Alpha-Omega and The Blueberry Gang.

That power so total and full of greed,
had finally commenced the awful deed.
And in his hands he had twirled,
the harrowing fate of my dear world.
And He, (being the start and end),
did doom to my brethren send.

And after my race had he made sod,
through their ashes he did trod.
And sat, triumphant, on his throne.
Two beds, high stacked, and white as bone.
And looking over my world he bade,
     "This light so bright. Be darkness made!"

So light did vanish, earth did wither,
no chirp of life, not even a slither.
Through every street, in every home,
dark did creep, and death was sown.
The only survivors did sit and weep,
for they had only their dead to keep.

But one was silent, and did not cry.
The last hope of man, stirred in his eye.
And in the dark he thought of when,
we would take our world again.
He called on brothers, and sisters to rise,
and battle the foe who brought our demise.

And from the caves of earth did creep,
a rebellion force, within the deep.
And out onto the field of battle,
with club, sword, stick, and paddle.
Fighting back for what they lost.
Saving the world at any cost.

The Omnipotent laughed at the force,
to be crushed with ease of course.
And from his throne he began,
to strike down with fire across the land.
Feeding his beast with strong a gale,
Engulfing the rebels in fiery veil.

But this did not yet stop their heart,
for they had not yet played their part.
Their leader pushed onward for his dream.
His might unmatched, his sword a'gleam.
But this tale has more dismay,
for one of the light did betray.

She crawled on off to join the power,
She fought against, that very hour.
For in her hopes she held a dream,
of being the darkest, highest queen.
And so the Master took her in,
and the end of the war did begin.

Now his eyes were everywhere,
had now a spy to do his stare.
Many a good soul was taken,
Ones left fought harder, and held unshaken.
And then it happened then and there!
The rebel leader jumped forth in air.

Raising up his sword he bade,
      "Dark thrown back, and brightness made!"
Enemy thrashed out to counter the blow,
and our hero, his blade did throw.
And the war grew pinnacle in that time.
And the sky slowly, let forth its shine.

In past the arm, that meant to block.
In through his heart it sent a shock.
The metal tip it did pierce,
the very heart of Him so fierce.
And the Dark then fell from his seat.
His strength so great!
Now was beat...

And so goes the tale, as they say.
And even now in this modern day,
I still remember way back when,
the earth was wild and dark back then.
And you people today, so carefree,
Living in a world given to thee.

Yes its true, I was actually there.
You couldn't tell, me here in this chair.
Old and wrinkled and full of dust.
My life most spent, my skin a crust.
But I remember, when the heavens sang,
of "Alpha-Omega and The Blueberry Gang"

I Took A Ride On The Polar Express.

Waking up in the cold is the worst. No, starting over. Waking up in the cold with an obligation to leave your warm and toasty bed is the worst. So I did. Work at 11. Tip toe to the bathroom, steam it up, ruba-dub-dub. Dive cold and shivering into my work clothes and then take one last look at my freezing apartment knowing that before I open the front door this will be the warmest place I'm in for the next 2 hours  (my commute to work).
 Down the stairs and into the street. Everyone bundled up to the point of only being able to manage an Oompa-loompa waddle. Meanwhile I'm in a fall jacket with bare hands, thin slacks, and sneakers. My eyelashes click when I blink.
The Subway stairs gleam with sanctuary, the only way out of the wind. Then my 12 second wait in line through the turnstile and there I wait for my train in the terminal. The first of 4. Commutes to work in the morning in NYC are downright sad. Millions of people waiting for their trains down in the terminals. You can see those who have lost themselves to their work, buzzing away on the cell-phone and reading over clip boards, completely stressed and unhappy with the job they do so well. Then there are those who you can plainly see do the scum of the earth work. The wear and tear is easy enough to spot. Laundry women, construction workers, dock workers, garbage men. Then theres MY class of the workforce. Bussers, doormen, cab-drivers, store clerks. Restaurant host... All of us thinking of the same thing though. Is this it? Is this life for me? Will I be staring at the clean shiny rails rise out of the wet, grimy, sludge filled subway tracks for 5 minutes waiting for the G train to drag me to my job every morning for the rest of my life? Those thoughts interrupted by the brakes throwing you and everyone else off balance. Then the battle to get upstairs to the connection hall from the G to the E & M first so you can be able to use the escalator walk before anyone else. Which everyone participates strongly in, whether they would admit it or not. The terminal waiting for the E or M at Ely Ave in the morning rush hours is possibly the most stereotypically depressing "working poor" vista anyone could peer out over. Thousands of people crammed up against each other waiting for their train. Its sad. Quiet. Those thoughts coming back stronger then ever. Is this it?
But today as I waited with my working brothers and sisters, something very unexpected happened. A train pulled up. But it wasn't the M. Or the E. It was a pitch black train, with a flat top. Not cold and stony with sleek dips and curves. But sharp edges with fat bolts lining the corners. And it pulled to a loud screechy halt in front of the quiet and now very puzzled crowd. Is it a work train? Is it one of those trash trains that go by during the late night hours? But its rush hour. And it stopped? Are those people inside behind the windows? Yes there were. And when the doors opened and to let us in we still didn't make the slightest move. A conductor dressed in a vintage 1950's train employees uniform leaned out of the last car and yelled "SAAAAME AS THE M TRAIN! NEXT STOP--- LEXINGTON AVENUE!!". 3 thousand people with dropped mouths held onto their brief cases and coffee cups while they stood and stared at him. Still motionless. He only looked slightly amused before adding "ALL ABOOOOOOOORED!" You've got to be kidding me? We all broke out of our trance and made like little kids entering the play ground at McDonald's. The interior wasn't white and cold, lit by long blurred panels, like a normal train. But lit by actual light bulbs lining the ceiling, filling each car with a warm orange glow. Ceiling fans hung up in the center of the cars ceiling. Springy fat couches with red leather upholstery lined the walls in place of the cold plastic benches that normal sat in their place waiting to flatten out our rears.  In place of the Viagra and HBO adds that cover the high parts of the walls were Cola and Dapper Dan. These and just about about everything else on the train was different. Inside a man stood in each car explaining how things worked with the subways in the 50s and 60s and pointed out funny or quirky details. But hardly anyone sat around to listen. Everyone's face literally was lit up with a grin, even the old, bent businessmen ran with the others from car to car whipping out their cameras with everyone else. People calling friends about it, everyone taking pictures or video, bouncing on the springy couches, reading the adds, asking the older people on the train about how it was when they were a kid. And the old people in return excitedly retelling memories about how things use to be, flashes of nostalgia across their expressions as they gazed over the trains inside. It broke down halfway to Lexington and took close to 20 minutes to get working again. A 20 minute break down during rush hour? Any other day that would have people shouting for blood. But not today. That only meant more time to forget their troubles, the slaving job ahead of them, as they pranced around their playground, their ghost train. All that was missing was a conductor walking through the aisles with trays of hot coco.
As for me? I eventually sat down and stopped looking at the train, but the people in it. Wow. How very different. Excited, happy... interested. Well I had to hand it to The Big Apple. It had done it this time. And on this particularly sad and cold morning I had already passed some very final and (now I can see) very ignorant judgment. If there's one thing this city is good at, its making things happen. Someone had a neat idea. And they went for it, and it happened. Hey! Lets take one of our old trains from the 60s and dress her back up. Have a few good boys pop the hood and make sure shes up to it, then run her for a weekend or something. Give people something to see. Something different.
Well that's why I'm here isn't it? I had an idea and now I'm trying to make it happen. That's why I brought it to the city. THIS city.

A Thanksgiving Letter (to my brother)

Dear Sam,
 If you didnt eat all you possibly could...
 If you didnt decimate your entire plate...
 If you didnt cram mama' Lou's good ol' cooking down your happy fat throat...
 If you didnt lick up every taint of purple cranberry sauce on your plate and bread crumb off your napkin...
 If you didnt shove the elderly mercilessly on to the ground and small children out of your hungry, rampaging path when going for seconds, thirds... eighths...
 If you didnt stare that turkey leg in the eye with your battle fork and knife in hand and tell it in your best Clint Eastwood voice, "It's goin' down. A'yippy-kai-yai-yay..."...
 If you didnt gnash, growl, and fight over the buttery rolls as if they were the secret to life...
 If you didnt conquer enough chow to have to drop trow...
 If you didnt leave the pie scene similar to a Hiroshima aftermath...
 If you didnt eat mashed potatoes till it came out your nose and ears like your head was a play-dough factory...
 If you didnt stuff stuffing until you ripped lightning and crapped thunder...
 If you didnt eat like some type of savage wild animal, like you just got out of a 4 hour school seminar, like your soul purpose was to disgust those who sat next to you... as if the whole wide world was about to explode and the only way to save it was to jack-ram fodder into your skull hole like Mr. Bumstead himself...

Then you must be crazy. Because all I'M having for thanksgiving is a load of PB&J's... all by myself... because thats all I can afford to eat and I feel some moral obligation to eat a large amount on the afternoon of that day....

So yeah. Happy Thanksgiving bro!
---Love--- Jake

Unforgettable Movie Scenes.

So here's some unforgettable movie scenes, whether they be funny, touching, uncanny at pulling you in, or just plain epic.
 (There is no specific order, I'm just listing them as they come to me.)

-The singing on the beach with a ukulele scene from "The Jerk"

-The scene from "Lord Of The Rings" where the signal for aid from one kingdom to the next is being lit.

-The scene from "Whats Eating Gilbert Grape?" where Gilbert calls Arnie down from the water-tower by talking through the megaphone and saying "match in the gas tank, boom boom"

-The fight scene between Sam and that black dude in "Inception" where the hotel room is spinning inside his dream, inside his dream of him sleeping in the back of a falling van.

-The scene in the "Matrix" where Neo is in the hallway with the 3 agents at the end and finally "figures it all out".

-The scene in "Back To The Future" where Marty McFly plays Johnny B. Good.

-The scene in "Jurassic Park" where the T-Rex thrashes the last of the raptors and lets out his roar for the last time as the banner falls from the ceiling and around its massive body (always gives me goose bumps)

-The scene where Quigley is left for dead in the desert and shoots that dude off the wagon as he is trying to get away in "Quigley Down Under"

-The scene in "Silverado" where Jake steps out of the saloon and calls "hey!" to the 2 bad guys right before he shoots them.

-The part in "Ace Vantura: Pet Detective" where he is told that his future clients are prepared to pay him 60,000 dollars to take the job and he comes out of his meditation saying "reeeeeeeeeeeeeee-heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeealy?"

-The "It's not your fault" scene in "Good Will Hunting"

-The scene in "The Fugitive" where he jumps off the dam.

-The scene in "Man From Snowy River" where he goes off the edge of the drop with his horse. 

-Where in "When Harry Met Sally", Harry says, "And once you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible!"


(add more later)

Inner Cloister

Had I gone by day, instead of by this black night?
Well it might have turned out right.
But this life is not about my could-have-dones or would-have-beens,
or where my conscience ends.
And now when the sun rises on this open hall,
with skeletons and ghostly vats, this gray and hellish skull...

And this Inner-Cloister hurts.
Cold pains, achin' dry. Gone open azure sky.

I'v paid my prices, pondered my vices, this hero life is...
still without a mind.
And should it be how the songs say?
With matted eyes, butched coats, makes they---
part of my kind?

And this Inner-Cloister hurts.
Cold pains, achin' dry. Gone open azure sky.

Hope to all! Hope to all! Because all summer gives way to fall.
And I had never seen the snow, and the water thrashed and the wind did blow.
Heeding their ancient call...

ROAD TRIP!

How to make the perfect road trip.

Alright so lets cut this right to the chase. No beating around the bush here. I'm not gunna doddle on this one. This post is going right to the counter. I'm really too tired to sit around and try to amuse my followers with my brilliance of wit and bold, attacking prose. So no more dilly-daddle. Lets do this.
Heres how to have the ultimate road trip experience.




Step #1: Your Group.
You'll need a group of devoted, close friends to be in on it. Your going to be in a small space and up late nights with these people and it's probably going to be better if your all close and trust each other. 5 to 6 people would be the optimum, though you can have a more intimate one with your best friend or lover. Or you could brave a tribe, and have like 10 or 12 people.






Step #2: Your Dough.

Your going to need money. And the more the better. If you have a crappy job? No prob, just set aside at least 10 to 20 bucks a paycheck JUST for the trip. Don't rush it. Plan to have the trip at a time convenient for everyone. And try to have it a ways away from now. Like if its summer, plan to do it NEXT summer. Or if its winter?  Plan to do it the summer after this or just come up with a great financial plan so it could be for the coming one.
Everyone should be pitching in. Ideally, 2000 bucks a person for the trip. But like I said, the more the better.

Step #3: Your Destination.
Where you headed? My personal opinion? Road trip in the US. Good roads, solid laws, you can go forever and not have to cross a country boarder, great destinations, and you dont have to go far for awesome and diverse scenery and cultures.
The classic road trip is classic for a reason. Go drive through the mid west and/or the west. Red canyons, cactus, plenty of pit-stops, roadside pigs outs, and (of course) long stretches of open road.

Step #4: Your Wagon.
You need the rollin' shack. You and/or your friends have to pick out what you guys are gunna roll in. Again, my personal opinion? Get a Volkswagen Van/Bus. If you don't how the seat are put in, I would just pull them all out, cover the floor in something soft that you'd like to kick it in. Shag carpet is part of the stereotype for a reason. Optimize your vehicle. Add a cooler, a good sound system with plenty of tunes organized by play-list, room to for everyone to lay down when they want to sleep, and whatever else you feel would make the van a home away from home.

Step #5: Your Mash.
Your going to want food. Lots of food. Don't just buy enough food to get by. Your going to want food not only for meals but for just sitting around and having something to snack on while you chat, or drive, or in-between meals or when your bored, and yaddy yaddy yadda. Its good to always have stuff to eat. Eating from hungry to hungry just makes you think about meal times too much, and you want to enjoy your trip. Get LOTS of canned food and water before you leave. Of course have a healthy road-trip supply of your favorite verity of chips, nuts. and candy. If you can afford it get a lot of peanut butter and honey with bread. Nothing has to be refrigerated and a PB&H is amazing. Get cold foods in accordance to what type of cooling unit your vehicle has and how much room is in it. Always have cash put aside for roadside cafes and neat little restaurants along the way. It's always cool to be able to stop into different places and see what they have on their menus with your friends. Remember drinks; bottled water, sodas, energy drinks, etc, etc...




Step #6: Your Reckless Abandonment.

Leave. But in style. Look for a new job if you already have one. Set it up with a friend or a relative, knowing it will be there when you come back, because your current one? Gone. Your just gunna leave. Leave your job, leave your enemies, leave your problems. Still in school? Senior year? LEAVE! YIPPY-KAI-AYE-YAY!









Step #7: Burnin' Out.
Everyone pile into the Van, crack open some sodas, blast the opening tune, and burn out!

Stickin' It !

 Here is yet another post that comes from writings I did back in high school. I had a band during my senior year called Stick It To The Man. Just a fun cover band but we had some epic moments. Here I rant about my initial urge to create that band.

 OK. I will take stops like the one I am making right now through out this compilation of genius to write a certain rant in which I will keep coming back to again and again (depends really on the days when it strikes me harder then others). And this, my friends, is The Man. Yeah you heard me. The Man. Its almost like shouting a slurred Voldomort if you got drunk on butter beer at a Hogwarts bonfire party. And it ticks me off. Because, first of all we are mostly products of our society. Society is a product of The System. The System is a prime factor of The Machine. And The Machine is a mass of cogs, buttons, wheels and levers, pulled and run by The Man! One forged the other on down the little pink line so they could have their own gun to shoot with. And today society is the gun that I got hit with. I hate it. I hate it almost like Philipino (and don't give me crap about writing it with a "Ph" my goodness! It's how you freaking spell it) cheese ice cream... no... OK no, not THAT much. but a darn lot. Society decides some of the most personal things. For me it decided who I liked. Who I could be with. Well I don't trust society. I never met it in person. All I have seen are bullet holes that it left. And even, occasionally, have felt the burn of being shot by it. I have been very disabled against things like society and over all The Man since I have not had a freakin BAND in so frickin long. If I'd never cut my back hair since I had last been in a band then every time I sat on the toilet it would get wet. THAT'S HOW LONG!

No more. I will forge a rock band. Out of the stinking raw ores from Mount Power. I will pound them with the hammer of Angus and let their rancid fumes spit out of the rocky cracks. I will smelt it into a rock band worthy of sticking... I'm sorry, did I say sticking? wrong word. I meant stickin'. Worthy of Stickin' it to The Man! A band with running guitar solos and funky-chunky bass lines. I do believe that I am on the verge of this. Since, you see, on this island a drummer is hard to find... and drum set is close to being even out of the question. But I have found a a boy... a boy who has hair... long hair... and who has a drum set... a long drum set... and can stick it... long stick it. So I have asked and he has answered. The band is on the horizon now. I can smell it... and me oh my… it is very smelly...

 

Why Americas Food Wins I : Blue Berry Pancakes

Blue Berry Pancakes. It's one of the reasons I wake up every morning. Not because I'm going to have them for breakfast or anything. But because I am NOT going to. Because I have to stay alive for the day I wake up and tell myself "Yes. Yes Jacob. You have made it to that fateful morning. And the time for blueberry pancakes has come."

There is something too aweing for mans languages to describe biting into a fluffy, crisp, golden pancake, rich' n moist with fresh, juicy blueberry, stuffed into its thick, doughy, cake. It's the elegant deer of the breakfast bread, and the seductive madame of the morning-berried plate.
Few things compare to cutting through a fresh blueberry pancake and having berry scented steam jet out through the opening into your face. And how the purple juices of the berries mix with the bread of the pancake to make it doughy and moist.

Top that off with real maple syrup and you'll understand one of the reasons why Americas food wins.

Filipino Cheese Icecream

Filipino Cheese Ice Cream. This really bothers me. Whose idea was it to put the cheese in the ice cream? Really. And what’s more is that it didn’t just stop there as someone just trying to gross people out at lunch with their outrageous food combinations, it became an actual type of ice cream! In the Philippines there is an ice cream filled with thick little cheese cubes. No, it’s not good at all. It’s ridiculous. My dad’s Filipino co-worker bought 2 cartons of them over to my family once a few years back. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. Thank you so much!

Well, we didn’t want to waste food (even if cheese ice cream is debated as being a food by some) and no one else in the family would touch it after the first 2 bites, so me n my dad sat down to watch a movie with only one real sole motive in mind; a mission to fulfill before we saw the credits: To be real men and each finish a carton of the incorrect hell spawn. I rarely remember what the movie might have been about. The taste was too wrong to let me be completely aware, I was semi-lucid. We didn’t end up eating it all—we threw it away. Forget Africa, starving people wouldn’t have been able to do it either. It’s not that it was unbearably gross necessarily, but it was wrong. Something registered in your head as morally destroying. I really don’t understand the Filipinos. I’m sorry.

Filipinos seem to eat everything. They should have had someone over there when they started to develop their delicacies thousands of years ago. Someone to say simple little things and steer them in the right direction. “No, kill the pig first… good. NOW eat it.” “Uh-ah. We eat things while they are still fresh, we don’t want the green in the meat and hair growing on the vegetables and the breads. Good! Good little people!” “Now, if it smells like it’s been dead for more than 2 days, don’t eat it.” No. They didn’t have this assistance. Really, so disappointing. Some things are like, you gotta be kidding me…2 cups of white sugar into the half gallon of spaghetti sauce?

The Evil Propoganda Of Nerds

Here's a bit of piece from a script of rants I kept back in highschool...

I  don’t understand the whole “you’ll use math in every day of your life” crap. That’s just insane. I will not. I don’t get why adults think I’m gonna buy all that bull. There must be a better way to motivate me to do this stupid, impractical, standard school work, then to lie to me about it so bluntly. Let me remain without degrading me,  mocking my intelligence before forcing this young boy into submission of the worst kind…math work…

I never use math in my life until I’m in the classroom. If we use it or need it so much then how did man survive and evolve before it? If it’s so true that I need to use math all the time then maybe you should take a good look at what my average day consists of.

So the grown-ups say that every movement you make, thing you think, thing you see, is somehow a math problem. That is just downright impossible. I haven’t thought of math at all today and here I am writing the most important piece of literature that man might stumble upon for the next few thousand years! And yes, I suck at math, but while some guy who listened real fine and nicely in math class is using it to either teach a math class or calculate stuff for NASA, I’m gonna be carried around on my little Indian shoulder cart preaching my philosophy to the billions of followers that chant my name. Yes. I will make more history than you, you calculating geek. And I will have done it all without your retarded math.

Of Cows

I want to know why cows are so mistreated. I mean, every time I say cows are my favorite animal, people laugh. Some people don’t even take me seriously. They say “ewww” or “Ha, that’s funny.” Now whats so wrong about cattle? They provide us with so many things. I don’t understand the obsession with horses. That’s what I’d like cleared up. If someone says that their favorite animal is a horse no one says a word. Or even more common “Oh me too!”. I just don’t understand! Horses don’t do jack-crap for us. We can ride them, sure, but now we have motorcycles and cars and stuff. Besides if you were to ride a domesticated animal would it not be way-cooler to ride a bull?!?! Imagine… on the back of a spindly, little horse? Or enthroned on top of a large, black, snorting, muscles rippling, horns gleaming, 1,700 pound bull? It would look a lot cooler wouldn’t it? Plus, no one would want to mess with you if you were on the back of the most aggressive and dangerous (besides the hippo) herbivore in the world.

And on top of that cows give milk. Aha! Now that’s something with no real substitute, unlike the riding of a horse. Without cows you wouldn’t have milk, ice cream, cheese, cheesecake, milk chocolate, butter, and chocolate milk! Those are just a few things on the list. There are tons of things they provide us with. Imagine a world with no beef. No hamburgers! Now that would be sin. Cows also provide the most exciting part of the rodeo and of the run of the bulls.

People make out like cows are somehow grosser and dirtier then horses. I don’t understand why. Horses will crap and walk through it just like a cow does. I mean, it’s not like horses shower or something. They are just as dirty as cows are. The only difference is they are more useless.

A bull is also what they use for the main part of the entertainment in a Spanish bull fight. In this the bull represents the complete American favorite. He is the underdog. They put the bull into a ring and then have men run around and confuse it while others sneak-up on it and stab spears into its back haunches. Once the bull is weak from the loss of blood and aggravated to where its instincts tell it that it must now fight for its life, the matador comes out. This is a wanna-be Spanish pimp. He wears tight, black clothing and carries a silky red cape. Does this sound like The Man to you? YES! He waves the cape and as the bull runs at him (because it thinks it’s fighting for its life, and actually has nothing to do with the color of the cape) the matador steps aside and lets it run by, using his superior knowledge. As the bull passes by, the matador carries a spear in his other hand which he stabs into its lower back. After the bull has done a number of these he begins going for his final run, with the last of his strength. The matador knows when this time has come because this is not the first occasion he has performed the wicked deed. He then takes a sword in the other hand instead of a spear. This he stabs though the bull’s heart. The crowed goes wild as the bull dies at the matador’s apparent act of bravery. So basically, it’s a giant conspiracy against the bull. Thousands of cheering and excited spectators come to watch, the people in the ring all gang up and in the end the hit man delivers the bull to his doom. CONSPIRACY! And it’s all against the bull!

But horses get all the credit. At the end of the day, the horse doesn’t have these problems. It’s being bred and re-bred to get a final thoroughbred product that will be worth hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars. So naturally, it is treated like a king. Why is this? Because the media has made you love the horse, to accept it into society as one of us. You don’t eat horse, that's inhumane. You would never do what you did to the bull in the ring to a horse. Animal lovers would have you executed! But OH-HO-DEE-DOH! Let’s all gang up on the COW! The cow only ever gave you stuff! The cow never even got its own motion picture, which is what the horse has gotten HUNDREDS of times! It’s the media working hand in hand with all those sick little girls who have unwarranted pony fantasies! 

Anyway, cows are my favorite animal, and hopefully by reading this you will understand why that is, instead of scoffing and then thinking all your “subliminally” dictated horse thoughts.

Sexy-wang-go

I consider myself one of the few people (besides James Bond) in this world who have mastered the art of sexy-wang-go. This is a lethal blend of deadly martial arts and some serious mojo. Find little time to practice it though. First you must wait till midnight to do the basic buttocks clutch exercise, light some candles if you like (I prefer to use pine needle scent. It somehow reminds you what your doing isn’t gay), then swear your standard “Squint” Eastwood oath. After this is where you proceed to practice hip sway movements, hair styles, and posing hot attack stances. I do not encourage the average commoner to go into the delicate art balance of sexy-wang-go. I’m just letting you know I do it because I’m sure it will come up later in my theories, stories, and metaphors. You know….sexy-wang-go.

Airship.

The world is made of little things, and such hold the answer.
My bus, my seat, my autumn sleeves; these were the little things... in my life.
Grueling through the winter snow, behold the front door.
Flakes give in, and melt away. Destination: Coco.

The Beast, she loves the yellow trees.
 We were the candy "underground".

The path, your shop, those gnoming falls...
Roxaboxen... left alone.
As time went by the less you said thank you.
And life's been good, so leave good alone. But your heart begs...
Yukon Ho...

Yukon Ho! Yukon Ho!
Yukon Ho! Yukon HO!
The things we think about when we're young-

Yukon tops the bucket list, but we'll need aviation.
Captain Sam shall construct the airship.
Yes I believe in--- a Great Above.


As worlds pass by, they slip away...