doesn't it just figure?
it's raining here in waterbaby weak-saucepan nancyville.
what the f* ever...
last night,
after the dirty doo-doo butter 'pilgrimage' across new england,
and a visit with my folks,
and a stopover at my most favoritest uncle, ed's house;
we went out for a slew of slices,
at new haven's premier brick-oven joint: pepe's pizza,
with maple star, harvest, and holly...
afterwards,
we saw my little sister, anna,
at mamoun's, for delicious desert an' that.
warbat, yo.
that's the business.
belated berfday banquets went off without a hitch.
nice, kid, nice.
XI-mas eve is upon us, ya'll.
i'm kickin' back in old lyme,
enjoying the whiteness,
the wetness,
and the excellent hospitality of jess's family.
i'm tryin', my ninjas,
to keep the worthy work in my mind,
and the visions of sugarplums dancin' all up in there too.
i have a feelin' in in for more of a ballbustin',
errrm, i mean nutcracker suite.
sweet.
put that in your stocking,
and stuff it, mutha-uckas.
never silent, never night.....
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