Dutchboy Splendiferous (1)

   
   "Dutchboy Splendiferous (1)"
   
   FOREWARD:

   Not to make peace, but She is the Queen of Peace, and some people need reflection and introspection, getting the beam out of their own eyes, before attempting to take it out of their brother's or sister's, as Christ kinda/sorta mentioned.  Hey Mouth from the South, they did my blood work and took a urine sample by diving deep into my urethra; as a result--no illegal narcotics (told you); plus, the alcohol levels were nothing.  Wake up and smell the Folgers of False Testimony.  Too bad I have the freedom and liberty to get my medical records.  Anyway, I'm not pissed, and can say the OUR FATHER honestly, for I forgive all of your trespasses, because I know you drink the Kool-Aid--it is not completely your fault.

Here we go now--the story ignites concerning a rebellious and autistic-like youth affected by drama and comedy, especially concerning the Nordic Prankster, the only friend I ever had; specifically, I called him, Dutch.
  
   Dutch's mother said to him:  "Dutch, you're always walking around with that jocular grin, and Mark is close behind, in a state of amused trauma, wondering what you'll drag him into next, but be thankful that you have a loyal sidekick."
   I had my first beer with Dutch.  Smoked my first green tobacco with Dutch, back when I was a punk kid.  My brother always called me a punk, but he was just afraid that Mom loved the special baby more than him--it's not his fault to have such trepidation, not completely.
   Dutch was a rogue.  A prank-playing swashbuckler.  Han Solo with firecrackers, toilet paper, eggs, an XR 200, which ran like a scalded dog; plus, a bit of an arrogant bigot.  But can you completely blame him?  He had a big package, blonde hair like wheat, and the bluest eyes of anyone I've ever seen.  Too, his sister was definitely magnanimous and altruistic, and would drink a cold Bud with us on a hot Arkansas day, down there in the sticks of the Dirty South.  This backwards Yankee learned plenty form the Nordic Cooter.
   Thus, it will go.  Now and forever.  As did Kerouac write a story in a matter of metaphorical minutes concerning a friend better than him--so shall I.  

Virgin Ninja (18)

   
   "Virgin Ninja (18)"

   At the Carmelite Monastery, a very bucolic and Gothic atmosphere, Sister Nelson and Joanna Blanc were walking, and on the grass, though wearing sandals (Air Messiah), so as not to get parasites underneath the crispy feelings of their bare feet, yet to touch Terra, allowing her a kiss from their corporeal saunter; moreover, the conversation was--like this:

SISTER NELSON
People only want to win, Joanna.  That's their problem.  Mystics don't argue though.  Buddha said we suffer because we want things; also, King David said that the Lord is his Shepherd, and he shall not want.  You have to end competition, in the sense of bigotry; nobody is a loser.  Malcolm X statues are up, yet nobody tears them down.  Whites don't do that, mostly, save to their own people's freaking aspects.  So why tear down some crummy redneck rebel?  I'm from Buffalo--I could give a rat's ass.

JOANNA
(A shocked look on her face due to the honest vulgarities.)  Sister!?!  How can you cuss?

SISTER NELSON
They threw a 90 MPH fastball at Tebow's head the other day.  Knocked his helmet off.  If it would've hit him in the ear; next, he would've been dead.  I would've charged the pitcher, and definitely with the bat.  Rebuke your bother that sins against you and never apologizes.  We're all the same.  Stuck on this crummy planet; as a result, we should make the best of it.  So, calm your ninja, and quit kicking so much ass.  There's always Saint Michael, and he's just a trash-man, taking out the garbage.  But no rich man mocks his silent power.

   Joanna Blanc picked up the allegory of it all.  

Passion of Christ Trailer

Escape from New York - Duke dies

Burgundy

   
   "Burgundy"

   A just war is always a honorable war; however, control your power.
   They attempt to separate.  False mantras for years.  Brainwashing.  Thieve away axioms.  D-Day saved the day, yet it was the Russians who bled over Germany, mostly.
   They hate; as a result, the say you hate.  They steal your dowry.  Shakespeare spoke of this, as does the Book of Tobit.  Yet Raphael is there--catch the fish; moreover, the Fool Card and little white dog; hence, go Northwest--even the Iroquois instruct this.
   They tell you that you have no rights, yet you have as many rights as the President--and don't ever forget:  The President has rights too.  A President that won't transform America, but preserve it.
   Crazy Yankee say he drop big bomb on us--we have women and children.
   As Confucius says:  "An ignorant man is more dangerous than an educated man."
   And as the Greatest Son of Man boldly stated:  "If your brother sins against you; next, rebuke him, yet if he asks for forgiveness; then, forgive him."
    Nobody I know has ever apologized; thus, I do as the Virgin Mary said, giving the most potent of ALL Commandments:  "Do as My Son says."  

Star Wars: "Go To The Dagobah System" - Old Edit.

1968 GT 350

   
   "1968 GT 350"
   
   
   I had a weird and wily small block as an adolescent--a GLX, with possibly:  A 4.2 Liter armed with 255 or 260 cubic inches and a two barrel.  A cop pulled me over in the 1980's when LX 5.0's and GT's were all the rage--he said:  "Boy, what the hell is a GLX."  Weird and wily stuff, like Johnny Carson used to say, back in the day; moreover, he liked Corvettes.  So, here's the GT 350--like this:

V-8 and Water-Cooled.

Horses:  250.

302 Cubic Inches.

0-60:  6.3 Seconds.

Quarter Mile Gallop:  14.9 Seconds @ 94 MPH.

Top Speed:  119 MPH.