fantastic voyage?

buckles on belts, ya'll.
another way to express yourself, your cleverness, your whateverness,
and also a way to keep your butt from showing as a result of falling pants.
buckles are also a term for weird cobblery fruit treats.
bucklers are a kind of small round shield.
and before laces,
dudes used to wrap their feet in shoes that repped buckles as fasteners.
which brings me to where i'm headed;
pilgrims.
generally speaking pilgrims are pretty flippin' weak-saucy.
in the early and late middle ages,
pilgrims mostly walked around looking at bits and pieces of long-dead saints' bodies.
talk about lame.
in the post-renaissance, dutch fruit-flutes and english protestant babypants would perpetually leave their countries,
wearing dumb hats, and waitin' for pocahontas-types to stick a fish under some corn seeds.
in fact, plenty of cultures offer some variation of a sacred journey to a special place,
to see where/how/why it all began;
y'know,
a pilgrimage.....
which is what my man shawn says the holidays are all about.
he might be right.
but still,
i think i'll hold to the righteous really realness of foregoing that noise,
and launching an equally excellent purifying power-packed punch-out party,
y'hearin' me?
what's a pilgrimage turned up to eleven???
a crusade.
in essence,
that's just another meaningful voyage to a sparkle-magical place,
but one where you think everyone else who is already there is wrong,
and you show up ready to go completely apesh!t bananas.
instead of going to see a batch of dead body-bits,
you make your own cache of cadavers upon arrival.
word up.
how else can anyone be expected to make any sense of being in connecticut?
berserker barbarian battle-beasts, mutha-uckas.
i'm locked and loaded,
and i'm less concerned about buckles
then i am about bein' strapped.
broke, busted, disgusted,
and heavily armed, ya'll.
like i said: strapped.

you know about new england weather?
how about a permanent state of snowfall?
every day, a little tiny bit, or a lot.
it's like nature is trying to help me go broke,
and go into a raging rage,
at the same time.
4a.m., the earliest yet.
that's the plow o'clock hour, i guess.
i sure love getting the bill from this guy.
serously.
sometimes,
if it snows a whole bunch,
he will show up four flippin' times in one storm.
that's $120!!, special delivery,
from deep up my a*hole,
straight to mr. early bird-brain,
and his wormy-gettin' self.
keep up the bad work!!!

everybody ready for the solstice?
battle-bard druidic berserker bonfire frenzy is scheduled for sunday evening-
that's right,
tomorrow is the first day of winter.
i guess this last month of crushing snowfall and single-digit temperatures
was actually just the pre-game warmup.
today is tied with the 22nd,
as the second darkest day of the year.
it's always that way,
before dawn.
keep those mayflowers powered, my pilgrims,
and those axes sharpened, my crucial crusaders;
never quiet, never soft.....