Two blogs in one week. Sha-bam!

The Liberian food pyramid.
I was chatting with one of my brothers last night via the cellular telephone (so fucking crazy that I can talk to someone across an ocean as if I were sitting right next to them, Well as long as when you sit with people you can only here every other word and you have to keep calling them back) and I was telling him about the Liberian food pyramid I had devised in my head. I cant say that it is the food pyramid for all Liberians, I can just say it is for the white man in Kanwekan. It is somewhat like the American food pyramid we are all used to seeing in school except way less complicated; there is only three sections. The bottom part is all just carbs: bread, rice, and noodles. Heavy on the rice. The middle part is just an egg and cookies, I know those two don’t got together in the Health Association one, but fuck that this is my fucking food pyramid so I can put what I want together how I want. If you don’t like it build your own damned pyramid. Anywho the capstone to it would be mayonnaise because you put that shit on everything. Than in a magic force field around the whole pyramid is pepper (yea I know that’s 4 parts but the force field does not count). You live, breath, sweat, and pee pepper here. Seriously I spend a good 20 minutes of everyday laying on the floor in my dirty ass house sweating up buckets of saline solution and tearing up in pain because my mouth is on fire. Sadly in about 72 hours I will find myself in the same situation, but this time it’s not my mouth that burns and I am in the business office. I eat so much pepper that I don’t know if I will ever be able to taste anything other than flaming hot spicy again in my life. But the Liberians tells me it makes me strong, but then again the Liberians also say that eating something rotten makes you strong, so I don’t know if they trust their sense of what makes you strong. Also they have two different definitions of the word strong and I can never tell which one they really mean. One is that it makes you like physically and mentally strong, and the other is that it gives you a raging boner. Maybe they always mean both? O here is some advice to middle aged gentleman if you cant pop the tent don’t throw your money away on Viagra, instead just take a shot of Walker Red Label, one raw egg, and of course a little pepper. I have it on good authority this will make you strong all night long. Just donate all the money you save on penis pills to children in Africa and we will consider it even.
Yesterday whilst sitting in a tiny little shack in the jungle hammering down some cane juice, it also makes you strong, I was having a chat with a man about the importance of traveling. You must always be moving we said, it is terrible to say in place. Then he said something that I really loved The world is always moving, it is rotating, so to be alive on earth is to be moving, you cant fight that. Maybe all the people trying to stay in one place are always sad because they know they cannot stay in one place. Its no good to stay static the very nature of being alive on the globe entails a lot of movement whether you want it to or not. You are spinning hundreds of thousands of miles everyday and traveling millions of miles every year because we are all on Spaceship Earth. (Credit Wet Hot American Summer for Spaceship Earth)
So last night I was chillin in bed laying around, sweating after just having eaten my pepper soup. As I was laying here, not harming a soul, my left thigh started burning. I realized I made the fools fatal mistake of touching pepper than scratching my thigh. Sometimes I am so fucking daft I don’t know how I stay alive. I went out into the rain and washed my thigh off, but of course that doesn’t really work. So I went back to laying down with a small inferno burning away. After a few short minutes of having napalm burning a whole into my upper leg my eye stared scratching. Instead of thinking like a smart logical person and remember I had pepper on my hands and that’s why leg is on fire. Yea that smart people logic can go fuck itself, I opted for the fuck tards option and scratched my eye. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I forgot all about my stupid fucking leg burning and started shouting o fuck me I am gonna go mother fucking blind I tell ya! I was pouring buckets of water into my eye to get the pain to stop. Sweet lord that was a pain the likes you cannot begin to understand unless you are an idiot and put pepper in your eye. Anywho I went back outside in the rain and just looked up trying to get fire juice outta my eyes and while out there it occurred to me that I had not showered in 5 days, not that there is anything wrong with that, it merely occurred to me. So whilst the sky was acting like a shower pouring down water on the clogged drain of the ground I decided hey, as long as nature is willing to give me a free shower I might as well take it. So in the cover of the wonderfully dark African night I strolled out back in nothing but what the creator done gave me. At first I wanted to do it out front where the roof makes the water pour off in big streams at the corners of our house, but then the Nigerians started running there generator. Its not that I had a problem with them watching me, it’s that they wouldn’t pay the $2 cover charge for the show, and unlike nature I don’t give out things for free. I gotta say standing out in the backyard in Africa in the flesh showering under the nice rain is a highly pleasant experience, you should try it. Just tell your neighbors your doctor said it would be good for your heart. Though you might wanna wait till spring, I don’t think snow would make a great shower substance.
While in the shower it finally occurred to me what I wanted to be when I grow up, and it’s a sandwich shop owner. Mostly I just want to open a sandwich shop because work for the first 6 months of sandwich shop owning = lots of sandwich eating. I mean you have to make up new sandwiches and test the product. Really I don’t want to own the shop though, because that means I would have do taxes and shit on the sandwich shop and that sounds hard. Basically I just want some to pay me to eat sandwiches. I could be a sensual sandwich eater. There has got to be a market for that somewhere. The other problem is right now in Liberia all I have to experiment with is boiled egg, mayonnaise, and spicy mustard. Somehow I don’t think sandwiches centered on previously mentioned ingredients can compete with the Green Turkey from Yellow Sub. Damns that shits sounds good.
The other thing I have decided next summer when I take vacation I will decide where I am going based on where the Dead Weathers or the Mystic Valley band, or Radiohead, are playing cause I really want to see them. Someone should inform that they need to be playing shows next summer. I am missing live music like crazy. Concerts are the sweetest fucking things in the world. They combine the three d’s I love most dancing, drinking, duol cisum. There is just something about being smashed up in a group of beautiful people all tranced by the same dance blaring at you from the nearest 6 foot high speaker. I cant really explain it, but you know it rules.
I also just realized what I will do make money for sandwich shop. I mean to start this I am gonna need some capital, and when I am running it I am gonna need a secondary job to pay the bills on my investment. I need something easy, something that would not take much time but still will pay well, therefore I am left with one option: weatherman. Namely a weatherman for Liberia, I mean they don’t have any yet and really all you have to do to predict there weather is flip a quarter. Heads is really fucking hot, tails is a monsoon. It is so gad damned hot today I am getting sunburned laying in doors. I am just lying on my foam mat pouring sweat down my body. For entertainment I have been making bets on which drop of sweat is gonna get to the bottom of my stomach first. I think this might be the next big sport to watch in America we could call it, well I don’t know yet I am open to suggestions. My only stipulation is that it must have to word ultimate or X-treme in it, preferably both, because that seems to what Americans are into these days. Man last night was a night of decisions.
And yea I know there is no logical thought pattern to how a write this blog, but my mind moves a thousand miles a minute and I like keeping up with it. Helps me stay in shape, so wherever it goes there I must follow, that’s why you get nonsensical paragraphs talking about how hot is, to STD cards, to falling into a fire pit fighting a bear that just terrorized an orphanage. In case I have not explained the bear, that’s how I am going to die. An old gypsy woman told me, and old gypsy woman are the authority on this kind of thing so I am told.
Well I gotta stop writing here, there are two beads of sweat forming on my chest and it looks like they are real competitors, my money is on the Lucky Leftie.