easy like...

my fingers look like bonsai tree roots.
F*n' gnarly.
that's the result of crimpity-crampity
crunched-up knuckles and tips.
i did too many tinyish tattoos in a row;
all those little zaps all day broke my sh!t.
ouch.
one hand has thick sausage swole-ups,
the other has rigid frigid fish-stick digits.
i'm on that boris karloff hand jive, ninjas.
now where's the ibuprofen at?
---
you know what i did even more than tattoo yesterday?
converse.
not the sneakers, dummy.
i'm talking about talking.
my lips aren't tired at all,
but i chatted-up all the mutha-uckas in the joint;
good times.
that is, until somebody i wasn't tattooing noticed
that i talk a whole lot about gay weiners,
(which is pretty much the truth, just not the whole truth)
and must not have figured out that i am obviously hilarious.
some people hear 'gay' and 'weiner',
and then just tune out the message.
she attempted some do-goodery in defense of good sense,
or good taste, or hard feelings, or some other diaper-babyhood.
as if i could stop even if i wanted to.
i'm like the accelerator on her crackery prius.
recognize.
my sh!t goes to eleven, y'heard?
hard styles, for sure.
everyone thinks they have a sense of humor,
even when they don't.
at any rate, she didn't seem to be too into it.
-go figure.
and right then, at that crucial juncture,
my employer mentioned i may
have been going just a little over-the-top.
(i did say OBVIOUSLY hilarious, yeah?)
...and then some other lady stuck up for me!
and had other mutha-b!tches agreeing, too.
that's no joking, either.
nice work baby.
good lookin' out for a ninja.
it makes me feel good, y'all,
knowing that really-real duders know what's up.
yes, i was yelling.
volume doesn't mean hostility.
yes, i was explicit.
details help avoid misunderstandings.
yes, i used the term 'congealed piss'.
oh c'mon. i should get a little credit for the vocabulary.
for the record:
i'm completely pro gay weiners.
and even all for inverted ones.
and vegetarian sausage.
you know what i'm sayin'.
***********
the snow is melting a little.
the temperature is above freezing, after all.
although just barely.
i've only got a half-day of work to do.
it's the second half, though.
which means the afternoon delights will
consist of tatzappin' and 'hood rappin',
and happy hot dog hullabaloo.
i do what i do,
and you know how i do it;
never quiet, never soft.....