SPORTS.

the superbowl.
*yawn*
i still didn't watch it.
i still don't care about clever commercials.
it's not my thing.
i mean,
sports are obviously the very best thing that ever happened ever....
.....if you're the most boring person in the world.
otherwise,
there's too much to do,
and not enough time to do it,
which means that watching that stuff, instead of doing more stuff,
is kind of like throwing away a big ol' span of time.
...and i can't hang out with that,
but,
i CAN hang out with the team spirit i associate with fat american sports 'tards
when i comes to getting fatter and even more gluttonous than ever before.
what?
no.
really.
i mean it.
i don't care about super sunday,
but i sure as heckfire give a holy sh!t about eating site-specific
situationally-appropriate holiday-themed overdoses of dopeness.
mmhmmm.
rules is rules,
and i'll eat my way through almost any occasion.
besides,
i always bet on chili chee' to win the trophy,
and i fix the game, and bribe the officials,
so that it always does.
neighbors,
check the sports-and-fans-and-sports-and-sports-type teleport:

WU-TANNNNG!
duders,
double bean burgers.
uh-huh.
small red beans, and pink beans.
why the similarly shaded set of protein farterizers?
well,
i mean,
i was already making two-bean chili, in a hurry,
after a crazy long, super-sh!tty sunday at the tatzap shack,
so i held half back for burgers,
and that burly blend,
in cooperative tandem attack with the chili,
made for contextual continuity across my palette
in a way i wouldn't have imagined was possible when i left for work in the morning.
that's the truth.
friends,
i've been feeling run-down and achy, ague-afflicted and stuffed up,
but,
only weak-sauce diaperbabies call the game because of illness,
and i'm not about to b!tch out on movie checks when there's work to do.
do you know about that?
or are you reppin' sick days like a health-conscious hypochondriac?
ha.
i muscled through the messy mountain of tattoo time,
and raced home,
late,
to boil up some chili,
stir up some chee' sauce,
and mash some mutha-'ucking beans into burgers.
what's in the chili?
beans, duh.
and onions, and bell and chili peppers, a ton of garlic,
too damned many spices, broth, diced tomatoes, and a blast of nootch.
what about the chee'?
soymilk, butters, flour, nootch, salt, turmeric, g.p.o.p,, paprika, a little mustard,
and apple cider vinegar for the extra point.
friends,
the chili was great, and spicy;
the chee' was thick, and a ton of turmeric turned it appropriately garish in color,
the caramelized onions were all sorts of sweet and limp and brown and perfect,
and underneath?
word up-
the secret purple cabbage and cilantro slaw, with it's hint of shredded carrot,
and the pat of vegenaise that smoothed it out,
just happend to pair up in precise balance with the firm, flax-seeded, cashew-pulpy,
twin-bean, garlicy, oniony, spicy burger patty-boombattie big action on top.
and not for nothin',
but chili chee' burgers need to rest heavy on some serious bun action.
that's why,
before i even started the prep for all the simmering sexXxiness,
i also, kneaded a batch of homemade triple-rise buns from scratch.
that's F*ing right.
y'know why?
because expert recognize expert,
and doing vegan sports foods, without ruining it with sports,
is pretty flippin' expert, for certain.
........wait.
are you wondering what's up with that cauliflower?
ampy-d made buffs. b!tches.
yuuup.
y'GOTTA crush some buffs on super sunday.
i'm almost positive that's a thing.
those buffalo baked florets were hot!
twice dipped, and fired up, with so much ho' sauce my lips are still tingling.
....and that guacamole?
c'mon.
it was realllllllly dang good.
y'gotta rep the guac, too.
for serious, it's not an all-ammerican pro-sports spread without guac!!
we're just doing our part to participate,
and contribute to the 8 million pounds produced yesterday.
that's a fact.
and what's more-
that stuff was already ready when i arrived,
which made a good thing even better!
chee' doused wafflers?
OBviously.
you won't find me hanging about with people.
but you might find me doing my own version of a thing.
i prefer it, and it's usually more meaningful, and tastier,
and totally removed a ways away from regular.
that's the way wlorthy warrior poets compose their paeans.
like pros,
like prose,
like posing for pictures of food...
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

GONG XI FA CAI!!

this is it!
another 'nother chance at new new do-overy dopeness for everybody.
yup.
the big black absence in the sky above signifies a fresh start for our faces.
what i mean is,
with this new moon and it's darklight nighttime passage from horizon to horizon,
it's lunar new year, neighbors,
and that's expert.
mmhmm.
did i say it?
did i say it?
of course i said it.
what am i?
an A*-hole?
even when it's pan-asian alternate historical calendar flips,
i still know the F*ing rules, kids-
and i spit out a sh!t-hot rabbit! rabbit!
....just in case.
i want all that good fortune,
and that's no joke.
it's the year of the fire monkey,
and honestly, that feels a little bit bittersweet to your boy-
one the one hand-i LOVE fire,
but,
on the other- i HATE monkeys.
damn.
i s'pose i'll just have to make do with some treats.
i ca handle that, with or without a monkeyshining influence.
check the teleport:

wooooord!
i'm on that gok jai jauns.
that's what's up.
i gok they, and i'll share they, if you'd like one.
are they dumplings?
kinda.
are they empanadas?
basically.
are they both, and neither, but actually cookies?
they most certainly are,
and they are delicious, to boot.
we've got browned up flavor-activated sesame seeds lacing up the layers
of that buttery sugary pastry dough.
also,
i splished a splat of vanilla in there, because i'm a non-traditionalist,
by virtue of veganism in the first place, and contrarian tendencies in the second.
it tastes great, and it doesn't detract from the sweet sesame sexxxiness at all.
i chilled that out for half an hour,
and preheated the oven to 350 F.
guys,
i used a cup and a half of flour, a quarter cup of sugar, two tablespoons of sesame seeds,
a pinch of salt, a stick's worth of butterishness,
and an egg's worth of replacer, plus a tablespoon of coooold water,
all together in the food processor, to pulp that dough into what's really 'hood.
hmmmm.
it's almost a recipe, check that out.
i cut circles from the thinly rolled aftermath with a crinkle-edged ravioli cutter,
and filled each with a tablespoon of secret sauce, son!
okay.
it's not actually a secret.
i took a big ol' handful of roasted peanuts,
a generous punch of toasted coconut, two more tablespoons of toasted sesame seeds,
some powdered sugar, and a dribble of vanilla,
and pureed it into buttery ball of smoosh.
(i even added a little peanut butter, and a bit more sugar after that, spoonie-stir style)
the rest seems evident, right?
fold, crimp, glaze with cornstarch and soymilk and powdered sugar,
for a crispy coat on the outside of each little plumpy dumpler....
and then, when they cooled off from being super hot, after like twenty minutes in the oven?
crema de coco, and confectioners sugar, to further glaze 'em,
before a bnlast of toasted sesame seed sprankles took 'em up to eleven.
yeah!!!
i got that lucky cat in there,
i got that bright red background business poppin' off.
i'm lookin' for goodie goodness wherever i can garner it.
that's for serious.
and i'm tellin' you guys,
my chinese new year's resolution.,
my tet offensive,
my eumnyeok seollal of super soulful sincerity,
is to find way to fold more fulfilling non-food magic into my life.
it's harder than it sounds,
but since my preferred method of interacting with the world is mortal combat,
i think i'm prepared to pursue my goals in the grisly, ghoulish grind i'm accustomed to.
*
it's that new new.
it's today/tonight.
it's  ugly.
it's gonna snow.
it's dope anyway.
am i making dumplings?
maybe.
am i psyched even if i just have toast for dinner?
sure.
it's all really happening,
and it's new hottness as far as my senses can detect in every direction;
never quiet, never soft.....

pie!!!!

neighbors,
once in a while i make some seriously expert sh!t.
like,
even more so than usual,
by virtue of it being bigger and better than my everyday doings.
y'know?
it's kitchen wizardry, and we all can assume that not every spell is a world-shaker;
however,
that just accentuates the activated excellence of the ones that are.
for real.
some flavors just lend themselves to supreme dopeness.
that's the truth.
chocolate and peanut butter were made to touch each others' parts,
and when they do?
....it's F*ing beautiful.
word up.
check the big-action-type teleport:

BAAAAM!
cocoa-laced oatmeal graham cracker crust.
crumbly, but thick, and firm, but not too crawnchy.
it's got the texture spectrum covered, kids,
because there's smooth jauns everywhere else.
seriously.
chocolate peanut butter creme?!
yeah!
half a package of vegan creamchee',
some drained firm tofu, a whole lotta scoops of peanut butter,
ka-powdered sugar, cocoa, vanilla, a pinch of salt, a slap of tapioca,
and so many melted chocolate chips.......
it's dense, duders. don't even think it's light and fluffy.
no way.
it's got the thickness, and that's precisely what makes it so good.
chocolate peanut butteriness should be burly,
because it's a mutha-flippin' man's treat.
haha.
i put some unchocolatized peanut butter creme on top,
because variety is kinda nice,
and then i activated that with a shiny skin of dark chocolate ganache.
expert!
i mean it, the flavors and the textures and the tastes and the looks are all poppin',
and an all-synced-up sexy dessert does something special to my senses.
uh-huh.....i feel good.
and i feel better and better the more i eat.
plus,
there's some of that super smooth chocolate frosting,
AND then more of the same,
but with peanut butter blended in, encircling the edges,
for even MORE flavor and fun for our flappin' jacks!
you know the drill, don'tcha?
too much is the right amount.
that's the only way to get fresh in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
rules is (still) rules, after all.
***********
every day is full.
i don't think i realized the full and lasting implications of my huggable troublemaker.,
constable crabtree coming to crash at my place
for the next foreseeable decade and a half.
the thing is,
he keeps me busy,
in all the empty spaces where real life friends are supposed to be,
but,
unlike my imaginary friends,
he also keeps me from accomplishing anything at all.
he's got a system,
and it involves F*ing with sh!t he shouldn't,
and literally doing nothing else BUT that.
ummmmm. mmhmm.
it's a lot of fun,
but only if your idea of fun is chasing a chewing chump through
all the nooks, crannies, closets, and cabinets of a big old house.
then again,
if that's not your thing,
you'll be having a terrible night, every night.
trust me on that.
i could be doing something other than wrestling a wriggling warrior dog,
but i s'pose i got what i deserved.
i mean,
he's not a stoopid goldendoodle.
i would never,
because doodle-dogs are pure bullsh!t, and that's a fact.
terrible terrorist terriers are my jammie jam.
everything else is easy,
and easy isn't allowed on the premises.
be smart, but work smarter, and way harder,
because the harder way IS the smarter way,
even if your dog is a little bit intentionally dumb.
it's all really happening,
at 3:30a.m., in this case.
sleep is the cousin of death,
and i'm fixin' to make like kissing cousins with both if this keeps up;
never quiet, never soft.....

chocolate cake.

chocolate is probably good for you?
i'd like to think so.
what?
no.
not because of some secret nutrients or whatever,
just because it's pretty flippin' dope, and it tastes really great,
so it's got to be doing something good,
because every time i put it in my face, i feel better.
no science, duders,
just tastebuds.
that's what i'm basing my hypothesis on.
i'm always down to run a few tests.
i mean,
information is one of my favorite things.
and collecting firsthand info is the very best way to learn.
right now, i'm learning a lot about eating a bunch of chocolate.
is it good?
yes?
....for me?
maybe.
i'm gonna be busy collecting a whole lot more data for a while longer,
for sure.
-
neighbors,
when i'm baking up some treats, y'know what i'm thinking about?
nothing!
nope.
nothing at all,
i'm just letting my scoops spoons and spatulas span time,
in the interest of creative meditation.
it doesn't work when i'm cooking.
probably because i've got too many pots going at once,
or possibly because open flames lure in my barbarian inner self,
and my infinite nature is incited by the ignition of inflammable intuition?
that's be cool.
anyway,
sometimes,
i just want a chocolate cake.
the thing is,
i can do that,
and i do that.
this is what happens when i make that happen:

yum.
i'll tell you, friends-
there is not all that much cocoa in the batter,
but,
there IS a whole bunch of shaved chocolate.
yeah.
it makes it much much lighter,
in color and texture,
and that was a nice little surprise.
plus,
the chocolate is extra melty,
so the inside had little banana bread specks,
only, it's chocolate, not fruit, and that's expert!
so, i had a light, tight, crumb,
which is usually pretty good news.
and on top of that, i whipped up an insanely light, soft chocolate frosting.
it's times like these that i wish i measured the proportions just a little bit better.
seriously,
that frosting is crazy soft, and just this side of airy.
it melts as soon as it hits your tongue.
i love that.
i'm sure i'll be making batches of brown blops, just to attempt to recreate this topping.
damn.
it's good.
but i couldn't it alone.
i never can.
too much is the right amount,
and if i wasn't overdoing it,
i think i'd feel like a lazy little wimp-A* baby.
and i can't have that here in the muy fuerte and molto hot fuego of my undoubtably dope
redoubt of really real rural (self)righteousness.
y'feel me?
we do MORE, no matter what.
rules is rules,
and the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress has a pretty firm code of conduct for the kitchen.
word up.
so,
there's cocoa dust all over the top,
for a little bit of exxxtra chocolaty hottness,
and cookie crumbly sprankles,
for a little toothsome touch of crawnch in every bite.
yuuuuup.
if i can't leave well enough alone, does that make me unwell?
well, here's to hoping chocolate really IS good for me, then.
ha.
-
i'm not a writer, i just type a lot.
i'm not a baker, i just make treats.
i'm sayin'-
if you don't get paid, then it's not what you are, it's just what you DO.
and i do what i do, only, it doesn't get me anywhere.
i'm certain the name for that is hobbies, kids.
that's what i've got.
a hobby habit.
i take it all too seriously, because that's my way,
but if it ain't about those movie checks, it's a little less real.
besides, i thought hobbies were supposed to be fun?
this compulsion to create, this revulsion at resting,
this burning fiery furnace of driving forces keeps me up at night,
and wakes me up with go-go juiciness before everybody else.
you'd think i'd be getting ahead,
but i'm just getting fat.
it's all really happening.
i'm going to need more chocolate;
never quiet, never soft.....

no green olives.

a meatless moroccan munch-up?
yeah.
i don't mind if i do.
neighbors,
we couldn't b!tch out on world cuisine wednesday,
especially not on a snowy/rainy wintry mix-up of a doo-doo buttery day.
no way.
those kinds of days are the ones when we need something hearty, and spicy,
and stick-to-the-ribbling starchy to warm our hungry little hearts
and our chilly fingers up a whole lot.
mmhmmm.
so,
i decided on moroccan.
why?
because i really wanted little flatbreads.
and that's no joke.
i love a complicated spice blend,
i adore an excess of techniques,
i thrive on an overabundance of pots and pans to wash up afterwards,
and i like variations on a theme.
thus, i got expert on a burly feast, with more of everything,
and everything fully activated with some new new hottness.
check the marrakesh-express-type teleport:

kaBOOOOOMfire!
roasted potatoes, with coriander and shredded onion, and minced garlic,
and g.p.o.p., and chick peas, because baked chick peas are F*ing dope.
that's the truth.
who cares if the 'tatoes are blue?
i freaked it off with what i had,
and whenever there's fanciness afoot, you'd better believe i'm gonna get on it.
...what about that salad?
well, for starters, it's flippin' delicious.
but, as for what's in it-
there's two types of sweet tomatoes, cucumbers, scallions, finely slivered onion,
parsley and cilantro, tarted up with lemon juice, and mellowed out with olive oil.
those were little treats for our faces,
but the big action was even more expert, and even more delicious.
i mean it.
check the teleport:

wu-TANG!
red lentils, coriander, cilantro, carrots, celery, onions and more onions,
and garlic for days, black pepper, whole cumin seeds, paprika, cardamom, cayenne,
leftover hot chilis from my crucial afternoon guac session,
bay leaves for balance, chick peas for manliness, and sweet potatoes for body.
damn.
that's a lotta flavor, and whole lotta fiber, and a big ol' mess, to boot.
all that,
plus stewed tomatoes, and broth, and time, garnished with celery leaves,
and sitting on couscous!!!\
c'mon.
that's what you want if you're smart and cool.
otherwise, you might just be a boring A*-hole,
and that's not invited to sit and sup with warrior poetry in motion.
nope.
but,
if you're still aboard the hot moroccan mealtime train?
oh MAN.
have i got a treat for your face!
teleport:

strips of onions, red ones and sweet ones, a little diced pepper,
butterish and olive oil,
g.p.o.p.,
big slices of garlic by the whole bulbful,
black pepper, and toasted turmeric and toasted cumin,
ginger and more ginger, coriander,
and a whole lot of lemon juice to join all that into a pasty caramelized mass.
add in cilantro and parsley,
and seared seasoned superfirm tofu,
tossed and embellished with slices of fresh lemon,
all in one cast iron cauldron?
wordimus prime.
that cast iron, and a convection oven coupled up to carry the day.
real talk, right there.
i baked it, and it all married and marinated and melded,
and what came out was some new new hottness,
even with my makeshift tagine doing doubletime to make sure we got the big action,
and not the diaper-baby butt-sauce.
plus,
i made those mini flatbread, because i want to enjoy myself,
and really all the rest was just gilding the lily.
i'm here for the bread, bro.
that's what's up.
hahaha.
normally,
that'd get green olives, if my memory serves, which it usually does,
and the internet confirms that's true.
however,
i don't normally have green olives hanging around the house.
i'll eat 'em, i guess,
but i'm not losing my mind without 'em.
i don't think the dish lost a single thing without those foily spoilers in it either.
and really, after all,
i DID have that bread to make up the difference.
*
i love food.
i'll keep saying it.
i repeat myself because true stories don't get old.
i made a whole lot of stuff yesterday,
and all of it will be converted back into energy sooner than later.
if you ain't eatin', you ain't livin', kids.
i'm devouring,
so if we adjust our view proportionatelyu-
i'm not just livin', i'm livin' LARGE;
never quiet, never soft.....

breakfasting.

whenever i get up early,
which is always,
i feel like i should be using those wee small hours,
the ones when nobody else is around,
to get especially busy doing things that nobody else is doing.
y'know?
like,
baking scones.
that's not something everybody does.
i do it,
because i like 'em,
and because that's about the only way i'm gonna get a vegan breakfast treat
into my facehole first thing in the a.m.
that's for sure, and that's for really real.
so,
i took a bunch of butterish,
like, a stick and some change,
and a quarter cup of vegan creamchee',
and a punch of sugar,
a blast of tapioca,
and three cups of whole wheat flour,
and i creamed it all together into a crumbly chunky mess.
then i fired in some cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and allspice,
three quarters of a cup of vanilla soy yogurt,
three quarters of a cup of vanilla almond milk,
a dash of vanilla extract, salt, baking pow-pow and baking soda,
and had myself some dough.
the thing is,
i also added a cup of chopped dried cranberrries,
and a cup of big fat raisins,
and a cup of sliced almonds,
because anybody can have a plain ol' scone,
but experts want the deluxxxurious jauns.
i mean, if i'm already doing it,
i should probably take it to eleven, right?
you know this, man.
mmmhmmmm.
and i folded it,
and i turned it,
and i folded it,
time after time after time times ten or more times after that,
and i had the makings of a flaky, firm, burly, hearty hottness for a cool winter morning.
word.
check the teleport:

yeah!
i rolled it out,
 and cut circles from the pressed and compressed cakiness i'd cultivated.
that's what's up.
biscuits.
breakfast biscuits.
because the scone zone wasn't quite fancy enough.
it's never enough, though, is it?
no way,
and because too much is the right amount,
i beat 'em up with two kinds of nicey-nicely-done icing.
yuuuuup.
cinnamon ginger circles,
and almond stripes.
how good are they?
well,
they look amazing,
at least, they do in my informed and experienced opinion,
but,
they taste megatons more rad than that!
boom.
how many did i munch up?
too many.
which is to say,
precisely as many as i could fit, somewhat uncomfortably, down the hatch,
as quickly as possible.
that's my problem, kids-
i want MORE, always,
but there isn't enough room.
i start my days off super-full,
and try to fit everything else in edgewise.
spare time is something i have only the very fuzziest, foggiest recollection of.
there's too much to do, at all times,
and only half of it ever gets done.
at least i've got fruit and nuts and cakey, flaky breads to munch on
while i run around all day.
cooking and baking and making stuff up.
that's my favorite part.
also,
listing things.
i really like doing that, too.
oh,
and adjectives.
i F*ing love those.
and eating.
eating copious quantities of indulgent and delicious delicacies.
that's my perfect day,
add in some art, some music, some reading, some dog walking,
and maybe some actual exercise?
just give me a few more hours.
like, a 27 hour day,
and i'll be in good stead-
until then,
it's more, and more, and more,
but not quite enough,
not yet;
never quiet, never soft.....

guapo guacamole.

i just think i should talk a little more about my guacamole.
neighbors!
it's so flippin' good that we ate a whole bowl of it,
just because we had enough chips to do so.
mmhmmm.
i even got the highest praise from ampy-d,
who just happens to be a well-known guac'afficionado,
and connoisseur of custom green chunky jauns.
that's real.
she said this one, this time, in it's own F*ing full effect,
with full-frontal-and-centered sensual succulence,
was the best i've ever made in my whole life.
that's high praise from a hard-to-impress self-possessed
and obsessed guacamole enthusiast,
especially considering shes actually able to say she's well and truly had a taste
of every guacamole i've ever made.
word up.
i really believe it's the lemon AND lime that activates it.
also, the slivered scallion greens don't hurt.
friends,
check the chunky-junk-type teleport:

wet blops,
with those oxidation-defying de-brownifying pits still sittin' pretty.
yup.
my slow and steady, once-a-weekly, no-weak-sauce warpath
has put me right on track to rush and rush and attack the stacks of vegetables
that add up to a handsome bucket of barbarian fatty-boombattie flavor!
expert!
so,
what i mean is-
i think i'm getting the gist,
and i'm getting the grist calibrated to squish the balance of smooth and lumpy
into a superior dippin' doo-doo butter in shades of chartreuse.
green bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, red chili pepper, all minced up mini style,
chopped cilantro, three cloves of crushed raw garlic, half a red onion, diced,
a few shredded scallion tops, a dash of g.p.o.p., black pepper, and salt,
all stirred together with three avocados mashed throughout,
and then a generous lemony juice gush,
and a lot of limey splashing- here, there, and everywhere else.
i'm not saying you shouldn't put tomatoes in yours.
i am saying that the lemon adds the acis, without the gross splat of a little red mess.
besides,
there's red onions and red peppers,
and that's plenty of color, and crunch, but no blarpity bloppage.
real talk.
*
guacamole for lunch.
that's the way we munched up our wednesday together.
i think it was the right choice.
my little buddy, crabtree, was all fired up, all damned day long,
and my bestest gal was, too.
he was chasing the vacuum,
she was vacuuming the rooms,
and they were racing, in succession,
throughout the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress for most of the rainiest day off
we've had together since the last one we had off together.
nature forces us to span time in close quarters,
and there's no fighting it, kids,
because nature wins.
that's the law of nature,
and laws are even stricter than rules.
wow.
wet days, and icy roads, and groceries by the big bagful-
that's what we had to work with.
it doesn't matter what ingredients, what tools, what oven, what-ever-
expert recognize expert,
and really realness does what it does.
that's exactly what we did.
and i for one, am grateful for the time i have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....

self-absorption or selfie dispersal?

is it narcissism or an inverse of narcolepsy?
insomnia and a steady diet of deformis aeternum
have got me giving myself the finger,
but i'm using it to draw conclusions, allusions, illusions, and robots
all over my whole F*ing face.
you know what's up, neighbors.
i do this thing,
and apparently, i do it a whole lot.
check the stay-ugly-stay-dope-type teleport:





























WAAAAAAAAAARIO!!!!!



















oh, c'mon.
we agree that too much is the right amount.
so how could i be expected to do anything less?
i don't know what y'all are busy doing with snapchat,
probably taking pictures of your dog,
or movies of your kid,
and hey,
that's cool, too.
i'm over here activating some other other sh!t, though.
yes,
it's always my face.
yes.
i know i'm not exactly improving it.
yes.
i could be doing something else.
the thing of it is-
i've got three kinds of treats in the oven, or in the queue to be baked.
when the temperature inside the hotbox is fired up,
and the food within is being alchemically altered into something expert,
i've got a minute to make the magic happen.
....and i doo-doo that freaky sh!t,
because old and busted is inevitable,
but weird is a choice.
i always choose the weird,
i always choose the wrench,
and i always overdo it all.
that's how wednesday starts in the woodsly goodness;
never quiet, never soft.....

BING, again.

the white mountainous woodsly goodness of northern new hampshire
has no idea what sort of echoing repetition is ringing off of the granite giants,
and resonating in the river valleys,
while eternity unfolds along the finite folds of spirit and memory,
written in warrior poetry from a marginally more southerly clime.
that's no joke, jerks.
today is the day. and it's a big one, for this particular berserker barbarian battle-beastly
bard of true stories, gloriously laborious litanies, and the hardest of styles.
that's right.
it's today that turns the tide, and turns the page on yet another 'nother other new
intense extensive expansive expensive span of time and place.
mmhmmm.
once again,
it's groundhog day.
and that's the day i moved here.
not only that,
but this is the fourteenth one, in a row,
that's been activated by my presence of mind,
and the prescient presence that's mine all mine,
and the present is also mine,
because all that has passed has been surpassed by the passage of time.
y'know?
i'm still here.
that's weird enough as it is,
but,
what's more,
i'm even more deeply imbedded in the really real really rural Folk Life
that i chased after for so long before i brought myself to these hills.
that's a thing.
it took a heck of a long time,
and it took even more money,
and a whole hot mess of bad ideas and worse deeds,
but,
this i'm pretty sure i'm in the place i'm supposed to be.
and for the record?
it's NOT cold out there today.
get it?
no?
oh.
i guess all this moisture coming up from the gulf pushed off to the east,
and hit altoona, instead.
.....still nothing?
oh, c'mon!
well, anyway, ned ryerson,
it's unseasonably temperate,
and the snow is fading fast from the floor of the forest.
yep.
a lot of brown is creeping out from the icy blanket of bullsh!t
that's kept it suppressed for all of this year to date.
it's not prettier, but it's less slippery.
i'll take surefooted and ugly over treacherously beautiful every time.
that's real talk for real times.
what's better than than that?
i've got a bigger better house, a smarter, cooler dog,
and a woman who wants to be a part of it all.
it only took fourteen years,
so i think ol' punxsutawney phil would be proud.
*
this is it.
the same sort of sh!t,
only,
slightly older,
a little warmer,
and with way more space to expand.
over and over and over and over again and agin,
it's all really happening,
here,
in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
surrounded by woodsly goodness.
i am grateful, as ever, for the time i have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....

treats and treatises...

rabbit! rabbit!
that's right.
you know how i start my month off?
yeah.
with treats.
why?
because treats are great.
you better believe it.
and y'know what else?
i made a batch of super expert bananarama blocks,
and i activated them with all sorts of extras.
banana bread is good all on it's own,
but too much is the right amount,
so,
i had to put MORE in there.
check the first-of-the-month-type teleport:

kaBOOM!
what we've got here are oatmeal coconut chocolate chip bars, bros.
with cinnamon icing stripes,
AND chocolate drizzle jauns.
the're soft.
they're hearty.
they're dope.
and they're all for me.
ha.
i'm kidding, you can have one,
if you want one,
but you'll have to some and get it.
*
three years.
that's how long i've been occupying the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress by myself.
uh-huh.
today is the day that it all really happened,
and i had to grow up a whole bunch,
because of one big fat quitter...
and for that,
all these long-and-short years later,
i'm grateful.
nothing teaches you a tougher and longer-lasting lesson more than shouldering
both halves of a heavy burden without the help you've been promised.
i'll tell you what-
promise breakers are the best thing that's ever happened to me.
real talk.
now,
i won't rely on anybody else,
-and though i sure as sh!t appreciate the heck outta help when i get it,
i don't expect any-
so i'm not butt-hurt when it doesn't happen.
left to my own designs and devices,
this massive mansion has become more expert than ever,
and i'll bet it'll only be bigger and more intense and fuller
and even more fresh from here on out.
three years later,
i'm aware of the time that has been spanned,
and i'm aware of how much more elite my treats are, too.
ha!
banana bombs,
and chocolate stripes,
and coconut butt-blasts.
this is What Is,
and i think it's all interlocking the way it's supposed to,
and a bigger and better picture is revealing itself to anyone who cares to see it;
never quiet, never soft.....

rabbit!rabbbbbit!

i said it,
because that's what i do.
yeah.
the magic mantra,
the special speakeasy,
the conjuring consonants that constantly accompany the turn of the calendar.
you know what's up, by now,
and if not, i don't know where you went wrong,
but you are clearly pretty effed up.
it's the first of the month, neighbors,
and what do we do when it's the first of the month?
that's right.
we say the syllables that spell out a spell of ensorcellment,
because we doo-doo that cultivated coincidence style of sh!t.
c'mon, man,
get with it.
two bunnies, a pair of hares, a tandem of lop-eared lagomporphs,
you get it, you've got it, so i hope you did it.
what?
yes.
that's the stuff:
rabbit! rabbit!
pure magic, kids.
from pursed lips, at the cusp of wakefulness,
the very first thing that spits out from my face,
each and every first day of each and every month,
in order to attract good fortune and hot fire from the future,
live and direct to the unfolding and developing plots and schemes of the here and now.
mmmhmmm.
rules is rules,
and that's a thing.
and that's no joke.
speaking of hot fire,
how do we say goodbye to january?
and to times past, all of which ended on the 31st?
we burn things.
c'mon.
that's always the best way to move forward,
with burnt bridges and scorched earth and purification by pyre.
word up.
check the teleport:

i mean,
that IS lookin' pretty expert, right?
duders, i know!
my own personal barbarian henges cast long shadows on even the darkest nights.
i've got my systems,
i've got my ways and means,
and i've got standing stones and circles for sending sparks up into the sky,
without turning the woodsly goodness into a towering inferno this invierno.
yup.
what was i burning this time?
a lot of long-standing spent grass,
and a ton of pizza boxes:

hahahaha.
yeah.
i eat a lot of pizza,
and ampy d brings home an awful lot of leftovers.
i'm not saying she should power down more slices,
i'm just saying she should order better toppings, so i can finish what she started.
then again,
what would i have lit last evening if not for the lasting legacy of those leftovers?
secret purposes are at work here,
*
today is the day,
and there's bound to be a whole lot of it.
i've got valentine's plans to make,
and it's never too early to get crackin' on lovey-dovey doo-doo doings, duders.
that's for serious.
in the meantime,
i'm tattooing a whole lot of skulls today, all day,
and if that's not a precursor to romance,
well,
then what the F* is?
the first day is always the hardest;
never quiet, never soft.....