werewolf.

that moon up there is bright, kids.
uh-huh.
it's a nearly daylight caliber shiner
keeping me up, and keeping me salty.
what unsavory salt cellar-dweller could have that effect
on a warrior poet of heroically insensitive propensities?
how about skin-rip american flagmeat eagle tatt-'sploso-bombs?
yuuuuuuuuuup.
i did that so hard first thing yesterday.
....or how about maybe some black spikes of triiiiiiiiibal?
wordimus prime, b!tches-
my broke-A* stayed late to activate those jauns.
full moons and empty pockets make for hard styles.
and while on the subject of hard styles,
neighbors,
check the teleport:

werewolf!
i don't know, y'all.
it's not a goat.
i'm not sorry, either.
there might be little ogre-type sh!t mixed in with the nutrients.
that underbite action an' that, y'heard?
yep.
full moon fever,
in full effect.
***********
huh?
c'mon.
and what about the laundry robobots?
they're dope.
it doesn't take a whole holy helluva lot
to get the experts excited up in the woodsly goodness.
obviously,
if washers and dryers doo-doo it,
then we're easily impressed by the futuristic technology
of space magic soapy superwet hottness and cherry-red
noise-makin' high efficiency.
y'know what that means, ninjas?
uh-huh-
cleanest undies ever, mutha-'uckas.
my butt is currently clad in luxurious laundered lavishness.
that's a thing.
*
the moonbeams and space rays are intense.
the long nights and late hours are intense.
the XI-mas activation consumer frenzy?
yeah...intense.
the gaping hole in my house is intense.
the wolfen wild hunt barbarian business is intense.
that's it, buddy.
intensity is the order of the day.
every single thing in the woodsly realm
is currently maxed out,
y'know, red-lined at eleven.
life is hard.
and loud and fresh, too.
and it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....