Let’s quit wasting time with pillow talk and dive right in:

• Sweetened condensed milk – 14oz
• Evaporated milk – 12oz
• Egg – 1
• Hershey’s Syrup – variable
• Evan Williams – use the 12oz can from the evaporated milk

Go ahead and crack open that egg in your mixing bowl and get it nice and whipped up (correct way to say that?) like you were gonna make scrambled eggs. Now get that condensed milk and evaporated milk opened and dump that in with the egg. No…really, I mean it. Here’s where it gets weird…take the evaporated milk can and fill it up sort of to the top with the Evan Williams whiskey and then dump that into the mixing bowl.

Now comes the fun part. Grab the Hershey’s syrup. This is the “variable” of the recipe…ok, let’s be honest, the whole thing is variable. Anyways, I usually squeeze the bottle for about 3 seconds, give or take. Too much chocolate can be a bad thing in this case. Once you’ve done this, grab your favorite whipper and take care of the mixture. Be careful not to go too fast or whip too much…we’re dealing with milk afterall…you’re not looking for curdled liqueur are you? You should end up with a nice smooth, creamy mixture at this point.

Voila…you’re done. Bottle and distribute as necessary.  Keep in mind, THIS HAS TO BE KEPT REFRIGERATED. Don’t say I didn’t warn you or tell you later when you get sick because you didn’t listen. THIS HAS TO BE KEPT REFRIGERATED.  Have a great holiday everyone and enjoy your beverages.

]]> http://www.bingbonghotdog.com/2011/12/09/diy-irish-cream-liqueur/feed/ 1 http://www.bingbonghotdog.com/2011/10/23/pain-is-temporary/ http://www.bingbonghotdog.com/2011/10/23/pain-is-temporary/#comments Sun, 23 Oct 2011 22:28:20 +0000 Versa Dave http://www.bingbonghotdog.com/?p=504 On July 27th, 2011 I decided to take a jog. It was exactly .52 of a mile before I nearly passed out. It’s chronicled on Run Keeper. Since then, I have pushed past that mileage and strived to be better. In the beginning it was hard because the temperature was unbearable some days. This summer in St. Louis, we saw temps surpassing 110°. To get around that, you’d have to run very early or very late. I wouldn’t recommend anyone starting an endeavor like this during such hellacious weather, however, when the motivation strikes, you can’t turn away. If you wait until the perfect time, you’ll never do it.

For several years now, my friend and coworker Michelle (@love2run8 on Twitter) has tried to get me running. Other friends like @jenn_if_er and @meggartland and @meghoulihan have also tried to encourage me…but I’m stubborn. In the end, no one person got me to start. I was tired of being fat I guess. I had no energy and I couldn’t even play with my kids w/o getting tired. That needed to change. For those of you who read my prior post entitled My First Fitness Blog Post, you might remember that I spoke of a Nike+ GPS watch that I thought was really cool (because of the geek factor). I ended up getting that watch and love it! In discussing that watch, it lead me to have a discussion with Maddie Marshall (@maddie_em on Twitter). At this point, I was already committed to running, but she encouraged me and pushed me to do more. I won’t say I wouldn’t be where I’m at without her, but…she pushed me pretty hard and encouraged the crap out of me. I will forever be thankful to her.

On September 18th, I completed my first 5K race. I didn’t come in 1st Place, but I won for me. Maddie was there, along with @therobertprice and @hannahviolin. They didn’t wait for me (but as I’ve found out, no one really waits for anyone) but I pushed through just fine without them – it rained most of that race too. Once I crossed the finish line, I was hooked.

On October 16th, I completed my first 10K race. It was the go! St. Louis Halloween 10K. Again, I didn’t come in 1st Place (or anywhere close) but it was a win for me. I conquered something I had never done before. In fact, I had even gone to a winery the day before so really wasn’t feeling up for it and went anyways. I knew if I didn’t…I’d likely be chastised by my friends for not showing up.

I was perfectly content with being done at this point (at least for the rest of the year). I felt like I accomplished a lot in just 2.5 short months. About a month prior to that, many of my friends were preparing for their full or half marathon in the Rock ‘n Roll Marathon Series in St. Louis on October 23rd. In my mind, I told myself I could be ready and sort of wanted to do this. However, the cost was $105 at this point (because of registering so late). That factor helped me make my decision not to do it because in reality, I wasn’t ready. The most I had ever run at that point was 5.5 miles. Even the 10K on the 16th…that was the furthest distance I had ever run. On Thursday, October 20th, Jennifer tweeted that she had a friend that couldn’t use her bib for the Rock ‘n Roll Half Marathon. She purposely included me on that tweet…within 5 minutes I was committing to taking the bib and running a half marathon. WAS I NUTS!!?? But then I thought back to the story of Maddie’s brother, David, who on a whim, drove to Iowa to do a full marathon one weekend, without EVER training. This was it…no guts, no glory. Suck it up Dave. Rub some dirt on it. BE A MAN!!

And so, today, I completed my first half marathon ever. I finished in an amazing 2:41:41, which for me, again, is a win! I’m proud of myself. Somewhere around mile 11 (when I felt like I was gonna throw up and literally started to tear up and cry a little), I saw a girl holding a sign that said “Pain is temporary, Pride is permanent”. That little girl will probably never know what that sign meant to me. I had to walk quite a bit those last 2 miles, but I made it across the finish line, and once again, beat all odds.

If you ever wanted to know if you could run a marathon, the answer is simple. Yes. You can. I’m not a coach. I’m not a trainer. But if you need someone to run with you for your long runs, then you let me know and I’ll do whatever I can to accomodate schedules to make it happen.

Chase your dreams and don’t be afraid to go through a little bit of pain. The rewards are permanent.

This past Friday night, I was fortunate enough to see a close friend of mine, Melissa Gilliam, before she moved on to a new chapter in her life. Melissa, passionately known as @MilliGFunk in the Twitterz, has been a friend for several years now. We met through Twitter, we became buddies, we hung out, we conversed, we chatted, we ranted, we shared emotions…we even walked in a parade together. I’m gonna miss this girl. She is going to change the lives of many in the Colorado Springs area. They don’t know it yet, but they’re about to get FUNKY.

As I sat among friends Friday night, we discussed our friendships and how they formed. I looked around the circle of companions. People like Karen Goodman and Bridget Frischer. People like Angela Vogel and Don Head. People like Tabitha Meyer and Michael Tomko. These were the people that made up a small portion of my circle of trust. In case you’re missing the point here, every single one of my friends that I was with on Friday night (with the exception of Don Head), I met through an online channel of sorts, whether it be Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, blogging or whatever other source you want to consider. This is HUGE! This is sort of mind blowing if you think about it. There has been a paradigm shift (like my use of business savvy terminology?) in my friend creating machine. I no longer have to stand on the loser wall in the school gym, hoping some girl is going to come by and choose me like I’m a ’78 Duster, “Ehh, this will do”. You know why I was on that loser wall to begin with? Because I, like so many others, have fears. We are genetically predisposed to have fears and social anxiety. Ok, maybe not all of us, but a lot of us.

It’s really difficult to put yourself out there and meet people face to face. The fear of rejection in person is enough to force folks to stay home and watch Dexter. Social Media has changed my life in this regard. Did you know that I’m 10x funnier online than I am IRL (that’s In Real Life for you n00bs)? Did you know that I’m ‘nearly’ 6’3″ and 240lbs? Of course you didn’t know that because pictures are not completely accurate in their projection of girth. Did you know that when I write or blog or tweet, I feel empowered? Did you know that when I speak IRL for the first time to a person, I’m often shaking so bad I have to clench my teeth? Of course you don’t know that because more than half, and maybe even as high as 70% of my circle of trust (or friends) evolved from online relationships. When I meet a person online and build that connection, meeting them in person is like shootin’ ducks in a barrel. I love it!! All of the anxiety and concern is magically dissipated. I feel at ease. And just in case you’re wondering…yes, I’ve been rejected online…it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.

I don’t discriminate based on origin. Whether I met you at a coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon, or you started following me on Twitter, we’re friends. I like that when I tell my girls we’re going to meet friends for lunch, they say “Are these your Twitter friends?” because it gives me an opportunity to tell them that my Twitter friends ARE my friends. There is no distinction anymore. The transformation is complete.

A group of friends (all of whom I met online) circa 2009

There aren’t enough fingers and toes on this body to tell you how many times someone has told me that I just need to start running. Sure, I don’t hear very well, but I also don’t listen either. I could name at least 10 people right off the bat that are good friends of mine that run constantly and even enjoy the likes of marathons and other crazy runner events. Let’s face it…I’m surrounded by crazy runner people. They always talk about “the runner’s high”; they say there’s no other feeling like it in the world.

Last week, my good friend Meg Gartland pointed me to an app on the iPhone call myfitnesspal. She claimed it helped her to do all the things that traditional fitness record keeping methods couldn’t. I downloaded it, but didn’t really do anything with it. Over the weekend, I was at the mall with another good friend Amanda Quast, when I came across some really cool GPS watches by Nike and Garmin. I really wanted to get one, but not because of the fitness aspect…because of the geek factor. I mean really, how cool of a watch to have, but without the lackluster of telling people “Yeah, I’m a runner” it was merely just another geek purchase. Finally, Sunday night, I dusted off the ole Runkeeper app that I had downloaded for free months ago (you know, because it was free). I setup my new myfitnesspal account and set my alarm to wake up at 6:30am.

Monday morning 6:30am….came and went.

Tuesday morning 6:30am…came and went.

Wednesday morning 6:30am…WE’RE OFF AND RUNNING!! Here’s the deal…it sucked. I ran half a mile and I about puked on 2nd Street. As I walked, attempting to capture the last remaining breaths my body had, I half expected some sort of dancing purple elephant to come out from behind the light pole, or some cute little chubby angels playing harps to fly over my head. Where was this “runner’s high”? Did Meg and Jenn and the other Meg and Jodi and Cort and Angela all lie to me? Was this a scam!??

Turns out, you don’t get the high until about mile 4. Dang it!

A funny thing happened though on Wednesday night. I had the urge to go running again. I don’t like running though. I never have. It’s tedious and boring. There’s nothing remotely fun about it. I’d rather watch golf for 4 hours on TV…and I hate watching golf on TV. So I ran on Thursday morning…all of about .70 mile. Then guess what happened…I almost puked again on 2nd Street. And then, ooh ooh…guess what happened…I had the urge to run Thursday night! So I did pushups instead. And then this morning, Friday, I went and ran. FOR A WHOLE MILE!! Can you believe it!!?? What the heck happened to me? It’s like I swallowed a Tony Little video and now I can’t stop!!

Here’s the thing…I hope I don’t stop. I need this kind of daily exercise in my life. I’m not looking to become a fitness blogger. I’m not looking to get ripped and look like Hercules. I do however want to be around long enough for my kids to get married one day and for me to play with my grandkids the way my Dad plays with his. I’m not getting younger and I don’t have the fountain of youth. As big of a game as I might talk, I don’t want to grow old alone. There’s no joy in that. Grumpy old men might be cute on TV but when they tuck themselves in at night, they’re still alone and grumpy old men. I’m not going to allow myself to die a grumpy old fat man.

Now get off my lawn!!

Aside from that however, I began thinking about flip flops. You’re scratching your head at this point, and that’s ok. In due time young padewan, all truths will be revealed. You may find this hard to believe, but many moons ago, this ole boy was strictly against flip flops. The thought of them made me feel uncomfortable, questioning the sexuality of this rough and rugged man. I steered far away and left them for the women for fear of judgment by my other male friends. I would on occasion be caught wearing full fledged sandals. You know, the kind that look like Jesus would have worn them. They had a thick sole and Dr. Martens made them exclusively popular back in the day.

I’m older now. Almost 35 to be exact in 1 short month. Since my divorce 4 years ago and hitting that 30 mark, a lot has changed. My friends are different, my life is different, my ideas are different. I wear flip flops now. I can’t really pinpoint a fundamental reason for the change of heart, but I can tell you exactly when the flip flop theory flip flopped. It was the summer of 2008 and I was looking at the Crocs store for a new pair (those were manly enough despite their overall ugliness). I came across these flip flops that were, for all intensive purposes, nothing special, but they piqued my interest. They didn’t look like normal Crocs. They were in fact the epitome of flip flops. I tried them on and much to my surprise, they felt great! They molded to my foot and there was no discomfort having something between my toes. The sole was cushy; I felt like I was totally jellin’. I had to have them. But wait…this goes against everything manly in my mind. I don’t care. I didn’t care. I wanted them. Here we are 3 years later, and I still wear those exact same flip flops.

Other things changed too. It’s now acceptable for me to wear a messenger bag (even though it’s a purse). I carry my iPad, keyboard, chargers, hearing aid batteries, etc in it. I justify it constantly. I wear an apron now when I get deep into cooking. I use a loufa in the shower. I wear black belts with black shoes and brown belts with brown shoes. I don’t think this is the true definition of metrosexual, but I’ve been called that before.

Regardless, I’m happy with who I am. I’m not hopping any fences but I have many friends in the gay/lesbian community. They are normal people with normal lives and often hilarious antics up their sleeve. I’m not afraid to be who I am (and for the most part, never have been). I want my daughters to be who they are comfortable being, without the fear of being mocked or ridiculed. Individuality is key to your life’s happiness. If you have to pretend to be someone else, then you’ll never be living your own life. Don’t hop the fence just to please someone else or avoid persecution…be you…and enjoy it.

I thought about this, but not for very long. Let’s be honest, I don’t really believe that today is the day Jesus will come back. I mean…it could be, but I doubt it would be a day that is so easily figured out by some 2bit attention hungry evangelist. But…let’s just play along for sake of giving me something to talk about. If you knew today was your last day, what would you do? It’s a serious question.

Most of us have a bucket list in one form or another, but this is different. Let me set it up for you. In exactly 12 hours, you’re going to meet your creator. There’s no packing, or getting ready. In one smooth swoop, you’re just…gone. Stop thinking you need to prepare. You don’t. Give me the down and dirty. I’ll get the ball rolling.

1. I’d meet my family at Starbucks and we’d sit around drinking coffee for a few hours.
2. Go to the Harley shop and buy anything with a sidecar. Then I’d take the girls riding for as far as we could go on a tank of gas.
3. We’d eat at a nice restaurant. Nothing too fancy, but someplace nice that we could enjoy the meal.

That’s it. No frills here. Anything I think is amazing here on earth is only going to be 100x better in Heaven. I’m still interested though, in what you would do. Many of my friends don’t believe in Heaven. Many of them don’t believe there will ever be a rapture. Leave your comments below. Maybe your list will spark an idea for my list. Oh and let me know when you leave your house so I can loot it. KIDDING. Maybe. I am. Maybe I’m not.

My last tweet?

Versa Dave was here.

Today I don’t feel like doing anything.

Introducing Your 2011 Sexiest CyberGeek Nominees!

Mom had taken Dylen to a skin care party at my sister-in-law’s house for the morning so Rhyen & I met them at Kohl’s on the Rock Road. Dylen is fairly easy to pick clothes out for – you point her to anything with skirts and the colors pink & purple, and she’s happy. Rhyen on the other hand is like a dog doing the pee pee dance – around and around we go until she finds the perfect blend of cool, punk and tomboy. I had already gone into the changing room once for Dylen and she was walking around with Nene looking for a dress. Rhyen and I had a stack of clothes to try on so we headed back to the changing room.

As Rhyen was trying on her clothes, Dylen came back with Nene and was trying on a dress. The changing room wasn’t labeled men or women, so I was standing inside the hallway. My mom is standing down a few doors and she proceeds to tell me that someone took Dylen’s changing room and they were waiting to get into the room to get her clothes out. I got a little irate about this because Mom said she didn’t say anything to the woman in the room and were just waiting patiently until she came out. I’m not that nice and was trying to make sure the woman heard me as I spoke loudly of how rude it was for her to take a little girl’s room. Just then, a Kohl’s store employee came into the hallway and asked that I leave the women’s changing room because a woman felt uncomfortable going into a room with me in the hallway. I tried to tell her that I was there for my daughters and that someone had taken her room with her clothes, but she was insistent. So I stood out of the hallway and let my Mom take care of it.

After a few minutes, Mom came out and said Dylen’s clothes were not in the room. I was losing my patience (as little as that was). Another employee helped my Mom look for the clothes in all the rooms, thinking maybe Dylen had made a mistake about which room she was in. We waited for each room to open, and still no clothes. At this point, I was beginning to get upset. The employees were running around looking for the clothes, checking all of their baskets to make sure that none of them accidentally picked up the clothes thinking they were new ones to be put back. Dylen meanwhile was running around wearing a long sun dress. I called her over to me and lifted the bottom of the dress (that hung to the ground) to expose her feet. Yep, she was wearing her boots. I considered asking her why she put her boots back on after taking her clothes off, but I thought, at least her shoes weren’t stolen.

The search went on for nearly an hour, and I was more than ready to leave. The supervisor at Kohl’s finally said she was very sorry and asked if she could walk Dylen up to the front and pay for the outfit she was wearing. The woman took my name, phone number and a description of the outfit she was wearing. She said she would call me if for some reason the clothes turned up. I was skeptical and could only think, “What kind of sick freak would steal a little girl’s clothes from a changing room in a department store??”. I realize that Kohl’s had nothing to do with Dylen’s clothes being stolen and I certainly am not unreasonable enough to think that it’s their responsibility to keep track of her things while in the changing room; Kohl’s paying for a new outfit was a simple extension of true customer service.

As much as I wanted to leave, each of the girls still needed a pair of shoes. It took another 30 minutes or so to pick up Tony Hawk size 4s and some Twinkle Toes. We made our way to the front of the store, paid for the clothes, and made our way into Snowmageddon Part Deux (yes, by this time there was at least 2 inches on the ground). We sat in the Jeep for a few minutes to get warmed up and let the snow melt off the windshield. Just then, my phone rang with an unknown phone number. I reluctantly answered it, and the woman on the other end said she was from Kohl’s and had found my daughter’s clothes. She explained that a woman had mistakenly picked them up when she gathered her clothes and put them in the bottom of her cart. I wanted to be grateful, but I also wanted to find that woman and point a finger in her face like a mother and say “Well if you hadn’t been so rude as to take someone else’s room, we wouldn’t be in this problem”.

I could give you a lot of different spins on a moral here, but the one that should really stand out is this. Kohl’s Department store went above and beyond today to make up for a bad situation that they didn’t cause. There were at least 5 employees turning every stone in the changing rooms to find Dylen’s clothes. In the end, the simple gesture of paying for a $20 dress reinforced my decision to continue shopping at Kohl’s. Expect Great Things.

P.S. While I waited for employees to search the changing rooms, I was, of course, tweeting and facebooking. Kohl’s nearly immediately responded to my tweets. I have no doubt that had the manager not already agreed to pay for her clothes, the social media team at @Kohls_Official would have taken care of us. Here’s a link to the tweet from Kohl’s.