Say My Name

 

 

You can say my name
But who am I really
What am I supposed to be
One thing for sure
I’m not a name
That’s not who I am
It’s a title assigned to me
By Mom and Dad
That’s how I came to be me
So who am I really?
A silk sheet thought
One fleeting random moment
A consequence of love
Shared by my parents
An accident of birth
You can say my name
But I’m much more than a title
Much more than a belief
I’m the only thing I could ever be
Something relevant
Just me
The one thing I will always be

Say my name but I won’t answer it’s just a term a verbal cancer of a terminal dancer or a necromancer out on his luck. I’m just a dumbstruck shmuck stuck on a shelf by myself, not some someone else but me. Don’t you see, what else could I be? Although many believed they could change me. Rearrange the stranger in me but its plain to see that only caused a derangement in me. Who’s to blame for all this shame? If it’s you…..Say my name

What’s my name
Monsieur insane
Homme sans cranium
A brainless geranium
What do I possess
All I have is an insignificant title
A given name and too much time
Straddled with faded memories
I try to hold on to my past
Hoping it may last
But it slips through my fingers
Pleading with me to forget
The memories needn’t even ask
I don’t want them
Memories cause sadness
Create melancholy madness
Yet they exist in me
On file
They do nothing but mock
Why shouldn’t they
They’ve done their task
They added to my being
They poisoned my well
Now they whisper my name
If only they could see behind the pain
Hear the screams of my fearful darkness
Feel the fires that burn through my soul
Maybe they would understand why I wish to forget
Know why I rail with constant regret
I wish I could delete them
But I live in their moments

I try to put that shit behind me but my ghosts always seem to find me, keep trying to define me or even realign me and try to destroy my virility. My natural ability doesn’t win me nobility but showing humility as I use it with civility. My good deeds bring me tranquility while I patiently wait the oncoming senility. That’s our brains delete button. One day I’ll even forget my name. I’m an enigma with shitty stigma if you hear me I can dig ya but I’m serious man I’m a mysterious man a delirious man without a clear plan. Life keeps maiming my brain make me believe I’m not sane allowing some demons to cause me shame and I know this sounds lame but if you need someone to blame it can be only one person……..Say My Name

Live and Love in Peace

An Existential View Of Creation (A JT Hilltop Twisted Tale)

 

Adam, Eve, A Snake, and A Not So Immaculate Conception

In the beginning the Creator invented seven time periods. He was tired so he made each one 24 hours and called it a day. After a good nights rest the Creator then placed Adam in a garden, yanked out one of his ribs and created the easily fooled Eve to keep him company (as if). The Creator made Eve without the snake appendage that was supplied to Adam so it was decided more of those egg chasing snakes should flourish in the garden. The Cobra leader of those slivering salacious heat seeking missiles had the ability to talk and loved to flirt. This snake was quite a player. A forked tongue sweet talker he was selling his snake oil in exchange for a little piece of fruit. An apple you Weinstein perverts! At any rate (usually based on the hour) this high end slinking pimp of a snake wanted to make a deal with Eve. The very second the deal was consummated Adam fell down. Yes my brothers and sisters, the fall of Man. That’s the story of the Garden Of Eden as I remember it, but what if……….

Went To A Garden Party
In the beginning a number of tribes existed in an area we now call the Middle East. The so-called “fertile crescent” housed two tribes which stood out amongst all other colonies. They had become far more advanced than most other tribes beyond opposable thumbs. These two communities had differing methods of survival both using reason and logic. One tribe, The Aggies, learned how to manipulate the vegetation and grow it at will using soil, sun and water. They were prolific growers who planted the seeds of society. Oh yea, they also planted Cannabis, Wheat, Alfalfa, and a variety of Vegan deliciousness that way in the future would give hipsters GMO free orgasms. The other tribe, The Shepherds, learned how to manipulate the cattle and sheep, goats, and the occasional Chupacabra and penned them up creating a seemingly endless supply of milk, meat, and bestiality. (Lets not even go there) They were prolific manipulators. These two tribes habituated a very large botanical section called the Garden of Eden. Truth be told they did not like each other, but they used their logic and reason to devise treaties and form boundaries which they agreed not to cross. So it was agreed the Aggies could live in the North Eden, and the Shepherds in South Eden. The tribes kept to themselves and all was peaceful and both were prosperous. That is until one seemingly insignificant incident set of a series of events that would change the world forever.
It was a beautiful late morning day in the Garden of Eden when a young male Aggie named Adam decided to take a walk in the forbidden area. The forbidden area was smack dab in the middle of the garden and was chock full of colorful vegetation and mysteries that both Aggies and Shepherds agreed to never entertain. That was their buffer, a patch of land untouched and unused by man. But Adam was a curious adventurous young man with a strong desire to explore, along with other desires he didn’t yet understand. Ergo it wasn’t unusual for Adam to be traveling into the agreed upon DMZ (Don’t Masturbate Zone) but on this particular day Adam came across a small waterhole in which a young lady was bathing in the nude. Not recognizing her from his tribe he assumed she must belong to the Shepherds. Those slightly whiter skinned people who smelled of animal shit which was oddly alluring at times. At first he was turned off by her exoticness but when he looked closely at her he noticed something strange. Aside from her large woman bumps she looked much like he did only fairer in skin and hair but without the appendage that ruled his emotion. She had a pale complexion but much of her face was obscured by long bouncing colorless curls of thick hair. He liked the way her hair looked across her face allowing only her eyes of turquoise which sparkled like evening stars and a tiny button like nose above thick full lips. He began to get a tingling in his loins because he found her oddly attractive. He became entranced as she bathed, water glistening off her white full breasts. The sight of her cherry red nipples made his stomach a tad queasy. But not a bad queasy. He spied her with great delight and even began to wonder if she was like the women of Aggies in other ways. He felt that youthful familiar rising in his loins that cause men to lose control of their senses. He began to wonder if she enjoyed the pleasures of sex in the same manner women of his tribe had enjoyed him. He imagined making wild unbridled passionate love to her. Considering the times perhaps it was bridled sex, but whatever, she made him hard and horny as all….. For lack of a better term, all Hell.
Now he had a specials reason to sneak off to the forbidden place. After quickly finishing his chores each day he would sneak down to the waterhole hoping for a salacious viewing. He watched from the trees as she bathed herself getting himself more horny each day. He stared in awe until one day he got up enough nerve to confront her. “Young maiden of the Shepherds, why do you come to the forbidden place each day by yourself?” The young maiden pretended to be alarmed even though she had been aware of his hiding and staring since his first visit. Frankly, she was just as curious as he was, also experiencing tingles and just as curious about inter-tribal sex. “I come here to bath myself, not to be stared at by an Aggie. Why do you come here every day to stare at me?” The young Aggie gave this some thought, because quite frankly he wasn’t sure himself why he was here. “ I come not to stare at you but to explore the area and determine if the land is fit for growing” he lied. The young maiden blushed slightly when she saw the lust in his dark brown eyes. “Are you sure it is the land you wish to explore? It seems to me you are looking at my body and I believe that is not vegetation I see growing under your loincloth” The audacious young maiden gave him a look that offered more a challenge than a venting of distain. She blinked her eyes at him and something strange happened. He felt a Funny feeling in his stomach as though the seeds he used to grow things themselves were festering from within. He boldly chose to accept the challenge. “It is true that I have gazed upon you and appreciate the uh….. The unusual beauty you possess. Indeed I was hoping perhaps you were an Aggie and perhapswould be my maiden.” The Aggie could feel his entire body shaking and the young Shepherd maiden did not back away. She moved closer to the Aggie. “I am a Shepherd woman, not a dirt laden Aggie maiden. And you young Aggie stud, you are filled with dirt from your farming. If I were to ever consider being a maiden to the like of you I would expect you to be clean. Why don’t you come in here and allow me to bathe you?” It was more of an order than an invitation but that was of no consequence because he had already made his mind up as to where he was headed and his manhood was pointing the way. He approached the watering hole with a mere modicum of trepidation. She held out her hand and he accepted, and the both of them shuddered ever so slightly. He dropped his loincloth and revealed the growth underneath it was indeed not vegetation yet ripe for the picking. He stepped naked into the waterhole beside her. For five minutes they stared and cleansed each other, eyes sparkling with curious wonder. The Aggie closed his eyes and allowed this maiden, this Shepherd woman to touch him all over. When she got down to washing below his waist he was surprised to discover how eagerly his body was responding. The maiden held his solid manpole in her hand. “Methinks my Aggie that you have something other than bathing on your mind.” Unable to form an actual word, the Aggie grabbed the maiden in his arms and laid a big fat spit swapping kiss on her using his tongue muscle very skillfully. This was something new to the maiden, and at first she wanted to pull back. However, once she realized how good the tongue tango felt, she greedily sucked his tongue into her mouth and allowed the saliva filled dance to continue. Well I don’t have to tell you what happened next. Sparks flew and fluids oozed, and soft moaning was the only form of communication. Of course the two lovers understood they braved the scorn of their fellow tribe members by allowing their naked bodies to exchange these biological fluids. But it felt so crazy good they did indeed continue to explore each other and exchange passion and bodily fluids. Four times. It wasn’t until after the fourth round of carnal explorations led to exhaustion that they even introduced themselves to each other. “I am called Adam, which means man.” To which the maiden replied, “Indeed Adam, you are quite the man. More so than any Shepherd I have ever known. My name is Eve, which means life.” With a big fat satisfied grin Adam replied, “Indeed Eve, you have breathed life into me unequaled by any other Aggie I have ever known.”
So Adam and Eve began to meet each other every day and made love like a couple of school kids. But all was not so good back at the tribes. The other Aggies were beginning to get suspicious because Adam never ever seemed to be dirty. How could anyone work the soil all day yet remain free of dirt. And back at the Shepherds they began to get suspicious because Eve was always whistling and showed no interest in even the most handsome of Shepherds. Now it just so happened that the leader of each tribe sent someone to follow their respective suspected tribe violators on the very same day. Once at the watering hole, the Aggie spy hid in the north woods, and the Shepherd spy hid in the south woods. At first the spies were appalled and shocked. But Adam and Eve were both so very sexually talented, and each brought new tricks specific to their tribes that it became more of a show. I believe at least one, perhaps even both had become so excited while watching that they pleasured themselves before retuning to the tribe leaders to give the reports.
The tribe leaders were livid. Furious! How could this possibly happen? It was the most outrageous act that had ever occurred. They both paced, in different colonies yet somehow in unison, until the sinners returned to their folds. The minute Adam returned to the Shepherd village he was grabbed by the biggest and strongest Aggies and brought before the leader. “Adam, I am quite disappointed”, he said, “You have disrespected every member of our tribe by engaging in this disgusting act with a Shepherd woman.” Adam didn’t answer, he just stood there looking sheepish, which for an Aggie was another no no. “You’re despicable act has left me with no other choice. You shall be banned forever from the garden of Eden. Go now, get out and never return. Take your Shepherd slut with you!” Adam sadly walked to his hut to gather his belongings. Inside he saw his best and now only friend. “How did he find out” he asked of this friend. “Well Adam, you were spied on by Cain. He followed you and reported back to the leader.” Adam shook his head and mumbled, “Cain, of course. I should have guessed. That shit spreading farmer is gonna pay for this someday.” And with that, Adam left towards the waterhole hoping to see Eve there one last time.
Eve of course had a similar experience, and she too was permanently banned from the Garden of Eden. Eve was certain it was Abel that had spied on her as Abel had always tried putting the moves on her but she forever denied his advances. Reluctantly she too had to leave, and also chose to have one last look around the sexually charged waterhole in hopes that somehow Adam might be there. As luck would have it, which luck often does in tales, they met at the very same moment and exchanged stories of banishments.
So hand in hand Adam and Eve left the Garden of Eden forever, Adam holding in his free hand the apple the Aggie farmer had grown for her, and eve holding in her free hand Adams snake, which Eve had so totally and completely tamed. So from this little tale of debauchery and scandal, many another story was begot……. TBC
Live and Love in Peace

THE STORYTELLER

 

The storyteller unlocks the subconscious
A locksmith using memories as his tool
Reminding us knowledge which lay dormant
Sleeping in the memories of our own hearts
Wishing one day to sort out real from imagined
So we listen with intent hoping to be free
Because feelings that lay frozen in our minds
Plead day to day that they be un-manacled
Free of the fears which lock our hope away
Holding hostage that which we already know
The knowledge that dawned with our births
Stored in the vastness of our repressive minds
Inside the temples of the storytellers graveyard
Where secret knowledge is preached in solitude
So we listen

 

 

The storyteller he makes no claims nor judgments
His tales are the dreams of visitors from the night
Imaginary and manifested friends of midnight lore
Some welcome some unwanted but all unfiltered
Preying on our eager and vivid imaginations
Reaching in to unleash our suppressed emotions
To strip them naked exposed unto ourselves
He asks not to be paid in silver nor gold
Only hopes to enter into our hearts and minds
And allow his words soothe or injure wakefulness
Offering no direction nor instruction be followed
Exposing incognito the paths of our choosing
Oftentimes he tell stories of profound love
Allowing many to reflect fondly of experience
So we believe

 

 

Yet for others love never seems to be enough
So he recalls stories of deep pain and loss
Sharing the pains he lived through and died from
Exposing himself while revealing our profound grief
And in the end with the many tales he’s woven for us
He blankets us all from that darkness which resides
Obscuring from inside the desires of the incendiary
Coaxing emotions to come bubbling to the surface
In a desperate search to find our own reflection
And fix the broken parts we tried to forget
Whether memories make you sad or glad matters not
It bears no significance once the story comes to end
The teller leaves carrying our hurts without reward
Upon his shoulders to cast into his healing heart
A mutual exchange of what is and what should be
As it was intended

 

The biggest fish of the fishing rod, a thousand tales from Scheherazade
Saviors of the suicide squad that make us stop and think so hard
Should we disregard our own backyard or traipse on down the boulevard
Scary streets abandoned yards, play at risk of being scarred
Don’t blame the words of the traveling bard its only a tale
The storytellers veil to hide his wails
Be he poet or prophet or teller true
He gives freely of words to me and you
Words plucked from his heart become his art
Right from the start
He writes them down not for glory
Only wants to tell a story
To reveals our eyes to our mirror
Put perspective little bit clearer
So gather round come in nearer
Stand naked before his story moral
Thank him for his message oral
Once he’s gone only words remain
Because no one notices his barrel of pain
They only ask him to tell it again and again
Until he has no story left

 

 

A Dads Thoughts On Life

 

 

At the far too tender age of five my curious daughter peered deeply into my heart through my eyes. Knowing she had my full attention as I meditated she posed me an existential question. “What is life Daddy? Can it merely be blood and breath, flesh and bone, and independent thought?” (Okay, I paraphrased a bit but that’s what she meant) . With a childlike earnestness she continued, “please don’t tell me lies like the other adults Daddy, I trust you.” After a cautionary period of consideration I decided to tell her my honest thoughts. “No one really knows what life is we only know it exists. And some of us aren’t even sure about that my little love but this is my existential theory. I know this probably sounds like adult talk bullshit but the truth is it’s too hard to explain in an antiseptic arrangement of hard to understand words, so I will try an explain it in verse………

Are we here or are we there
Is anybody anywhere
Or is everybody everywhere
Is time real and should you care
When is now and when was then
Get to the end and go back again
Its always spinning so I let it all be
Life is just a cycle to a psycho like me
But who are we and why do we exist
Questions so tempting its hard to resist
Maybe the question that should be asked
What can we do to remove the masks
See each other for who we are
Not so far from outer bizarre
Various colors different beliefs
Similar joys, similar griefs
Free of compartments
But similar contents
Hating anyone simply doesn’t make sense
So the best I have to offer is my thoughtful consonance
One quick trip with the flow of my consciousness

 

As I contemplate my insignificance whether fate or just coincidence
I remember a certain incident that creates some dissonance
But given due diligence I can remove the belligerence
Lackluster ignorance doesn’t offer you deliverance
It just makes you numb
Makes you sound like you’re dumb
The outcome of which could make you succumb
To groundless conclusions and downright confusion
Delusion exclusion and illusion seclusion
Until some half wit human picks up a gun
Scatter and run
Because hate has no conscience
Once begun its been done
And though my eyes close theres one thing I see
Death in the end has not one ounce of mercy

We contemplate our significance to the Universe while arguably every other species on earth simply goes about surviving. But us, in this tiny pocket, of this small galaxy, of this immense Universe, we simply assume we must be the important species. Ants, Lions, Whales, whatever have no purpose, only humans. Instead of spending so much time trying to congratulate ourselves for being so damn superior, perhaps we should address why we are the most destructive species. We destroy eco systems, we throw our trash across the planet and call it progress, and still we live and breathe, love and die, and still fight, sometimes to the death, to prove to ourselves that we are important in the big picture. There is no big picture, there are only scant few moments to enjoy what life offers. Take life’s offer while you’re still here……
To all whom it applies Happy Fathers Day, to everyone alive,

Training My Puppy To Be Existential

 

 

This is Bailey, a puppy we adopted just before Christmas, thus naming him George Bailey. He dropped the George because he felt it too cumbersome for such a cute little canine. He was a rescue but truth be told we rescued each other. Two Dark souls who feel like the Universe is against them. The main difference is while Bailey has the youthful energy and exuberance of a child, I have reached a point where energy has been replaced by wisdom. A clever way to describe finally getting it after you’re too old to use it. Either way, it has become my responsibility to raise my puppy as an existentially evolved wolf.

 

So I have been tasked with teaching this cute little Labee (a term coined by some hipster Millennial with a ManBun describing a mix between a Labrador Retriever and a Beagle) to become an enlightened and existential canine. TBT, he already has a good grasp on some basic existential concepts, such as the importance of the self. He clearly accepts the fact that his self is the center of his universe. Unfortunately he also has a firm grasp on possessions with his sharp teeth and strong jaw. This habit is far more about anarchy than existentialism, but still the insignificance of ownership of material objects is an important facet of understanding existentialism. Like most canines politics are important to the pack mentality. Come to think about it, he views me not as his owner, but more like his Socialist Government who distributes food drink and shelter in return for a modicum of loyalty.

 

Spending most of his time with his Hippie counter-culture grandpa, a few unusual dog training methods were bound to be instituted. I had to train him to be a canine and also to survive in a humans world. First things being first I had to teach him some basic dog rules. The first rule of the dog world is all about common canine decency. Rule One I had to teach him was never ever, no matter how much undigested food there is in another dogs stool, you don’t eat other dogs shit! His nose sniffs the ground near an opposing canines unpicked up fecal matter like it’s a huge line of cocaine with a bonus at the end. Most trainers offered advice like say “leave it” or “stay away” while tugging gently on his leash. But again, being a Hippie grandpa I choose to use my own commands. I yell “Bong Water” and pull him away. Why? Because if you have ever woken up after an evening of massive bong hits in a mental haze of fog with the driest cotton mouth you’ve ever experienced and accidentally drank the liquid contents in your bong you will understand how ridiculously disgusting “Bong Water” tastes. For me it was one of the most objectionable tastes ever so to say it as my dog is about to partake of something gross it just seemed fitting.

 

Thing is dogs don’t understand our language, just the words we use. If you constantly say stand when you really want them to sit they won’t stare at you and correct your grammar, they will follow the command according to the words used to train and reinforce the desired result. A sharp loud “Dude” tells Bailey to pay attention to me. The softer “Here Little Dude” lets him know I’m pulling a Milk Bone from my pocket. It’s hard breaking through because Bailey is going through a self awareness crisis, I throw a ball and the Labrador in him chases it while the Beagle in him refuses to give it back. It creates a game of distrust and keep away that perplexes us both. Anyway, time to get back to my Existentialism Canine Training.

 

It was very difficult to get Bailey to understand the concept of all dogs don’t go to heaven because existentially heaven doesn’t exist for any of us. All the dogs in the neighborhood are counting on this concept but the truth is it’s just a rumor started by a Pitt Bull from down the block. This has made my existential training from the canine philosophical point of view somewhat difficult. To explain his separation from his earthly existence is quite a challenge. His sense of reason seems non existent. I can’t figure out why he does some of the crazy things he does. For instance, he will chew twigs and eat dirt but then stare at me for giving him what he considers to be shit dogfood. And the shit is like mostly chicken, because the first time I bought him food with too much grain in it the young store cashier looked at me like I was a piece of gluten. If eyes could spoil a dinner, I’d have been a meal in the garbage.

So I continue to hope, launching into philosophical dissertations as we walk I express my thoughts about God, existence, and living in a Kafkaesque world. I’m guessing it will take a lot of profound monologues to break down the thousands of years of evolution both our species have experienced aside from having gone through much of it together in a symbiotic relationship. So for now I suppose I’ll just have to be satisfied with repeating quotes from Sartre and Camus, while expressing my deep love of Hermann Hesse works and my affinity for Kierkegaard while we go out on our adventures in the suburban jungle. At least he gives me the courtesy of pretending he gets me…. Live and Love in Peace

 

 

Confession Carousel

 

Every minute counts
Literally
Sixty ticks just snuck out my window
Sixty heartbeats closer to death
Sixty more seconds stolen from my future
Given to my past
What do you regret?
Running up a debt in your dark silhouette
Or better yet
Having to fret from the merciless threat
While you break out in a sweat
Choosing Heaven or Hell
Soul to save or to sell
Maybe you cheated
Repeated and repeated until your life was completed
Your love deleted
Life laughed at me
Passing me by like a cosmic hitchhiker
No rides for the aging solitude
So rude
That’s when you feel the need
That’s when its time to do it
To jump aboard your confession carousel
The final tour of atonement
Hoping hate peels away wrongs for a new birth
The remembrance of the love in which we were born
Time goes into overdrive
Kick it…

 

The spinning confession is an aggression of complexion
But for the sake of this session I’ll repeat the question
What’s your main sin?
Running up a debt in your dark silhouette
Or better yet
Having to fret from the merciless threat
While you break out in a sweat
Choosing Heaven or Hell
Soul to save or to sell
Maybe you cheated
Repeated and repeated until your life was completed
Your love deleted
Did you screw up the few
You think this shit is all about you?
Your so fucking conceited your ego goes untreated
That’s nothing new
Perhaps that’s your shame
Think you own the whole game but your so fucking lame
Who cares who’s to blame
Its not yours to regain so now you refrain
Just let go your indiscretions
Unburden your possessions
We all think we have the world by the balls
Until reality calls
Puts up its walls
And its innocent who fall
Realities perception such an icy reception
Without exception
Act quick before time runs away
To voice its rejection
Guilt will own you and place you on a spinning wheel of angst
Natures pranks
Spiritual thanks
Filled with dejection
Waiting in vain
For your confession……
Slow it down

Fate is your shadow
If follows you from the day you’re born
If you move fast, fate moves faster
Move slow, it creeps behind
But fate is always there
Following and waiting
In the corners of your shadow
Creeping closer every second
Its time to fess up before fate eats you up
Pick a horse for your carousel
Choose the ringer of the death bell
Tell someone your secrets
Reveal them your soul
Confess
Unchain the ghosts
That burden your shoulders
Peer into the infinite sunset
Face destinies soldiers
The abyss stares back in disbelief
Giving no relief
And time is quitting
So the seconds sneak by
The years seem to fly
And time catches up to you
Confess today…. before it’s too late

 

Some people follow God their entire lives
Some find God once their fate tastes bitter
But everyone gets on the confession carousel
No one escapes the final ride
Once time claims its victory over flesh
And screams out for spiritual release
You choose to tell, or remain silent
Be the pitcher………. or the batter
But for fucks sake, once your dead
Does it really matter?

 

Total Destruction, Only Solution (J. T. Hilltop)

 

 

From Cosmo and The Garden Earth.
When last seen, Cosmo was pissed about the dinosaur behavior ruining his garden…….

One morning while sipping some of his favorite caffeinated breakfast beverage, Thors Thunderbolt, Cosmo noticed some strange things happening in his garden Earth. His jumbo dinosaur creatures appeared to be having unusually sloppy sex and puddles of love juice were forming lakes. Also they had become far less discreet as to who’s appendage fit into which aperture. The gigantic creatures were rolling around crushing everything in their way. Tree’s toppled, boulders rolled all the way to Colorado, and even volcanoes had become stopped up with goo. And the moaning, oh my Cosmo it was so loud and frightening. Of course with Planned Parenthood not yet created it was no time before Pangaea became over crowded with giant baby creatures. Not to mention the swamps of dino-sperm on the Easter egg hunt. With the creation of inter-species fuckfests some creative mutations began taking effect resulting in a array of new characteristics. They were larger, wider, more angry, and exceedingly clumsy. Cosmo sensed some other major adaptations taking hold, fortunately nor including longer arms for T Rex.
The sex also seemed to make the creatures extremely hungry and they were eating twice the normal amount of his marvelous Flora. Many seemed to favor this one particular bush, or rather one particular weed, which seemed to give them even more voracious appetites but also made them sort of smile. Cosmo won’t swear to it but he believed munching the weed made his creatures laugh. At the very least they smiled more than the ones that didn‘t partake. Narcosaurs mostly. He wondered if it was co-incidence or if it was because of his cannabis bush causing the effects so he took a few homegrown plants to try himself. He decided he would let them dry out and smoke some with a bottle of Pinot Nuetron after dinner. As he continued to survey Pangaea another curious practice was observed. The creatures seemed to be fighting each other over sex, which was not really a colossal deal but it appeared that the winners where actually eating the losers as some sort of carnivorous prize. Believing it to be from the cannabis he referred to the practice as canibisalism. He opted not to try smoking the enticing weed just yet afraid of what it may make him want to do. The eating of the other creatures as a diet instead of just vegetation also made the meat eaters even bigger and stronger. He would need to keep an eye on these developments.
As time passed more and more creatures were killing each other and eating the remains. And damn were they multiplying. They engaged in sex virtually everyday and babies were everywhere. It was like some kind of Dino-nursery. Every day there seemed to be more and more, and nearly all the vegetation had been eaten. Not only that but they began biting kicking and scratching each other for no apparent reason. Many fights seemed to be over who had more dangling under their tail or who was going to screw the better looking female dinosaurs. Many times these fights caused some to fall down never to get back up. Cosmo was not happy with these developments at all. His garden of creatures was turning into a giant fight club fiasco. His behemoth experiments were simply much to big and clumsy. He decided he needed to start over and this time start with much more compact set of creatures. First though he needed a plan to extinguish and cover up his dinosaur debacle.
His first plan was to go subterranean. He began to churn up the ground at different points of the land masses of Pangaea. The shifting of dirt created numerous effects. The mass of land split in various places and Pangaea began to break up into smaller lands. A few dinosaurs fell off the edges, but for the most part they rode the land mass that they happened to reside on and just sort of relocated. Two chunks of dirt headed out quickly, one due north and one due south. Each went as far as it could go until it turned into a giant massive iceball. Every dinosaur on these arctic edges froze along with it. The other land masses fared much better. Cosmo now needed names now for the different masses. On the east he named his land masses North Columbia and South Columbia. Way across the newly formed ocean there was a dark mass he called Afrika, and a huge piece he called Eurasia. A smaller mass slipped down under while a very green land went slightly north. He would name them later. As for the dinosaurs they had begun to change and were ironically defined by their land masses. The creatures in North Columbia grew more aggressive body parts, like large razor sharp teeth, pointed spiny tails, and large muscular arms. Military adaptations. Cosmo believed they actually thought themselves superior. Called them Mericans. They tried to force all the others live the way they did. Pretentiousauruses! The dinosaurs in Africa were very wild and it took on a predatory nature of survival of the mightiest. In Eurasisa half fancied themselves the more sophisticated and chic while the other half absolutely excelled in math. They had all begun to mutate body parts that were used as weapons or as protective amour. Spiny heads and necks, horns, shells, claws, Talons, scales and many other features that assisted warfare or survival. They continued cross breeding and a host of new genus’s were born. Now he had some walking on two legs, some on four, some eating only vegetation, some only other dinosaurs, and many eating both. The flying dinosaurs alone mutated into over 500 species. The fights became rampant and more frequent and quite frankly it was pissing Cosmo off a bit. The shifting of the land also had an effect on the once enormous Pangaean sea which was all the water surrounding Pangaea. The other lands had created borders which split the Pangaean sea into vast oceans. New weather patterns and water currents came into play, and many of the places he churned up dirt had formed piles, ranging from tiny molehills to humongous mountains that reached up towards the sky. At first Cosmo tried to make all the dirt piles as majestic as the giant ones but he quickly learned he couldn’t make a mountain out of a molehill.
As time went on things just got worse and worse. The changes in the garden plots were great, but the dinosaurs were out of control. In each land mass they were carrying on and destroying the vegetation, trampling everything in their paths, kicking the everlasting dinosaur shit out of each other. If that wasn’t bad enough the fornicating was maddening. No matter where you looked in the garden you could find many dinosaurs letting it all hang out ready for reproduction. Giant penispods galore. Humping and swamp hopping there was sex going on everywhere. Puddles of sperm gathered that drowned the lower vegetation and while they were knocking horns and creating future fossils it tore up the ground and caused many a fight to the death. Genus were being wiped out, it was a constant state of confusion. The trees they had eaten clear down to the roots. They simply had no respect at all for Cosmo, his garden, or each other and that was the final sipping stick! It was time for a raptor rapture!
The angry Cosmo had had it. He reached up into space and grabbed the biggest asteroid he could hold and hurled it towards earth with all his might. Had it not been an act of destruction one might have thought it a beautiful magnificent sight. Upon impact a huge explosion of colors, bright reds and yellows danced tangos across the planet. A blinding flash of white so brilliant it could be seen as far away as the Tolkien Galaxy. Flames that reached so high they tickled the moon and made it giggle and squirm. Sheer magnifigance. Why it was a fireworks display fit for the gods. But mere minutes after the glowing kaleidoscope of destruction lit up the skies as if to remind everyone that its beauty was marred by violence it was quickly replaced with an ear pounding roar. Bursts of concussion inducing reverberation accompanied the evening festivities with a mushroom plume of billowing smoke dressed in charcoal black from head to toe. A snap. A crackle. A pop. Within seconds garden earth became Earth Krispies. The explosion kicked up an awful cloud of dust with it that pulled the rug of sparkle pomp and circumstance right from under its cosmic ass. For the longest time Cosmo could see nothing but an enormous floating burntout dust bunny. Virtually everything was obscured and he had no clue as to the fate of his living garden below. One thing for sure, if any of the suns rays got through at all it was undetectable. How could anything live without food, without light, without sunshine? Cosmo was absolutely certain he had lost everything. He underestimated the ultra tiny earth dwelling insect known as the cockroach. Will anything kill those bastards?
As time went by the dust began to settle it was becoming apparent not much if anything would survive. Even with only a portion of the dust gone he could see there was not much sign of life. The vegetation tried valiantly to reach back up towards the sun but with limited success. The garden seemed still and void. Even Cosmo couldn’t detect the tiny crawling cockroach foraging at the base of the stringy vines of vegetation. But trust me when I tell you, those cucaracha’s marched on. The once magnificent dinosaurs however were not able to crawl between any cracks let alone march anywhere. A massive open graveyard was all the gardening god could see. Humongous piles of giant carcasses littered the ground and whatever ground that could be seen was scorched to a grayish black. Nary a leaf or a pine cone to be found. Not even a blade of grass on this once animated garden of green and blue. Stacks of bodies and body parts could be seen everywhere with billows of smoke reaching out to the Milky Way cluster. There was a stench quite unfamiliar to Cosmo, charred flesh smelled nothing at all similar to a god BBQ. To call the aroma unpleasant would be an understatement. The forces of fetid decay banded together with burning flesh and gunpowder. The acrid odors began an all out assault that would serve as a rank reminder of the magnitude of failure here. Battalions of rotted mounds of foul fecal sewage mixed with dino debris formed an aerial assault. The army of stench marched up Cosmo’s nose and set up a camp of odoriferous angry troops behind his eyes. Some salted droplets of sorrow snuck down Cosmo’s cheek which he blamed on the carousel of stink spinning in his sinuses. Make no mistake though that was no dew drop, that was a god sized teardrop…..TBC