"Nyah," shaking his unstable, incoherent noggin. "See, I have - " "Wow. A collaberation with gravity??" "Almost. I have - " "Bolshevik bad guys??" "Not quite. I have - " "A renaissance which is opposed to Heaven?" "Shhh. I have - "Wuss." "Shut up. I have-" "Wow. One, whole shekel??" "SHUT!! THE HELL UP!!" I sorta LOL. "No way, dude! I want one, ya firebrand." "Awholelottapowerdownhere," fast-as-a-wagon-with-a-missin-wheel. "Ha. You're nothin but a ring-around-the-RosyODonnel. Not even that. Flowers are beautiful, they worship Jesus, and always the stamens, or MALE STAMINA, to survive on their journey." "And wealth in souls. And pride, too. Can't furget pride. Nope. Up there, I'll be number two if that. Nyah. Don't wanna. Wanna keep'm. They're mine. The End." Flowers can't grow in the dark. "Good Lord above, you're that conceited and selfish, you'd make many billions be fried rather than YOU see the Light??" he blew my mind. "Touché. Who's the one? You or I?" "That's a nasty, black lie. Got them special night-goggles, don'chu?" "Precisely. And where is the light? Don't got no light, brudda. shoot2score!! And that's the way... UH-HUH UH-HUH I like it." He did some meen, disco moves like the Bee-Gee's. I laughed, "You're wildly imbued, ya hot-hed" yelling downstairs with a backhand. "And you're totally Miss Construed," he yelled back up. he couldn't take me or sweeten the kitty, capturing me not; I had something far, far down the chessboard. I feigned shock, "Why, you... you... tufted-tit-mouse you. You're just a futile, Big-Wheel," as I remained staunch like Ponch from Chips. "You say you feel extremely proud to have the faith you do when most of U.S. can't even go to the bathroom without loving their genitalia?" "Geez, evil dude, I do that, too." he stared wholeheartedly at this sinner with renewed wonder, a HAT that's RED, and a mantra of confusion; dadgum, Paw, he stared amazed that I'd have something flourishing within despite my grasp of a useless head injury. he stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, mouth open and, yet, nowhere to go like a rebellious, repulsive liar caught in the act, like I myself would do faced with my Scapular on the Devil. "Amen," quietly. "I know, I know. Hard to mortify and difficult to believe, but, yet, here I am. Screwing you over. I shall demand an audience every time I'm here so you can never escape me for eternity. Golly, Wally, aren't you beginning to feel purged already?" "HOW I WISH YOU HAD PERISHED IN HER AUTO!!!!!" he skreeemed. "Shhh!! ThereThere. She was only the catalyst to get our indelible souls to Heaven, for our bodies are only vehicles to reach eternity, up or down," as I stared right back. "We won't ALL die before our time," kinda, sorta ambiguously. For I was much larger than his rudeness, bigger than his death. "Ain't nice to scream at the King's son, but I forgive you outta compassion." he realized his error then in speaking with his Keith Blowberman, half-ego, and his open-fire-voice rose still further till it was quite painfull, not only to my ears, but the force of his yell made my face go in sorta like Chuck Yeager when he went at Mach speeds; also, his voice had this nauseating, veneer quality to it, like a decayed, soggy, kadavr-in-a-river when you're through sleeping-withe-fishies and you float to the top leisurely. Like eating an unappetizing, suicidal thistle. "HOW I WISH - " "Shöt-up, ya filthy schweinhund!!" like a Gestapo schlemiel. "NOOOOOOOOOO..." gnashing his crappy, slime-covered, pointy-teeth before I could cut him off at the pass. "Evil dude, if wishes were like the misses and gravity in a jar, we'd all be washing dishes in the car, wouldn't we? Go back to yer egregious, stinkin' Abyss. That's what you're good at, ya cynical, smart-ass; that's all I'm gonna say, ya zany, zooillological zookeeper from Zimbabwe." As I turned to leave (God's haircutter's are awesome, BTW: I overstayed my welcome anyway and Janet probably wondered where I was), I stopped Oh, yeah!! I had one more solution and he had one more diabolical diagnosis. We spoke at the same time:
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"And wormwood?"
"Got smting fer ya."
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What was that leftover stink which was synonymouse withe nostril-filling-stench of thousands of bloated mice? Like a bag of slimy, yummy, brussel-sprouts in the fridge, passionately pushed to the far-east and forgotten for five weeks. My mum was the VERY BEST at keeping phood longer than her life expentancy: Hullo, Harry Mold! Nice knowing ya! Little bitOgreen plankton water on the bottom, deliciousNnutritious things swimming on the lower end of the primordial scale, poi-fect for the Dawn of Creation. Ya never, ever knew what lurks-like-a-growth patiently waiting inside our old fridge.
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he swiftly hauled a massive crucifix up the dark stairs with a person nailed, too; her scalp open and her body had LOOOOONG T-5000 staples all over. She was nude, of course, but you couldn't tell where the torso began because she was literally covered in adversity. Blood everywhere. Covering her. Covering him. Everywhere. A foul, fetid odor was coming from both: her body had a distinct extinct, 'nuthin-dies' in the Abyss.
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"Geee, uh, that's nice," turned my face. I almost ralphed, as I held my nose. My plan was turning into reality before my very eyes. "Yeah? She likes the abuse, dontya, ya whore." "Liah." "She ain't quite so pretty now, huh?" "Liah." "O, yes, you should see the mighty-mighty jok men. They can take a lot more in their toughousity. But, alas, ya know what?" "What?" condescendingly. "I always win on those who only look parallel." he was dead-set. "She had many abortions. Thot repentance was fuzzy and worthless... and how'd she put it? A wasteOtime in this age of alpha-female-science? Lemme have that feedback form, Barbi and Ken. May get the employment application, but you more-than-likely won't be hired: the baby girl's limp head, miss BrainDead, as they sucked all her Womb-Temperature out. They call it 'patial-birth-abortion'? I call it 'my solution'. God couldn't stop her, so I did." I wept severely, cried bitterly for what seemed like ages, my hands covering my sea-soaked, drenched eyes, totally appalled by his total enmity, her bloody horror of the ages: man's throbbing joystix so filled withe conquest of mortal sin, now placed in her sacred womb-of-womanhood. he was joyfull. "O, boo-hoo. Her babies didn't get a chance, either." "Maybe she does," I whispered. "DAMN RIGHT SHE DOES!!! HeeHee I take alla the rejects who can't come downstairs without first zipping-up their pants, MissMatchMadMagazine. You have morals, sucker. I don't." he looked straight-up at me, almost coming out-of-his-pulpit. "I like that word 'NOW', besides the acronym: no yesterdays, no tomorrows, only 'NOW'. Only the length of eternity awaits those who come to me lair." I felt sick, as I puked-off Upstairs Utopia for the first time, falling down, down, down to land at his webbed feet in large chunks. Weird-animals that looked like humans immediately gobbled it up. Why? Guess they haven't been fed in 277+ years? That's gonna change. When I speak and I throw-up, they better appreciate it. "Ain't she beautifull? Ain't she looovely now?" he laughed, a long, caustic, quiet laugh. "No, my Divine Enemy didn't do this. She did it to herself. We all have free will. Hers was death." "God bless you, girl. I love you." I could see, through alla the dirt and grody, critical mass, she was quite gorgeous - probably had perfect speech, too. Probably what got her her death wish with Charles. "She refused to lissen to wisdom sitting at her gate; always wanted to talk, always running her mouth like the rude, fanatic ceiling-fan going roundNround, going nowhere, with her lame, sordid, earthly-passions of your dayNage. Multi-layered-insecurity, ya think? Lookit where she is now." *koff* "Death comes withe velocity of Babylon... Oh! Blimey ol bloke!! She tryn' to saaay sumtin. Let's give a lissen, shall we?" he put his cranium near her purreed-scalp. Barley breathing on a whisper of a dove, "Help, friend," "What was that? Couldn't hear." "Ah, now I know," as he rolled his eyes skyward. "Stupid bitch sed, 'Go to Hell, Lord Jesus'. That ain't very nice. That's what EYE say!!!!!" as he proceeded to pound her again and again and again and AGAIN...
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I looked at the bedraggled, unsavory being who literally fell in his unoccupied infidelity, and laughed - breaking away like a wild stallion in his lust for the world: there was nuthin, not a thing, but a deep, dark, black hole covering him, as if Black Beauty was never born in his contempuous novel. And he moved withe swiftness of lightning, the reprocussions of thunder! No emotions. No feelings besides the vaaast profusion of HATE, the ricocheted antipathy for humanity stuck in the fishing-lures of a plastic fedelity, to take you down under to snooze-withe-bass wherever and whenever you stand fast and committed to riches. Where there's a very biting, a very harsh reform school that never lets out. And HE'S the cruel principal with cruel principles with cloven hooves walking the murkey halls of the deceptive, cultural academy where time is non-existent. he wants to catch the fish going to Hell outta stupidity... and I ain't gonna let him sucka YOU, brudda --- The Treason people follow after 'American Idols' isn't because they don't necessarily have the extraneous faith needed, they're led blindly along filled withe 'slo-mo-metaphor, car-pitch': unable to think for themselves in this NOW mega-mall-culture, the teeming, common compilation in this crippling, parody-like-parade without OUR King of King's to teach'm to walkNtalk again. For alla the haphazard determination and Archie Bunker, schizophrenic MissTakes we've all made in our Finite Existence, we could turn the tide, America. And that only comes from the Most High. Incredible problem? Nope. Just pass the ball, Don Knotts, to Jesus --- Look, take your belief in the Cross of Christ very seriously, or don't expect too much Heaven or Heaven for that matter. When you're dead? You'll seriously wish you had, but then it'll be too late. Now, you're faced with Jesus' Justice. I'm nothing without You, my Original Shrink.
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(mo' on this blog at 'Three Amazing People'
[third story from the back])
