pastry is not a pretty thing. and there's hardly any qualified pastry chefs in the area let alone any assistants beyond what can only be described as pack mules or moronic honkies going to culinary school who can't bake a muffin properly but think they're all set for a 100k job as princess pastry master. and good bakers- fucking forget it. kitchens tend to drag any warm or lukewarm not quite dead body with at least 3 brain cells firing off dishwashing and cram them in the bakery and expect that they can bake. baking, i am convinced, is like music or art- you're born with the propensity or not. i've known 1 person in over 20 years dragged off a pot sink( and trust me- no one gives a fuck in a full kitchen about the bakery. they'll spend mucho money on sous chefs and such to shore up their food chef but the bakery always gets the cheapest possible costing labour culled from the losers they don't want near a knife or open flames .) who could be called a very good intuitive baker.
in good, near magical news i was angling for another fish tank- mostly for quarantine to add a few more gold fishes to the tank and then for maybe a shark and catfish tank- but i haven't really had the time to go shopping. the other night i was parking -around the block because the guitar hero playing pussy boys upstairs who don't have stickers have been parking illegally out front( give me time, girls- i am having you towed if the wind hits me the wrong way some morning)- and there she was on the sidewalk for free- a complete tank set up with hood, filter, chemicals, gravel, heater even a book on the subject. score!
so the girls, who already think the fish are theirs ( specifically their lunch) will have more free ranging fun.
and i have to go. bah. i have no clean clothes. no fucking socks. no fucking socks!