Pleasures of life

 
   "Pleasures of life"
   
   "Damn't dingbat--you are blocking my path to the blood-wine."  Any good Catholic would say it; indeed, the difference between Catholics and Protestants?  Catholics actually say hello to everyone at the liquor store.  
   Love thy neighbor, for your neighbor is a slayer.  The dude that bags my groceries is fluent in German.  How many college-educated people can speak German without flinching?  Not enough.  But in other countries they are multi-lingual.  Is language not a gift?  
   You phony doctors think you're so fuzzy, yet the dastardly dynamic Doc Holliday says:  "What a peach."  A simple peach, he repeats, so lovely, with platinum, though non-pretentious hairs, like my lover in the south, melting the whistling wax of wondrous white, all in child-like innocence, not for you to selfishly detail, but a musical mystery of gray birds not given the lusciousness of life to be noticed, yet she mystically mimics, like a collegiate circus person, until let lassoing loose on this here weird world.   
   Not going to TACO BELL.  A two dollar bill can only get you so far.  But all that potency on the flip side?  I love the 70's.  The 80's too.  Even now . . .   

Chess & God, perhaps--perhaps not

 
   "God & Chess, perhaps--perhaps not"
   
   He sets the Chess board, only for Himself.  He only plays for Himself.  Doesn't care if He wins; He's not very competitive; moreover, He lets His virginal daughter win all the time--He always allows her the fuel of victory.
   He has pawns.  Pawns don't move fancy; on the contrary, many a pawn has captured a king.  He has rooks--straight shooters.  He has knights--knight moves are L-shaped only.  He has bishops--sideways symmetry.  He rarely moves, one space maybe; still, has a few trickster abilities to shift, as if unseen, like an old paladin on the battlefield.  A QUEEN--the most powerful, possessing almost unlimited movement on the board, when it is her turn, and you be wise in knowing--no piece wants to see the QUEEN wend her way, for she does what she pleases, when it's her turn.  She's been a good girl.

Shock Treatments, FDA approved; plus, Fleur-de-lis

 
   "Shock Treatments, FDA approved; plus, Fleur-de-lis"  
   
   Arrested for herb; thus, we should light up his cranium with high voltage that we can't control--sounds great Uncle Sam.  Remember what fibers the first American flag was fabricated by? 
   And unicorns and the the New Orleans Saints have much in common.  Always looked perverted to me; however, a man might carry enough love and light to purify the waters, only tamed by virgins, denouncing the bull's eye of naughty nurses perpetually placing doubt into your sub-conscious--just for kicks, me thinks.
   Whatever happened to LEAVE IT TO BEAVER?  We were horribly cloaking our passions, some say.  Possibly.  Invention of the birth control pill equals party all the time, party all the time, party all the time--I can still hear Mr. Murphy sing it; then, I listen to some BEACH BOYS to calm myself.
   We're all wired differently.  Not every man tastes the same colors, for some men are color blind.
   I think I'll go to TACO BELL today.  Those girls up the street at SONIC are cute; at the same time, when I brought the foot-long home for Big Daddy, he rebuked it, proclaiming:  "Boy!  There ain't no meat on here."
   I always wanted to see Alaska.  And to all the people who recycle--do you care more about a piece of paper than the manipulated and extorted?  I guess so.  

DMV @ Tennessee

 
 
   "DMV @ Tennessee"
 
   I was dreading it for months--driver's license renewal.  Thank the shimmering stars, step-daddy took me.  I was quacking like a fifty-cent milkshake, fueled by anticipation concerning facing the angry masses--a public scenario, way more disorderly than me.  People rushing, texting, glued to computers, thinking about nothing save sex and money, me too sometimes, but I get over it; regardless, Bubba Cheese was my bodyguard, and having a motley synergy of anti-sophistication seemed good-old-boy enuff.
   Where the hell did all the Americans go?  One dude with kids from wherever, and the DMV folk were garbed in the bling of bounty hunters, looking more like rogue law enforcement than ordinary people--what a great movie; I love Alan Alda.  
   There was a blonde lady in front of me.  Nice.  But she wasn't even from here, coming in by way of Switzerland, and the dude that waited on her lived in Germany.  What the hell?  It's okay Mark, breathe, and wash your hands when you get the hell out of here.  Do I have to pee?  Is there a booger dangling from my myriad of nose hairs?  An elderly man got his CARRY permit, and my gun-slinging step-dad grinned.  It only takes one shot.  Don't spray prey.  He frowns on the 9-millimeter.  Says the Germans don't know what kinda bullet puts a man down.  The 9 is too high velocity--no stopping power.  Goes right through you, like my mother's old lamb roasts.  Holy Fire, Bubba Cheese is a rhinestone cowboy.
   We got the hell out of there.  I took a Duck Dynasty photo.  I don't need guns though.  Got a bullwhip from a hot bartender years back in exchange for giving her the favor of a nipple fling--women are weird, always hoping men are looking, save the nice ones.  So, that's it.  Boring.  Her breasts are waiting, fella . . .

Mary, the Blessed Virgin Mother HD

Talking to old friends

 

     "Talking to old friends"

   Shazam Goober!  Always liked Captain Marvel--before Marvel adopted it, kinda gender-bending, but I've been there, as have most, and I didn't realize how imperative the Unicorn Nation was, just prep-school ladies, too young for my eyes, and be a priest man--health insurance, a free place to live, same clothes everyday; plus, you don't have to have a nagging wife.  She'll kill ya man, metaphorically.  I love metaphor--I'm all allegory, symbolic, comparisons, and not, but straight in the arrow, and my dog is long in the tooth, and she still runs like a puppy--the terrier spirit.  Noticed another terrier nearby.
   I can tell he's an old friend.  Just that.  But it's nice to talk to an old friend, even if that is only who he awesomely is.  I'm used to the electric suck.  And can you be a weregolden-retriever?  People author books on Lycanthropy, even me, and Great Britain actually showed up.  Roger Moore was my favorite.  He looked like my Dad, a little taller; also, more slender; however, he had an elegant suavity about his essence, boy.
  So, old friends--you were always in.  But she was not my heart.  Did you think so?  Some girls have power over your mind; on the contrary, some girls have power over your heart.  Which is worse?
   So, just be a truck driver.  Metaphorically I'm talk'n.  God forbid I give advice.  Cut that hair you hippie.  How many times did Jesus hear that?  But he washed it, you schmuck.  He was a nice, tough guy with a heart.  That's how simple God is.  Simple.  True.      

Christ and Ice

 
   "Christ and Ice"
   
   When a male child is born, even a female, the mother usually charms with grins and smiles, a cruel wink or all the worst, to further forge her offspring; nevertheless, the father is as he is, an older man, gray around the tips; indeed, his tips are frosted.  He stands in your face, without magic, though has plenty.  Uses muscle and machine.  A craftsman.
   Christ was not trained by a rabbi or a charmer.  Was trained by a virgin--the Queen of ALL virgins, though even a virgin can lose her life on the battlefield, but not before taking an army of men with her, reminding:  "You will be judged!"
   A virgin has no charms minus magnanimous mysticism, a constellation, an army, a pack of purity, as white as snow, and when pushed, as cold as ice.
   Christ had the best of parents.