missin' you

i got a super-duper package today.
it had the hurtiest looking antique pipe wrench i've ever seen in it,
and some stickers,

which are dope,
and a book about alaskan stuff (kinda).
all of which makes me think of how not nearby any of my old friends i am currently living.
i mean, we're close, and i've got cigars,
but we're not literally close,
and so we're so close yet so far, 
which is to say close, but no cigar...........
i've got new friends, sure.
and i'm takin' nothing away from any of those folks at all.
i'm just sayin'...
my peoples from the pre-woodsly goodness times aren't around me nearly enough.
this upcoming convention should be good for that,
infrequent phone calls don't quite cut it, y'know?
ninjas better be ready to hang out.
i will be derailing all attempts at professionalism, hard work, and lucrative time investments.
absentee alaskans and new york hustlers aside,
i'm really all about spanning time with you mofos.
in fact,
next weekend,
i'm re-instating an old event:
the crucial.
anybody who knows about the newhamden collective,
or the band murphy's law
(go listen to 'crucial barbecue', but omit the lots o' herb and the keg of brew),
or the old version of turnpike tattooo,
will know all about the derivative pot-luck free-for-all called the crucial.
basically,
i don't care about workin' or makin' loot,
because once you're turned up all the way to eleven,
all you can do is spit out a mouthful of incredibly hot fire,
like a basement punk show sing-a-long,
i expect all of you there to help me rock out,
epic varsity-letter youth crew stagedive style,
never quiet, never soft.....