Sparky Puma--clawed extension

   Sparky Puma--clawed extension

   I, me, shit, ya know by now--you pluralistic fruitcakes--don't say ya don't know the Sparky-doodle-coodle-fruitle-thingamajig-picklepussypiper, yet a chastity belt until love unlocks, and ex-hubby--yuck, armed with the noxious nasty, and I still miss THUNDERCATS, not the reboot, but kinda cat-like cool, the Lion with Emerald Eyes mind ya.

   I don't like little kids, unless baptized by the last Hebrew Prophet, in some opinions, surviving on locusts and honey, though Solomon reminds not to gorge, unless feeding the bears.  Cats got cooler claws--in my opinion; at the same time, who doesn't love a Mother Bear adoring her Cubs?

   So, I was listening to Miyagi--not even cats like snakes, but don't mind them.  You don't bother me; next, I (Sparky Puma) won't bother you; however, piss in my Chinese Soup, I go back to My Pride.  And Florida.  Where the hell are the Surf Punks?  Too big for her top; next, the strings are gonna pop.  Nasty dudes.  My eyes are up here, not my nuclear buxomlishishness. But can you really blame delinquent dudes?  All those little submarines regenerating daily.  Once a month for us ladies, and yet Pumas pick a proud mate.  The solitary mountain feline.  Grizzly Adams--I reflect upon you sir.  Shit, why can't I just be a park ranger?

   My Westie White (Jubles), well--crazy nation.  Yappy and scrappy.  Who would've thought?  A dog is protecting this non-commercialized meow-mix.  Gotcha Jubles.  And may Almighty God have me in the palm of His Hand.  Trust nothing more than a Father, Son, Holy Ghost--the Author of Perpetual Life--dudes, Jesus already wrote the Book.  Live it.  Live/Eternal Action.  God Bless.  Sparky Puma out, maybe.  Maybe not . . .

is protecting this pussalicious.  

Sparky Puma

 
   SPARKY PUMA

    I don't know why I'm a vagabond vagrant; moreover, never even went to a barber-shop and read any of Kilgore Trout's latest books--is that delinquent but delicious dude still self-publishing?

   Miss the Irish girl in Arkansas, but I'm not supposed to have those thoughts, sisterly love, and my ex-husband got all the money because my claws would come out, and it wasn't even regulated by the full-effects of Luna's tide-pulling potency--I would just stare at the fish-tank, thinking:  "Bubbles, gulps, yummy."

   So, I packed my Gran Torino with the big block Cleveland; next, headed to Florida with my Westie White, and yes, I spell it Westie.  I always named people on Soap Operas different names, unearthing the forbidden Fruit Loops, like:  my ex-hubby and most folks have multiple identities, which isn't illegal, in most cases.

   Nobody will hire me, and my retarded niece smokes dope and gets a job at Burger Kingalishish in like a day--go figure the system--I hope they don't want my feline parts--and what a mess that would make them, I kill bugs on contact, but can't walk away from a rerun of THUNDERCATS; specifically, the show is always playing in my mind.  And thinking about Jesus too.  Like He's my Uncle or something, watching me, making sure I'm polite and wash my hands--cats do like water ya know, depending on the spirit of the soul.  Soul = spirit and body mind ya--know your Latin.

   I'd make a great park ranger, and always loved Chuck Norris--not even his furry chest bothered me.  My name is Sparky Puma.  I keep having wacky adventures.  And why the hell are there shell-fish parts in sardines?  That kinda is the ruination of all the health benefits--me thinks.  

Money 4 Scarlet Market

   Money 4 Scarlet Market 

   Larry and the quasi-Mason pseudo-Nancy Brown and Notary Fraud on Highway 70.  Some soul needed Mom's ichor (possibly) or parts ya say and ya'll collect the cash.  Maybe not.  What was I giving her?  I tainted her and me.  Or maybe not.  Enjoy what u cannot control.   And silly phoney Joanie--they'll waste u too, metaphorically.  U didn't even have a buzz-cutt as expected. 
    Read the Eagle's Epistles.  If u turn on ur family--you'll be in bondage for eternity.
   Hey ACLU!  In the Confessional at Saint Matthews in Franklin they tell people nasty shit about sex.  I'll testify.  Or maybe I won't.  Doctors, thank you sirs.  Besides the schmos. 

TY Christos

   TY Christos

   Pop Stars and the French.  Guess "Field of Dreams" wasn't exactly speculative fiction.  
   Je vous merci.  Oops, one more time, yet class is true grit and gives merit. 
   He came not to bring peace, but a sword--Blake loved that quote, the mere tradesman as mentioned by a snob dubbed Fraiser Crane, but he'd be great to have a Bud Heavy with. 
   All in all, got nothing without Jesus.  The Epistle of John was it--who was he talking to?  Maybe you brothers and sisters. 

Red, White, Blue Doves

     
   Red, White, Blue Doves

   Remember Hacksaw Jim; moreover, guy played ball at SMU, and the crowd would chant:  "USA!"

   Mom always said she liked that.  My friend Jesse's Dad said Hacksaw looked crazy carrying that two-by-four.  It's wrestling.  Real entertainment.

   Miss my kid.  I saw him struggle with his conscience when I explained to him about philosophically cool things.  Mom always wanted him to live with us; however, we were put in charge of ferrying other people's children, as if their servants; still, we love them, and did our jobs; thus, why are they mad at us for obeying our entire lives?  Was it not enough?

   Bertha fought.  Drank coffee by the gallon.  Laughed.  Watched Sci-Fi.  Grandmas have the best of love.  I ponder La Sainte Vierge's Mom.  I bet she was great.  Kinda reminds me of the old lady in that Vin Diesel movie, yet she wasn't all that cool.  I always got along with the elderly.  People in need love everyone.  Saw an old man get ketchup (Heinz) when I first moved to Little Rock near 1980.  All he got was the ketchup.  He was beautiful.

   Reading a book on werecats.  Heck, they got were-everything nowadays.  It's not nice to thieve people's hard-earned or deserved finances.  Maybe somebody will do it to you.  Always give a hobo a dollar, and Bertha fed them; plus, as I mentioned, coffee.  She always had her coffee.  Love ya Bert.  You too Pap.  You guys were like my parents.  

God is Good, Cap

   God is Good, Cap

   Oh well--people just keep up with the nasty.  My Father is not very happy.  What u sow--you reap. We know Miyagi--Karate for defense only.  Why make us defend ourselves?
   And ladies, if u lust--well, just be brave enough to ask.  God rewards the brave--only they get into Valhalla. And Bragi is admitted into all realms.
   I know everybody knows.  Get over it.  Go fishing.  Listen to Chopin.  U attack due to fear.  You're afraid.  Love comes in peace.  Don't be a schmo.  Rosie already put nuclear contagion in my pasta.  I always loved Rosie, but she is a naughty lass, transcending curvaceous, and eclipses Mother Moon, or so she thought.
   My Father lets Mom have the reckoning. 

Android, even mutant rights

   ANDROID, EVEN MUTANT RIGHTS

   Holy Fire--where is Professor X?  I believe people are being discriminated against by Belle Meade attorneys.  Good thing about lawyers--they all hate each other
   People should speak up about discrimination.  We should file lawsuits against workplaces that won't hire.  And adopting dogs is always a splendid idea.  
   Just nice to know certain spirits have a Father that hears and answers.  So,  ask ur Father--He'll kick their butts.  God has a sense of humor.