what the F* is sleep?
i don't do that much anymore, at all;
but i do get busy in the in-between times where it's dark outside
and nothing is open anywhere within miles of the woodsly goodness.
well, nothing is open except my big mouth,
and the open arms of the elitest level of effective experts.
just sayin',
my peoples are the bestest peoples.
you know it's true, too.
did i end up all alonely as my own bloody valentine?
nope.
i saw ALL the unencumbered and unattached individuals throughout the day.
admittedly,
i lured some of 'em in with those cupcakes an' that,
but they still showed up with coffees, each and every one, so it still counts.
then we kicked it up with a family dinner alongside my mans and them.
check the teleport:
the blackhearted bitterness buffet;
the dirty-south valentine's day dinner;
the singles-mingle sausagefest for skinny jerks....
all of that.
uh-huh.
and y'all can kiss my grits.
what do you know about active participation, neighbors?
like,
what's up with the cucch coming up for just the day,
and austin and teddy seamlessly sliding from the studio to the Fortress with us,
and a fourgy of double-dating hetero-lifemate nighttime turbo-hottness
getting it poppin' like it's hotter'n' hellfire an' that?
oh, word?
well,
if you don't know, now you know, ninja.
it all really happened, and it was all really dope.
and i'll bet you wanna know what's on that plate of greatness, dontcha?
okay.
a heap of blackeye peas and ham-ishness with collard greens,
two twin triangles of chicken-fried tempeh steak,
a blarpity blop of mean mutha-'ucking mashed mama-jammin' yams,
aaaaaand a dollop of grits.
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
no sh!t, yo.
we had hominy sunovab!tchin' grits.
...
...and black-history black-peppery southern gravy on top of all of those jauns.
...and also ALL the ho' sauce, too.
c'mon.
we keep it 'hood in the white mountains.
thanks have got to go out to the cucch,
for taking us to that suppertime space full of freshness.
and to john denver for the soundtrack.
ah, yes indeed- take me home, country roads.
*
why are kelly and amanda so dope?
i ask myself all the time what i did to deserve such great people in my life.
seriously,
just when i need it the most,
i've got activators rallying around the warrior poetry of this Folk Life
as loud, fresh, and hard as anyone could ever ask for.
i mean,
those fine-A* b!tches even got the dog in the crew a valentine!
that's taking expertism to eleven, y'feel me?
wordimus prime.
check the over-the-top teleport:
after loading my car with a gift of endless end tables,
they still hit me off with a bucket of vegan-friendly candy,
and a single red rose, (awwww)
aaand even olive the dog got some sweet-style potatoes for her face!
uh-huh.
i agree- they win, kids.
that's real.
***********
harvest and maple.
yeah.
my dearest and most darling daughters, duders.
it's that time, again\, and just in time at that.
school vacation means new hampshire gets that pair of perfect little lightning-striking
viking valkyries inhabiting the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
for the next full week, and then some.
i need it.
i'm getting it.
and i'm getting them, too.
tonight's the night.
half a day of work, a full day in the car,
and a night of family togetherness with the two best kids i know.
with a slab of sh!t-salad and tiresome trekking in between.
it's always asscrackachussetts, y'all.
on the ones,
i've got to span some time on the highways of that babypants weak sauce state.
it's a hard style with a big giant payoff at the midway point.
(roundtrip is a hike and a half, even with the divorce-style halfway meetup. i.e. 60/40)
it all costs something.
but don't kid yourselves,
i pay my debts.
it's all really happening.
that's what i've been trying to tell you all this time;
never quiet, never soft.....
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