Thursday, June 11

parades.

seven hundred and ninety one.
that's the number of turbo-nerd pages of literary dorktardedness i've read,
from tuesday night to wednesday night.
i'm fighting back against the savage squandering of my grey matter,
sacrificed to the demonic dance of digital cable television....
by immersing my whole head into commercial-free concentration.
how much geeky fantasy novel reading is too much?
eight hundred pages worth, obviously.
clearly i was within the legal limit for dungeons & dragons.
i'm currently suffering differing degrees of just be dopeness, for sure
what can i say?
i'm more than a litle bit lame.
but,
i've also got some schematics sketched up in my braincase
for a three-wheeled full-size puppet tricycle.
who knows how to weld, my ninjas?
i'm ready for the Folk Life & Liberty flagship to begin construction.
i'm sayin',
a long, tall easy rider, with streaming flags and a big-ass big head all up on it,
leading the way for a whole parade of bold and worthy mutha-uckas....
i've always hated parades, yo.
probably because of how weak-sauce watching a bunch of uniformed A-holes is.
then again,
protest parades are pretty 'ucking rad to the nads.
puppets and musicians and crusties with bucket-drums, and stilt walkers,
and all of that kind of hottness.
that's as really real and flavorfully fresh as it gets.
so clearly,
that's what we need.
and that's what i'm talking about right now.
a rural reaper, not so grim,
and decked out to reap what he's been sowing;
which of course is Folk Life & Liberty.
c'mon.
a better fate, an' that.
now,
if we can find a place to live,
a headquarters and home base,
then the biggest action can get underway...
i'm still ready;
never quiet, never soft.....

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