Tuesday, January 31

a prurient protagonist.

salacious subjectivity?
yep.
lascivious locution?
sure.
competent communication takes a backseat
to backdoor banter.
yeah.
i know,
i said backdoor...
it's all about that peepee wiener talk, my ninjas.
sometimes,
and by that i mean always,
it's the most bestest way to span an un-day off.
if i've got to get busy on some extra work
tattbombing and accomodating duders who
need to get some of what i've got,
then i'll be gosh-danged if we're going to talk about
anything of any semblance of serious substance.
word up.
inane interjections and asinine assertions are all there is.
you want the sagacious salubricity?
come see me during normal business hours, kids.
wisdom is not for days away from the grind.
believe that.
we save the nsfw work for days at work when we're
supposed to be elsewhere.
doo-dooing the don'ts, i think they call that.
whatever the label,
it's how this whole day got spanned.
hard.
five hours without pauses,
marathon motormouth mania about orifices, even.
it's a hard style,
but if not one for worthy warrior wordsmiths,
then who?
exactly.
***********
january is on it's last gasp.
and it's F*ing snowing.
all day.
no sun.
only white crystals of cold,
coating the entirety of the woodsly goodness.
that's fine, neighbors.
ma nature can activate all the white blanketry
she wants to rain down upon us,
tomorrow is still black history month.
boo-ya, b!tches.
it's time to get really real;
never quiet, never soft.....

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