getting a little fancier.

duders,
pizza week.
it continues on,
and it increases in volume and volume every night.
that's a thing.
day two,
we turn it up just a little teeny tiny itty bitty baby bit.
check the no-cheese-type teleport:

white balsamic and brown sugar glazed,
soy splashed,
and black peppered quartered brussels sprouts,
on a bed of arugla,
with shallot sprankles,
and a powdery punch of nootch?
yuuuuup.
so expert.
*
tonight,
there will be newer and more elite custom crusts,
and fresher and more labor intensive ingredients.
neighbors,
it may take a moment for me to hit my stride on this,
but i'm telling you now-
too much is the right amount,
and too often is the frequency for it.
pizza attack?
pizza attack!
it's pizza week,
so that's what worthy warrior poets are eating.
the bread is flat,
the sauce is spread,
and the toppings are tipping over.
this is what i'm all about.
concocting occasions to get activated,
making moments matter more,
and requiring presence of mind,
and presentation of ideas,
and active participation,
and shark gluttony.
all of it is what needs to align to make sure
that it all always goes to eleven.
anything less,
and you're just reppin' weak sauce boxmix babysh!t,
and that can't come over to play.
y'know?
yeah,
you sure do know.
and that's what i like about y'all.
***********
it's still below no degrees.
minus minus minus.
subtracting is not the right equation, kids.
and that's way too cold.
i can even feel the waves rolling in past the woodstove,
drafty drifting over my feet and freezing off my toes.
styles get harder in the winter,
and we're seting new records for unseasonably brutal times,
especially in the windchill department.
i hate wind when it's warm out,
but i totally F*ing hate the holy hell out of it when my
spindly spaghetti body gets shredded through my layers.
all the heats are on high,
and all the spirits and memories are on low.
XI-mas is encroaching on my pizza,
and pizza is encircling my waist,
and my waist is shriveling by the second,
a spiraling decline is in effect,
and the effect is spinning like a drain.
awwwwwww, man.
maybe it'll warm up?
sure.
it may, in may;
never quiet, never soft.....