Monday, January 20

s-s-s-s-sucio!

spanish sunday?
is that real?
i dunno.
sucio sunday, though.
y'noiw,
like, dirty domingo?
yeah.
that dirty-dirty sunday fun is definitely a thing.
while most weak-sauce sorcerers were watchin' sports,
and enjoying day two of a three day weekend,
i had a dream, duders.
yes.
i did.
i dreamed a little dream of dirty brown blops in my bellyhole.
and i made it come true like a no-jokin' kitchen expert.
yes, i did.
i get ideas, and i make moves.
and when i'm movin', i'm shakin',
and when i'm movin' and shakin',
i'm also stirrin'.
huh?
i rep a lot of pots and pans on all the burners and broilers at once.
jeez.
if it doesn't go to eleven,
it doesn't go where i'm headed, now does it?
nope.
so we keep it turned up, neighbors.
i won't allow for waterbabied doo-doo butter on my plate.
and that means i've got to get all of it going,
and harder and faster and louder and fresher, at that.
word up.
check the sucio-sunday-type teleport:
yeah.
white corn grits got gelled up into a pure pancake of polenta.
and that is delicious,
especially when pan-fried with a pat of butterific vegany spreadability.
mmmmmmmm.
there's secret red sauce,
but the secret is- it's just a jar of wet spicy sh!t.
womp womp.
however,
the super-sweety baby bell peppers and seitan was elite.
chewy wheat-meat chunks, simmered in three kinds of onions,
plus g.p.o.p. and green leafy sprankles?
....smart.
and, of course,
there were beans.
because beans are good for you.
y'ever had pinto beans that go to eleven?
yum4tum, kids,
they're called roman beans, and they're bigger and burlier,
and they came, they sauteed, and they conquered.
oh, c'mon.
with arugala and spinach and hot peppers, and spicy spices,
and nootch, for those superlative tastiness jauns.
yeah.
i'm on that cooking sh!t like it's my private obsession an' that.
hmmmm?
oh, yeah,
the salad.
black olives, kalamata olives, cucumbers,
sungold yellow grape-tomatoes, finely diced white onions,
cilantro, parsley, and red wine vinegar?
uh-huh.
anyone can have a generic sunday.
it doesn't even take any imagination at all.
i can't hang out with any of that, though.
i've got time at home that cries out for active participation,
and polenta pancakes,
and broiled muthaflippin' endive to ingest.
(that's that white pointy thing on the far right side, dummy)
wu-TANG!
i'm ON it, y'all.
making the minutes i've been given matter more by imposing
magic on the mundane.
it's not just dinner if you don't allow it to be.
this is the time i've got for doing things,
and this is what i'm doing with that time;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: