rabbit!! rabbit!!

rabbity-blabbity!
double-lagomorpha warcry action.
midnight moonlight mantra, my ninjas.
shoutin' out loud like paul stanley, even.
you know what that means:
it's march.
goose-steppin', parade walkin', full-figured formation.
march.
left. right. left.
the borderlands of barbarism.
the frontiers of hot fire.
the no-man's land between the woodsly goodness,
and everywhere else.
march.
how much good stuff happens in march?
well,
not much if you're julius caesar,
but otherwise,
there's lions and lambs aplenty for everyone else.
especially if you're a kite.
windy roaring charged-up gusts an' all that.
march madness.
spring fever.
college basketball? boooooooooo.
st. patrick's day!
irish folks celebrating a dead italian guy!
drunk A*-holes? boooooooooo.
springtime!
a.k.a. the vernal equinox!
my ma's berfday!
y'know,
march.
i don't think new hampshire got the news.
it's still acting just like february up here.
including the worsening weak-sauce weather.
from our kitchen window
we can watch the wall of wetness ride up
and over the moat mountains.
like a gigantic smoke machine of misty magic.
and then the suckiness hits.
it's cool to watch,
and it make the tea and the toast taste better, too.
nature-type sh!t is dope.
***********
today's my friday equivalent.
and for the first time in a long time,
i've got weekend wassailing to anticipate.
yep.
come wednesday,
i'm even gettin' a little last minute tatblast action on me.
true story.
but first,
i've got to get through yet another other 'nother
all-damn-day-long appointment.
long-time clients keep reappearing, duders.
and they're hungry for the zip-zaps, too.
there must be some kind of treatment being administered,
by a carpenter or exterminator, i think;
why?
because the woodwork is definitely compromised, ya'll.
which is to say,
all the tattoo-cravin' crazies are comin' out of it.
not that it's a bad thing.
i'd rather be apesh!t bananas hard at work,
than just sitting around twiddlin' at job.
let it suffice that we agree some days OFF are in order.
i could use the recharge time.
and the tattoo action, as well, i suppose.
the albie rock lobster is so close to being done.
i can almost taste it.
almost.
i'm sayin',
i'm allergic to shellfish, and my tongue is itchin'.
could be the hot fire spit, though.
we'll find out wednesday.
i'm thinking about oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies.
why not, right?
the raisins are too much like sour grapes all by themselves.
i need that chocolicious chippery to kick it up past ten.
and maybe some powdered coconuttiness thrown in, too.
just to take it to eleven.
that's how it goes.
it's all really happening.
cookies,
tattoos,
weather.
it's a small world in the woodsly goodness.
but it's super-concentrated.
you don't need as much when it's really real, i guess.
it may be march,
but i'm still using dark brown sugar in my recipe, y'all.
history isn't gonna stop gettin' made after all;
never quiet, never soft.....