You Say You Want A Revelation, Well Ya Know (another sick bastard bible selection)

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part one

The last one picked is the one no one really wants on the team and Revelations was the last one picked for the Bible. Coincidence? Maybe, or maybe Revelations was too fat, too slow, or too uncoordinated or no one liked it. Maybe it jut flat out sucked! Of course there’s only one way to find out. Investigation. So here it comes the Christian Scripture Investigators. The CSI team is here to find the DNA and other forensic tidbits hidden in the scriptures. Maybe even trace elements like epithelia’s, fingerprints, or secret documents to uncover the truth behind the book of all things. This episode we will investigate the truth behind the final frontier of the bible, revelations.
The main players in this tale of apocalyptic reckoning are somewhat questionable. Written by John of Pathos where he was known as the pathological prophet of Pathos. The story as he tells it includes the four headless horsemen of Sleepy Hollow, the Liar of Judah, angels, trumpeters, the beast, a dragon, a false prophet, an arched angel, and of course no bible story would be complete without a whore, this one straight outta Babylon.
The book of revelations is somewhat difficult to tell because its told in some unusual circumstances. The story was revealed to this tripped out dude John, who was locked up in prison in Pathos on a drug related beef. He was a prolific writer who had already had a number of stories published in the New Testament. A few under the epistle category, and a gospel song called Psalm 43 (The P has the right to remain silent). Many religious scholars say it was actually 3 different Johns but if I get into bible discrepancies I’ll never get to this investigation. The truth as he told it to me goes like this. One evening while studying in the prison library John had a visitor. A woman who looked alarming similar to Mary Magdalene though she denies it three times. This visitor had placed a very powerful tab or two of LSD (legal at that time) in her mouth and transferred it to Johns mouth in a disgusting public display of spit swapping French kisses. A face sucking tongue tangoing, snog toggle, The ultimate French kiss whose true purpose was to exchange the hallucinogenic treat. When John got back to his cell, and after his bulge subsided (Really don’t drop the soap now!!) he was visited and told a story by god. I had a similar reverse episode once, after ingesting a chemical mind tickler I learned that god took some acid and saw me! Another day.
So during his intense peeking (I think that’s what people on acid trips call it when the trip hit’s a crescendo), that was when god suddenly said to John, “Dude, you wanna hear about the future of mankind?” Stupid question, of course he did. He was tripping after all. So this story was how John best remembered the telling some 18 hours after the acid wore off. That’s some powerful shit there! This is the book of Reservations. Reverberation. Revolution. ….Sorry, The Book of Revelations!
Here it is in his very own paraphrased words as he told it to me one day back in the late 60’s:
“So Mary and I kissed and I could feel two tabs of something on her tongue. Yea I know she said it wasn’t her but she just didn’t want to end up on the front page of the Abraham Inquirer. An let me tell you the J-man was one lucky Jew she was one helluva kisser. Anyway She tells me to swallow, something you don’t normally wanna hear in prison, so I swallows the tab. Then she tells me I just took two tabs of Blue Cheer acid. Man I was stoked. I smiled all the way back to my cell knowing what was coming. I got to my cell and laid down on my stone cot. After about a half hour I hear this voice. I sit up an look around but there ain’t no one there. So I lays back down when the voice comes back, this time calling me by name. So I shout who’s that, who’s there? And the voice says ‘Its me John, God.’ Now I’m thinking it must be the acid kickin’ in right? I mean the voice was like soft and almost girly. Not the powerful deep voice you’d think God would have but he insists. ‘Really John, its me God’ Then he steps out from the shadows and sure enough it is God. Amazing how much Jesus looked like him. Spittin’ image. What else could I do? I sez, whats up God?”
“He walks through the bars, I mean right through, like they wasn’t even there. Then he sez, ‘John, I want to tell you a story. I want you to write it down and make sure everyone reads it.’ I sez to him, you mean like a bestseller or something? To which he replies, ‘yea, something like that. But first try and get the story into the bible, because this is the story of the beginning and the end.’ Now I’m really thinking the acid is slamming the insides of my brain but I figger I should like play along and sez yea yea sure Mr. Almighty, whatever you sez.”
“When I first created everything I had seven arch angels to watch over heaven and protect it. Six of these arches were cool, but one arch angel was just a real pain in the ba-donk-a-donk. Has to do everything his way and refused to follow my directions. Finally one day I caught him in bed with Gabriel’s teenage daughter and that was the last straw. I tossed his ass out and straight down to earth along with one third of the questionable residents of heaven. He went down to earth with them and they formed a gang calling themselves the Crypts. He goes to the garden of Eden and begins recruiting humans for his gang. So I had Gabriel, a very trusted angel form a gang up here because I knew there would someday be a major showdown. He formed the Bloods of my blood, after my sons prophecy. We call them the Bloods for short, and it created a rivalry that would be the mother of all rivalries. Positive vs. Negative, Life vs. Death, Good vs. Evil, Bloods vs. Crypts. One day we would have our gang lords get together for an epic showdown. This showdown will be called The Rapture.”
“Now I’m still tripping but I’m starting to think maybe this shit is real so I keep scraping away on my stones getting down his words so I could one day write the book for him. Being an ancient journalist of course I had questions, so I asks him to explain to me how this Rapture thing is gonna go down. Then something happens that may sound like a fairy tale or a hallucination. He floats up to the ceiling an sez come on up John it will be easier if I show you”
Now I’m flipping ya know? I’m like how the fuck am I supposed to get up there, but before I even thought about a strategy I was lifted off my feet and floating right next to him. Honest to god, from Gods mouth to my ear he whispers, ‘Watch this. These guys can really stir it up’ A light went on and I swear to you it looked like a giant flat screen TV in HD. The images seemed so real. There was a stage with seven musicians. Al Hirt,Loius Armstrong,Wynton Marsalas, Miles Davis,Chuck Mangione,Maynard Fererson, and Dizzy Gillespie. Not just ordinary musicians each stood with a trumpet in their hands. The seven Trumpeters. They jammed for about an hour and that’s when the real show started!”

Weiner Lets It All Hang Out

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Weiner Takes Da Bait
No the real headline is not Weiner takes debate, but he was feisty as hell so if you missed it on TV I have my own re-cap here. The front runner is Christine Quinn and Weiner was in Christine’s face throughout the debate. Bill Thompson stood tall and was inching closer but Weiner measured up. Public Advocate Bill de Blasio hammered away at Weiner’s ability to represent the people of New York but he assured everyone that Weiner will stand up for all New Yorkers. Comptroller John Liu expressed concern over Anthony’s transparency to which Tony replied “I have always been transparent. Anyone can see where Weiner stands.” The stage set, on to the debate.
First Weiner’s opening statement. “My name is Anthony Weiner, no relation to Oscar Meyer Weiner, and I am running for mayor because I have swag, and as recent tweeted evidence has shown I have the balls needed to run this city. True my pole has been sagging, um, I mean I have been sagging in the poll numbers but with a little help from my constituents it’ll get it back up again. I know my past indiscretions keep popping up but just to be clear no matter how hard it gets I will not pull out. I’ll stick it out as long as I can. I intend to show New Yorkers everything I’ve got. New York City is a hard town and they need a hard mayor which is what I‘ll be when erected. Oops, I mean elected, a slight boner in my choice of words. Anyway, New York is full of danger and trust me I know danger. In fact my middle name is Danger, so vote for me, Anthony “Carlos Danger” Weiner. Thank you.
The greeting was met with a splattering. That is a splattering of applause and a few Bronx cheers. Now on to a condensed re-cap of the issues. The first subject was the stop and frisk law.
Quinn : “ I’m okay with the frisking but not the stopping, if I’m elected they will have to frisk while the random pedestrian is still moving. New York is a busy town.”
De Blasio : “My wife is black and my son is half black with a big ass afro to prove it, so it could be my son with a cops hand down his pants. No to frisking”
Thompson : “What the hell, are we truly going to allow our police officers to act like TSA agents? This is America where no one is randomly searched unless they are in a busy airport. Just like the large soda and the poop pick up law Mayor Bloomberg saw the poop on the sidewalk and overstepped again.”
Liu :“I’ve seen this epic fail in Chinatown. If they continue to act on this dumb law everybody will be Kung Fu fighting, which is a little bit frightening.
Weiner :“From the beginning I stated cops should wear cameras and I stand by that. I say frisk like nobody’s watching, but take a selfie to send to that special someone.”
On to the next issue, a viewer question, a matter of trust. directed to Weiner. “How can we trust you when we find out you continued your activity even after you were busted?”
Weiner : “I have been up front from the beginning about my personal life. I did a bad thing and I was sick. Now I keep my hand on the problem everyday and have kept it down. It has been a long time since I sent any dick picks to anyone, almost an entire month now of not sexting. You can trust me to have matters in hand and keep it in constant motion. I have been endorsed by Woody Allen, Roman Pole-ansky, Marcia Gay Hard-on, and A-Rod to name a few and I am a member of members only so I will keep my finger on the pulse. Forget my past, look at my future.
Quinn :“You can tell he’s lying by the vein bulging, and not in his neck. He can hide behind the podium but fro here I see his problem growing. Its not just about trusting Weiner to keep it in his pants though, its about lying. I have it on good source that Weiner is at least two inches smaller than his claims. If he’s gonna lie about his dick size he can’t be trusted.”
De Blasio : “Look size doesn’t matter, just ask my son. He’s a half black man with a cool afro to prove it yet he has a portion of him that is half white, mainly his power drill, and he still gets down wit da bitches.”
Thompson :“Hey look, I can drop trow with the best of them but you need to know when to hold it and when to fold it, and Weiner just don’t fold his.”
Liu :“If Weiner is erected everybody will be Kung Fu fighting, which is a little bit frightening.”

Wow they all brought their big guns to that topic, lotta hostility here, now on to the final topic, the economy, and how will they create jobs.

Thompson :“What we need in New York is to have all taxi drivers self deport, so we can hire real New Yorkers in their place. That will be a huge boost to the economy.
De Blasio: “To create jobs in the city I propose making tax laws 50% more complicated especially for the rich who will be forced to hire our creative New York accountants to better hide their money. Companies like H&R Block will thrive and hire. Also I‘m gonna ask every fast food worker to chip in one dollar each to add to the city surplus. My wife is black and my son is half black with a killer afro and he works at Mickey Dee’s. He said one dollar would not be a strain on him, especially if he can take it out of the allowance we give him.”
Weiner :“Elect me and I promise more construction of clubs like Hooters, Scores, and my new company, ’Sexts and the City’, a self text club that guarantees anonymity. There are so many young co-eds in the city that need those jobs to work their way through college. By the way, if any of you young co-eds need part time work send me a text and I’ll hook you up.”
Liu : “I propose to bring the club scene of the eighties back which stimulates the economy by creating a tourist trap of dance clubs. Once finished, much like the eighties, everybody will be Kung Fu fighting.”

That wrapped up the questions, to save time I will just recap Weiner’s final statement.
“I want to thank Eyewitness News for such penetrating questions. I have never been afraid of penetration and I am happy to wrap my head around them every chance I get. So here’s me promise in a nutsack. Oops, I mean nutshell. The people of New York deserve a mayor who is in touch with the youth, and no one had touched more youth’s than me. The economy need stimulating and no one knows stimulation better than I do. The city needs someone who isn’t afraid to show everyone they are willing to stand up and I have proof of standing up in front of anyone. New York was at one time the fornication capital of the world, and if I’m elected I promise you New York will get fucked royally. Please vote for me, Anthony “Carlos Danger” Weiner. I’ll always be just a phone number away.

Lovers gonna love & Haters gonna hate–Savers gonna Save but Liberals liberate

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Those goddamn liberals are gonna ruin our country. What? Wait, let think this through a minute in terms I hope even the oldest whitest 50’s value clinging paranoid can understand. Words. Terrorist, one who inflicts terror, as a means to control. Terrorist would like to ruin the country, that’s clear enough. But how could a liberal ruin a country. Liberals seek to liberate, to create a power balance in which all share equal value and opportunity in a society. Kinda like Jesus did. Jesus was a liberal, at least according to the lame-stream media of his time, The daily scriptures. Was he trying to ruin the Fertile Crescent? In the dictionary liberal is defined as favorable to progress or reform. Favorable, not destructive. Terrorist-terror, Liberal-liberate. Women’s lib didn’t ruin the country it made it better, with many powerful women adding greatly to our society. Liberate the oppressed, that’s basic. Liberals believe in freedom and not just to other liberals but to all. Even conservatives.
Ah yes, conservatives. The very ones who use the word liberal to project an image of peace loving, tree hugging, environment caring, do nothings who would ruin the country by striving for racial equality, gender equality, a clean global eco-system and worst of all, world peace. What does the dictionary say about this odd group of take it or leave it change resisting conservatives? Conservative, disposed to preserving existing conditions or institutions, to limit change. Who would want to limit change? Obviously if one likes the way things are they wouldn’t want anything to change, wouldn’t want to liberate anyone. Not like that long haired liberal from Nazareth, someone different. Oh yea, King Herod. Lets face it, Herry had his choice of women, lived in a huge palace and was surrounded by wealth and power. Who wouldn’t want things to remain the same if that’s how life is for you? Conservatives conserve and that’s what they do. What they are best at conserving is money and power, and they prefer to conserve it all for themselves. They resist change because that would mean others may have equal value or opportunity and well, they want to conserve it all for themselves.
Not too long ago liberal was a derogatory term spat out with distain. Stinking liberals, bleeding heart liberals. In ’73 I had to choose which party to register as in order to vote, which made no sense to me at all. Why does everyone else have to know what party I believe in. But I dutifully followed the rules and marked my self down as a member of the liberal party partially out of spite to my staunch republican Dad and partially out of my own pure rebellious nature. When my conservative father found out we elevated our “disagreements” from my hair length to my disgracing of the family by becoming a liberal. I was warned it would follow me around like bad body odor. I wore that stench proudly in 1973, and I wear it proudly today. Politically I am liberal but I don’t define myself or others through a religious or political microscope because that’s what we believe not what we are. If you’re and atheist or a bible waving Christian that’s fine, but if you’re an asshole its not because of what you believe, but HOW you believe. Don’t force your beliefs on anyone else, enjoy them for yourself, allow other to enjoy their. The same in politics, if you’re a tea bagging homophobe its not because you’re a republican, you’re just an asshole. You can believe in the republican party without discriminating or fearing people unlike yourself. My Dad was staunch republican as I said, but I will credit him with having the sense to breakdown the stereo-types without sacrificing his core beliefs. It took time and a lot of nudging from me but in the end he understood we are not defined by our unconventional appearance, lifestyle, or religious practice. In name we are all human, and if you feel you must judge, judge not by political or religious beliefs, but by deeds and actions. I believe mine are worthy of any religious or political movement, but more importantly could be accepted as beneficial to humanity.

Camp Stoned-Henge

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Fresh shipment of skunk weed just hit town and I rolled the mothah of all joints. I fired that bad boy up, filled my lungs to capacity and passed it to Mario. Its been dry for almost two months now with nothing around. No red or gold grass, no Jamaican Ganja, no hashish, no Canibinol, not even any shit Mexican dirt weed. We’d resorted to puffing seeds and stems or the occasional resonated tar like lump of whatever the hell we were able to scrape out of our pipes. The first real hit in weeks and its some of the finest wacky tobacky skunk weed we around. Skunk weed, as its name implies, stinks like shit. Not shit exactly, closer to its namesake skunk, but either way when you stick your nose in the baggie it stinks of ass. But the smoke tastes sweet as could be and more importantly this shit FUCKS YOU UP!! The marijuana drought of 72 was now officially over so we were puffing our stone free asses off. “Oh my gawd JT, this shit is kickin’ my ass” Mario exhaled as he was exclaiming what we all were thinking after only one hit. When my turn came around for seconds I inhaled even deeper and held it as long as I could until my lungs waved the white flag and I surrendered a cough agreeing whole heartedly. “You ain’t shitting pickles my man, this is some killer ass weed. I am so stoned! I just wish Jimbo D was here to share it with us.” Jimbo D was a good friend and the fourth musketeer of our gang who moved up to the Catskills. He dropped out of school because his girlfriend was pregnant. They opted to move to Monticello to work for Jimbo’s uncle so now it was just me, Mario, and Shadow hanging around town struggling to finish school. Out of nowhere Shadow blurted out “Hey, my old man has a four man tent.”
The three of us broke out laughing wildly each holding our sides as if they may actually split and continued until we realized none of us knew what was funny. Shadow recovered first, “Haha, what in the hell are we laughing at?” I composed myself a little and looked back at Shadow to answer. “I think it was you Shadow, something about your old man pitching tents in his bedroom.” Shadow laughed again but Mario scratched his head in confusion, “Pitching tents? No he said his Dad has tents, like four of them.” At that point I understood how stoned we were as our conversations were lacking any semblance of lucidity but I needed to know what Shadow meant. “You say you have a four person tent? What did you have in mind?” Shadow exhaled another cloud of sweet second hand smoke, “Well, maybe we could drive up to Monticello to visit Jimbo and Debs and camp out in a tent. That way it’ll just cost us money for food, beer, and weed. We can split the cost of gas.” Amazingly sound proposition from someone so buzzed, and it was almost instantly that all three agreed. A plan began incubating.
That gave us three days to gather together as much drugs and money we could rustle up on short notice and get out of work or whatever else we needed to do. Shadow said he’d call in sick, Mario didn’t work, and this is my weekend off so it was perfect. We chose to leave early Friday afternoon so we would still have enough light to set up the tent. Shadow researched and found a state owned campground just about fifteen minutes from Monticello where we could campout for free. So off to the upstate New York town of Sundown we go.
“Checklist guys. I got a half ounce of weed, a full tank, and a cooler waiting to fill up with beer before we split.” I looked over at Shadow who was supplying the tent, “I got the tent, a coulpa sleeping bags, and a gas lantern. Plus a hatchet and Swiss army knife.” Shadow had a smug proud smile because like most times it was he that thought of the practical shit. Like some kind of real boyscout or something. We both looked at Mario not expecting anything but he shocked the shit out of us. “Well, I got a little cash here, and I also managed to score 6 hits of Bounty Acid.” He held out his hand and in it was a ripped up sheet of what looked like a stained paper towel. Shadow and I let out a simultaneous “Bounty Acid?” Mario chuckled, “its some clinical LSD dripped on paper towels, kinda like the new sugar cube LSD. I got it from my brother and he swears it’s some really good shit man. He’s never let us down before right? When we find Jimbo and Debs we can all trip our asses off.” Me and Shadow exchanged elated approvals. Our weekend was gonna rock and roll.
Monticello was only three hours away in normal traffic but it was Friday afternoon so it took us over an hour just to get on the Throggs Neck Bridge. But once we got through the Bronx it was clear sailing and we located our free campground area just around eight. We surveyed our temporary home, a mountainous forest with a few large clearings and an ice cold stream. We figured out what a preserve is. An isolated place in the woods with no bathroom, no shower, not much of anything but that running ice cold communal stream and a lot of wildlife. Not like Lions and Tigers and Bears and shit, but woodchucks, raccoons, possums, beavers, and foxes. Not the beavers and foxes we were hoping for, real ones. WTF, at least we may find out how much wood a woodchuck can chuck. No matter, its free, we are always open for an adventure, and we had lots of shit for our heads so we worked together and got the tent set up.
Shadow was beaming with pride over our accomplishment and I gotta say the tent looked professional. I stated happily, “All the comforts of home.” Mario was not as enthusiastic not being much of an outdoorsy kinda dude, “Yea ‘cept television a kitchen and a place to shit in peace. JT, light up a joint will ya?” I reached into my cigarette package for the ready to puff fat doob and struck it up, “Capital idea my most awesome brother, lets commence to getting stoned.” Before the joint even reached its destiny of being fastened to a roachclip I lit a second one and Shadow got us each a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. Now we were feeling good and buzzed and not caring about the lack of amenities in our camp, which we baptized as “Camp Stoned-henge”
Time to begin our search for Jimbo. We had an address, no idea what part of Monticello it was, but being naïve young stoners we believed if we drove around town we would eventually find the street, surprise Jimbo and Deb with some weed, LSD, and beer an have a big ole party. That was the plan anyway. Mario was by far the best driver especially when we were all stoned so I handed him the keys to my little red Simca “La Bomba”. “Okay Mario, the coolers is packed, I rolled eight doobs, and you got the acid. Here’s the keys bro, take us away.” With that the three of us headed out into the higher regions of the Catskill Mountains smoking joints and having fun. We laughed and drove and drove and laughed and we all three were in a great mood. The sun had just gone down to what they call sunset, but sunset way up in the mountains can be very different, and with the thick fog settling in it was more like horror movie cliché at dusk. It was nearly impossible to see but fortunately not many other cars were out on this foggy eve. Then we hit the road that would alter the complexion of our trip in ways we could never have foreseen. Twist Run Mountain Road. The road was long, with many a winding turn, that leads us to who knows where. Mario was doing his best to negotiate the twists and turns but between the fog in the mountain and the fog in his stoned out head his driving was far more erratic than normal. More than once he crossed or straddled the double yellow line and we couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of us. We kept moving, but at the speed of an old man in a wheelchair. We prayed we would not be noticed.
Prayers are funny things. Sometime they are answered, and sometimes they act like they are intercepted by the Karma police. None of us were very religious so instead of being answered they became some kind of karmic retribution, some sort payback for being evil Long Island suburban kids smoking devils weed. With the bright white headlights being refracted in the fog it was easy to see the contrasting rays of red strobe like lights which bounced off of everything. “Oh fuck man, I’m getting pulled over.“ Paranoia can make you freeze or give you paranormal quickness of thought. My panic first kicked in frozen as vision of an upstate New York prison until intuition filled my brain. Paranormal quickness took center stage as I immediately pulled the remaining joints out of my cigarette box and handed each of the boys two, leaving me with two. “Quick Mario, take out the cid an toss it out the window.” As Mario grabbed them from his pocket the always frugal and efficient Shadow pulled them from his hand and yelled “No wait, lets eat the acid first then the joints. We don’t wanna get busted tossing shit out of the window way the fuck up here. Besides Mario spent good money on it, hate to waste that.” At the time it seemed like a great idea. Mario stalled by pulling over slowly and we each ate two hits of LSD then began chewing the pot. Funny thing about skunk weed, and a fact I had previously been unaware of is it not only smells like skunk ass, it tastes like skunk ass too. Not to say I have eaten skunk ass before, but using my imagination that’s what it would taste like. I chewed and swallowed my two rodent shit tasting big bamboo sticks, Shadow ate his two, but Mario could only finish one. “Hey man, I can’t get this down it tastes horrible. JT, ya gotta take it man.” I grabbed the stick shoved it in my mouth and began chewing just as the cop came up to the window shining his flashlight on us. “Whatcha boyz a dewn up here, eh?“ He shined the light around our eyes and I stopped chewing, allowing the skunk ass flavor to proliferate around my cheeks awhile. Mario took control. “Um, sorry officer, we, uh we’re like here looking for our friend who lives up here in Monticello and like we got like lost in the mountains, he he, and well like the fog is like I mean like I can‘t like even see” Suddenly realizing he told a cop he couldn‘t see yet was still driving Mario made an attempt at a save and blurted, “I mean not like CAN“T see, but like not like really well, I mean this fog is like I mean can’t.. How do you do it officer?” The cop began searching our faces using his flashlight like a spotlight while I frantically tried to swallow inconspicuously the last of the skunk weed and rolling paper. He looked directly at me and suddenly that was me in the spot-light, nearly losing my biological functions. “Y’all looking fer a friend ya say? In Monticello? Well you boys’r in Ellenville now. I think maybe Y’all aughtta step on out the car.” He stepped back and shone his light on Mario and I took the opportunity to swallow the last of the wad of pastey skunk ass saliva soaked crap in my mouth. I was sure my breath stunk like a skunks ass and that’s something I wouldn’t want to try and explain to a hick cop way up in the Catskill Mountains. I wished I has a mint or something but at least we had no drugs to get busted with now. The cop frisked each of us then made us open the trunk of the car. Inside we had a cooler and my Moms wicker picnic basket. The lawman focused on the basket and said, “That’s a helluva nice basket there boys. My wife sure’d like something like that.” I said nothing, but Shadow was quick on the draw. He picked it up and handed it to the cop, “Well officer, why don’t you take this back to the Mrs. We’d be honored if you would take this as a token of our appreciation for helping us figure out where we are and how we can get back home.” Between Shadows charm and my Moms basket the cop took the bribe, smiled and said, “Well thank you boys, that sure is awful nice. My wife is gonna be right happy tonight. Now why don’t y’all get on back in your car, don’t move for about one hour an let the fog settle down. Make sure y’all go straight to where your staying” I looked at Shadow then at Mario and thought about how pissed my Mom was gonna be when she finds out I, or rather Shadow gave away her wicker basket. Anyway the cop was leaving, both Shadow and I mumbled good bye but Mario thought he would add to our new found friendly relation with the officer. With his goofiest big smile he added “We call it Camp Stoned-henge” The cop stopped glared in our direction and paused for a brief moment, then just shook his head as put his prize in his car. “You boys just get on back to your camp whatever, I sure don’t wanna run into y’all again tonight. Unnerstand?” No answer was necessary, we got into La Bomba, waited until the cop was out of sight and split.
Now there was some considerable silence in the car, each of us processing what just happened, and wondering what two hits of acid was gonna be like once it kicked in. Mario was driving and spoke first, “Lets just do like he said and head back to camp. Maybe tomorrow in the light we can find Jimbo.” As obvious and sensible as that was I still wanted to talk about my Moms basket, “Man, why the fuck did you give him My Moms basket? She’s gonna fucking kill me!” Shadow was already prepared with his answer, “Dude chill! It got us out of trouble, what if he kept us there and we all started tripping? We’ll chip in and get a new one, just tell her you left it somewhere.” Satisfied but not happy I had to agree, and off we drove back to Camp Stoned-henge in relative quiet.
No sooner did we get back to our tent did the tingling feeling of an oncoming LSD trip began. We popped open some brews, and waited. I don’t think I ever hallucinated so much before. I was seeing animals that weren’t there, probably not seeing animals that were, and we laughed for about three hours straight all the time having no idea whatsoever why we were laughing. Trees grew extra branches then bent over and kissed the ground. The sounds of the wilderness were symphonic, and even in the dark the colors were magnificent. Time seemed suspended and life looked distorted as if through a kaleidoscope tube but it was okay, even humorous for some bizarre reason. The acid changed the complexion of the evening and we had a blast.
We knew we were never gonna find Jimbo and Debs now, but we were high as shit, tripping and laughing away. We got lost in a mountain fog, had to eat almost all of our weekend supply of drugs including two hits each of acid, got pulled over by a corrupt hick cop almost getting busted, gave away my Moms wicker basket, but at least we’re safe, and happily tripping. Would be for at least the next 5 or 6 hours. We were laughing uncontrollably, happy as clams and the worst was over. Then something fell on the top our temporary canvas abode. Maybe a small twig or something. Then another, and another. Shadow peeked through the tent opening and gave us the news, “Oh oh, looks like rain guys” As the words began to sink in the rat a tat tat on the tent picked up speed and decibels. Within seconds the light rain morphed into a mountain downpour and I felt the earth move under my feet-I felt the sky a tumbling. Before we knew what happened we had wall to wall mud carpeting. Mario began freaking out, I began laughing harder, and Shadow stared out to tent opening and with a prophecy told us the wind was kicking up which reminded him of a time he and his Dad were camping, got caught in a storm so bad that the wind yanked the tent spikes out and one stuck in his leg.
The last lucid memory I had was Shadow showing us this little scar on his calf. Less lucid is a memory as vague as the mud carpet, of three tripped out stoners laughing with a mixture of delight and horror as we became part of a canvas blob of a soaking wet mudpack. We managed to pop our heads out of the openings, Mario found some cans of mud crusted PBR’s and we partied until well after sunrise. At some point we finally fell asleep.
We slept clear through to Sunday morning and when the Sunday morning sun menacingly shook us awake we looked like burnt and crusted Woodstock wash outs, completely covered in dried mud and probably woodchuck piss. We rummaged through what was left of our campsite, the weed was MIA, the cooler had tipped over but still had a few warm beers in it, and the sleeping bags and everything else including the tent were a damp collaboration of musty half dried shit. We tossed it all in the trunk where my Moms wicker basket once resided, went down and bathed in the ice cold stream. We set out home to Long Island and despite having a ton and a half of fun each vowed to never return to Camp Stoned-henge…..PEACE

I Know Where She’s Going, She’s Headed For The Cheating Side Of Town

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This is a very serious and sad excerpt of a story written from a normally humorous POV. It’s a peek into a portion of the dark side of JT’s life or it may just be a distorted reflection from your own mirror
You’re Cheatin’ Heart
Kayla was sound asleep and on any other night I would have been asleep too knowing Tina would come home after she was done with her shift. First maybe have a drink or two before coming home. I worked in many a restaurant and having a few “pops” after service was common. But this wasn’t any other night. This was the night I was confronting Tina. The green eyed monster was surely one of my less positive traits and has arrived too often under false pretenses, but I had been relatively certain she had been cheating on me No false pretenses this time though because tonight I have hard evidence. Her best friend and normal excuse for being late called earlier looking for Tina. Not much by itself but on the counter sat a receipt signed by her for a room at The Millers Grove Motor Inn. Of all places it had to be a motel bursting with happy memories of intense sexual excursions we had under the ceiling mirrors and on vibrating beds. I laid in wait in the darkness feeling my anger percolate. When I heard her car pull up a rush of adrenaline churned in my gut then gathered in my head. I was shaking. This was it!
The second she walked through the door my fears were confirmed. Her face bore an all telling freshly satisfied smile. The kind of smile I remembered seeing so often after our nights at the motel before we were married. It cut deep into my heart and made it hard to breath. Here it goes. “So where ya been babe?” Tina was startled, caught off guard not expecting me to be awake. I could feel the nervousness in her lie. “Oh, Joanne and I stopped of for a drink and it turned into 4 or five. We had some late customers and Jo and Jacob are having problems again.” I took a deep breath, anger growing by the second. “That’s really odd because Joanne called about two hours ago to remind you that you promised to cover her shift tomorrow.” The silence sat for an extremely uneasy four seconds as Tina began to attempt a backtrack. “Oh, did I say Joanne, I meant” I cut her off instantly” Stop the bullshit Tina! Stop it now!! You weren’t with Joanne or any other waitress friend. But I think I can guess where you were. More than likely at the Millers Grove Inn. It seems like that’s where you like to go, at least according to that receipt that was in your coat pocket.” I pointed to the receipt my finger shaking intensely. My body responding involuntarily to the sour mix of anger, nervousness, and anxiety. She just stared, eyes wider than I thought possible. Busted! She had nowhere to take it. She looked down at the floor unable to meet my burning angry eyes. Her face was flushed bluish red from the guilt and sex as well as the drugs and alcohol that were likely involved. She raised her head, eyes now pathetic an pooling up with tears as they held me hostage in anticipation. Her moist red eyes became pathetic and profoundly sad . It must have taken all she had to issue a sad mumble of “I-I’m sorry JT. I’m so so sorry.” She managed a sniffle for an exclamation point but I was miles and miles away from being ready to accept an apology.
“You’re sorry!? Sorry about what Tina? Sorry that you’ve been fucking somebody behind my back or sorry you got caught?” My face must have been bright crimson red because I could feel rivulets of livid red blood cells swirling around my head and I felt my Yeah you do cuz we’ve both been fucked over before and swore we would never do it to each other. I fucking trusted you Tina! I can’t fucking believe this.” The next question asked itself because I don’t remember thinking it. “So who is it? Who are you fucking Tina? Someone from the kitchen? A waiter? Who the hell are you sleeping with?” She paid no attention to the fact that it was more a demand than a question. Through her tears she softly asked, “JT please, does it really matter?” Actually a fair question but for some reason I felt I had to know. “It makes a difference to me, Tina, to me, to your husband. Remember him? You‘re partner for life!!” Tina looked up at me and streams of tear had begun sliding down her cheeks. “Please JT, don’t make me, it isn’t important. I made a mistake and I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say.” Head still burning hot with anger and distain my voice was getting a bit too loud. “I’ll tell you what I want you to say, I want you to say you didn‘t do it. I want you to say I haven’t been with anyone else but you can’t. It’s too late for that now isn’t it Tina. So I want to at least know who I can blame for ruining my life. Who is your fucking boy toy?” My sarcastic tone was over the top and I regretted the moment I used it, but fuck it man, I was beyond pissed! She looked at me defiantly and just spat out his name. “You really want to know JT? Okay I’ll tell you who I made love to, it was Johnny” The Louisville Slugger of shock cracked me dead in the temple sending resounding waves of disbelief across my skull. My head throbbed with a combination of bewilderment and almost uncontrollable anger. Johnny?! Fucking Johnny boy, the love of her life before we started dating. The very dude I had saved her from. The worthless prick who abused her, called her names, and cheated on her right under her nose!. The mother fucker she cried to me about for weeks after they broke up. The piece of shit that treated her like dirt for years as I begged her to leave him. I couldn’t breathe. I was aware of how loud it had gotten and didn‘t want Kayla to wake up. Choked with incredulousness my voice sounded squeezed .“Johnny. You mean Johnny boy the fuckhead that you hated? That fucking Johnny? I can’t believe this! How the fuck did this happen?” Now her tears were in full flight and forcing their way through her fingers. Tina was shaking visibly and breathing in uneven pants. “It doesn’t matter.” Fury was at an all time high. “Stop saying it doesn’t matter. It does matter. It really really does fucking matter!”
After a deluge of wet sobs Tina attempted to explain herself. “I went out for a drink with the girls after work week a coupla weeks ago and Johnny was there. He came over and we just started talking. Just talking, nothing else. He wanted to tell me how sorry he was and wanted to be friends again, we had a few drinks, one thing led to another and I-I don’t know. It just happened.” I was still in stun mode and the anger needed to escape in the worst way. “It just happened?” I was pissed and I could hear Tina sobbing heavily. “Something like that doesn’t just happen Tina. That’s bullshit. You have to know that something might happen. You say to yourself, this is a bad situation, this is wrong. This asshole fucked me over an now I’m talking to him. I can’t do this cuz I’m married. I’m happily married and….” The Louisville Slugger returned this time filled with reality. “Wait! Shit! Oh my god no!? Oh no no no. Oh shit Tina. You’re not happy are you? You were hoping. Oh Jesus god you were looking for someone or something that would free you out of ….of life with me. An unhappy life with me!” Anger was giving way to an old nemesis, my self loathing alter ego I believed to be dead had risen triumphantly. My loud rambling was replaces with a soft voice of reality, of self degradation. “What about Kayla? Are you unhappy about Kayla too?” Now Tina’s face looked distorted. The sockets of her eyes were sunken and wrinkled, deep reddish brown from so much rubbing. She looked old and haggard with her face soaked through and through from an all out cry. Every pore of her face looked sad and defeated. I wondered how I must have looked at that moment. Oh my god did she hate me that much? I was consumed by a combination of anger, betrayal, guilt, sadness and deep self loathing. My old pal, the demon self hate. I had truly hated myself morosely a few years ago when I first told Carrie about my theory that everyone that gets to know me either dies or leaves. That’s probably why I got so fucked up all the time, did so many drugs. Fuck man, even I couldn’t stand being near myself. Why should Tina feel any different f. The years of confidence building collapsed in a single instant. I was crushed and beginning to understand that it was my fault. Tina clearly had to share in the blame too but the reality was she didn’t love me anymore. Neither of us were able to talk. All we could do was shake and cry and sniffle. How did it come to this? I poured myself a huge glass of vodka from the freezer which was half gone in a matter of seconds, and being a half empty type of guy at this moment I filled back up before emptying it in one gulp.
We sat in silence for about ten minutes until Tina found the courage to talk. “So what now JT? What are we going to do now?“ I thought for a few seconds then said ”I don’t know Tee, I just don’t know.” My voice had taken on an eerie even tone which I almost didn’t recognize. “I think I needed to go home to Centerlawn and think shit through. And I think you need to decide what you want to do too. I guess we both need to figure out what we want but as far as our marriage well, thats over” Surprisingly Solomonic after such an emotional roller coaster. Tina just stared at me with a profound sorrow in her eyes so deep it made her look totally detached from life. “I am so so sorry JT. Its all my fault. I don’t even no where to begin.” I put my finger up to her lips, “Shh, there’s plenty of blame to go around. I’ve been so consumed with work and, fuck man I don’t know what. I-I just never saw this coming. We both fucked up. Maybe we should never have been, I don’t know. Like I said, I need to think shit through. I gotta split. I’m going home to my Moms, I need to think. I’ll be back to see Kayla after work tomorrow.” I pounded down another glass of vodka and took what was left of the bottle. I could hear Tina sobbing loudly in the background as I walked out the door. I took one last look at our home, our once happy home and could see the Tot Finder in Kayla’s window. Her parents have just become the monsters under her bed. I thought about Kayla and broke down and cried again. Not a soft cry, not even a cry like I had when my brother James died. This was a deep guttural cry with an ugly darkness. I have lost Tina, I lost my self worth, and worst of all I’m gonna lose Kayla. All in the blink of an eye. I blew Kayla’s window a kiss through my tears, wiped off my soaked cheeks and took a deep breath. I got in my car and left wondering if I was ever coming back.

Asking Fellow Writers For Help

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Fellow bloggers and writers I am requesting your input and advice. It has taken me many years to work up the courage to really share my ramblings and musings but I have reached a point where I want to reach out and share my twisted view of life through storytelling. I am ready to attempt to publish some short stories in either in magazines or on e-readers or any other medium but have no clue where to even begin. Writing has always been more of a hobby for me shared with only close friends, and growing up prior to the information explosion I have limited mastery of electronics and cyber worlds. I am asking anyone willing to check out this excerpt below and offer any serious and honest critiquing and any assistance on how I may go about publishing some work. Either way thank you and keep on writing….PEACE

COSMO AND THE GARDEN EARTH
(A guide to cosmic gardening)

PART 1. NOT JUST DUST IN THE WIND

In the beginning there was a vast empty space with atoms flying around in chaos everywhere when suddenly two overly aggressive atoms collided and caused a huge explosion. Out of this explosion came a vast network of stars and debris spinning in an ever-expanding vortex we call the universe. The Big Bang, the singularity, the beginning. Right! First vast empty space then all of a sudden a Universe so huge it has no end. Wait, even better, first there was nothing and then the one and only god created shit to keep him busy. A massive universe with one teeny little speck where he created human beings to be just like him. Now that’s even funnier! As a matter of fact both of these theories are a source of great humor and hilarity and the butt of many jokes at The Board of Co-operative Gods and Goddesses in District seven. At a cosmic cocktail party you will hear no less than one hundred jokes about various theories of how life came to be, but the Earth stories are by far the most popular. The “monkey trials” keep the gods laughing for hours on end at inter-galactic get togethers. There is not a god worth his sodium that hasn’t heard of Darwin, Moses, Mohamed, Elijah. Or the Talmud, Koran, The Bible or even The Upanishads. Stories of a pure evil horned devil with blood dripping from its hands and fear bolts being shot from its eyes keep them rolling in the anti-matter with tears of laughter. Satan, Lucifer, Serpent of Evil, all such knee slapping names. Oh yes, the earthlings grown by Cosmo are a source of great amusement to all the gods. All the gods? Am I saying there really are many gods? Does a pope defecate in the woods? Is a Polar Bear catholic? Can white bears jump? Of course there are many gods, and many galaxies supporting forms of life. Did you really think you were the only living beings in the entire universe? Jeez, and I thought Wookies were dumb. Well sit back you Vader naysayer and let me tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well maybe a fabrication or two along the way because YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
In the beginning there were many gods and goddesses with varying responsibilities an each god had a particular purpose.Some Gods to make the planets spin, some to make and enforce laws such as gravity, gods to create properties of physics, gods to ponder deeply the laws and needs of the universe’s to determine how they should be applied. These were the most intelligent gods and they held court to make decisions about everything. It is still known today as The Board of Co-operative Gods and Goddesses. (BOCGG) They made the decisions that effected the farmer gods who were expected to grow and experiment with the various galaxies across the universe. Each galaxy was tended to by its own god. There was great and clever Simon in the Tolkien Galaxy, Mychrighton in the Andromeda Strain Galaxy, The red haired beauty Lucille who watched over the Bobaloo Galaxy, Luke-ass who presided over The infamous Jedi Galaxy that was far far away, and so on. Here in our Milky Way galaxy, the farmer was and is the god Cosmo. Such a good farmer is Cosmo that they named the entirety of space after him. The vast space of the universe came to be known as “The Cosmos”. Travel was known as Cosmic travel, knowledge as cosmic knowledge and any left out odds and ends in space became known as Cosmic debris. I’m not jiving you bout that Cosmic debris! Cosmo is indeed an accomplished cosmic gardener, in fact he is somewhat of a legend among the other gods. In Solar system 728KJ he had cultivated eight grooving spinning garden orbs called planets. From the tiny and excruciatingly hot mercury, to the equally tiny but totally frozen Neptune he held them together with a tight asteroid belt and tended to all eight magnificently. He had the giant Jupiter (which for some reason has red eye in all the family photo’s), he put some cool looking bangle bracelets around the lovely and mysterious Saturn, and named two of the planets after his own Mom and Dad. The entire universe was touched at the naming of Venus and Mars. Yes Cosmo had really taken pride in that particular solar system. But his pride and joy and claim to fame is most assuredly for his work done on one particular planet, known throughout cosmos as garden earth. Garden earth is a rather insignificant looking planet in solar system 728KJ. It is the third planet from Sun 728, and has the benefit of the perfect amount of sunshine. Earth also has a considerable amount of water on it which is the other essential ingredient in growing things. Sun and Water in abundance makes for a smashing garden. Cosmo wants to make planet earth, in solar system 728KJ the most prolific and successful garden in all the universe. With a vast ocean to create clouds which would in turn drop water back into the garden a system of synergetic energy is created. Cosmic irrigation! Garden earth is a thriving ever-growing populace world. A wide variety of vegetation and many roaming creatures inhabit this garden. But what you see on garden earth today is not how it was at the beginning so put on your asteroid seat belt as we travel back in time to see how this all came to be The Planet Earth.
Catastrophic is the best way to describe his first attempt. Maybe he was not mature enough or maybe he just rushed it, but either way it’s a story that is told and retold as far away as Gabor40904 which is about eight billion gamma light years away. To you that would be a mere two point five septillion miles give or take. At any rate here is what happened in Cosmo’s first attempt. When a god reaches a certain age he or she is given a Galactic Farming Starter Kit. In the starter kit comes a package of sea monkeys which gods use to populate in any gathering of H2O. These sea monkeys would eventually grow into all sorts of different weird looking creatures. Some even had 8 legs! But, that’s way in the future as evolution thrives underwater. The problem was that no one could see the assortment of single cell creatures swimming beneath the surface of the Sea of Earth. Cosmo wanted more on his special planet. He wanted some things that he could watch and toy with and keep as pets. So with the BOCGG approval Cosmo sent away for the “Advanced” farmer kit which comes with both vegetative seeds and life seeds capable of growing multi-organism land dwelling entities.
Cosmo surveyed his round global garden and noticed a huge land mass which he had named Pangea after his sister Pangela. It was enormous but completely unadorned and surrounded in its entirety by water. Cosmo’s first brilliant concept was born. Large edible vegetation. He developed gargantuan trees and tall full shrubs which would absorb energy from the sun and convert it into oxygen. Now he could create some creatures and they would have food and be able to breath. Brilliance had come to Cosmo in a dream. He was being chased by a creature with a long neck and large mouth with sharp teeth. This would be his first creature. What should he name this creature? Jar Jar Brinks? No, that’s stupid. He thought out loud. “Lets see, the creature was chasing me and my buddy Steggo and when it got near it bit Steggo’s ass. Steggo yelled out damn man, now my ass is sore and.” He stopped in mid sentence. “That’s it! I’ll call him sore ass! No, not sore ass, Steggo’s sore ass. To avoid any divine libel law suits it was suggested he make it one word. It sounded smart and sophisticated as stegosaurus so he went with that. Now for some other creatures for stegosaurus to play with.
So Cosmo created an assortment of giant creatures. Long necks, smaller faster creatures, a few with wings, and one really scary one. He made up weird names for them like Stegosaurus, brontosaurus, Pterodactyl (He also invented the silent letter which would cause all sorts of shit in years to come), and his personal favorite, the frightening one, Tyrannosaurus Rex. For weeks the great god Cosmo played with his new dinosaurs. He started to get a little worried when he saw them chewing on the tops of all his beautiful vegetation, but realized that they needed to eat something. My creator almighty they have appetites bigger than their damn bodies. Seems the more they ate the more they expelled from there butts. Some of it a horrible almost violent smelling gas which was a bit of an embarrassment to Cosmo when other gods came to view his garden. But the solid stuff actually deteriorated and made the trees and shrubs grow even better. It seemed like a perfect system. Everything depended on everything else to survive. The sun gave everything energy and sucked up water to make clouds, the clouds returned water to cool things off in the garden and help grow the vegetation. The vegetation gave air and food for the creatures , and the creatures pooped out food to feed the vegetation. A cycle was created which Cosmo referred to as “The cycle of life.” A theme that would forever define his garden no matter what thrived in the garden beds.

Salvation On A Stick

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A candle glowed I saw the light
Was blinded by the glare
Looked inside the painted glass
Not a single soul was there

imagery hangs up on the wall
with beads of whispered hope
Empty promise from within
Behind the velvet rope

You can build life brick by brick. Trust me trust me that’s the trick
What you find out there can make you sick. Glory Praise Him Halleluiah .. Salvation on a stick

Come inside confess your sins
We love it when you give detail
Trade your switchblade for a cross
And shout his name with zeal

It’s why you’re here its why you came
To wash away the sick
Come inside and you will find
Salvation on a stick

You can build it brick by brick. Trust me trust me that’s the trick
What’s really there can make you sick. Glory Praise Him Halleluiah .. Salvation on a stick