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Ink 19 :: El Mortigi Tempo :: Real and Unreal, Part Two Real and Unreal, Part Two El Mortigi Tempo Real and Unreal, Part Four Real and Unreal, Part Three Real and Unreal, Part Two More El Mortigi Tempo... 3. "Wake up! It is half past ten," yelled Z. "You are soaking in sweat. What in the world were you dreaming about?" "Uh, nothing really," mumbled Perry. "I have to go bathe, and get out of these clothes. My train leaves at 3 today." "Good morning," seductively smiled the Whore, as we shall refer to Marcella now. Perry stared at the Whore, then retreated to the bathroom for a warm shower. As the water drizzled on him, Perry could only think of his dream. Who was Estella, and what did she want from him? Some people believe in the concept of astral worlds and other dimensions that cannot be described using our 5 senses. Supposedly, a soul is encased in several layers, one of which is the human body. After our death, the body is released from the soul, and we become astral beings. While in our human state we need oxygen to survive, in our astral bodies we need the lifetronic force, light, to keep us alive. Light. Astral worlds are nothing like the transient physical world, for they are filled with colors never seen before, and everything is so pure and beautiful. In the astral dimension, beauty is not judged by the way one looks, but rather the radiating love that is present inside of them. The friends and family we had on earth are present in the astral world, thus proving that the power of friendship and unconditional love is eternal. Astral beings are able to penetrate our physical world, but it takes a great amount of energy and time for humans to penetrate theirs. The easiest way for humans to contact astral beings is through dreams. The dead people who appear in our dreams exist; not as humans or anything we can touch or feel. They exist as a thought. It is a consciousness that prevails through space and time. How does one describe the mind and the thoughts we have? How do you quantitatively describe our consciousness? 4. The dream continued bothering Perry. He had come to Sheffield to spend some time with Z, but to his despair, he was no longer with L, and even worse, he was making love every night to the Whore. Z and the Whore walked Perry to the train station. "Goodbye, Z," said Perry in a solemn voice near the station's platform. "It was nice seeing you again," replied Z. "I hope that you will come visit again. Next time you should stay here a little longer than one night. I am hoping to try to find a job in London, so I'll let you know how things turn out." "It was nice meeting you," said Perry to the Whore. "Same here," replied the Whore. Perry got into the train, and realized how many things had changed about himself and about Z. He had always respected Z what he stood for. Here was a boy who taught himself how to play the keyboard and guitar, who had gotten drunk with the local vicar, and who had slept with the perfect girl in school. A boy who was going to be a rock star, scientist, and a politician. He had the ability to change the world- the person who people look up to generations after their death. He could have been the Gandhi, the Beatles, or the Bowie of his time. But now he was relegated to a little flat in Sheffield, working 9 to 6, five days a week for a pharmaceutical company, and living with a whore. I used to know this girl some years back who was the valedictorian of my high school. She lettered in swimming, track, cheerleading, and softball, and she was the county volunteer of the year for 3 years in a row. I used to sit in class and wonder if there were any imperfections in her. She seemed so unreal, yet she was so real. Teachers worshipped her, and she was hailed as the "most likely to succeed" and I was hailed as the "most likely to fail." She got accepted to Princeton University, but she dropped out during the middle of her freshman year after becoming pregnant. I haven't heard from her since, and I doubt that she is contributing to society in a way that people had once expected. I find it unfair of Perry to be disappointed in Z, but at the same time, Z was the leader. When the leader has fallen, and no one has assumed the responsibility of leading the way, the cause perishes. Perry was feeling that the cause had died when Z became ordinary. What hurt Perry and me is that Z had so much potential. He was so intelligent, witty, yet wise, and he had this powerful gaze when he looked at you which made him godlike. Looking into his eyes one could see years of wisdom and the wonderful future that was awaiting us. But like all my heroes, Z failed. Z became real for Perry's senses, and this became too unbearable for Perry to comprehend. 5. The train ride back to London was quite nauseating because the woman next to him was vomiting chunks of chicken in a plastic bag and two little children in the front were crying incessantly. He was trying to get some sleep, and these three idiots were making his life even more miserable than it was. "Hey you fucks," he yelled at the incessantly crying children. "Can't you shut up for a minute?" Petrified, the children retreated into their seats. The passengers next to him were astonished, but no one wanted to say anything for fear of instigating a fight. He had had a miserable week and had contemplated suicide, but he couldn't think of an interesting way to die. His business ventures in Japan and Malaysia had collapsed dramatically in the last week, and two days earlier Sarah, his daughter had just been diagnosed with Wilson's disease. He had spent the weekend in Manchester with Angelina, his mistress of 13 months. "I have been dreaming about you for days," he said. "I have been thinking about you for weeks, and I am glad I am in your arms again." "Do you think about me when you fuck Mary?" she replied. "Does she scream when you rhythmically ride her, and do you scream too, James?" Whenever he made love to Mary, she would scream whenever she had an orgasm, but Angelina never screamed. Screaming for Mary was a way to tell her husband that she loved him, and that he was pleasing her like no other. Angelina didn't scream for she wanted to be in control and power during lovemaking. Screaming is a sign that you are the victim, helpless and powerless. Women who are raped (or hate fucked) are oftentimes said to scream in hopes of grabbing someone's attention to convey that they are in pain and under attack. "Did you orgasm?" he had asked Angelina the night they made love in Brussels. "Why do you ask?" she replied. "You didn't scream," he responded. "You haven't screamed ever since we started making love." "Oh James, every woman is different," she said. "I am not Mary." He had met Mary when they were in business school at NYU. Both of them had grown up in England, James in Liverpool, and Mary in Manchester, but by fortune, or misfortune, they had met at NYU. Three years after graduation they got married in a small church in Manchester, and a year later, Sarah was born. They lived in a small flat in Manchester, about 15 minutes from Mary's parents, but eventually moved into a luxurious house when James started getting promotions at his job. Mary was an extravagant spender, and by the time James became senior executive of his company, Mary was throwing massive parties for so-called friends. "I don't know who you are anymore," he said to her one day. "I don't know the person who I married. You are not real to me anymore. You don't exist in my world." "I hate you James," she replied. "You are always wanting to control me. Well I am a person and I am real." She began to remove her clothes until she stood naked in front of him. "I am real," she cried as she pounded her chest. "Here, feel my tits," she said as she grabbed her breasts. "James, it is real. I exist. I am real, you stupid fuck." I can be contacted at mortigitempo@hotmail.com
MySpace Skin
Two Men with Fore Skin Explicit, Sexual, Controversial, Amusing - from Surrey, B.C., Canada Syndication www. flick r .com This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from transpondency2 . Make your own badge here . Call our Voicemail 206-202-5191 EMAIL US VOTE FOR US SUBURBAN TRANSPONDENCY Check me out! Friendly Podcasts: The Apocalypse Dowell Show Mick Aloha Adaventures Brace For Impact The Moon Masters Call US GIZMO Support The Show Websites Two Men With Fore Skin Enter your email address: A service provided by SmartGroups Rate our podcast Excellent! Very Good Good Fair Poor Visitors Podcasts We Listen To Daily Source Code The Dawn and Drew Show Distorted View Show Seduction & Strip Clubs Dave's Lounge We Sell A Tasty Life 5 Minutes with Witchita The Starkcast Dave Cusick's Post Modern Rock Show The PK and J Show Accident Hash Skepticality inoveryourhead CBC Radio 3 Out of the Past: investigating film noir what's in your iPod? email us your favorite podcasts twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com Archives Categories Prepubescent general podcasts Jul 2005 Aug 2005 Sep 2005 Oct 2005 Nov 2005 Dec 2005 Jan 2006 January 2006 S M T W T F S 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 Legal Stuff This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License . -- Wed, 11 January 2006 Surrey Perspective 04 special OUIJA edition first 20 mins: worth listening to second 20 mins: Ouija setup 10 mins: ouija attempt 1 20 mins: ouija attempt 2 last 15 mins: overview and sign off email: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com voicemail: 206-202-5191 thanks for participating in our occult experiment Direct download: -Podcast_2menw4skin_SP_04.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 1:21 AM Comments[0] Thu, 5 January 2006 Podmovie - The Hook Up extented coverage of The Hook Up continuation from episode 23 Featuring Professor Bestestes and 'Tea' at Blue Ridge Bar & Grill in Abbotsford Direct download: Vidcast_02_-_Blue_Ridge.mp4 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 2:28 AM Comments[0] Sat, 31 December 2005 Episode 23 - Magic Xmas Cookie! Post-Xmas Festivus Special back from holiday hiatus! "Foreskin in a Jar" by Lyrical Pranksters Festivus Dinner Party: Professor, Doctor L, Kitty, and Fleetwood Mac. Xmas Rap Up, Au Jus, Fleetwood Mac Flashback, 21 Seconds, Smance, Skippy, Fan email shout out. "C is for Cookie and Cannibalism" by Scott Walmsley Blue Ridge Grill in Abbotsford: Professor Bestestes with special guest "Tea" (from episode 11): The Hook Up follow along as Tea tries to hook up with a guy for holiday "get over" sex. download the upcoming video for a more in depth hook up converage email us: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com call us: 206-202-5191 vote for us: Podcast Alley Thank You and Good Night Direct download: Podcast_2menw4skin_23.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 7:51 PM Comments[2] Mon, 26 December 2005 Podmovie - Surrey Perspective Xmas Warning: This is our first attempt to create a video podcast version of our regular show. Its low quality and boring. The compression sucks. We hope you like it. Merry F#!&king Christmas! Direct download: Podmovie_01_SP.mp4 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 4:06 PM Comments[0] Sat, 10 December 2005 Episode 22 - Revenge of the SNiR! Stripper Night in Review seeks vengeance Ron Jeremy at Delaney's: the gang assembles outside the stripper bar where we are about to see the legendary Ron Jeremy. Dr Lickalottapus hears the rap challenge of the Professor Ron does some stand-up S tripper N ight i n R eview: honoring the Ron, movin' on up, The Rap Challenge, taking about sex drives, babies, and the new menstruation-$%&#!!.... The Doctor whips out his lightsaber and duels with the Professor! The Fleetwood Mack Flashback Everyone has AIDS SNiR part 2: the next night...Dr L and Prof B attempted to get an interview with Ron Jeremy, but failed. At least there was a hockey game on. Oh the sweet and the sour of shaking the hand of a porn celebrity. email: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com voicemail: 206-202-5191 check us out at myspace.com Transpondency Media & Greyish Blue vote for us at Podcast Alley Direct download: Podcast_2menw4skin_22.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 8:57 PM Comments[0] Sat, 3 December 2005 Episode 21 - Lick-a-Little! Xmas in Vancouver In The Car: Professor and the good Doctor discuss radio listener bashing, south asians against violence, its the most gothiest time of the year, shut the cowboy up Under the Skytrain: Kitty Korrosive, Doc L and Prof B not quite a midnight society...dorment volcano to the oldies, Professor gets political on marijuana/hemp and the collapse of the Canadian gov't, inspirational speech George Bush sings Sunday Bloody Sunday by RX Over the Gimzo: a capella Montel Jordan also we remember a great one-hit-wonder legend, Jimmy Ray Vote for the Show at Podcast Alley Feedback for the Show: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com Call the Show: 206-202-5191 Direct download: podcast_2menw4skin_21.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 12:27 AM Comments[2] Thu, 24 November 2005 Episode 20 - Roboshambo! Fog by Carl Sandburg Conversation at Jabez Coffee Bar: Prof. Bestestes, Dr. Lickalottapus, Kitty Korrosive, DJ Mouse, and Why Not Vancouver's DJ Situation Midnight Society Prof B, Kitty K, The Fleetwood Mac, iTodd use the herbal muse in the thick of the fog: Mr Noirisms, Supernatural TV show filmed here, Xbox 360, pissing in the bushes, roshamboing, rap off, etc podsafe music: Danger Doom "Mince Meat" email: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com voicemail: 260-202-5191 Direct download: Podcast_2menw4skin_20.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 10:15 PM Comments[0] Thu, 24 November 2005 Podmovie - Promo Two Men with Fore Skin video promo featuring the music of Annikan Slayd from Montreal annakinslayd.com Direct download: 2menw4skin-Promo.mov Category: podcasts -- posted at: 5:32 PM Comments[0] Thu, 17 November 2005 Episode 19 - Finger Forking Fresh! Controversy between Mick Aloha and Professor Bestestes Musical Rant: Dr. Lickalottapus wears his sister's jogging pants An Evening in Steveston: Kitty Korrosive, Dr. L, and Prof. B have a crazy conversation...Is there any polite way of saying "you got the herpes, bitch?" Prank Call: STDs burn My Left Nut: a love song under the influence The Moon Masters: Mick Aloha's goddamn promo Midnight Society Professor Bestestes loses his mind, more music/rapping ensues, mindfucking Johnny Depp, etc... call the "Foreskin Phone" 206-202-5191 email us: twomenwithforeskin@hotmail.com myspace: Transpondency Direct download: Podcast_2menw4skin_19.mp3 Category: podcasts -- posted at: 9:57 PM Comments[0] Sat, 12 November 2005 Podmovie - Smackdown, Bitches! This movie was captured using an Archos and dubbed over with stupid random audio clips. We created characters that resemble your favorite Two Men with Fore Skin personalities. On this movie we have Professor Bestestes, Dr. Lickalottapus, and The Fleetwood Mac pitted against each other in a ladder match. I hope you enjoy this experiment. Direct download: Smackdown_2Menw4Skin.mov Category: podcasts -- posted at: 7:29 PM Comments[3] powered by
Whore Train
Confessions of a Restaurant Whore: My One True Love (Delfina -- San Francisco, CA and Da Delfina -- Artimino, Italy) BlogThis! CONFESSIONS OF A RESTAURANT WHORE A San Francisco Girl's Down and Dirty Adventures in the Culinary Playground Confessions of a Restaurant Whore A San Francisco Girl's Down and Dirty Adventures in the Culinary Playground -- Show a whore some lovin'. Email Me Where can I eat, bitch? Restaurant Whore's Dining Guide What I Said Before Zu(ni) Story (Zuni Cafe -- San Francisco, CA) Good Night Moon (Luna Park and The Last Supper Club -- San Francisco, CA) Highway to Heaven (A16 -- San Francisco, CA) The Way We Were I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream (Mitchell's Ice Cream -- San Francisco, CA) Amber-ific (Amber India -- Mountain View, CA) Restaurant Behavior 101 Dim YUM (Ton Kiang -- San Francisco, CA) Just for ME (Mabel's Just For You Cafe -- San Francisco, CA) Slow and Steady (Slow Club -- San Francisco, CA) Food Bloggers I Like Becks and Posh Burrito Eater Chocolate and Zucchini Epicurean Debauchery Food Blog S'cool Food Musings Gastronomie KQED Food Blog San Francisco Gourmet Spicetart Sweetnicks The Food Whore You Gonna Eat That? This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution- NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License . -- Tuesday, December 07, 2004 My One True Love (Delfina -- San Francisco, CA and Da Delfina -- Artimino, Italy) Ribollita. The food of the Gods. OK, not really. It's actually peasant food. But it is DAMN good. Ribollita is Tuscan bread soup filled with cannelini beans, cavelo nero (a kale-like green), bread and yummy yum yums (that's a technical term). Then, it's stuck in a fridge to get all congeal-y and then it's FRIED. Fried soup. It's like a little blanket for your insides. It rocks. The first place Jon and I ever had ribollita was at Delfina . Delfina opened about 3 months after we, ourselves, moved to San Francisco. We made the pilgrimage from our shithole apartment about a week after they opened. As it was only 3 and a half blocks away, it wasn't a huge commitment. Or so we thought. From the moment we stepped in, we were in love. At the time, it was about a third the size it is now (if that). They described ribollita for us, and we figured eh, what the hell, how bad can it be? Well, I sure as hell may be a restaurant whore, but at that moment, I was ready to kiss my whorin' days goodbye and settle down. I love Delfina so much that it gets me all choked up just thinking about it. This is going to be a gushy post, so if that's going to wig you out, either suck it up or stop reading. Because I loooooooove them. It's taken me a long time to get to this post because I knew it would be a biggie. So settle in and get ready...here goes: The food. Ribollita yes. Simple-as-pie-but-delicious-as-hell spaghetti with plum tomatoes. For that matter, any pasta at all. The soups. Oh, dear God, the incredible soups (chickpea, Jerusalem artichoke, pappa al pomodoro, etc.). They just blow your mind. Grilled calamari and white bean salad where the beans are as good as those we had at French Laundry. The insalata del campo with everything good in the world in it. The panna cotta, the profiteroles, the crostatas....Oh, fuck it. It's all amazing. It's everything you hope, wish and dream for in your deepest fantasies. And special occasions bring special food, like the Bucatini with lobster and rice pudding with truffles that we eat each New Year's Eve. Craig and Annie Stoll. The owners. These people are the best people you could know. I have never, ever seen people so devoted to their business, their staff, their customers. They are so loyal. They will bend over backwards for their regulars. They take such good care of us, it makes me feel guilty. Here's the thing about Craig and Annie. They hire staff as devoted to their customers as they, themselves are. The staff are so amazing at their jobs, and so kind and wonderful (gush, gush, gush). I love them. I mean that. I LOVE THEM. And they treat us like friends instead of paychecks when we come in. LOVE THEM. We have been to Delfina during our highest ups and our lowest downs. Some examples: Losing a job, getting a new one, grieving a death, entertaining guests, celebrating birthdays, buying a home, moving, losing a friend, reconnecting with each other after hectic weeks apart, the aforementioned New Year's celebrations. And then there are the big ones. Such as September 11, 2001 when our families were on the east coast and we were lost. We wandered into Delfina and they told us they didn't know what to do but stay open and we told them that we didn't know what to do but turn off the TV and start walking in their direction. And the time when we packed up that same shithole apartment, to move to our beautiful new home. It was a happy thing that we were moving, but six years of our lives had been spent in that apartment during which time we had gone from dating to married, purchased a cat (hooray for Charlie!), gained and lost friends. It was a huge chunk of our lives. So when we shut the door for the last time, we felt strangely sad. And we walked straight to Delfina. After all, we'd now be 7 blocks away instead of 3 and a half. And they took care of us, as always. It's nights like those that made us come up with the code word "home" when referring to Delfina. As in "Where would you like to go for your birthday?" "Home." It is where we go when we want and/or need to share something important in our lives. Delfina is the restaurant we'd choose if we had to eat at only one place for the rest of our lives. So it is only fitting that when we were in Italy last September, we made a pilgrimage to Da Delfina in Tuscany, where Craig had studied. We arrived in Florence with Jon's super wonderful but disorganized family (5 of us total) and wandered the streets with a shitload of luggage trying to find our hotel. Yes, Florence has cabs. But why take one when you can avoid making a decision and blindly stumble around like jackasses? Anyway, we found our hotel, threw our stuff in the door and made our way back out to the train station (We did this alone, we would be meeting Jon's family in Siena in the evening. Delfina is so personal to us that we felt we needed to go alone). We took a train to the town of Signa (one stop away, but there are only a few trains a day that go there). Once in Signa, we thought we'd take a cab to Artimino. Nice try. No cabs at the station. So we go into a ghetto hotel and ask them to call us one. We feel bad, so Jon goes to the bar and orders a shot of tequila for their troubles. Nice. So our "cab" arrives. It's a minivan with an older dude inside. As we wind through the hills, he describes everything we're seeing. In Italian. But it's so beautiful, and he's so good natured, that we don't care. And then we get there. There she is in all her glory. Da Delfina. And when I say that, I mean the restaurant and Delfina herself, sitting in the foyer. Delfina is in her 90's and she is beautiful. Carlo, the owner, looks at the young Americans like "What the hell are you here for?" But he seats us anyway. At a table overlooking the Tuscan countryside. We spent the whole meal with tears streaming down our faces. We felt like we had returned to the mothership. We order everything. I order the Tuscan bread soup (ribollita, before it becomes ribollita, if you follow...Carlo was very concerned that I knew this). And in everything we ate, we saw our own Delfina's roots. Jon's guinea hen was a clear ancestor of Craig's chicken, the chicken liver crostini was almost identical, etc. We each had an appetizer, a primi, a secondi. Plus wine. A lot of wine. By the time we got to secondi, I thought I was going to hurl. It was so amazing but it was also a shitload of food. When I let the last third of my salt cod go, Carlo asked me about four thousand times if it was OK. Damn, people, I just can't eat that much food! Nevertheless, they talked us into ordering dessert. Very Tuscan, very good, but again, on the verge of hurling. In between, we received vin santo and some Sangiovese grapes grown by the older Americans at the table behind us. Well it turns out the guy growing the grapes was a trustee at the college Jon and I went to. And he and his wife ended up inviting us to their Tuscan villa. But alas, we needed to meet Jon's family and only had 2 short days left in Italy. Damn. But how fucking cool is that? By the time we left, Carlo was hugging us and we were giving him some of the fake tattoos from the SF Delfina. And when our nice man in the minivan came to take us back to the train station, we were grateful for the meal of a lifetime (at only $110 euro, no less). When there are places in the world like Delfina and Da Delfina, why settle for anything less, ever? xoxo Joy "To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art." --La Rochefoucauld posted by Joy @ 7:44 AM 2 Comments: Gayle And Don said... This is the most passionate review I have ever read in my life. It almost brought me to tears. Thank god I stumbled across your blog. My girlfriend and I are heading for San Fran for a quickie getaway and I was looking for a place to take her. We are staying at the Westin by chance and I found your review of Michael Mina's very amusing. I love people who are not afraid to speak the truth. And, as some of your readers have shown, some people just can't handle the truth. Thanks again for your candid reviews, and I hope we have a chance to get to Delfina this weekend. Who knows, maybe we will see you there. Don 7/29/2005 7:11 PM art said... Loved your story about Da Delfina. Delfina SF was also the favorite restaurant of my wife and I when we lived there. So much that we pretty much organized our whole Florence trip around Da Delfina (I'm sure we had the same van driver). I am a chef in Chicago and I think back to the two years that I spent in San Francisco having the opportunity to work at Delfina. I had an interview with Craig Stoll and ended up working somewhere else. I kick myself all the time! I loved the part of your story where you said Carlo looked at you like "what the hell are you doing here?" We made the mistake of showing up a little bit early and I thought he was going to whale on my ass! So we killed time by having a drink in the little cantina where three chain smoking locals coughed and watched soap operas full blast on the t.v. Ah well, your story brought back great memories and I think your website is great too. 7/30/2005 8:24 PM Post a Comment
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