treats!

sunshine?
warm weather?
working in the yard?
ab-so-lutely.
and you know what that means?
correct!

panniecakes.
that's hearty-type hard-style breakfast food.
dense bombers of wheaty slab-stacked sustenance,
with a healthy slathering of double-buttery goodness,
and grade B syrup.
grade B is what's up.
and if you don't know about it,
you'd prob'ly better find out about it.
darker,
thicker,
more intensely concentrated mapley flavor.
put it in your cakehole, b!tches.
real talk.
and after stuffin' a jack-stack of pannie-man foodstuffs?
we stacked logs,
we moved earth,
we branched out into branch breaking,
sap slapping,
and leaf raking.
spring mutha-uckin' cleaning got underway today.
we must've been doin' somethin' right,
because all our neighbors were all sweetness and cherry-pie;
waves and smiles and rolled-down-window conversations.
friendliness aimed directly at the whole gang.
it may have been because of the kids.
family togetherness makes folks feel better, i guess.
that's that respectable-type jauns, y'all.
***********
remember when i told you duders about the doughnuts?
with the strawberries and the whipped creaminess?
c'mon.
it was yesterday...
yeah.
well,
here's a shot of that sweet hottness:

teleported!
so yum4tum,
for my face.
i could use a sugary power-up right about now.
my spaghetti-spindle arms are all rubbery from raking,
and i inhaled enough dusty, busted disgustitude to keep me
hacking for days.
yard work is hard work,
and hard work is it's own reward, yeah?
word up.
plus,
it doesn't look nearly as dirt-encrusted and weak
around the grounds now, either.
rack'em, stack'em, marky-mark'em,
and know that we doo-doo that homeownery sh!t.
hard.
kids collectin' rocks,
wifey gettin' down on some driveway maintenance,
and me and the cucchie killin' it on the
gravel-choked, timber-debris-strewn, haggard hunks
of outside mess-ups and particulate matter.
responsible.
ninjas,
you know this.
*
the werewolf better be tired.
inside me, i mean.
because duders,
on the ones,
i need some sleep.
tossin', turning, sweatin', shedding,
i am just caught in thrall of the big blue beams
blasting through my windows
and illuminating the life behind my see-balls.
you don't eye with 'em, like dan says....
i hope my day's worth of effort has rendered the pull
of the orbiting orbital-lobe occluder inert.
it's barely 5 p.m., neighbors,
and i'm already ready already;
never quiet, never soft.....