i did it, duders.
i did a good one,
and i felt good.
and then i did a fat one,
and felt accordingly.
salads are secretly super dope.
and i make 'em especially expert.
that's just it.
a big ol' burly barbarian bowlful is super-fulfilling,
and molto nutritious an' sh!t.
i was feeling like a responsible adult,
tuning up a big bowl of wet leaves and veggies,
without any added oils,
and with seeds and sh!t all over the top.
here's the situation:
as i was getting out all the leafy greens,
i noticed a stray pizza dough that had somehow avoided detection previously,
and in that very instant,
the decision to do the thing was set in stone.
a BANG BANG, buddy.
too much is the right amount.
it's almost like i'm possessed by a spirit of boundless eternal hunger or something-
a vegetarian wendigo, a megalodontic ghost of gluttony,
a boss hog of boorish boarish pigging out....
the salad was on point:
veg on veg with all the brightly colored varieties of baby leaves,
and sugarsnap peas, pea shoots, cukes, carrots, radishes, sunflower power,
dried cranberries, raisins, tomatoes, red onion, radicchio, and cilantro,
all covered in sharp, sweet white balsamic vinegar....
i mean, c'mon, man.
that's enough for one person, or it should be, anyway.
the pizza came through for the epic encore.
i knew i would take dinner somewhere special yesterday.
i didn't know it would be a banger ✕2.
PEE EYE ZEE ZEE AYY.
homemade pepperoni?! yup.
seared cauliflower? yessssss.
spinach and caramelized leeks? hell yeah!
fried garlic and parsley sprankles?
rule is rules.
a fattie boombattie pizza is something there is always going to be room for.
and sure, i could've just eaten a slice,
or maybe two,
instead of the whole thing.....
...but only if i was a little loser.
and i'm not that, brother.
the dough was spent, so the crust was crackery...
that's what happens when the dough sneaks to the back of the fridge,
and gets all tired out back there.
the toppings carried that day, of course.
i baked it at only 450℉, thinking that was a good idea.
i don't know,
i just do things, with no real inkling as to why.
that's part of why i love cooking-
it's just doing a bunch of stuff that usually turns out well.
unlike real life-
which is a lot of worrying about things that usually turn out even worse.
a BANG BANG, tho.
that's twice as much more awesomeness than one person should be allowed.
there's nobody here to join me,
so there's nobody here to stop me.
that's great news for my stomach, but bad news for my gut.
the day is flying fast and far away from me.
who can say how it'll end up?
but i can say there will be tarts aplenty before days end,
and that's a pretty elite outcome, as a matter of fact;
never quiet, never soft.....