i put the ouch in it....

acorns, ya'll.
check out the weird nipple bottoms on these guys.
they look like rockin' jellybean boobs, son.
the bumper crop of oak nuts this year is amazing!
should prove great for turkeys and squirrels and mice, oh my!!
nature provides for itself,
fattening up squirrels to feed foxes and coyotes all winter,
so they in turn can eat everybody's garbage all summer...
until they get run over, so they can feed the crows.....
as long as somebody saves the bones for ME,
i'm all about the magical ecosystem chart....


when the scenic railway runs on abandoned tracks, traffic stops.
and i try to snap a few shots, before i also stop, and before the ghost train rolls out of sight.
this is the best i've got from my moving motor vehicle roving photoshoot. 
better luck next time that kind of thing happens, i guess....

"it isn't what you say, but how you say it"...
how often does one hear that kind of poop?
unless you're talking to a DOG,
it's not that real so much.
with people (not your peoples),
regular run-of-the-mill people,
it's actually more what you say immediately after you drop the fire spit fury on those ass'tards.
brutally honest folks are rarely fully appreciated for their truthfulness.
i'm just sayin',
keepin' it real, with tact is a subtle and very nearly martial art.
being mean, but not mean spirited, isn't good enough.
performance points based on delivery and style will be awarded.
there's standards that need be met.
solutions are more valuable than problems.
no one enjoys being told they are not just being dope,
or that their fire is tepid, not hot,
or that their sauce is weak,
or that their most barbarian berserker quality is their hairy back....
most people think that being up front, open, and really real,
kind of makes you a douche....
oh welllll;
the truth hurts,
and as such i put the ouch
in douchebag!
BUT,
you need to have options to present.
solutions to the waterbabyhead sodapantsed problems pressuring the populace.
little verbal band-aids for the prison shank slicing and dicing your ever-expressive face makes.
if,
when talkin' to a non-warrior poetry composer/poseur,
and you consistently make a face like their vocalized ideas smell like diarrhea,
a conciliatory assurance really should be made,
an 'i hear ya', or other non-commital quasi-agreement.
mostly, it's so they will continue giving you something to talk about later.
like an investment in awfulness/alchemical metallurgist magic spell.
taking lead turds and spinning them into pure conversational gold....
the hard-hearted hate heaped in huge humps around me, my ninjas,
it's only one ingredient in a real-life experience/human condition-interaction bouillabasse.
cooked in hot fire,
boiled in lava spit,
baked in barbarian battle-bard brick ovens,
and served up with stainless-steel wrenches as the only utensils to choose.
a hot airbag, a blowhard, a windbreaker, a breaker of wind....
change and war,
stoking that furnace,
what gets said, ya'll.
immediately after what gets said first.
the moment that makes or breaks it.
a true-story teller.
a true storyteller.
an unexaggerated superlative-heavy recounter of events from the trivial to the tremendous.
a true-story storyteller.
as a good friend perfectly phrased it:
creative NON-fiction.
i'm here to be the antagonist of weak sauce less-loud-than-eleven living.
it's all really happening,
never quiet, never soft....