today is the day.
the start of the end,
the cold-snapping caught-napping deep freeze,
the darkest day,
the shortest glimpse of brightness,
the most terrible twenty four hours on the calendar.
and the solstice is not calling for an armistice with ma nature.
nature wins regardless.
this is it.
and i'll be honest,
i'm not terribly excited.
will i have a furious fire tonight?
i mean, c'mon, neighbors-
rules is rules,
and we make sure to mark all important occasions with ceremony,
even the most odious.
i'm refinancing the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress today.
effectively assuming total legal ownership of a massive manse
i've already solely occupied for a great many years-
with the added bonus of having a literal deed that designates me, and me alone,
as the main man in the great hall of this hallowed house.
what makes a house more of a home?
taking the hovering haunt of a failed and derailed past,
and exorcising it right out, and off the page,
and at a two-point benefit on interest rates, for good measure.
the permanent record is being wiped clean.
expunging the major mistake of my thirties,
and preparing the battlefield for a furious tour-de-force in my forties.
that's no joke,
and getting old means getting down to business faster,
since there's so much less time left for F*ing around.
it's all feeling sort of like this:
triceratops is the best one.
no-bake chocolate coconut oatmeal is delicious.
all the flavor is there,
and the ingredients are all accurately represented as a whole,
but holy sh!t does that look like sh!t.
i know it's good,
but why does it have to be so ugly?
because that's what really real life looks like.
i rep a hard style,
and i'll sign a hard bargain,
and i'll even drive a long ways to get there.
i've covered five years in two,
and that's something to be proud of, probably.
so, i s'pose i'm back on track,
and that's for certain in accordance with the dominant decree of the day-
just be dope, or F* right off,
which has a subsidiary addendum which also applies-
stay ugly, stay dope.
on the ones,
real life is a real sunovab!tch,
but all the alternatives are a bunch of mincey rat bastards.
that's the truth.
now it's winter,
and it's the start of a whole new era of active participation,
and a brand new catalog of curated spirit and memory.
waffles help with that:
is that bacon?
not even kinda.
although, barley almost sorta kinda, maybe, it's like bacon, only gayer.
those are real maple syrup covered brick-colored straps of smoky pink rectangle.
that's honestly a more accurate description.
i've got food in my bellyhole,
and there's treats on the counters,
so i guess winter being here can't ruin today, anyway-
all the crap-ricorns of the earth begin to experience their time to shine,
in the darkest time there is all year.
it's a bleak and black sort of season,
and it's the one i'm made out of.
my kid, maple, is celebrating a fatty boombattie berfday tomorrow, too.
and that's a tough one right there and then, or here and now, for that matter-
an actual factual nightmare before christmas,
when some old fat bearded guy is trying to overshadow your birth
with candy canes and some baloney about the big baby jesus.
even if nothing else goes right,
there WILL be cake;
and i'm gonna send a secret special message to the secret universal draftsmen
of the secret universal plans to let this time around be more expert than ever.
i am grateful for the time i have been given,
even though most of it has been an A*-kickin' tickin' tock of the clock;
never quiet, never soft.....