Monday, May 6


i actually just can't help myself.
for real.
it turns out, after careful observation of my actions,
i am kind of a showboat, and a bit of a pr!ck.
it's a true story i'm telling right here, neighbors.
i mean, sure,
i could just settle.
y'know, like be willing to accept good enough instead of better than ever...
except that i'm a freestyle do-it-all-the-way-live get-fresh worthy warrior poet
of really real life and active participation;
taking it to eleven and getting expert means rising up above
and getting over the tippy-top of the everyday plateaus
that regular, boring, average 1-10-scale 9-5ers believe in.
brutal berserker barbarian battle-beastly barnstorming bards have to go farther
and take it further and make sure it's fresh(er)
and loud(er), and that the styles are all even harder than all that has gone on before.
that's real talk from the woodsly goodness, kids-
too much is the right amount,
and the object, as always, is MORE.
and that sort of thing as an ideology prohibits the administering of lukewarm lazy
sub-hottness in the form of mincey weak-sauce nancy-pants waterbabyism.
that said,
i made some magic happen in my kitchen yesterday that should seriously
make you molto jealous.
in fact, that's sort of the point.
with a minimum of preparation and a modicum of masterful activation,
cinco celebration jauns got poppin' at the Folk life & Liberty Fortress!
have i ever mentioned that i think it's more than just okay to be sober all the time?
because if i haven't,
let me say it now-
it's okay NOT to drink.
i mean,
if ever i was gonna be a boku big drinkies-type duder,
it would've been the last year of unimaginably ugly truths
and interminably long and lonely nights.
but instead,
i just kind of endured every grotesque minute in it's pure uncut form.
awwwwwwwwwww, man.
i'm sure that i'm a better bitter man for my trouble?
romantic iocane is hard to build immunity to, but i'm trying.
that doesn't mean i don't want to get rad on some flavorful treats,
sans the muddying effects of generic good-time/bad-time inebriation.
lots of words are happening.
sorry. ...kinda.
just check the virgin teleport:
c'mon, y'all.
a no-jito mojito fizzy flavorized glassful of awesome.
i bruised my mint, i used three kinds of lime juices,
including the fresh-squeezed drips of those little baby key drops,
and a slice of mini-madarine to make it even more elite.
there's simple sugars at work in there,
and a sprig of spearmint to take it up a notch in garish garnish.
like i said, kids-
i'm grandstanding to an absent audience,
and taking sips of sweet wizardly green wetness for my face!
word up.
oh, yeah...
and then i brought an odin-sized batch of stormswept savage gypsy dinnertime
thunder and lightning down on my kitchen.
check the green white red and brown (mexico-type) teleport:
F*ing right, my ninjas.
did i cook grits up and let them set in a shallow circle?
i sure did.
did i pan-fry the finished product into a crisp corn bottom-b!tch base for my beans?
don't be dumb- you can clearly see that.
and speaking of frijoles y habichuelas-
red and black beans, with three kinds of smoky sh!t in 'em?
chipotle ho' sauced-smoked sweet paprika powedered-apple-smoked sea salted!
it was so so SO good.
and with peppers, stewed tomatoes, chiles, onions, garlic,
toma-flippin'-tillos, cilantro, and a blast nootch all combined together
to make a little ranchero-style vegetable stew?
(it goes along with the beans, to activate the nutrients, y'heard?)
come ON!!
oooh, are those white corn tortillas with beans and faux-chee',
broiled to a crispy crunchy roasted toasty outside shell, with gooey goodness inside?
they certainly are.
and that's homestyle salsa fresca blopped on top of 'em.
what do you guys know about cilantro and green peppers and key limes as garnish?
you know you like it.
the whole idea was to do it more beautifully than you.
cinco de mayo was a success.
if you measure success in good meals and decent conversation and non-alcoholic drinks.
lucky for me,
that's exactly how i measure success.
today is the day, kids.
my off-time is looming large in front of me,
just out of reach, but drawing nearer.
one more long day,
and it's baking and making and giving and taking until thursday.
i'm on my way,
roads to nowhere, highways to hell, and mean streets are what's up;
never quiet, never soft.....

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