again?? yeah!!

yup.
neighbors,
you know what i'm all about:
too much is the right amount.
and once again, and again and again,
it's falafel time here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i mean,
really,
how else would i celebrate easter?
don't be dumb.
it's GOT to be falafel, at least until my well-seasoned and fully-cured
chunky chick-pea porridge is all used up.
if i've GOT they, i've got to get busy with it.
otherwise,
i might actually be some sort of an A*-hole,
and that's not a very cool way to be.
so,
with the help of my very lovely assistant,
it was time to dominate yet another 'nother fresh batch of turbo-hottness.
check the flatbread-type teleport:

KAboooooooom!
and it kept going, of course,
because there's never ever quite enough of a great thing is there?

i'm just sayin'-
i sure do LOVE a tasty falafel, y'know?
yeah.
you and i, we're on the same level, i'm sure.

molto molto delicioso!!!
....and somebody (not me, obvi)
only wanted a little bitty baby one,
so there was this little flippy falaffie cutie, too:

awwwwwwwwwww.
but, seriously, duders,
the new bread jauns are in effect, though.
baking soda-style low-rise no-yeast flatbreads?
expert.
with fresh-cracked black pepper to freak it off some?
c'mon.
that's what's up.
and you'll see that i only had little whole pickles (that's what she said)
but i sliced the sh!t out of 'em, and made it work.
my salad activation game is going to eleven, as well.
perfect practice makes perfection practical,
and that's the way i insist it goes when the clock strikes falafel hour.
parsley, cilantro, scallions, and minced-up red onion,
with lemon juiciness squirted in for even MORE new hottness!!!
yep.
i'm working my plan, and it's becoming a system,
which will in turn evolve into a decree,
and then we'll really be getting somewhere.
rules is rules, kids,
and that's no joke.
***********
panniecakes and burnt toast,
in reverse order,
is how today started off.
uh-huh.
not the most auspicious omens,
but certainly a very happy ending, all told.
i love pancakes,
and i hate burnt toast.
there's a balance being struck,
between the bitter and the sweet,
and i'm standing at the fulcrum,
weighted with falafel balls,
and teetering like a tottering toddler to and fro.
eventually, the scales will tip,
and i'm sure there'll be a downhill in whichever direction i'm facing.
how's that for not making a big deal?
ha.
this is it, kids.
perched on a precipice,
paused,
and poised to pounce;
never quiet, never soft.....