Mr. ArtAtrocity...False Profits vol.2

Well by now my wife is a staple of this blog.  She tried of me writing this blog and coming up with all this crap that leads nowhere except to the truth about most things.  All the people who read this will no doubt say, "I am full of it but they agree and learn something from it." Please stop typing that stupid blog!  This is the majority.  The subjects covered here are not their cup of tea.  They just want to go through life believing they know how most things work.  For the percentage of people actually looking for a real 'friend,' not just a Facebook friend, or a new way of understanding a concept, well you landed in the right place.  The ONE percent, I am talking to you.  Ok, I give you NINE percent.  Not because it's accurate but it looked better on the page in all CAPs.  My wife is not on board with conspiracy, or talking about anything that doesn't relate to her world.  I bet most people are about the same.  "Don't involve m

 The problem I face is a simple one of time versus my life.  I do not wish to endure work anymore unless it is pleasing to me in some way.  Either by money or ease of doing.  So I seek the unnatural laws of randomness to assist me in finding a key to unlock the numbers I seek to grant me freedom from work and instead pursue all things that I think of the instant I think of them. Now, when a good idea comes I cannot act on it because I am not currently working or because I am currently working.  I must find a place where I can work and act at the same time.  How can I find a place where I can act and feel assured it is what I can practice and fail at if indeed I was wrong. The freedom to take chances is what I seek, so I give myself to the want and worry of chance, the lotto.  What has become a obsession is now a religion and is born of my repeated and unending process to obtain the correct numbers to free me of this fake financial prison everyone had been set in. Befor

So let's talk the parties. ~Politics, that is.  When I want a Liberal in the White House, I should get that.  When I order up a conservative in the President's House, I should get that also.  We Americans need to stop treating our politics like a one-solution-fits-all approach.  We should always "order up" a liberal after 'a Bush' makes us broke over night.  We should be able to "order up" a conservative when times are good and the economy is growing. Instead, we get 'quilted or guilt-ed' into being a liberal or a conservative. There is a fellow by the name of Sir Francis Bacon. He is probably the one guy who ordered up the Scientific Method. Sometimes called the 'Baconian' Method. In the Bacon idea, there are four caves. Tribal, Personal, Semantic, and Dogmatic. TPSD. DogS Time to Pee. Yeah, I am using the hated anagram with odd vowels approach here. ( William Shakespeare = I am a weakish speller.) You can make your

What the hell?  Flip-Flops everywhere.  I cannot go anywhere in this nation without seeing people's toes.  What gives?  If you are at the Airport wearing these supposed shoes you should be out(fly)lawed.  The terrorist love them.  Flip-flops I mean.  They see Flip-Flops, they know this guy or gal, can't act in a timely manner.  You can't stop the 'casseroles' on the airplanes from taking it over, if you wear these little foot badges of 'loser-dumb' --The Flip-Flop. Now don't get me wrong, my wife wears flip-flops all the time and she looks damn sexy in them.  She is a sex machine in a tight fitting pair of demon denim jeans and flip-flops.  Something about tight blue jeans and then a sexy bare foot, get me going.  Like the character who plays Billy Bean's ex-wife on Moneyball.  A white pair of jeans and no shoes WOW!  Hubba-hubba! But getting back to the topic at hand.  I cannot understand how people can travel in new and different airpo

This woman.  Driving without clothes or care is hurtling toward sexual disaster in a white sports car.  Her red flowing hair waving in the wind.  As she insanely drives into the unknown.  She, the great attractor.  The grand eye catcher.  She will change all those who ponder or gaze future events.  Those that get a good enough glance, stare into oblivion's beautiful face.  The HER .  The SHE is.  The red and well read. These Psycho sexual properties of Biblical and secular voices.  These great words of future gazing attraction, induces a sense of pride to word-smiths and all her reader's.  To tell us, the actions of the great glorious female called Futura.   Futura , which is also a Fox cartoon program, is grand female form. That hopes to inspire women and men in the meaning of what is to come.  This information, is what cuts us off from those who seek her eagerly. Listening to her red whispers or SEE what SHE is lighting.  A minister, priest or president who walks

Whenever I look up at the Moon on a cloudless night.  I wonder what the hell is a vacant planet parked by us anyways?  Like a beautiful woman ready and waiting for nothing, no thing at all.  Yeah, I hear all the little discovery channel scientists out there telling me it's for our tides and seasons.  Well whatever.  Like anyone really cares.  It's just another vacant lot of --WHO? If you strike the double UU you get HO...Ho, Ho, Ho and a bottle of jack sh)t. What am I-- a cigerette smoking  'beepin' owl?? If you ever driven by a vacant lot and said to yourself. I wonder who owns that --WHO?  And see the spider webs and tall weeds growing, rocks left or thrown in odd patterns.  The fence which is not keeping anyone out is somehow only keep the flying trash in?  Beer cans and coke bottle remains are the festive ingredients of the lot's dirty memory of  past times-- and good times.  People walk by the vacant lot and get used to the bad contents of

When the world fell on August 19 everyone else except for me had SUPER-POWERS.   And they all went around terrorizing each other with these new found powers.  Turns out, I was telling them we all were HEROES before the WEB came.  I was always pointing to the broken dome over our heads.  They did not care about the broken sky and went flying around the planet acting like the guys we all grew up on, in the movies.  Super Heroes.  BTW, everyone claimed at first they were Superman.  They all made capes and masks or whatever Superman was supposed to look like.  I kept saying, "If the WEB people took us over we could not trust any information about our lives or the movies we watched or anything." They just laughed at me and said, "The one without powers is a cry baby. ~Just IMDB it!  And they all just left me alone.  I heard them off in the distance knocking old buildings over or whatever they could find to be a Super-Hero on.  They never were hungry and

August 19 2029 the world fell and what fell with it was all that was.  All that ever was.  We were all tricked but no one knows when.  But it happened and for some damn reason it fell.  On August 19.  People heard things like the sky was creaking or the world was telling us with some odd loud horn.  The "Chris-se" said it was the last trump.  But they forgot what they were talking about.  "The Chris-se," I like to call them, went around preaching with their new found powers.  Turns out, I was the only one that remembered the holy books Vedic, Koran, Mormon, and Bible.  No one really knew what they were saying just repeating what their parents taught them, or something like that.  Anyway, doesn't matter they all did not know the Bible and it's contents.  Just me, how strange.  See when the world fell, I don't mean poetically or metaphorically.  I mean really.  The world as we knew it was the world of today.  Whatever year you currently live and

Well in the domination of the sexes there is a little known fact that the husband or ( huz-band ) is a title given in more derision than in honor.  For no man would give himself this distinct and nameless honor if he knew what it really meant.  The womanly title of 'huzzy ' is given to 'hora' women who cannot for someone damn reason, (currency), stop having relations with the opposite sex.  This title was passed down from the male figures of history called husbands, in the much the same way the very title of husband was passed to the men.  In the old days of recent past the feudal system was not much more than a prettied up tribal custom.  And not some, New World Order grandiose establishment, the succession of matriarchal succession was in vogue from the cave-man days right through to the "organized" tribe days of the fertile crescent as well into the civilizations of stone and bronze age.  The mother had all the rights and the father was nothing more

Chapter Peace or Grease not both! Everyday I found peace in my life.  The trouble is, no one else in my life does agree, that I found it.  It's like Indiana Jones who doesn't wear the appropriate clothing, not wearing a fedora hat and whip, but tells everyone he found the Holy Grail.  "Yeah, yeah...says the crowd.  We all heard that one."  Peace is not found but actually claimed.  Like a lost item at the Airport.  You must prove that item that was lost is yours.  This is very funny to me.  Like there are hundreds of people out there looking for lost items.  If there were there would be no lost and found in the first place.  Peace can be had.  Now try convincing anyone in your 'real' life that is the case.   The rest  seem to looking for something called..."happiness" ~and not peace.  Now this is a mystery to me.  Happiness is a feeling.  And cannot be claimed.  It is a result of being born.  Do not believe me....ask any child.  Or better y

     Chapter Love and Dog Food I have a dog and his name was given to him without us being there.  So his name is Max . I call him Maximus after that crappy Gladiator movie.  Yes, I hate Gladiator.  It blows.  And it is not why I am writing this.   My dog who always tries to test my patience and my brains.  He always hungry and thirsty.  And before all those dog lovers start fake diagnosing my dog for doggy diabetes or other stupid ideas.  He is what we all do and that is...to eat and drink and 'take one.'  He sums up what we all do everyday.  Sh#t, Sleep, and Shove food down throats.  Or his throat.  He loves to crap on other peoples lawns and not dump on my lawn.  Yeah, he is good at sh#tting.  At his 'maximum' he craps two a day.  I thought you did not have to think about 'dumping' or have a talent at it.  But as you get older you wish you could 'take one' better every year.  Instead you 'dung drop' worse every year.  You