...big deal.
a phone call, or two.
that's it.
and then it's all done.
at least no one got me the standard conciliatory necktie.
those cost money, after all.
and i'm pretty sure my not-yet-double-digits daughters
are still too small for gainful employment.
don't get me wrong here,
NO TIE is way better than anything 'thoughtful'...
the absolute worst?
the poem card.
nothing says 'i never loved you' more than a poetic hallmark jammer.
even if (especially if?) you underline the really 'heartfelt' parts...
father's day can suckle it.
i mean,
duders, i'm working on some tattzy-blasto' fury today.
just like every day.
no mowed lawns,
no budweiser for breakfast,
no family fun all-day miniature golfing,
...nuthin'.
father's day is finished already,
and it has been since 8a.m.
it's really more like father's quarter-hour.
yeah,
real nice.
i'm just sayin',
it's not like there's a big call out there for a dad's day brunch.
besides,
brunch is a commodity only for weak-sauce indecisionaries.
i don't want compromise, my ninjas,
i want breakfast AND lunch.
that's true-life roots-radical shark gluttony.
recognize.
and since drinking,
sports,
motorcycles,
and meat are all Off The List,
it looks like it's to be just another 'nother
bloody sunday for the berserker barbarian crowd.
awwwwww, man.
***********
what's the bright and shiny silver lining in today's weak-sorcery?
i'm only fifteen feet away from this:
it always comes down to buttholes.
directly, indirectly, discreetly, and otherwise.
father's day?
suckle it.
butthole's day?!
heck yeah!
that's every day;
never quiet, never soft.....
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