Friday, April 23, 2010

BREAKING NEWS! OBAMA SECURITY TIGHTENED; LEVEL RED

The CIA has tightened security around Obama due the increased number of prayers that have been sent asking for his early demise. The text of the prayer, which has gone viral, reads:

"DEAR LORD, THIS YEAR YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTOR, PATRICK SWAYZIE. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTRESS, FARAH FAWCETT. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE SINGER, MICHAEL JACKSON. I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE PRESIDENT IS BARACK OBAMA. AMEN"
“Its not just Swayze, Fawcett and Jackson Fans anymore” said Leon Panneta “It seems to have crossed over into anyone that has a beef with the President on issues ranging from Health Care to his Nobel peace Prize Award. Even people who have never prayed before are down on their knees.”

Obama has been portrayed as The Anti-Christ, a Socialist of the order of Joseph Stalin, a Muslim Extremist Covert Operative that has infiltrated the highest office of our land with an agenda to slowly remove Christmas Trees, Easter Bunnies, Girl Scouts and Deep-Dish Apple pie from our way of life.

ABC analyst and Ex-CIA consultant Richard Clarke surmises that Obamas latest plan to cancel the National Day of Prayer may have aggravated the hostility towards him.
“I’m not sure what can be done to thwart a prayer attack, as the results of prayers can be difficult to predict, but for those in charge of protecting the President, the dangers cannot be taken too lightly” Clarke was reported to have said.

Joyce Meyers downplays the threat, saying only that ‘It isn’t a very good prayer. It is not a good prayer at all. Somebody say “Amen”.”

HERE OBAMA DELIVERS A NUCLEAR SHOE-BOMB TO IRAN

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

GREAT LINES FROM PRISON LETTERS

"When I got here I thout about her and sis and Mom a lot I gess because thay razed me and no matter what people think they done a good job!"

Friday, April 16, 2010

LIVE AT THE FILMORE

We spilled out of the VW Microbus and into the parking lot of the Filmore West, kidneys bursting and filled with excitement to see Ten Years After, hoping to rock out to a 45 minute version of "Skoobly-Oobley-Doobob" or “Choo-Choo Mama”. I had never been to San Francisco before, but Buckman claimed to have been to Haight-Ashbury during the Summer of Love in 1967.

“I know this city like the back of my hand” he had said, and true to his word, Buckman had successfully navigated us admirably 1700 miles from Fort Worth, past the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, through Los Alamos and the radioactive White Sands Atomic Testing Grounds, from Tuscon to Tucumcari as the weed, whites, and wine kicked in, past the Grand Canyon of the Rockies and up through the Sierra Nevadas and Yosemite before dropping down into the San Francisco Bay area.
Funny thing was, the Parking Lot at the Filmore West was empty but for our VW Microbus and an old toothless woman with a shopping cart.
Buckman says“Where are all the people?”
“Maybe we are a day early”
“I don’t think so” and Buckman pulls out his ticket. “Yeah it’s the right date man, but we are supposed to be at the Filmore East. Maybe that’s over in Oakland.
“No dipshit, the Filmore East is in Manhattan!”
And we both just cracked up laughin’.
Stoned again.


MISSED IT BY 3000 MILES

Tuesday, April 13, 2010


"Packin' my bags movin' to misty mountain"

Tuesday, April 06, 2010

"Gaiety is the most outstanding feature of the Soviet Union."

J.STALIN
"Who's going to remember all this riff-raff in ten or twenty years time? No one. Who remembers the names now of the boyars Ivan The Terrible got rid of? No one."

I was dreaming that I was the Chief Architect of Joseph Stalin's efforts to rewrite history by casting him in a more favorable light. In the dream, he always kept his back to me, looking out his window towards Gorky Park. He tasked me with reducing the number of deaths attributed to his policies from 60 million down to a mere 2 million.
I told Stalin that it would be impossible to get the number below 4 million, and that there was no way we could blame Trotsky for the demise of Russian Orthodox Church and the Godless state we were now in.
At last he turned around to order me off to some frozen Gulag and there he was...
My friend Bobby!
Bobby! You killer!
I woke up, laughin' my Bolshevic ass off!


Here's my friend Bobby in his Stalin uniform barely able to contain his gaeity.

FORGIVENESS


"Sometimes its easier to get forgiveness than permission"

Saturday, April 03, 2010

SEPARATION, SIN AND ATONEMENT

SEPARATION, 1961
We were lined up at the starting line when the man fired the pistol.
I took off clean, then fell and scuffed my knee in my little Easter shorts, ripping my jacket as well. I thought my chances were slim, but I recovered and ran like a deer, scooping up candy and eggs into my basket like Deon Sanders on a loose ball.
Before long I was way out in front of everybody.
There was a line of trees in front of me.
Then I found it! The Grand Prize of the Easter Egg Hunt! The worlds biggest Chocolate Bunny! It must have been 2 feet tall.
It came with $20 and I got my picture made with the Governor and Miss Texas, 1961. I looked out over the crowd from on the stage, all those kids out there with their little Easter Baskets and sad envious looks on their faces. They were all looking at me.
I’d have gladly given that Chocolate Bunny away.
It seemed like all the kids hated me forever after that.

SIN, 1962
That Easter of 1961 was the first time I truly felt separated from other people.
And it was all because I found that damned Grand Prize Bunny.
I can still see the pouty little envious faces of all the kids there that day.
I can still feel the anger and resentment of all those little child hearts as I stood between the Governor and Miss Texas, holding 4 pounds of Chocolate Rabbit, getting my picture taken.

Make no mistake about it, us humans learn to hate and resent and despise at a very early age.
We also learn to feel separated, isolated and alone.

Anyway, over the years Easter did not get much better for me.

The next year, in 1962, my little sister got a little baby chick that the Easter Bunny brought for her. It was dyed pink and I do not know what future it may have had if me and the big kid from across the street had not got a hold of it. His name was Dan, and he and I took an Axe and cut the little birds head off and buried it in the front yard. Later that evening, when the chick came up missing, I lied and said I knew nothing about the whereabouts of my sisters little pink chicky.
It was a mystery, but mystery’s never last too long in my life.
The very next day my dad pulled out a Rototillerto prepare the yard for sod found that little chick , headless and buried in the front yard.
Busted.
I got a whuppin’ all right, even though it had not been my idea, nor had I held the axe, or dug the hole or placed the little chicky in its grave.
No, I had not done any of that, but I understood fully that I had been a most willing and delighted accomplice to this macabre little episode.

What I did not understand at the time was that I would never really ever get away with anything my whole life long.

ATONEMENT, THE WORSE DAY OF MY LIFE, EASTER 1966
Yes, Easter has been a tough holiday for me.
The year after Dan and I murdered my sisters little Easter Chick, my family moved to Detroit. In 1966 we flew to Texas for vacation at Easter time. Our return flight back to Detroit was late in the day on Easter Sunday.
My little sister, who 4 years prior had lost that poor little chick, was about to pay me back for the vile deed.
Early Easter morning she went to the little nest that our mom and dad always had us make to find what the Easter Bunny had left.
There was a huge yellow Easter Basket, about 4 feet tall, with all that fake green grass spilling out, and all those marshmallow Rabbits, and Candy Eggs, Stuffed Bunnies, with little feathered bird-toys going all around the handle, all wrapped in clear-green cellophane.
It was enormous, totally cute and bigger than she was.


It could not be checked as baggage, and it was way too big for my sister to carry.
Do you know what that meant?
It was time to atone for the murder of that Baby Chick 4 years earlier.
I had to carry that Basket through the Dallas Love Feild and onto the plane!
I was 10 years old, all boy, and I’d rather have died a thousand deaths than to carry that very gay and bright pastel pink and yellow nightmare.
I was embarrassed, I was pissed, and what I found was that if I tilted that basket the wrong way music would play right out of one of those stuffed bunnies arses.

“Here comes Peter Cottontail
Hoppin' down the bunny trail
Hippity-Hoppity
Easters on its way”

I was daggers!
Daggers!
DAGGERS!

Women and little girls in line to board would compliment me on what a nice Easter Basket I had.
It seemd like the whole Airport was smiling and pointing at me.
I would scowl. I was almost in tears. I wanted to kill somebody.
DAGGERS!
And when I looked to my Mother, she would just give me that look like I better not say a thing.
I could not wait for this plane to hippity-hoppity off the ground and land in Detroit.
But that would prove to be too good to be true.
What I found, as part of my atonement for the sins of Easter Past, was that we had a three-hour layover in the lobby at Chicago O’Hare!
DAGGERS!

It was the worse day of my life.


HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!