goodbye again.

duders,
another 'nother month,
over and done with,
finished up,
kaput,
and out the door.
awwwwwwwww,
i wish i could say i'm sorry to see it go,
but i've had just about all the november i can handle.
that's no lie.
it's been thirty days of night, neighbors.
as in,
the bleakest and blackest batch of neverending dark spots,
even by the light of that ever-lovin' werewolfen moon above my head.
and now even that's waning,
and washing it's pale blue beams down in a less-intense activational berserker mode.
so it's proper fitting that the whole dang page of the calendar is ready to get flipped as well.
thanks for nothing, november.
***********
just so we're all on the same page:
getting divorced is bad enough,
but wallowing in the weakest sauce of indifference is even worse.
there's not even anything to fight about.
i mean,
fighting is for affecting outcomes, and effective affections, and resolution, ultimately.
but nowadays, when all the truth comes all the way out?
yeah.
there's just not anything to fight for anymore.
yuck.
...that's pretty busted,
and it's somehow still limping along on it's last lonely wobbling leg.
true stories are all i've got, guys.
it's all really happening,
incredibly,
above and beyond the sell-by date stamped on the inside heartside hearth
of the woodsly goodness' spirits and memories of What Is.
harder styles than ever,
and no news, good or otherwise to report.
F* off november,
and make room for an even darker december.
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
whole entire holidays and wholly unholy hellhole holedays.
taking it to XI-mas, my ninjas,
sooner than you think,
farther away then you'd like,
and for longer than you can stand;
never quiet, never soft.....

cranberries are bitter...

...but a pound of sugar is sweet.
duders,
you didn't think i'd let dessert escape my attentions, did you?
c'mon.
if i'm having people over to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
i'm definitely going to get busy on the good host-type sh!t.
i'm repping that gratitude and generosity jauns like a capably competent,
appreciative, lightning-striking viking lord of luscious housewarmed entertainment.
if you're ever invited to the castle, you will get some treats.
prepare yourselves ahead of time.
this time i had some new arrivals in the house.
ben and sabrina finally made it past the battlements,
and visited with the high society soldiers of active participation for a little minute.
yuuup.
and that meant there needed to be some kind of celebratory hottness for our faces-
check the teleport:

cranberry-apple brown-sugar blops, my ninjas.
because i'm like that.
whilst i was preparing my epic cauldron of dinnertime goodness,
i spared a second or two to whip up a little something more.
...of course i did, the whole object is more after all.
and while i can tell you truthfully that i baked it as hard and as hot as i could,
it somehow reactivated some kind of super-syrup that soaked
and saturated every single thing but the oaty streusel shell top.
that's right, neighbors.
it was hard as a crisp coconut-nutrient-enriched cookie on top,
but the inside was pure mud blarpitude.
oh, don't worry,
it was completely de-F*-ing-licious despite the pink tar pit bubbling within it's heart.
real talk.
*
what does the inside of a mountainous heroic vegetable medley melee look like?
teleport:

it looks like the guts of a giant bog monster, apparently.
brown 'sgustingness, with the flavor of undiluted heavenly glory, though, yo.
i mean,
there's two cups of gravy drizzled all over all the other other stuff in that burly bucket.
it's so big, and it holds so much food, kids.
all the little cubes of simmered down, sauteed, oven-roasted and broiled up bits.
and peas.
those green dots are kind of an 'as is' addition to the expert one-pot feast scenario.
without 'em, though, it just isn't pot pie.
the crusty was flaky and all that sort of thing;
the cabbage wasn't farty, the carrots weren't too hard;
the potatoes had the perfect level of broiler brown added in to their slow-roasted
post-parboil whole-clove garlic seasoned taste combination;
the celery and onions were sweet, the mushrooms meaty;
and the whole thing had the exactly appropriate amount of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
we made time,
i made magic,
we all spanned and experienced both together.
sometimes,
spending a day at the range-top is the only way to ameliorate the angst and anxiety
of keeping it so flippin' redlined-at-eleven really real all of the dang time.
awwwwwwwwwww.
i cook, neighbors.
it's kind of my thing, y'heard?
just sayin'-
in order to exist we need to eat,
in order to exist well, we need to eat well.
i'm prepared to prepare day-long processes for minutes long gluttony.
i'm ready and willing and able to overactivate and complicate all the hardest styles.
i want that super-fancy unnecessary jauns.
i am what i eat, i guess.
a disgusting brown blop with so much secret flavor.
you know the line:
be ugly, but be dope.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

and out come the wolves

full moon?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
neighbors,
the activation society is on it's way over here.
that's right.
all the duders are headed to the headquarters of the horses' hind-end-quarters.
wherever we are, that's the place to be-
a.k.a. the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
we're getting it together for dinner time hang outs an' that.
and we're prepared to get so EXPERT on this evening,
with hearty heartfelt hang-outs and real-time high definition participation
in actual fully-mooned-up events
as they unfold from the furnaces of fresh, loud hardness.
for realsies-
nothing beats being back in the woodsly goodness,
surrounded by good peoples,
terrorizing a hefty honkin' slice of something dope.
that's a thing.
tonight is the night.
check the teleport:

that's a POT of pie, ninjas.
it's got all the vegetables, too, and a quart of gravy.
believe that.
wu-TANG!!!
i made the crust dope, too:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
that's hearts an' that.
awwwwwwwww.
i love vegan treats, mutha-b!tches.
and i love sharing them with worthy give-a-damn-type duders.
it's all really happening,
under the blue glow of a fully engorged super-circle of skyshine night light.
more of this-
that's all there ever is;
never quiet, never soft.....7x40+1

get your hair did.

neighbors,
what's really hood?
this:

yuuuuuuuuuup.
fresh ones barber shop.
straight up gangster, y'all.
don't get it confused with flava in ya hair, either.
new haven, connecticut, get's it poppin'.
if you don't know?
now you know, ninja;
never quiet, never soft.....

B.F.D.

breakfast for dinner, duders.
we doo-doo that flipmode sh!t.
y'wanna know why?
because we're experts.
and that's not for jokes, jerks.
check the inverted mealtimeline teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
we got those chocolatey chips stuffed up inside of some double-buttery-style
baller-A* man-sized panniecakes!
yeah!
with cranberry activational compote sauce,
and maple syrup,
and some super-fresh hottness and baconish-stripped-out tofu scramble jauns?
believe it.
we're the kind of hard-style heroes who know how to get rad with our food.
uh-huh.
nothing says just be dope like a big manly pan full of fake eggs.
teleport:

simmering in it's own spicy nutrients,
including the nootch, neighbors-
(yeah, cucchie, i'll give it to you...delicious)
*
it's harvest and maple's last night in town for a while.
awwwwwwwww, man!
remember, y'all-
it's always important to appreciate the time we've spanned together, y'heard?
yep.
because it's all really happening, even when it seems like it's stopping.
ninjas,
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is soaking in the last reverent remnants
of epic active participation and professional warrior poetry.
tonight is the night.
and we're slaking our thirst for family funtimes by the shark-gluttonous mouthful.
***********
spoiler alert, mutha-b!tches:

yes, indeed, kids.
those ARE cinnamon buns proofing in my fridge until tomorrow morning.
parting is gonna actually be sweet as well as sorrowful.
we'll be filling the trunk,
filling our faces,
filling the tank,
and emptying out of the woodsly goodness.
connecticut is calling to us,
like a soul-sucking hard-hearted siren,
waiting for us to wreck on the nutmeg state line.
we're ready for that,
and we'll be singing out loud to our own soundtrack instead.
get ready, or not, but here we come;
never quiet, never soft.....

ballout?

we had a half-black saturday, duders.
as well as a half day of work,
as well as a doubled-down dose of consumer shopping spree activation.
it's a vacation outlet tax-free shopping village kind of woodsly goodness up here,
and we'd be dumb-dumb stoopidheads not to take advantage
of the opportunities that present themselves for wholesale greed, avarice,
and dragonesque hoarding of fresh new gear and treats and presents an' that.
now, if you've met 'em, you already know this:
my daughters are dope, bright, shining stars in my perpetually dim skies,
and therefore deserving of all the very best new hottness and rad sh!t
that my hard(ish) earned dollars can buy for them;
that said-
it's not like they contribute any kind of alms for my rapidly emptying wallet.
that means i'm funneling downward whilst supplying their whims
with worthy warrior spirited genie-like wish fulfillment.
awwwww, man.
neighbors,
even when prices are low, the stakes are flippin' high.
those movie checks don't come for free, y'heard?
but,
when it's time to get berserker with our budget,
and go completely bananarama batsh!t crazy?
uh-huh.
we doo-doo that all-out ball-out all-american retail bonanza blitzkrieg jauns.
we got layers and layers of loud, fresh hardness,
and warm hats and accessories, not to mention a second full set of stores after work.
i don't cry poor, kids,
i cry havoc and let loose with the fenris fury on all these mongers and mutha-lickers.
yeah!
add in a little hot cocoa on either end of the experience,
and we find ourselves spent-up, penniless, and richer for our poorer pockets.
that's no joke.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is full of XI-mas activation,
more than a whole month early.
so while we may not have a tree to trim,
we've sure got plenty of seasonally appropriate, site-specific superiority of spirit
to dispense amongst the haters and waiters and naysayers
who just can't seem to get busy with our big business.
it's the way we are,
and that's the way it is;
never quiet, never soft.....

paint it black.

black friday?
black every day.
we stay black, y'all.
true story.
*
neighbors,
we might've gotten a little baby bit expert last night.
that's no jokes.
what's the likelihood of hot fire, all over again?
100%, mutha-'uckers!
you know that we only ever want more.
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuup:

c'mon!
it's the only way to close out a Perfect Fall Day.
fact.
we combust a move, friends,
because we know how to experience the greatness of the woodsly goodness.
sitting and talking and spanning time as sentimental soldiers of infinite nature.
it's Folk Life & Liberty,
and it's just the way it is.
***********
today is a shopping, spending, amassing massive mountains of madness kind of day.
that's my kind of day.
if you're repping that waterbabyish weak-sauce buy-nothing bullsh!t,
well,
you're definitely doing it wrong.
consume, ninjas.
like, NOW, an' that.
today is the day.

black(hearted) friday.
black(beard the pirate) friday.
black(strap molasses) friday.
black(panthers) friday.
black(gold) friday.
that's the ticket-
stay black,
stay gold;
never quiet, never soft.....

we three.

duders,
ma and my sassy little seedlings got molto expert in the kitchen.
we prepared a veritable cornucopia of vegetable-based barbarian brown blops
into a monster-sized feast of thanksgiving,
one well worthy of the warrior poetry and chef's tables within the hallowed halls
of vegan valhalla.
that's right, neighbors.
we doo-doo that brutal over-the-top activation.
three people and enough food for thirty?
uh-huh.
too much is the right amount.
haven't you been paying attention at all?
don't be dumb.
we took it to eleven-
check the shark-gluttonous teleport:

c'mon!
that's a whole lot of super-fancy action in one place.
harvest and maple aided and abetted all the different delights we delivered to our faces.
for realsies,
left alone with each other, we interact and overreact and exact and extract
a helluva hefty heaping helping of helping each other out.
...weird.
we've got a new dynamic, my ninjas,
and without a wrench in the works, every choice we opted for was the right one.
yeah!
we get along and get it going on like a trio of triumphant titans,
dominating the landscape of the woodsly goodness.
F*ing right, y'all.
check the in-progress art shots of our epic meal times:

blue, orange, yellow, pink, green, and patted-down with butteryish squares of rad.
yup!
what's up with those elite turbo-fancy roasted vegetables, b!tchbags?
recognize-
we brought our A game, son.
how about super-sugary motherland-type sweet potatoes,
drizzled and sizzled and sprankled over
with all kinds of super-fresh flavor combinations?
teleport:

uh-huh.
maple syrup, brown sugar, smoked paprika, bacon-style bits, and carmelized shallots?
you know that we only do it loud, hard, and fresh, friends.
so stop drooling, and nod those heads in appreciative understanding.
wordimus prime.
ingredients in bowls is always sexy.
don't believe me?
shame on you:

mise-en-place, yo.
we doo-doo that preparation jauns.
mmmmmmmmm.
*
but waitaminit.....
what about dessert?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup:

two different types of autumnal expertism,
for our big fat sloppy F*ing faces!!
pumplestiltskin pie 2.0 was great,
but those harvest apple slumps were from the flippin' future.
that's a thing.
what is it?
it's apple filling, hardstyle freestyle homestyle,
with cakey batter on top of that,
with oatflour cinnamon coconut streusel on top of that.
it's a three-tired treat made out of pure folksy ingenuity...
and it is also the most amazing made up treat we've had in these parts for years.
yeah.
years.
i promise you- me and my scions of science are gonna rule the vegan dessert world.
soon.
***********
we got it popping family-style, kids.
with actual real-life kids, folks.
because we keep it really-real in this folk life, friends.
and we are the only friends that we have, y'all.

awwwwwwwwwwwwww.
but on the really-realsies, duders,
yesterday was NOT the worst day.
not even close.
i might actually venture so far as to say it was good. *gasp*
me and mine, mining for hearts of gold, and i'm growing old.
it was just what we all needed,
and we got exactly what we deserved.
i am grateful for the time i have been given,
and for the peoples i span it alongside.
i heard from a lot of my closest and bestest ones yesterday.
if i know you, and you know me back,
then you already know i'm thankful for you.
more of all this,
i'm ready, you're welcome;
never quiet, never soft.....

what's right is right.

and this is what's right:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
i'm thankful, neighbors;
never quiet, never soft.....

gratitude.

what goes great with family togetherness,
and effective affectionate active participation?
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
hot mutha-flippin' fire!

c'mon.
the heat being thrown off by the raging blazes of woodsly goodness
serves as a sentimental reminder about the remainder of these days.
no matter how bleak, black, cold, and empty the void appears,
somewhere,
there is a light that heats it all up and brightens even the deepest darkness.
teleport:

optimism?
uh-huh.
i mean, i've got kids up here, duders:

two hot fuego-a-go-go valkyries from the far flung reaches of the future.

harvest.

and maple.
two different kinds of super-expert activation,
made with love out of berserker barbarianism and scalding skaldic warrior poetry.
so go easy.
we gotta raise these little ladies right, alright?
so i'm setting a positive example with direct, dedicated, and determined deeds.
...be honest. be real. be dope. be worthy of the life you want...
all that kind of inspirational bullsh!t.
we make it happen, because we have to.
***********
i am grateful for the time i have been given, neighbors.
no lie.
i'm as surprised as you are,
all things considered,
but i'm thankful for the life i've got.
(if only because i sure as sh!t don't want anyone else's)
so that's what's up.
gratitude, y'all.
for each and every cavernous cavity of calamity;
all these long nights, hard times, and empty F*ing beds.
there is only ever more of this stuff,
and it keeps happening,
over and over and over and over.
it's been nine almost-interminable months of hopeless, loveless,
terribly temperamental mental and emotional disconnectedness an' that.
plus an overabundance of disconcerting indifference and drastic downward spirals.
like it or not,
ready or not,
it's all really happening.
but the worst is over.
instead of wallowing in the weak-sauce of divorce and despair,
we're wildin' out on some full-term nine-month neonatal bouncing baby barbaric savage
stormswept raging berserker battle-beastly gypsy hot fire feasting and fury.
it never stops.
the secret universal plan unfolds sevenfold for every perfect square that bisects
each and every concentric circle of spirit and memory.
there are echoes of everywhere and everywhen in the minutes that make up these moments,
because today is the sunovab!tching day, neighbors.
believe it.
so give thanks,
but there's only ever going to be more of all of this.
the burden gets heavier tomorrow,
so enjoy the weight of the world today,
because it's lighter than you think.

the dark is only as deep as your perception is shallow.
there is a light that never goes out.
happy thanksgiving, friends;
never quiet, never soft.....

pre-game/homecoming.

duders,
it's all really happening.
so much so,
i've hardly got a second to spare.
my daughters and i are busy bees,
getting busy with this holiday hottness.
to start the early cooking activation,
we took a mulligan on the previous dessert course, remeasured, adjusted, corrected,
and then baked up a brandy-spankin' new pumpkin pie.
expert?
uh-huh.
check the teleport:

yup.
when it's still wet, it's like magic custard blarpity blops-
but once it firms up with forty-five or so minutes of hot fire absorption?
thick slabs of pure dopeness for your face, F*er.
robobotron space bakers from the future!
that's what's up.
it's got the perfect blend of spices this time,
and a crackery sweet crust made from the dust of a dozen biscuits, b!tches.
our treats are built on the bodies of vanquished snack cookies.
we rep a hard style, what can i tell you?
*
we ran around all over town,
scoopling up a few last minute ingredients,
drinking on some warm hot cocoa,
simmering cranberries and cider to pectin-powerhousefuls of sauce!
neighbors,
we even had a fancy pre-holiday meal.
you read it here first.
just sayin',
i see no reason not to mark occasions with commemorative gourmet sh!t.
so we kept it lively and got folksy by the stove...
with what?
with mushrooms and other other beige foods, y'all.
teleport:

huh?
yep.
good eye.
that IS tri-color israeli couscous, because those A*holes rep a harder style.
that's a thing.
good company, good food, good times, good vibes, all that big action.
we doo-doo what we do, and that's all there is.
*
and i got a haircut.
because ugly mutha-'uckas gotta look fresh.
for realsies.
no better looking for the effort,
but my thin gray jauns are shorter now, and not just sparser.
old and busted and trying not to fall apart-
ummmm, yeah.
no such luck, sucker:

and what?
awwwwwwww.
me and my kids are keeping it easy, and taking it hard.
we may be minus-one for the holiday, and every holiday from now on,
but family togetherness is still on the menu, my ninjas.
we're repping a thankful state of being, all day long;
never quiet, never soft.....