Jack Burton's Questions: A Supercut

Kooky Lucy Frost (3)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (3)"
   
   Kooky Lucy Frost and Cleveland had to make an exodus from the Big Bird yellow apartment complex.  And why do they call them apartments when they put them together, as the watermelon-smashing comedian probed?  Anyway, her deceased mother's father, her Serbian Pap dubbed Dragic Bradovic, let her move in with him, for he had great empathy and intuition, like a woman, being keen on the non-canonized Gospel of Thomas.
   Lucy didn't own much besides her comic books from the Carter Era; plus, of course--Cleveland, her loyal canine pal.  And Pap (Dragic) liked animals, never eating one that was strangled, but he boiled his pork chops in a ton of extra-virgin olive oil, along with rosemary, salt, and black pepper--never having had a stomach ache in his entire life; plus, he'd eat whole onions like a normal person does an apple.  Dragic had many phobias and concerns as well; thus, understood why Lucy had quit her job and morphed into a reclusive and impoverished little girl, though she was 39 years of age, but always a little girl to Dragic, her Pap.
   After settling into his modest habitat, he told her, as she had no health insurance, that he was going to send her to a psychiatrist, not a clinical psychologist.  He said he was happy to pay; furthermore, added:  "A clinical psychologist will tell you to be King Kong; however, some people are Godzilla; thus, trust only God, let Him be your power source.  And when you see the psychiatrist, don't make any eye contact with the patients in the waiting room.  There could be meek social phobic types, or raging psychotics, or both.  Just be like the cowboy Shane, sit at the back of the waiting room against the wall, never having another behind you.  Understand?"
   Lucy gave Cleveland a heavy stroke of love; next, said:  "Thanks Pap--you're the best."
   He stated:  "If you had only known your mother, for she was better than me."  
   Lucy dropped her head, trying to remember, and held back many a tear.  

Obi Wan Kenobi

Kooky Lucy Frost (2)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (2)"
  
   Lucy Frost had just bagged groceries for a man making his own gravy during this unusually hot day in the city of Buffalo; specifically, his armpits were lathered in hairy sweat; plus, his forehead was toxically smeared in bubbly beads of grotesque grossness, and he had a set of paws demonically dripping in microscopic germ juice; therefore, as she pushed his cart out to his car, ignoring his small talk concerning the price of silver possibly going up, she had no conscious clarity or true lucid sense concerning reality, only thinking he could lather a bird cooked in the oven with all his man sweat.
   As soon as her duty ended, she dashed into the lady's room, and immediately smelled the odor of a stale bowel movement recently flushed, puked in the sink, washed her hands in the second sink, and put Purell up her nostrils and on her washed hands; plus, went all the way up to her elbows with the sanitizing product; next, decided she could get a new job, and ran the hell out of the grocery store, jogging swiftly back to her Big Bird yellow apartment complex, where she entered her apartment by way of opening the door with her shirt tail; then, stripped naked, carefully putting her clothes in the washer, and jumped into the shower, scalding herself to precious purity.
   Cleveland, the Sheltie, was used to such furious drive concerning his master's need to glisten, and simply waited for his best pal to be all fresh and minty, a place where Kooky Lucy Frost could find solace, and actually be a real human being, from time to time.

Lauren Alaina - Road Less Traveled(Lyrics)

Becka--email me; plus, Sorrowful Mysteries

   
   "Becka--email me; plus, Sorrowful Mysteries"
   
   Ginger.  Ruby.  Scarlet.  Cherry.  Wine-colored, and your lips are wine; moreover, I want to get drunk with moderation upon your kisses.  Not screw.  Don't work @ HOME DEPOT.  LOVEMAKE, and all the sins taken away by tears upon a foot not kicked by a Virgin--a heel never wounded, but victory, as is the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics, never ceasing to change.
   You're not cottage cheese in the rump.  Not sinned into by activity spied by big brother, yet seen by God, Him truly Big Brother.  Hell, I've photographed myself naked, for cameras enlarge things.
   First earliest pics of Jews in Egypt were of blondes and red-heads.  Jesus a Nazarene--from the North of it ALL.  The Son of David LIVES forever.
   Yes, I understand weirdness.  Met a coyote once--the only time I ever called the cops.  Its eyes, into me, a few inches away.  Second unto the Great Spirit.  Bizarre, and teaching through weirdly arcane humor.  Misunderstood, yet loyal.  The Fool Card, as is the Book of Tobit.  A white dog and man dancing, knowing he has all the tools, but no common sense, and I can prove my lack of clarity, yet angelic symmetry wending against the monster of misinformation--enuff.
   Email me Becka--you have my business card with my last wife on back--she's Italian and so hairy I used to call her Chewbacca.  I've seen yeast infections up close and personal.  I've braved a doomed cavity of intercourse, where discharge was delinquent.  Just weird and friendly.  A dog.  A tame dog, but they swarm me like bees with their untruths, as Saint Francis says:  "Don't let me be understood, but let me understand."  A FOOL for Christ.  And what is better than love and matter taking up space and having the mass of kissing a truthful ass?  A true friend--to the end.  A barber, a monk, a grocery store clerk, and a confessor willing to drink the piss of love for a truthful tradition's sake.  Email me. 
   And as it is Friday, we mourn, but are comforted during the Holy Rosary, knowing the Cross is not the Omega, but just the beginning of a fourth dimensional self.  

Barney Miller Werewolf