the next few posts will prolly feature the relatively mundane (or exciting! depending on your circumstances) postmodern experiences of survival and/or eating.
(inspired by some middle aged cooking veteran bloke I know who used to put guns in the mouths of drug dealers for funds.) reminded me of this story about why you shouldn’t roll with shady as f characters, rapped by none other than the devil’s son, Big L.
(nsfw, of course.)
take care, everyone!