crabcrimbo

neighbors,
here's a little test for you....
if you can't hang out with this,
you're an A*-hole.
teleport:

you still hangin?
i hope so.
i mean, for serious,
that's special.
huh?
i'm just sayin',
it's real flippin' kyoooooooooooot.
ha.
what?
oh, stop it.
i'm allowed to like my little dude.
we spend each morning out cruising the 'hood,
climbing onto strangers' property on strangers' properties,
properly trespassing and snagging ourselves some photo ops where we find them.
on the real,
why leave the seat next to ol' saint nick open,
if not for some forrest gumpery moments with my main homeboy?
right?
right!
my forest realm has got some expert spots in it,
and the immediate streets that surround the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
are all filled with friendly people.
that's really good news considering i usually pop up out of the woods
in their backyards.
there're a lot of guns in new hampshire, guys,
i'm just glad none of them are being pointed at crabtree and i whilst
we prowl around in the hedges and appear like magic
in the dooryards of the local populace.
yep.
*
there's no time left for laying around.
i'm up early,
and i've got big plans for the day.
there's papers to sign,
car repairs to see to,
cake to bake,
and bags to pack.
uh-huh.
my annual family christmastime in connecticut is about to get crackin',
that's four days of doing everything all at once,
and teenage berfdays,
and friendly visits,
and all the things at all the times that escape notice and attention
while i'm a ways away in the mountains of the north.
there will be feasting and dancing, duders,
and all of it is about to start.
this is it,
and there's not likely to be less of it by tomorrow;
never quiet, never soft.....