wafflers.

a big fat hungry hippopotamus.
mmhmmm.
after a tedious, tiresome, terribly terrible and overly long day,
i think that's what i must most closely resemble.
what?
no.
not because i'm fat and lazy!
jeez.
hold on just a second-
i'm not saying i'm under water, either;
or that my teeth are cracked and yellow;
or even that i sweat out iron-rich red drops from my salt-oily skin.
nope.
no way.
but,
when i'm at job, instead of at WORK,
and my audience/client isn't down to hang out with my patented special brand
of loud, fresh, and hard conversational caterwauling,
and the detrimental d!ckturds who take up space at the studio
are busy turning work away?
yeah,
i'm a big, fat hungry hippo.
trying to gobble up all those peals,
before they become just more balls to suck.
haha.
that's right, neighbors-
when the movie checks aren't rollin' in,
even if it's just one day of doo-doo buttery dereliction of duty?
yup.
i'm immediately 100% crazy-eyed, underbite tusked, vegan, and enraged-
and my hot fire furnace is pumping high-octane feral vitriol
through my juggernautical jugular,
and that jauns is pulsing with that nile-horse nihilism,
that's got all the philosophical jurisprudence of a torpedo.
i get angry at duders who don't want to work;
and i get angry when circumstances create lulls in the action and activation
at the places and spaces i occupy with my mind and body;
i get angry at leave-early cut-out castaways;
and most of all i get angry when i'm hungry
is that so wrong?
i just want MORE of everything,
and i want it to be expert all of the time.
next thing you know,
i'm a berserker barbarian battle-beast, and nobody is having fun anymore.
awwwwwwwww.
however,
y'know what the cure is?
ferocious food-making flavor,
and that in gluttonous quantities.
once you're too full too rage around,
and all that juice is directed towards digestion,
it's a whole lot easier to move along in a more positive direction.
yeah.
....
that's a whole lot of words, huh?
that's true.
it's a meandering preamble to my point-
and that is this-
chili-chee' waffler fries are F*ing awesome!!!
hahahahahaha!
plot twist!
the easiest way to cure a hot fire is to drown it in chee'.
word up.
first of all,
i want you to check the teleport:

boomfire!
i mean, c'mon.
that's the hot FIRE.
but,
hold on for a quick second-
i think i might've still been a little tiny bit too mad still,
and that interfered with my ability to fully appreciate the power of presentation.
of course,
i'm not an A*-hole, and i immediately remedied the situation.
teleport:

am i right?
i deserve a scallion sprankle garnish that takes it to eleven, don't i?
word up!!
i made it, i earned it, and damn it i shall have it!
chili-chee' wafflers, y'all.
that's the ticket.
french-style grates of greatness, in total potato tuber bliss?
so dope.
and that chili?
guys,
i got home and got busy-
lots and lots of mandolin-thing red onion,
and six cloves of garlic, a jalapeno, g.p.o.p.,
roasted cumin, cayenne, crushed red pepper,
thyme, oregano, basil, bay leaf, salt, pepper, smoked paprika,
crushed up tempeh, pink beans, crushed tomatoes, bouillon, and ho' sauce.
cooked for over an hour,
while the oven heated up,
the custom chee' sauce simmered down,
and i made muffins for the morning.
i'll fulfill my quota of unquestionably crucial active participation,
one way or another.
i doo-doo that sort of thing.
hmm?
what?
why the raw kale frame?
you mean,
besides the color-splash hottness it clearly adds?
oh.
you do.
well, it's because raw kale isn't really all that amazing.
and that's the thing about real life.
sometimes,
you've gotta eat some sh!t alongside that blazing hot jauns.
without the bitter, the sweet is just not as sweet...
awwwwwwww, man.
that's not exactly an uplifting thought,
but it's a thing, regardless.
rules is rules, like it or not.
it's a hard style, but it's okay,
because that soymilk and nootch, flour, g.p.o.p., black pepper,
turmeric, and mustard mush is some kind of super-secret chee' sauce bossiness,
and it takes most of the sting out of that quailing kale lawn-leaf lameness.
chili-chee' wafflers, friends,
heavy, hearty, spicy, smooth, lumpy, crispy, and expert.
the cure for what ails you,
if what ails you is vegetarian-monstrous-hippopotamism.
true story.
*
so,
i'm a tantric territorial temper-tantrum terror, at least a little bit-
and i'm also a patient pater and patron to some slow-cooked succor and sustenance.
it's not easy being equally-enormous amounts of the opposing ends
of the refractory, inflective, introspective convective invectives
of the full spectrum of worthy warrior poetry,
but i definitely give it my wholehearted best effort.
there's never an easy way,
and never an easy day,
but today is another 'nother one,
and the ONLY option is to live it as hard as we can.
that's real;
never quiet, never soft.....