Words To Live By (Sixty-Six Years Old, Bee Earnest, Eastern Star Miss Three-Three, Mid-West Region) Sunday, July 4, 2021

 Looking back on it...the move was all wrong. Period. Should have thought it out more, drawing out the web of treachery and deceit, takes not only time but fucking sweet butt fucking planning.  But these young guys be buggin, for real. Want ta do shit all fast and shit. No! No! No! Motha fucka you! Fucking no! You can't go about that shit like that, no motha fucka gonna take some plannin! If yo ass lookin at five years, decide on ten! If yo ass lookin at ten years look at fifteen.... Listen to me, if you don't remember shit I have eva told ya, remember this: "If you over sale you fuck yourself. If you under sale those some happy motha fuckas for real!" ...

(to be continued...)

Disjointed (NETFLIX)

 So the motha fucka held the door open for her and shit. She went through the opened door and looked back at him. He smiled and looked her in the eye and said, "In about three hours I will have the perfect thing to say to you in this situation, but right now my ass is speechless." 

Motha fucka mackin his ass off fo sho!

Tell Me About It...I'm Here For You!

 Being married myself for over sevens years and listening to endless amount of banter and observances, I have deduced that there are two distinct categories or reasons why, I have witnessed, people get married are:

For Love And Peace

Or

For More Loneliness and More Despair

Please indulge me Dear Readers? What category are you?

Taken Care Of My Lovely Third Bitch (Forty-Six Years Old Black-Japanese American, Tank Mei, B.S. Radio/Television, Butler University, Now Licensed OTR Truck Driver) Sunday September 13, 2020

When I first saw him I knew he was a he. But then a brotha needed a job, this freight liner twenty-three years ago was training a future Truckee free if the subsequent now Licensed Truckee after aforementioned free training, stayed with that company for eighteen months after being trained and licensed. Walk in the park! And sign me up! ‘Cause you bout to get a nigga paid!

We would go out and go over the truck, doing safety checks with the other trainees…all the while I’m thinking, “I’m gonna be ridin in a big ol long dick all day. This is some gay ass shit for real.” But a brotha needs some good money like this company’s gonna be payin once my ass start ridin that big ol dick. See, that shit don’t sound right at all! Like Seinfeld said, “Not sayin there’s anything wrong with that.” But if yah gotta ride a dick for money it may as well be a big one. So, here we go! Down the fuckin rabbit hole. Especially if ya don’t know what to do with a big dick let alone a little one.

But everything I said about what I thought about being a big ol dick and shit…well…you can throw that right the fuck out the window! Shit! A nigga was wrong! Fo sho!

Ya see? I was finally going to get my chance to go out with the instructor, training on the big ol dick. We went up to it on the driver’s side. She smiled at me and said, “Hop in,” as she went to the passenger's side to, ‘Hop in.” And all I’m thinkin is, “In?” You don’t “Hop in” on a big ol dick, yo ass “Hop on,” a big ol dick, that’s if you like dick! Dick in or on don’t make no damn difference, a dick by any other name motha fucka! Shii-ought! Other than that, this Truckee thing is lookin up!

Well I hopped in and it beautifully happened:

I fell in love with a bitch disguised as a man!...

D-N-R (33 Years Old, Yeyla Function, Enlightened Molecular Scientist) Wednesday March 3, 20-21 @ 3:33 AM

Democrats or Republicans!  My ass! Shit, when those motha fuckas want ta fuck us they sho in the fuck know how to become fuck buddies PDQ don’t they?! Both of the parties workin togetha, shakin hands across the aisles and shit! Unbeknownst to US and shit. In closed chambers you bet your ass! Ya feel me! Workin like fuckin slaves to try their best to fuck over the other slaves! Absurdity acting in purity…

(to be continued...)

Illegal Alien (BBP)

He felt alien himself now; felt…eerily uncomfortable outside of his home. Inside was a whole nother matter. Inside, he felt at peace. He felt life. 

Outside the rules were set up to not feel like life is all around and he was within that same life but, outside his door…

You are different. I am me. And I am special amongst all the rest, so fuck’em all!...

Alas, he was here my friends who so humbly are reading this right now. One hundred percent, he was here! And the same society that is buying the Luciferian Credo: I’m the motha fuckin Devil in charge motha fuckas! And if you don’t get out of my way, there’s gonna definitely be blood on the flo’! And the shit on the flo’ will definitely not be mine!...

(to be continued…)

PIPE LIFE: Getting Clean Before Thy Death Befalls

Don’t fear, that should be in the rear, a spear to the queer. Sodomite delights entices the multitude with its rude ill behavior, layers gone from Our Father’s skin of pain.  Detain the last remains while I dry before I get so fuckin high!  I cry and I rumbly sigh in an exasperated, defecated…silage from the deep lungs trying like hell to expel the fetid inhale of this PIPE drug called: LIFE.

I Wish You Were Here!

Sending stars from above as the lift off occurs.Blurs through my sight as the lights of the earth get a little smaller.

I holler from the lovely emotion speeding toward the atmosphere

as my soul starts to level off.

I select a better view as the jettisons stop.

I hop on my back to pay attention to outer space,

throwing up a peace sign as I stare in wonder;

as the thunder rumbles through my back and out of my chest,

aftershocks from the sky a little below me.

The best is yet to come as my soul gets ready for re-entry

being gone what seemed for so long.

I land so softly upon the green earth, touching down.

I turn around and say,

"Fire it up again nigga! 'Cause I'm goin for nother round!"

The sound is tremendous as the smoke is sucked in,

the rockets burning off what isn't needed.

BBBoom!

It's lift off. . .all over again...

Everyone's Light Shines Just As Bright! It Is Finished! Amen!

I am the light which shines so brightly amid the fog. 
I am the light which shines so brightly throughout the smog.
I am the light which shines so effulgent;
I am the light which never dims nor has bent.

I have been Heaven sent!
I am the Sun of our Father's Son;
I am a religious Holy one.

Disarm Us...Please?

 The fail to inhale the sins of the winds debunks the avowing of wins; sends our Father's words to the absurd; curds being over bitter to the Federal babysitter of such disturbing vices, entices the many purists of the moral panics. Manics sick from the accusation picks of a dreaded many complimentary masks to no avail to the prevail of a cure. Pass tasks to tax, finding a pristine pipe for spite. Hit it just right! 

It's going to be a long mourning to wake up one morning and not be able to shoot or; alas, to fight. 

Erased Ink Stained Signature

  The hype with not a single character type. Sans pen and paper nor a signature to witness the ubiquitous sickness of breached lies. Belies the greed of the numerous misdeeds upon our vital life's blank landscape of blissfully dreaming. Scheming to murder with a serrated knife slicing through without a tingle nor single nerve ending being disturbed, numbed. The signal to mingle with the bloody alarm to thy death will come, "We are slowly exsanguinating and will most assuredly die and ultimately fail." Sail the vast opaque oceans without a lifeboat to the various potions to heal; with high hopes to finally close the seal of this horrid Luciferian Deal.

Pay Up Thy Hedonistic Heathen!

 I see the fees that frees. I'm not going along with the Nihilists sprees. The seas filling up with the dregs who beg. Reneges all the patriot niggardly ways on display. Pays a mighty price to all of US mice not men. Pen and pencil stencils the pixels of the aperture fractured. Torture and rape what our Father's  promised that has been compromised to the human signature without gauge in the righteous religious' prefecture on permanent delays. None the least, we hold captive our blessed human nature to fleetingly savor. Chronic abhorrent misbehavior. It's time...to pick your favorite flavor? The choice must be: Our Forgiving Savior.

POAC-FI

Doubt is a mothah fuckah! Straight up! Yo monkey ass thinkin yah got everything in check. Shiiit! Then yo ass starts thinkin all crazy and shit! Well, what if this? Or what if that? Fuck that shit! Fuck it! Fuck it! And did I say, "Fuck it?" If I didn't...fuck it! Yao Ming? If yo tired ass has a plan, fuck all that doubtin bullshit! Execute the shit and let the chips fall where they mothah fuckin may! Goddamnit! Bettah than where yo ass is now, worryin yo ass silly bout the what-the-fuck-ifs! Damn all that noise! While yo broke ass stagnatin! Plan it! Organize it! Actuate it! And Carry that bitch the fuck through! And after all the shit is said and done...Fuck It! Yah heard may? Peace! More to come...

Geoengineering, The Prophecy: The Man Made Revelations (Fifty-Five Years Old, Pyle Driver, Theological Scholar) Friday September 11, 2020

 The Earth is comprised of 75 percent water and 25 percent of land. So too is the human body, 75 percent liquid and 25 percent solid matter. Now, yo ass can keep lookin at this shit whatevah way yo sorry ass wantstah look at it, but the end is nigh! Call my Black ass crazy if yah wants to. But the shit is what it is!

I ain't seen rain, thunder, lighting, heat...whatevah the fuck, like I'm witnessin right now. Like the human body where you can tell what the fuck the symptoms are to determine the fuck is wrong with yo body. The Earth is tellin our sorry asses something is the fuck wrong! Damn right bout that. 

If yah read Revelations in The Holy Bible, it conveys very clearly the three cataclysmic events that are going to happen when shit is bout ready tah pop the fuck off: A Super earthquake; A Super Hurricane (Or some other water affiliated disastrous event); and lastly, the kicker if you will, A Super Volcano. The last will send this Earth into a Nuclear Winter, killing over 95 percent of this world's population. 

Say and do what you mothah fuckin want. Open yo mothah fuckin eyes, ears and soul. Move to the high ground! Pray! Cause this shit is gonnah get much worse! And it is here to stay!

Call me crazy if yah wants to! And I ain't tootin my own horn or comparin myself tah any damn venerable body...but...they called Noah a Loon too!

Yah heard may?

Peace! More to come...

Real Good Shit! (Black Heroin Addict) 1986

 I cook the shit to make the hit. The little cotton ball purifies it all. I push the plunger. The thunder rumbles through my veins. A cooling, soothing liquid abating my plethora of pains. I feel this world slipping away and that's more than okay! I smile and I sway; lost in my smack filled haze; hoping there will not be any other days. Umm! My eyes close languidly; I open them the same but tranquilly. My head bobbing like I am sucking my own dick. Going in and out of conscientiousness but I am far from sick. I smile again, at the absurd sight, of the needle still dangling perilously within.

Religion: Makin A Better Fucked Up World!

 You evah thought bout this here damn religion bullshit? I mean, don't make no fuck bit of sense whatsoevah! Keepin the slaves at bay. Oh, they got that ass! Oh, yes they did. I ain't crazy! No! No! No! Learned long ago, yah gostah give those niggahs hope!

"Fuck that monetary bullshit!
I know...let's give'em nothin!
A fuckin deity...
God! Yahweh! Allah! Buddha! Combayah!...

And a fuckin lavish or fucked up Temple...
Is gives ah fuck! 
Put any name yah wanna on that bitch, but I don't owe you shit!
You broke, poor, pitiful mothah fuckahs!
Just fuckin ignant fo no damn reason but tah be ignant!

Ten Percent? Fuck that I wants all yo shit boo-boo! Er-fuckin-thang!
Fuck! You!
You super-silly-mothah-fuckahs!"

And the beat goes ohn! Oh yes it does, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! Um!

Peace! More to come...

It's Only A Matter Of Time

 The world is fucked up! That ain't no kinda epiphany tah yah. And I sho in the fuck don't have tah say it twice b'fo yo Broke sorry asses tah understand. Yao Ming? 

Knee deep in this shithole! And the shit is constantly risin. Pretty soon gonnah have tah tilt yo head back so yo fuckin nose won't be inhalin the shit directly intah yo lungs. Ears cloggin the fuck up with shit. But all yah doin then is buyin yo self a lil mo time until the inevitable happens...cause the shit's perpetually risin and yah have tah breath! 

Eventually we all choke aftah inhalin, physically, the raw sewage into our lungs. Those same lungs fillin up with the shit. Then yo sorry ass can honestly gurgle, "I'm actually drownin in this shit!" 

Peace! More to come...

There's God! Then There's This Religion Bull-to-the-Shit! (Nevaeh Wright, 23 Years Old, Existentialist) Monday November 09, 2020

The old saying goes, "If yah scared, then go to church." Mothah fuckahs get scared and go tah church. Then yo sorry ass still gots the nerves tah be scared? The fuck! If yo ass is goin tah church and still fuckin scared, then yo ass just fuckin off! For real! Like the Drill Sergeants say in the military, "You just dickin the dog son!"

But we got Black ass mothah fuckahs, and white ones too, thinkin Judaism was the chosen religion by God! Like, we all just tryin tah get ah seat on a flight, tryin like hell tah get the fuck out-of-the-fuck-here, just waitin for the "chosen few" tah get bumped! If yo sorry ass lookin at the shit like that, yo ass needs tah get the fuck out the goddamned terminal and drive, ride a bike, walk...I's really don't give ah good fuck, cause that shit just ain't gonnah happen! Evah! If it's goin down like that. That's some fucked up customer service fo yo ass! And yo ass needs tah find anothah carrier goddamn it!

Fuck the Baptist! Fuck the Apostolic/Pentecostals! Fuck Judaism! Fuck Muslims! Fuck Buddhists!...and definitely fuck those damn catholics, with y'alls sick asses! Worthless pieces of dogshit! Cosignin fo Pedophile Priests!? The fuck!?

You think God gives a good fuck what religious sect yo stupid ass is involved in? That's Our shit, human's shit! Not, God's shit! We been fuckin round with the wrong ass shit! Putrid! Quite fuckin malodorous, to say the least!

But since we surrounded by the toxic methane gas this religious shit produces, that Our broke asses gotstah deal with, put your gas mask on (make sure you clear that mothah fuckah first). Kick ass! Take numbers! And start tellin the fuckin truth bout this here life! 

These so called religious fuckers wouldn't know the truth if God himself came down and slapped them mightily on both damn cheeks! Pa-dow, pa-dow! Nothin! The truth sans religiosity is the only way we gonnah stop smellin shit and havin tah put up with this bull-shit! Yah know. Word to your mothah fuckin Mother and Father...and anybody else! Yah heard may?

Peace! More to come...(God willing)

Indulge Not! (BBP) Friday December 25, 2020 @ 12:01 AM

The courses of deceit are replete with starch, not meat;
Tries to defeat the primal animal in the cannibals as we;
The treacherous application may bring a satiation to one which stands on fours
Instead of Two;
And the revenge of thy premeditated ruse, thou transgressor...
Will thee definitely rue.

The A-B-C of Offense In Basketball (Chloe Penser, Head Coach Butler University's Men's Basketball Team) Monday February 03, 2025 @ 3:13 PM Hinkle Fieldhouse

"Excusez-moi messieurs! Excusez-moi! What are the A-B-C of offense?" Coach Penser said conversationally to the Bulldogs at halftime losing to Xavier at this point 33-31. "Anyone?" Again in her thick French accent being only a duel citizen of the United States and her Mother country France for a little over three years. "Personne?" She asked?

Then the 6'3' point guard asked, "Personne? The fuck?" Kwame Dabney asked.

She glared at him and he instantly looked down at his hands while his thumbs twiddled. Coach Penser was only five foot one inch tall but was formidable. All fifteen players on the team was reminded of their perspective Mothers' when they interacted with her. But oft times she would say a word or sentence that the players were not familiar with and they would question her, like now. She was trying to teach them slowly of her native language but now was not the time, making the many mistakes they had made in the first half. Non, incroyable! Mon Dieu!

"Excusez-moi messieurs encore. Personne means: No one?" As she looked around at the team of thirteen suited and two in street clothes, only wearing suits the way she was taught to coach. "Etre professionelle! Toujours Chloe!" Her female mentor had embedded into her psyche. That credo had gotten her where she was to this day: being the first and only female Head Coach of a NCAA Divisioin I Men's Basketball Program.

"Encore: Again! Personne: No one? Personne can tell me the Ah-Bay-Cay of offense and we have went over this time and time again?" Silence! "Mon Dieu! Merde! Merde! Merde!" She said a little louder than usual. She never hollered, screamed or disrespected them; she would only speak professionally to them. They were young men. They were learning. Their team's record unbelievably so was 13-0. She was all the rage in the coaching and media circles. But for some reason today they were not doing as they had been coached. Standing around on the perimeter, playing catch with one another. "Merde!" She kept looking around and all of the team were just looking down.

"D'accord!" She said in earnest. The whole team like on cue looked up at her. "Je suis desole! D'accord?" All of the team nodded. "Parfaite." And the team smiled. "Maintenant il y a mes jeunes hommes!" She said with a smile. The team smiled back at her. They understood that sentence she had said it many of times during practice and during time-outs and had explained to them what the sentence meant the first time she had said it.

"Ecoutes! Le Ah-Bay-Cay of offense is: Always Be Cutting ou Coupe Toujours! Comprends?" All smiled and nodded. They were learning she thought to herself...

(plus a venir...)

The Times (Lucas Cage, 44 Years Old, Indianapolis, Indiana Native) June 06, 2020

I came out of the gas station on 10th and Shadeland the other day and a young Asian male, maybe twenty-five or thirty (I'm not too good with ages any longer) with a clean wife beater, clean athletic shorts and flip-flops and he asked me for a cigarette. I gave him three out of my new pack. In my whole 44 years of life as an American, I have never seen an Asian ask for anything in the streets in this You-S-of-A.

I went to fill up my tank yesterday evening and a thirty-ish white man asked me for fifty-cents, so he could have enough money to catch the bus, so he said. I gave him a single and he tried to give me fifty-cents back avowing, "I only need fifty cents." I said to him, "Man, be careful out here." He looked me in the eye and said, "Thank you My Brother." The same evening, I was going into my apartment complex, a woman came up to me and asked me for four dollars. I gave four dollars to her. She looked at me and said, "God bless you!" And I don't really believe or think that God is gonnah bless me at all, to tell you the truth.

I do not have this type of money to be giving out. Truly, I don't. I'm very low on funds always. But, what I am witnessing now...well...is something I've never seen nor experienced in my whole entire life. I lived in downtown Indianapolis for some six years total in the past and I did not see what I'm witnessing in this day...there are a shitload of people in need. And its only goin to get worse. And the bad part of this whole scenario is...I am, quite possibly going to be, one of them.

My God!