it begins with sandwiches.

neighbors,
i done told y'all already-
it's sandwich week.
kaBOOM!!
i mean, c'mon,
what's the best way to begin a month?
eight days of stuffing all the stuff between bread.
obviously.
oh, wait, you're right.
good call, buddy.
it's the best way to get busy right after saying rabbit, rabbit
to ensure the earthy spirits and universal memory of our benevolently
indulgent woodsly goodfellows and waldengeists
watch out for us as we wreak wreck on the week's worth
of worthy 'wichcraft.
mmmhmmm.
*
sandwich week isn't limited to just meals, though.
nope.
i mean,
that'd be pretty weak sauce, wouldn't it?
yeah, i think so, too.
that's not a problem though.
i made cookies until february,
but today is the day, duders.
yep.
too much is the right amount-
and that just means MORE cookies,
but this time, double it, and make 'em even more expert.
woohoo!
check the overdose-of-overdoing-it-type teleport:

cookie sandwiches?!?!
don't be dumb.
it had to happen, and now it is, for your big fat hungry face.
blondie bloxxx,
straight-up straightforward light-brown sugar cookies,
stuffed with coffee creme frosting,
and marked with espresso icing X's, for exxtra excellence.
need more convincing?
for added turbo-hottness,
and super sweetness,
and fresh-to-deathwish doo-dooin' of that freaky sh!t,
there's an ol' dirty dusting of ground chocolate sprankles on top, too.
***********
today,
here in america,
and more specifically,
here in new england,
the stupid bowl is a really big deal.
like,
it is impossibly important to people who aren't going to gain anything
from it happening besides the potential bragging rights of living in an area
that identifies itself with the performance of people who actually play
professional american football,
(despite coming from almost anywhere BUT new england)
for a team that is within three hours of here.
yeah.
i know i'm not the only person to hate hard on sports.
i just get a little stomach sick looking at, and listening to,
my cashier at the supermarket, in her tight-fitting regulation jersey
(read as: SO fat)
while she and other similarly-attired turds keep talking about what
'we' need to do to take it all the way.
no, not the royal 'we'.
good guess, though...
it's 'we' as in-
the giant black linebackers that are identical in every way to grocery store clerks.
y'know. ...WE.
yikes.
well,
it's still a big deal, and even though i'm abstaining, as always-
it IS an excuse for the unimaginative to eat dead things covered in cheese,
while yelling along with other dudes, and worse,
authentically interested women,
at a television with zero chance of affecting the outcome displayed therein,
at a raging red-solo-cup-doucheparty,
or blue solo cups if you're pretending to be a bleeding-heart lefty liberal football fan,
excuse me while i scoff at your whole foods buffalo chicken wing platter.
it's a big deal.
bingeing out on sportsfanning gaytardation,
discussing the relative merits of commercials, at length,
and chugging plenty of alcohol in mind-obliterating quantities.
yeah.
people really like that.
a LOT.
ew.
it's just so gross to me.
i'm sure there are folks out there besides me who aren't watching the big game,
we just aren't hanging out with each other.
guys,
i just do what i do.
mostly,
that's make sandwiches,
talk sh!t about what everybody else likes,
bake cookies,
and be bitter about my own self-imposed isolation in the woods.
oh.
wait.
that got a little depressing towards the end there.
it's cool.
i think it's okay not to drink,
in fact,
it's even more than okay, it's expert.
i also recognize small percentage of the people i know who agree with me.
it's the number one no-no in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress-
no drinkies.
along with being a vegan household,
and a sports-free zone,
it's basically the best place i've ever been.
for sure, it's a little cold in here these days,
but that's part of the charm of this drafty old disasterpiece masterpiece.
this place i call home is a little refuge from everywhere else.
the last lonely house, a hermitage on a hill, and it's mine all mine all mine.
that's real.
today is the day,
not just the first,
not just the so-stupidbowl,
but also, it's another milemarker on the passage of time.
uh-huh.
i've been living all by my lonesome for two years, today,
and i'll tell you what-
it's not as bad as i thought it'd be.
that's probably good news, all things considered,
since i'm a hard-hearted hater of popular opinion,
and an even hotter harder bitter firespitter at most popular pastimes.
ergo, on a predictably short timeline,
ending up alone is likely a foregone conclusion.
time will tell,
or more accurately,
time will whistleblow on all my undesirable traits.
.....wow.
this little blog jauns got rough today.
...
jeez, february, take it slow. we just got here.
...
the truth is, and always will be, pretty flippin' definite though-
i like what i like,
and everything else can go die in a hole.
such happy happenstances as "fun" and other social distractions aren't invited.
there's no half-hearted half measures even halfway tolerated,
and no spectacular halftime show to rally the troops during, either.
this is all there is.
...
i should've stopped after bragging about those bangin' cookies, huh?
haha;
never quiet, never soft.....