he neighbors,
you KNOW what that means, right?
right!
that means it's march.
day one.
el primero!
and march means really stoopid weather for a whole 'nother month.
yikes.
march is by and large pretty much NOT dope.
in the woodsly goodness, it's still totally wintertime for sixty+ days,
and where march is great for college kids to go somewhere warm
and get undressed and drunk and derail their dreams for a bit;
and also for tubby older dudes to give inordinate and nigh-inconceivable
amounts of sh!ts about college-age basketball games;
for someone like myself,
who cares not at all about ANY of that?
well, then march is just a slightly longer, slightly warmer february,
only without the benefit of Black History Month,
and with the added detriment of all this F*ing wind.
yuck.
the thing is,
rules is rules,
and the monthly magic still has to be refreshed on the first,
in order for the spell to work it's voodoo-doo butter on the bad times,
and worse luck,
that'll surely ensue if we don't say the word.
that's real.
so,
i said it, of course!
twice.
the polysyllabic summons to the secret universal plan;
the magnetic anti-jinx attractant;
the hippity-hoppity lop-eared post-leap-day demand of dopeness
from the elemental aether of invisibly-yet-tangible expertism.
guys,
you know what to shout out, loud and proud:
rabbit! rabbit!
DAS IT!
i woke right up, in the deep dark of night,
and i said it through a heavy layer of phlegm.
what?
oh,
i woke up sick,
dripping and dropping and aching and breaking,
because i'm not just experiencing first-day spellcasting,
i'm also going to the dreary doo-doo dollops of weak-saucy waterbabyish connecticut.
womp womp waaaaaaaaaaaah.
what goes better with a roadtrip than a wily, wiry, wild'n-out terrier?
oh, i dunno-
how about a head full of hot mucous?!
.....disgusting.
so,
i'm a swollen glandular good time gladiator,
and i'm ready to ride the fury road through everywhere terrible,
just to start this month off with good pizza,
and better people,
and a whole lotta family togetherness.
ampy d is on dog-management, sitting shotgun, and holding it down,
while i swerve my sinus-sloshing sh!t-salad skull through the highways and byways
that'll lead me back to blackness.
mmmhmmm.
y'know what cheers me up a little?
that i'm not THIS guy:
awwwwwwwwwww, MAN!
friends,
my sharp-shark-nosed homeboy can sniff out the 'sgusting like he's getting paid to.
for really real,
crabtree finds the weirdest stuff on our walks...
and this dead little burrower,
flash-frozen on top of a hundred-year-old grave?
that's pretty expert.
i wonder if the old bones down there are cursed?
or just plain evil?
or if it's pure and simple chance circumstance
that stopped this blind baby dead in his tracks.
i kind of hope it's because there's a lich trapped in the local ancient granite cemetery.
i mean,
that's way cooler than a poor underground rodent dying hungry and cold
whilst looking for aboveground foodstuffs, or no?
ha.
it's all really happening,
and that's the whole point.
today is the day,
and it's already off to a heck of a start;
never quiet, never soft.....
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