Indigo Samson (19)

   
   "Indigo Samson (19)"
   
   There was a weird one.  Aren't these all weird?  Time fluxing, being recklessly relative.  Duplicates of people at the grocery store and the Chinese massage parlors, where ten dollar do make you holler; plus, fat boy with nukes, and a blonde Trumpet blowing truth--you're about as much American Indian as Jim Plunkett--not even that, for he drew offensive plays in the muddy Earth, playing not NERF football, but risking his life to entertain in a NORTH DALLAS 40 Circus of sorts, before you were a glimmer in your father's eye; moreover, your biological father only, and yet you reject the TRUTH, finding solace in the illusion of man, angels, and giants--yes, you do, due to their cold six-pack and reality television, and now, with dragons and zombies you are given a soul-washed sanctuary, it being nothing but a sanctuary sinking.  The eternal water sign, IS Miriam, girlfriend, and she did not repent, but showed it the psychology of Calvary; specifically, the Cross, that carried timber till sanguine culmination; next, ALPHA, and like His allegorical Father, David the Bard/Fighter, Christ fulfilled the Prophets, by healing with an internal war of justice against manipulation and exploitation, yet as the LITANY boldly and sweetly goes:  THROUGH YOUR JOYS!!!
   Miriam gave Buck a petting stroke, Platonic, yet coated in the fidelity of features, knowing a man's face tells no lies, and that a smiling Franciscan, in all of his discomfort, loves to sleep on the cold floor, get naked, jump into thorn bushes, preach next to the neglected, and catch fish as told by Saint Raphael in the Book of Tobit, the Fool Card, and yet--HEAL.  Those on experimental chemotherapy not approved by the FDA @ the time, well, they need to heal, not be put to work instead of shaming their mothers, when their mothers are their lifeline, and only another's pride and envy would drive them, or you in reality, to make them do that, and they strip themselves naked, become virgins, wash their robes, and wait for the Lord on His White Horse, not gay, but engaged to eternally pursue Yonder Thataways.
   Miriam loved to hear the Boss 429 cam.  It was headers; plus, over-stressed outtake and intake, though not glass packs, on redneck tires gone California Yankee.  She loved thy neighbor, especially if the blood was family, though forgiving; however, the blood is the life.  Fidelity, and not nasty girlfriends is the glue of liquor, smoke, and card-playing during Christmas, going totally Old School, with Serbian Orthodox hay on the floor to welcome Christ Jesus.  Gotta love you.  Too, gotta love me.   

INXS - Jimmy Barnes - Good Times (Live)

Guns N' Roses - Nice Boys

The Cult - Big Neon Glitter

'Jonah Hex' Trailer HD

Don't not do it

   
   "Don't not do it"
  
   When you stop dreaming that you can't have beautiful things, you cease to exist, go into depression, and become fuzzy.  Keep your eyes on the Grand Tacoburger.  Keep your eyes on the awesomeness of  Almighty God.  Ubiquitous; specifically, for all of you brainwashed college kids, He's everywhere, Being Totally Unlimited.  I'm not wending Pantheistic here, but maybe, and a little bit of Animism too.  Frequency and Vibration.
   But Christ is a cool aspect of God--the Vine, and we are the branches.  Yes, I fornicated with a seedless watermelon, and it was organic, during my 20's.  I apologized to God, but not to the watermelon.
   Get over it.  Even the psychology of the Cross is better than nothing.  Yet to know the Cross is True, well, that instructs instead of repeals.  I'm brutally honest, but I have discipline.  I have no Earth woman.  
   At the same time, the birds in the morning.  The hot cup of coffee.  Chinese food.  Dogs--all canines; plus, that of  Civil War movies, seeing how gore-smeared life can truly be.  We have it pretty darn sweet, at this moment.  Even if it gets worse, you gotta dream, escaping into the Otherworld; otherwise, things will get fuzzy.  

I don't "do" Earth women

   "I don't "do" Earth women"
   
   Yup, I don't do Earth women--sorry ladies of this planet, unless you're visiting; next, me love you long time.  
   Too, Rod Stewart doesn't appear to be human.  He's Forever Young; plus:  "If you want his body, and you think he's sexy, come on sugar let him know."
   When I got my first Rod Stewart album back in the early 1980's, my Dad told me the dude was a toots.  My Dad was Northern European, and preferred his own blonde locks over Mister Stewart's.  
   Go Notre Dame.