Fat Slobs in Nashville

   
   "Fat Slobs in Nashville"
   
   Needing to always take my therapy dog in the car, and I never get out for more than fifteen minutes a day, unless to see a physician or Priest; anyway, I drove my Poor Man's Wolfhound to the grocery market to get some orange chicken and Icelandic water for the holy hound--in there for under 4 minutes, leaving the cool canine inside with windows down, and a dog's hair can act as insulation against the heat.
   When I make my exit, some fat slob of a woman has her cell phone out, examining my automobile, and hollers at me with a demonic drawl, asking if I'm the owner of the vehicle with my loyal pal inside, her informing me that I had been torturing the animal; thus, I said that I was the owner and explained the scenario; next, she starts ranting, so I told her:  "Shut your face, and stay out of my business!"
   Fat slobs and unattractive people are usually those that start trouble, due to being pissed as they're locked inside bodies that swallow plenty of aggression, calcifying their pineal gland and having no telepathic sense of what it truly means to be downtrodden.  I don't eat myself into having a cottage cheese buttocks.  I don't drink myself into black-outs or stupidity.  As Christ said:  "Get the splinter out of your own eye, before attempting to get it out of another's."  And my advice:  "Consider salads and green tea."  

The House That Built Me- Miranda Lambert lyrics

Kooky Lucy Frost (10)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (10)"
   
   Cleveland was laying at Kooky Lucy's feet as she sat upon Pap's couch feeding him doggy vitamins to lubricate his hip joints.  The omnivorous canine wasn't yet 10 years old; still, he would limp a bit here and there, and as Lucy Frost's best and only friend for the past decade, she just couldn't comprehend life without him, but had no money to take him to the Dog Doc, and Pap had already done so much for her; thus, asking him would further ignite more guilt--she had always felt guilty in life.  Guilty for being pretty, guilty for being able to make her own comic books, which she had never shown to anybody, and very guilty in not being able to make friends.
   Pap, sitting across from her in his Archie Bunker-styled chair and smoking a cigarette, as if through a great, empathetic telepathy; plus, empirical knowledge, having observed that Cleveland limped her and there, politely asked:  "You want me to make Cleveland an appointment to see a vet?"
   Lucy's forest-green eyes swirled in fear, her saying:  "Oh no Pap; he'll be fine."
   Pap was like:  "Oh come on Lucy--your best pal needs a check-up.  Don't feel guilty.  Don't ever feel guilty.  We are both family, and family are those that do the will of God.  I'm just an old, lonely man--happy to have your company, and happy to help.  People can read you Lucy, and you could read them--if you would just not resist the fear, but let Christ glow inside of you; next, your fears would be afraid of you.  Look, I'll tell you what--we go to the Orthodox Church today, take the Eucharist, and tomorrow we'll run up to the vet and get Cleveland checked out; then, we can both get haircuts."
   "Why are you doing all this for me?"  Lucy asked honestly, in her mind.
   Pap blew a smoke ring, saying:  "Because there is nobody more deserving I know than you."
   Lucy Frost blushed, never having felt so much love before, except from Cleveland, her best pal.  

Virgin Mary--Always Remembered

   
   "Virgin Mary--Always Remembered"
  
   The Inviolate Virgin said:  "For He took notice of His lowly servant girl, and now all generations shall call Me blessed."  In physics, you might call this super-positioning, which is, being in many places at once.  And how can the Queen of Heaven not do this?  If She comes to you, a Priest might say that you are not special enough, but it's always the rejected stone that becomes the true cornerstone.  She can do anything She wants as deemed by God, and God loves the underdog, the poor in spirit, the meek--those that thirst for righteousness, following His Son's Laws, and His.   Mary's Words:  "Do as My Son says."
   My favorite story I investigated took place in Ireland.  There was a Virgin Mary statue at the park and angst-ridden adolescents were fornicating, drinking, uttering profane vulgarities and so on; anyway, they claimed that after their illicit behavior, the Virgin Mary statue became animated and beat the tar out of them.  But nobody believes in anything save the dollar, a false god that many worship.
   The fake news is that fame and wealth make you great; plus, status, but the child with no arms who praises Jesus Christ seems like the cornerstone.  The true architect of constructing courage and determination in the downtrodden.  

Kooky Lucy Frost (9)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (9)"
   
   Kooky Lucy, unknown to herself, having had ice-water in her veins for years, though sometimes scorched, and running free like a frozen river melted, but always cold again, for she was blessed by being genuine, and what is holy, is protected--bless all those without the venomous vizard that is a monstrous mask--Lucy wore no vizard.
   As she jogged through Pap's suburban-sprawled neighborhood, with her best pal at her heels, she watched as the trash men were more automated, and the losers lose more jobs, though happy to work alone like a Gray Ghost during the Civil War.  We all have our part to play, and some enjoy digging ditches and working with their hands, building a fortress of corporeal steel, like a Yankee ironworker, way up high, seeking the celestial high-tower, and knowing the metaphorical South can only sustain itself on making tampons, and many women in the South still pick their own cotton today, not wanting toxic shock.
   Lucy Frost kept jogging.  Kept remembering the fibs now absent from her future.  

Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back - Trailer

Mosby--Civil War, no myth

   
   "Mosby--Civil War, no myth"
  
   They call the holocaust a myth nowadays.  The Civil War too.  Men in masks, taking down heroes during the witching hour.  Myriads of Yankee men dead, freeing people who would not fight for themselves.  We all were slaves at one point.  The Jews.  The Irish.  The Nordics.  Them blondes deep in Egypt's curse.  Let My People Go.  The people that fear me.  What is fear of God Solomon answers:  "Hatred of pride, arrogance, and the forked tongue."  But boast of God, for He forged you into existence.  The light arriveth, and the darkness comprehends it not.
   Mosby.  Sickly.  Of Virginia.  The Apple of His Mother's Eye.  Grew to be about five foot six, weighing in @ 120 or so pounds.  Got beat up at school everyday.  The next day, dressed himself, and happily got another ass whooping.  Kept coming back.  Ice water in his veins.
   Wanted to go Union.  Supported Grant during his Presidency.  But Virginia was his mother; therefore, he enlisted and worked under J.E.B. Stuart.  Hated regimentation.  Needed to be alone.  A scout.  Stuart gave him a few men.  All Mosby did was cause chaos to the Yankees.  Disturb their sleep patterns during war, which is important to fighting men.  A small act of victory, for a small man, yet grander than anything even the Silver Fox could comprehend. 
   Mosby was an anomaly.  Spent time in jail.  Carried peppered steel.  Would not submit to a giant, nor did King David.  Disturbed the giant's rest.  The Apple of His Mother's Eye.  A sick man.  A small man.  A part of history, erased.  But he liveth . . .