My cats reaction when I come home from work
When I was five and my mom made me leave my friend’s house
It was about forty yards to the gallows. I watched the bare brown back of the prisoner marching in front of me. He walked clumsily with his bound arms, but quite steadily, with that bobbing gait of the Indian who never straightens his knees. At each step his muscles slid neatly into place, the lock of hair on his scalp danced up and down, his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel. And once, in spite of the men who gripped him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path.
It is curious, but till that moment I had never realized what it means to destroy a healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle, I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying, he was alive just as we were alive. All the organs of his body were working - bowels digesting food, skin renewing itself, nails growing, tissues forming - all toiling away in solemn foolery. His nails would still be growing when he stood on the drop, when he was falling through the air with a tenth of a second to live. His eyes saw the yellow gravel and the grey walls, and his brain still remembered, foresaw, reasoned - reasoned even about puddles. He and we were a party of men walking together, seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding the same world; and in two minutes, with a sudden snap, one of us would be gone - one mind less, one world less.
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If you don’t have a good bakery in your area – i.e. bakes fresh every day, can tell you details about ingredients and procedures, acts like they give half a shiet – make your own. It’s pretty easy, and you can freeze leftover batches for later use. Just take a brioche recipe (my favorite bread), shape it into balls and proof as desired. I like mine *just* pillowy, with a bit of structure still but not too dense – the recipe I use is a high yeast dough (almost half percent total yield) and I proof my 84g buns for about an hour. I like a double egg wash and sesame, but do whatchya like ya biatch.
Listen, you can make your dry-aged short rib or wagyu burgers, but it probably will have a hard time competing with Five Guys (seriously, fuk those guys, I’ve lost sleep thinking about how good their bacon burger is). The number one cause of shietty-ass shietburgers? You bought grocery store ground beef; you will get nowhere with that. Grind the best quality chuck roast you can find, and you’re set. Actually, you don’t even need a grinder (even though they’re cheap); you can chop/mince cold beef and get arguably better texture. It just takes longer. I like a mix of about 60 percent chuck and 40 percent brisket. I have a guy who only works with prime, so thats what I’m using. Just leave my expensive sirloin alone. Ya biatch.