lucky thirteen.

hey duders,
it's the second half of fair week,
and i'm running out of things to stay interested in.
what?
really?
what are you?
an A*-hole?
no,
i'm not gonna stay home today.
in fact,
it's more likely i'm rolling deep through the fairground gates
with the worthy participants and nutrient-rich ninjas
of the Folk Life & Liberty Activation Society.
that's a thing.
eating falafels, shooting guns, getting expert,
and keeping it all so mutha-flippin' really-real
in the columbus-day tornado of peak-season tourist foliage
and rollicking weekend rural woodsly goodness.
the fair is dope!
i mean, i haven't totally lost all interest-
and yes,
i still like bunnies an' sh!t;
yes,
i still think giant runny piles of crap everywhere is funny;
and also yes,
i like being able to navigate across crowded expanses
full of good and bad noises and better and worse smells...
but mostly?
uh-huh.
it's all about those fattie-boombattie falafel blops.
neighbors,
how much do i love to get obsessively complusive with it?
so much that i repped it after work, in the rain,
by my all-alonesome, sitting silently,
stuffing sandwiches down deep by the shark-biteful.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, man!
i doo-doo that alone in a crowd sort of stuff,
like a bedraggled, soggy sad sack of sauce, son.
check the teleport:

yuuuuuuuup.
worth every single sopping second of sitting there.
and much like every other thing i get into,
i'm quickly developing an aptitude for aggravated injury.
c'mon.
i'm amping up the faceburning lip-melting experience
with even more habanero hate-crime salsa.
yeah.
too much, kids.
and that's just where i start from.
*
i also repped some waaaaay-too-tight-of-pants-type
walking about and talking it out.
yep.
like a little baby deer faun jauns, y'all.
i couldn't figure out at first why all the supernecks were
giving me such a wide berth.
i had the run of the promenade, ninjas.
apparently, skin-tight skinnies are like a contagious strain
of just-be-dopeness.
look out!
you could catch a case of hard-style hottness from legs this lanky.
personal flavor, and chick pea flavor, and very hot sauce flavor.
thirteen falafels, so far,
and today is seriously the day, duders.
feel awful falafel friday.
that's real.
it's on.
awesome, full, and finally awful,
in three easy steps,
and three greasy sittings.
there's thunder needing bringing, kids.
we're all about it.
too much is the starting point,
too far is where we're taking it,
too soon is when it's happening;
never quiet, never soft.....