good evening.

sometimes,
i see my friends.
sometimes,
 i make new friends.
and sometimes,
clients become friends.
that's the weird one.
especially when it's go-out-to-dinner time,
and the guest of honor is a former weirdie.
yep.
the weirdies, a trio of bizarre, yet regular tattoo clients,
has been defunct for a few years.
one stayed super-weird,
one went and got married,
and one kept it really real,
and kept making the sojourn to our crummy, crumby
white mountainous woodsly tatzap town.
and now, at long last, the quarantine is over.
our friend amanda has made the grade,
and been promoted to meal-sharing status.
that's right.
so take heart, lurky jerks;
if you doo-doo what you doo-doo for long enough,
you too can hang out with the warrior poets.
i know.
believe me, i know.
dreams really can come true.
especially if they're suckie ones.
word.
brown blops of indian goodness,
with spicy curry crushing it's way to my face,
via my throat,
via my stomach,
and vice versa.
yeah!
ferocious is the perfect adjective
for everything going on gastrically at the moment.
***********
lightning striking viking.
uh-huh.
january is pretty much done.
already.
the dregs are crowding up the bottom of the barrel,
and the crap is coalescing at the cusp of the cask.
silt, soot, and slag, y'all.
that's what's left after a barbarian blitzkrieg blows by.
the wind is blowing,
the skies are moving.
heaven is crashing closer to the ground.
electricity, ninjas.
static and dynamic simultaneously.
rubbin', thrummin',
throbbin', movin'.
this is the time we have,
these are the places we go,
and we are all together.
on est ensemble;
never quiet, never soft.....