Chickpeas, ceviche and fruit salad

I don't do this anymore.

These are old.

Yes, they're mine, but that was a previous self.

There is a continuity from old self to present self. You'd expect a straight line. Because I'm in the same place. I haven't moved.  But no. The continuity goes like this:

And that's why I don't do these things anymore. They're too many dots away.

Somebody found them on Flickr and marked them as favorite.

But yuk.

Any other bean would be better than chickpea. I mean it. Olive oil and lemon juice. Beans given this treatment are gorgeous. But not chickpeas. Chickpeas are gross. They just are. 

If you make hummus, then try some other bean. Any other bean. You'll be surprised.

Tell, 'em, Mr. Trump.

Chickpeas are for losers. 

My little horse just sits on a bookcase shelf. No longer part of anything else. And my ceviche today would be those other things that I like right now.

An elaborate fruit salad would most likely have blu cheese dropped throughout. For surprise. Even though it's not possible to surprise myself since I put it in there. It's still a bit of a surprise how well it goes with everything. That's how I'd fake myself out.