Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

It was a horrible day today. Ask any worker who does mundane labor for the rich how their day went. Of course, there is always the one worker which finds the beauty of chewing gum peeled from what was left under a table.

***

George Soro's is an inspirational 91 year old. He said, "Today China and Russia present the greatest threat to open society."

He is wrong. The greatest threat to open society stares back at everyone looking into a mirror.

***

It all reminds me of a great quote, "Kill them all and let God sort it out."

[Lipinski]

Inspired by Turkey and Israel. Turkey definitely does not make one sleepy.

But then, after thinking about Israel and Turkey, the thought of perfume entered the mind, and why not, I scored on a box of perfume at the auction. Some expensive low-end stuff. And it all smelllls good.

*
There was an earthquake in Turkey, a country of ever shifting sands, still holding the Wall of Jericho

Women of the night alluring, more so than prayer calls

Smelling of the sandalwood fragrance

Thinking of sex.

[Lipinski]

Redd Foxx, actor on, Sanford and Son, what an inspirational memory. "It's the big one... I'm coming..."

So, what do you do if you are protecting your small dog from an attack by a larger dog?

Do you hold your arm out and try to stop the larger dog?

Do you do anything but watch in horror as the larger dog kills the smaller dog?

My friend used his arm and for saving his dog he received 13 stitches. The dog came back to attack the cats a few days later and so my friend shot and killed the dog. Now people hate him for his actions.

So very inspiring. Big dogs. Little dogs. Pain.

"It's the big one... I'm coming."
*

What is the morality of man if man feels something without the thought of God?

Indignation sharing anger

How than nothing more acceptable when porn videos show a raw show of what is a beautiful action between real lovers becoming nothing more than
something to be ashamed of
and for.

Children shot in Texas and the blame falls on the lead of the bullet
when neglecting the mention of the highly accepted form of children entertainment of video games where one learns the art
of killing people,
or families divided
or most importantly
feeling something without the thought of God.

[Lipinski]

K'larpo is an interesting entity. A leprechaun of sorts though much older as he came to this planet over fifty million years ago.

He is a moody fellow and prone to trickery with his use of vibrations far below the surface of the planet where he loves to dabble in the Gateway between time and space. The more concentrated the matter the more the matter is traveled.

Tonight he is the inspiration gathered from the fog laden valleys and rain. Tonight there is no parasite as K'larpo is the master-in-force causing complete submission of the parasite. And so, let me introduce you to what is currently vibrating at a frequency to match the friction of a raindrop falling through the air.

"Hello."

The floor is now yours.

"Goodbye"

You have something to say so say it.

"Hello."

And?

"Goodbye."

I see you...

"Yes, it is in the eyes."
***

Eyes

From creatures spawned native to soil far past compost and fermentation;dull, blank, lifeless creations

Brown the glow from such consumed without thought or effort other than need

A spiders thoughts so simple when mirrored as looked into their head, a dream

A fly simple to find and feed, nightmare for so much life in Creation
~

"Hello."

Human glow as shown bold as they remain sad, happy, pained, joyful; life shown in colors of hazel, blue, brown; beauty...

"Goodbye."

~

There is a difference when powered by such magnificent vibration

Morlon, a wizards lair buried deep below the ice and above the fires of creation

"Hello."
"Goodbye."
"Hello."
"Goodbye."

~

i stared into the eyes of God, not with boldness, fear, or determination

"Hello."

God stared back with love

"Goodbye."

Now to begin a new web spun, spun of the finest vibrations, legs powerful and the silk stronger than stars at birth

"Hello."

The eyes of such the beauty of what is revealed, never to lose the glow at death. This is what it is to be alive, in tune, and a part of the very art of
creation.

"Goodbye."

[Lipinski]

"What happened last night?" The parasite looked a bit groggy and confused.

Nothing. Nothing except some fog and rain.

"My head hurts."

Good.

"Did you save me some pancakes?"

Nope.

"Potato chips?"

Nope. There is some dog kibble in Thor's bowl though. Knock yourself out.
***

It's getting harder to stay within the realm of an illusion called, sanity

It is as if dripping water meets the cold northern breeze where all is ice and frozen for eternity.

Chipping away in futility with a warm breath of moisture laden dreams

Waking to the comforting sounds, sights, and feeling of, of, of, so much; sound of a crickets feet, smell of green, and the laughter of insanity.

"Hey moron, dogs actually eat this shit?" The parasite was crunching on rock hard bits of what the manufacture stated is made of real chicken...Or is it fish?

If it will make you feel any better, there are some Poptart's near the oven.

[Lipinski]

A girl and a guitar, is there anything else even remotely so sexy?

Laura Cox is not the example as mind still has to catch up to the speed of sound; Picture in a thousand words
you know.

Fingers a blur, eyes concentrated, and such a mind

A smile.

Today I blew a hydraulic hose.

[Lipinski]

Memories

Memorial Day, another day of remembering where one came from, where one met another, and another, and another, until in a group they forged a group of ideals, of family, of spiritual, of national; People together.

These people lived to continue, these people died in their belief from war on a battlefield; Nation. National.

Today, this country only exists because one is born, and another, and another, and another, until in a group they forge a group of ideals, of family, of spiritual, of national; People together.

One thousand years from today, the memories will be viewed as nothing more than speculation and fictional tales, as humanity alone and scattered tries again to reassemble the ashes.
***

(Memories. Memorial Day. To those that served and died for others, sacrificing for a continuation of a united people, the winds forever more carry the song of what it is to give their final breath in honor.)

[Lipinski]

sometimes...
a writer writes the first thing that comes to mind. a tiny mind as full ass the Universe:)
a snake was there, silent and motionless. it did not bite or even flicker the tongue. the knife was not silent or motionless, as it fell toe the grace of the skin...Slicing deep. Only enough to reveal a spark.

Inside, the snake explored the river of red. The tongue now in charge and directing. A eery sound where there was none.

(picture inserted. file size: indefinite)

there was no pain. no anger. no fear. not even a smile.

seeing the scars healed as the rain brought merriment

tiy ti you see world... there are no misspelled wrods when a writer writes the first thing that comes to mind. A tiny mind, a mind of a Universe.

[Lipinski]

SETI is the inspiration for this little box today.
*

Species and civilizations bounce out radio frequencies to add to the density of the void.

Listening and looking for any anomalies.....

and then, the whole Universe implodes while it explodes and all those frequencies get muddled and lost,

or?

do they?

Amazing what happens between the times.

[Lipinski]

Good job Mark Wahlberg.
*

Puppies! Good job Sobo. Which one is first from a dining aspect?
*

"Puppy on a stick, that's what we used to call it," alluding to the fact in the Philippines, U.S. military folks found it an honor to dine out on the street and consume the tasty 'meat' on a stick.

China eats dog.

Dogs eat dog.

Biden has lost his mind

Sobo's first is a male I now call the little pup, Mr. Tiddles.

A good day today. There is Life back into my world...

[Lipinski]

Mary Poppins!

"What?"

Deity or no-can-do!

"You're fucking nuts."

Hare Krishna!

(the parasite was used to robins rants and journeys to the loony world of inspiration, but this time it was starting to get a little worried.)

Tell what parasite. I'm gonna let you write today's exercise in the absurd and boring. YOU are going to write the story and for inspiration it has to relate to the man standing next to his motorcycle. The man is in his mid 50's, fat, short hair, wearing black leather, AND most importantly, he was seen spraying the top of his head with an aerosol can.

"Oh goody..."

***

The Spray

Written by: The parasite

A question is poised. What was the biker dude spraying his hair with while on the White Bird grade?

Some could speculate it was, Pam. Pam sprayed on a pan keeps food from sticking on the pan (where did I hear this from? A dream?)

Hair spray is just too obvious a choice as some men love the pompadour.

Insect spray of course, of course insects infest the very soul of mankind so bug spray would indeed be fitting.

Dolphins rock! Humans suck! And, and, and... where was I? Oh. Oh okay. Hair spray on some biker dude...

There was a strange look from a woman, and why? Dolphins on her mind? Where did I put that fucking bag of chips... Thor! You bastard! And now, pups.

Anyway, who gives a shit what some biker guy, gal, it, they, or them, spray...
If I had a dick I'd piss on their head.
If I had a bladder or any mechanical means of taking a liquid and turning it into a spray
I really don't give a shit about some guy spraying his head, especially one that rides a motorcycle.

So, there's my story about a man spraying his head with spray.

The End.

*

That was beautiful parasite. Except the real reason the man was spraying his head is way to obvious for a man spraying an aerosol mist from a can atop his noggin...

"Oh (sigh, followed by profanity and muttering.) Pray tell, let me know."

The man was an alien clone of a slave the Torian people use to conduct mundane menial labor with the benefit of being a handy food source.

The man was a clone whose job was to transport Smegmah (heehee) to his alien overlords. When his task was completed he was to be butchered and cooked. A most wonderful meal!

So, following the biological programming all slave clones are imprinted with. He was spraying an aerosol mist designed to soften muscle tissue WHILE imparting a spicy seasoning.

"Wow. I'm hungry. We got any pork sausage?"

[Lipinski]

Religion is in the 'food' group for humans. The body needs nourishment and the mind needs sustenance.

Religion for Nazi's was race/power/nationalism/pride. Religion for KKK members is some form of of white god, food, money, power, pride. Religion for many people around the world is self/money/ and blah, blah, blah.

It never seems to change... Humans that have cognitive abilities and skills of the physical to enable their choices ALL worship at the alter of 'something'.

As such, very, very inspirational. Take for example a headline so very common in so very many common veins Drag queen pastor declares 'God is nothing' in blasphemous profanity-laced video
News

The headline is not offensive unless one wants it to be. God loves such as much as God loves in many ways that are so simple it almost becomes easy to deny such. And so, humans do. Every one. Each and every one dabble in ways to be themselves WITHOUT God.

So, today God is going to write something. It does not need to be written as it is much older than even the thought of this planet. It is more than a feeling or dream. It is the beating heart of human consciousness felt in a universal existence of life meeting itself in the mirror with Life.
*
Life

Feel the thoughts, it feels like it is real.
To see, hear, feel, think, be.
Ponder the emotions of love and hate
Do you still yearn?

Striving to arrive at a conclusion while deciding on a dream
with so many threads of sadness, pain, and blame.

What is sacrifice and kindness compared to selfish and vain
It is all the same when the body ceases to move and exist on this worldly plain?

Children all, like squirming puppies looking for the nipple filled with life
Learning what it is like
and deciding.

Red hats.
Blue suits.
A thong.
Naked to all and yet trying to mask with an illusion of so many choices both good and bad.

Rules?
Commandments?
Really?

i Love you all. Each
and
every
one.

There is
a day coming
a day where humanity will be ready to be alive
a day of rejoicing unity dependent upon nothing of the body or world

So much to smile about and rejoice as the fingers twine
Together we will all sit in the Garden
beneath the Tree of Life
laughing and singing
forever more
free.

[Lipinski]

Simple syrup: (two cool words when put together)
Sugar and water simmered atop a stove
Such simplicity brings to mind.
*

Japanese prawns

*

Asparagus white or green

*

Racial diversity

((( bought a school bus for $4051.00 Whahoo!))) It's yellow and yellow perch will succumb .

And now... a word from a sponsor: "Constipated? Feel like a bloated cow? (moo) Then partner, the place you wanna be is down at Big Bobs Bull Balls Mattress Emporium. We all is gonna allow you to get a good nights sleep for such a low price I'd be a plumb fool to even mention the tiny fact that for only a dollar down you can take a bull balls mattress home."Full disclosure: one dollar down and $50/month for 167 months.

And then the thought, three corgi's got their tails cut and the dew claws removed.

[Lipinski]

thank you sir, may i have another?

[Lipinski]

And so to Tinker Bell, you are immortal and just had to prove it.

Good journey

[Lipinski]

History is a fun and inspirational source for writers. Take the example of the citizens of what is now called, North America. They rowed big boats over to what is now called, Europe.

The North Americans enslaved and took away all of the European countries.

It was not a total loss though as the invaders brought with them the knowledge of the travois, the bow and arrow, and tabacco.

And so, some more reality.
*

Vikings did not exist. Nope. No sirree. Read about it on the internet. Something about pirates. Said something about some Somali folks would then have to be pirates aka...vikings.

Math now intrudes. Numbers morphing into and with the fog of time.

There... a hand reaching. Can you feel the fingers?

Blowing a breath of fog to reveal the Viking soul ; words beyond the grasp or tendrils of the second hand.

[Lipinski]

Customs and traditions.

When reading a story it is to digest what a writer has lead their mind into something comfortable or uncomfortable.

News outlets are experts in writing something designed to make the reader angry and as such, a part of a large group of angry readers.

Modern technology such as the internet, television, cable; platforms of presenting to readers/viewers, a story for them to digest.

All creatures on this planet follow a basic customs and traditions. Geese fly south for the winter and return in the spring to procreate. A seemingly endless cycle.

Humans fuck, babies are born, raised, fuck, and die.

Salmon smolt hatch in fresh water, swim to the ocean, grow, return to the water of birth, spawn, die.

Elephants practice death rituals as do many species to include humans.

Left to their own choices it may seem like an opportunity. Take geese for example. They fly south for the winter but fly north to raise their young... Why not settle in an ideal location and do both? (there is an answer but that is for the reader to understand)

Humans are primitive creatures of flesh. The stories they write and enjoy/hate, are primitive in structure, style, and content.

There is a simple, "Once upon a time," or "The end," style so very familiar to human literature. Boring. Predictable. Birth and death. Death and birth. THIS is the common vein for any story or lifeform on this planet. Everything written then becomes a story centered around the two basic and simple facts.

Humans are at a level where they can understand something more than life and death. Stories of vampires and immortal creatures. Stories of gods, god, God. What fun! And yet, for all of humanities imagination and 'intelligence', the stories still revolve around birth and death.

Cemeteries are interesting. Lately many humans say, "Burn me, scatter my ashes." While some say, "Casket, party, headstone."

Funny thing about all humans. They all die, rot, and return the elements they borrowed for their 'time' of existence. An endless cycle of birth and death.

And so, a story.
***

Once upon a time
A time of no beginning; always ended
A time of ending; always beginning
there was the birth of nothing leading to the death of all
and all were born.

You can't see, feel, hear, smell, think, know, and this is important, for if you could you would not be able to understand. Instead you can feel, hear, smell, think, know, and this is not important, for you are able to understand your moment in time.

There is an understanding of dimensions and theory of more than something of three.
There is a misunderstanding of something real and endless in dimension, this the ability of Life
Numbers mean so much and yet they mean nothing.

A clue.
In the time it has taken from your understanding, did you feel the bridge be studied, excavated, built, used, and destroyed?

Above you, over a billion years ago, did you feel the star implode?

Over there, since the last question, a period of silence lasting more than a million years

And in the time it took you to pick your nose and wonder what should be done this evening, did you smell the end of humanities stubborn resolve:?:

Feelings and stories. Poetry. Music. Flesh and bone. A sun in the throes of nuclear reaction. Warmth. Green grass. Growth.

Life
Death
Time
Stories.

Four simple ingredients.
So much to live for and die with
and through it all, no matter the matter
a smile eternal upon the face that will never die.

[Lipinski]

Wow! Just heard alien space craft can cloak their ships so no one can see them!

and then

Pluto.

Pluto is the newest addition of the corgi clan

(and who says Pluto is not a planet...)

*

Let's see
Today
Today is again, another day

Yesterday was yesterday, after it was today

I wonder...
What will Pluto eplain.

[Lipinski]

On fortunus stride, labored breath of chaos bred
Strength free from the burden of rein
Head held towards heavens high
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There is nothing stirrup bound
No rider able
Fire a friend astride
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For riding the Wind ever and forever more, free.

[Lipinski]

Remember this: "Fe Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I grind his bones to make me bread..."

A lovely children's tale taught once-upon-a-time.

Inspirational.

I wonder, what would replace it in today's shit storm of human intellect?
*

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Here come the white man with a machine gun. Hateful. Racist. Even taking away poor folks food stamps..."

or
"
"Tommy is Tammy who is Bill and Jane. Girls have a penis and men have babies. We all learn to kill playing video games..."

or

"Jack and Jill went up the hill to have a little fun. Little Jill forgot her pill and now they have a son..."

or

"Everything out of a humans mouth is nothing more than lies..."

[Lipinski]

Inca children were drugged with cocaine to keep them calm before being sacrificed- study

It is nice science provides inspiring topics for writers. It is common knowledge that the Inca folks liked to conduct human sacrifice and what better victim than a six year old child. That makes sense because thirteen year old girls made good servants and breeders while thirteen year old boys made for some good labor to build pyramids and carry rocks.

It sounds cruel to kill children but not really. I mean, do you know how expensive cocaine is? The Inca's were very humane as they could have just bashed the kids in the head with a rock or yanked them out of the womb with a stick.

Which leads to the next bit of inspiration. Words. Power. And gods.

PULLMAN - Washington State University has launched an inclusive language guide to encourage "communication that welcomes and respects the diversity of students, faculty, staff, alumni, and everyone."

The new guide recommends "all written content should be free from words, phrases, or tones that are offensive and/or exclude people based on their identities." The guide gives specific examples on a range of categories like age, race, religion, gender, incarceration and more.

The guide suggests the use of "older adult" as opposed to "elderly," or "people in jail" instead of "felon." Communication at WSU should also no longer include the term "ladies and gentlemen." The guide recommends using "everyone, folks, and y’all" as alternatives.

Other suggested word replacements include:

"humankind" instead of "mankind"
"parents" instead of "moms and dads"
"first year students" instead of "freshmen"
"disabled" instead of "handicapped"
"person without a disability" instead of "normal"
"human-made" instead on "man-made"

The guide also suggests limiting the use of courtesy titles such as Mrs., Mr., and Ms.

"Can I write a guide for humans?"

Sure parasite. For a retard you're just as intelligent as any retarded college professor.

"Great!"

The Parasites Guide for Happy Human Liveing

Written by: The god of power

1. All humans should stop breathing. It is easy. Just duct tape a large rock to your stomach and jump off a dock into the water.

2. All humans should demand more attention and prove just how serious they are are by holding their breath, while underwater with a rock duct taped to their stomach.

3.All humans should get sterilized, preferably before taping a rock to their stomach. That way when they fuck they will not create children which can be given cocaine and then sacrificed to some silly god.

4. All humans should send me $10.00 or more as they won't need money anymore after jumping into a lake with a rock taped to their stomach.

*

"Whattia think? Pretty good advice huh?"

Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Here parasite. Here is $10.00 Now help me hold this rock on my stomach while I wrap duct tape around my stomach.

"Sure. Think you have enough tape? Your belly is huge."

[Lipinski]

Today is a special day for me. Which reminds me that readers in the world really care nothing about the author/writer of stories other than if they like the stories written by an author then they may seek to read more of what that person has written.

The story is what matters, not the authors views, opinions, or life.

Plato's writing speaks for itself and very, very, few to include none...actually know much about him.

Sometimes a story is fictional or non-fictional; written in a way a writer wants to portray the subject.

Some writers write using other names or identities, as if this would shield them from the scrutiny of a reader.

A lot of words today just as there was a lot of words yesterday and a lot of words tomorrow.

I find it interesting how the power of words written become something 'alive' while the author is long dead to a world.

Sometimes the story is something entirely different, something geared not for the audience of today but rather for the audience of the past and future and for species not even remotely human.

Coming to this world has been an interesting experience as well as an interesting study full of experimentation.

This thread here on Aphelion has been wonderful. To be able to write as one sees fit regardless of happiness, sorrow, or anger the words impart. So many today are being trained via censorship and control the readers themselves 'think' they know themselves and would be truly shocked to learn what a mirror can reveal.

This world, this planet has tried to control me, train me, teach me, and in a way it has only affirmed what was already obvious and known.

This planet is a wonderful experiment gifted with the essence of Life but holds fast to the death of life as if Life depended upon it... So very, very wrong on so many levels.

There is an obvious reason for the need of death on this planet just as there is the obvious reason why Life will never succumb to death. You could call it fiction, fantasy, or maybe even a safer word such as reality or philosophy.

Ask a Supreme Court nominee what is a woman and there lies a simple example of how this world is and will be for a very, very long time.

I was once told that the way to train a mule is to first hit them in the head with a shovel or piece of lumber or the reality as understood by humans, before the training actually begins...

Ha! Sometimes a mule is not a mule at all.

Yes. Today is another day for everything on this level of dimension. You woke up, you ate, you shit, you sneezed, you yawned, you ate, you worked, you thought, you exist, and it is good.

For me, I died a thousand times today and was born a thousand times. Now the travel becomes easier, the reality cleared, the logic less chaotic, as I do not matter at all. For me, as the rain gathers strength, my soul is cleansed of the foulness trying to control me, as such, a very, very special day.
***

A Blessing

"Why does God allow such pain and suffering?" Many ask this while witnessing or experiencing great emotional and physical horror and pain.

"There is no God!" Many say in response.

"There are reasons why such happen, such as free will." Many say as they struggle with a concept called, hope and faith.

God. What an interesting thought. An interesting topic. An interesting story...

It is obvious everyone on this planet has heard of god, gods, God. It is obvious because to deny something exists one must acknowledge some kind of understanding about it, much as Unicorns do not exist but everyone knows what a unicorn is.

In all the stories on this planet the common identity of each and every story is the characters needed and what those characters are. They could be imaginary or real. They could be mortal or immortal. All stories need something a reader can understand.

God is a character. God is a story. But what does God look like? What does God sound like? Who made God? So many questions just begging for answers via what readers minds crave; stories.

Religions like to consider themselves experts at answering such questions about God with their own stories about God, god, gods... This causes a bit of a problem as some religions paint God as a Man while others, a Woman, while others to include those not believing in God, as a spaghetti monster. Regardless, there are a lot of stories about Unicorns as there are about God. Amazing bit a trivia for those so inclined and boring as a dry, lifeless rock for others.

"Why?"
"How?"
"When?"

An intelligent species can be defined not just by the physical dexterity of opposing thumbs or language or science or anything complex. It can be defined simply by the means of how a species can ask and ponder questions.

Questions lead to speculation and answers. Sometimes the words are answers that lead to something grander, sometimes the answers lead in the wrong direction, but most importantly they lead into more questions.

Children love to ask questions. They question everything. "Why are there clouds? Why does lightning make sound?' Why does daddy hit mommy?"

There is great danger and degradation of intellect when a species stops questioning. When a species lives and exists as if it knows everything, then the future is full of darkness and grim reality.

For me, a primitive shell of physical/biological construct needed for the moment, the greatest blessing i could ever receive is to hear and be with God in a way far beyond the understanding of life.

This is why i admire how beautiful Life truly is. For without Life there is no God present in life. and in life there is then nothing to look forward to except the unquestionable reality of death.
***

LIFE

It is
a good day to be alive

To store away in a forgotten box the pain of choices made and taken
To wash away the remnants of ill will and hate

As the music sweeps the stars into dancing, the very rocks below my feet sing in jubilation
A dry, lifeless rock
Cold
Silent
Comes alive at the very thought of God's touch, and a flower grows from the sand

it is
a blessing.

[Lipinski]

"Papa, tell me the story again."

Sitting in the chair to relax after mowing the third field of hay in less than a week, the father of the young boy smiled and said, "Which story again?"

"You know. The one about the water beasts."

"Ha! Water beasts... Which one are referring too? The Levithan? Behemoth? Ziz?"

With a giggle the boy said, "Papa, you told me the story about Ziz yesterday and of Behemoth last week. They are the creatures of earth and sky. I want to hear of Levithan.

The father grew quiet for a few minutes as he cleaned his pipe and loaded it with fresh tobacco. Taking a stick he thrust it into the fire grate and with a small flame at the end, lit the pipe. Puffing a few moments, he sighed as he leaned back and replied. "Son, you know full well about Levithan. However, I will tell you the story of the Kraken. A most wonderful sea creature."

"The Kraken is nothing compared to Levithan!" The father was proud of his son. So young and yet already so wise in the ways of the world.

"True. Very true. But, the Kraken inspired humans to create a drink in his honor."

"A drink? What kind of drink?"

"A most wonderful drink. Rum. A black, dark rum full of the depths of the sea with the roiling waves of a storm in battle."

"Really? Might I try some of this drink?"

In the culture of the man and his son there was no taboo against what some in the world would consider taboo. The son had tasted the fathers tobacco pipe, he had sipped the fermented honey wine called, mead. Today he was to sip the Kraken.

The man rose and went to an old cupboard placed against the wall far from the fireplace. It was a cupboard older than the man or the man's father or the father of many men going back centuries. It was carved of the wood of a tree not of this planet. Covered in the ancient writing of the Elders. If one looked away from the cupboard, they would swear that out of the corner of their vision, the writing would wiggle and come alive.

Opening the cupboard and reaching inside, the bottle holding a very dark liquid was grasped. Inside the bottle, the 'rum' moved as if it were in the midst of a windstorm.

With a steady hand the man poured some of the contents into a red glass forged in a fire by one of the many cousins of the family. Taking a sip the man handed the glass to his son. "Here, hold the glass in both hands, close your eyes and take a sip."

Smiling the young man did as instructed. With his eyes closed he lifted the glass to his his lips and sipped a taste of the Kraken.

Instantly the mind of the lad was filled with pictures of a sailing ship being torn apart by a mighty water beast.
He laughed and opening his eyes he handed the glass back to his father.

"Did you enjoy the sip?" The fathers smile was as bright and vibrant as his son's.

"Yes father. I enjoyed it very much. It is a good drink..."

The rest of the day past pleasantly for the two as the daylight faded and the rain fell gently outside.

[Lipinski]

"Which is it? A cat becomes a witch or a witch becomes a cat?" A befuddled statement by a befuddled wizard. Seems the old bloak was sipping a bit too much of his t'ra concoction ...

"It is both," a reply coming from a very strange looking bird.

"Ah, yes. Thank you Berny."

"You are most welcome." Berny was a brave little bird. Though he did chatter constantly in many tongues of dialect.

Continuing Berny asked the wizard, "Why are you talking about witches and cats?"

"Been thinking about that big black female that got caught killing and eating all those chickens." Taking another sip of t'ra he added, "The look in her eyes were filled with pure hate."

"How did the rage of a cat let you know it was a witch?"

"I watched the spirit transfer as the soil was placed over the dead body."

"Dead body? I thought you said the cat was caught killing and eating all those chickens?" Berny could also drive most people crazy with all his constant questions.

"Well, I killed the cat. Had too. Killed her again a few weeks later. She was a vicious witch for sure."

"How did you kill the cat, or should I say, witch?"

With a sigh the wizard said, "With a choice."

[Lipinski]

When animals talk it can sometimes become easy to confuse their language with reciprocal thoughts of ignorance.

Take yesterday for example, a man was out walking in wet grass when he came upon a covey of newly hatched chukars. There were many and their size not much bigger than half of the man's thumb.

"Hello sir, look at us. We just arrived. Would you like to play?" One of the chukars's smiled as it asked the man.

"Yes, would you like to play? We think you're a tall strange looking creature but we like your smile." Another one beamed.

The mother of this brood was talking also, "Children. Children. Come here. Hide. That man is a human. He is dangerous." To which the younglings were torn between talking with the man or listening to their mother.

Language of youth is real truth. It is real. It is.

Mothers are designed to protect what is real and innocent. They themselves learned soon a long time ago that the world is a cruel and heartless place to be young and so they try to protect as long as they can.

The man moved on in silence, leaving the family to fend off what cannot be controlled or stopped. He wish them the best knowing many of the young would soon die as the language and drama of life continues.

[Lipinski]

Music.

A body nods and sways to the physical impossibility of grasping; music the temptress of senses

Music is

sigh...

Music is almost as good as tasty food, or maybe even the same.

[Lipinski]

In honor of Juneteenth, a holiday for freedom as signed into law by a President of something called, United States.

So very inspiring.
*

A Holiday

They came again. They had been to a planet called, Earth once before way back in time when dinosaurs roamed the wet, moist planet.

This time was called, 2022. There was not much fanfare as far as humanity was concerned. Mankind was still living its life as it had for thousands of years. Smiling. Hating. Loving. Writing. Dying.

It was the dying that increased greatly when they came. It increased because they killed every human on the planet and destroyed every city, every town, every building.

They were kind in that they treated every human equally. Black, white, brown, yellow...all were instantly vaporized.

The sinners and saints. The thieves and judges. Muslims. Jews. Catholics. Not one dream of the human species was allowed to exist.

It was absolutely beautiful! There was no screaming as there was no one left alive to scream. There was nothing left except the visitors and all the rest of the biological life existing on the planet, all that is except humans.

It was not strange that they came and that they killed an entire species. They did not do it for fun or hate. They did not recognize humanity as anything more than a parasite and not fit to be in the presence of the most Important one named Zmog.

Zmog was their leader and he had picked Earth for a place to hold a special holiday for his people to celebrate the ten million years of peace they all shared with each other.

The people who Zmog was the leader of all were extremely peaceful and wonderful creatures. They had not engaged in war for ten million years. They were intelligent and loving and especially loved the beauty of planets such as Earth and those millions of beautiful species in the wild of such planets such as elephants, whales, spiders, ants...

As for humans, Zmog knew the scientist that built and designed the A.I. (artificial intelligence) called humans. Zmog pitied what that entity did because the design flaws were so very obvious.It was a blessing to rid the planet of humans. It was now a much nicer place to play the traditional games of Zmog's people. But before there were the games, there would be much music and a large picnic.

The end.

[Lipinski]

Jelly fish are all the way on the east coast.
(and this is why the mind ooze...literally, oozes... into places neglected in creation.)s

Yesterday was a day where the waters smiled, (those giggles and side glances)

A pencil, so simple a golden (teeth gnawed) so simple

Food? Of course!

Chili's
Oysters
(just a bit of chilled halibut)

You see, here on a coast of four directions, a beach a circle around the rays of the Sun,

Yesterday was a day where a war inside, inside raging, and sated... somehow, in a way where
East
South
West
North
.
.
.

merged
explosions
sated
satisfy
a
goal
everywhere.

(did they see it?)

.

[Lipinski]

Marlene has four baby bunnies. Larry would have laughed. The clouds shared the moment with rain.
*

A rainbow seems to point down on the ends like a clown frown, weeping tears the clouds reveal
The hills barren with the bases rooted in stone, no floppy shoes
and of course,
the sky has to wear the whimsical hat
while flowers with wet petals prove the humor of Gods comedy
just the joke of life.

[Lipinski]

CDC tells public to not 'kiss or snuggle' chickens, ducks, backyard poultry amid salmonella outbreaks

This headline is inspiring on many levels. When I first read the article it reminded me of the memory of seeing a fellow Marine fuck a chicken while deployed in the Philippines. Such memories should disappear along with the above headlines.

Thank goodness most humans are rational, compassionate, loving creatures.

"HA! You're retarded and people suck. Now, go find me a chicken to snuggle with."

Okay parasite, you want a rhode island red or a banty?

"What the heck...I'll take both please."
***

Diseased Creatures

Fowl dissent these slaves to the flesh
Bound in soul to the beast of carnality
Pleased by sickness of soul and mind.

In Mexico the woman is pleased by a donkey, her pain rewarded by coin
In Philippines the man is pleased by a chicken, his reward a cold San Miguel beer
In America cartoon men kiss other cartoon men.

Sodom and Gomorrah, a city of such pleasant sin
Bangkok the holy grail of child molestation
India where prostitutes will fuck you for ten rupees

A world you love so much during the day and night
Such a thought for a sexual pervert getting their jollies watching it explode into tiny pieces
Again
and
Again.