coconutty.

four forms of coconut?
F*ing right, duders.
check the elite-treat-type teleport:

booooooom!
coconut flour and medium flake coconut and coconut milk
all in the mix makes coconut cake.
that's two layers of the first type of coconut activation, kids.
it's frosted with coconut spreadability,
extra firm, fully-formed, and semi-fondant in it's dope density.
expert.
that's the second style of coconut.
then,..
in the middle, holding it together,
and in the florets dolloping like a worthy warrior wallop on top?
yup.
cocoa-coconut frosting, too.
that's three.
and last, but, really, neighbors, most importantly-
toasted coconut sprankles everywhere.
that added depth.
that extra bite.
toothsome and terrific and all really happening.
i only want what's best.
and this is the best.
and that's no joke.
coconut, and coconut, and cocoa-coconut, and toasted coconut.
i do what i say,
and i say what i mean.
too much is the right amount,
...and without excess,
how would we know how much better we are than everybody else?
seriously.
if i wasn't overdoing it,
then just regular-doing it would seem okay.
and that's NOT okay.
not one little tiny bit.
activating the extras,
and bringing more to the table.
these are the things i value,
and this is what i'm eating for breakfast.
luxurious?
don't even kid yourselves.
i'm all-out ball-out bringin' it this friday morning.
wordimus prime;
never quiet, never soft.....

the anti-scurvy chocolate treats brigade.

chocolate creme pie is expert.
that's obvious to anybody who knows anything.
but,
it's not enough.
i mean,
there could be more going on.
and i insist that there has to be all of it at once,
or else,
why am i even standing at the stove, stirring?
right?
right.
so,
i took the crust i crushed up and graham cracker'd,
and added oats and sugar and vanilla,
and baked it firmly at a few hundred fahrenheit degrees.
then,
i sliced a few oranges up.
yeah.
that's correct, neighbors.
oranges.
vitamins, and acids, and citrus oils, and everything.
i put some zest in with the melting chocolate,
i put some juice in with the powdered sugar, and the tapioca,
and the silky smooth supersoft tofu, (and added a bit more zest, too)
there was essential orange extract activation to complement the vanilla,
and then,
when i couldn't contain the new hottness anymore,
i poured it into the pan and let it chill the F* out.
that's the way it had to happen.
but,
while all of that was going on, there was a whole other 'nother set of situations unfolding.
mmmhmmm.
check the teleport:

c'mon!!
that's what's up.
candied orange peels.
expert.
sliced, fileted, pithed, and boiled.
three times, i cooked 'em up.
that's the magic number, friends.
two cold water baths,
and a simple syrup saturation soak,
with vanilla added in at the cool-down stage......
then they're drained, strained, pressed, and rolled in sugar
before they took a turn in the fridge on top of that pie business.
i'm tellin' you- too much is the right amount.
which also means that that IS chocolate orange frosting, too.
after all,
i'm not just gonna talk about it,
i've gotta be about it, too.
i rep a hard style with my smooth treats.
i think that's the way to do it right.
***********
i haven't slept worth a sh!t in days and days.
i don't think it's affecting me poorly, really,
except in the face-piece.
that's looking worn out and beat up.
the thing is-
i can't see my own face,
and avoiding mirrors is way easier than you might expect.
real talk.
i'm getting things accomplished,
just,
they aren't the burdens i should be shouldering.
i have to say, y'all-
i don't do anything just a little bit,
and this new lot of lots and lots is really expanding outwards and upwards.
there is always more of all of it,
and it doesn't look like nights are gonna matter much in the progression.
i'm tryin' to get my props, so to speak,
and that means my eyes stay open in the dark;
never quiet, never soft.....

workspace

so,
there's no room on any countertops.
that's for real.
so,
now i'm on the floor.

but,
that's slowly filling up, too.
eventually,
i'll just be outside,
i am getting all kinds of rad stuff, though.
like what?
like clear magic lights, that strobe and sh!t.

mmhmm.
the thing is,
i keep getting more and more and more and more...
and that, in turn, leads to even less space,
and extra projects,
and all of it is underway at all hours in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
it makes for  hard styles and headaches and heavy traffic from room to room
for all the pieces to puzzle out and put together .
i'm burying myself in parts of parts and bits of flash and dazzle.
eventually,
i'll have something to show for it besides a ruin of a room,
and a wreck of a kitchen.
sure,
i'm still baking.
obviously.
i'm not an actual A*-hole, after all.
but,
i've got rain outside spoiling my spray-paintables,
and i've got too many free-floating slow-going gadgets to glue,
and there's no keeping track of any of it,
even with a labyrinthine crazy-brain spanning across time and space
to create all of this play-pretend make-believability come true.
ugh.
i'm swamped with tasks i've set myself,
and there's still so much that needs doing in my daily real life routine, too.
i guess that sleep isn't really an option these nights.
and wide awakefulness is keeping me slim and trim and purple-bagged around the eyes.
expert.
you know the rules-
stay ugly, stay dope.
i've got hours of cutting and sanding tiny details you'll never notice, neighbors.
this is the way it all starts.
chaos makes for order in the long run;
never quiet, never soft.....

never forget...

...to activate that expert sh!t, neighbors.

for serious,
if there's one thing i took away from the disasterpiece of american dramabombing,
and the ensuing terrors, trials, tribulations, and triumphs?
yeah.
we only ever get what time we get,
with no guarantees of good, bad, ugly, or explosive...
i'm grateful for the time that i have been given.
so,
i'm doing what i do to span it the most expressively, expensively. expansively.
and with all the raging savage stormswept berserker gyspsy enthusiasm i've got.
if this is all there is,
then it's gotta go to eleven,
even when it's not going anywhere at all;
never quiet, never soft.....

full moons.

neighbors,
it's SO bright out at night.
like,
specifically the last couple of nights.
y'know?
because of the giant glowing circle above us?
yeah.
it's got all the magnetic ethereal lunatic-tock clock-rockin'
anybody could ever want, and then some.
i guess the moon knows that too much is the right amount,
and that's the way it's going up in the sky,
and it's going hard while it's at it.
dang.
my much-needed beauty sleep isn't hanging around,
in fact, it has essentially deserted  the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
but.
plastic pieces and paint sure are picking up the slack.
i mean it.
i've been masking stuff into the wee small hours of the morning,
falling asleep with paint under my nails,
dreaming about rotary tools in a reciprocating cycle circulating around
my r.e.m. eyelids and polarized full-moon brainwaves.
no.
i mean it.
weird nighttimes and angsty awakenings,
and pvc pipedreams with enough white dust to trigger an FAA body-cavity search.
yikes.
what did i do first thing this morning?
start taping up some more sh!t, to repurpose into other other sh!t?
mmhmm.
you know i did.
check the teleport:

that's right, guys.
wrappin' it up is important.
keeps all the bad parts where you want 'em.
it is surely necessary, if pretend-time maskin' is on the schedule.
and that's not all.
i'm also gonna start adding faux rivets to these jauns, too:

yep.
drippy-A* epoxy droplets to mimic that brass bastardry.
got to have those tubes lookin' expert.
after all,
no mechanical eldritch arm-armor is complete without weird pipes.
that's real.
a braced brace of bracketed bracers for me and my kids?
you know it.
alas,
the pistol prop i've been slowwwwwwwly producing still evades completion.
too many sidebars and time-fillers to focus fully on the flamethrowin' firearm.
awwwwww.
but,
i did scrape, tape, paint, rub, buff, peel, reveal and assemble the rear aerator.
whatever that is.
teleport:

yep.
it's sorta see through!
which should be obvious,
and pretty flippin' cool.
no?
maybe.
alright, fine-
i'm a big nerdy old guy.
that's just great.
thanks for joining in, with that observation-
i know i feel better now.
*
fullest moons,
and wolfen wariness with wholehearted wild wiles,
all together make for some battle-beast bullsh!t all night,
and total fallible human weariness all dang day.
my lids are heavy,
and my hands are clumsy,
and i'll be outside grinding plastic as soon as the temperature warms up.
that's no joke.
once the chill of this mountainous realm lifts in favor of the sun's rays,
and the blue-lit spots of silver moon magic are erased again until tonight,
i'll be cross-legged and lame in the driveway,
doing what i do.
it's all really happening,
and it's all that there ever really is;
never quiet, never soft.....

mocha, sorta.

how much cocoa is enough cocoa?
yup.
too much cocoa.
obviously.
too much is the right amount,
especially when we're talking about that brown magic.
turns out, the more chocolaty hottness you add,
the more satanic the devilishness of the food-cake gets.
mmhmm.
devil's food is new to me,
and i don't know actually what that is supposed to be....
there are no tormented sinners in my kitchen,
besides me,
and i'm not climbing into any batter anytime soon.
i'd sooner go straight to hell.
oh.
i see.
yeah.
well,
i used thirty-three% MORE cocoa than usual,
and i shaved up and added in some chunky chocolate, too,
for melty thickness in the crumb of my bundt, baby.
that's right.
i kept it blacker than black,
and took it back to my origins.
check the devil's-own-type teleport:

yum4tum, F*ers.
and that's so much coffee on there, too, neighbors.
that's right.
espresso was the liquid used to dissolve the confectioners' sugar.
instant coffee snuck in there, too, for added activation.
plus,
when i needed to make sure it went to eleven?
uh-huh.
vanilla and coffee extract.
expert.
was that enough?
no way.
there's never enough.
so,
i took a handful of caramel turtle sprankles,
and gave that butthole-shaped bomb a little something extra.
you know you like it.
it's so rich,
it's out of your pay-grade, friends.
but,
there is still a slice or three left,
if you're in the woodsly goodness and need a little somethin' to see you through.
really.
***********
and it's already saturday again,
and it's already full-moon time again.
the pregame insomnia is in full effect.
i haven't slept well in a little minute,
and the big dark discs around my eyes have me looking especially skeletal.
yuck.
long nights,
and hard styles,
and tough workdays,
and worse weeknights.
i mean it.
this one has been a dumb one,
and i can't hang out with that.
maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow,
the big action will come back around again.
i'll have a faceful of cake and a handful of wrench,
and a respirator mask on, too.
the fumes were really wrecking my eyes and my nose and my brainwaves.
werewolves and waterpistols, y'all.
this is what happens when real life doesn't really give a sh!t;
never quiet, never soft.....

MORE.

waterpistols?
man,
you can keep your waterpistols.
i'm on that ray gun/blaster/cannon/boiler sh!t.
really.
i want your old busted jauns,
because i'm trying to create some unique antiquey new hottness.
that's the truth.
but, well, yes, actually...
...i did use a couple of cheap waterpistols to do it.
c'mon.
i'm making things out of things,
and i'm using common items for imaginary science,
and inventive surreal physics and mechanics.
y'know?
yeah.
nerd action.
i am all about that, neighbors.
slowly,
i'm building up a cache of cool-if-you're-lame-type tools.
hell,
i bought a dremel.
yeah.
the good one.
all the bits, and twice as many pieces,
and even more speeds.
high and low, and super-duper-high,
and everything in-between on an incremental dial of dopeness.
word up.
but,
mostly,
it's the waterpistols.
mmhmm.
alright, guys.
go ahead.
check the teleport:

pretty neat, right?
what?
yes, i know it's not a cake.
i think sometimes you folks get the wrong idea about me.
i love guns, even pretend ones-
even fantastic creations based in the realm of a jules-vernian musing.
uh huh.
all guns is dope.
that's a true story, told truly.
anyway,
that's a mostly the same watergun.
a hose, a lanyard, a recorder tip, a pvc ring rear sight,
the waterpistol water plug converted to a front sight,
epoxy 'rivets', and a thread spool make it expert though.
then i took the same style of squirtgun,
and chopped and altered it in different styles and poses.
haha.
teleport:

yep.
y'gotta love a two-pack, friends.
because that means more and then a little bit more.
good stuff, for sure...
-
my daughters and i are in constant contact about this project,
and that's absolutely great news.
next up,
it's goggles and gauntlets for me and mine.
superior nerd activation, at a distance, is bringing us closer together.
cake and muffins doesn't even do THAT.
so yeah, y'all, just try to bear with me.
i'm creating family togetherness bonds for the children.
wu-TANG.
these little crafty crapshooters are something we're sharing,
and i'm sharing them with you, too.
no,
you can't have one!
make your own.
jeez.
there IS plenty of cake at the studio, though-
so you're welcome to come collect a slice of that;
never quiet, never soft.....

blueberries.

berries, duders.
berries are just so dang awesome.
really.
and that is especially true of the wild maine blue-bombs.
bluberries have got it going on.
and the woodsly goodness is right on the borderland of the best ones around.
mmhmm.
i love those itty-bitty smaller-than-the-tame-variety circles
of activated antioxidant excellence.
i had a whole bunch on hand,
and i had the freeze-dried version of 'em, too.
i'll say another 'nother thing, also, neighbors-
the wild small guys are way more expert than the big fatties.
i assume that's probably true everywhere.
those cultivated rounders are good,
but the free-range roamers are great.
so,
that's what i'm using when i get the choice, every single time.
anyway,
when it comes right down to the bottom-line dirt-dirtiest things,
it isn't enough to rest easy on the laurels of a good thing being good.
i mean,
not when it could almost always be better.
and better is better than best,
when best has room for improvement.
that's a thing.
so,
anyway, anyway,
keeping in mind that striving for maximum hottness never ever takes a break...
check the better-than-best-type teleport:

yeah!!
my vegan blueberry chee'cake is for the future.
time-travel style.
i used four kinds of thickners, y'all.
four different mass-affecters,
for the ultimate in dense, soft, sexy cakey business.
i doo-doo that sort of freaky sh!t.
tapioca starch, corn starch, egg-replacer starch, and flour,
in small but important roles, all contributed to making this one the best one.
and seriously, kids,
it IS the most elite one i've yet tasted.
that thick crust?
oatmeal, raw sugar, graham crackers,
and some of that shredded unsweetened dry coconut,
gummed up and glued together with butters and vanilla and soymilk an' that.
so firm,
so soft,
so crumbly,
so perfect.
with that lemon juiced, lemon-extracted, vanilla laced,
lightly sweetened simmered saucy berry compote
drizzled spread, and set up to chill out on the superior-side of the circle.
that's what i'm trying to say, friends-
this one gets an A+.
***********
ugh.
i think we're starting to slow down.
like,
at the tattbomb studio, i mean.
thirty-three percent.
that is what history has taught me to expect to see disappear.
that's a lot?
no sh!t that's a lot.
it's this damned tourist town.
damn.
love and hate are vying at all times for dominance.
i mean it.
all summer long,
while i'm enjoying th scenic expanses of this minute mountain vale,
i'm also hard-heartedly hating and harranguing the hapless tourists.
but,
when they leave?
mhmm.
so do those fat movie checks.
and i love the dough, yo.
that's no joke.
so, sure, the roads and the restaurants are wide open,
but my wallet isn't as obese as it was last week, by about a third.
ha.
hard styles return to the woodsly goodness it seems,
just in time to start stacking firewood.
cycles, circles, sumps, stumps, summits, and sleep.
yikes.
it's ALL really happening.
this is the way it continues to unfold,
and that's that;
never quiet, never soft.....

just give me enough glue.

neighbors-
i've been working on these props for a little minute.
and now i'm lookin' to get some props for 'em.
y'know?
like, due and proper kudos, an' that.
yeah.
i've still got plenty more work to do on most of them.
hmm?
oh, yes.
i've got a whole bunch of toy pistols and waterguns and pipes and plugs.
there will be variations and extrapolations on the theme for a bit to come.
that's no joke.
i don't really see the point in doing something one time just to try it.
if the first take doesn't suck balls,
the next bunch of 'em should be turbo-elite.
right?
so,
i'll keep working on taking another 'nother new nerd skillset to eleven,
adding it to my ample reserves of unmarketable talents and abilities.
woohoo!
expert.
awwwwwwwww, man.
before i bum myself out thinking about the time i span doing projects
just for the sake of doing interesting things with my brain and hands,
instead of doing things that might be more profitable and productive.....
let me at least show you the fruits of my most recent sleepless night.
check the pulse-point-pistol-type teleport:

and the reaction-hand-side, too:
                            
YEAH.
i'm excited.
the little bits and pieces are what's up, y'all.
really.
every extra tube and screw makes it cooler.
next time,
there will be way more rivets.
rivets are expert.
*
the only problem,
as i can foresee but not forestall,
is that my nerd-brain starts engineering reasons for the add-ons.
i'm not kidding.
stratospherium converters,
and sonic inverters,
and all sorts of mostly-pretend elements and places and powers.
mmhmmm.
a lifetime of science fiction, fantasy, comics, and roleplaying dork sh!t
has poisoned me down to my deepest core.
that big lame teenager oozes out if he's given even the slightest leeway.
...so now this is what's going on.
there are cut, chopped, lowered, louvered, cantilevered halves and wholes,
all needing more and more and more of this polyvinyl mad-scientist activation.
there are worse things, certainly.
i could be memorizing sports stats,
or learning the lyrics to pop-country music...
i s'pose i'll take some small comfort in creating something from something else.
making more.
that's the thing.
and it's the center of everything.
more action, more adventure,
more creativity, more money,
more time.....
making more of it, and making what you've already got matter more.
today is the day;
never quiet, never soft.....

lightning striking viking.

what happens when you mix styles?
they get harder.
they're like two-part epoxy in that.
so,
when it was time to terrorize matt's chest,
we made sure to take his drawings and my tattooing,
and mix them together in a modified hodge-podge hegemony
of lightning-striking comicbook ghost-face barbarianism.
mmmhmmm.
ten years of punishing this guy with hot lasers of pain,
and he still keeps coming up to get his lumps.
ouch.
anyway,
sometimes i use a tight three needle grouping for extra bikery norse details.
check the teleport:

sternum beard!
so many lines.
too many lines.
the right amount of lines.
unless you're his xiphoid.
then that up there is waaaaaaay the wrong way to put hair on your chest.
yikes.
-
so,
we spanned a whole lot of time together, he and i,
and all of that is what took up a big ol' bunch of yesterday.
y'know?
so much for labor day.
and yet, labor was what i seem to find myself doing a lot of all the time,
and labor is probably what he felt like he was in.
the thing is-
labor day is always just another workday.
sorta like every other three-day holiday since forever ago.
no breaks for me since the nineties with that sh!t, neighbors...
fifteen years of labor days at work?
yeah.
that's a thing
*
duders,
it's been one heck of a summer.
nonstop hustlin' and grinding.
six-day work week steady hard-style pounding away at that flesh.
so gross.
and now?
now,
it's also time for chimney sweepin' and firewood stackin',
and before too long, fairs and apples and pumpkins, as well.
the little window into new englandy hottness is open just a crack,
and i'm peering into it.
it looks good to me.
i s'pose we'll see about that;
never quiet, never soft.....

rabbit rabbbbittttt

the first of the month.
a last day, extra day-off long weekend finale.
americans are celebrating labor day,
by NOT working.
nomenclature is not invited to the barbecue, apparently.
they should maybe call it lazy day, then,
if sittin' and sippin' is all that's going on.
huh?
of course not.
don't be dumb....
i'll be at work, neighbors.
you know that's a thing.
it's what i do.
...and speaking of what i do-
another 'nother thing that today is all about is magic.
y'know?
specifically,
those magic words.
word, really, but twice in a row.
yep.
of course i woke up way too early after crashing out waaaay too late,
but,
rules is rules,
therefore,
what had to be first thing to sound out loud from my morning-breathy lips?
mmhmm.
rabbit, rabbit!
i'm on it.
y'gotta be, unless you want that weak sh!t running rampant.
and because i'm summoning the spirits of cultivated coincidence to my house,
the woodsly is going extra heavy on the goodness.
mmhmm.
that's right, kids.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is a focal point for the loud fresh hardness
from now until november. even.
that sounds good to me,
we'll see what happens.
***********
i'm starting this day with lots of nerding out before work.
that's real.
spark that teleport:

dips and dots;
sanding without eye protection;
epoxy fumigation;
and metalliv wax rubbing are the priorities before i shower.
there has to be progress.
there HAS to.
forward momentum will produce results,
but consideration and pondering and musing will not.
so,
i'm just doing sh!t as hard as i can,
as much as i can,
and in as many different ways as i can.
it's all really happening,
and that's the whole point.
*
laboring.
i'm doing that, too.
all day tatzappin' is going to try and halt my toy-gun prop jauns.
(it won't work)
belabor the obvious day.
that's what today is all about.
the first of the ninth of the fourteenth.
today is the one;
never quiet, never soft.....