Thoracic Animus (9)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (9)"
   
   The boys in the backwoods of Tennessee had severe animus concerning American, pseudo-local law in Tennessee, saying:  "Boy, California ain't shit.  We got the best herb growing in the backwoods of Tennessee."  And Mutt didn't need it for his colonoscopy--his fifth, but only to hunt Hairy Man, that sum bitch (the sum of all bitches), harassing the Six Million Dollar Man, him being worth more than millions since the 1970's, like a few billion in these here years.  And 3-D printing and nanotechnology; plus, all that curvaceous android crap is the TECHNOLOGY of angels fallen, or gremlins within; regardless, Eisenhower and Jackie Gleason with Nixon know how to use it, resonating from a celestial grave, being reborn or not, but affecting.  "Junior, remind me to punch your mama in the mouth when I get home."
   So, Mutt's crazy Uncle wanted a Hairy Man pelt, but Bigfoot is a tricky bastard, and does he like bananas?  That's the real question--is he ape, or beyond?  Tarzan knows not, but he had the blade--steel, and the apes retreated.
   If only Iron Man drank plenty of his alcoholism and defeated Doctor Doom properly, once and for all, with a Four's Fantastic help, though the Human Torch is blonde and beautiful, as is his sister, and yes, gentleman prefer blondes, even watching Marilyn Monroe catch horses for dog food.
   But nothing compares to the innocent essence of adolescent cruel, like S. E. Hinton, knowing the minds of teenage boys, as she was a teenage girl, knowing Pony Boy doesn't pester pussy, but respects it, giving it dignity, and do I sound dirty, but filth is found in the paradox of placing grenades in holy places, if that holy place wants to behead and kill.  Pride is rebellion against God.  Who are you to be proud, when you forged not yourself into existence?  Therefore, be pleased with God, and follow the true Law, or your land is absolutely absent.
   Mutt saw a Bigfoot, but wearing a rabbit's foot around its neck, he couldn't crossbow it.  His Uncle went:  "Shit Mutt.  We could've bagged a Bigfoot buddy."
   Mutt didn't care.  Let live and let love.  

Guns n´Roses - 14 years (lyrics)

Ronald Regan tells UN that aliens are among us ufo united nations

Duran Duran hungry like the wolf with lyrics

Holy Thursday; plus, Random Francais

   
   "Holy Thursday; plus, Random Francais"
   
   Some say, some, that during the suffering in the Garden, as meditated upon during the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Holy Rosary, that the Angel, Arch-Angel, maybe Seraph (Chamuel) was with Christ, to bring the pinkish vibrations on a certain frequency, and to quench Him further into loving calmness; nevertheless, Christ did scold Saint Peter, as always, for falling asleep.  Only Saint John the Eagle, who listened to the Sacred Heartbeat, did truly love and fearlessly follow Christ and His Mother, in my opinion, near perfectly.

Some Random French:

trois = number three, like the Trinity.

quatre = number four, like the Virgin; furthermore, 1 + 3 = 4.

je = I.

tu = you in a familiar sense.

vous = you in a formal sense.

elle = she.

nous = us, we.

elles = them, they in a feminine sense.

le mien = mine, masculine.

la mienne = mine, feminine and singular.

ange = angel.

barde = bard.

Eucharistie = Eucharist.

hors de prix = exorbitantly expensive.

la Sainte Vierge = Blessed Virgin.

Saint-Esprit = Holy Spirit.

chien = dog.

chien de meute = hound.

loup = wolf.

zozo = nitwit.

Ou sont les toilettes = where is the toilet?  

Robert Palmer - Addicted to Love (Live in NYC - 1997)

Thoracic Animus (8)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (8)"
  
   Mutt adored his Eastern Orthodoxy; specifically, knowing the Hebrews had Passover, and that the angel of death would not take from a house stained with the blood of the lamb.  And for Mutt, he would visit his Uncle in Eastern Dakota, and they would celebrate the Paschal Lamb, eating tsoureki, a type of Easter bread, non-pagan, and prepare lamb with rosemary, sea salt, and pepper.
   Indeed, it was life.  Escape if admitted, and if you do not admit Him--not goods news. 
   And while he could stay and laugh with his Uncle all day and night, his mother's brother had even more sublime intentions as a Yankee Cooter.  Was like:  "Come on Mutt.  Let's get some 75 pound crossbows with laser sightings; next, we'll hunt Hairy Man; I always wanted to get me some Hairy Man."
   For some reason, it always went back to Bigfoot for Mutt, having watched the Six Million Dollar Man back in they day, knowing they came in inter-dimensional, disc-shaped craft.  Oh well, he got his depressed dog Buckwheat, said an Iroquois chant, blessed himself with the Trinity's purpose, and boarded his Uncle's Ford Ranchero with a factory hood induction and dual exhaust, in search of that sum bitch, Hairy Man.