Greetings, and Happy New Year.
Hope this post finds you well.
May 2026 bring health, stability, prosperity, and good fortune to you and your loved ones.
When I returned home, my banana plants were heavy with fruit, most of them at once. I’ve been giving much of it away, and using the rest to try things in the kitchen, sharing what came out of it with neighbors far down the road and a few acquaintances .
Included here is a banana curry I made this week, inspired by flavors I came to appreciate during my travels through Asia. I’ve also added one of the cocktails I worked on during my time deep in the jungle, apologies in advance for the handwriting.
I made banana bread again as well; that recipe remains in a previous post.
Wishing you a good season ahead, hope for the best, Maw Hong.
We can't show this anywhere else on the internet but here. Enjoy.
Yes, you're seeing this correctly and @BlabberingC is indeed shoving her nuts in Kay's mouth. She does so much worse in this track though.
...And the video? "Maaaaan! Son, son son! Letmetellyousomething!" IYKYK
I think you'll all like it. Shit gets dark.
"Video coming... blah blah, yackety schmackety..." I only have about 30 seconds completed so far, maybe...
Enjoy it, Normies™!
As promised...
After this, there should be no question as to why Melee K dominated so hard. These girls just didn't know who they were messing with.
Unfortunately, the Futa allegations won't be dying anytime soon.
Enjoy, Normies™! I worked incredibly hard on this one, and I think you'll all like it. This is easily my best work yet.
Also: Normally I don't call people out in here, but @AnDoRaY_OoLtAy, I need you to weigh in, bud!
Holy fucking shit just saw this absolutely brutal post regarding the ICE thing with this image.
Bruh
So why was she so dumb?
Why didn't she back away when she saw the guns?
Simple answer. A short explanation.
Imagine this
You were born in a certain place and time and gender where no matter what you say, like at all, you can be guaranteed that you won't be punched in the face.
If by some miracle you do get punched in the face, complete strangers will intervene on your behalf to your benefit.
Right around the time you turn 16, everybody wants your attention, including cool guys with cars and jobs that you only identify as creepy pedophiles in retrospect.
Your attention is the commodity everyone wants And they ascribe qualities to you that you didn't earn. Men throw money time and desperation at you for so much as a text message.
Then one day you turn (35? 45? Idk. Depends on genetics and lifestyle and wealth I guess) and all the attention and warmth stops. You have no competencies or capabilities ...
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We never meant for today to turn into a full-blown pilgrimage. Originally, we planned a livestream. Buc-ee’s would be the backdrop — oversized snacks, perfectly arranged brisket burritos, and the distinct scent of gasoline and nostalgia in the air. But, somewhere between idea and execution, we said “nah.”
Instead, we lived it.
Before we even stepped through Buc-ee’s automatic doors, we were greeted by a fan — a small but energizing reminder that what we do matters to people. And then, with the kind of anticipation you normally reserve for concerts or Christmas mornings, Blabs declared her one true goal: eat.
Blabs, already vibrating with excitement, stood before the sandwich counter like a worshipper at an altar. Her hands jazzed, clasped, fluttered, pointed. The Big Buckin’ Brisket Sandwich was tempting, but the Carolina Pulled Pork stole her soul. She literally hugged the sign.
“Ohhh, maybe I’ll get both,” she mused. “I’m getting fat-ass today.”
A bold declaration. A Buc-ee’s declaration.
She danced toward the bakery. Oatmeal raisin cookies, massive cinnamon rolls, muffins the size of small dogs — she surveyed them all like a war general planning a sweet invasion. Meanwhile, I was struggling with my own indecision. Chicken and fries? A burrito? Brisket? Cheesesteak? It was a battlefield of carbs and smoked meats.
Eventually, I landed on the pulled pork. Blabs did too. And just like that, we made our way out to the car — two champions, two sandwiches, no napkins.
We forgot drinks. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was thinking I’d get the first bite in before Blabs.
Because by the time I opened my sandwich wrapper, she was halfway done. I've never seen anyone eat a barbecue sandwich with such speed, such joy, such… grace? Is that the word? Probably not. But impressive? Hell yes.
She danced with every bite. She hoovered. She transcended. “It’s so freaking good, bro,” she managed between mouthfuls.
It wasn’t just eating. It was a performance.
When the last bite vanished, she leaned back, fully satisfied, glowing like someone who just achieved true peace. Ten out of ten. Would eat again. Probably twice today.
Meanwhile, I was still on bite one.
But we weren’t done. Oh no. You can’t just leave Buc-ee’s after one round. We went back in, like hobbits returning to Mordor — except instead of a cursed ring, we were chasing pecans and Rice Krispie Treats.
Blabs wandered through the store like she was in a trance. Candies. Drinks. Nuts. Bakery goods. That glazed pecan display practically called to her by name. She considered everything and then some: peppered turkey strips, oatmeal raisin cookies (again), fudge, Rice Krispie Treats the size of VHS tapes. She caved. She grabbed a cart.
Women be shopping. Yes, even at Buc-ee’s.
There was a moment of existential crisis near the fudge. A penny press nearly brought her to tears of joy. She packed pennies. This was not her first Buc-ee’s rodeo.
At one point, we passed a teenage influencer loudly proclaiming to his 12 followers, “THIS is Buc-ee’s.” Blabs side-eyed him while gripping her peppered turkey like a survivalist. She wasn’t here to post. She was here to consume.
At checkout, the final damage: $39.16. Worth every penny.
She debated adding more beaver nuggets but showed rare restraint. As we walked out, the Texas heat hit like a wave, and the sadness set in. The doors whooshed shut behind her — the gates of Valhalla, closing. There was a look in her eyes. The look of someone who’d found love… and had to leave it behind.
In her bag: one brisket burrito, to be savored across the next few nights like a squirrel rationing acorns. In her heart: memories of pulled pork perfection.
And maybe — just maybe — we bring the King of the Couch crew here next time. An army of content creators, united under the Buc-ee’s banner, battling it out, fueled by brisket and joy.
Until then, we live with the memory. And Blabs? She’ll dream of that sandwich.
