Purple Muthaf*ckin Potatoes

It finally happened

Greetings from vacation. To begin, I need to republish a Facebook post about purple muthafuckin’ potatoes that was made two years ago so you have the proper context. You can also read the linked Jet Dry post if you are so inclined, but it’s not necessary. Behold:

A little while ago I did a lengthy post about that Jet Dry dishwasher shit and I'll be booted in the head with frozen mukluk but you motherfuckers actually read that shit. 

Now I'm on about potatoes. To be specific, those little purple assholes. 

There is a company. This company is in the potato business. I'm not going to name this company. But, if in reading this you come to realize that this is the company you work for or perhaps even own, then permit me to say a hearty fuck you. 

This company specializes in little potatoes. 

They have a few different offerings, one of which is a bag that has a medley of colors. One of those colors is purple. 

Used to be, the purple ones were purple all the way through. I liked that. 

Permit me to repeat, because this is where this post is coming from. This is what it's all about. 

The purple ones were purple all the way through. I liked that. If Facebook permitted me the ability to italicize the previous two sentences for emphasis, I would have. 

Then they stopped being purple all the way through, and the fuckers thought we wouldn't notice. 

Assholes. 

Anyway, now I want to say some shit adjacent to that little potato business. Yes, I've been drinking. 

I make this lamb stew. Ask my page moderator Carrie about my lamb stew. I know the word "epic" gets thrown something something, but this lamb stew is epic. 

It's a winter thing. Because my recipe (don't worry, I'm gonna link that shit), involves having the oven on for two or so hours, and I'm in a mountainous part of Canada and no one has AC here so we try not to turn our ovens on in the summer because our houses are built to keep heat in for the nine months of the year where most normal humans would look out the window and say "Fuck that" regarding going outside. 

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, purple potatoes and AC and shit. 

Tomorrow, we're going to BC, to stay in a place where there is AC. BC stands for British Columbia, part of Canada, in case you were not aware. I already made the assumption you know what AC stands for.

Anyway, heading to a place with AC tomorrow. Small town in BC with AC. Small town that has a farmer's market. Farmer's market a couple of years ago had a potato lady. Potato lady sold bags of nothing but purple potatoes, and those bad girls were purple all the way through. 

Couple years ago, I made purple mashed potatoes in this small town out of those purple-all-the-way-through motherfuckers and gravy too and we ate that shit and it was a religious experience. 

I have a leg of lamb in my freezer. I'm gonna take it on our journey tomorrow in the cooler for the drive to BC to the place with AC and I'm gonna go to the farmer's market in the small town there and hopefully the potato lady will be there and hopefully she will still sell bags of nothing but purple potatoes that are purple all the way through and I will buy like three of those bags and then crank the AC to keep the condo cool because fuck the planet it's too late anyway and make this motherfucking lamb stew with purple all the way through potatoes and then eat three bowls of it in rapid succession then probably just die because mortal man was not meant to survive such an experience. 

Alas, it was not to be. Five days later I made this post  showing the very not purple potatoes I bought at the farmer’s market. They were still good, but they were not purple, and I was sad.

This year I decided once again that because we were going to the place in BC with the AC that I would bring a leg of lamb sitting in the freezer and make motherfucking lamb stew. Oh, here is the recipe, by the way. I didn’t go to the farmer’s market, but my daughter and her boyfriend did, and they came through. A big bag of purple muthafuckin’ potatoes that were indeed purple all the way through. Check this shit out. 

Apparently they’re called Russian Blue. That is not blue. That shit is purple. Oh, and my daughter also got me a bag of multicolored carrots for the stew as well. And I made that stew with the muthafuckin’ purple potatoes and the funky multicolored carrots and it was just as glorious as I imagined and now I have lamb stew farts.