Nick’s Bizarre Adventures



Not all who wonder are lost-J.R.R Tolkien

Delicacies of Yesteryear:

    Of the copious amounts of food I have devoured in my lifetime, the single item I never forget to revisit. Is often times seen as some boorish little dish that only people lacking eloquence take in. I however, would like to discuss that perhaps there is more to this dish than meets the eye. It is not merely for the masses to hoard for themselves, but is indeed a delicacy that can be taken in by even the most aristocratic of people. Why the dish I speak of is none other than the illustrious “buffalo wings” as most people name them. Sure this item may be seen as a common bar item. That is not to say however that this should be condemned to most “bar” items’ fate as a diversion between entertainment. We must give it some chance shall we? The most common preparation of such a dish is to take legs and wings of multiple chickens and deep fry them in a decent amount of batter then, you grab a container and toss them in some homebrew of flavoring. Most often of which is buffalo sauce; a blend of spices that can create a most pleasant taste in one’s mouth. What I have stated is more of a simplification of the process at hand. Unfortunately, I am most inexperienced in the art of cooking and preparation. Still a novice in most things, but I digress. If handled properly “buffalo wings” (as most people call them) can be the penultimate peak of flavor. The combination of peppers and savory spices morphed together in a certain array can create that which no other food could ever replace. In the end though, it ultimately depends entirely upon the place in which you end up. The only advice I could ever possibly give someone is to choose your places wisely.


Hurting Everywhere:

Some time ago when I was but a mere boy in an altogether intimidating world. I found myself in a rather odd situation. Perhaps it is common but still to one such as myself I must say I never would like to endure such a thing ever again. Not for the life of my dear great grandma ma. On a night much like any other my friends (yes, dear reader believe it or not I have friends) invited me to hangout at out at a dear friend’s house. For the sake of anonymity we shall call him “Ron.” You see Ron was quite popular amongst my peers. Almost every evening would be filled with grand festivities of which even the most experienced of party goers would be jealous of. Unfortunately, such events required numerable places of sleep. However, Ron’s home did not provide such a luxury. If one is to attend the most magnificent of all celebrations of life they would have to be prepared for some harsh conditions. Mainly being that you must be prepared to fight for decent sleeping conditions. On one such occasion I myself have drawn the short straw. It was either sleep in an icy hell unlike you have ever seen or sleep in an cruelly sized cell that would give cramps to even the smallest of men. I of course, chose the latter of the two. In hindsight it may have been quite the awful idea. In my time there I experienced the agonizing pain of being compacted into a shape two times smaller than my normal size. Only the slight warmth comforted me throughout the night. The thoughts of my bed always came to mind. If only my sweet was not so far away I would never be in such anguish. When it finally came to be morning I sluggishly removed myself from the cell. In all my pain I unfortunately was not given the sweet embrace of a good night’s rest. To this day I have not known pain like I have since then. With this tale I hope that not one person makes the same mistake I have.



2 thoughts on “Nick’s Bizarre Adventures

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s