Tag: humor

T’WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE FESTIVUS

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

A Festivus visit
J.T. Hilltop

T’was the night before Festivus
When all through the house
The computer was buffering
I lost the wireless mouse

The gluten free cupcakes were baked with such care
In the hopes that the end of GMO was soon near
The children ate sugar free Nestles they had snuck in their beds
As visions of organic plums danced in their heads

Mom in sexy teddy who was straddling my lap
Had just bound my hands with our Festivus strap
When down in the kids room there arose such a clatter
I uncuffed and got dressed to see what was the matter

Away towards the window I flew like a flash
Dropping my medicine and my now legal stash
It fell on the breast of the new fallen snow
I watched in paranoia as my weed fell below

When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
A hallucination of Gramps and eight tiny reindeer
Like a leprechaun in red so lively and quick
I knew in a moment my eyes played a trick

A rainbow of eagles his coursers they came
He yelled at all eight and he called them by name
Yo Bashful yo Sleepy yo Doc and yo Sneezey
Hey Dopey and Grumpy and Happy and Sleezy

Hidden in the dresser where Mom hides her thong
Now dash away dash away while I get my bong
Then in a twinkling they climbed onto the roof
A dancing red leprechaun this must be a goof

I took a hit off the bong and was turning around
I opened my hand my pipe dropped to the ground
The dude dressed in faux fur from his head to his foot
He as laughing so hard he never noticed the soot

Bundles of sweet buds there on top of his back
Just like a drug peddler carrying a big fucking sack
His eyes how they twinkled, and his dimples they sank
His cheeks red as roses but his stare was so stoned it was blank

His droll little mouth drawn up like a joke
His beard on his chin was snow white from good coke
The stump of a chamber pipe he clenched in his teeth
Second hand smoke circled my head like a wreath

He had a broad face and a middle aged belly
I aired my first grievance “Yo Santa you’re smelly”
He was also too chubby quite a right fat old elf
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
He rolled a sweet fatty he bought from a dread
He spoke not a word but played his big role
In the middle of the room placed an aluminum pole

With a feat of strength placed a finger to his nose
An sniffed up more coke through a dollar bill hose
His grievances he aired till his team blew the whistle
And feats of great strength had broken the thistle
But I heard him exclaim the aluminum pole out of sight
Happy Festivus to all, and to all a good night

Enjoy whatever holiday you celebrate but take time to love. If someone says Merry Christmas say thanks, if someone says Happy Hanukkah say thanks, if someone says Happy Kwanzaa say thanks or if they want to honor all and say Happy Holidays say thanks. Be grateful anyone is willing to share good tidings or acknowledge your well being in anyway be grateful because the message is the same…. Live and Love in Peace during this and every other season!!!! Don’t hold onto love, share it….

YOU CAN GET ANYTHING YOU WANT

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

One of the main attributes of any good hippie is buying into the concept of non conformity. We were down with counterculture, down with breaking traditions, down with zippers, free love, and expensive weed. Tha said, many of us did indeed hold on too, and some of us still do hold onto a Hippie Tradition every November. Alice’s Restaurant is our beloved Hippie tradition and just about anywhere you go in the country you can find a radio station playing Alice’s Restaurant Massacree at 12 Noon on Thanksgiving day. It’s written and sung by Arlo Guthrie based on a true story about a hippie commune celebrating love and life on Thanksgiving Day along the hilarity and banality of events that followed. With a touch of creative license Arlo lays down a folk song with a tale guaranteed to make every true hippie smile. The tune lasts for 18 and a half minutes but for us aging rebels it goes way deeper than just a funny song, it’s a memory of an era. A golden memory. I know this story is very similar to many other potheads of my era but this is how the tradition I still uphold began for me….

As soon as I turned 18 I made good on my threat to move out of my parents house so I wouldn’t have to follow all the ridiculous rules while I was “Under our roof” in the authoritarian gospel according to Dad. So now I’m on my own in a shitty basement apartment in Kings Park with my hair no longer an issue to deal with on an hourly basis. Finally able to indulge in herbal activities without needing to be by an open window while burning incense. But I still had to go to Thanksgiving dinner at home because I didn’t move far enough away, and you just couldn’t say no to Mom. I was at the age where family get togethers were more of a torture once you’re no longer sitting at the kids table. That didn’t mean I had to go there unenhanced.

I invited my closest friends over for a pre T-day dinner soiree to get us all in the right frame mind to combat the inevitable bevy of put downs and why can‘t you‘s. So I told them to come on over around 11,we’ll smoke a few bowls and listen to Alice’s Restaurant on the radio. That’s how I sold it and the response was overwhelming. Eight of my closest friends stopped by and each had their own version of temperament enhancing herb. So we sat in the living room of my basement apartment, which of course was also my bedroom, rumpus room, den, and dining room. We sat around on milk crates and bean bag cushions passing chamber pipes, chillums, sticks of Thai, and even a well weathered meerschaum pipe. We were all feeling exceptionally good and listened to Alice’s Restaurant on our rock station. As usual it had us all laughing and grooving without any thoughts to what lay ahead with the family function. Each of us had reasons to not want to go to our homes for thanksgiving, most because we would get the litany of when are you gonna cut your hair?, what college are you going to?, why do you dress like that?, you call that music?, anything to put us down in front of the family. Not wanting to make the convergence into fake family fun all of my friends stayed until 2 o’clock and left my humble basement room feeling like we could take anything our families had to give. Although none of us were truly sure our feet were on the ground we trudged of with our smiles surgically implanted on our faces laughing for no reason whatsoever. As each person left we swore to do it again next year, same time.

Thanksgiving dinners became so much more bearable that day and the tradition continued the following year. By year three, two of the group had moved away, I had moved four towns away, and life began to just sort of happen. By year four it was two friends, each of us with our girlfriends, and after five years all of us had gone our separate ways but promised to keep up the tradition wherever we were. This year at least two of our original group have passed away, another two are just missing by choice, one doesn’t speak with me anymore, and of the other three I’m still in touch with one thanks to Facebook. Every year since I have listened to a radio at noon wherever I am and reflected on the friendships both lost and sustained and have found other friends who do the same thing. These days I no longer reflect on the eight revelers in particular, but all my friends and acquaintances from that era, some whom I have reconnected with on social media, some better left in my past, and all those who have passed.

So every year, I celebrate the epoch of the best people that ever lived, my hippie friends from the early chapters of my life, new hippie friends who lived through similar times, and other people who just love to hear Alices Restaurant each Thanksgiving. That’s what I‘m thankful for… Friendships, love, and a shared desire for peace and equality . My computer will be streaming Alices tomorrow at noon on Q104.3… Tune in and Turn on!! Have a fantastic Thanksgiving Day…. Live and Love in Peace

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

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

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

JT’s Culinary Career Becomes A Pile Of Crap

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

 

J.T. Hilltop… (From Zen and the Art of Culinary Maintenance)
The freaking manager and Maitre D’ of Cavarleiri’s Restaurant ran off with the Payroll and my hopeful culinary career was cut short. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to the fecal matter hitting the rotary oscillator but Cavalieris closing was a lot to deal with. I thought I had found my calling in the restaurant industry and the furthest thing from my mind was not being part of the gastronomic cosmic enlightenment enhanced with copious amounts of weed. No longer was I an apostle to a culinary madman, no more waitresses to flirt with, no more free beers, no more sneaking joints in the basement. I was now saturated with disappointment and disillusionment. I guess that’s how my Dad felt about me, but I’m not here to wallow in self pity, I’m here to tell my story. No money meant no weed and no weed meant I needed to seek another avenue of employment. Fast! I needed to shed the dry burnt out snakeskin of the restaurant industry and turn on to some other form of capitalism. I needed to get far away from any kitchen, any Chef or any sexy damn waitress. I need a sacrificial rack of lamb so to speak. I should do what James did when he was here, some fast money landscaping. So it came to pass that I had became the new landscaper for James olf boss Muncie at Muncies Field of Dreams. More accurately put, I had left the bottom rung of dishwashing to join the bottom rung of lawn mowing leaf raking topsoil carrying shit spreaders. I had chosen to become a hard working laborer and have my skin scorched everyday by burning threats the summer sun makes good on while enjoying the hearty aroma of freshly decayed organic manure. Enough about the perks though; let me tell you about the downside. Everyday ended the same, my arm and back muscles pound out a rebellious beat building to a painful crescendo. As I reach to cool my aches and pains with a cold beer it seem as though all my muscles tightened up into ball of overworked subdermal tissues and tendons screaming at every movement. My skin radiates a pinkish aura from hours spent unprotected by those relentless threats of the harsh sun. It left my neck and shoulders feeling like James gave them an Indian neck burn adding to my misery. As if that weren’t enough, the omnipresent stench of decaying crap had implanted its neverending stink carousel deep into my nasal cavity. Olfactory nirvana! Out on the field one of my less enviable jobs, if that’s even possible, was to take compost which was Muncies name for decayed animal shit, and spread it across a field. At first the smell of evaporating morning dew so earthy and rich comes rising up off the ground like a wisp of warm steam in a tease just waiting for its vile replacement. Breathe deep and enjoy the best of nature while it lasts because within seconds comes the dank aroma of compost. Its a blend of some of the most offensive smells I could ever have imagined. Horse shit, cut grass, worm infested leaves, and decaying matter are the less offensive stench. Once dumped on the ground the aromas of a horse stable had a meeting with a quarantined rest stop bathroom, and then joined forces with spoiled milk and dead mouse body to create a cacophony of disgust that slowly crept up my nasal passage and made an all out assault on all five of my senses. There it would stay to hang out for hours even after my day was long over. A rank reminder of my newly acquired hopelessness that was eased, but not eradicated by the beer. With a cannabis chaser of course.
Partying had come to a new intersection as well. Turn right and head up the morphine highway that was one step away from the dreaded H. Heroin, horse, dope. A dangerous path to be sure but as long as we kept just to the pills it seemed okay. To the left was an array of uppers and downers that had become much too routine for us. From the ritual of lighting up to the ritual of popping pills. Ken the salesman was in big demand and was spending way way too much time with the low life dealer Arthur. As for me I was required to wake up early 6 mornings a week and work my body into a pile of mush. But I had every night free to do whatever I chose. I had begun spending more and more money on drinking and drugs, supplying not only my head but Carries as well. And many evenings I took care of Sue as well because my best friend Ken was always out copping drugs to sell. I had begun doing diet pills every morning to keep me awake and give me the energy to bust my ass out in the shit fields and then popping downers to take off the edge of diet pills so I could sleep. As if that didn’t suck enough on days when it rained I would be sent home and not make any money for the day. I quickly went through my head money after a week of solid rain. The summer was coming to an end and I was making less money. Soon it would be too cold to do landscaping and I would be out of work again. Fuckin A man! I couldn’t remember how the fuck I got here but I knew I needed to get the fuck out real soon.
As if on cue that week of rain and crappy weather had set me in search of a new destiny. Again fate reared its ugly head and out of the blue came an offer to become an assistant groundskeeper at a local Nursing Home. How cool to be able to use my newly acquired skills on three locations and get paid even if it rains. That’s how it was that I became something different. Now I was a shit spreader with a title. The assistant groundskeeper with a special attribute. I was in charge of manure movement. Whatever, I was working and making money on a regular basis again. And the work wasn’t nearly as exhausting. Life was good again. Now I could concentrate on saving up my money. I began working in the yards of the three nursing home properties at Vierno’s Nursing Homes Inc.

To Be Continued

Waiter, There’s A Fly In My Administration, (a flies eye view of Watergate)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

Prelude
I swear sometimes its like they don’t even know I exist. Well, that’s fine with me because my Dad always told me it is better to keep your mandibles shut and be considered a fool than to make some buzzing noise and remove all doubt. Besides, with those new-fangled fly swatters and bug zappers, my species has been taking a huge hit in the census reports. I prefer to just sit on the wall and quietly listen to these humans ramble on about all their petty nonsense. Interesting surroundings here I must say, much too clean for this flies taste with not even a crumb or juice spill for me nibble on, but I am in The White House and this is The Oval Office so it is only a matter of time until I come across a big pile of bullshit.

My Confession, I Was The Fly On Nixon’s Wall

 

The short lifespan of a fly doesn’t have much in the way of excitement so when I woke up in the oval office of The White House I knew I had a good story to tell my grand-flies next week. You know it must have been quite a ride landing me here in DC with Richard Milhous and his cronies but truth be told I don’t remember much of it. Oh, yea I get it, you see me rubbing my hands together in a devious manner and think I have been making plans to take over the world but no, I am just cleaning the ah…. Puke of my arms. Anyway, more on that later. First, a little background about the life and times of a short-lived pesky fly who ended up on the wall of Richard Nixon’s oval office.
All in all a fly life is boring. Oh sure if we find some dead body and it is like an all you can eat buffet for the entire family but that’s just a night out to binge and purge. There’s not a whole lot of exciting occurrences for a fly. Avoid that sticky gooey tape thing, play dive bomb at people heads while they try and swat us, and wait around to find some tasty shit. Literally shit. We live short simple lives and have very few needs. Air traffic patterns to confuse predators, anti-web maneuvers which, by the way seldom work, friggin spider bitches, and some good rotting flesh or defecation. Basically, we eat, puke, and eat again. Not your fabulous eat pray and love idiom but what the fuck, we’re only flies.
Oh yeah, about that flypaper. That’s my pet peeve man it is a real bitch because you use fly pheromones so we think we’re gonna fly United and get laid when all of a sudden glop! Bastard humans make those sticky tapes smell just like lady fly fluids and I’ve witnessed many a friend die thinking he was gonna do some mid-air muff diving only to find himself trapped dangling in a gluey mess with a dozen other would be amorous flyboys. But I don’t want to bore you with the details of the danger of life as a fly I came here to share the interesting conversations I was privy to while I was hanging out in the oval office here in the Whitehouse during the days of what you humans call the Watergate scandal. From my vantage point on the wall, I was able to hear quite a tale with a cast of characters that, well let’s just say for them to call our larvae maggots is extremely hypocritical. They think their fecal matter isn’t odiferous but any fly worth its proboscis can smell a politician miles from the beltway. But how did I get here? Listen up man, I’ll walk you through it.

The last thing I remember from last night was falling asleep all snug in the hidden hair region of a woman that I picked up bar. I had just flown in from Boston and man were my wings tired. It was pouring rain so I found this cozy little bar in Washington DC looking for a safe place to rest when I saw Destiny. Destiny was her name and my destiny was to find a comfy place to sleep in her warm pubic bed which is exactly what I did.
Destiny was at the bar drinking and when some dude started hitting on her it woke me up. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone in a bar like this?” Phhhhtt. Real original! I started dozing back off because I had a feeling this clown wasn’t getting anywhere with that weak ass rap so I cuddled up near my curly hair snuggle mattress. Not much to worry about with an opening line like that.

But apparently, the dude was persistent. He told my cooch ride his name was George and he claimed he was some powerful man in DC. Oh, yea, and a Scorpio. Small talk? That was microscopic talk man, this dude was going nowhere. I fell asleep when he started asking Destiny what her sign was assuming Georgie boy wasn’t getting any sugar on this night. I got the feeling the asshole was married anyway and Destiny would no doubt pick up on that too so I felt safe and sound curled up in her warm curlies. But great God Brundle-fly was I ever wrong.

I woke up and found myself not in a soft perfumed curly muff mattress but in a dark coarse long brittle hair bed that smelled of cheap scotch and stale cigarettes. I found myself sleeping in the thick ugly mustache of none other than G. Gordon Liddy. How the blowfly did I get here? Seems somehow Georgie Porgie got lucky at some point last night and I was given a transfer to the thick Liddy Lip Central which gave me a bristly ride here right to the oval office of The Nixon White House.

Believe me, folks, G. Gordon was a real son of a bitch even by fly standards. Let me just say that I had no trouble throwing up on his smelly-ass lip rug to dissolve some of Destiny’s leftover love juice for my breakfast. He made puking easy. Apparently, he was some kind of bigwig in the FBI and has been screwing people over for a living for quite some time. He was a personal friend of the other asshole in the office, Richard Nixon. Think I’m bullshitting? Well, I shit you not my friends because Tricky Dicky here taped the whole thing which will validate my tale so listen to my story as they play the taped conversation and you’ll see what I mean.

“George, did you read what those Godless bastards at the Times wrote about me last night?” Even a fly can detect paranoia, and man did Nixon had a really bad case. George started rubbing his lip (yup, the infamous rug transferring lip) which is what caused me to relocate to the west wall. “Dick, I’m telling you, some sonofa bitch is leaking stories to those damn reporters and they want to print whatever they can to discredit me.. And The Whitehouse. What you need is an experienced, ah, um, plumber, a sneaky plumber to find the leaks and eliminate them.” Nixon was clearly angry and interested, “Your right George, those pricks are out to destroy me, to take me down.

Every chance they get The post, The Times, those pricks Sevareid and Reasoner, they’re all trying to screw Richard Nixon. Let me tell you George Richard Nixon will not be taken down by some leftist liberal atheist commie shithead. So man, what’d you have in mind?” George shuffled a little as Richard stared out the window. “Look, I have a source who tells me the Pentagon Papers were released by someone working for General McNamara. I have a name. The sonofa bitch copied classified files and now wants to leak them for his own agenda. There’s something I want to try. This asshole goes to a psychiatrist and I’m going to liberate the files of this ratfink bastard from the shrinks office for proof. Then we’ll nail his communist ass to the fucking wall! No one will believe a word he says. Listen, I know a few guys from the organization I can still trust, and with me as their chief I’ll find him and any other scumbag commie leaker and get rid of them all. You’ll never be implicated in anything, It’ll be my operation and I’ll run it. Of course I’ll keep you informed but this will give you plausible deniability.” Nixon smiled, “Plausible deniability? I love it George, okay lets go with that. You head up my group, the Whitehouse plumbers.” George was one of those control freaks who need to assert his dominance and replied, “Operation Odessa Mr. President, in here we can be called the plumbers but officially we’re Odessa, part of the Committee To Reelect the best President our fair country has ever had. I’m gonna get my guys together and I’ll report to you in two days. I already have my lead and he’ll be the first sonofa bitch to go.” Nixon shook Georges hand and said, “No names George, not yet. These prick liberals are trying to ruin me, ya know? They want to bring down America, become Commies and make it normal for our kids to be homos. I don’t think they even believe in God. You bring me some results and I’ll make sure you get rewarded.” George shook Dicks hand, “My reward will be serving you Mr. President, just leave things to me. I have the way to deal with the unpatriotic hippies. I’ll get rid of all your problems Dick.” George left and Dick opened a drawer of his desk picked up a microphone and softly spoke, “G. Gordon Liddy and President Richard Milhous Nixon, June 18th 1971.” and closed the drawer. Hmmm, odd these humans, they seem to secretly tape record conversations. I wonder why?
To Be Continued………..

After My First Kiss A Punch to The Heart

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn Keith Jaret, The Existential BakerLeave a comment

 

(from The continuing stories of JT and his quest for Culinary Nirvana)
I stopped off to see Kathy and bought a nickel of gold weed then went to the magazine store to buy a pack of big bamboo rolling papers. I was feeling a bit frisky, which is adolescent code for horny, so I decided I was the one who would set the tone tonight. The four musketeers met up by the corner of the schoolyard near the woods where many of us underage derelicts quench our mind thirsts with beer or wine or sometimes both. I hoped Ken would get out of being grounded, he almost always did, but this time he was busted with weed which was like the ultimate crime of the century or something. Felony pot smoking! Every suburban parent’s nightmare, a child that has been turned into a stoned out zombie from doing the “reefer madness.” Maybe his old man was just too drunk to remember what happened. Or maybe just beating Ken was lesson enough. I flipped when he showed up carrying a six-pack. “ Hey Ken man, give me the cardboard from the six pack, I gotta clean some weed.” This was a ritual in the neighborhood, copping some beer from an older brother of a friend outside the stores then rolling a few joints to get even higher. It was just another night in the land they call suburbia. On this eve we were a group of 12 strong all pounding down alcohol and puffing away on yellow gold high-quality marijuana. Someone suggested heading over to Beth’s because she was having a party and there in an instant and unanimous agreement. Ken grabbed me and pulled me to the side. “JT, did you take those pills I gave you last night?” “Of course I did bro it was awesome. I did the red ones and brought the other 4 with me. I figure I’ll do one and give one to Carrie and you and Sue can have the other two” Ken thought for a moment then said “Lets you and me do the tuies and give the girls one yellow each. The tuies are a lot stronger.” It was decided. We called over the ditz sisters and offered them each a Nembutal. Carrie took it without question and washed it down with some of my beer. A foreign feeling came over me, and somehow I just knew the moment was now. I grabbed her hand and held it like a boyfriend would feeling the sparks instantly. I knew Carrie could sense it too by the smile on her face and the odd twinkle in her eyes. I pulled Carrie in front of me and peered into her soul through her beautiful ocular portals. Without one single word spoken, with just one seemingly small act of mysterious energy, the whole of the cosmos shifted to a slightly uncomfortably yet fully confident and happy alignment. We exchanged nervous glances at first, and then looked deeply into each other’s eyes searching each other desires. Our eyes engaged in the only conversation necessary. With a sensuous and tender movement, our faces shifted slightly and slowly, very very gradually as we moved closer to each other. Maybe she was born with it, or perhaps it was Maybelline, but at that moment no other female had ever looked so amazingly beautiful, and for a brief few moments, no one else in the world existed. I felt a tingling that emanated from my groin and echoed through my entire body out through my fingertips as our mouths opened and our lips met with a furious and gentle tango explosion. All the blood in my body seemed to take the elevator straight to the top and made me wobble so that I nearly lost my balance. With our mouths locked tightly to each other, our tongues danced that tango, tossing and toggling inside each other’s mouths in a desperate search of our new raison d’etre. With slippery hormonal precision, our mouths performed the minute waltz in ten seconds as our tongues danced the entire Swan Lake to artistic perfection. Jesus shit man we were embracing in a wet and desperate lovelock of synergetic bliss. Eyes closed and mouths now hermetically sealed to each other our faces rocked gently as we both drank in the most incredible love infected chemical secretion either of us had ever experienced. We kissed and swapped salivary gland fluids for four or five minutes utterly oblivious to any lifeform outside are now combined nucleus.

My endoreticulum was running amok and scratching my back while it tickled my soul. I loved it! (see? I did pay attention in biology) The only sound in the universe was the soft panting and moaning of Carrie’s throat and the slightly louder moaning of mine. After what seemed like two lifetimes the magic was shattered by a familiar voice when Ken broke up the vibe. “Well, it’s about fucking time you guys.” We broke our lip lock and looked at each other knowing exactly what he meant, and we knew he was right. I think we both felt glad we waited because that was the most perfect kiss and saliva exchange in the history of Cupidon.
From that moment on Carrie and I would become inseparable, holding hands or walking with my arm around her shoulder. We were high from weed and beer, and soon the pills would be kicking in, and even if they didn’t fuck it, I’m in love which as of right now is the best high I have ever felt. Our friends looked at us as if this was how it had always been, no one even seemed to notice how different we felt. We, however, could not stop looking at each other, smiling and kissing the night away. The music was loud, the party was crowded, yet nothing existed outside of Carrie and me. We continued drinking and smoking whenever something came our way, and I gave the weed and papers to Ken and left him in charge. It was getting late, and we were very stoned and delighted. But time was running out in the evening.
No sooner did we decide to leave than a strange tension built up between us. Well not really between us but more like inside the both of us. A sense of anticipation and curiosity filled the small portion of our private universe. Ah, the moment of truth. Should we continue our adventure into adulthood or just take it easy? I felt that awkward feeling because we were headed to that moment we would say goodnight to each other and figure out what the next step of our relationship was going to be. Should I try to cop a feel and touch her breast, maybe take it further tonight or be happy where we are and wait? Suave and cool operator or caring respectful dude? The pills had one scenario and my mind had another. Should I make a move? Fuck man, what if I try for the tit and she gets pissed? Oh my god so much fucking pressure. Tuinols on one shoulder and my conscience on the other. As we walked closer to her house we chatted nervously and pointlessly about nothing. That’s when I realized she was sweating it out too. Well its time to make my move, be a man, do what a real man would do. But what man? Be like my asshole Dad? I’ll never get laid if I’m like him. Like Artie, the scumbag? No, he would probably rape her though I would never say that in front of Ken. Fuck man I have no role model since James got drafted. That’s it. What the fuck would Jameson do? He was caught having sex with his girlfriend once when her old man came home unexpectedly and caught them. They had to break up and James was a mess for months afterward. They got back together of course because they really do love each other but they had to steer clear of her parents. What kind of shit is that? He’s in the army defending I don’t know what an has to hide his relationship. What bullshit! But James was my hero so that was it. I’ll do like James would do. I stopped walking, grabbed Carrie and pulled her close to me. Our eyes met and I could see the look she had was curiosity with a side order of apprehension. “Carrie, I really dig you a lot, and I want us to have a long relationship. This love shit is so fucking confusing! Well if it is love we should be able to talk about shit like this so here it goes. “I want to have sex with you really bad right here and right now.” Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to be contemplating what would be next. I took a deep breath and continued. “But I want it to be right, the right place and time and the right reason. I just don’t think tonight is that time.” Now her eyes began to smile and I think I heard a breath of relief. She smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Without a single word we both knew it was the perfect choice. “Jesus shit JT, I want to have sex with you right now too but I don’t think, no, I know I’m not ready. But I would have if you asked me to.”

My relief was evident too, and I smiled and said “You would have?? God damn it, now you tell me.” We laughed and embraced each other holding tightly, and I am pretty sure she felt that uncontrollable male muscle pulsating slow and hard up against her hip. Life was beautiful, we were in love, and this new high we found was the best ever. We walked up to her house and stopped just out of sight should anyone be spying on us. We swapped spit, sucked face, made out, French kissed, toggled tongues, whatever the fuck you want to call it for 15 minutes before we said good night. I walked home like each step was taken on a carpet of foam rubber with my head so high in the clouds it took a special request from gravity to keep me on earth. I can’t wait to tell Ken. Jesus shit I hope this lasts.
I’m not sure if the incredible feelings I was experiencing was from love, beer, pot or pills. Most likely it was a combination of all the above but to say my head was spinning would be an understatement. I could feel the effects of all of them having a group hug in my cerebellum, but all I could think about was Carrie. Damn man, I hung out with her as friends almost every day and now all of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about her. I walked straight into my special little spot in the universe past my Mom who was mumbling something about the time, past the dinner table which generally beckoned me over for a tempting bowl of cocoa puffs, utterly oblivious to all the sights and sounds surrounding me. It felt like the giant smile not only went from ear to ear but wrapped around my head a few times. Fuck man, I’m in love!

For the first time in ever, I woke up happy and wide awake. I am ready to start the day a teenager in love. Think I’ll go into the kitchen and surprise my Mom with a kiss. The surprise was on me though because as soon as I got to the kitchen my dear mom was sitting at the table with a bucketload of tears in her eyes and my dickhead old man pacing and just mumbling over and over how “Everything’s gonna be alright.” Mom’s head was shaking, and all she could let out was a desperate sounding sob. She kept trying to catch her breath but sounded like she was going to choke. I looked at my mom, but my words were directed at my Dad. “What’s going on?” My old man looked at me with a shut the fuck up look on his face and spoke forcefully when he said, “Its not a big deal. Jameson has been shipped off to Viet Nam and is headed to a place called Quang Tri. He will be defending the honor of the entire country and our family because he is a brave son doing the right thing.” I knew it was half trying to convince mom, validate his hawkish war stance, and most importantly to him send a dig at my anti-war friends and me.

Mom was becoming increasingly more hysterical, so I chose to let that shit slide for the time being. In the calmest voice I had used with my Dad in some time I intoned outside of Moms audible range, “Dad, Jameson is going to Nam. He is going to risk his life for nothing. Not a big deal? No big deal?” Unfortunately my brazen in love self-began growing balls and my voice raised a few octaves. “ What the hell do you mean no big deal? James is going to fight in a bloody and senseless war halfway around the world.” I was using every ounce of Zen energy to remain composed, but the old shit was feeling guilty and believed increasing his own volume gave him some warped sense of authority. “First of all watch your language young man, you’re still living under my roof. We live in the United States of America and our country needs our help.” I rolled my eyes, yet he continued, “Just because you are a pansy ass chicken who’s afraid to fight doesn’t mean both my sons have to be.” The Old shit felt that his drunken slurring statement was in need of an exclamation point, so he slapped me hard in my face. I was stunned.

The shock converted quickly to anger, and it took every ounce Karma I had to not punch the shit out of his old drunk ass. Mom let out a little scream as my eyes burned holes in the wallpaper and my fingers began to ache from clenching. Being the better person, I headed back to my sanctuary to worship my stereo headphones and pretend I didn’t live in this hell hole of a house. My dickhead father, my wailing mother, and the thought of my brother shipping off to Vietnam for real had completely destroyed the fantastic feeling of love from my first kiss. Fuck them, I’m outta here on my eighteenth birthday!
TBC

I Got The News Today Oh Boy….(From Zen and the Art of Culinary Maintenance)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

 

J. T. Hilltop

Arties Quaalude parties where epic events and tonight’s was one for the records. We partied through the night high on ludes, shrooms, weed, and beer without a clue to what reality felt like. We laughed ourselves into the early morning hours unaware that time even exists. With Ken out of the picture for the night Patrick tried to put the move on Sue but I took him aside and set him straight. No harm no foul, it was the ludes that really gave him such big balls and Patrick wasn’t the kind of guy that would try and screw his friend’s girl. That is to say not without being coerced by a number of Quaaludes and herb. It was getting too late and time to head home so Carrie, Sue, and I headed for the homesteads hoping to sneak in unnoticed. We first dropped Sue off at her house, then Carrie and I hid in the bushes just on the side of her house. We made out for ten minutes and we both wanted to make love, especially with the enhanced desire from the Quaaludes, but doing it on her front lawn was not a good move and it was late and we had nowhere else to go. I gave her one long last passionate kiss goodnight and began my own trek home.
A myriad of thoughts were flooding my head and due to all the pills and weed combined with the shroom trip I began hallucinating wildly. This was not uncommon when you have been trying to maintain until it such a time as you could let it go like say the sanctity of my room. When you let your guard down the hallucinations flowed with the fury and passion of young love. Which by no accident was one of those swirling thoughts on this night. The smile on my face was so huge that my ears had to take a step back and make more room. The delirious joy from the ludes and the spiritual wonder of the mushrooms had begun to hit me in a tag team match. They both took me on at once kicking my ass and it felt unbelievably great. “Jesus shit, nothing in the world could possibly take me down!” But as we have learned the universe has it‘s own agenda.
I stumbled up the driveway feeling absolutely giddy until I noticed the kitchen light was on. “Oh fuck. Someone’s awake, this can’t be good.” I walked into the house sensing an uneasy feeling. That fantasy of life feeling was quickly replaced with trepidation. Maybe the parents found my weed, or I was busted for some dumb ass thing in school. I could hear my Mom whimpering in the kitchen. When I walked into the kitchen the tension in the air was thick as mud. It became obvious Mom had been crying for some time and the old man just stared at the floor with that dumb blank expression on his face he always seemed to have. I did my best to remain cool and not look as fucked up as I was, “What’s going on?” It was a familiar silence, the kind so tense and awkward your ears burned from the lack of noise. My head filled with heat and I was sure it made my face so red a beet would be jealous. Instant buzz kill from Mom’s laser machete chopping eyes swinging her anger at my general direction. Fuck me, don’t tell me they found my stash. But no. This was something far worse. After about 10 seconds of eerie nothingness my Pops broke the spell. “We got a visit from the army. James was killed in battle.” Mom broke out in a renewed set of loud heaving cries that I was sure had been going on for quite a while. I knew it. Jesus shit I fucking knew this was gonna happen! The rage built up quickly and I felt my face fill with anger, sorrow, and total disdain. I looked over to my old man and he never took his eyes off the floor. Didn’t even possess the balls to look me in the eye. I reflected on every Goddam fight Pops and I had over Vietnam, over government overreach and all the times I had to defend the fact that I wasn’t a shithead communist. I glared at him and all I could think of was how Ken had described punching his old man out for hitting his Mom. I wanted to go over and wail on him but my Moms crying stopped me dead. Stopped me dead? What a shit for brains thought that was for me to have. I looked past my war mongering old man and walked straight to Mom to hug her. My eyes filled up with salty rivers of sorrow. Jameson, my fucking hero, my big brother and only confidant dead. A senseless casualty of a senseless war. I began to cry as well and just held Mom tight as she cried in my arms. My whole world was now upside down, inside out, half assed, and backwards. The various drugs teamed up with the raw emotion and the result was a vortex of confusion, hurt, and anger.
My God praying Mom had an empty soul for the first time in her life. Her eyes were vacant and void, all red and beaten not just from tears tonight but from many years of worry and stress over her kids. I knew I was a major contributor to the weathered and worn orbs and felt ashamed at the moment. Her expression was blank, lost, at a complete emptinessm war,  of emotion. I had never seen anyone so detached and it worried the shit out of me. As I held her close I reflected on the better times James and I had, arm punch contests, purple nurples, and wet willies aside we were very tight as kids. Jameson always let me play ball with him and his friends and I thought back to the time playing football when he played quarterback and helped me score my first touchdown. “Okay JT, you take one step over the line, I’m throwing you the ball. You catch it, turn and run to the endzone.” Ha, the endzone. An obscure piece of real estate in between two large trees on our elementary schoolyard . The promise land of no rules pick a team football. He then turned to the rest of the guys in the huddle. “Any one of you mother fuckers lets JT get touched by anyone gonna get their ass kicked by me!” We laughed for days because I caught it, turned and ran my little ass off down the field and James and his friends used the most unethical and illegal forms of blocking, but not a soul touched me and no one from the other team dared to say a word. James was the best big brother anyone could hope for. For two weeks all anyone talked about in my Jr. High school was how JT made a touchdown playing football with the high school kids. It was gold. Jesus shit I’m gonna miss James.
I looked my Mom in the eye and said “Mah, remember the time James was chasing me around the house and I ran through the sliding screen door Dad had put in that morning? I thought you were gonna kill us both.” I could see the smile taking root on her face and her eyes lit up for just a tiny bit. I hoped it was making her forget if only for a short time the pain she was dealing with. I wondered if my asshole old man felt pain or patriotism but it didn’t matter either way, it was being numbed with cheap beer. But whatever, my Mom smiled probably for the first time tonight “Oh good god JT, you two were such terrors. You have no idea how much you guys put me through.” Mission accomplished, Mom was now reflecting fondly too. We exchanged stories for what seemed like hours, but it just felt good just to not see her crying. As for the old asshole, still not a word. Most likely he was wallowing in guilt and remorse. He was pounding down beer after beer and he looked drunk. I almost felt sorry for him because his sorry ass aura had no glow at all. Nothing, nada, zilch! Zero emotion as though he didn’t even have it in him to shed a tear. Beneath those red eyes was an empty sandlot.
I sat up with Mom for a few more hours until the sun began to shed light on what was a normal day for everyone else. Mom offered to make breakfast but I declined. My head was now pounding from the loss of James compounded by a killer hangover from booze and drugs. I went to my room slapped on the headphones and lay on the bed, not even bothering to take off my clothes. I have no idea for how long, but I stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep weeping. I slept hard all the time hoping when I woke up it will all have been a shit ass dream and James was waiting to kick my ass. Fuck war! Fuck Vietnam! Fuck me!! TBC

 

 

The Ten Suggestions

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

A SICK BASTARDS BIBLE PARODY SELECTION
J.T. Hilltop
Hint….this is a parody on a deep religious level, if you are offended scroll on by, but if you have an open mind and a sense of humor, read on

Most people believe that Moses walked down from Mount Sainai with ten commandments from God, but in reality it was just ten suggestions, because God was far more chill than the Good Book would have us believe. Here is the true story……

The Ten Suggestions
Moses tied his long hair in a ponytail as he walked some of his father in laws sheep up the mountain to his “spot” where he often went to chill out with some of that special crop God planted just for him. On this particular day he had stopped off at his best friends hut to roll up some of the dried leaves. “Oy Sammy, its me Moses, I got some bush to burn dude.” Samuel opened the door, “Aye Mo, wassup my main shepherd friend come on in your timing could not have been better. I have some malted barley beverage ready for our most awesome consumption .” Moses sipped the hop infused beverage as Samuel continued, “Wife’s been on my case all day and I need to dee-stress pronto baby.” The two friends shared a smoke and some drink giving them both that dulled serene head numbing to free them from the doldrums of mundane BC life they both needed. As soon as they finished Moses headed out the door filled with an attitude of gratitude putting the leftover herb in his robe pocket. “Catch ya on the morrow Bro, thanks for the buzz.”
Moses wandered up a mountain path tending the sheep until he came across his favorite “get high” rock where he often stopped. “Maybe I’ll have one more little hit” he mumbled to the uninterested fleece bearing ovines. About three quarters of the way down the masterfully rolled blunt there was a missed seed that popped loudly. An ember jumped up from the joint bouncing off his face and landing in a small bush by Moses feet. At first he didn’t think much of it but after a short time (minutes not yet discovered) the bush began smoldering. Moses was way to high to do anything but gawk until a voice startled him. “Hey Moses….Moses its me, Dad, The Man.” Moses looked around but not seeing anyone he anwered, “ Who what? Is that you Sammy? Holy crap Sam you were right about that beer shit man.” Moses took off his sandal and pounded it on his head, “Hear that man? That’s my skull…. I’m sooo wasted!!” Moses looked around but saw no one. The voice spoke again, this time in a serious deep vocal instructional tone, “No Moses,its not Samuel you fool. Its me God. You know the father of everyone. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the earth and everything. Gardened of Eden, grower of apples, creator of the world, the father of everyone. I’m the lord God, the supreme one. I‘ve rsted up on the seventh day and now I‘m rreasdy tpo get back to business.” Moses stared at the smoldering and mumbling bush, “Come on Sammy cut the shit man, you’re scaring me Bro. How the fuck do you do that voice?” The bush burst into flame and began to crackle, “Its not Samuel and stop cursing. I hear you cursing all the time and it has got to stop. I also know what you think when you look at Sarah. She’s not your wife, you shouldn’t think about her that way! And while I‘m on the subject I also know what you’re thinking about when you look over the sheep.” Moses was still leery thinking maybe he was just too high but also feeling some inner guilt and worrying about his ability to see. “What? Sarah? Sheep? I am not going blind I just …..Hey wait, you’re who? Did you say you’re my father? That ain’t funny Sammy, you know my old man died last year.” The bush began shaking in a show of anger tossing embers everywhere, “Not YOUR father you dipshit, everyone’s father, the Lord God, creator of the world. The supreme being. And I told you to stop cursing. Matter of fact that’s one of the things I came here to talk to you about.” Moses walked closer to the bush, “So you saying I’m talking to the Lord God and you have some important shit….. Ake mushrooms or erm, stuff to talk to me about? Man this chronic is stronger than anything I ever had. I‘m hallucinating my testicles off.” Moses took one more toke then tossed the roach aside, “So if you really god, the what’d you call it, supreme being, where’s your sour cream?” Although it was merely a bush Moses could sense its frustration as the flames flickered. The voice got really loud, “I’m not a friggen burrito supreme you hapless idiot, I am the supreme ruler of all men, the lord god almighty himself and I’m here to give you instructions on what I expect from you. I hope to Jehovah I picked the right Moses. There aren’t any other Mosses’ in town are there?” The bush was shaking again, “Nah G, ain’t no Moses but me. But trust me, if you need something done Pops I could do it, just tell me what you need.”
God went on to explain to Moses all the tasks that lay ahead. “Go to the elders of Israel and tell them that I have appeared to you and told you I have watched over them and know what went down in Egypt. Tell them I have promised to relieve their people of the misery by the Nile into the land of Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, and the Pez eating Pezanites. I have asked you and Joshua to lead them into the promised land, the land of milk and honey, peanut butter and jelly, and once they see what lays ahead they will never believe that sliced bread was the best thing ever.” Moses was a bit uncertain and felt that a deal of just milk and honey and peanut butter and jelly wasn’t enough so he negotiated to receive some Manishcewitz wine, Knishes, and a Halvah candy bar as well. That would help to cure his munchies. Both sides walked away satisfied yet apprehensive, but the deal was done. Moses was to free the Jews from Egypt and bring them back here to Mount Sinus.

Transcendental Medication (Act III)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

From Act II
< She was very attractive with piercing hazel green eyes and long straight black hair tied up neatly in a swinging ponytail but allowing perfectly cut bangs to cover her forehead. Her eyes were as stunning as a Montana sky and just as vast. Butterflies had left my stomach and created a chrysalis caravan traveling through my digestive tract straight towards my reproductive organs. It was complicated even more profoundly by her sensual and suggestive tone echoing through my soul. Maybe she wasn’t even there to begin with, the line that separated reality from non-reality had become wafer thin.>

<Nothing is the absence of anything. Anything is something so nothing must be something if its anything>

 

 

III Begin At The Beginning
J.T. Hilltop

When I got home from The Holistic Center still feeling sluggish from the hallucination induced medicated acupuncture needles the first thing I did was pour myself a big glass of wine. A very big glass of wine. I needed to process what just happened today and decide if it was wise to go back. The more I thought about the nurse I was with the more I feared it was all in my head. Was I imagining some pornographic manifestation of a dominatrix nurse? A scene from “Romancing The Bone” or some such weird porno movie in the hopes of some spiritual sexcapade while under acupuncture meditation? Was it just a wet daydream? Maybe I’m hoping for a close encounter of the supernatural sexual kind. Everything about it seemed so very real and she seemed to know me intimately. Besides I need to know what the hell this everything is nothing bullshit was all about and how far I would be taking this so I’m definitely going. Then again what if I go back to the opposite universe and its Dr. Kha that ties me up and toys with my pleasure zones. Erotic adventures involving Dr. Kha’s thermometer probes and patient doctor confidentiality. Then again if it is the nurse she was so hot and so sexy my libido did triple somersaults with a full twist and was hoping to stick a landing. I would have made a contract with the devil himself for an evening of exploration with her but who and what can I trust? Doctor Kha said equal and opposite! I’m not even sure if she was a manifestation of my inner desires or if that sweet temptress really exists. She seemed like eve thing but maybe its nothing. So fucking confused!
I near guzzled the first large glass of wine and as I poured a second I glanced at the calendar. My eyes went directly to two days from now, Friday the 27th. Twenty seven is a good number as numbers go. Two is balance and union and seven is a very spiritual number in nearly every religion. Together they add up to nine which is the highest level of changes. Hmmm, union, balance, and change! I looked away closing my eyes as if to think about it but I knew my mind was made up. I mean a night of deep philosophic discovery contemplating the secrets of science followed by a fantasy involving wild abandoned sex, what’s not to like. Secrets of science? OMFG, have I become a nerd? Maybe so, but when I wake up Saturday morning I will be one happy and satisfied nerd. I glanced dreamily back at the calendar but all I saw were those beautiful hazel eyes filled with longing and promise. Friday it is!

Of course Friday couldn’t possibly have dragged on longer if it were fitted with friction bars. From the moment I woke up all the way through the day all I could think of was my dominatrix nurse. I made four errors on my lunch orders at the restaurant which is four more than usual, and my head just wasn’t in it at all. But the shift finally limped slowly to an end and I flew home to prepare for my journey. Nothing was on my mind. That is to say the everything sort of nothing. Oh yea, sex was on my mind as well. Maybe nothing but sex but I was very excited on so many levels. After the longest shower in history I did my best to look my best and it certainly wasn’t for nothing, at least I was hoping it wasn‘t.
When I arrived no one seemed as excited as I was, acting as if this were just another mundane visit. Maybe it was for them but I came here to be enlightened and turned on like never before. Dr. Kha led me back to my cot, my waiting room to experience nothing, and began inserting his medicated needles. “Hmmm, I feel much tension JT, I think I need put more puncture in foot today. Not want you running away, eh?” Kha chuckled as if it were some inside joke but I barely heard him at this point. He knew something was up, or rather that nothing was up, or was going to be up but lest‘s not go there. “Just really looking forward to what’s in store Dr. Kha, to pick up exactly where I left off the other day.” My smile must have been huge. “I see. Remember JT, every session new session. Like snowflake nothing ever exact.” I turned to look at him but he was already gone. I thought about a line from The Wizard of Oz and laughed, “My, people come and go so quickly here”, then I laid back to meditate while thinking of other Oz quotes. “Some people without brains do an awful lot of thinking, a heart is not judged by how much you love but by how much you are loved by others, you’re confusing courage with wisdom my friend.” I entered my zone, incense and music comforting me, a soothing sitar solo and I was transported again.
“Dr. Kha?” I pushed my way past the smoky curtain of dimensions. “Very clever JT, using Wizard of Oz. You think other dimension same as Oz for Dorothy? Maybe you same than Dorothy.” I could feel a strong burst of air pushing me back towards the smoke curtain and had to fight it off. “You gotta admit there are similarities Kha, I know I’m not in Kansas anymore.” The air kept me at bay. “True, no Kansas JT, but no Oz either. If you want learn about nothing you need to enter completely.” I fought off the air blast, “I can’t seem to get any further this air current is keeping me away.” Kha smiled, “No air current JT, is nothing. Nothing is what keep you from moving forward. If you want to understand everything you must first conquer nothing.” Conquer nothing? What the hell is he talking about? I concentrated hard and the wind stopped. I could see my nurse off in the distance, on the other side of a pond or something. She caught my eye and smiled. I looked back at her and then at Kha.
What you see is desire JT, but before you receive reward of what you desire lesson must be understood. You are in paradox JT, time and space much different than what you know. In this dimension Schrödinger’s cat exist and not exist” I shook my head full of doubt, “Are you saying we are in a box Kha?” He laughed loudly, “Box? No JT, here no box, but here always need think out of box. No use logic, use sensory instincts. Let feelings guide you.” I glanced back over the pond but no nurse. “So am I really here or am I still laying on the mattress?” Kha smiled, “I sorry JT, cannot answer. Anyway wrong question. What you should ask is when are you here and when are you on mattress. First to understand time you need let go of perception. You measure time in linear progressions, seconds, minutes, hours. But time constant and wobbly, no straight. You have already existed and already ceased to exist, time not wait on you. Your life is how you experience time, how you put it in order to understand. But time not linear JT, time flexible.” Kha pulled out a yard of string, “This your life JT. For you it have beginning and end. But time have no beginning, no end, time ownry exist. You see your life from one end of string to other. If I give you string in different pieces you think it useless, just like if I show you your life at 19, then at 5, then at 30. Not make sense because out of order yet it all happen. That ownry way you can see time, moving straight and forward every second. If you want see time as time truly is need more than acupuncture and meditation. For special people I give special transcendental medication. Combine acupuncture with special medication to help you understand. I believe you ready but it up to you JT.” He paused looking at me as if I needed time to consider, but he must have known if my life has already been that I was going to go for it. “Dr. Kha, I want to understand. It would be my honor and a privilege to undergo transcendental medication.” I gave him a sly smile, “When did I start?” I looked at him hoping he got my joke and saw he was smiling. “Very good JT, I see I have chosen you wisely. I leave now but I back to arrange session.” He pointed across the water to where my fantasy had been waiting, “Meantime, I recommend you take rowboat across pond.”
Right there in front of me was a small dinghy with oars. I jumped in and rowed like a maniacal teen about to lose his virginity towards whatever waited for me across the pond. When I got there the other side it was even more amazing than I thought possible. It was like an island paradise, brimming with plants, trees, and flowers of all colors. It smelled clean and new, lilac and fresh cut grass with a sense of serenity. I followed a path taking in the sheer beauty around me. Flowers with their genitals boldly hanging out on display for all to see, giving off intoxicating scents to tickle the minds of men. With every breath I felt desire building up inside me awaiting release. Then I saw her.
Not a nurse, not a dominatrix, not even an exotic island native woman, but that gorgeous hazel eyed enticing beautiful woman from my first visit dressed as if for a date “I’m so glad you chose to come back JT, I am Ambrosina. I’ve been waiting for you. Come here.”
To Be Continued

 

Tears Of A Smiley Face

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

Jesus Christ my mirror is broken
I ain’t joking the bloke inside looks like he’s croaking
The figure I see could die from the choking
Too many years of toking and smoking
I have a notion his minds lost forward motion
Direct result of his explosive emotions
But I’ve misspoken
The figure that be isn’t the me that I see
A reflection of what all the others perceive
Not the young me wearing his age on his sleeve
Don’t mean to deceive but I don’t think they see
The once virile that man I believe I should be
A young mans reprieve in my minds reality
But let me intercede
They just don’t see a strong heart of stone
Just an old man alone with nothing to show
But a history of abuse and deteriorating bone
And far too many opportunities all of which be has blown
Now a victim of age all on his own
Meet the old man owning Osteoporosis
Cirrhosis and narcosis in a body atrocious
Struggling through life in an ageless psychosis
So many maladies it makes me precocious
So focus
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Work that shit into your rhymes bitches
Then tell me this ain’t so dope it leaves you in stitches
While you scratching your itches and counting your riches
Yea its got glitches both pernicious and malicious
But its gritty and witty nutritious and delicious
Don’t be so suspicious
I’ve got so many regrets they’ve been repossessed
I’ll keep them suppressed at your behest
So I’ll gladly confess to all my crimes and excess
But I digress
As a sign of the times I try to read between the lines
The wrinkles define why I cry and I whine
Behind the hazel cry soaked old eyes
Hides a soul blinded by this life and it’s lies
No one wants to hear bout the lows and the highs
They just sympathize hearing bout my demise
Wrinkles and crows feet my conciliation prize
Old but not wise
Maybe they see a smiley face his eyes all a shine
Never once guessing that inside he keeps crying
Once he was flying now waiting and dieing
Or maybe I’m lying
Maybe I’m no more than a book on a shelf
Pissing and moaning feeling sorry for myself
Crying on my lonesome because I screwed up to the hilt
The Pinball Wizard who keeps hitting a tilt
But this broken life is all I have built
So fuck me I suck
I’ll dry my eyes on my guilt

 

Live and Love in Peace