mattx owns you.

Potential is a shoddy tavern with 3 rag tag regulars
A dive bar with an aspiring new owner who can't wait for his vision to blossom
A hole in the wall nestled in a "cute" or "quaint" portion of the village
A district of the village that thrives on a sparse community yearning to save itself
A community who's only desire is to reconstruct the dream of their town
A town that holds the same promise as fluffing a pillow


Promise is a lidless jar of mismatched screws and little hardware
A bottomless go-to scenario that always takes donations but rarely coughs up solutions
A container that sits on the top shelf, all alone near the back
A shelf who's dominant feature is it's layers of dust and safe height away from children or pets.

Faith is a home made splint on a compound fracture.

Hope is a morsel instead of a meal.

Dreams are the plague you can't face when your eyes are opened.

Adventure is a system of micromanaging your mortal thresholds.

Desire is a one person hug.



And you are measured in your life by these earthly units of standard that wear mythic robes.



You are held up to the sun, or under the magnifying equipment, only to be compared amongst the ant farm.


Just one ant. One of millions.
A 'special' little ant that has been programmed to try harder.
And not only thrive, and maintain a sense of self in this ocean of millions.
But to extend your hands to the heavens and pull down some sort of triumph.
A triumph that sets you apart.

Like a karate trophy proudly displayed amongst your many years of spelling bee accolades.
Both of which you were talented enough to get, but only one of which carries any sort of mainstream respect.

All of which were obtained while digging out your little section in the dirt.
A life long personal victory that will in the end, just be "paving the way for the greater good".


To excel at these facades makes you a hero that still dies alone.
Who lives forever in stories and tribute,
But ultimately is a decaying mass buried to refuel the very earth
That he or she just tried to survive on.


In all of this, my true respect only goes out to one soul.
The one being that saw all this fantasy and lore for what it really is.
The person that dubbed this whole charade "the rat race".

Because what are we?
Nothing more than a slightly sophisticated bunch of vermon
flowing through a predestined obstacle course
being spit out to an option-less ending

before being gathered up and flushed back in to the cages...

...until the next maze is constructed.

Just a bunch of bellies fighting for that cheddar.

Find hope in that. Fulfill your petty desire in that.
Strive for and unlock your potential in that stupid fucking race.

The peasants are the visionaries that have this whole shebang figured out.

first off FUCK COWBOY TROY...you are a mockery and a puppet.



now onto Palin....

well played elephants.

i watched the palin part, for giggles and here are my thoughts.

cheers:
we really need a cougar for a VP. someone i can get behind. i am really into feisty mouthy condescending women. especially fertile ones that just keep cranking out supreme beings







jeers:

ok the pregnant daughter thing...almost every person i know (excluding megan of course) was doing the horizontal hula at 17. my mom had me when she was that young. sometimes sex makes babies, and we should accept that...

pistol being preggers doesn't matter.

however the repulicans are just of guilty of sloppy cover up as the demo-gods and big press are for trying to smear palin with it...

notice anytime they showed her at the RNC she is either holding the youngest baby in the fam (trim or whatever his name is) OR she is holding the boyfriends hand...have you never watched West Wing?

we are all smart enough (i hope) to see through these charades.

god you banged the wrong chick hockey hair...i m saving you a spot at the bar so we can drink scotch and look back...

she did call Obama out on the Greek Column thing in the speech. she has fangs, no mistake.

but everyone is a little too stoked about this ace up the sleeve.

i personally am afraid of both her and obama...

oh well, it was good t.v.

BLACK LABEL FIESTA CHILI

Synopsis: I like my chili like i like my women. Chunky and spicy. If you are looking for a saucy thin chili that you can serve in a nursing home, move on. This is chili you eat with a fork and some milk. Now let's dance.


INGREDIENTS

:::MEAT GROUP:::
1 LB Ground Beef


:::SAUCES:::
1/2 cup Bill Johnson's Mesquite BBQ sauce

1/8 oz Tabasco

2 8 oz cans Tomato Sauce


:::CANNED GOODS:::
1 15 oz. can Kidney Beans

1 14.5 oz can Whole Tomatoes

1 14.5 oz can Whole Kernel Corn

1 6 oz can/jar Mixed Mushrooms


:::SPICES:::
1/4 TBSP Chili Powder

1/8 TSP Jerk Blend Powder

1/2 TBSP Italian Seasoning

1/8 tsp Garlic Powder

1/4 TBS Oregano

1/8 TSP Celery Seed


:::FRESH VEGGIES:::
1/4 Cup Yellow Onion (Diced)

1 stalk of Green Onion

1 Serrano Chili (Seeded and Diced)

3 whole Vine Tomatoes (Speared)


------------

Prep and cut all vegetables first and place in large bowl.

Brown the meat in a frying pan in a garlic infused oil, do not cook all the way through just brown...add about a quarter of the diced Yellow Onion's to Ground Beef when browning. Drain and set aside.


Add BBQ sauce and Tabasco into base of slow cooker and set slow cooker to low.


Drain and chop canned tomatoes and add to large bowl, then drain all canned items and add them as well. Next combine spices, diced Yellow Onions, diced Serrano Peppers, and speared Vine Tomatoes.

Add Ground Beef and Tomato Sauce to the large bowl.

Add Ground Pepper to your liking and NO SALT!

Mix with your hands!!!

Add concoction to Slow Cooker ,then layer the top of mix with more BBQ sauce.

Stir the BBQ sauce down into the mix.

Stir it up every hour, let cook for 8 hours.

Serves 4.

From here on out...my Left bicep well only answer to the name "Shawshank" as the Right one has acquired the handle "The Widowmaker".  As i have often referred to them in a generic way as guns, they will now be professionally and collectively recognized as "The Troops".