I’m obsessed with sausage right now. I really want a bratwurst on a hearty artisanal roll, the kind with all the whole grains kneaded into the dough, but still soft on the outside. I want that, with a stone ground or heavy horseradish mustard, covered with proper sauerkraut. Adequately rinsed, sauteed gently in a little bacon fat and seasoned with juniper and caraway, garnished with caramelized onions and way too much Swiss cheese.
Look. Life is about pleasure. I'm here for a good time, not a long time. So while I'm trying to figure out this social media bullshit, I'm going to have some fun.
What I do is I re-focus my self-indulgence (I am a Hedonist, after all.) into something else that gives me pleasure which is data collection, monitoring, tracking, and adjusting. Yeah. I know. How fucking dull does that sound? I promise you, it’s duller than that, but it works for me. I guarandamntee (the Southern Sign of Assurance) you, it’s not the weirdest thing that lights my candle, but 53-year-old fat dudes are not successful OnlyFans content creators.
For me, the perfect taco must contain two things at a minimum: handmade corn tortillas and a reasonable amount of risk. The tortilla is not negotiable. The kind of risk is.
