so much.

duders,
it's been some kind of full day over here in the wallowing hollows
of the emptiest life in the woodsly goodness.
huh?
oh, yeah.
there's plenty going on.
it's a ball out berfday, y'know?
there was an expensive stinking stogie stump getting smoked earlier,
to ensure that i smell as bad as i feel.
that's real.
how was it?
take a peek, and judge for yourselves:

yuck.
being manly never tasted so terrible.
and since we're speaking of dubious tastes,
how about expensive gourmet weirdie grown-up carbonated soft drinks?
oh.
i don't mind if i do, neighbors-
kola with a 'k', son?
uh-huh.
check the teleport:

it's fancy, and it might even be delicious,
although my money is on the opposite being true.
it was expensive and unnecessary and therefore probably disappointing.
we'll see.
i haven't cracked it open yet,
i'm waiting for just the right nighttime nightcap moment to arrive,
and then it's a glugging chug down the gullet for that primo-supremo soda pop.
what?
yeah,
that's a love note scribed longhand from my main ninja handsome adam-
he got it poppin' all the way to XI for your mutha-F*ing faces-
check out this hottness from the future:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
activated like a flippin' expert.
somebody doesn't have to F* right off, that's for sure.
it's official,
my friends are better than yours.
(unless they're your friends, too, of course!)
***********
it can't all be happy happy, though, yo.
my dog hunted up,
and also successfully trapped this little A*-hole:

a vole!
what a squeaky racket that small sucker can squawk out!
a little mandible mastication from my cantankerous canine,
and he was well singing and sneaking and hiding from the unholy hurtin' she put to it.
we doo-doo that kind of sh!t up in here.
jessica wouldn't let nature take it's course, of course,
and in an attempt to relocate the freeloading squinty-eyed stoopid F*er,
he had to live in that cup for a few.
alas,
my terrorist terrier tore it up too well,
and it died of it's tenure inside the jaws of destruction.
(final outcome? nature wins!!)
i really love olive the dog sometimes, ninjas.
a sacrifice to the berfday gods from my own savage battle-beast!
dope!
***********
and now, this is happening:

wordimus prime.
a pagoda-style pyre of potential hot fire.
a crazy blaze of barbarian glory, guys.
it's the best part of any berfday where hard-style pounding isn't on the menu.
awwwwwwwwwww, man.
if it gets hot enough,
maybe i can self-immolate and scatter my ashes on the winds of war and change.
bleak?
you don't know the half, friends.
it's another 'nother day in the life of this worthy warrior poet,
complete with slow motion instant replays and penalties involving boxes.
hard styles are all there are,
and long, cold nights are the only kind we happen to have on hand up here.
it's all still happening.
i wouldn't have it any other way,
and happily, i don't have any other choice;
never quiet, never soft.....