Friday, May 3


i need a little italian love sometimes.
nothing weird.
take it easy.
i'm talking about pasta and sauce.
baked penne.
i don't know how to better introduce it.
i mean, really-
it's a blarpity blop of all sorts of soft wet stuff,
but it's F*ing awesome.
check it:

three-quarters of a box of mini pasta,
one and a half jars of marinara-
i used muh-fuhh'n jar sauce.
jeez, neighbors, i know i shouldn't've, but i did it anyway.
it did the trick, but i'm disappointed in myself a little.
it's almost a sin.
however, what's done is done, and this was still pounds and pounds of pasta.
i had half a block of exxxtra-firm tofu, a whole block of silken tofu,
2 T of nootch,
plus 3/4 cup of minced daiya mozzarella,
and of course: oregano, basil, rosemary, thyme, sage, GPOP, and black pepper;
plus fresh parsley sprankles,
a splash of tamari, a few dried shallot chips, and fire-roasted tomato flakes.
all the stuff, stirred up, all sloppy,
and hooked up with half a bag of veggie crOmbles, sauteed with olive oil
and onion and garlic and baby tomatoes, poked to burst,
and a whole lotta spinach.
look, kid-
i dunno how much of this stuff i used.
y'know why?
because it doesn't matter.
if it looks like the amount you want, it's probably right.
that's fine.
did i grate miyoko mozz on top?
i did.
and did i add more nootch?
did i get rad with MORE green leaves up top?
F* yeah.
look at the unbaked penne:

almost as good. but the hot heat really makes it way better.
i baked it forever at 380℉, covered in foil.
i even uncovered it for a few, to give it a little exxxtra.
is this informative?
is my head feeling weird?
i'll tell you what though-
i ate a TON of it.
too much is the right amount.
i had scoople after scoople upon scoople of this heavy-duty fill-up fresh-to-deathness.
that's just how i do it.
carbs, bro.
they aren't sugar, but they aren't not sugar, either.
i'm freezin'.
the sun's still not out.
it's cloudy, and grey, and rainy, and no bueno at all, y'all.
i don't know who ordered the lame month of may,
but i'd heard it was gonna be merry merry.
or at least, that's how the song goes.
there's plenty of time, so i s'pose patience is what's required.
i'm not sure if my temperament is up to the task.
i've got that no-sugar headache throbbin',
and a little black tea caffeination sensation making my heart flutter.
what's that hold in store for the kind of friday i'm liable to have?
like, what sort of suffering soul-searchin' is on the horizon?
i'm not 100% sure it's gonna be a bad day,
but it feels pretty dark, dreary, dismal, and dour right now.
crabtree has been whining for at least three hours about nothing.
so he's successfully frayed every last nerve in my body,
and he's due for a karate chop or ten, to balance out the morning.
don't you dare feel badly for him.
he's been working at it for some time,
and i'm just obliging his fight club proclivity;
never quiet, never soft.....

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