scandelicious.

whaaaat?
did i break the oaths of tradition?
did i do the undo-able?
have i disrespected the sanctity of my vow?
y'know, the promise of special moments,
exclusively shared in the presence of my peoples.
what i mean is:
did i make broccoli bread when my kids weren't here?
F* no.
what do you think i am?
an A-hole?
c'mon.
when it comes to shoving something awesome
inside some other awesome thing,
...well,
how can i best express the truth of this reality?
i'm the man.
that's soysage, mushroom, and spinach bread, b!tches.
and it is totally mutha-flippin' delicious.
it's got that earthy, moist and crunchy crust, kids.
it's got the savory smoke-stained sauteed soy bits,
it's got the spiffy spankin'-fresh steamed spinach,
and it's got garlic-simmered criminis, mutha-uckas.
yep. criminis.
luxury mushrooms.
relax,
i got the sweet inside information.
duders,
it's right there in everyone's face,
and nobody notices.
i watched the sweatpants shoppers buying mushrooms.
no joke,
i stood there for a little while,
just scoping out the scene.
the ultimately skanky cats were all about the white button jauns.
obviously.
so disregard their contributions at all costs.
more interestingly,
the regular ladies got down on baby bellas.
but the crackery white moms?
straight for the criminis.
the loose ones, even.
y'know, the bag-your-own basket of fanciness.
i'm serious.
the identically sized assortments were stacked all in a row.
there was literally no difference in appearance.
at all.
now,
i've said this before,
but it bears repeating:
baby bellas, ya'll,
weigh in at a couple bucks for a lb.
that's relatively inexpensive.
criminis, however,
run around $6-$7 dirty dollars a pound.
but,
they're the exact same mushrooms.
not even comparitively similar.
they're the same ones.
no really, look:
truth tellers can never stop.
what's in a name?
about five dollars.
i can see the hesitancy in purchasing the less-than-luxurious.
after all,
baby versions of anything are way more trailery.
remember the muppet babies?
yeah, i rest my case.
but if i'm obviously getting over on a deal,
why does this irritate me so much?
because nobody notices the difference.
we're being told that the same old sh!t is two separate things.
that's troubling.
if nobody can see the the underlying similarities,
the comparisons and contrasts,
then what's to say it stops at mushrooms?
or movie remakes?
or worse, cover songs?
we're being re-gifted our own unwanted history.
a little editing, a different name, some cellophane,
and all of a sudden,
there's nothing new anymore.
just repackaged pre-existence.
old ways are good ways,
but they aren't new ways.
i hate that our culture is nostalgic for it's own todays.
rediscovery implies losing something first.
like, maybe losing sight of what's really happening.
there's a certain distance that must be traveled
before the natural cycles restart themselves.
the point of no return.
when you've crossed the midway marker,
and you're closer to the finish than to the starting point.
the earth spins on it's axis,
the moon spins around the earth,
the earth spins around the sun.
concentric, overlapping, ghost circling smoke-rings.
that's time-spanning.
that's life cycles.
that's what's poppin'.
that's how it goes.
i'm reppin' Fok Life, kids.
buying the trailery baby bellas,
getting that crimini value,
and saving those dollars.
it's cool, i know the difference.
never mind all that back to the future crap,
i'm going forward into the past.
old ways, ya'll.
worthy. real. rural. righteous.
stay portobello, my ninjas.
like big ass criminis.
like the antique roadway.
two different things.
both dope.
it's all really happening.
pay attention;
never quiet, never soft.....