Thoughts on life and society can be pointless, but that's what books are for. I've never enjoyed reading. It's always been difficult for me to read. Sometimes, I imagine little demons pulling at my eye lids. The Devil is in the details. I like people, who can act. They're fun to watch. I guess I wish I could be an actor, but I just don't have that charm and I stutter. My life is meaningless. I just lope from one place to another. I think that's my strength. Most people need a career and family. .. Family is a nice idea, but I've never had a nice family. Is this becoming annoying? ... Let's start with Vertago! He's cool and a stud. He also is popping up a lot in my movie watching. The mind can make association: like is the guy on the radio talking to me? Or why am I seeing so many eye balls in my movie watching? Jeeeze! I just saw CASE 39. A really scary movie with an eye ball scene that's very icky. This guy has a hornet come up out of his eye's lid.. tear duck. Any who, it's scary. Well, when I was Veratgo on Private Games.com my picture was of my left eye. It was trippy. Just a note to the CASE 39 writers: Lilith is not evil. I'm talking about Adam's first wife, expelled from Eden, because she "Would not be his beast of burden." Lilith is the first feminist in Bible Lore, she is immortal. So you can't drown her. Nope, only God can stop her. Okay, this Vertago guy is still effecting me. Strangers will look at me and cover their right eye, cars will shut one headlight off. That's dangerous! I had an elderly woman pinch my butt an call me "Vertago." in the mall. There was a Vertago concert. There is a Vertago song by U2. I started writing about Vertago in the 90's on an Australian web site Private Games.com. That's when I was working at Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart was awful. I had an over night manager slap me in the face. I just wish people would stop dropping pennies around me. I mentioned that Abraham Lincoln is looking to the right, while all the other presidents are facing to the left, because he was assassinated. Now, I get penny's dropped around me. I wish I had mentioned the dollar bill and the star of David over the eagel's head. It has twelve stars in it for the twelve Apostles. Feel free to throw dollars at me. Reflections: I wasn't completely honest about what I said about the penny. I was quoting the old Civil war lore Lincoln was facing right because he freed the slaves and turned his back on the brotherhood. That's what I wrote on Private Games.com. I'm not in favor of slavery. |
ARG! Marcella stood in front of me. I needed to poop. She had invited me over to her dad's house. I was 9 she was twelve.. . I felt like I was going to poop my pants. But, she thought it was funny. So, I pooped on their basement floor. She told me to clean it up and gave me bath towels from the washing machine. There is a mean streak in all people. Love just makes it devious. With my pants off Marcella, started grabbing my privates. I just kept backing up until I was against the wall. This was a repeat of my sister's night visits. .. I was hard as iron; a hammer wouldn't bring my arousal down. We kissed like mad and rolled onto the floor. Marcella said, "That's why I gave you the laxative." She had a crazed toothy smile. I haven't dated in many years. I'd rather get a massage.+ It's just too cruel to love and play mind games. Ask yourself, "Do you love or are you afraid to be rejected?" I have dreams or maybe nightmares about falling in love and being castrated by a ripping bite from my beloved... I'm extremely nervous around young attractive women... I know their judging me in a glance and they want to be cruel. But, I love women. Oy. Imagine a man walking down the street some women shout cat calls at him.. He walks up to them and calls them pathetic. Then, he walks away. That is never going to happen to me... I get elderly women grabbing my butt in the mall. I think it was Woody Allen who said, "There are a lot of attractive women, who are not attracted to me." I dreamt of naked women running over a feild after me with my frothing cock swinging between my legs. The point of this dream is I was running from them.. I shiver to think how I could please a woman day and night in a committed relationship. Maybe, I could buy a really good vibrator? Don't hate me. I'm just a ranting waiter. + v V |
Alright. I know that old houses creek and are windy. But, this house was spooky. It didn't help to have a pendulum clock ticking down the hall. Gong! Gong! Gong! On either side on my bedroom were rafter closets. I had a door to one of them. The wind was strong under the roof. Maybe, that's why the door kept opening. Still, it had a skeleton key lock. But, they are known to rattle open. I couldn't keep that door shut. You know if you can't find a reasonable answer to a situation like this most people will say it was a ghost. "I'm going to bed. I have to go to school tomorrow .. Please don't open the door." I said to an empty closet and locked the door with my skeleton key. The wind always moaned up the rafters and the door rattled all night. I'd wake up some mornings to find it open. My dad told me he had found a dead baby in this closet, under the floor boards. Bong! Bong! Bong! "Well, I don't know why you keep opening the door?" I said as I slipped out of bed and the door slammed shut. This happened in the morning with brilliant shafts of light coming through my gable windows. Ghosts are suppose to haunt at night, right? Cause and effect, "Once you have eliminated the impossible; whatever is left no matter how improbable is the truth." My hero Sherlock Holmes would say. But, I was skeptical or stubborn. So, I conducted an experiment. I got a jelly jar from my mother's preserve closet and went down to Saint Peter's Church and scooped up some Holy Water. Then, I placed the jar full of blessed water in the closet. That night the door stayed shut. Coincidence? The jar was placed on shelving to the right of the closet door inside the closet. I never moved it. It seemed like a solution. But, it was not scientific. "Well, I hope this means your happy." I said into the closet and locked the door. =+= |
My mother's family immigrated from Lorraine in France. She was fascinated with Authorial Legend. She believed that the Grail Quest was about the bloodline of Jesus Christ. King Author divorced his first Queen Guinevere and sent his knights out to find the Grail: the daughter of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. Sir Persaville persevered and brought her to marry Author. This legend implies a union between Britain and the Throne of King David. Okay, so I asked my mom what does that have to do with us? She gave me a Mona Lisa smile, "The Messiah." I've been watching these Britains on CNN rioting. This is the source of world peace? Jerusalem is in chaos too. It looks hopeless. The Ten Nation Confederacy is falling apart. Those German Barbarians are there only hope. Oh, Jeeze. My mother was convinced this new Messiah would come in my lifetime with a sword, "Excalibur!" My sisters were not so impressed. They explored sexual magic. It was a house divided, between Irish Catholicism, my mother's Kabbalahism and sexual magic. I would spend summer nights on the roof star gazing. It was peaceful. I think my obsession with nylons started with my sisters dressing me up. I didn't like the make up or dress, but the nylons were sensual. Wow-we-wow-wow! Mom said that "this" although this was fun, it would not be acceptable to strangers. I should dress like a man, "There is a danger from society." Well, this all started with my mom's magic, she told me to question everything. That included dressing up in my tiny noggin. I think King Author would have beheaded me. But, it doesn't always have to be acceptable to be fun. :) |
I'll probably catch hell for this, but it bored me to tears. I like Jesus. I think he was trying to be a social activist. And like all good peaceful leaders he was martyred. I don't know if he rose from the dead and ascended into heaven on a cloud. I wasn't there. However, that would contradict the laws of nature. Consider, it is written that after Mohamed died in the city of Medina, he rode a horse into Heaven. Is this any less true than Jesus' resurrection? What would Glen Beck say? Sitting in Saint Patrick's Cathedral, sweltering or freezing, truly made me nauseous. I used my imagination to pass the time as the Priest mumbled latin with his back to us. I Pictured the girls naked and dancing about the alter. I wondered what was playing at the cinema. Could the Priest be making incantations? What would he do if Jesus showed up? "Oh? Hello Jesus. I was just in the middle of your Mass. Could you take a seat?" I didn't believe Jesus looked like a blond swede. He was probably very dark with curly hair. Have you ever wondered why Jesus is Republican? Somewhere in the checkered history of Christianity Jesus became a symbol for the ruling class. Jesus was used to justify slavery and the "Just War." How much do all the wars cost; Rush Limbaugh? I'm talking about cash, not the brave who die for the powers that be. There are five permanent bases in Iraq. That's expensive. According to the Pope the war on Islamic terrorist will not be won with bombs. It is "Spiritual Combat." I don't know how to reason with fanatics, but if they attack me I'll kill them; Abraham told me to. I would sit in that Cathedral and stare up at Angels painted on the ceiling. Do Angels walk amongst us? What if they're Lizard Men in disguise? I'd study the congregation and flipped through my Missal. Saint Peter drove a serpent man off. He hit the demon over the head with his staff. That'd do it. This is the problem facing all religions: alternative entertainment. How to keep the flock in the pews. Poor Fr. Butler he looked like a Muppet and sounded like a fog horn: "Blah..blah..blah." Yeah, I get it be nice and don't have sex outside of marriage... zzzzzz. Mom would chuckle and nudge me as my eyes started to shut. She thought the whole thing was funny. =+= |
I like to call her Mia. Miriam is the Hebrew. It means, "The star of the sea." In wiccan it is the Goddess of Earth. Being raised Roman Catholic, I had many Saints and Apostles to pray to. I liked Mary. The mother of Jesus. I'm a mommas' boy. Dad preferred Saint Patrick. Saint Patrick's Day was a time to run out the tricolor flag of Ireland in celebration of the rising of the Irish Republic. We would all have Jameson. And play Irish rebel songs. It wasn't until I entered College that I figured out Saint Patrick was British. The Irish had been pagan, before his visit to the emerald isle. Dad knew this, but said it was St. Patrick's Roman education that brought him to Christianity. The strange implication was that being from England was bad, but being captured and enslaved by the Romans was an improvement. Dad was an English teacher. He taught English literature. How could he dislike the English? Well, he loved the poets and novels, but he thought English history was genocidal toward the Irish. He was second generation and lived at the time of the treaty with Britain, which establish Southern Ireland a free state and the proclamation of The Republic of Ireland in 1949. So, Patrick was Italian. Mom, had statues of The Virgin Mary. The secret was she called them Manon. The goddess of Earth. Gia is the Greek name. This was a very private competition, between my parents. The Virgin Mary is often depicted standing on the globe of the world just like Manon or Gia. Now, I started to become skeptical of religion around the time dad told me Santa was dead. Saint Nicholas was a Russian Saint, who lived around 300AD. He was known for his philanthropy and died 352. I just sat down and cried. I was 9. His bones are in relics in Rome.+ Saint Nicholas is depicted wearing his red winter coat and holding his Bishop's staff. Yes, he had a white beard. The Coca-Cola company beefed him up. Saint Nicholas was stalky. He liked to chop his own wood; a typical Russian activity of those times. Any who, that's when I started to question the supernatural. My momma told me that it was good to be skeptical and I should never practice Witch Craft unless I believed in Manon, The Virgin Mary. That gave me a complex. "She loves you." mom said. Dad believed in "Spiritual Combat." The battle between God and the Devil within you. That made me paranoid. What if the Devil is telling me what to do? Is God going to strike me dead? Do I have any control over my thoughts? Puberty was hell. I wanted to enjoy sex, but it was forbidden by the Vatican outside of marriage. Jeeze! I started talking to my mom's Hummel of the Virgin Mary. It was a slender white statue. I'd hold it close to my concave chest. My sister Maura tried to break it, but mom got a hold of it. Maura was high on some drug. It was the 70's. |
It's real easy to be a hermit in Maine. The tricky part is getting the bills paid. What I like about being a solitary man is I don't need to worry about the companion. I just make sure the cats are fed and the litterbox is changed. Now, the pathology of my antisocial behavior is text book arrested motherhood. As the youngest sibbling, it fell on my shoulders to care for mom. She had lymphnoid cancer. I was struggling to find a carreer and mom needed help walking and changing her cloths: Depends' diapers. Dad was in the early stages of alcoholic alzheimers. He thought I was still a boy. It was very difficult to hold onto a simple job and be there for mom. Dad didn't understand this. I sudgested he put mom in a nursing home, but he was affraid he loose the house. The idea of dating and getting married was impossible. How could I afford a relationship and live a normal life? I prefered to use my imagination and had a spiritual link with my dead sister. The Ghost and Miss Muire was an inspiration to me: a sic-com about a widow, who lives in a house haunted by a sea captain. Our house had a double decker porch, where I could have my meditations. |
After landing in Tel Avid, I checked into the King David Hotel. I was stunned to see Brian Gumbel on my Telli. He was wearing a baker's apron and standing in the street in front of Rockefeller Center. One of the Twin Trade Center' Towers was burning behind him. As he tried to explain what was happening a second plan struck the second tower. It looked like an attack. I thought is this the Apocalypse? I had no doubt my country would retaliate with nuclear weapons just like Pearl harbor. This could be world war three. I didn't feel like eating in the restaurant. I called room service. They sent up a menu with a porter. I looked at the prices and ordered a sandwich . Then, I asked the porter what the names on the back of the menu were about. He said those were the prostitutes. I checked the prices and ordered one. The sandwich was delivered by the prostitute, along with the chablis. I felt guilty and excited to see her dress fall off. "My name is Libra." she said. She was about five feet, slender with a rock hard belly. I asked her if she was Jewish. She said she was Russian and that she had been kidnapped. She wanted to be a model, but she was forced into prostitution. This made my ears red. My ears turn red when I'm very upset. I apologized .. But, she insisted that she be my prostitute. At this point I just seized the moment and had sex. Despite her patete figure; she was incredibly strong. She growled at me and wrapped her thighs around my hips. It felt like wrestling. Maybe, American girls are more(hmm) submissive? Libra pinned me down. She slapped me and wanted to be slapped. Then, we slept. Of course when I woke she was gone. The fee was included in my dinner bill. I had to rise early to start my tour of Bethlehem. Yes, I felt sinful, also very alive. I was playing Johny Cash on my headset during the drive through the West Bank: When The Man Comes Around. "And God said to Abe, 'I want you to do some killin.' And Abe said to God, 'Are you crazy?' And God said to Abe, 'Then you better start runnin.' And Abe said, 'Where do you want to do this killin?' And God said, 'Out on Route 61.'" |
Okay, I like to fantasize about celebrities. Who doesn't? The way I see it, if your a celebrity you need attention .. and that includes having dorks jerk off on you. I hope Angelina Jolie and Sandra Bullock can live with that. They have enough money to bury me. I really, like Jen Anderson, but I don't want to have sex with her. She's just too, you know, not porno. Angelina Jolie is a sexual assassin. Sandra is that girl that liked to hang with the boys and give great blow jobs. She's a tom boy. I really could date her, if she wasn't a multimillionaire and superstar. I like Julia Roberts in straps, something about her makes me want to tie her up and spank her. It's probably her big mouth. I've had a few celebrity encounters. I met Charlton Heston at Filene's basement. I said, "Your Charlton Heston." He gave a toothy smile and said, "Yes." Then, he walked away. I expected there to be a swarm of people around him, but nobody else noticed him. I met John Travolta .. He said, "I'm John Travolta." I said, "It's great to meet you." and I was asked to leave a street filming ... It was in Boston. I stumbled into it. Non of these encounters were fulfilling. Its just that I didn't know the person. Maybe that's important. You watch a movie about a hero or someone compelling and that's a fantasy. You don't want to know the actor. They can be depressing. I had this idea about running a phone number after the movie to tell the director, writer and performers what you thought about it. It would be fun have to have a little input. I guess that's a Face Book thing. I'm looking at the cover of my Entertainment Magazine and doesn't Anne Hathaway look like the Virgin Mary? Spooky. Nope, can't fantasize about that. She's too...Saintly? Or something. I'm more of a Rhoda/Uhura guy. Sandra and Muzzy skinny dipping. Yeah! Why can't they just except nudity as natural. Why is nudity an R rating and violence a PG? Puritanical Pilgrims in big buckles. Nobody liked the Pilgrims! That's why they had to land on Plymouth Rock. James Town didn't want them. England and France kicked them out, because of their obsession with big buckles. Concept: A superhero in a black cat suite with a big buckle tightened around her belly. She has straps up her thighs and a whip. Pilgrim Punisher! R rating, Angelia Jolie first choice, Sandra second, Hathaway third. Roll-em! |
I can't believe I going to be 48. What a life. So many times I've wander astray in this wicked world; but I cannot change...or make change? "With Warren anything is possible." Josh said after I complained about Warren slapping me in the face. Why did he slap me? Well, I did not submit to his bullying. "I'm not intimated by you." I said and he slapped me. There wasn't much I could do about it except complain to my assistant manager. Warren was the overnight manager. I was working at Wal-Mart. I like to shop at Wal-Mart the prices are low. Now, I look at the associates there and wonder, "Have they been slapped?" Failure is a bitter apple. My advice, "Don't work at a job if your slapped in the face by the boss." It's all down hill. The automotive manager, Linda, would tremble when Warren threatened her. She was not a good department manager and forgot to put out her sale flags. I saw Warren slap her .. when she started screeching she couldn't finish all the layouts. Her eyes popped out as she snorted, "I'll. .. finish it!" Linda was about my age and was married with kids. She was also an alcoholic and chain smoker. "Could you put my sale signs up?" she whispered to me with a fist full of flag signs. I was a cashier/lot attendant. But, I felt sorry for her. Her eyes were always blood shot and she smelled like an exhaust pipe. I put some of the signs on the wrong items. Warren was furious. I said that, "We all make mistakes." But, it was his job to get the freight out onto the shelves and his over night crew was jammed up over my mislabling.. He had to get all the freight out quickly before the sale started. I got slapped. Linda had gone home. She called out sick the next day. The pet department manager had phoned her about my mislabling. The following day Linda looked pale and walked stiff backed. She thanked me for helping her, but her eyes were full of fear. That evening she tried to open her veins in her wrists with a utility knife. There was blood on the car jack display. Linda was fired. I asked to speak to Tim Bernard the district manager. Tim was unavailable. Wal-Mart has an open door policy: any associate can speak to the district manager. But, I never could reach Tim for a comment on Linda. She was fired for gross misconduct: suicide attempt. That's the last I ever saw of her. Wal-Mart is always hiring, because they have a policy of terminating employees every four years. It keeps the prices low. That's why I like to shop there. 2V231 |
What is your five year plan? I've been asked this question over forty years. I don't know. My Tarot deck tells me that I am in constant motion. It also mentions a romantic interest. I like to listen to talk radio. They remind me of the street performers. I could sit and listen to Brother Blue all day in Harvard Square. He's a poet. This was early street rap. He had a poem about "The people, by the people and forgotten." It was an observation on quick gratification. That's my global view. Everything popular is bullshit. I can't say I know the answer/solution .. I'm skeptical. "When round the Lombard cities The iron flood shall flow, A swifter flood than Po, Frothing white with many plume, Dark blue with many a spear, Then by that sign ye may divine That Charlemagne is near." (Lord Macaulay 1856) In a crisis folks tend to look for a Saviour/king. Back in the day, I'd watch a lot of television. Now, I'm just too tired. One of my favorites was LOST IN SPACE. It was a frontier story about a family exploring other planets. I was obsessed with Penny and whether she'd find a boy friend. She had a little brother Wil .. and I identified with him. He was about my age at that time. Of course, there were two adult couples the parents and an older sister, who was romantically involved with the pilot. But, they didn't interest me. I imagined Penny and Wil, hooking up. This was my global view of relationships at that time... My mom liked the show too. She had no idea what I was fantacising. She liked the actress, who played the mom: June Lockhart. The show of course was silly. The odds of finding another habitable planet are slim and far between. But, it made me wonder about marriage and parenting. How would Penny and Wil assimilate? They were in a very isolated situation. . If interstellar travel is realized. Long term confinement must be taken into consideration. Anywho, I'd got into that TV series as well as Star Trek. God, Uhura was so hot... There I go again after the brown sugar. My dad said that was my, "Negro side." Dad liked Star Trek. He thought it was, "Liberals in space." He'd laughed when the shooting started, "Well, so much for interstellar peace." Dad showed me how to fight. He'd give me a spin with my right arm and flip me onto my back onto the couch. This happened occasionally, during a fight scene on Star Trek. "Get up. I'll show you that move!" he'd shout. It was fun.. I broke one of dad's ribs. He was lying on the couch, watching Star Trek and I ran up from behind and jumped on his chest. .. Well, mom drove him to the hospital.+ We had been watching, "Space Seed" with Ricardo Montalban. I guess that's the most any television series has impacted me. Time for a nap. |