waffles and woodcocks.

is that a righteous plate of wotan's waffles?
with buttery-type spreadable goodness, 
and powdered sugar,
AND a maple-vanilla blueberry and strawberry compote?
heck yes it is, my mutha-lickin' ninjas,
after all, what am i?
an A-hole diaperbaby?
how do we take something so clearly delicious,
and kick it up to eleven?

uh-huh,
weird german faux whipped cream!
fresh from the land that brought you two epic world wars,
comes the so def dopeness that squirts out umlauts of awesome.
breakfast at my house gets it IN.
that's word, not jibba-jabba....


i guess a bow-tie is a real deal freshmaker!
certain folks seem to suggest that i'm a bit overdressed for work most days;
i would argue that i'd rather dress specifically for success,
in it's myriad forms, and fabrics,
whether or not it fits the glass house dress code
and/or glass ceiling limitations of my vocation.
that said,
my secret recipe and farmer's market fresh flavor
seem to show up as super-sour sauce to lobster-neck trailer-trucktards.
it's like losing face for trying harder.
of course,
failing to excel within parameters designed to impede is no failure at all.
i promise not to meet your expectations....
...if they suck balls, that is.
personal style, ya'll.
i dress to impress,
as if every day was an awards-show induction ceremony.
because it IS.
co-sponsored by the secret universal plan and the woodsly goodness,
and thrown as a gala fete in my honor,
just for showing up.
i make every occasion special,
and every day is it's own reward.
battle bards write their own history every single day, right?
the chronicles of a worthy and bold existence,
from daybreak until we break....


what a cute and tiny woodcock!
(that's what she said)
c'mon, ya'll.
jess has the whole story over at her daily newsmakin' station.
but seriously;
woodcock!
hilarious.
one more point on the woodsly goodness scorecard,
plus an extra point for the name.
one more time:
woodcock!
awesome.
never quiet, never soft...