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Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception

Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception. #southernliving #meatbutter

Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception2019-03-13T05:23:30+00:00

“I want my beardTo be as long asA road,As long as fifteen bussesLined up side by sideTo jump over.How long? As longAs your arm,Ten feet long.I want it to beA truck.I want it toRun over your eyes.I want it so longYou can’t resist.I want it back withJust a few rough places,Veined with grey.I want my beardTo carry your load, hoeA field, towA barge.Let my beard goHome with you.”- Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 1983

“I want my beard To be as long as A road, As long as fifteen busses Lined up side by side To jump over. How long? As long As your arm, Ten feet long. I want it to be A truck. I want it to Run over your eyes. I want it so long You can’t resist. I want it back with Just a few rough places, Veined with grey. I want my beard To carry your load, hoe A field, tow A barge. Let my beard go Home with you.” - Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 1983 #thewordsweuse

“I want my beardTo be as long asA road,As long as fifteen bussesLined up side by sideTo jump over.How long? As longAs your arm,Ten feet long.I want it to beA truck.I want it toRun over your eyes.I want it so longYou can’t resist.I want it back withJust a few rough places,Veined with grey.I want my beardTo carry your load, hoeA field, towA barge.Let my beard goHome with you.”- Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 19832019-03-17T21:00:48+00:00

Strong finish to my first Mardi Gras as a local. Note for next year: buy more sequins

Strong finish to my first Mardi Gras as a local. Note for next year: buy more sequins. #mardigras #staychubby

Strong finish to my first Mardi Gras as a local. Note for next year: buy more sequins2019-03-06T09:10:46+00:00

There’s a spreadsheet on my desktop titled “Ball Jokes Mostly,” created just before starting chemo, two years ago this week. After the initial shock of the diagnosis wore off, I found a lot of comfort in humor—I still do, though I’ve learned it also has its limitations. As some of those memories start to pop back up, this remains one of my favorites: my first trip to the fertility clinic. It was everything that childhood sitcoms had led me to expect: awkward eye contact, a black vinyl couch, a cabinet full of porn…and a bill, because none of it’s covered by insurance. Originally captioned, “Tree of life, potentially.” Still a solid joke, don’t @ me

There’s a spreadsheet on my desktop titled “Ball Jokes Mostly,” created just before starting chemo, two years ago this week. After the initial shock of the diagnosis wore off, I found a lot of comfort in humor—I still do, though I’ve learned it also has its limitations. As some of those memories start to pop back up, this remains one of my favorites: my first trip to the fertility clinic. It was everything that childhood sitcoms had led me to expect: awkward eye contact, a black vinyl couch, a cabinet full of porn…and a bill, because none of it’s covered by insurance. Originally captioned, “Tree of life, potentially.” Still a solid joke, don’t @ me. #titleofyoursextape #cancer #itsokaytolaughinaspermbank

There’s a spreadsheet on my desktop titled “Ball Jokes Mostly,” created just before starting chemo, two years ago this week. After the initial shock of the diagnosis wore off, I found a lot of comfort in humor—I still do, though I’ve learned it also has its limitations. As some of those memories start to pop back up, this remains one of my favorites: my first trip to the fertility clinic. It was everything that childhood sitcoms had led me to expect: awkward eye contact, a black vinyl couch, a cabinet full of porn…and a bill, because none of it’s covered by insurance. Originally captioned, “Tree of life, potentially.” Still a solid joke, don’t @ me2019-02-26T06:27:06+00:00
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