saturday night, june the first, was meant for fanciness.
i think it says so somewhere.
...besides here, i mean.
being home alone doesn't mean i can't get expert anyway.
i'm just sayin'.
i suppose i decided to get all elitist food magical just because
i don't really feel compelled to make any art,
but the creativity is still at a hard roiling boil inside the big cauldron
of makey wizard conjuration and sh!t.
it has to find an outlet somewhere,
and if that outlet means massive quantities of life-sustaining comestibles,
which will end up back inside me, refueling the fires to even hotter hottness;
well, i guess that beats sketching by a small margin, huh?
june first rabbit rabbit freshness for my face was in F*ing full effect though.
i went after it, neighbors, and i got what i was getting at.
check the teleport:
that's a taco, before it gets folded over.
and it's got everything good in one place.
alfalfa and radish sprouts, red peppers, red onions, little bitty grape tomatoes,
shredded lettuce spiked with cilantro, agave-glazed fried pumpkin seeds,
and two black bean cakes with chee' and scallions-
all of which rested on a corn and wheat, pan-fried homemade soft tortilla.
check the cornflour teleport:
high-heat fried in some butteryishness to get it all gussied up.
i doo-doo that giant yellow round bread-type sh!t.
i also got busy getting those black beans bombs activated.
teleport to the world of woodsly goodburgers:
what does it take to make those so sexy?
a whole can of frijoles, minced red pepper, minced jalapeno pepper,
onion, cilantro, oil, smoked hot sweet paprika, g.p.o.p. scallions,
soy flour, salt, and pepper all make for a perfect mushy mound.
i cooked 'em up,
and the whole house smelled like a june first party.
except it was a party of one.
oh, stop it-
the meal was still a great success,
probably because of the perfect blend of flavor, texture,
i ate two of those heavy nutrient-laden footlong tacos, in a row.
twenty four inches of flour and maize and fillings an' all.
that's no jokes.
they look impressive folded, too:
two of 'em, like i just told you.
disappeared right down the hatch.
sharkbites and python swallows and animal savagery.
i believe in nature, i guess.
the right amount is always more.
any day in june, goon.
i'm putting time and energy into the mundane aspects of my days.
i want it ALL to go to eleven.
personal style is very flippin' important,
especially when you're otherwise F*ed-up looking on the outside.
that's doubly true when you're also old, busted, and broken on the inside.
trust me, y'all.
if it wasn't for all this active participation and real-life documentrianism,
i'd vanish under a bridge or into a cave with the rest of the monsters.
without all this really realness, and super-extravagant overindulgence;
without the competent communication, and worthy warrior poetry,
i'd just be another skeletal stump creature.
lucky for all of us, i'm freaking it off, but in a good way.
what i do becomes what i am, right?
i guess if i'm gonna stay ugly, i've also gotta stay dope.
i keep on saying it, and i keep doing it.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....