Lorn Conner

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@reysbeskar What makes it a flop is that it’s not going to make its money back. Not even close. It will end its box office run somewhere between $200-$300 million in the hole.

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

My Chicken Recipe:

1st marinade:
3 lbs chicken tenderloins or breasts cut into strips
1 tsp baking soda
3 tsp salt
1/2 cup white distilled vinegar
water (to fill the bowl)

2nd marinade:
2 tbsp chilli sauce (sriracha)
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp hot sauce
2 tbsp white distilled vinegar
1/4 cup pickle juice
1 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp white pepper
1 tsp mustard powder
1/2 tsp red chilli flakes
1.5 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
2 tsp chicken seasoning (think powdered bouillon)
2 tsp salt
1 tsp red chilli powder

3rd Marinade:

In a large bowl, whisk 2 large eggs and a generous helping of buttermilk together. Leave room in the bowl for the remainder of the 2nd marinade and for chicken strips to be submerged.

Flour Mix:

(When done mixing the flour mix, divide in half - store the second half in a gallon zip lock bag. 1/2 of this mix is enough to make 1 helping of chicken strips - 5-6 strips)

3 cups plain flour
1 cup corn starch
1 tbsp black pepper
1 tbsp smoked paprika
1 tbsp sweet paprika
2 tsp mustard powder
2 tsp white pepper
2 tsp celery salt
1 tbsp garlic powder
2 tsp ginger powder
2 tsp onion powder
2 tsp salt
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried oregeno
1 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp sage
1/2 tsp marjoram
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp red chilli powder
1 tbsp chicken seasoning (think powdered bouillon)

Instructions:

1st Marinade:

Marinate tenderloins or strips in a large bowl. Submerge in the first marinade fully, resting in the refrigerator for half an hour. Drain and wash off excess salt & vinegar.

2nd Marinade:

Cover the chicken with the 2nd marinade and work with hands to fully coat. Cover & marinate in refrigerator for 3-5 hours.

3rd Marinade & Breading:

Using the wet and dry hand method, coat each of the strips in the flour mixture. When all of the strips have been removed from the 2nd marinade, pour the remainder of the the 2nd marinade into the egg and buttermilk mixture and whisk well. Submerge the strips into the 3rd marinade for 20-30 seconds, pull out and drain, then coat in the flour mixture again. The double-breading will result in fuller flavor and a crunchier breading.

Frying:

I use corn oil. Heat corn oil in fryer to between 340-350 degrees F. Submerge strips in batches, 2:30 - 3:00 minutes per side, flipping at each mark.

Place on wire racks to drain and cool.

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

This isn’t all of it, but it is most of it:

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@dhasbrouck29 Yes.

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

Guess what i’m making?

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@liquidfox85 I’ll try tp share it when i’m done frying, but be warned - it’s complicated.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

USA. A potluck. Everyone brings one dish. I have never been so out of my depth in my life.

I was invited to a gathering. "Just bring a dish to share," they said. Simple words. I did not sleep for three days.

Because I understood instantly what this was. A summit. Every guest, a lord of their own house, arriving bearing tribute. And tribute is judged. Tribute is ranked. To bring the wrong dish to the wrong table is to fall in standing before your peers, possibly forever.

So I prepared. I made my finest dish. I carried it to the door with two hands and a straight back, braced for the weighing of my worth.

The first lord arrived with a bowl of orange powder noodles. Macaroni and cheese. The crowd roared. He set it down at the center of the table. The CENTER. I noted this. The center is the seat of power.

The second lord brought a tower of small brown meat orbs in red sauce. "Meatballs," he announced, like a man laying down a sword. They were placed beside the macaroni. A strong showing. An alliance, perhaps.

I studied the table like a battlefield map. Potato salad: defensive, reliable, old money. A vegetable tray, untouched, clearly a hostage offering no one expected to win. And then a woman walked in, raised a flat box overhead, and the entire room turned and CHEERED.

Pizza. She had brought pizza. Store-bought. Still in the box.

I was stunned. She had not even cooked it. And yet the people rejoiced as if a king had entered. I revised my entire understanding of the hierarchy on the spot. Effort means nothing here. Only the roar of the crowd decides rank.

I placed my dish down, humbly, near the napkins. A peasant's position. I accepted it.

And then a man tapped my shoulder, pointed at my dish, and said the words that changed everything.

"Whoa, did you make this? This is amazing. Everybody, you GOTTA try this guy's thing."

The room turned. The room came. The room ATE. My dish vanished in ninety seconds. The pizza woman herself took a second helping and looked at me with respect.

I had won the summit. By accident. With a dish I placed by the napkins.

I understand nothing about this country. I have never been happier. I am hosting the next one.

So tell me, America.

Is there a system to the potluck? A secret rank? A hidden law?

I have decided there is not.

You just bring the thing you love, and everyone eats it, and somehow everybody wins.

It is the most insane way to hold a war.

I will fight in every single one.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

USA. A backyard. One man guarding a grill for four hours.

He never left it once.

Everyone else drifted and drank and laughed. But one man stood alone before the flames, turning meat with a long fork, immovable. I knew him at once. The keeper of the sacred fire.

I took my place beside him and said nothing. After a while, he spoke.

"Low and slow," he said, eyes on the coals. "You can't rush it. Rush it, you ruin it."

I bowed my head. A blade, a tea, a life. None can be rushed. I had crossed four thousand miles to hear my grandfather's words from a man in a "KISS THE COOK" apron.

"Everything worth doing is slow," I agreed.

He glanced at me. Something passed between us.

"My wife says just use the oven." He shook his head at the fire. "She doesn't get it."

"They never do," I said.

And this is where it turned.

For the first time in years, this man had been understood. And he rose to meet it. His back straightened. His voice dropped low. A teenager reached for the grill and the man lifted one hand without even looking. "Not yet." The boy retreated. He was becoming what I already believed him to be.

A woman asked when the food would be done. "It's ready when it's ready," he told the flames.

Three people approached. Three were turned away with a single word. By the fourth hour, no one questioned him. The whole party had arranged itself around the man and his fire, the way a village arranges itself around a shrine.

Then he handed me the fork.

"Watch it a sec. I gotta pee."

I have been trusted with castles.

I have never been more honored.

He served everyone before himself, and ate last, standing, still watching the coals. We never traded names. We did not need to.

He believed he had finally met a man who took his cooking seriously.

I believed I had finally met America's last samurai.

Neither of us will ever correct the other.

So tell me, America.

Who is the man at your gathering who will not leave the grill?

Have you ever once asked him why?

I think he is still standing there.

Guarding the fire.

Waiting for one person to understand.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In America, a stranger will rename you in a single breath, and you are simply expected to come when called.

I went to eat at a busy restaurant. A young man at the front asked for my name, to mark my place in line. I gave it the weight it has carried for eight hundred years.

"Nobunaga."

He smiled, nodded, and wrote it down with great confidence. Then he read it back to me, to be sure he had honored it correctly.

"Perfect. Banana, party of one."

Banana. He had heard my name, held it a moment, and returned to me something rounder and more cheerful. To refuse the name a host gives is to refuse his welcome. I bowed. I was Banana now.

Then he handed me a small black disc, said it would "light up and buzz" when my table was ready, and turned to the next guest as though he had not just placed a living thing in my hands.

I held it in both palms, the way one holds a small sleeping beast that may wake. I found a place to stand. I waited, ready.

It woke.

It screamed. It flashed red. It leapt and shook in my hands like a captured spirit demanding release. A lesser man would have dropped it. I did not. I gripped it, steady, looked into its blinking lights, and told it, in a low voice, that its time had come. Then I carried it back to the host with both hands, the way one returns a hawk to its master.

He took it without looking and shouted across the entire room.

"BANANA! Party of one, your table's ready!"

A hundred strangers turned. I rose. I crossed that floor as Banana, spine straight, chin level, a man answering to his name. A child pointed at me. I gave the child a small bow. He had recognized me.

All through the meal they kept me. "How's it tasting, Banana?" "More water, Banana?" The check, when it came, said Banana, and thanked me for visiting. By the end the whole staff knew me. They waved as I left. "Night, Banana!"

So tell me honestly.

For eight hundred years my clan answered to one name. Tonight I answered to a fruit, calmed a screaming relic in my bare hands, and ate among people who were glad I came.

When the little disc lights up, is the table truly mine, or am I only keeping it warm for the next Banana?

Because I have already decided to return on Friday, and to ask, very humbly, for the same disc.

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@delafresh67 @RealLifeFakeWiz @MarvinMontanaro @ForceofLightEn1 @NatalieRGrace @ValliantRenegad He stores it in his portable hole!

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@slythwalker_28 And Ahsoka. And Skeleton Crew. And The Acolyte. And Mando S3. And TFA, TLJ, TROS, and Solo. Almost forgot Obi-Wan! But yeah, other than that, they’re doing GREAT!

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

@TatooineSons You sure will!

[Nerdola Vader @NerdolaVader]

A Isabela Boscov está certa quando diz que não dá para ficar apenas no "mais do mesmo", pois isso aniquila a criatividade. No entanto, ela comete o mesmo erro dos produtores da Disney: culpar os fãs. Star Wars é sobre o bem contra o mal, uma jornada de queda e ascensão, onde a Força opera como a fé e a dinâmica entre mestre e aprendiz mostra que nada é por acaso. É a velha e tradicional jornada mitológica do herói, algo que a Disney simplesmente não respeitou.

A Trilogia Sequel resolveu relativizar o mal ao tornar o embate entre luz e trevas mais cinzento do que o normal, criou uma protagonista (Rey) que pisa na cara dos mestres e recebe seus dons sem qualquer mérito, a Força foi tratada como "feminina" e acabou rendendo atrocidades como The Acolyte, e o Luke Skywalker foi transformado em um covarde apenas para alavancar a figura da Rey, tudo se tornou conveniente... tipo aquele beijo entre Kylo Ren e Rey.

Se eles deturparam uma franquia extremamente querida e com décadas de existência, por que diabos iam merecer reações positivas? a desconfiança não é forçada.

[J. Jonah Jameson @JustthefactsJJ]

Time I address the elephant in the room…..There I was, trying to enjoy a Mets game like a normal American. And who shows up sitting behind me? THAT WALL-CRAWLING MENACE! And what is he doing? Save the city? OH NO!!! SITTING IN PREMIUM SEATS PROBABLY PAID FOR BY MY TAX DOLLARS!!!

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

I think you need to look up the definition of the word “ethical.” The ability of those thousands of talented people to continue to work depends entirely on producing a product the audience wishes to consume and is willing to pay for. Lying to try and cover for lousy work product ensures angry customers and diminishing returns, threatening their ability to continue to work in the future. There’s nothing ethical about it.

[MLB @MLB]

"He's a menace ... I WANT SPIDER-MAN!"

J.K. Simmons is at the Mets game tonight and ran into a familiar face 😂

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

It’s going to be a long, long day…

[Meidas_Charise Lee @charise_lee]

This is hilarious

[Lorn Conner @LornConner]

Another wild thought just occurred to me. If salt is so rare on the planet that Mando went to - so rare that it’s extremely valuable, in fact - i’ll bet the food in Martin Scorsese’s food truck was AWFUL.