I’ll be making Ol’ Mangies Toogat Soup … eating it alone in my camper, in the dark.
Recipe:
Mix gravel and diesel and metal shavings and broken glass – along with turnip-worms and dried yellowjackets … don’t cook it … not unless you want to ruin the flavor.
It’s so good.
There’s an entrée I’m preparing for Thanksgiving tomorrow …
It takes time and patience, like scaling the mountains of Horg and seeking after Queen Lustra’s POWER JUICE, but knowing you’re not really Clint Eastwood.
You take baked beans and old hairspray and mineral spirits and mix this into a large bowl …
You then mix in toadstools and x-ray bugs …
Eat this, while watching old episodes of Twilight Zone alone …
currying daggly yolk and massaging merg-shank
yep – cutting up scribbly greens right now … pre-heating the tsongas-beef … making sure I have hyle-gravy.
You go down to the wharf, and meet Tony …
He hooks you up with Sharon, and then things get fun.
You pile CRAB into a swangus-stew pot, and mix in crag-nuts and cat droppings and lost storg-larva …
And it takes some getting used to, especially when your anus starts to bleed.
I put the gumbous-beast in the oven …
Getting craggle-berry waffle juice ready …
Making a slurry of mac+cheese+green beans …
Happy Thanksgiving, really …
Saturnalia begins … with the ritual of the dead bird.
There are blues – fentanyl pills …
Then there are the blues-travelers, fentanyl pills dipped in PCP …
