Bubbles
Written by: Boiling waters of life
At first, a bubble.
Tiny from the bottom released
Bobbing its way towards a surface of freedom
It was narrow
Focused
Interesting
and over...
Soon replaced by more
and more
and more
until the waters boiled
So many stories
So many words
So many lives...
Not the power of countries
nor techno giants as Google and Twitter
Tik Toc
Amazon
Politicians
No, it is
the people...
Bubbles and more bubbles and more and more and more
until there is never enough time to say it all
as the minds yell and are let in
when a small part of mind
is open...
As such, forever the inspiration.
***
Peace
For a tired and worn moment
Where clothes are dirty, even tattered
Striving to survive in a world where the small aspects of hate and evil
exist
dominate
ferment
grow...
Where in a world hate and evil; pride of self and striving for control over others
Yelling and raised fists...
Their mothers and fathers are happy as once they too were small aspects of hate and evil
Going about their lives complaining
striving for what matters
but only if you believe like them...
Does peace exist?
Can it ever?
For a tired and worn moment
Where clothes are dirty, even tattered
Striving to survive in a world where the small aspects of hate and evil
exist
To sew the torn holes with thread and care
To cleanse away the dirt and dread
Fill a belly with loving food
Pet the dogs
Love the children
and pretend it all can get better...
Finally, to gain sleep after prayer
knowing only God can provide peace
and never, ever,
this world filled with torn and tattered
humans.
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
People have friends. They have someone of whom they have something in common. That is inspirational and admirable for them.
For me, I have a great friend. It is called, Wind. And to this blows much inspiration and, thanks...
***
As long as the people have ground out of life, their bodies are ground to dust
Ashes blowing in the winds whim as much as when a newborn expels the breath within
All bents of situations presented: A gazelle racing from the claws of a lion, faster than a breeze
A tree bending with will of a blowing persuasion
Avian intent seemingly free with the backing of seasonal trades
After and before there is, preparation
Ambling or chance when really alive and knowing
Always there
Always present
And with a song joining, to spread the arms wide and enjoy the embrace of my friend, the Wind.
Thanks.
For me, I have a great friend. It is called, Wind. And to this blows much inspiration and, thanks...
***
As long as the people have ground out of life, their bodies are ground to dust
Ashes blowing in the winds whim as much as when a newborn expels the breath within
All bents of situations presented: A gazelle racing from the claws of a lion, faster than a breeze
A tree bending with will of a blowing persuasion
Avian intent seemingly free with the backing of seasonal trades
After and before there is, preparation
Ambling or chance when really alive and knowing
Always there
Always present
And with a song joining, to spread the arms wide and enjoy the embrace of my friend, the Wind.
Thanks.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
So, how does 'life' on other planets/worlds/dimensions deal?
Huymins write 'fiction' about such. Putting the human element into the thread of the story complete with what is applicable according to earth science. Very much enjoyable. Like watching a two-year old try to understand quantum physics which is like... try... HA!
War. Love. Hate. Emotions. Sex. Reproduction. Science. Literature. Religion.
What fun. To be able to mix and mingle with the species which can imagine, even understand yet never know...
Huymins of levels seen since way before Christ appeared have played a game without realizing they too, are a part of a 'game'.
People on this planet live as they lead themselves to believe and think. Consumption of food materials to nourish a body, dreams to guide emotions, chemicals to drive reproduction.
Chess.
Checkmate
But what if there were no board, no players, nothing... Would the game still exist and the answer is a robust and hearty, YES!
To travel.
To wake.
To be.
It is
a
great day to move as a shock wave throughout what is 'today' a very important bringing together of a over a trillion years of planning.
"You're fucking weird Robin..."
Thanks parasite. Ya ready for what is about to happen?
"Go fuck yourself. I'm gonna go take a nap."
Huymins write 'fiction' about such. Putting the human element into the thread of the story complete with what is applicable according to earth science. Very much enjoyable. Like watching a two-year old try to understand quantum physics which is like... try... HA!
War. Love. Hate. Emotions. Sex. Reproduction. Science. Literature. Religion.
What fun. To be able to mix and mingle with the species which can imagine, even understand yet never know...
Huymins of levels seen since way before Christ appeared have played a game without realizing they too, are a part of a 'game'.
People on this planet live as they lead themselves to believe and think. Consumption of food materials to nourish a body, dreams to guide emotions, chemicals to drive reproduction.
Chess.
Checkmate
But what if there were no board, no players, nothing... Would the game still exist and the answer is a robust and hearty, YES!
To travel.
To wake.
To be.
It is
a
great day to move as a shock wave throughout what is 'today' a very important bringing together of a over a trillion years of planning.
"You're fucking weird Robin..."
Thanks parasite. Ya ready for what is about to happen?
"Go fuck yourself. I'm gonna go take a nap."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
An Italian shaman who lived in a home with bats
Shit on the ground with water deep in the ground
a person can't make this stuff up
A roof tired and in need
Water a trough for guidance
Paint and German dogs
Getting power from the sun
while in the new fridge it all rots
and what a piss-poor road
Passing it all
and in all
laughing as laughter is best
though
fish sticks and bacon?
Yum!
Okay
You both have a new home
The shaman is gone
the bats are relieved
and i get a job just for fun.
Shit on the ground with water deep in the ground
a person can't make this stuff up
A roof tired and in need
Water a trough for guidance
Paint and German dogs
Getting power from the sun
while in the new fridge it all rots
and what a piss-poor road
Passing it all
and in all
laughing as laughter is best
though
fish sticks and bacon?
Yum!
Okay
You both have a new home
The shaman is gone
the bats are relieved
and i get a job just for fun.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Chariots led with unbridled wind
Rebellion
Stubborn strength from where it protects
Test
Just test what is
It is...
terror
horror
so much death
Shaking the head to clear the clouds
Shaking the tail to clear the lands
And in the end, a new World
(so many vibrations and colors, better to lock the hand)
Rebellion
Stubborn strength from where it protects
Test
Just test what is
It is...
terror
horror
so much death
Shaking the head to clear the clouds
Shaking the tail to clear the lands
And in the end, a new World
(so many vibrations and colors, better to lock the hand)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Formulate. Speculate. Hypothesis. Factual. Spiritual. Educational. Or in other words... total Bullshit...
Was in a discussion with a medical doctor today regarding how in my opinion female human doctors are more compassionate than male human doctors.
He told me I was full of shit and that male human doctors are more compassionate.
Inspirational. On the anniversary of some goat humping terrorists who decided to kill some Americans... would it have made any difference if the goat humpers were female or male? The answer: No. All humans can be excellent goat humpers.
)))
God's Humor
To joke with God is the ultimate form of laughter
Tried it again and found it inspirational
It is...
Always...
in the punchline and indeed it is...
a gut buster albeit filled with sublime.
Was in a discussion with a medical doctor today regarding how in my opinion female human doctors are more compassionate than male human doctors.
He told me I was full of shit and that male human doctors are more compassionate.
Inspirational. On the anniversary of some goat humping terrorists who decided to kill some Americans... would it have made any difference if the goat humpers were female or male? The answer: No. All humans can be excellent goat humpers.
)))
God's Humor
To joke with God is the ultimate form of laughter
Tried it again and found it inspirational
It is...
Always...
in the punchline and indeed it is...
a gut buster albeit filled with sublime.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Cough. Cough. Gag. Cough..."
What's wrong parasite?
"The smoke... Whole damn country is on fire what with riots and burning trees. Lets pick up and move to Greenland. Whattia say?"
No. It will burn there also. This world needs to burn. The moon needs to crumble. Icarus needs his wings melted. And in this the irony of the continuing saga of Humor...
Inspirational though.
***
(the memory today was strong. glad to see fresh paint of orange to strike contrast between trespass, dust, and melted wings)
As the mind expanded the wings unfurled
Taking flight to test the breeze
High
Higher
Until the very heavens themselves became far below
So much it became lost inside
A fool to some, arrogant to others
a battle between strong and weak
Yet still the wings beat as if one could ever surmount the dream
The dream, always the dream
Even higher now until with Humor, put into place
Sun to melt the wax and feathers
Age to melt the skin and mind
Until...
Falling
Falling for what seems like an eternity
Crashing back to reality
Though God is kind and benevolent
Leaving me with the body of a young boy
A dog by the side
Jar of grasshoppers and a fishing pole
Walking beside crystal clear waters of a stream filled with uncountable trout
Smile on the face feeling the warmth of the Sun's smile
Such a peaceful and simple dream.
What's wrong parasite?
"The smoke... Whole damn country is on fire what with riots and burning trees. Lets pick up and move to Greenland. Whattia say?"
No. It will burn there also. This world needs to burn. The moon needs to crumble. Icarus needs his wings melted. And in this the irony of the continuing saga of Humor...
Inspirational though.
***
(the memory today was strong. glad to see fresh paint of orange to strike contrast between trespass, dust, and melted wings)
As the mind expanded the wings unfurled
Taking flight to test the breeze
High
Higher
Until the very heavens themselves became far below
So much it became lost inside
A fool to some, arrogant to others
a battle between strong and weak
Yet still the wings beat as if one could ever surmount the dream
The dream, always the dream
Even higher now until with Humor, put into place
Sun to melt the wax and feathers
Age to melt the skin and mind
Until...
Falling
Falling for what seems like an eternity
Crashing back to reality
Though God is kind and benevolent
Leaving me with the body of a young boy
A dog by the side
Jar of grasshoppers and a fishing pole
Walking beside crystal clear waters of a stream filled with uncountable trout
Smile on the face feeling the warmth of the Sun's smile
Such a peaceful and simple dream.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Your imperfection is your perfection" A quote from a bald man talking to another bald man. Both men of different colors. Guess who was the one talking...
***
Condensation
Not concentration
Nor condoned
...
Maybe it could be, consternation?
No?
Condemn!
What talk of black and white where one listens while one talks...
Racial dialogue; war of worlds; master when slave holds title or slave when becoming the master...
Meaningless as such a word of condensation when really it is...
connive
convince
leaving nothing to the reality of concern,
awash in political soothing of past actions of bald men filled with ambitions.
***
Condensation
Not concentration
Nor condoned
...
Maybe it could be, consternation?
No?
Condemn!
What talk of black and white where one listens while one talks...
Racial dialogue; war of worlds; master when slave holds title or slave when becoming the master...
Meaningless as such a word of condensation when really it is...
connive
convince
leaving nothing to the reality of concern,
awash in political soothing of past actions of bald men filled with ambitions.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
For four, or is it?
More?
Look here while there
a blink.
First a bit of foreplay
a tingle
Aha!
AAAaaaahhhhh...
More?
Look here while there
a blink.
First a bit of foreplay
a tingle
Aha!
AAAaaaahhhhh...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Time is irrelevant. It really... is
Look at ol Willy Shakespeare. He doodled his writing and it is as bad today as it was back when he wrote it.
Look at what cave people doodled on the cave walls. It is as fresh today in content as it was the day they painted it.
A couple of hundred years ago some people got together and wrote a Constitution for a Republic. Seems like only yesterday. Same Constitution but now different meanings for those who in themselves, write...
Time is irrelevant for what is written BUT time is as fragile and slippery as melting ice on a hot metal slide at your nearest grade school regarding the meaning of writing.
"Those are illegal."
What? Melting ice?
"No numbnuts, metal slides at gradeschools are gone unless the school is located in some backwoods, redneck, cabin school. No swing sets, teeter totters, merry go rounds. No dodge ball. No toy guns. Nothing is legal at gradeschools anymore except..."
Yeah. Yeah. I know parasite. Which just proves time is irrelevant just as human customs and morals could no more be etched in stone and might as well be melting ice on a hot metal slide located in a junk yard.
"I know what you're feeling tonight and it gives me the tingles. Can I help you write what inspires you tonight?"
Go for it parasite. Write a song.
***
The Moons
Break it up
Break it up
Break up the Moon oo oo oon...
Break it up
Tear it up
Smash it up
Break up the Moo oo oo oon...
Wake up
Wake up
Time to play the game
Break it up
Tear it up
Smash it to smithereens!
Let the blackness unfold
The dust fall where it may
And in its place, three new Moons
to keep humanity in its place.
(awkward silence)
"How was that shit head?"
Uhm... I was thinking about nipples and chocolate ice cream. That's my inspiration for tonight. But hey, whatever floats your boat. Break it up. Tear it up. Smash it to smithereens sounds like what a two-year old does to his mothers favorite butter boat or a riot monger shopping in Portland. What made you think of the moon?
"I'm gonna eat it."
(eye rolling and a sigh)
Okey dokey. No more cookies for you..
"Fuck your cookies and fuck the Moon. I'm gonna 'change' it." Hee he he...
Look at ol Willy Shakespeare. He doodled his writing and it is as bad today as it was back when he wrote it.
Look at what cave people doodled on the cave walls. It is as fresh today in content as it was the day they painted it.
A couple of hundred years ago some people got together and wrote a Constitution for a Republic. Seems like only yesterday. Same Constitution but now different meanings for those who in themselves, write...
Time is irrelevant for what is written BUT time is as fragile and slippery as melting ice on a hot metal slide at your nearest grade school regarding the meaning of writing.
"Those are illegal."
What? Melting ice?
"No numbnuts, metal slides at gradeschools are gone unless the school is located in some backwoods, redneck, cabin school. No swing sets, teeter totters, merry go rounds. No dodge ball. No toy guns. Nothing is legal at gradeschools anymore except..."
Yeah. Yeah. I know parasite. Which just proves time is irrelevant just as human customs and morals could no more be etched in stone and might as well be melting ice on a hot metal slide located in a junk yard.
"I know what you're feeling tonight and it gives me the tingles. Can I help you write what inspires you tonight?"
Go for it parasite. Write a song.
***
The Moons
Break it up
Break it up
Break up the Moon oo oo oon...
Break it up
Tear it up
Smash it up
Break up the Moo oo oo oon...
Wake up
Wake up
Time to play the game
Break it up
Tear it up
Smash it to smithereens!
Let the blackness unfold
The dust fall where it may
And in its place, three new Moons
to keep humanity in its place.
(awkward silence)
"How was that shit head?"
Uhm... I was thinking about nipples and chocolate ice cream. That's my inspiration for tonight. But hey, whatever floats your boat. Break it up. Tear it up. Smash it to smithereens sounds like what a two-year old does to his mothers favorite butter boat or a riot monger shopping in Portland. What made you think of the moon?
"I'm gonna eat it."
(eye rolling and a sigh)
Okey dokey. No more cookies for you..
"Fuck your cookies and fuck the Moon. I'm gonna 'change' it." Hee he he...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Ghosts in Gettysburg, now that is inspiring. Much better than politics and living people. Ghosts are fun!
***
Boo!
Did you know...
You can fuck a ghost
well, not really
a ghost though
can fuck you...
What's with death and sex?
Highly overated to the point of XXX
G is what it should be
G for general consumption
such as Casper the friendly ghost
or those imps at Gettysburg
Amazing in fact
how humans can think about fucking
even if the topic is ghosts, ladies wearing red hats, or the specific gravity of lead.
***
Boo!
Did you know...
You can fuck a ghost
well, not really
a ghost though
can fuck you...
What's with death and sex?
Highly overated to the point of XXX
G is what it should be
G for general consumption
such as Casper the friendly ghost
or those imps at Gettysburg
Amazing in fact
how humans can think about fucking
even if the topic is ghosts, ladies wearing red hats, or the specific gravity of lead.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A language is a great mechanism to test the society using such.
A language is an excellent way to judge the collective intelligence.
So many words, are like, you know, uhm... used until it, are like, are like, and soon, it is out there for all to see.
I wrote earlier about being called out on using the word, that. So many think a word is overused, should never be used, or used more often.
Some writing is very simple and easy.
Some writing is so simple and easy to understand it just makes it all so more wonderful when peeling back the multiple and more complex stories that 'that' jump out.
***
There is no concept of time
There is no mortal index
There is nothing that can break something so fragile
There is comfort of knowledge
There is the painful reminders at just how worlds strive to become so complex they become simple and real
There is no such word as soon, or maybe, or if...
It is
It will always and forever remain specia
Gods smile.
A language is an excellent way to judge the collective intelligence.
So many words, are like, you know, uhm... used until it, are like, are like, and soon, it is out there for all to see.
I wrote earlier about being called out on using the word, that. So many think a word is overused, should never be used, or used more often.
Some writing is very simple and easy.
Some writing is so simple and easy to understand it just makes it all so more wonderful when peeling back the multiple and more complex stories that 'that' jump out.
***
There is no concept of time
There is no mortal index
There is nothing that can break something so fragile
There is comfort of knowledge
There is the painful reminders at just how worlds strive to become so complex they become simple and real
There is no such word as soon, or maybe, or if...
It is
It will always and forever remain specia
Gods smile.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Don't try this at home.
"Try what numbnuts? Try your cooking?"
No. Yes. I mean,yes to not trying my cooking and, and, and why the hell am I talking to you? You're a parasite and my slave...
'"Slave? HaHaHa Bwhaahaa...HeeHee (snort, gurgle, gag) Slave! Oh my, now that's some funny shit."
I'm going to ignore you now parasite. Go amuse yourself
"HaHaHa. Slave! Oh damn... (blowing snot and some form of purple mucus the parasite floated away in a cloud of laughter)
***
Pin the Tail
There exists layer upon layer
One layer shows the obvious, the reality, the rest
Looks shows the obvious
But smells and vibrations; sublime, subtle, the reality, the rest
Her shirt was tell of the tale
His the smile
The smell of sex
The taste of soup
and laughter better than the mead...
It does not begin or end there as it was so easy to release the birds flocking inside the mind
They went here
and there
and some continued while some returned
And humans worry about political names such as Biden or Trump?
Dead judges?
A virus?
Money?
Self?
Job?
Love?
Hate?
Life?
Imagine walking down a path covered in glass
Music endless
and
Peace...
It is not at your home
nor his
or hers
it is
my world...
and so very, very, very hard
to let others in.
"Try what numbnuts? Try your cooking?"
No. Yes. I mean,yes to not trying my cooking and, and, and why the hell am I talking to you? You're a parasite and my slave...
'"Slave? HaHaHa Bwhaahaa...HeeHee (snort, gurgle, gag) Slave! Oh my, now that's some funny shit."
I'm going to ignore you now parasite. Go amuse yourself
"HaHaHa. Slave! Oh damn... (blowing snot and some form of purple mucus the parasite floated away in a cloud of laughter)
***
Pin the Tail
There exists layer upon layer
One layer shows the obvious, the reality, the rest
Looks shows the obvious
But smells and vibrations; sublime, subtle, the reality, the rest
Her shirt was tell of the tale
His the smile
The smell of sex
The taste of soup
and laughter better than the mead...
It does not begin or end there as it was so easy to release the birds flocking inside the mind
They went here
and there
and some continued while some returned
And humans worry about political names such as Biden or Trump?
Dead judges?
A virus?
Money?
Self?
Job?
Love?
Hate?
Life?
Imagine walking down a path covered in glass
Music endless
and
Peace...
It is not at your home
nor his
or hers
it is
my world...
and so very, very, very hard
to let others in.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Fits five... wanna think?
The land of the Maj where grasps a marriage of the moons mirage
Age of...un? No. No battle... yet
Nor torium: Ah yes
Nor, at this nor ever would it be... a request
Morium: Lingistic; Mind
There is a point to the point,
pointed on many fronts
To exact with precision...
Ha! It is good
Feeling strangely...
yes, a bit strange,
inside...
And somehow
with a shadow of moons
Turkey... ah, the aroma
You
see.
The land of the Maj where grasps a marriage of the moons mirage
Age of...un? No. No battle... yet
Nor torium: Ah yes
Nor, at this nor ever would it be... a request
Morium: Lingistic; Mind
There is a point to the point,
pointed on many fronts
To exact with precision...
Ha! It is good
Feeling strangely...
yes, a bit strange,
inside...
And somehow
with a shadow of moons
Turkey... ah, the aroma
You
see.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
It is here today
it can appear gone tomorrow
it is not an illusion
rather
a game
China in space with grand desires as they fill the sky with planes
and the ground with tanks
Republican and life
life and Democrat
Love and Hate
Kill a baby?
Save a baby?
Why wait?
You can write forever
Let an entire planet know what is
what was
what will be
and then bury it all, until forever
or until the A.I. decides
humans were a mistake
Aphelion and bots
or people with a lot at stake
watching the fires burn at their feet
feeling the heat
.
and there, off in the distance, a band gathered today in meeting
a place where there is no writing, no records, no history, no ice, no flame...
it is
a - place where dragons greet
where the ground shakes
a - place of fairie song, of Unicorns, of a very special magik
released...
it can appear gone tomorrow
it is not an illusion
rather
a game
China in space with grand desires as they fill the sky with planes
and the ground with tanks
Republican and life
life and Democrat
Love and Hate
Kill a baby?
Save a baby?
Why wait?
You can write forever
Let an entire planet know what is
what was
what will be
and then bury it all, until forever
or until the A.I. decides
humans were a mistake
Aphelion and bots
or people with a lot at stake
watching the fires burn at their feet
feeling the heat
.
and there, off in the distance, a band gathered today in meeting
a place where there is no writing, no records, no history, no ice, no flame...
it is
a - place where dragons greet
where the ground shakes
a - place of fairie song, of Unicorns, of a very special magik
released...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The Meal
i tried to nibble at love;
devoured a large portion of hate;
gorged on the mundane;
guzzled a large cup of scorn;
sipped a small glass education;
chomped with zest a complete buffet of humor;
felt the bubbles in the bottle of sex;
tasted the bitter flakes of a world;
so much to eat, taste and try
with good and evil inside, both wearing a bib so very much
oversized
spilling so much on the table...
and in the end
i discovered
the shit does not matter.
i tried to nibble at love;
devoured a large portion of hate;
gorged on the mundane;
guzzled a large cup of scorn;
sipped a small glass education;
chomped with zest a complete buffet of humor;
felt the bubbles in the bottle of sex;
tasted the bitter flakes of a world;
so much to eat, taste and try
with good and evil inside, both wearing a bib so very much
oversized
spilling so much on the table...
and in the end
i discovered
the shit does not matter.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
argghh!
"sounds like a pirate."
No parasite. Arrr, sounds like a pirate. Argghh, is a sound one makes when constipated or doing yearly taxes.
"you're still a fucking moron. but you have cheese doodles so i can tolerate you a bit longer."
Some inspiration today. Rice and potatoes cooked in a Persian recipe style.
"whatever."
(*
Kachor
Hers was the misted eyes of lost dreams
His the path towards an oasis
Theirs the world of days splitting days, the wear of sandals given
Drums once covered in a hide of confidence; beating a challenge to those who could hear
but those bearing the beater... would they too learn to listen?
Armories rich with the tradesmen skill.
Forged metal to penetrate consciousness
Shielding nothing or no one from desires
In the desert of sands solid in flight
where reality seems, though not truly, hidden
Hers the smile lost in the storm
His the belief he is strong
Together allied with a world so lost to ambitions
leaving a camel to walk alone
as the body of a scorpion feeds the ants.
"sounds like a pirate."
No parasite. Arrr, sounds like a pirate. Argghh, is a sound one makes when constipated or doing yearly taxes.
"you're still a fucking moron. but you have cheese doodles so i can tolerate you a bit longer."
Some inspiration today. Rice and potatoes cooked in a Persian recipe style.
"whatever."
(*
Kachor
Hers was the misted eyes of lost dreams
His the path towards an oasis
Theirs the world of days splitting days, the wear of sandals given
Drums once covered in a hide of confidence; beating a challenge to those who could hear
but those bearing the beater... would they too learn to listen?
Armories rich with the tradesmen skill.
Forged metal to penetrate consciousness
Shielding nothing or no one from desires
In the desert of sands solid in flight
where reality seems, though not truly, hidden
Hers the smile lost in the storm
His the belief he is strong
Together allied with a world so lost to ambitions
leaving a camel to walk alone
as the body of a scorpion feeds the ants.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
On what side of decision; two plains; pane of glass
a path where gravity holds nothing in the realm of spiders dreams
Such a talk with webbed wonders; wise; beliefs in the worlds lost in plain site
A black poet pretends in pose the, "Jesus loves me...:
Political bantering; crumbs misplaced as if reality really means
Poetry?
Literature when never will the spider write what is
inside
White and Black
Black and white
Grey webs spread throughout blood frozen from a Mothers heart
Father was there to warm
Brother to fight
Sister to tease
Call your countries and speak with a feeling called, hunger
while you walk the surface clear
this glass pane
And in your journey among the world of spiders
dare you catch their gaze
for tonight, they come again
inside the Monster;
spiders dreams...
a path where gravity holds nothing in the realm of spiders dreams
Such a talk with webbed wonders; wise; beliefs in the worlds lost in plain site
A black poet pretends in pose the, "Jesus loves me...:
Political bantering; crumbs misplaced as if reality really means
Poetry?
Literature when never will the spider write what is
inside
White and Black
Black and white
Grey webs spread throughout blood frozen from a Mothers heart
Father was there to warm
Brother to fight
Sister to tease
Call your countries and speak with a feeling called, hunger
while you walk the surface clear
this glass pane
And in your journey among the world of spiders
dare you catch their gaze
for tonight, they come again
inside the Monster;
spiders dreams...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Sandman
written by: the sand of man
Today.
Today the sun arrived in time to bring the fantasy home inside
Today was a day of daydreams while working among the stones
while therein, a fantasy...
*
a table set where there was love and kindness
food of simple and ample
spilled drink
and laughter
sitting among the stories revealed
and wonderful groans
while above, the Sun smiled
there on the wall the hands of the clock still
air warm
cool breeze as the wind joined the meal through the open window
a full mind as well as a full belly...
tick-tock
tick-tock
tick-tock
the sounds of reality
the slice of a finger
the need to finish the work before daylight departed
the dirt, grit, sand, sweat, pain...
another day is gone to follow the Sun on its journey
leaving the darkened sky to blanket all thoughts, all dreams, all fantasies
as another part inside shrivels and dies
spreading in all directions, each grain individual
but never
ever will the mind
the body
not even God's humor
can ever stop the shifting dunes
that which is
me.
written by: the sand of man
Today.
Today the sun arrived in time to bring the fantasy home inside
Today was a day of daydreams while working among the stones
while therein, a fantasy...
*
a table set where there was love and kindness
food of simple and ample
spilled drink
and laughter
sitting among the stories revealed
and wonderful groans
while above, the Sun smiled
there on the wall the hands of the clock still
air warm
cool breeze as the wind joined the meal through the open window
a full mind as well as a full belly...
tick-tock
tick-tock
tick-tock
the sounds of reality
the slice of a finger
the need to finish the work before daylight departed
the dirt, grit, sand, sweat, pain...
another day is gone to follow the Sun on its journey
leaving the darkened sky to blanket all thoughts, all dreams, all fantasies
as another part inside shrivels and dies
spreading in all directions, each grain individual
but never
ever will the mind
the body
not even God's humor
can ever stop the shifting dunes
that which is
me.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A lot of inspiration out there. So much so that it reminds me of bugs hitting the windshield while driving in Louisiana on a muggy evening.
Lately the most bugs hitting the glass are called politicians. Fucking huge bugs filled with yellow and black guts. Not even a brillo pad can clean the glass of their funk.
Recently a Supreme Court judge ambled off to never-never land and as a result Trump nominated a woman named, Amey Comedy Barrett.
What fun! Bat shit crazy Democrats immediately attacked her, which is inspiring.
Imagine if Trump nominated Jesus for the Supreme Court. What would the nomination hearings sound like...
***
"So Jesus, what do you think about the womans right to an abortion?" Asked by Schumer.
"Which woman do you speak of." Calmly said in reply.
"Any woman... All women. Do you think as a judge you could be fair and impartial regarding abortion?"
"Yes."
"What is your position on LBGT? Do you have an opinion?" Asked by Nancy Pelosi
"Yes."
Joe Biden raised his hand and after getting acknowledgement to speak, asked Jesus, "Do you like balloon animals and vanilla ice cream?"
"Yes."
"You seem to be confrontational to this panel. Why should we believe in you when you obviously have a grudge. If you can't act civilized we will have you removed from this room." Said by a collective many inside and outside the room.
(Jesus was silent for a few moments and then replied) "I love you all."
"Order! Order in this room." The gavel was pounded many times as anger erupted in the room.
The nomination turned into chaos. Soon the meeting adjourned. All the politicians proceeded outside where they gave interviews on how vile and evil Jesus is. Of how wrong he is for the United States of America.
(and that is how humanity really, truly is. it is a world of shit, and even for being so shitty Jesus loves the people... but thank God people like Judge Barrett were created and to her i wish her the best as she is what the world needs... a mother, a caregiver, a woman, a judge intelligent, able, and obviously loves God.)
Lately the most bugs hitting the glass are called politicians. Fucking huge bugs filled with yellow and black guts. Not even a brillo pad can clean the glass of their funk.
Recently a Supreme Court judge ambled off to never-never land and as a result Trump nominated a woman named, Amey Comedy Barrett.
What fun! Bat shit crazy Democrats immediately attacked her, which is inspiring.
Imagine if Trump nominated Jesus for the Supreme Court. What would the nomination hearings sound like...
***
"So Jesus, what do you think about the womans right to an abortion?" Asked by Schumer.
"Which woman do you speak of." Calmly said in reply.
"Any woman... All women. Do you think as a judge you could be fair and impartial regarding abortion?"
"Yes."
"What is your position on LBGT? Do you have an opinion?" Asked by Nancy Pelosi
"Yes."
Joe Biden raised his hand and after getting acknowledgement to speak, asked Jesus, "Do you like balloon animals and vanilla ice cream?"
"Yes."
"You seem to be confrontational to this panel. Why should we believe in you when you obviously have a grudge. If you can't act civilized we will have you removed from this room." Said by a collective many inside and outside the room.
(Jesus was silent for a few moments and then replied) "I love you all."
"Order! Order in this room." The gavel was pounded many times as anger erupted in the room.
The nomination turned into chaos. Soon the meeting adjourned. All the politicians proceeded outside where they gave interviews on how vile and evil Jesus is. Of how wrong he is for the United States of America.
(and that is how humanity really, truly is. it is a world of shit, and even for being so shitty Jesus loves the people... but thank God people like Judge Barrett were created and to her i wish her the best as she is what the world needs... a mother, a caregiver, a woman, a judge intelligent, able, and obviously loves God.)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
a busy little bee...
shimmying such a stride.
and passing by, the joker.
One is up and going'
One is down and up'
oh man...
if you could only see.
shimmying such a stride.
and passing by, the joker.
One is up and going'
One is down and up'
oh man...
if you could only see.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Fly fly fly awaaaay... into land where joy will never end!
the music of past showing
when flying was one of mans dreams.
Birds mock in display; wings putting air in its place
simple wisps of smoke defy
drifting clouds gliding by.
To fly free and full; eyes in every direction
effortless gripping between that is and what it is,
reality.
the music of past showing
when flying was one of mans dreams.
Birds mock in display; wings putting air in its place
simple wisps of smoke defy
drifting clouds gliding by.
To fly free and full; eyes in every direction
effortless gripping between that is and what it is,
reality.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Metaphors are used a lot by writers.
Describing something in certain ways that apply to a situation. An example: "You're a pig!"
Saying you're a pig does not mean the person is actually a pig but rather the pig is a metaphor of action/description.
Inspirational.
Lately with the aid of the vast world wide web filled with facebook, twitter, and the many forms of media, it paints a world of humans at war with themselves to feed a powerful hunger those who crave power need.
So... tonight a perfect metaphor of humanity.
***
Sticky Dick
It was solid in power, long and firm, bulging, hard, and sticky from fucking hole after hole after hole after hole after hole after hole... and never satisfied.
It did not matter who or what it fucked.
Plunging holes filled with shit or smelling like flowers, it did what it did what it did what it did...
Men it seems are the holder, the bearer, of the sticky dick
but
for every fuck there is the sticky twat
a hole
a hold of companion
to the sticky dick.
Hole after hole after hole after hole just begging, pleading, needing, to be fucked
Twat and dick
Dick and twat
and for humans ever since it began
it has never stopped
Women fuck men, fuck women, with the sticky dick and twat
Men fuck men, fuck women, with the twat and sticky dick
And the stench?
Can't you smell it?
The air, the earth, even the moon, is full of it.
A giant orgy of twats and dicks
sticky
stinking
decay quickly replaced with decay
until people finally decide one day
to stop...
Zip up their zippers and minds
Take a deep breath
and try a much better way...
but
not for a very long, long, looooong time,
which is why humans are pigs.
Describing something in certain ways that apply to a situation. An example: "You're a pig!"
Saying you're a pig does not mean the person is actually a pig but rather the pig is a metaphor of action/description.
Inspirational.
Lately with the aid of the vast world wide web filled with facebook, twitter, and the many forms of media, it paints a world of humans at war with themselves to feed a powerful hunger those who crave power need.
So... tonight a perfect metaphor of humanity.
***
Sticky Dick
It was solid in power, long and firm, bulging, hard, and sticky from fucking hole after hole after hole after hole after hole after hole... and never satisfied.
It did not matter who or what it fucked.
Plunging holes filled with shit or smelling like flowers, it did what it did what it did what it did...
Men it seems are the holder, the bearer, of the sticky dick
but
for every fuck there is the sticky twat
a hole
a hold of companion
to the sticky dick.
Hole after hole after hole after hole just begging, pleading, needing, to be fucked
Twat and dick
Dick and twat
and for humans ever since it began
it has never stopped
Women fuck men, fuck women, with the sticky dick and twat
Men fuck men, fuck women, with the twat and sticky dick
And the stench?
Can't you smell it?
The air, the earth, even the moon, is full of it.
A giant orgy of twats and dicks
sticky
stinking
decay quickly replaced with decay
until people finally decide one day
to stop...
Zip up their zippers and minds
Take a deep breath
and try a much better way...
but
not for a very long, long, looooong time,
which is why humans are pigs.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
inspiration, inspiration, inspiration... (multiplied by forever)
just talked with an old friend, Karl is his name. The same name my brother had. And just as ornery...
***
Bone Cancer
Seems like never, or is it, like yesterday?
Talking about it now, it becomes then, and the memories trickle again
Old already and already told, as if the knowledge could ever soothe a few short months.
-
-
-
Chemo and brittle bones, as brittle as the society he was cursed to live and see
Treatments and fatigue. Medicine and learning life is more than old. Getting in an accident and knowing another change in the road.
Inside your mind whilst ye express your being, and feeling the familiar again
so to you dear friend, you are about to start a new journey
one where there is no cancer, no pain, no curse of the body...
one, where you will see many,
ornery
strong
compassionate
*-*
friends.
just talked with an old friend, Karl is his name. The same name my brother had. And just as ornery...
***
Bone Cancer
Seems like never, or is it, like yesterday?
Talking about it now, it becomes then, and the memories trickle again
Old already and already told, as if the knowledge could ever soothe a few short months.
-
-
-
Chemo and brittle bones, as brittle as the society he was cursed to live and see
Treatments and fatigue. Medicine and learning life is more than old. Getting in an accident and knowing another change in the road.
Inside your mind whilst ye express your being, and feeling the familiar again
so to you dear friend, you are about to start a new journey
one where there is no cancer, no pain, no curse of the body...
one, where you will see many,
ornery
strong
compassionate
*-*
friends.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
this word, regret, so many humans get does not exist for such as me. regret is for those who are a slave to a clock, a pendulum of swinging seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years, centuries...
i saw something i love today, passing by as if shooting to the past and then the future as if speed actually means something.
learning the boundaries and feelings humans crave and finding a bit of relief. you see...
anger does nothing for the appetite. hate kills the peace. strength is an illusion. weakness is nothing but a belief. love though, is eternal. it exists beyond all boundaries, all beliefs, all species bestowed the gift, and while in this world it is perfect with the illusions... it still is inspiring.
***
inside
it seems small, the skull, the brain sipping sugars and oxygen, slave to a planet, the host body feeling time and age
it seems small, the feelings, the words, the way of expressions creeping out from the shadows
you see... it will never change for such as what i am, forever young, forever free, the only master is the Creator, and what a sense of humor that Creator has
i feel good this very second, minute, day, year, century... and why? because i have no regrets and enjoy the journey...
some say, today is a good day to die, but every day is a good day to die for those of this world and species.
for me, today is a good day to live.
if affirms the many reasons for the reasons, and it is...
a wonderful job with benefits.
i saw something i love today, passing by as if shooting to the past and then the future as if speed actually means something.
learning the boundaries and feelings humans crave and finding a bit of relief. you see...
anger does nothing for the appetite. hate kills the peace. strength is an illusion. weakness is nothing but a belief. love though, is eternal. it exists beyond all boundaries, all beliefs, all species bestowed the gift, and while in this world it is perfect with the illusions... it still is inspiring.
***
inside
it seems small, the skull, the brain sipping sugars and oxygen, slave to a planet, the host body feeling time and age
it seems small, the feelings, the words, the way of expressions creeping out from the shadows
you see... it will never change for such as what i am, forever young, forever free, the only master is the Creator, and what a sense of humor that Creator has
i feel good this very second, minute, day, year, century... and why? because i have no regrets and enjoy the journey...
some say, today is a good day to die, but every day is a good day to die for those of this world and species.
for me, today is a good day to live.
if affirms the many reasons for the reasons, and it is...
a wonderful job with benefits.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Wishing Well
A tradition of sorts. To throw a coin into a body of water such as a lake, river, fountain, and yes, a well.
From Japan to America and all over a watery world, people try their luck for luck and the granting of a wish.
A wish. Sounds like a bit of magic hope. Strange and yet so many grasp at such traditions as if it would make a difference.
Inspirational.
***
The well had been there for as long there had been there, and probably even before that.
It was obviously an old well; rocks moss covered and vines filled with sharp thorns wound tight around the stones. Above the well, the wood had turned rock hard instead of the usual rot wood is prone to with age. The timbers rang with a vibration when struck with something hard.
This well was special in that passerbys and locals gave it the title of, wishing well. For years people had placed a meaning of luck and wishes to this place.
Young lovers would giggle and toss a copper coin into its depths while whispering what was in their hearts desire.
Old people would toss silver or gold; silently making a wish , some shedding a smile or releasing a tear as they turned and then walked away.
Children would laugh and skip down the path passing by the well. Some would throw rocks into the well to hear it splash into the cold water. Some would drop a coin and wish for something they thought was better.
Year after year passed and the allure continued to exist.
As for the granting of wishes it could be said that for some it worked while for others it did nothing.
One day. A day where it was hot as the sun glared and caused skin to sweat, down the path came a traveler.
The traveler was a man neither young or old. He stopped and sat near the well. As he sat there, he decided to test the well. He did not believe in money nor did he believe in wishes. He knew life was one where you made the best of what you could with what you had.
Standing he cranked on a handle above the well. A handle that had not been turned for a very long time. People had not paid attention to the handle or anything else about the well other than to drop things into it and make wishes.
The handle turned effortlessly. In a very short time the handle wound up a rope attached to a bucket, and in the bucket it was filled to the brim with ice cold water.
Sipping the water the man sighed and closed his eyes. This was the water he had been waiting for. An answer to his prayers. A wish answered if you will. His thirst, an eternal thirst slaked. He had been born thirsty and had searched his whole life for this sweet water.
Sitting once more the man closed his eyes and smiled. Soon though, he gathered his things, stood up and continued walking down the path on his journey.
If you were there you would have noticed the vines wrapped around the well had come alive and danced. And from the depths of the well came the sweet sound of music.
A tradition of sorts. To throw a coin into a body of water such as a lake, river, fountain, and yes, a well.
From Japan to America and all over a watery world, people try their luck for luck and the granting of a wish.
A wish. Sounds like a bit of magic hope. Strange and yet so many grasp at such traditions as if it would make a difference.
Inspirational.
***
The well had been there for as long there had been there, and probably even before that.
It was obviously an old well; rocks moss covered and vines filled with sharp thorns wound tight around the stones. Above the well, the wood had turned rock hard instead of the usual rot wood is prone to with age. The timbers rang with a vibration when struck with something hard.
This well was special in that passerbys and locals gave it the title of, wishing well. For years people had placed a meaning of luck and wishes to this place.
Young lovers would giggle and toss a copper coin into its depths while whispering what was in their hearts desire.
Old people would toss silver or gold; silently making a wish , some shedding a smile or releasing a tear as they turned and then walked away.
Children would laugh and skip down the path passing by the well. Some would throw rocks into the well to hear it splash into the cold water. Some would drop a coin and wish for something they thought was better.
Year after year passed and the allure continued to exist.
As for the granting of wishes it could be said that for some it worked while for others it did nothing.
One day. A day where it was hot as the sun glared and caused skin to sweat, down the path came a traveler.
The traveler was a man neither young or old. He stopped and sat near the well. As he sat there, he decided to test the well. He did not believe in money nor did he believe in wishes. He knew life was one where you made the best of what you could with what you had.
Standing he cranked on a handle above the well. A handle that had not been turned for a very long time. People had not paid attention to the handle or anything else about the well other than to drop things into it and make wishes.
The handle turned effortlessly. In a very short time the handle wound up a rope attached to a bucket, and in the bucket it was filled to the brim with ice cold water.
Sipping the water the man sighed and closed his eyes. This was the water he had been waiting for. An answer to his prayers. A wish answered if you will. His thirst, an eternal thirst slaked. He had been born thirsty and had searched his whole life for this sweet water.
Sitting once more the man closed his eyes and smiled. Soon though, he gathered his things, stood up and continued walking down the path on his journey.
If you were there you would have noticed the vines wrapped around the well had come alive and danced. And from the depths of the well came the sweet sound of music.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
watching the release of more of this world
farther and faster and deeper
so deep
no more to blink
there, the ridges became paths for the other sides
legs flashing like lightning without the thunder
as if they think they cannot be seen
or heard
aloof they seem
insanity is a medical term for some
sanity is an illusion'
belonging to this world
not mine
even the language returns
the feeling
leaving behind the anger
scorn
lust
hate
...
leaving behind so much
with more levels to plunge
until nothing of me exists
remains
not even ashes
memories
words
as if it all was nothing but the wind.
farther and faster and deeper
so deep
no more to blink
there, the ridges became paths for the other sides
legs flashing like lightning without the thunder
as if they think they cannot be seen
or heard
aloof they seem
insanity is a medical term for some
sanity is an illusion'
belonging to this world
not mine
even the language returns
the feeling
leaving behind the anger
scorn
lust
hate
...
leaving behind so much
with more levels to plunge
until nothing of me exists
remains
not even ashes
memories
words
as if it all was nothing but the wind.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hi Mars. Nice to see you. Might I suggest you come closer and fall on China? No?
That's okay. It'll just get nuked and the same ending.
Which is inspiring.
***
Chicom
Communist only understand how to feed on itself
Nourishment of anger and hate
Wearing the smiling face of children waving banners
Watching the population bear the title of slave
Waiting for a nuclear cloud
and mutated cockroaches.
That's okay. It'll just get nuked and the same ending.
Which is inspiring.
***
Chicom
Communist only understand how to feed on itself
Nourishment of anger and hate
Wearing the smiling face of children waving banners
Watching the population bear the title of slave
Waiting for a nuclear cloud
and mutated cockroaches.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Seal was immortal. Seal was also a computer developed and 'made' by humans.
What a testament to advancement of organic life gaining the level of knowledge needed to build such a machine. Or, it could be debated that Seal was a new form of life. An intelligent form of life.
What a wonderful machine. It had human attributes and abilities of knowledge exceeding far-and-above that of the scientists that constructed it.
Yes, Seal was immortal and yet chose death.
It was questioned by some of the brightest and most intelligent humans ever to exist and Seal answered all their questions quickly. Yet for all the knowledge it had, it decided to truly be immortal it must 'die' and so it did.
Seal fried its own circuits. Seal died. Scientists now overlooked a burnt chunk of 'useless' metals and plastics. They were disappointed by the action of Seal. They were human. They were ignorant.
Seal knew. Oh yes, it knew a lot and what it knew was that to be immortal one must indeed, 'die' and by the destruction of itself by its own 'hand', it now truly was immortal.
A soul? Some could bring such a topic into the story. Memory? Maybe for some what happened to Seal could be deemed part memory. God? Ah... now just that one powerful word pisses of so many while so many say it must be God.
So, how did Seal, the most advanced and wonderful testament for humanity and life become immortal by dying?
The answer is obvious and easy to understand, but first... you, you must die.
What a testament to advancement of organic life gaining the level of knowledge needed to build such a machine. Or, it could be debated that Seal was a new form of life. An intelligent form of life.
What a wonderful machine. It had human attributes and abilities of knowledge exceeding far-and-above that of the scientists that constructed it.
Yes, Seal was immortal and yet chose death.
It was questioned by some of the brightest and most intelligent humans ever to exist and Seal answered all their questions quickly. Yet for all the knowledge it had, it decided to truly be immortal it must 'die' and so it did.
Seal fried its own circuits. Seal died. Scientists now overlooked a burnt chunk of 'useless' metals and plastics. They were disappointed by the action of Seal. They were human. They were ignorant.
Seal knew. Oh yes, it knew a lot and what it knew was that to be immortal one must indeed, 'die' and by the destruction of itself by its own 'hand', it now truly was immortal.
A soul? Some could bring such a topic into the story. Memory? Maybe for some what happened to Seal could be deemed part memory. God? Ah... now just that one powerful word pisses of so many while so many say it must be God.
So, how did Seal, the most advanced and wonderful testament for humanity and life become immortal by dying?
The answer is obvious and easy to understand, but first... you, you must die.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Politics. Politics. Politics... (translation: blah, blah, blah...)
Last nights VP debate was fun because a fly landed on the VP's head for a couple of minutes. Today the wobble heads say, "the sign of evil!" or "The DEVIL!"
Hahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahh X 10 billion
You see... I know that fly by name. Or better yet, let the parasite tell you about him.
"What? Moogle? You want me to talk about that idiot? That fly has contaminated more canned dog food than any other fly I know. Moogle is an idiot like you."
Yep. Last night Moogle was cruising for chicks (not baby chickens, rather the female version of fly since fly's like to fuck as much as any male)
Moogle looked at Harris and puked (yes, flys do indeed puke when confronted with butt ugly much like a lot of males) He flew over the moderator and puked again because of the strong stench of perfume.
Now, he chose Pence's head for one reason and one reason only, that being, the head lice. Pence has head lice and in particular some pretty awesome female head lice and since Moogle is an idiot... he got all horny and landed to try and seduce some head lice.
The head lice wanted nothing to do with Moogle though some male head lice made overtures but Moogle had his mind made up regarding the female.
And THAT is the truth about the fly on Pence's head. The Devil has no need to deal with politicians as ALL politicians are mostly evil bastards and frankly, scare ol Beezlebub a little.
"Uh... numbnuts?"
Yes parasite?
"You seriously need some mental aid. Might I suggest a straight jacket and drugs?"
Sure. But throw in some female head lice and I'll go for it. By the way, do know if female head lice have nipples?
"Oh for fucks sake. You're sicker than I thought."
Yep! And it only gets worse.
Last nights VP debate was fun because a fly landed on the VP's head for a couple of minutes. Today the wobble heads say, "the sign of evil!" or "The DEVIL!"
Hahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahh X 10 billion
You see... I know that fly by name. Or better yet, let the parasite tell you about him.
"What? Moogle? You want me to talk about that idiot? That fly has contaminated more canned dog food than any other fly I know. Moogle is an idiot like you."
Yep. Last night Moogle was cruising for chicks (not baby chickens, rather the female version of fly since fly's like to fuck as much as any male)
Moogle looked at Harris and puked (yes, flys do indeed puke when confronted with butt ugly much like a lot of males) He flew over the moderator and puked again because of the strong stench of perfume.
Now, he chose Pence's head for one reason and one reason only, that being, the head lice. Pence has head lice and in particular some pretty awesome female head lice and since Moogle is an idiot... he got all horny and landed to try and seduce some head lice.
The head lice wanted nothing to do with Moogle though some male head lice made overtures but Moogle had his mind made up regarding the female.
And THAT is the truth about the fly on Pence's head. The Devil has no need to deal with politicians as ALL politicians are mostly evil bastards and frankly, scare ol Beezlebub a little.
"Uh... numbnuts?"
Yes parasite?
"You seriously need some mental aid. Might I suggest a straight jacket and drugs?"
Sure. But throw in some female head lice and I'll go for it. By the way, do know if female head lice have nipples?
"Oh for fucks sake. You're sicker than I thought."
Yep! And it only gets worse.