look at my food.

neighbors,
i overdid it.
dinner for eleven,
taken to eleven,
in quality and quantity,
but eaten by just four people.
too much is the only amount.
that's real.
don't believe me?
okay.
but,
before you judge too quickly,
check the vegan-means-i'm-smug-and-satisfied-type teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
SO many expert mutha-ucking treats on one plate!
hmmmm.
i made a lot of everything,
despite actually scaling back the massive portions of yesteryear.
ugh.
fatness for my loud, fresh, face,
and volume for all the loud, hard heroic buttholes in the postscript.
huh?
oh,
i'm just talking about those tofurky farts.
duh.
we definitely brought the thunder,
once all the greasy lightning had been gobbled an' that.
hahaha.
oh, c'mon.
*
anyway,
garlic mashed potatoes?
yuuuuuup.
we need those secret recipe skin-on smoothies for our faceholes!
*
garlic-and-broth-blanched baby kale?
indeed.
it's baby-sized, and that's so darn cute.
it tastes grown-up,
but we appreciate style-points awarded for presentation.
fact.
*
soy-glazed fried brussels sprouts?
you know it.
harvest insisted on those,
and made them mostly herself.
expert.
*
homemade medium chestnut-colored golden roux
and nootch-blasted smooth brown gravy?
of course.
if you can't slather a sloppy sauce on top of all
your beige-on-beige business,
you're probably F*ing up.
no jokes.
*
a globe of blarpity beige fake-turkey-type extruded soy-and-seitan?
tofurky is just the weirdest,
but, i mean...
...yeah,
obviously, we had to have it.
these kids love traditions as much as i do.
really real ones know about samesies.
we like the same stuffs.
and that's all good stuff.
*
oh,
now wait just a minute...
is that maple-sweetened cornbread with all-new third-generation
activated futuristic hottness,
in the form of sausage-seasoned tempeh dressing/stuffing?
you'd best believe i wasn't gonna miss out on MY favorite sh!t.
i don't take shorts, y'all.
what am i?
ungrateful?
or worse,
an A*-hole?
no way.
*
but what about homemade cranberry sauce?!!!!
the good kind.
hmmm?
no.
i said the good kind!
don't be gross!
it's not the weird orange-peel and clove crap.
instead,
i get it poppin'.
i make the maple and brown sugar, apple-cider simmered,
vanilla-splashed pure crimson bog-harvested magic
that makes everything taste like the holidays peed out red gold sorcery
as a perfect accentuated exclamation.
word!
delicious.
***********
me and mine had a fine feast.
and two desserts.
folded filo dough apple-pie triangles,
and graham-crackery apple-tart with whipped-creamishness.
uh-huh.
too much, kids.
it's how we show our appreciation for having enough.
because enough is never really enough.
yeah.
food is good.
good food is better.
great food and even better people makes it all the best.
thanks have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....