Skip to main content

Luther

How was your weekend?

Oh, it was fine.  I went to my friend Luther's house and spent the weekend there.  He had a Stripper over, and a Meth Head.  I haven't spent much time around Strippers, or Meth Heads, but there I was and I gotta say, until the Meth Head finally woke up, I had a great time.

She was a country girl, with a few tats, and a good heart, but she had poison ivy on her p*ssy.  At least, that was her story.  I guess it sounds better if you call it poison ivy.  No matter what you call it, it screamed, HANDS OFF!  And, we did keep our hands off, although she did sleep naked in the bed with Luther.

So, we drank and watched Guns N Roses videos.  Luther doesn't have cable, or Netflix.  He has stacks of DVD's.  I never realized how young Axel Rose was.  He looked like he was about sixteen years old, but that band is tight, so tight!

Not having been a fan of any band very much in my life I have to respect GNR.  They represented the end of hard rock and the entry of eighties bubble gum music that main streamers love so much.  GNR gained mass appeal, but something happened in the eighties when music went worse than gay in the ironic way it did.  People often question me when I use that phrase, and let me be clear, Chick-Fil-A trash is the number one form of trash I see on the ground.  That's worse than gay.

Then the nineties came and Pearl Jam, and other hard rock bands, not quite like GNR, but then today we have Clutch, still not LIKE GNR, but equally hard rock, and kinda equally like the hard rock life of a stripper with poison ivy on her p*ssy...

She stayed for a couple of days, but then returned to the hands of her abuser as abused women so often do.  This is not a matter of economic slavery as much as it is an addiction to Meth and your enablers.  A strong drug, I've never tried, but I've heard several people talk about it as if they were in love with the stuff.

My what a long way I've come since my early days on the greens of golf courses and a life of privilege I didn't know I had.  It had to be taken away, or lost in order for me to know what I had.  On the other hand, I've lost some things I wish I never had like 115 pounds in the form of a woman from the DOPPO, the Department of Piss People Off.

As I told one of my atheist friends just yesterday, for the first time in my life, I found mental clarity.  It just took life on the streets to get me there.  This is a good thing having lived in a blur for most of my years.  Religion must be the number one cause of mental illness, as evidenced by this presidency supported by the Evangelical, Moral Majority.  Such glaring hypocrisy, in the name of Jesus, for gas guzzlers and materialists, masked by the Nazarene who doesn't look anything like this segment of his supposed followers.

Yet, the second most leading cause of mental illness, in my estimation, is the lack of religion.  Either way, you must go through this life learning to stay on your lily pad.  Suicide rates have been increasing for the last thirty years, which takes us back to the eighties again.  Hey, that actually makes sense, since it was the eighties when mainstream music went stupid and people loved it!  So, it makes perfect sense that we have this moron for president.

I'm not voting for this crap.  Voting says, I'm gullible.  And, I'm also not going to church where anybody where's a suit and tie.  I'm just not going to church, but I'm no Atheist.  God loves Hee-Haw.

Another Luther tried to reform the Catholic Church.  Instead, we have thirty thousand flavors of Christianity today, as is to be expected because absolutists and Domnionists who think themselves superior to all other people of faith are just as fallible as the rest, but deny it and attempt to force feed their beliefs upon society at large.  Jeff Sessions, the little twerp he is, should go back to Alabama and live happily ever after and leave the rest of us alone.

When the Moral Majority final figures out that as Americans we are fundamentally opposed to life in a theocracy, we shall have achieved the American dream in so far that if you live in peace you are welcomed here, no matter what you believe, because nobody has a lock on the truth, and that's the truth.




















Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fruit & Armor

In response to a post of the image above by someone   I only recently me t.  For those I've never met, then this is for you too. Wear the armor, and bear the fruit These two things in common in the common war The war within each one's soul Faith and peace are the ties that bind Fruit and armor on the body of our minds... Your soul, your spirit, these inseparable terms Speak of a place that is one in the same That place from within going out to others By the outward sign of what you do and how you react This is the battle we fight every day We start with ourselves, reaching others this way There are six pieces of armor And, nine pieces of fruit This speaks to balance In the peaceful pursuit For in the preparation for war We make peace in defense Carry on young War rior & Warrioress Your time is well spent Ephesians 6:10-18 Galatians 5: 22-23

Bicycle Bracelets

Spoken For Bicycle Bracelets   The Spoken For bracelet is a patented design perfected over the last 13 years on the sands of sunny St. Thomas. Using Wheelsmith brand stainless steel bicycle spokes, Sergio designs each bracelet and hand turns it into a unique, durable piece of jewelry. Wear it when-ever, where-ever, as the 15 gauge steel band will never fade, tarnish, or break! The chosen beads are American-crafted or are imp orted from Africa, Central America, South American, Asia. Beads are chosen for their durability as well as their appeal. From novelty beads, to classic ceramics, from traditional African trading beads to funky mood beads, you can choose the look that you like, order it to size, and wear as a single bracelet or stacked. Spoke-n For bracelets are an affordable, fun option as your everyday jewelry. Locally, handcrafted from re-purposed bicycle spokes by Sergio Ruano, they are nickle-free, stainless steel and won't turn your wrist gre...

Obama Phone

Dear President Obama, It is now 2016.  The next election is just a few days away, and your final term in office will conclude soon as well.  In 2008, I had a dream.  I dreamt I was in the Rose Garden having a conversation with you when you reached inside your coat pocket and gave me your cell phone telling me to call you.  I started to call you, but then I realized I had your cell phone.  So, how could I possibly call you if I had your phone?  I called the switchboard instead, and then I woke up. I woke up in 2008 to a life on the streets of Athens, GA.  This is ironic since I never imagined myself living on the streets, homeless, unemployed and somewhat hopeless; and after growing up on the Golf course in a middle class American lifestyle.  After three years on the streets, I finally got a job in 2011 where I remained until 2014.  Then, I became homeless again after serving six months in jail.  In the time since then, I have had thr...