Monday, September 2


i said the words to summon the spirit and memory.
i spit out the syllables that will hopefully cultivate more beneficial coincidences.
i did the superlative superstitious spoken word-up wizardry.
and now we wait.
maybe it works better than anyone cold ever really even know,
and NOT saying it would result in a genuine cataclysm?
i mean,
i'm not ever feeling lucky enough to find out.
so, i wake up, and from my clenched teeth i gnash out the magic mutha-F*ing words:
rabbit! rabbit!
and the day progresses from there.
here's the thing-
yesterday was a sunday,
and it was also the first of the month,
and that means that this week is obligated to bring some sort of lightning-striking viking
berserker barbarian battle-beastly kitchen dominance to the offering table.
for real.
because rules is rules,
and what happens when the month starts in the topmost left square of the calendar?
that's exxxactly right:
it's sandwich week.
the best time anybody has ever had in between bread.
eight days of delightful delicious dopeness, dudes.
in a row.
eight days?
that's correct.
too much is the right amount, OBVI.
word up.
and that's what's going on over here.
i made seitan from scratch.
i made red lentil wheat gluten sausages.
i made red lentil maple breakfast sausage patties, too. same but different.
i already fired up some tempeh bacon,
AND gluten-free tempeh chick pea wheatless meatless BALLZ.
i got exxxtra-firm tofu poppin' off,
i'm baking bread,
i'm back to buying specific loaves from the old village bakery,
and i even got some turbo-soft bulkie bad boyz as well.
those're those kaiser soze jauns for sloppy-style josephs.
i dunno.
we'll all have to just wait and see what unfolds this week.
on the real, i think i have about 11 sandwiches on deck,
not including the easy brekkie ones or the simple snackers an' that..
that's more than one big-action activated banger a day, neighbors-
and that's a good thing.
for dinner, i had a sandwich.
that's weird.
check it:

fried tofu, lettuce, red onion, vegan mayo, pea shoots, salt, pepper, and ho'sauce.
but after the breakfast exxxplosion of turbo-level boomfire hottness i had,
there wasn't even room for anything else.
every day, almost everybody i know is straight up not having a good time.
i want to make tattooing fun, but my clients are trying to make it as tedious as possible,
so that means that my work life is a tiresome and wearily worrying as my home life.
you can't make people get cool tattoos, you can just do your best on the tattoos they want.
you can't make believe you;re happy when you aren't,
you can't really pretend you're nice if you're not,
in fact, you can't make anybody do anything,
and you can't be somebody better than the person you are.
sure, you can keep working towards improvement in all the things, but if it were easy,
everybody would be an ideal archetype already, right?
it's hard styles and tough times and that's all-
that's just how it is out there in the world.
you can make the exact sandwich you wish you were eating
with a very minimal level of intention and effort.
that's a dream coming true in hand-held edible format.
i'll take a bright spot wherever i find it, bro.
my feelings and my career and my whole F*ing life are kind of a bummer,
but this weeklong sandwich festival is the BEST thing going.
sometimes, that's all you get;
never quiet, never soft.....

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