Tuesday, October 30, 2007


Since Bush can't fulfill his plan to bomb Iran, he's got the hots for Cuba. Thats what he said from a mouth in an empty head as wars he's led put our country in the red. Nearly four thousand GIs dead and uncountable thousands of Iraqis slain.

And what about the maimed of body and of mind? What kind of man would want to start another war, especially with two still going on?

Cuba, one of the last on the list on of Communist dictatorships, is ill equipped to fight a war, has no oil, no WMDs and is no threat to democracies. So why does that bonofasitch, that failed fanatic with no brains in his empty attic have an itch to topple Fidel who's gravely ill and soon will die?

So what's it all about? His brother, Raul, will carry on.after Fidel is gone. And he seems to be open to negotiations with the US and other nations. Isn't it time we might possibly agree with this "enemy" nation ninty miles off our shore? It's never too late to negotiate? Is Bush looking for a short war and a quick victory to make the world forget he screwed up royalty in Iraq and Afghanistan?

Dubya's worried about his place in history, Guaranteed it will be a minus C or maybe an F for being such a schmuck, In his speech he charged Cuba with all sorts of totalitarian crimes. If I had a dime for every crime our would-be dictator has committed, it's a fair bet the proceeds could pay off our Iraq debt.

The final word: the United States cannot afford another war. How many more must die, how many loved ones left to cry and ask why a fool so cruel and a maniacs to boot could be allowed to loot his native land of all we hold dear: our GIs who are no longer here, our hard earned taxes down the drain, our children denied and left behind, our Medicare and Bill of Rights stripped bare. And that denier dares accuse Cuba or any other nation of "trauma and terror?" Will Bush ever see the error of his ways? Is there any doubt why America wants Bush and the Republicans out?

Wednesday, October 24, 2007


Why is there a sky? So birds can have a place to fly and there can be an airline industry so planes could dash and smash and crash and eliminate a spate of we. Why a sea? So fish and we can swim and eat and meet and greet ships on trips from here to there and everywhere where nature dwells.

Who made room in the sea for snails and giant whales and grains of sand, bordered by land and a grand variety of trees where monkeys and Tarzan and an endless list of creatures coexist?

Why are there mountains high? So we can reach out and touch the sky. And the eye can see scenery of rocks and hills and all the thrills of far off greenery. Where adventurers take the dare and reach the peaks simply because they're there, Where some live, some die, most never try.

Why is there so much greenery, some to eat, some to delight the appetite of precious sight like stars and moon at night and sunshine bright to light the day and rain to bathe the birds and beasts who feast on the bounty of the land.

We have so many kinds of friends, adorned with feathers or with fur, or only skin to let heat and cold compete with lust and sin that let humanity begin to populate the place we call inner-space.

Who is responsible for this impossible world we share? If a Creator there be, who created He or She?


He made a list of all the rotten things he'd done. Then threw it in the gutter and watched it run into the nothingness of a waiting sewer, sure no man would see it ever more.

Said he: "I'm a whore who defied morality's, who robbed honesty and integrity of its virginity .This is my vainglorious claim, I'm a hit and run follow the sun, leaver of all deeds undone.

"I'm a psychopathic incomplete, an indiscrete dead beat cheat who plies his trade on any street. I'm a liar with desire to have but not to pay, a taker, a faker who hits and runs away."

This is all he said. Seconds later he was dead.

Friday, October 19, 2007


Before there was a Henry Ford or Model T or an oil industry folks got around quite handily staring at the ass of an an ass with a swishing tail pulling a bale of cotton or hay from here to there and everywhere.

I'm talking about horses, of course, and horsepower that powered the transportation of our nation. Those big shitter critters, caused lot sof litte, but never gave folks cancer and were the answer to a farmer's prayer.

The horse was there in all weather, hot or cold you could tether up and say "Giddy-yup!" and it would go till you said "Whoa!" There was no need for speed limits or one way streets. Head-on collisions? Dobbin made his own decisions. He'd gee aside, do nothing wrong, and go bob-bob-bobbin right along..

Then one day the Model T ushered in the start of a revolution of pollution and the birth of a brand new industry. Horses went to the glue factory. Oil and gasoline came on the scene and the auty-mo-biel was the big deal. Horseless carriages were in, horses were out and speed was what it was all about. Twelve miles an hour! That was power!

The horseless buggy kept chugging along. It got stronger, longer, sleek,
streamlined, designed with style in mind. Almost everyone has one or two
and they're not all black. Now there are buses and trucks and SUVs and
homes on wheels called RVs. They're driven to work, on trips, to weekend
bashes. Some wind up in fatal head-on crashes.

You know what cars can do so there's no point telling you. You know
they're no longer cheap. That gas to run them is steep. That there's no
dispute, they pollute. Still prices keep rising as enterprising gougers lie and
send prices jumping at the pump.

And that's where BS replaces horse manure as politicians and oil
companies find new excuses to heap abuses on hapless motorists. Come
off it! They could cut profits and still make a lot. But they don't. They'd
rather grab their unfair share and don't care and GB gives us BS. He's
willing to do more drilling instead of forcing industry to settle for a lower
price at the pump in these times of sacrifice.

Thursday, October 18, 2007


Sheep who shop in supermarts are suckers for a label.
They push their carts from shelf to shelf to overloaded table.
They stand in line like fatted calves waiting for the slaughter.
They squeeze each fresh tomato like a drowning man claws water.
They load their carts to the hilt with strange, exotic dishes.
As point-of-product parasites grant their fondest wishes.
They succumb to each display set up to seduce them.
Women fat buy this and that as fast as stores produce them.
A product placed eye-level high, say those who know their shoppers,
force once frugal housewives to spend their extra coppers.
If it's designed to tease, appease or please her,
It's not the price that steals her heart, it's how its shown that melts her.
Tricks that make shoppers weak, meek and compromising,
are yours to use and abuse in modern merchandising.
Don't make it cheap, don't make it fresh. Just make it appetizing.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007


I surmise what doctors precribe will cure me so I won't have to go unwillingly. I'll try this drug, I'll buy that dope, hope what the doc prescribed will do the trick and I'll no longer be sick .Or I'll die and never know the reason why.

If I go I hope some lucky guy gets my parts so he'll not have to part with life so soon and be able to party-on to a hundred three. In that way we'll share my longevity equally.

Used to be when a body died it was buried with everything inside. In the future If the dead avoided cremation when they returned via reincarnation they'd be pumping blood trough a monkey's veins with the help of a heart of an ape who escaped from a zoo, whose toes and nose and bones from erogenous zones could become the gourmet hit of B'wnnaland.

The body would include a part from this, a part from that---eyes from a cat, skin on the face from the place where a pig once sat, an esophagus from a guy named Gus, a funny bone from a laughing hyena named Lena, DNA from a bowl of alphabet soup made from a hen in a coop where roosters crow and geese go poop.

The goulash of glands would be close relations from pappas and mammals, camels that hump and owls in Whose Hoo, gnus who make news and crocodiles in style wearing alligator shoes.

In a frenetic dance the genetics of elephants and ants would romance in your pants. All this would happen in the advanced age of surgery just around the CORONER.

That's how it will be. You'll pick your toes, your teeth, your nose and the surgical pro with needle and thread will transplant it from the dead and the parts will live on after you are gone, Something to look forward to when you are no longer a part of you.

Thursday, October 11, 2007


Once upon a time before there was time to measure time there was a sky, a moon and sun and one by one, then two by two, then more by more until there were no more, a blinking twinkle-twinkle light up the blackened blue. Nobody knew where the heavenly bodies came from or wondered what in the world was this place in space called world.

Somewhere out there among stars planets were planted, but were burning, bubbilng, masses spewing smoke and steam, grime and slime and smelly gases. Out of this miserable mass emerged a body with scraggly beard. a nose red as glowing coals, eyes that opened and closed, a mouth that ate and chewed, smiled and frowned to express mood and two ears to hear and support reading glasses.

The creature with these features looked into the brand-new sky, at the sea that only He could see, at greenery and scenery and even the Boston beanery. He was impressed, confessed He created it all, stood tall and decided, to take the credit. He said it and by God, He the inventor who had invented it, meant it.

"I am God, I am He," He said with elation. "I am the Father of all creation. Come with me Face tribulation on the road to salvation." God waved His golden rod majestically. "I hereby create Adam, the first Man among men." With his mate named Eve, Adam fired with desire, proceded to sire the world's population in duplication, males and females with these and those, fingers and toes and body parts covered with skin and supported by bones, and then there were those exposed erogenous zones.

Thus began God's Master Plan of Man. And that's when all the troubles began.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007


Hear ye! Hear ye! One and all. Y'all come down and hear and see the DC Clown, the dumbest man in the whole damn town. The yutz of the year with the sneer ear to ear, the frown, the would be king with the tarnished crown that'll bring the White House down. The folks will come to hear his jokes, to gawk in shock as he talks and talks in his Texas drawl and all he says is the SHAME OLD SIT to voters who are sick of it,

He's Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dee, the two-headed weak freak, not of the week, not of the month or the year, but of all the time since he's been here. See him wave his magic wand and turn fiction to fact and try to deny every bald-faced lie he ever told since days of old when black gold was worth more than golden gold and it was sold by the dribble and the drop for twice the price of sodapop.

"I still insist," he says with pounding fist, "there's a WMD hiding behind every Bush and tree."

Saddam had a big, bad A-Bomb in Baghdad that could have blown the world to kingdom come (ho hum) as kingdoms come and kingdoms go and he should know even though he ain't no king, he's just a little squirmy, wormy, slimy thing. Bush ain't turnin' back until they pack his six pack, and fill his tank with high test gas, blessed be Allah and the Yankee dollah!"

PS: If you think what I writ's A SHIECE OF PIT, so be it. Soon the GOP dopes will be on the ropes. Let's hope it stays that way and everything's OK.

Monday, October 08, 2007


Dubya's a hopeless dope on dope, an idiotic narcotic, a chronic boozer, a three million times loser, a sadistic abuser, a horse's ass who ignored the military brass and took us to war like a whore jumps in bed, thinking with his ass instead of his head,

Says Dubya the Dope, "Forge ahead! We'll stay the course until the last GI is dead and our last dime has been spent." Then he'll meet defeat and fall on his face in total disgrace and resent the extent to which voters hate this bonofasitch. We'd call him an S.O.B. but he's worse than that. He's a lowdown "shiece of pit."

I don't want to scare but I must add, BEWARE! Dubya Dope is still there in the outhouse White House, spreading germs, dictating terms. Iraq, the enemy/ winning side, must abide before we'll let them tender their unconditional surrender to us, the pretender victorious, notorious destroyer of potential peace in the Middle East.

Again we're defeated by the Beast!


Back in the good old Cold War days both we and the Reds were fed the same old line: Build up the military or very soon we'd be headed toward World War Three, not conventionally but atomically. We spent and they did too, and we did what we thought we ought do to spare the cost of another Holocaust where all our wealth and health and untold lives would be lost.

We and they were scared so we both prepared for a war neither side dared wage and instead created a great rage and hate between two great nations whose minds were on long-range vacations. Neither side realized the enemy of We Was We,

The war of Rubles against Dollars ran its course, the U. S. prevailed, the Soviet Union failed and was forced into bankruptcy and an end to a once powerful dynasty. Why rehash this bit of history? Because what happened then is happening once again.

Military historians and those who know the whys of war are now agreed what 9/11 was for, not to kill the enemy, but to force them into bankruptcy and increase dependency on oil at any price. And this would provide the funds and guns and dynamite to smite the enemies of Allah. That, too, is what it was and what it still is all about.

When discussing the cost of war, a million is mere pocket change. A million bucks a bomb sounds strange, but that, in any event, is what we spent, to back Iraq against the wall. But it's now after the fall and the costs are more and continue to soar.

That's what we did to stop the Reds and many said we learned from their mistakes and so now there'd be no more wars. .But our knuckle-headed saps fell into Al Qaeda's trap. Now we're strapped and they are wrapped in dough, enough to let the war on go endlessly for all we know.

The Bush policy has led America to the brink and it's about to sink in debt and we ain't seen nothin' yet. How much worse can it get? We're stuck in a no luck war. easy to get in, no way out, and that''s what 9/11 was really all about.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007


The Middle East is the Beast that lives to feast on the blood and bones of those who don't agree and, thus, become their enemy. The Beast with a billion heads has no heart. It seeks power to tower over all who try to hold onto sanity in a world that's lost its humanity.

Their endless war was cast in the long forgotten past in a land they'll never understand where man fought to be free, not be ruled by any dynasty, The enemy of the Beast is Democracy.

Behind the intense violence that makes no sense is the greed that fuels the tools they need to kill our liberty, They are a mass of masochists who insist on feeding flames of hate we cannot eliminate, No matter how long we debate, try to communicate and negotiate, in the end their will will be our fate.