Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Amos Hart--Interrogative
"Amos Hart--Interrogative"
Amos Hart was playing smooth and conductive metal in the theater of his mind, not harping on the keyboard, just a journalistic tendency to loathe the secrets of the dark--Enoch why are you asking these questions?
It wasn't theological for Amos Hart, though he liked shepherds, short story prophets, and had a nucleus concerning the basics of kinda like what King Arthur was trying to drink, or whose blood rather, a babe born on Christmas, not a pagan holiday, but plenty just seamed in as lesser foundations are attracted to the more potent topic, like Jesus.
A journalist doesn't hang, shoot, or kill. Just words. And yet the corporeal judges and killers sprint retreat after hanging a man @ noon, when the rooster has already run, and the hens are laying simple-man gold. Most folks fancy steak. Good cuts, lean, without the waste of deep chew, though some prefer the poor man's gristle, like a wolf's mouth savoring the savage basics.
Amos bought the Olds. Nice. Smooth. Multivocal. And Bucko was right next to him.
Where did David King's money go?
"Where did David King's money go?"
Worked at Lockheed/Martin. Patricia Ann King put him through college. A smart man that loved his disabled son. Where did all his hundreds of thousands of dollars go? To a vagrant, partially, in Arkansas? To two attorneys, partially? In the pocket of a document shredder, partially? Just questions. And good ones. All while a little boy and his disabled father suffer with nothing.
Pay Attention--Notary Fraud
"Pay Attention--Notary Fraud"
Dismissed, due to favors and further web-spinning; moreover, a deck reshuffled, attorneys with great wealth involved, reputations clean, but only on paper, and does it not all lead to attempted murder? Just a question.
What if they took Patricia Ann Baity, at the time, diagnosed with Alzheimer's Stage Four by Doctor David Edwards, who had her on four Xanax a day, among other things; plus, Seroquel, and plenty of paralyzing Haldol--both being heavy anti-psychotics, her of unsound mind and body, and made her sign documents at the Notary in Bellevue, Tennessee--Highway 70? They did. Fraud: Deception for financial gain. They're good at false testimony. Like being struck by a cane--more false testimony. Read my past Blogs. Dig deep. Surely a brave man will roll over. Nah, the brave are all dead. But they're rich. You could have a piece of the pie.
And wait till you get a load of the first two pseudo-caretakers. These women were jewels. They like peach pits, poison, and dropping old ladies in the shower. Hey, relax. Truth is crueler than fiction.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Amos Hart--350 Rocket
"Amos Hart--350 Rocket"
It was only a two-barrel, but she looked to be in her prime, and always would. Amos knew that the bleu beauty was like unto a French dame whose children did not need to be reminded of their folks' failures or crimes--the axiomatic truth, not some yarn spun by the masses to induce time traveler hysteria, unless you own a DeLorean.
Parents hurt their children best, for when the kids find out their parents are bums--it all goes to hell for them; moreover, the glamour and illusion are gone; however, when a child has been brainwashed into thinking their parent is bad; next, unearths the truth that his mother was actually a sublime creature, well--that child, as an adult, inherits a crown and continues with the magnanimous work of spreading Good News, which is all about exposing nefarious action.
Amos Hart couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hated to cheat on his Datsun; still, the 350 Rocket was smoking smooth, better than four wheels strapped onto 454 cubic inches of SS (outta control) with LS (Lots of Speed); on the flip side, a redneck Yankee is curious about the heavy lifting, and the force that causes and manipulates the rotating circle of life.
Amos couldn't purchase it, yet Bucko complained with a bastard's bark, and everybody needs a back-up, especially if it's a granny's hot rod.
Amos Hart--Corruption in Tennessee
"Amos Hart--Corruption in Tennessee"
Amos wasn't proud of his piece, pride being rebellion against God, for we did not fantastically forge ourselves into existence; nevertheless, read a Harvard Blogger, him listing Tennessee as the most corrupt State in the Union--damn, the American South hates that word: UNION.
The guy Amos Hart had penned his auspicious article about was followed by a Dr. Grenier, though the guy had no knowledge of the phantom pseudo-physician, nor did the guy suspect negative (in words) ELF waves were being used by insidious forces to disrupt his neurological pattern, but we all know WAR is a ridiculous racket.
The fact that his Rabbi, his physician, and his brethren were contacted was not by mere chance, and there was always the possibility that money was exchanged for unscrupulous favors, at least involving phony attorneys, rolling around in stolen money and having dirty sex with their wives as they imagine those females to be perfect porn princesses that they regularly flog the bishop to during their down but up time. How high was the corruption? Sometimes it takes plenty to murder a little man. Gotta get him alone, if the ELF waves aren't working. Santa's elves are nice, and even Amos' brother had pictures of them in a 1980's PLAYBOY magazine, hanging out with Saint Nicholas and stuffing stockings with the serendipity of lip service.
Nobody would be brave enough to uncover such sinister scenarios, for they would be threatened, and Amos Hart knew bodacious bravery was a bold declaration of past soldiers, pure paladins for the purpose of porpoises. Amos already knew the hospital and local law enforcement had given false testimony, as well as a guy named Feltner, but Amos didn't gave a damn, because their wives were as asymmetrically ugly as bearded ladies lathered in lascivious longings, yet their husbands couldn't give them anything long save breaths without beatnik beauty, like might Kerouac.
When corruption is high level, people continue to cover their tracks, reshuffling the deck, turning people over to the government, and believing mercy is in murder. How enchanting, but My Pretty Pony likes to pounce on non-repenting perversity, with horseshoes made of bronze.
Amos Hart would not give up, finding fuel in the flavor of beef jerky, like a cowboy, and decided to Christmas Shop for shiny things, as are "Wheel of Fortune" contestants fascinated by such sparkly objects.
Saw a drone. Nah, it was a microscopic Santa, getting small for the love of reindeer aeronautics.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)