homophones and heterographs.

i'm on that mettle detector sh!t.
you know it.
taking a look, a try-'n' find of sorts,
into what kind of duders y'all are...
i'm looking for the worthy warrior spirits,
the poetic smoke rings on lightning-struck viking virtue,
the heartbeats and wardrums of barbarian beastliness.
where my real ninjas at?
i'm sayin', son-
i've got a scathing, searching, seeking second-sight,
and i'm using it to locate the constant-conflict diamonds
out here in all this rough.
that's real.
it's yet another 'nother weekend weak end.
the bikers have flooded in en masse,
and they all want non-appointment, last-minute,
i'm onlyherefortodayandcanonlydoitrightnow,
walk-in sh!t-salad tatzapping.
but,
there's not enough time to doo-doo all their lame doodoo.
we're on a mission, kids.
a secret mission.
with good intentions and totally gaytarded destinations.
so those self-centered suckholes will
have to get blasted by someone else.
so they kind of lose, even if they get what they want.
mettle detectors,
coupled with the black-ops danger sense
of a perceptive participant and professional appreciator
of What Is.
right now, these dudes up here?
lacking.
F-.
they're repping that medal detector jauns....
you know, finding ways to win.
they here to show off, blowhard, and suck hard, too.
podium posturers and poseurs for place-markers.
credit-seekers, and recognition gorgers.
entitlement-exuders.
the worst butterflies of the bunch.
non-participants, y'all.......
but, instead, competitors.
winning isn't everything,
unless at real life living you actually lose.
these awful A*-holes are ALL crowding
the top tier of ascerbic accolade advancement.
just be dope?
nope.
they must not know about what's good.
metal detectors?
i GOT they.
not the disk on a stick looking for loose change,
but the hessian aggression session obsession
that never lessens the lessons.
yuuuuuuup.
metal.
heavy-style.
sometimes, you need it.
other times,
you just have to have it.
metal duders love swords and axes.
that's a thing.
and that thing is rad.
i'm just sayin',
there are situationally-appropriate sounds for
blitzkrieg road-trip secret missions to
buttery butthole locations for anathematic activities.
what are they?
yuuuuuuuuup.
metal.
word
but first,
i've got to deal with a whole other kind of detection.
uh-huh.
interpersonal interference, neighbors.
you know the type-
those mutha-lickers who constantly have
imaginary arguments?
facebook fights?
all while averring that they hate drama?
they must mean theater, i guess.
c'mon.
gossip-mongers and turd-stirring scandalous
somethin'-somethin'-starters-
they're not invited, y'all.
i have finely tuned and super-honed
my meddle detectors.
affirmative, kids.
keep stirring that pot,
but know i'm not eating what's being served.
i can't hang out with that noise.
didja hear?
nope. i didn't. and i don't want to.
meddlers, my ninjas.
uh-uh.
***********
heterographics, duders.
sound-alike A-alike energetics.
wordimus prime.
tonight,
we're on that road-trip warrior sauce.
tomorrow,
BIG action, to eleven, and beyond.
father's day?
a day for men who made small versions of themselves?
i fit the description.
it's happening;
never quiet, never soft.....