tea time.

tea for two?
c'mon.
that's not real.
i've got a whole body full of broken
that needs some steep steeped leafy blackness.
i'm cold.
it's not cold outside, either.
i'm cold, on the inside.
i'm no doctor, duders,
but it would seem that no sleep, little food,
physical exertion and trauma all add up
to a big batch of old busted jauns.
i need some of the wet hottness to infuse this
weak sauce with some spicy hot fire from the future.
...or some irish breakfast tea.
whichever.
i got tatzapped at tsunami tattoo yesterday, neighbors.
and i fell asleep on the table, too.
that's tiredness, not toughness, for the record.
check the teleport for a small portion of the progress:

i've got crabs.
and copper kettle tea time activation for my knee.
the whole thing wraps around my leg
and up to my cute little buttcheek.
yep. that happened.
it all happened.
it still is, too.
i force-fed my face some green elephant vegan dopeness.
it tasted just like scorched F*ing earth.
just like every other thing i've shoved down my gullet
these past few weeks.
but, i had to load up on nutrients,
because soccer happens on wednesdays, kids!
what am i?
an athlete?
well,
i did show up at the field yesterday,
post tattbomb session-
and i also pulled muscles in both legs.
awwwwwwwww, MAN!!
lame... literally.
that's a helluva hard style, y'all.
i can hardly walk right,
and my sexy new cleats did nothin' to stop it, either.
i guess i forget how old i actually, chronologically am,
and how little exertion i exhorted from my frame this last decade.
probably because of my puerile personality, right?
i'm still a snarky pr!ck, but i'm an OLD snarky pr!ck.
how did i miss that?
the fleeting, fleeing grey hairs should've reminded me, i suppose.
oh, well.
nothing like a little humiliating injury to reaffirm
my faith in the idea that hurting the team
is exclusively the province of beating yourself, first.
i doo-doo that.
***********
the raging stormswept savage berserker fury
is out in full category 5 hurricane force these days, duders.
a battle-beastly pre-full moon monstrous mien from
the confines of my mind to the secret universal plan 's
people, places, and things;
i guess i've been bottling up a bit of that brutal truthfulness.
i've got an everlasting bag of holding, full to bursting
with limit-stretching past-capacity, standing room only
wild, untamed, werewolfen animal ferocity.
it's hard to hold in the hard-hearted styles every minute.
but, i've had years of practice.
it takes a lot of effort, energy, and maintenance...
you want to know my secret?
i'm always angry;
never quiet, never soft.....