Hobo Stackers

I started this post hours ago, then drunkenly lost the draft. Brava me.

It stopped raining, four days later, so I have one less excuse for my misery. Apparently it was sunny for a few hours today which would be exciting if I hadn't been sleeping.

As it turns out nobody likes to socialize with someone who is sad, lonesome, and in a piss poor state of consciousness. Talk about a rock and a hard place. Try being completely heartbroken and yearning for affection. I guess in the scheme of things I have learned that even those you hold dearest wont tolerate you for very long if you are in dire emotional stress. Yet even now I am being negative, so who can blame them? Perhaps hobos have it down pat, riding the rails, campfires and beans etc., maybe that is the life for me. They even have their own language written out in graffiti, and I do enjoy trains and whiskey, and I have always wanted to learn the banjo. Then again, what would happen to all of my recipes? I'd have to convert them into hobo language.

I did play online poker tonight for the first time. I won six dollars, horray me. If I mix in a little bingo and maybe some cribbage perhaps I'll hit the big time.

Here is one for the books, wholeheartedly by a series I would like to deem "Ingredients: With Thomas." Like many of my recipes, this was inspired by the most heartfelt and depressed of the American frontiersmen.. the Hobo.


Hobo Stackers

Ingredients:
sardines in mustard sauce
cherry pepper relish
provolone cheese
saltines

Assemble in whatever order you like. There is really no way to make this snack look appetizing.

Just Some Fucking Pasta

I didn't get my nap today. I went to the bar and got drunk with a guy who works there, name'a Kenny. I played Louis Armstrong, Neil Young and others on the juke and bullshitted about good bartenders, daughters and God. Todd hasn't posted anything in a few days. Am I at this alone? Drafts don't count. It has been many an hour since I have slept. I wanted to tear up or bust up or smash up the bar and tell everyone in there that I am the second or sixth coming of Jesus Christ and they're not following protocol. Instead, I drove home and made hamburger infused pasta. I miss you. I smoked a lot of cigarettes today. I am going to watch Revolutionary Road now. I hope I fall asleep before it is over.

L.V. Ceviche

It seems it's easier to embrace a new day if I do not leave the last. It will be easy to take an afternoon nap. I am currently out of cigarettes. I know there has to be a few stale butts lying around here somewhere, I just don't want to go to the trouble of scrounging them up. I'd end up with half of a gnawed at cigar from last summer and all of my furniture upside down.
The cat has been staring at me for most of the night. I don't know what she wants. I fed her and even drizzled tuna water on her food. I scooped her shit-box. I folded her blanket... I am at a loss.
I may attempt cleaning my car this morning. It's really packed with junk and has an odor.


Lehigh Valley Ceviche

Ingredients:

One can of tuna
Hot sauce
Two eggs

Open the can of tuna and empty its contents into a bowl. Toss tuna in hot sauce, set aside. Fill the bottom of a pan with water(about an inch deep) and bring it to a boil. Place the empty tuna can into the pan. Crack an egg into the can and let it cook. Remove the cooked egg. Repeat. You should now have two egg patties. Sandwich the tuna between the two eggs. Pepper?

Klonopin Chicken

I woke up with a rotisserie chicken carcass in my bed.