Tribal Mentality

   
   Tribal Mentality


   It's all real Bubba Cheese.  Agendas.  Too, aliens, Masons, firetrucks, hookers, etc., 
   Can't we all get along?  Nope. People are in bondage to their greed save the super-sublime.  Joseph lost his family due to envious brothers. But gregariouslly gelled with the Egyptians, shaving his head and being mummified. 
   Everybody knows. Even silence gets u slayed.  Remember the lowly man commanded to warn of the One,True God. He's wise to be a pious bastard.  As David mentioned:  "Fear only God."
   Iniquity requires one thing.  Agreement. 
   Dodgers still can do the Bob Conrad punch out thing.  Mr. J. Church--throw this dog a bone. 

Sparky Puma--what

   Sparky Puma--what

   I could have been a Nun, yet they rejected me.  So, used to being loathed save by sweet and brave people, I married ex-hubby and wrote poetry while folding his underwear all day, taking out trash, and cooking.  Moreover, all the rest.  Then he noticed I was a shape-shifting Puma and got all racist on me. 
   People fear what they are not.  Heck, I love my dog Jubles, and for all that he is.  Secret:  An angel dog.  Thanks Tobias.  I'll keep washing and burying dead animals I find.  And I only eat fish except when I can't afford it.  Been living on meow-mix for one week.  Heck, other people have it worse.  Praise ya Jesus.  You are my vine. ####

Father Mark Sap-Face: I'm coming 4 u

   Father Mark Sap-Face:  I'm coming 4 u

   Enjoy dressing up in infant clothing at Saint Matthews?  Ride the Hershey monks?  Just asking.  When u die, ur personally satanic homily, is the best day of ur life--so die Father--if u desire a good day, it's all allegory here, mind ya. 
   You said it--not Christ.   Ur an embarrassment to Rome and are the monks.   Couldn't kill what u targeted--nope.  I am there.  In you and the monks.  U look at me or think of me--enjoy the bones. 
   U asked for this.  U hate the Hebrews.  The King is in the Field, pulling weeds.  Why would u team up with Masons?  Even Kennedy detested them.
   Thank U David, seed of Jesse.  Bless the Lord O my soul and all that is within me--praise ye the Lord--all the lands.  I've been on my deathbed.  Don't allow fear to put u in bondage.  Think:  Clint Eastwood.   No shit.
   4 the Orthodox--right to left baby, just like Christos separates the lambs from the goats.  Every Good Shepherd needs a sheep dog. 

Sparky Puma--yikes

   Sparky Puma--yikes

   Holy Cow.  Not Cosmic Cow.  Just saw a "Too Close For Comfort" rerun.  Pretty girls, curious non-chicking eating subplots.  Yet Cheyenne passed at 90.  Big, gentle Hollywood.  How sublime is the Grit Channel?
   Florida isn't so bad.  I give Jubles Gatorade and treats with elderberry.  We exercise plenty.  I miss my home, yet not.  If only ex-hubby didn't hate my Jesus freak that lives inside.  A Free Country mind ya. 
   People and their agendas.  Some cats like America as intended.  A simple non-molested Bill of Rights without greedy attorney corruption.  Let's edit the 10 Commandments u schmos.
    Just give a shit.  I always scoop Jubles' poop and change my litter box.

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.