Monday, October 30, 2017
Honest Abe--Gorgeous
"Honest Abe--Gorgeous"
The phony system, which believes a checkerboard pattern gets ya to Heaven, has attempted to program my sub-conscious with shit--I'll save it for Lincoln's hat, and I say: HE IS GORGEOUS.
Don't know the details. The wicked one resides there anyway. Screw it. So, some dude's parents told him that if he ever saw anybody uglier than him; next, he should kill that person. Great parental units, right?
So, Lincoln is going down a trail. Has security. The dude comes running out of nowhere, in order to kill Lincoln. They stop him. They ask why he wanted to kill Lincoln. The man explained, telling them he was instructed to slay an uglier person than himself. Lincoln kinda joked about it, sorta mentioning that if he was indeed as ugly as that dude; next, he should be killed.
Get off your asses and smell the Folgers. They've always been here. So have you. Pick a side, knowing, the six-pack is not always cold, and reality television is a murderer, mostly.
Make America Great. What do you have to lose, but your fortune? What's worth more to you, greed or giving?
God Bless America.
Hail Holy Queen
"Hail Holy Queen"
She goes by many names: Queen of all virgins, Mirror of justice, Virgin most powerful, Queen of peace--forever . . .
This is not surgically precise, yet neither are surgeons; regardless, here we go--run it:
Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy! Our life, our sweetness, and our hope! To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears! Turn then, most gracious advocate--thine eyes of mercy toward us. And after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
So much for Freedom of Religion in this town, unless . . .
Living with quasi-Bill Cosby
"Living with quasi-Bill Cosby"
What a great old man. A family man. Has a love of his life--himself. No pills in the pudding. No incarcerating the innocent through a crooked system. No notary fraud, possibly attempted murder; indeed, just a great old man--so full of harmony and peace.
Keep drinking the Kool-Aid. It only takes one brave man to buck the system. Is it you?
He would never put pills in the pudding. Or would he? 27 Xanax in a week. Dr. Death giving numerous pseudo-opiates and barbs years ago--I have it all recorded. Or do I?
Intrusion by lawyer chimps into Doctor/Patient Confidentiality. Pay offs. Favors. What, do I have a Trump fortune? He does. Smell his money as he mocks your bald head and longs for your lovely wife. Wouldn't you. Look at his matrimonial mistake. Can you blame him?
Oh well, it's great to always be a target of murderers and thieves and liars. It's great to be beaten down and loaded heavy with opprobrium.
Great Game last night. Iconic--even without the Yankees.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Lawnmower Chimp
"Lawnmower Chimp"
She tells him he's the best at everything. He looks soooo good for his age, though she has bigger dreams, like Large Marge. As soon as his tongue starts hanging out of his mouth and he's drooling a massive fluidic river--she'll move him into a nursing home; next, become a silver girl, with all the other fatties, and the Lawnmower Chimp will be peeling bananas, just a head--he should've quit while he was still a head.
And there's this neighborhood. Maybe mine. Maybe not. Shadow people. White wolves. A UFO here and there; plus, you got the naughty nurse and sea hag, their poor husband, the only decent one, cutting his grass everyday just to get out of the house. A shifty marsupial who likes to golf and go on alcoholic benders; plus, he practices voyeurism, watching the abused sexual champion go down on lovers, the mystical priests walking down the street, and everybody runs for cover, an old man with two six-guns who keeps an eye on an Arab that nobody ever sees, a goddamn Democrat too, a pseudo-Saint who thinks he's the reincarnation of Doc Holliday, a vampiric woman, and members of the Hebrew Tribe--one lady came running out of her house, screaming: "This is the weirdest fucking neighborhood!!!" It is, but own it. Be who you are. If you want to be a ballerina; next, morph into a stocking-covered dancer, giving us asphalt ballet--it's all good.
This is America. God Bless Her. We got freaks, geeks, schmucks, schmoozers, losers, and a Wheaten Terrier here or there. Don't be such a pussy. God has a sense of humor--if not; then, why is 70% of life on Terra's turf a form of the beetle?
But remember Jack Kennedy kinda saying: "The coldest part of hell is reserved for people who stayed neutral and didn't pick a side."
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