days off!

the weak end of the week has passed.
that means two whole days of dopeness,
with a concentrated culmination of
family funtime togetherness magic.
and it's about time, duders.
kids and tattoo studios don't mix well.
it's just not that fun to hang out all day.
i mean,
i get paid to be there,
and i don't like it either.
but that's the past, neighbors.
the right now?
yuuuuuuuup.
stayin' up late,
hangin' outside,
watchin' giant barn spiders eat big-A* bugs.
ugh.
an enormous eight-legged araneae has taken up
a temporary smorgasbord position near our kitchen.
right outside our window,
within the glowing allure of our lights.
...smart.
every bug that buzzes by to bask in the unattainable
luminescence gets snaggled up in the parachute-sized
invisible glue ropes she's woven around the approach.
i'd take a picture,
but there's no flippin' way i'm getting within arm's reach.
even with the glass between us, y'all,
i'm still a little tiny bit goosebumpy about her decision
to hunt hors d'oeuvres within my line of sight.
and yet i can't look away,
mostly for fear she'll teleport into my beard.
self-face-punch nightmares will commence upon r.e.m.
fact.
***********
so,
americanism,
as an inaccurate interchangeable term for capitalism,
seems to have really left a sudden, clearly forseeable,
scandalous hot sh!t-salad skidmark on
on the world stage.
it's really happening.
i'm sure all the other other 'preparers' out there
are canning food,
stockpiling fuel,
and loading clips.
but that's what they'd be doing anyway.
now they just feel vindicated.
anybody surprised by the slapstick slapshot
of mismanaged markets, and eternal wars,
and do-goodery, and weak-sauce sorcery?
slippery slopes,
and calamitous cliffs,
and disastrous futures.
it might be what's up.
beans, bullets, and band-aids, b!tches...
the Folk Life commodities, y'all.
who's investing?;
never quiet, never soft.....