smash hits.

all i've got is true stories.
i'm sorry, my ninjas.
i mean,
wouldn't it be great to talk about lofty artistic ideas instead?
with pictures of the creative process an' that?
maybe.
y'know,
like if i only told stories about creation and inspiration,
and how i find it in common things,
which, through the artistic interpretation of creativity,
magically transforms them into something uncommon...
yeah.
if you're into that kind of creative writing,
try THIS sexy tidbit of reality on for size:
i think i fell asleep while it was still light outside, yesterday.
it's that sorta slightly solstice sunbeam stuff.
it takes forever and ever to get dark,
and i'm tired, duders.
loud pipes save lives, spend sleep,
and invest every morning and afternoon with hard-style handling.
handles, bars, handlebars, and sadlebags.
i don't get it.
nor do i get much sleep.
there is, after all, only this time we've been given.
i'd hate to have to try and watch it from behind the scenes,
or worse, from behind my eyelids.
i mean, it's all really happening:
long nights, hard times, hot fire, lightning, all of it.
it's just that i need some rest.
not beauty sleep or anything that doo-doo buttery.
we all know that being ugly is pretty dope.
that's the rules, even.
if you're busted-up-looking, y'all'd better bring the thunder
with some confidence, competence, and capability.
that's the worthy warrior way.
hairy, scary, barely bare-bones bearish, and very necessary.
that's criteria, mutha-b!tches;
and we've got them jauns.
if i slept too soon last night,
then it's clearly a stay-up-all-night kind of style i've got to rep tonight.
hot fire, kids.
maybe some stumps.
maybe some company.
it's a small world up here,
but a pretty big life.
it's the content that's lacking,
not the scale;
there will be tattoos.
there will be bikers.
there will be lunch.
like i said,
it's all really happening-
try to contain your effulgently effusive enthusiasm.
c'mon, vinny vocab- look 'em up;
never quiet, never soft.....