I haven’t reached the “I think I’m a banana tree” stage yet.
Another day and I woke up breathing. Life goes on.
Understanding clinical depression, major depression is a place where I am profoundly talented at defining from experience.
This is the place where sleeping and waking become blurred with interrupted sleep cycles, a constant sense of disassociation from “reality” as most know it, moments of total disorientation.
This is the place where once awake the overwhelming fear, loneliness and worthlessness all come crashing in with the first reminder of it is another day to push through in hope of a better tomorrow.
For me that better tomorrow just doesn’t ever arrive.
I have maintained some scraps of sanity to allow me to move through the demands of daily life with meditation and a determined effort to come back to center from this altered place where I exist now. It is tempting to self-medicate and/or just check out into substance use but that’s not my style now or ever. Oh I’ve been there done that and enjoyed most of it but don’t want to go back now or ever.
So am I ever going to head back to my typical daily rants?
I’m just not sure that I’m inspired anymore because of the reality that surrounds me today.
I live in terror of being alone and find myself alone more and more often because of this. I honestly and fundamentally understand why roomie would run away for the weekends with my current condition ruling life.
As if my inner child has been murdered and no one but me knows it.
As if I am the walking-dead in my current state of decomposition.
A disposable person.
Finding the humor within all this is a gargantuan effort of intellect and experience.
Maybe I just need a good cry and to freaking get over myself.
I’m not sure of anything these days.
That is the Berdache path.
That is the center from which all springs. The flesh has many metamorphosis through life and the worm turns to the beauty of the butterfly with the power to effect the future.
How many lives and futures have I changed?
Even if it is only one then as long as that change is for the better I am satisfied.
Bullied in school, a failure at meeting “expectations” as in 11 years of marriage to a woman, 10 years married to a man and the incredible acts of kindness and love delivered to undeserving sub-humans on too many occasions demonstrated in Dangerous Dan, Victor and now single by choice, provides me perspectives that no one else could ever know.
I know the closet intimately and reject it by understanding that recognition of self is paramount in successful life.
I can not and I will not deny who I am and how I was created by “God” for lack of better communication skills.
I am also intimately connected with the natural world that surrounds us all with understanding of ecology, the web of life and the resiliency of life while recognizing the horrific degradation of the only Earth we are entrusted with.
My first teachers were the Maple Trees of Up State NY. My home and refuge deep within the Hemlock and Beech forest of the Appalachian Mountains glades and ravines.
Long before the Forsythia and crocus blooms heralded the awakening spring the Maple that stood sentry outside my window unfurled the blood-red fuzzy blooms and we, like Vampires, tapped my brethren for their life’s blood to produce that sweet elixir of Maple Syrup.
Summer was cooled by the Maple’s leaves, larger than my hands at the time, that fanned and concealed the deepest secrets of my child’s soul.
Fall arrives with my brethren spilling their blood across the mountainsides to be ogled by the throngs of city-dwellers who would cruise the dirt roads.
I seldom mourned the passing of one of my brethren in the bitterest cold of January and with cannon-shot explosion opening a glade where sweet grass, trillium, may-apples, dog-tooth violets and monarda would draw the life to it even with all the splendor of death as the corpse lay rotting and exposed.
Today I identify closely with the rotting corpse in my current state of decomposition.
The dance of the feces revisited.
Maybe I should’ve called the embalmer in at 29?
Thirty years late recognizing that; aren’t I?
Life is a terminal condition.
No one gets out alive.
I am this moment now, nothing more or less.
I am a collection of experiences, and expression of the environment within which I was formed and I am nothing.
What will anything matter in 100 years?
So welcome to my world.
This is where Reverend Mother Ipheelia Peters of the Wild Things Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence found her immaculate conception and virgin birth.
It is from this inner soul sheltered in the secret glades, oasis of life in a sea of illusion, that the pain is released and the intuitive strength of natural energy cleanses my soul.
My Imp and muse is gone and I am alone.
I laugh about being Giraffe in my old age and that’s come from an obscure study by some dizzy Britt of Rothschild Giraffes male-bonding for protection that often lasts a life time. So here is the “perfect storm” that has struck:
Vile and demeaning employment.
Threats to having a roof over my head and food on the table.
Facing dependency and fighting it all the way but threatened to the core.
Facing physical decomposition in doing battle with the diabetes and God only knows what else.
Making a conscious decision to come off anti-depressants.
The loss of Avery.
No time to grieve.
Life is relentless.
Weekend Warrior 5.18.13
I am in “recovery” mode again and moving through life without my Imp is still not easy but I am doing this as I have throughout lifetime of losses. Part of the difficulties in life for me now are because of this trigger of grief with Avery’s death and the amplification of the feelings created from being without anti-depressants. I have a Doctor’s appointment on Thursday and will seriously discuss going back on them to maintain my functional status as a human.
The house is quiet with roomie off to a friends for the weekend and me being homo-alone to deal with me. What a frightening thought. It is times like these when I discover new wellsprings of faith and hope in a better tomorrow even if they are seldom to never realized the tools get me through. The Bea bird is being a demanding creature without Avery to keep her company. At least she is back to feeding herself that’s a big help to me now.
Facing the loneliness issues is one of the most difficult parts of today and each day. I can fool myself into thinking there is companionship with a roomie but the reality is very different. I am more alone than ever in life before and that’s intended and intentional.
A while back I heard from Mikey The Beer Sponge who is in the lap of luxury where he wanted to be being cared for by family and living on the dole. His vile words of “I wish you well” were beyond the pale as this was the creature Hell-Bent on destruction of my life and any life about it. There was no companionship there after the addiction moved in and there clearly was only the animus of a vile self-hating Catholic Homosexual without redeeming qualities ever. It turned into the vile, hateful and vitriolic creature that spawned it years into the relationship.
Better-off alone is the mantra of the day, week, year and remainder of life for me. I will not ever again face the absolute betrayal of a “say-one-thing; do-another” professional liar and addict. I will not ever be subject to the sabotage of a self-hating homophobe and the Catholic Guilt that drove his addiction and fueled his hate.
The lessons of Victor were quick and simple as with any narcissist. It was and always will be all-about-Victor and that’s all that matters in it’s petty world. I may not be the brightest light bulb in the pack but I saw that clearly from early on in the relationship. The reality was that I was more alone with Victor than without him. Funny how that happens.
So today I loose myself in gardening, in doing the domestic goddess things that I try to avoid all week and caring for me. The Warrior is at rest but is far from home still.
Terrorist Tuesday 5.14.13
Progress but no perfection on getting into see a Doctor here so I’m being encouraged with the 48 hours turn-around time promised. Finding medical treatment here in Pinellas County is a lesson in the dichotomy of this system constructed intentionally by the Insurance and Medical professions to insure their greed is satisfied. Being a white male is the biggest barrier at this point, in my humble opinion.
Life is getting better but there are no substantive improvements, only my lifting the depression by sheer will and maintaining focus has spared me the usual pits of Hell this morning. This is an insane world we live within so I fit right in.
There is no greater argument for Universal Health Care in the United States than the pure greed and animus of the Insurance Companies. Why is it that an initial office visit costs more than most earn in a week in this economy? Then the costs of the testing to cover the physician’s malpractice insurance requirements rather than be diagnostic tools runs $3 to $5 hundred dollars on top of that. Add to that the lost wages for the time required to get through the waiting room and finally see a physician for less than 10 minutes. What’s wrong with this picture?
I’m not breaking into a major rant on anything today. Just looking at the world around me, as an American Citizen, I am totally disgusted with the Fools on the Hill, the Kabuki and Fraud perpetrated against Americans and the War on Main Street these twisted meat-puppets have declared.
I am hand-feeding Bea Bird because she’s refusing to eat after Avery died and it’s just one more chore in life that I willingly accept to keep this living jewel within my life with me.
Working from home has been a God-Send for me. I am not fit to travel or suffer the exposure of cubicles of compliance and the Nazi Corporate atmosphere. This hostile work place and the Ownership are as vile and reprehensible as I’ve ever experienced with their stealing from employees, unilateral pay changes and “Figures don’t lie but Liars figure” demonstrations in life. I am seeking appropriate employment but with the health issues, the lack of transportation and the general economic conditions I am limited but still searching.
A New Week, A new World.
From the vantage point of hovering on the brink of absolute and utter destruction and considering my current state of decomposition there are no options left, no do-overs and blissfully; no regrets. From the ashes hope springs infernal.
Attaining Center from this point is a gargantuan feat requiring super-human strength today. Ti Chi on the beach failed to re-align Center.
The rapid trip to the grocery store for coffee too much a plunge into the Matrix for me to bear.
The feelings of just being a 3-eyed, drooling Troll way too much to bear today but I’ll get through.
Mindfulness helps focus on the now and that now is beautiful chamber of commerce 82 degree weather perfect for this Certified Tropical Fruit. I feel as if I am back in Honduras or Columbia at the3,500 coffee belt level. I could just do the happy-dance of the feces over today.
I am in mourning, wounded and alone.
That’s the standard Gay & Gray syndrome, right?
Mostly we Gay Men know alone better than most humans.
I’ve found some humor in going into the darkest corners (without adult supervision) of me and survived wounds that would have others crumble. I’ve seen way too many to succumb and it’s long past time for dying young and leaving a great looking corpse. I’m going out with a chocolate martini in one hand, joint in the other looking like I’ve had a wonderful time in life.
Don Miguel Ruiz, Peck, Melody Beaty, Redmond, Joseph Campbell and Sigoyle Rimpuche are all among the river of self-help and exploration of self that have eagerly been devoured.
Today still feels like a Percival day having the flesh rent from the bone by the briars in search of the Holy Grail.
A large portion of today is the Matrix reality that reduces all humans to cash value and itemized deductions.
The now in the sunshine is bliss but reality will strike rapidly and the damages mitigated. That will be at my expense as is typical in life with Kevin, the after-birth of the American Dream.
I freely admit to my Altered Perceptions in and of life because of who I am. The product of Up State NY Republican (when they were still sane) Committee people and active party members of the 1960s. I am the baby boy with only a younger sister and 2 of 3 brothers still surviving as far as I know. Toxic humans and I’m eternally grateful for paternal grandparents buffering influences and for pandering to my insatiable reading appetite.
My Cooter Farm upbringing aside; I survived and have moved through life with a foundation of ideals that have kept me in good stead. For the most part I trust myself and admit freely to being absolutely insane if you must have a reason for me being me.
I have taken the road less traveled.
I have been blessed twice and cursed once in love and that’s an OK place today in my single life. I do miss the companionship and the intimacy but life moves on and who else but me to pick up pieces?
I think what gets to me most these days is the absolutely overwhelming feeling of loneliness that comes in waves and consumes everything in it’s path. That’s the foundation of the “3-eyed Troll” & “My current state of decomposition.” Just for the record.
There are some wonderful mitigating factors in life with a friend living with me now but these are independent lives. I giggle over the “Giraffes” description I stumbled across in some obscure study of Rothschild’s giraffes and male bonding for protection that lasts throughout life. Its a great help to me to know there is another human within earshot most of the time.
The diabetes is having a hay day and I’m working through the “system” to get into see a physician. Still jumping through “qualification” hoops with these folks. What absolutely terrifies me is the loss of eye sight and the rapidity of that. The neuropathy is life-altering too with the hot-spots and numbness. I have it under control for the moment but meds run out in two weeks and the pace of approval is slower than a snail.
I’m working diligently to haul my happy self back up from the abysmal pits with some success. Coming to acceptance of mortality and frailty of life with way too many examples is OK. That’s a large part too.
The humor is being restored.
My world is a funny place and I am among the funniest residents.
When I weaned myself off prosac in 1996 it was several months of absolute Hell and torture. This current anti-depressant Citalopram is equally as difficult but I am one month today without and the intense peaks have begun to come to a rational and normal level. I don’t know if I have the ability to convey what happens when one comes off these brain chemistry altering substances. In my experience while taking them the highest highs and lowest lows are removed for a warm-death medium response to any and every stimulus. Once these chemicals leave the peaks and valleys become amplified as if all that middle explodes and the aggregate of the prior experiences a lens with laser focus and electron microscope magnification.
It is from within this pure living Hell that Avery died on top of getting dug out financially, being sorely abused by life and coming to terms with the “new” me chemical free. Absolutely terrifying places one and all and combined with the amplification makes them an exquisite living Hell.
The messages that life delivers are hard to take and I know I am way too sensitive at this moment.
Hauling this massive, decomposing corpse around reminds me that I really should’ve had the embalming at 29.
I have the full-length mirror positioned to catch sight of myself first thing in the morning to kick start the heart. None of this will matter in 100 years but it sure is real today.
Gay & Gray moves through it’s 50 shades…
The “torture,” oh my the “horrors” of failing to have one’s self embalmed at 29.
Looking from the vantage point of today, fully self-sufficient within it and fully proficient in the technologies creates an amplification of this feeling of alone. In America the “social” skills and graces are a dwindling phenomenon and this shift in American civility and priorities very reflective of that DE-humanization.
Within my life the experiences of the first TV, party line telephones with rotary dials and seeing man walk on the Moon to today’s global instant communications; the removal of humanity from the process of “communication” is now accepted as fact and reality.
Woodstock, Kent State, Stonewall and the Chicago demonstrations all are within my grasp from being alive and conscious during the events. The Kennedy Assassinations, Martin Luther King and the list goes on ad nauseium into infinity. From JFK’s assassination onward the world’s Center has shifted clearly into the Dynasty of Death’s agenda.
My experiences with life, having the great good fortune to survive in this hostile world of Nepalatino Gestapo Grope-Patrols, the Police State created by the War On Main Street waged by Washington provides me voice today.
My intimate knowledge and skills in observation and identification for accurate communication provides me little joy as the diversity dwindles. My childhood experiences of clear-cutting and improved forestry management have saved some in the Tropics while the reef systems and surface water are Chemical Lawn green.
Where is the America of my Grandparent’s generation and why aren’t more Americans up in arms over this foundational attack by the Corporate Super-Person on all our safety, welfare and survival?
Why do Americans accept the Corporate-Capture of Government by the Corporate Super-Person with more access to Government than you or I and more rights to free speech?
As an avid historian my curiosity is inflamed as to the How, Why, Who, What, When and Where of this very real condition in America today because Americans appear to have absolutely no memory beyond 5 minutes past. I’m not sure if that’s the voyeuristic 24/7 news cycle that passes as Journalism today or an intentional (as in Rupert Murdoch/Alies unholy alliance in Faux Spews and Fiends fairly unbalanced Tabloid TV) bias or if it is driven by the root of the War Mentality that now consumes this nation.
I’ve always considered myself a Berdache (One of two spirits) as shared in oral tradition when my Iroquois Grandmother recognized me. I self-identified as Gay since early teens and I have worked diligently to find common ground with everyone. No matter how hard I tried to conform to the social expectations with the woman who was almost the man of my dreams; I failed.
Today’s perspective puts Mike (aka Mikey The Beer Sponge) in the realm of guilty Catholic abusers by design and having seen addiction consume on those levels; ones taste and experience are too actively involved in mere survival to ever enjoy a buzz. I am no baby-sitter for a grown man who “can’t” while I can. Karmic rewards are sure and life moves on. As a survivor I am grateful, again, for that Berdache patterning that allows twice the strength when others would collapse.
Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane was a fun rush too but not something I pursue with the passion a man with his hair on fire exhibits for a pond. The alteration of the brain chemistry, the empowerment of making that leap of faith is a redefining moment for any human faced with making the choice between brain and body ownership.
Positioning the full length mirror so I catch sight of me first thing in the morning may be the only thing keeping the pacemaker away.
From this current state of decomposition the very real and alarming reality of a militarized Police, more Gestapos than Citizens and history as clearly defined in the Dynasty of Death rule this Earth either through outright purchase or subversion.
Orwell’s 1984 was 29 years ago and we are living the fruits of that nightmare today.
Weekend Warrior 5.11
I’ve been working to distract myself from the painful reality of my Imp* departing and the conditions of today with little to no success. That may be part of this strange fascination with Gay & Gray that’s begun consuming me in my current state of decomposition.
When some dis-embodied voice over the phone or flesh and blood in front of me asks: “What State are you from?”
I gleefully respond “Confusion.”
This is not just humor and playful banter but a reflection of a much deeper truth of America and Americans today from my humble perspective of looking outside in. I enjoy employing this nearly as much as the stock response I have for: “Is the glass half-empty or Half-full?” in “You have twice the damned glass you need.”
Both answers are intentionally thought-provoking and create an emotional state of confusion from which truth inevitably breaks free. Kevin’s creative and interactive world is explored through this tool employed ever more frequently in my current state of decomposition.
Earlier in life I became very well acquainted with the “disposable-human” mindset by exposure and reality so I do understand that subset of culture in America. If nothing more; the experiences of Mikey The Beer Sponge and family ego mass define this as poster-children for Catholic guilt and absolute destruction of anything beyond their narrow and petty grasp. Dangerous Dan and ilk thieves re-enforced this and continue in their Irish Traveler life-style.
For me real change came when I recognized, during the 5 years wars with Victor that narcissists, abusers and guilt-ridden humans have no place in my life regardless of redeeming qualities (if any exist) or the joy of the moment. All demonstrate the mind-set of: “You left me just when I needed you most.” With this statement a clear understanding of that “bait & switch” tactic displays the primary intent from these [sub]humans from their first insidious worming into life.
I accept my involvement and commitment in these issues with little to no remorse, regret or animosity because in the final examination none of it will matter in 100 freaking years anyway.
There is an odd anecdote about Involvement & Commitment from my swimming upstream in a river of Self-Help books: Commitment and Involvement are best defined by a ham & eggs breakfast. The chicken is involved but the pig is committed.
All this and much more comprises the human who addresses the world today with compassion and a profound enlightenment of soul resulting from survival. I am of the firm conclusion that “survival” in this hostile environment is the best any of us are able to sustain.
Some never attain enlightenment. Hell’s Bells; from my experience damned few are ever able to attain “Human” status much less “civilized, socialized or enlightened.” In this sanitized “un-friend,” Internet, Texting, Skype to Drone attacks DE-humanized and DE-personalized homogenized culture of “disposable-humans” as constructed by media and Corporate Super-Person captured Government what is one to expect? Socialization, Civics and Cultural Obligations no longer apply and that’s apparent in the dumbing-down of this once great nation and it’s People, Sheeples and unwashed wanna-bes fleeing from a Corporate-Created 3rd World at home to the “promise” of America’s Orwellian decay.
Hope Springs Infernal.
Today is one of “those” days when a Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas could easily rule my world because that is the Matrix-Reality seen just beyond the end of my nose. This is triggered with life & death reality and all the charm of a good Christian Fag-Bashing and those boys will never learn it is much nicer to kiss. I am not going on a “Gonzo-Journalism” rant here either.
I fully acknowledge being less than “Centered” at this moment with clear understanding that My Center is now altered and the equilibrium not quite restored from the shift. The “Ellie Mae Clampett” in me resurrected by reality. I am true to my Berdache Path and, Like Bosho & Sora celebrate the sorrows and joys.
“Infested now with lice and fleas, the horse beside my pillow pees.” Basho from Narrow Road To The Interior.
It is my “attachment” that is the source of my pain. There is no alone in that we are all-one. That is my silly platitude for the day and it functions for me in adhering to the NOW that is the best any of we conscious humans are able to muster.
* Imp: Avery, a Red-Sided Eclectus (Roratus roratus) parrot with me for 28 years died on 4/30/2013.
Avery is Gone
My Imp, the light of my life, passed away last week and I’m only now coming to the place where I’m able to function enough to share. Avery passed away on Tuesday afternoon a week ago after 28 years with me (save for brief exception with Mark and Casey whom I love dearly for that and other reasons.) as the living jewel who loved me.
I am absolutely devastated and more alone now in life than ever before..
Weekend Warrior 5.0
Another graphic example of Will Rogers’ proclamation of: “America has the best Government money can buy.” This from the last Gilded Age that took an FDR to bust their greedy, money-grubbing, hoarding balls in pursuit of that God-Almighty Profit at any expense; Pure GREED.
All these vile Oligarchs have raped American’s Main Street with their depressed labor, their obscene sense of entitlement and all forget that if it wasn’t for American’s building and maintaining infrastructure and economy that they would just be another stinking corpse in the street.
Many have never faced a day as Labor in their lives of entitlement and exist upon the fruits of their ancestors rape of America.
This is the full fruition of the Roberts SCOTUS’s equation of Cash equals Free Speech and now you see just how much money talks to these purchased politicians, the Meat-Puppets for the Corporate Super-Person that has captured Government to the detriment of the United States Citizens by design from the Roberts’ Court to the WalMart impoverished labor.
Roberts and his cohorts immaculate conception and virgin birth of the Corporate Super-Person coupled with their treasonous Citizen’s United decision defines just how Ill America is today because of the Contempt and absolute Animus that drives the Fascist Holy Republican and Teapublican Cults of Jeebus Inc into ever greater rape of America.
The NEO-CON state of Perpetual War is upon us and that War is against Main Street and we all see that, we all know that and we are not accepting this as the new normal now or ever.
These vile Oligarchs are disgusting, the laws pertaining to elections in the United States a joke and given the gerrymandering and voter suppression; the Fascist Tactics are clearly intent upon the destruction of America as surely a the Patriot Act, the National Defense Authorization Act and all shred the Constitution.
The Largest Terrorist Nation on the face of the Earth is America’s claim to fame today and we murder, torture, create Gulags and rape indescriminately to feed the greed of the Military Industrial Congressional complex that Ike warned us all of over 60 years ago.
The Meat Puppets on CapitAl Hill are the clear and pressing danger in the United States today just as in any 3rd World country and what these vile Oligarchs have done in Central and South America they now bring to American Main Streets to continue their rape of this planet.
“Those that give up essential liberty for a little temporary safety deserve neither safety nor liberty.” Benjamin Franklin, one of our pot-smoking, hard-drinking Terrorist to the Crown Founding Fathers.
You asked for this America; you’ve got it.
“A one paragraph excerpt to define who this Ted Cruz is owned by:
On March 13, 1962, the Northwoods document was brought to Kennedy’s attention. The Joint Chiefs of Staff and Allen Dulles had drawn up a plan to launch a series of terrorist attacks within the United States, combined with a media blitz blaming Cuba for the attacks. They believed this would frighten the American public into overwhelmingly supporting a second invasion of Cuba. The Northwoods plan called for Pentagon and CIA paramilitary forces to sink ships, hijack airliners and bomb buildings. When Kennedy heard of their plan, he was furious. The corrupt military industrial power structure within the American government knew no bounds, not even the lives of their own countrymen mattered in their quest for power and profit. Kennedy removed CIA director Allen Dulles, deputy director Richard Bissell and General Lyman Lemnitzer, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, for their parts in the plan. Within weeks Prescott Bush who had close dealings with these individuals, chose to retire prematurely from politics for supposed health reasons.
© Copyright October 10, 2006 by Schuyler Ebbets. This article is posted on http://www.thepeoplesvoice.org Permission is granted for reprint in print, email, blog, or web media if this credit is attached and the title remains unchanged.
The Dynasty of Death lives on.
The full moon weekend was festive and restive although in retrospect it is a bit of “misery loves company” with the Gay 7 Gray set that is me and the few peers remaining.
I’ve become completely disenchanted with the AOHell Huffington Post and their censorship.
As a political pundit it’s an infuriating place living in AmeriKKKa today. I’m working on ways to communicate that effectively so it may be heard by many rather than just the like minded..
Amazingly this doesn’t pass the censorship:
I’ve been diligently working to find a voice that passes the censorship board and have some success so here goes:
These Holy Republican Cults of Jeebus Inc Luddite Meat-Puppets and Missionaries of Hate are not representative of “We The People” in spite of just having passed their liars contests on Main Street. There isn’t a Statesman in the lot of these purchased pigs at the trough.
It is clear to this American that the Corporate-Capture of Government is what Ike warned us of in 1960 with a perpetual state of War as the NEO-CON wet dream of reality today with no defined enemy combatant other than “terrorist,” a tactic; not a nation but a political ideology. In America today you only need be labeled “terrorist” and you too may enjoy indefinite detention and the ChainE (looking for tissue match) hospitality of GITMO.
This Clown-Car full of pandering pigs is on display as never before and they revel in the Kabuki as the Department of Injustice surrenders to Wall Street and the Greedy Bankster thieves.
The only “priority” inside the Beltway is where is my next stack-o-cash coming from? Where can I sell my vote today?
The Uterine focus of the Holy Republican Cults of Jeebus Inc is convenient for them to distract the fearful fundamentalist Buy-Bull Thumpers and Taliban as they all huddle in that recto-cranial position of I, Me, MY that rules their petty, ill lives as “representatives” of the American People. Look at the mighty white and know the lies of Wars, Fraud and endorsement of that all with “Looking forward and not back” from the Moderate Republican in the Goldman Sachs White House now.
Hate to break it to you America but Myth Romney Vs Obama was a repeat of the Alvin Green Vs Demented in SC (that being the trial run).
The Dynasty of Death still rules as the ChainE idiot puppet paints his toes in Tyler, TX and opens a library because he finally finished that 3rd coloring book.
Wake up America!
2014 is coming and for me Hope Springs Infernal because I demand to know just what direction “Forward” is an understand clearly the Orwellian circumstances that exist.
The reality is that these vile and slimy creatures hold America’s Main Street and labor in absolute contempt.
The War rage on because that’s the prosperity vacuum these vile creatures utilize to Rape America.
Saturday morning here and JT has been through for a quick visit on the way to Lowes or some other big box store to fill up his spare time.
I’m lounging in the sunshine waiting on Greg & Craig for the Gay and Gray brigade to start hooting and hollering. The Lee has been off and about town for several days and I’m just being lonely today. Stuff happens.
This whole Gay & Gray routine is wearing on me this week.
New acquaintances and just keeping faith is about the best we are all able to accomplish in this life. I’ve been blessed several times over with love and happiness so today is OK.