tent sale.

what?
who is that buying sports shorts?
yours truly, ninjas.
what the mother-F* has happened to me?!
i mean,
i've got a serious stack of to-do doo-doo,
and an alarming heap of art-making hottness
waiting to get inked. etched, and otherwise activated,
but,
there's saltwater-dripping electrolyte-sapping
sweat equity to invest into,
and self-destruction to set off before any of that
big business can get started.
that begins with fashionable male outfits an' that.
followed by physical punishment in the form of fitness
under the auspices of, and the purposes of self-improvement!
yuuup.
i am breaking into itty-bitty bits of cracked bone;
leaking marrow from the taproot of each calcified bludgeon,
a sap-sloughing skeleton of shattered
chipped, chapped, torn, pulled, splintered, sprained, pained,
and in most other ways engaged in active participation.
life is pain, kids.
and it has to hurt, if it's to heal.
that's pretty much a real thing-
just sayin',
my knobby leg hinges may be old and busted,
but until they fall off or stop bending,
it's time to kick balls an' sh!t.
no,
i will NOT act my age.
sure,
i'll see to the trappings and snares of responsible adulthood,
but i will also engage in extruded and exuded, semi-deluded
youthful exuberances and excesses of werewolfen warrior-type
full-contact conflict, calamity, and cacophony...
...and then ice the hell out of my bruised and battered body
pretty much immediately afterwards.
that's it.
slowly attenuating my tendons,
attending the events which constitute dynamic tension.
and as always, i will apply a copious dose of ancient wisdom.
yep.
wisdom, neighbors.
that's the secret ingredient-
information and experience,
processed and disregarded in equal parts,
to create the optimum blended batch of composed chaos.
poise and poison, mutha-b!tches.
i doo-doo that.
*
sprankles?
obviously:

big deal.
yummy yummy,
blah blah blah.
*
downcast eyes,
overcast skies.
it's all really happening.
and i hope it stays dark forever,
stoopidheads;
never quiet, never soft.....