You never know what that pink squishy thing in the middle is

A man has to know how to provide for himself in this world. Self-sufficiency, that’s the name of the game. Except it’s the game of life. And it’s no game.

If you can’t do for yourself, what are you? You’re like a baby. Or someone else’s pet. And not even a useful pet, like a guard dog or a wool-bearing llama, but something purely decorative, like a goldfish or a pug. These are the things you must be able to find or manufacture on your own: Food, water, shelter, and a basic HTML page.

Food is important because without it, you could starve. But cooking is hard. Although some people say “cooking” when they really just mean “assembling a meal.” Like they might say they “cooked dinner” even if dinner was tuna salad sandwiches. These people are stupid and wrong. But it’s OK to keep some of them as friends anyway, if only for the tuna salad sandwiches.

Fortunately, there is a perfectly good method for preparing a perfectly delicious meal while steering perfectly clear of stoves, grills, braziers and other dangerous and mysterious cooking implements with a tendency to become, in the words of Buster Poindexter, hot, hot, hot. And the name of this method is Sushi Chef Five-Piece Sushi Kit.

“But wine.woot product description,” some of you might say, “even if a lot of sushi is made with raw fish, plenty of it is also cooked, and anyway there’s no way to prepare extra fancy short grain rice without cooking it.”

Fools! Of course there is. It just takes a lot longer and is not nearly as tasty. And sure, obviously, you can make sushi out of other stuff besides raw fish. You can use barbecued eel, or avocado and cucumber, or almost anything you want.

I say again: You can. I guess you never heard the expression “once burned, twice learned.” By the simple math of that charming, rhyming idiom, I have learned thirty-two times to stay away from stoves.

Therefore, I’m going to stick with raw fish, freshly harvested by me from area waterways, transported on the bus to my lean-to of reclaimed aluminum where I live in perfect freedom, and deliciously dressed with soy sauce and wasabi.

See, there’s no reason the self-reliant life can’t also be one of refined comforts. Sometimes the finer things and the simple things are, like, the same things. So sure, I may bathe less frequently than your average bourgeois middle-class specimen of button-down mutton. But when it comes to luxury and liberty?

I roll my own.

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