Tag: humor

The Imagination Generation cooks, or Culinary Revolution For The Hell Of It

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

revo

Food glorious food, We’re anxious to try it. Its what’s for dinner, whether cool as a cucumber or easy as pie we love our food. Food has been essential since time began. Without food the world would be full of nothing but vegetation soaking up the sun’s energy creating oxygen for no one. But as it is we have a symbiotic relation with vegetation. Animals (including us) eat the greenery, digest it, then return it to the plants as composted food for their roots. So we all benefit from the cycle of life because of the cycle of food. Food has always existed even finding its roots in the garden of Eden. Yea, the forbidden apple the iSin that was as they say the fall of man. More like the rise of man which is why so many of us get hungry after sex. Food has had major impacts to the growth an development of all life, especially humanity. Whether it was chewing the leaves of tree’s or the capturing of some animal we survived on food. Food was so important to our development it can be attributed for the creating of societies. We formed tribes to both procure and protect food sources. With the advent of the agricultural revolution food became power. Whomever controlled the food controlled the masses. Humans learned to grow vegetation at will, capture and herd animals for milk and meat, and create warehouses to store food. At one point food was worth more than money. Why in ancient times you could by a chariot polo team for a few cases of wheat, a six pack, and a cow. Brothels accepted loaves of bread for making it rise and it gave cause for a new phenomenon arose, thievery. With people stealing food from one another and beating each other up or killing for food an important new force needed to be created. The police force formed in ancient Athens where the policeman were paid in what else? Donuts. The police eventually evolved into armies which as Napoleon so eloquently put it, marches on its stomach. He reportedly always hid a taco inside his coat which is why so many photos show him apparently holding his stomach. But that was then this is now, and now it costs a lot of money for a small amount of food. But we pay it because not only do we need food, we friggen love to eat. Home or restaurant, no difference, bring on the food.
Why do we love to eat so much? Properly prepared food can fill us with a plethora of wonderful emotions which is one reason we love to go to restaurants. What is a restaurant? Originally the French term for restoring it referred to the hearty soups that were said to restore ones health. What a great concept, a place to sit, eat, and converse in a Nice setting. Or was it Paris? Whatever, the concept gained ground and a new industry was born. Forks and knives, chopsticks, or fingers, food was bought prepared and served the world over and Auguste Escoffier took it upon himself to develop recipe systems and a set of basic tenets for cooking. That was the late 18oo’s and those laws stood firm for almost a century. Red wine for meat, white wine for poultry or fish (Pick your Poisson). Everything served within the lip of a plain white plate. Everything was standardized right down to the size of cooking utensils. This worked well for many years until a new generation grew up and took over the sauté pans. The imagination revolution was about to break the restaurant industry wide open.
Like most of my generation, I colored outside the lines on purpose. But some of us took it even further, like coloring the tree’s blue instead of green, or making the sun magenta because the word on the crayon looked cool. I was particular to periwinkle myself because I not only did it look cool, the name made me chuckle. It was one of the only crayons that made a daily appearance in the cheesy crayon sharpener on the side of my 64 color box of Crayola. That was the first known instance of thinking outside the box. We were the generation that would stretch the limits of imagination like silly putty, make it bounce around like a superball, and allow it to take flight from balsa airplanes, to water pump rockets, all the way the flying saucer Frisbee. Our entertainment was just as far out, with uncles who are Martians, talking cars, nose twitching good witches, and pretty genies in bottle seemingly common place events an acceptable. We even let our imaginations allow us to believe that a movie star on a three hour boat tour would bring an enormous change of clothes, and once stranded a professor could invent everything on a deserted island except a workable raft. Our minds were open and free and TV opened many dialogues on previously hushed or taboo subjects like racism, drugs, and the all time favorite, sex. It’s the generation that looked to the moon and said lets not just look at it but lets go there and find out if there really is any cheese, let not have a small concert lets have a festival for half a million. It was only a matter of time before some of these new forward thinking creative out of the crayola box coloring kids would grow up an become chefs of the future. Ha Ha.
And we did. The first thing the rebel imagination generation of cooks did was disregard all of Escoffier’s rules. No disrespect sir, your shit was incredible, but we are in the age of culinary renaissance and it was up to us to disregard the rules, deconstruct everything that had been done for so many years and color outside the roasting pans. Sauté the red snapper, throw in some shallots and fresh thyme, hit it with some pinot noir and deglaze. Finish with a touch of fish stock , pinch of cream, and spoonful of raw butter and man oh man you have one tasty ass snapper with a buerre rouge. Red wine and fish?? Blaspheme! We broke all the old rules, decorating our plates with fresh herbs, making wines work with anything, rare duck breast, barely cooked or half raw foods, crunchy veggies, nouvelle cuisine was taking its stand against the old strong brigade system of cooking. Women washing the pots and pans? Bullshit ladies, come on inside the kitchen and show them what kick ass chefs you are. The old regime cringed, knocking the cigarette ashes into their sautoise pans. Sacrebleu, what are zose crazy long hair chefs doing? And what kind of cigarette is zat they smoke? Sorry Charlie, but revolutionaries only want the best tuna, served mostly if not entirely raw. Salads took center stage as entrée’s with hot meats served over them. The imagination generation turned the culinary industry on its pigs ear. Sweetbread day in the morning we kicked some ass back then!
Now I watch proudly as a new generation of rebel chefs begin to take their place in culinary history, sustainable food systems, farm to table programs, and molecular gastronomy are the next new wavers an they have been doing a tremendous job. Women have made their major impact on the industry an in an ever evolving world its up to them to keep our interest in dining, not just eating. Personally I think the industry is in great hands, hope its no0t just my imagination

Psycho Kaler…. Qu’est-ce que c’est

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Uncategorized2 Comments

kale

Despite my age I remain for the most part in touch with the fads and fancies of the young. I engage in most of the social media sites and no, I’m not a stalker, just like to stay in touch with the youth because quite frankly for me they are no loner the future, but the present. One way I accomplish this is to listen to the popular music of the day in an attempt to shed a light of understanding their concerns. Music reflects each generation and much of it is born of anger or frustration and by design sound like crap to the older generations. I can relate to that sentiment and like most generations believe mine even invented it. I remind myself how I was as a youngster the media dictated much of my emotions and how I felt, for me the Viet Nam war the defining event. So I get how much of an impact media events can seem monumental while young. Crisis today such as Solange vrs. Jay Z in elevator UFC or the marriage of Kanye and Kim, (a figurative and literal big ass wedding) can have lasting effects on the physiological status of the young and hip. So I dig fads and try to remain aware of what is “hip” or popular.
In my days as a chef in New York City it was essential to be keenly aware of any and all food trends and to follow their lifeline. As an example I’ll chart the course of the darling of the dairy industry through the eighties, goat cheese. What could possibly sound more delicious than curds of aged smelly goat’s milk? But it was tasty and it hit the culinary world balls out. (Or should I say it was a Hella hit?) Prior to its mainstream culinary popularity it was consumed mostly in posh (or arrogant, depending on your view) French fromageries by intelligent beret wearing cheese lovers. But in the early eighties it made appearances in many fine NYC restaurants over salads, such as Aged goat cheese coated in crushed philberts, sautéed and served over a bed of mesclun lettuce with a warm raspberry hazelnut dressing. Many upper eastside bistros served a similar dish and eventually goat cheese made its way downtown to some of the more trendy restaurant, grapes, pear, and goat cheese sautéed over fresh baby spinach with walnut vinaigrette. Not long after that it settled into Greenwich Village where it cemented its place in hip culinary culture by becoming a cheese choice on burgers and as a pizza topping. These days its found its way into the family chain restaurant industry at TGI’s and the like. It was one of the food trends that successfully made the transition to culinary fame.
I supported the goat cheese movement the moment I tasted it, stigma of nanny goats gruff aside. There is another new trending food though I am having difficulty getting behind. Kale! Kale is nothing more than a spinach imposter that even gets snubbed by Brussel sprouts. Touted as the worlds healthiest food and despite its attractive purple variety kale tastes like bitter angry collard greens dipped in ipecac and sautéed with fine metal shavings. While I will admit to its health benefits and its outstanding array of vitamins I come from a time when kale was considered urban seaweed. And I also admit it had a rough upbringing, it could not have been easy in a family consisting of broccoli, cauliflower, and collar greens, between the constant harassment of children who despise the entire family as early as its pabulum eating stage, and then the horrible George Bush moment when a sitting American president admitted openly to not liking broccoli, kale had to live in some pretty dark shadows. And yes the cute curly leafed veggie held prominent status in the middle ages, but at that time chastity belts were all the rage as well, and well… when’s the last time you hear of anyone wearing one of those things? Hell I’ll even cop to have used purple kale in many a crudite display in my career, but for me kale has a special dark spot in my heart, I once confused it for spinach in a high pressure moment.
I was in culinary school, our chef instructor was know for handing out reports when he caught you off guard. Its well documented the times he had students scratching their heads trying to guess at the height of a curry bush while most of the other students chuckled. Many a student was given an assignment of listing the 16 essential ingredients in curry or the genetic difference between fruits and vegetables and so on. With only two days left in his kitchen I had so far escaped being given a report an was certain I could finish the last two days without consequence. I experienced a minor lapse of attention during the height of service the chef handed me a pan of braised kale an yelled “JT, take this spinach over to the veg kitchen right away” I obediently grabbed the pan and offered a smug “yes chef”….. That’s when he stopped me. “Oh so this is spinach huh? Suppose you bring me four page report tomorrow on difference between spinach and kale?” Busted! Caught off guard that sneaky premeditating chef had me cold. I have never forgotten that stupid report. I was up until after midnight working on the damn thing without the benefit of Google or Wikipedia!. Perhaps that’s why I know so much about this new and hip uber-healthy bitter star of a veggie, and maybe, just maybe its why I harbor some degree of anger as well. Perhaps the bad taste in my mouth is not the result of this leafy wonder cooked incorrectly but the taste of a memory scar from my school days. That’s it, its time to forgive and show what a big person I am so right this minute I’m gonna cook up some braised kale with caramelized leeks. Wait, I almost forgot, no hip new dish is complete with a tried and true food fad, so I’ll top it off with some broiled, ash covered aged goat cheese…

The Existential Bakers guide to breakfast (and other food related nonsense)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

exiguide

What is The Breakfast of Champions, Wheaties or the philosophy of Kilgore trout? Wheaties, the breakfast of champions is a crispy wheat and bran flake that was the result of an accidental spill, much safer than the spills of Exxon, BP, or Chernobyl, but more in line with the legend of “Hey, you got chocolate in my peanut butter.” With Wheaties, the self proclaimed champion, some wheat bran mixture fell onto a hot stove and formed a handful crispy flakes that eventually was converted into a recipe. Unlike the chocolate peanut butter legend this Battle Creek legend is true. But that’s about as exciting as it gets though, a rather non descript cereal flake, not frosted, puffed, honey nutted, or multi-grain, just a simple boring flake that floats in milk an cries out for sugar. Not much of a champion! Kilgore Trout on the other hand is a incredibly interesting character developed by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. in many books, most notably The Breakfast Of Champions. Kilgore is a profound thinking science fiction writer of such nail biters a s “Venus On The Half Shell“; which alone makes him more worthy of the title IMHO. Much more interesting than the boring bran but unfortunately Kilgore can’t cook very well and half shells are about the extent of his culinary knowledge. Not a single thing to do with food. So where does that leave me? To this unrelated and frankly unnecessary quest for some of the most fundamental culinary queries such as which came first the chicken or the egg, are cucumbers really cool, can man live by bread alone, and most importantly, are we what we eat?
As it applies to food EB is the self crowned clown prince of cupcakery. Ergo, the Existential Baker’s answer to most queries is let them eat cupcakes. But that would be a self fulfilling and stomach filling prophecy. There are far more profound question at play here so let me get started. So which really did come first from an existentialist bakers point of view? In an attempt to avoid questioning the intentions of the chicken crossing the road or putting all the eggs in the same basket I developed an experiment. While at brunch this past weekend with a friend I gulped down my first mimosa then ordered a chicken salad for myself, and and egg salad for my guest. Now I wait to see which comes first. To my dismay, they arrive at our table simultaneously on the same tray, so I could only conclude that neither the chicken nor the egg arrived first.
How is this possible you ask? Well if instead of messing around with salads if I had ordered a bowl of primordial soup instead I would have found my answer. Primordial Soup is a delicacy in this era an a recipe passed down from more generations than one could imagine. The very first bowl of Primordial Soup, depending on which book you consult, was served up some three and a half billion years ago. At that time solar cooking was all the rage, and quite frankly the only available form of cooking. Not to get too technical, like most soups it begins with a mirepoix, the basic onion, celery, carrot, except this soup has a base of carbon .nitrogen, and potassium, lightly sautéed in ultraviolet and seasoned with various forms of sodium. Once these elements are translucent copious amounts of hydrogen is added and its allowed to simmer for a few million years. Once the soup is done its serve on a warm tectonic plate and served hot, much unlike revenge. The key to the significance of primordial soup is that during the simmer process an egg gets formed, and by the time the soup is fully done the egg is hatched and come out a fully cooked chicken. So from a strictly technical standpoint, it was the egg that came first, however it was the chicken that was the firt to leave the soup and walk out on its own. Whew, glad that’s out of the way, now on to the coolness of the cucumber.
Cucumbers are by nature a phallic shaped vegetable and the butt of many jokes. Joy toy look alike aside even before it had sexual reputation it was known for its coolness. Before it was cool it was used strictly by hipsters but only ironically. But what exactly made the cumber of cue cool? Well to begin with, its in the gourd family, infamous for their lack of sanity as in “Out of ones gourd”. How cool is that? But there’s more, the cool cucumber hangs out with the veggies but is in fact a fruit. Yea the sneaky cucumber has fooled grocers for generations who insist on placing them with the lettuces. These luscious garden favorites have been around since ancient Egypt and used as an anti swelling agent by early Roman soldiers. Not cool enough? Well what else do you know that gets sliced then placed on supermodels eyes to just hang out? Yes indeed, the cucumber has been cool ever since its mention in a poem from the 1700’s that stated, I am as cool as a cucumber, could see the rest of womankind. Cool!
So two myths explained, time to explore mans (or woman’s) ability to live on bread alone. While bread is indeed a food often eaten at Staples as well as being a staple food its nutritional value is relatively limited. If one opts to live only on the bottom of the food pyramid then one would survive for a period of time, but bear in min a pyramid is actually an ancient tomb and the antagonist of not too good schemes. But if you insist you will perish from malnutrition and all the carbs and gluten would make you unpopular in modern culture. Of course its not physically possible to live on bread alone but that’s taking it out of its original context anyway. The question arises in the bible when Jesus states man cannot in fact live on bread alone, but the J man always spoke in metaphors and was not a nutritional expert. Can one live without spiritual guidance? That’s the jist of the phrase as it was meant in the Bible and on that note I would have to answer no, man cannot live on staples alone he or she needs some form of profundity in their lives but not necessarily religion. If its religion you want there are a plethora of choices ranging from downright bizarre (cannibalistic or exo-planatery rituals) to the chanting monks with nothing to say. But organized religion is not needed, you merely need to use your imagination. Mediate, pray, or just communicate with life and you will have something of substance to go along with your emotional bread. Or bread an chocolate, that works too.
This brings me to my final culinary query for today, are we in fact what we eat? Well I’d imagine if it could reason a dung beetle would object to a simple yes and it’s a bit more profound than saying something ridiculous like “What am chopped liver” because that’s what you had for lunch. We are what we eat to a degree, without proper nourishment we would perish so by extension the healthier our food choice are the healthier our bodies will be. But as expressed previously we do not live on bread alone, and nourishing our bodies is essential but so as well is nourishing our minds, our souls. Eat healthy and go to the gym and your body will look good, but learn and experience, enjoy and smile, and you will feel good inside and out. Imagination is exercise for the mind and the more exercise you get the more muscular your brain will become, and the opposite sex digs big brain muscles.
Feeling good is one of the reasons we have foods that aren’t the healthiest choices but taste so damn good, like bacon, French fries, Doritos, or yes, chocolate cupcakes. What they lack in nutrients they make up for in endorphins that come rushing out of our pickled pituitary glands when food makes us feel happy. Foods such as cupcakes (shameless plug) release hormones in our brain that just make us feel good all over. But keep it in moderation, we should balance our feel good with our look good.
Beyond food there are things we ingest mentally that hold just as much significance as food. Take music for example. For me, rock and roll I like the powerful multi-vitamin of the brain. I personally love classic rock, which I suppose is like taking Centrum Silver, but it makes me feel good. Music is like soul aerobics, it makes us dance, or sway, it gives us words to think about, or draw emotion from, and it just plain feels great. Music nourishes the soul. Along with music, poetry, books, theater, and education are some other metaphysical foods that make us what we are. Digest as much as you can, read, feel, experience. They may not give you the body you want but a consistent diet of culture (no not yogurt culture) will help you attain the brain you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe that will be my next Niche. I’ll make a video called “A Healthy Brain In Three Weeks With The Existential Bakers Mind Diet” Maybe even spin off into “Brainweight Watchers” or “Cortex90 Hippocampus Fitness Workout”
So to review existentially, it doesn’t really matter which came first you still need to break some eggs to make a chicken omelet, if you keep chill you will be as cool as a cucumber, don’t put all your bread in one loaf, and if you really want to be healthy feed your mind and your body. Above all, excersize your imagination and challenge your mind always. Peace

Grimmer Than Grim Tales Presents, Sinner Ella, beneath the silver spike heel slipper

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

sin

A Sick Bastards Fairly True Fairy Tale
J.T. Hilltop

Part one: Dress for the job you want to give
What’s the deal with the story of a young chick who is tossed into servitude to her jealous step sisters and overbearing step Mom who magically transforms a pumpkin into a coach and herself into a diva to seduce a rich prince, then fleeing when time catches up with her. Not only that, she happens to leave behind a slipper luring the prince into a kingdom wide search for the fantasy woman’s foot who will fill that slipper. Lost slipper? Please! More like some Jimmy Choo”s Come hump me pumps she wore to entice Princey boy. Prince have a shoe fetish maybe? What kind of trickery is used to make mice look like horses? Who is this Fairy Godmother and why did the repo-man show up at midnight? Only the sick bastard can answer these poignant questions so here is JT Hilltops version of events from his “Sick Bastards Fairly True Fairy Tales.” I’m here to unravel the salacious subplot and reveal the half truths of this sacred story. Salacious indeed, the true tale, or should I say tail, has what it takes to rise up beyond your horny expectations. I hope to make it stand up in court and render an explosive climactic verdict. Open wide!

There’s many versions of this sordid tale but the most well known and accepted by far is the version told by our old pal and inspiration behind theme parkery Walter Disney. So that can only mean in my search for truth the sick bastard will begin to take that treasured tale and twist it into a warped shell of itself. This isn’t the fairy tale your mama read you at bedtime, this is the story of the not so innocent Sinner Ella, the shapely and strikingly beautiful high heeled seductress with a secret helper and a gift of satisfying the most voracious sexual appetite that give her a much needed advantage …With a Wham Bam Whatta Slam Bibbitty Bobbity Bada Bing Bada Boo!

Once upon a bunch of thyme the 21 year old gorgeous Ella Fuchs was a good cook and sandwich maker who understood the value of a well placed sexual favor. In and out of church she was known as Sinner Ella and her list of sexual accomplishments earned her the coveted “Peoples Choice of Jumbo Golden Globes Award.” Her home movies, be they consensually filmed or secretly filmed received an XXX rating. She used her sensual piercing cobalt eyes and thick alluring lips to render her an advantage with just about everyone. Just about. Her sexual antics seldom worked at the home in which she lived with her frigid old step-mother, Lady Tremaine and her two step sisters Drizzle and Anna Sthesia who could best be described as…..well, homely. They were jealous of Sinner Ella because as a child the pretty Ella had won Bare Naked Toddlers and Tiara’s one year and was headed for fame and fortune in the erotic film industry. That is until her Mom, Clover Honeybear Boobaleboo passed away leaving her alone with her father. The old boy didn’t trust himself around his sensuous daughter so he married Lady T. to help raise her and prevent him from a life of incestuous scandal. One night he went out for a pack of cigarettes and never returned. Poor Ella was forced to live a subservient lifestyle to the step sisters and step Mom. Sinner Ella prayed that one day someone rich would come by so she could use her oral wiles on him to get him to take her away. It was a sad situation but Sinner was sure that she could lick the problem.

Lady Tremaine was concerned about the competition Ella would give her own daughters so she destroyed all of Ella’s sexy gowns and threw away all her shoes. All except the one pair that Ella had hidden away, her no fail Jimmy Choo come and get me pumps with the spike heel and ankle straps. Sinner had seduced many a man and a half dozen women using her hump inducing pumps and she knew some day they would once again tickle the libido of someone who could free her from her circumstance. Some day!

“Ella you slut make us something to eat and don’t forget to feed Lucifer.” Drizzle seemed to enjoy ordering her slave girl around but Anne Sthesia was a tad more nice, knowing that Ella had a skillful tongue. Anna called from the bathroom, “Sinner, I need a towel to dry off.” Ella knew what that meant, it was more like a moistening up than a drying off. She put some chicken in the oven, fed the cat Lucifer, then headed up to the bathroom with a load of clean and folded towels. “Put the towels down and come lick me.” Anna was sitting on the edge of the tub so Ella put the towels in the cupboard and knelt down between Anna’s knees. She gently rubbed the inside of Anna’s soft white thighs. She hadn’t even been in the shower yet. Ella traced large circles around Anna’s thighs using her soft carnal touch making Anna breath hard before bending her head forward to allow her tongue to go to work, hungrily lapping Anna’s happy patch paying extreme attention to her glee spot. Ella knew exactly where to touch Anna who was gyrating her hips around Ella’s long curly blond hair letting out a soft “Ohhhh my” Ella’s instincts took over and she expertly plied her tongue vigorously as Anna’s moans got louder and louder until she climaxed. “Oh my God Anna, come bathe with me.” The two set in the warm water as Ella tenderly washed every inch of Anna’s body with soap and saliva. No sooner had she finished bathing her when Drizzle’s voice screeched out, “Maaaaa. They’re doing it again and she’s gonna burn lunch!”

Sinner Ella quickly jumped up from the tub, dried off, dressed and ran down to the kitchen where Lady T was waiting, face all scrunched up in a scowl. “God damn you little hussy you’ll be the death of us all. Keep your slutty girlie sex crap to yourself you dyke and finish cleaning up this house. I’m taking the girls shopping to get gowns for the Princes Balls. I mean the Princes Ball on Saturday. You make sure all the chores are done and maybe I’ll let you go too.” Ella smiled to herself dreaming that she could dance with anyone let alone a Prince, but she also doubted it would ever happen. Nothing good ever happened to Ella since her father abandoned her. She worried the only dancing she would ever be involved in was pole dancing or lap dancing at the “Daddy Issues Perve Palace Bar” in town. She obeyed of course, served the chicken lunch and then cleaned the rooms of the three witches that were ruining her life. After lunch Lady T took the girls out shopping while Sinner Ella was alone in the house dancing with a broom pretending it was a man. She then used that man to sweep up all the floors, then she cleaned the dishes and straightened out the living room. She looked over at the three piles of dirty clothes thinking her chores would never end.

While scrubbing the kitchen floor Ella heard the three shop till you drop self centered ladies come home all excited. “Come Sinner Ella, come see what we got for the Princes ball.” Drizzle held up a spectacular Ann Tyler Blue sequined full length gown with a long slit up the thigh. “Ewww Mommie, I like! I bet that Prince will want to do me right there on the dance floor.” She then opened a shoe box, “Especially when he see’s my sexy calves in these black leather Prada’s here.” Sinners heart sunk a she mumbled to herself “you mean steers there sweetie, your calves blew up years ago” But the shoes were remarkable. Patent leather Saffiano pumps in Nero black with two and a half inch heels. A shiny pointed toe shoe that would reveal just the right amount of toe cleavage. Sexy yet sensible they were quite hot, but still nothing compared to Ella’s erection enticing Jimmy Choo’s. If only she could wear them to the ball and dance with the Prince. If only! Then Anna held up her gown, a fiery red Jovani full length sleeveless V neck sure to highlight her more than ample cleavage. She would surely look super sexy in that number, but worse, on top of that she would be wearing silver Manolo Blahnik’s with open toe and jeweled bows. With nearly four inch heels they came pretty close to Ella’ shoes. “Ewwww, I’m gonna look hot. The hell with the Prince, I want to do the Princes sister.” Lady T slapped her daughter, “You better get that lesbian thinking out of your head right now. That’s for little trampy whores like Ella! Get to church tomorrow and pray away that gay!” At first Anna objected, “But Mommy dearest,” then thinking the better of it just said, “You’re right Mommy, I’ll go to church.” But the telling glance she gave Ella let them all know that no gay would

be prayed away anytime soon.

Still believing her Dad would one day return it surprised Ella when Lady T showed off her newly bought wardrobe as well. Ella was now certain her step Mom was as willing to entrap the Prince with womanly wiles as her daughters. Maybe she even believed she would fare better because Lady T held up a very sexy black appliqué cocktail ball dress that would reveal almost all of her back, much of her slightly sagging cleavage, and all of her long sensual legs leaving very little to the imagination. Spaghetti straps revealed most of her smooth skinned back and breast to take center stage to any mans eye and the sheer full length see through lace bottom made it one of the sexiest dresses Ella had ever seen. But the killer was when she pulled out a pair of shoes from the shoebox. Coal black Ostrich teazers with six inch spike heels with zipper up and straps to criss cross up her calves. Ella was stunned, shoes that rivaled her very own hump me pumps. Sinner Ella hid the tears that were sneaking down her cheeks and left to her room as Lady T bragged, “You ladies may have youth on your side but I’m gonna knock that Prince’s brains and wallet off and snuggle myself right into the castle with this number. I’ll have that young stud screaming my name and Gods name in the same sentence while begging me for more. I’ll show you how to bring the sexy girls, just you watch your cougar Mom tie a leash around his royal shlong! Get ready for a new Daddy girls, Mama T is brining sexy back!”
Next: You Spin Me Right Round Baby Right Round

Complex Relation

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Uncategorized2 Comments

mom

Mom
You loved me at my worst
Yet always gave your best
And never let it phase you

Mothers are revered today
But you’re not here to share it
So in my heart I praise you

I know I wasn’t easy
I tossed you into turmoil
I wish I had been better

I know you wept in silence
Praying for me to get it
So I’m sending you a letter

I’ve always loved you deeply
And now I’m here to tell
How sorry I have always been
For putting you through hell

I’m sorry Mom
I didn’t think
I tracked in mud
I clogged the sink
You washed my mouth
Because I cursed
Soap tastes awful
But guilt tastes worse
Kids starve in china
Still no clean plate
Stayed out all night
Made you wait
You lost sleep
It made you grey
I wore you down
Would not obey
I rolled my eyes
I made a face
It never froze
It stayed in place
When you got angry
I had to scatter
Of have my head
On a sliver platter
You weren’t asking
You were telling
I knew this because
Of all the yelling
Had to listen
You had such clout
Or I’d get something
To cry about
Just so you know
I closed the fridge
And never jumped off
The Brooklyn bridge
But
If you were here today
You would hear me say
I think about you mom
Each and every day

Love you Mom

Noah’s Ark De Triomphe Part II

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

rain

A Hard Rains Gonna Fall

Assembling the animals was much easier than Noah had anticipated because they seemed totally compliant. Noah assumed the boss had a talk with them but rumor has it the big savior had sprayed the animal kingdom with some of his “special herb” fumes that put everything in a very mellowed out state. The herb was all the rage up in heaven. Many an angel said it was so preamo the stuff was to die for and perhaps some actually did but either way Noah got the animals all aboard and into their respective living quarters, set up his feeding schedule and then waited for the rain to start. He had set up the best luxury suite for the rhino’s up near the top where God would see how well his one horns were taken care of. Outside his entire family was ridiculed relentlessly but they did their very best to ignore all the rhetoric. Noah called out, “Guys, its time, come on aboard.” The family reluctantly climbed across the plank onto the ark. Noah pushed off the plank and addressed the large crowd that had gathered to ridicule him, “You will all be ashamed of your ignorance soon, you sin without fear of consequence but consequence is what you are about to receive.” The sardonic mob increased their jeering and added some pretty accurate rock throwing to emphasize their distain for this village idiot. When one somewhat large rock was thrown directly at Noah’s face he caught it mid air, looked upwards and hurled the rock propelling straight up and at the very second it reached its pinnacle a loud thunderclap, a bright flash of lightning, and along with the rock fell to earth the beginning of a monster rainstorm. Noah looked up to the heavens quite pleased, “Your timing is impeccable lord.”
Within seconds the ground was covered in rainwater and the skies opened up to the teardrops of a million clouds. Noah’s son Hamm was the first to speak, “Holy shit on rye toast it really is gonna rain hell down on those chortling hacks.” Hamm addressed the once jeering crowd in his loudest voice, “How do you like us now suckers?! Maybe you better get you raincoats on its gonna be the mother of all rains. Don’t just stand there, start treading, haha! Now who’s laughing?” Noah cautioned him, “Son, don’t be getting too cocky or you may get tossed overboard. The lord ha a way of over-emphasizing his points.” While Noah was trying to calm his family down a chorus of “Take me with you” and “don’t leave us out here” replaced the ridiculing as many soaking wet sinners attempted to climb onto the arc. Noah was suddenly a tad frightened so he yelled to his family, “Release the hounds. Oh an maybe some snakes too, anything that will keep those maggots off our home.” It denigrated to an epic animal versus human war with snakes biting hands of the panic stricken crowds that attempted to board the ark. Noah stood on the top deck and spoke to the crowds, “I have a prepared statements for the lord God our savior. Please quiet down and all you smaller ones keep your heads above water a little longer.”
The crowd quieted in the hopes of hearing of a second chance, or that maybe this is just a warning. Noah cleared his throat, “It is with deep regret that I inform every living creature not on this ark that I am terminating our relationship. I will make it rain forty days and nights to wipe you all from the face of the earth. It is unfortunate but I deem this world to be far too corrupt to allow any of you to continue living. I understand many of you have indeed tried your best but it is my opinion that you have all failed to follow my commandments as set down by my friend Moses. Therefore I ask you all to terminate your attempts to cling to your miserable lives and just let death visit upon you.” Seeing the tearful and remorseful crowds crying and realizing the Lord was thinking about the Noahide laws they devised for after the flood and no one name Moses has existed yet, he ad libbed a bit, “Please remember I love you all and this isn’t personal. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this has caused.” Noah headed below deck because he couldn’t stand the pains of his neighbors despite how rudely they had treated him. God came into his room, “Are you kidding me Noah? Sorry for your inconvenience? What in the fire and brimstone possessed you to say that?” Noah was still numb from being the bearer of such horrific news, “Hey I’m sorry lord, but did you see all those faces? Nobody knew what that Moses comment meant and everyone was crying. I felt bad. But forget that, they’re all gonna die anyway, come and look at the suite I set up for your one horns.” God followed Noah down the hall to the rhino room. “Well, what do you think” the beaming Noah asked. Gods jaw dropped to the ground causing a huge dent in the floor. “Noah!? What the everlasting burning place is this? Where are my Me-damn unicorns? I specifically asked you to care for unicorns, not these F bombing rhinoceros. Where arte my unicorns?” Noah became intensely worried having witnessed firsthand the big dudes wrath. “Oh no, wait. You said one horns, these were the only one horns I could find. I don’t even know what a unicorn is! Please lord, its not my fault.” Never had Noah seen anything as angry as God eyes, not even the killer stare from his wife that time he forgot his wedding anniversary. Noah cowered, “Please forgive me lord, I have sinned. No man is without sin and I fu….I fornicated upwards on the unicorns. Wait, that didn’t sound right, I mean I didn’t realize you created anything called a unicorn and I’m sorry, but this has been an extremely unpleasant odyssey. You have any idea how hard it was to get some of these animal in here? Not enough headroom for the giraffes, the elephants pooping every thirty seconds, the termites trying to eat everything along the way? And then bringing these one horns all the way up to the top deck? Holy fecal matter that wasn’t easy.” Apparently the visions it left with the supreme one touched a nerve and he began to laugh. Noah, allowing the frustrations of the past six months slip away laughed too. Within seconds the two of them were bent over in a laughing jag. Perhaps God was laughing out his frustration at losing his unicorns and Noah was laughing out his for all the shit he put up with the last six months but they both needed the release. They compose themselves after five minutes until God pointed to the Rhino’s and said “All the way to the top” breaking out into a second laugh jag. “Oh man Lord, you should have seen the buckets of elephant poop I had to remove, and the first time I fed the giraffes they threw up their entire lunch. Took twenty five minutes hahahahaha!” Eventually they both regained composure and God had to leave. Now the real work would begin for Noah, and the first step was to remove the bodies of the failed attempts of humans trying to board the Species Saver Express.
The trip was not without its difficulties as the constant rain caused major arthritic concerns for Noah and his wife and the woodpeckers constant rat-a-tat tatting was driving everyone, animals and humans bonkers. Cabin fever to the hundredth degree. Hyenas paced wildly attempting to sneak up to first class, the giraffes cut holes in the ceiling for comfort and luckily the sloth’s lived above them and were far too lazy to take advantage of exploring. The wolves somehow got into Hams wife’s closet and put on her woolen fleece coat in an attempt to fool the sheep. The sheep and the rabbits had already conceived babies. The records indicate the rabbits had forty seven but no one could stay awake long enough to count the sheep. Noah was constantly fixing the holes in the woodpeckers door. After only twenty days, only halfway through the storm it has already seemed an eternity. Something had to give.
TBC

Noah’s Ark De Triomphe (part I)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

ark

Whatever Floats Your Boat Lord
The very second Eve placed her mouth on the forbidden fruit the serpent came alive. One look at the huge smile on Adams face made it obvious that sinning was enjoyable so it was no surprise it would become so popular. It wasn’t long before the garden turned into an outdoor den of inequity giving birth to what would be forever known as the oldest profession in the world. Evil penetrated (yes, penetrated) the entire crescent and sex and sinning were rampant. In fact sinning took the entire world by storm, which is exactly what gave God his big rainstorm/flood idea. God looked down from his floating throne taking notice of one man and his family that had somehow remained righteous while everyone around them were balling and screwing everything in sight. “Hmmmm, that Noah dude seems to have the where with all to resist the temptations of the flesh” he thought to himself. Likely it was by his wife constantly saying Noah nookie tonight babe, I have a headache that kept them free of the serpents grasp but whatever, it got the big mans notice. God decided it was Noah he would entrust with his plan to float the lucky few while he caused storms and floods to wipe out all sinning little bastards on earth. God sent word down to Noah of a plan, a very involved plan to build a floating zoo, a kind of jumbo ferry, a luxury Species Saver yacht that could withstand forty days and forty nights of cold Seattle rain.
Noah, a carpenter by trade, (Apparently the big guy has a thing for carpenters) was in his back yard constructing a small birdhouse when the still of the day was interrupted by a loud thunderclap. “NOAH!!!” The old man was startled, “Ah….who said that” In a deep voice that only Noah could hear his answer came, “Its me Noah, God.” Noah looked around to insure he was alone then checked to make sure he had taken his meds. “God? God who?” Obviously stressed out from all the sinners romping around in his world God showed his frustration. “Oh now don’t you start too Dag nab it. How many freaking gods do you know?” Noah pondered explaining the theory of polytheism but considering how loud the voice inside his head was getting he opted to play it cool. “oh I see, THE God. Sorry God, but its not like you come by regularly you know, I mean I didn’t even recognize your voice. Why are you calling on me anyway, your, um, what do I call you?” The voice in Noah’s head took on an air of patience, “Most people call me The Lord God Our Savior but Lord will do. I don’t want to sound like some lofty narcissist or anything. And you’re right, I should have called first but that’s not how it works in heaven. Look, I created this world, took me seven long hard days, and I put a lot of effort into it to have to watch all these frigging sinners getting naked and fornicating everywhere. You’d think I put men’s brains in their penises not in their heads, or maybe there was a typo in the memo and someone got heads mixed up. Anyway, I was watching you and your family and noticed none of you holy rollers sin and the idea struck me. You my righteous man are going to build me an ark, collect two of every animal, place them inside the ark and float to safety while I drown every living piece of feces in sight. I am going to fill the world with a rain like no ones ever seen before and kill every sinning piece of crap around. You Noah, will be the savior of the earth, the guardian of life.” Noah placed his head firmly in his hands squeezing them together as if the voice would ooze out from his ears and leave. “Is this for real, or is this early onset Alzheimer’s? Is someone pranking me? Where’s that Kushner kid? I am far from convinced lord, I’m gonna need a sign, some kind of proof that you really are the all mighty .” God lifted Noah by the scruff of his neck far above the mountains and dangled him over the Nile precariously. When he put Noah back down he was shaking wildly from fear. “Okay…So what’s the plan Lord God Our Savior?”
God told Noah he would return tomorrow with a blueprint of the ark and a list of all the things he would need including special diets and a comprehensive plan of which animals should be kept apart. Noah was still a bit stunned from being manhandled by God as well as perplexed on exactly how he was to accomplish the feat so he decided to go to town for a few beers to calm his nerves. The very second he opened the door to The Tree Of Life Tavern he understood what God was talking about. Right there on a table was a copulating couple oblivious to anyone else as they both screamed coming to an obvious simultaneous screeching orgasm. A huge multi participant orgy on the floor to left and some sort of bizarre circle of naked men on the right each of which apparently had their hands full. You could not only hear sex everywhere, there was so much sinning the air was thick with the smell of sex. Noah turned around and left feeling disgusted now determined to complete Gods task.
The next day Noah got the blueprint which was incredibly complicated. God spoke directly to him, “The instructions are written in five languages, you can pick up all the lumber and hardware you need in Sweden at a town called Ikea. Don’t worry if you have a few screws left over when your done, just toss them away we always put a few extras in. Build the arc, then We’ll talk about collecting the animals. You good with this Noah?” Noah’s head was spinning knowing what a huge undertaking he was about to embark on in addition to the ridiculing he would likely receive when his neighbors see a ginourmous boat in his yard. “Yea, I’m okay with this, but I do have one question. What in the hell is a cubit?”
As time passed Noah was out dutifully building this magnificent floating structure while withstanding the constant ridiculing of his neighbors once they discovered his plight. “Hey Noah, heard from God lately? Maybe a postcard from heaven or at least a voice mail?” “Tell the elephants to pack their own trunks” “Anyone need a floating Club Med resort for their yard? I Noah guy hhahaha” and so on. The humiliation was relentless. His family was beginning to worry about him when he stood at the top of the ark seemingly talking to the air, but Noah pushed on and kept building without a word. After five an a half months the ark was complete and harassment aside it was magnificent. A beautiful 300x500x300 cubit super yacht with sections upon sections of living quarters. When God came down with CO in hand for the final inspection he was pleased, “Noah this is beautiful. Oh Me Myself !What a wonderful job you did.” Noah was beaming with pride but wasn’t about to let the moment slip away without getting some answers.
“Thanks God, it wasn’t easy and I am laughed at from one end of the fertile crescent to the other. I nearly busted my ass literally more than once and I need to know just how all this is going to work. I get it, you’re gonna cause a meteorological catastrophe to wipe out sin while I’m supposed to get two of every animal, convince them to get on board then feed and shelter them. How am I suppose to get lions and sheep together at the dinner table?” Go handed Noah the CO, “That’s right Noah, ye of little faith. You will get all the animals on board into their quarters, feed them and shelter them while I literally rain death upon the world.” Noah still frustrated, “And you say this rain will continue going on for forty days? Seriously?” God chuckled, “And forty nights, it’s a special travel plan. And yes Noah, you need to do all this because I am going to bring on the rainstorm of all rainstorms and when your ark finally lands you and all those animals will get off the ark to start the new world. You and your wife will be my new more modern version of Adam and Eve. Just don’t let Mrs. Noah near the snakes!” Noah stared at God with doubt filled eyes. “You know Noah, it would be a shame after all the work you put in to end up drowning with all the sinners but if you’re not up for being my Caucasian crusader I’ll begin searching for a stronger race to take the ark.” Noah had a mild panic attack, “No no no, I’ll do it, I will! I wasn’t questioning you Lord, I guess I was just a bit frustrated, I’m sorry. I will take good care of all the animals.” God was feeling a bit smug having played the race card so expertly, “That’s better my son, now here’s the list of animals, their diets, and any special requirements my animals have. Very important! The termites must have all the leftover lumber in their suite or you will have major problems. But above all remember, you need to make sure that you have one male and one female of each species. I do not approve of any of that same sex nonsense! You have two weeks to assemble the zoo before the storm comes…. Oh and one more thing, make sure you bring my beautiful one horned creatures along, they’re kind of a favorite of mine plus but are tricky and may attempt to hide.” Noah mumbled to himself in his most sarcastic tone, “Here’s the list, don’t forget the one horn, bring an umbrella, special diets…pain in my ass!” A loud thunderclap caused Noah to shut up and cower, “You say something Noah?!” “No Lord, not a thing.”

TBC

Can’t Find A Better Man

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Uncategorized1 Comment

better man

There comes a point in everyone’s life that they think OMFG I look just like my father, or mother, as the case may be. We catch ourselves using some of the same phrases we hated as kids, saying things like “We’ll see” instead of no way kiddo, “I‘ll give you something to cry about”, or the ultimate in fear mongering, “If you don‘t keep quiet I‘m gonna turn us around and go back home.” Well Dad I have to tell you, this hurts me more than it does you because yesterday I caught myself pointing that finger of distain you were so good at. Holy shit I’m mimicking my parents bad behavior. But let me tell you that shit ain’t nothing compared to that day you look in the mirror and the face looking back is no longer the handsome rebel rouge but a carbon copy of your old parent. I would say its deflating but my stomach is as big as my Dads was and it is showing no signs of deflating. A combination of genetics, way too much beer, munchies, and constantly swallowing my pride. I remember thinking once that the bags under my fathers eyes could count as carry on luggage and the wrinkles in his not so tight fitting skin were not character lines but fault lines. Thing is his look somehow found its way over to me. And of course the hairline, or lack there of which has gone way beyond receding has gone topless. Now on my license I’m required to list my hair color as transparent!
This getting old and looking like Dad shit is enough to turn me into a grumpy old man except I don’t have the energy it takes to be grumpy all the time. Trips to the bathroom, which are like a recurring bad dream at night, leave me short of breath, and every morning all my weary bones complain in a crackling and creaking language called osteoporosis. But such is life I’m not the only one infected with the “It sucks getting old” virus and like most everyone who reaches the age of reflection I wonder about my mistakes, where could I have done better ,what things could I have changed. In the end its just flat out too late, what’s done is done and history can’t change. Fostering regrets are fruitless growths that like weeds can destroy the memories of a beautiful garden an at this point in my life I spend a lot of time in the garden and have no use for weeds. I know I’ve had my fair share of mistakes, made some poor choices, wandered down some questionable paths but WTF, it is what it is and many of the bad choices are now some pretty goddamn funny stories. Life is what we make of it and not a single thing we do can change what’s passed.
I’ve lost both my parents and had to view their stages of death like some morose real life film. With my Mom I witnessed the horrible ravages of cancer as it slowly decayed her mind and body while ripping out the hearts of our family simultaneously. My Mom and I had many issues with each other but we finally saw eye to eye a few months before she took ill. My Dad died from cancer as well, but it was much quicker and more merciful as well as occurring many years into his life. One of the odder effects aging had on him was his renewal of his long overlooked religious rituals and beliefs. I assume he was hedging his bets, stacking the deck in case he was wrong about the significance of religion and if he really did meet his maker wanted a few years of church on his resume to heaven. He was seeking validation, not only with God but with his children. As his time came closer he had a rare opportunity of connecting with his children, something he wasn‘t especially apt at as when we were growing up.
His reflections found all of us reflecting as well, I can’t speak for my four older brothers or my younger sister but many things I reflected on as to my Dads fathering was weak at best. I always loved him but to me he wasn’t the greatest Dad he could have been. Not saying it was a crap way to grow up or he mistreated or abused me but as I reflect on my childhood I realized my Dad was negligent to his own kids. Never once had a catch out back with me, never took me fishing, never even gave me the sex talk, those were all jobs of my older brothers. My Dad spent most of his adult life building his community reputation convincing near about everyone not living under his roof that he is the perfect father. Ward Cleaver crossed with Steve Douglass and Andy of Mayberry and me as Dennis the Menace. Actually one of my older brothers was the menace, I was more like Beaver Cleaver I guess. Our friends and neighbors would proclaim how lucky we were to have him as our father and how perfect our lives must be. Upon reflection he was a helluva father figure to the neighborhood kids but spent little to no time with his own. I think the most attention I ever got from him was on those few, very rare few….Okay maybe more than a few encounters with the long arm of the law. When it came to his son placing a mark on his precious reputation he flew into damage control, me being the damage.
I went sort of underground for a while and lost contact with my family soon after my Mom passed away. When I finally reinstated contact with my Dad he was married and living in Florida, so he and his wife flew into New York to meet me. After a big hug he turned to his wife and said to me, “Meet your new Mom” Now if I were like say ten that might be appropriate, but I was in my thirties and had been on my own for quite some time and in no need of a mother. It just sort of underscored for me how out of touch he was with me and what the center of the universe was for him. But fuck it. No big deal, that’s the way my old man was so I just rolled with it, never fostered any anger or resentment, so I wrote it off as past practices and repeated history. That was his vision of how to be a successful parent, find a woman to do the parenting for him. All in all he was a good man, volunteer fireman his whole life, on the volunteer rescue squad every Sunday, and was what they called a “Well respected man about town” But truth is for me he was just a crap Dad, seldom took me anywhere with him, only showed interest in things if it involved him. Like I say, I always loved him, he wasn’t a bad man he just neglected his own children and concentrated on the community. When he reached the point where all he had left was reflection it began to haunt him and he wanted to make amends.
I know some of my brothers allowed him to talk, some didn’t , my sister surely did as he spent his last days in her house. I have never been one to hold a grudge, I find the weigh far to much to carry around all the time so I was very attentive hearing him reveal his laments of a failed fatherhood. He repeated phrases like “I know I wasn’t always there for you boys” or “I wish I had been a better father” I deflected most of it allowing him his confessions. I gotta admit though, it did seem like an opportunity to unleash decades of pent up frustration at my Dad for never being there for me, for not accepting me for who I am until I left his life for a few years, and for constantly attempting to steer me away from what I really wanted to do, write, or act, or something in the arts, at times even forcefully. My last four years of high school he spent telling me I would never make any money because I have no talent, and I should either get into business courses or face the fact I will be a laborer the rest of my life. I began to wonder if some of my poor life choices, my pension for self medication and such were not a direct result of his interference. Maybe if he had spent more quality time with me I would have made better choices myself. But no, those choices were all mine, I own them. I could have gone other ways but I chose what I chose not because of my own insecurities, not any brought on by either parent. Then again, what the hell, I had him in a position in which he would be forced to hear me out and these angers are much more deep rooted than I had previously believed. I thought about all the things I could say to my father, unleash on him all that he deserves, because it wasn’t just me, he treated my brothers the same way. Yea my brothers, all of which became devoted fathers with great relationship with their children. Everyone of us spent time with our kids, why couldn’t he? Then it struck me, maybe we were all such hands on Dads because our Dad wasn’t. So he inadvertently taught us more about family than he knew. And really, what did I honestly know about how he was raised, my grandparents were great as grams and gramps but I wonder if they were great as parents. You never know, maybe he had it worse than us. A decision had to be made, I was calling him up for perhaps the last time ever, the doctor said it could be an hour or it could be a day, but no more than four or five days tops because he had aggressive brain cancer.
I called my Pops for what I was sure would be the last time. Give him shit and feel better or let it go? I listened intently as he rambled on about all the things he felt he did wrong as a father and he hit on a good portion, but left out some important errors that effected me personally so when he finally stopped talking ready to listen I took a deep breath and said, “No Dad, that’s not true….. You were a… You were a great father, you loved us all and we all knew it. I wouldn’t trade you as my Dad for any other father in the world, you were perfect and I love you.” There was silence on the phone. Well not total silence, I could hear a soft sniffle and knew my Dad was crying, hopefully from joy and relief. During that silence I realized that for all the faults he may have had, he taught me something priceless. My father taught me how to be a better man, and I hope I passed that along to my son in my own way. My Dad gathered his composure, cleared his throat an said, “Thank you son, I love you too.”
That was the last words my Dad spoke to me. It was in stark contrast to the last thing my Mom said to me which was “Who are you? I don‘t know you!” But that was the cruel ravages of cancer that robbed not only my Moms life, but didn’t have the mercy to let her leave with the quiet dignity she maintained her entire life. Maybe he wasn’t the most perfect Dad, maybe there no such thing, but I am a loving caring father and that had to come from somewhere. Thanks Mom and Dad, you made me a better man.

The Existential Bakers Guide To Coping With Stress

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

DeadTopper

Stress is a most dangerous emotion no matter what religion you practice. I bet given enough time and the right person even the Dalia lama could lose it an be sent into a tirade. “You better hope I don’t see you in next life because Dalia Lama never forget face!” Why? Because stress is just the trigger for being really pissed off, the motivation to become a temporary mixed martial arts expert an unleash your fury on the on pissing you off. At that moment. But stress does other shit to us too, it alters us mentally, emotionally, an even physically in ways that are out of our control. Or is it?
Most of us, unfortunately, are all too familiar with the five steps of grieving. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. It takes a long time to reach the level of acceptance because when we lose someone we love very dearly it leaves a void that can never be completely filled but in order to continue living we find a way to manage the pain and the loss. So we go through the stages in order to cope with our loss. The same stages apply to stress.
Stress doesn’t leave a void but rather creates a spike in anger and frustration that raises the blood pressure and effects our overall health negatively. It can be dealt with in many ways, weed, xanax, vodka, primal scream all the way up to murder, which I personally don’t recommend. But the end result is the same as grieving, acceptance. Stress also involves that all too familiar five stage process and as an existentialist I have trained myself to go directly to the acceptance stage at the start, thereby decreasing the power the stressful situation holds over me. As an example I will use the very stress inducing situation of a traffic jam which causes many an over-extension middle finger injury as well as an unnecessary blinding road rage to fill the inside of your vehicle. I find it works best to just realize at the onset that I cannot control the jam, if I am going to be late all the screaming and middle finger waving in the world will not get me to be where I need to be on time.
The anguish riddled inconvenienced traffic negotiator goes through the five stages of stress. He comes upon the traffic jam and heads directly into denial. “Oh no, not now! This can’t be fucking happening, not today. God dammit this is not happening to me.” This often escalates rapidly to the anger stage in which the middle finger exercises its right to free speech, the head often takes to trembling, and the driver voices his opinion paying strict attention to the vocabulary he learned in the schoolyard not the classroom. “Are you fucking kidding me?? Pull the fuck up asshole! Move you piece of shit fucking worthless scum. Get off your god damn phone dipshit and move!!” Anger as an emotion is seldom in a hurry and loves to stay and visit so this stage will last quite a long time. Usually until enough yelling is done to satisfy the stressed out driver that every other driver on the road understands that their appointments pale in comparison to the depth of importance of the angry drivers schedule. But inevitably, once the face is full to the brim with angry throbbing blood vessels anger concedes to bargaining. “Oh my God if you make this traffic go away I’ll go to church every Sunday for a year. Maybe if I go this way I’ll save some time. There has to be an alternative route!” ……….. After all alternative routes have been exhausted and traffic is still laughing it ass off directly into the drivers face is when depression sets in. “God fucking dammit, why always me? Why do I always get stuck in this bullshit? What the Hell did I ever do to deserve this?” Finally the angry driver relents and accepts the fact that we live in a three dimensional world and cannot travel through the other cars but must obey the laws of physics governing that all things are made of matter and solid object such as automobiles and trucks are impenetrable without serious consequences. Once the driver has complete the first four steps, denied it will last, shouted every expletive in the known universe and begins foaming at the mouth, finished figuring out a way out of the mess, an fought back the tears of defeat he’s ready for acceptance. At this point he may begin forming and practicing his role as the apologetic late arriver. “I am so sorry I’m late the traffic was unreal, I swear I left in plenty of time but first there was construction, then an accident, and the traffic was relentless. I did everything I could to get here on time, I am so so sorry” or he may opt to just allow his anger to apologize for him, “I can’t believe this damn traffic, I swear there has to be a better way. If you have to go anywhere DON’T take the highway! Friggen traffic, what’d I miss?” Either way he allowed stress to ruin his day, or at the very least his morning.
I get that its hard, but with the practice and meditation it is existentially possible to convert this conundrum of traffic jam into a less stressful and perhaps even temporarily enjoyable ride. The existentialist knows he is going to face whatever consequences he must for being late, but only need to suffer them at the moment of impact with whomever it caused distress. Worrying about the consequence in the car merely prolongs the life of the consequence. Accept that even if existing there are and never have been any god or gods that would concern themselves in the slightest with your traffic plight. They would be far too busy keeping their promises to football players, baseball players, and boxers who have all petitioned them for a win. Accept the fact that no matter how you react, the vehicle in front of you will not simply go away. Select some favorite music, put in a CD,(EB recommends some Grateful Dead, or even some Traffic, ironically) adjust the interior temperature to a comfortable position and go with the flow, however slow. Amuse yourself by checking out the inflamed angry faces of other rivers who are stuck in the stage and far away from acceptance. Wave to them, blow them a kiss. It make them even more angry and stressed and the amusement you get will help you to forget you may be losing your job, or an account, or just en route to an enraged person at the other end of your trip. On the other hand, don’t mistake kindness for weakness because even though you may see an existentialist smiling, almost enjoying a traffic jam he is still just as fragile as the rest of the world and if you happen to push him too far…. I will kick the everloving shit out of you motherfucker!…. I mean, he will respond accordingly….Peace

Cupcake Wrapper’s Delight… by Vanilla Cupcake Dude

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

c-dude

Yo, Yo,
Everyone from the 123, grab a cupcake and follow me
Look, look.
I’m the cupcake dude and I’m here to say
Eat friggen cupcakes every day
Sweet and airy that’s my style
Eat one now it makes you smile
Pistaciaretto or Spice N Ice
Vanilla Classic is really nice
I dig Utopia and Serenity Now
But Sexy Sadie man make you say wow
WOW
Yea cup cup cupcakes, we got em stacked
Jarets Stuffed Cupcakes are really whack
Come on in you’ll dig the taste
Raz beret or raspberry lace
These cupcakes man their the bomb
Bring a dozen home give em to your mom, ….WORD!
Yea I make cupcakes that’s what I do
A hundred eighty flavors just for you
Cool Runnings, Red Velvet make you sing
Canoli eclipse and Bada Bing
If you got taste buds bring em to me
I’ll make them buds as happy as budds can be
Yea, yea, Jarets, yea Yea yea, Cupckaes Yea.
Eat em up Y’all
Jarets Stuffed Cupcakes
http://www.suffedcupcakes.com
Tell them The Cupcake Dude sent ya!