salad days...

napa cabbage tossed with rice wine vinegar,
bean sprouts,
scallions,
cilantro,
toasted sesame seeds,
and sesame seed oil?
teleport:

that's a tall order of expert, kids.
what?
oh.
okay.
one salad isn't enough for your faces?
well,
what about pea shoots,
alfalfa sprouts,
radish sprouts,
belgian endive,
and kumquats,
all soaked in freshly-squeezed mineola orange juice,
and then topped with cashew-cream-lime dressing?
wordimus prime, neighbors!
teleport again:

yeah.
also,
you eat the whole kumquat!
the whole thing.
one little bite.
that's it.
tart insides, sweet peel, the works.
two types of high-nutrient high society asian activation,
because too much is the right amount.
saying goodbye to april is a lot easier with a full bellyhole,
and a satisfied faceful of crunchy green leafies.
that's real.
the showers are threatening to mar may day,
but the night ahead can downpour all it wants.
i'm inside and it's even kinda warm....
i'm dressed down for the dark parts
in my comfy-cozy sleepy loungewear,
and i'm cooking up a storm of my own, without the rain,
but with all the thunder you'd imagine was possible.
a hurricane force of culinary activation is underway,
and those big bowls are just the sides for a main event
en route bidding adios to this month.
kitchens, y'all.
that's where i belong,
and that's the way it goes;
never quiet, never soft.....

april showers.

only one day off a week,
and it's raining?
yeah.
i guess that's the way the woodsly goodness rewards it's
warrior poets, worthy wrights, weak sauce waterbabies
and wrongdoers alike.
wet, grey, foggy, soggy sloppy air and soil everywhere.
that's that.
but, then again,
if it's a day off, you might actually want to take it easy... no?
...no!
unless the anticipated outdoor action and the environment
can't cooperate to make sure that real person plans all
sync up with the secret universal plan that unfolds in it's own time.
i mean it.
people try their best, but nature wins-
and rain falls,
and yard work doesn't do itself-
no matter how hard you wish it would.
those tedious chores'll keep, kids,
but they won't improve with lost time,
and that's no joke.
rain or shine,
it has to happen eventually, though,
or this summer is gonna suck the fullest hardest ones.
....and obviously, that's not cool at all.
so removing last year's traces from the face of this year's growing
is the top priority regardless of the humidity and moisture content,
and the recalcitrant dew point and barometer.
yuck.
i'll admit my participation has been nominal thus far,
but if someone else seriously wants to scrape and scratch and slog
through mulch and moss and mud to make the gardens grow?
far be it from me to impede their progress and smother their fun.
therefore,
since amber loves making things neat and tidy,
i won't be the big dumb lazy obstacle making the lawn look worse
and leaving the leaves littered, y'know?
uh huh.
in my own self-serving sh!tty way,
i'm secretly kinda nice, neighbors.
that's a thing.
anyway,
it all gets done, because it has to.
when the flowerbeds are all made up,
and cleared of debris and sticks and overwintered wreckage,
it all comes together just right.
there's even mulch ready to get laid down.
yeah.
all the goodsly preparations are in order.
heck,
i even started removing all the awful saplings and suckers
that sprouted up during the years-long divorce-age hiatus
that i unintentionally took off.
time away from celebrating all the supreme hottness that
embodies the grounds of  the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
is definitely not time worth spanning.
but chopping tiny trees is definitely expert.
check the deforestation-type teleport:

woah!
what a faggot.
awwwww, c'mon.
there's no hate in this heart for the gayness,
and there's definitely no love for soil-depleting baby jerks.
word up.
***********
oat cakes and vietnamese sandwiches are how we round out a day like today.
it's dang cold outside,
and the weather has been threatening to suck even harder since this morning.
good food,
good people,
and good times are gonna happen anyway.
that's the trick, friends-
take the old and busted, the tired and the hurt,
and all the worst parts,
and use 'em to create something elite.
that's the way we doo-doo that make-your-fun-wherever-you-are-type sh!t.
yuuuuuup.
stay ugly, stay dope,
and make the minutes matter a whole mess more for the trouble.
it's all really happening,
and there are kumquats in the fracas, too.
that's taking the fight right to it;
never quiet, never soft..... 

tea time continues.

itty-bitty baby bundt bombs,
for your mutha-'ucking face!
ummmm,
but, like, i mean it.
check the teleport:

cute!!!!
c'mon, neighbors.
you like it, right?
well,
you should.
black tea-laced little domes of dopeness,
with a hinty-hint of orange zest just barely suggesting that
there's a citrus secret hiding inside your mouth.
yeah.
activated just that extra bit more with orange icing
drizzlin' down and around the dents and ditches,
and a blop of fancy frosting on the tippity-topmost point-
an indented butthole swirly spike of sweet vanilla consideration,
just to make it expert.
y'know?
yep.
too many black tea treats?
no way.
i'm ON it, friends.
with intention and focus and determination,
i'm gonna make sure that too much remains the only acceptable amount.
it may seem like all i'm doing is showing off desserts you can't have,
but you could always stop by, too, y'know?
active participation has it's rewards,
and a lot of those have frosting on them.
real talk;
never quiet, never soft.....

brown and beige go out together.

hey duders,
i just can't stop putting chocolate and peanut butter together.
seriously.
like,
all i ever want to taste in my mouth is both of those things at once.
and sure,
i do it often,
but i still feel like i could do it even more.
and i usually do, too.
and each and every time, it gets a bit better,
because if you aren't getting more rad with experience,
what are you doing, besides doing it wrong?
right?
ha.
yeah,
so this time,
it's stacks on stacks of brown on beige and so on,
with some of the best whipped peanut buttery sweet hottness
i've ever freestyled with my stand mixer.
i mean it.
check the triple-decker-type teleport:

neighbors,
that's what i'm all about right now.
i don't know how it happened,
but my imprecise estimated ingredient amounts created the evocation
of old time non-vegan reese's pieces candies.
that's for realsies.
at least,
twenty years later,
that frosty cream tastes exactly like my hazy memory of the stuff.
which,
in vegan approximation terms means it's totally expert.
yeah.
triple stacks of big burly barbarian brownie?
you betcha.
just because i got a new square-style muffin pan,
which makes for brownie edges on all sides;
and i'm pretty handy with a knife,
so more cuts is no big deal;
and two slices deep makes for twice as much filling,
and that's always a good idea.
mmhmmm.
what are those thick ropes of delicious cocoa ganache doing on top?
they're doing whatever the F* they want to,
which happens to be adding a whole extra tier of taste to those jauns.
yeah.
and what would overindulgence be without a goobieblop
of even MORE peanutty super-hottness?
it'd be weak waterbabyish doo-doo butter, that's what.
and we all know we aren't going to let that happen...
so more of it had to get activated.
obvi. otherwise, it'd only be a perfect ten,
and that's nowhere near enough.
it goes to eleven, because it has to.
***********
yeah.
and cake is dope.
and chocolate is good for you.
and peanut butter is expert.
that means it's triple decker triple threat treat magic for your face.
and that's the way it has to be.
i wish i knew what i added into that frosting,
because this stuff is the business.
i guess temporary transitive woodsly goodsly fleeting delights
will have to be enjoyed a little bit harder than usual,
to make up for the possibility of impossible future re-creation.
i think i like that even more.
this is it.
and that's that.
expert?
c'mon.
of course it is;
never quiet, never soft.....

black tea party.

cake.

mmhmm.

cake is dope.

and cake with that extra fresh crumb,

from both soy yogurt and vegan sour creaminess?

yeah.

that's that expert sh!t for sure.

so,

how do we amp up our cakey hottness even more?

well,

how about making miniature squares of corner-crisped activation?

yes!

that's a damned good start too,

but i'm feelin' a little british at the moment,

so i'm gonna need a whole other 'nother little bit of big action

to make sure it all goes all the way to eleven, or even more.

uh huh.

like what?

oh, 

i'll tell you like what, neighbors.

like this:

wu-TANG!

black tea-infused frosting,

and a goobieblop of raspberry jammie jam??!

you know it.

tea cakes for your flippin' face,

because i take names of things and make them mean new things.

that's how you know it's good.

*

i'll confess a little bit of information to you, kids...

but only because i tell true stories-

i used a basic muffin style batter,

and freaked it off with a smidgen more sugar,

and no literal liquid smotherizing, 

just thick faux dairy dollops all over the place.

y'know,

for that magical cakey smooth moist dense textural sexiness

that makes it all come together like it's a whole lot more dope

than y'all originally figured it would be.

yuuup.

i doo-doo that on-the-fly modification-type sh!t.

i mean,

who wants weak sauce treats?

right?

what am i?

an A*-hole?

no way.

i'm on that expert recognize expert jauns up here,

and the woodsly goodness is super unforgiving of anything 

less than the loudest, freshest, and hardest styles. 

that's a thing.

so,

i promise you guys will get some recipes eventually.

cookbooks take time,

it turns out.

weird.

nothing goes quickly,

and yet,m every day flies by.

i don't get it, but i endure it.

it's all really happening, too fast, and too slow,

all at the same time;

never quiet, never soft.....

snapping.

i'll bet if i rake up all the compacted and composted
overwintered awfulness that was pressed into the soil
of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress a little bit at a time,
eventually,
the odious chore of polishing up the post-plow meltdown
will still all get done,
but i won't be so furious when i'm doing it.
y'know?
listen,
as last year's decent weather died off and became wintertime,
i raked and raked and used a hurricane-canister leaf-blower,
and i pushed and pulled and mowed and mulched,
but every oak tree in the woodsly goodness still waited
until the rainiest week to drop their heavy burden on my garden.
...and then it snowed.
a lot.
and often.
y'all ever wait too long, trying to stay dry,
and end up missing out on the only time you had available
to do something that is equally terrible during rain or shine?
yeah.
i'm working on repairing that angle these days.
the thing of it is,
getting under the icy tundra to get rid of autumn's evidence
wasn't gonna happen at all until this thawed out springtime season.
i've already pulled out the big pieces of broken branches
and started tossing aside the downed limbs.
i'll tell you what, neighbors-
this winter was a real mutha-F*er.
i've still got snow in places,
and my little tiny sweet happy green shoots and buds and bulbs
are all wishing the way was clear for their highly-anticipated return.
dang.
i love this Fortress.
really.
it feels the most like home of anywhere i've ever lived,
which kind of makes sense, really-
it's old and busted, it's big and interesting, it's so dope,
and it's almost even doper but for a few missing ingredients....
i thought for sure it was pets,
and not houses,
that supposedly ended up resembling their owners.
weird.
at any rate,
the grounds are unkempt,
but not for long.
every night there's gonna be a fire,
and the fuel is gonna be all this sh!t-salad brownleaf detritus,
until it's all used up, burnt away,
and the beds are raised up for nature's inevitable victory.
i mean,
that's pretty expert, isn't it?
yard work pays in greens and golds,
and later on, with rain arriving at more appropriate times,
matures into that kaleidoscope of hottness i look forward to.
my flowers and vines and bushes and trees
are gonna get all the attention they merit,
so that this summer sees a new bounty of brighter bigger better bits.
i need that.
***********
also,
i like snapping turtles a whole bunch:

yeah!
they've got the burden of a burly busted up house on their backs, too.
and they're just as grumpy about it most of the time.
kindred spirits are what's up;
never quiet, never soft.....

pick me up.

two tubs of vegan cream chee',
and half a tub or vegan sour cream,
and a cup of confectioners sugar,
a little cornstarch,
a tablespoon or three of tapioca starch,
a splash of almondy extract,
and a squirt of vanilla extract,
all added in together in a big-A* bowl.
with hearty, hard-styled, concentrically-circling heavy-duty
clockwise whisk-whipped mixing for a whole lot of minutes,
before too long,
you've got that sexy, creamy, thick business
that you'll thank me for later.
uh-huh.
...
duders,
my buddy beau said i should make vegan tiramisu.
now,
i'll tell you guys the truth-
i never had the real one.
because,
way back in the olden days before i made the better dietary choices
that my body thanks me for every day,
i never ever got into anything that was very fancy.
at all.
but,
since i've been reppin' super-fancy unnecessary jauns for a little minute now-
i looked into what goes on inside this stacked up treat.
kids, i'll be forthcoming here-
it sounded hard, and time-consuming, and kinda super-unvegan-ish.....
so i knew i HAD to activate it.
and activate it i surely did.
check the holy-sh!t-type teleport:

whaaaaaat?!?!
c'mon.
that's what's good in the woods today, neighbors.
yeah.
i baked up a layer of thin, moist cakey hottness,
with instant coffee dissolved inside of it,
and a second layer, with just the slightest hint of cocoa, too.
i guess the real thing has some kind of liquer and coffee soaked up
into some dry-A* wafers-
that sounds soggy, to me.
so i went with a slightly less sopping alternative.
the bottom cake got basted with a strong, thick, almond-laced,
coffee-extracted simple syrup that employed espresso as the solvent liquid.
it had all the amaretto action you could ask for,
and none of the inherent alcoholic content.
you may not have ever even heard of this,
but:
it's okay not to drink.
that's actually a real thing.
no jokes.
anyway,
after the glazed gooey goodness soaked into the caramelized caketop,
the cream was basted on extra thickly.
marscarpone cheese would be jealous of how expert that stuff is.
i mean it.
that set itself in place in the fridge for a few,
while i basted the bottom of the second layer.
a quick flip,
and a second soaking for the top,
and even more magical mock-marscarponey cream chee' topping,
and it was ready for the traditional cocoa dust overload.
i guess that's the thing?
too much cocoa, like a deadly dust storm all over the surface?
nice.
obviously i had to do it.
i think you're supposed to hold your breath when you take a bite?
if not,
you breathe in a powdered brown chocolate assault that'll choke you out.
yep.
i think treats that trick you are dope.
oh,
and i even slid the remainder of the frosty whipped delights on the sides.
actually,
i actually had a little baby bit left over after that, too.
i remixed that up with more sugar, and more coffee extract,
and instant coffee crumbles until it resembled heavy whipped cream,
and i dolloped that on top,
with some expert curls of shaved dark chocolate truffle,
just to take it all the way to eleven.
uh huh.
i'm definitely a little proud of this one.
according to my dinner-mates,
it surpassed the original by a country mile.
i like to hear that.
***********
the tattoo studio is F*ed up.
remodeling or something.
the floors are jacked,
the walls are bare,
the furnace has been removed,
and the temperature dropped pretty damned low last night.
i have a feeling that all the fancy pick-me-up cake in the world
isn't gonna improve the sh!t-salad smearface that today is sure to be.
enduring inconveniences is what i do best, maybe?
today will test that, for certain.
it's been a beast of a week so far,
with harder and harder styles pushing me further and farther
from where i've been resting for so many years in a row.
times change, i suppose, no matter how hard you try to stay the same.
i'll blame it on the wild winds that are dominating the airflow
with warlike answers to shifting sides.
it's all really gonna keep on happening,
but that's what it all always really does;
never quiet, never soft.....

foldovers.

daaaaaamn.
compared to the amount of sunshine shooting down from the sky
and soaking into the soil of the woodsly goodness,
it's really flippin' cold outside.
like,
springtime yardwork was immediately put on hold
on account of both dropping temperatures and brutal wind.
seriously.
i'm sayin',
a two-mile inaugural new bike ride-along would've been
a perfect jaunt down the backroad byways of this scenic vale;
but the whipping wind slowed all progress to a near-stop,
and the slicing gusts cut through layers and layers of heavy clothes
and worse, saturated all exposed skin with knifing icy red bitterness.
yuck.
so,
if raking and pedaling weren't on the menu for my only day off.....
...what WAS gonna get poppin'?
ummmm.
how about super-surly serious barbarian burly burgers?
yeah.
neighbors,
check the open-face-foldover-type teleport:

tough!
the bread was pan-fried and puffed-up and smooth, y'all.
corn flour and wheat flour and semolina flour;
nootch and gluten and black pepper,
and slightly sweetened warm water, with two kinds of yeast.
expert.
slowly risen and roughly kneaded and gently rolled out
and attentively cooked up.
flipped twice, too, for double first-side buttery activation.
that's the good stuff.
i mean it.
without some elite breadstuffs for our base layer,
we're doo-dooing it so wrong from the start,
and that's bush-league amateur waterbaby bullsh!t.
it's not invited.
you wanna know what is invited?
ripped up boston bib lettuce and pea shoots for roughage.
with a cilantro-scallion-lime cashew cream dressing to make it expert.
yup.
and that's just side one.
side two has thick homemade guacamole,
some sweet yellow tomato and fresh chopped garlic salsa,
a punch of pickled jalapenos-
brined in sugary salted apple cider vinegar with peppercorns and lime juice-
and homemade pinto bean sandwich circles.....
i'm talking about brown on brown on brown discs of dopeness.
no jokes.
i made 'em up, and i made 'em thick,
because when warrior poets get hungry,
they need a meal that fights back.
what's in 'em?
a whole lotta beans,
seitan powder (vital wheat gluten), nootch, g.p.o.p.,
smoked applewood sea salt, black pepper,
spices and spices and spices,
a couple of caramelized shallots, and a few cloves of pressed smashed garlic,
bean flour, ground flaxseeds,
chopped parsley and cilantro, and olive oil.
uh-huh.
all of that, smooshed and formed and flattened,
and then browned on both sides in a hot hot hot pan
for perfectly expert barbarian fattieboombattie patties.
and once that yellowy flatbread if folded in half,
the doubled-up goodness gets turned up to a whole other tier of terrific.
that's right.
i mean, you see how rad it looks, right?
well,
it tasted eleven times better than that.
real talk.
when the weather is tricking me,
i take comfort in my kitchen.
i'll spend time preparing sauces and spices and doughs,
i'll chill the chutney and i'll marinate the 'meats',
or whatever.
if i'm gonna eat it,
and i'm gonna serve it up to my peoples,
then it needs to be dope.
rules is rules.
it takes a looong time to make masterpieces,
but only a little tiny minute to murder 'em.
the journey is important,
but the end result matters more.
nobody sees what i'm doing to get ready,
but tastebuds can tell the difference between the hottness
and some diapery box-mix b!tchbaggery when it's finished.
i do what i do,
because that's the way it has to be.
too much, for too long, in too many different ways,
or nothing at all;
never quiet, never soft.....

jelly.

regenerating your whole entire body sounds like
a real serious pain-in-the-A* undertaking.
then again,
being a basically mindless, hungry,
current-wafting, huffing-puffy chunk of stringy barf,
and floating around with visible organs undulating,
stinging up on nearly-invisible tiny water creatures
isn't exactly all that enticing either...
so,
why are jellyfish so dope, then?
i dunno!
but they ARE.
check the teleport:

c'mon.
i mean,
for realsies,
they just do their thing all day,
and then replace all their parts as they wear out.
forever and ever.
i'm not sure if that's all-the-way expert,
but it works for them.
look at these shiny weirdies:

right??
reppin' that metroid magic, neighbors.
*
singularity of purpose.
man, i envy that.
i mean it.
y'know,
like the way a jellyfish just is it's own thing,
and has no desire to do much else.
start to finish, they do what they do...
.....and that's it.
as hard as they can, all the time.
i know people who fixate on their careers to the point of
exclusionary monomanical myopia towards any
and every other thing around them.
they're on that jellyfish jauns,
and that's pretty serious.
my focus is much much wider than that,
and i'm presumably incapable of only liking one thing.
i want all of it,
and then more of it,
and then a little bit extra on top of that.
too much is the right amount,
and a diverse scope and breadth is the way to go.
i guess i'll get it together, eventually?
or not.
either way,
there's lots of going on;
never quiet, never soft.....

earth day!!

springtime!
sun!
sprouting plant babies!
earth day.
yuuuuuuuuuup.
it's earthy, all day long,
and to celebrate,
i'm reppin' tart tuesday activation for your face.
that's real.
almonds, chunked up with some rolled oats,
buttered up and maple sweetened with syrup
freshly tapped and sapped from the white mountains.
that's what crust is all about up here, kids.
and pureed strawberries mixed in with my soymilk,
sweeteners, thickeners, and almond and vanilla and lemon extracts,
to make a pinkish super-sexy pastry creme.
that's what filling does in the woodsly goodness.
neighbors-
sugared sliced freshness, in the form of strawberry slivers
to shiver your timbers an' that?
c'mon.
it's earth day,
and that means we needed something extra dope.
and it definitely delivered in the delicious department, too.
check the pink-parts-type teleport:

kaBOOM!
loud, fresh, creaminess, crunchiness, and sweetness,
in F*ing full effect.
that's what's happening up here to celebrate earth, an' that.
the whole dang planet is what's up, y'all.
earthling jauns are freakin' it off-
we're livin' it, today and everyday,
and it's all really happening.
the objective we're on about is to keep it expert forever;
never quiet, never soft.....

torosaurus.

torosaurus!!

looks an awful lot like a triceratops, huh?
yeah.
well,
it's not.
it's the bigger frilled and weirder horned cousin
that was discovered by archaeologists from yale.
really.
and they are so dang proud of it,
they've had a sculptor create the big statue out front!
there are all sorts of ceratopsian subtleties that differentiate
the toro from the tri.
and sure,
that's all very interesting if you're into that sort of sh!t.
however,
there was one thing that really made this lifelike life-sized model
truly impressive.
it was the attention to detail, neighbors.
i mean it.
check the poop-chute-type teleport:

c'mon!
a dinosaur butthole in bronze??
so expert.
that's what was needed to make my trip complete, kids.
a giant wrinkledot.
there are highlights,
and then there are highlights.
if you can't hang out with butts,
you can't hang out over here.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....

homely.

the woodsly goodness is a great place,
and it feels good to be back home.
the thing is-
coming back to a patch of steep stones
and peeling paint isn't so bad,
but the long stretch of nothing happening all the way up
to this isolated mountain vale reminds me of
just how far away from everything we all are up here.
that's a hard style.
because,
for all the weak sauce lameness of everywhere else,
there's an awful lot of all that awful,
and too much isn't usually a bad thing.
ugh.
i dunno, duders.
the cold cold emptiness of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
gets to me every once in a great while.
especially after packing in so big action in such a short time
in the southern sections of urban sprawling new england.
mmmhmmm.
the easter season visitation activation was in F*ing full effect.
susty's vegan weirdie spot for dinner, thursday.
expert hippie activist food magic for our faces.
that's was rad.
the pita spot for lunch friday,
with spicy super-hottness-style lebanese falafels.
the mystic marinelife aquarium
for circling sharks and fat white belugas and stringy jellyfish.
olde mistick village for a false epcot-central-style experience.
and then down into the dirty dirty depths of new haven for the really realness.
harvest & maple helped us terrorize some tofutti, emergency-style.
check the teleport:

sprankles, b!tches!!!!
because we span time the best ways we know how to.
house of chao veggie dumps for the experience?
yep.
and bagelicious white people bagels for crackery folks,
avocado and hummus on a cornbread bagel for breakfast the next day?
obvi.
when in rome, do as the romans,
and when in cheshire, get a bagel and get the heck outta there.
word up.
neighbors-
edgerton community gardens greenhouse.
that see-through canopy of warmth and wet is full of ALL the plants.
and that is what's up.
you know a giant glass building is super dope
when it has big fat old goldfish swimming in a pond in the floor.
yeah.
the peabody museum of natural history
didn't just have dinosaurs and dioramas and dead birds:

(triceratops is my favorite one)
there is also a picture of my parents' house in it.
well,
it was included in an aerial view of the july 10th, 1989 tornado that
wrecked my hometown, and their house, in a  day of double-funnel destruction.
yikes.
working up a healthy appetite looking at prehistoric hominid skulls
calls for a foray into the soups, salads, and breads,
of another ages-old nueva haven institution-
claire's corner copia,
full of townies and weirdies and creepy moms.
that's how you can be sure it's good.
they're all there, and they're all eating a lot.
y'know what goes great with a full belly?
the yale university art gallery,
AND the british art museum,
that's a whole lot of paintings, kids.
it takes up all the time just to peruse the greatest hits in those halls.
and it wrks up a whole other 'nother healthy appetite.
and that's why dinnertime took us to a casual finer dining experience
along the shoreline community of scenic salty downtown branford-
kids-
g-zen is some concept-album style high-end vegan nerdism,
with a healthy dose of neo-buddhist pretendian upcharges.
it's also pretty flippin' delicious.
really.
and when easter finally reared it's painted egghead,
we headed north to providence,
to skulk around with my ace homeboy, the cucch,
and hit up expert vegan brunchtime supershark gluttony
at the grange, where hipsters go to hug each other a whole lot \
and drink awful juice blends and eat doughnuts.
hey, some of those things are rad.
a walk around college hill,
and a stinky stump sendoff found us headed north again.
stuffed full of fun, and food,
and with fonder memories of the places and spaces we occupied,
and with appreciation and gratitude for the time we spanned.
it all really happened, friends,
and that's the whole damned point of it;
never quiet, never soft.....

pieces.

chocolate and peanut butter.
they just love touching each others' parts.
so if i can put peanuts in my fudge brownies,
and peanut butter in my blondies,
and make the both of 'em get a little freaky
on each other's parts inside a rectangular pan,
and drop chocolate chips and ground peanuts
all over the both of 'em while i'm at it?
well,
i'd be a real A*-hole if i didn't, huh?
yeah.
for sure.
luckily for all of us,
i'm NOT one of those.
check the teleport:

mmmmmmmm.
this sort of stuff is good for you, kinda.
i mean,
it tastes good,
and that's enough.
two pots with melted butterishness,
and soymilk, and brown sugar...
(i used light in the beige, and dark in the brown)
with cocoa and peanutty butts and flour all over the dang place.
ok.
fine.
i enjoyed throwing both kinds of blops into the pan,
and putting the pattern together.
so?
maybe i doo-doo that brown-on-beige type sh!t.
it is expert, after all.
for realsies.
cakes and cookies and sweets and treats are good for me.
i mean,
making them is good for me, anyway.
the rivers are flooded, and taking trees out all over the place up here.
the snowy skies are dropping crystals of weak-sauce every night.
the birds are waking me up, crying for some seeds, each morning.
the full moon lit up the whole of the woodsly goodness
with blood red and quicksilver lunatic luminescence.
and in the middle of it all,
there's me and my oven and my spoons and my pans an' that.
that's where i belong,
making magic in the center of a swirling sea of spirit and memory,
all nature and wind and battle-beasts and infinite essences.
there isn't much else i'd rather do.
it's all really happening,
and i'm doing what i do.
what else should there be?
that's it;
never quiet, never soft..... 

further adventures.

ohhhhh man!
i just get so busy doing stuff.
and when i'm doing one thing i lose track of everything else.
i mean it.
there's laundry needing folding;
and ups needing pushing;
there are parcels waiting for me at the post office;
i've got appointments needing making;
and all sorts of hard-work-yard-work is looking me
right smack dab in the face-
daring me to bend my back, blister and hands,
and soak my brow with a saltwater crown of toil,
and all that from just outside my windows.
yikes.
and of course,
the full F*ing moon doesn't do much in the way of helping.
...unless helping is the same as not sleeping well,
and flippin' out all over the place like a half-beast/half-man
barbarian berserker for days and days.
what?
oh, well, obviously i know that's not actually helpful.
c'mon.
anyway,
i figured out how to activate vegan roasts last week.
and that felt good, and tasted better.
this week,
i took it to an even more expert level.
no jokes.
y'see,
i needed a sorta sausagey-spiced slice or four,
because i got an idea into my head.
the thing of it is,
in order for the idea to become a reality,
i had to span a whole mess of time in the kitchen.
oh,
yes, neighbors, it WAS worth it.
check the sandwich-wizardry-type teleport:

wooohooooo!!!
triple decker dopeness for your face!
that's rustic italian bread, sliced into three tiers,
for maximum magic number flavor building.
mmmhmmm.
with two different side salads?
yep.
i get it together, and i put it together, and i do what i can.
why?
because too much is always the right amount,
and making great big tasty heaps of fresh vegan hottness
means i'm super-fancy in the most deliciously unnecessary ways.
and that's dope.
what IS it all?
oh,
are you really worried?
don't be...i'll tell you all about it-
roasted sesame seeds and parsley,
and white balsamic vinegar and olive oil-
tossed together over cucumbers, golden tomatoes,
celery, and sliced strawberries for a tart and sweet start.
and quinoa, cooled, with seared shallots, shredded baby kale,
toasted almonds, and lemon,
with a bloppity-goobieblop-dollop of soaked-cashews pureed,
with soymilk and saturated with lemon and dill,
for a thick and crazy-creamy dreamboat of a dressing.
yeah.
for as simple as those treats are,
they're really expert.
no jokes.
but, that sandwich, though.
mmmmmmmmmmm.
cashew-and-nootch spread,
custom vegan roast slices,
watercress, for a spicy crunch,
and a layer of bread dividing it from the next-level activation-
which was also elite in it's sincere simplicity.
ginger slices, black peppercorns, coriander seed, salt, sugar,
apple cider vinegar and lemon juice make one helluva brine.
and that juicy jauns saturated the sh!t outta some red onions.
uh-huh.
bright and shiny pink pickled oniony strips,
and a nother 'nother layer of vegan roasty beige-ish circles,
and a crunchy, spicy, flavor-bombed slaw of
radish, raddichio, carrot, parsley, shallots, and vegenaise,
and then more cashew-nootch shmearing,
before the tophat of crusty bread crowned the whole dang thing.
that's a serious situation, huh?
but that wasn't it.
we took it to eleven with a pan-frying grill attack.
yeah!
the superheated buttery griddle and the hot hot hot sandwich iron
squished it all into a concentrated and crispy package.
anybody can make a sandwich, kids.
but it takes a werewolfen warrior poet to overdo it so cleverly.
........and i have got a lot left over for lunch.
because too much means it's just right,
and that means there's more where that came from.
smart.
***********
the easter weekend time is on us.
already.
colorful eggs and chocolate rabbit-rabbit action
and pastel hues, and dumb hats,
and all sorts of silliness are underway for the next few days.
i'm gonna do what i can to enjoy it all.
no, i mean it...really.
people and places and things are about to be experienced.
yeah.
all the nouns, i guess.
starting now.
i expect to gorge myself sick,
and span time with my bairns,
and get that family togetherness together for a few.
it can't be as bad as all that,
and even if it is,
it unfolds to reveal more of the great big secret universal big picture.
i'm ready,
and it's about to get underway.
i am grateful for the time i have been given,
each and every minute;
never quiet, never soft.....

aging.

rams.
y'know?
aries.
c'mon.
yeah.
those people.
mmhmm.
my buddy wayne turned forty yesterday.
and that's gross,
but only because i'm not there yet.
when i hit the four-decade mark,
it'll be 'just right' and 'not so bad',
or maybe 'well-seasoned' or something along the lines,
or is it wrinkles?, of that sort of sh!t.
huh?
oh, okay.
fine,
i'll admit my attitude towards aging isn't actually so harsh.
i mean,
you presumably get wiser if you're doing it right-
right?
yeah.
i'll also acknowledge that forty isn't THAT old.
a quarter-century's worth of hard work still stretches
out in front of you before the oldness lets you take a break.
i mean,
c'mon.
forty just means you should have something to show for all the work
you've done so far,
but there's usually way more ahead than behind.
no use being bummed about that sore back and those grey hairs-
there's still plenty of labor to be sweated through and endured.
so, yeah, he's forty.
and also,
i love berfdays.
so hard.
harder than his hard-headed astrological illogical ram stubbornness even.
i love berfdays so much, in fact,
that i deferred the snugs and hugs awaiting me,
and fired up the oven instead.
i'm serious.
because if you don't get treats on your berfday,
you're definitely an A*-hole,
but if i don't make treats for my peoples,
then I'M the A*-hole,
and i can't hang out with that action at all.
neighbors,
check the springtime-style special-request-type teleport:

strawberry vegan chee'cake.
it's the best one i've made yet.
i mean it.
i freaked it off with some secret extras,
and they made the activation complete.
mmmhmmmm.
expert.
wait.....what?
oh.
you caught me.
yes,
i totally sliced off a big wedge for myself first.
ugh.
you knew i had to.
i'm sayin',
i'm not gonna not take a picture,
just so he gets a big pink and red circle all to himself.
i like him a lot. don't get me wrong,
but i've got to make up for shrugging off snuggles
with at least one tasty piece for another one.
that's a thing.
and anyway,
without a picture to show off,
it might as well never have happened-
and it is ALL really happening, no matter what.
rules is rules, always.
***********
there's birds singing,
and fog rollin',
and sunshine hiding,
and work to do everywhere.
no fooling.
i'm on that grind, all over the woodsly goodness.
putting in work,
working with purpose,
and making moves to make the magic happen
in overwhelming amounts.
there's too much of everything, all at once,
and that's the only way i know how to participate.
it's unfolding in front of my eyes,
and i'm following along at the same breakneck pace.
the melting snow is flooding the river,
the flooding river is making a mess,
and the mess looks tidy compared to the daily doings over here.
that's the way it works,
and the work is never done.
more of it is what we're amassing,
and it never seems like it'll ever be enough;
never quiet, never soft.....

alright.

here you go, neighbors.
cookies.
chocolate ones.
hell,
chocolate-covered chocolate chip jauns.
i'll do you one better, even-
chocolate drizzled chocolate chocolate chip rock bloxxx.
yup.
check the brown-on-brown-on-brown-on-brown-type teleport:

mmmm.
good morning.
duders,
if y'all don't know about rock bloxx,
well,
your A* had better ask somebody.
for real.
two sticks of buttery vegan yellowishness,
and a whole bag of dark brown sugar,
and cocoa, and chocolate, and chocolate chips,
and oat flour, and wheat flour, and ground coconut,
and maple syrup all married together and mixed-up
and made into the most expert cookies in the woodsly goodness.
yes.
rock bloxx are definitely a friendship test.
they have the right amount of everything,
which of course,
is waaaay too much.
and if you're only reppin' just one?
ewwww.
that's weak sauce.
they're like the other other rock blocks-
that means three in a row, minimum.
jeez.
don't be dumb.
if you can't hang out with 'em,
you missed the point,
and you can't sit with us.
womp womp.
i made 'em up,
and i made 'em for everybody.
it's past time that they made an appearance this year.
when it's time to get up exxxtra early and get crackin' at the crack of dawn,
it's certainly time to get busy blastin' out some burly brown bombs
of chocolaty new hottness.
c is for cookie, kids.
that's the truth.
**********
y'know what?
mmhmm.
i'm feeling like you guys could use a little help.
so,
i'll give you the basics for these ultimate warrior blops.
yeah.
anyway,
you're welcome.
now,
gather your ingredients....
-
2.5 cups of flour
1.5 cups oat flour
1 cup coconut flour
1 cup butter-style stuffs
1/2 cup applesauce
2 cups brown sugar
a splash of maple syrup
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. salt.
1/2 cup cocoa
1/4 cup ground chocolate
1 pkg chocolate chips
2 tsp vanilla
now,
if you don't know what order to mix stuff in,
you might be a little bit of a stoopidhead.
however,
if you get it together enough to get a batter whipped up,
then drop some golf-bal sized blops on a baking sheet,
and give 'em hell at 375 degrees F for twelve minutes.
if you can doo-doo that freaky sh!t,
and then melt down some chocolate chips
with confectioners sugar,
and vanilla, and soymilk,
until it's a syrupy sweet sauce-
spoon that thick ganache-y goodness on top,
and you'll be all up into it like a real expert.
you have the information,
now make the magic happen;
never quiet, never soft.....

ruidoso y fresca y duro para la cara

duders,
it's saturday,
my first appointment cancelled,
and i'm tattooing old boobs later.
y'know what that calls for?
ultimate warrior poetry in the form of food.
nutrients that simulate eagles' eggs,
and spicy hot flavors that will kick my motormouth
into turbo-charged tongue twisting.
is that alright with y'all?
it doesn't matter, really, if it is or isn't.
what's happening is happening,
and all of it is unfolding fast in the woodsly goodness.
things escalate apace in these mountains.
anyway,
there is sure to be some blunt-force orating;
irate rating of the merits of each individual in each instance,
which amounts to massive mass-force character assassination;
and hot jalapeno-powered chips and dips.
neighbors,
i recognize that it isn't easy to tolerate the trials and triumphs
inherent in being expert.
for realsies.
i'm talking about rallying for another 'nother supercharged charge
headlong berserker barbarian brawler style right into the fray.
it feels good to overreact and emote and chew the scenery,
but,
it's exhausting, as well as typecasting, to always do so in every instance.
yeah.
the default operating system for many is middling mass-populace mediocrity,
but lightning-striking vikings and savage stormswept gypsies
and all the various incarnations of active participants
and worthy word-eating hot-hearted heavy-handed hard-headed firespitters
all expect to be much more, even at rest,
even in the shower,
even when nobody is looking and no one would ever know about any of it.
do you undertand?
too much, all the time- taking it too far, and going to eleven-
is the only right answer...
it's blowing in on the wind, wearing antlers, and waging war-
mmhmm.
it's like a green knight glistening and glowering and glowing and going all out.
that's the embodiment of what's poppin'.
the more visceral, tangible, physical manifestation,
today,
is slightly more finely-chopped and seasoned.
hahahaha.
all those words,
and actually,
all we had to do was check the teleport:

salsa fresca.
jeeeeez.
so much tomato, tomatillo, green pepper, jalapeno,
vidalia onion, cilantro, garlic, and lime.
i mean, SO much.
and it's spicy.
not burning-your-tongue-painful,
but the peppers and the raw garlic combined bring the lingering heat
to those chilled chunks of vegetables.
and that is what is gonna activate the new hottness today,
scoops and scoops and scoops of that loud, fresh, hardness,
for my face.
oh.
and also,
i didn't stop there, either.
i mean,
c'mon...
what am i?
an A*-hole?
no.
check the green-monstrous-type teleport:

holy mutha-flippin' guacamole!
i've never made it before,
and i guess it has tomatoes in it normally?
well,
not this one, friends.
but i did freak it off with three kinds of garlic.
there are chunks and chunks and chunks,
and then there are chunky chunks, too.
i've got 'em all,
and i'm reppin' that tortilla-style dippin' dopeness
all damned day long.
hard styles and hot spices and crisp chips
and smooth green things.
the volume is getting turned up,
and staying that way.
the snow is seriously melting away,
and it can't happen fast enough.
i caught two mincey little looters in my pantry,
with those head-nod ninja-fast necksnappin' traps.
the sunroom plants are bloomin' weeks before the woods
really awaken in the great mountainous northern forests.
yeah.
this is it.
today is the day.
it always is;
never quiet, never soft.....

gimme pounds.

whoa!
chocolate is good for you.
that's a thing.
and cake?
well,
cake is always a floury flourish of celebratory hottness.
that's a thing, too.
so obviously,
chocolate cake is the big action we need to get going on, right?
right.
check the dense-bombin'-moist-madness-type teleport:

c'mon.
neighbors,
it's chocolate cocoa fudge pound cake.
no jokes.
a giant soft, dark, rich doughnut of dopeness,
covered in cocoa-laced icing drizzles all over it's flat top,
and bursting the borders to slather the sides in thick drips
of sugary sweetness.
mmmm.
oh,
and then, just to kick it up to the next level,
there are both roasted cacao nibs,
AND chocolate-covered cacao nib sprankles on top.
i take the chocolate situation to eleven, friends.
i have to.
too much is the right amount,
and rules is rules,
so really,
i'm just fulfilling my destiny here.
yeah.
this cake though.
i mean it.
soft and sweet and just layer upon layer of brown
on brown on brown on brown onbrownonbrownonbrown.
uh-huh.
just what the weekend needs to get started right.
there's work to be done,
and the furnaces need fuel, y'know?
my engine runs on chocolate cake today.
that's that high-performance jauns.
and it's going in my flippin' mouth all dang day.
let them eat cake?
LET them?
ha.
just try and stop me.
today is for chocolate,
today is for cake,
today is the day,
and that's what's up;
never quiet, never soft..... 

zesty enterprises.

lemon!
sea salt!
cookies!
custard!
i've got ALL of that.
neighbors,
sometimes you want some springtime flavors,
sweet and tart and savory all at once-
and when that time comes,
you've gotta rise to the occasion.
check the teleport:

mmmmmmmmm.
vanilla-snap cookie-crumbled crust.
vanilla-infused lemon vegan pastry creme.
lemon zest.
big crystals of sea salt.
holy crap.
that combination is definitely expert.
it's firm, but it's soft,
the crust is chunky, but buttery, too.
the zest is mellowed by the sea salt,
which adds a subtle warmth to that chilled creme middle.
yeah.
it's got depth and breadth of flavor and texture.
y'know,
because i'm fancy.
***********
the days are getting awfully muddy here in the woodsly goodness.
the mountains of snow seem smaller.
at least, they do everywhere else but my front yard.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress shields the sun,
as it stands tall and terrible amidst the trees and rocks,
a castle casting a long shadow across the lay of the land...
and that keeps the piles higher and colder than most places.
damn.
i can see grass out back,
and that's great news,
but the heaps and heaps of icy muck bordering my driveway
may create a moat before too long.
i guess that's cool, too, though.
my own mired quicksand span across the entries and exits of my manse?
sounds manly.
i guess i should be glad the ground is slowly being soaked with water.
life needs that juice to get started,
especially if it's gonna get started later than everywhere else.
so we'll see how it goes i suppose.
saturated after being supercooled after slowly going back
to springtime scenery well later than the neighbors.
it's all really happening, still,
and nature is bound to pull a win out, regardless.
that's that;
never quiet, never soft.....

feasts of fury.

being vegan doesn't mean being a weak little
sodapantsed diaperbaby.
for real.
i love eating food.
i love eating food that is vegan.
i love eating vegan food that is totally flippin' expert.
yeah.
all true.
but,
in order to make the menu in my mind a reality,
usually,
i've gotta make it all up,
and then make it all myself.
lucky for us,
i love cooking.
a LOT.
and love cooking special stuff even more than that.
neighbors,
that's an awful lot of love for a hard-hearter hater to handle.
i mean it.
so for balance in both the known and secret universe,
and for synergistic symmetry between light and dark,
i make careful culinary creations in my super-sexy kitchen,
and then i dominate them with harmful berserker breakneck
overindulgence right into my open-mouthed and uber-busted face.
yikes!
it's all true, though, friends.
i doo-doo that freaky-diki sh!t whenever the opportunity arises.
and i make sure the opportunity presents itself frequently.
*
yesterday was one of those days.
y'know?
those all-day-cooking jauns?
indeed.
i spent too much time in front of the stove,
making too much food.
uh-huh.
however,
it WAS the right amount of everything.
hmmm?
oh.
it was totally worth it.
i mean, once the prep was done,
the ingredients were assembled,
and the timeline was confirmed-
i want it all ready at once,
so the schedule was all synchronized,
and the stuff was all served at the perfectly time.
all at once, it all was ready,
and that is what made it all so dang expert.
i write meal plans down sometimes on napkins,
and then i work my plan.
and when that plan comes together?
mmhmm.
teleport:

fancy berfday dinner, at home.
the request was made for thanksgiving-type treats.
the response was excessive to say the least.
too much is the only way i know how to react.
real talk.
but, i mean, C'MON!
roasted butternut squash with cinnamon-sage olive oil drizzle,
and dried cranberries and pecan sprankles?
that's expert.
blue and red potatoes, baby carrots, quartered brussels sprouts,
celery, pearl red onions, and squash, all of it tossed in
g.p.o.p.'d melted butter and applewood-smoked sea salt.
once that multi-colored medley gets the long slow roasting?
mmmmmmm.
always expert, for sure.
garlic mashed potatoes, skins on, homeboy-style,
with parsley and scallions and lots of black pepper?
yes.
smooshed with extra soymilk and double butter
you know how good those are.
(you'd call 'em expert, i'll bet)
big button mushrooms, hollowed out,
with shallots and scallions and spices and fancy rice filling 'em.
fancy rice takes forever,
and has all the black spikes and brown nubs
and long and short grains inside it.
that's why it's fancy, and not just rice.
duh.
but those mushrooms got stuffed with a mountain of it all, kids.
that's the best way to activate their latent magic nutrient powers.

that's a thing.
and that thing is expert.
what are those brownish-brick-colored circles?
i'll tell you-
those concentrated overlapping echoes of excellence are the beginning
of a new era in the new hottness.
i'll not be buying tofurky any longer, folks.
not when i can create my own roast here in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i'm serious.
vegan roast, from scratch, woodsly goodness-style.
yuuuuuuuuup.
seitanic, tofu-laced, bean-smooshed,
and heavily spiced, not to mention nootch-blasted.
it's really happening, and i'm hyped on it.
yes. yes. YES.
expertism just took itself up to eleven.
ka-BOOOM.
what?
well, obviously there's gravy everywhere.
the roux, the broth, the whisking.....
i get busy with my custom gravy, baby.
i'm like that.
did i miss anything?
oh.
yes. i did.
you see it?
yeah.
but,
is that a big-muffin-tin-baked itty-bitty personal pot pie?
what do you think i am?
an A*-hole??
of COURSE it is.
don't be dumb.
check the making-of-type teleport:

wordimus prime!
toasted sesame seeds, red onions,
mushrooms, peas, cabbage, carrots, celery, seasonings,
pinto beans, a little bit of that fancy rice,
and small perfect chewy firm chunks of baked tofu.
yeah.
i baked it before i added it in.
i know how to make it righteous and how to make it right.
cheatery flaky pastry crust.
huh?
no way.
it's still 100% homemade,
i just cut in all the butterish and some cream chee' to make
small puffy pastry crust,
and them pot pie packed it,
and lidded it,
and cut hearts out of the tops as escaping steam chimneys.
yeah,
they're little hearts.....so what?
who says i can't be kinda cutesy with my tiny pie cups?
jeez.
this whole meal involved a massive amount of steps on steps on steps.
lots of methods, all fueling a mad rush of berfday action.
i wish it took longer to eat, though.
dang.
shoveled down in a flickering fraction of the labor involved.
that's the real domino-effect, duders.
set up forever and ever, knock 'em back in a mere moment.
it's okay.
the taste and flavor and savory sweet salty succulent sensations
were all there, exploding through my synapses.
it doesn't take time to terrorize through the heaps of elite eats,
but the good memory of it lasts and lasts and lasts.
i take time to make memories that matter,
in meals and moments and mirth-
day after day,
it's all really happening.
*
and this happened, too:

awwwwwww.
yeah.
not as many candles as there could've been-
but,
given the haphazard fire-hazardous manner
by which their flames were extinguished?
it might've been better that way.
berfdays were the worst days,
but not for y'all.
all of that hard work, all day long,
just to make one evening totally expert.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....

berfday.

ummmm,
neighbors,
today is a double berfday.
really.
my tattoo-community-socialite homeboy,
miss shawn hebrank turns the dial  towards older today,
over in fort collins, colorado,
which happens to be one of the least obese cities in america.
true story.
and very happy berfday wishes go out to him.
*
over here, though.....
the woodsly goodness is going to give a gala fete
for one of my personal favorites-
uh-huh.
my ladyfriend,
who is called amber,
turns twenty-six.
today.
...and very proud we all are of her.
for the record,
it's not a birthday party if nobody is invited,
so we aren't exactly partying.
(i DO so hate having fun, after all)
but,
we aren't taking shorts on activation, regardless.
the thing of it is,
without cake, it isn't real.
rules is rules.
so,
if we're gonna celebrate in the style of worthy warriors,
and/or poets,
(incidentally, R.I.P. ultimate warrior. my heart weeps)
then we're gonna need some cake.
check the teleport:

happy mutha-'ucking expert-A* day, b!tches!!!
on the ones, friends,
that cake got taken to eleven like whaaaaat?!
strawberry cake.
pink and everything, made with powdered and pulverized,
fresh, flash-frozen, and freeze-dried forms of heart shaped red berries.
and in between the two turbo-sexy layers of heart shaped crumbs?
pureed strawberry compote jauns, from scratch.
yup.
expert is the only way i doo-doo that happy-happy-type sh!t.
and there's vanil'lemon super creamy uber-whipped frosting
mortaring 'em together,
and smothering the fresh bits inside.
and just to make sure y'all know i'm not playing around-
that's strawberry frosting accenting all those hearts and hearts and hearts.
uh-huh.
i put my heart into it,
so that it's the way it's supposed to be.
i love other peoples' b-day times.
i really really do.
so i'm ready, and the cake is waiting for candles
and for huffing and puffing and wishing and cutting and all that.
today is the day.
there's more going on,
but i've been so busy in the kitchen all damned day long,
it'll have to keep until tomorrow.
jolly good fellows one and all, y'all;
never quiet, never soft.....

waffle-full.

friends.
i don't have too many.
so the ones i've got matter a lot.
my number one soemtimes shows up like a surprise,
and stays for a super short span of time.
there's food, and loudness, and freshness,
and all sorts of being expert;
but it's all concentrated into a condensed
and dense matter of mere hours.
that sort of supercharged serious business is rad, for sure,
but the bar gets set pretty high for the next day,
sans activated interaction with worldly warriors of poetic participation.
yikes.
so,
whenever the cucch leaves,
there's a helluva void left in his wake.
awwwwwwww.
so.
how do we repair that?
with waffles.
c'mon.
don't be dumb.
i'm just sayin',
if i've got seventy five pounds of dented doublecrisp cakes
in my bellyhole,
there's no room in there left over for hollow feelings.
check the breakfast-of-champions-type teleport:

yuuuup!!
oatmeal, corn flour, a tiny smidge of coconut, double butter,
and extra brown sugar inside of those manhole covers, kids.
plus,
a custom demerara and vanilla-cinnamon spiced buttery batch
of walnut/pecan pralines on top?
heck yes.
and all of it drizzled with real maple syrup,
because table syrup is for A*-holes.
and that's word-up real talk.
*
i miss this guy already:

the kitchen isn't as explosive,
the floor isn't as occupied,
the walls aren't resounding with the ever increasing volume of
loud freshness our hard styles embody.
it's a real bummer when he bounces back down south.
(and the waffle explosion was yesterday.)
i need a copilot sometimes, neighbors.
i mean,
a no-jokes ride-or-die-type duder.
y'know?
my very best buddy is a great one.
it's always good to see the guy;
never quiet, never soft.....

viva liberte!

duders,
i'll share a little tidbit of truth with y'all.
ready?
ok.
i've never had a cuban sandwich.
really.
i mean,
i've been for vegan for so flippin' long,
i never even had the chance to indulge myself
in one of those greasy, messy, hot-pressed bombs.
it's cool.
from what i understand,
they're only expert because they're totally a big ol'
pan-fried mess of indulgent 'sgustingness.
y'know?
like,
too much is the right amount,
but in all the worst ways.
and yeah, fine, i'll admit it-
i'm into that.
i'm so into it, actually,
that i got the idea into my head that i needed one.
i'm serious.
and luckily,
my numero uno heterolifemate,
the cucch, surprised us with a popover.
now,
if ever there was a time
when a sandwich explosion was set up to go off,
it's gotta at a time when the activation society of
worthy hamden warrior poets are having a reunion.
a vegan duo of herculean talents both under the roof of
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress?
yep.
and beau with his burly appetite for self-destruction was here too??
c'mon.
that's a lot of expertism in one spot, neighbors.
we got some ideas,
and some ingredients,
and some motivation...
...and then this happened:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
c'mon.
i'm just sayin'.....C'MON!
veggie ham?
yes.
vegan non-specific greyish-beige simulated pulled pork?
ummm, yes.
we took a few generous leaps of faith with our faux meats.
we doo-doo that imagination-fueled approximation-type sh!t.
and stackers, kids.
you those slabs of pickle you like so much?
we GOT they.
daiya(rrhea) fake chee'?
obvi.
and what about the mustardy sauce?
mmhmmm.
we got especially expert,
with vegenaise, nootch, g.p.o.p., dry ground mustard seed,
turmeric, and horseradish dijon all mixed and melded together.
that's the secret to full-blown hottness.
no jokes.
portuguese rolls bore the brunt of our buttered pan assault.
and,
i even heated up a cast-iron press on a separate burner,
until it was super-ready to squish 'em flat.
just check the teleport:

we get it IN, guys.
for the win.
and according to beau,
who has had the authentic grease-blasted dead-pig smorgasbord,
they tasted pretty damned near to the real deal.
i may or not be both flattered and grossed out.
either way,
we ate a LOT.
too much of too much is the precise dose for manly shark gluttony.
that's it.
*
a lazy sunday it wasn't.
not even kinda.
hard styles;
heavy-handed tattoo action;
big fat lunchtimes;
rednecks;
renovations;
gluttony;
cigars;
all of it, all really happening,
with a healthy helping of helping hands.
me and my duders got busy,
and we got heavy,
and we did too much of all it,
and it was just right.
i am grateful for the time i have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....

baking early, baking late.

the up-early-style baking of treats.
sometimes,
i doo-doo that right-up-and-at-'em-type sh!t.
yesterday,
the sound of ice tinkling in teardrop doses
down onto the cold tin roof outside my bedroom window
woke me up while it was still well before dawn.
and what's more,
the skies were all kinds of cloudy and grey well past the sunrise.
so it seemed like morning took forever and ever.
i mean it.
dawn stayed hovering on the waiting horizon, lingering and loitering,
until the clouds left off around brunchtime.
that's just no fun.
a slush-stained waterlogged morning needs activating though, neighbors.
that's for sure.
and when it comes to activation,
i've got spatulas and pastry cutters and food processors
that will all say that i'm the main man in charge.
yeah.
a groggy, foggy, coughing, and dripping headcold noggin,
and the achy ague of a spring fever (literally) is NOT
gonna stop me from making some treats.
especially when my duders are coming out at night for hangs.
y'know?
the active participant perseveres.
really.
check the teleport:

uh-huh.
two kinds of expert cookies for your face.
i get into it, guys.
british shortbread fingers, squeezy essess of buttery yellow hottness,
with the obligatory cornflour crumble,
and a custom dippin' glaze of confectioners cocoa,
and german chocolate shavings as sprankles for good measure.
that's expert.
and how about those oatmeal-almond softies?
how about 'em!
oatmeal sugar cookies, with coarse ground whole almonds in the mix,
and a squirt of almond extract as well as lemon zest.
they're moist, they're soft, they're sweet.....
oh, MAN!
they're good like that.
but,
they're amazing when we take 'em to eleven.
the only way to effectively do that is to add more.
that's always the right answer.
so,
when we upgrade those jauns with some lemony citrus frosting
and a candied almond tucked onto the top?
mhmm
expert.
yes, i know.
***********
todd and beau and i went out to dinner.
and we ate.
a lot.
hard.
and fast.
those fellas aren't lightweights either.
they terrorized a slew of their good ol' uncle albie's cookies
and cakes before we ever even left the tattbomb shop.
huh?
oh.
well, that's where we all met up,
because i tattooed todd beforehand,.
what?
oh.
with what?
with a life-sized image of an asian giant hornet.
a flying horror with venom in it's stinger so potent,
it dissolves human flesh?
yes, indeed.
gross?
kinda.
dope?
definitely.
that's for sure.
*
and then it was back home again for talks on talks on talks.
me and my homeboy from across the mountains always make
the utmost of the times we have occupying similar spaces in proximity.
i mean it.
activation is essential-
even when the day starts super early;
even when the previous night went way late;
even when the day is long and tedious;
even when the overall styles stay so flippin' hard.....
expert recognize expert,
and as such,
rise to the occasion with participation, gratitude, and generosity.
we got that.
ALL of that.
and we get it going;
never quiet, never soft.....