cheap art lives on.

what?
uh-huh.
cheap art markers are the best ones.
they bleed,
they wear out fast,
the tips fray,
they're perfect.
and stickers are always dope.
always.
what i'm sayin' is-
i GOT they.
both of 'em, even,
as gifts.
check the treats-for-no-reason-type teleport:

awwwwwww.
lucky me,
i'm thought well of, in absentia, anyway.
i'm serious.
no,
really, i am.
i know, right?
i don't get it either,
but i DO get the treats anyway.
expert.
this means i suppose i'll be sticking and marking sh!t again,
for a little while longer at least...
*
snow,
wind,
arctic air,
frigid doomsday gelid hellscapes with no escapes,
and all kinds of hard styles?
uh-huh.
it's ALL really-real, and it's all happening these days.
2014 has been a real batch of pignuts so far.
maybe the year of the horse will activate some kind of
newly-minted asian superflu of catastrophic new hottness?
c'mon.
it's the year of the horse.
what are you?
an A*-hole.
horse people make cat people seem normal,
and everybody knows cats are the worst.
duh.
the outlook is grim,
and the north is bleak,
and the sauce is weak,
but a better embattled embedded bitterness is still superior
to a worsening of will and a withering of warrior spirit.
i'll take an unhealthy heaping helping of hot fire to the spithole
before i accept that sh!t-salad is the only sandwich on the menu.
it's unfolding outward, and upwards...
it's just that these doo-doo buttery detours take you down,
and around,
on long route short-cuts that only seem terrible,
until you're done with the work and see the results.
and that's no joke.
this year has been a real b!tch-ass thing to do.
but it keeps going on and on and on and on anyway.
we're grinding and trekking and slogging and making our moves,
aren't we?
yeah.
this is it.
that's comforting, kinda,
in an old man with an old dog doing old tricks kind of way;
never quiet, never soft.....