Star Wars Episode II - Obi-Wan Kenobi meets Jango Fett

Ode to Jango Fett

   
   "Ode to Jango Fett"
  
   You bastards, just joking, possibly; anyway, he didn't need no wussified light-sword, nor the power of the Force flowing through him, for he had balls of steel, and you wish, but:  make sure to wish on white, brother, and I love ya.
   You don't bitch at someone unless you love them.  If you don't correct their errors; next, you're the son of a bitch.  Rebuke your brother, and never say Godspeed, unless you're sending them to Christ, who looks better than Brad Pitt, and sits at the back of the bar, nobody behind him, like Han Solo, knowing:  hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid; however, Vader proved him wrong, for the moment, and he screwed his daughter--it all equals out.
   So, know:  cult is having a spec of attention, yet it rages, potently.  Jango Fett is pure, pulsating cult.  Always a pleasure to meet an angel--he might say.  

Emergency Visit Note--07/04/17--RAGLE (2)

   
   
"Emergency Visit Note--07/04/17--RAGLE (2)"

RUN IT:
   
   Visit?  No.  Took against my will.  Blood drawn from anemic patient, without permission; moreover, patient (freaking me) has history of blood transfusions, losing near 3/4 of his blood, blood in bowels; plus, blood in urine and urethra conditions, as well as bladder infections.  Too, Williamson County Medical Center also forced a catheter into patient (me), which is totally torture for a human being with these historically documented conditions, and without my permission, and thieved away my Freedom of Religion by physically taking (roughly) and breaking my Rosary Beads blessed by a Catholic Priest in the Diocese.  
   PATIENT CARE NOTES:
   Bravo Sierra, for there was no care, only torture.  Nursing note by O'NEIL, JENNIFER E, but she is an ugly-faced, in my opinion, monster of iniquitous energy.
   Nursing Note by HAY, HOWARD JASON:
   Dr. Ragle and myself spoke to the PT's brother.  Per family the PT has become more aggressive and physical with his step-father.  He also states the PT has been drinking starting early in the mornings with beer.  (Improper punctuation--you Bush League cracker.)  
   False Testimony, by my crooked brother.  Go back to my earlier blogs and read these miscreants lie on another portion of this erroneous report.  It never goes farther than beer, which this twit note implies.  And if you go to sleep at 5:00 PM and wake @ Midnight; next, how is 9:00 AM morning to you?  And there has been nothing but beer, Bubba.  Too, Medical records snort like a flamingo, saying I'm delusional, and CLAIM to be my mother's caretaker--who else is doing it assholes!?!  Too, says patient denies drug use.  Look at my drug screen you pricks.  No drug use.  Yet you took my blood and shoved a catheter down my urethra without my fully cognizant consent, based on an attorney's false testimony, which I have proved, and now I have problems with urination; plus, the other, again, FALSE TESTIMONY from my attorney brother is that I've been physical with step-father.  Wrong.  Aggressive--wrong!!!  I just talk like Trump, and I have Freedom of Speech, or do I not?  Not aggressive, and not physical--FALSE TESTIMONY, while Detective Parker and the Sheriff ignored their crimes, including attempting, well, it starts with M.  I've chronicled Dr. Death as well--just read my blog archives, if you can keep up.  My mother was given a shitload of metaphorical poison, and no chance to live.  Hell, they cut off physical therapy approximately three years ago, and now I do that too.  His recommended diet for my mother was potato chips and ice cream.  That sounds healthy.
   Kevin Feltner was contacted prior to what this erroneous report displays, as were the Williamson County Sheriff's Office, and they damn well know it.  Dr. Grenier is unknown to me--more FALSE TESTIMONY forged by an attorney in the report.  The Sheriff and Detective Parker failed to report Notary Fraud and abuse by past, part-time quasi-caretakers, that did nothing but sleep, eat, and allegorically torture my mother and me; plus, throw wet towels at my face, threaten to trip me, poison my dog, and it goes on.  One of my physicians, from approximately four years ago wanted to call Social Services.  My other physician has been contacted by brother and sister-in-law, numerous times, violating, at least making the attempt, my patient/doctor confidentiality.  This Williamson County Report, an erroneous document, also states that I have a history of being bipolar--NOPE.  It's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with Tics, you schmucks!!!  And it's a gift, for my memory is near infallible, if I choose.  
   Hey crooked attorneys, if one of you rolls over, or a cop, you can have all of my brother's millions, and just give me a portion to live in a country shanty.  My brother's filthy rich, there's your prize.  Dinners with phony Judges, Belle Meade snobbish geography, and makes a Judas out of my step-father because he thinks his mother is too ugly to live.  Hell, she's better looking than his wife--I'd jump off a bridge if I had that woman's baneful countenance, both inside and out, her having a history of involvement with the Free Masons, who spit on the Virgin Mary.  
   My brother sits me down after my biological father died approximately ten years ago, him a mathematician for Lockheed/Martin, and this attorney brother tells me Dad has left me a portion; however, I got a plastic Swiss cheese bank with under a dollar in change--wonder where all the hundreds of thousands of dollars went?  Get in there Sheriff.  Don't be bought, or a pussy.
   Nuff said, for now.   

L7 - Pretend We're Dead (Official Video)

Indigo Samson (30)

   

   "Indigo Samson (30)"
   
   Yes, Bobby Rook was in touch; regardless, they still reminded him, he was a schmuck too, hell, we all are.  You can never do enough.  Rest, some say.  Retire.  If a man retires and stops dreaming; next, he dies.  Always ask God for new challenges.  Are you content, Big Fox probed him with telepathically, through his pineal portion that tingled, as his ears constantly ringed, always being asked?  Next, he was instructed to never be content, not even have peace.  You can have peace when you die, but really, you never die.  You either become fish people if you were unselfish, and if you were selfish--you get thrown back, rudely, upon a prison planet.
   The Son of Man is here.  The King is in the field, and I'm not talking Tom Brady, but--his wife looks better than most.  Never settle.  Never take what you can get.  Yes, it will bring great things; however, the seeker, whose head is in the heavens--he unearths the best treasure.   A family that doesn't stab him in the back.
   Bobby Rook took a moment.  If only he could play guitar.  And the angels told him:  "Get over it, for you're not the first, and you won't be the last--that's reserved for Christ.  Hell, when He died, they starting counting time again.  When you die, will they create a calendar?  Nope."
   Bobby Rook got over it.  Had some Chinese food; then, smoked a non-filtered Pall Mall, and it was delicious.  

My Blood Brother & Tobacco Products

   
   "My Blood Brother & Tobacco Products"
   
   I had a dream last night that smoking organic tobacco was killing me, so I woke up, and I lit another lung dart.  Good for me, you schmucks.  
   And cease with getting into my brother's ear.  He's my damn brother!  We're blood--you are not!  He doesn't give a damn about your accomplishments and pseudo-accolades.  His family of foreign cars is worth more than all of your confederate money combined--you Bush League Barney Fifes.  He's a crooked officer of the court, and your son couldn't get laid in a morgue with his pumpkin head.  Carve it out and put a candle in there; next, the drunk may have some brains.
   How dare you come into my mother's house and drink JACK DANIELS @ 21 years of stupidity; then, tell me you're educated.  You're a shyster--you don't even know Yiddish, you freaking redskin, and I love the American Indian--he'll shove an angry arrow up your pretentious pre-pubescent ass.
   My brother is my adversary.  Only I can kick his ass--nobody else.  He's my blood.  Don't mess around where you are not wanted.  You think he gives a damn about you?  He wants to smack me, and I want to smack him--stay out of it.  It's our business.  We're Rh mutants, and you're monkey-blooded simians, sinister to boot.
   He's my brother, not your husband.  He's got a Yankee heritage.  Grant kicked your Daddy's ass, and Sherman burned it to hell and back.  Remember Southern Man, and I respect your statues and flag, but when you look up--you're looking to the North.  

L7 - One More Thing (Bricks Are Heavy)