(El barrio chicos y chicas)
I'm becoming much better at this cooking thing. Soon, this site will be dedicated to recipes and culinary portraiture. Last night, My buddy and the boy's buddy came over for dinner. Four dudes. Pork chops and asparagus on the grill, a pasta and creamy cheese sauce on the stove (mostly for the boys). A nice Claret from Donati, a sustainable farming vineyard somewhere between here and LA. Deliciousness, oh my sweet and juicy pork.
A Claret with pork, you say? Yes, yes, deliciousness.
Side note: A recent commenter took my article seriously and actually responded to a post I wrote about using nasal drops in my eyes. Here it is, for your holistic edification and entertainment.
I think that I am just the right person to give medical advice, and my dermatologist agrees. Does everybody remember a few months back when I self-diagnosed skin cancer? My doctor said Oh no, no, no… Well, I went back and got a second opinion, from him, and Oh yes, yes, yes…. I was quite right, and he acknowledged his initial misdiagnosis. He froze the spot and instructed me not to get it wet, but I forgot that it was there and scratched it, ripping the layer of dying cancer cells and revealing the new layer of skin that was trying to form underneath. I immediately claimed that the region was in intense pain and begged him for opioids, gibbering about existential discomfort.
So, once again, I am a cancer survivor. Suck it, Western Medicine… I defeated mine mostly with the memories of non-medical marijuana.
The mind is still the great healer, the metaphysical physician.