By a show of hands (comments) who would call the above picture "Scrambled Tofu"? And I know you guys are crazy with comments - so crazy that when I take them away you ask for them back and yet now that they're back I've received no comments. But I guess you're all too busy doing drugs and getting laid in your parents Buicks to do a simple key stroke. Anyway, the Square Cafe claims to have a "Tofu Scramle" and yet they serve chunks of Tofu. If I made you scrambled eggs the eggs wouldn't be hard broiled chunks mixed with greens. I wrote the owner an email. I'll post it below id est because I know no limits. The title was "Suggestion".

Hi,

My wife and I just ate at the Square Cafe this morning. The food was not bad, good I mean, but we had a problem with the presentation. (If that's the right word?) We love Scrambled Tofu and so checked the on-line menu before venturing out. Our only other option is the Quiet Storm, where the service is terrible, or the Food Co-op (on Sundays only and where, as with all of their hot foods, there is an overabundance of ingredients) and Zenith - but I think only on Sundays as well. Needless to say we were thrilled to see you had Scrambled Tofu. My question to you is this: would you call chunks of hard broiled eggs mixed with green and red peppers scrambled eggs? Of course not. But that is what you have done with the Scrambled Tofu. It's not a bad meal, but it's not scrambled Tofu either. Maybe "Tofu stir fry" would be a more apt description. I know you could do a great scrambled Tofu dish, but as is, you have not and therefore should not have such a title on the menu.

Please understand this is just a suggestion to better your already wonderful restaurant.

best,
Jason

The owner probably hates my guts by now. I have the day off. Again I looked to a fail-safe resource and found even more handy tips.

On a day of sweet release such as a Sabbath or daie offe feel free to press your friends for coitus. If such an encumbrance be granted, with both sides of equal understanding as to the tight-lipped (opposite of pun intended!) nature of said tryst, the reward is of an obvious benefit. My only suggestion, humble of course, is that you find out first the nature and timing of his or her crowning point. Let this be your aim, and - please dear sweet bosom friend - tell your fornication help mate your own individual point of dying. If sex in the classic Kamasutratic sense is not possible due to overt Catholic upbringing yielding regret and guilt please attempt a reconciliation (pun intended!) yielding paw jobs. After all: a day of sweet release, even in the laissez-faire sense of daie offe, should, in fact, always include an orgasme in the biblical sense. In the words of our esteemed colleague Lorenzo the Magnificent: "Always to invade, always to surrender, always to die and be-come ."

But...I got nervous and took a nap.

Em was different.

So was Beth.

You might not be able to tell, but that's Beth riding the bull. NO BULL!

Too cool.

When are girls going to stop loving technology and get back to their roots?

Emily was thrilled.

Shawn and Sarah.

Denny, Shawn's Dad, dancing with his new daughter in-law.

Beth trying to be somebody.

I just don't want you to levitate over my motorcy--CLE.

She was really tall this one day, so she clobbered this dumpster. And then ate a too small taco.

Vin and Shawn trying to have a bachelor party.

Anachronisms

Beth was a big help on moving day.

Thank god.

You may now kiss the title transfer.

It took 9 months and $650 worth of reluctant price reductions but I have finally done it. Sold it to a stout, friendly Harley Davidson riding, grizzly beard and yellow-tinted sunglasses wearing man, who I will call Dan, because that was his name. He offered me $350 and I said, "Thank You." He took me to a notary public in Wilmerding to whom he always goes. I was expecting a bland office, maybe next to the Dollar Bear, the kind with the gray pavement-like carpet, adorned minimally with calendar, framed documents, pictures of his kids and grand kids - I think you know the type. Instead we got a guy sitting on a recliner, feet atop a brown leather ottoman watching Disney, while his twin bed, made of course, sat within leg's length. The room was divided, though, so not completely fucked. We entered the 'office', which was about five feet away from where he sat, in between this a waist high wall, covering half of the opening, pretended to make the office an office and the living room a living room, but we all knew what was going on here. He ran a notary from his makeshift basement living room. And his turquoise t-shirt, which was obviously designed to destroy anyone's sense of rationality, read "That's Mayor Coochie to you!" I just tried to ignore the shirt and hoped, in spite of where I was sitting, that this was going to go quickly.

It turns out that Coochie is his nick name. This I learned from a plaque on the bar-cum-'where the copier goes now'. And it turns out that Coochie knows how to make haste. Out of there in 10 minutes, all told. As I left I looked back at a sign near the door that read, "I do Marriages." Could you imagine? I now pronounce you Depressed and Regretful, you may watch Disney in my twin bed.

I have to leave for work. I can't post right now. I don't have time. I work at 7:30. It is 7:12. I have to go. But I just wanted to remind everyone what Thursday holds. In it's little pocket.

I got hemp milk because it was not only a milk alternative, but a functioning alarm clock - ok I shouldn't say 'functioning' if the alarm only sounds at 4:20 with 'Is this Love?' by Bob Marley - and also because it smokes itself.

But I wish I hadn't.

Mild Verse

I was grating a carrot this morning, just for the hell of it, and asked Emily if there was any use for the greens. She found out you could cook them. And so for dinner we had carrot and beet greens with pesto penne. We also watched 4 episodes of Lost throughout the day. I can't stand not watching it. Only 4 episodes to a disc though brother. Brother Netflix that is.

I have a problem. I can't stop buying books online! I have developed a squander-some love for the feel of new paperbacks. And stiff library copies won't suffice. I've bought 5 so far. And this after years of not buying books online. Oh dear friends: chastise but empathize!

Soon I will take Emily to work. And the night feels quiet. The hypnotic sussurration of crickets and cars, the imperceptible dialogue between neighbors, the pitch perfect wind coming in through windows ajar. Poesy aside, the night is quiet.

The air conditioning is broken at my place of earnings. I have my theories, as far as the cause of this disruption. All of them written in red, as it were. Possibly a bird flapped its wings in Sambuca. I got a book through the post to-day. The cover reads Richard and then Yates. I've read two maybe three stories from this particular binding? Who can tell these days. After kids started getting bused to school, things like the remembrance of stories-read went downhill. I'll tell you what, it's always something. If it's not one thing, well, I'll tell you what, it's another. I'm going to get another tattoo. And wrap it around my right arm.

Emily is sinus-sick. So she is staying in to-night. But I am staying out to-night. With the boys. Just a boys night out. Me 'n a coupla fellas, gon dan Tuggies, ketch us a few burds, lay at 'n a sun, tug us a few fishies, have us a coupla bonas.

Instead of sleeping I am typing this. Excuse me.

That's the kind of day I had.

Options

I should have known better than to ask for comments - that's never a good idea. But I thought: people read this, surely they will want to comment if I ask them. Especially if I go a step further and say that this will make me feel loved. Instead I got none. Which means that no one reads my blog or that the people who do read my blog do not love me. There are no other options. If a person thought there were more options, unlike myself, that person could say, "Maybe you did not give them enough time to respond." Hardly. Or, "Maybe, just maybe, they hate you." Even 'other-option-guy' is on my side.

I am left no other option but to buy a bit of rope and a book of knots. The rest will leave me dangling 3 ft from the floor unto oblivion. Of course every new phase of life, even a phase to end life, begins with a purchase. If anyone read my blog, which I am forced to think no one does because no commented on the one blog I specifically asked them to, they could refer back to this post and see my lucid proof of the matter.

I needed a bit of rope. I went the hardware store.

This particular hardware store did not have a book of knots, but I was sure I could make a sufficient knot on my own, even if I could not garner a single comment on my own. I thought of naming the knot I'd make, how I'd get a lot of attention and get the knot named after me. I thought other things too. Of the chair gently tipping and my body's quick silent plummet.

Unlike most people, like the people who do or do not read this, the cashier was most interested in my life. But 60 year old men often make chit chat. I wasn't about to let some short, cheery old man turn my death wish around.

"What's the rope for, Little Prince?"

"How nice of you to ask," I said, "this bit of rope is for me to kill my self with this."

I believe the lighting caused me to stammer. "Oh no. But why has your life been of so little attention to cause you to do this thing?" They really should change the lights, possibly go to an energy-saver.

"Well, it may seem silly to you," I condescended to the cashier, "but I asked people to comment on my blog and no did it this thing."

This next part changed it all.

"But I planned on commenting, Little Prince. I was thinking of a good thing to say." I was taken back.

"You - read my blog?"

"Oh yes! Me and my wife read it out louds."

"That's weird," I said. "I thought it'd be..."

"Different?" He knew what I was going to say before I said it!

"Wait, how did you know I was going to say that?" He was smiling now, actually blushing.

"Aw shucks", and he reached for his neck.

"Are you ok?" I asked. "Bad scratch?" But he wasn't scratching. He was taking off his mask!

And I thought I had seen it all, I said to myself. And slapped my little knee. Threw out my back.

As the mask was coming off I started thinking of people it could be. Of the people I thought of not one was my wife. But here she was, making me eat shit!

We ended up having sex right there in the middle of the store, which was really a set. No wonder they didn't have a book of knots, I thought.

After it was over and we had brushed the sawdust off each other's back, I grabbed the rope and ran out the door. "A blog is a blog, " I said. To no one in particular. I headed for Turtle's Creek. Found a big gully. Tied that rope on a sturdy branch and swung out into the luminous night.

BLOW UP MY LOVE

I've spent most of my night looking at book covers. Mainly books that I want to own like The Moonstone, CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, Independence Day, Eleven Kinds of Loneliness, The Stories of John Cheever, The stories of Anton Chekhov, The Good Soldier (If only because Ford Madox Ford is such a good name), etc. I've just been looking around, ok? And I was really impressed by the covers I saw at this site (if you'd just scroll a bit down). I became so obsessed by the specific cover I wanted that I took to emailing about 10 or 15 sellers on Amazon about it. By the way, isn't this the best cover you've ever seen of In Cold Blood? Blow up my comments!

Also: I made Quinoa (pronounced keen-WAH, not qua-no, which is what I kept saying to Tanner last night and he got right pissed)

It. Is. Amazing! Please just make it and eat it, ok? Here's my recipe:

1 cup of Quinoa, supposedly wash it first under cold water, but I forgot both times and it was delicious.

2 cups chicken broth, or 'no-chicken broth' if you're into letting down your friends and becoming a vegetarian. (or just water, unfiltered and au natural - which is a lie)

Some veggies, like mushrooms and sweet peas.

Bring this to a boil.

Immediately lower heat to simmer and cover, QUICK!

Wait like 10 to 15 minutes until the quinoa absorbs the water. Make sure to not blink while it simmers. For Chrissake, don't breathe either - just. WAIT!

Eat with Chicken nuggets, ONLY. Or, if you are a let down like me: fake/mock/not chicken nuggets.

I bought one book tonight, guess which one I bought? Blow up my comments! I want to get loved.

What did the bra say to the hat?

"You go on ahead, I'll hold these two up."

It is 5:19 am and I am going into work very shortly. I should be done around 2 or 3, maybe even earlier. I just read that the new Indiana Jones has a name and a release date, which is really exciting. It's going to be called "Indiana Potter and the Temple of Doom 2." The release date is Em and I's 4 year anniversary. Though by then we will be half way through our 8th year of a relationship. It's going to be called "Jasana Rones and the Last Chiarade." Yeah, I don't know what my problem is.