out like a lamb.

it's warm out,
there's a gentle breeze blowing the scent of wet earth and pure water,
and the sun has been shining all flippin' day.
in like a snow-covered lion,
and out like a freshly shorn little baby-b!tch lanolin lamb,
march is done! 
i'm sayin',
this year is already 25% finished.
i hope everybody out there is satisfied with the first quarter score.
y'know,
comfortable and contented with what they've made of their allotted time thus far.... 
i've been busy,
hell,
i've been busy gettin' busy,
but i still only grade it as a B- average.
on the real,
i never find enough time to do all i gotta do.
plus,
there's a precedent to purport a penchant for misprioritizing my purposes.
double plus,
i get sleepy pretty easily,
and spend lot of time reading novels,
resting up for arthur/tatblasting/foodmaking efforts,
instead of staying up and reading blueprints of the secret universal variety.
....and that never helps.
BOLD and fortunate, most of the time, still holds true,
but it's the times in between that cause all the probems, my ninjas;
it also would seem that he who hesitates is surely lost:
despite a compass and a true-north starry sky to navigate the woodsly goodness by:
we waited a little bit too long to come up with a mortgage plan,
we waited a tad to too long to write up a business plan,
and we waited just a smidge too long to start looking for new rents!
i thought GOOD things are supposed to come to those who wait?!
turns out that first quarter of the year neither asked for nor granted me any.
(puns, b!tches... you like it)
now,
instead of a leisurely launch into new and exciting horizons,
it's a hard-style hard road to packing up,
relocating, refreshing,
reinventing, and reinvigorating our Folk Life livelihood.
it's only the start of the second quarter,
but it feels like sudden death overtime up here, my ninjas.
it's a mad dash to get the job done by May Day,
and i'm almost ready to issue a mayday call in the meantime.
it's a red-alert scramble,
as i'm so sure you can imagine;
like when rogue aircraft have invaded your personal space,
you've gotta mount an offensive defense to deter the doo-doo butter.
and believe me,
my space has definitely been invaded by some bit-part poop sprinkles.
unlike the 8-bit arcade variety,
i'm faced with two-bit turds,
and too many two-faced twittering twits to duly deal with their duality!
daaamn!
extended metaphors, mutha-uckas.
if only clever commentary could contribute to quality conclusions,
i'd write my own happy ending here,
and reap the rewards in real time.
alas,
it would seem that i'm destined to make some mistakes over and over and over.
today is the day,
even if i would rather wait until tomorrow....


all this packing and preparing is taking a taxing toll
on the portion of my elbow-pasta pile of skull-filling brainstuffs
that i usually dedicate to arthur-making motivation.
i've got a whole batch of half-cooked ideas,
al dente like a mutha-ucka,
just waiting to receive their share of attention.
good things.
that's the forecasted conclusion to the waiting game on that stuff, at least.
oh yeah,
the picture doesn't lie;
despite the strain on the grey matter macaroni,
real macaroni helps me carbo-load for the big action.
we had spaghetti and rigatoni recently.
we're italian, after all, ya'll,
go easy.....

i pity the fools who aren't excited about april;
never quiet, never soft.....