unlucky numbers

friday the thirteenth!!!
so 'poooooky.
it would've been a great day,
if anything happened.
yeah.
actually,
it's a decent date, albeit a broken-record, broken mirror-image of every other
doo-doo buttery day this week.
it is so super-slow these days.
it's 'special ed.' slow.
it's molasses-flowing-uphill-in-winter slow.
so slow it has actually stopped, is more like it.
it's hard to worry about black cats and sidewalk cracks an' all that,
when the grit-grimy bad luck bonanza
of tatblastin' bleakness is blurrin' your vision.
i'm just sayin',
try working at the white mountain wrenchhole,
and then worry about bad news....
boooooooooo.

i didn't make any money.
at all.
but i did buy a leaf blower/mulcher.
a heavy-duty ferocious autumn destroyer.
really.
it's so dope.
if you like that sort of thing.
F* all that raking.
that's word.
if i ever need another 'nother blistered hand,
i'll spit a little hot fire on it
and ho-slap a ninja 'til my mutha-lickin' palm swells.
(that's hood, b!tches)
this mean mama-jama can kickstart some winds.
y'heard?
i mean it,
it's a gas powered barbarian blowblack blaster,
and it makes some kind of hurricane force wind funnel.
and,
it also blows in reverse.
so it could very well be like watching spaceballs backwards, too.

i talked to my buddy mike holmes.
he lives in south korea.
for four more weeks.
then it's even more world-wind whirlwind travel.
craziness.
he just be's an ex-pat cracker-ass in asia;
while i'm firmly rooted, and buyin' home lawn & garden accessories.
which may be why it's always a little surreal,
talking to instrumental building blocks of personal history.
where you're at, and where you're from, and where you're headed.
and not just the short-version view: the woods, hamden, and nowhere.
y'know,
i've known that duder since forever.
and ever.
we never see each other,
and we suck at correspondence,
which probably helps our friendship, for sure.
a little tiny bit of the two of us goes over like oil and vinegar.
we don't mix, but we are sort of delicious at the same time.
maybe i'll just injure my innards with some hot kim chee.
and for old time's sake add some peanut butter and mustard, too.
(trust me on this one, it's totally holmesian)
a stomach ache, hard-style eats, and a breath-to-ass golden ratio?
it'll almost be like a little reunion,
only without my friend,
but with the addition of an oily red ring around the toilet.
that's a real thing.
never quiet, never soft.....