Phirst post from my galaxy nexus..phucking phantastic. Of course the phone posts won't be as polished as my well thought out computer generated posts. On the plus side they should have a spontaneous feel to them. Actually, I'm not sure if that's a plus or not...Time will tell.
So me and Jake are posted up at Tacoma Boy’s Fruit Stand, just off of highway 16 in Tacoma. We were blazing back from Seattle after meeting up with our Mexican friend Jose’, who had just treated us to a batch of his grandmama’s world famous Mexican fudge. Anywho, I digress…The trusty Explorer, who really doesn’t get enough credit, suffered a blowout, and forced us to pull off the highway. A minor setback in most cases, but as a wanted fugitive from justice, I was a touch on the rattled side.(AHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!). After everyone chilled out a couple of degrees, we went inside to inquire about overnight accommodations. Of course, after emptying a can of fix-a-flat into the flat, which remained that way. As you’ve probably ascertained, the shitty part of the whole mess is the fact that after everything is fixed, I will have 3 tires that are the same, and one tire with more tread, making that corner of the car sit 3/16 of an inch higher than the rest of the son a bitch, which will create a roll-over danger. Hmmm. Perhaps I will grab an air shock system and use it to level everything out. Well, I am running low on batteries, so I will give this some thought, and we will pick up the discussion when I get back to SecBase Devonshire…Thanks for your well wishes….Peace-
Play drums at my Bethel apt? Oh yeah, you and me got railroaded by the man. Well, you got railroaded, I got slightly city bussed or perhaps mildly taxi cabbed. Good news though, your destination is coming up in 63 miles, uh, I mean days. But you probably know that.. eh Fingers? I can’t wait to hear your lazy ass muck up some double bass, after day 11 of our first run back. 27 gauge to the under-shoulder, Paul Stanly style. Your move.
In other news…I GOT MY KRAMER BACK!!!!!!!!!!! 
Praise the Gorge! Power to the Peehole. As you can see in this picture, the Kramer is quite musically inclined. Now, I just need to secure a line six pod xt live…. And it is on mutherfuckers…..Oh… It’s on, IT IS ON.
So here I am, following in Richards footsteps, even though, early on, I thought we were nothing alike. But, alas, I live in the same house he lived in, same hobbies, same worship of “things”. Same job title…Retired…Only I have a masters degree in Crimes. Not only that, I am learning to finish the 10,000 little projects before we move on to others. Got my lawnmower and weed whacker running this week…Grass, your ass is grass.
Gonna play with my video and audio equipment all weekend, then come Monday, it’s back to the grind…Of sleeping in and playing with my toys, and my girl. Or is that, sleeping in my girl and playing with my toys. Either way, IT IS ON.
I listened to Iron Maiden’s Somewhere in Time, in its entirety today. Just to be clear. Irene Maiden rules, Iron Maiden drools, SuperCell schools fools. I’m out. Peace and Titties mutherfucks.
Fucking Rawk Out With My Crock Out! Yes folks, time for another installment of: Cooking with Brandensbaked! Today, we’re going to learn how to prepare one of my all time favorite delicacies… Maple and brown sugar oatmeal! All right, I am so excited to share this wonderful dish. It is such a comfort food, you can really brighten someone's day, ya know, if say they found out they had cancer, or maybe their kitty cat was mauled by a pit bull and had to be put down. Anyway, let’s gather up our equipment and ingredients. First you need a good sturdy ceramic bowl, around three cups. Next, you’ll need a spoon. I like to use one of the ones in my drawer, but you can grab one off the floor if you have to. The next item on our equipment list, a measuring cup. The final piece of cooking gear, you guessed it, the microwave! Now for the ingredients. First off, one or two packets of maple and brown sugar flavored instant oatmeal. I like Quaker but you can use the store brand if your a tight ass mutherfucker, it’s up to you. Next is good old H2O, or as it’s better known, water! I like to see the look of confusion on peoples faces when I use the chemical term, they think I’m some kind of scientist or a teacher or something. Then when I tell them it’s just a fancy word for water, they’re like, whoa. So, moving on. Pour the packet or packets of instant oatmeal into the microwave safe bowl. Next, measure some of the aqua, or water, and pour that in the bowl also. Now here’s a little secret. If you like it runny, add a tich more water, or for thicker oatmeal, a little less water. Put the mixture into the microwave, and set it for 1-2 minutes on high. This time will vary according to the wattage of the microwave. When it’s done, pull it out, and set it on the counter. Next, were gonna add about a quarter cup of 2% milk. You should substitute non-fat if you’re feet are hidden from you’re view when you look down. The final ingredient is golden brown sugar. Sweeten to taste, and, voila! Enjoy yourself, or brighten someone else's day! In other news: I’ve changed the font of the blog to Franklin Gothic Heavy, to symbolize my solidarity with Frankie Fingers who is currently being held prisoner by the state of Idaho. Please, if you know the governor of Idaho, or have any kind of political influence, or if you know something that could be used to blackmail the governor, write us here at the blog so that we may get Frank out of prison, and back here playing drums with me. In sports, Tim Tebow led the Denver Broncos to an overtime victory over the hated Pittsburg Steelers, thus proving everyone wrong. Time after time Tim trashes conventional wisdom, much like the author of this blog. The blog the so called experts would never get past the first year. Well guess what? I’m still here, and some of those experts have died. So ha ha ha ha. Who’s laughing now? Dead people? Nope. Me. Also, the twitter was tweeting that the M’s are not in the hunt for Prince. That sucks. In weather, it’s clear and cold here, please look outside to see the weather where you are. In consumer news, my friend has some bad ass weed for sale. In music, Supercell put up some new songs on their website so check it out. In romance, I am still the world’s most eligible bachelor, so lock up your daughter, lock up your wife, lock up your back door, run for your life. Okay world, that’s all the news you need, this has been brandensbaked reporting…Goodnight.
I slowly realize the wonderful scene that was my life for the last hour, drinking Corona in my shorts with my toes in the sand, as the sun beat down on my lean, muscular body, was only a dream. I am completely motionless. Nothing about me would give any hint of life. To any witnesses unlucky enough to be occupying the same shitty piece of cold, rain soaked time-space, it would appear that the body currently laying in my bed, had quietly passed away in the night…Fighting against the crust, I slowly open my left eye. The lid moves, but there isn’t any vision. I realized the bottom lid remains tight to the top, held together by the goop that must have oozed from my tear duct since I lost consciousness some twenty-odd hours earlier. I wonder how someone with no arms would solve this type of challenge. I have arms, but they feel like they are made of concrete. Still motionless, I concentrate on my next sense. Somewhere a clock faithfully ticks away the seconds. Slowly, as my mind’s focus moves to my hearing, the sounds of traffic bubble up from outside. I remember taking a Thorazine, and chasing it with a fat bowl of the “freeze”. That put me in a coma-like trance. If your wondering what the “freeze” is, it’s only the best marijuana ever grown by anyone anywhere ever, period. Now, some of you out in _____________(insert name of place here), are probably snickering, shaking your head, and telling anyone who’ll listen about the hydro-chronic medical weed, that was created by the U.S. Government and was so potent that the President took one bong-toke, and immediately ordered the entire project shut down, and all the plants, seeds and cuttings destroyed, before it fell into the wrong hands. Miraculously your neighbor’s cousin’s boyfriend managed to sneak five seeds out in his ass, and of the four that germinated, two were female. He sold some of the clones to a professor of botany at the University of Washington, just a few days before the CIA killed him. I’m sure that’s some bad-ass weed…But trust me…This bud is better. I don’t know who the breeder of this strain was. All I know is that I got it from this dude, we’ll call him Toby. He claims to have gotten it from some older, ex-hippy lady, who brought it here from The Netherlands. It’s actually called “Friesland”, or Friese for short, after the Friesland region from which it supposedly originated. Now over the last 15 years, I’ve grown it side by side with many of the famous Cannabis cup winners(Northern Lights, AK-47,G-13,Blueberry,Bubble Gum,Super Skunk, Hindu Kush, Shiva Shanti, Sour Diesel, Haze, White Rhino, Alaskan Thunderfuck, Jack Herer, Mr. Nice, etc), tons of local legends, family heirlooms, bushels of B.C. Bud, Maui Wowie and every obscure strain that anyone believed in, and let me tell ya, it wasn’t even close. Not in any category. Friese buried ‘em. Why then, you ask, haven’t I won any Cannabis Cups? Because, fool, I’m just a humble farmer trying to make ends meet in a country that made it illegal to grow pot. Plus, always smoking bud like this, I’m not exactly Mr. World-beater. Tend to forget exactly what it was I was doing. Usually end up playing guitar, or doing some other leisure activity. But I digress. What I need is a cup of coffee and a bong hit. Get the cerebral fluids circulating. I manage to roll onto the floor, about two feet down. The impact shakes me awake. I find my chonger. Load, light, inhale, shoot the carb. Repeat. I stumble down the hall and into the bathroom. My bladder releases two liters of fluorescent yellow stale piss. It’s been a long time coming. Back in the kitchen, I find a chocolate doughnut with sprinkles. Wash that down with some ice cold milk, straight out of the carton. Fuck you, it’s my milk. It’s January of 2012. According to the ancient Mayan prophecies, the world as we know it will end this year on December 21st. I take another toke. Nothing to be done about it today. I’m gonna sleep for another hour or two. Plenty of time to reverse the doomsday scenario. I’ll start tomorrow…Maybe Monday.
