A Dreamer’s Tale

Tell yourself, “This world needs me. I am smart and capable of so much. Nobody but me has my unique ideas. Without me, there’d be a whole universe missing out on what it is that I have to offer.”

And then go make something.

Today’s genius idea: Beefwings

I took some old chicken wing bones out of the trash, rinsed them, mushed seasoned ground beef into them, and once they’re done in the oven — I’m gonna roll them around in Cheeto dust and serve them up to friends.

As great as it is to take risks and experiment, I think it’s equally as great to share. You’ll find that people can be appreciative of your creations. Not always, but slightly more than never they are.

Sometimes the response is, “Have I been poisoned? Am I going to die?”

But sometimes it isn’t.

A little disclosure:

I don’t know for certain that everything is going to be fine; you should induce vomiting if you feel you should. It happens all the time. The panicky, WTF response that is.

I cannot be offended. I am willing to admit to my mistakes and learn from them. I am always looking to go forward, and that requires an honest self assessment.

After what happened last summer with the cake I baked, I discovered that I shouldn’t use collected rain water as an ingrediant. The “natural, earthy” taste that I was aiming for, turned out to be a major misjudgement.

Thank God everyone made a full recovery.

I will continue to learn and improve.

Cooking is my passion.

Claim Your Entitlement

For my birthday, I will bring a large box full of marbles into a crowded elevator, and I will open up the bottom so they all come spilling out. I will then push the button to every floor and leave.

I will spit on passing cars; I will litter; I will dine and dash; I will skip around, ripping parking tickets off of windshields; I will startle a police horse; I will pour detergent all over the floor of a Macy’s; I will kick a parking pay station until it breaks, making all parking in the area free; I will remove manhole covers; I will sled down an escalator on a mannequin…

If it’s your birthday, you have the GOD-GIVEN right to purge. If it’s your birthday, you’re not responsible for anything you do, and you’re entitled to whatever you’d like.

Walk through a garden; disrupt a chess game; pop a balloon; climb a barrier and enter an animal exhibit; get extra sprinkles on your ice cream; set off a couple car alarms; bust a cool trick on a skateboard, etc.

The second the clock strikes midnight though, no more. You’re now responsible for everything. Maybe leave certain parts of town alone for awhile; you might find some trouble if you return there; people might not like seeing your face.

And always remember—other people have birthdays too.

They might seek retaliation against you when their day comes.

If you’re like me, you’ll build a network of enemies, and they’ll all conspire together and direct their birthday purges towards you.

I’m a lot of people’s main target.

Long term consequences are worth considering if you’re on your birthday purge, but I never do. I like to live dangerously.

I also get followed around a lot by unmarked vehicles.

When I think about it, it’s consequences like that that are probably the reason why a lot of people, the vast majority of people, don’t participate in the birthday purge.

Maybe they’ll jaywalk, or they’ll treat themselves to some public intoxication. Maybe they’ll puke off a curb, or screw around with a cab driver while they’re trying to focus on the road…

But rarely does anyone use their entitlement to the extent that some of us do. Me most importantly. That’s exactly who I’m talking about—myself! I’m a legend of the birthday purge.

I have had to move cities and change appearances a few times. I can’t imagine another being birthday purging as hard as me.

I should come up with an alias and make a webpage. I’ll strap myself with GoPros and I’ll make one post a year. The posts will be the wildest and sickest shit ever.

Like groundhog day or something, my birthday one day will be its own holiday. There will be birthdays of mine where the devastation will be historical. And maybe when I’m old enough, hopefully before I die, I will have a documentary made about me, books written about me, movies based on me.

I gotta make it so it happens.

I’ll try. Every year I’m gonna give it my best. Every year I’m gonna try and make my birthday more fucked up than my last one.

Reading my birthday morning paper like–