boomin' bloomer-cakes.

the secret universal plan has clearly got a sense of humor.
i mean,
just days ago, i was lamenting the presence
of a preposterous preponderance of pork-parts
in my immediate facial zone.
remember?
tattbombing on the human sausage explosion?
well,
i guess the world of spirits and memories
was attuned to the frequency on which i griped
about the frequency of a faceful of flaccid flounder,
because i got my comeuppance today.
huh?
yeah.
a great big batch of well-seasoned old lady butt.
full moon fever, even, after the fact.
that's what's up.
you ninjas know i've got the trust and confidence
of all the boomin' grannies and their bass-boosted
all-beef burger buns.
i'm serious, son.
cheeks for weeks,
all over the place...
if, by all 'over the place' you mean:
right in front of my face!
ka-pow!
we get busy like that in the woodsly goodness, neighbors.
a cute little tat-sapped angel of mercy,
mercilessly carved on a badonkadonkey-kong barrel.
oh, c;mon.
you like it.
what?
yuuuup. me too.
***********
monday night is a pretty big deal up here, duders.
it's the start of the weekend.
which means i've got 48 hours of awesomeness
hurtling down the mountains like an avalanche of rad..
two full days of worthy summer funtimes,
in a row.
with no workday doo-doo butter to smear it up, either.
i'm so excited, i can barely contain myself.
and neither can these mutha-flippin' wild bears.
that's right.
it's as if they really want to become rugs,
and will settle for nothing less than
large-caliber holes in their hides.
just sayin',
these ninjas are pressing their luck.
they're undertaking an extraordinary effort
to try and coerce our super-smart canine companion
fire herself out of the window (facefirst through the glass)
in a batsh!t crazy frenzy of slobber and savagery,
lacerations and bone-crushing bie and claw-type battle.
you guessed it-
the friendly neighborhood fuzzy-wuzzy is back
at the smorgasbord buffet in our unproductive compost pile.
again.
and nothing gives me a harder heart-attack than the sound of
spontaneous animal attack aggravation
and it's attending rabid racket.
it's pretty much what makes my whole sense of self fall off.
i hate it like a sickness of septic sonic suckiness.
in my ears, through my brain, and out my scalp.
you guys know how we get it started-
furious fighting and heroic wartorn animal combat,
that's the good stuff.
*
tonight's the night.
today was the day.
it's a recurring theme around here.
the unfolding sameness of important minutes.
the ones we're spanning right now.
thunder, lightning, sweaty temperatures,
all of it is part of the big action.
and you wouldn't wan't to miss out on that, would you?
of course not.
every perspiring aspiration for this evening,
every humid heartbeat til tomorrow, too.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....