making wishes.

you gotta have cake on your berfday.
that's real.
because without candles to huff and puff and big bad werewolf-style
blow out the hot fiery exhalations of extinguishing goodness,
how else could you get to make an extra special once-a-year wish?
c'mon.
you know the rules.
you sing the song, you make the face, you close your eyes,
and then you send a silent secret message into the aura around you or whatever.
it's a thing.
this year,
i had single serving cups of really rad expert homemade magic, neighbors.
it's true.
check the teleport:

sexy sunovab!tchin' berserker berfday cakes!
triple vanilla bean, whole-grain, quad-sugar sweetened, pudding-in-the-mix,
double-moist, from scratch batches of barbarian baked greats.
yeah!
with cocoa and chocolate activated cinnamaple frosting, and multiple sprankles.
because i only have an interest in gettin' fresh waaaaay off the charts,
to eleven.
recognize.
i had to make my own battery bakery business, friends.
and, damn!, that's depressing.
i mean,
on the one hand,
that means they surely taste better than any other alternative-
since i've got that showboating showoff-type jauns down pat;
but on the other hand,
it would've been so nice to be disappointed in the taste of other folks consideration.
munch up on and digest that for a bit, broskis.
*
but i had the goods, and i know all the words,
so i sang the happy happy song, and i took a shot at that wishful sh!t, too.
check out the teleportational self-portraiture:

rules is rules, yo.
soooooooo,
do wishes come true?
ummm, don't be dumb, duders.
of course they do!
...but only if they aren't any good.
yeah.
that's the way it goes in real life, y'know...
when you don't dwell in make-pretend fairy-flossing story time,
it's the suckie wishes that always seem to come true;
and all the other other easy-fixin' work-shirking weak-sauce sh!t
is what falls short of the mark.
there is no such thing as epic real-world good-time before-times restoration,
because those jauns are for waterbabies and nancypants butterballs, y'all.
making moves, doing work, and getting busy is how the magic gets actually activated.
participation trumps passive hoping every damn time, without question.
-
i mean, real talk?
i even saw a shooting mutha-b!tching star last night.
i'm for serious, son.
no jokes.
a tiger-tailed trail skidding across the ionosphere on a crisp, clear, starry nighttime.
it was most probably a quadrantid meteor, since they're in season right now;
i still closed my eyes, held my breath, and tried my luck again, though.
the heavens supplied me with a mulligan, so i took aim,
and fired off my second shot at wishful thinking.
huh?
yeah.
hold on to your hats and horses, because here comes the big news, my ninjas-
it didn't work.
...at all.
awwwwwwwwwwwww, man!
hard styles and hard times and even happy berfdays can't change the truth.
what's really going on?
empty beds and empty hearts and an empty F*ing life, kids.
older and wiser and still more of all the same everything else.
if you don't think so, you must be selling something.
*
as you wish?
mostly dead, more likely;
never quiet, never soft.....7x46