Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

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Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

I wonder if the new king of England could get away with chopping off the head of his wife. What do you think about that parasite?

"I think you are a turd."

Fair enough. Flush twice.
*

Grating.
Getting under a readers skin.
Going forward and backward in an emotional rollercoaster.

"Ban the books!"
"Ban the books!"
'Ban the books!"

Again the question: Can the new king of England chop off the head of his wives?
The answer: No, but his wives can cut the head off of his children with the royal knife of abortion.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

"Let them eat cake!"

What's up now parasite, are you running for a political office?

"No. You have to be fully and absolutely a retarded idiot with huge mental issue to even think of being a politician. What I'm saying is today everyone should eat cake. Specifically, chocolate cake."

You know what? That's the best thing I've heard from you in a long time.

"Can we get cake today?"

Yes, and cookies.
***

Politicians Promise

1. To pretend to listen to those who they pretend to represent.
2. To look at themselves in a mirror and believe they are important.
3. To enrich their personal position
4. To control others to the point of their surrender or destruction

'a chicken in every pot'
'vote for me and I will ensure your right to kill babies'
'I prayed to god and he said to run'
'we need change'
'I will lower taxes'
'free medical care'
'the strongest military in the world'
'supporting the right to marry a frog, cow, chicken, tree'
'we need to educate the children the right way'

Voters Promise

1. To pretend they care for something important
2. To look at themselves in a mirror and believe they are important.
3. To enrich their personal position
4. To control others to the point of their surrender or destruction

'I want free food'
'I want to kill babies'
'I don't believe in god'
'I don't pay taxes, everyone else should'
'I want free medical care'
'I don't give a shit about the military, just make sure I have free internet
'I can fuck or marry anything I want'
'I pretend that children are important as long as we can abuse them'

Gods Promise

1. To love everyone
2. To believe everyone is important
3. To bestow Life and enrich everyone with life.
4. To allow free will

'i will provide nourishment for the body and soul'
'i love babies'
'i am'
'render unto Caesar what is caesars, render unto God what is God's'
'ask and you will be healed'
'seek the protection of the Lord'
'the gift of Love is eternal'
'Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Writers Parasite Promise

1. Eat cake
2. To laugh at the silly antics of humans and writers in particular. Occasionally eating a mirror.
3. Eat more cake
4. To say and be whatever whims seem interesting.

'stay away from politicians'
'stay even farther away from politicians'
'torture Agent Barton'
'play tricks on humans and writers in particular.'
'eat more cake'
'never, ever, hurt a child or baby'
'kick robin in the nuts

robins promise

1. sleep
2. work
3. write
4. eat cake

'stay away from politicians'
'stay so far away from politicians that the planet Pluto is neared'
'laugh at the military's of the world'
'giggle at scientists'
'torture Agent Barton'
'stay alive until dead'
'pay taxes'
'never, ever, hurt a child or baby'.
'place the parasite in a vat of liquid nitrogen to see if it can still swim'
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Writers are intriguing. They write from experience or are empathic to a readers desire. Imagine a Jewish Rabbi writing a story about the life of being an SS officer of the Third Reich... Bizarre but possible.

I enjoy reading stories by writers using personal experiences. Take Obama for example. Read his books. His experience matches the hilarious things he can write about. Or Trump. Or Sean Hannity. Or Hitler...

A lot of stories on this thread. Fiction? Non fiction? Who cares. They are nothing more than stories which leads up to what the next few stories will be.

The next few stories will be personal experiences of robin b. lipinski. They will contain fiction, they will will contain non fiction. It is inspiring to do this as to prove a point. What do readers know to be real or fantasy when reading a story...

The first story is title: Old Steel Bridge
It is a story about fishing.
***

The Flathead river flowed through the Flathead valley. Already it was three rivers combined into one. There was the Middle Fork, the South Fork, and the North Fork.

So many rivers meander with the flow of gravity. They pass towns and villages on their journey to the oceans of the world.

The Flathead flowed past Columbia Falls. It flowed past Polson. It flowed under many bridges to include the Old Steel bridge near Evergreen.

Fall. The season where leaves of the cottonwood turned yellow and flew free in the breeze. It was the time where kokanee salmon swam upriver from the deep waters of Flathead lake.

Thousands of salmon swam against the current. They had purpose, will, and ability. The eagles feasted. The hawk. The human.

A boy fished the river after school, his father dropping him off to allow him to try his hand at snagging thirty salmon with a weighted treble hook named, the silver spider.

Crystal clear water. Thousands of fish. Tricks to test the hook, the favorite being to paint the hook bright orange and casting ten to fifteen feet into the river from the shore. The painted hook would rest on the gravel bottom easy to watch.

As soon as the orange disappeared, the pole was pulled hard allowing the hook to leap from the bottom and snag a hapless fish.

Many fish fell prey to the boys attempts. His dreams were real and true. The sounds, smells, and feeling as vivid today as they were those many years ago.

It was a good day for the boy. A very good day indeed.

"That's the story? You're leaving out a very important part of the story."

Yes parasite, i did. The audience does not need to know about the bridge troll living under the steel bridge.

"Whatever. You bore me."

There is a bridge troll under the Old Steel bridge. An old troll. A friend. He makes the most wonderful tea and is indeed a prankster. His activities caused many fishermen and fisherwomen to lose their hooks.
***

So, what is the reality and what is the fantasy? Seems easy and a no brainer. You would be extremely surprised as to the truth...
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

The two boys were aged three and four. Normal boys in normal times.

Many times their parents would travel for business or pleasure. Sometimes they would travel to Vegas. Sometimes they would travel to unknown destinations.

When young boys are separated for a few moments they are left in the care of a custodian. Such custodians go by many names: Relatives, friends, baby sitters, killers...

For the boys there was the time they were left with a woman whose last name was, Urbin. She was a powerful woman. A devout Catholic. A mother of boys and girls. She was one who watched the boys many times during their young years. There are many stories concerning her but for this story, she watched the two boys for a few days while the parents were busy traveling.

At the Urbin's home it was a simple structure. Yellow in color. Multi storied. It was located in the country where fields met forest. There was no indoor plumbing other than an old fashioned water pump operated by hand. For toiletries involving the bowels there was a small building outside called, outhouse. It was there where one went to pee or shit.

It was a summer day. A sunny hot day. Mrs. Urbin had a husband once who worked at the Coca Cola bottling plant in Kalispell. He worked hard and for the boys his face was blank as was Mrs. Urbin. This bit of obscure identity is meaningless for the boys as they filled an old Coca Cola soda dispenser with ice cold water. The dispenser was what you would now call an antique. It was a cooler with a top with two lids. The insides were galvanized metal. The two boys greatly enjoyed the cooling effects of the water.

Later that night the boys went to sleep in the girls room with two girls. They were older girls. They were beautiful girls. Their beds large and soft. The room was located on the second floor and it was an interesting walk for the boys to climb down the stairs in the middle of the night to go pee in the outhouse.

What happened for one boy that night sleeping in a bed with a woman much older than himself and not a relative was 'magical'. What happened some might say? i say that is for the imagination of a reader to decide as it is what they want anyway.

After a few days the boys parents came home and took the two back to a home they were familiar with. A very fine home filled with love and adventure.

As for the Urbin girls, they soon were finished with their childhoods and grew into women who became very devout nuns in the Catholic church.

To ease the minds of some readers interested in why this story at this time and that is because magic knows no boundaries in time. Faces are not important. Time is not important. Physical interests and needs are not important. What was important was one boy in particular sleeping in bed with a very interesting girl.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Nightmares are dreams which cause the dreamer to be 'uncomfortable'. A lot of people have nightmares of which some have such bad dreams they scream and wake up.

The boy had never had a nightmare. Not since the day he took form as a human until the day his body became old. Not one nightmare. Nothing but good dreams...

As a boy the mind quickly grew for the boy to never fear anything, rather the body and mind 'feared' emotions other people had. The boy learned it was not proper to kiss girls. The boy learned there is a strong hate emitted from the human species. The boy learned that there is a built in fear mode for the biological body. This fear could be controlled somewhat but it definitely served a purpose. Free climbing a mountain without ropes, assistance, or gear, the scree started to slide due to gravity. The young mans body froze in fear while the mind formulated an escape. From every situation there is escape even if the body is completely destroyed.

Getting back to nightmares, the boy did have a learning dream necessary to ensure safety checks were put in place:

The dream was of shopping carts with intelligence and will. The carts were mobile without any aid by any creatures visible or invisible. These carts prowled the downstairs of the boys house. They had evil intentions of which the boy easily ran from room to room only to have the cart chase him.

The boys mind in the dream came up with a solution.

The cart chased the boy down the hallway and the boy jumped onto the first step of the stairway. This caused the cart to become angry just as it became a useless threat. The boy stood on the step and the steps going higher and higher until they reached eternity.

The boy looked at the cart and smiled, this caused the cart to become extremely angry and it vibrated so severely it fell apart into pieces and disappeared.

Smiling the boy woke with the lesson learned: Always stay one step ahead of any threat/evil/enemy. In this the possibility of the boy/man ever getting hurt deeply by humans has now become impossible.

This now sets up for the story of mother and father.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Writers write about mothers and fathers in many ways. Some families practice polygamy, some incest, some 'traditional', some religious, and currently some writers write about mothers who are men and women who are fathers. All very fascinating.

A mother is a female with two XX chromosomes while a father is a male with one X and one Y chromosome. Simple and easy to understand, what is not easy to understand is that not all men who sire children are fathers nor are many females giving birth.

A mother is female and puts much energy and love into the children under their reign. This includes adoptive mothers, natural mothers, social workers, and any female that shows a child a loving way to grow and learn.

A father is the same.
*
The boy had the best mother in the world and it was not his birthing female. The mother was of this world and lived greatly with extreme love and guidance.

His father was the best father in the world and he did not sire the boy, rather he was of this world and another world.

The biological connections become non-existent for the boy and his 'natural' parents. The biological spawners served a needed purpose while his real mother and father were the purpose...

*

Father knew the day i was born. His hand was direct and firm in the placement of trash into a pile of treasure
He was from the stars; comet rider and healer

Mother knew the day before i was born. Her hand was firm and loving, opening a home to a son.
She was from Earth; Far more a saint than a sinner.

Together they helped create a daughter, a great disappointment embracing worldly pleasures so far from the stars the night blinded.

Karl... A conundrum, a brother. Toying with evil while fleeing to hide under God's shadow.

A family much needed to grow, to blossom, and flower.

Never alone. Never. They are always at my side.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Have you ever seen God? The God? The One true God? Not to boast, but i have
God is funny
God is loving
God is totally and absolutely fucking amazing!

"Are you drunk again?"

No parasite. It would take an Ocean to get me drunk.

"You're weird."

Yes i am parasite. Yes i am...

***

Anyway i first saw God waaaaaaay before i was born. i and I are different. By now some readers/ writers are starting to get a point to this thread. Most are confused far past the obvious.

it is good, you see, good. There is no margin for error. No mistakes. It and it, is and Is, an aboslute!

So, BANG BANG BANG!

(and there was the first test by father to see if i could see...)
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Father watched and guided. Those early 'meetings', a gathering of 'people'. Play and coffee. Books and smells. He rarely slept as his body had no real need. His eyes ever gazing the night sky. His job to heal broken bodies. Viet Nam. Lei Twe the Siamese cat knocking over the Christmas tree and then giving birth to kittens in Karl's crib. Father hated coffee, much more preferring the syrupy sugar and caffeine of Coke and Mountain Dew. 9-12 bottles a day.

He was a woman's man... He balanced a religion with who and what i am.

Walking the field with he and a brother... the first test. Not once but twice...Soooooo much intelligence from the mound down by the creek. Intense the stare. Communication as real as if I was not even there.

Karl alluded. He tried. He failed, though helping to find the hole into the other world. A world there before you now. So easy to see and feel.

A doctor of the mind without 'faith' would subjugate an answer of delusions and illusions; sickness of the mind, but father was a doctor of multiple worlds. His faith secure and eternal. All around you and most of you choose to remain blind.

There were many tests. All important. His smile. His stern. His laughter. His power as light as a flower and yet able to crush mountains...

Puberty of a human body is a blissful and semi controlled disaster. Hair popping up in strange places. Pimples. Muscles and voice. The body grew so fast a cast was made and worn as the muscles pulled apart the bodies bones...

Sex? Ha! It is why humanity exists otherwise they would totally choose to destroy themselves. The 'visitors bearing gifts' (foolish human, when will you learn to say, "no".) They tried to separate a part of what is not human. Oh, they tried hard in a location far from this planet with such a beautiful woman in heat...Only, they failed. Walking up the stairs, father smiled.

"Go eat some turkey dude. You're just making a fool of yourself."

Parasite? Today i am going to pat that thing you call a head on your purple mass and say that we both will eat well and heal.

"Oh boy...Can I poke you will a sharp stick?"

Sure.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

The Healing Coat

He wore it in the comfort of his home and now he wears it.
A special garb
Gray.
Heavy.
Wool.
Buttons and a belt, as if the closeness would allude to security.
Most importantly above the obvious, it works.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Saccapa Island located on Little Bitteroot Lake was a Boy Scout Camp. To get there you drive past a small town called, Marion. Not much of a story except two girls disappeared. The law searched high and low for them.

An interesting lake, an interesting island. The law was fun to watch as they dug up buried fecal matter buried on the main land. All the shit from the island was hauled to shore via the barge. it was then buried. The barge was a converted vessel from WWII converted into an outhouse. A lot of stories about that barge and Flathead lake... A time a grown man cried for his life.

Anyway, there was a very large and intelligent fish living there. Much was discussed. Much of it 'eery'. Though not as eery as the Monster living in Flathead lake.

Some trivia for you: There are/were/and always will be, talk of a very large witch coven. Lots of talk about robes and roadblocks. What fun!

To watch the clear night sky while angels played in the heavens, and no one cared. Everyone lived with their eyes upon a clock ticking on a wall.

It was a great time.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Greta Thunberg is an inspiration. She is a Swedish girl advocating swift action and removal of most of humanity and technology from this planet. While she does not say she wants the humans exterminated she uses simple words of a simple mind to present what logic can only deem it to be so.

Everything. Every bit of matter combined anywhere in the Universe is in a state of decay. Give a faceted diamond enough time and it will dissolve away into nothing...well, the atoms will slip/slide away only to form more bits of matter. For that matter, that is how Greta Thunberg came to be. Her atomic structure is a combination of destroyed stars, dinosaur shit, and toilet paper of the Roman Senate.

Climate change. Global warming. Global cooling. What some species thrive in other species go extinct. A grand game of replace/create/destroy.

Thankfully Greta Thunberg will cease to be, along with politicians and agents. They will be replaced with giant cockroaches microwave popcorn, and sadly Hunter Biden's shitty pieces of art will hang from a cave wall where a huge colony of ants will worship them as gods.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Picking a piece of lightning out of the pupil it tickled a bit.

Did you feel it?

All across the world something occurred to most of the human population. It can best be described as a story leading to another story with a bit of drama in between...
*

Imagine a body naked laying upon a table spread eagled. The body is not bound.(thor says: no) Interesting how Corgi's know.
animals see, they communicate

Anyway, Thor loses as it will be written.

The body is approached by the jaws of a mouth, full of teeth. Not the normal teeth one is familiar with. The teeth are flashing bits of code one would find in the guts of a computer.

With a swift bite, the jaws clamp down hard in a perfect half circle through the lower digestive tract and reproductive organs.

so many. so fast. so precise.

Not every human received the visit nor the bite. The very old. The dying. Those riddled with incurable disease. They did not receive the bite. Nor did those whose spirits are blacker than obsidian.

Man.
Woman.
Child.

Chomp Chomp Chomp

why?

The bite was not sexual but it did relate to procreation
The bite was not a sign of aggression or dominance
The bite is an adjustment needed to the body/forward to match the changes of the planet coming. Very significant changes including a newly injected element

The digestive system changed to deal with the radiation

Eggs to coexist with a new vibration

Sperm to rise to the occasion.

The humans had no choice in the matter if they were bit or not. It is their timelines which decided.

and now, but first, and then...

in a little black box, God reacted. Witnessing actions of past/present/future coming together in a 'unique' way

Good morning God! i feel playful today. A bit mischievous today.
*

Humans wage war with kinetic weapons and stupidity.
Wearing armor plate, riding a horse and attacking a castle built of stone.

They advanced to techno weapons of laser and viral disease.

Ships of war to sail the seas and below.
Ships to fly the sky.
Ships to destroy from space.

With a snap of fingers it is far more easier to destroy Bejing and Washington DC from the comfort of the mind
using natural forces
and then go back to sleep.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

the star appeared as a triangle. Venus or Jupiter hiding the fact of reaction.

tonight the stars sing a new song. a beautiful song of noted streams of comforting contortions. Folding space and time.

they tell of a comet only they think with the old songs in their heads

Tonight a new song for a new world and they don't even know it.
***

As a baby secure in a space where movement is only as able
Eyes looking up while eyes look down

Whispering for clouds to bring to the homes a vastation of cleansed corruption

Words or song when over head so high and yet in the palm of the hand

a special star

for a special night

a night the baby slept in comfort free from the evils of insecure gods

His hand upon the hilt as the sword glimmers,

No

Harm

Shall

Fall

Upon

The

Children

this night.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Since tonight is special beyond imagination it is only fair to point out the personal experience with what some call, Devil. Or Satan. Or Lucifer. Or Uncle Bob...

i have seen God and since balance of the Universe in all from the sub atomic to the Universe is essential, i have seen and know full well, evil.
***

Not a monsters face as a monster can be a saint
Pristine white skin? I\l )0

Angels have no gender other than what a mind needs to 'believe' so too, the angel of light: Lucifer.

To see him in a car taking me down the wrong direction, the car a wonderful representation of the comforts of human.

Smiling and laughing. Appearing to be befriending with only the intentions of hurting.

Such the offers of women for the man; cloaked rooms with sheets split open to reveal. as if sex is a bait worthy of destruction.

Evil in a form where most of eternity can recognize is more than a variable or biological construct. More than machines or artificial intelligence. More than so many of the dimensions.

For this story it needed to be said that evil was in the shape of man, with a leer looking so sincere more was needed.

Thus in some of the encounters, it was the home of evil truly represented. Home: Place of comfort and abode. Kingdom. Country. Reason.

Hallways filled with uncountable rooms with unimaginable numbers. Open one, any one. Inside you will find anything one could desire or imagine.

In each a chair. A rocky chair 'empty'. Rocking.

The throne of Satan.

*

To know is more than knowing, it is good

It is always good to experience of the cost of two sides of a coin.

Parsing away words like a carrot can eventually lead to starvation and hunger

A hunger for more.
*8

If you fear death than you are already full
If you try hard you are not yet hungry
If you feel pain and sorrow it means you are fat with the experience of joy and pleasure.

9
*97

If you laugh in the face of evil you are free from any hungers other than the stomach rumbling to God's laughter.

Regardless
*44744318-887*

Tonight for all weight classes
tonight is special.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Love it!

Regenerative. Restore. Rest.

A road made by giants for giants and walked upon by ants.

Perfection in the moods, feelings, interruptions.

Words truly cannot explain.
*

The pile of papers reached as high as was wanted. Placement of order where each piece felt important.

A think slice filled with world orders.

Planets randomly selected, (or so it seemed)

Thor is happy this morning and for good reason.

thinking thin? so fat the ambitions.

Cock engorged to bore through diamond plates of lies and deceptions
Sword used to spread butter upon fresh bread of those choosing peace

Open wide fanged defense as the claws grasp...

it continues... can you feel it beyond question

though the music deos tend to lure, subdue, and induce pleasure of a kind where there is no sex, no biological, nothing more than purely spiritual.
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

the following are words that derive from spontaneous thoughts. an exercise in the way a mind mumbles.
*

Do fairies watch fairy porn? Or do they sip tea out of buttercups. Moo. And then with a burst the strings spark into light as if an M1-Abrams storms a beach with munitions.

Ever notice how actors warm up before saying their lines? UmUmUm, potato, tomato, watermelon rind, racist.

Speaking of racist can a white man ever be reincarnated as a negro, a negro become Asian, an Asian accepted to Harvard?

1. Pizza is better when prepared fresh 2. Frozen pizza is better than twinkies unless the twinkies are frozen 3. If humans hate war than why are they always fighting? 4. Questions only lead to more questions, unless you already know the difference in preference between pizza and frozen twinkies.

And there it is. A slice of mind. A tiny, teeny, weeny, piece complete with musical sound, colored moving pictures.

I think this thread will now turn into something different.
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

This is fun. To find a place where writers are accepted without judgement or snobbery so many other arena's have, especially among the 'established' publishing houses.

It would be an interesting question to put forth to writers both published and as of yet, still unpublished.

Are those writers who write story after story, or 'the' story of their life... rejected endlessly only to give up hope and surrender to what 'it' is that publishers want. To compare their story to the successful published, the one who bend to publishing houses editors and people in charge.

I still hold true that for me at least I could care less what others think of what is written. Definitely could care less for what publishing houses have to say. Every rejection letter for the work I've submitted was proudly filed in the trash can.


If you're a writer do you absorb the advice and corrections to your passions of writing? Maybe that is good, maybe not. Everyone is different. Now, this is important, here I am a writer named, Robin B. Lipinski who is addicted to writing. Now compare my name to Isaac Asimov. The main difference is that in a few years no one will know Robin ever existed while Isaac will be remembered for a very long time. This is good because Asmov stories are fantastic whereas my stories are therapy for me, a selfish attitude to be sure but the reality is I would butt heads with anyone telling me to change my style, and THAT is definitely good.

Writing is a pleasure, a passion, a freedom, a joy, a pain. It is enlightning, stimulating, sad, happy. It is good...

For me the opinion is that for the human species music, writing, and the soul are the three most important qualities. Everything else falls into some kind of random order. Of course, food, science, fishing, and dogs are right near the top.Abortion, politics, religion wars, wars, gender identity confusion, are on the top of the list for the worst of the human species.

So, this ramble is actually aimed at those wanting to be writers, or are writers who have been rejected for so long they find it normal. It is also aimed at those writers who forget the passion of writing for the simple joy of it while embracing the fame and money aspect of those who are 'successful' in that regard. For me, I'd rather be dirt poor. A nobody writer. A writer scorned, hated or laughed at, or derided by every reader on Earth... as long as i get to write whatever it is that i want.

And so, a children's story. An innocent children story that could be read on Sesame Street.
*

Timmy the Tiny Mouse

Little Timmy was a tiny mouse.
He was an itsy bitsy teeny weeny little mouse.
His mother had five children. Each had a name.

There was Timmy, Tommy, Tony, Tum, and Tilly.
The mouse family was happy. They were happy because they lived in a shoe box. Life was good.

One day, Timmy was playing with Tommy, Tony, Tum and Tilly. They were playing tag outside the shoe box. The day was quickly coming to a close when overhead they heard a voice. Looking up, Timmy asked the strange creature sitting on a branch overhead, "What are you?"

"What am I? Ha! Little mouse, what is your name?"

"My name is Timmy," Timmy smiled. He was a happy little mouse.

"Well Timmy, I am an Owl."

"An owl? Is that like a mouse?"

The owl chuckled and smiling said, "Oh no Timmy, I'm a Owl old and wise. I know much about the world. That is one of the reasons I know you are a mouse."

Timmy thought the owl was exciting and fun to talk too so he asked the owl, "What is your name owl?"

With that, the Owl spread his wings and with a screech leapt from his branch down to grab Timmy with open claws. As Timmy screeched in fear his last thoughts were of what the owl replied, "My name is Milton and you Timmy are my meal as I'm a bit hungry."

The End
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Amusing to watch agent Barton play with fire. It is inspiring to see five cars go up in flames. A perfect metaphor for a country on fire and they don't even know it. So agent Barton, what would you do if you saw your beloved Caesar be stripped naked and pulled apart by forces with no visible identity? The answer is: There is nothing you can do when the hands of the clock strike. A world watching live what creatures with no souls can do merely for the reason they don't need... Interesting that no form of life on the planet is going to be spared from those winds. But, it is all fantasy. Pure fantasy... Agent Barton, keep cleaning your weapons, fuck/wine/and dine upon the spoils of your country. Laugh. It will give you something to remember as your lives flash before you die.

What is not fantasy is the fountain of youth. So many mortals dream and imagine a water of which then their body and as such, their mind can live either forever or at the least return to the health and vigor of their youth.
*

Fountain of Youth

Written by: Dust

His memories were made before he even lived them. For so long he had witnessed the birth of galaxies, their growth, and then their deaths that it became apparent the commonality was a constant. Every aspect of life known was left known to leave nothing unknown.

There are no regrets, no wasting away into nothing for there is nothing to return to or become.

Energy and matter.
Push and pull.
Gravity and none.

Heat so extremely pleasing to then plunge into the numbness of something so cold it freezes the passing of time.

There is nothing new or old for him.
God is there as it is needed.
Anger.
Hate.
Love.
Emotions mixed with moments as if the flavors would stimulate.

He is the Wind
A body uncatchable
Uncontrollable
Free,
and with him rides everything from everywhere,
particles of dust in the wind.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Music is the language of which both good and evil enjoy. A diplomacy of moments found and lost at the same time.
*

When she was a girl, her long hair was teased by the wind.
Striding through fields she dreamed.
Smiling with wonder and intelligence.
In her journal now, remembering.

She wonders and dreams still
Striding through a busy world
With wonder and intelligence,
her thoughts alive and carried with the wind.

It is good to feel the breeze and hear
Listen?
it is still there...
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Ramblings of a breeze.
*

Sand in an hour glass is held a slave to gravity and glass. A perfect representation of how humanity as a whole sees itself.

In days considered old there were old gods. A way to fill the hearts of sand trapped inside a glass container with something other than just life and death. A journey long and solid becoming old growing into new.

Hope was given to the people. A choice of their own making. No one forced them to choose between the old gods and the One God. It was made by the examples of so many. John the Baptist. Jesus. So many people who made a choice which others could be given an idea, an example, a way.

What has changed for humanity in the last few thousand years? Nothing. Nothing is the answer though there is one slight difference. No matter a humans faith in old gods or God or nothing but themselves, that being, Jesus is a name known on every square inch of this planet. A simple name for a simple man.

Old gods are an interesting lot. They exist for sure and they are tricksters. How do you think Mormons and Muslims came to be? God for sure did not 'create' such a comedy of errors. Does that make old gods evil? Ha! Humans and their choices of what is good and what is evil...

Transgenders are not evil. They do not believe in God. None of them do. They do however believe in the old gods.
Intellectuals. Professors. Those with a high functioning mind, as a group, they do not believe in God or gods. They only believe in their own intellect.

What does this mean? Nothing. Absolutely nothing as nothing has changed in the past couple of thousand years. Humans love to kill others in the name of so little and so much. Old gods are here having a ball. God is smiling. Evil is thriving. Goodness is as pure as the day it came into existence.

So what does that mean? What is it all about? Why? And for the other side of the coin... Fuck it. It just is. There is just today. I'm right and you're wrong.

i do enjoy walking among the worlds. God even puts me in a place some modern day parents call, 'time out'. Does not work though but God has to do it. it is fun to act like a squirmy three year old, just wait until four comes along...

Anyway, why write this? Because currently the world is becomming more and more polarized.The 'new' old ways of trying to understand God has been replaced with the merging of God with gods to the realm of pure hedonistic styles of living.

It is all great fun to observe and watch.

Now, throw in 'aliens' and talk about a great big shindig!

What do 'aliens' believe in? The exact same concepts as humans though with a different level of vibrations.

And to muddy the waters, there are species that are free from gods. There are some free from God. There is a lot for humanity to learn and learn it will...Sadly (in a way) humanity has to learn the old fashioned hard way. They will have to learn how to truly differentiate powers that are spiritual, magical, old gods, evil, and a whole lot of 'new' headache causing vibrations coming to Earth.

Humanity is in for a great ride. They have already taken off the safety belt, unlocked and opened the door to the speeding car, and for good measure, the brake lines have been cut~! WhooHoo! Now if that is not inspirational, i can't imagine what is.
*

Hello God

Written by: Yep, You guessed it.

Hello and a hearty thanks to you and yours.
You have given me and the worlds so much.
Warmth and kindness.
Food and clothes.
Love and generousity

There is no need to walk on water or raise the dead
There is no need for miracles or stories of the best
There is no need for raptures vengeance (mine sayeth the Lord)

It is so obvious it is every breath and every moment a person is alive.

God, you are da man for sure
Of this there is absolutely no doubt
and knowing you, the best is yet to come
when finally the people on this planet open their eyes to actually see for themselves
instead of being, stubborn
choosing to be blind.

"Hate to admit it moron."

Admit what parasite?

"You are actually correct about something."

Pisses you off does it?

"What do you think? Of course. You're actually a giant retard."
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Oh my... the music. She is mad at me and why? Why not. She knows she is and always will be, a part of me.
*

Now. Auctions. My great grandfather was an auctioneer. In the great state of, North Dakota, he owned a potato warehouse. He was rich. He auctioned off peoples belongings.

My father's father died while tending to a windmill. (the wind is indeed my friend but do not piss it off, or, if so inclined, play some fucking fantastic jokes. More on that later)

My father's father died as he fell from a windmill leaving him to be raised by a son-of-a-bitch rich guy. Anyway, my father had to walk the mainstreet on auction day and ring a bell announcing an auction. My father was shy, but he did it anyway.

One day. An auction day. A gilded mirror was being sold. My great grandfather did the, "And a $5.00. $5.00... Do I get a $5.50?"

"Sold! to that young man." My great grandfather hammered the gavel while looking directly at my father. My great grandfather 'sold' a gilded mirror with beveled glass to my father to $10.00. A huge sum back in the day. My father just about crapped his pants but soon learned he was being used as a schill. I take great pride in looking at that mirror and the bell my father rang.

Yesterday I purchased an entire lifetime collection of a dead rancher woman's doll collection. Over $10k of dolls plus a 1000 gallon fuel tank for $800.00

Writers... Look at your history and life for inspiration. If you need some extra inspiration, send me $1.00 and I'll give you so much weird inspiration you could write for a lifetime...

Now, since it is the Christmas Season. If you are reading this and are a writer, get off your ass and write! Write and smile, or, write and tell the world to go fuck itself!

If you are a reader and are wading through the shit i write, damn.... you are a beautiful person!

Merry Christmas!

May God kick you in the ass and you realize it is much better being human than a stupid monkey, (or a democrat, republican, communist, socialist, or vegetarian)
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Minions rock! Voodoo Ranger Juicy Haze IPA...Sucks!

And to Kentucky... WhooHoo!
*

So, do you fear death or more so, the pain associated with death?

Interesting that a female human will endure tremendous pain giving birth to a child and yet fear the chest pain of a heart attack leading to her bodies demise...

Self preservation. Pain. Immortality.

Jesus died, descended into hell and on the third day rose again from the grave. He is seated at the right hand of God.... Now he felt the pain of death. He did not like it.

Pain.... How interesting. A concept very familiar for humanity.

And so, the inspiration of pain.
*

The Boy Born without Pain

By: A weird little cricket

When he was born, he popped out of his mothers womb and fell on on the floor with a strange 'squishy' sound. He did not cry like his mother blubbering as if a stranded whale on a beach in New Zealand, blood and placenta all over the place. No sir/ma'am, he lay there and sighed his first sigh.

His name was a good one. His mother named him, bastard. A perfect name for the bastard child of a father I like to call, Asshole.

Asshole left Bastard's mother the day after he engaged in coitus with her under an apple tree. He was the typical asshole that inflicted a lot of pain for a lot of gullible women.

Going forward in time it became apparent that Bastard was an interesting boy. He was interesting in that he felt no pain. Ever. Not once in his life did he know what pain felt like.

You could slice his skin with a dull knife and he would look at you and then with a quick motion, slap you in the face and say, "You're a prick."

Fire. Cold. Punctures. Slices. Bee stings. Nothing caused him pain.And the opposite was that he felt no pleasure. All he felt was....nothing.

At first he looked and acted like a retard. The first day he tried to hold a pencil was a humorous day as that day his neighbor was watching him while visiting Bastard's mother (in the hope of getting laid) Watching Bastard pick up a pencil and try to write/draw something was the day the neighbor laughed and said, "He is a retard!"

One could feel sorry for Bastard. It was sad to see him fumble with feelings. While he could not feel pain he also could not experience the joy of an orgasm, or tasty food.

Bastard was alive and able to do so much yet no pain and no pleasures of the tingly nerves of flesh.

I supposed it could be a better story if one followed Bastard into the years of old age, but that is not to be.When bastard turned six, he was flattened by a falling tree after a wind storm.

After the tree squished his little body into a new form of dying flesh, his last words were, "Well, that sucked."

The End.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

There is a person named, Hillary Clinton. She is a female human nearer the end of her bodies allotted time than the beginning.

Anyway, apparently her opinions hold some sway over some readers. Lately she compared pro life folks to terrorists and rapists.

Boring topic. Murder. Abortion. Terrorists...

So, ever read something along the lines of, "When two or more are gathered in my name... I am there."

Mmm. Yeah! God said that.That is the main reason Hillary speaks so glowingly about abortion. If the baby is killed then there are not two (or more) In her mind she hates God, much like so many abortion loving humans.

Kill.
Kill.
Kill.
Kill.

Boring, the word kill. Make it spicy instead and say, "Choice. Mine. Me."

And so, the inspiration.

God is always there
One
Two
Three

(for fun one day, try sitting on the Eyelid of God and eat pocporn. What a rush!)
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Have you ever had to buy lingerie for a pumpkin parasite?

"Yes."

(silence. the parasite never buys anything. the parasite is a big purple mooch)

You have? When?

"I buy it all the time."

Why? A definitely the question is: For a pumpkin?

"Yep. What happens in the garden stays in the garden."

You're a sick puppy bucko...

"Are you finally figuring that out now.?"
*

:Lingerie For a Pumpkin:

Written by; A Large Cucumber

Oh soft glow, the moonlit orange
Stem rippling in the star bedded glimmers of passionate dew
Jack Frost, that eleven bastard
always making nipples hard.

It took a season to mature, to ripen from a buried seed
Sunlight and star
Wind and calm
Dressed green for the moment until
Fall.

Remember that morning of Jack's visit
Frost for the whores
Those frilly white veins trying to cover?

Snow now covers the land
Lingerie for so many pumpkins.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

If you're one who loves to feed a monster... Put on your bucket list a trip to Flathead lake during any Summer of your choosing.

In the lake resides an old beast kept young by the sexual sacrifices of humans.

It has lived a long time.

The energies released by human lust feeds it with enough energy to thrive. The peak moments for the monster are the hours between sunset and sunrise. i had a great discussion last night with the beast before traveling to a job. What a horn dog.
*

The Job

There are many planets existing with humanoid life. Each planet's species similar but with unique differences.

Interesting science development. Interesting politics. On last night's visit, the planet had a class of 'natural' humans and cloned humans.

Are clones individuals with rights? On the planet in question the answer is, yes and no. Yes, they have the right to exist to serve a need, and no, they exist to serve their masters.

Last night that changed. It occurred during a change of clone batches. Sneaky guardians were easy to put to sleep. Lazy fucks.

The energy put into the biometric locks were a bit tricky (DNA is complex if not arranged simply)

Once control of the ship was gained, the job was easy.

From this moment going forward, there will be a change for that planet. A war of identity. A change to their governing powers.

Five hundred years from now, there will be another adjustment.

(The ship was inspiring. Powered by a unique form of energy not encountered for a long time. It is a remnant from a lost science. ) Further study is needed.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Thor ate the sofa. Literally. Thor is suffering anxiety problems from his three kids.
Orf pissed on the floor. Twice. And he shit in his kennel.
Kanye talked shit about Jews.
Biden got the shit scared out him tomorrow morning. Literally.
Trump is acting his normal idiot self.
What does this all have in common? The answer is, inspiration.

One minute all is good, the next, reality of stupidity is revealed.

"Sounds like you numbnuts!"

Only in the arena of investing in something called, stock market. A person has to be an idiot to invest in America at the moment.

*

What Happened to America

Written by: Smoke Signals

America, land of the free, home of the brave...
until
women got the right to vote
men cut off their balls to please
children treated like best friends or pets.

America, where a teacher smashed your hand with a stick if your penmanship strayed
until
the children cried and told mommy and daddy
girls became boys
boys became girls
and teachers give idiots and slugs a pass.

America, military might to win any and all battles
until
lawyers decided what targets were allowed to be bombed or shielded
weight limits on physical prowess were lifted
God was banned
Men were no longer allowed to be men to smoke and sleep with hookers and beat the shit out of the enemy.

America, a place where anyone of any color could work hard and get ahead
until
BLM decided everyone is racist
Politicians cowered afraid
Affirmative action became law
Socialists and communists gained power
leaving the working man and woman alone in a hostile environment to either accept government aid
or die.

God bless America?
Why?
America hates God
America hates virtue and honor
America hates mothers and real women
America definitely hates real men
America hates me.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

and while i am at it... inspired by a very old idea, that being, love.
*

You have no idea what love is
No human can

For some, love is euphoria in their life for exactly. 1.75 seconds.
For others...
ah yes,
'others'
love is
eternal.
~
~
~
.
~.~

Please. Let me explain:

There are immortals. immortal so young they always receive
their first heart beat...

i've tested and played, (a confession) for a very loooong time. A time only she and i know and therein, the play.

Of course there is chess but so primitive? To have to shut down the intellect by over 99.9%?

Adapt.
Improvise.
Accept...

(ssssssmootch...)
(thud)
(grin)
(shit>..)

you have absolutely no idea, but she does.

So to you you immortal and 'forever'
i love you very
(what? too mushY? Okay.)
somewhat on a level between tasting sweet corn for the first time, to , you have absolutely nooooo idea. Wink10
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

and another thing.
*
The smells... It is the smellls that are the most pleasing.
and then
the taste.

A curse?
Some wold agree.

A blessing?
Indeed.

Level after lever
deep
deep
ever so below
another world creeps...

The more it goes apart
it binds ever more so
closeeeeer...
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

A woman in the news today took pails of human shit to a local sheriff office. Fifty pounds. So what is worse, a woman taking shit to the law or the law weighing it?

Inspirational the topic of shit and humans combined. Perfect in a shitty world.
*

Where do the problems stem; seed of origin?
Some religious scholars speak of original sin
Some in the medical profession speak of sick bodies and minds
Politicians love to point the blame

If there were not hormones or pheromones would love exist?
And if love exists why are we back the original question: Where do the problems stem?

Marty's daughter fucks homeless men who love ingesting heroin while telling the nice boy, "Thanks for giving me space."

Sam blows Jeff and Jeff rubs it in Glenn's face.

Oh my, so much drama from the children far removed from Adam and Eve's eyes.

Take for example, Mary, a woman living in a small shack in McCall
She tends bar and fucks men
No electricity.
No space.
Only one bed with Christmas lights festooned overhead with negative pregnancy tests hanging like tinsel.
Is this the worlds future?

Men fucking men
Women fucking women
Men fucking women while women fuck men
and children?
For some people they are never too young for the sexual things done.

Hello world.
A world filled with problems with more problems getting crammed in
A shit hole filled with shit
with only the reality that for as bad as this world is, God has not destroyed it...

This simple fact is the reason the world still spins
Waiting for the shit to finally compost
so the flowers can finally bloom with the air smelling sweet
and the problems for humanity will finally cease.

At least, that is what is real for me
Leaving all the rest alone as if a bad dream
God is good
The water of Life is better than the stink of death on any day
And there are dogs/puppies, cats/kittens, rabbits/bunnies...
There is the warmth of the sun, the laugh of a friend (few and far between)
Tasty food
and sleep...
ah yes...
such wonderful sleep filled with the best of dreams.
Lipinski
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Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

Post by Lipinski »

Tomorrow the inspiration is of smell. Lately there are strong smells in the air. A Dragon's scent.
*

Today however, the inspiration regards fasteners. On this world there are buttons made of plastic, bone, metal. There is Velcro and zippers. There are even such simple items used such as string.

So too on other planets. however, on one small planet the garb worn is fastened with something a bit different.
*

The Tunic

A description of clothing the absurd
Their limbs, translucent; ribbons of razor sharp hair.

A warrior,
of sorts; nearer a civilian trying to march with arrears.

There is no fabric spun of worm, plant, animal hair.
His skin was his to turn.

Hair so sharp and real, able to weave any tunic
Orders of status depending
colors and odors.

At the end of every follicle
an ability to join together
and merge.
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