bum bon boom.

fire!
FIRE!
for those about to rock?
FIRE!!
for those who albie rock??
FIRE!!!
we salute you, neighbors,
and we burn the mutha-'ucker down when we doo-doo that guy fawkesy jauns.
mmhmm.
teleport:

a little fuego,
for a little minute,
with my little homie crabtree.
that's what we needed, and that's what we did.
now,
i'll ask you this-
if you'd never seen fire before, would you try to eat it?
huh?
why do i ask?
because that's precisely what crabby did,
almost immediately.
jeez.
on the real,
that just seems SO incredibly dumb;
but,
then again,
i've known about fire for a while already,
and that's including the pros and cons of warmth and light and burns and smoke.
he learned, and he's no worse off for the lesson, which is good news.
afterwards,
once he'd accepted that blazing barbarian flames are NOT food,
we sat in the rustling leaves.
yep.
check the firelights-at-night-type teleport:

awwwwwww.
so kyooooooooooooot,
just he and i.
and we enjoyed some toasty november woodsly goodness in the comparative hottness,
of the specific ambient temperature and relative actual atmosphere at the
Folk Life & Liberty Fortress firepit.
expert.
it was a warm night anyway,
and we were both feeling pretty mellow following a full day at the tattoo studio.
yep.
he accompanied me to the shop for the whole dang day,
and i enjoyed having him around.....
....except for all the farts.
damn.
nothing says tattoo like a cloud of miasmal doom lingering around one's nostrils.
anyway,
we're over here spanning time together, and we're waking and playing
and otherwise occupying all non-sandwich week related time as a team.
*
speaking of sandwich week-
check the breakfast-type teleport:

wordimus prime!
are those ALL the seeds on that spongy italian bread?
yep.
with garlic and onion sprankles, also?
F*ing right, kids.
i want the whole experience, fully-sorcerous and stupendous,
and not just some half-steppin' half-correct friday morning magic.
real talk.
sandwiches are important,
and i'm over here giving praise and thanks
like some kind of a damned virtuous viking victual venerator.
i'm like that, and you like that about me.
don't play pretend with me, buddy...
so.
i've got garlic hummus, and shredded carrot, and sliced tomato,
and crawnchy lettuce, and stringy sprouts, and crisp-edged soft tofu,
and smoky floppy veggie baconical strippy straps.
that's the way to do-doo that 'guini sh!t.
for serious.
and i'm all up in it to win the breakfast title for the sixth day in a row, yo.
incidentally,
it wins pretty hard, if my mouth's vote counts for much at all.
(it's the only vote, really; but, i mean, c'mon, there's no ballot or anything, anyway)
november isn't necessarily the best one,
not once, not ever, not in my experience, anyway-
this week, however, has got it poppin',
and i'm grateful for the experiences, and the sandwiches,
that this remote, rural, reclusive Folk Life has allotted
to us worthy warrior poets and our pets;
never quiet, never soft.....