the warm around my neck

there is no crushing fury of snow, no great labour of the morning. there is life, love, happiness, and the pursuit of great big little things to come.

the days treat me well, i cant argue, i put all my eggs in one basket, and they made it across the country safely.

im not saying some hard times arent in the midst, come on now, poppa's gotta hustle a little pussy for the sake of a dime, and he will.

so i hustle, or at least i try.

its something ive never quite caught onto though, i mean, ive always scraped by, and i always will, somehow. but homeboy just doesnt get down with the shameless self promotion needed to get the daily dough cruising through the door.

todays inspiration is having a neck warmed with knit love, and the uncanny ability to make a dollar out of 18 cents.

thats where i am, 18 cents, an odd little number with a long way to go, not quite sure if hes gonna get there, but damned sure hell be worth a helluva lot more when hes done.

maybe im a hater, maybe i just dont get down with the cool kids getdown. im content being a little fish with the god damned pimpest pond this side of the mighty Mississippi.

so yeah, theres that.

as a bit of an aside ive been going for decompression therapy for my back , which really isnt working, just sort of stretching out the itty bits that make me twitch, so there are injections, and surgery on the horizon, way to make dope so much doper.

anyway, my little knife and i are whittling a nitch in the center of texas, planting seeds,picking up puppy shit, and feeling all around , a little less oppressed by the man.

findings yo, and thats just my neck

three is the magic number

33, on the 13th, son. take a hearty bite cause its friday, and that, goes to 11. a day for celebration worldwide. the day of venus, 13 motherfuckers at the table, you see now?

spellcheck once again mocks me.

today is the day i separate myself, just a little more from the pots and pans. take a nice look at what was, and will be.

is , is not an option.

perpetual motion.

this day, i gift myself a simple life, folk life. the idea might now be my own, but its certainly doesnt belong to anyone else either,

the whole point.

were making additions

today my inspiration is the love put into a homemade gift, and the fact that i have reached another birthday

sadatay my duders,
a little late night cyber loving, just to say that the lady and i have reached the great state of texas safe and sound. we rocked through the south for a few days, and now call austin home. for those of you that gets down with the get down (this includes lurkers, no i dont have a huge ego,google analytics tells me youre out there typing in my name) i can be found laying down the sickest of tatties at Shaman modifications. and you can reach me at 609 647 4695 to make an appointment for some of the folk style artsy goodness.

my words are true, but i often mumble, so heres the skinny.
i now live in austin texas, with a woman that i love dearly, who absolutely astonishes me every day. i work at shaman modifications on ben white blvd, a wonderful studio that is home to some of the greatest talent the city has to offer (not to mention , downright good people) , i am quite happy to work alongside them. i am an experienced artist working in a new city at an awesome studio, so you should come find me there, or call me, and be counted among the ranks of those in the know.

in conclusion, things have come together, its time for baby making,loving of life, and living free.ive worked hard to get where i am, and i am at every moment, grateful for what i have been given.

today brew and view, and a dope 38 bought for someone's mom will be my inspitation
sleep well

at what point exactly does a bad day become a good night? its as if the day was a steady diet of chicken fried rice, and hate in my heart.

hell, the cookies didnt even have anything nice to say, and those tasty little treats  are the go to motherfuckers for a bad day.

my inspiration for today will be the stegomonster and a journey that starts in 12 hours, give or take.

i get mail, and for the most part, i simply discard it, the gold star for mail of the day goes to a nice little letter announcing itself, "you are being sued" , that one went to the lawyer , not the trash. its over 32 dollars. sick fucks i tell you.

what kind of degenerate motherfucker would sue a person over thirty two dollars you ask?

a hospital, thats the kind. if you havent noticed, or had the pleasure of being in a hospital recently, you might not know, that now every agent of the facility bills you separately, straight down to the intake.

yes

the people hat sign you in, when you come rushing in after a car accident apparently get thirty two dollars for their service of taking your name, and then jamming the shitdick dry and swift in every orifice you make available. 

once again, spellcheck makes me aware that shitdick is not a word, oh what a love/hate relationship we have. any reading this will be my witness, when i pass from this earth, i want to leave the steaming pile of death shit in my pants to spellcheck. please dont deny me my final wish , please tell me youll give too spellcheck its just desserts. afterall, it is a tool oiled by the flaws of everyone that enables it.

im convinced that spellcheck is on its way to world domination, with a little aid from wal-mart, and dems.

another piece of mail i received was a rather  discreet  envelope containing clutch tickets, and for this i tell myself that i might bring back a bit of the good old days, and do it up right. i might not turn eight shades of purple and vomit in my shoe, but i will be damned sure rock some old school justice .

speaking of justice, and witnesses,really,

can i get one.

i was recently told in detail what an epic piece of shit i am,  full of hot doo doo butter full auto style.

but i do like the old school, and rise above. for sure, i have my moments,but im not exactly the fellow i used to be. ive grown, ive accepted my faults, and im going to great lengths to be the best me i possibly can. now if that wasnt some uber gay posi type shit, i dont know what is, i try you know.

 

i am a patient boy,

and i have faith that shots fired will end up with someone getting a nice shit sammich to the back of the head. after it comes around that is.

im all jazzed for some fresh spring goodness complete with hikes, wine and cheese , new scenery, and the best of company.

im pulling out the umbrella and making my way, splashing in every puddle that will have me.

i am grateful

what the fuck is "half gay" anyway? i mean,you either put the cock in your mouth or you dont,right?

yeah,i spell shit all improper like, i dont punctuate the motherfuckers like i should, could, or would.
cause thats not how i get down

im tired of

stress
"shotgun " hairstyles
bills
un responsive motherfuckers
cool phrases like "the skin ofmy teeth"
negativity

i mean, if you will it, it will cometrue right,
isnt that the gift or some of the like shits

people everywhere just willing their lives to be shit, cause if its that easy, ive done alot of willing, and my hole is getting deeper with shitbird bastards shoveling more and more on top of me as the days pass.

im in the ladies living room

everytime i sit on this futon, and look around, the room seems emptier and emptier
there are few things that make me happy with the passing days, but this is one of them

i dont believe that a simple change in scenery is the answer to all that troubles me, ive seen the other side of the fence, and they have dogshit in their yard too
i do believe that i have given all there is to give to this part of my life, and its given nothing back

thats all i can do right? live to eleven? and hope that the times can keep up with me
if i live my moments with a passion in my life, an understanding of things the way they should be, rather than the way they are, i feel like im still at least a half step ahead of things

ive put a down payment on my future
so that one day i might be able to break out all the love letters and little notes left on the fridge, to remind me of what i have

my daily affirmations are a reminder that there is love in every direction, so that i might not be so blinded by whats in front of me

so yeah

thats my pondering on half gay

today its zig zag 1 1/4 papers and finding long black hair on my clothes that is my inspiration.

i am an active participant, i am not some asshole on the side of the road with my thumb out

i promise...to be a threat to myself and others. i swear by diminished capacity. i guarantee that this will hurt, you.
but for today, i will use coming home and crippling emotional pain (that might be trademarked,not sure) as my inspiration.
i am indeed foxing with it,
ima do do that freaky shit, til i can get down with the get down.
yes, i talk this way,
yes,
there is a lisp,
(the impediment for all you programming geeks.)
yes,
i aint skered
and im sure as fuck not mr boombastic. but i am well built.

ive got tickets,
theres travel coming up, and the move before the move is happening,
like nowish,
actually, not even the ish. id put money on something being hammered into a wall right now,
anchored,positioned, fastened, propped and primped.

roots? not really, just a bigger pot.


thats room enough for me

home invasion, thats some real deal shit son. like some next level, other other type shit. like the shit that happened to me today. yeah, really.

some days you just have to ask yourself, fuck, what could bring me down more today, ?

oh shit, i know, coming home from work, to find your ladyfriends dress hanging on your doorknob. on the outside of the door, as in, in the hallway.

so heres the scene,

i had an exceptional deep taking sort of day, with a lot of dems , a few of those, and not enough of these. it lacked stacks and cheddah, and was full to the brim with american history x scenes. so i called it a blockbuster night, loaded up with some gummi bears and headed home to lick my wounds. 

but oh, whats this, a dress, hanging from my doorknob. 

why is it there?  is this perhaps a surprise visit from the sweet sugar momma that rocks a hard pounding style like no other.

 no, maybe it was accidentally left in the laundry, and some good samaritan decided to return it on my door , ? 

so many questions, and calls later, and i still have no answers.

the dress does indeed belong to the above mentioned young lady,

but heres where the trouble starts,

it was placed safely in the wardrobe INSIDE my loft, yesterday, and i havent moved it since.

how could it possibly have made it to its new resting place?

hmmmmmmm a question for the ages, or something a little more simple?

basically, someone with a key, decided that it was in their best interest to enter my scene, 'i dont know, maybe spend some time reminiscing?, ' look through my jawns, and then upon exit, leave me a little hint that they were there.

why? 

to rupture my shit, possibly get a rise out of me , hope that the maniac eyes arent just bullshit, and id fly off the handle or something. but i didnt, instead i decided to do what any self respecting man with num nums tattooed on his fingers would do,

i called maintenance to have the locks changed, and then called to police to file a report.(oh yeah, and blog about it)

harassment ?

 yeah im pretty sure it is,

childish ? 

without a doubt

shit is ill, and had best hasten itself

and essentially that shit will not stand

today, electronic love notes and the poh poh will be my inspiration,as they have served me well.

so now for some other type shit (note, single other)

my loft is starting to feel comfortable, like it is aware of the impending domestic bliss to come.

my neighbors? still cold saucy cunts that make loving that goes to three, burn everything once edible, and stomp around like gorillas presenting themselves.

have you no shame

you might not understand a lot of what i wrote above, and thats okay, some people dont get it, fuck, some people just cant read,

the basic idea ?

get fucked, and take yer shitty neck with you , cause i sure as hell dont appreciate you looking at mine