Farkle! There's Yahtzee All Over Me, & I'm Headed Down South

Farkle.

I don't know WTF it is, but it stands out, doesn't it?

As in "I farkled all over your face".

"I farkled IN your face".

"I farkled my way to the top".

"I farkled your sister at the laundry mat".

"You shut yer goddamn farklehole!"

And I'm looking at this shit thinking "God, this game's gotta be fuckin' great!"

What if someone goes into like, a Farkle fuckin' fit of rage & grabs you during game play, farkles your shirt all up, & starts farkling off at the mouth....

This is one of those things you gotta play in a bullet proof vest apparently.

Then there are probably different variations of Farkle. Like "Street Farkle", "Farkle All-Stars", and "Farkle Your Mom, She Doesn't Call Me Anymore". Parker Brothers is working on a deal, or an LP.

All I know about Farkle is it's a cup with some dice.

I'm Farkle, and I'm farkin' purple, and if you got a farkin' problem with that I'll farkle your farklin'  face off."

Yet it has one of the best f'n names EVER!

And it's said there are a lot of risks inside that box, so Farkle is somewhat like a hooker too.

And then this lil risk-taker came along & had EVERYTHING to do with Farkle, according to Google.

If I didn't know what Farkle was, but saw this as my first result it would be pretty self-explanatory.

Apparently when a gnome takes a crap it's a Farkle. 

You learn something new everyday.

Which makes me wonder what unicorn manure would do to my garden.

So, next time you see yourself face to face with this wonder, ask yourself  "Farkle.......Why?.... Who sent you?"

It's a magic word. Like, every time you say it, you feel like there should be a glittery trail of fuck sparkling behind it.

I have no idea what that means. 

Or why I'm writing any of this.

A. Giant. Fuck. Rainbow!

Farkling in the sun.

(Sometimes I go into gaming mode & last week was one such time, and after standing in the aisles of Target in a daze, this word started to rape my mind. I could feel it violating me from the shelf, and knew what had to be done. Farkle, I shall commemorate you on ye olde blog, then expose you for the rapist that you are.)

...................................................

Anywho.

Now that I've gotten something off my chest that's been on my mind for weeks after a night of staring this phenomenon square in the face & then watching a game of Monopoly get nasty & go down for 6+ hours & nearly involve the mob....

He looks nice, doesn't he? Cute lil mustache midget with a bow tie, can't seem to find his monocle?

Wait till you don't pay him his money & let his hooker's corners go to shit & next thing you know you're riding to a hospital with one arm, squashed between this Grey Poupon eatin' muthafucka & a loan shark named Barry, getting ready to tuck & roll.

let's get onto the south part already...

Flaaaahrida.

Aside from the gators & the weird shit, my other home.

It seems as though I'll either be driving or flying down within the next week.

I'll keep you posted.

Don't Farkle yourself too much while I'm gone.

Another Season Down, Another Year Older, and Fall Is Here

Well, it's official. The apples are ripe, crisps are being made, hoodies are being worn, and I'm another year closer to Keith Richards, which is inspiring.

I seem to think I'm on Iron Chef lately.

Thank YOU, Google image!

This is totally what happens when the coffee runs out in my house.

Disclaimer: I am definitely not cooking babies. Thank the mystery behind the machine.

You ain't just whistlin' dixie, and they ain't just pounding cutlets.

 I spend hours in the kitchen cooking & working on insane baking projects. It makes harvesting from your garden much more fun too. Which is why next year I'll have the whole yard dug up, and cows & chickens, and how fuckin' cool would it be to never run out of milk, and cheese, and eggs, and  psilocybin?!

Anyway, this isn't about running through fields of buttercups & teets & shit.

It's just a passing thought I had today. Fuck, butter for baking gets expensive. How does Paula Dean do it? She must have lil garden gnomes outside the door churning that shit like clockwork.

So, there's something I failed to mention.

As I have mentioned before, I live in the top half of the large multi-family New England home my parents bought when I was born.

Now, not only did I grow up spending my weekends basically living on a boat, but we always had a pool. We also always had a cherry tree that was planted when my sister was born, and a peach tree that was planted when I was born. 

Well, there was devastation when my dad had decided to cut down those trees because supposedly he didn't like how all the leaves fell in the pool. So, a few years after that he also got rid of the pool right along with everything else good about our yard; raspberry bushes too. They send people to hell for destroying these things.

Don't give a drunk man the wrong types of  tools to play with. Or just, probably not any for that matter.

(Though dad wasn't a drunk per say, he liked to drink on the weekends & work on the house/land/cars & fuck everything up, thinking he was doing a job well done.)

Here's where I get to the point.

He put in a new pool with a heater & all 2 years ago. He has since built a deliberate orchard around it.

A. Whole. Fucking. Orchard.

(2 apple, 2 peach, 1 nectarine, 2 pear, 2 plum)

That's 9 trees, buddy

Is he just rubbing his hands waiting for the day they get big enough for him to go chainsaw happy?

They're investing in another home in Florida within the year. Maybe their plan is to stick me with the maintenance back here.

In that case, thanks for the orchard. It's beautiful.

What the hell is wrong with you?

One man's leaf infested pool is another man's.....orchard? 

The same man's in another time?

Either way, no need to go to an apple farm.

Hey there, peaches.

Dig in.

Anyone know how to press & make hard cider?

No pumpkins makes me angry.

Now I have to go finish building a junk yard out of gingerbread.