murk.

here comes the sun?
not up here, duderonis.
a full saturday-long dismal, dark dreariness,
complete with drippy doses of deluges and doo-doo buttery drizzles,
makes for a diluted dose of weak sauce, for sure.
it looked like dusk for about seven hours,
from dawn 'til dark,
and then it went back to being completely lightless,
instead of just being almost totally lightless.
i thought that maybe making up a hot plate of
delicious italian pasta treats would help.
it might've.
only,
what i made was only 75% delicious.
damn you, broccoli rabe.
i'm sayin', ya'll;
if mean mr. mustard greens, kale stems,
and battery acid ever had a gene-splice accident,
even that would probably not F* my A* as hard as broccoli rabe.
white beans are bangin'.
tofurky soysages are kinda bangin'.
broccoli rabe is the devil's chlorinated hemorrhoids in full blossom.
that's just not bangin' at all. at all at all, even.
no jokin',
i activated the bitter-sweet-o-meter with a batch of blanching in boiling liquid.
i sauteed those bastardly b!tches in oily hottness.
i added the other other ingredients.
nothin'.
i got nothin'.
and so,
broccoli rabe is now O.T.L.
that's Off The List, ninjas.
and Off The List means Off The List.
irreversibly. irrevocably.
i'm checkin' the list, twice, like santa.
sorry, broccoli rabe, no entry for you,
i don't see your name anywhere on here.....
it's a sort of semi-solidarity stance with my buddy mr. hebrank.
only, i'm giving up something i won't miss even a little bit,
and he's giving up 10% of his whole image,
and probably saving 10% of his income.
what?
he loves dead birds so much,
he's going cold turkey on his obsessive-compulsive soda addiction.
c'mon.
(paying forward a karmic balance due for glue-trapping small mammals, perhaps?)
too bad he is fundamentally flawed, and hates the beatles.
...i swear it's true, he IS that F*ed up...
because maybe he could try asking sargeant pepper what to drink instead,
since i'm pretty sure the sarge outranks dr. pepper in the lists.
oh man.
and they thought the dude ON dr. p was a handful;
i'll bet minnesota isn't ready for the unfriendly version, kids.
the loudness and the hardness, all helter skelter, are comin' down fast.
that may be especially true over here.
broccoli rabe is actually somehow less horrible on the other end of the digestive tract.
if only because the second time i don't have to taste it.
the good part about crappy days?
no yard work.
so at least there's that;
never quiet, never soft....