haha.
the last meal of the lamest year was actually pretty dang good.
check the final face-stuffing teleport:
macaroni is like italian magician nutrients from the future.
that's real.
and when you add in some veggie crumble-blops and spinach and leeks
to an already g.p.o.p'pin' powerful red sauce,
the whole thing goes up another 'nother level of dopeness.
paprikafied applewood-smoked salted baked carrots aren't too shabby either.
believe it.
add in a whole pan of sauteed mushrooms, and a bucket of broccolini,
and before you realize what's up,
you're a pentosan-reactivated slice or two of baguette away from turbo-hottness.
uh-oh!
we shark-gluttonized our faces off with new year's eve expertism, y'all.
there's no good reason not to enjoy the finer things with family,
and extended outer-circle individuals when the bygones are going bye-bye.
we doo-doo that sh!t, duders.
real talk.
*
and what goes great with transitions from bittersweet to salty?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup:
with an onslaught of mutha-b!tchin' sprankles.
word up.
i'm being assailed by anorexic angst,
but the infinite nurturing nature of vegan overindulgence is taking a shot at the title.
uh-oh.
what-what, say what? say what?
anything could happen.
***********
and if you think that just because i remembered to say rabbit rabbit last night,
that i didn't repeat that rant first thing in the wee hours of dark-o'clock a.m.,
then you're probably an A*-hole.
of course i did.
i learn from my mistakes, missteps, and misspoken spells.
that said,
i turned my considerable attentions to the matter of the first breakfast.
also known as the last breakfast of XI-mas vacation.
awwwwwwwwwwww, man.
we had to start it/send it off right, right?
right.
so we did what we always do,
and we got what we always get.
you know it, you love it, you eat it all up-
check the lumberjacking hearty homestyle teleport:
panniecakes.
whole oat flour chocolate chip panniecakes to be precise,
because i doo-doo THAT fancy gourmet breakfast jauns, too.
huh?
yeah,
that IS steaming hot maple-strawberry magic sauce slathered succulently on top.
c'mon.
11 for 13 is what's up.
thirsty?
slake yo'self fool-
cranberry sparkle-cider orange juice mimosa explosions were in order,
and we chug-a-lugged our sober selves towards a new day in a new year.
oh yeah,
that's a hot fire spitting lead dispenser on the table, as well...
Folk Life fusiliers don't sleep on that sh!t, son.
why you hatin'?
***********
my girls are gone,
the wind chill is subzeroed,
and the fire is stoked,
and i think i am too, surprisingly.
it's a new day.
or night.
and it's gonna be a good one;
never quiet, never soft.....
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