Dodgers play Cubs--TONIGHT

   
   "Dodgers play Cubs--TONIGHT"
   
   Tonight, the Chicago Cubs will raise their Wold Series Champion Banner; moreover, my favorite team, the LA Dodgers will be there, giving plenty of LIVE-ACTION.
   And watching baseball on television is not boring, unless you're a boring person--in my opinion, but yes, you cannot smell them cooking Dodger Dogs out in actual California, but the essence and spirit of it can be brought into your imagination, even if you boil a turkey dog; next, lather up a bun with some spicy mustard and add a kosher dill spear, followed by pouring yourself an ice cold Bud.  So, TONIGHT--Dodgers face the Cubs!

Dodgers Record:  

W:  4  L:  3

Cubs Record: 

W:  4  L:  2  

Star Wars - Opening Scene

Columbo - Intro (1975)

Thoracic Animus (4)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (4)"
   
   Mutt's cross breed of Serb and Iroquois ignited an intuition nearly feminine, and he heard the thunderous crank of metal clanging outside his modest habitat; next, a walk in the park--hearing their footsteps outside his door.  He kept on guard as instructed by Moses' literary endeavors, which he received no money for.
   It was always something.  Like--peaks and valleys.  As we mourn in this valley of tears.  But gravity is at a loss when intention is a misunderstood State of Grace.
   Mutt wouldn't let circumstance walk over him.  Burn Joan; next, Mark Twain gives her a Phoenix.
   Can they hold the Patriots down?  
   Mutt found nothing but more canine suspicion, yet they missed his sense of loyalty and friendship.  

Thoracic Animus (3)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (3)"
   
   Mutt's sacred heart was not related to the snowman, but like Saint John the Eagle at the Last Supper, putting his ear over Christ's left breast, listening to the pulse of pure Divinity, knowing--there is a time for peace; on the flip side, there is a time for war.
   That poor boy with autism, OCD & tics, social phobia, digestive disorders, constant ringing in the ears, and they call him Rain Man, make fun of his lesions, say the boogeyman is under his bed, yet they are the boogeyman, rattling his cage for decades, thieving away his confidence in Christ, his belief that Jesus loves him; furthermore, imprisoning him, and we are called to visit those in prisons, not just the criminals, even taken down from Calvary by Orthodox Jews, but those living in the pits of their own personal Pandemonium, false testimony offered upon them--these Godly losers loading them down with opprobrium, when they have been abused by culture, pure culture, and they snap; next, you call them guilty, when you are wearing the adder's mask, hiding a forked-tongue beneath, but as Daniel means:  "God is my judge," knowing every aspect of inner thought, for nothing is hidden from God, not even a man praying in private, or playing with his private parts concerning the girl at the grocery store, which is still negative adultery, yet the true Law has been dismissed, and Jesus picks it up from Moses, saying to spread it like healthy bacteria.
   They tried to keep G. Gordon Liddy down.  Jimmy Carter fought back.  The media is propaganda, yet even the modern king knows there are spies hidden in his scepter, nanotechnological spiders weaving wicked webs, and your best friend is your worst enemy, like a mean girl, for you look better than her, and all women crave beauty, as do men envy it, that's why fat porn is rarely observed as Socrates empirically witnessed before drinking the Kool-Aid, and still running wisely at the mouth, for an unmasking intention of those that deal in death.
   Mutt had a bloody poop, and buried it under the rocks.   

Big Trouble in Little China Pork chop express

Thoracic Animus (2)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (2)"
   
   Mutt was worried about the real carnal crimes, and knew no drones or satellite imagery could find that girl from Tennessee, for Deputy Dawg has been dogged, picking on the little guy suffering from high anxiety and phobias bizarre, while a possible white molester rolls free in America, 
   He didn't know if it was the non-monkey bloods being hunted, but there is truth in ALL, and of course we know of MKUltra and such, and that it was Russia who defeated the Germans, losing near 30 million, but everyone is prone to drink Kool-Aid at times.
   Mutt put an ice pack on his skinny buttocks, his gimp-like disfigurement not bothering his internal Popeye the Sailor Man, for he ate spinach for iron, and pooped painfully, though always buried it with rocks, as if telepathically picking up all the negative energy from others' pubic hairs on government-placed commodes.  There is no such thing as an inviolate commode, for another man or woman having sex with his last wife could not compare to someone evacuating their toxicity through the labia of his toilet bowl, penetrating, in his allowed, singular mind, a Lincoln Log of angry food being eaten, as obese people swallow plenty of aggression.  And Mutt was no violent criminal, nor partied, but just watched the Catholic and Science Channels, wanting to know more about Hairy Man, and those old timers hunting him up in the Northwest.  Heck, as long as not violent or insidious in attempts to neglect or take away, or steal freedom--what's wrong with being a rare breed, after all--his name was Mutt, half Serb and half of the Iroquois Nation.
   So, Mutt removed the ice pack, put some psoriasis cream into his anal cavity, and pooped out a pink fountain of cotton candy produced by Pepto-Bismol, spinach, and some squash here and there, mixed with canned chicken.  Then, he invoked Saint Joan of Arc to carry on, doing his Earthly duties, even if it meant his own death, such as taking care of an overly-depressed dog dubbed Buckwheat.