Torme is the Velvet Fog even!

My reaction on seeing this was to wonder about the Wendy’s Nasty Patty ™.

“For the love of God, Montresor!”

Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o’clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjDEsGZLbio

Yeah. Feel this is a slippery slope. First it’s supposedly luxury extras like heated seats and remote starts. Next something more critical when folks are habituated to the practice? Enpoopification all around.

I was there. Mid-70’s southern Florida. The most batshit crazy fundies making my life an utter misery for around 4 years. Surely they don’t still exist.

When Vita-mixes are criminalized, only criminals will have Vita-mixes.

Only know about chicken fish from Tom Waits and John Lurie.

U.S. has the Dr. Bronner’s soap label of currencies.

Or you arrive to find the civilization has had time to collapse and given way to the rise of damned dirty apes.

Heard someone assert that MBA’s have ruined the world. Seemed a hyperbolic statement at the time. Though casting my eyes around an ever more enpoopified landscape, it’s tough to disagree.

Metalhead.

And I like whole oat groats even better. Discrete grains not unlike cooking rice. Groats and steel cut oats are such an improvement on texture. Guess there’s a little trade-off in cooking time, but it really doesn’t take that long. I’ll make a little pot and have it for a week.

“and POTENTIALLY tell me to go fuck myself.”

Oooh. Catharsis.

Steve Goodman and John Prine are said to have written the “perfect” country song. Incorporating as it does trucks, trains, the rain, mama, drinkin’ and prison.

“Well, I was drunk the day my mama got out of prison And I went to pick her up in the rain But before I could get to the station in my pickup truck She got run over by a damned old train…”

Kentucky Route Zero came to me at a shaky time in my life. Such that it was full of impactful moments. Maybe made more so by myself living in the often grim, beautiful and haunted place that is east Kentucky -and of course late stage capitalism.

Orchids to Dusk is another that inspires awe. Though it is entirely about looking for a nice place to die.

This is my speculation too. Been super-sick a number of times. Always swabbed negative. Anecdotally, I know folks that tested a lot more often and only came back with a positive on the 4th try or so when feeling ill. The fine-print of my at-home tests say they’re only something like 76% accurate. Maybe I need to play the odds.

Somebody explain this to the trees that drop millions of nuts in the surrounding forest every few years skyrocketing not only rodent populations but also their parasites; ticks, chiggers, fleas. Predators are here, but they can’t seem to catch up to the mouse output.

H.G. Wells would like a word. The Morlocks have some recipes to share.