Fascination, confusion, a lovely conundrum
That’s what little humans are made of.
Tomorrow, today, who cares? Let’s just play!
A love of the now we’re all made of.
The notions. The rot. The wish we forgot.
It’s all, sadly, just a bit that we’re made of.
All promise – all shame – all the pride and the blame.
And there should be no shame.
All’s what we’re made of.
After karaoke tonight, a lumberjack looking dude was standing outside. Lumberjack looking, not sounding; in sound, he was half duck dynasty, half mumbling like a stroke victim.
The bits I did understand involved him calling me (half Norwegian, half Russian, over six feet of pale awesome) “a dumb nigga standing too narrow”. That’s a nearly direct quote, I haven’t got the letters to get it exactly. I, like the doofus I am, stood there and watched it happen; why not? Threats have never hurt me before. And, usually, when I get punched it hurts them more than me, literally. I sting a bit, they nurse the knuckles which hit exactly wrong.
That was when his two black roommates and friends came out to help him out of the bush he’d fallen into while trying to threaten me, picked him up, and got him on his way.
O humanity! Does your ridiculous beauty have a limit? If not, can I buy the exclusive video rights?
Should I hate or love a world where this happens?
Okay, yeah, my vote is for love. Duh. Shut up.
Love you too. Never stop being master-fucking-tastically yourself. I expect nothing less.
Except for you, Glenn. You’ve been wholly disappointing. …Not really, you’re kinda sweet too.