doo-doo that.

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
i take it to eleven, neighbors.
cupcakes?
yes, indeed.
chocolate frosted chocolate cupcakes,
with chocolate sprankles?
F*ing right, kids-
check the teleport:

wooooord.
that's the sh!t.
and i'll eat the sh!t.
little mouse poops on thick dog poops
on big blarpity road-apple-ish horse poops;
that's exactly what those jauns look like.
recognize, and turn brown with envy.
oh,
and there are mini-baby chocolate chiplets on top
hidden under the poop-icing.
uh-huh.
too much is always the right amount.
huh?
really?
you think i could take it further?
okay,
then check out this teleportational next-level activation:

F* all y'all.
that's chocolate goobieblop filling, mutha-b!tches!!!!
doo-doo butter?
i doo-doo that.
crapcakes in full effect for my face.
that's how i get busy when it's time to get busy.
how can i be so skinny,
and still live so fat?
y'wanna know why?
because i'm a warrior poet,
and i'm like that.
***********
bad weather is only bad if you've got plans.
i don't,
so this rainy gayness is great.
i'm not kayaking, or rock climbing, or trail running,
or hiking, biking, sports-teaming, or whatever.
i'm working.
indoors.
and i couldn't give less of a sh!t about any of it.
awwwwwwwwwww, man!
i rep a hard style, duders.
and i'm as stylish as i've been in a while.
*
plural pleural cavities?
like, a second hole in my torso?
i think so.
only this other one is an abyss.
my best guess?
it's somewhere behind my heart and lungs.
black, cold, empty, all that stuff...you get the gist.
no light enters, no light escapes,
no thermodynamic energy is generated.
there is minimum entropy,
and a void of genesis.
that's a big batch of anti-matter and x-rays, y'all.
a whole lot of nothing, even.
ABSOLUTE ZERO.
registered as either a nil set,
or a massive deficit of degrees.
it's all really happening, all the time, everywhere,
except in there.
try that on for size this morning,
and enjoy your monday;
never quiet, never soft.....