no foolin'.
yesterday was a saggy butt of disappointment.
could it be that the absence of sandwich optimism
bled over into the rest of the day?
maybe.
i mean,
my appointments rescheduled,
the weather was windy as F*,
(which is 100% the worst ever),
and there was no juice in my art making world.
nope.
i started a small little warmup,
to get back into the swing of things and maybe be a bit productive
while the tattoo scene mostly took the day off-
neighbors,
some happy stonery cartoon skull monkey sh!t is NOT what i intended:
damn.
real life true stories require relating the dispensation of doo-doo butter
and not just the elite dopeness of the more frequent successes.
what. the. heck. happened?
i dunno, man.
and then,
after that pile of poop plopped out of my paintbrush,
i didn't even take a good picture of my pizza:
lame.
also,
you'd think i'd be specifically the kind of guy who checks the pie
before he leaves the restaurant,
to make sure they didn't do it wrong;
but here's the thing, kids-
ampy-d ordered it,
and somehow i got suckered into picking it up.....
so i didn't know what was s'posed to be on it, anyway;
and i didn't want to be there;
and i'd just finished up a sh!t-salad smearface of a day;
so just i grabbed 'em, and raced out,
just to not have to be still doing the thing
that i didn't want to be doing at all in the first place.
i even left the all the change, which was excessive for takeaway,
especially considering they left off half the stuff she ordered!!!!
yes.
that's right.
i got GOT by the gods of grumpiness.
oh, yeah.
and while they went rogue and added arugula to activate some added excellence,
it arrived at the expense of all the actual ingredients she requested!
yikes.
i mean, thanks for the little bitter leaves, bro-
but, keeping the red onions and the daiya might've been a better plan.
awwwwww.
their boss goes off on a family vacation,
and oh how these hippie-A* mice will play!
my sauce count was replenished, at least.
hahahaha.
that red tomato magic was about the only bright spot
of the first eighteen hours of the day.
crabtree, amber, and revenge of the sith,
with a side order of exercise finished off the evening properly.
sometimes,
the last few minutes are all you get, y'know?
hey,
as long as they're good, i'll take it.
*
it's freezing out.......like, literally.
twenty nine degrees of forsaken fahrenheit suckerism, in may?
that's not cool at all.
i know it'll get nicer later,
but when you're up and at 'em in the still chill of a morning so brisk,
even the birds aren't singing?
that's when the attack of the new england weather grumps
takes hold of your mood for a good long while.
and, what's worse-
it's windy still, too.
that will never ever ever be invited to my makeout party, ever.
duders,
i've got a rotten roster of rough spots and tough times to tattoo today,
and on top of all of that,
i'm pretty sure i'm going to have to use some less-than-the-sexxxiest bits
on top of my DEEP DISH PIZZA tonight!!!!!
woooooo.
i've got a double batch of double-dough rising as i write.
guys,
i'm not about to let some crappy crap take a crap on my night,
after it wipes itself on my day.....
and even the store-boughtiest veggie bacon
is much better than a simply-chee' deepness dinnertime.
real talk.
there's only one thing that makes bad art and worse tattoos a win,
and that will always be pizza.
if you didn't know, you're welcome,
and if you knew already,
word up.
it's all really happening,
ups and downs;
never quiet, never soft.....
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