiration and having the time of my bloody life. X-e      

I'm Still Here.

I've been preparing for an eleven month international adventure and, suffice to say, have been feeling rather drained and non-creative. I've been having some funny dreams though-- Michael Jordan came into my bar and ordered mouthwash, just as one example-- and anyway, I'll get to creating soon. If it's actually been bothering anyone, I'm sorry for the irregularity.

Dream on, 

enp. x. 

Chocolate Shrimp Cake!

Requires

• 1 3/4 cups unbleached flour
• 2 cups sugar
• 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder 
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 big brown eggs
• 1 cup strong brewed black coffee
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon fish sauce
• 1 teaspoon sriracha cock sauce
• 13 cooked/peeled shrimp
• 
  

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour two 9 inch round cake pans or one 9x13 inch pan.
2. In large bowl combine flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Make a well in the center.
3. Add eggs, coffee, buttermilk, oil, vanilla, fish sauce, and sriracha. Beat for 2 minutes on medium speed. Batter will be thin. Next gently fold 10 shrimp into the batter. Pour into prepared pans. Finally, float remaining 3 shrimp on the surface of one prepared pan of batter.
4. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 30 to 40 minutes, or until toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean. If exposed shrimp begins to burn, gently wrap with tin foil. Cool for 10 minutes, then remove from pans and finish cooling on a wire rack. Fill and frost as desired. Enjoy!

*Original cake-spiration courtesy of Marsha's "Black Magic Cake" which can be found at AllRecipes.com. 

TEETH!

Dedicated to all the teeth dreams I've had over the years.

Alfred E. Newman's always owned 'em, why shouldn't I?

New Zealand & Swimming Monks.

I climbed a mountain in New Zealand to find this:

The most vivid, surreal valley imaginable. It was slightly monet-ish with a sort of blurred multidimensionality. There were also swimming monks. I gathered that their mediation centered around constant swimming, as the water acted as a sort of spiritual enhancer. Trippy, right? I've never been to NZ, is this what I should expect? Hope so, that'd be rad.  

Adam Sandler Gives Birth.

My sincere apologies.

On the bright side, his newborn biracial (Jewish/African) baby girl is absolutely perfect. She doesn't look a thing like her father and I have a feeling she'll go on to do incredible things. And I don't mean "Billy Madison". 'Nuff said. 

And again, I'm really sorry about the visual.  

Bad Dog. [Or, The Day Our Chihuahua Was Arrested.]

She's usually such an angel. . .

I'm not sure where we went wrong?

And I'm still not sure what she did? Drunk Driving? Illegal gambling ring? Excessive tail wagging due to drug use? Licking without consent? She certainly has a lot of explaining to do.  

Artists For Sale. [The King Lives.]

A once in a lifetime, super private, super ridiculous, badass show:

For a measly thousand bucks you can vend yourself one of the greats. After much consideration I chose Elvis. And along with a spectacular performance I received a handful of authentically gold, gold rings and a silk sash with some jeweled accents. It was pretty fucking awesome.   

Toenail Clipper.

I can tell you from firsthand experience that it's pretty cool when your toenail clippings turn into butterflies right before your eyes. 

Aliens.

Electro-line-neon space crafty. [They're here.]

Hot Tub Time Machine.

A few of the gays and I hot-tubbed whilst sipping sparkling wine and popping expired prenatal vitamins. 

...I dunno. Don't ask.

What's In The Box?

Your guess is as good as mine. 

 "I was walking down the street trying to catch up to some friends when I dropped something & it fell into a gutter. When I bent over to retrieve it, I saw that there were other 'valuable' looking things stuck in there. I got my thing first -not sure what it was, I remember it being the color red- Then I grabbed:
1. Cash wad. Approx. 13-14 dollars. 2. U.S. passport. [whose I dunno.] [didn't look.] 3. Sparkling silver ballet flats. One size too big, but I put them on anyway. 4. A small, ornate box. Expensive looking. I lightly shook it, but didn't open it. Though I know something was inside, I have no idea what it was? SO– WHOSE PASSPORT WAS IT? AND WHAT WAS IN THE BOX!?!?"

Any ideas?

Mile High 'Clubbed': A Transnational Battle Royale.

1. A usual flight, until, "attention passengers, momentarily we will be conducting a Battle Royale. Your participation is required. Thank you in advance for cooperating." 

2. A Flight Attendant separated all the passengers into two groups. The stripes were given samurai swords and the solids were given daggers. 

3. We were all a bit apprehensive.   

4. Reluctance aside, I went in to battle. 

5. It got a little messy but the solids were easily defeated-- turns out I have mad samurai skills. 

6. After all was lost for the solids, the stripes were given refreshments and told that our flight would be landing shortly. I felt like a real badass. Nobody messes with the stripes! 

The Poisonous Botany.

I fell asleep after reading Amy Stewart's Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother & Other Botanical Atrocities and all night long my dreams were overwhelmed by Stewart's interesting shrubs, trees, flowers, etc. 

*If you've ever wanted to know how to nix someone (with plants), make them hallucinate (with plants), or, just give them really bad diarrhea (with, you guessed it, plants) then I recommend reading this book.

Really!?

Draw, paint, scribble, scratch, and carve it, but never try to dissect, it'll just get messy. And I won't make anything up either, otherwise things might start to look like this:

[Not a Dream. Also, more of a cloak than a coat.]

Maybe I'm crazy? Or, maybe I just have really great dreams? I dunno. Regardless I'm having a nice time recording them, so, the project shall continue. 

Ce n'est pas l'extrémité. It is not the end.

Librarium.

A swim-flying adventure. No water, just books and fish. 

(delightful.)

He's a Deep Sea Diver.

"With a stroke that can't go wrong." (And a new wetsuit too.)

I had to drink 300 glasses to get him out.