Tuesday, November 1

seven years gone.

yes, that's a thing.
my least favorite month, if that's possible,
with my most favorite meal snuck in at the end.
that's the way i look at this greying, icy, cold, old, busted,
and budget-A* b!tchness on the block of calendar squares i just flipped to.
the real question is:
bad luck jinxing lasts a full seven years, if the rules are to be obeyed-
and, i mean, c'mon, neighbors:
rules is rules.
like a poor reflection refracted through the silvered-bullet-point presentation
of a broken mirror, there's been a lingering pallor cast across my parlor,
as the last vestiges of my old life slowly decompose into death-do-us bones and dust.
if you were there, i probably haven't seen you in a while.
there are, like, three people i'll still chat with from back then,
but the rest have all disappeared.
maybe the jinx isn't ALL bad after all.
not everything we lose is valuable, i s'pose.
the jinx, bro-
i'm still, after this stretch of spanned space
and elaborately elapsed, elipsed, and eclipsed time,
unclear on the logistics of luck-
is the bad luck expired seven years to the day?
will it be tomorrow that starts the actual new hottness??
i don't know.
i DO know that it's all over in the next 24,
and the last 24 were a testament to the doo-doo buttery debris of being me without y'all.
dressed up with no place to go but work, and unable to work while dressed up.
it's a catch-22 (which isn't at all like taking it to eleven, twice)
and a no-win no-brainer-
no friends.
no parties.
no tricks.
no treats.
nowhere to go,
and all with a pulverized palate and plug-ugly pugged-up punched-in proboscis.
with nothing for it, what else was there for me to do?
you know the answer,
when all else is failing, there is just pizza left to save the day.
pizza came through, just like always,
and that's why i'm in love with pizza,
but i don't love you.
that's a hard style,
but the truth sure does sound like the truth, doesn't it?
word up.
check the hallowe'en-pizza-party-of-one-type teleport:

that is how i say goodbye to october!
somehow, someone left the lid off of it,
(i'm a little reluctant to blame myself, but i'm the only one here)
and it got a little questionably effed-up.
yuck, maybe.
but that meant i wasn't gonna poison myself.
no way.
instead it's a little simpler on the oiled-pressed-pan-bottom-b!tch circle of semolina,
and happily, it's no less expert for the lack of weirdie custom chee' blops.
that'sdue in large part to those crucial crushed tomatoes i use.
for real. it's better than that so-so sucio 'pizza sauce' that comes in a jar.
jar-jar binks sauce is NEVER invitred to my makeout parties-
of course, neither is anyone else.
i hit it up with both cheddar and mozzarella daiya chee',
a bunch of broth-braised broccolini,
homemade super-smoky spicy vegan magical sausages,
tempeh bacon bits,
caramelized red onions,
and those rainbow mini sweet pepper rings.
to recap, that's a broccoli, bacon, and onion x sausage and peppers combo.
double toppings, and winning flavor and texture.
damn, it's hard to eat food right now, broski-
i still AM,
it's all just wrecking me in new ways beyond the familiar.
PIZZA is what i rely on.
that's my thing.
that's my move.
that's what's really happening.
today may be the day the clouds lift and the fog clears
and the winds fill my sails without ever ruining the rest of the air around me.
or maybe that's tomorrow,
but, today is still the day.
just like every day, the next in a long line of sun-ups and sundowns,
and also the first in the new grid of grays and black.
this is it, like it or not;
never quiet, never soft.....

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