gettin' it.

HEY-O!!!!
look,
if i wasn't cookin',
i'd be bakin';
if i wasn't bakin',
i'd be drawing;
if i wasn't drawin',
i'd still be gettin' it...
...period.
i do stuff, duders.
and i do all of it a lot,
and i do every last bit of it as hard as i can.
that's how worthy warrior poetry works.
i'm in a fight to the death with life,
and even though i know it'll eventually get the best of me,
for the foreseeable meantimes before i bounce out,
i'm determined to win as many battles, skirmishes, conflicts,
brushfire brouhahas, blitzkrieg raids,
and drawn-out escalations of aggression in as many different ways as i can.
collateral damage is not tolerated, however,
so,
despite my no-quarter close quarters combat against every damned day,
i'm not taking any animal body parts down with me.
y'know?
a deathmatch powered by all-the-way-live life-giving goodness
is the only way to doo-doo that sort of sh!t.
no negotiations necessary,
and no olive branches extended-
in fact, i'd prefer only extra-virgin olive oil drizzles, please.
you gotta get after it, and you gotta get it.
rules is rules.
anything less is a gigantic waste of time,
and that's that inactive non-participation that i revile the most.
the point is-
you get to decide whether to just be dope,
or to F* right off.
it's really that simple.
so,
in the truest storytelling, and the realest of real life documentarianism,
i'll let you in on a little secret:
i went into saturday night with NO idea what to make,
just an imperative directive towards dopeness.
did i deliver?
you tell me:

KABLAMMO!!!!
neighbors,
c'mon.
i already knew i had some hottness on deck.
i mean,
i HAD to, and when you HAVE to, you do what needs doing.
on the fly,
no rehearsal, live, on a saturday night.
sandwich week is a good one,
and last night was exceptionally so.
soft parisian bread?
check.
single-side dry toasted?
you bet.
nootch-blasted, dry mustard seeded, olive-oiled,
macerated raw garlic-activated vegan mayo remoulade?
hell yeah!
the bread game was straight up expert,
so the insides couldn't be weak, y'know?
....they're molto strong, too, you can rest assured.
a base of big pickles, because pickles are good....
radicchio, red chili, parsley, cilantro, and basil slaw...
a red and green celebration of mayo-kissed crawnchy flavor.
neighbors!
that seitan tho.
herby-cripsy-spicy fuego-a-go-go like you wish you'd had in your mouth/.
smoked paprika, sage, cayenne, black pepper, and GPOP,
in a starchy flour, for that crucial crust of boomFIRE.
so spicy.
so crisp on the outside,
so juicy within.
what i mean is, i was gettin' it.
with vidalia onion strips, caramelized like a brown goddess of slippery love,
and incredibly sweet miniature orange pepper rings,
for a special crawnch, that lifted the whole thing to new heights.
it was pretty elite,. kids.
so F*ing elite, in fact,
that once i'd bitten the very last big bite,
i actually said, out loud- 'awwwwwwww',
because i knew there wasn't any more.
that's one rich 'guini, with oil upon oil everywhere,
and although  it wasn't greasy,
and it didn't feel very heavy,
i knew i should probably take care when it came to the accompaniments.
what?
stop it.
is that weak sauce?
i hope not.
too much is the right amount,
but too much midsection isn't so sexxxy.
when you're blarpin' hard
by the tail end of sandwich week,
you might want to think of a couple of better options.
damn.
so i made two salads,
because that's twice as smart-
baby british cukes, with pea tendrils,
and some of that ST^R W^RS carrot-ginger jauns;
a little old school throwback to my parents' place,
with a slightly more sophisticated house salad-
red onion, bib lettuce, and fancy tomatoes, oily, and vinegary,
and good for my nostalgic inklings.
ha.
*
my styles are hard,
but my gettin' skills are even harder.
still,
i'm sort of sad that this is the last day of sandwich week.
i mean, for serious,
i always have, and always will, absolutely HATE goodbyes.
that's no joke.
they're never good, and they always mean losing something...
however,
i will be gaining new options on the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress menu plan,
and i s'pose that's a fairly even trade.
eight days of strong 'guini goodness,
in a row,
and today is the day it all comes to a close.
guess what?
i've got NO idea what's on the plate tonight,
but i do know i'll have to make sure it rocks the party,
because the last song of the last show on your farewell tour
had better be a hit;
never quiet, never soft.....