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Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.

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One small step…?

It is a small step?

It was a small undertaking, unimportant.

iGus peers from the shadows of “fiction”.

I abide.

Oh, how the truth does set one free.

Cowards need not apply, liars lay in thine grass.

No issue, I own my miles, in my gulch.

The grass is orange.

Fuck you cancer, we win…again.

μάνα, για πάντα στην καρδιά μου.

*abide*

02-16-2013 

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Cheese Bakonnosaurus Crackers

“These cheese covered, bacon crackers are fully functioning magic heeling treats…when circumstances of disparate hunger, munchies or pixies demanded, lbs/kgs of bulk and beautiful bacon would be crisped, sharp teeth gnashing at the thought of what was to come…my Star Spangled Banner solo, was actually not only acid, it was the Bakonnosaurus treats…love that Fetaman…man…” Jimmy Hendrix, describing his Bakonnosaurus trips with Fetaman, Neil Young and Gordon Lightfoot

This is not for the faint of heart, or those that do not like massive amounts of cheese and bacon to be hoarded into their bodies for the afterlife. If you are one of these types that has no self-control, or can not handle things in moderation, with balance and other healthy choices, your decision to continue.

I am not forcing you to, but it may lead to some serious cholesterol issues if you are not responsible.

As a reward for ensuring you have worked out, or been good, or accomplished what you want, or simply as a reward for wanting to eat something incredible, take yourself back to the time when the roaming dinosaurs, needed to get a snack and even the herbivores fell for the old “it is really tofu bacon” trick that T-rex was infamous in using to lure them in.

(T-Rex was not like the old Canadian Club monkeys, he was loyal to the real kingdom, and Crown Royal)

You will need;

  • Bacon,
  • Feta cheese *or a crumble like cheese
  • White Cheddar, aged *or alternative you like
  • Virgin olive oil
  • Toothpicks
  • Dips at your discretion and desire

 

  1. The typical package, pre-cut, has about 18-20 slices. Let’s just slice them each down the middle, and you will now have 36 “crackers” once they have been crisped to your liking. I usually do not do this in a pan, too greasy, but if you want to – go ahead. I use the Fetaman grill (*wrestled George for the rights, but he was strong, and has so many kids, what do I need more fame for). The drippings allow for the bacon to stay the right kind of crispy, and depending on the size of the cuts (*you want smaller bites, cut them again, now you have 72 small pieces, or when combined, 36 bacon cluster sizes) will yield a crunchier or cheesier end product.
  2. One of my secrets is here, is that I will actually place half toothpicks (*yeah, that cheap, for fucks sake they are going to be thrown in the garbage) in half of the bacon pieces before they cool. It means, I can use them as pre-fabricated roofs for the Bakonnosaurus treats, and when the cheese all melts it is a perfect cocktail/party/movie/Twitterverse treat.
  3. You can then place a crumble cheese in the middle, I obviously use feta, or you can use a softer cheese, like the white cheddar. Using the crumble, but yet still melting cheese, provides a texture and taste that is a favorite, and seriously, this is not rocket science.
  4. Place the next piece of bacon on top of it, and some of the white cheddar to melt and cover it, as much or as little as you like.
  5. All into the oven for a quick broil and heat.
  6. Remove, and thank the universe for being alive.
  • Impress the ladies with your marinara sauce, a dickory dipped blend
  • Use them as toppings for salad, as a way of changing up that Caesar feel – make it your cottage, go to “secret recipe”
  • Change up the cheese, and prove it is your own
  • Want to prove you got the spirit of Fetaman in you? Dip in some thick beer batter mix after, and re-fry those babies. When they are ready, and golden they will be lifted from the fryer by angels sent from Pontius Munchius.
  • If you really want to get creative, get sliced pea meal or back bacon, and cut into shapes with a cookie cutter (*yeah, the excess whatever Einstein, chop the extra pieces into tiny bits and crisp for bacon bits?) and just don’t go ballistic with cheese, make them “cultured for the opera set, they love bacon too” (*ummm, hello, how you think those ladies became so able to sing so loud and proud in signaling the end of the show?)

If you have not all ready shut this post down, and are not making your way to the stash, then the fridge/grocery store, please do it now.

If you are not wanting to try to do this, or not daring enough (*ladies only) to send me pics of you cooking said bacon, in stockings and stilleto’s, topless and taunting the bacon to come ‘atchya – please, no need to come back…

…unless you bowl in the gulch.

*abide*

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Citizenship in a Gulch

Citizenship in a Republic. Theodore Roosevelt in 1910.

This man spoke about courage skill tenacity, the obligations of a man within a state of nature, and being able to understand that the dust, the sweat and blood – are the echoes of an effective natural existence, fighting to accomplish what one wants.

Representing a complete and total disdain for the way that society may have begun to think about ones obligations of acting within a republic, the democracy, the general establishment of society that represented many, many things a hundred years ago. The impact and the changes to the way that men and women react, understand, communicate, transmit and effectively fight within this arena that we choose to be in.

When we consider the concepts of ‘you are responsible for the happiness’, what is will unequivocally be what is according to your mindset.

The mind is a very dangerous beast if it is left untamed and unchecked; unsupported within the very confines of an arena the parameters that you set for controlling it. Our mind body and soul represent three different distinct parts of humans, and what we believe we’ve come into the earth with and what we leave this earth with. There are two doors in this life; one we come into alone, and another we leave alone. As a result, it’s not about the one who points out that the other has stumbled or done wrong and professes through exclamation to be a judge of those deeds that could have been done better.

It is most certainly not about the man who actually just does nothing but spectate and take joy from some of the misery that could be existing within this arena.

It’s a torment and a challenge, the overcoming of it because of your will and purpose, and what you want to do, that is what it is about. The quest for greatness, of your own creation and action.

People have two fundamental drivers, that is either to seek pleasure or to avoid pain, and the avoidance of pain seems to be the greater part of that. This is why watching another go through pain and struggle to accomplish things that you may agree on, makes them a hero. If they seem to accomplish it, despite their struggle, you admiration becomes the essence of high regard. You have avoided the pain, and seen another gain, so you have a synthetic role, a synthetic essence, in this gain. Invested of sorts, and reaping some rewards. Right?

No? You don’t think that it’s an essence that’s important or you think that it fastidious, and you are going to laugh and relish the challenges that are in the arena.

You can laugh, but I would beg to differ, and argue that the importance of the citizenship in the arena concept and the credit does belong to the man who actually is in the arena.

The man who is marred by dust and sweat and blood who strives valiantly knowing that he is going to come up short again and again. Knowing there is no effort without error and shortcomings or without learning.

That man, deserves more than just a “don’t try” reference that has been warmed over by the Nike ‘just do it!’ campaign. Or the mediawaved form “they will tell you over and over again, that you can’t do it” another popcorn bag famous Nike ad slogan, but you will just do it because you are the one who is actually going to strive to do the deeds, you are going to know the great enthusiasm and the devotion that it takes to get there. You are going to define and understand what that worthy cause is that you are undertaking and you are going to be the one and the only one that truly knows.

Others might best know of those that are around to select the knowing of the best, but you are the one that ultimately knows that the triumph of high achievement has nothing worse in it than failure, which is one of the greatest things a man can accomplish, knowing that he is going to fail while daring greatly, while doing things that are so extra ordinary that his place shall never be with the motherfucking pieces of shit that represent the cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

That is the probably one of the saddest things one can imagine – people not having those experiences, not being able to see the fine difference and the big difference in the way that they live their lives. In fact, how they choose to live the life.

James Allan wrote the classic book back in the 1800’s, a favourite of mine for 15+ years, and I have read it a number of times. It is a  small volume about being aware, a meditation of sorts and a reflection of the understanding and experience of your self.

It deals with such things as thought and character and circumstance and how you’re dealing with those circumstances and what the differences are on how that dealing with the circumstance reflects in your health. In “As a Man Thinketh”, Allan talks about men and women being about the virtue of the thoughts that they choose and encourage. They are the makers of themselves.

As you think, so your heart shall be directed.

When you sit in the room alone in the dark talking to yourself people might think that you are crazy. People might say “wow that’s pretty strange, what odd behavior, how obscure.” Because the number of those people is greater than the number that would do that, or that typically find solace or escape or a place, a happy place if you will, a personal arena to struggle within for their own sake, the one’s that do that are considered odd, strange or eccentric.

They don’t see it as such however, because they exist in that space, the person that does that in the dark – typing on keys and reflecting on things that can be shared and passed along to other people, not because they are planned or they represent certain parts of research where you are reading off cue cards, no, they are natural, they are part of how and who you are – they have shaped you.

Nobody can replicate or duplicate who you are. You choose to make who that person is. Your act is the blossoming of a thought. The joy or the suffering of whatever the fruit is that you bring out, the man will garner and reap what is sown in the sweet and bitter fields.

Not all fruit is sweet, not all vegetables are bitter, not all of the wafty scent of shit appeals to everybody. A good wet field of shit on a hot summer day produces a smile that only a farmer could love. That does not make that smile irrelevant, nor does it make that smell perfume, it all is a function of the relevance of where you are in your life and what you are doing to impact that to make it different. You are going to go through that arena.

As a man focuses on a seed that is germinated into the mind, the garden represents your mind as a fertile soil, so, any foul seed  like a tumor in the brain, could get to a point where that tumor is about to explode, because it has manifested itself, by being thought of, as something in the garden. The pop, a crack like a seed, thus beginning to grow.

The cracking of that has got to be a painful process, the outer layers break, rupturing and piercing, and from within, that great deal of pain becomes this enormous new part of growth. This new life, again, coming from what was nothing, before it was even a seed.

I watched a show the other week about some black woman Iyanla, on the Oprah Winfrey network, I am not a big fan never watched a full episode in my life but this Iyanla woman had an episode called “Fix Your Life” and a big 300 woman audience.  I had been given a call and told to “watch it now” – don’t ask please – and she was talking about how do women expect to be treated this way, and what are we doing that is really pushing away the people in our lives as opposed to engulfing them when we want these open relationships.

Talk about Robert Fucking Di Niro, and I know it will be impossible to have some of the boys appreciate what I am trying to say, but being able to articulate it with a bunch of the words so I don’t get cut off, and so that they can read it and see it in its entirety, that becomes a moment in time, and humour in and of itself.

Stop fucking laughing, yeah, I am making a baked tangent leap of faith back to this Iyanla woman. She’s older, bigger, not exactly “beautiful” and or “my type” by many stretches of other’s imagination, but I can tell you, from my perspective, I just fell in love with this woman’s IQ.

Her confidence, her humour, and her fight in the arena, as a single, older black woman that has had challenges with men and dating, she spoke wonderfully, and powerfully as she talked about the concept of “intimacy” being similar to the words “into-me-see.” Because intimacy doesn’t represent a loving intimacy just between lovers here as were talking about it, but it also represents how you deal with the world and those around you. These were powerful words, regardless from who they came, or what their story was. She may be a great performer, or she may have just lived a life that has blessed her with the truth, and the integrity of character to walk tall.

Truth is a spine breaker, or a life maker. Can’t walk tall without a straight, and true spine.

You are reflecting what is within you, and so you have to remove what issues are in you and address those shortcomings, those judgments. You have to change what goes into the garden, to get what come’s out of it. Fantastic stuff, and as I begun to write this, and allowed my thoughts to take me on this journey, I would have never assumed my journey would take me to including Roosevelt, Allan and Iyanla.

Well played Fetaman, well played. You urban metrocheesexual.

Wisdom of the ages, life as one big remix, it has all been said before – does not mean that new way of expressing old messages is not going to yield new insight. Experiences and expressions are like tiny books that you can share with others, and with each reading, there will be more you can see, or consider.

One example of translating this old wisdom, into modern lore, was an exercise where she asked a woman from the audience to stand in front of her cameraman, and she said “hey just stand in front of this guy, and pretend he’s the best man you have ever met in your life. This is the woman that you want to marry,” she said to the camera man as the audience chuckled. She had me in her spell, and I immediately allowed my mind to hear “hey, just stand in front of this woman, and pretend she’s the best woman you have ever met in your life.”

This is how I perceived her to say it, even though this was a woman talking to another woman about a relationship with a man, I turned it into my experiences with former loves, and one in particular.

What are the things that are causing you to have issues with her? She rhymes off three things will this man be there for me will he trust me will he be faithful, does he love me for who I am?

Whatever that all was exactly, it doesn’t matter, Iyanla just had her step back. She asked more questions, and more “definitions” or “road blocks to acknowledging anything great could happen” cause this woman to step back, and back. She finally stepped back so far that she almost fell off the stage. Beautiful woman, really beauty attractive but just fucking strange and dark, I didn’t find her loving. In fact, I found her frightening as a person, let alone as a man.

If I could have a date with either of those two, it would be Iyanla in a heartbeat. Sexually it was the one she had on the stage, just this gorgeous specimen of a woman would say the typical moron. Well, that would confirm why we can label him as a self inflicted, cerebral gunshot to the cranium logicus. This “sexual specimen”, had gone through 129 dating profiles of men and accepted a second date with one. That has got to be a sign of some other things, and I can tell you, the physical side of attraction can be very easily accommodated by a mature self, but a mature self can never tolerate an ignorant or weak mind. It can love one, if that has been an act of God, if the universe has brought a challenge to another human, that love will be pure. But to love, be attracted to, or even want to aid an ignorant or weak minded person of their own making, is a skill set I find very difficult to hone.

Choice. All about choice, and where you want to be in your arena. All about being aware of what you are putting into the garden, and why you are getting out what you do. In today’s world, there is a lot of add water and mix, press button and heat intelligence, but it will never replace the benefits, and the nutrients that come from the natural, hand worked, pride taken, intent given, garden. Ever.

Some of my ramblings on what it’s like to be a plant in the garden, or some diversions about what it’s like to be the man in the arena- fighting for what it is that you believe in, and being aware of what it is you believe in.

Knowing that the seeds that you plant in your mind are going to be reaped, sown and toiled upon, in fertile soil and nutrition, all in an order, that has it grow. Having sunshine and water, food and minerals in the soil, all tools that provide stability for the plant to grow. This tree of life that sprouts, and will be what it is within us, not so different from the tools and the weapons used by the man in the arena, to provide for his own reward. A life.

The garden, the arena, they are both one and the same. Of a sort, I would say, in another way, I would defer to other points but for now, I can extend a final thought, if you will indulge me with but a fragment more of your attention.

The thoughts in the mind that made us who we are, and if those thoughts encompass a belief you can take all of the ingredients you need to make the perfect garden, or the right items needed to win in the arena, that you have all of the critical elements, you should be able to just make anything happen, you are wrong.

One could argue, that it would make sense for someone to take all of the water and sunshine that a seed may require to grow throughout its lifetime, and just give it to it all at once. With all this water and sunshine and food, would that seedling grow into a tree immediately?

The intelligent child knows this, and most certainly an aged adult would know that it would not, in fact we know that we would probably kill it, we would mar it with blood and sweat and tears.

It would not know victory; its defeat would be the very demise of its ability to live and to thrive, simply because you have tried to help.

No, you can’t do that, or you should not, as the most important part of living and growing and of thinking like a man does, being in this arena, is understanding a constant that none of us can really control, so much as we can mitigate, partitioning a proactive way. It is like following a tide, or a current, understanding where that tides is going to take you and letting it take you there.

Things happen for a reason and they always happen over a span of time. What those reasons are will not be influenced by time, so much as constrained by it, and your actions.

Time is the one most important critical foundation to building of that tower of Babel, on your own.

I have changed my tower. It is now an Abide Pirgo, my own homage to the White Tower of Thessaloniki. It is a tower fortified with my own blood, sweat and tears, binding an abide that no matter what it is that you do it the foundation of it, the establishment and engulfment of the very essence of this tower in of itself, is the hole that none can penetrate, and in the case of many, a hole they can not construct, and if they could, a whole they would likely not be able to get out of.

This is time.

The most precious critical aspect of how you are undertaking your life, whether you are taking advantage of time or you waste it.

It remains the most critical constant in all things living. Without it, there is no life.

Life is to be lived and enjoyed and shared. Find empathy for those men and women in the arena, working the productive and shared gardens, understanding them for who they are, and embracing that as a loving attitude.

An actual attitude, a “love” that is an extent of what you can do for yourself, and if you can do that, and are interested, you can do that right across the fields, for everyone, in the gulch.

I would, and do. In my way, on my way.

I am just simple man, made of cheese, doing.

*abide*

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Protected: Pure, helpless abide

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Buffalo Bacon. Roam

Where the Buffalo Roam

First Born, Steals IQ and Best of all Jeans
Bill F. Murray
Buffalo Cut, Brine, Canada (c) Abide Press Corps.

 

There was a recent study, conducted by the Faculty of Sociopathic Miscreants, and Lost Souls in order to facilitate a better understanding of why first born children, often are, and will remain, for their lives, brilliant, well smarter than their lesser fleshlings.

Because of their ability to get all the new jeans, and clothing, while everything else was never provided to their other siblings, who were often locked in cupboards for days at a time, trying to cry for help in vain, as no one paid attention due to the 70’s rug pulling hobby the rest of the village participated in with egg nog and heroine.

Editor Note: the timeline of this story has been depicted to reflect the relevant state of humanity, and the A.D. chronology of drug and social abuse according to the writing of the author. Neither the publisher, or the editorial team will accept any responsibility for the closure of any metropolitan areas as a result of protest, hardship or distress caused by the massive upheaval of fucks that will be given about yet another Springer Rivera revelation.

It all goes without saying, and has been proven over and over again, by many, and fully accredited former prostitutes, and now legal graduates from leading international academies that only offer these degrees, under certain circumstances and covers. Literally.

Digression, lies returned to onset of a typewriter carriage tendon, please remove the thought previously broadcast, and come back to the proof, that as a man and a woman grow older, they will certainly have produced more and more super-jock sperm and eggs to compete in the non-licensed activity of pro-creation.

We are not here to begin to analyze, or fully recognize one big bang over another creation of a magical carpet rider, a fat bastage, some kind of water and ark of fish to wine walker stuff. We are here to discuss the scientific and religious pundits confirmations of the natural evolution of pent up, ready to go sperm, and how they will be the first to want to leave the Brine Chunnel.

They will not be the first to the delicious croissant that sits on the other side however.

The may be at the front of the stage, and hoping for all hope, that they can be loved by the lizard skin, and the punk rock princess on stage, with the man’scaped and handled love table, right at the best window in the venue. Lights, and sounds, and uplifted pinky rings (*yes, again, delay the fucking “that can not happen” mentality, are you following me, for fucks sake, this is a blog written by a block of feta, man. Do you really think that a piece of feta is that stupid, that is does not KNOW that sperm and eggs have no pinky’s, let alone an awareness of gold, or what some kind of precious metal may be used to signify the relevance or importance of yourself, in a room filled with people, that you give no fuck about, but need to impress, by doing and buying the shit you need to, in order to give no fuck. It of course goes without saying, they are all in the same state of being…and wait…)

Holy fucking shit, I am actually defining this to who?

Why, we all know, the oldest is the smartest, and the best. They got it all. Those fucking bats, everywhere.

*abide*

*note not Gene’s or g gnomes were consulted for the above piece, please take that into consideration before your present your KISS Army card. Not valid for Detroit Rock City residents.

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albedo fingertips

if when were orange, and her smiles made the cold not sit with me
diffusion reflecting the tangerine skin, a mind covering the inside rind
reflecting only what is seen on the flash of the question asked, a glance away
a door shut, with a will that is not of the making from the harvest to be
fired blood orange, citrus sting of an appeal in the cornea of the mind
Fuch’s tears to be saved for an arid desert, a way that is far, a wind that is near
catchpoll servitude that was in debt, default in her eyes
her albedo fingertips tracing an understanding that beneath the skin is so much more
still, we shame in the white that sits, a ruse for the muse
cruel temptress, no choice but to be comforted in the exhileration
the simple orange, smiled to bid the cold away, she sat with me
an angel, and her albedo fingertips saved my soul.

*abide*

*circa 2001, fetascape:mediterrainian
**enhanced, edited 2011-03 d

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Fall, cull ‘er…

Pardon the way that I stare
There’s nothing else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak

*mlach*
(five letter word that was good tasting, now is brined abide)

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Measurement of the counted

Looking in the mirror, and finding what you think you see is not easy. It requires one to look truthfully at the reflection. Count the ways that are important to measure your own worth.

Yes, society tells us over and over again, that wealth is related to the assets that you possess, the “ferrari” that you drive, or the “mansion” you live in, the wine drank in the crystal glasses, and the sun basking on the minds wanderings as you enjoy the cool air over perfect pores.

The danger of driving the car, the hardship and anger that reside within the walls, drunken sweeping of worthless shards tossed into the trash as a consumed commodity provided a chalice to drink with for a moment. These are all things that are possible, actuals for most that walk laughing at the menial pheasant that flies beneath them.

Easy to stand on Mt. Amazing and cast your shadow on those that seem to not be “blessed” with all the good things that are right – a big home, and a luxury car, the right channels to watch when you kick the feet up. Yes, this is living, you say – and wave the arms across the expanse of the horizon.

Some can see that wave. They are hidden in the gulch near the mountain that you speak of, and they smile eating their meal of humility and observance in solace.

I do.

I do not need a paper framed on the wall to remind me of the years that have passed, my actions will speak louder than words.

One is not begging for smiles sought only when the eyes wander over a parchment stained with colour, unless he is busy freely painting the path he has chosen with fragments of the blessings that have been and now have become adjective sowings along the walkway.

All of these masterful declarations, and a butterfly net to catch them with.

The issue is complicated, and still so simple.

You will make time to be in the field and be alive. If it is important – you need not label it net utilization time if it is not the case.

Why do you need to “catch” the butterfly, and not enjoy it, and cherish that moment? No reflection and sharing, or the reflection you are sharing is one that will soon be different then the tasted wares of the liquid refractions?

Your life has become that important, on top that mountain. That life has become defined as the mountain, never to crumble to the sea. Never to see the world for what it is.

A giant stave, for music to be played.

You listen to your symphonies, and your black ties will bring you joyful recognition amongst the peers and peasants climbing the swinging ladder to Trump’s balls.

I will be hearing the harmony that comes from a small blade of orange grass, held between the minds eye and the soul.

When the wind cry’s out with a sigh after the meadow performs, the orange sings.

I promise I will always wave, hoping one day those that I knew on the mountains I have travelled, those that have walked on a way, will choose to follow the sound.

The sweet sound of orange grass.

The sweet sound of life.

Orange is the colour of life, and grass is any colour you want it to be.

As long as it is measured, as something that counts.

*abide*

By

The ultimate compliment

It will be the one that comes in the simplest form, and in fact is made that with the affirmation that you have enriched someones life.

You have left them better than you found them, and the heart of the matter this is that this simple present is not mine to have discovered, but rather the one I uncovered in my life and it was but a grain on the beach you all were part of.

It may sound like one fucked equation, but the integers, they were there with me, and the four years almost I have been around her, I have seen many that are part of the half the number of the Beast that is.

It was a small gift that did this today, and this is my gift to the ones that abiden even in the chastisicity that can be a board, you have been part of this.

So I thank you, and welcome you with open arms, only tenticles until you have been part of the ink.

My one real hope, is you all really give no shit about the haters, or the one’s in the gulch.

Do you not see all of them?

Them in the other gulch?

Wave, and stand tall, if you have made your life any better…do not be the cunt that eats two gyros for lunch and order water to flush out the garlic you just consumed in whatever the fuck you ate…your ass is that fat, and blaming the bag of honey roasted, sugar dripped peanuts you just ate is as futile as wondering how the fuck the corn in your life got chock full of corn…it just is, and you made it so.

The best part is that I appreciate the good, the bad, and the ugly cause the flickers on the screen are different unless all three parts appear.

So to you who have appeared, in all of you glory.

Welcome to the “whole”.

Not so bad if you are a fox in it, and you can find joy in being in it.

This is a taint grenade.
Pull the pin, grin.
Sin.

It is only such if you are a contrarian.

Me, I am the Greek boy who had dinner with his mom, to tell her how much she means to me on this, a glorious day in my year.

My saints day was the 21st, but then again, I have nothing to hide about failing to meet the qualifications of say’nt so.

It was Heleni that bore him, raised him and shaped him to what he is today.

It was really her that allowed me to become a man in this world, and for that, I am beyond pleased.

Thanks Joe, it was a great part of the day, a great part of the year. A great part of life. Yalc, blessings…ltb?

Just about how you look at it.

May our lives be richer for it all, but only if we are open to it.

I am.
That is why I have the smoking gun in my hand.

Look for the number of the beast halved, just add the fourth dimension because it be no digit, it be your dimension.

So walk it.

Smile with, fuck off with, kill…but enjoy it, cause that is what being human is all about…of course I would not know.

Afterall, I am just a piece of stinky cheese.

*abide*

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Attack, defence, beautiful.

“For every moment of triumph, for every instance of beauty, many souls must be trampled.”

Hunter S. Thompson