equinox!!!

what do we do when it's a planetary shift in season?
when the rotational axis has moved enough to affect the light
and the weather,
and the whole entire effing earth in a noticeable way,
marking the transitional halfway point between brightest and darkest?
oh.
i thought you knew about what's up.
neighbors,
we have a fire.
a raging blaze,
a barbarian bon jauns,
and we burn away all the old busted overwinter grasses,
and everything else that's laying around.
OBviously.
check the equinox-type teleport:

yeah!!
a moment later,
all those leaves laying around the pit simultaneously combusted.
ummmmm.
i might've blackened the whole lawn a little
with a poorly-planned fuel distribution situation.
uh-huh.
widespread fuego, but very little panic, ensued.
there's something about scorched-earth enders game embers coursing along
the gardens of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress that makes a man
forget to take a picture,
especially is that man is stamping out wildfires with his shoes.
hahaha.
yep.
that's a thing.
i was impressed that i lit the initial pile into a pyre by huffing and puffing a
double-maduro doo-doo seath-stump into the sheaf on top.
what?
ah.
i used a cigar stub to get it started:

nice.
so,
it's spring.
and me and my dog celebrated by the blaze,
until the smoke and cinders drove him indoors,
while i wild-thing stomped through what was left.
here's a little thing about the woodsly goodness, though.
spring doesn't mean a F*ing thing.
nope.
not at all.
in fact,
if you're wondering who came out ahead in the vernal flip-flop,
well,
then i'd have to remind you that when it comes to victories,
nature wins.
check the spring-teleport:

SIKE!!
yeah.
we're not out of the woods, yet.
actually,
we're never out of the woods.
for crying out loud,
this whole dang place is the woods.
today we're in the cold wet wintry north woods,
and there's ice and snow and flakes and drops and not much else.
i'll be working, just like always, because that's what i DO.
at least i can't see the char on my lawn anymore.
mmhmm.
we rep a hard style,
and that's our only style;
never quiet, never soft.....

lateness.

somehow,
i forgot to tell all y'all about some chocolate coconut hottness.
sorry about that.
anyway,
check the teleport:

right?!
chocolate coconut tart-shaped brownie-style cake,
baked up for a little exxtra-rich somethin'-somethin'
during those less-rewarding moments of tattzappin' man-blastin'.
ummmm, yeah.
cocoa, and ground chocolate, by the quarter cup,
and coconut sugar in a halfsie,
with another 'nother halfsie of dark brown jauns, too-
a pinch of salt;
a cuppa coconut flour and a cuppa coconut flakes;
a half a cuppa coconut oil;
a cuppa regular ol' awesome all-purpose flour;
all of that,
softened up with a cup of coconut milk,
a teaspoon or two and half of vanilla,
plus the usual baking soda/powder spoonfuls,
and a deep tart pan waiting around for the thick batter to get busy with it.
i doo-doo that cakey sh!t.
on it's own,
it would've been pretty damned tasty.
for realsies, all the flavors are already there,
the thing is, too much is the right amount,
so i couldn't and i wouldn't leave it alone.
nope.
i whipped up some chocolate frosting,
and it was the lightest, and the fluffiest, and the chocolatiest.
first, i slathered on a layer to cement the surface,
then i swirled the heck outta the perimeter, a couple times,
concentric circles of sugary sweetness....
but,
in between, i laid down a heavy dose of coconut flake sprankles.
yup.
i had to do it.
rules is rules after all.
i guess i was so busy being a busy bee,
what with spring happening so hard yesterday,
this tasty treat sort of slipped away from real-life documentation.
better late than never, sometimes, and this is one of 'em.
i LOVE frosting.
i do.
seriously, even though i've been vegan for two decades,
i just can't hang out with lame treats.
they didn't grow on me,
i don't use beets of whatever to make raw stuff.....
it's just not my thing, kids.
i like TREATS.
real ones,
and i make what i want to eat,
because i doubt very much that anyone else is gonna.
if you make the treats that you like,
that's exactly what you get,
and if nobody but you likes that freaky sht,
that just means even MORE for you.
smart;
never quiet, never soft.....

this guy.

we sing in the car.

and sometimes,
just i sing, and he hates it.

awwwwwwww.
i am not a natural at vocal heroics,
and he is unafraid to remind me of that truth.
neighbors,
i still have this dirty dog,
even though he's SUCH a pain in the b-hole!
wow.
i mean,
yeah, sure, i love him and sh!t,
but that doesn't really mean all that much, does it?
not in my experience.
real talk.
however,
even without sleep,
and even with tiny gnaw marks on all my shoes,
and one hundred percent of the crackery wicker baskets
that collect the odds, ends, curious, and relics
within the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress all missing one corner apiece,
i keep this brutal little bullet-headed sharkagator around.
what can i say?
crabtree is a good little dude,
even though he's a bad little boy.
huh?
oh.
there's no contradiction...
he's both.
usually at the same time.
when he's sweet, he's saccharine hyperglycemic insulin-attack-level sweet,
and when he's being a pill,
he's the biggest, bitterest, hardest-to-swallow wallop of wild-hearted war and woe.
in other words,
he's exactly what you'd expect a worthy warrior poet to be out walking with.
and walk we do.
there're hikes on hikes to be trekked,
and woodsly goodnesses to explored,
and streams to sip from,
and so many outcroppings for us to urinate on.
yeah.
peeing is a big part of our time together.
he's old enough now to want to let the denizens of the mountain realm know that he's
tagged all the fresh spots with a quick squirt of liquified olfactory graffiti.
yup.
peepee dog walks, for hours, is what i'm into these days.
me and my dog are friends,
and my dog and i are foes.
that's my standard interaction set with everyone,
so i'm very happy he's on board,
and a ready and willing part of the team;
never quiet, never soft..... 

SPRING!!!

duders!
today is THE day.
the equinox.
the boomfire hot fire equidistant day and nightly half and half quarter.
yuuuuuuup.
it's spring.
like, right now.
and that's expert.
it is.
because winter is a real bastard-A* sunovab!tch,
and now it's time for getting all rebirthy an' that.
also,
today is my ma's berfday.
so,
happy berfday, ma!
i made something special to celebrate the dual funtime importance of
this 12/12 split-shift cosmic parallax ley-line convergence resurgence.
of course i did, y'know?
because that's what i do,
and i doo-doo what i do whenever the need arises,
which just happens to happen a whole lot in the month of march.
word up.
i guess you should probably just check the teleport, neighbors:

wooooooooooohooooooo.
lemon on lemon on lemon!
i got some custom lemony lemon cupcakes,
with the mandatory mass quantities of zest and oil and extract and juice,
and i loaded them down with lemon frosting,
in replendent two-tone-type tonal togetherness,
and when the big ol' whipped soft goobieblop on top set itself up for excellence,
i activated it a little bitty baby bit more
with a quick and easy lemon shortbread flower accent.
guys,
that's a whole lot of cakey hottness for the spring break in the storm, if you feel me-
but,
too much is the right amount,
so i HAD to take it to eleven
and fire 'em up with some dark and light sunshiny yellow sugar sprankles.
that's no joke.
expert vegan treats for your face;
that's what i've got.
happy berfday wishes;
that's what i'm making.
big hot fires;
that's the plan for this evening.
ceremonies and occasions and celebrations and commemorative action.
i participate in what's poppin',
and i don't take it easy, ever.
*
also,
when i'm up crazy early with werewolfen pregame berserker fury,
and crabtree's ancestral canine lycanthropic DNA has got his blood up as well,
which in turn makes it damned certain neither of us is getting any rest,
i have to do something,
and it can't require complete concentration,
since the terrorist terrier is sure to undermine any attempts at undistracted focus.
what do i do when i've got a little less sleep than usual?
i make the deluxe-prep homeboyfries for breakfast.
mmmhmmm.
check-the halfway-point-type teleport:

mini cubies of red-skin white flesh and double-yellow 'tatoes,
oven F*ing roasted for a while,
to get 'em soft, but also crispy,
and also to seal in any nutrients that a parboil might would've washed away.
ha.
by the time it's time for minced sweet onion, g.p.o.p., black peps, and paprika,
those 'tatoes are already elite,
and we're just adding excess fire to the four-alarm blazing rage-fueled inferno.
actually,
once i had the whole shootin' match in the bag,
i even blitzed those baby-b!tches with a zippin' dose of cayenne.
uh-huh.
i mean, it's spring, man.
let's spice it up a little.
yeah!
-
it's not that warm,
it's not that bright,
and it's not that easy, for a sunday-
in fact, all told. despite today being the big day,
it's still just as much hard style as it is smooth sailing.
the blue light of the blossoming moon is surely going to be the spark
that starts the powderkegs bursting,
and by tomorrow,
a barbarian blowout is all that there's gonna be available to us.
i'm ready.
i'm willing.
i'm able;
it's all really happening,
and i'm starched up, and sugar-high in anticipation of the day's events;
never quiet, never soft.....

chunkin'.

i don't get down with cherry flavor.
nope.
cherry flavored stuff is almost always kind of gross.
what i mean is-
candy, soda, manufactured stuffs of that nature,
all of it's got that weird medicine taste,
and it's always way too red.
however,
real-life flavorful ACTUAL cherries?
yeah.
those are cool.
i like to get activated by new things,
so i worked up a big ol' batch of from-scratch cookies,
and i used some tart sweetened dried cherries inside.
neighbors,
chocolate and cherries get molto fresh together.
check the teleport:

wow!
it's no secret that i love cookies.
i mean, if it's a treat,
i'm usually pretty much all about it.
it's just that these treats seem so adult.
uh-huh.
the taste is powerful, but in no way overpowering.
the dark brown sugary buttery cookie taste fades to chocolate,
and that's expert,
but then the chocolate gives way to sweet, fruity new hottness,
and that's even more expert,
and then,
everybody's flavor touches everybody elses',
and the whole things melts into a decadent orgiastic tongue-wrestling match,
where we all leave with the title.
daaaaaaaaaaaamn.
that's some cookie.
the ganache drizzle swirls, with that wavy new pattern jauns?
i think it looks sophisticated.
do you?
oh.
well,
what about the red and gold sugar sprankles?
yeah.
it's a subtle touch,
but it's a good one, for sure.
guys,
here's how it all really happens:
half a cup of butterish;
a 1/4 tsp. salt;
a cup of dark brown sugar;
two teaspoons of vanilla;
(cream all that together)
add a half a cup of applesauce;
then sift in two and a half cups of flour;
a tsp of baking soda;
a tsp of baking powpowder;
to which you fire up 6oz of chocolate chips;
and a cup of chopped dried cherries.....
how simple is that??!
that doughski gets rolled into golf balls,
the balls in turn get pressed flat,
and with proper spacing on a sheet designed for that oven,
they all get baked together for 13 minutes at 375F.......
that's actually all there is to it.
nice.
*
i bake because it puts the finished product into clear focus.
success is edible, visible, tangible, and non-debatable.
tattoos are so subjective by comparison.
seriously.
as a matter of routine,
i get clients who want an eight hour tattoo,
done in three hours,
on a one hour budget.
i hate to be the big bad wolf in those scenarios,
but i feel like i can't let that house of straw stand.
y'know?
i can do three things about that situation:
i can give you the sexiest possible one-hour's-worth-budget tattoo.
i can give you a three hour version of the eight hour marathon
that you thought, based on limited experience, and limitless self-absorbed optimism,
should only take a quick little minute to bang out....
or,
i can do it right, over time, and we'll create the big action together
over multiple sessions of concentrated committed work.
more often than not,
up in this remote woodsly realm,
the choice falls directly between the first two options,
based on time, detemination, financial concerns,
and the need for instant gratification/on-demand settle-for satisfaction.
yikes!
baking, on the other hand, is a unilateral success story.
i decide what i'm making,
and i make it,
and it takes as long as it takes, and it tastes like what i want to be in it.
there's no collaboration,
just elaboration on my very own ideas.
and that require no creative input or financial backing by others.
mmmmm.
yeah, friends-
that's just SO F*ing excellent.
i bake to bring myself back to the creative process,
rather than the troubleshooting troublemaking trials
of compromise and cooperation that comprise the waking workweek of
weak sauce and movie checks.
i bring my cookies to work,
not to share with others so much as to remind myself that there IS a time
and a place where the worthy warrior poetry of will and effort gets results.
it's all really still unfolding,
the ups and downs and ins and outs of this secret universal plan.
the story isn't getting less complicated,
but the characters are developing accordingly;
never quiet, never soft.....

boily d

celebrating is essential, neighbors.

yeah.

i said it.

it's an important part of the process.

y'know?

like,

the seldom-seen sweet spots in between the bitter battles an' that.

as always, 

us folks up here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress center the focus of our fetes

on big ol' festive flotillas of food.

yep.

the social aspect of mixing with all the other animals is highly overrated,

when viewed against the adjusted increase in portions when nobody is around but us.

that shark-gluttony gets us every time, guys.

it does.

that old-timey savage stormswept bite-and-swallow activation,

in big concentric spiraling circles?

expert. 

we're surrounding ourselves with frenzied feeding fury,

and ferocious foodstuff destruction.

even on super-irish day, when all y'all are celebrating our favorite italian,

santo pasquale,

and getting lit up on lager or whatever,

we're still steady reppin' that fattie-boombattie bellyhole business

and abstaining from the partying while we celebrate-

instead putting all the energy towards eating something rad.

what are we eating that makes us excited?

we're eating that irish sh!t, obviously.

check the slainte-type teleport:

what do we do when it's time to do it to it?

we bring out a big ol' pot,

and get it bubblin' with that boiled d.

why?

because rules is rules.

friends,

we got small red potatoes, skins ON;

we got big white boiling onions, skins off;

we got parsnips, carrots, and purple-top turnips, peeled and chopped;

horseradish dijon, 

red wine vinegar,

minced garlic,

and fake beer broth.

what?!

yea.

non-alcoholic brewskis, obvi.

that's how we doo-doo those upgraded semi-traditional jauns,

while still keeping it molto real on the manly mantra of worthy warrior poetry-

it's okay not to drink,

but it's not okay to have sh!tty boiled-d.

we balanced the scales to within a microgram of perfection,\

and that bowlful of burliness is testament to that.

check the not-delicious-normally-type teleport:

ahhhhhhh.

and it's not even irish.

awwwwwww.

still, this was the red branch boil broth that brought the noise,

and i s'pose there's something to be said for making tastiness out of lameness.

did i float that cabbage wedge in there, too?

of course i did.

what am i?

an amateur?

no way.

what?

ha.

as a a matter of fact,

that IS my famous black tea soda bread.

so soft, so moist, so rich and righteous,

and a slab with a pat of buttery spread on it 

has all the right moves in all the right places.

mmm.

beats raisins and caraway seeds by a winding irish mile.

hmm?

i dunno if collards and corned tofu is considered traditional.

i do know that it is considered delicious by everyone who had some.

yup.

both of us.

aw.

the thing is, friends-

all of that is sufficient, if you're not prepared to really get it rockin'.

however,

since we are the shazamrockin'est ones,

there's also individual tofu pot pies, as well.

YEAH!!

flaky pastry,

tofu, celery, carrots, onions, parsley, parsnips, peas, and potatoes,

with sage, thyme, rosemary, nootch, g.p.o.p., white vinegar,

and a lot of crackin' black pepper.

all of that.

in the pots,

covered in gravy, and sealed shut with another shamrock-slotted slap

of pastry piecrust.

and all of it,

all over again,

gets that good gooey gloppy sloppy homemade gravy goodness.

why?

because too much is the right amount.

that's that real real.

***********

i wore all green.

mmhmmm.

i do that.

just like i wore all red on february 14th.

i've got team spirit, y'all.

and like i already said,

i celebrate.

i had on the color match blast of haberdashed hottness,

from my socks and shoes way way up to my tamersham on top-

with pants and underpants and shirts on shirts in between-

because i'm not some chump-change weak-sauce waterbaby,

and my personal style, while always considered a hard one,

is still  F*ing impeccably well-appointed.
i don't give any actual sh!ts about traditional st. patrick's day doings.
not one teeny tiny little bit.
but,
i do love to make a big deal in a way that makes the day my own.
as long as we're celebrating, i certainly want in.
just, not the way the doo-doo buttery parade-goers go after it.
real talk.

i'm about making the most of the minutiae that most overlook.

the more you focus on details, the bigger the big picture gets.

that's no joke.

it's all really happening-

all of it,

from the treats and eats to the walks in the streets,

i am grateful for the small-scale big world i've carved out 

of the hard and cold granite mountains, 

for myself, for my peoples, for everybody.

this is it;

never quiet, never soft.....

kiss me.

happy saint paddy's day, duders!!
before all y'all get all sorts of exxxtra-stooopid with green beers,
and puking piles of peeled potatoes out yer taterholes,
let's take a quick second to remember one thing:
it's okay not to drink.
in fact,
it's a little bit more than just okay-
it's pretty F*ing expert.
yup.
don't get me wrong,
even though i'm 0% irish,
i'm still wearing molto green,
letting my eyes do some smiling,
blarney stoning my glib limerickin' tongue,
and crushing some boiled d(inner);
i'm just doo-dooing it soberly,
but not soberly,
as in- not liquored up, but still steady shamrockin' out-
which is great, especially if you understand how definitions work...
ha.
that said,
i made a thing.
check the teleport:

o'mcgawd!
gluten-free weirdie cakiness is in full effect, kids.
uh-huh.
i used rice and oats and millet,
with tapioca and xantham, to firm it up,
plus, white and brown sugars, to keep it sweet,
and when i had everything where i thought it should be,
and the flax-seed binder i whisked together was nice and thick,
i fired it up with some white mountain white girl goodness.
what?
oh.
they LOVE mint chocolate chip.
like, they LOVE-LOVE that sh!t,
and even though there's not one speck of wheat in it,
i'll bet they're gonna love this jammie jam, too.
little mini minty bits, and baby chocolate chips,
and the super-weird sponginess that rice flour imparts,
plus a three tone green zone of vanilla mint frosting swirls,
tsunamied across the entire top,
with just the babiest bit of emerald green big sugar crystal sprankles!
the accent activation is essential,
and that glittery leprechaun hat helps a whole lot with that.
y'like the site-specific placemat?
me too!
guys,
ampy-d isn't any kind of irish, either,,
but we still know about the holiday rules.....
presents for st. paddy's day??
yuuuuuup.
teleport:

we even got each other the same sparkly green gift bag.
awwwwwww.
we make the most of even the least applicable holidays.
after all,
rules is rules,
and too much is the right amount.
friends,
up here in the hallowed halls of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
it's not just the simple things that truly matter.
in fact,
it's all the EVERYthings that all always really matter.
there's no taking it easy,
there is only taking it to eleven.
today is the day for it,
just like every day,
except that today the grass is always greener directly beneath our feet.
huh?
.......no.
it's not contentment,
it's clover and shamrock in honor of the snakeless island in the atlantic.
*
i've got cake.
i've got a full day of work ahead of me.
i've got moves to make,
and time to take,
and a damned dirty dog doing his darnedest to derail all of it.
i guess english bull terriers don't cotton to irish holidays.
who knew the cultural rivalries would extend to canines?
on the ones,
he's being a real sunovab!tch,
and i've already been up forever listening to it.
he HATES big birds.
he does.
so if he so much as hears a woodpecker or a raven outside,
the next hour is ruined.
there's a packed and stacked unkindness perched in the trees,
cackling at the frustrated white gladiator losing his sh!t down below-,
all whilst a pileated knock-knock joke marathon is being performed
to the detriment of me and my morning as well.
nature wins, even when i'm not playing, i guess.
today is sure to be a real treat;
mcnever o'quiet, o'never mcsoft.....

silver bullets

3:16,
a.k.a. stone cold steve austin day,
at least,
that's what it is as far as i'm concerned.
how am i celebrating?
well,
since i don't drink,
a twofer of coors light dousing my dome is out of the question,
so, instead, i think i'll go super-heavyweight,
and get down with some pigging out and gluttoning up on some good eats.
neighbors,
albie 3:16 says i just whooped breakfast's A*.
check the teleport:

daaaaaaaaaaaamn.
bottom line buckwheat barbarian manly mancakes-
which, of course,
have to have that weird butt-yellow color that the bucky wheatens impart-
it's not a normal hue to have, a sort of liver-failure jaundice that seemed appropriate
to the nature of the hard-drinkin' doo-doo buttery doings of our anti-hero.
right?
haha.
anyway, i still freaked 'em off with a little bit of loco coconut,
and a punch of sugary sweetheartedness,
and of course, that real maple syrup.
i'm not some candy-A* rock, if you get where i'm coming from.......
that stone cold stunner scramble is wha's poppin' in the kitchen these days, too.
scallions and vegan bacon, and cilantro and parsley,
with the g.p.o.p. hottness and turmeric temper tantrum you'd expect from us
here in the future primitive primal Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
mmmhmmm.
you always add the extra sprankles,
especially if you understand how self-worth works;
i mean, c'mon,
you deserve the superfancy unnecessariness of a little sexy garnish.
and last, but not least,
i hit up the old village bakery yesterday
specifically to get a loaf of expert bread,
just to exxxtra-thickly slice off a slab of texas (rattlesnake) toast.
i don't need a reason to get fresh with my food,
but when i have one?
yeah.
i take it to eleven,
and i attempt to do it cleverly while i'm at it.
that's how i make my moves....
does that seem like a lot of food for one person?
oh,
maybe you don't know the rules-
too much is the right amount,
and you're more than welcome to come and participate.....
we overdo it,
we bring it hard and fast,
we get pretty damned busy with our big business,
and that's the bottom line,
because albie rock says so;
never  quiet, never soft.....

pie-eyed lunatics.

more pies!
yeah!!
more is better, and pie is good to begin with.
what i needed, yesterday. was pie all day, and all night-
i was low on fuel, physically,
despite doubling down on both my sweetie pies,
because i tattooed my buddy daniel, who came up all the way from virginia,
alllllll flippin' day long, (which i will be doing to him again today)
which kicked my A*,
and probably his A*,
and definitely drained my batteries down to the lowest brightness setting....
what does one do when does what one does?
one must doo-doo that freaky sh!t,
and turn up the oven,
and make some more superfresh turbo hot magic erupt from one's kitchen.
haha.
yep.
i freaked it off on some savory jauns.
i guess i felt obligated to make the most of a punny holiday.
i DO love a cause to celebrate, kids,
and last night i prepared a heavy load of lusciousness for the plate.
check the pi-day-redux-type teleport:

mmmmmmmmmmmhmmmmm!
hand-style pies, with exxxtra-herby seitan an' stuff stuffed inside.
neighbors,
i sauteed green and red onions and carrots and cabbage and celery,
with nootch, and g.p.o.p., and sage and thyme and black pepper,
with the babiest bit of bell pepper, and garlic, and ground mustard...
when that started to soften up,
i threw in all that seitan,
and splashed it all down with a dash of tamari to let it brown itself into caramel heaven.
the hottness requires impressive expenditures of heat,
so you know i had the oven heating itself way way high up.
i mean,
c'mon,
i like my crusts crisp.
happily,
i already had all that leftover dough from the morning,
so the roll-and-fill-and-fold portion of the evening's program
went quickly and smoothly into the oven.
as a side note- i have a margarita glass.
actually,
i have a sh!tty plastic margarita style cup,
which i use to hold my garlic.
OBviously.
why else would i have something so anathema to my whole hard style?
well,
if we're being completely honest,
it's really because i also use it to cut perfect empanada-sized circles when i need 'em.
ha.
the thing of it is, they ARE perfect, and you can see the proof right up above^^^.
with cut and twisted edges, and hearts poked through to let the steam out,
i had myself a very merry meal.
word up.
the potatoes were fancy tricolor fingerlings,
but the prep was molto basic:
they got boiled, gravied, and sprankled.
Das It!
those collards were steam-wilted and oil-seared,
and then in their turn, also activated with that greasy gravy goodness.
essentially, i made foods to put gravy on,
and my gravy situation is genuinely and perpetually satisfying.
i like gravy, i like pies, i like green leafies, and i like 'tatoes.
dinner was a winner,
and although it usually takes a little minute to make,
and only a few seconds to shovel like a raging stormswept savage into my mouth,
the ratio of effort to enjoyment is more than acceptable.
we eat well, here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
better and better all the time, in fact.
it's all really happening,
all this pie, all this prep, all of it, always.
that's kind of the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

PI DAY.

3.14.
today.
today is the day.
and while the rest of the world lists dates in reverse order,
my american calendar says it's PI DAY,
so,
because i sure do love a celebration,
especially of a clever and make-pretendier holiday,
i'm over here doing what i do best-
baking.
uh-huh.
and i've got two kinds of crust,
and two kinds of pie,
and four kinds of berries,
and all sorts of excitement bubbling up through the cookie-cut vents.
that's the truth.
i won't bore you to death, hopefully,
but i will show you what's up.....
check the strawberry-blackberry-raspberry-blueberry-type teleport:

BOOOOOOOOOM!!!!
if you don't use lemon in your berries,
you're sauce is weak, and your pie is leaking out baby-b!tch-sap.
real talk.
berries and lemons are in love,
and they need each other to reach their best and most delicious potential.
knowing that, and encouraging the love they share,
i've got zest, juice, and extract all up in there.
how is it?
it's expert.
don't be dumb.
but,
it's PI DAY right now, neighbors,
and too much is the right amount every day;
mmhmm.
that means that one pie just isn't going to cut it.
and when it comes to cutting it up, or cutting it out,
you know your boy is out here slicing and dicing and slashing
in order to add things, not remove them.
friends,
check the classic-type teleport:

i'm on that real real apple pie, for your eye, guy!
cinnamon, and sugar, buttery pats,
and nutmeg, ginger and the allspice to make it nicey-nice.
it worked,
and it works,
and i'm working on it.
y'like the trim and rims on these jauns?
thanks.
me too.
i'm not really a righteous piecrust master yet.
that's something that i have to remedy a.s.a.p.
but,
i used creamchee' and soymilk in one crust,
and powdered sugar and vanilla in the other,
and both of them are seemingly pretty much spot on for new hottness.
i like that.
i'd hate to have been up at three fourteen with the oven on for nothing.
hahaha.
c'mon.
also,
i had to activate both of the tops with raw sugar sprankles.
vegan stuff needs some caramel brownness added,
and that's my preferred method.
-
i hope you're partying all sorts of pi style.
i also hope you come get a slice of these treats.
i'd hate to waste 'em,
and you need to taste 'em,
and most of all,
i want to share them.
come get a big wedge,
and hang out for a bit.
we'll get irrational, we'll be numerological,
we'll feign logical reasoning,
we'll rationalize illogical numbers,
and fawn over lemony stuff-
i've got my end covered,
so it's happening with or without you,
but i'm betting we'd both prefer your inclusion.
-
today is the day,
just like every day,
except,
especially a little bit more so.
i'm finding radiance in radii,
i'm calculating volume at volume,
i'm taking all of it to eleven,
and then multiplying it by today's magic number,
so i end up with 34.55175191895.
why?
because rules is rules.
i've got treats on treats, and you're invited;
never quiet, never soft.....

spaghetti!

what the F* is jar sauce?!
hahahaHA.
i don't usually get down with it,
and last night was no exception.
onions, garlic, g.p.o.p., nootch, spices, crushed tomatoes,
salt, red pepper flakes and black pepper cracks,
plus a little simmerin' time.
mmmmmm.
y'know it's already so easy, you almost gotta freak off a custom jauns-
i just don't understand jar sauce,
when your own personal blend of hottness will almost always be superios.
anyway,
the big action around dinnertime here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
was a spaghetti and wheatballs kind of a thing.
.....but was it expert?
c'mon, man.
you tell me-
teleport:

WORD!
neighbors,
those 'balls only get better by the next day.
that's the truth.
these are the slightly smaller,
sort of better suited to spaghetti-style chunkers,
and i'll tell you what, kids:
you get more of them on your plate,
and that's the way to go when you wanna go all the way.
mmmhmmmm.
are you wondering if that's roasted garlic roasted garlic bread?
what?
no i didn't write it twice on accident.
it's roasted garlic bread, with cloche-roasted olive-oily garlic cloves smooshed on top,
in addition to being dispersed throughout,
with garlic powderiness, and a little salt, toasted up in the oven
towards the end of the tempeh reheat timelapse.
yeah, that's right.
i doo-doo that double-roasty toasty garlic pantload party time.
you like pasta?
me too.
the thing is, i eat too much, because that's the right amount,
and then i get so sleeeeeeeepy.
it's worth the weird sleep schedule that a double-triple dose of spaghett' gives me,
because those are perfect moments.
when i'm shoveling that stuff into my gnashing maw,
and the slurping sounds of sauce slapping around my kitchen are symphonic,
especially when amber is here,
because then it's truly in stereo surround sound?
that's when the euphoria of a blissful barbarian binge is at it's best.
it's not the fanciest meal,
but damn, duders,
it's one of the more rewarding ones.
***********
anyway,
there's a conundrum i'm faced with at the moment.
i've got SO much work to do these next two days,
and that's before i really get crackin' on my day off doings.
how do i get it all done,
seeing as the list only ever gets longer,
which makes any accomplishments only ever seem hopelessly lesser.
i'm loathe to take time away from work,
but i'm already there for every minute that we're open, and then some;
i don't think there's much point in sleeping any less,
since that'd be just NOT sleeping at all...
what a bummer that i can't make a second me to be my own assistant.
oh, stop.
two me's would cause a cataclysmic implosion of all things nice and orderly,
and the ensuing big black pit of enemy minefield de-limbing destruction
wouldn't achieve anything resembling my extrinsic goals.
yikes.
still, i can't help it, friends-
i'm despairing over the lack of time for my own enjoyment.
uh-huh.
that's real.
i've got a whole mess of art in me lately,
and no time to do it.
the only options would be to be a much bigger bag of sh!t,
and ignore my cheerful little happy chappie dog,
or,
to stop making treats, and instead paint a picture.
 i don't want OR, as you all already know.
i want AND.
all the things, all the time, and more of them while i'm at it.
i've yet to get where i'm going, and i s'pose that's the nature of life-
when you arrive, it's the end.
the thing is, i'm not looking for a shortcut,
i just want to make all the scenic sightseeing stops
AND make great time whilst having a great time.
it's to much to ask,
and impossible to demand,
but that's where i'm at,
and that's that;
never quiet, never soft.....