More Vintage Gelatin Horror

This time it was a Salmon Loaf recipe from a 1929 Knox cookbook and Shrimp Chili Mold recipe from a 1955 Knox cookbook. As you can see, my unmolding skills are still a little rusty. The awesome vintage fish mold I have lost all its fine detail and the result looks somewhat like a diseased penis.

The Salmon Loaf wasn't as bad as Chicken Salad Surprise, but it was still bad enough that I spit out my bite. The Shrimp Chili Mold was really bland, but there was still heat from the cayenne, so it was a rather unpleasant experience. I didn't spit it out though; it wasn't that bad. However, it wasn't good enough to keep the rest. There's going to be some happy raccoons tonight.

Vintage Jello Recipes: A Tale of Horror

A little while ago, someone dared me to make a Jello mold with hot dogs shaped like octopi and carrots shaped like goldfish. So I did. Naturally, this only led to me wanting to make more horrible things. I've been collecting old Jello and Knox Gelatine cookbooks for a while now and there's plenty of horrible things for me to try.

Why? You may ask, your eyes widening in horror. Well, intellectually I figure it's only right to try out these recipes. After all, if I'm going to make fun of them, I should at least know whether they are as horrible as they seem or are actually quite good and I'm misplacing my disgust. It's also a bit of an art form. How many times do we have the same mediocre meals, week in and week out? Seeking out something truly revolting that's printed with authority as food is, well, artful.

Also, because I thought it would be hilariously cool.

My first recipe was Chicken Salad Surprise from the 1965 edition of Joys of Jello. It features chicken, pecans, celery, sour cream, garlic salt, pepper, wine vinegar, and grated onion suspended in lemon (or orange) Jello. Then cut into cubes and placed on a salad with olives and pineapple tidbits.

If you took the lemon Jello out of the equation, it wouldn't be so bad. Minus the olives. I hate olives. Something about the lemon flavor in the Jello makes this the most rancid thing on earth. Actually, it was the lemon Jello and garlic salt. That right there is one of the most revolting things I've ever smelled.

I set up my salad, took an obligatory bite, and promptly spit it out in the sink. Now I have a whole pan of this stuff that is too gross to eat and the cats won't even touch. Nor will spouse, who declared hearing about my experience was enough proof.

Watching Bad Movies So You Don't Have To: I Am Omega (Part Two)

Part two of my play-by-play/review of I Am Omega, Asylum's atrocious version of I Am Legend.

-----------------------------

When we last left our brave Chairman, he and The Stereotype were calmly chatting while Geeky Comedic Relief Boy was killing all the bloody zombie-monsters himself. The Geeky Comedic Relief Boy calls for help and climbs in the truck. Why he called for help is puzzling since he had just finished wasting all the BZMs himself.

The Chairman jumps into his car, but The Stereotype orders him to ride in the smelly, gore-covered van. As they drive (because there's not near enough driving), The Stereotype makes a bigoted joke that goes nowhere. When the trio are suddenly in the sewers, The Stereotype insinuates that The Chairman gets off on fecal aroma. Why, I don't know. One minute, the guy is decent, the next, a slimeball. Maybe this is what Asylum calls "edgy."

Watching Bad Movies So You Don't Have To: I Am Omega (Part One)

Because I have little to do when I'm stuck at home with a blizzard, I am watching bad movies. And so other people won't have to suffer the same fate, I'm going to review and describe the movie. That way, your curiosity over what this might contain will be satiated without having to waste an hour and a half of your life.

-------------------------------------------

I Am Omega is Asylum's ripoff of I Am Legend. In this movie, the Iron Chef America chairman is the last survivor among a horde of bloody zombie-monsters.

We open with a badly filmed scene in which a frantic young woman is hurriedly packing. She keeps calling over to a child on the sofa, asking if he is packed and has his shoes. The child responds by dully staring ahead, possibly at the director, who's waving a toy in an effort to try and get the kid to react. At one point, the woman has finished packing and reaches out to take the child's hand. He looks at her dubiously, so I'm assuming this woman is not his mother. Most likely, she is the new babysitter or a stranger who has kidnapped him. That's the only reason I can figure for the distrust on his face.

She packs him into the car and goes to start it, only realizing she forgot her keys. As someone whose car keys are always in my pocket when not being used to drive the car, I have to wonder why people always forget their keys in these movies. Maybe it's an alternate dimension where every person on the planet can remember complicated passwords to hack the NSA computer defense system, but can't figure out why the toaster is smoking.

Holy Crap, I'm Being Born!

Oh my god, there's a bright light and I'm being forced towards it! Is this the end? I never had a chance to find out if there was life in other organs! NOOOOOOOO!

Hey, wait, what happened? Where am I? Who is this asshole cooing at me? What the fuck? Oh my god, I've been abducted by aliens! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Okay, this is weird. There's two big aliens who keep staring at me. Oh my god, I'm completely naked! What hell is this?

This being abducted thing is tiring. Since I'm already at the mercy of these extraterrestrial monsters, I might as well get a nap. I'm sure I'll get answers when I wake up.

High School 1958 vs 2012

This thing has been going around the internet since 2008, though there are other versions that have been around longer. Basically, it's this thing showing how everything was sooooo much better back in the "good old days." Of course, people who agree with this schlock are either persons of privilege or they forgot about all the horrible shit back in the "good old days." Not to mention, so much of this thing is so full of shit and false information, I don't know where to begin. So I won't. What I will do is offer up more realistic versions written by myself and others.

And because I enjoy twisting things for my own, fuquerie-filled agenda, I'm going to entertain y'all with some stories based on these wayward teens. And I'm back dating this entry because I don't want sooper serious crap messing up my whimsy. And because I can. I'd back date it to 1958, but Blogger won't let me do anything before 1970.

Obligatory Introduction Post

I had another blog, but I decided it didn't have the word "fuquerie" in it and that was sad. So I made a new one.

This blog is going to be about all things fuquerie. I like messing around with strange things, like thrift stores, flea markets, horrible old gelatin recipes, terrible movies, and science experiments not allowed to be sold in stores anymore. This is where I'm going to detail all of that. Mostly with pictures.

You may be wondering, just what is fuquerie anyway?

Well, it's "fuckery" spelled all fancy like. Fuckery is anything that is wtf. It's anything that makes you surprised, confused, bemused, amazed, horrified, or other emotions you normally do not experience when you look at inanimate objects. Fuckery gives you that strangely uncomfortable feeling or that tiny little squee of delight. Fuckery is everywhere. 

Fuckery originally came from Regretsy in the form of "whimsicle fuckery." There's a deeper backstory there, but you'll just have to discover it for yourself. Fuckery is to be experienced.