Sunday, May 21


shoutouts to the maine falafel company,
a.k.a. the falafel mafia,
a.k.a the dudes with the foods......
the fryeburg, maine, home and garden show is apparently the place to be,
if where you want to be is near a whole bunch of tomato plants and patio sh!t.
which, while i don't mind being surrounded by those things,
aren't really a reason for me to get ready early in the a.m., y'feel me?
i'll run a mile for a falafel any damned day of the week.
i met up with my buddy dennis,
and we rode out across the state line,
with the xpress prupose of a special visit to the farmland fairgrounds.
yeah, that's right-
we paid the gosh-danged admission to the all-day-long event,
just to beeline directly to the falafel stand,
get a whole mess of incredible edible excellence for our faces,
and walk right back out in under thirty minutes,
all so i could get to work at the studio with a sated and exalted smile on my face..
brunch falafels are a thing, now,
and i think that's pretty F*ing expert.
if you don't know what falafel are, welcome to earth,bro.
there's a flippin' emoji for it, so get with the second decade of the new millennium,
for crying out loud.
c'mon, now.
word up.
look at the new hottness they're reppin' these days:

that's mega-omega-level tahini,
crucial chick pea activation times two,
and all the pickled goodness that'd fit into those
elite new yeast-raised pitas!!
sharing the experience with a good friend made it even better.
in fact,
introducing folks to the falafel situation is one of my minor hobbies.
once a year, i've got to make a trip to the spot with somebody,
to initiate them into one of my favorite pastimes-
overindulgent single-minded purposeful shark-gluttony.
don't stop moving, don't stop eating.
and then,
it was time to really get to work-
in order to pay for all those sarnies,
i've got to tattzap the crap out of some people
all day every day,
since a grand don't come for free, on the ones.
so i did that, too.
an insane cover-up of a thick black tribal,
with ornate paisley organic stuff,
on a tasty lady from the eighties who needed her sad late nineties tattoos
to be upgraded to something sweet, sassy, and sophisticated for this modern age.
when you need tattoo solutions,
suddenly, i've inherited your problems.
thanks for that, everybody...
the repair work began, but we didin't finish,
but that session was immediately followed by my buddy toby.
i've been tattooing him for over a decade.
and we did finish his large-and-in-charge 3/4 backpiece all-seasons tree.
that's something.
did i i take a picture of either?
c'mon, man.
are tattoos made out of cake?
well, then, there's your answer.
when you've got history with your clients,
the time passes effortlessly.
there's the catching up followed by the effing around followed by the making of plans...
there are much worse ways to channel the sustenance
of a super-awesome falafel exxplosion, for sure.
in fact,
at the final tally, all told,
it was a free-flowing connected and attuned day.
you guys know what THAT means, don't you?
the pricetag for good news is steep,
and there's sure to be pressure, stress, and complications all day today,
just so the balance levels out to a no-good-days average.
that's bleak,
but, really real life is not for the weak, neighbors.
i mean it.
and, what's even worse, is that i'm not exactly feeling very creative,
at least, not in the kitchen, where most of the major arcana of activated victual
virtuosity is manifested most of the time.
so, at the moment, i'm out of ideas for food.
holy sh!t.
that's no joke,
and it's not funny.
i'm just suddenly sort of not feelin' as hungry.
weird right?
i know!
it's a brainstorming and tattblasting and haircutting kind of day.
let's all hope inspiration strikes between now and supper,
lest the next missive also be all about other people's food and my boooooring day job.
no matter what, it's all really happening,
and that's the point;
never quiet, never soft.....

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