mancakes!

when it's a windy saturday morning,
and it's chilly penguin temperatures outside,
what do hard-style home-cookin' homeboys do for breakfast?

pannie-cake griddle bombs.

delicious.

just when the carbo-loading starch stream has been stemmed,

i go and fire up the heavy-duty hottness.

is that cranberry compote on top?

uh-huh,

it sure is,

it's also thinned out, vanilla/maple syruped up, orange-juiced thanksgiving sauce.

and that's definitely NOT weak sauce, either.

i got up extra early in the still-dark-outs this morning,

and started that barbarian batter;

then i headed out for half an hour and let it rest.

that's the number one big move, my ninjas.

the little nappy-nap between beatin' and blazing.

when your panniecake ingredients have a chance to relax,

you get bigger, fluffier, sexier 'cakes.

trust me on this one,

i'm kind of an expert...

skillet skill-set sh!t, an' that.

***********

i don't have to go to work until 3p.m.

and when i get there,

it's only to rock the bells and whistles on a green man 'zapper.

i can handle them jauns, too.

leaves, eyes, some green.

i'm all over it.

plus, it's only a half day,

and on saturday at that.

that's some light action, just in time;

'specially since i'm set to drive across new england again tomorrow.

that's another 'nother day off,

spent doo-dooin' more than i doo-doo at work.

ridiculous.

tonight,

we're staying up late,

going to the latest nighttime showing of the 'fantastic mr. fox',

roald dahl and wes anderson, ya'll.

wait for it....

and it's stoppity motion activated, too.

herky-jerky ju-ju zombie epileptic image making is what's a-poppin' over here.

we'll be eating treats and drinking slushies 'til we get a bellyache.

big fun is how we say farewell in the woods, kids;

it's either that or we burn ourselves in effigy on stacks of sticks...

it's the last night of daughterly dopeness until XI-mas.

i'm a lucky duckling.

and i'm counting my blessings like magic numbers.

one... two... three.

three thrilling ladies in my life.

ah-ah-ah-ah-ah.

(y'know, like the count....)

so that's the haps.

moving pictures,

making moves;

never quiet, never soft.....