In a time far behind us, I found myself with a choice. I could let my addiction and trauma crush me, or I could make an attempt to rip happiness from the world’s hands and mock those who doubted me. I had this thought while making the worst version of Chicken Parm you have ever seen, for a person who didn’t like me very much. I vividly remember being so proud of myself and the monstrosity I had slapped into a beat-up to-go container I manifested. I was a 24 year old substance abuser (shout out to my boy whiskey) in the middle of the worst year of my pitiful mortal existence just trying to make a lot of shit that wasn’t going to work, work. I didn’t realize it at the time, but cooking would give me the opportunity to grow. I loved it, and for the first time, I didn’t mind failing. You work, and you get better. I would go on to kick addiction, stop dating people who can’t clean their room, and find love and peace in myself I thought impossible.
If this blog or site or mad man’s journal has any point it’s to offer whoever stumbles upon it the same opportunity. The DuumsDay Kitchen will be here with a good recipe and a reminder that you’re ok even when you don’t think so. I hope you can find half the comfort in my recipes that I do in sharing them.
Stay Evil







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