seventh day rest.

the last day.
number seven.
the final night.
over and out and finished up.
that's all there is, neighbors-
pizza week is done.
it's cool, though.
i'm not sad.
it had a good run,
and i made the most of all those doughy circles.
i was hurried and harried and rushed and pushed,
and saturday night was not feeling very lively.
the icy rains and dark skies thwarted outdoor fire-times,
and so the solstice entered the annals as a silent segue into winter.
awwwwwwww.
what's even worse?
yeah.
totally phoned it in for the finale.
check the dang-that's-kinda-sad-type teleport:

what?!
personal-sized pizzas on english muffs?
no way......
c'mon.
what am i?
a lonely bachelor all by himself on a druidic holiday?
jeeez.
ouch.
i rep a long and benighted post-sunset subscript.
huh?
oh, stop-
it wasn't all THAT bad, kids.
go easy.
and those are salsa,black bean, chee' and jalapeno jauns.
was i getting winterized on some spicy multi-cultural sh!t?
yeah.
i doo-doo that ethnic cross-continental activation stuff.
on a flat nooked-and-crannied multigrain jammer to boot.
i know.
multi-F*ing-grain usually sucks all the balls, too.
punishing myself with just four mini pizzas seemed a little weak.
and eight bites later, when i was all finished?
oh, yes.
i fired up the oven and made myself a real one.

wordimus prime.
a much bettter lookin' and tastin' solstice pizza!
expert is as expert does, y'know?
i guess i refused to become complacent,
even when pressed for time, and energy, and space.
F* that.
active participation means doing stuff right,
all the time,
even when there isn't enough of any of it.
winter is no longer just coming, kids.
it's officially here.
pizza week ended,
and the grayest and the coldest and the darkest day did too.
it's all always really happening,
and we all always get a choice about how we're gonna interact inside it.
i opted for more.
that's the best way to be, i believe;
never quiet, never soft.....