Robert Palmer - Simply Irresistible (Live in NYC - 1997)

Hell kicked me out for selling ice cream

   
   "Hell kicked me out for selling ice cream"
   
   "Got to hell, King."  That's what my 9th grade teacher told me; however, I was not to be scorched iniquitously, responding with my cousin's comeback--Winston Wood's words:  "I already went there, but they kicked me out for selling ice cream."
   Christ knows this well.  He lit it up.  He is:  ANGEL OF GREAT COUNSEL.  Look @ Pontius Pilate's physical description of Christ, and I believe it hangs in the National Library of Congress, saying, kinda/sorta:  "Chestnut hair, and blazing eyes."  Who are we to resist evil, when Christ mentioned not to?  And His Mother, our Mother, saying:  "Do as My Son says."  But they fear the Mother, for they have an Oedipus Complex, though we will pray for them to watch Notre Dame football with Touchdown Jesus.
   Weird is white.  Don't be afraid of a rainbow merging into the unification of salvation.  Raise your vibrations to a frequency divine--and maybe the government will thieve away your instruments as they did with Tesla.  We'll never know it all, but plenty have the fundamentals.  
   Just love, walk on the grass and feel Mother Earth, but be cautious of planted parasites if you're barefoot.  Get sandals, like Jesus, or as I call them:  "Air Messiah."  No offense to Michael Jordan's 1980's celebrity, but God has His Own Celebrities, and forty days paint a beard on a pretty face.  The Son is the Mother, and the Father--a synergy of elegantly AWESOME.  

Thoracic Animus (12)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (12)"
   
   The inter-dimensional, circular-shaped craft landed, and Harry, him naming himself such, after having watched Harry and the Hendersons on the World Wide Web, departed from his alien vehicle, stepping onto the Eastern Dakota Earth with his big feet, and shouted, it meaning:  "Happy Easter!!!"
   He didn't understand why nobody was reading the Bible anymore.  Especially about Jacob and Esau, for Esau is the Hairy Man, while Jacob had smooth skin.  And while Harry liked both brothers, he did like manscaping guys, such as Robert Palmer, Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli, and Jack Kerouac in his camel-haired coat.  These guys were sharp-dressed men.
   But Harry wasn't depressed, loving himself, and hoping a bionic Steve Austin was not waiting for him in the woods.  But his on-board computer said only Mutt, his Uncle, and Tanya were nearby; thus, knowing they were semi-benevolent types, just garden-variety hicks more or less, he decided to make contact, though knew he'd have to teleport away quickly if a crossbow bolt came in his direction, not wanting to be like Saint Joan of Arc and get hit by such a violent weapon that could bring down a Grizzly.  

You know what Ol' Jack Burton always says...

Thoracic Animus (11)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (11)"
  
   Tanya followed Mutt back to his campfire, where his Uncle was lubricating the crossbows--him still in heavy anticipation concerning bagging a Squatch.  Mutt introduced his Uncle to Tanya, and the threesome sat, making coffee mixed with cloves for the sanitary effects within their corporeal aspects; next, the conversation did shine, like the big neon glitter above.

TANYA
So, Mr. Uncle--why are you hunting Bigfoot?

UNCLE
Hell, just for the kicks, and to be famous, like William Blake wanted.  The poet got it in the end, after dying a penniless old man considered a crank.

TANYA
You sound kinda on the crank spectrum.

UNCLE
Thanks.  And hell, I'm a Yankee, but I understand the metaphysics of Uncle Jesse and them Duke boys.

TANYA
Always liked Boss Hog myself.  He dressed like Faulkner and Twain; plus, Colonel Sanders.  

MUTT
I could really go for some chicken.

TANYA
Grilled or crispy?

MUTT
I don't have the digestive tract of a coyote, so I'd go with grilled, and some salt, pepper, and turmeric.

TANYA
Damn dude--that sounds nasty.  Need mine fried--deep fried.

UNCLE
How would you like your Hairy Man cooked?

TANYA
Ain't hunting him to eat him old timer.  Just want him to talk, and have him tell me, at least, the fundamentals of Earthly existence.

   Mutt pondered his crappy, bizarre life.  But it was Holy Saturday, and Jesus LIGHTS it ALL up.  

INXS - Jimmy Barnes - Good Times (Live)

Thoracic Animus (10)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (10)"
   
   Leaving his depressed dog with his Uncle @ the campfire, Mutt went into the woods to drain the lizard; moreover, his urethra was more relaxed in nature as his negative blood did not pick up on the vibrations of a frequently cruel society.  After zipping up, he spotted a lovely lass, her zipping up as well, after a female squat, underneath the smooth shimmer of a waning Pink Moon; next, the conversation sparked.

MUTT
Hello, my name's Mutt.  What are you doing out here, young lady?

TANYA
I'm Tanya, sucka.  And I'm hunting me some Hairy Man--don't want to stuff him--just to give me some answers.  You see, the world calls me a freak.  My Dad was from Ivory Coast, and my Mom an American with Irish/French roots.  Bigfoot has been harassing my beautiful gel, and I want some answers out of his hairy ass.

MUTT
I'm not the shiniest coin in the fountain; thus, I'm just tagging along with my Uncle.  Don't wanna kill nothing, just love my depressed dog.  I'm half Mohawk and half Serbian.  Nobody in America likes the American Indian, and if you're born on our soil, well, everybody then is a Native American, but my Chief doesn't drink the Kool-Aid.  

TANYA
They call me an Aunt Tom at times.  But I'm more mixed than Johnny Depp's fourth drink from room service, before he trashes the hotel room.

MUTT
It sounds like we might get along.  If you like depressed dogs.

TANYA
Can the dog hunt?

MUTT
All he does is cry.  And I feed him organic dog food.  I'm so lost.

TANYA
Maybe you just made a friend.