black shoes.

are those the two biggest pieces of black licorice in history?
nah, my ninjas.
y'know what they say about big feet, yeah?
nice shoes look dumb on them.
i'd already disproved the o.g. rumors about a big stick,
but with the clickety-clackety heels on 'em,
so much for walking softly, too.
with only a few days left,
i've finally got my wedding garb sorted out.
was it a problem?
i didn't think so,
but the lady who sold me those sexy sole-crushers did.
she hit me with a little:
'ooooh, dress shoes. are you going to a hallowe'en party?'
so i let her in on the big news.
and then she yelled at me for procrastinating.
is it possible i shop for shoes a little too often,
if the clerk feels entitled to observe and report on my doings?
i hadn't realized we were that close.
i mean,
i thought unsolicited opinions and scathing critiques
were purely the province of warrior poets.
i'd probably take advice from an actual cobbler.
or maybe even a blueberry cobbler,
but not from a female al bundy.
however,
we really aren't ready.
at all.
i mean,
we're ready to be ready already,
but,
we're pretty busy with this old busted house of ours;
getting it cleaned up and primped for the parties is one thing,
but needing actual repairs is an entirely other other animal,
and that puts a crimp in everything all the time.
we've got masons and electricians and home improvers
all headed over to try and do a little emergency field surgery.
yeah.
i made some monday-morning moves, too.
i went and scoopled up all my guns!!!!
this house just became an entirely defensible position.
what's more romantic than swapping rings whilst strapped with a thunderstick?
...nothin'.
my gun-safe storage situation has been great.
in fact,
all my big-bore battle blasters were out and waiting for me to come and claim 'em.
lined up in a row, in someone else's house,
i got a decent glimpse into just how intense it must be to come over to my house.
i'm locked, and loaded, and prepared
for zombies, world wars, riots, revolutions, doomsdays, and famine.
well,
maybe not famine, actually.
we didn't get a cake for this sunday.
seriously.
i actually didn't even remember that until i just typed it.
nice.
so,
if you're keeping score,
that's a positive for guns,
a negative for cakelessness,
a double negative for broken home homeopathy,
seems to me i'm in the hole.
(that's what she said?)
but let me tell you ninjas a little something:
i will be lookin' good this weekend.

tonight,

we're going to write up some voracious viking vows.

that should be a treat.

i'm sure that if we're honest with each other,

they'll go something along the lines of:

'i promise to stick around until i find someone who can cook vegan treats but doesn't always talk

about barbarians.'

or

'i promise you i won't poison or shoot or otherwise harm the dog.'

communication is important in a healthy relationship,

but so are realistic expectations.

ahhhh, romance.

since there's no plan other than ending up wih a signed marriage license,

i'm sure it'll all be big fun.

in the meantime,

we've got brickwork to lay.

because without the bricks,

it's just a sh!t-house;

never quiet, never soft.....