squeaky wheels.

toasted sesame oil is kinda rad.
it's like burnt peanuts mixed with china or some sh!t.
i'm sayin'.
it's good.

i've said it before...
there's kind of a lot of things i don't do.
especially compared to the regular mcburgery sports-fan flag-waver crowd.
but,
more often than not,
i'm more concerned with what i do do. (doo-doo)
because really,
that's much more of an identity to be proud of.
i'm a book-reading, food cooking, barbarian bonfire lighting, dollmaking warrior poet,
who just happens to focus on vegetables, dungeons, dragons, and unclouded mindstates.
in general,
i find that vegans and drug-free-types only yell the loudest,
and get the proudest,
about what they aren't doing.
we don't drink.
we don't eat meat.
we don't watch t.v.
whatever.
i haven't gotten down on any of those generic waterbaby pastimes in forever and a day.
i don't usually ever even think about it,
unless i'm around other vegan eaters or non-drinkers.
then,
it's the compare and contrast contest.
who's more vegan, who's less drug-free.
you win, nitpickers.
seriously.
enjoy it.
you're doing the least.
congratulations an' that.
that is some sh!t-salad-tossing weak b!tchbag asstardation.
i'm more psyched on what i'm cooking in my kitchen than what's missing from my fridge;
i care about what i read, and draw, build and burn instead of spending those nights barhopping;
and i'm definitely more into the performance art
of creating uncomfortably comedic situations,
instead of crouching couchbound and down, watching scripted situation comedies.
i mean,
active participation involves gettin' busy with your big bad business, yeah?
so really,
who gives a hot turd what you abstain from gettng all up on?
why am i rehashing all this "alike/unlike" action?
we've got some new vegan straight-edge transplants in town.
there's always someone who points out, in front of the newcomers,
how jess and i are the local elder statesmen of meatless sobriety.
apparently, we've been elected to the welcoming commitee-
they always leave out that we're unfriendly hermits of solitude,
and hard-hearted haters,
and woodsly battle-beasts who shun encounters like the sasquatch.
i promise we have less in common than you'd think.
it just doesn't look good for a comradery connection based solely on similar diets,
or rah-rah-rah music-based subcultural identification.
so while it's only too-true that i won't eat a grilled cheese,
i will still totally kick a dog in it's hairy butthole if it deserves it, broken toe or not;
and while i can appreciate the idealism behind remaining 'nailed to the X',
even after turning 21,
i'm more apt to summon up the really-realism and nail it to XI....
whilst doing a rootin'-tootin' root beer kegstand.
if a vegan eats a salad in the forest and no one is around to make a recycled tote bag with a clever slogan about it,
is the dressing still delicious?
my dudes are the ones who doo-doo what they do,
whatever the F* it is,
without an allegiance-swearing t-shirt announcing it to the world.....
you know the drill,
my worthy warriors of windswept woodsliness,
just be dope, first,
then we'll worry about what's for lunch;
never quiet, never soft.....