but,
i totally got to clean up about an acre of excrement yesterday.
uh-huh.
my poor little idiot shark-bullet ate something 'sgusting,
and it did exactly what you'd expect.
mmhmm.
underdigested fecal explosions,
pursuant to unauthorized ill-advised ingestion of befouled bits
of rotten grossness are NOT expert.
nope.
no way.
not even one little tiny bit.
....and certainly not in piles and splashes.
i mentioned that yesterday,
but there was one small addition that occurred while i was at work.
apparently,
there was still quite a bit MORE.
yup.
crabtree blew the lid off of his crate,
and filled it up with skids and splats,
which, naturally, due to the size constraints,
covered his entire aft side as well.
whew.
coming home, early, is going to be my new job, anyway,
without the day to day assistance of my lovely assistant.
so,
what better way to start a first-day scenario off?
a TON of diarrhea, after a whole night of diarrhea?
no chance of that being an allegory, i'm sure.
guys,
too much is the right amount,
but when it's sh!t?
oh MAN, is it ever.
superlative, but not super, if y'feel me.
-
sooooooo,
i had a late afternoon laundry situation develop,
and a whole lot of cider vinegar and baking soda to soak up the olfactory markers,
and hopefully keep crabby from deciding this house is his toilet.
yuck.
also,
we had a shower.
yeah.
...to wash off all the crap, obvi.
so,
once we were all tidied up,
and everything was scooped up, scraped off,
disinfected, laundered, soaked, rinsed, sprayed,
and back to normal-
i lit a few candles, and thought better of giving my little guy
anything other than rice for dinner.
and where there's rice,
(and on a tuesday no less!)
there's a basis on which to get expert with that meal.
neighbors,
when life hands you a house full of poop,
and a dog emptied out of it,
what else is there to do but make some dinner and get over it?
seriously.
thank goodness for good food.
without it,
i'd be lost.
check the triumph-after-the-fall-type teleport:
WHAAAAAT!!!!
that's right, mofos-
just because mostly everything is weak sauce,
that's no excuse not to go solo on an expedition
to the topmost tier of TACO TUESDAY!!!!!!
...get at me, dog.
the main body of each is a custom blended slow-simmer of
onions, jalapenos, green bell pepper, garlic, cilantro, diced tomatoes,
bouillon, GPOP, cayenne, smoked paprika, liquid smoke, coriander, cumin,
and smashed up three-grain tempeh.
word!
tempeh crumbles up like a taco-ready treat
that everybody should get into at least once.
with all those fixin's in there, too?
c'mon.
the tempeh hydrates in the brothy tomato base,
and everything else really sorta soaks in super deeply as it cooks.
the flavor is phenomenal,
and just the nostril-pleasing bouquet on that bad b!tch
started washing away the first hour of my homecoming cleaner than the shower.
mmmmmmmmm.
i had cilantro greenery on one;
i had baby kale on another;
the other two?
i shredded some curly savoy cabbage, and broke up a head of tart radicchio,
and let that hold fast under that tempeh.
i used jasmine rice.
why?
because i care, man,
and i wanted something delicate for crabtree.
honestly,
i needed a little gentleness as well.
awwwwwww.
and when i had those elements in place,
i turned it up a little,
and brought my A+ game to the avocado scene.
fiesta guacamole in full rainbow regalia was cranked up to level eleven.
no question.
all my frustrations were alchemically polymorphed into pure magic.
red chili, jalapeno, poblano, green bell, yellow and orange sweet minis,
and cracked black pepper competed for promionence,
while red onion, scallion, garlic, cilantro, lemon and lime worked in concert
with a trio of perfectly ripe avocados to synergistically symphonize the
sensual smooth and chunky greatness of a well prepared guac'-rockin' reality.
BOOOOOOOOM.
for the sake of variety,
i also added cukes, fancy tomatoes, pickled jalapenos, red onion, alfalfa sprouts,
cilantro, and scallion sprankles.
damn.
for enduring a dirty, disappointing, distracted day of doo-doo butter,
i still pulled out a delicious dinnertime like a worthy warrior poet.
there's no excuse for weak sauce.
that's the truth.
we get a choice, every day, broskis:
just be dope, or F* right off.
real talk.
one is harder;
but,
since when has taking it easy ever been any good for anybody?
if the nights are long, get up and stay up-
if the styles are getting too hard, then you've gotta try harder-
if the weight of the world is on your shoulders,
do a few squats, improve that A*,
and then shrug it off.
it's all really happening,
the literal and figurative sh!tstorms,
AND the decadent and delicious dopeness.
ugly truths and ugly people abound and abide,
but no ugly food is invited into my abode, duders;
never quiet, never soft.....
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