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Growing up in LA in the eighties was awesome.  Back in those days you couldn’t just get into a club, you had to be picked.  If you were a hot chick you may get in, if you were a guy, well good fucking luck, unless you were me.  Sporting a bronzed tan that only a dirtbag surfer could have and rolling my suede creepers, way too tight 501 button flys with a white v neck tee, a black velvet smokers jacket and dreadlocks down to my ass crack all I had to do was show up and I was in.

One love

Back in those days I smoked Dunhills, reefer and what ever else the club would find my way.  The eighties were an explosion of insanely good music and while I rocked to Van Halen and Jusdist Priest as much as Madness, The Specials and Jimmy Cliff my heart has always belonged to Jah.  I’ve been living with reggae since before I was old enough to know I had a scratch to itch between my legs.

I was young and thought I owned the world and in many ways I did and still do.  I got this wild hair up my ass to make a quick fortune and move to the Caribbean.  I’ve sailed through but never actually lived there.  I came up with this crazy idea that if I could invent a popcorn that would be 100% addictive from the first bite and make people crave more beer i could strike it rich selling it to bars. It was all quite a simple recipe, spicy popped corn makes you thirsty. By this point in my life I’ve made thousands of batches and while back then my entrepreneuring ways eventually lost out to voyaging under sail I’ve never given up the dream of a perfectly poped batch of kettle corn, or moving to the Caribbean.

like just about everything in my life I’ve failed miserably at my golden kernels but I try and try.  I find failure be soothing because while nothing went as you expected you had a great go of it, learned a bunch of shit and can jump back into the kettle whenever you choose and start the whole journey again a day older and wiser. Some people think Im a Mother fucking genius and while I may be it’s for no other reason than I’ve failed at thousands of things in my life, many times over.  You can’t fail that often and not learn at least something in the process and that’s what life is, it’s a process.

Well, tonight it happened,  its cold as hell in Sookie , I’m hungry and tired but not too tired to break out my spicy corn.  One part coconut oil two parts extra virgin olive oil and my secret sauce.  Not only did I make the best damn batch of corn I’ve ever made but I poped 100%  of the kernels, something I’ve never done in all my life.  Blessed are those who blindly stumble and stammer through life with a tunnel vision so great you could cross under the mighty pacific without getting a single drop of water on you.

My hair is almost long enough to re dread “insuring that no self respecting company will hire me”, although it has a mind of its own and has already started the process without me. Remaining gainfully unemployed has been the second biggest failure in my life but I know if I keep at it some day I will succeed and fail to ever work again. No job, No woman no cry…

Old pirates yes they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I from the
Bottom less pit
But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the almighty
We forward in this generation triumphantly
All I ever had is songs of freedom