a fresh ride.

duders,
i mostly don't care about cars.
that's no joke.
i don't place excessive value or status on what
kind of vehicle i'm currently cruising around it.
it's conveyance, mostly, and that's it.
sure,
some people geek out over fancy tricked-out,
geared-up, big, burly-engined performance machines.
me?
i mostly just hate walking in the elements.
ugh.
wind and rain can totally suck all the balls.
real talk.
that said,
after five hard-pounded years,
my car finally succumbed to my poor operating skills,
and sh!t the bed.
the car is dead,
long live the car.
teleport:

uh-huh.
brand spanking new hottness.
i GOT they.
my new car search involved just one thing-
seriously.
i showed up at the dealer with my old busted jauns,
pointed at that molto fresh-looking rig,
and just asked one essential determining question-
is this one expert?
and then i bought it.
no test drives;
no features and options explanations;
i didn't lift up the hood;
(i wouldn't know what i was looking at anyway)
no weak sauce back and forth haggle b!tchbaggery.
i said i wanted the dopeness,
they showed me the car,
and we made the magic happen.
the first time i sat in it,
i drove it off the lot.
really real mutha-'uckers be like that.
believe it.
ballin' out on big ticket purchases during the slowest season,
and during the holiday season,
and during the early-winter season?
neighbors,
i doo-doo that ill-advised up-here rich-type sh!t.
hahahaha.
stoopidheaded luxury activation is what i needed.
awwwwww,
sometimes,
being dumb is good for you.
i know, i know,
i mostly don't care about cars, still.
i definitely don't care about YOUR car.
that's for sh!t-sure.
***********
documenting these days, y'all.
because it's all really happening.
i've got harvest and maple here with me,
cruising around in our brand new conveyance,
keeping it rural,
keeping it real,
keeping it Folk Life & Liberated.
this is What Is,
and i'm pretty flippin' pleased to be a part of it;
never quiet, never soft.....

mexican monday.

hey duders-
sometimes,
y'gotta use all the pots.
y'know?
like,
one pot for rice,
and one pot for beansm
and one pot for heroic tempeh crumbled mexican magic.
neighbors,
it was burrito night at the Fortress,
and it was totally flippin' expert.
obvi.
and i'll tell you guys something else-
cilantro was the big action hero of the evening.
that's real.
i know,
some of y'all can't hang out with it,
but that's because you prefer your parsley styles to be weak.
that's okay if you're a delicate diaperbaby,
but, as a fully-formed and functional man,
i happen to take mine to eleven.
got it?
cilantro is just the next level of leafy garnishy goodness.
uh-huh.
anyway,
check the oven-toasted-type teleport:

Wu-TANG, amigos!
the tempeh had fresh tomatoes, and tomatillo, and sweet onion,
and chipotle ho' sauce, and smoked hot paprika,
a pinch or three of turmeric, jalapeno pepper,
salty soy sauce(for those ethnic fusion jauns?),
g.p.o.p. (duh) and a simmery broth to supersoak the whole thing
into a soft and succulent supple sloppy jose filling.
yuuuuuuup.
there was fancy rice for those fatty wraps, too.
y'know-
like,
with seeds and sh!t in it.
yep.
i seasoned it up with some spicy spices an' that,
because a bag of grains isn't good enough on it's own.
that's real.
oh,
and black beans made a special guest appearance,
simmered with all the bits and pieces you'd expect,
like 'matoes and spicy pep's and cilantro, and onion,
and a splash of fresh lime citrus juicy-juice
just to make sure we got all our nutrients involved in the process.
i expect a lot from my beans, kids.
no jokes.
all of that,
in a whole wheat circle of cultivated coincidence,
a punch of daiya(rrhea) fake chee',
a sprankle of cilantro (too much is the right amount),
and a couple of slivers of fresh cucumber,
to encumber the foldover procedure and add a degree of difficulty,
as well as an added layer of texture and temperature.....
hmmm?
oh, yes, indeed, i agree-
it had to have all of that inside,
AND outside,
AND around the plates,
so that the onslaught of overindulgent inundation
and extreme expertism was insurmountable.
it's always a food fight up in this b!tch, folks.
me versus good taste, good sense, and good manners.
and it always ends the same way...
because i only ever win by beating myself
what's that?
how'd they taste?
they were the best ones ever, man.
don't be dumb.
how couldn't they be,
especially when i activated that burnt roasty toasty crust
broiled with exposed flaming hot fire, directly onto 'em,
and with that striped red and green double-drizzle two-sauce bossiness?
accompanied with hot salsa on the side for tertiary flavor overload?
c'mon.
what are you?
some kind of an A*-hole?
hmmmm.
if you aren't 'bout that hottness,
you just might be.
real talk.
***********
road trip?
uh-huh.
bad weather?
most assuredly.
if i've gotta go get harvest and maple,
you'd better believe it will be a warrior roadway explosion.
rules is rules.
however,
for a whole extra other 'nother day of thankful givings
with two of the best dang daughters a man could wish for?
it'll all be well worth the raging traffic jammie-jams,
and tollbooth turmoil,
and savage sideswiping turn-signal disregard that
i'm bringing southbound with me.
today is the day.
a roundtrip journey,
a snow day,
and anything could happen-
after all,
it all always really is, anyway;
never quiet, never soft.....

bananas.

mmmm.
neighbors,
you know what i like, don'tcha?
yeah.
bakery-type treats.
they're just all so expert.
and i'm kind of all about that.
this time?
this time right now?
mmmhmmmm.
it's bananas.
yes.
bananas.
and walnuts and little bitty baby chocolate chips.
i get busy when i've got to,
and when it's this cold outside every damned day,
i want my oven going 'round the clock to make sure
that every extra little british thermal unit i can squeeze into the ambient
atmosphere of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is fully activated.
that's a thing.
piping hot,
and freshly sliced,
it's time to go bananas.
check the perfectly toasted-type teleport:

c'mon.
i make it look good,
and it tastes even flippin' better.
believe it.
these jauns go to eleven.
how do really real duders do breakfast?
fruit and nuts and chocolate and bread all at once,
in the same place at the same time an' that.
yuuuuuuuuup.
with a hot cuppa?
indeed.
i F*s with that super-hottness in my kitchen,
because it's super cold everywhere else.
that's it.
***********
i do what i do.
and i do it as hard as i can.
true stories, told truly,
for worthy woodsly goodfolk to enjoy.
there is always more of all of this;
never quiet, never soft.....

another one.

uh-huh.

ok.
maybe just one more.

teleport:

a death crab for cutie.

i've got a  few blue markers,

and i guess i should use 'em.
one more one shot slow day activation sketch.
neighbors,
i guess maybe i've just got something good going on?
could be;
never quiet, never soft.....

a good day for practicing.

neighbors,
i can't explain it,
but when i see a marker these days,
especially if it's a blunt-tipped, used-up,
flecked felt-tip sh!t-hot mess of a not-so-sharpie,
i gotta find some scraped-up, scribbled on surfaces
and make a mess on 'em.
yeah.
that's real.
it's just one of those things, i suppose.
i couldn't NEVER make any artsy pictures again,
could i?
yikes.
it sure seemed like it was likely for a bit, there, though.
hmmmm?
stop it.
that's not true.
maybe every once in a while i get a little bit activated.
check the teleport:

skulls and skulls and skulls.
that's a thing.
a tidal wavy neptune lich spirit?
yeah.
i guess so.
wait,
what's that now, duders?
oh,
don't worry about the extra colors of spent marker spit,
they're all still busted one-shot freestyle marky marks;
and these are even on twice-used crappy scrap papers...
but the idea is there, kids-
and it's a good idea....
y'know?
practice is never bad for you.
check the sexy-dead-bird-type teleport:

uh-huh.
what?
yeah,
i suppose i did get a little baby bit fresh,
and scrawl some extra essentials with a micron
all up inside of it's feathers and marrow or whatever.
so?
little details sometimes make a big difference.
usually.
maybe not so much right here.
but,
like i was saying-
practice makes perfect.
so getting into the habit of getting busier than busy can't be bad.
y'heard?
***********
it's eleven degrees,
and it's windy.
it's still windy, i mean.
ugh.
sucks all the balls, so hard.
what i wanna know is-
who invited this A*-hole weather to the party?
seriously,
i'd have prefer if it'd stayed home.
awwwwwwwwwwww.
there's no really warm feelings or even warm temperatures
in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress today.
it's just too cold, too soon,
and i got caught just a little teeny tiny bit off guard.
activation society members todd and beau both
spanned time and broke bread with me yesterday.
of course,
competent companions and active participants
all in one place is obviously expert.
but,
i was so busy eating treats and drawing skulls
that i never looked outside to see the snow magic
or the plummeting temperatures.
so now i'm shivering,
and that seems like all i've got to look forward to.
ah, well, friends-
if i'm gonna be cold and alone,
there's always more markers and up-cyclable papers
to keep me company,
and anything that doesn't end up being elite
will end up in the fire.
is that a win-win?
perhaps.
but it's decidedly better than a wind-win;
never quiet, never soft.....

supreme clientele.

duders,
my friends are better than yours,
and my clients?
well,
they know about some sh!t, too.
i mean it.
otherwise,
why would they make me the weird treats they do?
for realsies.
crystal got tattooed for four hours,
and stopped by the next day with something she made special
just for me.
teleport:

what.
the.
F*?
that's right, neighbors.
just for me.
jealous?
you should be.
one expert custom cut, chopped, dropped,
and mixed-up monster menagerie,
glued and gutted and pieced together out of basement toys.
that's rad.
i think i might cultivate exactly the kind of coincidences i need.
after all,
too much, too complicated, and overflowing with extras
is exactly the right amount.
lucky lucky.
**********
cold and windy, kids-
more of that is what's in store for the woodsly goodness.
i'm sketching out menus,
i'm sketching out plans,
i'm sketchy,
it seems in all the ways that aren't actually all that sketchy;
never quiet, never soft.....

thumbprints.

hey neighbors,
more treat pictures are headed towards your eyes right now.
i'm really almost sorry, sorta,
that it's been a bakery-activated
and sugar-filled weeklong adventure in oven-heated creativity.
i mean,
i could be doing all kinds of other other things,
but instead i'm getting fresh in front of that stovetop,
stirring sh!t up and mixing in secret ingredients.
yes.
it's all made up.
yes.
it's all from scratch.
yes.
i'm writing down what i do, so someday you can make this stuff too.
you're welcome.
*
buttery short-styled-bread cookie circles are what's up.
that's a thing.
i added oatmeal, and coconut, and brown sugar to mine,
just to take it to eleven,
and keep it expert,
at the same time.
my own unique thumbrint to make thumbprint cookies my own.
and it worked out pretty damned well, too, kids-
check the checkerboard-type teleport:

yuuuuuuup.
chocolate and peanut buttery powdered sugar and vanilla goobieblops,
custom-blended, and pressed into the divots,
just to activatea little bit more of the dopeness for your face.
and duders?
they're so flippin' good.
like,
melty and crunchy and gooey and buttery-ish and chewy.
all the textures, all the time.
hmmm?
oh, right-
don't even try to front like you DON'T like that double drizzle.
word up.
regular vanilla-style icing,
and a crosshatch of chocolate-type drizz' too.
expert means doing extra every single time.
that's it.
***********
it's snowing,
and snow magic is good for you.
big crocodile teardrops of billowy white flakes,
falling down so softly,
and coating every single thing in perfect silence.
shh.
if you listen closely,
the tiny tinkling sound of ice crystals clinking against each is other
is barely audible.
the littlest noise in the most muffled moments is deafening.
and it's delightful.
today is the day,
and it's a good day;
never quiet, never soft.....

concocting.

raspberries.
uh-huh.
it's a little late for fresh ones,
but that wasn't gonna stop me, kids.
that's right.
i needed to activate some treats-making hottness,
and i wasn't at all prepared to let a little frozen fruit
F* up a frozen day with it's preserved summery sexiness.
what i mean is,
the frozen raspberries i had worked just fine for what i had in mind.
that's real.
duders,
chocolate is good for you.
it therefore stands to reason that chocolate AND raspberries
are probably sort of an extra-superfood, right?
right.
i put them both together,
and they got completely expert right away.
go ahead,
check the teleport:

c'mon, c'mon, C'MON!!
crushed-up chocolate cookies, and melted butteryishness,
and a scoople of brownulated sugar bits and oat flour,
and a splash of vanilla makes a majestic crust, kids.
so good for all your minky little A*'s.
and your faceholes too, probably.
that's the stuff.
but,
what about that filling?
yuuuup.
raspberries, AND raspberry jam,
and chocolate-style chips,
and vanilla, and a couple different kinds of sugars and cocoa,
and all that sort of super sweet sh!t.
mmmhmmm.
it's the creamiest and the dreamiest
and the smoothest soft 'n' firm brown miracle
i've had in my mouth in ages.
at least,
it's surely the brownest one, at any rate.
hey-O!
neighbors-
i even used the same raspberry trick on the frosting!
...smart.
jam-boree jauns with red berry business,
in two-timing full-effect.
does that mean there's a duet of double blops
spread out in superfruity pink magic spellcasting?
it sure does.
too much is the right amount.
you know how it goes
***********
these days aren't the best ones,
but they're a damned sight better than the worst ones.
there are times being had,
and styles being hardened,
and wrenches being chosen,
and it's ALL really happening,
even as the flurries fly and the nights freeze over.
i'm grateful for the time and the space i've been given;
never quiet, never soft.....

mocha.

sweetened chocolate powder,
and cocoa,
and chocolate chips,
and chocolate syrup,
and instantaneously activated coffee time,
melted and meshed and melded all together,
in one big warm gooey fudgy pot of hottness,
and then baked into a big ol' brick of brownies.
yes, neighbors,
that's what happens when baking day rolls around.
what else would i do, really?
y'know?
it sure seems like i do some gooey chocolaty things with my oven.
yeah.
and just to make it a little itty bitty bit nicer to nosh my gnashers on,
i melted up a little custom saucy ganache-style treats drizzle,
and gilded the brown with even more brown.
expert?
indeed.
check the teleport:

c'mon!
i get really excited to eat all these treats, friends.
no foolin'.
the thing is,
i don't want to be a great big fat person.
blarping out is just not sexy,
and that's no joke.
so,
i'll have one sweet little rectangle for myself,
and i'll save the rest for all of y'all.
you win, i s'pose.
except that i still don't deliver,
so you'll have to stop by if you want a piece.
there's enough for everyone,
so don't be shy.
the Folk Life & Liberty Test Kitchen is cranking out,
some full-steam-ahead-type bakery jauns,
and i'm not gonna stop until i've assembled an armada
of awesome desserts to fill your bellies,
and make hole in your sweet teeth.
no.
stop.
you're gonna brush and floss.
i know.
it's okay.
***********
am i spending all my days off in the kitchen?
yeah.
i doo-doo that busy little homemaker-type sh!t.
well,
actually,
i just make a lot of stuff,
including a great big ol' mess.
uh-huh.
i get dirty,
and i spread out all my stuffs,
and i leave a trail of crumbs and chips and dust and debris.
i can't help it, kids.
it's the way i create.
there's a lot of collateral clutter involved.
sprawling spirals and expanding circles,
webs, almost, of tricky, sticky strands of spun sugar and spilt syrup
catching as catch can all the causes and effects and affectations
of spanning time as a really real life crafty hermit in the woodsly goodness.
yup.
it's what's happening.
every damn day.
there are things to show for all the intention and effort,
but they all get eaten up and pooped out eventually.
hard styles?
probably.
unavoidable?
inevitably;
never quiet, never soft.....

pasta rarely disappoints.

macaroni, duders.
word up.
it's just so flippin' good....
and when you pile on the fall vegetable hottness?
yeah.
it makes that specialty-type home cookin' extra good.
pasta autunno.
that's the seasonal opposite of pasta primavera.
smart?
you know it.
so,
then what's in the pot?
kale,
diced tomatoes with roasted garlic,
rosemary,
red onions,
potatoes,
butternut squash,
snow peas,
broccoli,
and brussels sprouts.
i GOT they.
that's it.
seasoned with g.p.o.p. and tons of freshly cracked black peps.
and just to be sure you could tell it's special,
i put some extra fancy 'ronis in there with it.
really.
check the teleport:

mmmmm.
delicious.

neighbors,
those happy noodles?
they are called creste di gallo!
sure,
they look like half-heart lasagna tubes,
but they're 'posed to be rooster top-combs!
cock's crests for your face!
hey-O!!
man,
macaroni people are so weird.
all those super-special different shapes?
i know they're all basically the same sh!t,
but i also love custom expert jauns.
y'know?
they just look like they taste better.
...and therefore they do.
that's real.
***********
it's so windy, y'all.
like,
raging gypsy stormswept natural fury,
blasting through the gaps in the rollings hills and mighty mountains,
from west to east,
bringing biting cold and brutal blinding bits of autumn across
the grounds and rounds about town and country.
seriously,
there's debris being blasted against everything,
the rustling and the whispering of a gentle breeze are far outdone
by the doomsday decibels of these roaring airwaves crashing around me.
it's good.
but only because i'm indoors where it's warm and still.
yep.
i still F*ing hate wind, kids.
forever and ever.
answers and war and change are all being wafted my way,
but i'm doing my best to avoid 'em all.
i'll just power down some leftover pasta,
and heat my insides with all those autumnal nutrients.
a better fate than windburn awaits me anywhere;
never quiet, never soft.....

sharp.

did you just say garbage art?
what?
really?
how can that even be a thing?
i thought that those days had been left far behind.
.......nope!
turns out,
there just wasn't the right combination
of trash and circumstance colliding to amount to anything.
awwwww.
i'd actually just forgotten that the whole point of it all
is to keep making so many somethings that the quantity
becomes an appreciable quality in and of itself.
i think that means there will have to be more.
neighbors-
that's a thing.
don't worry,
i've got my marky-markers,
and i make my markery marks.
seriously.
some wrinkled old busted cardboard
and a blunt worn-out black sharpie are all i need.
in fact,
that's actually all i even want.
y'all can keep all your fine arts,
and specific supplies,
but i like my sh!t to be just a little bit crustier.
check the coarse-art-type teleport:

c'mon.
devilish hellhammer basilisk-harpy-bat!
huh?
oh, for sure-
i am such a screaming nerd.
still,
it felt sort of good to make some crap for no good reason at all....
one quick pass across the paper,
no sketches,
no plans,
no hopes for success,
and no worries about failure, either.
i mean,
it's made out of garbage, duders.
c'mon.
you only get eleven minutes to sit down, drop in,
and make something that isn't completely sh!tty.
that's it.
rules is rules, after all.
-
did it work?
i dunno.
but,
it happened.
and honestly,
after the way the styles have hardened up
all around the arthur-making world i'm living in these days?
that it happened at all is something to be psyched about.
word.
*
some people draw all the time.
scraps and pads and sheaves and leaves and folios
are filled with scribbles and doodles and notes an' that.
i know all about it,
but mostly i just bake treats.
maybe it's high time i start doing both.
too much is the right amount,
and there is a whole world unfolding in front of us, folks.
it needs to be filled to the gills with stuff.
i think that's the best thing that could probably be happening;
never quiet, never soft.....