wind. rain. thunder. lightning.

hey HEY hey!
it's the eleventh again.
....already.
it would seem i've got to do SOMETHING turbo-dope today!
any suggestions?
i don't think going to see star trek counts, either.
even if it IS bargain night at the moviehouse.

for those of you in the state of nutmeg and constitutions,
home of the weak sauce and the hard styles,
i've got some tasty tidbits and good news:
i'll be up in that b!tzyach tomorrow night.
now,
don't be a waterbaby,
and don't miss out on some togetherness, ya'll.....
i'm ready to eat amazing and delicious pizza pie,
see some good peoples, mine and otherwise,
and bring the woodsliness and the goodness down to the flat land,
live and direct from up off of the mountain.
that's correct.
in the middle of all this whirlwindy tornado relocation disorientation,
we've managed to make some time,
or at least take some time, (by force)
to see some really real mutha-F*ers,
and even make a semi-secret super-sweet sojourn
to seek out some super-duper brothers-in-arms,
in the cityscape of brotherly love.....
oh yeah.
we're headed southbound and down,
wherever we go,
we're at the fire.

is my friend meryl's birthday today?
yup.
is that awesome?
uh-huh.
i mean,
a lovely lady born on the eleventh?
c'mon....that's a pretty hefty birthright.
it's practically pendragonesque.
that's some excalibur action,
for those of you who aren't epic nerds,
and didn't know that already.
i'm just sayin',
i don't know if brown blops and bitter tea are considered party food
at least, west of northeastern iraq,
but if that's how ya'll doo-doo that birthday business,
that kurdish cuisine i heard about had better be ready,
because i know how hebrank loves to party....
it involves ingesting some dizzying quantities and calories.
it's a serious sight.
you almost can't stop looking.
no, really.....

ah well,
i've got vulcans on my mind.
if that's a problem,
i've got a mind meld and a nerve pinch ready to
spock your illogical socks off, mutha-flippa'.
live long and prosper, my ninjas;
never quiet, never soft.....

word to yer mama....

it's mother's day.
a whole 24 hour span dedicated to momminatin' it up.
also the most popular day for brunch.
true story.
anway,
before or after your late morning mimosas,
give some thanks for being born, kids.
and for all those grilled cheeses,
and band-aids,
and whatever else,
that momma-bear contributed over the years.
gratitude.
have a little.
and say a silent salute,
for all those moms who aren't with us all anymore.
they're in a better place for sure,
in on all the secrets of the universal magnetic magic;
and we're still here...
they're missed everyday, especially today.
so give out those proppers, my ninjas.
i'm sayin'.

i know i've got a set of serious skaldic sagas
scorching my socks off.
why?
because i'm a lightning-striking viking,
and i'm at the fire.
where are all ya'll?

yesterday,
my (no joke) odinist valkyrie client came in to get a cover-up
with her taxidermist boyfriend.
and they brought me some totally kickass treats!!!

bare bear knuckles will be brought to bear, b!tches.
that's a bear toof in that mix-up, too.
dopeness.

a fisher cat's skull as a tip?
that's gratuitous gratuity, mutha-licorice!
my clients are pretty rad,
and the woodsly goodness knows what time it is....
animal head time!
i did 10 flippin' tatty o'zappanaughs from open to close.
no pauses, no breaks, no lulls.
do duly note, however,
that in quantity and quality it did not go to eleven.
holy smoking needle-bars,
i didn't stop at any point from the minute i walked into the studio.
all day long.
good thing i sucked down a super-deluxe
espresso bean mocha java soy frappe.
that's a pretty hefty beverage, my ninjas;
i was positively off my tits with energetic enthusiasm.
motormouth verbosity and percussive concussive pursed lip fire spit.
add in a crisp and handsome bow tie,
and my day was decided before i ever even left the house.
it's impossible to be in a bad mood in a bow tie.
that's a scientific fact.
look it up.

it's sunday.
it's mother's day.
it's all really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

i'm at the fire....

where do i keep all my crap?
in a sweet storage unit!
this here is the spot.
i've got a whole fleet of sweet rides,
cast iron woodstoves,
axes, lawnmowers, and all kinds of other stuff.
yesterday,
we cleared out a huge hunk of square footage,
to make room for other 'nother
various and more big business from here to there,
with the help of my manly man-friend wayne.
it was so explosively masculine,
we both sprouted extra body hair,
and deep deep sub-bass-boosted baritone voices the whole time.
that's what happens when too much thunderous man-power
gets put into play in one place.
(that's what SHE said)
it was a half an hour of intense bro-mance,
and involved throwing large metal objects around,
and smashing them up, too.
there's something gratifyingly burly
about moving appliances and sh!t with a pick'em-up truck....
testosterriffic!


you like that bodybag effect right there, dontcha?
take it easy, crime scene investigators....
those are my long-lost moose skeleton bits and pieces.
so now i have those, too.
my friend gina fished them out of a bog for me last year,
because she understands and appreciates
the power and the glory
of the woodsly goodness.
yeah!
and after a loooong winter being semi-buried,
i've unearthed the grisly remains.
which is awesome!
they do look a little serial killer in that bag, though.
which is also awesome!
i'm grateful for the contributions my friends make to this Folk Life.
seriously.

it's a full moon tonight.
anybody else feel like howlin', prowlin', scowlin', and growlin'?
because i'll tell you ninjas;
i am ready to ragnarok and roll all flippin' night.....
if you've got KISS alive II somewhere,
turn it up to eleven, my m-flipz,
and bring that thunder like gene simmons....
king of the nighttime world, ya'll.
loud and hard.
make it happen.
never quiet, never soft.....

ouch!!!!

mathemagician accountants,
local lending institutions,
federal income graboids,
minkie ex-wives,
funky bosses....
ALL the linkie-lipped hard-stylers out there,
are trying SO HARD to stick me for my papers!!!!
right up the fruit flute chute, my ninjas.
that's where the hotspot destination seems to be.
why else would all the usurers and money-lenders want
that particular pound of flesh???
what the F*, ya'll?!
that bright spot at the end of the tunnel
must be the bowl of the porcelain palace,
or maybe the bottom of the barrel i'm huckle-buckled over,
because the ol' log flume has been gettin' a deep dark workout
from within and without.
ouch!
this is one of those times where i've got to believe
the secret universal plan is looking out
for it's adherents, acolytes, advocates and avengers.
i can't see it,
but that doesn't mean it's not there.
as long as i'm feelin' it,
with my spidery ape-knuckled hands
or my savage stormswept gypsy heart,
then it's all still really happening.
good faith assessments of hard-style situations an' that....
i mean,
sometimes a secret can be a good thing, right?
like showing up to a surprise party!
just because it's unknown doesn't make anything unknowable.
that's optimism, my ninjas.
welll,
i'm wearin' my party hat all day,
hold-my-breath expectant-type business.
just-in-case boy scout preparedness, even.
i'm going to a party, mutha-lickas,
whether it be a victory celebration or a retirement consolation,
i don't know where all ya'll are at,
but i'm here already,
i'm at the fire.
never quiet, never soft......

into the woods.

2009's first mushroom sighting!
a lonely lorchel lounging out in the woodsliness.
after a long winter without seeing any of my mycological homeboys,
it was nice to get out amongst the trees and find this guy.
it's a false morel,
and it's a fattie-boombattie, too.
alas,
unlike the delicious regular morel mushrooms,
this one would probably cause a spate of problems,
from 'rrhea to headaches to even nausea and hallucinations.
and while i love a disphoric bellyache as much as anyone,
(maybe even a bit more than most)
i thought it better to let him live out his life all by his lonesome,
outside of my bellyhole.

it looks like a chocolate brain on a stick.
all this colder wetter weather is good for somethin' at least.
even if the biggest plus+ on the list
is a comparatively smallish bumpy lumpkin on the forest floor.


grow.
i mean,
c'mon.
a fern covered in fur?
nature wins.
every time.


i may actually even do a color tattoo today.
which is kind of a surprise at this point,
since i do 11x more blacks and greys these days...
and,
i'm starting my workday the same exact way i ended my last one:
a boston 'B' red sox tattoo.
because i'm obviously the world's biggest sports enthusiast.
it's my own personal no-hitter!
who's winnin'?
ME, my ninjas.
another 'nother other one for the ages.
i've got a long day ahead.
made even longer by the rain-soaked atmosphere all around me.
it's dark and dreary.
it's damp and doo-doo buttery.
but,
it'll all be over too soon,
and the packing and preparing that supplants the tatty o'zappin'
isn't exactly a warm welcome home....
busy busy busy, ya'll.
all day and most of the night.
we've got plans and plots,
schemes and capers,
big actions and move-makin' in the works.
it's thursday.
it's thor's day.
it's the thunder-bringin' day.
it's the perfect day for a lightning-striking viking.
louder than ten,
harder than ever,
never quiet, never soft.....

the outdoors. great and otherwise.

given the right conditions,
and half a chance,
little brown acorns turn into mighty brown oaks.
that's pretty rad.
it doesn't look like much right now,
just singled out of a mulchy mountain of leafy loam,
but,
humble beginnings can become auspicious outcomes.
i like that kind of thing.
thanks to our little squirrely buddies,
i'm betting a whole new copse of copious quercus varieties
is ready to sprout up and shout out.
that's word. 
 
i took a wicked nice
(albeit wet and mosquito-laden)
woodsly wizard walk yesterday.

it's the perfect season for good-lookin' leafy greens.
too early for new mushrooms,
but otherwise,
growth is what's a-poppin'.
from tip to toes,
the forest sure took a beating these last few seasons,
between the snowloads and the westerly winter winds.
plenty of treetrunks, branches, and roots
are newly relocated to positions somewhere else,
sideways and roundabout to where they were last fall.
change is the only constant, right?
riiiight.

i discovered an isolated little orchard of unplanned apple babies,
out in the middle of not-really-anywhere.
alongside a babbling brook,
there's a whole little grove of crabapples reaching for the sky.
i'm probably gonna dig one up,
and take her with me when we move.
although probably not that one up there.

whenever nature decides to grow bright red blops,
i'm inclined to let that course of action ride itself right out.
who knows?
maybe it'll start a whole new race of superior sentient apple ents?
i'm hopin' that they'll look kindly on me...
...the very next time i stumble across a spooky appleseed nursery
out in the center of a secondary growth forest.


c'mon.
shelves of withered paper-thin woodears?
doooooope.
thank goodness for the woodsly goodness.
i am grateful for this time,
all the time.
i am determined to make the most of the minutes and moments
that remain here with me.
i will miss this place,
but i will not forget it;
never quiet, never soft....

cinco.

oh yeah!!!
that's homemade salsa fresca, amigos.
so much garlic,
so many jalapenos,
and the most important ingredient;
tomatillos.
also known as jamberries,
they come in their own creepy paperbag husks,
which explains their other other name: huskcherries.
and they're sticky on the outside before you wash 'em up.
they also just happen to be mutha-flippin' delicious.
i'm tellin' you ninjas,
if you ain't got no love for tomatillos,
then you can F* right off.
and once the correct combination of lime juice, cilantro, 
green peppers, and vidalia onion gets it goin' on,
there's sure to be a vegetable orgy on your tastebuds.
now, where's a good place to place that furious flavorful sauce? 

balls-deep in a brutal barbarian burrito.
obviously.
we even rocked out with some maineroot lemon-lime soda,
to completely compliment the cuisine.
delicioso like a mo-fo.

now,
in order to combat the extreme gratuity
of shawnhebrank.com's overt
semi-exposed breastmeat photography,
i've decided to reveal a little almost 'nography of my own:

bam-a-lama, b!tches!!!!
daikon dong!
that's a totally tap-root tapering twanger, for sure.
can i just tell all ya'll how much i'm in love
with the super-elite produce section of our local grocery store?
245 different vegetable varieties available today.
not bad for the woodsliness, right?
i'm sayin'....

a day dedicated to victory.
i can hang out with that,
never quiet, never soft.....

in the know, in the now.

loud and hard.
that's it.
never quiet, never soft.
same idea, different t-shirt.
it's all about What Is.
being honest with the world around you, an' that...
volume and substance.
the right combination for active participation.

truth-tellers can't ever stop.
false hoods from false 'hoods' falsehoods always ruin it for everyone else.
an empowered coward
lettin' lazy lies leak out loud,
becomes a blowhard.
and that blows.
hard.
all wind but no tornado.
green-eyed envy,
and yellow-bellied bellows...
(the kind that do not stoke up any hottness)
all gods and worthy men hate a coward.
the only fear i have is that nobody knows the difference anymore,
between smoke and hot fire.

i'm grateful for all ya'll out there.
checkin' in on the woodsly goodness as it happens.
i worry a bit sometimes,
that the doo-doo butter around me is spread on SO flippin' thick,
that honest work and honest words get smothered.
not that anybody but another liar ever buys into the poop piles
of weak-sauce wordsmithing and poorly-phrased puerility.
ah, well.
brazenfaced barbarian bards stand up!
true stories, told truly.
that's how we get busy. 
why?
because it's all really happening.
i have to live with full faith in a fortunate fate.
neither softspoken nor frail,
rock hard and raging,
without fear of flagging flaccid failure.
i talk some sh!t,
i even feel like sh!t,
but i'm sure as sh!t not full of sh!t.
i'm just sayin',
as the lightning-striking viking ya'll started liking,
i doo-doo ALL that freaky sh!t, baby.
all my boasts are the heroic-type,
predispositions and predictions,
not misdirection.
and,
my hot fire gets spit out of a great gaping grate of pearly gates,
live and direct from my heart to yours.
there is a light that never goes out.
111% blister,
not bluster.
berserker barbarian battle-beasts, ya'll.
warrior poets,
livin' in the now,
remaining in the know.
more life.
less story.
never quiet, never soft....

ex libris.

that's an anglo concertina.
....because i SO needed one.
hey now,
go easy;
it's a cheap one.
which is still not that cheap,
just comparatively inexpensive.
real ones are outrageously unaffordable.
still,
that's a mutha-uckin' concertina!
what am i?
an A-hole?
maybe.
but i've got this idea into my head
that by next May Day,
i'll be walking on stilts and playing gypsy carnival music.
the only issue i have,
is that as of right now,
i don't know how to do either of those things.
but i am gonna.
363 more days of practice,
and it's on like honkey dong!

sh!t is F*d up, my 'lickas.
and the wrench i keep choosin'
is seriously compromising the cogs in the works.
my toothy hands are biting back and into
the toothy gears that make sh!t hustle and flow.....
and to really sink in the stink,
i'm all out of books.
i've cover-to-covered,
and subsequently packed away
all the tomes in my home.
what a steaming load of veiny choad, my ninjas.
i'm a fantasy trilogy short of a library over here.
and that's some weak sauce, boss.
how am i supposed to unwind?
what about the battle-mages and wyverns?
it's a hard damn day when i'm leaving here early-shirley
foregoing a trip to trap a triple americano,
and skip my only truly social outlet
to scan the stacks for somethin' drastic and fantastic.
what can i tell you mutha-uckas?
nerds is nerds, b!tches.
and while you can take the master out of the dungeon,
the longest soap-sudsiest shower in the world
won't rinse away the twenty-sided dungeon mastery in my veins.
you can keep your true-crimes,
your romantic paperback housewife word'nography,
you can even stash a few classics right up your wuthering heights.
i'm reppin' the section where the acne-and-glasses crowd
gets it goin' on and on....
i like my novels to be not just novel,
and graphic,
but i'm also pretty into graphic novels.
like i said,
nerds is nerds.
embracing it is the best revenge, an'all.
wyverns, wolverines, warhammers, and warrior-poets,
that's the big action in the back section.
(umm, that's what SHE said?)
i'm easy like sunday morning,
and i'm butt-nasty like saturday night;
never quiet, never soft.....

good mornings.

the inside of my house is like a miniature rainforest.
jess has a billionteen plants,
and the air inside of here is just as 'uckin' dooooope
as the mountain-fresh lungfuls of outside.
only,
without the savage stormswept circle of life
that seems to permeate the pores of the forest realm.
i'm tellin' ya'll,
the woods are home to events of a natural type of hard style.
animals kill each other's faces right off,
and then take a little nap.
livin' free,
or dying,
seems to be more than just a license plate motto....
for example:
i totally saw a hawk F* up a snake and fly away with it.
no foolin'.
and then a flippin' vulture showed up out of pretty much nowhere,
and followed mr. hawk all over the skies,
hopin' for a fumble of that slithery snack.
it was NOT active participation,
lightning-striking viking style,
but passive aggressive wall(sky?)flower power.
scooplin' up somebody else's well-earned treats?
that's weak-sauce, my ninjas.
but bein' witness to a food chain love triangle?
c'mon.
i mean,
that's pretty dope.
by the way,
the story ended with the scavenger slinking away empty-taloned,
the hawk keepin' it really real,
and the snake wishing st. patrick had cast his a-hole out,
all holy guacamole on the slinky stink end of things,
because that beats being ate the F* up for sure.
ahhhhh, nature.

i'm still opting for live free,
given any choice whatsoever.
a better fate than death awaits us anywhere;
never quiet, never soft.....

May Day.

rabbit, rabbit,
mutha-uckas.
gots to get up on that good luck shout out,
sending the signals that i'm ready,
for whatever the plan has got in the works for my A-hole.
it's the first day of may.
it's may day.
it's beltaine.
it's international worker's rights day.
it's time to dress like a commie
and burn the storefronts of corporate businesses.
or,
it's a day to express great gratitude to the goodness of the woods.
either way,
there will be fire, ya'll.
even though it's raining.
it may be in the form of a blazin' ragin' conflagration,
or simply the hot spit from my flaming lips....
but there will be burnt bits left behind by tomorrow.
today, however,
is a day for enjoying the multifaceted hottness
of the secret universal plan.
and for tattooing.
that's about 51% awesome, anyway....
i mean,
for the first first friday in a little minute,
i'm back at work,
blazing through some zippityzaps.
but,
i'm also meeting with financial advisors,
and accountants,
before i get busy gettin' busy.
i'm trying to determine how deep the unplumbed depths
of my economic situation even go.
that way,
when i take it deeper than ever,
i can at least approximate when i'll hit bottom.
may day may become mayday before i even get to work.
we'll see.

generosity, ya'll.
i've got gratitude ingrained in my bad attitude,
so i'm all set with thanks,
now it's time to get back to work on the giving.
word up.
contributions to my companions and co-conspirators.
i've got a month left up here.
my ninjas should get while the gettin's good,
and get busy alongside me and mine.
that's what generosity is all about.
sharing what i've got,
and where i'm at,
with all ya'll mutha-lickas.
bein' good to my duders out there.
that's some may day goodness right there.

i'm seriously tryin' to live along the lines of the vikings' vows.
livin' as hard and loud as i can.
and making sure that every day goes to eleven.
i'm all about making every day a special occasion.
the occasional and the everyday, even.
spanning time and space,
uncommonly, in every common place,
but never ever commonplace.
consecrating each footfall and tock of the clock,
with berserker barbarian battle-beast benedictions.
i've got a whole day of dopeness,
dourness, delightfulness, and dire doo-doo buttery deeds ahead of me.
i've got the winds of war and change at my back.
and i've got the secret universal plan all around me.
it's all really happening,
and so are we;
never quiet, never soft....