Saturday, August 11

it's all too much.

holy smokes.
there's never enough time,
every time.
that's a real thing.
temporal distortion,
and the lasting lag effect of overdoing it
in every aspect of every day.
overbooked and undercompensated and
poorly scheduled,
six hours of every day are jam packed with
a whack attack of smeared up sh!t-salad
stuffed into hand-cramping, arm-swelling
weak sauce waterbabys' wants and needs.
tattbombing is tough when you've got two
kids trying and vying for expert family togetherness.
trust me on this one.
divided attentions and attenuated intentions don't
make for a smooth day of zipzappin',
or a calm mannered demeanor with daughters.
i think i actually just get meaner.
c'mon.
neighbors,
it's been a rained-on drain on my temperment,
and the temerity and tenacity with which i interact
with the narrow world of the woodsly goodness has been
stretched to the point of snappish sniping and the usually
snarky sarcasm has devolved into a mean-spirited poltergeist
of ponderously puissant unpleasantries.
awwwwwwwww.
basically,
for those of you who don't get it-
it sucks outside,
my kids have to hang out at the tattbomb studio,
and my appointmennts are beat,
so we're all cranky as F*!
hooray for august vacation activation!!!
(boooooo)
*
i did eat some pie, though, yo.
peach melba-type,
with rasping razzle-dazzle berries to turn it bloody
on the inside,
complimenting that flaky vegan sexy time on the outer layers
like a dreamy dessert for my whole entire face!
teleport:
i don't even remember eating that.
no jokes.
i think it was probably delicious.
it looks it, anyway.
we'll go with that.
duders,
the overlaps, underlying undermines, and interlaced
interferences of this weird week have crossed lines,
wires, hairs, and eyes,
and the resultant jumble of hours has been a
sleepless, heavy-lidded, thick-lipped slurring slurry
of furious flurried behaviors and barely-present business.
however,
if the rain goes away,
there will be bread AND puppets, tomorrow.
what's the last thing left to cross?
y'know?
yuuuuup.
our fingers.
doo-doo that;
never quiet, never soft.....

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