fatness in my facehole.

yesterday, today, tonight, tomorrow,
it's all always about what i can shove into my big fat mouth.
huh?
no, not like my foot.
i'm generally unapologetic about THAT sort of thing.
i meant all the foodstuffs i can stuff in there.
y'know what i mean?
i just love to eat food.
i tell myself that it's okay, because it's all vegan,
which means that it's better for me,
and better for everyone else who lives on the planet.
but,
in really real life?
i just want all the treats in my face.
so hard, and so much, and so often.
bite, swallow, repeat.
chewing is a luxury for those who want to enjoy their sustenance.
i don't have leisure time for laising around, nibbling meager morsels.
i'm busy, b!tches,
and i need to put down some serious amounts to power up,
so i can keep making moves throughout the day.
there's never enough,
and it's never about all the healthy planet-conscious
well-being and respect for living things or whatever.
it's about more,
and more,
and MORE.
inside my frail-looking frame,
in spite of the spindly denim-clad deer legstalks
i'm skulking around my kitchen on,
there's a hungry hungry hippopotamus of lust,
coveting and craving, drooling and snarling,
and looking for another bite of what's poppin'.
neighbors,
breakfast?
i love it.
teleport:

because panniecakes are like antlers.
they're the ANSWER.
my new style is so good,
i'm gonna need to start running to work to burn off the big action.
they are very simply too expert not to overindulge in,
so i let myself have what i deserve.
kilotons of buttery, coconutty, fluffed-out heavy-hittin' griddle cakes.
and real maple syrup because i'm a woodsly mutha-F*ing new englander.
mmmmm.
that was this morning
but last night,
i beat up another 'nother blarpity plate of not-meats and greens,
this time with noodood, because i doo-doo that sh!t.
check the what's-left-in-my-fridge-to-become-dinner-type teleport:

mmmmmmmmm.
food, guys.
all of it.
*
today's agenda?
for starters,
there's a couple kinds of treats OBviously.
it's wednesday, after all.
and a big ol' barbarian brick of burly baked ziti.
you know it.
if it doesn't weigh at least 8 pounds before it goes into the oven,
you aren't doing it right.
yep.
you know it's true.
i mean,
we wouldn't want some sorta diaperbabyish b!tchsap-drippin' serving size?
c'mon.
that's not cool.
so,
i started before the sun, and i'll still be shoveling sauce and stuff
long after the dark drops along with the temperature.
i want it all,
so i'm making it all.
realistic goals reach fruition faster.
that's word;
never quiet, never soft.....