taking back sunday.

duders,
i will NOT be watching the superbowl.
as usual.
stoopidbowl sunday holds no interest for me.
clever commercials, musical travesties, buffalo wings, light beer,
NONE of that is what i crave, neighbors.
so for the umpteenth time, in a row, i'm abstaining from giving even half a sh!t.
however,
i am so easy.
just like sunday morning, y'all.
y'know what always makes me feel better, every single time?
uh-huh.
spending money.
how could it not? especially since i'm so good at it.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress will be refilled,
and this time,
as per the benevolent dictatorship it has become,
only one vision of the new hottness needs to be considered.
and that's mine, kids.
no committee, no discussion, no opinions at all.
mine all mine all mine.
*
it's all really happening.
day one-
master bedroom reclamation.
word the F* up.
master and commander bedroom, more like.
believe it.
too long i've languished in the serial killer-style extra-rapey extra guest room.
no more of that weak-sauce, my ninjas.
in fact,
i just went out and activated some expert new bedtime bits.
i mean, c'mon,
what am i?
an A*-hole?
no way.
i will bankrupture the treasury before i do without what i'm due,
and that's long overdue, too, duders.
yep.
check out this new hot sheet-sh!t:

uhmmmmm.
freshly made with fresh new ingredients.
i'm pretty sure that's what's up.
i rep a high thread count, my ninjas.
and at least three kinds of blankets at any given time.
if we add in some big fluffy flippin' new pillows, too?
all of a sudden, i'm excited to hit the hay.
***********
the activation society is sure stepping up it's lightning-striking
viking virtuosity and worthy warrior poetic value system implementation.
that's a thing.
no, for real.
my dudes have been steady keeping vigil on my semi-stable mindstate,
and donating night after night to keeping it real and keeping me company.
and i am grateful for these friends.
for serious.
it's a well-oiled ecosystem of active participation, gratitude and generosity,
and late night bro-hangs with hard-styled hip-hop soundtrack attacks.
we doo-doo that intervention-type freshness.
it's good.
*
...and i'm doing laundry.
uh-huh.
it's true.
the ever-loving end of the old bustedness is assuredly complete,
and i've never felt it more than whilst pouring detergent into the washer.
i can only hope that tomorrow is as fluid as today.
every day is like sunday?
i can live with that;
never quiet, never soft.....