Remote Controller

 

vertigo from below

Will happens to the best of us. What happened to you was almost vertigo from below. Keep writing the receipt before I throw you through the window, straight into the meter. Parking is not a problem unless the holidays are dive bombing. It is time to Celebrate a long awaited chance at redemption and healing without sliding off the cliff. You can understand it is my best intention to attenuate an inclination for justice with a capital J. We can NOT let them off, set a precedent for human torture, at least have to have to be pardoned to walk. Forced retirement is none-too-soon for the spoiled prince of ignorance. Adjust for the system failure deletion of the emails, the firing of the integrities, a politicized knockout punch, and tyrannical blunders we just weep to even grasp. Floating down the street are soulfully assassinated DNA looking up without contact.

The parallel dimension is right next to your toes, where you would have stepped on the tack had you made a different choice of posture. Coming oh so close, yet completely unaware of the countless replications of this dimensions and galaxies, folding into bulk space. The untraveled distance a yarn for funding of rock analysis and moisture measurements, and original landscapes that make us draw breath quicker with the heart. It bends not our minds, but our capacity, capability to succeed in the exploration for truth, often buried by corporate greed, and scandalous scathing stories from those expecting instant gratification like a pop-tarts or automatic weapons in crates. I’ll take neither nor a life without a gun, a lawyer or a wife, but just to count on rights trampled all too frequently, while crushing icons to make them living martyrs fighting harder for serious purpose from the inspiration of unnegative change. Can you believe it now, or has it not really sunk in all the way yet?

Urine my way to get a drink.

Take a long walk off an even longer gangway into the capsule. From there you only see blurry lines far below, and colored dots sprinkling the distance. When I slash my wrist on a hidden sharp edge, apply pressure and find help in an almost dark planetarium, a helmet with my call sign awaits. This hall I just injured myself in must have been walked through by THE LIKES of Armstrong and Glenn. How long can you hold your breath, or remember not to when you view stomach punches from the launch of rumble and cinder? Once I brag to you only about my personal best you change the subject and hand me the glass. A friend should rescue a friend from over explanation and under appreciation for the patient listener. I want to know what you want to know. What I want will indefinitely end up with a main character having a bad feeling about this kind of moment, but without the suspenseful allegro.

I built this plankton for a disabled higher life form companion with recycled boards and nails, bringing a frequent fallible height of steps some bridge of carpeted assistance to arrive at the simpler joy of doing your business. It's business..., it's business ti-e-ime. Muscle up some strength to gently bring the topic up for stress can't be as bad as this statement of drought and piracy. Who's in the shitter when the shit goes down can make all the difference. The person holding the jacket, and keycard with everyday code knowledge to commit atrocities in the name of security, is handed an assignment. Since you've been gone, I just haven't been the different person you thought I was. Since I've been here, I've counted 17 attitudes, 7 psychosis, and 0.7 lame ducks. In the end, things always turn out much worse than you think they did, but you don't want to think that way, or it will be inevitably spawn negative anti-matter particles altering the future along another time track.

Moderate Your Karma! You have an old soul.

Don't use up all the tarantulas or no one will fear the end of it. Thanks for not spilling the fire on my toes in your fit of hunger. I know how the campfire takes you places while you're sitting eyes closed, legs crossed, hands on the knees of sensation. Last time there were more to of them; those isolated moments. They were all hanging around preaching going it alone, down their own street, making it their doorstep to piss-on. I let out all my piss when hope was voted up on www.reddit.com. Those space aliens are really starting to get boring next to the Alaskans and nuclear power being conceived by poison frogs. How far can you get from radiation? Or is it coming closer to the sun that gives you vampire tendencies. Reaching for the pick, if it takes you from the realm of wagoners.

I love chocolate, on your tongue, when I know its there only with my eyes closed, and my nails on you collar bone, and my whiskers in your nose. Tell them nothing. Plausible decidability to help you Deny Everything. Hustle some broken arm with a story and everything. Make it all over-the-top so as to really sell it to the Execs on the 14th of June, under the largest oak in Mendocino. Kind of keeps the riff-Raff out with seasonal burns and June bugs of doubt, making it through drought decade, waiting for the 100 year ark mover. There was handshakes to seal the deal, but all I could think about was the seal severing my arm at the bicep for the mackerel, I holy akin to. Who doesn't like appetizers and the company of tunes?

O-Ba-Ma!

O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma!

Forty four to the fourth power squared times Nana's pie. Thank everyone, all the spyders of the web casting nets for the fall out of the real, not the grande of props. The children will thank us from turning right at the cliff of Democracy above the canyon of debt and death the child king has puppeteer in the wing. His words will live like JFK's did for us and our parents. The young will aspire in numbers never before held, pushing the societal partisan aside in favor of progressive government held accountable, rolled back, and re-directed towards peace, justice and the long lost American way. Finally, no cover ups, no lies, no threats, no name calling, no hate, no religion, no drilling, no drowning, no torture, no smears, no detaining, no politicized justice, no breach of security, no lost emails, no voter suppression, no political assassinations, no wars, no nukes, no marshal law, no oil company tax breaks, no whale killing sonar, no salmon hung out to dry, no delisted species, no gutting of good, no bankruptcy, no miserable smirking, no sickness in my stomach, just solutions, peace and justice.

Ghoulish fun it is to trample the moonlight with boots and beer cans in gushing gutters. Howling pups in sour makeup drop buckets of laughter for a shot at sweet heaven. The occurrence of fire on the hallowed eve, wakes up the boozers from their curling up. Take me to the wrong way down, so that I can again believe in my thought separate from my being. Give advantage to the falling, the drowning, the left out in the cold, or I may not let go of the alarm clock with a funny kind of tick of nervousness. My Dear, there are deer in our front and along the side, under and walking on the magnolias. Harvest the last snip of a red head and give her a wave on her way out to sea, where she will see for the first time an uncompromising answer from the deep. The cloud takes the ship on its way to windy spray and often reflects sun drops on the bay. I try often to remember to cherish the rewards that are mostly felt, not touched, as they are not one and the same on the shady side of the high-rise shadow.

Check with your neighbors if their signs have been stolen. The for-sale signs that there's nothing left to invest in tropical drink distribution and marketing. Keep hold of the souvenir mug and don't chip the paint parking next to the island officer and on his last quota. Keep on topic or else you may flop your pick of battles to fight or appointments to keep. Drink up before the ants come to dine, or you'll not find it taped beneath the one under the eucalyptus grove, by the dune seaside. Butterflies breeding above in tranquil flapping and not yelling out passion, but warming in the sunlight and falling together. Quite promising for the maiden calls of the season.

Passionista

She had lost her way. He had found his heartache. Her fashion sense was on the loose. His losing cost him his integrity. My lunch is on the floor. Count the bits of careless caution and careful lies in the pool of deception. We spoke out, until our chords bled and our mobiles screamed out for a new kind of breakfast cereal. One that does not give you cancer or a hole in the head. She is his moose. He is her rad commie wishing for a day when the good-ol-boys start hoisting their own. Or at least hold themselves accountable for the worst of what can't be denied. Just meet us half way to 7-11, and you will see the street walker can talk her way into anything, even a six-figure suit, and a five figure suite, and a four figure boot to walk all over anyone who points out what she said, a 3 figure fill in the blank check, a two finger sign, and a single figure of speech.

Time comes to wait by my front steps because its cool in the shade and you can see the others going by. Space comes to fill in my piggy bank with candy for the global winter coming to a continent near you. Matter of fact, the glass is shattering together from the beach and the stones are rolling up hill, and it all part of the project. It's in the specs. Don't count on any PowerPoint, for the big guys upstairs are filling filing cabinets with galleys, and filling the shelves with secret entrances. Read This! You passionista, slanderian, opticalinator associate. You will pay for your afternoon drives to the gigs of bad mortgages.

Fried

Back up with that baked catfish. Cup your ears before I look in the cupboards and find nothing but an IOU from the chair man; but he doesn't pull your chair like he does your switch. It belongs to you not the overstuffed manifestation of a spiderweb builder, hiding the dead things in strings and shadows. Today and before there have been faces to contend with. Now there are just things, backing up the lines for filing motions or voting. Bring them on, the peace lovers and solution finders, those damn ones with not just guilt, but the guts to go along with destablization of corporate democracy in favor of brandished justice and economic and social humility, allowing the oppressors to suffer their favorite fate.

Translate for me what your beloved pet just said? Keep those of the floor off the flooer, for four times this year, have I not like replacing something old with something new. Know when the pattern is so obvious, there is an "I told you so" in there. Someone please sweep the broken glass from the floors of Freedom Hall and change the hanging garden from rose to lilies for the dead. Drip sybolic faux blood on the fake lawn of justic with a piece, without peace, and a backup for grand theft US Constitution. Err on the side of anything else than pre-emptive agression, unless it's to hold the desecration of ethics and science by the means and Yahwehs commitee, not from where Jah is sitting, so there doesn't have to be an investigation into why hell is missing from my afternoon e-paper.

Positive Posts where you can scratch

New to the page is the welcome of positive posts where you can scratch your back and take care in the peeling paint. The armed guards of greed give wallet sized bribes to buy a new suite only it doesn't fit and there's no returns on this sale item. Hate is seen and heard by those willing to feel it in order to believe that they are not feeling it, keeping their attacks to the first 3 lower levels of captured invasive species, that thrive on drilling their way to the other side of the same place they started. The opera house and its shiny sound balls, giving the dancers their muffled heals and the disabled a real shot and finding a smooth trail through the woods. What if I did notice your looks? What if you were not falling for not interested, call back later, return to sender. Falling does not hurt him any more than not falling, but hard wood floors don't mind the rugs, and harvest season is here.

I hear the drums of peace, that have long been silent in the streets of bagged dead. Do they catch the thump in your heart or your throat, cutting away at the last bit of moisture on a leaf? Two chillies on the side if you please, hold the goose bumps, before I belt in for the countdown from mission accomplished.