total sausage party

ha.
duders,
me and my buddy wayne had ourselves a sausage fest.
yep.
that's real.
at the studio,
out back behind the building,
and tucked up away from the drizzles that tried to dampen the autumnal glory
of our vegan flavor tubes!
wow.
i mean it.
ostensibly,
everyone at the spot was invited,
provided some active participation accompanied one's presence....
and predictably, with that caveat on the table,
nobody else attended...
therefore,
it was just two manly, bearded menfolk,
standing tall by a steel-encased bed of very hot coals and glowing embers,
holding their sausages, and appreciating the view.
neighbors,
that is SO a thing.
check the teleport:

yuuuuuup.
you like those scallion sprankles, though, am i right?
word.
i think a post-work grillin' party seems like it'd be big fun.
however, while wayne and i were having ourselves a couple of tasty sandwiches
the unspoken angst,
and the outspoken angst, for that matter,
of the very-entitled but ultimately non-contributing crumby grumblers
tried to darken our spirit of all-devouring dopeness,
but,
luckily for our grillin'-A* selves,
right when the sourpusses and the stinkeyes sought to spoil our big action,
we remembered that rules is rules.
and i care a lot about those jauns.
after all,
y'know what the little red hen hen said, don'tcha?
'if any would not work, neither should he eat.'
that's that real talkin' ayn rand-ian boomfire, b!tches.
believe it.
who helped?
nobody.
guess who gets treats, then?
DAS IT.
nobody.
...
the lamest part?
while all the griping and sniping was being spread around,
i didn't even get to hear any of it!
nope.
why not?
two reasons-
1.) it's easiest to talk noise when there's no feedback,
and 2.) i was at the store getting more food so that everybody could have some.
ahahahahah.
womp womp.
sucka-A* mumblers talked themselves right out of the equation-
i mean,
c'mon.
if i'm gonna be labeled a jerk for incorrect assumptions,
i'm not about to provide snacks in the meantime.
all that did was make sure there were more mutha-effin' grilled hottnesses for me.
i doo-doo that immediate script-flip-style sh!t.
secondhand reports of hard styles and harder feelings,
and firsthand accounts of two-handed bun-grabbing grips?
that's my life, guys.
oh,
and for the record,
the pepper game was molto proper, too:

mmmmmmmmm.
rainbow jauns, and sweet onion, and scallion bulbs, and italian hot pepper, too.
c'mon.
everybody needs a spicy poop-shape on long bread once in a while.
i think that's the truth.
***********
costume making.
that's what's up.
i've got big blocks and long pads of eva foam,
and three kinds of razors up in the place, sharper than sharp,
and sharpies for marky-markin' all the patterns, too.
there's a lot of adding and subtracting going on,
and a bunch of engineering, as well.
before long,
i'll have something to show for it besides grey shapes,
bent with superhot air,
and stuck together with industrial-strength adhesive.
i chopped up a pair of inexpensive winter boots,
and started building all the legwear for this year's all-hallow's magic.
i think i'm onto something here,
and i'm glad to have had a day off to indulge in it.
i enjoy making believe,
and i enjoy believing in making.
it's all really happening,
and there's much more to come;
never quiet, never soft.....