Back From The the LIVING DEAD, like LAZARUS, I am BACK!
My Fellow News Talkers. Communists, I be here, before you, not behind you, to explain the "Tooth, da Whole Tooth, and Nutin' Butt the Tooth, so help me, GARFIELD"!
Garfield, if you are unaware, is the "nickname" for GOD, as told to me, in a drunken state of excess consumption, that "Donnie TRUMP" is all BULL SHAT, and ain't right in da' head.
Super-secret, secrets were mysterious, locked in "the vault', of me seldom-used mind. Info shared with me by the "White, Blue Eyed, Long Haired, Blonde Jesus", or someone that looks a whole lot like HIM.
As my dear friends here at the News Talker.com (-munist) are aware, I have, like LAZARUS, or someone with a similar name with fewer vowels, also returned from the "Walking Dead Concerts", healed of my illusions and ready to get back in the "BLAME GAME".
I blame the ORANGE TURD for "Shat-ting" on our beloved Constitution, then, having the audacity to wipe his big, fat Butt with it, because he can't read. What a sad sack!
Friends, that just ain't right!
Donnie shouldn't do that. He shouldn't do anything.
Donnie wants to "rip the Constitution into itty-bitty pieces", then rewrite them himself, but he can't spell. When you hang out in HELL too long, that's what happens.
The problem with 'dat Fat Fugazi ' is that Donnie is a byproduct of Human Waste Materials, and can't read, write, only lie very well.
The Bone Spur, Fake-Man, can "holler and snort" like a bull in heat, but when it comes to writing, his AI assistant has to do it fer him. Or, so I am told by one of my many hallucinations.
That is why the "COMPULSIVE LIAR" always alleges that he authored his pieces of NEO-NAZI, WHITE TRASH, that were the work of ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, Project 2025, Satan, and of course, his VP, "Hillbilly" What's His Face, 'cause poor "Dirty Diaper Donnie" is one Dumb FUGAZI.
I don't mean to burst your MAGA-LOONY BIN BUBBLE, Folks, but Donnie is not who you may think he is. He is a "a COVICTED FELON, ADJUCATED RAPIST, CAREER CROOK, that, to this day, can't cook".
Write that down in your Urine book of WIS-DUMB.
Donnie wants to be a dictator fer a day, he claims! Dictators don't work just for one day. They go on, and on for decade after decade. They can't help themselves. That is why they should be shot, er, I mean, get their shots.
Who in HADES does "Dirty Diaper Donnie" think is going to believe that HORSE-PUCKY, Bull Shat?
I ain't.
And, I am reasonably sure that the Bulk of Reasonable Americans ain't going to buy his quakery.
Trump is a fraud. Donnie can't control his bowels, how can he control the USA, and the WORLD?
My Fellow, Re-Puritans, "Lost Inside Donnie's Big, Fat, Ugly Arse", it is time, past time, to extract your cerebellum from his glutomaximun, before you, too, turn ORANGE, and transform instantly into a Trump A-Hole.
DISCLAIMER:
(God knows I blow bubbles, but that's all)
This has been a PSA (Public Service Announcement) from the "Dimly Light Folks" from the BIRD DROPPING INSTITUTE - A THINK-TANK fer MORONS, No Idiots, Please!
If you would like to see more illuminating briefs like these, send your LIFE SAVINGS to Reverend Oral Fleece,
Pasture of the Church of the "HOW BIG IS YOUR WALLET, HOW SMALL IS YOUR BRAIN"!
We are located in Mildew, Ohio, where there are NO JOBS, Not Even Blow Jobs.
Send $20 CASH, no damn, sissified checks, and I will send it back to you a thousandfold...s.!!!! I always fold my money, Honey!
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VOTE LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!
It does. Yours, your kid, grandkids, friends, love one, etc. Trump is extremely dangerous. Don't PET him.
give my disregards to nixon and raygun in hell, donald ...
This is true experience, and an eye-opener for me, that changed my perspective.
When I was setting up a program in Parkersburg, Va., under the auspices of the National Main Street Program, located in Washington, D.C., I was sitting on my bed in a tiny one-bedroom apartment.
It was nearly 7:30 PM, as I waited for my favorite TV series, "Cheers".
A soft, glowing, amber light, no larger than a candle wick, appeared, like magic, in the corner of the ceiling. It caught my eye and gave me a warm feeling.
When I casually looked up, I heard my Mother's voice. It was warm and happy. Then, I hear her voice, a happy, pleasant, loving voice that said:
"I JUST CAME BY TO SAY GOODBYE"!
It caught me off guard.
I wasn't spooked, shaken up, or fearful. Her voice was so happy, loving, tender, and cheerful. I, too, felt warm and loving.
Looking at the amber light, I started to say, at least in my head, "Oh, you are dead", but before I could get that thought out, she smiled again and said, "IT'S OK"!
And, phoof, just like that, she was gone!
The amber light surrounded the room until I stood up. I thought to myself that I should call my sister, Edith, in Columbus, Ohio, where I had taken my Mother to live with her eldest daughter.
I thought that I should call Edith and ask if she would check on Mom. I didn't have a cell phone at that time, so I headed to the door, but stopped.
That was a personal message, a lovely one, at that, perhaps the loveliest of a lifetime. So, I sat back down on my bed and felt the glow slowly slip away.
I smiled, because when I had driven my Mother to Columbus from Dayton, Ohio, she said, "Where are we going?"
My sisters had tried to tell me for years that Mom was showing signs of dementia, which I heartily denied.
"Oh, you girls never did like her!"
That ended that discussion quickly, which took place at my second-oldest sister Lois's home at a large family gathering.
I never brought that issue up again until Edith asked me to bring Mom to her home, which was on my way to Parkersburg, my new post.
As we drove, my mother smiled and looked at me, then said, "Now who are you?"
With a smile, I said, "I am your son, John". She smiled and said, "Oh, I thought you were my brother Bill". We both laughed in a warm, kind way.
The conversation went on like that during the 70-mile drive from Dayton to Columbus.
It was a wonderful, friendly, funny, loving experience for us both, as we spoke in this manner for over 90 minutes. We laughed and laughed with each other, and seemed to be on the same frequency.
If someone had asked me a nanosecond before hearing her voice in my head when she passed, I would have said such a thing was impossible, or, my frequent retort, "Are you out of your freakin' mind"?
Now, I know these paranormal things can happen, and they have many times since. There is more to reality than we might be aware of. It opened my eyes and mind to the concept of other dimensions, the unknown, and for some, the unknowable.
For years, I kept these things to myself until it happened again with my wife's mother at her funeral.
These, and other moments, are among the best experiences of my life, next to all of the moments I have spent with my wife, of course, Horse!
I am not the same, or sane man, I used to be. But I am finally more comfortable with myself and others.
How do I copy the above MASTERPIECE so that I might post it to my
post it to my friends, and interested folks?
A tender story. I, too, currently have an aging mother who is. . . forgetful about what I still term, "a few things" - though family is saying much more is going on (mild-stage dementia). They tell me I am in denial (too). I just. . . just want to remember the 'powerhouse' woman who used to cook, bake, and work 'beyond.' Now, of course, she sits alot. . . nursing varying decrepit knees and dare I say it now? Mind.
Open up a (blank) Word document.
Come back to your comment 2.1 and copy it: (Drag across all the text of it and right click on your mouse: Choose "Copy."
Go: To the Word document.
Right click: Choose "Paste" or "Paste as plain text."
(Do not forget to "SAVE" the new document before you leave the scene of the crim— 'er close it!)
VOILA! You did it!
I often sense my Mother's presence as I doze off to sleep. I talk to her and tell her what I have been doing, not out loud, but in my sleepy dream.
It is warm, comforting, and soothing. There is more to life than what we see.
Over the decades, I have experienced Extraordinary communication that I have grown used to.
My love one is still with us, but aging is taking a 'toll' and well. . . my thoughts for 'what's next' come into play.
You should tell us about these extraordinary communications. I, for one, would find it interesting—seriously. Most likely it/they could engender a deep discussion!
People are saying that is was both literally as well as figureatively.
One can only imagine how much Lazarus stank if he indeed came back from the dead 'n putrid cave of horrors. Anyhoot odds are the 'miracle' was just another parlor trick as was the whole walk on water sham. "WTF" and "it's a miracle" are synonyms aimed by and at the 'no explanation needed' I have faith gullible.
Hallux, you are thinking too much about this one thing. Jesus came back from the dead too and had the 'evidence' (e.g. holes in his hands and feet from spikings; wound in his side) and well, we get no points for suggesting either set of wounds were 'presently' oozing pus and other 'corruption.' So the thinking goes. . . as with Jesus' flesh regenerated. . . so it is with Lazarus.
Of course, the civil thing to do would be to take Lazarus 'in' and wash him down with rose-water or whatever. Before that famous meal he was said to have reclined at with his fellow believers!
WTF???
Stop responding to me with repeat profanities, please. It's enough.
CB: You are like a LOST FRIEND that I found, again. It is good to hear your voice.
What's up, Dude? I miss your posts. They are gripping, informative, and heartfelt. The world needs more writers like you!
STELLAR DAYS!
Well now, that gets a check in the mail!
Yes, I agree with dat, one hundred percent.
SOLID ADVICE!
Perhaps, but maybe not!
I was going to leave something here, but I seem to have misplaced it elsewhere....
There's an olde saying-- that certainly applies to one particular candidate I'm thinkingn of (but I'm not going to tellanyone who it is):
How can you be two places at once when you're not anywhere at all?
Now that is an "Artist" twist of Fate!
I recall your stuff was always good.