icy and spicy

yeah!
you know these dolls make really great XI-mas gifts, right?
so how come ya'll aren't tryin' to contact me about gettin' some?
on the ones, ya'll,
i'm sellin' a whole bunch of 'em,
for a price too low to write down.....
you really should write to me more, my ninjas.




jess found these stickers from a few years back.
ghetto-tech style. 
i have a few left,
if anybody wants some,
you gotta let me know,
and i'll send you a couple...


oh, and the noodle (pronounced noo-doo) bowl?
savagely delicious.
the teriyaki carmelized shiitake and tofu toppin's,
with black sesames and peanuts?
elite.
the bok choy joy and whole-bulb garlic gregariousness for my bellyhole?
well, if you see a devilish translucent onion ring,
let me know, but don't touch it,
it's my butthole.
i blew it right off my body,
again.
how about those drips on the table?;
i admit i may have been eatin' it like a sloppy homeless soup kitchen bum,
before i remembered to document the deliciousness.


this super-cutesy little red squirrel tortures my dogs.
so hard.
he impatiently waits on the snowbanks for me to finish shoveling the decks,
so he can simultaneously scavenge birdseed out from under the snow,
and make the canine caterwaulers go completely apesh!t bananas.
thanks, mr. a-hole squirrel,
i was hopin' to watch my pets flip the f* out.
a hundredteen times a day.
nice work.

as an aside,
shawn hebrank and i were talkin',
and i mentioned the dirty doo-doo buttery depths of eastern europe,
where the epic and amazing Dark Ages docudrama was filmed.
it looks like it didn't get much brighter over there in the 1200 years or so since.
in fact,
as i said to him,
washing up, taking out the trash, and staying tidy take a back seat...
the only thing that ever seems to get cleansed is the 'ethnic' they're always talkin' about.
it must be filthy,
since every couple years they spend months scrubbin' it into submission.
never trust the "-anias", ya'll...
i'm sayin'.
watch your back(side).

we had a crucial ice storm last night,
and everything is coated with a shiny skin of slick sleet.
as usual,
the plowtard woke me up...
it was 4:30 a.m.
that's awfully early;
he must just spring outta bed,
eager as ever to do a super-sh!tty half-assed a*hole job.
(that's a semi-circular crater, for those doin' the math)
i wish hate upon him.
not as extreme or permanent or karma-staining as wishing death.
just some hard-hearted hate,
like bee stings,
or diarrhea,
or nail fungus.

tonight,
we're going to eat hippie pizza,
and see a play, 'carol's christmas',
with those kooky kids from the workplace.
patrons of the arts, an' that.
fun is how you make it,
not where you make it;
never quiet, never soft...