so maybe i was hasty.
all Bad Brains, an' that.
y'know,
with the quickness, yeah?
i dissed and dismissed one thing too many yesterday.
it's true,
and i can almost always admit when i'm wrong.
and i was wrong.
why?
because i added a little terrific tortilla tastiness
inadvertently into my tyrannical tirade.
when issuing decrees, i sometimes get carried away.
i apologize.
i should've thought ahead just a little bit further, ya'll.
because,
if there is actually one thing i have in common with
fat, quasi-literate, jockstrap pinchin', A*-hole sports fans,
it is clearly the ubiquitous adopted mexican delicacy:
delicioso, gringos! i got those LIBRE jauns, amigos.
black history beans,
refried beans,
black history olives,
fire-roasted chiles,
imitation chickenish strips,
vegan taco filling blops,
hot sauce, (c'mon)
and dos types of salsa.
the wifey used some gay-o soya-queso, too.
that's some eagle's eggs powers-type sh!t,
and a whole helluva lot of nutrients.
get that corn into my face...
it kinda looks like some fraggle rock ragnarok action.
gorg gorging gluttony an' all.
staring at the mountain of piping hottness,
i almost expected two rats to pop out
and tell me the trash heap had spoken.
i mean it,
that's a filthy pantload of dirty diaper dopeness.
easily five full pounds of food,
and aside from the crunchy corn circles down under,
it looks like it's already been chewed!
that's economy of action, really.
bite, swallow, bite, swallow.
chew?
c'mon.
sharks don't chew.
it would be safe to assume we brought the thunder.
...and so did montezuma, duders.
not some much revenge as a stern warning.
luckily,
merit points were awarded for supporting indigenous artisans.
(the sink, kids. hecho en mexico. recognize)
aside from the shrapnel of some soggy salsa-sorcery,
we tuned-up the whole heap, too.
FAT.
that's how we live.
not so much in the wallet area,
or even along the beltline...
but on the inside.
that's word.
my infinite nature is four hundred pounds, ninjas.
***********
remember julius caesar?
you know,
sneator/farmer/general/empror/conqueror?
yeah, him.
not only did that ninja bring the noise,
and coin the phrase 'fortune favors the BOLD',
he also is partially responsible for taking the calendar
to eleven.
it's true.
that's my kind of peoples, ya'll.
before him, and his flashy ways,
there were only ten months.
all the way to december-remember your latin?
deca = 10.
now it's the twelfth month.
then, between june and september (septa = 7),
the romans snuck in july.
before augustus showed up, an' that.
from ten months to eleven.
just like that.
later on, august got slid in as well.
but you can't have twelve without eleven first.
certain folks are just so dope.
usually, later on though,
their friends stab 'em up.
hard.
of course,
it's still a ways away from mid-march.
hmmmm,
i wonder if i should reconsider my minnesota trip?
(et tu, hebrankus?)
hahahahahahaha;
c'mon;
never quiet, never soft.....
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