A saboteur in American clothes
Pitching a traitors dream grandiose
Codes in mercenary’s clothes
Blackwater budgeted hurricanes foes
ACLU cries out for action
American Freedom!!!
A coming attraction???
The Military Commissions Act
Here is a fact
McCain was a yea
Obama a nay
Good ‘Old Ron Paul wasn’t dropping the ball
Whose party saw it written on the wall?
Was it a Bi-partisan plot after all?
Espionage cannot be brought
When our senate the constitution they drop
Triple Canopy profits top
When housing, energy, healthcare and food flop
Ruffian Rules instead of schools
Packing up profits while still in office
A child left behind treated unkind
While big business takes lease
Being bailed out….. and released
While disturbing our peace
Our pockets they fleece
BUSH will flee with our freedom
With fleece for his kingdom
Doubt it?
Just read about it
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
The Princess of the Pumpkin Chassis Land
There was a very mean old witch who called herself Angel. Everyone else called her Horrible Helga behind her back. She lived in Overland Park and was very snobby. She owned a little company and took advantage of all the hard workers there. She had an employee named Janni that ran everything for her. Janni was very nice to her even though Angel treated her like a dog with a bad case of doggie breath.
The first thing Angel said every morning was "ugh."
Janni said "Good morning Angel, how are you today?"
Angel answered "Ugh." Then Angel would go into her big office, which was really a conference room and talk on her phone. She would laugh really loud and in a deep throaty voice she would tell raunchy jokes and cuss all day to the customers with low class. Janni would take all the legitimate calls for orders and be sure all who did business with them were happy. The orders were for the employees to drive pumpkin carriages all over the world for the Fairy God Mothers to use for the Princesses of the world. The drivers of the carriages were paid very poorly. If that wasn't bad enough, they had to pay for everything that ever went wrong even if it wasn't their fault. Even worse, Angel fined them for their misfortunes. She would say, "Drivers are a dime a dozen. If they get mad just run an ad." This really upset Janni. She realized that the drivers truly were human beings. This was something that she could never convey to Angel, because Angel had no heart.
Sometimes the drivers would say "Does she have ice water pumping through her veins?"
Janni would answer "No, it only seems that way. I am sure she could not have anything pumping through her veins without a heart. Now here is a penny. Can you work all next month? Angel said she would spiff it three times this amount."
The drivers would usually say something like, "Bite me, no way!!!" Then Janni would run an ad because the drivers were so mad. Then, all over again, she would have to lie to the drivers she hired or face being fired by the Horrible Helga (that called herself Angel).
The children that lived on her street had to be convinced at Sunday School that Angel's were good and not heartless, greedy, mean, snobby, old witches. There were some that never believed the good Reverend and subsequently lived a very paranoid existence, especially around the Holidays when Angel's would haunt them like ghosts in the graveyard on Halloween night.
One day Janni came to work and saw, to her horror, Angel sitting in Janni's office burning all the pictures of Janni's family. "I thought these pictures were so ugly that I decided to burn them". Angel threw her head back and laughed in that vulgar deep laugh, much like a sailor on a three day drinking binge. At that moment Janni went postal on her ass. She ripped the hunting rifle and two pistols from the large conspicuous bag she was carrying and popped many a cap in the mean old witches' ass. Then realizing what she had done she dropped to her knees and begged for forgiveness. Then she was overwhelmed by the brilliant light. She looked up and saw the most beautiful Angel she had ever imagined.
"Quiet child, you have done nothing wrong. This was a horrible waste of flesh."
Janni began to feel calm, then she began to smile and then she burst out into a full belly laugh. Just then she looked up and realized it was Ernie the Bum that lived in the trash bin in the ally. He was wearing an aluminum pie pan on his head. She couldn't help but feel foolish, but still she laughed thinking to herself 'This is the Angel for this Angel. I am sure she would feel right at home with Ernie the Bum, if she hadn't had her ass blasted full of the caps Janni had so carefully packed that morning just in case Angel needed an attitude adjustment. Did that make it premeditated murder? NO WAY! She often had fire guns into the air to get Angel to stoop hanging from the chandelier and singing "I'm a Bitch, I'm a Bitch, oh that's a fact. Get out of my way or I'll hit you with a bat." This happened on a weekly basis. Then there were the times she went to important business functions and acted like a Hooker. At those times when fire arms were not appropriate, Janni would have to discretely zap her with a miniature stun gun. This was usually effective. Once in awhile Angel was so bad that Janni had to restrain her in a straight jacket so that she would not get out at night and attack unsuspecting men. Occasionally Angel would get away from Janni and do disgraceful things to the poor men she came across on her frenzied quest for man meat. It would take Janni months of damage control to earn back customers that heard the company was run by a mean old heartless witch with no control of her libido whatsoever. This was what had led Janni to the point of postal vindication. She had not planned to kill Angel, only to control her as best she could with the sound of gunfire. This was the only way it seemed that she could control her and ironically it was Janni, who in the end, lost total control.
Now what was she to do? Should she run? Should she tell the police the truth? Who would believe her? Before she could decide the decision was made for her. The police came into the building. There was only one thing to do now, tell the truth.
She told her story to the police and they just nodded and took down the story in their notebooks. As she finished she said "Well are you going to take me to jail now?"
The two Officers looked at her and smiled "Of course not. This is time to celebrate!"
They both began to dance around singing "The Witch is dead, the wicked witch is dead......" They sand and sang and danced faster and faster. They spun out of control flying in opposite directions. One of them crashed into a large urn in the corner of the room and broke it. Out spilled official looking documents. As they read they discovered that Janni was truly the Princess of the Pumpkin Chassis Land. Angel had robbed the palace when Janni was young and kidnapped her to control the shipment of all the pumpkin chassis.
"Hail Princess Janni, Ruler of the Pumpkin Chassis Land. We all adore you!!!" The crowds shouted the next day when it was announced that Horrible Helga was dead and Janni was their rightful ruler.
This was the beginning of a new era. Janni proclaimed that from now on the pumpkin chassis would be shipped by the drivers formally employed by Angel, (otherwise known as Horrible Helga). From then on they were paid good wages, allowed to see their families more often and never fined for their misfortunes again. Everyone lived happily until the next horrific, cold hearted, witch decided to take on the all powerful Princess Janni. This time she would take care of the menace before any ads could be place.
The first thing Angel said every morning was "ugh."
Janni said "Good morning Angel, how are you today?"
Angel answered "Ugh." Then Angel would go into her big office, which was really a conference room and talk on her phone. She would laugh really loud and in a deep throaty voice she would tell raunchy jokes and cuss all day to the customers with low class. Janni would take all the legitimate calls for orders and be sure all who did business with them were happy. The orders were for the employees to drive pumpkin carriages all over the world for the Fairy God Mothers to use for the Princesses of the world. The drivers of the carriages were paid very poorly. If that wasn't bad enough, they had to pay for everything that ever went wrong even if it wasn't their fault. Even worse, Angel fined them for their misfortunes. She would say, "Drivers are a dime a dozen. If they get mad just run an ad." This really upset Janni. She realized that the drivers truly were human beings. This was something that she could never convey to Angel, because Angel had no heart.
Sometimes the drivers would say "Does she have ice water pumping through her veins?"
Janni would answer "No, it only seems that way. I am sure she could not have anything pumping through her veins without a heart. Now here is a penny. Can you work all next month? Angel said she would spiff it three times this amount."
The drivers would usually say something like, "Bite me, no way!!!" Then Janni would run an ad because the drivers were so mad. Then, all over again, she would have to lie to the drivers she hired or face being fired by the Horrible Helga (that called herself Angel).
The children that lived on her street had to be convinced at Sunday School that Angel's were good and not heartless, greedy, mean, snobby, old witches. There were some that never believed the good Reverend and subsequently lived a very paranoid existence, especially around the Holidays when Angel's would haunt them like ghosts in the graveyard on Halloween night.
One day Janni came to work and saw, to her horror, Angel sitting in Janni's office burning all the pictures of Janni's family. "I thought these pictures were so ugly that I decided to burn them". Angel threw her head back and laughed in that vulgar deep laugh, much like a sailor on a three day drinking binge. At that moment Janni went postal on her ass. She ripped the hunting rifle and two pistols from the large conspicuous bag she was carrying and popped many a cap in the mean old witches' ass. Then realizing what she had done she dropped to her knees and begged for forgiveness. Then she was overwhelmed by the brilliant light. She looked up and saw the most beautiful Angel she had ever imagined.
"Quiet child, you have done nothing wrong. This was a horrible waste of flesh."
Janni began to feel calm, then she began to smile and then she burst out into a full belly laugh. Just then she looked up and realized it was Ernie the Bum that lived in the trash bin in the ally. He was wearing an aluminum pie pan on his head. She couldn't help but feel foolish, but still she laughed thinking to herself 'This is the Angel for this Angel. I am sure she would feel right at home with Ernie the Bum, if she hadn't had her ass blasted full of the caps Janni had so carefully packed that morning just in case Angel needed an attitude adjustment. Did that make it premeditated murder? NO WAY! She often had fire guns into the air to get Angel to stoop hanging from the chandelier and singing "I'm a Bitch, I'm a Bitch, oh that's a fact. Get out of my way or I'll hit you with a bat." This happened on a weekly basis. Then there were the times she went to important business functions and acted like a Hooker. At those times when fire arms were not appropriate, Janni would have to discretely zap her with a miniature stun gun. This was usually effective. Once in awhile Angel was so bad that Janni had to restrain her in a straight jacket so that she would not get out at night and attack unsuspecting men. Occasionally Angel would get away from Janni and do disgraceful things to the poor men she came across on her frenzied quest for man meat. It would take Janni months of damage control to earn back customers that heard the company was run by a mean old heartless witch with no control of her libido whatsoever. This was what had led Janni to the point of postal vindication. She had not planned to kill Angel, only to control her as best she could with the sound of gunfire. This was the only way it seemed that she could control her and ironically it was Janni, who in the end, lost total control.
Now what was she to do? Should she run? Should she tell the police the truth? Who would believe her? Before she could decide the decision was made for her. The police came into the building. There was only one thing to do now, tell the truth.
She told her story to the police and they just nodded and took down the story in their notebooks. As she finished she said "Well are you going to take me to jail now?"
The two Officers looked at her and smiled "Of course not. This is time to celebrate!"
They both began to dance around singing "The Witch is dead, the wicked witch is dead......" They sand and sang and danced faster and faster. They spun out of control flying in opposite directions. One of them crashed into a large urn in the corner of the room and broke it. Out spilled official looking documents. As they read they discovered that Janni was truly the Princess of the Pumpkin Chassis Land. Angel had robbed the palace when Janni was young and kidnapped her to control the shipment of all the pumpkin chassis.
"Hail Princess Janni, Ruler of the Pumpkin Chassis Land. We all adore you!!!" The crowds shouted the next day when it was announced that Horrible Helga was dead and Janni was their rightful ruler.
This was the beginning of a new era. Janni proclaimed that from now on the pumpkin chassis would be shipped by the drivers formally employed by Angel, (otherwise known as Horrible Helga). From then on they were paid good wages, allowed to see their families more often and never fined for their misfortunes again. Everyone lived happily until the next horrific, cold hearted, witch decided to take on the all powerful Princess Janni. This time she would take care of the menace before any ads could be place.
Once Upon A Time
Once Upon A Time.
There was a little girl that wrote in her journal every day. She was 9 years old when she started writing in her Big Chief Tablet with her pencil. She wrote about her friends, school, recess and her family.
She got a spiral notebook next. She escaped into her dream world, writing about everything her young heart could imagine. Sometimes she was the hero, other times the villain. She was an inventor, star athlete, dancer, comedian, black belt in judo, entrepreneur or a witch, just like "Bewitched".
Later she got a pen and a bigger notebook. She evolved as time went by and so did her writing implements. Her journals were purchased at the bookstore and she shopped for unique pens that felt elegant in her hand. She would glue articles she had clipped out of the newspaper or pictures from a magazine into her journal. She would write in the empty margins around her clippings. There were observations, humor and sometimes questions to research later.
As she grew so did her writing. She wrote about her marriage to her wonderful husband, the birth of their first child and their second child. She was amazed at the differences between her little boy and her little girl. They were both so beautiful and amazing. She saw how unique each of them was and marveled at how she could have produced such remarkable people. There were pages filled with joy and love and still other pages filled with heart ache and overwhelming pain. She used it to sort out the lessons she learned from the good and the bad.
One day as she was driving a big rig into El Paso, TX (yes she was a truck driver for awhile) she wrote about what she observed. On the north side of the highway was a modern city and on the south side was the Rio Grand. Just across the shallow river was a shanty town packed with people. There was a stark difference between the side of the road on the left and the side to her right. She noticed a group of children chasing after a pup right at the edge of the water. From a distance she swore she could see their giggles rising and whirling above them overhead. If it hadn't been for the brilliant colors she may have missed the sunset that evening. She couldn't ignore the blazing red and orange sky. There, right above the delirious puppy chasers was a cloud formation in the shape of an arrow pointing up as if it were heaven bound. It wasn't the most beautiful sunset she had ever witnessed but it was the most profound. The arrow shaped cloud appeared to be purple. It was so striking against the blazing backdrop that it nearly took her attention off the road. She glanced in her side view mirror and saw the children still zigging and zagging along the river bank, completely oblivious to the wondrous image above them. It seemed like a sign to her. It seemed that all their hopes and struggles were being shot straight to heaven like a prayer shot right into the hands of God. She wondered who really had it easiest, those to the north or to the south? Who was blessed and who was cursed? Even though she had written it all down she didn't have to read it to remember. It wasn't a special day other than that. A few minutes of observation had left a lasting effect on her.
Once Upon A Time.
My husband pointed to several laundry baskets a few weeks ago and asked me, "What are you going to do with all that?"
"I put it on the shelves at the back of the closet" I answered.
He sighed and said "I know. Can't you do something else with it?"
"What's wrong with where I had it? What are you doing?"
"I put clothes on those shelves. If we are going to sell our house don't you think it will show better if we use the shelves in the bedroom closet for, I don't know..... clothes, shoes, maybe some belts or hats, instead of journals and notebooks?" He sounds exasperated.
Now I sighed. I knew he had a point. He actually looked like he thought I might part with all my journals for a moment. That was not an option.
"You have probably written over 10,000 pages since we were married. What do you have there 30 years of diaries? Why don't you pack it up? Maybe you could thin it out a bit."
"Okay" I looked at it feeling a bit defensive about my journals. What did he think he was doing calling my years of writing "diaries"? What is the real difference? I always felt that a diary was something that would belong to a teenage girl from the 50's, like some Gidget type. It is just a word, not an insult, I reminded myself.
After my husband left for work that afternoon I sat down and began to go through the first basket. I stacked the notebooks and journals by size rather than the chronological order I had them in on the shelves. As I was flipping through one of the huge notebooks some pages fell out. I noticed that the font was different. The pages were worn and tattered around the edges. I picked it up and began to read. I had forgotten the night I had written it, over 10 years ago. I had been fired from a job that day. I had written a story about the experience in the form of a fairy tale. It had come out in a rush. As I read it I laughed so hard I cried. When I reached the end my sides ached from all the laughing. It reminded me of how therapeutic writing is for me. I had written an adult fairy tale. It began: Once Upon A Time.......... Maybe I will post the story on my next blog. I am sure there aren't many people who have read a story about the "The Princess of the Pumpkin Carriage Chassis Land".
And they all lived happily ever after...............
There was a little girl that wrote in her journal every day. She was 9 years old when she started writing in her Big Chief Tablet with her pencil. She wrote about her friends, school, recess and her family.
She got a spiral notebook next. She escaped into her dream world, writing about everything her young heart could imagine. Sometimes she was the hero, other times the villain. She was an inventor, star athlete, dancer, comedian, black belt in judo, entrepreneur or a witch, just like "Bewitched".
Later she got a pen and a bigger notebook. She evolved as time went by and so did her writing implements. Her journals were purchased at the bookstore and she shopped for unique pens that felt elegant in her hand. She would glue articles she had clipped out of the newspaper or pictures from a magazine into her journal. She would write in the empty margins around her clippings. There were observations, humor and sometimes questions to research later.
As she grew so did her writing. She wrote about her marriage to her wonderful husband, the birth of their first child and their second child. She was amazed at the differences between her little boy and her little girl. They were both so beautiful and amazing. She saw how unique each of them was and marveled at how she could have produced such remarkable people. There were pages filled with joy and love and still other pages filled with heart ache and overwhelming pain. She used it to sort out the lessons she learned from the good and the bad.
One day as she was driving a big rig into El Paso, TX (yes she was a truck driver for awhile) she wrote about what she observed. On the north side of the highway was a modern city and on the south side was the Rio Grand. Just across the shallow river was a shanty town packed with people. There was a stark difference between the side of the road on the left and the side to her right. She noticed a group of children chasing after a pup right at the edge of the water. From a distance she swore she could see their giggles rising and whirling above them overhead. If it hadn't been for the brilliant colors she may have missed the sunset that evening. She couldn't ignore the blazing red and orange sky. There, right above the delirious puppy chasers was a cloud formation in the shape of an arrow pointing up as if it were heaven bound. It wasn't the most beautiful sunset she had ever witnessed but it was the most profound. The arrow shaped cloud appeared to be purple. It was so striking against the blazing backdrop that it nearly took her attention off the road. She glanced in her side view mirror and saw the children still zigging and zagging along the river bank, completely oblivious to the wondrous image above them. It seemed like a sign to her. It seemed that all their hopes and struggles were being shot straight to heaven like a prayer shot right into the hands of God. She wondered who really had it easiest, those to the north or to the south? Who was blessed and who was cursed? Even though she had written it all down she didn't have to read it to remember. It wasn't a special day other than that. A few minutes of observation had left a lasting effect on her.
Once Upon A Time.
My husband pointed to several laundry baskets a few weeks ago and asked me, "What are you going to do with all that?"
"I put it on the shelves at the back of the closet" I answered.
He sighed and said "I know. Can't you do something else with it?"
"What's wrong with where I had it? What are you doing?"
"I put clothes on those shelves. If we are going to sell our house don't you think it will show better if we use the shelves in the bedroom closet for, I don't know..... clothes, shoes, maybe some belts or hats, instead of journals and notebooks?" He sounds exasperated.
Now I sighed. I knew he had a point. He actually looked like he thought I might part with all my journals for a moment. That was not an option.
"You have probably written over 10,000 pages since we were married. What do you have there 30 years of diaries? Why don't you pack it up? Maybe you could thin it out a bit."
"Okay" I looked at it feeling a bit defensive about my journals. What did he think he was doing calling my years of writing "diaries"? What is the real difference? I always felt that a diary was something that would belong to a teenage girl from the 50's, like some Gidget type. It is just a word, not an insult, I reminded myself.
After my husband left for work that afternoon I sat down and began to go through the first basket. I stacked the notebooks and journals by size rather than the chronological order I had them in on the shelves. As I was flipping through one of the huge notebooks some pages fell out. I noticed that the font was different. The pages were worn and tattered around the edges. I picked it up and began to read. I had forgotten the night I had written it, over 10 years ago. I had been fired from a job that day. I had written a story about the experience in the form of a fairy tale. It had come out in a rush. As I read it I laughed so hard I cried. When I reached the end my sides ached from all the laughing. It reminded me of how therapeutic writing is for me. I had written an adult fairy tale. It began: Once Upon A Time.......... Maybe I will post the story on my next blog. I am sure there aren't many people who have read a story about the "The Princess of the Pumpkin Carriage Chassis Land".
And they all lived happily ever after...............
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