Chris Christie and his elephantine addictions

   
   "Chris Christie and his elephantine addictions"
  
    Nobody running for the Republican theocratic-like control of America is more of an addictive lard ass than Chris Christie.  Verily, gluttony is a wicked sin, and only Mexico outshines with cottage cheese in their buttocks--them the only country more obese and gross while we whither the starving Abrahamic regions away with shock and awe--a hubris-filled son finishing his Daddy's war by slaughtering millions of innocents that had nothing to do with 9/11.  And just like marijuana being illegal birthed shit like meth, W. spawned ISIL.  Killing Muslims for America is like shooting fish in the barrel, but if we have to face Russia or China, megadeaths will belong to the proud American soldier.  An approximate 58,000 of poor kids unable to avoid the draft by getting into college wasted for no magnanimous reason were murdered in Vietnam.  What might the twisted Ezra Pound bard:

There died a myriad,
And of the best among them,
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization.  
   
   But back to Chris Christie's stinky body odor, most likely--he's a freaking addict.  A Mafia-like madman prosecuting liberty and freedom due to the innate nature of a bully.  Cupcakes fear him with great phobia, and his arteries are more clogged than Hillary's wicked cauldron full of damnation. 
   Like the late Nixon, she suffers from a tremendous fear of whether she's liked by the public masses or not--you can see it in her psychotically gleaming eyes.  And as for Ben Carson needing to hear a pragmatic reason against abortion--the answer is Hitler.  People mix, and once you roll the genetic dice randomly--you never know what you're going to get.  "I hated you even in the womb" has been mentioned in Holy Text as well.  
   Regardless of all these failures of weak and self-loving candidates, Christie's addiction to fatty food proves an axiomatic sense of clinical depression--there is no greater addict running than him.  And we all die!  We all fucking die.  Before Percy Shelley was haunted by his doppelganger he gave a similar ode:

How wonderful is death and his brother sleep,
One pale as yonder waning Moon,
The other soft with lips of lurid blue--
One rosy as the morn
When throned on ocean's wave
It blushes over the world.  

The Failures Of Modern Medicine

   
   "The Failures Of Modern Medicine"
    
   The visionary English bard axiomatically knew:  "People who control their emotions do so because they have weak emotions."
   The mentally ill, blamed for mass shootings--how many people have perished since the tragedy of Columbine?  Regardless, in 2013 an approximate reporting of 41,139 suicides--obviously, modern medication is a demonic falsehood.
   Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors--the ultimate joke in regulating psychological unrest; plus, benzodiazepines, known on the streets as dolls, downers, goofballs, whatever, increase sensitivity to depression even further--in many cases.  But herb-derived medicines have always proven to work and thieve away the mad melancholy of man, even though fools chase dragons out of social unrest--these medicines barded by King David in the Book of Psalms, him being the greatest of all the Biblical heroes save Jesus Himself.  Chase the high and you will die; ingest with reverence and you will live.
   Yet the controlling government has a wicked control over Earth's sublime nature, them in a nefarious and twisted synergy with pharmacists--and what good are cop-controlled pharmacists anymore?  They can't even make a club sandwich nowadays.  
   Governments, especially in the hubris-filled Southern States where many reptiles reside, refuse the ill, challenging them with discomfort and demonic negativity.  The quasi-governments of the Southern States should be marched before "The Hague" and face their due punishment for the myriads of suicides; indeed, due to lack of appreciation for the healing nature of Earth--there will be millions of megadeaths, especially since there are more suicides than wounded warriors killing men armed only with sling shots in the Abrahamic regions, where God's Power resides.  
   I know illness--since my botched birth to my 43 years of age I have bravely endured chronic pain, bloody bowel movements, unearthly anguish, and plenty of other demonic shit.  But who gives a damn about the ill-fated?  Maybe we should take Chris Christie's jelly doughnuts away before he swiftly quicksilvers himself into cardiac arrest.  Or make alcohol illegal, as it offers more bizarre behavior than any other substance known to man.  
   Like Reagan informed the globe about a Greater Force, offering:  "Are they not already among us?"  

Anguish versus Depression

   
   "Anguish versus Depression" 
   
   The Living Christ had not lost interest--the main factor in depression.   Losing interest is the monstrous truth of depression.  Yet He knew anguish all too well.  What does the Holy Catholic Church proclaim of Our Lord and Savior?  "He was obedient even unto death."
   A demigod, half man, born of the best and most altruistic virgin--all the lesser gods were using virgins as biological construction for demigods, but the Abrahamic God chose the apex of purity in a fourteen year old girl.  And Christ, the Apostle, as mentioned in the Koran, symmetrically merged with the Holy Spirit Itself, surfing on the many colorful hues of varying sublimity like a magnanimous Kahuna.  He was the Living Torah--the Law in the flesh, knowing Luther and the rest could not limit God to the Bible or merely one verse listed, knowing:  "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word breathed from the mouth of God."
   Thus, Protestants listen:  All followers of the Living Christ don't need to be similar robots programmed with a singular perspective.  King David, having an almost psychotic love for God rocked many a woman's carnal world, the Virgin Mother was as pure as the platinum snow, and Saint Peter pissed his pants with phobic energy before the Holy Spirit overwhelmed his fears, forging him into the ROCK, the Bishop of Rome and architect of the most ancient aspect of Christianity.  
   Followers of Christ can be peculiar, quirky, conservative, or even coyote-like, but they must possess wisdom at the end of the day--wisdom:  A verb.  A thing in action.  Knowing what is right and doing what is right, regardless of reward or consequence, just as Krishna explained to a man afraid to enter battle for holy purpose.  But wisdom begins with fear of God, and Christ knows:  "You don't want to face Him without Me."
   Still, anguish weighs heavy on the Saints and losers in life.  Ultimately their deaths are gore-smeared and unappreciated due to the nature of wealth and status being the Duck Dynasty-bearded King of Our America.  Without money, one has less freedom in America.  Hard work gains nothing save muscle spasms and more anguish.  It is all a social game to be played for the money that grants more freedom.  A freedom deserved for all, but without lawyers, doctors, and hot babes in your pistol-packing pocket; then, you will know the truth of a media-driven country, showcasing its asshole to determine the outcome of elections and anguish itself.   

Earth's Demonology

   
   "Earth's Demonology"
    
   Prisons, insane asylums, urban apartments, and suburban homes--all house the wicked and weird supernatural.   Mental illness is not singularly illness, but sometimes a sinister infusion of Legion's resound, yet we turn off the supposed fiction of axiomatic truth, our modern and still ancient science stupidly unable to gel with theologians and the hidden truth of the pseudo-sciences.  
   Psychosis is a word--it has an ambiguous meaning; moreover, it is rarely treated with herbs, incense, prayer, and an intensity to connect with the super-sublimity of the Holy Spirit.  Material gain, fast-paced friends with benefits, fleeting fame, and good tits surgically implanted in your darling daughter for her high school graduation dominate the dastardly deals with the devil.  And we consider these people the victorious on Earth; still, they will fantastically fade into tumor-ridden hunchbacks suffering their lose of life, sadly passing without spiritual meaning due to science's braggadocio concerning the myth of the Otherworld, for we have not constructed the technology to counteract the abuse of the intangible.  Verily, we think TODAY is the apex of knowledge--it is totally not!  In ten or a hundred years from now, our science will be outdated and utterly viewed as historically stupid.
   Speaking in languages never having been heard before, or having demon-filled people know your inner secrets that you have never revealed prove the existence of a superior race of beings, playing us like a game of checkers.  And while wolfsbane and Haldol put Lycanthropy into remission--these scientific exorcisms are only momentary.
   Truly, we must share God's dream--not ours.  Yes, I'm tempted by firm, symmetrical breasts, but I'd rather walk with Saint Francis and rub his wolf's belly; plus, share my Slim Jim with him.
   A State University physician has absolutely "no chance" of properly treating a soul made foul by way of diabolical possession; next, cops arrest the infected victim, he's sodomized in prison, and the demon grows stronger, all while the conservatives laugh at the victim having dropped the soap in our cruel American Prisons.  Buddy--keep up the hilarity, for you will get yours.  Your love of creature comforts will quicksilver you with much mercury into a stupefied state of Pandemonium.  Unless of course you sense the absolute nature of the Ultimate God and the lesser gods beneath Him, offering them the reverence they deserve.   

Catholic School, Butts Kicked, & Sister Shaq Diesel

   
   "Catholic School, Butts Kicked, & Sister Shaq Diesel"
    
   My history teacher, punishing me for an outburst I did not commit--even in that mistake of violence, I really didn't give a rat's ass, just let it awesomely propel my pulsating infamy.
   He, the history teacher, grabbed me from my desk, during the 9th grade mind you, threw me up against the chalk board, lashed me numerous times on my back with a yardstick; next, made me kneel on the heater, praying to the heater god for obedience.  Too, my Catholic Football Coach violently slapped my face-masked face for not tackling with a sincere intensity--good for the man-smelling Coach.  I suffered two fractures playing ball that freshmen year, and I initiated no litigation against the school.  A school where you could mystically invoke the Holy Spirit, God Himself, Christ, or the Virgin Mother without getting suspended or arrested.
   Better to be a spirited coyote nowadays, surviving on rabbit marrow, burping up and shitting the remains on your adversary's front porch during the sublime mischief of Halloween.  However, in today's America, CSI will test the fecal matter and you'll get three years in the sodomizing pokey; moreover, the liberal feminists don't give a holy damn concerning a man's intestinal tract suffering many megadeaths and the ruination of proper stool formation, ever-after.  What a great fucking country.
   Like when I crafted a bizarre yet magnanimous poem containing no fighting words, no clear and present danger; plus, it was ambiguous, and I was wrongfully threatened with the wicked dream of prosecution to appease the sanctimonious fiction of a mentally-deranged girl full of a fervent sex drive, contaminating my Bill of Rights with a condemnation birthed out of wounded pride.  Don't ever think it's over.  This life is just the womb, and it all comes back on you.  As for me--I was already kicked out of hell for selling ice cream.   

POST SCRIPT:  I love you Sister Shaq Diesel.    

Legion Infusion

   
   "Legion Infusion"
    
   Cut from Mom's belly; next, cooked to life in incubation like a skittish coyote and hijacked from my homeland, losing knowledge of my mighty cousins and uncles, forever.  Then, anchored in the southern region billowing with selfish hubris and peacock-like pageantry--if General Lee would've humbly plucked some feathers from his ornamental apparel, maybe his unappreciated soldiers would've had shoes.  These generals made due to wealth and status, not strategic wisdom.
   And now; plus, after 1,000 years before the Almighty cage can no longer contain the contagion of fear--they are implanted in us by terror, chips, blood, and an underground government that rewards our sinister leaders with demonic favors.  Yes, I'm a bit wacky.  So was Nietzsche and Little Saint Francis, though I am a dog compared to them.  And every Good Shepherd needs a sheep dog.  
   Regardless, the phobia concerning Christ--a half man infused by the Good Ghost, that Holy Spirit, possibly a feminine aspect gelled with the Almighty God--though one Abrahamic religion informs that it is not necessary to put the Gods next to God; indeed, God is the Father of the Multiverse.  But the Catholics and Orthodox are the True Christians save Tim Tebow; unfortunately, the demons hate his gladiatorial nature--look, some of us intensely need the mesh of the Holy Trinity and the four leaf clover that the Virgin Herself adorns with special miracles, as may the Russian Poet Pushkin give ode--and he did!
   But whether there is a singular demon or myriads--they fear the lack of caring for material gain and status as did the penniless Rabbi, Our Living Christ.   

Asymmetrical Nation

   
   "Asymmetrical Nation"
    
   Putin offers informative observations concerning Our America--police criminal mischief and brutish brutality!!!  Moreover, King David, the most read bard, has been robbed of imported elixirs and herbs for the ill-fated, a power hungry, hubris-filled government controlling our chance at comfort.  Try being sick.  Asymmetrical.  Shapeless.  Maybe you'll succeed like the fiction of Forrest Gump; maybe, probably--you will not!
   Violently maligned and shackled by the corruption of swine, bullied by the hot-tempered envy of others, their green eyes never shimmering effulgent like a supermodel; plus, we had an American President with dumb-shit intelligence, him maliciously murdering myriads of innocents in the Abrahamic God's special region, constructing wicked karma for our ancient settlers, before immigration flooded and morphed our country away from the settled and converted European kids who bravely defended us in World War 2, doing plenty more than serve the hate of nations, becoming a hated mix of malcontent misfits, for the most part--not all.  Forgetting our once great mantra:  "It's a free country!"  Indeed--no longer.  A quasi-police state, in the least.  Forgotten is the chaste, inviolate, caring Mother of God, women now fornicating into female mutations while their heart-broken men lose the synergy of true love.  And even supersymmetry can burst a change.  The wicked adder hacking into the creation of the Multiverse during God's resting period.  And we seek not the friendship of the Celestial Hierarchy, them heretical religions denying anything but the proud apex of God Himself, as if they deserve to be birthed brilliant, guardian angels losing human interest, and your parents terribly perish in a slow-burning death without knowing the pity and mercy of family saints.  We have forgotten unearthly clarity.  Where's the mercy--oh, I guess that's reserved for the weak, and then our proud leaders claim the benevolence of the Living Christ. 
   Remember:  We slaughter tens of thousands each year in America--the American Coyote.  The ultimate survivor, armed with a digestive tract that rivals the most obese of abusers.  The American Indian knew:  "He will bring God to man."