bull shark

awwwwwwwww man.
it's rainin'.
it's monday.
i'm tatblastin' The Wiener Guy.
and,
i'm buying a football.
a real one.
y'know,
the round kind;
not a bastardized rugby lemon-oval.
uh-huh.
hexagonal panels and all of that.
oh c'mon, america, figure it out.
i'm talking about soccer.
like,
from when i was eleven.
and now,
i'm taking it
what do really real warriors need a footie for?
plaza soccer, kids. on the ones.
i'm sayin'.
sweaty nights of root beers and kickin' it about.
that's some throw-it-down back in the day sh!t.
if you weren't there, 
you have no idea.
this is as close as i get to reminiscing, neighbors.
we'll see how it goes.
step one: get a soccer ball.
step two: adidas sambas.
step three: root beer.
that's pretty much it,
besides a shopping plaza and a late night.
***********
it's too wet to go get rocks.
(they get slippery, son)
and ma nature already watered my garden.
looks like this monday is already ready already.
nice.
now,
once i get my manliness all collected in one place,
i can start sawing wood,
hammering nails,
and constructing straight structures.
yeah.
that's right.
buildin' sh!t.
like sheds and arbors and all that woodsly hottness.
the fortress is always the central space around which
many support structures spring up.
castle first,
city second.
Folk Life & Liberty.
and sheds.
and gardens.
and woodsly goodness.
i'm on it as it happens.
really;
never quiet, never soft.....