The pooch.....

I have a pooch....

I ain't proud of it, but, I ain't ashamed of it either.

When I keel, I wouldn't mind it if the service went something like this:

That Victurd.. he kinda lived life with trade-offs... He knew that eating, sampling, devouring, yummmy delectable's might give way to a pooch, but he figured "eh, not a bad trade off... "

He dreamed of JackStack pulled pork...... He pushed to the fronta the line at Arthur Bryants.. He regularly stopped by the "it's so-and-so's birthday at work, here, come eat all this crap" ten to twelve times a working day.

A hot Lamar's donut at 6am. That steamy cappuccino.. Apple pie, a huge breast at Strouds.. peanut butter cookies..

He didn't mind his belly. In fact, he worried when skinny folks passed that they chose not to experience, devour, yum, be selfish upon occasion.

Not Victurd. He never pushed away from the table. If it was "all you can eat", by God, he did that. McDonalds Big Breakfast with hotcakes - "might I get an extra syrup?".. a Frosty.. a Butterfinger... Zingers, yum, zingers.

What are you gonna do today Victurd? "Eh, it's free sample day at the Piggly Wiggly, then I ain't decided what, after."

Pecan pie - is this heaven? Brownies.. French fries.. Onion Rings.. Chili dogs.. Brats.. SAUSAGE.. CHEESE.. fried potatoes.. Did I say Butterfinger?.. Salted peanuts..... pecans.. CASHEWS when I had the extra fitty cents to buy insteada the salted peanuts - nuttin' personal salted peanuts, u pleased me many a day on the drive into work.

A good, yummy steak. A disgustingly fat tenderloin. BBQ ribs (enter cuisine orgasm here).

A la carte, appetizing, Au gratin, blanched, braised, buttery, caramelized, chilled, chocolaty, chopped, crispy, deviled, divine, dripping, fragrant, fried, heavenly, inviting, kosher, laced, moist, mouthwatering, nuked, piquant (Victor, that doesn't fit you.. bite me, I liked the word).. rare, scrumptious, seasoned, simmering, sliced, sugarcoated, tasty, titillating, yummy, zestful.

Ever eat a pine tree? Many parts are edible. Jk. Let's just say, Victurd lived life watching what he ate, in his own kinda way.

He thrived on "yum"... "too much"... "where's the Rolaids"... "why not?"

Once upon a time, he had a flatbelly - but the older he got, he didn't give a rats. Trade off. Pooch/delectable. Yum.

Time to go. Gotta swing by the fridge en route to bed. See what my fork can find. If only I had someone to spoon with. Victor, you're weird. Don't care. Kiss my pooch. Love, Victurd