2.27.2007
end it all.

sensuous. (sen-shoo-ush) adj. : Relating to, suggestive of, or appealing to sense gratification

hooly shee-it shoe has run inta the Bowl of the YEAR. JIRO, in the motherfuckin' sengawa, laid shoe the shit oot wit a mauling crosscut. here's how it happened..

shoe had his eye on this joint, what wit all they boogers always hangin oot the front, trying to get in and all like they wanted to eat. an so it came ta be that shoe had the chance to give it a go.. an lucky ass shoe he wuz cuz they was only one skinny sweaty booger in front o shoe in the line.

then a voice come a boomin' from the shoppe, "ANY OOMORI COONTS OOT THERE?" he says.. 'NAYE!' shoe squeaked. wtf?

shoe had a looksee at the vendin machine options. we gots the ramen, the pork-in ramen, then a mad combo o' increasiningly ree-dickulus volumes o pork n noodles. shoe went for the modest ramen, pork IN. shoe then squirted up to the counter, the joint reekin o pepper n garlick. two hardworkin' muthas were rockin the pans, scoopin out great PILES o noodles and MOUNDS of moyashi n fixins.

jiro is a workin' man's paradise. word to wise, the bowls are MONSTER. "garlick?" the hardworkin' mutha asked. naye. shoe's B when it came was big, but it was teeny compared to the skinny sweaty booger next to him. THAT bowl was a quibbly jibbly mass o noodles n porky shtuff. jiro is all about they noodles, likes. an you gets plenty o' them. thick as udon, and tastee as fuck. soup? what the fuck is that? shoe snapped a quick piccie, an dived in. by the time shoe got near the end o the B, the SSB next to 'im had just got the noodles down to the bowl-line. volume ex-po-nential, like. oh, an the pork? massive, fellas, massive. like as in shoe gots a whole block o the shtuff all to hisself. five or six slabs, thick as a ciggie case, bigger than yo mama's brown dime.

it took a while, but shoe got outta there in one piece, juice dribblin down his chin, a snotty nose an stretch marks on his belt. he then cracked oot three great farts to the delight o the small phalanx o punters a-waitin outside (seemed like nite o the livin' dead during the bowl, with people all slowly accumulatin', peering in the windows.)

three giant mass-o-humanity towers wit freakin' tentacles n' shit inna middle o a crackin' thunderstorm for the jiro. ROCK \m/

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