Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer- Santa sings to Rudolph

Santa's Secret Elves

   
   "Santa's Secret Elves"
   
   Out of love, driven by a mirthful passion for family, children, the elderly, and all that jazz--this fueled by charity and sincerity of heart; plus, good will, well--this births gifts, as did Saint Francis birth the Nativity Scene, a wondrous and mystical gift, it spreading across Italy; next, to the entire world.  Merry Christmas!!!

Crystalline Cool (49)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (49)"
   
   Rudolph had informed Duncan that he was leaving; specifically, the lead reindeer with the cherry nose said:  "I cant half-ass my care of all the naughty and nice; indeed, I gotta help Santa deliver the goods, for there's a big arctic freeze, and he needs me."
   Duncan was not happy to lose such a friend over the Christmas season; nevertheless, he understood that duty, including mercy and justice, as mentioned by the minor prophet Micah, was sincerely imperative; thus, he embraced the reindeer, causing Rudolph's nose to beam a brilliant-red glow out of love; next, his friend flew away from Saint Vincent Island, back to the North Pole.
   Duncan continued to pilot his lime-green KX 200 and dig ditches, not having enough money to send Dad a gift.  He was a bit blue in a non-metaphysical sense; however, as he sat at home, drinking spearmint tea and pondering his future, a Canis rufus entered his shanty, as if walking through the thin walls with a super-phasing ability; next, the wolf/coyote hybrid spoke telepathically to Duncan, saying:  "I am the pathfinder--so to speak.  We will walk and ride over water, back to Oklahoma, so that you can be with your biological father for Christmas.  Follow my supernatural path, and all will be well."
   Duncan did not argue, but put his few possessions in a backpack; then, jump-started the Kawasaki and followed the path-finding canine homewards.  Dad would be pleased upon his arrival.  

Crystalline Cool (48)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (48)"
   
   Duncan had a bizarre feeling Dad was worried about him; thus, he approached Rudolph--the sparkly-nosed reindeer had been residing in the shanty's den, where the floors were covered in hay, yet incense burnt to keep the critters from infesting.  And he asked the lead reindeer:  "I think my Dad is worried about me--is this true?"
   The reindeer's nose lit up a cherry divine; next, he looked lovingly into Duncan's eyes, stating:  "Of course Little Wolf is worried; he's your biological father.  But you worry not.  The Lord is your refuge; hence, no harm will come, no matter how great the corporeal pain.  So, raise your frequencies in a positive direction.  Laugh, use the antiseptic color, and the color of health, the promise of the rainbow, and read and listen to music that proclaims Christ with chanting and love.  Too, buy distilled water and canned foods, get a crossbow; plus, save medication and vitamins.  Be prepared.  Also, She may already be here in hiding--your Mother; my Mother.  Nothing is more powerful than that which is pure.  A lamb, a virgin, and a Canis lupus arctos that lays down with the lamb."
   Duncan dropped his head, feeling stoic like Dad, and asked:  "Why is life so much of a struggle?"
   The joyous reindeer voiced:  "Like John F. Kennedy said--life is not fair; regardless, be full of mirth and glee in your chastity and poverty, doing the lowest of labor.  Never lose faith, even though it totally may seems you're at the bottom of the Totem Pole, for all will be reversed when the Lord manifests His might--and justice and peace kiss."
   Duncan gave Rudolph a gentle touch between the antlers, further running love down the reindeer's furry back, and the mystical beast smelled good too.  

Crystalline Cool (47)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (47)"
   
   The Apache elder dubbed Little Wolf saw the Vatican had proscribed invocations to angels not listed in the Catholic Bible, which includes the Apocrypha; thus, he still had a chance to ask Saint Raphael to heal his son's eyes from witnessing the cruel and insidious world--poverty and chastity were enough for the boy, him having dug ditches in solitude most of his life, but as of now:  Flying around with the lead reindeer and viewing injustice.  Poor kid.
   Thus, the Chief chanted to Saint Raphael, blazing aglow with vibrations on a certain electromagnetic frequency.  Then, Dad wondered when he read that article concerning the Vatican, but nobody has more Christian perspective.  And while Dad held firm in his heritage; nevertheless, he saw how synonymous it was with his son's Catholic beliefs.
   Roadkill puked on the floor again, getting into Tony the Tiger's Frosted Flakes, and Dad cleaned it up with patience, not scolding the dog, but assisting the tame beast with some distilled water, which Tesla was fond of drinking.  Curious--they Canonized Joan of Arc not long after Twain penned a biography on her.
   Dad believed, but was just going to trust from now on.  Stay away from new gadgets and devices, watch his black and white with rabbit ears, and monitor the cops with his scanner, which was fueled by communicative crystals.
   Roadkill burped a smile, and Dad hugged the dog, holding onto hope for his son and the entire world.  
    

Tormentors and Bravo Sierra

   
   "Tormentors and Bravo Sierra"
  
   Hole in the soul?  And the sons of men and all the rest attempt to fill it with accolades and perishable achievements; nevertheless, it is never enough, and fancy folk seek more and monstrously more--this metaphorical mammon.  But only the Holy Trinity, One God can fill the hole, lighting it up with an everlasting light.
   What man hates more:  Sharpton or Duke?  It's a double-edged sword, the intensely false Queen of weaponry.  And they plot revenge; as a result, they must dig two graves.  God is never mocked, especially by those not filled with His Spirit, them controlled by the stars.
   Elderly people should be adored.  Yet people are psychology freaked by the ill and old, as it wends against the glamour displayed in the pop-culture genre.  Therefore, people run from the ills of disease as it burns them like fire, and they have not the steel to embrace the flame, cooling it down with luminous light.  Even Saint Francis was initially disgusted at disease, but finally admitted:  "Where there is darkness, let me put light."
   People that come into the homes of the elderly can be serpents in sheep's clothing.  Making hallucinations for the neurologically-damaged worse by their negatively-charged ways.  Showcase twisted imagery or cackle at suffering, be flat out lazy and sloppy, which is neglect; furthermore, hack into their computers, thieving privacy with contempt for the weak, and offer false testimony on their deeds, such as attempting to poison the family pet; thus, true family needs to SEE, and unite for truth.  For the lame cannot shake things off, so to speak.
   People don't pick up their Cross, but nail others to it.  But what you sow is what you reap--in the end, and life is over in the blink of an eye.  Thus, be a rebel against the rebellion caused by pride and arrogance.  
   They say the Russian media lies.  Look at ours.  And now Trump has conquered, and they swim like schools of fish to lick his boots.  From his political genesis, they said he had no chance, brainwashing us.  
   The Lord is my refuge.  Christ is good.  Saint Nicholas of Myra's spirit cannot perish.  But if you want to be in the venomous valley of the viper, you are a free agent to do so, but they say he doesn't exist, for that would make the sons of men fear God, which would be the ruination of the prince of this world.
   Like with Freud, knowing.  Yet Solomon wisely stating:  "Hearken unto the father that begat you, and despise not your mother when she grows old."  Moreover, Christ running away from His Mother to find His Father.  And She, His first Disciple, proclaims:  "Do as My Son says."  And His kindness towards Her expressed to Saint John while on the Cross:  "Behold your Mother."
    So, turn your Christmas lights on, or light it up like Judas Maccabeus.  Fight like Joan of Arc for the ignition of innocence for your country and family.  

1990 Mustang LX 5.0

   
   "1990 Mustang LX 5.0"
   
   Ford put fuel injection in the 5 Liter Mustangs around 1987; nevertheless, every 302 cubic-inched small block always had a swift sprint, especially out of the hole, pinning you back in the seat.  Plenty of arguments arise over whether the late 80's and early 90's offered better performance in the GT or LX construction; regardless, it was basically equal, yet the ground effects from the GT models gave air drag that slowed down the gallop a bit.  Texas State Troopers started using the LX 5.0's during the late 1980's for mercurial acceleration.  Here are some approximate stats for the 1990 Mustang LX 5.0--here we go:

302 cubic inches.

Horses:  225.

300 lb-ft. torque.

0-60:  6.1 seconds.

Quarter Mile Dash:  14.7 seconds.

Top Speed:  145 MPH, and the eight-cylinders could hold that speed for more than a mere moment.