The first is the value and precious nature of freedom. The ability to do and say what you feel and to have it all meticulously transcribed by the government for use at a later date.
The second is one of the most important thing I suppose a human can know - something that makes life worth living.
Something magical.
Something special.
Mom? Yeah. I got the job. I know! Yeah I will probably commit suicide in two weeks. Free shirt, though.
This something is one of the keys to existence. It is the the science of happiness. The rule of joy. The top item on the shopping list of satisfaction....deep frying the shit out of stuff.
Oh hey, you like that oreo? SKABAM NOW IT IS BETTER.
Butter? I guess I can do something with thSKABAM NOW IT IS BETTER.
DEEP FRY MY COFFIN AS WELL PLEASE. BECAUSE SKABAM THAT MAKES IT BETTER.
I am not saying that deep fried things are better than freedom, I am simply saying the freedom to deep fry things is better than everything else ever.
Look around you. Go on - look. See that thing that just caught your eye? Heat oil to 375F and bread that bastard and throw it in there for a few minutes until golden brown. I don't care what the object is, it is better with a hearty coating of bread crumbs and oil. That is nature.
That is fact.
**disclaimer** if what you saw was your kid or another human, don't deep fry that. It isn't as tasty as you'd think and it isn't worth the paperwork.
I know we are opening up McDonald's all over the world, here in Bahrain they deliver, (1722-1722...the first number I memorized here. No, YOU'RE a fat kid.) but if we are to truly spread the wings of freedom over this land we need to have less stores that serve boring things like McFalafel, and more stores that serve this:
Which food group is represented here? The delicious one.
So here I am in Bahrain, The small island nation in the Arabian Gulf where there is some unrest and protest. Overall it is a very happy place, but there is some turmoil that manifests in scheduled protests and small tire fires.
Seems like the perfect place to test my theory. I will start small and slowly expand. Do not want to spread peace too quickly, so I have to make sure my theory is sound. In order to begin Operation DTF, (Down To Fry, you perv) I decided I would try it on my coworkers first.
Now, what to use as bait, I wondered. It was a Tuesday, so the first thing in my head was: "TACOS!"
To be fair that is usually in the top 5 of things that pop into my head anyway, but this made more sense than it usually did. It was settled.
Taco Tuesday.
My place.
On Wednesday.
Shit.
Oh well, close enough.
I didn't let on the tacos I would be serving would be open-mouth kissed by the glory of hot oil. As far as they knew it was just some flour and meat-gredients wrapped up and slapped on a plate. I was so DTF I couldn't wait to get everyone over to show them just how DTF I really was. You start with a little prep work...
The trick is not to have sex with them. Yet...
Some chicken and some beef. This would satisfy most palettes. If it didn't, surely the next ingredient would. The one Great Unifier. The greatest hero in all kitchendom. The One Ingredient to rule them all...
My Preciousssssssss.....
HOT OIL YA'LL!
Taco Tuwednesday was a hit! Little did people know I was running scientific research on them - the tacos tickled the tastes too terrifically! All alliteration aside, everything went really well. I had brought peace to a kitchen in Riffa, Bahrain. Where would I attempt to bring my peace next? Who else would appreciate how DTF I am?
I am currently planning phase "Tue" of Operation DTF. It may actually just be more Tacos next month or something. I tend to have a poor follow-through with a lot of things. That will give the stores time to replace their Asian Food Selection - which is where you find a majority of the Mexican food ingredients.
Shhhh..just....just let it go...
And here I am on the morning after.
Everyone went home full and happy.
I was happy that they were happy, and I strolled downstairs after regaining consciousness this morning, (thanks, tequila!) to start my day with a nice bowl of children's sugar cereal, try to think of something to write about. Tacos? Sure - I can fill up half a page with that. But nothing really funny had happened to me - "what on Earth would I write about?" I thought to myself whlie STEPPING ON A DAMN TOY AIRPLANE.
No, Mr. E. I expect you to DIE!
First of all, it is an awesome airplane. I know that. This is a lucky kid to have the joys of powered flight at his fingertips.
Hell, when I was his age we used to grab on to the nearest pterodactyl and fly uphill both ways to holy shit I just became my dad...
Anyway....yep. Look at that devious little fucker. Positioned perfectly to inflict damage...almost too well for a child. Was it his parents? This was not an attempt to kill me, it would have been on the stairs.
This was a warning.
This was a power play.
Perhaps my bid for peace had interrupted someone's plan for unrest? Was there to be no peace here? Could my total DTF-ness not save the world?
I think I have some friends who are DTF and have something to say about that...
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