giving you the whole sausage.

oh, hey there, neighbors-
y'wanna know about something good?
you do?
great!
yesterday, my body-piercing buddy, wayne,
came to work for a few hours on his day OFF.
now, hold on,
that's not the great part.
the great part was that we chose to plan ahead, the day before,
for some crucial barbecuing during the off hours of the day's doings.
yup.
that's a change of pace, in time and place, without a doubt.
charcoal briquettes, and lighter fluid,
and a freshly scrubbed old and busted grill......
all good things, y'know?
when we're in a special circumstance,
and somebody is doing exxxtra,
i really think there should be a commensurate compensation
in the form of recognition and appreciation.
if you do MORE, you should get MORE.
that's a thing-
and we doo-doo that behind-the-building sh!t, kids,
and when we doo-doo that freaky cookout jauns,
we do it right.
i brought sweet onions for all that delicious low-sulphur sexiness they provide;
and scallions, for low-end green onion flavor, and top-end sprankle garnish;
and green, red, and yellow bell peppers, because they're the other other main ingredient;
plus,
hungarian wax hot peppers, for a subtle kick from un-pick-out-able sauteed slivers;
and small sweet orange tomatoes,
and two kinds of vegan sausages, for variety, and for good measure.
oh,
and buns, obvi.
jeez.
i know it may not seem like a big deal to y'all-
but,
sundays are the least ovely day of tattoo times in the woodsly goodness.
usually,
while the rest of the gigglers and squigglers all canoodle and cavort
and chortle together at whatever semi-clever middling comic notions they devise,
i'm in back, despised and sequestered and solo like carbonite.
ugh.
not this time, though, yo.
we had wives and ladies and bearded barbarian battlers
all gathered around the rusty cage of hot fire and smoky, savory flavors.
we only made the one kind of grillable goodness,
but we made sure the whole presentation was expert.
a little oil in a tray, with some fast food s&p packets for gourmet activation,
and a lot of stirring, and waiting, and grate-marking greatness gets it done.
friends,
check the deluxe-sausage-and-peppers-type teleport:

woooooooooooooooord.
we ate 'em all up, guys,
and it was only us.
the rest of the weak-sauce waterbabies weren't invited,
and most of them barely even attended work,
let alone any extra-curricular circulation among the fireworkers.
these sandwich buns were perfect for this purpose, too:

c'mon.
delicious.
for realsies.
and the whole time those veggies were sizzling away,
the entire shop smelled like a super-amazing fairground...
...sans animal butts.

mmmmmhmmm.
we rigged the whole scene to be as makeshift, and as prefect,
as the median line between the two could ever be.
and it worked!
a simple, succulent sausage and peppers party?
that's what happened.
and honestly,
it was every bit as rewarding as i'd hoped.
a feeling of camaraderie,
a shared expanse and experience....
i think people do that all the time,
but really,
worthy warrior poets rarely travel in packs,
so any overlap between folks and peoples and us is kind of an event.
i'm grateful for the time i have been given,
for the glimpses and gleanings that carry the most meaning,
and for the sausages that contain zero intestines and genitalia.
that's especially good.
this is it,
and that's about all;
never quiet, never soft.....