Wednesday, June 17, 2009

jet airliner

When it started to get real was the 12 hour plane trips. 12 hours would get me anywhere i wanted to go. Spending days on a plane. My dr. was kind enough to prescribe ambien to help me drift through in a snoring, slobbering haze of slumber. Those damn things are quiet a psychedelic. Nodding into to dream land that crosses over into reality thinking seriously "why the banana with tits shorted GM is now clearly evident" or other such nonsense then falling into a deep sleep.





Waking up in Germany and shuffling off the plane in an ambien torpor . Leaving the samll thing in the hotel room where the text said i should leave it. when I'd get home there would be a package. A small envelope, always a different return address. Bankcards in side each one anonymous with 2,500 in cash on it.



I made more money in six months then i had made in my whole life. I toured the worlds airports and nearby hotels. I'm not sure what I did.


I paid all those bastards. They got every cent I owed them. What had once seemed like an everest of debt was dwarfed by this liquid tsunami of cash that rolled in.

After exactly six months the phone they gave me never spit out eloquent directions to follow, no more passwords to email accounts loaded with mail containing passwords for flights that were booked and paid for. I'm assuming whatever it was was in the the cloths. Before each flight two identical suits would arrive at my door by express mail. Perfectly tailored dark blue suits. Each identical. I was to leave both suits at the hotel and take my street cloths back to the airport. They told me to always wear one of the suits on the plane on the way to the destination, they said it was of the utmost importance.



Dad, he always said to wear a suit when you traveled on a plane. He always wore a blue suit on his way across the country on business.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Passage of time



When I'm punchin' any type of clock this simple act seems to slow down time for me. At a job, unless super busy doing engaging work, the minutes creep by in increments of 2's and 3's. The clock on the wall bares witness to this amazing phenomenon. Occasionally, a sparky conversation with a co-worker or a meaty bit of work can be fed into the time mechanism to somehow make it move faster toward the goal of being able to go home or do whatever it is you want to do.

Most people go home after work. Some to sit on their butts and stare at screens similar to the ones they looked at at work the difference being their chair or couch is more comfy than their desk. Some do one of countless hobbies or others still go do more work.

This seems to be the time that moves like greased lightning. Chores and pleasures all packed in to a few precious hours before bed to make sure your ready and fresh for the morning bell.

However, no time seems to move as fast as when you have no responsibilities and you are free to fill time any way you choose. their is no clock to be punched ever. These days fly by faster than the light it takes to make them, faster than they can be coded in to chemical memory. Until, you have to go punch the clock again.



It's the compression of will that slows time. If oyu can do something you dread all the time keeping out of any kind of rhythm you may just be able to make time stop almost completely. Fill each waking moment with joyless challenge, hollow victories, dogged persistence and priorital failure and you might just be able to stop time.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009



"just relax into your job"

"its a weight i cant bear"

"and have faith"

"and thats where alcohol comes in"

"that my broke ass and yours will have love
peace prosperity and happiness forever are adventures will be many but we will be fucking thinkers and defenders of free thought, fuck the booze..."

"but i get in these mind loops man"

" go for a jog"

" and alcohol is the only thing that make sit, stop and 98% of the time its about shit we are talking about just now, i just don't feel worthy... "

"jog and meditate at the same time, pick a mantra"

"of what god has given me"

" im a fucking biology major,thats it nothing else, why me sometimes i wish i never heard"

"your depressed sounds like"

"or saw the truth"

"like clinically"

" its almost to much to handle"

"depressants arnt going to help you need some exercise and to keep your mind busycause booze will make it worse"

" my short term memory is like non existent i think about so much shit god being most of it that i cant even processes my short term my brain cant even pick the right shit to save because there is so much shit going on and gods told me to stop this shit its going to make me crazy thats not the point to think about those things but i don't know..."

Saturday, April 04, 2009

seemingly

The burst of light is what they see when they look inside.
The light is what they seek.
Culture long since forgotten how to light the flame.


Pundits, justice, banal eons of tradition dowsing sparks lest they light a young mind.


Thursday, April 02, 2009

Key stone



The rain battering against the windshield , wipers doing a ritilan dance to keep up, and the rain is starting to look like sow, crystal flitting out of the rage of the spastic wipers. The silver SUV careens down the passing lane headed toward some banal destination. The phone rings and I hear you say

"no its just me"

"yeah i thought i'd spend some time alone"

Right then at that second the time stops and I pop out of my body and the words "liar" are tattooed into my brain. At that moment your actions spoke louder than any word you'd ever said to me. Somehow, you felt the need to tell the other person that you were alone, nit with me. This says so many things, most of all, it says that you have limits, places that no one can take you past.

Friday, March 27, 2009

lightning up





Passing judgment seems to be the pastime of the unenlightened.





The shivering squirrels packing the cheeks full of roasted grain while keeping one eye out for the approaching hawk. A nervous life that passes peace and daily enjoyment off to the next generation as hidden unrealized goals.



Unconscious values shine through, the motivator for getting out of bed in the morning mixes with the desire to share the discomfort of a life unrealized. The product is resentment, jealousy, hate, fear, guilt. This emotional grid seems to be the filter that shapes all judgment. From the outside it appears as a brash determination at its best; at the worst, unrecognized aggression, harsh speech.




The only way to be liberated from this quality of thought is to lovingly pass judgment on others as if they were yourself. To the extent that is kept in mind, the faster you will move, in time, in space, in experience. So challenging is this to some they dismiss that the phenomenon even exists.

i just read this post, wtf did i just write ? lol

Monday, November 03, 2008

5 of 12




The rain never stops here and its always gray.

Tones of gray and black maybe a brown all around.

Why hasn't this place seen the sun for so long.

The trees look all listless and gray.

Why is it all colorblind shadow ?

I can wander around and summon a plane, this dream land is preferable to being sane.


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Friday, October 31, 2008

middle path



"Something better than nothing"
She says
"that's giving up"
He says
"how's that?"
She says
"that's how your create ghosts...shadows of what might have been, that's how you get haunted, the shadows move in"
He say's
"you've never settled ?"
She says
"Never where it matters, making decisions where none seem evident is the folly"
She interrupts his thought.
"what is it exactly your making all these great decisions for ? to me, you look aging, broke, self-indulgent and flatulent"



"ahh to the contrary my dear, I am trying to form the American version of the middle path..."
again she steps on his words
"isn't middle class settling ?"
He smiles , and replys
"middle path, not middle class, it's a Buddhist idea that makes me feel warm and fuzzy"
she says
" you definably, are fuzzy "
"the idea is that for everything that occurs there is an opposite, if there is day, there is night, if you are happy, you will be equally sad at some point, the trick is living that way here, now and everybody's fuzzy now you fuzzy too"

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Ritual Magic for the everyday practicioner, lesser ritual of the NSBH




The Ritual we will discuss today ( lesser ritual of the naked shit bong hit) is best imagined. Bright, shiny and expansive, her bathroom had white marble floors. The imported hand hewn tiles are warm to the sensitive touch of my pinky toe as it lays on the tile exposed ; hanging off the edge of a lush white fuzzy bathmat. His and her sinks with a hanging mirrors. The space was as big as an average bedroom. I heard a sigh from the sauna as she poured a splash of water over hot rock. It helps to have the Taj Mahal of stalls to complete the experience. However it is not necessary to reach the spiritual nirvana that awaits practitioner's of this skill.



Naked, sitting on the toilet, thankful I had ate all of that huge turkey club sandwich with fries and the pitcher of beer to scub it down . Taking an after-sex, naked, shit I shuddered with pleasure. Some folks like to say "ABRACADABRA ABRACADABRA" in a low voice (like your pushing something heavy) during the number two portion of the ritual. Combine with a couple of hit's from a prepared glass bong. Some say this helps expedite the demons out. Once all Demons have left the body hop in the shower and treat yourself kindly.




This decadent ritual can be had by all, it knows no class, or class boundary's for that matter. After, a quick shower the result is a happy sated human. If you can manage to do this ritual once a month on the full moon and each equinox you might find yourself happier and reaching a form of magical enlightenment. For a quick review: sex, shit, "ABRACADABRA", toke, toke, repeat


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Thursday, October 16, 2008

Joe the Plumber





"Do it every day. If you want to be something do it everyday. God damn it ! thats as consice and precise as I can be !"

The old man told me that this was the secret of life. "think for yourself" he said, one afternoon. We were staring out at the pacific sucking on plastic bags pumped full of vaporized marijuana. Between hits from the "volcano" and the camel straights, we were feeling very contemplative. It didn't matter that we weren't on the beach, you could spy the ocean and smell the spray in the distance.




His white hair blowing in the so-cal breeze with big silver rimmed aviators showing my listening face back at me. He passed me the cigarette and spoke.

"I know it seems that there out to get you, like they are organized, however, its more boring than that, there is no cabal"

The sound of cheap nylon tearing, used to make the cheap little folding beach chair, creeps up from my chair as I squirm, digesting the words.

"don't tell me about the banality of evil, the biggest schmucks have no clue that they are, self-righteous pricks !"

"they didn't gather and discuss your demise. You know, it was entirely procedural."

"procedural, it seemed pretty systematic to me !"

"The way they look at it, it was business as usual"

"I was the best they had..."

"what really bothers you about the whole thing ? the money ?"

"It's the failure, one more for the loss column, being a loser sucks "

"It does suck, to define yourself like that, not useful at all. The thing your not considering is we all loose in the end. Everything we've ever put value in is eventually lost, a mans life can be defined by what he values"

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Don't do it...





Things have been building up for a bit. I'm not sure why i haven't posted other than I've been rally busy.

For the past few weeks I've been recovering from a bunch of small operations done to my head. I've had bad sleep apnea for years that makes it difficult for me to sleep much less anyone share a bed with me. Sleep apnea can leave you exhausted with 12 hours sleep or have you fully rested on three hours ( more rare). So I worked with a team of Dr's and spent a few thousand bucks I don't have and had stage one surgery done late last month.

Stage one, for me consisted of a few procedures. A ear nose and throat doc gave my nose a adjustment and aligned my sinuses. This procedure left me with a three inch plastic split in my nose for 2 weeks. It was so annoying to have such a huge piece of plastic in your nose :) The doc said this would help the air flow through my nose.





Next, the Dr. trimmed any extra skin on my soft pallet that would make me snore. Also, she removed my tonsils , adenoids and uvelua. The dental surgeon stepped in, made a hole in the bottom of my jaw and advanced my tounge about and inch so it wont close off my airway when i sleep any more. Then, the dentist removed 3 wisdom teeth that I had.

When i got there i was nervous and hadn't slept in two days so they gave me a sedative and i forget everything til i awake a day later. I was in pain like i never knew. I was asking for as much painkillers as they would give. For 3 days every time i had a drink of anything it felt like i was choking. With the splint in my nose i felt like i might choke.

There was a huge snafu with the pain medication. The dr. didn't prescribe anything for swelling so it was getting out of hand and they prescribed me the same pain meds they would a 100 lb woman, and im a 200 lb man. I was having to take double doses just to touch the pain. I had to go back to the dr.s office and get a different pain med. It took all day and the dr. refused to listen and tried to put me back in the hospital. I refused and left the office in sever pain. The Dr. called back and apologized and gave me a new script.

I hate the pain meds they make me confused and have crazy dreams. Today is my last day on them. The pain is manageable, so i flushed em.

Sleep has been blissful for the past few days. Ive been sleeping better than I can ever remember. I think getting good rest will change things for me. I'm trying to get a small business started for the fall and im having fun with that. I should be getting back to work in the next month or so.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Mom, I love you




The dress was sun yellow dappled with sky blue flowers. The sun shines through it as she hopscotches down the block and makes sure not to step on any cracks. For a little girl who had never had such a colorful and pretty dress, she feels like a princess. The sun brighter, the laughter of her brothers and sisters comforting for once. She feels pretty and special, alive like never before.


She didn't mean to, but as five year old children do, she had an accident, and when mother sees she screams and shrieks, looms over casting a large dark shadow and makes things as dark as they were light moments ago. Dragging the stained, small princess with a small spot on her dress outside to the spigot. Drawing the attention of the now not laughing 5 siblings.






And siblings watch as the woman shrieks and belittles and this princess is taught a lesson she cant unlearn. A lesson so hard it gets written down in DNA reverberating sixty years later.








A release of evil anger in 1937 that stretches like a spell to 2008. Evil passed down by shock wave of trauma seventy years later. Reflected in everything that princess does for the next seventy years. Just like an explosion, these events cannot be undone.


The damage can be cleaned up but this explosion precedes us, touches the world and changes it before we can look at it. Like shock waves across time, these events subside, but the damage continues because that is the nature of emotional explosions, to create damaging patterns in the future, these events create our lives un-noticed,much like Pavlovs dog. Because of the fierce intensity of the experience we block out minimize or dont deal with these events for long periods of time. Unchecked, life becomes a series of emotional explosions creating more future destruction. It is important to find the tools to stop the waves.






Much like sound waves precipitate a avalanche. Once started the avalanche is only sped by these waves and it gets louder and louder and more powerful. In life, once these emotional situations send out destructive energy they are apmlified by the destruction they bring only to be made stronger. Unlike a natural explosion, emotional explosions stay with us forever and once experienced are with us forever and if they are intense enough may even be felt by your children. This has to do with how we experience time and the nature of these psychological interactions. Some experiences in my humble opinion are timeless and once they happen cannot be undone. These experiences are so powerful that we feel them right now.


Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Superdelegate

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Cant help

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Big Cocaine




Very interesting story this guy has to tell

January 16, 2008
by Daniel Hopsicker


Two American-registered drug planes busted in Mexico carrying four and 5.5 tons of cocaine are just the "tip of the iceberg" in a blockbuster aviation deal which sold 50 American-registered aircraft to the Sinaloa Cartel, the MadCowMorningNews has learned.

According to an indictment released over the holidays by Mexico’s Atty. General, Pedro Alfonso Alatorre, already indicted as the cartel’s chief financier, purchased the DC9 (N900SA) airliner, the Gulfstream II business jet (N987SA), and 48 other planes not yet identified for Mexico's Sinaloa Cartel with laundered drug money, using a company he controls which owns currency exchanges at major airports in Mexico.

Now we know who bought the airplanes. The trickier question is: who sold them? The answer, normally, would be, "Their local counterparts in international organized crime."

But these aren't normal circumstances. Why? Because the U.S. doesn't even have any Drug Lords. Ask anybody at the DEA. Apparently, we don't even bother to field a team.

Elusive seldom-photographed American Drug Lords

News of a 50-plane fleet of drug smuggling aircraft being sold to a Mexican Cartel by mysteriously unnamed American owners confirms rumors of a mushrooming scandal, one which may eventually implicate top officials in the U.S., Mexico, and Colombia.

The reason was left unspoken in the Mexican Atty. General’s statement, because it lies on the American side of the equation, in the identity of the sellers of the planes...

The DC9 and the Gulfstream II, the two American jets now known to be part of a 50-plane sale, share interlocking ownership. The stock of two corporations which owned the planes was used in the massive recent Adnan Khashoggi-led stock fraud.

Khashoggi, currently a fugitive from justice in the case, engineered the biggest brokerage bankruptcy in America since the Great Depression, costing investors and taxpayers over $300 million.

With gas prices over $3 a gallon, you wouldn't think the Saudi billionaire needed the money. So, what did 'they' do with the money?

Upcoming Presidential elections, perhaps?

The operation was manned by “retired” CIA and military intelligence personnel, had close ties to major Bush backers and the national Republican Party, (Sen. Mel Martinez, until recently the Chairman of the GOP, flew free on Skyway’s Cocaine One DC9 during the crucial final two weeks of his campaign in Florida for the Senate.)

And with seeming impunity the operation engaged in multi-ton load drug trafficking, as well as massive financial fraud.

What began as a minor scandal without fanfare in April of 2006 with the bust of an American-registered DC-9 airliner carrying 5.5 tons of cocaine on Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula gathered momentum when a Gulfstream business jet flying out of the same airport was busted in the Yucatan 18 months later carrying 4 tons of cocaine.

The level of citizen outrage increased with the crash-landing of the second American plane. With the news that the number of American planes sold to Mexican drug traffickers was not just one or two planes—but 50—the scandal is now threatening to mushroom into something much larger.

Kingpin Airlines welcomes you aboard

The brazen fleet-sized sale of American planes to Mexican drug traffickers has huge implications.

"The extraordinary similarity,” to use the phrase used by Mexican newspaper Por Esto, between the DC9 airliner and the Gulfstream II...

The American owners of the drug planes have suffered no adverse consequences whatsoever to date.

If you own an airliner or business jet discovered hauling pure cocaine into the U.S., literally by the ton, authorities are sympathetic. They know the hazards unauthorized charter flights pose to innocent business owners, and the confusion that can result when you've inadvertently purchased an airplane from someone known to be involved with international organized crime.

"Our Story Thus Far"





As this amazing information begins to sink in—that owning a drug plane may have little downside and be a terrific hedge against coming hard times—a brief recap of "Our Story Thus Far" may be in order.

Two American-registered airplanes with clear ties to the U.S. Government—a DC9 airliner (N900SA) painted to resemble an airplane from the U.S. Dept of Homeland Security, and a Gulfstream business jet (N987SA) formerly used by the CIA for renditions—were busted in Mexico 18 months apart carrying multi-ton loads of cocaine .

Both planes flew from St. Petersburg-Clearwater International Airport to Mexico, then on to Colombia, where they loaded the cocaine, before being caught on their return journey to (supposedly) Fort Lauderdale, stopping to refuel on Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula.

Just before both plane's ill-fated final flights, the “ownership” papers were shuffled around like peas being moved underneath shells on a card table in a billion dollar game of three-card monte by people known as “aircraft brokers.”

Bush Rangers, cardboard-thin cutouts

However, the MadCowMorningNews learned from an FAA official that neither of the two “aircraft brokers” bought or sold any other planes during the entire year.

They aren’t really “aircraft brokers.” Aircraft brokers buy and sell planes.

They’re “cut-outs,” a spy trade term for the layers of insulation relied on to provide plausible deniability. They play a critical role in the cover story, shielding the plane's true owners from scrutiny.

Both busted airplanes give every indication of having been involved in a “protected” drug trafficking operation. Imagine the surprise and shock back in the Home Office. No wonder the cover story is, in many places, exceedingly thin.


A shameless plug:

Almost two weeks before the Mexico’s Atty. General’s announcement in early November that both planes had been used in the same drug smuggling operation, readers of the MadCowMorningNews already knew of connections between the two downed American drug planes, and their interlocking ownership.

The "W" Connection

Stephen Adams, a secretive Midwestern media baron and Republican fund-raiser, owned the Gulfstream II at the same time he was personally purchasing one million dollars of billboard advertising for George W. Bush during the 2000 Presidential Campaign.

Adams was also in business, in two separate companies, with Michael Farkas, the man who founded SkyWay Aircraft, which owned the DC9. Both men control companies used in Adnan Khashoggi’s $300 million stock fraud rip-off.

The multi-ton drug busts, as well as the numerous murders already surrounding the case, are part of a continuing "Mexican stand-off" between rival Mexican drug cartels allied with dueling factions contesting Mexico's unsettled political landscape.

The contest has so far resulted in more than 2500 murders in Mexico last year. Mexico’s internecine drug war is a hotter theater of operations than Iraq.





Bank robbers for Equal Justice Under Law

When a bank robber steals a few thousand dollars before holing up with a hostage, does the FBI take more than eighteen months before divulging the name of the suspect?

Certain cases involving politically-connected Americans suspected of involvement in drug smuggling, through ownership of drug smuggling aircraft, seem to be being treated, not as crimes, but as urgent matters of national security.

But the American owners of the two airplanes busted in Mexico do not look like innocent victims of mean and nasty Mexican drug traffickers, but their American counterparts... the elusive and almost never-photographed American Drug Lords.

The Gulfstream, for example, picked up its multi-load of cocaine at the international airport in Rio Negro, just outside of Medellin. Although the city became famous as Pablo Escobar’s hometown, today Medellin is known for being current Colombian President Alvaro Uribe’s home turf…





So it wasn’t FARC dope.

And there is no way the shipment can be blamed on the guerrillas, which may yet prove inconvenient if—after all the pieces are fitted into the puzzle—government-to-government drug connections are visible between the U.S. and Colombian governments.

An official issue get-out-of-jail-free card

The first plane to go down was a DC9 airliner (N900SA) which left Colombia carrying 5.5 tons of cocaine

The DC9’s owner regularly engaged in illegal, and as yet unpunished, activity, as if he had an official issue get-out-of-jail-free card.

One example: Forgetting legal niceties--like "don't sell a plane you don't own, dude"-- the DC9 was passed from “Skyway Aircraft” to a company controlled by a company insider, “Royal Sons LLC.”

But the real owner of the plane at the time was the U.S. Bankruptcy Court in Tampa. And they weren’t even told of the sale.

Maybe it helped their legal cause that Skyway's Chairman, Glenn Kovar, had been a U.S. Forest Service employee who boasted of long-standing ties to the CIA.

And several of the firm’s top executives, including its President, have backgrounds in U.S. military intelligence. That probably didn't hurt either.

Paint your car like a police car! Comes with own siren!

Skyway’s DC9 was painted with the distinctive blue-and-white with gold trim used by official U.S. Government planes, and an official-looking U.S. Seal, featuring the familiar Federal eagle clutching an olive brand, had been painted alongside the door.

If you look closely, however, the legend wrapping around the outer edge of the Seal says “SkyWay Aircraft: Protection of America’s Skies.”

Still, most who saw the DC9 sitting on the apron of the St-Petersburg Clearwater International Airport figured the aircraft belonged to the U.S. Dept. of Homeland Security.

The DC9 was clearly impersonating an aircraft from the Dept of Homeland Security. Yet it sat unmolested by authorities at the St Pete-Clearwater Intl' Airport, parked less than a hundred yards from the US Coast Guard's major Caribbean Basin Air Facility.

Skyway’s SUV's, by contrast, were painted with a bogus U.S. Government Seal were pulled over by local police, and ordered to remove the seals.



Pretty lucky? Or pretty well-connected?

Another intriguing fact is that several years ago Skyway's listed address in plane ads was a hanger at Huffman Aviation at the Venice Fl. Airport. Huffman trained both pilots who took down the World Trade Center, Mohamed Atta and Marwan Al-Shehhi, to fly.

The Gulfstream II (N987SA)

The biggest clue to date to the true identity of the individuals or organization operating behind the scenes is in the name of the dummy front company which was the last registered owner of the Gulfstream business jet that crash-landed with 4 tons of cocaine may lie in the firm's initials.

"Donna Blue Aircraft" is "DBA," for "doing business as," the kind of clever nomenclature "the boys" are fond of.

When we visited the company’s listed address, it was in an empty office suite with a blank sign out front.

What This is Really All About

Mankind’s knowledge about who owns large commercial and business jets which get busted carrying narcotics appears severely limited for several reasons.

1. It is completely governed, like the movement of subatomic quarks, by Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, with one teensy change.

2. Ownership Uncertainty fluctuates with the level of influence the plane's owner is able to exert.

3. Prospects are especially poor of ever identifying the owners of planes associated with national Republican figures.

The whole business, suggested a story from the Associated Press, rather quickly moves beyond the realm of human ken.

“How the U.S.-registered Gulfstream ended up in the hands of suspected drug traffickers remains a mystery,” the AP reported.

And not by accident, either.

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Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Pain



The Pain would come at the most inopportune times. Perfect weekends with the clink of champagne glasses sounding out over a bubbling jacuzzi overlooking the perfect mountain view enter the pain. Its in the gut and I can remember it from when I was a child. Six years old twisted in pain go to sleep it'll be OK. The Pain at ten blood still on my knuckles I told you I didn't want to fight you. The Pain it's in the gut and sends out putrid farts. Semiethcone kills the gas but the pain lingers like a punch in the solar plexus. The Pain at thirteen shunned for a bad decision or an ass kicking, stepfather smack down.



The pain it's been here now for the past four years more and more. When things should be great I'm on top got what I wanna have. The Pain it has dimension sometimes it allows other thought or communication. Occasionally it demands my complete attention. Now worst then ever it's chronic at this point after every meal 6 hours of excruciating screaming finding nirvana, talking to yourself and people who arnt there pain. So, I called my Dr. and will be increasing and doubling the placebo the prescribed. The pain won't kill you all pain does is hurt. So, 15 Dr. appts later the best painkiller is not eating. The Pain what am I going to do with you ? I know there's an issue I'm on it, so how about taking a break. Why are you so upset ? I don't get it ? Pain I'm calling out to you what is it you want me to see ? know ?

There was a good frontline on showing how the Cheney presidency ruled by executive signing statement and chased john Ash corft to his Hospotal bed [retty good shit in my humble opinion.w

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Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Chemtrails, contrails,




Everyone who can bother to look up in the sky can see them. Contrails, the water vapor left after a cloud passes overhead. Some folks have noticed films and residues that seem to fall from the sky right where these trails are. Elevated levels of Barium have been found nationwide since this phenomenon has occurred. Some people think its the government experimenting with electromagnetic force ala Nikoli Tesla or weather modification, maybe even trying to slow global warming. The government denies any knowledge of these flights even though citizens have taken time to track the flights in question and even photograph them. The phenomenon is world wide and has been going on for years. There are web sights with tons and tons of evidence going back twenty years.

I am skeptical. But I cant help but wonder if this has anything to do with the recent rise in childhood autism, psychological disorders, decreased immune response etc. the pervasiveness of reality TV, the over all dumbing down of the poulation, How would anyone know for sure ? below is a recent Television report form down in Texas on the phenomenon.




Moe Info:

Here

Here

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

magnetic motor, overunity, open source, free energy, could it be ?






There have always been people who have claimed to produce energy by using the power of attraction and repulsion of magnets. The other day I was in my kitchen making coffee thinking about nothing in particular when I started to think about using magnets to harness energy from the inherent force in the magnet. After a while I decided to do some research later into magnetic engines. Wouldn't you know it, within the past two weeks some one has apparently decided to open source free energy for the entire planet, if it's true.




There have been lots of folks who are trying to replicate this elegant design as I write this. Potentially, this could be the end of fuel and electricity bills. Thank god for open source. Anytime you take the money out of something only good things can happen.

more info :

wiki report

forum discussion

more forum discussion

Happy new year

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Wednesday, November 28, 2007

us currency, al hubbard, dancing with the stars, Tameka Foster

The above photo is the most valuable currency in the world. If the nations moneys not worth anything, no big deal, we'll take it by force. Imperialism at its finest.


Am I the only one who's noticed that Americas Top Model initials are ATM, a favorite sexual pastime of men world wide.

The spin doctors are out in full force. They are saying that adjusted for inflation oil is still cheaper than it was during the 70's. In the 70's oil went from $1 a barrel to $4 a barrel. In the past ten years we have seen oil increase from $40 a barrel to $90 a barrel. Now this means that the inflation rate is 1000% ++. Obviously, this is bullshit. One dollar was not equal to $16-$20 today. No way.

Middle class sheeple are cowering in fear. Groceries cost at least 25% more than they did a few years ago. Gas is %300 more than it was a few years back. With consumer saving at near zero there is no room for those ARMS ( adjustable rate mortgages) to increase all peoples extra funds are bieng ate up with increased energy and health care costs. Families are battening down the hatches and preparing for ramen noodle dinners. Christmas will be canceled this year on account of we cant pay the fucking bill this year.




Those in the rarified private games of stocks and bonds are also scurrying about looking for shelter from flagging stocks, profits, and margins in a market were betting against america from within pays the biggest dividends.

The politicians are calling for a bailout of private citizens who got themselves into a bind with the adjustable rate mortgages. A fund to help these folks out.

Mortgage brokers are part of the fast money breed. The set of folks where fast money, fast cars, greed, designer sunglasses and a Friday morning cocaine hang over are normal. It attracts the crowd that's interested in pushing policy in order to get things through and make a buck. SO, loopholes are found, exploited and private mortgage money folks get rich. Some poor lower middle class folks get to rent the American dream for a while till their payment increases.





I don't think the government should get involved. Let the market adjust on it own. Teach people how to save, plan for the future, and survive the hard way. If the government gets involved it will just be another nail in the coffin of capitalism. Meanwhile, the mortgage brokers have closed up shop and are finding the next new fast money scam that will be subsidized by the government on both the front and back end just like real estate.

Nip tuck was pretty good last night from what I can remember. The truth came out in many ways. Portia DeRossi makes me cry " put your finger in the dyke" lol. If you watch Dancing With The Stars your probably a zombie and should immediately go out side and do something you've never done before to make sure your still alive and not just a robot plugged into the tit of technology.

I officially have a girl friend. If she takes it in the butt she's definitely girlfriend material. She knows how to smoke a joint and knows good wine from bad. We have the same taste in music. It's not perfect, but no one is. So, I'll guess I'll give it a shot and invest a bit more of myself than normal. Scout, if you read this don't let it go to your head heh....

Trying to get back in the habit of going to the gym. I don't think Ive been more than twice a week in 2 months. Its so hard to find the motivation sometimes.


Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Stalker, wierd family band




I've got a stalker.

A serial lurker.

In the past 3 days someone has spent over 3 hours reading this tripe.

Who are you ?

I have a good idea lol.

Leave a comment.




Stop being so god damned nosey.

Want to know something ask me.

I only know one stalker that lives in Ballston Spa NY and uses Road Runner.

So why you stalking ?





My life is an open book, obviously, no secrets.

What do you want to know about ?

Suggest something and I'll write about it.

Barring that go the fuck away and leave me alone, stalkers are creepy.

Labels:

Monday, November 19, 2007

Buffalo Newspapers Want Jan Michael Vincent as QB, order him by Amazon on Cyber Monday !!!





Todays Cyber-Monday. The day when all the Dilbert looking cube farmers sip bad coffee and expand there credit card balances while sitting at thier desk pretending to do work and collecting money for real. Today's the day when not much gets done except ordering that rare Franklin Mint Elvis collectors plate for granny. Ordering on-li ne is great convienient and safe. There is a premimium, so may save money by actually taking the time to go shopping at the brock and mortar store this year. Others say bah humbug and F*ck the whole thing. I like to buy gifts for people but don't want to feel like I have to buy somehting for everybody. Expectation is a perversion of the gift giving experience. whatev......

This Weekend was really nice all things considered.

Q blustered and blew in like the wicked witch and kind of put a damper on Friday night, granted I may have deserved a tongue lashing however no fun.





The woman that I've been seeing for the past month or so is definitely in a class by her self. Classy, edgy, good looking, at times, crazy as a bed bug LOL !! it looks like we might have a contender. Saturday we slept in worked out had some good dinner and drank some wine. Sunday was a repeat. In the morning we went hiking in the woods, we found some fresh shrooms, and saw deer bounding silently by at ten feet.







We watched football in the afternoon. I was really impressed with the giants victory over the lions, maybe a chance at doing some good this year. The Buffalo game was a route, it's amazing the difference between a good team and a bunch of hacks, I think there were more Patriot fans in the crowd than there were Bills fans. Buffalo sent the contract out to Jan Michael Vincent today to replace the QB.


The kids have pinkeye so I'm home today sanitizing them and the house following around behind them with antiseptic hand cleaner and paper towels. Putting eye drops in the eye's of a two year old is an experience in human reflexes everyone should have the joy of witnessing. Wish me luck.



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Friday, November 16, 2007

Travis Barker Dead ?




Is Travis Barker dead ?


The buzz on the internet is sayin Blink 182 drummer Travis Barker was found dead in his garage. (the bulletin states that Barker was found in his garage on November 13th, so Travis Barker fans need not fret. I believe there would be some press coverage beyond a few blog postings if this story was true.) Barker and his wife Shanna Moakler, with whom he has split and reconciled several times over the last few years, have two children Landon, 4, and Alabama, almost 2.

A posting quotes Moakler as saying "Everyone in the world has someone special who has died in their life. Maybe it hasn't happened yet but please pray for Travis and my family."

No doubt, the dude looks like he's a hard livin fella. He was all over MTV a few years back at he seemed like an awesome cat. A good dad a kick ass drummer, much respect dead or alive ( he must have a project comin out, heh)

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Finn McCools, condo vultures and a Chile Earthquake



OK I watched the Show "nightmare Restaraunts" with Chef Gorden Ramsey of hells kitchen fame on his new effort "Kitchen Nightmares" the dude has a temper and definatley has a stick up his ass in his physical mannerisms. However, He comes off as a hrd working guy with a big heart wishing the best for people. Generous and caring with a short fuse. The producers of the show did a great job on this show making the drama and "solving" the issues in an hour.

The cook Brian, from last nights show was a trip; my two alcoholic girlfriends cant chug beer faster than that loser. This dude Brian seemed to have his head up his ass at the financial demise his cooking was causing his family. He came around by the end of the show predictably however, I wonder how long it will take for him to fuck it up again. That's the nature of binge drinking alcoholics. They lose everything and shit on everybody around them !!!! just kidding !!! I love booze, I'm really sceptical however about that cook ( heathen gives him the stink eye )




Damn Condo Vultures had to get up on the roof today with the twelve gauge and scare them away from my foreclosed neighbors. There fucked and paralyzed by a sinking dollar and rising mortgage costs but I'll be damned if I let those vultures get to that meat. I'll put rock salt in their ass till they move on to lower hanging fruit. Damn Vultures

Damn earthquake in Chile, apparently, my ex mother in-law landed in Santiago for her Fall vacation. She can offer shelter to the homeless under her Dunlap ( belly done lapped over her belt)

Inflation is real and the spin masters are out in full force. In my opinion, my money goes about 70% as far as it did three years ago. Don't believe the hype. People can do horrible things to each other ( like corporations to Americans ) and still be happy about it. Just look at these happy concentration camp workers; suddenly the phrase " hey it's just a job " or " it's just business " smacks of ego driven consumerism and just doesn't cut it any more.

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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Annalynn Mccord & Fergie sex Tape and other things hard to say when drunk







5 Levels of a Hangover


One Star Hangover (*)

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You're able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 Cokes and still feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak &fries.









Two Star Hangover (**)

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.

Three Star Hangover (***)

Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive.Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed watching Lucy reruns. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 iced teas and a diet Coke --- yet you haven't peed once.




Four Star Hangover (****)

Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you only shaved one side of your face. For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and even your hair hurts. Your sphincter is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who
enters the bathroom.


Five Star Hangover (*****)

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva so your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to defecate results in a fire hose like discharge of Alcohol-scented fluid with a rare 'floater' thrown in. The sole purpose of this 'floater' seems to be to splash the toilet water all over your ass. Death sounds pretty good about right now....






THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:

Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Specificity
British Constitution Passive-aggressive disorder Loquacious
Transubstantiate

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:

Thanks,
but I don't want to have sex. Nope, no more booze for me. Sorry, but
you're not really my type. Good evening officer isn't it lovely out
tonight. Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing. Sorry I'm
being such a jackass.

Annalynn Mccord & Fergie sex Tape and other things hard to say when drunk







5 Levels of a Hangover


One Star Hangover (*)

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You're able to function relatively
well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 Cokes and still
feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak &fries.









Two Star Hangover (**)

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you
have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is
only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the
fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion. There is some
definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.

Three Star Hangover (***)

Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not
productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds
you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to
drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed
watching Lucy reruns. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3
iced teas and a diet Coke --- yet you haven't peed once.




Four Star Hangover (****)

Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else
you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and
has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but
that can't hide the fact that you only shaved one side of your face. For
the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the
bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and even your hair
hurts. Your sphincter is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five
shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who
enters the bathroom.


Five Star Hangover (*****)

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the
employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every
pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the
corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the
remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to
generate saliva so your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have the
foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this
morning. Any attempt to defecate results in a fire hose like discharge
of alcohol-scented fluid with a rare 'floater' thrown in. The sole
purpose of this 'floater' seems to be to splash the toilet water all
over your ass. Death sounds pretty good about right now....






THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:

Indubitably
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:
Specificity
British Constitution Passive-aggressive disorder Loquacious
Transubstantiate

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:

Thanks,
but I don't want to have sex. Nope, no more booze for me. Sorry, but
you're not really my type. Good evening officer isn't it lovely out
tonight. Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing. Sorry I'm
being such a jackass.

Labels:

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Pear of Anguish




My girlfriend called me and ask me to get a magnum of cheap merlot and to not to forget the pear of anguish from the freezer. It was gonna be one of those nights like the night that the notorious ass licker Mario Cantone had us over and made us watch re-runs of his days as a host of a kids cartoon show. That was the evening he tried to get us all whacked on Aqua-Dots. He was in on the Chinese conspiracy to poison the kids with GHB. We could have ended up on 30 reasons girls should call it a night

Pear of Anguish




My girlfriend called me and ask me to get a magnum of cheap merlot and to not to forget the pear of anguish from the freezer. It was gonna be one of those nights....

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Amero here we come




These days I feel lost in the immense suffering and madness of our world. Something has snapped in the spirit of the time; events have gone beyond human capacity to control, predict or even conceptualize. Those who insist they know what is happening are merely pretending, or dissembling. When novelty arises, when old structures disintegrate before new patterns reveal themselves, there are no experts.

Perhaps the best oracles we can consult are systems analysts like Erwin Laszlo. Laszlo studies chaos theory and believes global civilization is a few years away from what he calls "the chaos point." According to Laszlo, we are at a "crucial decision-window" of instability. "When we reach the point of chaos," Laszlo tells us, "the stable 'point' and 'periodic' attractors of our systems will be joined by 'chaotic' or 'strange' attractors." These "strange attractors" will propel us, like booster rockets, to evolutionary development or entropic debauch. In other words, we should prepare ourselves for the unknown and inexplicable.

The current economic crisis provides an intriguing case in point. For those of us with an interest in spirituality and a background in the arts, the conceptual concoctions of modern finance – derivatives, futures, quants, margin calls and whatnot – can seem as occult as sorcerers' spells. All of these entities are inextricably intertwined in the subprime mortgage market fiasco, which continues to unfold.

Apparently, after stocks dropped in the wake of 9/11, the government stimulated the sluggish U.S. economy by pumping up the housing market. In earlier and more reticent eras, banks and mortgage brokers required collateral before making loans. After 2001, these restrictions were relaxed, bringing the "American Dream" of home ownership – or mortgage debt refinancing – to a wider populace. Loans that began at low interest (only to balloon to high interest later), got handed out to all and sundry. Based on Pollyanna-ish projections that these high-interest loans disconnected from any tangible assets would be paid back, the sub-prime mortgages were packaged into "securities" and traded up the financial markets. Several million holders of sub-prime mortgages are now defaulting on their payments, with more to follow.

Stepping back for a moment, we might see larger historical dynamics at work. Over the last decades, much of U.S. industry was relocated and outsourced to the developing world, leaving a large populace that had little to produce but was still committed to a credit-based, cushy and consumptive lifestyle. Our financial sector – following the old adage, "if you got lemons, make lemonade" – cunningly repackaged the increasing burden of U.S. personal debt, turning it into a shiny product for the financial markets. Over the last years, these questionable loans, bundled into securities, became one of our major exports to the world. With nothing tangible left to sell, the U.S. turned individual debt into its chief export.

It seems inconceivable that the financial institutions and speculators didn't anticipate large-scale defaults. Perhaps they were counting on the Federal Reserve to bail them out. During the last months, in fact, the Fed, along with its European counterpart, has poured hundreds of billions of newly invented dollars into the financial markets, temporarily stabilizing the system and rewarding the speculators while doing nothing for the masses of people facing eviction from their homes and creating the prospect of hyperinflation.

The Fed, a private institution, "injects liquidity," quips the New York Times, without needle or syringe. As a Lehman Brothers economist notes, "All they do is write down a number and credit that amount of cash to the bank. It's a bookkeeping entry." The Fed's miraculous capacity to create instant cash brings up deeper questions about the nature of money today – what is it? De-linked from the gold standard, money is based on little more than our collective belief in it.

In Third World countries, currency crises – often brought about by predatory speculation - frequently lead to frozen bank accounts and long breadlines, followed by a change of currency that creates immense profit for the banks and the government. Of course, many believe that such a thing could never happen here. Recently, there have been rumors of a plan to form an American version of the European Federation, uniting Mexico, the U.S. and Canada under a new currency, the "Amero," and a new constitution, devised by the bankers.

In his essay in the new anthology, The Mystery of 2012 (Sounds True Press), Peter Russell notes that transformations of human culture are built upon each other, with each new revolution requiring exponentially less time to manifest. The Agricultural Age developed over thousands of years, the Industrial Age required a few hundred years, and the Information Age – built upon the manufacturing technologies developed by industrialization - only took twenty years. Russell suggests that the next revolution would be from the Information Age to what he calls "the Wisdom Age." In just a few years, we could shift from a system based on data analysis rewarding corporate and individual greed to one that utilized human knowledge and foresight to institute a compassionate and equitable planetary culture. The overt irrationality revealed by the current financial crisis might act as a necessary awakening, leading to a large-scale shift in values.

written by Daniel Pinchbeck

Thursday, October 25, 2007

WTF GWB ?!?





As per Gallup polls

Americans are pro-choice (67 percent)

Americans support the Geneva Conventions with regards to torture (57 percent)





Americans don't want the government snooping in their bank and internet records (67 percent)

Americans want the USA Patriot Act changed or eliminated entirely (81 percent)

Americans support protecting the environment at the expense of economic growth (55 percent)

Americans believe that global warming is happening (86 percent)

Americans believe that it's the government's responsibility to provide health care (69 percent)

Americans support the decriminalization of marijuana (55 percent) and support the legalization of medical marijuana (78 percent)

Americans think we've lost the war in Iraq (64 percent)

Americans are opposed to attacking Iran (68 percent, according to a CNN Poll)

Americans support labor unions (60 percent)

Americans want government funding of embryonic stem cell research (56 percent)

Americans believe that free trade hurts American workers (65 percent)

Americans believe rich people and corporations aren't paying enough taxes (66 and 71 percent respectively)


And overall party affiliation? 54 percent of Americans are Democrats (with leaners) and 39 percent are Republicans (with leaners).





Why is the will of the people so far different from the policy of the federal goverment, isn't the goverment supposed to work for the people. Something is seriously wrong with this picture. As the financial news screams record profits the value of the dollar plummets the cost of staples like milk and bread have nearly doubled in five years, the cost of gas is up 300%, the Canadian dollar is on par with the American dollar and gold is closing in on $1000 an ounce. The prices of houses are tumbling and folks are defaulting on mortgages in record numbers. Yet, from glen to glen, the news talks about record dow jones #'s. Don't let them fool you, we are in the middle of what could possibly one of the biggest recessions or corrections in the history of America. If you are one of the 1% that has 90% of the wealth in this country you are seeing record profits, at the expense of the complete obliteration of the middle class. When there is no class buffer between the poor and rich there will be trouble. Fucking media spin.

On a personal note, things continue to get better and my life gets more and more as I would like it every day. It's really quite magical. There might be a dramatic moment or two but it seems that everything is on a upward trend where I'm concerned.


Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Skippin down the cobble stones




Well, you can thank a very resilient ear infection for this post.

I have been laying low, taking it slow, enjoying pizza slices and football.

My family is terrific, handling it's growing pains with plenty of love, hugs and kisses.

My job is challenging but not insurmountable. I find it gratifying and interesting, I couldn't ask for more.

My Dr. gave me the next couple days off because this darn infection wont go away.

Anyway

There's this restaurant that I've been taking my dates to. The place is inexpensive and family orientated. A steak and a pitcher is under $25. The decor is decidedly Italian, split into a family dining area and a bar with a couple of booths its the first floor of a large old house. Recently the bar was remodeled with new seating and bar stools, paint job but the place was still warm dark cozy smelling of Italian marinara with sausage. The way the booth is set up you have to sit next to your date in a nice private corner. In front of you is a TV tuned to a game at low volume. The noise is amiable and your neighbors are close so the vibe is intimate from the get go. The service is really the best in the city the barman comes out and does his thing in under thirty seconds; in two minutes your sipping a drink, eating bread and looking at a menu, the man is a pro. The food is always on. If the conversation is lacking there is always the constant crowd to talk about, the TV, the food, etc. After a couple drinks I suggest a nightcap a my place less than a mile away and usually I'm able to complete the cliche wine her, dine her, sixty-niner. It's really simple. I think most guys forget these simple steps. Along with good conversation, smiles and eye contact it's a good date every time. Whether or not I decide to go on another one is questionable, who knows.




So I told an off color story to a room of folks about a recent time I got laid. One girl that I know in the room was like " yay, you got laid you want a medal" and everybody laughed assuming I told the story to let everyone how cool I was cause I was having sex. I had a big laugh with them at myself. Sometimes I really underestimate others and their perceptions, ones erotic observation is anothers proclamation of sexual activity ? whatever it's a blog.


To the Kid who got Tazed in Florida while talking to John Kerry, Dude good job but next time take a beta blocker or sedative to help with the anxiety. If you keep your cool and save the conspiracy questions for never, you would have been successful as hell at mining out John Kerry's pat answers to various obvious ???'s of wrong doing.

To the five airmen from an airforcebase out west who died in auto accidents and other un described ways, RIP. It sure is weird how these five guys died after allowing nukes to be flown over the US. If you look at the info the people who got killed where non-essential personnel, guards etc, not people who would load nukes or would have much to do with the payload, so it makes no sense why there would be a govt plot to kill them, its just a weird co incidence at this point. All these guys in there mid 20's die. 2 in motorcycle accidents, 1 unknown, 1 auto accident, 1 found in the woods dead. I used to live by an Air force base and have known many young Airmen and they all drive like maniacs so I'm not surprised but.....it don't set right



Skippin down the cobble stones




Well, you can thank a very resilant ear infecction for this post.

I have been laying low, taking it slow, enjoying pizza slices and football.

My family is terrific, handling it's growing pains with plenty of love, hugs and kisses.

My job is challenging but not insurmountable. I find it gratifying and intersting, I couldnt ask for more.

My Dr. gave me the next couple days off because this darn infection wont go away.

Anyway

There's this resteraunt that I've been taking my dates to. The place is inexpensive and family orrientated. A steak and a pitcher is under $25. The decor is decidedly Italian, split into a family dining area and a bar with a couple of booths its the first floor of a large old house. Recently the bar was remodled with new seating and barstools, paint job but the place was still warm dark cozy smelling of italian marinara with sausage. The way the booth is set up you have to sit next to your date in a nice private corner. In front of you is a TV tuned to a game at low volume. The noise is ammiable and your niegbors are close so the vibe is intimate from the get go. The service is really the best in the city the barman comes out and does his thing in under thirty seconds; in two minutes your sipping a drink, eating bread and looking at a menu, the man is a pro. The food is always on. If the conversation is lacking there is always the constant crowd to talk about, the TV, the food, etc. After a couple drinks I suggest a nightcap a my place less than a mile away and usually I'm able to complete the cliche wine her, dine her, sixty-niner. It's really simple. I think most guys forget these simple steps. Along with good conversation, smiles and eye contact it's a good date every time. Wether or not I decide to go on another one is questionable, who knows.




So I told an off color story to a room of folks about a recent time I got laid. One girl that I know in the room was like " yay, you got laid you want a medal" and everybody laughed assuming I told the story to let everyone how cool I was cause I was having sex. I had a big laugh with them at myself. Sometimes I really underestimate others and thier perceptions, ones erotic observation is anothers proclamation of sexual activity ? whatever it's a blog.


To the Kid who got Tazed in florida while talking to John Kerry, Dude good job but next time take a beta blocker or sedative to help with the anxiety. If you keep your cool and save the consipiracy questions for never, you would have been successfull as hell at mining out John Kerry's pat anwsers to various obvious ???'s of wrong doing.

To the five airmen from an airforcebase out west who died in auto accidents and other un described ways, RIP. It sure is wierd how these five guys died after allowing nukes to be flown over the US. If you look at the info the people who got killed where non-essential perrsonel, guards etc, not people who would load nukes or would have much to do with the payload, so it makes no sense why there would be a govt plot to kill them, its just a wierd co incidence at this point. All these guys in there mid 20's die. 2 in motorcycle accidents, 1 unknown, 1 auto accident, 1 found in the woods dead. I used to live by an Airforce base and have known many young Airmen and they all drive like maniacs so I'm not suprised but.....it don't set right



Friday, September 07, 2007

WTF ?





From The Sunday Times
September 2, 2007
Pentagon ‘three-day blitz’ plan for Iran
Sarah Baxter, Washington

THE Pentagon has drawn up plans for massive airstrikes against 1,200 targets in Iran, designed to annihilate the Iranians’ military capability in three days, according to a national security expert.

Alexis Debat, director of terrorism and national security at the Nixon Center, said last week that US military planners were not preparing for “pinprick strikes” against Iran’s nuclear facilities. “They’re about taking out the entire Iranian military,” he said.

Debat was speaking at a meeting organised by The National Interest, a conservative foreign policy journal. He told The Sunday Times that the US military had concluded: “Whether you go for pinprick strikes or all-out military action, the reaction from the Iranians will be the same.” It was, he added, a “very legitimate strategic calculus”.

President George Bush intensified the rhetoric against Iran last week, accusing Tehran of putting the Middle East “under the shadow of a nuclear holocaust”. He warned that the US and its allies would confront Iran “before it is too late”.
Related Links


One Washington source said the “temperature was rising” inside the administration. Bush was “sending a message to a number of audiences”, he said � to the Iranians and to members of the United Nations security council who are trying to weaken a tough third resolution on sanctions against Iran for flouting a UN ban on uranium enrichment.

The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) last week reported “significant” cooperation with Iran over its nuclear programme and said that uranium enrichment had slowed. Tehran has promised to answer most questions from the agency by November, but Washington fears it is stalling to prevent further sanctions. Iran continues to maintain it is merely developing civilian nuclear power.

Bush is committed for now to the diplomatic route but thinks Iran is moving towards acquiring a nuclear weapon. According to one well placed source, Washington believes it would be prudent to use rapid, overwhelming force, should military action become necessary.

Israel, which has warned it will not allow Iran to acquire nuclear weapons, has made its own preparations for airstrikes and is said to be ready to attack if the Americans back down.

Alireza Jafarzadeh, a spokesman for the National Council of Resistance of Iran, which uncovered the existence of Iran’s uranium enrichment plant at Natanz, said the IAEA was being strung along. “A number of nuclear sites have not even been visited by the IAEA,” he said. “They’re giving a clean bill of health to a regime that is known to have practised deception.”

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the Iranian president, irritated the Bush administration last week by vowing to fill a “power vacuum” in Iraq. But Washington believes Iran is already fighting a proxy war with the Americans in Iraq.

The Institute for the Study of War last week released a report by Kimberly Kagan that explicitly uses the term “proxy war” and claims that with the Sunni insurgency and Al-Qaeda in Iraq “increasingly under control”, Iranian intervention is the “next major problem the coalition must tackle”.

Bush noted that the number of attacks on US bases and troops by Iranian-supplied munitions had increased in recent months � “despite pledges by Iran to help stabilise the security situation in Iraq”.

It explains, in part, his lack of faith in diplomacy with the Iranians. But Debat believes the Pentagon’s plans for military action involve the use of so much force that they are unlikely to be used and would seriously stretch resources in Afghanistan and Iraq.


So is this just planning an excercise or are we gearing up to attack Iran ? And WTF is up with Israel ? Commited to an atttack ? Is this fact or speculation ?

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Nice thought



I went fishing. Baited the hook with a day of misery. Cast my rod out on to the sea for a little psychadelic fishing. Low and behold, I brought back a good size fish. Don't waste time with thoughts that don't help you. Imagine the person you want to be, study, draw it out in detail, with effort before you know it you'll get there.


Monday, July 30, 2007

"traditional"




I like to tell myself that I'm done with dating and "traditional" dating mores. It seems so much easier to not to have to invest in a single woman. Investing in anyone on a real deep emotional level seems a waste of time. Not only how these traditional monogamous relationships stifle our ability to appreciate others, but how they tend to always lend themselves to some kind of manipulation, expectation or hurt feelings. How many times do we need to do the same thing to realize it isn't working or what we intended ?

Monday, July 23, 2007

Laid


The stiff cellophane let out a large crinkle as my big toe moved it from under the sheets, floating to the floor. The condom wrapper sound bringing back faint images. My hands go to my eyes to rub out the sleep. The smell of pussy wafts off my hands. The images come back clearer. As my eyes adjust, a stray blond hair, giving rise to a memory of a blue eye. I hug a sweaty pillow.

The two writhing together in a sweaty mess the memory now comes back, the urgent tension the release. It was just going to be a cuddle. My mouth ate that pussy. My hips pushed those legs apart.
A nice steak dinner with salad and broccoli. It would be fun to share dinner and a bottle of wine with a friend. its refreshing to meet new and exciting people. We talked about your friends and I listened, really just enjoying the opportunity to look at you and hear your voice. Truly calming. I look frward to this all day.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Name this list Contest !!!



Excuse me, but is that dress felt? Would you like it to be?

Hey baby, let's play house, you can be the door and I'll slam you!

Hi. You'll do.

I wonder what our children will look like.

I've got a condom with your name on it.



You smell wet. Let's Party.

Come on. We're leaving.

If you won't fuck me, can I fuck you?

I'm sorry, were you talking to me? (No.) Well then, please start.

Your name must be Mickey because your so fine.



You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy.

Let's make like a fabric softener and Snuggle(TM)

Excuse me, do you have any raisins? How about a date?

See this pin? I want to prick you with it to see if you truly do bleed sunshine.

Hi, my name is Chris. I'm funny, financially stable, and have a very interesting DNA structure.




Can I take your picture? (Why?) Because I want Santa to know exactly what I want for Christmas.

I have big feet.

You have the ass of a great artist.

You're ugly but you intrigue me.

I've had quite a bit to drink, and you're beginning to look pretty good.

You know how it feels when you have to go pee really bad? (yeah)

I have the strangest feeling that you have a very beautiful vagina.



Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Flyin




The message has been consistent. Night after night spreading my wings and flying over and over. It's as visceral as a wet dream the velocity pulling the organs into strange positions, peripheral vision blurring, swooping and diving through city scapes, keenly aware of the terrain. All I have to do is will it. It's a strange palpable feeling, a certain place, the mind is still and the internal dialogue is silent or tricked into verbal loops, magically, here majestic flight is available. Night after night the baby bird learning to stretch its wings, play with the currents, bring direction to focus.





On a day to day existence what does this mean ? Silent, sub conscience trying to teach me how to focus in the present and be at peace. This feels right. Feels like what it is .The part of the brain with no language showing me how to soar. Or, not...


Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Shit on me somemore




Q wants to change my daughters last names to the name of her new husband. When they were born She wanted to give them her last name to honor her Father. So I thought about it and agreed. Now that dosen't matter; she says that she changed her mind. This stings so bad.... the last shot out of the everclear bottle that is my divorce, a couple of last drunken rages at the disrespect, the coniving deciet. Suddenly, the last name of her dead father means nothing to her. Hopefully, this is the last issue that I'll have to deal with. It's like trying to eat a steaming plate of raindeer penis. Makes me naseus, how will I ever clear the plate and digest this ?



On a brighter note, they scheduled her new husbands vasectomy for right after thier honey moon this July. Sucker...



I have been really happy lately with my new job. Crisis seem to come less and less often.

I've been ignoring my girlfriends. I've kind of been off sex for a couple weeks. Not masterbation just sex with someone else. I really don't want any serious type of relationship now or any time in the forseeable future. After you've been dating someone for over a year things have a tendency to start getting serious and feelings of obligations arise. It seems the more obligated I feel the quicker I pull away.

In some sense, I'm tired of the mating game and expectations of a mate. The guilt of not fullfilling expectations of time and attention. In some sense, my left hand makes a great mate. The weakness of wanting to be wanted by another, the outside valadation that I'm at least worthwhile enough to fuck. That's what keeps me in these relationships, the need to be wanted. Outside valadation that im ok.

I don't see a woman in my five year plan or my ten year for that matter.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Bamboo you




not so long ago and not so far away, there is a story about a young man
who had become disillusioned and disappointed with his society. His hart had grown heavy with sorrow, his mind burdened by all the troubles in the world. Everywhere he looked he saw mindless consumer consumption, environmental pollution, political corruption, sexual abuse and repression, economic imbalance, depression and suffering, erosion of our civil liberties and equal rights, racism, prejudice, greed, ignorance and hate. The list goes on and on...

So, in order to keep his sanity, he decided to head off into the jungle to commune with the natural world, clear his mind, and escape all of human creation.
He gathered himself and began to walk... Eventually he reached the edge of the pavement, and decided to removed his shoes. His feet touched the earth, and feeling a little more connected, he walked on... When he came to the beginning of the jungle, he was feeling much better already. Taking a deep breath, he entered the foliage of the jungle and walked on... Deeper and deeper he went. Feeling the clean air and taking in the beauty of the plants and life around him. He walked and walked, until there were no sounds or traces of civilization, and yet, he continued onward... Deeper and deeper into the jungle... After some time had passed, he came upon a grove of bamboo. How beautiful he thought to himself as he entered the grove. Open space with the sun shining through the leaves. The wind gently blowing and swaying the culms. At this point, he had completely forgotten all of his troubles as he wondered about the creation of such an amazing place. Up ahead he saw a large bolder covered in moss. A beam of sunlight was shining through the canopy directly upon it, illuminating it, almost as if beckoning him to come. What a nice place to sit and rest for a moment, he thought to himself, and so he climbed up on top of the moss covered bolder and sat down. Inspired, he took the ancient posture with his legs folded and his back strait and began to focus on his breath... Watching the air coming in, he was aware that he was breathing in, and watching the air going out, he was aware that he was breathing out... After some time, all the thoughts in his mind became calm, there was only in and out. In this state of deep meditation, a realization surfaced. He saw the interbeing of all things. He saw that all the universe dissolved into One, and the One was infinitely divided. He saw that he was all the suffering of the world and all the bliss. A little bit of black in the white, and a little bit of white in the black. All states of being are mutually co-arising and dependent upon all other states. Freedom, within the boundaries of self...A tear weld up in his eye, spilled over, ran down his cheek, and dripped off of his chin, hitting his thigh. At the exact moment this tear drop hit his thigh, it began to rain, and the sound of the rain drops falling on the bamboo made him open his eyes and look up. To his surprise the bamboo was glowing green, and dancing as if it was alive. And he heard a voice. A deep voice coming from all around him, and it said.


"I AM THE GROVE, AND I AM SPEAKING TO YOU ON BEHALF OF ALL LIVING THINGS. OUR SOIL AND OUR AIR ARE BEING DESTROYED, AND POLLUTED. MANY SPECIES HAVE DISAPPEARED AND MANY MORE ARE DYEING. IF SOMETHING IS NOT DONE WE MAY ALL PARISH. I CALL UPON YOU TO GO OUT INTO THE WORLD OF HUMANS, TO FIGHT THIS SPREADING MADNESS. I CALL UPON YOU TO SPEAK TO THEM OF ENVIRONMENTAL CONSCIOUSNESS, RENEWABLE RESOURCES, SUSTAINABLE LIVING, AND ETHICAL CONSUMPTION. SHOW THEM THE BALANCE YOU HAVE SEEN AND ASK THEM TO LOOK TO THE SOURCE OF ALL THE THINGS THEY CONSUME, AND THE DESTINATION OF THEIR WASTE. THEY MUST CHANGE THERE WAYS, FOR THE SAKE OF US ALL. DO NOT FEAR, I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH ALL YOU NEED. TURN AND LOOK."

So he turned around, and floating in the air before him was a sword.

"THIS IS NO ORDINARY SWORD." Said the grove. "THIS IS THE MOST POWERFUL WEAPON IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE. FOR IT IS A WEAPON OF PEACE. THIS SWORD CANNOT HURT A LIVING THING, BUT WITHIN IT, IS A BAMBOO FLUTE, AND WITH THE PURIST OF TONES AND THE CLEANEST OF SOUNDS, THE MUSIC OF THIS SWORD CAN CUT RIGHT INTO THE HART OF A PERSON AND CREATE PEACE, SLICING AWAY THE DELUSIONAL MIND, THEY WILL BE READY TO LISTEN...GO FORTH YOUNG MAN AND BE BRAVE, IT WILL NOT BE EASY, BUT FEAR NOT, FOR CREATION IS ON YOUR SIDE."

So he takes the bamboo sword flute in his hands, and lifting it to his lips he begins to play it for the first time, or rather it plays him...


Monday, June 18, 2007

Advice




Single Dads dating advice,

Don't date people who are or have been crackheads.


Thursday, May 24, 2007

Velocity




I finally reached escape velocity from the slowly decreasing orbit that's car sales. I am so fuckin pleased. I'm Getting a salary a office, a couple computers, health care, and a fatty expense account; lets not forget the union membership and 3 weeks of vacation. The perks are too many to number.

Theres something to be said for blindly forging ahead for months and months while everybody tells you no.

The biggest change is my schedule. I miss having the morning with my youngest daughter. I do get to see them both almost every night however. Not as long as I would like, but long enough to let them know that I love them. With Q getting rteady to move her new family to a bigger house and her wedding she has been really busy and I have been able to spend every weekend with my daughters because she's to busy to spend time with them. I love every moment I get with them so It's no sweat off my balls.



My health care expired the other day. A couple of days later I wwent to the drug store to get my script filled for my crazy pills. I had tried to go off them but witout them, I became so loopy and disconnected it was scary. So in order to stave off the withdrawl I decided to just buy the pills without insurance. THe pills were almost $200 so I decided to try and see if I could go another day without them. After 12 more hours without the pils my balance was off and I didn't have a straight thought in my head. I had to go get the pills or I never would have been able to perform at work. Sure enough, after a coule hours the pills brought me back to "level" What a strange experience.

My new job has opened up more time to work out and spend sociallizing. Mostly, because my free time no coincides with the rest of the world.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

I could be asian ........

I'm so happy, I sold all my favorite books, the ones that make the core of my personality, on e-bay, with shipping, I'll pay you to take them. Of course, they all sold to rabid buyers, knowing a good deal when they see one. You know a good deal when you see one, don't you ?

The things people take for nothing everyday those are the pleasures I drink. Hedonism in the minutia.



I'm so happy I could be a freshly painted pink door







perhaps, an asian.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

My new Tattoo

Wow ! It's been a log time since I blogged, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, time.

I am really happy these days. I don't have to see Q hardly at all. I'm working, sober, and getting lots of lovin from great people.

I started my new tattoo.

Here tis.

If I get 2 comments I'll post more later as it progresses







Wow ! It's been a log time since I blogged, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, time.

I am really happy these days. I don't have to see Q hardly at all. I'm working, sober, and getting lots of lovin from great people.

I started my new tattoo.

Here tis