SOPA!!!

it's cold outside.

no, for real, though- it's cold.

like, y'better wear sweatshirts and long pants and socks and sh!t.

uh-huh.

y'know: cold.

also, it's wet af, too.

and cold wetness is pretty effin' terrible.

also,

i've been trying to be slightly more responsible with my diet.

that's real.

me and my dudes are trying to exercise restraint, 

and create a more health-supportive routine for ourselves.

that means MORE good plant-based whole-foods and fewer cakes and stuff like that.

what?

oh, well, yeah, man- that's NOT my favorite part,

but, i'm feeling like maybe taking down half a cake every other day 

is getting less and less sustainable, and while in the moment it's soooooo good,

i'm imagining that in the hopefully-not-too-distant future 

i'll have the opportunity to get naked near another human being,

and if they're more likely to call the sea shepherd instead to roll me back into the sea....

well, neighbors, you get the idea.

so, the cake situation has been scaled back, but not eliminated.

after all, i'm a baker and a maker and a morning person (in the mornings),

and rules is rules, always, and all the time...

yeah. it IS weird not to have thirteen kinds of cakes and cookies around-

but what's not weird is looking is having MORE energy, and feeling better,

and hopefully, with enough work and effort, looking better before too much time has passed,

and it's time to bundle up for winter again...

that said-

i ate like 7 cups of soup last night.

uh-huh.

i know it's basically just really wet vegetables,

but that's still an awful lot of food to put in your body, bro.

me and my homie dylan got into some gluttonous soup-diving,

and didn't stop until it was all gone.

check the first-round-type teleport:

I DON'T KNOW WHAT ITALIAN WEDDING SOUP IS.

i could find out............but i'm not gonna.

instead i'll call this a shotgun-eloping soup, and tell you a little bit about it.

-

it all began when i had pizza for lunch.

i didn't need it, i was even feeling ok without it; but then it showed up, 

and i ate the heck out of it like a savage stormswept starving artist.

as such, i was apprehensive about overindulging at suppertime,

and dylan suggested soup. 

which makes sense. it's cold out, it's wet out, 

soup is light and warm and that's good news, right?

right.

except,

y'boi got into some things; 

and they were heavy-duty things; 

and when the soup was all boiled and simmered and served,

it was a F*ing beast of a bowl of burliness.

i mean. c'mon, man.

look at this:

HOMEMADE SOURDOUGH HERB CROUTONS!!!

expert.

*

guys,

i had a potato, and an onion, both chopped up, 

with a fat cup of chopped cabbage, 

all sauteeing in a blop of vegan butteriness-

i tossed in two stalks of sliced celery;

two smaller carrots, one yellow, one orange, chopped up;

a handful of baby tomatoes;

a 15 oz. can of diced tomatoes;

3 cloves sliced garlic;

half a sweet potato, cubed;

and let that stuff sizzle for a spell, stirring once in a while-

then i drizzled in:

3 T white wine vinegar;

2 T tamari...

those are the liquids that'll quickly deglaze the caramelized bits-

next, i added in a handful of nootch, and heavy shakes of GPOP, 

oregano, basil, rosemary, thyme, and sage;

plus fresh parsley and basil, a few bay leaves, crushed red pepper flakes,

and a whole lotta craxxx of black pepper.

mmmhmmmm.

next up?

8 cups of better'nbouillon-based vegetable broth.

a few shakes of liquid smoke.

1 cup and a half of fancy pasta noods,

and a huge handful of baby kale,

and a lid on the pot.

it boiled, hard for a bit, and simmered soft for about as long, again.

i dunno how long-

it's soup, kid. when the potatoes are soft, it's ready, alright?

i like the pasta overdone, all extra soft and slippery, like in the olden days.

hmmm?

the olden days, bro.

like, when i was little and my nana would hook up some soup.

i didn't have a single al dente noodle in broth ever in my life.

real talk.

a few garden fresh herbs, parsley sprankles,

and those mutha-fuhhh'n croutons, b.

that's what's poppin'.

-

*

SOURDOUGH CROUTONS!!

-

two thick slices of my epic homemade sprouted whole wheat sourdough bread, cubed.

thrown in a gallon-sized plastic bag, 

with:

olive oil (enough to coat 'em);

GPOP; 

nootch;

dill;

ground mustard;

thyme;

sage;

and black pepper.

tossed, shaken, and arranged on parchment on a baking tray,

and oven roasted until toasty and crisp, at 350℉, until they're golden brown 

and sexxxy like you read about. (which you are doing right now)

*

so, soup is good food.

and it's easy and rewarding and filling, 

and there are nearly no requirements, other than to put all the stuff in a pot of liquid

i did that. we had that.

and then we had more, and then, we had MORE. and then we had MORE.

yup.

it was too good not to keep eating, so we kept eating.

too much is the right amount.

and without cakes for dessert, we had to have soup for all four courses.

.

that was some damn good soup.

***********

it's rainy and cold again, today.

i wonder what it's like out west?

why?

because my bestest friend, ever.

my spiritual other.

my main man. 

my ace numero uno duder,

the cucch,

is having a berfday today,

and it had better be a happy one, or there will be consequences.

man, oh man, do i ever miss his F*ing face.

he'd probably prefer to ignore his berfday.

yeah.

he's one of THOSE people.

and in that regard, we differ greatly.

otherwise,

he's a super-elite, molto expert, and very, very busy man-

running a business, 

and double-dadding to a pair of beautiful babies, 

hard-style husbanding to his lovely wife-

basically, he's a much more successful version of me, 

navigating an upward trajectory of awesomess.

i admire the guy.

i miss him, too.

we're apart, but we're a part of a team, too.

warrior poets and hamden warriors and Folk Life Libertarians, 

and all of the times and places and spaces and trials and triumphs we've shared.

i'm grateful for him above all others, and i make no apologies for it, either.

that's my mans, and that's the truth.

the happiest of happy berfdays is exxxactly what i want for him today;

never quiet, never soft.....

PIZZA FOREVER

y'know how to cure the monday blues?
work every day.
then, there's no mondays; or, they're all mondays,
but either way, there's no point to getting sad about going back to work,
because you're always at work.
maybe that sounds terrible to y'all, and that's cool-
relaxing and having fun sounds like my own personal hell,
so we'll just agree to disagree, and i'll go hard every day,
and you can be bummed out when the weekend is over.
anyway, today is monday, but that's nothing to me, man.
however:
yesterday, after a slew of tattblasted zipzaps,
and a long stretch of workin' and flexin' and stuntin',
i left an hour early and got deep into some things.
yup.
homemade radical expert vegan pizza is sort of my field of expertise.
and my skills don't take days off any more than the rest of me does.
check the teleport:

PEE EYE ZEE ZEE AYY!!
that's a slow-proof sprouted whole wheat dough, with added wheat germ,
just to give it that exxxtra healthy fiber upgrade.
here's the recipe:
-
*
SPROUTENWHEATENDOUGH!
-
in your dough-hook-equipped stand mixer,
knead the following all together-
1 cup sprouted wheat flour;
1 cup bread flour;
3 T wheat germ;
1 1/2 tsp salt;
3 T vegan butter;
1 pkg fast-actin' yeast;
1 tsp sugar;
1 cup not-too-hot-but-more-than-warm water,
plus 1-2+ T more if necessary-
beat it up until it's smooth and firm and fully doughfied, like 5-8 minutes,
cover the whole bowl with plastic of equivalent,
and refrigerate the whole thing all flippin' day.
y'know?
like, i made my dough at seven a.m., and let it hang out in coolness until 5,
and then spread it on my olive-oiled half-sheet pan,
and let it rise with all sorts of activated warmth while the oven reached 480℉
with the convection circulating that hot air like it was scandalous rumors, bro.
mmhmmmm.
*
that's how you doo-doo grown-man sh!t in the kitchen, neighbors.
and while that oven keeps getting hotter,
the toppings keep getting more numerous.
yeah.
too much is the right amount.
look:

that's ALL the goodness, all at once, all in one place.
wordimus prime, b.
we got pulped fire-roasted chunky tomatoes as sauce,
and that's spread over two fistfuls of baby kale,
and one big vidalia, sliced and caramelized.
tight.
then there's the drained tomato-juicy broccoli crowns.
since you've kinda gotta add liquid to make broccoli better when it's sauteeing,
so it softens properly, y'might as well use the juice from those fire-roasties, right?
i know. that's smart.
there's scallion sprankles.
there's also dry-pan-fried asparagus spears, and blackened sliced tomatoes.
how about those mushrooms?
quartered and sizzled into thick, meaty awesomeness.
a little pink salt is all i added to the pan, man.
huh?
what?
c'mon, don;t be dumb-
of COURSE i had the fattie-boombattie fried garlic sprankles.
jeez- rules is rules.
...and after it baked to a beautiful brown?
i freaked it off with radicchio ribbons and fresh-plucked basil leaves.
that's riiight.
if you ain't taking pizza to eleven, you're just taking up space in the worst way.
***********
and i'm gonna work again today.
and it's F*ing raining, so dog walking is gonna be an ordeal.
and i'm at work alone today while the pizza joint next door is closed-
that's fine, really,
but damn if we don't look closed af when there's no cars but mine in the parking lot.
it's all really happening,
and while i'm psyched to tattoo a great big hawk on ron, whoever he is,
it's not likely that the wonderful woman of my dreams is going to just show up with him
and also just happen to be looking for competent conversation
and highly-suggestive expressive facial mannerisms.
-
i've been told my face says it ALL.
i guess i throw looks all day, dudes.
and here i thought i was unreadable;
but i think that was meant as more of a correlation to a poorly written story.
hey- at least it's a true story.
ugly and honest is better, isn't it?
we'll see.
because apparently i can't disguise my delight nor my distaste.
it's all really happening and it's written all over my F*ing face;
never quiet, never soft.....

SA'TURD'AY

saturday night had me feeling worn the eff out, dudes.

uh-huh.

a full day of tattoo appointments,

with a little walk-in squeezed in, too-

after a hot and sweaty morning of exercising,

in anticipation of the summer body that has somehow eluded me every summer for decades;

which had me shimmering in overheated humidity before i even began

dragging crabtree for his pre-work constitutional,

so that by the time i got home to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,

for some decompression, or at least some kind of super suppertime...

....i was already all spent, used up, and worn out.

and that meant dinner was kind of a distracted attack 

on stacks upon stacks of stuff i had already.

yup.

sometimes, there's no time, man-

-

i had steak fries in the oven, baking throughout the preheat process, 

as soon as i walked in the door.

-

i shredded some slaw, because crawnchy raw veg is what your body wants-

red cabbage, radicchio, green cabbage, carrot, and scallions, 

with a lil crackle of himalayan salt,

and a small blop of vegenaise to dress it up.

-

and then, of course, i made a FAT sandwich, like the fat pig within me demanded.

check the teleport:

WORD.

huh?

well,

yeah. i'm guilty, neighbors.

that IS ketchup.

organic agave jauns, with sriracha, and liquid smoke, and just a touch of tamari.

i KNOW, i know i know-

ketchup is for A*-holes.

and also, That's What Poor People Do.

i've been feeling impoverished of character, 

and i guess i subconsciously acted accordingly.

but,

that sandwich, though.

for reals.

so many good things packed into one spot,

ready for my big fat mouth to bite-rip-tear-gnash and masticate 

like the savage stormswept shark-glutton we know me to be...

yep.

look closer at this thick, greasy, sunovabtchin' burly beast:

yikes!

that's a lotta stuff.

and that's what happens when i dunno what's happening.

ha.

we got pan-toasted olive-oiled homemade sourdough bread.

we got lettuce, and AVO-F*ING-CADO, and charred cabbage, too.

then, there's that smoky chick-pea-flour-crusted savory fried tofu.

yumyumYUM-

seriously, guys- garam flour, GPOP, smoked paprika, parsley, 

and freshly-cracked black pepper, on exxxtra-firm slabs of tufu, fried up,

all exxxtra-crispy on the surface, but still soft and steamy in the centers.

that's expert af, and that's what made my flippin' night.

then there's pickles and caramelized onions, 

just to really make it a heaping mountain of excess.

too much is the right amount, 

and everything else is a waste of time.

my best work? nope. missed that mark by a mile.

i actually kind of took it easy, and didn't even actually eat everything.

i know, right?!

what a little diaper baby.

-

and right after dinner, the crabby-boi and i were out in town, making our rounds, 

in a big loop through the village center.

that's our thing, man.

we digest our day, and our food, and try to find nourishment from both.

then he poops on something, and i give him a cookie,

and that's all pretty good stuff.

***********

time is ticking and tocking away,

and every day,

i'm up earlier and earlier, 

and it feels like i'm getting less and less done...

i get home and i'm tired.

like, actually tired.

and then i cook, and i give the dog his due attention,

and by the time it's finally dark,

i'm done for.

that's not my style, friends.

did i turn actually all-the-way old?

or is 4 am too early to wake up every day?

or is staying up late texting from this old haunted house getting to me?

probably everything, all at once.

the thing is-

my routine is solidified- 

it's as heavy as cement, and just as dense. 

it's all really happening, 

and there's got to be room for a little MORE.

i mean, c'mon.

there's so many things to DO.

so many things to MAKE.

i wanna produce quality content,

even if contentment never settles in.

that's all.

no sleep, no worries, no problem-

all i want is MORE of everything all the time every day until 

the day i die in the far flung future-

i don't see how that's unreasonable;

never quiet, never soft.....

SPRANKLES!

i figured i'd celebrate june with a little rainbow pride month magic.

i mean, c'mon.

sprankles are the best.

and i want 'em on just about everything.

which is why i made a little single layer cake-

...just to have something to get sprank'd on.

and it's a rainbow of deliciousness, and it's also coconut,

which just happens to rank very high on my list of best things.

mmhmmm.

take a quick look at what's poppin':

YEAH!!

neighbors, a coconut cake is a glorious thing, provided you don't eff up the texture.

that means the order of operations, and the type of coconut are very very important.

i know you guys don't wanna make some budget-A* bullsh!t,

so first and foremost, skip that suckbomb sulphured chewy shredded stuff.

y'know?

yep, 

avoid that stuff if you're smart-

on the ones: that's dumdum coconut, and it's NOT invited to my makeout parties.

however, 

medium flake unsweetened natural bits are totally ON the menu,

and should be purchased in bulk whenever possible 

so that you've got a backup supply, and a backup for your backup.

too much is the right amount.

that's real.

i like a nice treat on the first of the month.

that's kind of my thing.

which is why i was up early early baking cake and whipping frosting.

uh-huh.

i do that.

you want this particular coconut cake recipe?

you DO?

ok. here:

-

*

COCONUT CAKE!

-

preheat your oven to 350℉

-

grease a 9" springform pan (that's my move, buddy) 

-

in your outstanding stand mixer, cream up:

2/3 cup sugar;

1/4 cup brown sugar;

2 tsp vanilla;

1 tsp coconut essential extract;

1/2 tsp salt;

1/2 cup vanilla unsweetened coconut yogurt;

1/2 cup (a.k.a.1 stick, a.k.a 8T) vegan butter.

add:

1/2 cup coconut flakes;

and whisk again.

pour in 1 cup carton-style coconut milk,

and, that's right, whip it even MORE.

now, add:

2 1/2 cups flour;

2 tsp bakey powder;

1 tsp bakey soda;

1/4 cup tapioca starch.

whip it into a frenzy,

spread it evenly in your cake pan,m

and bake it for like 37 minutes.

does that seem arbitrary? it is. 

bake it until it's thoroughly done, dudes;

and then let it cool to room temperature on a wire rack.

-

the frosting is pretty standard stuff:

3 cups powdered sugar;

1 stick vegan butts;

1 tsp vanilla;

3 T powdered coconut flakes (pulverized in your spice grinder);

1/3 cup lowfat coconut milk.

for realsies, that's all there is to it.

and then y'gotta hit it with the double-sprank.

stars and standard dashes.

they're gross, but they're expert,

and they do their job every time.

***********

i took my damned dumb dog for a sweaty bug-bitten bummer of a walk yesterday.

then, i did it again after work,

only with indian food awaiting me at the car.

uh-huh.

take-away and parking lot picnic time 

was the only way i could think of to welcome june to dinner.

and i'll tell you what-

spicy potatoes and peas and fried garam blops 

and weird bread were exxxactly what i needed.

hot, humid nights, with hot, humid food, for my sweaty face.

ugh.

what can i say?

i like the spice, and i like the nights, and while crabtree and i are all alone,

we're also outside, and out alongside the summertime vacation vibes, man.

nobody who is also walking around town is unhappy.

they're experiencing something resembling joy-

i'm experiencing my dog pooping and getting tired.

it's not the same, but it is the truth.

they're relaxing, and we're working at wearing ourselves down.

*

i'm not shy.

and i don't really ever feel ashamed.

that's the thing about thinking about what you're doing before you do it.

that's the thing about personal rational self-interested pro-active participation.

that's the thing about a head's up, eyes-open informed decision-making process.

y'feel me on this?

think about what you're doing, and why, 

and make an assessment of the value of the investment. 

then what the eff do you have to be shy or ashamed or worried about?

i think about that whenever i'm faced with meeting new people.

sure, i sometimes get embarrassed, but not really.

i mean, 

for sure, i'm old, i'm busted, i'm bald, 

and things are most likely only going to continue sliding downhill faster

as time marches on-

but i still show up every damned day with confidence and charisma.

that's weird, right? 

yeah, i know. but the mantra is:

stay ugly, stay dope, dude.

like, what else would i even do?

and besides, rules is rules.

what's more,

i'm a generally outspoken advocate for the things i like and only the things i like, 

which are admittedly few; 

and i'm otherwise a big blustery blowhardy loudmouth critic about everything else,

which is literally everything else.

i look how i look, 

which is half cultivated and curated personal style,

and the rest being nature's idea of a test of endurance-

for real: how much like a female orangutan can one man look?

(the males have those brazil nuts on the sides of their face, and i'm not about that life)

we're finding out a little more every day...

no, really, nature, thanks for the eight foot long arms- 

i mean, 

who wouldn't want world-record spaghetti-noodles sprouting from their shoulders?

and while i exercise so i don't blarp out, because i'm not gonna eat less cake, bro.

it's not like i'm body building, so i'm certainly not showing off.

i even color coordinate my clothes so i'll look like i give half of a sh!t-

on the ones, shouldn't your tattoo artist be paying attention to little details? 

....right??!

and while i'm maybe a little insecure about my perpetually unfortunate haircut situation,

that's more for professional appearances and maxxxmized income generation 

than general embarrassment at this ever-expanding scalp:hairline ratio.

you get what you get, you feel how you feel, you like what you like.

being shy isn't gonna get you anywhere.

i'll be at the studio all weekend, just like every weekend, just like every flippin' day.

i'm ready and willing to interact with any and everyone, 

and all of y'all are more than welcome to have a slice of cake with me.

let's talk about something,

let's talk about everything,

let's be open and honest and upfront and see where that takes us;

never quiet, never soft.....

RABBBBIT-RABBBBIT!!

the first words out of my mouth?
rabbit, rabbit!
yup.
obvi.
rules is rules.
and it's the first of the month, man;
which means that that's the first order of business,
no matter what.
you say the nmagic F*ing words, nerds,
or you risk bringing in the jinx.
and if you don't believe in jinxes,
then you kinda deserve all the jinxes you end up with, bro.
real talk.
but me?
i'm not tryin' to eff my own A* through neglect and dereliction, dudes.
no way.
so i said it, spoke, and spat, and sprayed the syllables into the sky,
summoning all the good vibes and positive energy
and fortunate flavorful fresh-to-deathness down from out of the secret universal aether,
so that i can bask and bathe and super-saturatedly soak in the bold gold
of a sorcerer's spell for success.
y'know?
ha!
*
ANYway,
it was thai thursday again.
...yeah.
it shows up, like, once a week which is kinda neat.
and this time,
even though i LOVE the spicy noods,
and would normally boil up a big ol' batch of those slippery suckers-
i went for a big action-activated buddha bowl instead.
check the teleport:

IT'S A GIANT BUCKET OF AWESOME!
no.
for real, though.
there's about a cup and a half of jasmine rice on the bottom.
that's good.
in a very hot pan, with a fat scoop of raw coconut oil,
i fried up half a sweet potato, cut into wedges,
until two out of three sides of each were browned.
that's good, too.
i toasted some cashews, for sexxxin' up the bowl at the end.
i even got out the red and green lettuce leaves,
shredded some purple cabbage,
sliced up cucumber and radish and purple carrot,
sliced into a jalapeno, some green onions, and lots of cilantro,
plus got the small leaves form some fresh basil,
all for spranklin',
and turned up the taste and the heat and the sweet to eleven.
and that was before i added the spinach, celery, onion, scallion tips, carrot, and peppers
to the sweet potatoes, and they all got fried up in the sriracha garlic ginger sauce, man.
mmmmmhmmmmm.
the sauce had it poppin'-
as most thai-style jauns in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress usually do-
-
*
SAUCE!
-
2 T sriracha;
2 T mae ploy;
1/2 tsp GPOP, ground coriander seed, dried ginger, dried basil, dried cilantro;
1/2" skin-on organic ginger bulb, minced;
3 cloves sliced garlic;
1 tsp sesame sossamon seeds;
2 tsp sesame oil;
2 T rice vinegar;
2 T tamari;
2 T lime juice.
when you've got a good sauce, you can't go wrong.
no need to measure the veggies.
just ask yourself: how hungry am i?
and then make a little bit MORE than that.
too much is the right amount, and that's the truth.
what else?
i'll tell you what else:
AVO-F*ING-CADO, neighbors!!!
yuuuuuuuppppppp.
that's how you doo-doo the really real doo-doo, dude.
yeah!
***********
any day in june, goon.
that's what i keep telling myself.
any day is the day.
and every day is the right day.
and today is the first one of 'em.
this is it.
it's still always all really happening,
with or without your consent, even.
the only real choice that matters is:
how invested and involved are you in the processes of your own life?
worthy warrior poets, and activated active participants,
are the only ones invited to my makeout parties, y'heard?
no spectators, passengers, procrastinators, or know-nothin'-do-nothin' poop butts.
i mean, c'mon-
i said: rabbit rabbit.
now lets's attract some excessively expert awesomess;
never quiet, never soft....

BYEBYE!!

i wouldn't call them open-face sandwiches.

no. 

because that's not exactly right, is it?

uh-uh.

hmm?

oh.

hey guys, i'm just thinking about last night's dinnertime hottness.

it had all the elements of excellence that i required after a long busy day.

there was bread and lots of vegetables, plenty of garlic,

and even a little baby bit of crushed red peppery sprankles.

yup.

all the things i wanted, i had on hand, and used with precision.

lucky me.

..and like i'm sayin', it was toast with stuff on it,

or as they call that around some parts: CROSTONE!

yeah.

crusty jauns for full-frontal facial flavorification!

yum.

check the teleport:

see?

allll the things.

homemade pan-toasted sprouted wheat sourdough bread on the bottom,

with exxxtra-virgin olive oil, on a bed of arugula.

good bread makes better people, 

and bitter greens make life sweeter.

that's real.

there's wilted baby spinach by the blopful-

green bunches of earthy goodness, heated up to maxxximize the nutrient accessibility.

...that's real.

seared sauteed baby bella mushrooms?

F* yes. thick, meaty mycos, with a little pink salt, 

and just a touch of Garlic Powder and Onion Powder to activate more big mama umami.

tight.

fried garlic sliver spranks keep it crunchy, crisp, and molto tasty,

and keep the vampires out of the equation, too.

that's one full clove per slice of bread, kids.

dudes!

caramelized shallots?!?!

too much is the right amount, and that's no joke.

LOOK closer, please:

F*ing right.

blackened tomatoes are always better than bullsh!t raw ones.

for realsies.

and that's why i char 'em every time.

who wants worse tomatoes?

only an A*-hole would entertain that idea,

and that ain't me.

a little teeny baby coupla craxxx of fresh black pepper,

and these bad boys were ready to devour.

what?

well, yeah, of course i drizzled the garlic oil on top.

OBVI.

i'm not some amateur hour idiot, neighbors.

jeez.

take it easy.

simple? kinda.

awesome? definitely.

gone in a flash? shark-gluttonously.

that's kind of the thing about your infinite nature-

you are who you are,

and you do what you do.

you get a choice, naturally, but really, the choice is shaped by your bias,

which is in place from experience.

dominoes, bro.

one in front of another, a sequential series of overlapping interlocking events

that form the basis of your behavior.

you don't think that's real?

ok.

that's cool.

good luck with that line of thinking.

***********

a month ago,

alcoholism took my girlfriend right out of my life.

she didn't die or anything, but she's still gone af.

three and a half weeks ago, my ol' man actually kicked the bucket,

and his life was truncated by drugs and alcohol, too.

damn.

may was NOT the merry month it was made out to be at the onset,

but,

it all really happened,

and i learned a bunch about myself, my affection and my attachments,

and my obligations,

and my capacity to both love and hate.

that's a lot to look at within yourself,

and it took a bit for that to stop kicking my A*.

however,

as june looms on the horizon, 

and the imminent arrival of summertime's big, hot, deluxxxe dopeness hangs out

within a hand's breadth of reach-

well,

i'm wondering what the new NEW hottness is gonna be made out of

while i doo-doo all the freaky sh!t that summertime's busy business brings to the area.

opportunity is all around me,

and encumberances are precious few at the moment.

i've got crabtree, of course, but he's my downtown walkaround homeboy,

even if the walking and homeboy parts are negotiable minute to minute.

unlike these splay-toed fried-toad turds around here,

i've got the ✖straight edge✖,

and i've still got that P.M.A.

i'm keeping my composure,

i'm keeping busy at AMPERSAND TATTOO,

and i'm keeping it really real in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress test kitchen, as well.

there's always so much to do,

so there's nothing for it, but to do it.

this is What Is at this moment,

and i'm pretty grateful for this path i'm traveling;

never quiet, never soft.....

HURRICANE TORTILLA!

i know, man-
y'all're tired of taco tuesday already.
i mean, we're almost six months into the year,
and tacos still keep poppin' off every week....
well, i dunno what to tell you, besides:
rules is rules,
and too much is the right amount.
so if you're looking for less tacos, you've come to the wrong place.
that's no joke.
i loooove taco tuesday;
y'feel me?
no, no, NO- you aren't getting it.
on the ones i, like, love-love it.
it's the most effective way to get full af that i can think of.
i don't even have to think that hard, after a day of tattblasting.
i just come home to those soft flour flaps,
and fill 'em with fuego for my fat F*ing face.
that's real.
check the teleport:

do you get as psyched for good food as i do ?
i'm sayin'-
on the ones, do you even know what the eff i'm talking about?
do you sing while you cook?
do you swear and talk to yourself about how filthy
you're about to get on a plate of all that hottness?
because i doo-doo that every tuesday.
i get turbo-PSYCHED to sit down and terrorize a plate of sexxxy-lookin' sustenance.
i might even do a little dancey-dance while i fold and tuck those tortillas
as fast as i can bite and swallow 'em into my head, neighbors.
yup.
i love that they're their own foldable plates that you can eat.
that's tight.
and i love that i didn't even pretend to give a sh!t about process this time.
nope.
not even one tiny little bit.
i had two pans out-
one with olive oil, smoked hot paprika, and tofu getting crispy, spicy, and smoky.
the other had a handful of black beans,
jalapeno, poblano, red onion, and spices-
which spices?
chipotle pepper, GPOP, black pepper, coriander, cumin, and oregano-
plus ho'sauce and a drop of liquid smoke to freak it off some more.
how easy is that?!?
mmmhmmmm.
and,
i still had some of that custom boomfuego habanero fire-roasted tomato salsa, too,
which activated even hotter, bigger, better flavor.
i couldn't have been happier to eat these little jam-packed jauns.
and there's lettuce, crawnchy purple carrot, radish, red onion, scallion,
and cilantro sprankles.
that's what's good.
but then, to guarantee a level eleven supercharge of the local taco scene,
there's lime and AVO-F*ING-CADO, too, bro.
WOOOOOOORD.
if your tacos aren't soft flour, you're wrong.
if they aren't so full that the stuffing is overflowing, you're wrong.
if they don't have crunch and squish and spice, you're wrong.
rules is rules,
and at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
taco tuesday issues edicts and decrees on the regular.
***********
shoutouts to my dudes!
no, f'real.
i'm very lucky to have the kinds of clients and friends and client/friends who come around
and span time at AMPERSAND TATTOO.
i'm not kidding around-
sharing space with people who can keep up and come around
and engage in competent capable conversation is my favorite part of every day.
(besides the food, of course)
spanning time with folks i like to talk to,
who get the jokes,
who keep pace,
and keep coming back is the most encouraging and positively reinforcing interactive
participation that recharges my warrior poetry in motion the most.
i'm grateful for these folks.
i'm serious.
every single day is an important experience,
and very little time is wasted,
and none of it is frivolously thrown away getting wasted.
it's intentional inventiveness,
introspective intuitiveness,
and appreciative activation.
it's all really happening,
but i'm just one little bitty bit of it.
it doesn't work without everybody else-
i still do what i do, but doing it all alone isn't gonna get it done better.
...and better is better, buddy.
i've got thanks on top of thanks for my people.
without 'em, the whole thing would be way lamer;
never quiet, never soft.....

PIZZA PARTY!

dudes,
i might be a little bit gross...
yesterday,
we ordered a pizza, but delivery was gonna take FORever-
so while we waited, we picked up a whole other 'nother pizza,
from a clearly superior pizza place down the street.
that's a pizza appetizer before the pizza arrived.
that's a lot of pizza in an hour.
but then,
because memorial day is synonymous with grilled meats and big drinkies,
and that's 100% NOT my thing,
i went hard on mexican monday while still keeping it really real with
some savage stormswept raging gypsy berserker pizza party hottness.
yuuuuup!
no brewskis, no grills, just me, my homie dylan,
some homemade semi-semolina dough,
and a full-force push to consume MORE pizza.
ha.
too much is the right amount,
and once the pizza gates are flung wide open,
it's pretty flippin' hard not to turn it up to eleven.
check the teleport:

PEE EYE ZEE ZEE AYY!
the third pizza was the charm, neighbors.
far and away the best of the bunch,
and with all that nacho-taco-mexico-exxxplosivo on top,
we had ourselves a F*ing feast.
like, do you see how much good stuff is on that big mutha??
c'mon, man- anybody can make a regular pizza,
but to make a magnificent masterpiece like this, after two other pizzas,
with fullness doing it's damnedest to derail my appetite's creative surges?
that's where being expert at shark-gluttony really has a chance to shine through.
if i wasn't an elite vegan overindulgence operator, i might not have pulled it off.
lucky for us, i'm not ever trying to bring the weak volume to the party.
nope.
only loud, fresh, hardness for your F*ing FACE!
word.
the dough was fast and dirty-
-
* 
FAST PIZZA
-
turn your oven up to 480℉
-
in your upright stand-up stand mixer, combine:
1 cup semolina flour;
1 cup a.p. flour;
3 T olive oil;
1 1/2 tsp salt;
1 pkg fast-actin' yeast;
2/3 cup warm water, w/ 1 tsp bread-machine yeast stirred in;
2 tsp sugar.
knead it for ten minutes, until it's smooth and shiny and tight.
let it rise while the oven preheats-
they should be ready at about the same time.
-
*
i made some ho'sauce and nootch-boosted refried beans.
that was our foundation layer.
15 oz of fat free pinto mash,
and a little onion, GPOP, a fistful of nootch, and a few glugs of ho'sauce.
it's SO easy to make turbo-dope refritas, i dunno why anybody would leave 'em as-is.
that's lazy, and that's not invited.
guys,
there's poblano, jalapeno, and sweet lil baby jauns on there-
plus tomatoes,
and black beans,
and red onions,
and fried garlic sprankles, obvi.
(rules is rules)
and that's just all that went on BEFORE baking.
there were also scoops of habanero fire-roasted tomato salsa, too.
from scratch, naturally.
mmhmmm.
after that, the real MVPs showed up to claim the title-
scallions, and cilantro,
and AVO-F*ING-CADO, bro.
that's IT.
real mo-fo's do real sh!t,
and nothing is realer than triple threat pizza party time.
believe it.
THREE PIZZAS  in three hours.
that's how we doo-doo that freaky-dikiness around here.
***********
the wolf moon magic is here, man.
i feel it.
today should be some kind of amazing.
after all,
the wild animal magnetism is at an all-time high,
and the summer is sorta underway, too.
i've got tattoos and tacos and terrier-time to instigate,
and ideas to investigate,
and punk-A* drunks to castigate,
and it's all really happening,
so i guess i'll just wrap this up and get to it;
never quiet, never soft.....

MEMORIAL DAY

once again,
i can feel the pull of the full moon in my heartbeat.
the ultramagnetized iron-filled hydraulic blood-pressure cooker,
pulsing and pumping the lava-spit-piss-and-vinegary vitriol
from the hot and fiery furnace deep in my body,
being whorled in a maelstrom of devious dervish spins and turns,
at breakneck velocity, to the surface of my skin,
so that today is going to be some kind of experience for myself and those around me.
y'know?
i mean, yeah, man-
some folks believe that the fullest moons have a lunatic lure,
drawing out the battle-beastly werewolfen mercurial mien in snarls and sneers
and red-tinged rictus
for those few days a month when the blue light is bounced back
from the solid circle in the sky.
maybe that's a thing. it could be a thing.  ...it for sure feels like a thing.
wild wolfman warrior poetry,
written during this doused, drenched, and draggled holiday weekend,
where the whole spot is packed and stacked with people from away,
clogging the arteries of the entire town
with cars and carriages and rudimentary manners at best-
it's ALL really happening.
today is the day, though.
anybody who hasn't left yet will be out and off and on their way this morning.
and we'll have our town back again until next weekend-
i'm only marginally affected by the influx of F*s over the summer.
after all, i don't go anywhere.
the slight inconvenience of longer lines at the grocery store and at the coffee shop
isn't enough to bring me down that much, since my social interactions are limited
by design in all spaces save AMPERSAND TATTOO.
...and really,
that's my place, so if werewolfing is what i'm dong when i'm there?
then that must be part of the charter, bro.
rules is rules.
-
we are what we do, right?
far more than what we think, our actions define us.
thinking good thoughts but still being destructive, even self-destructive,
is going to paint a truer picture than any words could.
good intentions and wrong actions cancel out.
y'wanna be a wild, roaming wolf-skin berserker?
alright.
but you'd better be aiming yourself in a positive direction,
and battling against something sh!ttier than just your own demons, y'feel me?
we ALL get a choice, neighbors.
it's not as if the full moon is a surprise- it's a timeline that follows a pattern,
and patterns can be predicted and anticipated and acted upon accordingly.
if i'm going to shed my skin, it'll be to renew myself,
not to diminish myself.
real talk.
i'll be at work today, just like every day,
doing SOMEthing worthwhile, and counting down to the bright bright bright nighttiime
where the firmament is illuminated and i can see clearly where i'm headed.
*
oh.
did i lose you up there?
bummer.
ANYway,
i made some breakfast muffins.
nothing crazy.
just your classic yumum morning magic for my face.
uh-huh.
blueberry lemon jauns, actually.
because lemons are for sourpusses,
and a set of ferocious bloobs seems to be the standing order these days.
...yikes.
no? oh, c'mon.
teleport:

MMMMMMMM.
here's all the steps, in order:
-
*
BLOOOOBERS AND CITRON!
-
preheat the oven to 361℉ (sike. 350 is fine)
-
in a medium mixing bowl, cream together:
3/4 cup brown sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
1/2 tsp salt;
3/4 tsp lemon extract;
1 stick (8T) vegan butts.
-
mix well,
and sift in:
2 1/4 cups flour;
1/4 cup tapioca flour;
zest of 1 lemon;
1 1/4 cups frozen maine-style wild bloobs;
1 tsp ea. bakin' powpow and soda;
stir in 2/3 cup non-dairy yogurt,
and 2/3 cup non-dairy milk,
AND 3 T lemon juice.
-
mix well,
and add to greased muffin tins,
i had small-small and small-medium sizes, and this made 48 total.
baked for about half an hour, you'll have spongy, soft, sweet, tart,
tangy little bitty bites of miniature supersexxxy morning glory,
and you will NOT regret it...
***********
i could stay home today.
hold on- i'm the boss.
i could stay home a lot of days-
but i won't.
instead,
the studio is gonna get a HARD once-over,
and i'll be taking walk-ins as they walk in.
staying home sucks balls, y'all-
i don't get nearly enough of a return on yard work
to climb into the overgrown shrubbery and start snipping.
this house is haunted,
but by the spirit and memory of it's current owner.
if it LOOKS the part, it'll serve to keep away the curious,
and leave my bullheaded bull terrier and i to ourselves.
we've got howling to do,
we've got prowling to do,
we've got befouling to do.
it's happening, and by tomorrow, when the moon is ALL the way full,
we'll be gnashing, smashing, and slashing our way from dusk til dawn,
and we'll arrive at daybreak as a couple of new and improved dudes.
this is it, and that's all there is to it;
never quiet, never soft.....

WISDOM

one time,
my dearly departed uncle ed roasted this enraged party-pooper
who'd been tirading around in full-blown tell-off-mode,
and shut 'er down like he was a F*ing crown prince dropping a decree...
nobody likes a ruiner,
and the soiree was decidedly uncomfortable with one loud bummer spouting their sh!t.
so, after bearing with the increasing swell of bluster and blather,
(alcohol-enhanced outrage is really not a good look)
when the hurricane force lambaste finally reached his section of the yard,
he calmly replied:
'alright, dear, you have received much too much attention,
and you will receive NO more'....
boom. mic drop.
and then he turned around and resumed his previous conversation,
ignoring the stunned silence behind him-
and the poopy-partypants stood there for a second, mouth open,
and then LEFT the event.
it remains one of the coolest things i have ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
sure, the response was impressive,
but it was the actual languid heavy-lidded look of indifferent condescension that
the line was delivered with that blew my mind off of it's hinges.
he said it, and what's way better is, he meant it.
'...you will receive NO more.'
damn.
that's expert AF, bro.
admittedly, he was kind of a pompous A*-hole,
but in that moment, he was exactly the perfect pompous A*-hole.
i'm glad i remembered that.
it's a life lesson, man...and i'm learning something.
***********
ANYway,
i haven't exactly been sleeping much.
and when i'm up early, and there's nothing going on, i do what i do.
and what i do is bake some treats.
dudes, check it:

COFFEE CUPCAKES, WITH MOCHA FROSTING!!!!
gold glitter sparkle sugar sprankles?!
F* yeah!!!
i'm celebrating, neighbors.
what?
my dudes michael and kim just got hitched.
my old friend anna's berfday is today.
it's memorial day weekend.
those are things are all good reasons for cupcakes,
but, then again,
any reason, or even no reason, still calls for cupcakes.
they're a great idea all by themselves.
and here's what i did to make them a reality:
-
*
MOCHAKES!
-
preheat your oven to 350℉
-
in your upstanding upright mixer,
moosh up:
8 T vegan butts;
1 1/4 cups raw sugar;
2 tsp coffee extract;
4 T instant coffee;
2 tsp vanilla;
2/3 cup non-dairy yogurt;
1/2 tsp salt.
whip it well, and whisk in:
1 cup non-dairy milk....
next, add the dry stuff:
3 cups flour;
2 tsp bakey powder;
1 tsp baking soda;
4 T tapioca flour;
1 T ground coffee beans.
mix that on high speed until it's fluffy like clouds,
and dispense it into little cups in little pans,
and bake them for 30ish minutes, or until they look done-
you should have two dozen, if you'e done it right.
-
then, when they're cool (and by that i mean, to the touch, because they're cool already)
y'gotta frost 'em-
-
1 stick vegan butter;
3 cups powdered sugar;
1/3 cup non-dairy milk;
1 tsp coffee extract;
3 T cocoa;
2 T instant coffee;
1 tsp vanilla;
whip whip whip whip whip it up, and squeeze it out, and make them awesome.
and if you HAVE spranks,
don't be dumb, and don't get cheap, and make the magic happen.
rules is rules, and glittery sparkle magic is on the do-do list.
word.
***********
attention, attention, and attention-
i'll gladly pay it, but only to worthy causes.
otherwise,
like uncle ed said:
you will receive NO more;
never quiet, never soft.....

INTERACT

my relationship with crabtree is tough, but it's also predictable.
what?
oh.
crabtree is my totally terrible bull terrier shark-bullet-
appetite and velocity are his primary attributes,
but recalcitrance and hindrance are what he minored in at doggy daycare-
now, i've always considered myself a dog person-
singular.
A dog person.
one person; and just one dog.
and while there are lots and lots of dogs in this world,
honestly, i don't give a single sh!t about most of them-
but,
crabby is my dude.
and he is also a wriggling, unwrangleable handful of hot fire and greased lightning.
here's the thing-
all he wants is simple- all my attention all the time;
if we could just go around smelling and urinating on things,
in-between walking to, and sitting down in, dirty, smelly places
that look like they could use a good splash of pee, then he'd be the best dog ever.
unfortunately,
i have other ambitions that interfere with aimless effluvial evacuation.
that's where the difficulties arise.
it's awfully had to convince this battle-beast that where i want us to walk is superior
and a priority, relative to the something-gross-that-might-kill-me he'd prefer to investigate.
it makes our walks more like running streetfights,
and it makes our bachelor-style home life more like a boxing gym.
lucky me, right?
weirdly, though- as much as he doesn't give a single eff about what i care about,
he still wants all my focus to be on acknowledging him.
guys,
i think i've got a deafer, more physically-impressive canine version of myself.
it's conflict and affection,
resistance and stubborness and general inflexibility,
coupled with weird looks and insistent contact.......
i may be learning a lesson here-
i just hope it's not my initial takeaway, which is:
we are both terrible, and we deserve each other.
-
i've had plenty of time to think about this over the last few weeks,
as he and i span time almost exclusively with one another.
he's much improved for the lack of company, save the strangers who accost us on the streets.
uh-huh.
we walk, we drive, we sleep, we eat together.
he and i.
i'm excited for my closest people, as they have partners, practices, parties, or whatever
to occupy their time-
and while i'm not disappointed that what i've got instead if this damned dumb dog,
it does get tedious exclusively attending to a non-reciprocating companion.
wait.
that's basically what i was doing before, with my human partners.
only, the dog is far, far less hesitant to display his genitalia.
ugh.
still, that's concerning, no?
and it means that i probably i gotta do something different.
otherwise, what's gonna change, right?
word.
that's what's up.
me and my milky boi (that's crab) had better interject some new hottness into
our world, ourselves, our tag-team title run,
and the interactive interface between us and you.
it starts today.
right now.
or, as soon as he wakes back up, anyway.
so keep an eye out for us-
and keep your toes on their tips,
because we just might both pee on you to claim you as ours;
never quiet, never soft.....