frosting.

frosting is the key to success.
that's real.
got some treats?
they're good, too?
terrific.
but good isn't good enough is it?
no way, neighbors.
if we wanna make 'em expert,
and take 'em to eleven,
what do we do about doo-dooing that?
word up.
we just add a sh!tpile of frosting.
duh.
and it really works!
check the teleport:

c'mon.
am i right or am i right?
i mean, right?
frosting in a triple-stacked circle.
goobieblops in a smaller buttholier circle,
and another 'nothe rim around the bottom.
totally flippin' expert.
oh,
and cinnamony sweet apples under all that frosting,
on top of a genuine old lady-type coffee crumb cake underneath.
yuuuuuup.
baked greats are what i'm about,
and finishing moves involving frosting are how i go about it.
really real life sometimes uses vegan cream chee' to activate
all the superfancies and the unnecessaries.
uh-huh.
i'm as surprised as y'all are,
but it seems that it's definitely a genuine thing.
***********
hey, duders-
y'know what happened when sandwich week ended?
yep.
i ordered a mutha-F*ing sandwich.
of course.
teleport:

hummus and avocado, and focaccia, all the stuffs.
mmmhmmmm.
a store-bought encore,
for my fat flippin' face.
awwwww, man.
i can't help it, kids.
i just hate goodbyes.
*
it's negative degrees still,
and i'm feeling fairly negatively about that.
mountain air hurts when it's sharpened by wind,
and tempered by temperature,
and slicing through my skin.
ouch.
i'm so cold, i don't even know what to do...
i'm probably gonna need more frosting;
never quiet, never soft.....

jinx.

friday the thirteenth!
today is the day.
odd prime numbers,
and negative numbers registering
on the calendar and the thermometer
make me remember,
whilst shivering inside my house,
in all the layers of clothing i can comfortably pile on,
as the heat blasts full-force, to no measurable avail,
and my hot hot tea cools off on the counter
within moments of pouring it,
that today is un-F*ing-lucky.
jeeeeez.
it feels lame, this being up early, and all of this freezing.
i know the great white northern mountainous reaches
of new hampshire's woodsly goodness give no F*s at all.
like, AT ALL, at all......
but today still started off on a hard-styled, too-early,
wrong-bedside, limping left-footed deficit of hottness and heat.
awwwwww, man!
but,
y'know what IS making me feel fortunate though, neighbors?
seasonally appropriate XI-mas treats.
yuuuup.
check the good-luck-charming teleport:

peppermint chocolate creme pie?
duders,
there're crumbled up chocolate snap cookies,
AND ground graham crackers in that crust-
it was a must-do mash-up of mixed grains an' that.
it's also the best one yet.
by the way, friends,
all the mint oil and extracts i didn't have?
mmmhmmm.
it made my activation shift up a notch,
into expert adaptation mode.
that's a thing.
so many candy-type canes laid down their hooked forms
to allow this peppermint nightmare to live!
chocolate candy cane creme,
crushed candycane dusties on top,
and holiday-themed sprankles, too.
and just when we thought that was enough?
uh-huh.
peppermints mashed into the mutha-'ucking frosting too.
word.
too much is the right amount.
you can trust me on that.
***********
today is also the day i'm required to register my new car.
that should be fun.
the least-pleasant lady i've ever met is in charge of being pissed-off
directly at my face at the department of motor vehicles.
well,
actually,
c'mon now.
this is the rural woods an' that.
i register my car at the town hall,
at the tax collector's office,
next to the selectmen's office, by the police window.
uh-huh.
seriously,
it's all in one teeny-tiny spot.
city friends, you would loooove this quaint sh!t,
but the lady behind the counter makes it a real city dmv experience.
real talk.
vanity plates are in order.
why?
because i'm like that.
obvi.
what are my new custom narcissism jauns gonna say?
good question.
i guess we'll know by tonight.
it's all really happening,
mysteries and maladies and misappropriations and all;
never quiet, never soft.....

sandwiches.

all week.
sandwiches.
i mean,
c'mon,
it's F*ing sandwich week.
that's so good for me.
neighbors,
do you know the BEST part about sandwich week?
yup.
it's eleven days long.
and that's expert, isn't it?
yeah,
it sure as sh!t is.
we like mushrooms over here.
they're secret button fruits from beneath the flippin' earth.
that being the case,
check the mycelium-activation-type teleport:

portobello, b!tches!!
marinated in g.p.o.p., salt, pepper,
bragg's improved soyish sauce,
and white balsamic vinegar, because i'm fancy...
it got broiled up,
and stayed sittin' pretty on toasted ciabatta bread,
with two kinds of greens above and below.
uh-huh.
braised arugala,
and crisp watercress,
with grilled red onions to finish it off.
hmmm?
of course it was dope.
don't be stoopid.
*
that was days ago, tho, yo.
so what about last night?
yeah.
what about last night?
oh, y'know,
last night got it IN.
homemade cashew, basil, parsley, nootch pesto?
yeah!!
so expert.
check the italiano-type teleport:

c'mon, kids;
now do we activate or do we F*ing activate?
with sweet-onion-simmered crimini mushrooms;
and curly parsley, for all the nutrients,
and grilled sourdough slices,
all so that i could hit up a souper-saturated (get it?)
nootch-blasted herb-crusted tempeh steak in between all of it.
friends,
i'm just trying to tell y'all-
it's sandwich week for crying out loud.
and that means eleven days of expertism is full effect.
this is what happens when i'm allowed to explore happiness.
Folk Life & Liberty for everybody,
and sandwiches for me and my peoples.
i'm grateful for the events that transpire and unfold,
and for the secret universal viscera that plans for the future.
yes, indeed,
it's all going on and on and on;
never quiet, never soft.....

delayed broadcast.

i'm a bit behind.
no,
i'm not A behind.
(like, a butt, or whatever)
i'm just getting ahead of myself more often than not.
i noticed that i put up a picture of my assorted T'n'T breads,
and therein was an unidentified brick of sexy bakery hottness.
a tasty sexy rectangular mini loaf, even,
and one that i hadn't even told y'all about yet.
jeez.
recap?
alright......
sunday night,
me and my buddy beau got activated.
uh-huh.
because that's what warrior poets do, duders.
c'mon.
but,
what went on in between pizza and pretzel bread?
just a little baked greatness from the future.
no big deal.
seriously,
we turned up the heat in the kitchen,
and turned on the oven, too,
and made expert use of the items i had on hand.
huh?
i'll tell you what, neighbors-
brown bananas are what was sitting on the countertop,
and precisely what we used to create some treats for ourselves.
i mean,
we weren't gonna just make regular bread,
at least,
not if bananas were tempting us within easy arms' reach.
y'heard?
check the tiny-loaves-of-enormous-excellence-type teleport:

uh-oh!
that's awfully bluish for a banana, huh?
yes,
indeed, they sure are.
freeze-dried blueberries crushed into powder,
added into the flour turned the brown banana bits blue.
that's rich and thick an' sh!t, for really real.
and then,
just to take it further,
and put it farther up the grainary evolutionary ladder,
we added even more tiny whole wild blueberries to the mix, too.
what?
yuuuuuuuup.
overloading our senses with a doomsday dosage of dopeness.
luckily,
we're fully-formed berserker battle-beasts,
and are able to withstand a tremendous amount of mind-blowing
gut-busting overwhelming onslaught of culinary competence.
...and we eat a lot, too.
***********
the cold outside has kept the snow looking perfect.
i love that.
i hate the chill that fills the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
but i love what i see when i'm looking out the windows.
however,
i can't tell if my vision is blurred because there's frost on the windows,
or if i'm just shivering so much my eyes are vibrating.
hard to say,
but i'm warming up and simultaneously dehydrating
every long lanky dangling bit of my whole dang self,
pressed and distressed up as close to the woodstove as i can get,
at least, without immolating, anyway.
it's a hard trade.
marginal body temperature comfort by becoming a withered husk,
a raisin at the hearth,
a real jerk as human jerky.
awwwwwwww, man.
i'm kinda skinny, guys.
and i just get so cold.
maybe if i had more sweaters?
i dunno.
but,
i've got so many treats to make,
i'm sure the oven will help superheat my immediate atmosphere.
thank heavens for baked greats.
without 'em,
i'd probably be one of those tundra mummies.
would that actually be worse?
well, no, that'd be kind of rad, actually..
but,
it's all of the freezing to death first part that i'm trying to avoid;
never quiet, never soft.....

dead birds with big heads.

duders,
i do this:

an extinct stinking doo-doo dodo?
i dunno.
sometimes.
i think i should apply myself.
other times,
i think garbage art is pretty expert.
either way, neighbors,
that makey-sh!t is becoming a habit.
and,
of course,
so is this:

hahahaha.
i'm dumb.
but,
you like it;
never quiet, never soft.....

so much food.

neighbors,
i make a lot of food.
check the sandwich week-type teleport:

yellow curry powerhouse jauns?!
yup.
spicy curried coconut-crusted tofu,
and spicier yellow coconut curry sauce,
and crushed pineapple,
and cukes,
and tomatoes,
and mung sprouts,
and red pepper/red onion tapenade,
and more drizzled sauce yellow curry magic......
holy sh!t, friends-
i think i found the limits.
ciabatta bread, revived with fully-activated pentosans,
is too damned crusty to crush easily.
and with all those wet layers in between,
it got pretty sloppy pretty flippin' quickly.
we make messes this week.
that's just the way we have to do it.
i'd leave a few things off next time,
just to make sure it gets eaten even harder,
not so it gets even harder to eat.
y'heard?
anyway,
it was totally F*ing expert.
you may rely on that as a constant.
wordimus prime.
***********
hummus bagel sandwich?
oh.
okay.
simple lunchtime action for your A*.
check the easy-does-it-type teleport:

and it just HAD to be multigrain, goddammit!
shredded carrots and two kinds of sprouts,
and lettuce and cukes and sriracha for my mouthpiece!!
sandwiches are all i'm about today.
that's real.
***********
another 'nother other snow day, though, yo.
that's pretty righteous.
ma nature smothered us in cold white powder,
and i used the opportunity to sleep in.
it's so silent when the icy crystal blanket is applied.
what goes great with snow day laziness?
teleport:

a spread of assorted toasts,
to go with my tea.
you know it.
duders,
anything could happen,
and all of it really is-
that's the whole point.
food food food food food.
food.
get after it;
never quiet, never soft..... 

it continues.

what?!
a SNOW DAY??!!
yuuuuup.
neighbors,
you know what that means-
ANYthing could happen.
and i'm ready for whatever winter-wonderful chaos
that comes tumbling down along with these flakes.
that's real.
i love snow days.
hard.
and i love how beautiful they make everything for a little bit,
and how they make everything so much quieter,
and how they make fires warmer,
and lights brighter,
and sandwiches more delicious....
wait.
what?
oh, riiiiight.
it's still sandwich week.
...and that means we keep on being super-turbo expert.
last night?
word up, kids-
 we brought it back to eleven, for sure.
off the charts with flavor and fun and fanciness an' that.
check the fat-stacks-type-teleport:

pretzel bread,
toasted on the insides,
a smear of hummus,
a spray of sprouts,
boston bib lettuce (the only good thing about boston),
thinly sliced tomatoes,
fried crunchy french onions,
and a big ol' honkin' homemade chick-pea bean burger.
heck yes, friends.
garbanzo flour, and garbanzo beans, sauteed shallots,
parsley, oat flour, olive oil, three itty-bitty baby mashed potatoes,
flax seeds, apple-smoked sea salt, bragg's, sage, thyme, and black peps?
duders,
those fattie boombattie patties brought five kinds of thunder.
yum4tum?
don't be dumb.
the magic happened in our mouths,
and that wasn't even the only time it got conjured, either.
check the four-hours-earlier teleport:

c'mon.
one half of a vegan pizza,
rolled up like a coil of calamity,
and burrito-blasted down the hatch.
me and my homeboy beau know how to get busy, b!tches.
jealous?
i know.
feel free to style-bite my pizza roll,
it's expert, and it's delicious.
real talk.
***********
cookies?
yeah.
i made, and then forgot to mention,
these tiny little rich and tasty wizard discs.
teleport:

almond flour and coconut flour and oatmeal flour and so much butterish,
almond paste and almond oil in the creme,
and almond extract in the icing,
oh,
and an actual real-life almond on top.
uh-huh.
if you ain't reppin' that much of what you're making,
then you ain't reppin' your sh!t to eleven.
expert recognize expert,
and that's means too much is still the starting point for worthy activation.
*
anything can happen.
be prepared;
never quiet, never soft.....

between the bread.

multigrain bread is overrated.
there.
i said it.
it's just a bunch of sh!tty seeds and crunchy bits
sitting in stasis inside some boring wheaty beat bits.
of course,
i didn't issue the final decree about it
until immediately after it let me down for the last time.
awwwww.
check the mostly-delicious-except-for-the-bread-type teleport:

big steaky slabs of mushrooms,
olive oily and salty and peppery.
expert.
watercress' sharp stinging leafy crunch.
expert.
radicchio slaw, with shredded carrots,
for the perfect blend of creamy and crisp.
expert.
sprouts for concentrated nutrient activation in each green pubey tube.
expert.
and cukes,
just because cukes are always expert.
...too bad that A*-batch of nubbly knobbly crap bread
tried to make it sweet in a bad way.
luckily,
the insides overcame the obstacle of the outsides, certainly.
but this sandwich was only about a nine, or so,
and didn't get up to the standard eleven i expect from my food.
damn.
dinner is sometimes a hard style.
i still ate both of them, anyway.
i'm not a weak little delicate diaperbaby, y'know...
besides,
shark-gluttony is still mandatory.
and rules IS rules after all, y'all.
***********
work.
wood.
fire.
dinner.
bed.
it's a cold weather routine and it's what's really happening.
there really should probably be a lot more XI-mas shopping, too-
but slow goings and long nights make for tough times,
and these presents sure aren't gonna pay for themselves.
it's cold and busted outside,
it's warm and inviting in here.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is where i need to be,
the woodsly goodness is where it stands,
and when all of it is all together?
it all unfolds according to plan;
never quiet, never soft.....

assorted odds and ends.

so,

it's pearl harbor day.

that's real.

sneaky attacks and undeclared majors, so to speak-

it's also a whole other other kind of pearly day, too, duders.

uh-huh.

today is the guru of supreme intelligence's berfday.

hmmmm?

the guru, y'know?

my dad?

yeah.

his three-hundred and eighty first tour around the sun.

today.

happy berfday, old man!

seriously,

this guy bridges the missing link between cuban and chain.

(that's a Wu-TANG reference, ma)

so he's a missing link mutha F*er?

oh, yes.

he doo-doo's that freaky sh!t.

he was part of the late hellacious period of evolution;

the middle polystyrene epoch;

the pre-curmudgeon/cambrian jauns.

what i mean is-

that dude is ancient wisdom personified.

that's no joke.

happy happy day-

without him,

there'd be no me,

so now you know who to direct your complaints towards.

word.

if you knew him,

you'd know we all need him-

and if you need him,

you know you're definitely afflicted with the bloodcurse

of worthy warrior werewolfen battle-beastly berserker fury.

that's a real thing.

it travels on DNA, neighbors

i mean, like,

my pops like to get F*ed up the same way.

infinite nature echoes outward in all of us.

happy berfday, mango. 

***********

c is for cookie, stoopid.

c'mon.

i make 'em,

because i'm all about that sh!t.

check the coconut-times-three-type teleport:

snowball circles?

yuuuuuup!

butter cookies with all the coconut for us to appreciate.

coconut flour, coconut oil, and rolled-on coconut magic.

putting the coconut to it is how i do it, kids.

snowy weather calls for snowy treats, right?

that's what we're all all about after all.

*

what about sandwich week?

is that still happening?

yeah.

it continues apace.

you should check the teleport:

nootch-and cashew-and g.p.o.p. crusted tofu,

a smear of vegenaise,

some peppers,

and soy-sauce sauteed arugala on that flatness?

expert.

crushed red spicy peps and black-style peps were also making

cameos to activate the hot hottness that heated up my mouthpiece.

there is always more of all of that business.

*

and that's what's new.

another year older,

another sandwich fuller,

a plate of cookies fatter.

it's all really happening-

that's the whole point;

never quiet, never soft.....

slow day.

a few cheap markers.
folded scraps of looseleaf papers.
no sketches.
no ideas.
just single pass skulls and flowers.
check the teleport:

awwwww, man.
regular tattoo picturemaker jauns.
i guess that happens now and again.
i suppose it could be a lot worse,
but,
i just actually like killed-up heads, and plants, an' that.
*
also,
i keep making making myself uglier,
and doper.
teleport:

i just can't help but F* with my whole face.
that's a thing.
i still do things besides cook foods and bake treats.
real-life documentarianism dictates
that if it's really happening, i probably gotta tell you all about it.
.......you're welcome.
*
i think there will probably be more of this.
fog and rain and cold are combined to keep away the clients.
lucky?
yes and no.
a grand don't come for free,
but a gaytard explosion isn't worth the cost;
never quiet, never soft.....

sandwich strong.

that's right!
sandwich week??
more like sandwich strong.
i'm just sayin', neighbors-
these homemade flatbread jauns?
with the cornmeal mixed in?
they're an awful lot like Wu-TANG.
y'know?
yeah.
...they're for the children.
of course,
since there aren't any kids around these days,
i'm not about to let 'em go to waste.
check the openface-type teleport:

oval strips of tempeh in that sizzling simmering sauce, suckas!
uh-huh.
brown action, with herbs and spices an' sh!t all over 'em.
and sesame-fried asparagus,
and sweet onions,
and skin-on cukes for the sake of the g-dang nutrients,
and the last aw-shoots from the peas, please.
plus some crushed red peppery flakes to take it to eleven?
yuuuuup.
friends,
i think i'm onto something here.
once the foldover gets activated,
and those two sides collide and unify,
it's a verifiably virtuoso viking victual victory inside my mouth.
that's a thing.
sandwich week has done it again.
duders,
we decide what we want to mean something.
we pick what matters.
sure,
it's just a weeklong feast of small breads with stuff in them,
but it's just the importance of the occasion for the ceremony.
it's ALL really happening,
so why shouldn't some of it be celebrated?
right?
yeah.
we rep what seems a strange style to some,
but we're all about it over here.
little things make big pictures full of tiny details.
that's the way it should be.
simple and easy concealing superfancy special effectiveness.
expertism doesn't accept short shrift or third shifts of weak sh!t-
believe it.
we do it live,
but we do it right....
you can go ahead and read some diapery baby bullcrap
straight out of your recipe book,
and we'll freestyle the loudest, freshest hardness instead.
it's just a sandwich,
but it's also the way we live our lives.
worthy warrior poetry, from meals to mettle-testing melee-
Folk Life & Liberty is what we want.
***********
y'know what, y'all?
it's raining.
a lot.
and that means early sleeps,
and pittered patters that put me out for the night.
mmhmmm.
i can't help it-
that steady splattering nonstop dripdrop lullabyes me
to n'night-land like nothing else.
i can't stand the rain, against my window,
bringing back sweet memories.
...unless i'm under ALL the covers.
then,
it can't get me,
and that makes me psyched enough to snooze forever.
wordimus prime,
i'm well rested and wide awake.
today is the day;
never quiet, never soft.....