imperfect echoes.

neighbors,
i don't just like to eat pizza....
i LOVE pizza.
everywhere, all the time, in my face,
and in my bellyhole,
and in my oven, and on a plate, or in a box,
or whatever, whenever, forever and ever.
me and pizza are best friends.
that's no joke.
because pizza,
even at it's low-down dirty and most sh!ttiest moments,
has never let me down.
in fact,
as pizza and i have grown up, and matured,
and experienced life together,
we've only gotten closer,
and more expert,
and more fulfilled by each other as two entities that support and respect
our intertangled symbiotic synergy.
we're a woven work of art, pizza, and i.
i mean it.
i'm just sayin',
ever since i started using my elite underchee' method of crusty hottness activation,
i feel like pizza and i are more in love than ever before.
for realises.
cashews and tofu and garlic and olive oil and nootch and g.p.o.p.,
and smoked paprika, and cayenne, and turmeric, and black pepper,
all in together now, all working towards a powerful protein pesto,
and spread out behind the scenes and beneath the glamorous goodness
on a rough circle of doughy dopeness?
mmmmhmmmmm.
if you can't hang out with the underchee',
you actually just can't hang out.
that's a thing.
anyway,
last night a pizza saved my life.
well,
at any rate, a pizza or two, found a way to improve my evening.
yeah.
check the one-two-combination-type teleport:

too F*ing right!
caramelized baby sprankle brown sugar vidalia onion pizza,
with simple crushed tomato sauce,
over underchee' shmears,
on a beer-batter sourdough crust, with daiya(rrhea)chee' accents,
for that super-official cheesy pull.
can you feel me baby?
and i know you can.
hey, listen, man-
that was the first full-blown flavorful freshness i'd been feeling in a minute.
but,
of course,
that's not enough...
(it never is)
i had to go down on a whole other 'nother big business burly 'za blast.
check the double-dose-of delicious-type teleport:

too F*ing right, times two!!
brick-colored canadian-style smoky bacony chunks of vegan weirdie jauns,
and braised up, lightly seasoned sweet potato slices,
over that cheesy pull,
over that simple sauce,
over that underchee' on that thick crusty slab.
duders,
the baking stone did it's job,
and made the crust SO flippin' perfect.
overall, these babies got top marks,
and underneath, they got it poppin' with intention, attention, action, and overreaction.
there's a system in place,
and it works.
too much is the right amount,
and all of it all the time is really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....