fortyseveneleven.

happy new year, neighbors!
chinese lunar new year jauns are in F*ing full effect.
oh yes they are.
the year of the mutha-'ucking (trouser) snake, kids.
believe it.
i even said rabbit rabbit again, just in case.
true story.
the snow storm couldn't keep new hampshire's woodsly goodfellows
stalled out and stalemated for very long,
so we did what we do, and went back to work.
lucky for me, my duders came and got tattbombed instead of the rednecktards.
score one more for the active participation of my friends.
and speaking of friends-
me and the cucch can seriously get pretty expert in a kitchen.
real talk.
the team up is synergistic every single time.
we cook with the brute force of an army of ovens an' that.
but just how do really real ninjas celebrate new year's eve asia style?
like really real ninjas, of course!
a straight-up from-scratch double batch of baller-A* dumplestiltskins...for your face!
heck yes, y'all.
dumplings!
boiled, steamed, and pan fried for the picky palates and pleasures of me and my peoples.
the activation society yet again got it together
and made our minutes all matter a little bit more.
check the year 4711 teleport:

c'mon!
in true snake-style, we swallowed 'em whole.
oh, stop. we didn't really;
...we took almost two bites per dump.
haha.
seitan and tofu and cabbage and carrots and scallions and celery and onion
and ginger and garlic and black-history pepper and all the spices.
inside of that doughy dopeness hand-cut post-knead by my homeboy.
smart.
and with a garnish of stovetop toasted sesame seeds, in toasted sesame oil?
we put the eleven in 4711, y'heard?
and i'm not bragging or nothin',
but that mirin-laced, rice vinegary ginger-scallion tamari dippin' sauce
was exactly what those pockets of turbo hottness needed
to make 'em just a few notches more elite.
we made fifty some-odd plumpy dumplin's,
and we ate them all according to our individual infinite natures.
(as in: the big kids devoured 'em at a 2:1 ratio)
***********
full bellies and full-hearted feelings, kids.
that's what's up.
my main man bounces back to the southern climes of the seacoast this morning,
and i get back to being by my lonesome all over again.
it's hard styles that seem to keep recurring in the great white mountains,
but they just serve to make the other times that much more expert.
i even maybe made myself a whole new resolution to ring around the new year.
i'll tell you about it sometime.
i am grateful for the time i have been given, guys.
no jokes.
and it's especially the little things-
like family-style dinner and the affection of my activators that really make it all good.
gratitude and generosity, folks.
the best parts.
and we've an overabundance of that sh!t.
lucky for us,
too much is always the precisely right amount.
gluttonous glutinous gooey globs of blarpity blops in our mouths,
and side-by-side-by-side-by-side spanning of the cold long nights.
real life unfolds in unexpected directions.
it's the year of the (trouser)snake.
and with any luck,
and since i double-tapped the rabbit spellspeak again,
that means there will hopefully some slithery sweetness awaiting me in the future.
a better fate than horrifying world-weary loneliness awaits us anywhere.
...and a heaping helping of double-stuffed dumps can only hold me over for so long;
never quiet, never soft.....

what the F* is gluten?

oh, word?
you didn't think that the wonder-twin activation of me and the cucch
could figure out some even newer even fresher hottness?
really?
damn.
you must really be an A*-hole, then.
me and my main man took up the challenge, neighbors.
that's right.
oh.
wait, what do you mean what challenge?
the no-wheat gluten-free vegan macaroon rock-blocks sans-recipe challenge.
duh.
and we dominated it.
obvi.
i mean,
if it'd been a failure, i'd probably have kept it to myself, y'know?
no sense in revealing an even less impressive side to my already limited attributes.
awwwwwww.
c'mon.
anyway,
we toasted coconut, we powdered coconut, we ground our oats,
and we caramelized a whole flippin' bag of brown sugar with a stick of butterish.
when we added in a bag of mini chocolate chips to the still-hot buttery battery blops,
they melted in and made 'em into a dark brown swirly melted super-rad new thing.
that's no jokes, jerks.
without further tantalization, check the teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
another whole 'nother other expert invention, ninjas!
we can just add it to the list of intuitive ingredient interactions, duders.
just some sweet nuthin'-type sumthin' sumthin' for all my peoples out there
who get all glutarded on those wheaty jauns and can't hang out with the aftereffects.
yeah.
*
i'm practicing to make perfect, kids.
slowly but surely,
i'm working on being the best possible version of myself.
and that includes modifying recipes on every level.
disasterpiece masterworks and successful calamities are integral to that process.
i want to be the kind of mutha-'ucker that really real peoples want to be around.
and not just for the flippin' cookies an' that.
it's been a minute since the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress became an autocracy,
and it's working out so far.
...except for those failing and flailing absentee movie checks.
ugh.
it sucks going broke so slowly,
but it'd probably suck worse going bust all at once in a ball-out blast.
ah well,
things that suck fade with time,
and time keeps flying by.
i'm just sayin'-
today is yet another day,
and a whole new snowy blizzard-holed sh!t-hot frozen mess is happening.
it all always really is,
and i'm gonna keep repeating myself until it stops.
(and it never stops)
snowstorms and snowdrifts and windchills and frostbites, my ninjas.
fortyhundred feet of snow can't slow us down, though-
we've got a job to do...
...and this is it;
never quiet, never soft.....

the new fuego.

winter fires are dope, duders.
heck yeah!
and when the activation society gets together
for a wind-chapped little bitty-bit of savage pre-storm barbarian hottness,
it's even flippin' better.
that's a thing.

young teddy turns twenty three today,
so austin came over, and cucch stayed over,
and we all got it together and lit some stuff ablaze to burn away the double-deuces.
while we were at it,
big ol' bags of boxes, and bales of paper and cardboard ALL got fired up.
i mean,
what the F* is recycling anyway?
i'll give you a hint:
....it's a bunch of sh!t that we light on fire!
*
keeping it inflammable keeps it warm and gets it going louder, and fresher,
and harder, too.
we needed to inspire ourselves to the right survivalist mindset for berfdays
and snow barrages and early morning snow removal times.
i think it worked.
it also may have incited some tough-guy-style bro posing.
for realsies.
check the stonehenge arm-wrassle teleport:

ha!
you like that the cucch is blowing up out the back!
(expert)
i was there too, obviously,
but i didn't have the photogenics or long-enough arms to get us all in frame.
so here's a little solo shot for all the ladies out there:

sorry about the face.
it's regrettably the only one i've got.
awwwwwwwwwwwww.
staying ugly comes naturally,
but then again, staying dope does too.
natural affinities and infinite natures.
spades is spades an' that, y'all.
we do what we do.
***********
it's been pretty good around here, neighbors.
i mean it.
an ocean of awesome seems to be sort of surrounding me.
who knew that was gonna happen?
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is the headquarters of my real life;
and it's the warm worthy center of the woodsly goodness in these white mountains.
it's pretty much like an island in the middle of it all.
and it's all really happening.
it's still about these hard styles,
and long nights,
and empty beds,
but it seems to make more sense these days.
so it can't be all bad.
there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything,
it just takes the right kind of confidants and confidence to see it.
like,
i am taking pictures of myself far more regularly.
i didn't realize how few i had until i looked back on the last decade
in twice a year increments of photographic proof.
you'd think all i ever did was smoke cigars by the fire,
and that's more of an exception than a rule...
however,
i still make the same sh!tty face all the time.
check the skewed-hat teleport:

unimpressed, but marginally optimistic, kids.
my squinty smirk is only half half as bad as it was yesterday.
and that's good news, probably.
* 
oh,
and the abominable blizzard wizardry is in full effect.
sitting in snowbanks smoking a pipe and not giving even half a sh!t
is definitely on the menu board as today's specialty.
feet of snow is how we're reppin' this northern extremism,
and i have to tell you guys-
i'm into it.
shoveling and stacking and salting and staying home by the hearth?
all good things.

flame on, mutha-F*ers;
never quiet, never soft.....

no food, just wood.

wood!
that's it, duders.
thatcher mutha-F*ing graves,
and his toolshop at modock millworks did it again.
i told a ninja i needed some super-sexy slabs of hardness,
since i'm on that expert activated bakery-type jauns,
and presentation counts for a whole lot of extra credit...
and oh boy did he ever deliver.
check the checkerboard teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!!
how sexy is a loaf of banana bread gonna look on one of those?
and those are spalted maple coasters up front, y'all.
yep.
coasters.
in a box.
times two.
doubles of everything, because that's the way it is.
and if you come over here thirsty?
i got you, kid.
we aren't leaving rings on sh!t.
unless they're smoke rings, halos, or ripples from the epicenter of infinity.
huh?
i duuno, i'm just sayin'.
***********
also-
a baby!
diaper-land teleport:

sleepy little tiny heads are dope!
i just snuggle the hell out of those little bundles of soft pink helplessness.
i can't even help it.
for real,
check out the spindly weirdie cuddle-time teleport:

awwwww!
how about some of that hetero-lifemate-style adoption action?
uh-huh, i got that too:

did you guys know i get along great with itty-bitty ones?
true story.
little van and i hung out pretty hard for hours today.
and elsah brought us some soup as well as her kid.
good times and hang-outs and overdue interactive participation are good for you.
and so is soup.
duh.
*
i got wood treats and breakfast hookups and fresh pizzas,
and soup and coffees, and even baby-huggin' companionship.
and that's not all, y'all-
the cucch is all up in the woodsly goodness
weathering the storm with me as well.
my ace number one homeboy,
and my homeboys and girls in the mountains,
and maybe even some new ones by the sea?
it's all really happening.
i keep telling you-
my friends are better.
i only say it because it's true.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....

crumb.

hey kids,
it's snowing and grey and pretty cold and busted outside.
i mean, it's winter, after all,
and that's kind of like a thing that happens now, y'know?
yeah.
lucky for me,
my bakey-makey happy homemaker skills have been put to good use,
and i've got stay-warm hearty four layer crumb cake to keep me safe.
or make me fat.
or fill the hole inside my body where companionship is supposed to be.
what's up?
oh, well, yeah, that's definitely kind of a bummer,
but it works out for the best once the oven is preheated, i promise.
that's right, neighbors.
i'm gonna make friends with my treats,
and then i'm gonna eat my friends.
awwwwwwwwwww.
*
i did just say i had crumb cake, didn't i?
it's crumby, but not crummy... in fact, it's expert!
check the teleport, y'all:

c'mon.
graham-cracker crust on the bottom,
pre-baked to a firm and sweet foundation of brownulated buttery baller-A* base-layer
for my apple-liscious castle of cake to be built on.
i doo-doo that cinnamon-spiced granny smith sh!t, yo.
real talk, i pared and cored and cooked a whole batch of green monsters,
and added 'em on top of the pie-style jauns underneath.
yuuuuuuup.
and when i made my vegan-sour-creamy weirdie cake layer,
i even added in some pulverized baked-granny smith apple flour.
well,
i made 'em into flour, but they came to the party dressed like this:

weirdie chips for weirdie cake, ninjas.
that's what's up.
and then i hit up some melted-buttery cinnamon coffecake-type streusel on top.

a freshly-dug grave, duders.
that's what it reminded me of.
ummmm.
okay,
moving on- it is just what the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress needed
to energize and infuse the rooms with new hottness.
***********
'maybe the best cupcake i've ever eaten'
true story, b!tches.
teddy told me so, straight from his own mouth, and that's no jokes.
right after the blueberry jizzle from yesterday's single-serving of purple
hit his eagerly anticipating tastebuds.
once again, he and austin came over.
and the activation society youtube movie night got underway.
what can i tell you?
we eat treats and try to stay warm and watch stuff on a laptop.
which means that we can have fun doing ANYthing.
it's how you make it, not where you make it.
...and we're here, making moments matter.
i kind of like this new interactive participation situation.
mutual respect and enjoyment, professional appreciation,
scalding skaldic warrior poetic real-life storytelling documentarianism.
all of it.
if i didn't know better,
i'd almost say that things are looking up,
('cause you know we're getting down.)
productive like japan an' that;
never quiet, never soft.....

cups.

chocolate is still good for you, duders.
and i've got the most heroic tapioca-activated chocolate cakey cups
over here waiting for hungry mouths to munch 'em up.
uh-huh.
i'm just doing what i do, y'know?
and what i doo-doo is some seriously rad kitchen-type freaky sh!t.
word up.
i'm upping my bakery-style expert active participation
by a full order of magnitude.
there will be cake, mutha-lickers.
lots of it, even.
today that means it's this type of thing, for starters:

yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
big ol' pots of simmering berries is how i get busy.
fresh o.j. and vanilla and brown sugar make for some complex compote.
we wouldn't want it to be weak-sauce, now would we?
no way...but these things take time, kids-
seriously.
all day long, standing over the stove,
making fruit get hot.
but eventually,
there is a cohesive plan that comes together to make this sort of stuff:

F*ing right!
that IS blueberry frosting, my ninjas.
with heart-shaped sprankles.
a next-level interpretation of the new hottness, for sure.
yeah, neighbors,
i guess i am bringing the thunder.
i mean, it's not like i'm busy doing anything else.
that purple-magic frosting mostly just tastes like frosting,
even though it's got so much blueberry jauns all up in it.
oh well.
it does get better though.
real talk.
i'm changing up what going to eleven entails, kids.
before i hit up the sugary smearface on those ninjas heads,
i stuffed some of that gooey gloppy delicious mess deep within the chocolate.
(that's what she said?)
check the raised-bar high-standards teleport:

F*ing right, son!
extra fancy, and incredibly tasty.
*
how do i close out an epic day of baking and bonding with my peoples?
with a super-'sgusting bachelor burger, of course!
check the raging-slabs of vegan gaytardation teleport:

gross?
maybe a little.
the spinach should count for something, though, no?
believe me, an in-focus picture would improve nothing about that at all.
and i do this to myself, mutha-b!tches.
no one else would wish that much harm on me.
well.....maybe a few people, but they sure as heckfire aren't here!
haha.
***********
it's worth mentioning that gratitude and generosity are always the way to go.
and you all already know i appreciate the hell out of that sort of virtue.
yep.
my very close friends amanda and kelly hit me off with a substantially awesome
Fortress-worthy house re-warming present today!
so dope.
i'm so thankful for the end results of this hard-fought year of doo-doo buttery crappiness.
on the ones, y'all.
the people who choose to be a part of my life are exactly the people i needed.
it's al really happening.
the hot fire elitism and savage barbarian berserker furious warrior poetry
of good folks and real life.
i hope i'm not jinxing anything when i say:
i feel pretty mutha-F*ing lucky these days';
never quiet, never soft.....7x50

panniecakes.

and i'm still always in all ways all by my all-alonely,
and i still totally hate it.
in fact,
i can't really think of much else to remark upon.
so much so that i think that it's become a widely recognized fact of life,
and i'm a sallow and shoddily stoic shell when left to tend and fend
for just myself and for my little stinky imbecilic four-legged best friend, too.
i constantly crave conversations.
one way dialogue is fine, for sure,
but that's more of a lecture and not a discussion.
it might be a rant or a diatribe, even, but not a two-way exchange.
and a conversation without a companion,
where i'm answering aloud to unspoken responses?
i'm pretty sure that's what crazy people do.
y'know?
oh.
yeah, i had a feeling you might say that......
awwww, man!
oh, c'mon.
i've got people to talk to in real life,
just not in the small hours and private corners-
but,
if nothing else,
my friends are still better than yours.
that's real.
for instance,
my homeboy wayne came over and checked in on me.
that's pretty sweet.
awwwwwwww.
my peoples give a sh!t about me, huh?
i appreciate it more than i can really say or write.
i suppose that's the problem with hyperbole, y'know?
it's always the most ever;
every time is more of a time than last time,
and this time is the only time that matters.
when you're always going to eleven,
it's awfully hard to express oneself with excessive sincerity
and sound even remotely sincere.
anyway,
i really do feel pretty lucky about all the overlapping concentric spheres
of influence that converge around me like a mandala of just-be-dopeness.
yep.
radiating rays of symbolic sunshine-type sh!t is unfolding from the deep creases
and crevices and dark, dirty secretive recesses of the world i reside in.
wait a minute.
that's more metaphysical diaperbabyism than i can handle.
to recap:
wayne checked in on my fraught and fragile self,
and i repaid him for his concern with breakfast.
check the championship activational teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
let it be known that i pay my debts, duders.
both real and imagined, even.
reciprocity is kind of my thing.
what i lack in monetary hoards i more than make up for with skills and skillets.
that's right-
panniecakes, neighbors.
oatmeal, and vanilla, and melty buttery stuff,
blended with blops of brown sugar to get molto expert all over the rich and creamy
caramel style circles on pan-powered cakey new hottness.
i doo-doo that maple syrup-type jauns, too...
because i'm from new england, and that's the only way to get fresh.
recognize.
***********
then,
just to re-energize my big fat former shark-gluttonous self,
i hit up a throwback to my previous fatness in tribute with tortillas and everything.
uh-huh.
i got nacho libre on my F*ing face, kids.
check the food-mountainous teleport:

ugh.
so much of all of it.
and i powered every last scrap of that crap into my head.
yeah.
seitan and black beans and fire-roasted chiles and weird chee',
and two kinds of sauce.
sometimes,
it's good for you to hurt yourself.
i mean,
at least this way has got the eagle-egg-type vegan nutrients, y'feel me?
*
long days and longer nights.
cold weather, cold shoulders,
and cold hard facts.
it's all there is,
and it's really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

taking back sunday.

duders,
i will NOT be watching the superbowl.
as usual.
stoopidbowl sunday holds no interest for me.
clever commercials, musical travesties, buffalo wings, light beer,
NONE of that is what i crave, neighbors.
so for the umpteenth time, in a row, i'm abstaining from giving even half a sh!t.
however,
i am so easy.
just like sunday morning, y'all.
y'know what always makes me feel better, every single time?
uh-huh.
spending money.
how could it not? especially since i'm so good at it.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress will be refilled,
and this time,
as per the benevolent dictatorship it has become,
only one vision of the new hottness needs to be considered.
and that's mine, kids.
no committee, no discussion, no opinions at all.
mine all mine all mine.
*
it's all really happening.
day one-
master bedroom reclamation.
word the F* up.
master and commander bedroom, more like.
believe it.
too long i've languished in the serial killer-style extra-rapey extra guest room.
no more of that weak-sauce, my ninjas.
in fact,
i just went out and activated some expert new bedtime bits.
i mean, c'mon,
what am i?
an A*-hole?
no way.
i will bankrupture the treasury before i do without what i'm due,
and that's long overdue, too, duders.
yep.
check out this new hot sheet-sh!t:

uhmmmmm.
freshly made with fresh new ingredients.
i'm pretty sure that's what's up.
i rep a high thread count, my ninjas.
and at least three kinds of blankets at any given time.
if we add in some big fluffy flippin' new pillows, too?
all of a sudden, i'm excited to hit the hay.
***********
the activation society is sure stepping up it's lightning-striking
viking virtuosity and worthy warrior poetic value system implementation.
that's a thing.
no, for real.
my dudes have been steady keeping vigil on my semi-stable mindstate,
and donating night after night to keeping it real and keeping me company.
and i am grateful for these friends.
for serious.
it's a well-oiled ecosystem of active participation, gratitude and generosity,
and late night bro-hangs with hard-styled hip-hop soundtrack attacks.
we doo-doo that intervention-type freshness.
it's good.
*
...and i'm doing laundry.
uh-huh.
it's true.
the ever-loving end of the old bustedness is assuredly complete,
and i've never felt it more than whilst pouring detergent into the washer.
i can only hope that tomorrow is as fluid as today.
every day is like sunday?
i can live with that;
never quiet, never soft.....

B.H.M.

don't think i'm sleepin', suckas.
every morning,
i'm up early getting ghetto from the get go.
uh-huh.
check the B.H.M. teleport:

yuuuuuup.
let's get free, neighbors.
stay gold.
stay black.
stay with me;
never quiet, never soft.....

decade.

holy F*ing sh!t, duders-
i spent the last year being a huge flippin' diaper baby.
heartbreak! self-improvement! dedication! ruin! drama! everlasting waking human tragedy!
a runaway trainwreck of ups and downs and motivated move-making.
turns out, one move was all it ever really took.
damn.
i'm tired.
that's over and done with, no dignity in denying it.
i'm not especially happy about any of it,
but i guess we all have to realistically look at the actions that have always
spoken louder than the muted and diluted uncommunicative whispers that
supplanted active participation within these hallowed halls of the hottness.
what i mean is-
the final ballot has been cast,
and the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress will respect the results.
i have been diminished, but i didn't vanish,
so i suppose it's time to start over again.
...again.
not exactly an uplifting concession speech, huh?
a whole year of all that sincerity and scarred, scared true storytelling.
jeez,
i can't believe you guys stuck with it.
thanks.
real life documentarianism doesn't write the script, y'know?
every game has a loser.
this time it's me.
***********
today is the day, mutha-'uckers,
and it's gonna be a big brutal batch of blarpity crap.
there's no denying or escaping that truth...
however,
it's also the first day of a whole new era.
probably an era of epic-level tragic loneliness,
and maybe even some misanthropic nihilism,
but also of totally getting back to my roots as a worthy warrior poet
keeping it really real in the woodsly goodness..
uh-huh.
i mean it, and besides-
it's groundhog day, neighbors!
and the sun is out.
and i see shadows everywhere, too.
but that's not the only reason today is the day, folks.
no way.
it's also the anniversary of my nile-style plummet into obscurity.
huh?
yeah, i said it: i flow north, my ninjas,
and i have done for a whole sunovamotherb!tchin' decade.
ten years, y'all.
in a row.
today.
fitting, right?
a fresh start from scratch on the same day,
three thousand six hundred and some-odd days later?
and i sure have got more to work with compared to
what i migrated in the wrong direction with the first time.
i mean it.
and i almost can't believe it.
there's some sh!t-salad symmetry in this mirror-imaged role-reversal.
ten fucking years!
(and you know i don't usually let the expletives run pure)
so what if i wasted them all on the wrong things?
so what if i've got next to nothing to show for it?
so we'll just call it even,
and take it up a nother 'nother notch on it's way to eleven.
i mean, there's only ever just two options,
and we know who chose which one, don't we?
just sayin'- i'm still right here.
so it's pretty dang clear who keeps it poppin',
and who F*s right off the list.
awwwwwwwwwwwww.
ten years of all of this;
i am grateful for the time i have been given.
i don't even really know why.
but, good or bad, and ugly, it's all really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

...rabbit...rabbit...

wake up wake wake up!
it's the first of the month,
get up get up get up so cash yo checks and get up.
that's right, my ninjas-
february is here.
do you know what that means, y'all?
yeah.
oh, don't worry your minky little faces, friends-
i said it.
hmmm?what do you mean 'said what'?
oh, c'mon, now, don't be dumb.
RABBIT RABBIT.
...duh.
my monthly magic word, doubled-up and down,
and spit out into the atmosphere with aplomb and ill-omened good intentions.
that's a thing, kids.
we'll see what kinds of cosmic kismet it summons up from the secret universal plans,
a tantamount tantric magic mantra, in duplicate, duders
i'm not much for hoping, kids,
but something more expert than this last lamentably lambasted year
has just gotta be coming this way sooner or later.
because otherwise,
i'm just some self-immolated idiot who gave it all up and ran out of juice,
wasting away the days and weeks and months
and mutha-F*ing years on imaginary friends.
holy sh!t.
what-whaaaaat?
check the rabbit-holey teleport:

thank goodness for those honeyed eyes, huh?
(the shutter on my camera is broken, too.)
i might actually be a crazy person.
they say if you're worried, you probably aren't,
but what if you're a self-aware self-deluding narcissist?
uh-huh-
i'm just saying i'm a little itty bit tricky,
and could probably fake it, just to reassure myself i don't have it.
'cause if i know i'm faking, i must not be afflicted, y'heard?
kinda like tourette's and bob wiley.
anybody?
no?
oh well-
all these true stories, neighbors.
they aren't always easy to tell.
but they are all always really happening.
***********
this place is F*ed up.
home is where the heart is, but also where the house is,
and moreover, where all your stuff is.
goddammit.
this place was filled up to the flippin' brim with the treats and treasures
that i'd gathered and gifted since forever.
gilded and glutted and hoarded hottness, stacked and packed into all the places.
it sure as sh!t looks different without it, i'll tell you what.
i guess that's the problem with a generous nature, ninja-
you give it up, and then it goes away.
awwwwwwwww.
and it's ALL gone.
bye-bye.
exorcised and excoriated, vanished and vanquished;
there's a great big empty collection of rooms left behind.
wide open spaces inside enclosed places.
actually,
now it just looks exactly like it's felt for some time.
Folk Life & Liberty, liberated and looted and left for dead.
haha.
take it easy, friends.
it's only my youth, my hair, and my singular focus that have disappeared.
awwwwwwwwwww.
i still have my infinite nature and my considerable skills.
which account for approximately zero percent desirability in these here hills.
.............yeah.
so,
every day has been the worst one, for a good long while,
but today is THE day, in point of fact.
the nadir of adversarial anniversary activation, kids.
it's the last day of a lot of things,
but it's also the brink of the absolute new hottness.
real life continues to surprise me,
mostly by virtue of how it all keeps happening all the time.
i guess that's just how it goes.
*
rabbit rabbit, kids.
i said it, and i meant it, and i'm ready for what's next-
unless it is something even suckier,
and if so,
i would like just a small break if only to get prepared for the big action;
never quiet, never soft.....