Friday, December 7

the good earth.

pearl harbor?
infamous.
pearl necklace?
scandalous.
pearl s. buck?
expert.
yeah, duders,
it's a 'the good earth' kind of day.
hard styles, hard times, cold nights, long days, and hard hearts.
all the ingredients for a pearl-themed party time for our faces.
the land, the ladies, the division of assets and the halfway decent tribute
to apirit, memory, effort, and participation that comes with a love of the land.
that's that woodsly goodsly hottness, kids.
real talk.
and as the secret universal choose-your-own-adventure unfolds,
i'll be doing my best to avoid any steinbeck messiness while it all really happens.
c'mon.
'the pearl'?
you don't know it?
it's more of all of the worst of everything, all at once, but with fewer pages...
sorry, neighbors-
i'm a reader,
and that doesn't always translate well within these written transmissions.
haha.
i'm as into that little plot twist as you are, believe me.
anyway,
today is the day.
huh?
oh, indeed, it is the worst day,
but only because berfdays always are.
did i just say berfdays?
yes. i did. that's correct.
today really is the day-
the guru of supreme intelligence turns older than ever today.
that's right.
my dad.
the original warrior poet.
the ultimate berserker barbarian.
celebrates a sh!t-salad sexagenarian +3-type milestone.
yep.
and somewhat anticlimactically,
he'll be spanning it at the hospital,
reacting to a pearl harbor kamikaze zero divebomb
of bad news and brutal truths,
not to mention tumors the size of citrus fruits.
awwwwwwwwwwwww, man!!!!
it's never easy, ninjas.
but opting for the full diagnostic instead of cake?
that's some serious wrench-choosing jauns.
...and now you know where i get it from.
happy birthday to the dude.
for serious.
as unlikely as it promises to be,
i'm holding out hope,
and sending out some smoke-rings of sentiment that today is full of good news,
and better times,
and the start of something good;
never quiet, never soft.....

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