aftermathematics...

duders,
me and beau can put away some food.
no.
i mean,
in the way that warrior poets and berserker barbarians
feed off of each others' energy and excitement-
we activate the sinfulness of supercharged synergy
of shark-gluttony,
and take that sh!t to eleven.
but,
what am i taking about specifically?
i'm talking about the big bag of chips, b!tches.
y'heard?
yeah.
that's what we used to get our fatty faces stuffed with.
the greasy, turn-clear-under-high-heat jauns that look all thick and fancy.
what?
what??
oh.
sorry.
....as the bottom layer of our filthy flippin' nachos.
jeez.
take it easy, and check the teleport:

c'mon.
fake bacon strips, cubed-up and strewn about
over a whole heap of overreactivated refried beans-
with olives, scallions, chiles,
cilantro and daiya(rrhea) chee' by the bagful....
now,
you may or may not measure amounts,
when it comes to what you're making your face swallow.
except,
how will you know when it's too much?
which is to say-
how can you determine the just-right amount?
when you fix yourself a sizeable portion at dinnertime,
maybe you can just eat whatever whenever and never ever worry.
that's cool, i suppose,
but,
you're probably doing it wrong.
i'm just sayin',
we measure our servings in pounds.
yep.
that way,
we know we've gone too far, too quickly.
that's what it's all about.
more.
until there's none left.
teleport to just five minutes later:

ugh.
if you aren't prepared to hurt yourself,
you just aren't prepared enough to have dinner with me.
viking excess,
couched in Folk Life leisure,
and all of it,
always,
really happening along the secret universal folds and creases
of the woodsly F*ing goodness.
too much is the right amount.
the worthy ones already all know all about it;
never quiet, never soft.....