hey duders...
my days are full, and my nights are fuller.
i've been super slammed, hurtling headfirst towards the end of this sh!t-awful year,
and man-oh-man am i all kinds of beat up.
sleepless and scattered;
attenuated and attention deficient;
spread thin in way too many directions;
every single time, every single second, all at once.
did that stop me from getting rad on some buckwheat noodoo bowl?
c'mon.
don't be dumb.
check the regionally nonspecific asian one pot hottness teleport:
seitan and tofu?
so manly, sorta.
yeah, neighbors-
me and harvest and maple and my good buddy todd made sure to make
a minute or two in the margins to appreciate the little things we all like.
especially those delicious albie rock kitchen jauns.
we even did a little gift exchange thing, belatedly for XI-mas.
...and i got a new hat!
i think it suits me.
they all do, really:
my dirty grey dome stays really real,
like a mountain-man roustabout sherpa from the himalayan yeti caves, yo.
i rep a hard style.
**********
mutha-uckers,
it's a molto busy business i'm involved in,
a hold on to your hats and hold your horses last-ditch effort to run out the clock,
while running in place,
just so we can span some brand-spankin' new bigger better times by tomorrow.
of course, there's a ton of work to do,
and nowhere near enough time to do even half of it.
it's got to get done, and it will, but it will be a buzzer-beating photo finish, y'all.
the elements are aligned to usher in an age of expert activation-
but only if we can make it through the grand finale of this F*-festival of obligation
....and it's brutally windy.
awwwwwwww.
i hate wind.
so hard.
and yet,
the answers are blowing along unconcernedly on the gale-force gusts
of busted and disgustingly frigid arctic northerly air currents,
electrifying my frostbitten fingers and nose and lobes with charged particles
of wintry barbarian stormswept skylight and groundcover.
uh-huh.
there's snowdrifts and midriffs and exposed holes in the plans we've plotted
in spite of the secret universal superceders.
ummmmmmm.
that's the truth.
there's so much to do, and time is down to the last grains in the glass-
and it's like, four degrees, and that's before the wind chill.
so instead of breaking a sweat, breaking our necks and backs to bust a move,
we're taking a bitty-baby break,
huddled close by the roaring woodstove's cast-iron spitfire,
three quarters of a fully-formed family,
bonding over the absences, losses, routs, bouts, pouts, louts,
and infinitessimally small victories we've salvaged from the doo-doo butteriest
calendar's worth of collected days, weeks, and months on record to date.
it's called a recap, craphead,
and when your highlight reel resembles a blooper reel,
well,
it's time to learn something, start something, and do something.
2012 can suck all the balls that ever balled.
fact.
the worst year ever.........so far.
let's hope just this once,
the object is NOT more.
*
despite it all, friends,
i'm actually truly grateful for the time i have been given.
i mean,
the only thing worse than life
is death-
and a better fate than that awaits us anywhere;
never quiet, never soft.....
No comments:
Post a Comment