dangling hangers.

long nights,
hard times,
dark skies,
late dinners.
these days, kids,
there's a real lack of inspired awesomeness.
the future showed up,
and turned everybody into an A*hole.
y'heard?
back in the barbarian days,
if you didn't die,
you were pretty flippin' busy.
mostly trying not to die.
but that was enough.
nowadays,
it's instantaneous electronic convenience,
and remote-access pseudo-connectedness,
status updates and make-pretend unbelievability.
i don't know about all of y'all,
but i could totally go for some lightning-striking viking.
y'know,
running around with torches and sh!t,
testing the worthiness of the rest of 'em.
fixing to see who is fit enough to continue,
and flushing out the doo-doo buttery waterbabies who aren't.
showing gratitude and appreciation for What Is.
mostly by axe-warrior berserking all over the flippin' place.
setting fires,
pillaging,
sundering,
all that good stuff.
no raping, though.
that's just not cool.
i'll draw the line at some guilt-trip cuddling.
maybe some it's-been-awhile gettin' it done jauns,
but none of that non-consensual hard-style pounding.
uh-uh.
otherwise,
the raging stormswept savage gypsy fury,
and the over-the-top eleventh-level  participation
are kind of what i think i need.
anybody got a thatch-roofed village
full of well-provisioned peasants
and a gone-to-seed militia of poorly prepared pikemen?
anybody?
no?
ah well.
it's probably for the best.
i get tired pretty quickly,
and all that explosive interaction is kind of
too heavy on the socializing for me, anyway.
for the record, though,
if you don't want your simple village burnt down,
stop making your houses out of dry grass, dummies.
seriously, use your head.
***********
oh, man!
i got an aftermarket wiener today.
okay.
go ahead and reread that, duders.
i really did.
as a gift.
it's got a suction cup and everything.
relax,
it's for a special project,
and does NOT involve anyone's orifices.
jeez. you guys are so immature.
honestly, though,
i have the best clients in the whole wide world.
they really listen, neighbors.
and that's something these days.
i mean it.
just mentioning a konkey dong, and my need thereof,
in casual conversation with my comrades,
and then getting one, special-type delivery, the very next week?
c'mon.
that's a special bond, b!tches.
george and katie know how to make a mutha-'ucka feel special.
now,
in addition to the numerous other 'nother other adult-specific,
age-restricted novelty art and artifacts adorning my workspace,
i've also got a snuffleupagus sausage dangling on my mirror.
for some reason,
my clients don't or won't mention it.
it's like that 'elephant in the room' scenario...
..except with a huge, pink plastic pearlescent pop-outtie one, y'all.
i thought it'd be a real conversation starter,
but it's kinda having the opposite effect.
yeah.
i know.
i don't get it either.
i would be unable to comment on a swaying silicone salami
pointing straight out at my tattbomber's paper towels,
but i think i must attract a clientelle with uncommon restraint.
or somethin'.
the real fun starts once the upgrades get added on,
and the hang gets hung in out-of-the-way locations.
like a where's waldo of wieners an' that.
hilarity may or may not ensue.
***********
thor's day is over,
no pillaging at all,
but a couple of phonecalls
from some far off friends,
have fueled a pretty decent day.
well, that,
and the humongous wangus khan.
a couple of little gestures of affection,
and one pretty big one.
(that's what she said);
never quiet, never soft.....