Sunday, November 27


we had pumpkin pie on thanksgiving.
we did.
harvest insisted, and she's very bossy.
to be fair,
i do enjoy a modified conventional tradition turned vegan,
and made 100% more expert.
i mean,
who wouldn't want to turn it up to eleven,
and take a slice of super-elite smooth pumplestiltskin sorcery to the dome?
only an A*-hole, that's who.
and we're not tryna live that bullsh!t in the Folk, Life & Liberty Fortress.
not even for a second.
so, we made ourselves some pump up,
and we loved it, and we think that you will, too.
check the belated-bleating-bebop-type teleport:
we get down and dirty with the pie times around these parts.
that's real.
and this dirty bird was no exception.
smooth as baby butts;
spicy like white girl coffees;
crusty like gutter punx;
this jammie-jam is the TRUTH.
how do you get your hands on one?
you make it.
and to do that, you do this-
ovenly heat should be 350F
2 pkgs graham crax, crushed,
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 T melted butts
1 tsp vanilla
non-dairy milk, added by the tsp,
until the mix is malleable, and holds it's shape.
form it, bake it for 11 minutes, and let it cool a bit.
how easy is that?
yeah. i know.
12 oz 'umpkin puree
1/2 cup kapowdered sugs
cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, mace, and cloves
pinch of salt
1/4 cup tapioca (optional- i personally prefer my pump up firmer)
1 T flour
1 T ground golden flaxmeal
1 1/2 pkg tofutti creamchee'
splash of maple syrup
food process or blend that until smooth as heck,
and pour it into the crust. logical, huh?
bake it for thirty-forty minutes,
until it only barely jiggles when you shake it.
^ that's enough hottness for anybody^
that's not enough hottness for us.
which is why we hit it up with that maple-cider frosting halo,
and those flaky cinnamon-spiked pastry acorn accents.
i'm just sayin',
when it's time to get wordimus prime, neighbors,
we really make it do some stunts and feats of flavortown boomfire.
the frosting is simple as heck:
in a stand mixer (if you're treally real)
or bowl and whisk (electric i hope, for your sake)
combine 4 T butts
1 1/2 cup pow-pow-powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
a splash of maple syrup
and cider, drizz'd in there until it's fluffy as F*.
you've got magic at your fingertips, kids.
i believe in you.
my kids go back today.
back home,
to the comfortable confines of the not-so-great-state of connecticut.
there's thanksgiving thursday,
black friday,
and even a cybermonday.
the stuck in there is the one day they haven't named yet.
the sh!t-salad sunday where everybody sits in traffic
on their way back to where they were last wednesday-
and i'm about to be all up in that mess for miles and miles, as i drive the day away,
in between a serious case of crabtree caregiving.
that b!tch-A* brindle mongrel muthaF*er really got him good.
oh, he got bit behind his ear, remember?
well, he did.
by a budget beast, and all for his overexuberant superfriendliness.
he hasn't learned that optimism is a recipe for punishment yet,
but he's still young. he'll get it, eventually.
7x cleaner than my mouth or not,
that sh!thole's salivary scum infected the puncture,
which swelled to the size of a softball,
and my happy little battle-bullet looks more like the elephant man than a terrier.
and what's worse (and a little better)
is that he has been listless and uncomfortable since.
so, now he's got himself some antibiotics,
and a lacerated/shaved/awful-looking
incident-area event-horizon, rife with redness and swelling,
and a regimen of painkillers that have my sweet boy all drug-addled and dopey.
and after all THAT,
i'm gonna be driving roundtrip back and forth
to and from the unrivaled F*ery of massholechusetts,
instead of being home with him, or even being nearby,
tattzapping aboard that blasted and ballasted bilge-pump of a bummer-barge.
...and the kids wont be here for a whole other 'nother 'nother month,
and i'm empty-nesting extra hard.
i miss them already, and they're still asleep upstairs.
i can't say it enough-
i'm grateful for the time we get together,
and while it's nowhere near as much as i'd like,
i think we really concentrate all our focus attention, and intentions
on making the maxxximum magic in the minimum minutes.
we gotta.
anything else would be a slap in the mouth to the worthy warrior poetry
and active participation that compose our savage stormswept symphony
of fresh and flavorful family togetherness.
it's all really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

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