esterday… up at 5:30am.  Gradin’ essays ‘til 7 er so.  Shower, dress, piss chupadogra, an’ conjure up some Soy Longaniza with black beans an’ a coupler corn tortillas.  I miss cheese.  Out the door ter work at 7:45.

Oh yeah, a whole pot er coffee, too.

A coupler apples fer ‘round lunchtime.  Been so long since I done bit inter an apple that my gums is bleedin’.  Them there apple cores is stained red when I toss ‘em inter the trash can.  Bet my dentist would like ter hear ‘bout that.

Last night, fer rehearsal, I done made some dry vegan spaghetti wit meatless meat sauce made outter brownin’ some textured vegetable protein in a skillet, then addin’ a can of Italian style diced tomaters an’ a can of no salt added Ralph’s tomater sauce.  It simmered up right nice.

Even Mister-Anti-Vegan-I-Love-Leather-The-Omen-O’Brien done had ter admit that it wuz right good.

I missed the cheese, though.

Then it were up ‘til 12:30am gradin’ more essays.  Didn’t drink no coffee, though.  Done had some brewed tea which I done poured over ice.  It sez it’s Peach tea, but in my delirious, essay-gradin’, semi-conscious state I done swear it tasted an’ smelled like bannaners.

Today… up at 5:30am.  Nailed the last of them essays.  I still feel cranky ‘bout the fact I done got a kid sittin’ in that room who may very well be the next Heinlein, but I is so jaded I done keep tryin’ ter google it ter catch him plagiarisin’.  Just gonner have ter let it go, though.

Another round of Soy Longaniza an’ black beans with a coupler corn tortillas.  Creature of habit, I guess, although I am thinkin’ ‘bout a bowl of grits tomorrow mornin’… maybe at Denny’s.  Yup.

Shower, dog, eat, whole pot of coffee, out the door.

Battlin’ teenagers all damn day over their grades.  Back ter School night ternight.  35 parents done show up.  That’s almost four times the turnout I used ter get at my last school site.  I ain’t complainin’.

A Tofurky Kielbasa an’ a slice of bread were lunch.

On the way home, thinkin’ ‘bout another ‘round of pasta, I done make a detour an’ make good on my promise ter take up Colinski on his suggestion of Vegetable Delite.

A decade er so ago, my mama an’ sister done brought some stuff home from that there restaurant, an’ as I remember it I weren’t too impressed.  But at this point I is willin’ ter try just ‘bout anythin’ ter ease the mental injuriousness of this here week, so’s I park on Chatsworth, ‘cross from the Blueridge Pickin’ Parlor, an’ go inter the venerated restaurant.

I ain’t never been in that there place, but I guess that nigh on two decades ago it took over the digs of some other Asian themed restaurant an’ has been turnin’ out it’s unique style of Buddhist vegetarian concoctions ever since.  It looks like the kinder cool little Chinese restaurant you’d expect ter get shot full of holes in a John Woo movie.

But, whatever my recollections of the past were, their food is damn good.  I tell that there waitress I want the Dinner B an’ she makes it happen.  Hot an Sour soup, slices of somethin’ ‘sposed ter be bbq pork, would-be chicken wantons, cold pickled cucumber, steamed rice, an’ orange chicken (that must be battered mushrooms, deep fried ter crunchy perfection), all made of nuthin’ but some scratched tergether veggie makin’s.  I gotter admit that it wuz damnable good.

At Colinski’s admonishment I didn’t have them bring out the ice cream an’ fortune cookie.  I just done paid an’ left.

Came home.  Walked chupadogra.  Ready ter go ter bed.

There’s light at the end of the tunnel.  Vegan straightedge day five will dawn soon.  At least things’ll return a lil bit ter normal termorrow.  Maybe karaoke with Tony James at the Tattle Tale.  He kin buy the first round of soda waters.  Haw haw!

Considerin’ the ripe shitstorm done been blowin’ all week, I figger I prolly picked the wrong time ter give up all my vices, but I guess it’s workin’ out alright.

Tonight I’m a dream about someone bringin’ me a shot of 110 Wild Turkey on Sunday afternoon when’s I sing:

“Now you knows all about my sad story, won’t you buy me a ‘nother shot of booze?”

In order ter not be insultin’ I’ll hafter shoot that down… never lettin’ up on the sustained D minor if’n I can pull it off.

I might consider movin’ forward with the vegan bit a lil longer, though.  It ain’t been too bad.  Thank the Good Lord in Heaven that alcohol is vegan.

Haw haw!

-Squeezebox Sam