orcs, fire, root beer.

the guy fawkes fire was excellent.
now,
i hope you don't mind,
but i am gonna do some viking-style boasting,
just for a second,
about my caveman combustion conquistador skills;
the 'log house' method i employ is really pretty fresh,
like anglo-saxon dark age funeral pyres.

it acts as a natural chimney to encourage inflammability.
see how the flames are floating towards the smaller top sticks?
the longer kindling sticks i lay on the sides, act as lean-to poles,
and keep the main tower from crumblin' anywhere but in on itself.
the clementine boxes are there just because burnin' stuff is awesome.
and the large 'anchor' log in the back maintains structure and prolonged radiant heat,
like a giant hot coal storage unit.
fire science kicks out the jams, b!tches.
without adding any extra fuel, the fire still burned for hours.
add in a beaver makin' scary late night tail-slaps,
over and over and over,
and that's what's poppin, ya'll...
i did bring out some water in a bucket though.
because i didn't rake a single leaf surrounding the blazing battle-hearth,
and it was lookin' pretty flippin' hazardous as the embers, sparks, and coals started rollin';
and like smokey the bear says:
only you (or me) can prevent forest fires.
manlier than woodsy the owl, right?
hootin' an' not pollutin' an' that.


^^i am not intentionally making a rap album cover face.
it's just the only one i have.
it's supposed to be a fashion model face,
because i'm modeling my fresh gear-
i've got my homemade new hat on,
and check out that knit-up bandana scarf i'm rockin'.
you know you want one.
my pennsylvanian friend jenny makes 'em,
and you can buy one for yourself,
and another for your special friend,
right here.

i hope you can handle this:
i'm reading a book called 'orcs'.
and i have to confess that i'm 500 pages balls-deep into it,
having only started it yesterday.
what happens when you combine epic nerdiness with obsessive compulsion?
half a thousand pages of orcs,
that's what.
the only problem i'm having, surprisingly,
(and luckily i already have a sweet honey homegirl,
as a terrific understanding of orcs seems unlikely to help anyone make a love connection)
is that it isn't based on my previous knowledge of orcs,
y'know,
like tolkein and d&d stuff...
so although it IS written in british english,
it isn't in keeping with the tradition established
 by the other hundred books
with orcs in 'em i read before this one. 
how's THAT for revealing my inner no-friends trenchcoated teenager?!
the moral of the story is:
good thing i love guns and bonfires,
and do some fresh tatblastin',
because otherwise,
i'm pretty mutha-flippin' gaytarded.
that just happened, by the way,
in case your mind is too blown away to register what you just read.
consider that my concession speech for all my anti-voting campaigning all week.


i chugged three different kinds of root beer yesterday.
we ate some of the magical pumpkin pie our buddy holly brought over,
and i spent a ton of time outside.
reading about orcs an' that, but still... 
oh yeah,
i have a savage gypsy plague with a side of severe sinusitis,
i'm purging pounds of pumpkin pie fillin' out of my noseholes,
never quiet, never soft...