january's over.

i spit hot fire.
actually,
i was using a burning stick to catch a cigar a little tiny bit on fire.

i spit hot fire?
nope again.
this time i dropped the camera a little and it got the fire in frame, too.

i spit hot fire!
or,
i chug on burning black phallic sausages.
in or out,
there's no smoke without fire.
and either way,
i definitely got 'the dragon'.
which, for all you suburban white people,
is archaic urban slang for stank-ass doo-doo breath. 
nothin' exemplifies an epic night of woodsly gooodness 
like breath so bad it gives you nightmares. 
for serious. 
you must be doing somethin' pretty gnarly,
to wake up with crying teeth. 
i'm sayin'.

an eleventh level, layered, log lambasting, laser lightning launchpad!
one of the best built bonfires in a long time.

we added some cinnamon scented pine cones every few minutes.
it smelled exactly like awesome.
and burning.
and cigars.
but it started out smelling exactly like awesome.

like my man popeye, ya'll.
equal parts stink wink and squinkie eye. 
i'm strong to the finish.
and i am also full of cinnamon buns.
i should've maybe skipped the last one,
but then i figured:
being strong to the finish, choosing the wrench, bringing the thunder,
takin' it to eleven, being favored by fortune for being bold,
& hatin' on that weak-sauce,
i really had no choice.
wouldn't you know it, and doesn't it figure,
i was caught by catchphrases.

yesterday was our buddy jenny's birthday.
we love her.
i was busy being a busy busybody,
and getting fancy license plates,
and didn't mention it here.
happy belated an' all that cupcakes and candles sh!t.
like that crazy lady says, homegirl:
no one belongs here more than you.
))<>((
now come back up and help us move!
(sometimes without the sweet, the bitter's not so bitter, either)


my very special friend paul heads out this mornin'.
i'm grateful for all the burly burlington road trippin',
winter warmth in the form of hot fires, coffees, cigars,
and the most excellent conversations.
gettin' sh!tty news, and vanity plates,
are both better with your buddies around you.
he definitely showed up just in time.
word.


january's over, ya'll.
already.
all you ninjas wanna do me a favor?
buy some of my art.
on the cheap.
how?
email me.
call me.
hell, you can stop over. (just call first, kids, i'm armed to the teeth and hate pop-overs)
i just can't move this much stuff.
i'm serious.
my inconvenience is every art appreciator's good fortune for the next three months.
if you want to know what's up for sale,
hit me up,
and i'll send you the private selection,
first come, first served type action.
battlebeasteleven@gmail.com
do it.


tomorrow, my ninjas,
isn't just a new day.
it's february 1.
B.H.M., my ninjas.
28 days of dark chocolate dopeness.
get ready.
never quiet, never soft....