that means everybody will be looking skyward towards
those explosive flower bouquets bursting like bombs in the air.
sulphur and gunpowder and color and ooohs and ahhhhhs
are ALL on the menu for tonight.
crowds upon crowds will pack into village greens and roadsides,
for pointless parades and fried dough, cover-bands and classical music.
when the whole entire country celebrates berfday freedom,
equality, truth, and justice at once,
everyone is invited.
...and that's never a good idea.
ha.
ironic that the principles that make here pretty neat
have to apply to all the folks we all wish wouldn't show up to the show.
awwwwwwwwww.
nothing ruins a good time like good attendance and free admission.
true story.
huh?
oh,
yes, well, i'm sure burgers and beers and brats of more than one variety
will appear throughout the day in various locales across the country.
and what about me?
nah.
i won't be at your cookout.
i'm not about that life, neighbors.
i mean,
i love gluttony, and convenience, and guns as much as the next guy.
patriotism for me ends well in advance of waving flags
and watching firetrucks follow packs of people
walking down the street in identical outfits.
seriously.
what i really love about america is capitalism.
yup.
stacks on stacks on stacks are what i'm after,
and those aren't waiting for me at a barbecue.
so, where will i be?
i'll be where i've got to be.
at the tattoo cave,
blasting surnburnt bros and capturing the spirit of the u.s.a.
what's that?
well, it's saturday, duders.
i always work on saturday.
and besides, it's not like it's MY berfday.
that'd be different.
the only actual worst part is that i was genuinely looking forward to
being the single solitary artist in attendance today.
naturally,
the minkiest, minciest, mealiest worm-squirming sh!ts are now
horning in on my prefect summer day.
awwwwwwwwwww, man!
nothing goes the way we want it to, does it?
ummmm,
actually,
some things do.
like treats.
treats are the very best part of every single day.
and today,
the treats are gonna really need to bring the soothsayin'
to this savage battle-beast-
otherwise, it's just traffic and walk-ins and weak sauce,
and no sweet sustenance to succor me.
we can't have that.
so we'll have to have these, instead-
check the george-washington-carver-type teleport:
yuuuuuuuuuuup!!
soft, hand-rolled and pressed smooth,
crumbly, but not the least little itty bit dry,
and sweet without being tooth-enamel-stripping cloyers.
yes, y'all.
treats are the answer.
and that half-dip script-flip of deep dark chocolate ganache?
expert.
chocolate and coconut and peanut butter are best friends.
that's real.
sprankles?
obviously.
caramel turtle and toasted coconut crawnchers complete the picture.
they sort of look like night-sky portraits.
i like that.
the roads are busy,
and this remote little town is packed-tight with out-of-towners.
that's what happens in beautiful places, though, isn't it?
ugly people F* up the view.
it's treats and income-generating activities all day.
and i'm only optimistic about one of those-
i've already completed that,
so optimism is probably all over with, and before it's even 8 a.m.
hard styles, and independence, and fire, and works.
this is it.
239 years later, this is What IS;
never quiet, never soft.....
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