THIS GUY.

sorry little birds,
today is not a good day to come to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i mean,
i had a whole morning routine planned,
but a little fuzzy wuzzy is here,
and he's ruining your whole scene.
yup.
check the teleport:

awwwwwwww.
this little A*-hole just terrorized all the seeds i spread for y'all,
and then he tried to come into the house.
yup.
like, for real.
...and while i'd love love LOVE to knife a bear to death
in the grip of a legends of the fall-style final confrontation,
and then wear his skinned-off wear his pelt as a barbarian trophy
of warrior poetic spirit and memory,
this one is just a stupid little baby bear.
-which implies he's jusssst riiiiight, if the stories are to be believed
although i personally feel he just came awfully close to being nearly-dead wrong-
lenience is being granted since he surely doesn't know the rules yet.
so,
despite my initial excitement,
no machete chops got activated.
i know, i know.
i CAN be reasonable, friends.
instead,
i just banged on the door, yelled a bunch,
and then poked his nose with a knife hand chop (!),
and after that,
he finally ran away.
word up.
neighbors,
i slapped a bear in his F*ing FACE this morning-
what did you do?
ha.
battle beasts and black bears and birdfeeding and nature...
that's what this morning is all about.
it turns out,
the surprise of a window screen popping up and fingers poking out
was not something a bear's infinite nature can hang out with,
even when the aroma of Tea'N'Toast is wafting out of my open spaces
and up into the nostrils of  his dumb pointy face...
he was drawn to the kindness i show in scattered grain, shell and seed
to the avian population of this woodsly mountain vale.
i don't mind giving to those from whom i get a return on my investment,
but there's no free breakfast up in here for any wandering passers-by.
i mean, c'mon.
licking up all the treats?

that's a little bit cute, i'll acknowledge,
but it's still not cool.
cute isn't a job, nor is it a reason.
that's a thing.
there won't be any stabs and skinnings,
he's too small anyway,
and i'd only get a weak little cape out of him.
(oh, stop it)
however,
i'm not about to have a rangy, tick-infested stinkbomb breaking into the house, either.
i mean,
that's when the use of stormswept savagery  becomes a must.
rules is rules, after all.
*
LISTEN TO YOUR BODY WHEN IT WANTS TO DO KARATE!
that's what's poppin'.
i'm allowing a little listen, here and there, to the secret sounds of drums in the deep,
within the hot fiery furnaces of my raging savage stormswept heart.
uh-huh.
yelling, and kicking, and punching and jumping,
and singing all the time, a song of hot fire and bright lightning,
dark clouds and darker nights,
twinkling stars, and howling moons.
i don't know how to do real karate,
but i DO know how to flip out all over the F*ing place and smash stuff.
apples to apples, duders.
one man's jiujitsu is another mans's too many dotted letters.
there you have it.
keep an ear open, and an empty hand at the ready.
your body knows what it wants;
never quiet, never soft.....