Mischief Night!!

progress.
phase one of the background is complete.
but as to just what those green humpty dumps are,
i really don't exactly know, yet.
pom-poms? maybe, b!tch.
shrubs? probably not.
bubbles? c'mon.
yeah, they're just special roundies that hang out with this bearded battle bard,
while he summons up the hot hot fire.
word.

i've been stockpilin' some double-ply butt-wipin' ammunition, ya'll.
no, not because i anticipate some rectal revolution to revolt against my heinie-hole,
but because i'm ready to employ some youthful exuberance...
i'm talkin' about toilet paper bombin',
rotten yolk sourbaby sulphur eggs huckin' at cars, strangers, friends, and foes,
toothpaste terrorism under doorhandles and in keyholes,
shaving cream savagery,
petty pumpkin larceny,
burning bags of dog doo-doo butter blazing bright like beacons of badness,
window smashin',
carjackin',
drive-by shootin',
stealin' firstborn sons as sacreligious sacrifices to beelzebub, mephistopheles, and satan,
hard humpin' on witches and sproutin' tails, horns, and cloven hooves,
setting fire to cities,
leaving ash and pain and...
whoa. whoa. whoa. whoa. WHOA.
slow down for a second,
we're gettin' a little carried away.
let's stick to soaping cars, and smashing pumpkins.
but NO billy corgan, ok?
i'm talking about the one and only Mischief Night.
or devil's night, or hell night if you're not from around these parts.
one of the few nights a year when petty vandalism and disturbing the peace is a-o.k.
i know that the phillies won the world series,
so most of the mischief will be carried out in their name over in pa.
which means my peoples out that way have no excuse not to smash the place.
i hope everybody else is going to at least do some minor property damaging tonight.
i know i'm gonna.
i mean,
the sun is out after an extended absence.
it's like ma nature is tellin' me to wreck some sh!t up.
and when the woodsly goodness talks to me,
i listen.
hard.


it is so much easier making moves in a neat and tidy spot.
not that i ever contribute to putting things in order.
luckily for my sloppy-ass self,
jess took some time and hooked up our downstairs art room.
seriously.
it was overrun with dollmaking crap,
blockprinting crap,
battle beast drawing crap,
tattooing crap,
multicam pretend army man crap,
gun crap,
even a few little logs of mouse crap.
and now it's super organized,
and dope.
without her skills,
i would dwell in a hole made of collected bits of crap, apparently.
like the garbage ladies in labyrinth.

time is tickin'.
it gets dark early now,
so you can get a head start on t.p-ing the whole neighborhood.
i'm reppin' campfires, bonfires, forest fires, and spitfires,
never quiet, never soft...