On this morning, the 11th of June I was greeted with a squeaky chipmunk in the basement just as I sat down with my first cup of coffee. It filled my heart with joy as the two H-Ks (hunter killers) and a lone chipmunk played a frantic game of animal tag.
A frenzied game of hide and seek if you will. Where if you lose needly claws hooked to hair trigger tendons pulled by honed muscles will rip into your hide and not too often let go. You’ll be lucky and kiss your mother if you narrowly escape with only a minor puncture wound.
Ah yes, the screams of blood filled, animal murder first thing in the morning.
And then as I’m putting the basement things back in order after I’ve caught and released the chipmunk, I hear Pearl in her litter box taking a shit. All the excitement and exercise must’ve got her bowels working.
Hope you like the chili, peeps. The recipe came from an old hermit crab name of Chester Legume. He lived in the foothills of Arizona and was known to bite the tail off a rattlesnake if it so much as looked at him cross-eyed.
New York (CNN) — Anthony Bourdain, the chef and gifted storyteller who took TV viewers around the world to explore culture, cuisine and the human condition for nearly two decades, has died. He was 61.
CNN confirmed Bourdain’s death on Friday and said the cause of death was suicide.
Bourdain was in France working on an upcoming episode of his award-winning CNN series, “Parts Unknown.” His close friend Eric Ripert, the French chef, found Bourdain unresponsive in his hotel room Friday morning.
Holy shit, dude! 😳
I was really surprised when I saw the headline but then after it soaked in for a bit I wasn’t. He was a poetic rockstar, traveling the world, writing his craft, rocking the foodies. Digging up the real story on the people.
Seemed to me after listening to how he spoke on certain topics that he missed that checked-out, junkie lifestyle.