wipe-out!

oh, my, MY, my.
lookie here.
my Folk Life fiefdom just got fresher.
well past ten, and testing the limits of eleven,
i've got heavy metal hook-ups all over the place.
no head-banging, either.
wrought, forged, cast, cut, and hammered.
oil-rubbing is on the menu, too.
do you feel the force of woodsly goodness?
it's probably emanating off of your
computer screen right about now;
what makes a barbarian battle-bard get goosebumps?
decorative hardware.
and i've got a tingle in my tips.
y'know why?
because when i'm doin' the wipe,
i want that luxury on my wrinkle-dot.
check it:

dear french victorian t.p. roll holder,
you are my sunshine sunburst of burly bronze beauty.
and that wood spindle in your middle?
...yeah.
you're so the hottness.
xoxoxoxo,
-albie.
***********

i know it hurts, kids.

i know.

that much epic detail,

that much decadent doo-doo accoutrement,

it surely stings a little bit.

that's the sensation of brutal hot-to-death dopeness.

don't worry,

once a roll of quilted two-ply is hooked up,

it actually feels soothing.

you heard it here first-

if i'm destined to be an A*-hole,

i'm gonna be a furious, spurious, luxurious A*-hole.

and that goes double for my actual A*-hole.

and unless you're an A*-hole,

you're all the way all about it, too.!

***********

sorry carhartt tard-carts,

but no canvas-clad heinies get to doo-doo any freaky sh!ts.

not once, not never-ever,

and not in my new wood-walled water closet.

that's reserved for classy-asses only.

i'm just lettin' you ninjas know in advance...

dress to impress, and wear your sunday trousers,

if you want to drop 'em along with some logs up in here.

and that's the double-truth, ruth.

***********

and that's what's happening over here.

small wonders.

it's all the little things that add up, yeah?

and these little things are all big on dopeness.

that adds up to something huge.

like the freshest outhouse-sized lavatory around.

some people thing good enough is good enough,

but enough is never ever enough,

and if you think you've got too much of a good thing,

it's probably not all that good.

i've got just the right amount of a good thing;

a woodsly goodness thing, even,

and i'm busy trying to fit in a little more.

good enough is never enough.

it bears repeating, my ninjas.

that's the difference between 'scale-of-1-to-10' folks,

and us berserker barbarian battle-beasts.

we don't just go the extra mile,

we always take it too far,

because you can never actually go too far.

(smoke rings, globes, and ghost circles just start over)

past the point of no return, and back to the beginning;

never quiet, never soft.....