what the futhark?

word up.
seriously.
the futhark is really real.
barbarian letters, ya'll....
they look like sticks and branches,
but it's not that simple-
rumor has it that my homeboy Odin,
the big asgardian papa-bear,
plucked his own eyeball out,
dropped it down a well,
and hung from a tree for a while,
just to discover the secret wisdom
of the previously unknown runic hottness.
the runes aren't just lightning-strike sound-alikes, either.
each one has a name, too.
and a symbolic meaning,
and all of that kind of pagan tarot card crazy-person goodness, too.
i think they look cool,
and i love nordic destroyer stuff,
and i love alphabets,
and words, too.
 
what happened today?
vicious viscuous victuals
versus
versatile viking verses,
and vice versa.
heroic toasts,
heroic boasts,
and heroic ghosts...
verisimilitudinous much?
all damn day, ya'll.
all week, really,
it's been all about incredible edible quantities of eats and treats,
spirits,
memories,
gratitude & generosity,
and talkin' crazy amounts of sh!t.
i'm back to keepin' it bearded and weird.
like a gnarly nomad roamin' the roads,
i've got my mystical wizard-type sh!t a-poppin',
and i'm writin' out secret messages in ruined runes;
never quiet, never soft.....