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Sunday, November 28, 2010


The same night Jimmy took his new bike out for a ride he dreamed about a girl called Marla and about a city. He woke up playing the dream over in his mind it was so real. Never in his 18 years has a dream shaken him to the core like this one. Nightly he has other dreams that seem to coincide with this magnificent dream. The dreams are always centered around this beautiful young girl named Marla and he feels they were very close.
                He talked to his parents hoping for some insight on why he keeps dreaming with regularity about a city and this girl he has never met. They reassure him that dreams are just a reflection of your subconscious and things that are happening in your everyday life. For example his mother believes that Marla simply represents that he is an adult. As an adult you are preoccupied with the opposite sex and that indeed is normal for an 18 year old. Jimmy talked to his Aunts, Uncles and friends about his dreams and they all pretty much tell him the same thing. Since he has become obsessed with the dream his mind keeps replaying a similar theme over and over.
                Jimmy tries to get the dream out of his mind but now is waking up with a splitting headache. He touches his hand to his head when he first wakes up and he swears he feels a bump. He goes to the mirror to see and the bump is gone. He dreams of a fence post that he is headed toward and wakes up with the thought of thank you dad. In his dreams he sees people walking over a hill, smiling faces, and copper, silver and gold structures and feels as though someone is trying to communicate with him.
                He starts keeping a dream journal to help link the many pieces of his dreams. He reads all the books in the library about dreams and interpretations. He does not seem to be getting the answers he searches for.
                Jimmy’s mother and father are worried about him. Ever since the first ride on his motorcycle he acts different. He can’t stand to be called Jimmy. He is an adult now and wishes to be addressed as Jim. They discuss these differences between themselves. It is as though he left on the ride as Jimmy the teenager and returned as Jim the man. What on earth happened on a leisurely cycle ride? They discuss with him their concerns and he admits it seems as though he grew up on his return ride. His mannerism, his thoughts, his unbelievable realistic dreams are somehow connected, so he leaves them his dream journal and pleads with them to help him understand.
                Jim finds a book at the library about dreams and mind projection. According to the book you can train your mind to do amazing things during dream state. The book teaches you how to control your mind so that when you are dreaming you can control your actual dream. Yeah right was Jim’s first response but since he was not achieving the answers he needed in the conventional manner he was willing to try other techniques. Per the author, some people have become good enough to communicate with others like themselves using his techniques. This made sense to him in a strange way because he felt as though someone was trying to communicate with him while he was dreaming. Before all of this dreaming quest began he would of laughed at such foolishness, but it had hit home with such an impact he was going to pursue all avenues.
                Night after night Jim faithfully practices the guidelines to achieving the intended state of dream consciousness. He does notice more clarity and the sense that he is aware of projecting his mind into the dream. Before falling asleep he programs his mind to where he wants his dreams to go each night and he is achieving amazing results. He writes in his dream diary his intended attempts and as he wakes up he compares the actual results. You must work at remembering the details of your dreams, as everybody dreams, yet not everyone can remember what they dream. His ultimate goal; once he feels secure that he is actually in his dreams rather than merely projecting his will, he can become a receptor to the one he believes is trying to communicate with him, Marla of his earlier dreams. He has worked so hard at controlling his dreams he has not dreamed of Marla but she is such a part of him. He definitely has not forgotten her. After all, that is why he is doing all these dreaming exercises so hopefully he can figure it out.
                 He has been conducting a test and has written all clues in his journal. He is going to recreate his first ride on the Kawasaki motorcycle with his new understanding of himself and his dreams. His mother and father tell him this is not normal behavior for an 18 year old teenager. They have been actively involved all the way in Jim’s endeavor of understanding. Even though they have reservations, the fact that he has not been secretive about it and asked for their help assures them of the importance it has to him.
                He recreates the ride and is at the Dairy Queen drinking a milkshake. The ride so far has been enjoyable. On his way back, there is one spot in the road, if you weren’t paying attention the road veers to the right and another road just jumps out at you. It would be easy to turn onto the side road so he does. The feeling of loss overtakes him and suddenly the road ends without warning. It is a dead end road and dejavu envelopes him. He gets off his motorcycle and walks around. His emotions are running amuck. The feeling of pleasure and loss permeates his mind at the same time. Suddenly he sees himself being thrown at a fence post and thanking his father for making him wear a helmet, he walks to a fence post and it shows signs of being hit recently. He takes off his helmet but it shows no visible scars. As he runs his hand over the top he feels several small dings, oh my god he did hit that post! Jim sits down and tries to gather himself. Something happened here he knows it in his heart. He rides back home and will start his dream here at this dead end road.
                It takes forever to get to sleep but once he does he finds himself being hurled into a fence post and then he wakes up within his dream to an unusual looking place with a gigantic headache and then falls back to sleep within the dream. He wakes up again and a young boy and two adults walk by smiling but he cannot understand them. Then a beautiful young girl walks by and he understands every word she is saying and he knows her name before she says it, Marla. At that powerful moment he snaps back to reality and is fully awake but he has succeeded in achieving the results that he was striving for.
                Night after night he projects himself to the exact point where he wakes up the night before. Has his mind becomes so strong that he can produce such a story or is he reliving what actually happened? The feeling of dejavu is so strong! He is convinced it actually happened. Wow!, wow!, wow, he laughs at those words. He can smell the city and feel Marla’s body behind him as they ride around a city of copper, silver and gold on his accident machine. “Accident machine,” he would never refer to his cycle like that! He senses Marla trying to communicate with him but her mouth is not moving. He wakes up at that instant in the real world with cold chills going through his body. He goes back to dreamland thinking of Marla, they are making love and he senses more than one. He sees faces, all smiling. A thought goes through him as clear as a bell. It is a city where all are one.  Suddenly he wakes up in the real world with the overwhelming sense of loss and extreme emptiness in his heart. He is in love with Marla the girl in his dreams. The next night the complete “reality dream” plays itself out. Only now Jim knows it was real and Marla is trying to communicate with him in his dream and he believes she already has by helping him relive the whole scenario in his dream to prove it was real.
                The next night he sees only Marla’s face as he drifts off to sleep,” He hears Jimmy… Jimmy is that you.”
He ask “Marla is that you.”
Marla replies “yes, yes, yes, wow! wow! wow!
                That was definitely a message breaking through from another reality and he has been there for real. He has finally succeeded and was saved by her and her people somehow he visited and fell in love with a human, that like himself, was saved by smiling faces that are all one. Where does he go from here? He can communicate through dreams and visit her. He has heard of long distant romances but inter-dimensional might just be something completely different. He can have sweet dreaming every night but can he feel her body next to his. His life as well as Marla’s has been altered forever and as he dreams, they will work together to dream this one out.

Sunday, November 21, 2010


Jimmy is taking his brand new motorcycle for a leisurely drive. He has participated in youth motor-cross races so he is no stranger to riding. He is extremely proud of this bike because he paid for it, working during high school and summers. His mother and father always told him if you want something bad enough you must work for it. That is exactly what he did and this is his accomplishment. He feels like an adult after graduation last week and now a new bike to break in. He is on top of the world.
                He tells his parents his route. He is taking the old scenic hi-way with a lot of curves to get the feel of the handling. There is a small town 30 miles away where he plans to stop and get a milkshake and turn back. He tells his parents he will not deviate from this route for any reason. They ask him out of concern to please do this. He asked, what could go wrong on a new motorcycle, wearing a helmet and a scenic state highway where you cannot go fast because of so many curves and traffic. Better safe than sorry; they agree.
                That is exactly what he does. It is a beautiful summer day, a young man 18 years old with his whole life ahead not a care in the world. It was a spectacular ride to the Dairy Queen. He gets his milkshake and sits near his prize, admiring the red Kawasaki. He takes his time drinking the milkshake. He is in no hurry and is gazing at the bike as if it were a beautiful girl.
                As he enjoys the ride back the road suddenly ends and he is thrown off the motorcycle. The last thing he remembers seeing is a fence post and thanking his dad for instilling in him the good sense of wearing a helmet, “thanks dad,” then lights out.
                Jimmy opens his eyes, he feels like someone hit him in the head with a hammer. The room is moving and he goes back to sleep. He awakens again and his head is propped up and he could see a living room. A young boy walks by and says something but Jimmy could not understand. A man and woman appear and it is the same with them; he can’t understand them. Then a girl his age smiles and speaks to him. ”You have a head injury please lie still and don’t attempt to get up. We have been taking good care of you.” Jimmy studies the room, perhaps it is the head injury but everything in the room seems out of balance. He asks, “May I please use the telephone to call my parents?”  They look at him and smile. He goes back to sleep.       
                He awakens to sunshine sitting on a porch; the young girl is there with him. Looking at the trees and gently rolling hills he spots no cars no telephone poles. There are children playing, people walking by smiling at him. Everyone is friendly but something is amiss. It seems more like a dream than reality. He is not afraid, finding the surroundings peaceful.
                He tries to rationalize his situation. Somehow he lost the hi-way and wound up on a dead end road. There he hit his head so his concussion would explain the situation he finds himself in, also the abnormal appearance of everything. He can’t understand anyone except for the girl his age. Her mouth does not move but he hears her inside his head. Oh no! It can’t be, they communicate with their mind; that is not possible at least not in his world. No one has asked his name or any questions and that is definitely not normal in his world. The young girl is sitting next to him and she knows everything that he is thinking.
“Do you understand what I am thinking?”
“Yes” she replies with her mouth not moving. He asks her name,
“Marla” she says; or her mind says.
“Wow! Wow! Wow!” he is thinking.
Marla says “I am unable to understand wow! wow! wow. Sorry but I too am confused, a lot.” 
Jimmy ask “I’m not in my world am I?”
“Correct” Marla answers. “You, Jimmy, as well as I, are in our Host’s world. They brought us here in order to save us.” She explains that like me, they brought her into their world. If not she would not have survived. “There was an accident when I was a toddler and they had to bring me through. They are compassionate people and have nurtured me so that now I am like them. I do not remember anything. All this was told to me. It was against their rules but they could not let us die. You see we are from the same world but I know nothing of that world. This is my home and these people have been my family.”
“I don’t understand any of this. You are telling me I am not dreaming and this is real.”
“Yes” Marla says, “I will leave you alone to think for a while, if you need me just think my name and I will return.”
                Really what was there to think about, they saved his life and how was he to get back? He thinks “Marla” and in a few minutes she joins him on the porch. Jimmy asks her if he will be able to return to his world.
“Of course as soon as you’re healthy enough. When the time is right for you to return they will alter your memory so you will not remember this place.”
They have your riding machine and have made repairs. Before you leave they wish to see you operate it; no one here will have anything to do with it. They refer to it as an accident machine.” We both have a laugh at that and look at each other in a playful manner.
“I won’t remember you?”
No, it is for our protection and yours” Marla explains.
“But I have so many questions; can I walk around and see some of this world?”
“Why if you won’t be able to remember anything” Marla ask.
Jimmy was in the most amazing unreal event of his life. He wanted to pursue it further, to find out and see more if only for a brief period? That is what being human is all about.
“I’ll see if that is acceptable and if so I will walk you around. Are all humans so curious” Marla asks.
“Yes” Jimmy replied.
                So in a few days Marla asks me “Are you ready for that walk?”
He was about to go where no man had gone before. The small barn is where they are keeping his motorcycle. He watched as people would disappear and reappear over this one hill, so that is where he wanted to go.
Marla tells him “Relax we’re in no hurry. Everyone here shows no such emotion so you must be at ease to enter the city. Where you have spent the last several days is an area built for me to remind me of my world. The leaders wish to remind me of my heritage. Heritage and family is most important here. I wish you to be at rest with your inner self, no one here will fear you but if you want to enjoy their warmth you must be in control or they will shy away instead of embracing you. Do you understand Jimmy? The whole city knows you are here and will be walking with me today. I am a member of their city and my family lives there. Please smile, be polite, and keep your arms at your side. If they nod their head please return that gesture of respect.
                We reach the top of the hill and I gasp; this is not what I expected to see. I see trees, land just as where I come from. Marla reading my mind laughs.
“We must get closer to see what you want Jimmy.”
As they walk the city takes shape; immaculate most unusual looking buildings, no transportation of any type, no roads. Smiling faces walking on the greenest grass he had ever seen. There are individual smaller structures that appear to become larger as they walk to the center of the city. Immaculate is all Jimmy can think of; flowers greenery it’s like living in a flower shop. The smell of all natural aromas relaxing him to euphoria of contentment unfelt in his 18 years. All structures appear to be copper, gold and silver in color. They continue their walk to the center, passing by smiling faces. No wonder they’re so happy, this place is magnificent. They walk into the largest building; it is unlike anything in his world. Beauty beyond imagination, it’s a community building for all to enjoy. They walk on to Marla’s home. It is the same and as beautiful as the whole city. Every structure radiates with color and warmth in ways he can’t understand. He has not been introduced to one person but he is not in his world. Marla laughs at his emotions and says
“We are one.” Only as we walked away from the city did what Marla was trying to get through my human head finally ring clear. They are all connected, what one feels they all feel. They’re not individuals; they are a society of one and the same. The consciousness of one is part of the consciousness of the whole.
Jimmy asks Marla “Do they really want to see me ride my accident machine,”
“Yes they are looking forward to it.”
So back over the hill and he comes back riding the accident machine. Everyone in the city comes outside to see him on his motorcycle as he rides around the outskirts. He stops and convinces Marla to hop on the back. He reassures her and she does. Around the city they, go people smiling and waving at them. He put the accident machine back into the barn.
                Marla and Jimmy walk back to her house in the city. He has the overwhelming urge to kiss her and does just that and she responds passionately. They spend the whole night embracing minds and bodies. They become one and in satisfying their sexual desires the whole city was feeling the pleasures of two. It was a night not to be forgotten, but his memory must be altered for their protection and his. Once he rides out of their dimension he is Jimmy enjoying his new motorcycle and the week or so he spent there was lost. They had returned him to the present time before his accident.                                                 
                That night he had the most amazingly beautiful dream. He has a wreck on his motorcycle and finds himself in another dimension where he meets a beautiful girl by the name of Marla. He spends time with her and they ride together around a city of gold, copper and silver structures that smelled as if it were a flower shop. They spend the night making love where he feels as though he is making love to more than one.
It was like he made love to an entire city. He has nightly dreams about this city and Marla who remains vividly in his mind. He cannot nor does he want to stop thinking about her or the city. It seems so much more than a dream. He is one of them if only in his dreams. 

Monday, November 15, 2010


It’s Magic
Light from within illuminates the quiet patio, the most charming area of the home. The old world workmanship creates character. Craftsmanship is spared nowhere in the building of this masterpiece. A quiet place to see another sunrise, to enjoy the warmth and coziness of a semi-warm morn, protected from the wind allowing the sun’s rays to make you feel fuzzy inside. The sun gives beautifully deep colors to the flowers on the patio. It gives life and deep green color to the ferns and somehow creates all the individual colors to the plants cared for with love. The same magical power penetrates all who wish to sit and appreciate.
This amazingly special corner appears to transforms all who participate in the simplicity of the surroundings. To sit in the comfort of the soft Rattan chairs and smell the natural aroma from the flowers. Its uniqueness brings magical powers to all which is the ability to refresh & renew ones essence. Be it the morning color, the noontime shade of a hot summer day, the gigantic glow as the sun sets to the full moon casting shadows of moon beams and the glorious dark nights where you can gaze at the beauty of the stars that make you feel so small.

Sunday, November 14, 2010


                Washington D. C. holds different ideas to the many citizens and people all around the world. Thousands of people vacation here every day. They come to see the monuments and the magnificent structures designed to mystify and represent “larger than life beliefs.”
                Demonstrations by all are allowed. The Lobbyist undoubtedly represent the most influential doing business here. If you call what they do business! Money speaks way too loud.
                Is their “smoke & mirrors” facade our history? Have we forgotten history as we grow up believing in The Constitution and our founding fathers creation of a Republic representative of “WE THE PEOPLE?” At what point did the “Corrupt Ones” take control or has it always been that way? Certainly plausible since corruption breeds, so invariably it has been going on from the beginning. As the world becomes one, “The Powers That Be” set their sights on the planet. We the people are merely chess pieces; lower class ones at that! The money grubbing power worshipers have always set on their thrones and watch as we the people fight and make money for them.
                Behind the monuments surrounding the city, underneath the “smoke and bull” is a city. It’s referred to as Sin City, funded by “The Powers That Be”. Who are “The Powers That Be,” these are the rich and powerful that have always had an agenda behind what it appears.
 I wish to tell you a story about one man and people who believe in him. Ian Michael Justus is a Mr. Smith goes to Washington type. Remember the movie with Jimmy Stewart? Ian Justus is a loyal honest hard working representative from one of the poorest district in the nation. Both parties poke fun at him. Ian Justus is backed by individuals from his area that fight to scrape out a living, also all the Mom and Pop businesses that somehow succeed in this part of the country. They are small farmers and poor people that choose to stay put in this area and not become like the rest of the country. Even in their home state they are made fun of because they remain true to values full of tradition.
                Ian Justus ran as an independent and was elected by believers. He is but one man, a victory none the less. Ian Michael Justus is a down home individual who was born here, goes to college here and has created jobs “here” for his own kind. A local success who is like everyone else; home town boy, (“not home boy”). He buys locally, drives a 10 year old pickup truck and goes to church on Sunday. Ian married his high school sweetheart and they have 3 children, a good old boy from this area who was elected by everyday people. Outsiders poke fun at him and say Gomer Pyle goes to Washington. Ian’s answer was simple “Gomer was a loyal honest simple man.” 
                Ian Justus laughed at by both parties. It did not matter; he was elected to represent the people and that’s what he plans to do. Ian is a charismatic young man born with a natural love of people and a down home flair that made you feel comfortable. “He’s a determined cuss” is what his mother says about him. Once strangers meet and see for themselves he is the real deal they no longer laugh. Soft spoken and at 6 foot 4 inches tall he does not go unnoticed. Ian was handed the worst office and jokes about it to everyone. That did not faze him he said simply “no one here elected him.” After 20 years he has chiseled out a core following all across America, buried by the traditional media. The alternative media can’t get enough of his wholesome and na├»ve charisma. He has a huge following in the world of the internet. He has his own successful websites and blogs. He doesn’t care what the ones in D. C. think. He makes comments on his blog such as “Living in Washington is like having the devil in your pocket.” That quote was not seen anywhere except the alternative medias.
                Ian’s office is always open to the alternative media, his foundation was built with them. He invites them to see his hometown, many accept. Once laughed at by both parties and the major news sources who now sense a wave. Smear tactics that have always worked in the past for them do not work on Ian Justus. His support grows as he visits numerous cities across the Midwest. He visit’s the smaller communities and attracts thousands to outdoor venues. The wave of popularity steadily grows.
                Ian has a core group of friends as his advisers, ones that he trusts and has always relied on. These friends keep him grounded as his name precedes him and is becoming a larger than life individual. They, as well as he, believe they must not sway and get caught up in the limelight. In order to remain true and stay grounded, Sunday is family and friends day; nothing political on this day. He describes it as Thanksgiving every Sunday. He writes his Internet views after a day of relaxation when his mind is clear. No speechwriters for Ian, he thinks for himself.
Ian Michael Justus represents much needed hope for people all across “America.” He represents the underdog, David verses Goliath. Corruption is out to get him. His followers will not allow that to happen. The wave rolls across America thanks to the common people.
                In the underground cesspool referred to as Sin City elected Representatives of the people indulge, paid for by secret societies and lobbyists from all over the world. Their wives are pampered as royalty. Their children play with the latest electronic gizmos before they are mass produced. Deeper is the Den of Sin, where billions of dollars of deals are finalized. Not in the House or Senate but underground out of daylight. The Den of Sin is real, here fantasies become realities. Here the last thread of decency is laid bare. These representatives, do the bidding of even darker ones. The “Darker Ones” pay the greedy so they appear spotless. These Powers That Be are everywhere. They are the ones that control all aspects of our lives and we don’t know it. TPTB have always controlled simply because they know they can! Once Sin City has you, you are one of them.
                It does not take drugs to corrupt. The oldest form of pleasure and greed works nicely. In Sin City the darkest fantasies are possible, customized to your taste. Every one succumbs to Sin City; it is simply a matter of time, everyone except Ian Michael Justus.
                Sin City has always been talked about in the elected city. In today’s world of information at your fingertips it becomes known worldwide, thanks to the Internet. It spreads like wildfire across the world. Ian Justus and the people demand an end to it. A rally is held protesting such a dastardly place. The people as in “we the people’ have had enough. Several hundred thousand show up and the main speaker is Ian Justus. Signs everywhere proudly display I am for Justice, also signs saying ‘Just Us” can take back our country. The massive crowd wants the walls of Sin City to be torn down. Flyers are being handed out showing all the hidden, secret, side doors, back doors and even underground private entrances from private chambers. We the people are here to block and ferret out the vermin. There was no place to hide as thousands go inside and bring them out. It was a fine day for fishing as they catch many fish to fry with pictures going simultaneously around the globe. It was just not our elected officials. Big whoppers from around the world are caught with their pants down.

                The whole planet witnesses as it happens. No military, no police no one imagined anything like this would happen so no one tried to stop the wave as it washes out the den of rats. Nobody was physically hurt, not one shot was fired. It was a victory seen around the globe for the common man everywhere.
                The rats were never again seen. New representatives with the people agenda are elected. They build a new capital in Iowa, the center of America surrounded by corn. A tidal wave has swept away the old corrupt ways and is building fresh, a new start led by President Ian Michael Justus and all of the “JUST US” across the land.   

Saturday, November 13, 2010


          Oh Boy! What a powerful word, I found. 13 letters enough to make my brain sweat, woooh weee!!! This gonna be fun and I might enlist some of the free-loaders in Mr. Brain to help out on this here predicament, that I might of gotten myself into, so let's see where this goes! (REMEMBER HOW I JUST LOVE THAT CUTE LITTLE EXCLAIMATION POINT.) Webster says; To free from ignorance, to inform. Errr they talking about freeing me from ignorance because that ain't never gonna happen! "Shit it would be easier to free the rest of the world from ignorance than you" says Fartman. (Free loaders starting on me already.)
          I know ones now, that are no more enlightened, than when they were teenagers and thought through their? whatch-a-ma-call-it. The guys anyway!
          The girls are spoiled rotten by their parents, expecting to marry a rich good looking young man and live happily ever after. Wow, do they live in a fairy tale world.
          The real world comes quickly to the un-enlightened ones. Especially those who have children way too early. Children thinking they are adults. Size and parts getting bigger does not create adults.
          To be enlightened one must listen (ain't no teenagers ever listened, no chance in hell!) Absolutely not, the definition of teenagers in the dictionary is; ones who does not listen to any adult, but they sure read text messages and send them ha ha! (small chuckle is acceptable and appreciated here.)
          Sorry, sometimes I lose track of who is running my brain, me or all the misfits hidden in all the unused parts, "that's the whole thing" says Sissy Smartassy. I must apoligize when I'm really tired, the misfits awaken and led by Captain Bob Square Head they attempt mutiny. I have the last laugh, I receive info from the far corners of my brain. Paul Revere, the former leader of the group Paul Revere and The Raiders, somehow jumped inside and all he does is run around and sing.
          "Okay, okay, okay! Damn there is Joe Pesky again. Enlightenment, whoa! whoa! whoa! there! Does anyone actually know what that word means? To enlighten; would be to teach and that ain-na gonna happen! Everywhere I go, I witness no signs of "light."  Them bulbs have never been turned on, or burned out from usage upon going to school. Them bulbs overloaded and blew from never being used because all them young-ins have ever around is their parents.
          (This might be a smidgen off course but hell who cares when I am writing. At last count I had 16 freeloading misfits that were a homesteading unused territoty upstairs so bear with me or is that bare with me!) "Okay! okay! okay," damn it there he goes again. (The little freeloading ????er.)
          I would say that by the sixth grade I was enlightened with all the schoo-lin I ever needed. You are a-thinkin, "WHAT?" "I hear you," well once you can read "real good" you can read on your own and learn. However one must be smart "enlightened" enough to see through the bull. (Please don't make me have to explain "BULL" to you,) just think Politician.         
          To free from ignorance, it can't be "dumn." Man ol live if you were born ignorant, who you gonna call to raise your intell level. Crazy uncle Beaumont or silly aunt Sally. You think an exorcism gonna wash away the bad and leave only the good, you been watching too many info-commercials. Nope, your only hope is a brother or sister that them big eyed big headed aliens awaken. They come in the dark of night and take you up to their ship and put in a twist of enlightened D. N. A. into your family D. U. M. A. S. S. genes. Then you have someone to enlighten the family.  It is my expert advice as a graduate of Dumassology from GlenView University it ain't never gonna happen!!!
                                                                                    Typed by the misfits of Glen's brain.                      

Monday, November 8, 2010


          Oh boy! This oughta be fun!!! SENSELESS; Unconscious, Stupid, Foolish, Meaningless. This is what I have been known to call some of the where I work. Ha HA! It's okay to laugh, I laugh at them every day. For without that laughter I would be even crazier than what you read here, now that is a scaarryy thought!
          For the most part I actually enjoy how I make a living. I do many different jobs so boredom does not set in most of the time.
          I suppose what I really excel at is telling the ones who are lazy nincapoops that they are lazy nincapoops. I did not mean to repeat myself I just like the word nincapoops! That particular word seems to sum up the 4 words defining "SENSELESS." I have been forbidden to use the more gutter descriptive favorite verb word because I will get a write up. I am saving that one for when I need a vacation of 3 days.
          If someone is doing something stupid, I don't mind calling them stupid. If they don't like me calling them stupid then why in hell do stupid stuff, (you thought I was going to say shit, didn't you) I would not do something stupid like that would I?
          Now if someone is working so slow as to appear unconscious; deprived of consciousness, now don't that just seem "senseless," ain't that just plum stupid! here I go and look up the definition of unconscious and them nincapoops that sets around figuring out these damn (oops, sorry ) words use the same fricking ( no foul, acceptable substitution ) variation of the word to define the word that I want to understand. Sheesh that pisses me off! ( I just love that cute little exclamation point!!!!! ) I'll assume unconscious means deprived of oxygen. Then hey, I don't mind telling them they work as if they are unconscious.
          If a spade is a spade then someone who is stupid would you not call them stupid? It seems people don't like hearing the truth. They must live in the imaginary world of "Sponge Bob." It makes sense to me if these stupid people were not so stupid, then I would not call them "STUPID."
          What can I say about the word "FOOLISH." I ( foolieve ) haaah, haaah, haaah! ( sorry I could not help myself ) I can sum this one up, in one word, fool, fool, fool ,fool foooool!
          MEANINGLESS; I could write for a long time on that there one word but hell I wouldn't do that to you!

          I wish to leave you with one point, I place the check spelling on and for this post and that was SENSELESS!!! It is past my bedtime can you tell?

Sunday, November 7, 2010


My name is James Goddard. I wish to tell you a story. My wife Elizabeth “Liz” is a Psychologist at one of the way too many, Mental Health Care Clinics in the state. She specializes in teenagers. This is the last hope or last chance for these young ones. These are not the violent ones. They are the withdrawn ones that have dug in deep inside their minds. They bury their heads deep which is the only way they know to survive. Blocking out all life, good or bad; there lies no feelings.
                Liz simply has the word “HOPE” on her door. She adorns her office with pictures that simply imply hope. She strives for one spark one flicker of such to build on for each client. She refuses to use the word patient; each person is an individual not a number, a unique individual that must be recognized as such. Liz has found these unwanted ones have been treated as objects; loved less by parents than material objects. These children, even if they have two parents do not find themselves lucky because they are unwanted by both. So as Liz represents their last hope, she never gives up on them. She is their last and only shot at life. She must give them a glimmer of the much needed “hope.”
                These are castoffs, ravaged by divorce, alcohol, drugs, mental disorders caused from family problems of yester year, or today’s world of “I don’t care about anyone, except myself.” Liz believes foremost, the core problem is that the lack of attention, family values and upbringing has eroded as each new generation develops. You must have these building blocks as babies, toddlers and young children to succeed in the world, without them they have no way to cope let alone attempt to survive. Without “proper” guidance, even with a semi-solid foundation, it becomes too easy to veer off course. Leading to mistakes multiplied many times over.
                So you can now appreciate the odds are stacked against Liz before she meets one child. Still she greets each day as a new beginning no matter how low her head is hanging the night before. No matter how tired she is when she drags herself in the door, she has a ritual. She starts with a relaxing bath, a glass of wine, unwinding to music and then becomes my wife. For without separation of work and family she could not carry on. She understands she must have her time, her family in order to be the “Rock of Gibraltar” for the not as fortunate children with the “lost spirit and souls.”
                Our children are grown and Liz wishes to make our home as a halfway house for young adults. I resist that idea because I firmly believe that there must be a separation of work and family. Liz would work 24 hours a day. I know her better than she knows herself. She would burn herself out and be unable to help anyone. I must refuse for her sake.
                Liz has helped many unfortunate ones in her career. Many have gone on to college. Without her intervention many were prone to an early exit of life most probably. She stays in touch with all, through e-mails, lunches, holidays.
                We bring 3 different young adults home every Sunday for dinner to enjoy our home and family. They help with preparing dinner and the cleanup. Many hold fast to that indifferent attitude yet pitch in to help.
                After an early retirement, I become hooked as her passion now consumes me. The feeling that you can make a difference is rewarding beyond comprehension. The giving of one’s time and love makes a difference in ones direction. We now are bringing them home for the weekend. The newly found joy in these searching for normalcy gives hope.  We receive an outpouring of support from former success stories as they lend a hand to help these people grow and to inspire them. We soon open our doors full time not as a transition house but a house of hope for those soon to be released. The once castoffs have learned to value themselves and grow through love and understanding, young adults must be taught to feel love in order to give love.
                One young man has always held a soft spot in our hearts. John Jacob Jamison. Deeply sad looking yet underlying there is a brilliance overlooked until Liz. His shell so thick he refused to allow anyone in, adults that is. Around others his age and younger he shows compassion and understanding well beyond his age. When adults enter the picture he recedes once again. Liz is convinced he has never had an adult that he could truly count on in his life. It was never a question of intelligence. His I. Q. is above average. He could not relax around adults.
                Liz brings him home for weekend visits. The same thing happens here, helpful with the other young ones. However when we are around he retreats into his world. He has never known love from adults, so he cannot give or respond. Children on the other hand he understands. We observe and try to understand. We discuss putting our arms around him and hugging the fear out of him.
                In today’s world of hands off, we restrain. One day after witnessing John counsel younger children after a disagreement. He advises them to hug each other to harbor no grudges. They respond to that and walk away feeling good about themselves and each other. John walks right by me I stand in his way and give him the biggest and warm heart filled bear hug. I was not going to turn him loose if he fought. He never fought, we cry as one and Liz witnessing got into the act. All 3 overjoyed and cry for the same reason. We sit at the table where I pour us each a glass of milk and slice us a piece of apple pie. We celebrate singing inside. Truly amazing what a hug of love can accomplish.            
                John has gone on to work just as Liz, helping children to deal with problems beyond their understanding. Raised by insecure children that should never have children, a vicious cycle spiraling out of control. Thanks to those than truly care, some are saved. 


Monday, November 1, 2010


          Seems I was too windy on Corner Lot 4 and cut it short. I wish to make amends and finish the story more proper and give my thoughts (OH NO).
          Dorothy's critters visit her every night until one night her heart gives out and she passes in her sleep. Old age always wins. If love of life, love of animals, love of her home and love for her new young-ins was the only factor she would live forever.
          Eric and Stacey maintain the ritual of Dorothy's animals visiting every night. Unsure when or if Dorothy can come back like the animals. They keep her picture on their nightstand and her last story she wrote about them. It was about 3 people meeting unexpectedly and becoming a family.
          It has been 10 years and Dorothy has not come back to them. They consider their own mortality and prearrange their funeral.
          It was a snowy, icy January day and they were returning from the grocery. Their time ends suddenly. A delivery truck crosses the center line and both die instantly.
          Eric and Stacey purchased the property across the road. They leave money to build and maintain a home for children. To be overseen by the county with the funds to be self sustainable for a long, long time. Their only regret was putting their jobs before being parents and missing the special love of raising children.
          Before their deaths Eric and Stacey talk in great depth about Dorothy unable to return to them like her pets. All 3 believed it would happen.
          A few days after burial Eric's and Stacey's spirit rises through the ground, they sense love. All of the animals that use to visit, were there. Fully visible forms and standing behind them was Dorothy smiling and looking forever young. She hugs them and says "I waited for you two young-ins," and that they were. as young as the day they met. Dorothy adds, "we began this journey together and we will enter our home together." Home is where the love is!

                                                                  I hope you enjoyed my little story CORNER LOT.   G. E. G.