The goal for this next year is to be yar and frankly, mo’ betta. I have
any-think. My brain has no need to be fixed. It will be balanced on the
helm and ready for quick and handy. My heart stands next to brain.

They often argue over who is first mate. What they don’t understand
is that it isn’t a competition. No need for one to push the other overboard.
I’m just asking for a little cooperation, here, so I can tuck their

knife-wielding, swamp-dwelling beast-baby into bed with warm milk and
honey. I’m asking for smooth sailing. It’s time to blow away from Porcupine
Island, where the shores are lined with dead jellyfish.