The nations been 'raped' and some of these GOPS do literally rape. They do kill and violate and do nasty murder plunder.

O, let the offspring hear the sick-rabble of the fops when they seek mental health counsel. It will be too late to sit on the conservatives 'shrink' couch and ask the neocon pop-spy bad-Shrink recommended by pappy-neocon-daddy?

NSA EAVESDROPPED: recorded In the psychiatrist office:

"Why you got Elvis photos all over the walls?"

"Why you got pink kook aid in the water jug?"

"Why you give me a roll of toilet-paper to blow my nose?"

"Why you got calenders of bikini gals on motorcycles?"

Why you got a pool hall and dart board in your office?"

"When we gonna stop listening to the Rush Limburger show?"

"Why did my daddy recommend you? What did you do for him?"

I reckon you get the silly gist. The goop's are real kooky.

On their deathbeds the Eclair anxiety abounds, and that is 'very' painful.

All the GOPS and the loyal-oil-greedy get irate for not consuming more chocolate eclairs on the life-long camping trail.

Life's a allegorical.

That's life. Oh, sad.

There's no looking bad.

Why speak a dead-lingo,

that a'dead do speak of?

`

The conqueror's language says,

There is only so much we can do.

The stuttering tongue of defeat,

Won't be the last voice calling?

`

To translate those written words,

when they quit making much sense,

have a pork schnitzel & two Eclairs.

that proves people are not poets?

`

I'm just saying something nonsense.

Then I'll not turn into a salt-block.

Love hates to say goodbye. Hate dies.

Whoever buries a lie dies while here.

P.S. None will grieve the fraudulent.

`

I just felt like a' saying something,

no rhyme or reason. a who buries who?

whoever buries Mulkasey will be buried,

O, and all this in a brief life allegory.

P.S. and I'm not trying to be a lame poet.

`

I'm just being me. Stop killing and jailing.

I'll get 'round to it.

I just remember the FNG who got off a Huey-chopper and guess what?

He ran into the back-unguarded Willey-bird propeller. His head got chopped off. The head in the grass wasn't exactly smiling. You know?

So- don't rush anybody.

Folks who weren't there?

Whoa, and did they miss it?

Maybe pro-war glops get a later opportunity.

I try to remain innocent and neutral.

Hostility and love deserve one another.

I do believe in embracing the mad-chaos.

Inside every doughnut is the empty space.

Then again ~ The NSA has a black bug hole.

Inside 'overt' Belgium beer is a big giggle.

I do believe in embracing the god 'ole hot-bagel.

I also believe ~ The nsa likes bad pumpernickel.

The mystery of human existence is not to be unravelled.

Where is that red neck G. Owen? Is he grasping his chest , and rounding a curve on the rural bend , and on his way to a banjo jamboree? Send out a G.O. search party. Where is 'ole G.O.?

He must be on a Sunday's lard day recess?

Owen is flat-backing, and eating soup rice?

Owen maybe he is blowing bubbles at the saloon?

On Sunday morning, G.O. may be with a Asian masseuse?

Maybe he has not washed his clothes for over a whole month?

The Asian women were very lovely. It's G.O.'s private business.

bahhummingbug (stinkbug?) Oh, heh.

The turtle tail drags in mud-muck.

When I go to K-mart, I pass free,

pea-green, turtle soup, samples.

I can buy a MapQuest?

Okay. I type in: ^^^.

For Directions ~ I turn at the dead tree stump. Turn right where the Wall-Mart use to be. I'll buy a box of hard colored Valentine candy at the drug store. The direction to YKW's Place on MapQuest is still vague to me/MapQuest. Confucius.

"Oh, three hundred million doors to knock on...O, I'll get on a train? All roads lead to YKW? Suppose I run into Ayatollah Khomenini or some nasty radical minister named, Pourmohammadi

who advocated being extra angry?"

I advocate "temporary marriages."

I don't understand nothing about extra-premarital kissing rules...Be married for a minute or two? okay. O, maybe a short 200-hundred years?

I get too confused @ figuring-out the 21st century rules.

I wonder? I may attend the Quiet Placid Creek Worship Center instead. (tease)

~

I pretend: If we are evolving six-figures sticks...@%^&*@?

I describe myself as the third '^' level stage of being...^!

So, if you are "out-there" too, okay.

here ^! okay. If not? Oh, there is No hope.

Glenn, save the USA? The birds chirp as if it's Spring. ^!

I'm shy.

I agree. Before Glenn comes back in a fury...

The Marine I earlier mentioned married a pleasant blond. I was the last person he spoke to before he was hoping on a greyhound bus to attend his wedding. He ask me, "Tomorrow night I'll be married, and what does one do on the honeymoon's first night?"

I said, "Don't ask me. How am I supposed to know? I'm not foolish enough to get married!" Maybe he should have asked Dirigo, Hume Ghost, Mitt, Huckabee, W.T., R.M.P., or another quiet and more mature Salon reader?"

The readers there seem knowledgeable about full-bodied people, mystery, subtlety, and delicacy. I'd pop-open a Leffe beer, and pour the sparking brew in a chalice and hope the ale's aroma creates some good foam beer-head ,and hope for 'perfect' luckiness to intervene. I'm too stooped and stupors get the best of me...Who knows anything in the neocon era for sure?

I'm just shocked and surprised I'm not 'kicked' off the U.T.'s Salon web-site by now...What amazes me is that anybody

tolerates another dang silly word from me/you etc.,

If my leg was not so sore, I'd sure be elsewhere.

Maybe someone can instruct how to pickpocket lawyers.