you know i love 'em.
seriously,
i can't get enough.
they've gotta be clunky dorkbots, though.
no slick streamlined spaceship sh!t.
that's weak sauce, for sure.
i need that steam-powered bucket-o'-bolts jauns.
that's what's up.
we're surviving the savage stormswept wetness,
and our washed-away roadway,
and all the otherwise non-incidental drizzles
of a regular old rainstorm, disguised (hyped)
as a horrifying hurricane of harm and hazard.
serious safety measures seem excessive in this instance.
and here i was kind of looking forward to
a barbaric blackout of rough usage and hard times.
awwwwww.
neighbors,
maybe we'll just turn the lights off,
light some candles,
and the (aptly named) hurricane lanterns,
and camp out in the sunroom.....
but not until my science-experiment art party
is over and done with.
huh?
why else would i mention robobotronics?
duders,
i've been doodling.
for real.
not that i'm gettin' F*-all accomplished by doo-dooing it,
but there is bobot-building arthur makeyness
underway in the woodsly goodness.
yuuuuuuuup:
hard-headed,
hard-pounding...
...from the future, my ninjas.
that there is a self-contained dildoid tentaculator.
right?
you know it.
i think i'll have to lop off one of it's legs, though.
then,
it'll be an eleven-limbed construct,
and therefore just a little bit more expert....
***********
when the weather outside is supposed to be scary,
the rednecks come out in force.
pickup trucks and loggin' boots, kids.
if you weren't wearin' 'em,
you didn't come into white mountain tattoo today,
that's for sure.
i mean,
i was there, too,
in my usual sunday best,
drawing 'bots.
and watching the water levels rise.
it's all happening,
even when it's not quite the master disasterpiece
one might've been hoping for.
the hard rain sounds pretty soothing on the roof.
pittering, pattering, and splattering,
as the juice pours out of the sky,
and permeates the entirety of our delighted earth;
never quiet, never soft.....
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