get even uglier, but stay dope anyway.

duders,
warrior poets are fair-minded, heavy-handed, hard-hearted, hot-blooded,
level-headed, ham-fisted, thick-skinned, and a whole bunch of other other
contradictory adjectives as well.
but,
we're individually a complete cast of dramatis personae from one day to the next,
and perpetually method-acting ourselves into characters far stranger
and far truer than the best written-real-life tragedies of comical historical fact or fiction.
and yet, despite the fluctuations in temperament,
we are always, and at the same exact time, no less, maintaining a thread of
consistency with endless intensity and unerring accuracy.
real talk-
more than any variables can influence,
what we are at the core stays exactly the same,
from the jump-off and throughout the ebbs and flows and waxes and wanes.
that's right,
all of the mutha-b!tching time
we stay ugly, and we stay dope.
uh-huh.
teleport:

ugh.
infinite natures never end, neighbors.
luckily,
the virtuous valkyrie vixens i'm raising are by far more beautiful
berserker barbarian maidens than scalding sirens of skaldic stanzas.
lucky them, i guess.
check the 'port, again:

surprise!
maple is sweet, harvest is half asleep, and i'm 100% pure creep.
damn.
it's not easy maintaining a high level of hottness for their sake,
and doubly so when you're as old and busted as i am.
F*!
hard styles and long drives and empty spaces, y'all.
it's all really happening, and it keeps going on and on and on and on.
today is the day, again;
never quiet, never soft.....