sunny day. real estate.

great gatsby repre-F*'n-sent, yo!
i'm gonna start callin' all ya'll mutha-flipz 'old bean';
all f. scott fitzgerald,
like a real sumb!tch!
booya, ninjas.

the weather is beautiful.
i wish you were here.
helping me pack up boxes upon boxes of bullets.
helping wrap up and then crate up the last fifty or so dolls.
stashing a bundle of wizardly walking sticks in the woods.
lending a hand as i roll some huge logs off the property line.
giving some encouragement as we scramble,
like greased-up piglets at a fairground,
trying to pull off a stay of execution......
y'know.
because that's what it is.
my whole life is real.
really real.
real hard.
real loud.
really happening, too.
unfolding at a breakneck pace,
right in front of my face.
louder than ten.
harder than rock.
word.
it's like i do this sh!t for a livin'.
i guess you could say i'm pro-life.
whoah!
take it easy leftie-liberal babies,
put your planned parenthood bumper-stickers away!
pro-life not just in literal terms of being anti-death,
but in NO way referring to gross little fetus creatures.
i couldn't care any less about that business.
either way.
i mean,
professional life-liver.
i was just abbreviating.
pro(fessional) life(-liver).
i get paid on a per diem, ya'll.
obviously.
and for the record;
when i said 'harder',
i meant it like: with more enthusiasm,
not harder, as in: with more difficulty.
turns out,
hard styles only recognize their own kind.
takes one to know one, an' that.
professionally living, ya'll.
every day,
in every way;
never quiet, never soft....