civil unrest.

duders,
it's mlkj day.
well, it is almost everywhere else, anyway.
but not up here in the very white mountains, kids.
no way, not once, not ever.
i don't get it, either, but it's true.
these ninjas can't hang out with giving propers to any one black guy,
no matter what dreams he had.
yeah.
instead, it's civil rights day here in new hampshire.
awwwww.
everybody gets the same amount i suppose,
but it sure doesn't feel like it when compared to all the other places
that aren't quite so monoculturally inclined.
whatever, though, y'all-
nobody refuses a day off, right?
so call it whatever you want, and enjoy that three day weekend jauns.
just don't expect these honky-A* crackers to get with the lingo, yo.
*
i'm home alone again.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is getting used to being a sole proprietorship.
a man's home, neighbors, is surely his castle.
and that's that absolute sovereignty-type sh!t, y'know?
i'm pretty sure it's a real thing.
i'd like to believe that my edicts are the absolute law of the land
within the liberated terrible territrory i call home,
but i will admit it's hard to be a benevolent dictator when you live with someone
who doesn't share the same sentient sentiment.
yeah.
it's been a F* of a year, kids-
and all of a sudden, after a whole long dark cold dismal stretch
of hard-styles cold beds and heavy hearts,
the cherchez la femme fatality of berserker besieging seizure from within,
and the beset-on-all-sides sh!t-salad sapper sandwich is all almost all over.
for serious.
the next three days are just a petulant precursor
to the next three hundred and forty somethin'.
a Fortress of solitude, son, plus one dumb dog, is where we're headed.
i'm not ready, nor am i especially willing,
but i bow to the unyielding infinite nature of the secret universal plan.
damn.
every day, over and over, and it's never actually ever over.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....