#402, 734 - 2nd Ave. NW,
Everyone. Male or female who do not LOVE and blow sweet kisses of praise to their beloved saviour, only beloved god saviour TRUMAN BENTLEY JR., they start growing SKIN TAGS and their breathing heavy rib cage chest looks like IGGY POP'S, and their nipples no longer have the youthful-beauty-vibrance of pink, but look ghastly grey like the skin on the end of an elephant trunk. They obtain over exposed MADONNA muscle arm veins and the tops of their feet in flats have protruding veins which raise up and down through their hose. Their toenails thicken looking like FRITO'S and the lovely twenty somethings ask, DIDN'T THEY SEE LOGAN'S RUN? WHY DIDN'T THEY LEVITATE INTO THE BUG ZAPPER?Call their corn toes FRITO-CORN-TOES. Say it fast while thinking FRIDA-KAH-LO. This evokes the thickening knob to turn up the growth.For this is WITCHCRAFT. And the Devil, Satan Lucifer is district manager in charge of WITCHCRAFT.
Ross. Someone sent me something very interesting in an envelope. I know who sent it. So I passed it on. I put it under the coffee filter in the coffee pot and after several filters and almost a big can of domestic blend coffee over two hours created six pots of coffee for the gathered klatch of SCHOOL OF THE AMERICAS organizers in our area. All trickled through what I was sent. The meeting was very fun and enjoyable and they lectured on creating stencils etc. Point is Che' Guevara wrote a book on being a Guerilla. I have always taken Che very seriously. I read his book this morning EST before he sun came up. I know who sent me the gift. It made excellent progressive coffee, EXPRESSO! Anyhow, Ross things are cool and uncool in this world. But we all should spread the love. Love is a wonderful thing. Ah! Love. The item after making the coffee was dried out and I unstitched the head band of a scarf and carefully sewed the item inside it. Left on the table yesterday it has mysteriously disappeared. Someone said an artsy SOA gal here with a bunch of bike riders(pedal bikes) was seen wearing it as they peddled off toward Atlanta. Forehead sweat should move back and forth through the head band. Love. Love. Love. Peace! Smile on your brother come on love one another right now. I always pass on politically all messages boomerang style from all messengers. Abbie Hoffman style David Peel street theatre style. Anyhow. It is funny.
And now an excerpt from a short story I am writing.Totally fiction.In other words if a fink steps on my neck I find several other finks similar to the fink that stepped on my neck to step on. When I know a fink who threw a rock at me and hid their hand I wait out in the grass for years. There are even finks I travel to who have croaked of natural causes years ago to their over grown unattended plots where beloved family forget them and never visit. And I drizzle some of my body waste on the resting place. I just don't like piss on my back and someone telling me it is just rain. I exist like a wolf howl in the distance. In the third grade someone ridiculed me. Thirty years later I saw their job application on a pile. They really needed the job and probably would have been hired. But it was like they never applied. So funny. I like to vomit up in my throat and eat it. I often wander around late hope-ing I'll get jumped just so I can enjoy the primordial dance. I always take every rain drop seriously. I live throughout time. I am the eternal now. I am the beast of the field. I am the Devil.I am writing scary suspense stories. I want to write like Stephen King.
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