double-destroyer.

it isn't raining.

and it's an hour earlier than i'm used to getting out of bed.
-like the natural order of things has been turned inside out.
there's daylight, but not quite sunlight,
and the only dew-dew buttery moisture on the ground
is the half-inch thick layer of frost on everything.
dew-dew.
c'mon.
still, despite the deep freeze dawn's earliest,
the semi-actual early rising for unsexy still-live bird/worm scenarios
has got me up and at them like a champ.
or maybe it was the positive reiki vibes......?
***********
soooo,
a pair of my best and most favoritest clients
came up for the whole day in the woodsly goodness.
i tattooed my buddy gina for her birthday,
and afterwards i got a present.
a digit-repairing, palm-calming, wrist-soothing hand massage.
for those of you who know about the stand-up steadfast
standoffishness that i hold to so dearly,
the less-than-arm's-length physical contact
may seem slightly out of character.
but, after six straight hours of grinding,
my gorilla paws were severely strained.
eentsy-meentsy little details, y'all.
you'd think i'd stop doing that to myself....
but i choose the wrench, ninjas.
every time.
here's just a little taste:

see that little bit of sweet boob action?

yep.
you just get a little bit of the treats.
i zapped it up all flippin' day.
...and it's a cover-up.
...and i kept adding little uber-tight 3 liner bits of action to it, too.
that whole head is only like 2 inches wide.
(that's what she said?)
that means your screenshot is probably bigger than actual size.
and that's why i let my mitt get massaged and (wo)man-handled.
truth is,
it doesn't feel as bowstring-taut and ouchy as usual this morning.
we'll count that as a victory.
***********
it's 11-7.
or 7-11, for all y'all from everywhere but here.
either way,
it's craps.
there's a hot and sweaty batch of
belligerently un-tastic on the menu for my A* today.
oh, craps.
a total bust-out, even.
but,
i do what i do regardless.
the only forseeable outcome?
G.S.M.
Gimme S'Money.
you know this, duders.
tighten it up with the wrench,
turn it clockwise,
to eleven,
and bring the sunday, bloody sunday-type styles.
hard. loud. and fresh.
for your sunuvab!tchin' miki-lickin' face;
never quiet, never soft.....