board? to tears.

yuuuuuuup.
another 'nother night spent speaking with
the youth about the truth, neighbors.
i doo-doo that oratorial congregating-type
out-loud, hard style, fresh spoken wordimus prime sh!t.
uh-huh.
after a day of copious tattbombing,
blasting those bits of body into beautified bloody 'brasions,
it was time to activate.
that's real.
tradition dictates that every summer i have 'a thing'.
this year?
you know it, my ninjas.
these past few weeks of actively participating in the
Life Is Pain pit of despair affairs of the heart
have seen one thing consistently appear throughout
the days and nights of slim pickings and smaller waistlines.
and the top marks are awarded for the tinkling topping
that pot-o'-golds the whole of thosecold scooples
with expert rainbow nutrients.
what else is there?
i get lively with those lovely little sweet'uns on my sorbet.
it's the summer of spranks, son.
...and sunbathing, and soccer-
but mostly?
it's those treats-enhancers atop my cups and cones, kids.
*
sprankles are good,
but good friends are better.
and when it comes to friends?
believe it-
my duders get busy;
...or else i wouldn't like them, obviously.
is that mean?
i couldn't tell you.
i know it's true, though.
that's the prime directive for Folk Life friendship
and warrior interaction, and it always has been-
just be dope,
or F* right off,
y'heard?
thatcher gets wood.
and he works it.
yeah!
i swear that's true.
when it comes to gratitude and generosity,
he's got 'em.
check the teleport,
and recognize how much better my bread is about to taste:

woooooooord.
that's handmade, fool.
super-fancy, and totally rad.
rare, exotic and common woods,
from the forests of the future, an' that.
strips of sexiness, striping that slab,
like a rainbow of timber-type fashionable functionality.
utilitarian art?
daddy has to have it.
setting up the scene for a dismemberment plan.
crust and crumb are about to get cut the F* up, kids.
i admit it.
i am fortunate, even at my least fortunate.
*
i did get spranks, too:

c'mon.
i mean, what am i?
an A*-hole?
you know better.
***********
it's my weekend.
today's the last day of work for a few.
and i'm closing out my tour with two of the duders
who punish me with poor decisions they've
previously made, and appointed me the improvement
planner in charge of damage control.
but wait,
does that mean i've got a day off tomorrow?
...kinda.
i'm headed downstate,
and into the weak-sauce sluice of asscrackachussetts,
to make an all-important pick-up.
the eagle has landed, and it has laid eggs.
it's past time, y'all.
harvest and maple are coming back up here,
to exactly where we three belong.
the woodsly goodness,
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
right in this very spot,
together,
as a mutha-flippin' family.
i need it, they need it,
you like it.
i am grateful for the time have been given,
and the good people who span it alongside me;
never quiet, never soft.....