Freshly cracked hosky is on deck. The Blues Kitchen will be shakin' a tail feather as the goin's on proceed for the throwdown this eve as per Food on a Stick. This throwdown inparticular has me somewhat at a loss for ideas and verily verklempt! I am counting on alcohol to be the vehicle to push me through to one of the elusive throwdown doors of perception. Were Aldous Huxley here right now I would consult him directly on a recipe. 'Cept his would have mescaline in it or some such hallucinogen. I don't really need that ya'll as I'm enough of a whackjob as it is. Once the hosky kicks in I shall prepare to do battle. Cast iron. Check. Tequila. Check. Pequins. Check. Habanero's. Check. Muddy Waters. Check. Limes. Check. Meat product. Check. Punji sticks. Check. For the rest....I may rely on a game winning strategy of complete chaos and utter bullshit and hope that the time and space continuum will take care of the rest....
Chaos...its what's for dinner!
Salute', TB.