i think about it when i'm not eating it,
i obsess over it when i'm making it,
i gluttonize my gullet when i'm eating it.
it's a very all-consuming thing.
groan at the unintentional pun all you want,
but i love food,
and whenever there's some radical vegan hottness available,
you'd best believe i'm gonna spoon it all up into my mouth-hole as hard and fast
as my karate-ka-chopstixxx will allow.
that's real.
by the way, i really like dinner.
a lot.
mostly because it's always the biggest meal of the day for me.
more is better, and too much is the right amount,
and seconds and thirds are my favorite fractious divisions of dinnertime helping.
get it?
good.
last evening, ampy d made me some delicioso noodoos,
that's right.
spicy noodoo jauns, for my belly,
with garnishes and everything.
like, limes and cukes, and pea tendrils,
alongside all the peppers and tofu,
and sesame seed sprankles, and everything.
check the teleport:
expert.
so many vegetables,
and those thick udons, too.
spicy nood's are on the topmost tier of mealtime enjoyment.
no joke.
and when i'm snapping those sticks together at warp-speed,
shoveling in all that stuff?
my myopic focus on every flavor is being processed at an impressively fast rate.
i gotta make the most of what i'm eating the most of,
before it's all gone in a minute.
yeah.
***********
crabtree isn't a fan of sleeping.
not even one tiny little itty-bitty bit.
nope.
no way. not once, not for a second, not ever.
i mean,
yes. he does actually sleep, eventually.
so i guess he kinda gets it,
but,
he only F*s with that if i'm not around to witness it.
y'know?
yeah.
while i'm away at work, he'll rest.
otherwise,
it's a turned-up terrible terrorist terrier terror attack at all times.
he doesn't walk, he runs;
he doesn't play, he battles;
he doesn't chill.
there is NO chill, at all.
he goes to eleven at all times.
and sometimes,
if i'm realllllly edgy and exhausted,
and he's been molto molto fired up, more so than usual,
we may go for a calming cruise around the neighborhood,
and then,
if i'm super super-duper lucky?
...he'll even regurgitate a steaming hot mess of curdled kibbles and cheesy bits.
huh?
oh, well,
yeah,
that's a real thing.
for instance,
we went for a ride the other night,
and the combination of frost-heaving bumpy roads, disorienting darkness,
and thick stinky cigar smoke took my normally car-savvy duder right over the edge
down the reverse-swallowing flip-flop superhighway to vomit town.
just so we're clear, when we're road trippin',
my aerodynamically elite ride-or-die co-pilot is usually like this:
awwwww.
s'cute.
but, when it was barfy barf time?
ugh- so grosssssssss.
then,
he was more like this:
holy sh!t.
like some resident evil, silent hill, 90's tool video jauns.
a horrifying gut-churning blurry nightmare creature,
slurping up his own steaming stomach stew from the seat.
neighbors,
i put my (fortunately) gloved hand right in that hot pile.
i did.
i heard hjim munching, and assumed, in the dark, whilst distracted by driving,
that he was chewing on something he shouldn't be.
the joke was on me,
because he was just eating his supper, again,
after a quick belly-fermentation session.
filthy.
sticky, stinky gloves, and a spewed-upon subaru,
and a race against his greedy teeth,
all so we could clean up and hose down and wash out all our soiled spaces and faces.
how do you spend your nights?
oh?
not like me?
that's weird, i felt so connected to all of you until right now.
aw.
i've got frozen bile on the bottoms of my floormats,
and i've got a short fuse being sparked by my recalcitrant and pugnacious pup.
he's got youth and teeth and boundless energy on his side,
but i've got deteriorating knees and opposable thumbs.
i s'pose it's anyone's guess who'll emerge victorious.
my money's on me,
but,
i'm willing to bet he'll beat the spread, kids.
more unintentional puns?
yep.
today is that kind of day;
never quiet, never soft.....
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