Friday, April 28, 2006

Correspondance With A Scammer- I Reply

So I told the scammer I would help her out, and 'she' sent me a message rather quickly. I responded. Both are below, in case someon needs help with the obvious.

-------------------------------------------------
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Theresa Date: Apr 28, 2006 9:52 PM
All i owe here is $340 i will be grateful if u can help me to send it today so that i can leave here tommrow....
if u want to send the money u will be sending it thru western union money transfer to the hotel manager info below
..... Receivers name ......Samuel Blessing
City..........................Ikeja State.........................
Lagos Country....................Nigeria
Text question...........My name
Text answer..............Theresa
Thats all u need to wire the money ,after u sent the money u will email me ur senders name ,the mtcn..,ur full address.
--------------------------------------

K: damn you can leave tommorrow? kewl. i live in newport beach so your fantasy about tropical drinks an stuff will be fulfilled. i cant go today b cause i gotta work but aybe tommorrow? how is africa? i'm afraid to go because of alll the dark people and the AIDS and such.

Do you have the AIDS? i here everybody there does. If you do i dont know if i want to have a relationship with you- i hear the AIDS gives you a not so majik johnson.

either way i'll try to get ya the $$$ tommorrow, with 340usd you should be able to buy your way into the royal family of lagos. they so broke down there! ive seen pictures. they can't even afford cool nikes. what'y your fave kind of music? i love phil collins, miami bass, and 80z monster rock.

Correspondance With A Scammer

So I got an email on myspace from 'theresa' yesterday- an obvious scam. I can't even count the number of possible country song titles from the first paragraph alone! Nevermind that 'she' has an email with the name 'Becky' and a myspace name of Theresa, and that 'she' has the capability to email me back in 5min... but doesn't have the money to pay some african hotel bill?

Here's her 'message.'

I'm looking for a male who's open minded to have correspondence with while I'm stuck in africa. If I meet the right one we could possibly take our relationship to the streets. I'm a strong, sexy, smart, independent female with many goals and lots of drive. I love to have fun and need a real man by my side to hold it down with. I need a man with good conversation, intelligence, street smarts and one who knows how to treat a lady. I want to explore the world and do new things when I come home. I'm willing to relocate. I love warm weather, tropical drinks and sandy beaches. I like to party and have fun. I don't want no more drama in my life. I live life in the fast lane but am willing to see what it is like to chill out and just be. I like romantic evenings and bedroom talk. I'm a real woman looking for a real man. What I've learned from my past relationships: I am a sexy, loyal, and devoted woman who's looking for a man to please me.

Someone to share personal moments with, enjoy life and to firmly hold the blessings of a lasting and undying happiness. I am one woman born to please not to tease. I am educated with high goals, morals, and integrity. I am a once in a life time offer, every man and woman's dream. I am willing to relocate to a secure foundation a steady relationship and to meet the terms, i wish i could meet you soon cos am in a deep shit here right now well i need you to go through this i want anyone to help me out in this shit,the reason why i fall into this shit is that i lost my parent in motor accident in last 4years ago and the only brother that i had in florida he is a drug addict and i dont know where to found him that why i need you to help me out cos i have a round trip ticket and it gonna expire soon plz i will be happy if you get me out of this mess i promise you woun,t regret doing this. , what has happen its a long story,i will just brief for you.if u wanna help u can help out i met one guy on internet in last two years and he told me that he love me to be his wife and i accept cuz This guy was so good and nice to me.

The guy is from africa later he invited me to his country and i went there when i got there he took me to one hotel there and we slept there till next day when i woke up in the next day i told him to took me to his family house and he refused to do that . Next day i slept b4 i woke up the guy have stole my money and jeweries and run away.he left me in the hotel,This just happen to me recently even am still in the hotel in africa am going to back as soon as i pay the hotel bill,i want you to assist me to pay the bill.because the hotel have seized up my return ticket and passport due to hotel bil that i am owing them. without payment they will not release my travel document.if u can help me in this shit i will very grateful..u can im me or email me at .becky_theresa@yahoo.com

Monday, April 24, 2006


I wasn't there, but I bet Law Prom wen't down like this. Posted by Picasa

LA Face With That Oakland Booty

O.K., so I sat outside my school studying for a couple hours and made an extremely important and scientific observation: law school girls got back.

There's a common walkway that connects the undergrad registrar's office and business office with the law school area. Almost anytime a skinny girl made her way doen the walkway, she busted a left and went towards the undergrad area, while if a female with a fully-loaded pirate ship was spotted off the starboard bow, there was a d@mn good chance she was headed for the law school. These observations were confirmed by the gear carried by said females; if they were packin' a laptop and tons of books they were added to the law school tally...ubiquitous Jansports and History books indicated an undergrad.

I'm not talking exclusively about overall weight here- i'm talking mainly about voluptuousness here...lest you ladies get offended about all of this chatter about the Third Rail of Male-to Female conversation.

This of course begs the question- no, not "Was Sir-Mix-A-Lot a member of the Florida Bar?" but is this a nature-or-nurture situation? Are females that tow a caboose predisposed to killin' the Logic Games and Reading Comp sections in aptitude tests? Or is it the inert lifestyle of a law student that creates and inflates the situation?

I say the former, specifically because if b) were true it would affect the males as well- and this doesn't seem to hold true.

Discuss.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Non-hip Music Pick of the Week

Somewhere in between Axl Rose and Jeff Mangum lived Shannon Hoon, both in terms of linear/temporal artistic production and vocal range. The Sherlock Holmes bit here is that around the time Mr. Hoon OD'd, he was making his own 'From A Basement On The Hill.' Released as 'Nico,' this record (named after his daughter) reveals to the listener the thoughts of a maudlin man with an acoustic guitar whose voice bends and cracks along with the tape hiss...it's perfectly imperfect.

While not as cerebral as 'In The Aeroplane,' his cover of Steppenwolf's 'The Pusher' is the aural definition of the word foreshadowing. If I was you, I'd head over to iTunes and scoop the aforementioned track along with 'Soul One,' 'John Sinclair,' 'All That I Need,' and 'Change.' Those tracks will treat you way better than an equivalently-priced super-sized combo.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

A Lovely Little Story, Said The Gramophone

The second of my two sons is named Intensity O'Clock, and every night he sneaks out to go to the Harlem Square Club. At first I had no idea. While me and the missus dozed, Intensity would tiptoe past our doorway, lift the window, and spring out into the night. As we dreamed, he would be shimmying down the poplar and going out into the street, running in his tomato-red sneakers. A friend would pull up in an old car - and they'd be off, smiling in the dark.
One night a few weeks ago, I happened to get up for a drink. I noticed the window open but thought simply that the wife must have wanted a breeze, an airing-out of the upper floor. Downstairs I poured myself a glass of water and stood in the dark by the front window. And there I saw Intensity O'Clock, all flying hair and shining eyes and red shoes, dashing through the garden and into a waiting Buick.

I set down my glass of water and folded my arms. When the car had driven away I went upstairs to make sure I had not dreamed the sight. There was Intensity's bed, neat but empty. I went through, kissed the missus on the cheek and then took the newspaper and went back into Intensity's room. I rubbed my eyes and I read the paper and I awaited his return.
Intensity didn't get back until close to 5 am. I admit I had fallen asleep but I heard the slam of the car door, heard a laugh, then soon enough heard the creak of the window shutting. Intensity came into his room and he saw me in the old wicker chair. His face suddenly went very grey.
"Dad," he said.
I stood up. "Good morning."
"Look, I just-"
"Where were you?" I asked.
Intensity was still breathing heavily from the climb up the tree. "The Harlem," he said. "The Harlem Square Club."
"Girls?" I said.
Intensity shrugged. "Music," he said.
There was a light in Intensity's face that I wasn't use to seeing. There was a red in his cheeks and a lightness in the skin around his eyes. He looked at once very young and very old, dressed in black and white and red. I could feel the dawn rising behind me.
"Who?" I asked, and he knew what I meant.
"Sam Cooke," he said quietly. He took off his jacket. "And boy did he ever."
I let Intensity go to sleep. I went back into my room and sat up watching the windows lighten, lighten. I thought about my son's face, his breath, the tenderness with which he had said Mr Cooke's name.

The next morning I called into the office and told them I wouldn't be coming in. I explained everything to the wife and she nodded, amused with me. She was meeting Gloria and the girls for the day, so we shared breakfast and then she left. The kids were at school.
I went up to Intensity's room. He kept his records on one of the lower shelves of his bookshelf, where the fairytales had used to reside. I flipped through them. So many names I didn't know.

And there: Sam Cooke.

I took the record downstairs and I put it on. I sat in my deep, familiar easychair and I listened.

The house was big and still and soft.

Cooke's voice rattled me, it really did. It flew out of the hifi like a group of birds, like a flock of them, and almost right into me. There was something in his voice that shook all over - in the feet, the hands, the head, the chest. It was almost too loose in his throat. Almost - but no, no, just perfect. It rattled and shook and went free through the house, bright as teeth, bright as laughter, like bracelets swinging on wrists. I wouldn't dance, alone in my house, but I sat there and saw clear as day Intensity in his red shoes and leather jacket, twisting on the carpet. His hair flew and his eyes lit up and there was a bliss there that was better than anything I had seen in him before. It wasn't a safe sort of happiness, not quite, but the recklessness was young and sure and I trusted my son in it. He was brave enough to come home, stars tucked into his pockets, music in the soles of his feet.

So when Intensity O'Clock arrived back from school that day I was again waiting for him in his room. I had put the Sam Cooke record away. I sat with a mug of coffee and a copy of the Times-Sentinel, as a father ought to. He went stiff when he came in and saw me but I told him to sit down and said "It's all right". I told him he could keep going out. I told him to be sensible and not to let school suffer. But I said it was all right, he could go, and that he should enjoy himself.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Get Buck/Steady on the Grind/Get Rich Or Die Tryin

Yep, only 14 days before law school finals. I hope to avoid repeating last semester's mediocre performance, so my activities for the next two weeks or so will be limited. MUCH MUCH is riding on these for me, so please excuse my absence from what the kids these days call 'fun shit' for a bit, awwrright?

Pray for me or whatever- please. i'll need it.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

This Just In

Easter Sunday morning at Struggleville HQ means a couple of granola bars for breakfast and a quick trip out to my balcony to gain Internet access...somebody special sent me an amazing Easter gift! It was an email with this link-

http://youtube.com/watch?v=EwIZuAJ64IA&search=TI%20T.I%20What%20You%20Know%20King%20Jimmy%20Kimmel%20Live

As one might deduce from the alphabetical characters in the link, it features TI live on Kimmel---but what you might not know is that he KILLS IT. Even stranger, that dude Travis Barker is on drums, and he equally owns. Mr. Barker comes with a sped-up jazz style and is almost as animated as TI himself.

Happy Easter, y'all.

Friday, April 14, 2006

In Real Music News...

ExP homies Future Pigeon play the Echo Sunday BBQ spot for free.

i can so see this guy living in the OC. he probably already owns a green Tahoe with a small-town pinstripe package and rims. Posted by Picasa

SoftRockAPalooza in the OC this weekend!

Yeah, the bros out here think they're pretty tuff with their Social Distortion and their sailor tatts and their Applebees, but what really sells out here is good music you can listen to while you work. Peep the lineup in the OC this weekend! Better Than Ezra and Sister Hazel R O C K the house friday and sat. nights, and saturday there's the bonus stick of stale gum in the baseball cards- Richard Marx and Michael Bolton knock heads at a battle royale of soft-rock mullets at the Grove. Dude, I'm so stoked.

master p's graphic designers are everywhere. Posted by Picasa
OK. I'll be the first to say it. Mixtape CDs are played out. Yeah, they broke such talents as 50 (hey...waitttaminnit...) and Jeezy (hmmmmm) but do we really need another CD with 22 tracks and just as many you-fucked-with-me-now-I-gotta shoot-you skits?

If you're lucky -- the one track that's halfway decent won't have too much repetitive screaming of DJ CLUE!!!! DJ DRAMA!!!! GREEN LANTERN!!!! or whatthefuck ever over the beat. Hiphop continues to march toward the cliche...serious props to cee-lo, rjd2, danger mouse, and anybody else who might be doing something innovative and new in the genre.

I do have to admit I love that Jeezy song TRAPSTR though...it's best played pitched up in between a couple 80s jams.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Week In Review

Well it's been an extremely busy week here at Struggleville HQ deep in the black heart of the OC...probably the hi-lite/low lite was when I tried to kickflip off of this curb while wearing wooden-soled wingtips and a suit. Outcome was not so good. Suit stayed in perfect condition, however...even after what i thought would be surefire concrete abrasion! Big up to Ermanegildo Zegna, whoever and wherever he may be...his gear def. passes the skateboarding lawyer test.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Skateboarding is not a crime!!

Strip Mall Concrete Under My Feet, Handcuffs on my Wrists

So I was put in handcuffs today by the PD!
I was riding my skateboard to the Ralphs to pick up some green peppers and a loaf of bread when a po-po motorcycle pulled next to the sidewalk where i was riding.
The cop told me I 'shouldn't be skateboarding here.'
I told him I was sorry and informed him that I was only on the way to the store.
I continually addressed him as 'sir' and kept a good attitude the whole time--i had nothing really to worry about.

He asked me if he could search me: I told him I'd rather him not. He did not respond to me but called for backup. Was then put in cuffs and forcibly searched. Most illicit items found by the cops: my iPod, the 10 dollar bill in my pocket. He went through my wallet and found my law school ID. Asked me some bullshit asshole questions about law school.

He then wrote me a ticket for crossing a street when the light was red (?) and told me to "get my skateboard and get out of here."

Friday, April 07, 2006

Juelez and Jim

In my incessant search for the blockbuster Dip Set film, I stumbled on this classic flick-

http://youtube.com/watch?v=a3ct6PNVOWI&search=dipset

Entitled 'Me and Smoke,' this flick was made by someone who identifies themself as DipSet, but they make beats with a Casio and rap about 'bumpin' snow' on the mean streets of La Jolla.
At least keep watching until you see homeboy dance on the hood of an Isuzu Rodeo.

Sample lyric: 'I can't control my desires/I shop at Nordstroms, not Fred Meyers.' Loves it.

After this video, the Dip Set vid isn't as entertaining, but if you wanna see Killa Cam pee-pee on someone (i'm for real) and bust someone in the head with a Sizzurrrp bottle, here you go.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=8Lof3y2ZzDA

Wednesday, April 05, 2006


(cue reverent music here.) Posted by Picasa

my favorite malt liquor and unpredictable live show. Posted by Picasa

Unleash The Cat

Back when everybody I knew had a futon, my friend Jason DeBacker and I used to go flyfishing until dark in the North Georgia mountains on weekends...then head back to our little town of Athens, Georgia to enjoy the nightlife. We didn't exactly keep rolls of hundred-dollar bills next to our toilets in the bathroom back then, so when a local hippie bar called El Centro began selling 40-ounce beers for a dollar, we were 'bout it like Republicans at church.

Only one snag in the planny plan plan: all of the Icehouse and Bud Light 40s would always be sold out by the time we got in the door...leaving us with only one choice: some business called WildCat Brew Malt Liquor. Yep. This fine alcoholic beverage had a picture of a scarey-azz black panther on the label and an instruction on the cap telling us to 'unleash the cat.'

It was beautiful. http://www.40ozmaltliquor.com/wildcat.html

We had the ability to drink in a decent social setting- or at least watch a bunch of dudes with String Cheese Incident T-shirts and girls rocking Lily Pulitzer dresses- and have full command over 80 ounces of malt liquor for a total price of $3 with tip.

With The Cat as our armour we could then wash the 7-11 taste out of our mouths with some Pinot or Cab or whatnot... and enjoy a music change from Widespread Panic to Toto and Stankonia...by making a venue change to the wonderful Last Resort Grill. And when I write that, I mean "the girls were way hotter there."

In other Cat-related news, Chan Marshall aka Cat Power's song 'Maybe Not' floors me. Was happy to see her in Echo Park in the fall, and I'm glad she got over those "health issues" to tour this spring. Much love.

Monday, April 03, 2006

HOLY SHIT (pt. 3)

http://banananutrament.blogspot.com/2005/06/re-girls-girls-attention-all-girl.html


whoever did this prank is an absolute genius. right up there with einstein.

I Wish I Had A Car

Free New York Dolls/Army Navy show at Spaceland tonite! Saw all of 5 mins of the NYDzz in Austin last year before I took off to another show---I wanna say Spoon and/or Robert Plant? Either way, head out to Silverlake to peep this---it won't cost nothin'.

In other news, Two Gallants play the Troub tommorrow, and I'm sad I missed BRMC on Sunday...

pic of the week- don't ever mess with a Wu-Tang member when they're approaching the tee. Posted by Picasa

Too Cool To Dance

Brian Howe's story on Pitchfork

http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/features/live/c/clap-your-hands-say-yeah-06/

perfectly illustrates what's wrong with many non-mainstream music aficionados- that they're elitist, snobbish, and need a good punch in the face. Mr. Howe makes a good point-namely, that some people hate on bands based on social factors rather than the quality of the music. Yes, the show he attended was also attended by a kid who ran happily around the stage and then stage-dove. Kinda cheesy I guess, but THE KID WAS HAVING FUN. The best thing about live shows/DJs/dance parties/music in general is that it makes you happy. A sign of a great party/a great show/whatever is that people in attendance are having fun and not giving a shit.

The sad thing is that this elitism is deep in every non-mainstream scene. Kids at Widespread Panic and Trey Anastasio shows brag about how many shows they've seen, how long they've been a fan, how many times they've been 'on tour,' etc. to make themselves sound cooler than the next wannabe-trust-fund hippie. Backpack rappers put down Kanye and the Roots for (gasp!) doing something different than beats and rhymes. 'Punk music' is nothing but a tired formula, but as soon as any band deviates from what Black Flag did in '82 they get ripped on by kids. Legions of Metallica fans got mad when they cut their hair. And I'm not even going to touch indie-rock scenesters...they are the worst offenders of this kinda shit.

All of this 'hey, i'm an OG fan' talk stems from a lack of self-esteem. that's it.

You are not cooler than anyone because you have seen some band or heard of some shit.

sorry.

If you hear of some new music and love it, share it with friends. Maybe they'll be as happy as you are when they hear it sometime. I love that my friends who live in different countries are rocking out to some shit right now... that they would have never known about... if I hadn't given them a CD. I love it when someone gives me new stuff (or new old stuff) to listen to. I love the feeling of really digging a new track.

Mr. Howe, if you ever come to a show and i'm there, and it's a band I really like, I'll be easy to find. I'll be the one who snuck in or got free tickets, 'cause I'm broke. I'll be the motherfucker who took two trains from Orange fucking County to get there. I don't care what others do-
but I'll be the one in the front with a big smile on my face. Come bother me, hell, I'll give you a quote. And yes, if the occasion permits, I will be jumping around and dancing, 'cause that's what I like. Music moves me and makes me smile.

Being cool and trying to be cool are very different things.

Rant over.
The time was eleven-thirty five. It was time to ride out into the openness of the ghost town. I needed to clear my head and search for a specific something. I escape the confines of my small cardboard apartment and into the cool night air. The temperature cooled me. In a good way. I recently changed steeds; from a 1950's beach cruiser to a late-nineties mountain bike. The cruiser was (and is) beautiful. The mountain bike is extremely ugly. Of course, the cruiser rides like shit and the mountain bike is smooth and effortless. It is extremely quiet outside. Quiet like Kansas. This may be hard to believe, but where I live absolutely shuts down at night. It's beautiful. People and noise are nowhere to be found.

Tonight the sky is cloudless. Many nights are like this. The aggregation of population means that there is a ring around the edge of the sky like an orange rind. Only in the middle can you see stars. I pump the pedals of my bike smoothly. I escape. My mission tonight is simple: find a large piece of plywood or the equivalent to use as a canvas. I'm way too broke to buy one.
Unfortunately, because I have so specific of a request, I will probably fail. I don't care. I live right by the railroad tracks, so there are tons of warehouses that loom large at night around me. They are like aircraft carriers; cold and metal and built for function.

The cold mixed with the lack of people is almost eerie. It's as if people don't exist; all of their specialized accoutrements and dwellings remain but there is no sign of anyone, anywhere. I think about how this is what the Earth would look like if we all died from some sort of disease or something, suddenly.

My mind wanders and the rhythms of riding begin to soothe my brain, which has been racked from law school pressure. The cement is smooth as it makes contact with the tires.

I stare at some of the houses; most of them look very small and sad. I think about the people who live in these little boxes, across from the warehouse and the train tracks; do they do anything important? Do they like what they do? Are they happy? I hope so, but I think not.

During the day my area is a madhouse; an ant hill stirred up by a five-year-old with a stick. Kids scream outside and run around aimlessly. They smile. Adults drive around aimlessly. They scream only occasionally, but they do not smile. The feeling during the day is one of motion; the feeling at night is one of rest.

This is why it feels good to move in the stillness.

I do not find any plywood.

As I re-enter my apartment complex and stride towards my door, I notice the only sound I have heard in the last hour that did not come from my bike tires or the occasional car---

It is the muffled windy chatter of the Five and Twenty-Two freeways.
It sounds almost like the ocean.

Sunday, April 02, 2006


For aesthetic reasons I posted pictures of two lovely watches to counteract the nastiness caused by the Zenith picture. Posted by Picasa

the opposite of the zenith. Posted by Picasa

don't look at this if you just had dinner Posted by Picasa

More Heinous Stuff

I just saw a picture of the new watch offered by Zenith, the high-end Swiss watch company that makes the amazing El Primero in-house chronograph. The El P is the chrono that until recently also sat in such high-dollar watches as the Rolex Daytona.

three things came to mind-

if you want something 'wacky' get an alain silverstein. (sp?)
when did rubber and plastic become high-end watch materials?
this watch would be stunning. if you were on mescaline.

like some other things in life, this stuff looks all classy at first, but takes your money and tastes like shite.  Posted by Picasa

Nasty Wine Review

How 'come every time you read a wine review it sounds like the dude's about to orgasm? It's like those Motor Trend articles where they review Ferraris and Porsche Carrera GT's; they're always like "the car handles sublimely, the engine growls and purrs." Well, no shit, dumbass, it's a fuckin' Ferrari. Lemme guess, the sky is also blue if you live in so. cal. and Selma Hayek is hot.

Here I review a wine that I think sucks. Stay away from it.

It's an 04 Blason De Bourgogne from Trader Joe's. To it's credit, it was only $7, but paying seven dollars to taste this is not a bargain.

This stuff has no body--it has the consistency of lemonade. It's initial palate attack does not happen---as it's 'going down,' you can't really taste anything. The back of your palate senses the acidity and the wine tastes 'flat.' The finish is what puts this into the 'sucky' category--it is a slightly soapy feeling mixed with lemonade that's been in the fridge too long. Don't confuse this with 'tannins,' my good readers- Turley Zin exhibits tannins, This is sour. This is dusty and musty. Thank God the finish and tastes don't linger on the palate for more than a minute. The alcoholic taste of this 13% wine is very apparent, unlike many other cheap Pinots and Monastrells.

If you're broke, even the various wines with animals and cartoon characters on their labels do better than this--they may be jammy/fruity/one-dimensional, but at least most of them don't have any negative flavors. I'm using this ish for sauce.

Feed Your Face

Sorry about not posting in the last couple of days---I have been doing mad research for a trial brief and haven't had time to mess around with this...but here's something at least semi-interesting- how to make some good pasta. This shit is what i just got done eating for dinner.

Here's what you need:

1 can of tomato paste
a handful of fresh basil
two roma tomatoes
good quality olive oil
(doesn't have to be some boutique shit but not the 5-gallon bucket stuff, if you can help it.)
handful of arugula
fresh soft cheese- camemebert is better than brie, and fresh mozzarella is better than both.
1 green pepper
salt/pepper
butter

penne pasta

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

boil h2o, put pasta in h20 until 'al dente'
at the same time, slice the pepper longways (so that the pieces look like little 'l's' or bananas)
dice one of the tomatoes, slice the other into 50-cent piece chunks.
mince/slice/obliterate the basil.
wash all veggies first.

heat up saute pan on high with butter/olive oil mix--not a ton, just enought to grease the pan and give the veggies some flavor.

put the peppers in the pan first--use 1/2 pepper if cooking for one, the whole pepper if cooking for two.

cook the peppers for a short time on highest heat. they're done when they are brown on the edges.

then add the basil (mince it first) the tomato paste (use 1/2 can for 1 person, the whole can if cooking for 2) the tomatoes, and a dash more of olive oil. salt and pepper to taste.

when the tomato chunks start losing shape/breaking up, and air bubbles start forming on top of the mix you're done.

make sure the noodles are done like you want them (this usually happens before the veggies are done) then pour the veggies on top of the pasta.

Garnish with a few pieces of arugula and chunks of the cheese all over. let the cheese melt, then eat. it's good. The cheese is key here; i used camembert 'cause i didn't have mozzarella in the house---it worked out good---the texture and tast of the cheese and the cold arugula mix unexpectedly well with the warm pasta and sauce....it's kinda like when you find out that this nerdy Old Navy kid from your Civ Pro class tells you he likes Explosions In the Sky----you're suprised at first but then you figure out it's kind of cool. Also make sure to cut the pepper long rather than dicing it---the size works well with the penne. enjoy.