Don't. In a word don't. Been down a liddl' bit lately. "Are you depressed?" No I am not depressed... I am sad as fuck about pressure cooker bombs and racism and melting polar ice caps and 5 year olds shooting their 2 year old sister with MY FIRST ASSAULT WEAPON and the general devolution of our species into a bunch selfish moronic apes (sorry primates... I am using this solely as an illustration) who are just out to lick the damn bowl clean as fast as possible. Anyway the former post... the recipe for green beans and preserved lemons was me typing like a damn mommy blogger. I am not a mommy blogger. I am not even a mommy. I am a daddy... and I am not a daddy blogger. God bless mommy bloggers (and I guess daddy bloggers if their sorry asses actually exist) and their helpful hints about Handy Wipes and 1000 things to do with a used Diaper Genie poop log. Look the bean recipe is excellent... toothsome even. But jesus just put some damn beans in a pan and toss in some of the lemon stuff y'all made and you're done. Serve it with Diet Pepsi if it makes you happy. Use your hazelnut and lavender smoked finishing salt... I do not care. It's yo' mouth.
I will be back to my usual horrific self pretty damn soon. In I think I am. Fuck you Martha Stewart.