Drunk and Drunkard

Episode 1: Diluted Intellectual Clause-et Residual

Her day consists of a routine, rise out of bed at an early hour, to get ready to walk to work, while her lazy, decadent so-called, lover lays in bed half asleep, the remedial sponge, that is leeching off her incomes, from work, and her monthly spousal income from her not so recent separation from her husband. Her lover has no clue other then to sponge and soak in exchange for sexual favors so as not to have to look for a job, which would certainly be the furthest priority that would filter through the lecherous IQ of the booze soaked brain that occupies the waste of skin’s skull. She applies her makeup in a well rehearsed fashion, with her clothes all organized from the previous evening, before she started to inebriate her liver and destroy her brain cells with the consumed contents of the empty bottle of vodka, now resting on the middle of her small dining table, refracting the early autumn’s sun, shining through the opened blinds of the southern window. Thinking that she has it all together, and has no problems, other then her alcoholism, in which she views as a harmless vice to escape reality, and a release from the stresses of work, and her X-husband’s recent request to get a divorce, she continued her preparation to enter another workday. “Can you bring back supper tonight? I am not in the mood for cooking tonight.” requested the waste of skin, still lazing about in the bed. “You sit around the apartment all day, and never clean. The least you can do is cook, and smoke that crack somewhere else. If you don’t like it, leave. I don’t need to be supporting your lazy butt.” she said finishing her makeup. “Oh, so you want to go back to your X, right?” snapped the waste of skin, rolling over towards the edge of the bed. “At least he worked. What do you do? Nothing. You eat all my food and drink all my wine. So like I said, if you don’t like it, leave.” she continued, as she finished dressing, grabbing her purse and heading towards the door. “Clean this place up or leave! And have supper ready!” she commanded as she slammed the apartment door behind her. “Bitch!” said the waste of skin knowing she would not hear.

Walking to work, she was thinking about the conversation she had on Friday night with her X about him wanting a divorce. Her fear, she contemplated, was if she agreed to a mutual divorce, he may use that to stop the monthly payments. She also did not want him to know about her live-in spouse, that could be viewed as an income source she has not declared, not that her spouse brought in any money anyway. She was also warned by a legal friend, that if she changes her name back to her maiden name or otherwise, could forfeit the separation agreement. For now, she was satisfied that she bullied her X into believing she would not agree to the divorce unless he paid out the remainder of the monthly settlement to get this divorce.  She knew he wanted her back, but had no empathy towards this desire and put it out of her hung-over mind. In her view, she was much more satisfied with her female lover, even though she was a loser and a tramp, that was not good for much other then consumption and sexual activity. As she got closer to her workplace, she wondered how she would get to work in the winter, with her vehicle smashed up by her waste of skin lover. She had all the estimates, but found that she could not afford the cost. But she knew she had to bite the bullet and pay for the repairs. She also knew that her waste of skin lover would not ever get the keys again.

Back at the apartment, the waste of skin was talking on her cell phone. “Yeah, come on over. She went to work. We have a few hours. Ok, see you soon.” said the waste of skin as she ended the call. She turned on the radio and started dancing around, as she grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge and poured a glass. She was in her underwear, white and black panties, which were more like a G-string, and matching bra. Her body was lean and hard, and had rose tats on her stomach, shoulders and neck. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. She stopped dancing and placed her glass of wine on the coffee table, then went towards the door. “Jimmy?” she asked before opening the door. “Yeah.” answered a adolescent toned voice behind the door. She opened the door and she jumped up on him, straddling her thin shapely limbs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately as Jimmy carried her through the threshold and kicked the door closed, then carried her into the bedroom, throwing her on the bed. He undressed quickly and they made love.

Later, they were both on the bed relaxing and smoking a cigarette. “So Tarla, did you talk the old bitch into a threesome yet?” asked Jimmy puffing on his smoke. “No, her X has been calling so it is not a great time to ask. I will though when the time is right and when she is drunk. But I think she hates men, so I do not know if she will go for it anyway.” said Tarla butting out her smoke. “They cancelled that credit card account that we used her X’s credit information to get. I tried to re-open it, but he must of found out and changed the information with Trans Union because I cannot use the card anymore.” said Jimmy as he held his smoke, resting his hand on his hairless chest. “That sucks. We are going to have to find another way to get money. Her credit is in the toilet so we would not get anything out of her, said Tarla as she got up and started to dress. “Jimmy just laid there and finished hos smoke. “Come on Jimmy. You have to leave. I have to clean up this place and plan supper. If we ever hope to con her to do a threesome, I have to butter her up. Once we have her into that, she will pay us both to keep our mouth shut, once we get us on video.” said Tarla with a devious grin. “Do I have to? She wont be back for hours.” said Jimmy not wanting to leave the bed. “Get out now!” demanded Tarla as she ripped the blanket off Jimmy’s naked body. Jimmy reluctantly got up, butted out his smoke, and got dressed. “May be you can come out and visit tonight? We could go to the bar and dance.” suggested Jimmy putting his shoes on in the hall by the door. “Not tonight. I have to start paying attention to her and get her back on track. She is ready to throw me out. So, I am staying in tonight, so go!” said Tarla as she pointed towards the door. Jimmy opened the door and swiftly stole a kiss from Tarla as he walked out the door. He turned around to look at her as she slammed the door in his face. “Tarla!” exclaimed Jimmy in protest behind the closed door.

To be continued, if the world lasts that long…

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2017

Black Outpost of The Oblivion

Furthest from the sanity of your mind resides reality, a conception of aggressive will and greed. We all pretend it is not there, but we feed from it, and nurture  it everyday. We all wish it was different. That we could give into our inner thoughts of equality and generosity. But the more we try to be decent human beings, the more we get dragged back into the “outpost of oblivion”. This realm is one of our own creation. One of vanity and defamation. We defile others to the benefit of ourselves out of selfish greed and love of lavishness and opulence. As churches and places of spiritual worship crumble, we construct huge, glass, marble and metal cathedrals of distain and profit. No person actually resides in these habitats of greed because they were created for the worship of money and ravenous, where only demons of corruption dwell to be adorned as they feed off the weak and money hungry, the soulless shells of existence. These demons siphon out their souls and conquers their will to do the bidding of evil and wantonness.

We will never change. Because we have all failed to learn what we were placed on earth for in the first place. Do you think a “big bang” happened, and there you were, to a be greedy selfish fool? To be allowed to grasp everything in your reach and dominate others? Do you really think it is that simple? Well, I hope I am at the gates when you die because it ought to be comical. Which gates? I guess that is an easy one to contemplate seeing what we have done to this earth and others around us. But we can all rest assured it is not as easy as scientific analogies. When you die, you will have to have faith or burn. Burning has nothing to do with dying. Burning is eternal, like eternal light. You either rise to the light, or burn from its rays. You can say, religion does not recognize science. But it is the other way around. The church, one way or another , always believed in science, whether they called it witchcraft or earthly. It is science and the scientific community that has no belief in religion or spiritualism. They think it is tripe, unproved and superstition. It does not fit into their cookie-cutter, slide-rule formulae or thesis.

But wait, is that not why we were spawned on this earth in the first place? To learn from the elite’s boorish, narrow-ism and prudish epitomes of snobbery and greed? So we can all become, “just like them”, or at least wannabes, dregs to the possibility of wealth and plenty. Slaves. We have not learned anything and keep right on towards the damnation of these designing grifters of fortune. They have stolen your futures and your children’s futures. There is no hope other then the illusion of opulence because we are bound to it even though we will never attain this lifestyle in the true sense of the reality. We can just watch from a distance as your children starve and frolic in the streets of oppression. We have too much “instant knowledge” and we think we really understand what it means, but we have no clue, other then the surface understanding of what it may read or demonstrate. We can all learn the correct information, but lack of understanding and, not twisting or using this information for selfish purposes becomes impossible because of the abundant examples set forth in front of us on a daily basis by our so called mentors and teachers.

If we were indeed placed on this earth to do good will, we have failed so miserably that it is not a wonder why God has forsaken us to rot on this earth. Some believe that Armageddon has started some time ago and, we are all the misfortunate ones to suffer until death, then to be judged for the accumulative sins still left on the earth at the time of demise. I believe that there maybe many that want to change the earth, but because power and greed has taken its influence throughout the globe, there are really no populace left not corrupted by rapaciousness and destruction. So many questions about why God allows these hurtful events to happen on a daily basis. But it is the wealthy and elite of this lavish circle that directly causes these offences to multitudes and sometimes nations of people. God gave us free will, therefore cannot control the countless foolish greedy decisions made on a minute to minute basis by the truly ignorant. We are the only ones that can change this tide of destitution and dark nights of the soul.

Ever wonder why your husband left you alone? Or why your wife left you alone? Or why your child is begging on the street corner?  You sit alone waiting for your loved one to reach out for you but instead everyone concerned gets more hopelessness and waning. You cannot enjoy anything anymore and sit in a gloom of despair and loneliness, like caught in a web of deceit and hurt, in a dungeon of torture, where once happiness was in abundance. The essence of this desperate destruction is sweet to the grasping and treacherous, and they feed with glee until your last ounce of hope is sponged away by the intrusive injurious. Your heart beats hopeless rhythms  of despair, a march of the abandoned, a waltz of the slandered, encumbered and toiled, grounding into the earth, melded into the mud of apathy and hate. Once you emerge from the mud out of which your new existence has been incubated, your strength and determination will flourish, and your hope and empathy will blossom into ever luminesce shards of blistering light, for all the hopeless to follow. This is the blight that has enthralled upon your reborn path like divine inspiration from above. Judgement, true and lasting which in the end, separates the world into proper order. Until then, do not fear solitude, embrace it.

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2017

Jingoist Day 911

Theory of Relativity in a Vacuum

It is curious that search engines like droogle do not have a fancy logo or reference to Patriot Day. They do have a remembrance ribbon for September 11th however, if you go to droogle.com. It does not surprise me at all really. Because of the bull dung the “status quo” of North America is trying to ram down everyone’s throat about what “really” happened on September 11th, 2001. In truth, the so called leaders and 1 percent of society, or anyone else that benefited off the “twin towers card” of destruction would love to see it “go away”. Personally, I think there are a multitude of reasons that Patriot Day is now being shunned by the elite and greedy. Could it be because of the New World Odorous Order? Of course that would be it, yes. No need for patriotism when traitor-ism has become normalized as a standard practise and behavior. If you believe that terrorists were responsible for 911 than yes, you are very naïve. So much so that you would most likely be a salesperson’s dream as you came waltzing into their sales floor with a spotlight following you and a sign on your forehead that read “sucker”. 911 occurred because of traitors and rapaciousness. You may think that jumbo jets can cause that kind of systematic destruction, but that does not make it remotely true or even believable in the most illusionary of fantasies. But let us think for a moment. Ahh, yes, Einstein theorized that there is no gravity, really? Or sort of? Well, of course it has no wave length, so it cannot be real?   Theory of relativity? Everything is moving in a wobbling motion as they orbit around the sun and other planets due to the relative masses affecting or effecting each others motion? Thus a mass can effect other masses in motion but cannot effect an apple falling due to gravity on Newton’s head? Got it!

Sedition in a Vacuum

But we assume that Einstein’s theory disputes gravity rather then attempts to redefine what actually causes the phenomenon. Who cares really. If you paid attention in physics, you could figure out how long it would take for a building to fall to the ground while being demolished with demolition charged explosives. But hey, let us challenge established laws like Newton’s Law to accommodate the retarded, official 911 commission report. So many people died that day on 911, and so many people (traitors) that were responsible, were allowed to go free and live out their lives as if nothing happened. I am glad I was not one of those traitors because how could you live with what you avertedly or in-avertedly done?  I would venture there were a lot of people involved who had no clue what was really going to happen, or to what magnitude. Here is some money. Keep your mouth shut, or else!. Or else what? Indoctrinated futures of discredit-ion. A slow painful path to bankruptcy and destitution. People that dared to scrutinize what really happened felt that wrath depending on their influence and positions. Needless to say many of them lost those positions and credibility. That is the power of brainwashing and indoctrination especially where a gullible rapacious public is involved, watching indoctrinated news reports and publications. You know, the same publications that covered the Bruce Jenner story? If you are confused what story that was, well whatever.

Freedom of Speech in a Vacuum

Writers now are faced with indoctrinated peer pressure. Is it ok to be a patriot? Or write about a patriot? Is it ok to write about jingoism? Bellicosity? Or would that writer be labeled as a chauvinist? A feminist? A jingo promoting opprobriousness? Are writers that write what they are inspired just a bunch of jingoes? Or just problematic when it comes to rapacious pedagogy. Let us face the facts. If you cannot write what you want then freedom of the press, freedom of speech means nothing. It means you can write what you want as long as your “sponsors” like what you scrawled for their funneled version of the truth all in the name of their current ad campaign. Even fictitious writers seem to be influenced by this nonsense, if you really look at the movie line ups of the last 5 years. I do not think that one of the last 3 Oscar winning films held my attention for more then 5 minutes before I felt my mind being melded into ridiculous forms of twisted epitomic force-fed crassness. But nothing exceeds like excess and if you thought something was proper or improper? Think again because it all depends on the current advertising campaign and/or sponsor. What they want to sell, to convince the masses that they are the real power that should be adhered to, subliminally of course.

Enigmatic Mysteries in a Vacuum

Mini-Monarchs of our society are stealing your future legacies. They are solidifying their own futures at the expense of your dwindling, disappearing future, financially of course, guaranteeing that your offspring will be enslaved to be their servants, with no real self-worth or dignity, only what they are labeled to be as far as the 1 percenters are concerned, not they are concerned if you live or die, until they have to actually do their own work.  Then they may call an ambulance if you have the proper medical coverage, that they do not pay for, and as sure as your great grandfather’s 50 years of service gold pocket watch sits in the local pawn vendors safe in hock, they are making profit off the medical care you are about to receive, from overpaid medical staff, through the hospital’s administration lord, Amen. Patriot’s Day was the day that the Imperialistic scum in United States were vanquished and chased out of the United States’ economy and government. Patriot Day is an odd name for what happened in 911 because it had very little to do with being a patriot, seeing that it was truly a traitorous event. It was the most in-cohesive, inconsistent, incoherent, illegal resolve to a planned disaster ever to misfortunately occur on this planet. But then again, they pretty much got away with the assassination of JFK? Who are they? It is a big mystery wrapped in an enigma. If you believe that last line, well, there really is no hope for you. Sorry.

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2017