Wheaten Terrier Express

   
   "Wheaten Terrier Express"
   
   This is old Mark David King and the Wheaten Terrier Express; moreover, I'm talking to anybody who's listening.  I ain't saying I've experienced everything, but like I was telling my last wife to stop dressing like a Drag Queen and putting her son in lascivious positions, or how Grandma told me that my incubated, nearly stillborn ass was visited by two men in black suits, and the Virgin Mary never lived next door, but gossips driving spouses to find John Barleycorn and attempt a harvested resurrection of self-worth--just remember, if you've had a taste of getting smacked around cause your blood may not have monkey proteins, just tell those forked-tongued demons from Walmart that the check is in the mail.  Have you paid your dues Mark?  Yes sir--the check is in the mail.
   God Bless Jack Burton.  

OUR FATHER

   
   "OUR FATHER"
   
   Christ, the greatest of all the Rabbinical Sons of Men, said:  "The Father already knows what you're thinking; hence, say this prayer."  Which is the OUR FATHER.
   As a Catholic, I know that King Solomon hinted at your brother being your adversary--just look at Joseph and his older brothers' envy over his coat, or little Kind David, the shepherd boy at first, and how his older brothers tormented him.  
   Jew, Christian, Muslim--brothers, yet adversaries.  Even the Koran agrees with Jesus--God already knows every thought in your head; therefore, He is truly Big Brother--not the government.
   And when you get to the difficult part:  "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."   Just remember William Blake's mystical words:  "The fox condemns the trap, not himself."  
   Indeed, a thief's job is to steal.  A whore's job is to drive her husband crazy.  A murderer's job is to kill you.  A Wheaten Terrier's job is to be insanely in love with weirdness.  A Saint's job is to be mutilated.  A Confessor's job is to spill the beans.  We are what we are.  Jesus is the Author of Life, and He invented the hamburger before Ronald McDonald.  So, just know:  Yes, people want to hurt you.  And yes, even some, may want to help you.  

automatic Miranda Lambert (Lyrics)

Grizzly Hybrid (5)

   
   "Grizzly Hybrid (5)"
  
Trixie 
Was a bit meticulously ditzy,
For to know the fundamentals of Truth
Is to be full of fruitcake couth--
And as Johnny Carson said:
"There's only one fruitcake in the world--never dead."
So, Johnny Starvation put away his crossbow,
And Quicksand, the loyal Pomsky, made a bark get groovy with glow;
Next, Trixie said she had an illustrious plan
To save the Grizzly Hybrid, which was from an enchanted, Northern Land.  

Grizzly Hybrid (4)

   
   "Grizzly Hybrid (4)"
   
   Johnny Starvation and Quicksand spotted the Grizzly hybrid, which was a mutated-like Kodiak--it didn't look like it wanted to shake hands.  Was eating some mutilated cow.  Tearing it further to pieces, going deep into the exposed sternum to get at the heart of the animal.
   Johnny Starvation was hiding behind a rock, like God told Moses to do, when revealing His Hindquarter to the Law-Giver.  And Starvation whispered to Quicksand:  "That Brown Bear doesn't appear to have any manners."  The Pomsky whimpered, yet eyed the ravenous beast, believing it could take it, or at least bark at it, and run around it in circles.  Descartes was wrong--dogs do have consciousness, and some even--a conscience.
   Johnny Starvation lowered his 100 pound crossbow and took aim.  Quicksand's ears pointed way up.  Enter Trixie.  Her running from a distance, shouting:  "Don't kill it Johnny Starvation!  Don't kill it!"
   Johnny Starvation looked a bit stupefied concerning the stranger as she rushed towards Quicksand, him, and the danger of an arcane Brown Bear.    

The Cult - Big Neon Glitter

Grizzly Hybrid (3)

   
   "Grizzly Hybrid (3)"
   
   Johnny Starvation kinda/sorta knew--not it ALL, but the fundamentals.  Do not sacrifice Liberty for Security; however, S. E. Hinton says:  "That was then--this is now--lighten up, dude."
   Who trusts an Ambassador to France in kite-flying, hippie sandals, and with no education, further bringing Paine's alcoholic, non-educated ass to make the Colonial Press go crazy, them printing and literally proclaiming:  "Without the quill of Paine, the sword of Washington would never have sincerely swung."  I"M ASKING????????
   Morrison's words:  "The West is the Best--it's all a bunch of bullshit."
   Robert Plant jealous of WHITESNAKE's lead singer, for the dude had more matter concerning genitalia--anything that takes up space and has mass.  
   Johnny Starvation just needed to make himself a duplicate of Christ, Saint Paul spurting:  "Be an imitator of me, as I am of Christ."  The Non-Canonized Gospel of Thomas going further, making the woman into the man; the man into the woman, loving living like a child, without the pressure of the Moon's spermicidal pull--you picking up what I'm putting down?  Of course not, for Johnny Starvation has an eating disorder; thus, he can't purchase a single action .44 Magnum in Montana to protect himself from Brown Bear, cause a cotton candy world of a fake, Marxist, pneumatic, black, historical, plural Dude dubbed "Jesus" dominates the headlines, yet when an Orthodox Jew uncovers HIS tomb recently, the only coverage on ABC News is that Beyonce is preggers--who gives a fucking shit!?!
   Johnny Starvation loaded his 100 pound crossbow and waited for the mixed Kodiak from Justin's Canada to attack, and Canada will let in terrorists, but not the disabled, or G. Gordon Liddy, yet they forge the finest silver in the world.  Oh well, King Solomon mentioned that fear of God is worth more than silver.  
   Johnny Starvation hugged Quicksand, the Pomsky; next, took out his crossbow like Legolas, more or less, and with his wiry frame, brought the hunt to the hunter--in Jesus' Name.