ouch!!!!

mathemagician accountants,
local lending institutions,
federal income graboids,
minkie ex-wives,
funky bosses....
ALL the linkie-lipped hard-stylers out there,
are trying SO HARD to stick me for my papers!!!!
right up the fruit flute chute, my ninjas.
that's where the hotspot destination seems to be.
why else would all the usurers and money-lenders want
that particular pound of flesh???
what the F*, ya'll?!
that bright spot at the end of the tunnel
must be the bowl of the porcelain palace,
or maybe the bottom of the barrel i'm huckle-buckled over,
because the ol' log flume has been gettin' a deep dark workout
from within and without.
ouch!
this is one of those times where i've got to believe
the secret universal plan is looking out
for it's adherents, acolytes, advocates and avengers.
i can't see it,
but that doesn't mean it's not there.
as long as i'm feelin' it,
with my spidery ape-knuckled hands
or my savage stormswept gypsy heart,
then it's all still really happening.
good faith assessments of hard-style situations an' that....
i mean,
sometimes a secret can be a good thing, right?
like showing up to a surprise party!
just because it's unknown doesn't make anything unknowable.
that's optimism, my ninjas.
welll,
i'm wearin' my party hat all day,
hold-my-breath expectant-type business.
just-in-case boy scout preparedness, even.
i'm going to a party, mutha-lickas,
whether it be a victory celebration or a retirement consolation,
i don't know where all ya'll are at,
but i'm here already,
i'm at the fire.
never quiet, never soft......