spare ribs.

pooped-up skwackers,
geared-up weirdies,
biscotio bizarre-o's.
it's another 'nother full day at the tattoo shop.
and for the first time this week,
it's busy.
i've got a full day of zappin' on the schedule.
with ribs aplenty.
ribs, y'all.
burning hate-lasers shot straight out
of the devil's corkscrew weiner
directly into the short baby backs.
ouch.
duders gettin' doo-doo'ed by the ribbler zaps
get so mutha-flippin' sweaty, y'all.
beyond clammy, even.
straight up soggy.
and it's gross.
hopefully,
these kids'll want lots of straight lines
all up and along their xylophone bones.
good luck with that big business...
i don't DO straight lines, neighbors;
only gay ones.
awwwwwwwww, man.
and maybe a little bi-curious crooked one here and there, too.
and some blowouts, probably, too.
(those are super-gay. think about it)
ribs, ninjas.
***********
but,
there's just today and tomorrow ahead,
until the weekend of island magic starts.
martha's vineyard, duders.
crackery, y'all.
visits with my ace homeboy, the cucch.
(if he doesn't work the whole time)
don't worry,
it's supposed to rain the duration of our entire stay.
nice.
and it's cold out mostly, too.
plus,
my in-laws are attending as well.
that means best behavior time, all the time.
respect your elders, as long as they're not suckie ones.
jess' dad and his wife are decidedly NOT suckie.
respect.
word.
so,
to recap:
rainy cold island?
check.
friend with a crucial work schedule?
check.
parents present?
check.
and let's not forget what those license plates read,
island or not: 'assachussetts.
check and mate.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....