Category Archives: Uncategorized

 

Best Experienced With:      The Refreshments;     Banditos

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s continued coverage of my quest for Emperorship of Florida in a new browser window.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-CBccRlXBU

 

(Editor’s Note:  Monday at midnight begins the single week of live Florida campaigning.    If you are unable to attend the midnight kick-off speech at Orlando Regional Airport, below is the speech in its entirety.    Apologies to Dr. Seuss, his heirs, and his estate.)

 

On the far-away island of Pensa-co-la,
Mully the LaJollan was soon to be king of Florida.
A nice little state. It was clean. It was neat.
The water was warm. There were Cuban sandwiches to eat.
The Floridianites had everything Floridianites might need.
And they were all happy. Quite happy indeed.

They were… until Mully, the king of them all,
Decided the kingdom he ruled was too small.
“I’m ruler”, said Mully, “of all that I see.
But I don’t see enough. That’s the trouble with me.
With this stone for a throne, I look down on my state
But I cannot look down on the places beyond.
This throne that I sit on is too, too low down.
It ought to be higher!” he said with a frown.
“If I could sit high, how much greater I’d be!
What a king! I’d be ruler of all that I see!”

So Mully the (soon-to-be) Floridian King, lifted his hand
And Mully, the (soon-to-be) Floridian King, gave a command.
He ordered nine Floridianites to drive their pickup trucks to his trailer home
And, using these Floridianites, he built a new throne.
He made each Floridian stand on another one’s back
And he piled them all up in a nine-Floridian stack.
And then Mully climbed up. He sat down on the pile.
What a wonderful view! He could see ‘most a mile!

“All mine!” Mully cried. “Oh, the things I now rule!
I’m the king of a cow! And I’m the king of a mule!
I’m the king of a bunch of keys! And, what’s more, beyond that
I’m the king of an Everglade swamp and a cat!
I’m Mully the Floridian! Oh, marvelous me!
For I am the ruler of all that I see!”

And all through the morning, he sat up there high
Saying over and over, “A great king am I!”
Until ‘long about noon. Then he heard a faint sigh.
“What’s that?” snapped the King,and he looked down the stack.
And he saw, at the bottom, a Floridian named Mack.
Just a part of his throne. And this plain little Floridian
Looked up and he said, “Beg your pardon, King Mully.
I’ve pains in my back and my shoulders and knees.
How long must we stand here, Your Majesty, please?”

“SILENCE!” the King of the Floridianites barked back.
“I’m king, and you’re only a Floridian named Mack.”

“You stay in your place while I sit here and rule.
I’m the king of Urban Myer! And I’m the king of a mule!
I’m the king of a crocodile! And a manatee! And a cat!
But that isn’t all. I’ll do better than that!
My throne shall be higher!” his royal voice thundered,
“So pile up more Floridianites! I want ’bout two hundred!”

“Floridianites! More Floridianites!” he bellowed and brayed.
And the Floridianites ‘way down in the state were afraid.
They trembled. They shook. But they came. They obeyed.
From all over the state, they came swimming by dozens.
Whole families of Floridianites, with uncles and cousins.
And all of them stepped on the head of poor Mack.
One after another, they climbed up the stack.

Then Mully the Floridian was perched up so high,
He could see forty miles from his throne in the sky!
“Hooray!” shouted Mully. “I’m the king of the trees!
I’m king of the birds! And I’m king of the bees!
I’m king of the conch shells!  King of the your rear!
Ah, me! What a throne!  What a wonderful Pilsner beer!
I’m Mully the Floridian! Oh, marvelous me!
For I am the ruler of all that I see!”

Then again, from below, in the great heavy stack,
Came a groan from that plain little Floridian named Mack.
“Your Mulliness, please… I don’t like to complain,
But down here below, we are feeling great pain.
I know, up on top you are seeing great sights,
But down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights.
We Floridianites can’t stand it. Our backs will all crack!
Besides, we need food. We are starving!” groaned Mack.

“You hush up your mouth!” howled the mighty King Mully.
“You’ve no right to talk to the world’s highest Floridian.
I rule from the clouds! Over land! Over sea!
There’s nothing, no, NOTHING, that’s higher than me!”

Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people
So meet me in Orlando at midnight
We’ll divvy up there
Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people
Well I got the pistol
So I get the Pesos
That seems fair

But, while he was shouting, he saw with surprise
That the moon of the evening was starting to rise
Up over his head in the darkening skies.
“What’s THAT?” snorted Mully. “Say, what IS that thing
That dares to be higher than Mully the King?
I shall not allow it! I’ll go higher still!
I’ll build my throne higher! I can and I will!
I’ll call some more Floridianites. I’ll stack ‘em to heaven!
I need ’bout five thousand, six hundred and seven!”

But, as Mully, the Floridian King, lifted his hand
And started to order and give the command,
That plain little Floridian below in the stack,
That plain little Floridian whose name was just Mack,
Decided he’d taken enough. And he had.
And that plain little lad got a bit mad.
And that plain little Mack did a plain little thing.
He burped!
And his burp shook the throne of the king!

And Mully the Floridian, the king of the trees,
The king of the air and the birds and the bees,
The king of a house and a cow and a mule…
Well, that was the end of the Floridian King’s rule!
For Mully, the King of all Pensa-co-la,
Fell off his high throne and fell (PLUNK) by his double wide!

And today the great Mully, that Marvelous he,
Is King of the Mud. That is all he can see.
And the Floridianites, of course… all the Floridianites are free
As Floridianites and, maybe, all creatures should be.

 

As mentioned a week ago, the MofM campaign staff will continue to not mention that my opponent for Emperor of Florida, Rick Scott, perpetrated the largest Medicare fraud in United States history while CEO of Columbia HCA.    Glass houses, cinder blocks and all that yadda yadda.    If you are going to meet us at the gate for the October 4 campaign speech detailed above, look for this plane.   We land at midnight.  

If you see our campaign vehicle, feel free to stuff $100 bills under the windshield wipers.   Game on, Rick Scott.   Game on, Florida.

 

 

Best Experienced With:     Sparklehorse/Radiohead;      Wish You Were Here

 (Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music for this evening’s get together in a new browser window.   That’s a tasty little tune)

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyv_DFzG2SI

This sunrise over Mission Bay this morning at 6:42 a.m.

 

Weddings

Arguments leading to hugging it out

Hostess Ho-Ho’s

Watership Down

Non sequitors

Insurrections of the disenfranchised

Necco wafers and Lemonheads

Baby animals learning to walk

Down pillows

Blank legal tablets

Book stores

Hardware stores

Foot stools

Bar stools

Kotler’s Marketing Management (any edition)

Travel to third world countries

Olin & The Moon CD’s

Putting on UGG boots after a late January surf session

The New Republic

Foster’s oil cans

True love

Carpet Fresh

Sharpened #2 pencils

All day COPS marathons

Little green army men carefully guarding spicy tuna rolls at sushi dinners

“Ah ha” moments through other people’s eyes

A# chord

Uncontrollable laughter

First dates

Horatio Alger success stories

Dissonance

Harmony

Skilled tale tellers and their tales

The documentary Buy The Ticket, Take the Ride

The philosophy “buy the ticket, take the ride”

Amazing Pink Floyd covers

This SW swell and the sunset from my porch this evening at 6:42 p.m.

 

 

 

Best Experienced With:          Stone Temple Pilots;         Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s treatise in a new browser window)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMf8ejDOyf0&feature=related

 

As more and more incompetent and ridiculous candidates won their primaries from the Right Coast to the Left Coast over the past eight weeks, I have felt like the kid at the community pool whose mother made him wait three or four hours after lunch to join the rest of morons playing in the pool with their Donald Duck water wings and super soakers.             (Eat your heart out, Faulkner.)

Christine O’Donnell and Delaware was the last straw.   Watching Ms. O’Donnell enter the bloody fray is analogous to my mom holding me back while another mom tosses her blind and deaf daughter into the deep section of the pool tethered to a rope chain and eighteen cinder blocks.   “After lunch waiting rule” be damned.  It is  time to jump into all ends of the pool simultaneously with both feet.   

Game on.

White trash comes in all shapes, sizes, and forms and, much like little Max wanted to be the King of the Wild Things, this is my formal announcement that I am informally announcing my candidacy for the Emperorship of the white trash state of Florida.  Rick Scott may have the billions he stole from each and every one of us while he was raping and pillaging the Medicare system as founder and CEO of Columbia HCA< but I have something else.   Something that money cannot buy and something that will surely allow me to beat Rick Scott like a rented mule in the race for the Emperorship of Florida.

I am Irish.   We Irish are not only God’s chosen people; we have a bat-phone to God.   Should I fall behind in the polls, I will simply pick up the bat-phone, call upstairs and BOOM…God makes Mr. Scott a leper.   Regardless of how well funded a campaign is, very few people will vote for a leper.   Few constituents enjoy a noseless Emporer.

My commitment to Florida is as follows.  I will purchase at least two, possibly three, double wides and be the first Emperor of Florida to have permanent residence in Pensacola.   Three of my Pensacola evening meals each week will be pancakes and Spam and I will wear jean shorts with white tube socks/black shoes.  Once the Florida Emperorship is mine, I will embody all that is Florida.  With much further adieu, very little introspection, and as much ennui as I can muster I would like to announce my write in candidacy for Emperor of Florida.  I shall smash Rick Scott much like otters smash mollusks on the rocks off the coast of San Francisco.

Game on, indeed.

Penultimate Goal

The primary goal is not truly to be the Emperor of the finest white trash state in this great, white country.   Nope.  My real goal is relatively transparent.    The true goal is to lose the election convincingly, yet get lucrative speaking engagements, a la Sarah Palin.   

Campaign Staff

Have carefully chosen and signed up the following folks to run and manage my campaign:

King:                                       Mully

Associate King:                  JF

Partner in Crime:             Stevie J. Clark

Speech Writer:                   JF

Treasurer:                            Michael Milliken

Voter Registration:       Richard M. Dailey

Spiritual Advisor:           Malik Zulu Shabazz

Rules Advisor:                 Pete Carroll

Court Jester:                      James Carville

Advice Advisor:               Rasputin

VP of Marketing:             Patches the Dog

A few months back, I wrote a song about my Associate King’s doggy, Patches for the 2014 Mind of Mully album I’ll Be Your Emperor Penguin.   “Patches the Nuclear Physicist Brain Surgeon Puppy”  is the finest song written about a nuclear physicist brain surgeon puppy.   Patches has grown into a non-puppy.  Patches is now a marketing genius doggy.  Fortunately for our campaign, Patches agreed to run the marketing campaign for obvious reasons (see below):

 

The Campaign Strategy

My campaign platform and strategy for Emperorship of Florida will be one of positivity.   I will focus on the thing I know best in the universe and the thing I find most entertaining.    Me.

Why would I spend one minute of our valuable time together talking about Rick Scott?   All I know about Rick Scott is what I read about in the newspapers ten years ago when he resigned his CEO position a few weeks before his company Columbia HCA was convicted of the most egregious Medicare fraud in the history of the United States.   Does this make Mr. Scott a nasty billionaire crook who is not ethically fit to run the most humid state in these great United States?  Only you can decide that.

Heck, I don’t even know what Rick Scott’s favorite beer is.  How can I opine on how much Mr. Scott may cheat as a governor in Florida when I do not even know his favorite beer?    My favorite beer is Pilsner beer:  this I know for certain.   Since we are on the topic, let’s talk a little more about me.

I have never been the President  & CEO of Columbia Healthcare.    I was not a co-founder (with Richard Hightower) of Columbia HCA.   While not co-founder or CEO of Columbia HCA I was not accused of defrauding the US government and the US citizens of $1,700,000,000.     I did not become a billionaire by cheating the US taxpayers.

I have six cats.  My full back tattoo and the thirty hours of needle pricks that went into my full back piece is proof positive that I am not a sissy and can manage and lead through pain and bloodshed.   This will come in handy should we ever have a border war with Georgia after we dump too many motorcycle head injury and mad cow disease patients just over their border.   My mother’s name is Kathleen.    With a “K”.   I spent forty-eight minutes formulating my belief and policy statement:  thirty-three more minutes than most 2010 candidates spend, on average.

I read three to four newspapers per day, which means I read more newspapers in a single day than most of the other campaign participants coast to coast in all the November elections read in a single year.   This is also four billion times more newspapers than any Fox News person has ever read or ever even thought of reading.   I have never been on Twitter and will never Tweet because the magical and mystical crap flying through this mind (in concert with dozens of winged unicorns) cannot possibly be captured in 140 characters.    I eat rye toast with I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.    Spray bottles of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.   I do not suffer fools.  In fact, should reporters ask stupid questions during my forty-two day Emperor of Florida campaign, I will answer the stupid question with the following statement.   “That’s just a stupid question and I choose not to answer stupid questions.”   Then I will follow the statement with a question;

“Does anyone have a not stupid question I can answer that does not have to do with Mr. Scott clearly being a white collar criminal who is trying to buy your votes like he and Mr. Hightower bought up hospitals in the 1990’s….raping and pillaging these hospitals and closing Emergency Departments that the poor and uninsured depended on to not die?   Does anyof you have one of those questions?   Yes, you in the pink pillbox hat and cowboy boots right there in front.”

Those are the types of things my fiefdom needs to know and more information will be forthcoming over the next forty-one days.    I will continue to take the high ground and only discuss me, even if Anderson Cooper invites me to an interview.   If Mr. Cooper asks: “Mully, how does it feel to be running against a man who cheated the United States as egregiously as Enron and WorldCom did?” I will continue to stay on point and discuss me.  After handing Mr. Cooper a normal sized black tee shirt to replace the Baby Gap black tee shirt he will most certainly be wearing, I will reply:   “Let’s talk about Mully, AC because that topic is infinitely more entertaining than discussing how a common criminal was able to win the Republican primary for Emperor of Florida.”

Language

Much adieu lately about returning this great nation of ours to its original language.   I could not agree more and, when Emporer, will make certain all Florididians speak the native language.   As of January 1, all persons of all colors and all nationalities in Florida will have to speak in the local native Indian tongue as specified in the chart below.   Rosetta Stone has committed to release a special edition of Timucua, Choctaw, Apalachee, Creek and Calusa.  The rest of you are on your own.

 

Job Creation

One of the cornerstones of my campaign is creating jobs in Florida, mostly for the old people because old people in Florida must be bored senseless.   Bored and sweaty.     There’s not much for the elderly population to do in Florida and 17% of the population is over 65 in Florida.  Bored people have far too much time on their hands and bored people get testy easily.  Bored, old people will be testy and could hinder my re-election bid four years from now when I will be living high on the hog from sucking the public teet for a while.   No one needs a seventy-three year old complaining about crap four years from now.   Especially me.

Most of these elderly folks have a computer and a telephone.   Most cranky elderly folks in Nigeria and Ghana do not have a computer and a telephone and yet Nigeria beats Florida like a red headed step child when it comes to raising hundereds of millions of dollars through internet fraud.    When I am in charge of Florida, my bored, elderly population will perpetrate more internet fraud than the entire continent of Africa.    Mentally, I just added six trillion in incremental gross revenue from this job creation plan and we have not even started the job creation offense.

18,000,0000 of my loyal subjects in Florida with 17% over 65 is 3,000,000 people sending out at least 59 emails per day.  Would imagine the first paragraph in the internet fraud email my elderly posse will perpetrate hourly will look something like this:

“Having consulted with my colleagues and based on the information gathered from the Pensacola Chambers Of Commerce and Industry, I have the privilege to request your assistance to transfer the sum of $47,500,000.00 (forty seven million, five hundred thousand United States dollars) into your accounts. The above sum resulted from an over-invoiced contract, executed, commissioned and paid for about five years (5) ago by a foreign contractor. This action was however intentional and since then the fund has been in a suspense account at The Central Bank Of Pensacola Apex Bank.”

In no time at all, my new and improved Floridanian economy will surpass the UAE and Saudi Arabia’s DGP.   Combined.   This will allow us to create more jobs, mostly in the penal system.

 

Theme Songs

 

Life and all portions of life should be well themed.    Nothing themes things more thoroughly than music.  That was a solid example of euphonic alliteration.   Euphonic alliteration is another cornerstone of this campaign.

Many of us vomited a small amount in our collective mouths while watching one of our Presidents and his wife doing the white person dance to Fleetwood Mac singing “don’t stop thinking about tomorrow…..yadda, yadda.”  Ever since that evening, I have given considerable thought to the various election and election win songs that would accompany my campaign and convincing win.   As you may expect, there are many.   The top performers, in no particular order, are:

Linkin Park:                                                  “Bleed It Out”

Soul Asylum:                                               “Somebody to Shove”

Street Sweeper Social Club:             “Paper Planes”  (MIA cover)

Rancid:                                                            “Ruby Soho”

The song you cued up when you began reading, Stone Temple Pilots’ Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart is what you will hear as I approach the microphone at each campaign event over the next six weeks so you may as well learn the song from start to finish so you don’t look silly mouthing fake words during the fast parts in the mosh pit.    At the inauguration ball in Pensacola there will be no white guy dancing to Fleetwood Mac.    If I am dating the next Ms. Right, we will salsa down a circular staircase backwards to the Stone Roses Love Spreads.   Should I choose to remain single, I’ll cavort merrily down the staircase to Offspring’s Want You Bad.  Regardless, my inauguration will be magical and the Roman candle fight at the end will be the largest and most aggressive Roman candle battle ever seen in Pensacola.

Healthcare

 

As we all saw during the Presidential election two years ago, Americans were dropping dead in the street and dying painfully from cholera and hemmoragghic fever by the minute.  Although major financial institutions were being shot in the head by their VP and C-level executives daily (as they ran out the back door with wheelbarrows full of Kruggerands), healthcare was one of the top issues in the Presidential election.   Clearly, the death and disease rate continues to rise precipitously because repealing the healthcare legislation remains front and center in any political discussion, even though nothing has actually begun.   We must end this morbidity and mortality before there is no one left to vote for me. 

Florida is forty-third out of fifty states in terms of worst healthcare provided.   If I am in office for a minimum of twelve (12) years, I promise all the Floridites that we will be at least forty-second and quite possibly forty-first by 2025.   We will provide free healthcare for everyone except the following:

1.  Really fat people, because being morbidly obese is a choice
2. Those with Creutzfeld-Jacob disease because that’s a tough one to get rid of.   Florida will become a net exporter of patients with Creutzfeld-Jacob disease.    We will export them to Georgia.
3. All motorcycle riders will be insured in Georgia and all motorcycle-ly injured folks will be bused to the Georgia border on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in odd months and on Tuesday and Thursday in even months.
4. Smokers, because lung cancer, emphysema, rotten teeth, and heart disease from smoking is also a choice.  
5. Marathon runners.  Mostly because I am envious that I am unable to run a marathon and if I am unable to run a marathon, then you are not eligible for my free Florida healthcare in 2025.
6. People who choose to do stupid things like put their tongues on a frozen fire hydrant or drive drunk and get in an accident will not be covered.  These injured folks will be bussed up the Georgia border.

There is a theme of choice in my free healthcare plan; there is also a theme of subjectivity.   My mother Kathy (with a “K”) will perform all triage and make the subjective choices because she retired after a long career as a critical care nurse and VP of Nursing.  You will call Kathy up in The Land of Cleve and mom will decide whether you get treated or bussed to the Georgia border.    Periodically, mom may tell you to “man up and rub a little dirt in it.”   If that is her triage call, man up, rub a little dirt in it and get back on the field.    Mom knows her some triage and is a solid judger of stupidity.

 

 

Immediate Laws to Enact

 

As with most things in my life, I spent six minutes thinking of immediate 2011 legislation the other evening in stream of consciousness brainstorming.    Came up with the following items which I shall shove down the legislature’s collective throats in the first seventy-two hours of my Emperorship of Florida:

• You must not bring a phone or talk on a phone while walking your dog.   That is your quality time alone with your doggy and your pet deserves your undivided attention during that period.  They may find a fascinating dead thing and want you to examine it with them.  How are you going to do that when you are yapping on the phone?  No more cell phones on dog walks.

 

• You don’t talk about Fight Club

 

• Everyone taking showers at health clubs where they have group shower areas must cover themselves at all times while walking around the shower area with a Snuggie or something with at least as much cloth material.  No running around nekked or drying your hair at the sinks nekked.   That’s gross

 

• Cuba is annexed by, and becomes a suburb of, Miami

 

• All members of any Fox News channels are heading directly to the guillotine, even if they do not live in Florida.

 

• All Floridites must read all religious books (Book of Mormon, Qur’an, Bible, Torah, Bhagwad Geeta, yadda yadda ) before opining on the supriority of one religion.  This includes the Gideon Bible in the event they have a girl named Lil and get shot by a man named Dan in a saloon, running back to and collapsing in their hotel room.

 

• If you have a swimming pool on your property, you must have a manatee in that swimming pool.

 

• No one talks about Fight Club

 

• No more unicorns.   Especially the flying unicorns

 

Chelsea Lately

 

There is a very good chance that by week two of my campaign the opposition will begin a smear campaign, using things I did last month against me.    The day this smear campaign begins, I will begin dating Chelsea Lately and everyone will immediately forget about my indiscretions.    Dating Chelsea should get me through the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November unscathed in the press.  Moreover, she and I look like soul mates.  On paper, anyway.

Let the wild rumpus begin

 

 

 

 

Best Experienced With:           Hum;           Stars

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s gathering in a new browser window.   That’s a tasty little song with a significantly cool opening riff.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rfbn3ieVUYU

 

 

The Random sent a big ole school of krill off the coast of So Cal this past week.   The krill attracted a whole passel of massive blue whales and their respective dolphin and sunfish posses.    My friend Eb was out stand up paddling off of Hermosa Beach this morning with his camera and took the photos you see below.

When you combine millions of krill, a tasty song by Hum, and fifty foot long blue whales, what do you get?    An easy recipe for Shepherd’s Pie and an old school poem by Sidd Finch, may God rest his soul.    That’s easy arithmetic, even for those of us born and raised in public schools in The Land of Cleve.    Shall we begin?

 

Dream Undertaker

 

I am an artist of the mind

With words as pastels and chalk

And thoughts of canvas

Never fully drying or framed.

I am a gardener of the soul

With feelings as trowels

And pain and joy as fertilizer

Always growing and dying.

I am a magician of the heart

With rage and lust as canaries

And love and hate as the hat

I hide them in.

I am an undertaker of dreams,

Neatly cleaning the dead,

And tucking them into their space

Until they bloom anew.

Sidd Finch  (1937-1985)

 

 

 

Shepherd’s Pie

Ingredients:

1 cup quick cooking oats
3/4 cup milk
1 Tablespoon crushed beef bouillon
1 egg
2 teaspoons parsley
1 Tablespoon onion flakes
1/4 teaspoon thyme
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 pound lean ground beef
1 cup diced, cooked carrots
4 cups hot mashed potatoes
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon onion powder
8 oz. shredded cheese

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Drink a Pilsner while waiting.

2. In a large bowl, mix together the oats, milk, egg and soup mix. Add the parsley, onion flakes, pepper, thyme, beef and carrots. Mix all this up while drinking a Pilsner beer.

3. Place this mixture into a pie plate and bake for 45 minutes.  Drink a Pilsner while waiting.

4. While the beef mixture is baking, mix the onion powder and 1/4 teaspoon of black pepper with the mashed potatoes.  Drink a Pilsner while waiting.

5. Remove the meat pie from the oven and drain the fat. Sprinkle the meat crust with 6 oz. of the cheese.

6. Spread the mashed potatoes on top, sprinkle remaining cheese on top of them.   If you have bacon bits, douse entire thing with seven or eight pounds of bacon bits.    Mmmmmmmmmmm!     Bacon!

7. Eat it while drinking a Pilsner beer.    When appropriate, share with blue whales and their posse.

 

“she’s not at work, she’s not at school,  she’s not in bed…I think I finally broke her”

“i thought she’d be there holding daisies.”

“she always waits for me”

“a crumpled yellow piece of paper.   seven nines and tens”

 

 

 

Best Experienced With:     Elvis Costello;    What’s So Funny About Peace, Love & Understanding?

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s gathering in a new browser window)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3ZXdvN3orA

 

 (Radical fundamentalist Islamic violence in NYC)

 

 

 (Gandhi’s funeral pyre after being assassinated in 1948 by a radical fellow Hindu)

 

 

 (Killing fields of Cambodia:  radical Cambodian on Cambodian violence)

 

And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well.  (Matthew 5:40)

 

  (Radical Serbian against Jews violence:  Serbia, 1944)

 

 (Radical Serbian on Serbian violence:  1999)

 (Radical American on American violence:  1950’s) 

 

 

 (Radical Sudanese on Sudanese violence:  Darfur)

 

Do not say, “I’ll do to him as he has done to me; I’ll pay that man back for what he did.”   (Proverbs 24:29)

 

  (Radical Irish on Irish violence:  Sunday Bloody Sunday)

 

   (Radical American on American violence:  Sunday Bloody Sunday in Selma, Alabama)

 

  (Radical Rwandan on Rwandan violence:  1994)

 

  (Radical Chinese on Chinese violence:  1989)

 

But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.   (Matthew 5:39)

 

 

Never forget, yet still act in a fashion every minute of every day that models the way and leads everyone away from the scenes above (Mully: 3.1415926535897932)

 

 

Best Experienced With:          The Housemartins;        Sheep

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s treatise.  No one should ever burn any book…..ever.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIWOhisqrP8

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “When you see a cane I see a crock.”  “When you see a crowd I see a flock.” It is sheep we are up against, indeed.   The Housemartins:  accept no substitutes when looking for intelligent political, satirical, lyrical stylings and beautiful music.   Hostess Ho-Ho’s:  accept no substitutes when looking for a snack cake.      Martin Niemoller:  accept no substitutes when you feel the need for real.  

 

 

 

 

Als die Nazis die Kommunisten holten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Kommunist. 

Als sie die Sozialdemokraten einsperrten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Sozialdemokrat.

Als sie die Gewerkschafter holten,
habe ich nicht protestiert;
ich war ja kein Gewerkschafter.

Als sie die Juden holten,
habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Jude.

Als sie mich holten,
gab es keinen mehr, der protestierte.

 

(Mr. Vernon from Illinois wants to burn Bender)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Shermer High School,  Shermer, Illinois, 60062.

Dear Reverend Jones,

We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong but we think you’re crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us; in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a Muslim, an atheist, a Jew, a Buddhist and a Hindu. Correct? That’s the way we saw each other at 7:00 a.m. this morning.        We were brainwashed.

(Dr. Jones from Florida wants to burn Qur’ans)

 

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn’t a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

 

 

 

Best Experienced With:          Marianne Faithfull;        Ballad of Lucy Jordan

(Please right click on the link below to cue up the suggested background music for this evening’s treatise)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KV-PTK0UZ4

 

 

Promised something by this evening on Nashian economic theory, fractals, and gaming theory.   Had something relatively spiffy written on The Prisoner’s Dilemma with Hostess Snack Cakes as the reward.  There was also an “if…then” gaming simulation using Nash’s equilibrium where it was you and Carrot Top working on the optimum cumulative payout with HGH, dianabol and plastic surgery.    

Had to set that one aside when I saw Doreen Carvajal’s article in the New York Times this evening.  Titled “In Belgium. Ex-Cardinal Says Abuser Misled Him”, Ms. Carvajal’s article was about, shocker, pedophile priests.   More precisely, the article was about how the former leader of the Catholic Church in Belgium tried to suppress a man’s testimony of his serial sexual abuse at the hands of one of Belgium’s Catholic priests.   Cardinal Danneels is on tape trying to talk the family out of making the sexual abuse public.  

Shocker.   Who woulda thunk it?

Each new week brings several dozen new visitors here and each month we lose a few dozen through the thinning of the herd.   It’s always good to thin the herd.  Tonight we will thin those Catholics who choose to turn a blind eye to the supression of pedophile priests.   

 

While my sainted mother remains a deacon in her Catholic church, am relatively certain she will not be in the thinned portion of the herd.   Mom embraces my kicking the Catholic Church to the curb and in the teeth.  Mom and I have agreed to disagree and hug it out for years.  I feel sorry for mom because she has to hang out with the pedophile hiders, yet love her no less today than before I chose to move on up to a Disciples of Christ church where we stone pederasts in the parking lot each Sunday at 10:23 a.m.   Spent most of my my life as a Catholic, making me uniquely qualified to opine on the silliness below, especially the Catholic Church jumping of the shark.

On September 22, 1977 the writers of “Happy Days” ruined the television series forever by having Fonzie don water skis and jump a shark.   Not only did this take suspension of disbelief into a completely different dimension, it was just plain stupid.    First of all, very few 1950 Milwaukee auto mechanics knew how to water ski in open ocean, let alone  possess the skills to jump a shark their first time on water skis.  Second, I have lived in California for fifteen years and have yet to see a live shark in a pen anywhere near a California pier.  One would think the probability of this happening in 1950 would be significantly lower than in 2010.   Thirdly, Fonzie was wearing a leather jacket and, again, that’s just plain stupid.

Jumping the shark.    What a fantastic phrase.

There was a worldwide uproar in the mid 1990’s when many credible news agencies reported that Nike Corporation used “slave” labor in Pakistan and Cambodia to manufacture our shoes and whatnot.   More important, Nike very hypocritically began a “woman power” marketing campaign in their largest market, the United States, while still opening factories in misogynistic countries with less than stellar human rights history when it comes to women and children.

While these revelations were supposed to be Nike’s “jumping the shark”, no one really paid too much attention and Anderson Cooper only did a single twelve minute episode on Nike, clad in a painted on black tee shirt.   Again, shocker.  Ever the fan of voting my conscience using my wallet, I have chosen to not purchase Nike since Nike chose to jump into my mental bucket labeled “hypocrites”.  

The Catholic Church first jumped the shark in the mid 1990’s when the Boston Globe first reported on egregious hiding and moving of pedophile priests.  Over the past fifteen years, we have all read about similarly egregious behavior in our largest cities.

Numbers and facts back up the Catholic Church shark jumping escapades.  Published in 2002, the John Jay Report listed the following:

• 10,667 reports of sexual abuse against minors from 1950 through 2002
• 149 priests (out of the 4,392) committed 26% of the reported abuse
• 143 priests had sexual abuse allegations in more than one diocese because they were moved.  
• 1 priest was moved 4 times and abused a child each time
• Few incidents were reported to the police
• 81% of the abuse victims were male
• The vast majority of the victims were post pubescent
• 51% of the abuse victims were between 11 and 14
• More than half of the detailed sexual abuse happened for more than a single year
• Roughly 20% of the reported abuse spanned two to five years.   After being reported.

 

 

One of the best books in recent years is Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower.   Some compare it to The Catcher in the Rye, although I am holding out hope that serial killers and those wishing to murder ex Beatles do not abandon Catcher for Perks.  That would ruin Perks for me and many others.  The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a masterful, clever read:  pick it up for a plane ride or a beach day.  You are welcome.

Midway through the book is a poem.    This is the poem.   You are welcome.

once on a yellow piece of paper,

he wrote a poem

and he called it “chops”

because that was the name of his dog.

and that’s what it was about

and his teacher gave him an A

and a gold star

and his mother hung it on the door

and read it to his aunts

that was the year father tracy

took all the kids to the zoo

and let them sing on the bus

that was the year his little sister was born

with tiny toenails and no hair

and his mother and father kissed a lot

and the girl around the corner sent him a

valentine signed with a row of x’s

and he had to ask his father what the x’s meant

and his father always tucked him in at night

and was always there to do it

once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

he wrote a poem called “autumn”

because that was the name of the season

and that’s what it was all about

and his teacher gave him an A

and asked him to write more clearly

and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because of its new paint

and the kids told him

that father tracy smoked cigars

and left butts on the pews

and sometimes they would burn holes

that was the year his sister got glasses

with thick lenses and black frames

and the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see santa claus

and the kids told him why

his mother and father kissed a lot

and his father never tucked him in at night

and got mad

when he cried for him to do it

once on a piece of paper torn from his notebook

he wrote a poem

called “innocence; a question”

because that was the question about his girl

and that’s what is was all about

and his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look

and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

becaue he never showed her

that was the year that father tracy died

and he forgot how the end

of apostle’s creed went

and he caught his sister

making out on the back porch

and his mother and father never kissed

or even talked

and the girl around the corner

wore too much makeup

that made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway

because that was the thing to do

and at three a.m he tucked himself into bed

his father snoring soundly

that’s why on the back of a brown paper bag

he tried another poem

and he called it “absolutely nothing”

because that’s what it was really about

and he gave himself an A

and a slash on each damned wrist

and he hung it on that bathroom door

because he didn’t think

he could reach the kitchen

Michael Ungalo killed himself on May 4, 2010.   His family subsequently filed a wrongful death lawsuit against the Catholic diocese of Pittsburgh because Mr. Ungalo was molested for several years by Richard Dorsch, the priest at his church:  All Saints Church.  Pedophile Father Dorsch was later defrocked and imprisoned after he was convicted of abusing another boy.  Here is Mr. Ungalo’s obituary:

Age 39, of New York City. Beloved son, brother, uncle and friend died suddenly May 4, 2010. He will be dearly missed and fondly remembered for his passion, intelligence, adventurous spirit, humor, generosity, creativity and deep love of family and friends. Michael graduated with honors from the University of Pennsylvania, where he served on the Student Committee on Undergraduate Education and as President of Alpha Phi Delta fraternity. An accomplished copywriter, avid runner and seasoned traveler, Michael completed three marathons. Friends will be received MONDAY evening from 6-9pm at WORRELL FUNERAL HOME, INC., corner of Main and Ninth Sts. Sharpsburg. Funeral Service will be conducted TUESDAY at 11am from Christ Episcopal Church, 5910 Babcock Blvd. Pittsburgh, PA 15237. Interment will be private. In lieu of flowers, contributions can be made to the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children or to Autism Speaks.

 

Perhaps one of the finest lines in any book pops up in Mr. Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower.   “We accept the love we think we deserve.”  Nike has most likely never been played a strong role in the formative years of any child.   I have yet to meet a twenty-three year old who through it would be a fantastic idea to open a Malaysian sweat shop because that’s what their role model Nike did when they were twelve.    Would imagine that if Nike Corporation hid thousands of pedophile employees around the world, Nike would be out of business today.  Why is the Catholic Church still in business when there are hundreds of church alternatives available?   Economically, does the Catholic Church have inelastic demand curves?

If you committed an act as egregious as molesting a child at your company’s Omaha, Nebraska facility, what are the odds that your company would move you to your Jacksonville,. Florida facility?    Zero?   Less than zero?    If A, then B.  If B, then C.

If A, then C.

Abusers tend to abuse others because it is a learned behavior.   An awful, learned behavior that takes years of intense therapy to unlearn.  At the very least, these priests caused thousands of their parishioners to have less than ideal adult relationships with their significant others.  As we have seen over the past few years (what Pope Benedict chose to do in Germany, the Belgian ex Cardinal, ad infinitum & ad nauseum), the 10,667 reports of sexual abuse against minors in the John Jay report is a microcosm of what has gone on for decades, known to the Catholic Church. 

The system should have been there for these 10,667 folks and, moreover, the institution should have most certainly created a safe and secure environment for all to worship.   These children were not only victimized by the pedophile priests, they were victimized all the way up to a position I once believed to be infallible, The Pope.

Hiding pedophile priests is more stupid than a 1950’s Milwaukee auto mechanic jumping a shark on waterskis in a pen off the California coast while wearing a leather jacket.    That’s a whole lotta stupid.

 

Those of you wishing to read the John Jay report in its entirety can find it at the link below.   I read it cover to cover this evening and it is riveting.   Disgusting, yet riveting.  Unlike Fox News, I actually do all my research before vomiting words onto a keyboard. 

http://www.usccb.org/nrb/johnjaystudy/

 

Those of you wishing to see Catholic pedophile priest reports from around the world, feel free to visit the following links:

Ireland:

http://www.cnn.com/2010/CRIME/03/17/ireland.abuse.abroad/index.html

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8578064.stm

Nigeria

http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/ireland/2010/0601/1224271588331.html

Belgium

http://ncronline.org/blogs/ncr-today/belgium-anti-pedophile-priest-rips-silence-and-omissions-bishops

The North Pole

http://www.northpole.com/

Germany

http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/0,1518,620925,00.html

Italy (Italy is chock full)

http://www.traditioninaction.org/HotTopics/a01t_PedophiliaItaly.html

Thanks for joining tonight.    If you would like to join me at a non-pedophile hiding church, please meet me at 10:43 Sunday morning at the Pacific Beach Christian Church….directions are below.   I tend to show up a little late because of all the touching and hugging they do in the first thirteen minutes.    I get enough of that in mosh pits and such.   At our church we have black people and white people, liberals and conservatives, gay couples and straight couples.   No pedophile priests, though.   We tend to frown on that behavior and although we “open wide our hearts to God and one another”…………we don’t open our hearts wide to pedophile priests.  We bludgeon them.  If anyone has a shotgun in their car, we’ll kneecap them, too.

You have to draw a line somewhere, you know?

http://www.pbchristian.com/

 

Still here?   The second best line from The Perks of Being a Wallflower?  Good question.   Here’s the answer.    “I feel infinite….”

 Good night.

 

 

Best Experienced With:   Alanis Morissette;       You Oughta Know

(Please right click the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s gathering in a new browser window.   You really should open the song if you normally just read here because the Godzilla slippers move to the music and the sing along aspect of this evening’s get together is pointless without the music.  Unless you sing really, really well a cappella.   Not just in your car, because everyone sings well in their car…I mean that you truly sing well a cappella.   Few can.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UEWbTxmG9o

Was driving around Oregon this morning listening to Alanis Morissette and, for obvious reasons, thought of three things.  First, a new goal for the next twelve months is to sing You Oughta Know at a karaoke bar.    A punk version of You Oughta Know, channeling Sid Vicious.  Second thought while listening to Alanis whine about her break up was that before the week is up the Mind of Mully needs a get together on Nashian economic models and traditional gaming theory’s role in bargaining and negotiating.   Come back Thursday or Friday if you’re interested in gaming theory and fractals.

Third, and most important, we have not had a sing a long up here in months.   Please get in a big circle and let’s have an Alanis sing along.   Those of you without rhythm, please follow the Godzilla slippers.   Thanks, Ty!    Animation by Ty…….slippers by an underwater nuclear disaster + a lizard……..music by Alanis relationship angst…….inspiration Route 205 boredom.      Go.

I want you to know I’m happy for you
I wish nothing but the best for you both
Blah, blah, blah, blah
Is she perverted like me
Would she yadda yadda yadda yadda, yadda?
Does she speak eloquently
And would she blah blah blah
I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother

‘Cause the love that you gave that we made
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you’d hold me
Until you died, ’til you died
But you’re still alive

And I’m here to yadda yadda yadda
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to blah, blah, blah
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

You seem very well, things look peaceful
I’m not quite as well, I thought you should know
Did you forget about me Mr. Duplicity?
Yadda, yadda, yaddda, yadda, yadda, yadda
It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced
And are you blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah?

‘Cause the love that you gave that we made
Yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you’d hold me
Until you died, ’til you died
But you’re still alive

And I’m here to yadda yadda yadda
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to blah, blah, blah
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

‘Cause the joke that you laid in the bed that was me
And I’m not gonna fade as soon as you close your eyes
Blah, blah, blah
And every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back
I hope you feel it…yadda, yadda, yadda

And I’m here to blah, blah, blah, blah
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to yadda yadda yadda
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

 

And I’m here to yadda yadda yadda
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair to blah, blah, blah
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

(Sing-a-Long Night in The Attic)

Boa…voluntary.  Pilsner…mandatory

Best Experienced With:   Delta Spirit;       Bushwick Blues

 

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background song in a new browser window.   That’s a heck of a song.   I think my cousin Bo Koster helped Delta Sprit out on this tune.   My cousin Bo is an immensely talented musician.  Was blessed with one heck of a family and one heck of an appetite for malt beverages)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgPJdr6dBoI

 

The Bonnie & Clyde litter:  June 24 to August 28, 2010.   Started with quite a few, some got adopted by God very early on….ended up with a great pair.    They are available for adoption as of 4:40 p.m. today at the PetSmart in Point Loma, California.   Take them as a pair and they’ll make you laugh like a hyena all day long.   Scout’s honor.

 

 

 (adopted by God early on…and playing with catnip mice in heaven)

 

 

somewhere i have never travelled

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

                                                                            e. e. cummings (1894-1962)

 

love is more thicker than forget

love is more thicker than forget

more thinner than recall

more seldom than a wave is wet

more frequent than to fail

it is more mad and moonly

and less it shall unbe

than all the sea which only

is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win

less never than alive

less bigger than the least begin

less littler than forgive

it is most sane and sunly

and more it cannot die

than all the sky which only

is higher than the sky

                                      e. e. cummings (1894-1962)

 

 

 

 

 

 

may my heart always be open to little

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

                                e. e. cummings (1894-1962)

 

 

 

 

 

Bonus Sales & Marketing Negotiating Lesson:     Was going to carry this to the grave, yet am feeling magnanimous this evening.  Going to share this tonight and not take it to the grave.   You are welcome.   There is a well known and much written about concept in negotiating strategy called “walk away power”.  If you are in sales or marketing, you have the full accountability and responsibility for negotiating for your company.  

Taken as a given, you should always negotiate from a position of strength.  If you are not negotiating from a position of strength you will most certainly make a bad deal for your company and will not enhance shareholder value.  As a sales and marketing professional, your job is not to get orders.   A monkey can get orders and a monkey is far less expensive than you.   Your job as a sales and marketing professional is to get the  right orders:  the orders that enhance shareholder value.  Anyone can say “yes” to everything, it takes a business professional to use the power of a positive “no” to make the right deals and increase company value for your shareholders.

Walk away power is the ability to stand up during any negotiation, politely thank the other party and confidently say “I am sorry that we cannot agree on __________ and I am choosing to end this discussion.   Thank you for the opportunity to meet with you and I wish you the best of luck in everything you do.”    Then, just shut up and leave.     When you lose your walk away power, you have effectively lost objectivity and your ability to balance the needs of your company.   Furthermore, whatever negotiation choices you make will be bad ones.  Your choices and your concessions will not enhance shareholder value.    Best choice is to leave.

Here’s what I was going to take to the grave.   I have never lost my walk away power in any negotiation and have left the room many times over the years.   90% of the time, have been called back to the table the next day because the other party will respect you far more if you make good business decisions during the the course of the negotiations.   Standing up and politely leaving will get you far more respect than stammering “but, but, but, but” and then dropping your price for the thirteenth time.  I can hire a slew of trained monkeys to make price concessions each time a purchasing person states “that’s too expensive” and, as mentioned earlier, monkeys are low cost alternatives to a professional sales team. 

I have not fostered litters of kitten for fourteen years because I am an animalitarian.   I have fostered litters of kittens for fourteen years because they make me laugh like a hyena and dropping them off at the adoption center on the last day makes me the strongest negotiator you will ever meet.  If you bottle feed one week old kittens through to twelve weeks and are able to turn your back on the picture directly below this and walk out without looking back, you will never have trouble standing up in a negotiation and saying:   “I am sorry that we cannot agree on __________ and I am choosing to end this discussion.   Thank you for the opportunity to meet with you and I wish you the best of luck in everything you do.”    Have never had trouble walking away from a deal and have negotiated very few poor deals from a position of non-strength.

That’s the offense, sales and marketing professionals.   Go get yourself hooked up with a local rescue group Monday morning and find yourself some puppies or kittens to foster for ten to twelve weeks.  Start honing your negotiating skills and building up your walk away power.  You have my word that each time you drop off a litter your walk away power skills will grow exponentially.   Thanks for visiting tonight and enjoy your animal rescue adventures and negotiating adventures in the future.

(Friends of County Animal Shelters (FOCAS) adoption center…August 28, 2010.  Bonnie & Clyde moving on up..)

 

Best Experienced With:    Saul Williams;      List of Demands

(Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s gathering.  A banging little song by Saul Williams.   Very tasty tune.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXzK0AFpmcI

 

The midterm elections are upon us and shaping up to be the most amusing and least substantive elections in the history of mankind, dogkind, or sheepkind.  Moreover, the blood bath is shaping up to be the best the world has seen since the 1520 Stockholm Bloodbath.  Clearly defined expectations from minute one tends to alleviate conflict down the road.    Off with her head.   Please pass the popcorn.     Thank you.

List of Demands:  Career Adventure Partners

• Work hard
• Work smart
• Learn something new each day
• Say what you mean and mean what you say
• Put your family before your career
• Increase shareholder value

 

List of Demands:  Significant Others

• Make me laugh
• Challenge me
• Teach me things
• Say what you mean and mean what you say
• Tell me who you are
• Enjoy the rye toast and popcorn I cook for you

 

 

List of Demands:  2010 Political Office Candidates

• Educate the children
• Increase available jobs
• Say what you mean and mean what you say
• Take care of the disenfranchised and dispossessed
• Tell us what you believe
• Tell us what you are going to do

 

List of Demands:  Saul Williams

• He wants his money back
• He’s down here drowning in your fat
• He’s not afraid of you
• He’s just a victim of your fear
• If you ain’t dead, just sing along
• Bang and strum this here drum

 

 

Ecstasy suffering

Echinacea buffering

We aim to remember

What we choose to forget

 

God’s just a baby and Her diaper is wet…………..

Rick Scott…put on your helmet, you evil bastard.  I’m moving to Florida next week and am the write in candidate who is going to take you down in the gubernatorial race.   See you soon.   Bring your “A” game and some Nu-Skin.