Better Than Drugs











Whenever I take the time to grill, something magical happens. I'm not sure if it takes place during the cooking...the preperation...I don't know at what point some supernatural mixture of garlic and olive oil (or maybe onion?) combine to release the Almighty. I don't pretend to understand. All I do is grill like I know how to grill...but when the time comes to sit down and eat my creation, I experience a feeling that can only be described as Absolute Internal Satisfaction...and to say that this level of pleasure was formed by my hands alone would be foolish.



















During the first few bites of the meal (be it a greasy cheeseburger or a delectable chicken breast), my perception will shift, as if the lights around me just got brighter, or a veil was being lifted off of my head. My vision seems wider and deeper. Time grinds to a halt as the food in front of me disappears. My pleasure seems timeless and limitless. As if the entire universe, the time that existed before the meal and the time that will come after it, was created just for me to experience the juicy wonder of this chicken breast and these perfectly roasted side items.

As one might expect, I overeat shamelessly during these meals. Unwilling to stop myself from experiencing wave after wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

If God could grill the perfect chicken sandwich, custom-made just for me, it would be this.

And so it was.











Fresh corn-on-the-cob, red peppers, and tomatoes from my garden...marinated with garlic, dressing, some spices...a large store-bought onion. Chicken breasts marinated in a similar mixture, grilled and smothered in melted pepper jack cheese. A perfectly toasted sesame seed bun.

Fuck yeah.













This must be how Buddha's belly feels all the time.

Day 5
Significant Shrinkage













Summa, summa, summa-time

Day 4
Abort!











I lost about 1.5 tomatoes to mold or rot overnight (it got a little cool and humid) so I quickly discarded the bad ones and ushered the remainder into the oven. They've been slowly cooking at 170 degrees all day.

In retrospect, it probably was just rot and I could have left the rest of them outside to finish, but we're only expected to be around 70-75 degrees for the next few days...which is a little cooler than ideal.

Also, some of the tomatoes that I used were over-ripe and a few of the guides I read specifically advised against using over-ripe tomatoes because they tend to rot before finishing.

Anyway, these are staying in the oven until they're done. I'll try another batch outside when we have a few warmer days forecast.

This is the first red pepper that I have ever grown in my entire life.
Fuckin' take that mother nature!

Day 3
(near)

Day 2
(far)












I have never heard this dog bark or make any noise at all. He seems to radiate a quiet, Buddha-like wisdom and calm.

When he arrives at our back wall, he arrives silently...as if he was carried in by the breeze.

Day 2

...after about 5 hours of partly cloudy sun yesterday afternoon and two hours of sunshine this morning.

Too Many Tomatoes











Good thing I like my tomatoes like I like my humor.

Dry.




















Or maybe 'baked' is the right word.

Anyway, it will be cool if this actually works. I was getting ready devise a plan to sell these on craigs list.

Meanwhile, the sunflowers seem to be running out of steam.

Conceived...as Something Master P Would Say
"Seriously--
more pictures of your stupid fucking pets?"











How about a 3-minute margarita?
1/4 - 1/2 cup (to taste) of 100% agave silver tequila
1/8th cup of triple sec (slightly over)
1/8th cup of Rose's lime juice (waaay under)
1/8th cup of Lemon/Lime soda (slightly over)

Original Video - More videos at TinyPic

Oh, I guess Betty Ford just died while I was making this.
Cheers!

Inspired...by Master P



This is my version of Master P's chorizo nachos. It's more like a 'dip' (the liquidity comes from pork fat) made with chorizo, onions, garlic, and topped with cheddar cheese and fresh tomato and jalepeno from my garden.
































Master-P, would have minimized the vegetables, but it's delicious...it's just not the same.

Oh, Master-P, wherefore art thou?

New Roommate, New Dogs

This is Pancho, a fierce chihuahu whose first act in our backyard was to send the barking pit bull bitch from next door whimpering away with her tail tucked between her legs (by kicking urinated-on dirt in her direction while she peaked over the wall).

Pancho is a whore for the camera.































This is Rocky, he is originally from Bulgaria and has far too much dignity to pose











My original inclination was to call them Pancho and Lefty, from the Willie Nelson song...but unlike our cats, these creatures actually respond to their respective names.



'Interesting' factoids:
If I had been born before my cousin, my birth-name would have been Rocky (shudder).

What I thought was a Willie Nelson song is actually a Townes Van Zandt song. Tex, the guy referenced in this blog post, spent a good hour telling us why Townes Van Zandt is the greatest man who ever lived. I don't know about that. I do know that Tex had a very similar drawl...VERY similar.

The Coen Brothers used TVZ's cover of the Rolling Stones' "Dead Flowers" on the Big Lebowski soundtrack. His "Cocaine Blues" doesn't sound half bad, either...same with "Waitin' Around to Die".

Do I ever expect to see 'Tex' around again?

Well sure's hell not 'round these parts.







...but maybe in Palatine.