Fried!

That would be me.  Somewhat, as they say, or of course.  Although who is complaining?  That would not be me.

OK, the skinny is 7/14 rocked out folks: A&B, Major Drug Trafficking, Dead Boy on the Street, Boy in the Hospital off of Oxy about 72 hours.

“Nice,” to quote Santos.  “Very nice.”

The goods news is a quick foray into the new Whole Foods in J.P.–subject of one protest after another by Hi-Lo customers and tempeh toting pranksters, but what with the salsa playing inside the store, the Latina at the register, and the two big, greasy chunks of pork skin at the hot food island, and what?  Alimentos Enteros, right?  Wrong.  Talk about fried, my brothers and sisters.

Meanwhile, at the encampment down the hill I can smell the burning wood and see the spirals of smoke from fires.  They are getting closer.  And are only defenses are the high stone walls and a few catapults manned by a few bronze clad draftees who’ve had as much mead as bees drenched in honey.

This does not bode well.

 

 

Fried pork Stock Photo - 9152799
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