c'mon...

snow.
that's correct.
happy spring mutha-uckas.
right out of the sky,
a drifting sifting of sucktacular snowfall.
naturally,
since we can finally see the soil,
ma nature wants to stay a mite more modest
for another mini-minute or two this march...
and so we're blanket wrapping our whole faces off
with some more winter weather.
mountain living keeeps it pretty real.
real life rural season changes, neighbors.
they move slow, like syrup....
and speaking of:

panniecakes,
with homemade slow-simmered maple syrup
courtesy of mr. wayne morris.

yep.
that's how we take the fight to the frontlines
of frosty F*tarded weather and woodsly worsting...
worsting?
uh-huh.
like wool.
yes, my ninjas, wool-
(vegan elitists cringe in unison, i'm sure)
worsting makes it doper.
maybe that's why i take such perverse pleasure in adverse conditions.
hard-style hard times introduce you to the real you.
so when the nights seem especially long (supermoon, anyone?)
and time seems to take forever and tick by too fast in the same moment,
i want in on some of that super-seasoned worthy warrior worsting.
which is unlike wursts...
which are sausages...
which are like rectangular pizza...
which is to say:
nasty.
(fact)
what i'm sayin',
beyond the relative worstness of meat-tubes and angle-edged pizza,
is that sometimes the worst is the best.
that's kinda how i'm livin'.
wordimus prime;
never quiet, never soft.....