eleveneleveneleven.

eleven.
eleven.
ELEVEN.
yeah!
today is absolutely the day.
the big day.
the high holy day of worthy warrior poetry,
the super-sexy sabbath for lightning-striking vikings.
the wild hunt of the berserker barbarian battle-beasts!
11.11.11.
XI-XI-XI.
c'mon, neighbors,
it goes to eleven three times!
in a row!
for your face!!!
what-whaaat?!!
a mutha-flippin' triple EXPERT activation, mutha-F*ers!
excess is the name of the game today.
over-the-top indulgence in all forms of expertism.
one louder, one harder, one fresher, b!tchbags.

***********
we've got to celebrate!!
how about $11 for an XI tattoo?
i'm down for it, if you are...
i've got some weak sauce to emboss first,
but after i punish my audacious appointments,
we can hang out tonight and have a tattbomb party!
naturally, however, we should really take it to eleven:
sooooo,
how about free wiener tattoos?
no,
not ON your sausage, son-
a free tattoo OF a man-banana!
that's right,
one konkey dong of your choice,
on the house!
huh?
no, not daddy's house,
unless that's where you want it.
if you're around,
and you're ready,
it's all really happening!
today!
too much is the right amount.
three times over and back again!
it'll be a hundred years before that happens again.
true story, duders-
the calendar doesn't lie,
and it usually doesn't co-witness
with the european version either.
switch it up, flip the script, mirror image that jauns-
day/month, month/day,
it's eleven freakin' eleven;
and that's dope.
*********************************
(^3x the butthole dots!)
what about when the clock strikes 11:11?!
holy sh!t, my ninjas,
i'll be positively off my A* with caffeinated
stormswept raging gypsy thunder.
yuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
i'm drinking coffee today, kids.
that's next-level activation from the future, y'all.
dark roasted pitch black unfairly-traded tarwater,
with an extra shot or three of espresso....
freshly ground daily grindcore gastric guernica, guys.
if it doesn't hurt, it isn't worth it.
remember that.
the full moon begins to ebb tonight,
but not enough to dull the werewolfen blitzkrieg
of off-the-charts opulent gluttony and decadence.
kids,
when it's time to get busy,
it's time to get busy,
so get busy gettin' busy.
making moves, making mistakes, making the magic happen;
that's a triple threat custom-tailored to triple-eleven.
*
will there be spinal tap on tap and in stereo,
cranked up on amps that go past ten, all day long?
c'mon,
what are you?
an A*-hole?
of course we're gonna break like the wind, kids.
we're experts, after all.
today is the day.
i can't overstress that fact.
11-XI-eleven.
we go to there, friends,
and we're waiting for you;
never quiet, never soft.....XI