less talk, more taco.

neighbors,
you know i come to party when it's tuesday.
yep.
i can't bring no weak sh!t up in here when it's time to rock the house
with a ton of tasty tacos for my big fat face.
real talk.
if it so happens that it's taco tuesday,
and i'm home half an hour early?
and i need the nutrients that'll numb up the nasty feeling
of tattooing FOUR varying-sized parallel leg bands,
AND a nearly perfect circle,
all in the same day?
damn, duders,
you KNOW i had to have the tacos that would be even more expert than usual.
........so i did that.
ha!
check the tasty-taco-time-tuesday-triumph-type teleport:

FUEGO FOR YOUR F*ING FACE!!!
lime-marinated spiralized zucchini, with cilantro and scallions!!!
damn,
those ribbons are delicious.
with black beans, cooked with GPOP and scallion bulbs,
and added into some long grain rice!
on a bed of alfalfa sprouts, with freh pineapple, and red onion,
and orange mini tomatoes, with black-peppery-lime-cashew-crema!!!!
dudes,
that's something my mouth was pretty psyched to have in it.
but,
there was more.
obvi.
too much is the right amount-
seared seitan, with cumin, coriander, onion, poblano, cayenne,
and smokiness from paprika and liquid soy-ishness,
GPOP, garlic, and pepper,and a whole lotta LOVE.
yep.
love.
my passion for seitan knows no boundaries.
that's a thing.
i put that sexxy stuffin' on shredded baby spinach,
and gave it a dose of coolwater crawnch with those cucumbers,
and a few sweet pepper rings,
before i really activated the taste boosters with that salsa fresca picante.
hot garlicky homemade magic is what i wanted,
and it's what i made for myself.
i gave those some crema, and a few cilantro sprankles,
and then i terrorized that plate in about six minutes.
that'd almost be gross, if it didn't taste so damned good.
also,
crabtree doesn't give a sh!t about my table manners,
so we're all cool over here.
***********
good food is what i look forward to.
that's really all there is to it.
i work, i work some more, i walk this dog,
i shower him with affection,
i monitor his self-destructed insides,
and i sleep, after a little more exercise.
art making is elusive these days.
all the walking and thinking and cooking and working has me
feeling slightly less than makey in the markers and paints sense.
who knows?
maybe that's set to change as costume season gets underway.
i sure hope so.
where will i find the time?
beats me.
is three hours of sleep a day enough?
i s'pose we'll have to wait and see.
it's all really happening,
even if that means some of it isn't.
does that make sense?
i honestly can't tell;
never quiet, never soft.....