31 07 2017

I’m in contact with my kids finally after so many years and it has been great but it has just been online.  I did talk to one of my daughters on the phone, that was wonderful.  I feel so isolated, alone and I don’t really like anything about this world anymore except my relationships with my kids.

If I had a brother, son, dad who were in my position, I’d do anything to make him feel loved, safe, at home, comfortable.  But I have been through things that have humbled me and given me a different perspective I suppose than most people have.  Life should not be so complicated with drama, schedules, electronic devices and constant stimulus.  There should be time for calm, and peace and tranquility.  Society is bent on distracting us from the things that are sacred, Holy, uplifting and good in our lives.  Like having the time to read a book that has value for our lives.  We don’t sit in silence to read, we listen to the book spoken while we drive and eat fast food.

And the thing that is wrecking American social standards is the electronic hand held device of choice.  People are isolated behind their screens and headphones.  It’s not natural.  Technology has encumbered our social progress.  Social networking is not real socialization at all.  It is isolation, fantasy and showing off.  The art of writing a letter and sending it through the mail and having it saved by the recipient is lost on email and texting.

I guess I’m done with my rant for the moment.  I miss my kids so bad it hurts.  I just want to be face to face with them, to see their smiles and look in their eyes and hear them speak and laugh with each other.  I feel so alone.  I need my kids in my life.  I wish somebody would rescue me from this.  All I can do is wait, be patient and have faith.  I guess tomorrow will be a better day.  My heart aches for the love of my children.  They are all that matters to me.


Corruption of the language

10 07 2017

“Political chaos is connected with the decay of language.”
   -George Orwell

This is an interesting article on how the decay of our language leads to political chaos.


Omni 1:17

17 And at the time that Mosiah discovered them, they had become exceedingly numerous. Nevertheless, they had had many wars and serious contentions, and had fallen by the sword from time to time; and their alanguage had become corrupted; and they had brought no brecords with them; and they denied the being of their Creator; and Mosiah, nor the people of Mosiah, could understand them.

If we are without true, ancient records from the past, our language becomes corrupt.

The Pen Is Blue

30 06 2017

Source: The Pen Is Blue

The Pen Is Blue

30 06 2017

the pen is blue.


the penis blue?

are you trying to tell me you have a blue penis?

no I am telling you that the penis blue.

do you want me to call a doctor and tell him that you have a blue penis?

no do not call the doctor, my penis is not blue.

then why do you keep saying the pen is blue if it is not?

what color is your penis?

what does that have to do with anything?

I’m not sure but you’re the one who brought it up.

I did not.  I was talking about the color of my pen.

which pen?

that pen.

oh, that pen is blue.

there you go talking about blue penis again.

Lay off the Donald, let him be president.

8 06 2017

Trump’s not going to be impeached. He didn’t do anything impeachable. It’s all media lies. Watch Comey’s testimony, the real thing, not CNN’s version. It’s truly pathetic and it is fake news. Watch the hearings for yourself. I know, by what I’ve read here, that most people do not watch the hearings, but merely get the news from other sources which are opinions and spun up lies to bring down the president.

I watched and listened to the entire hearing. There is no collusion with Russia, nobody has any evidence, period. And Trump did not tell Comey to stop the investigation into Flynn. He said he ‘hoped’ the cloud would be lifted. And that is far different than giving a command or order, and Comey testified that he believed Trump was telling him what to do, but he said that to ‘hope’ is not the same as giving an order.

Conversation with Tom Cruz and John Travolta

20 07 2016

Hey John Travolta, how’s it goin’?

I don’t know Tam Cruz. It seems like everyone tinks wer’re weirdo alien control freaks who have buttsex wit each udda.

WTF is up wit dat?

Well, we do, right? Like, right?

Don’t go getting all Vinnie Barbarino on me John Travolta or I’ll have to take you to pleasuretown

See Tam, dat’s what I’m takin about. Don’t act like such a fag, man.

You’re the one who made Urban Cowboy and Saturday Night Fever.

Yea but I didn’t go makin no Eyes Wide Shut. You tink dat fooled anyone?

Yea, we slipped that one past America. Put it on screen and it has to be made up.

Unfortunately Tam, the Americans caught on and now think we’re gay.

Just don’t come out of the closet and it will be cool.

Yea, let’s pretend nobody knows you and me play cabana boy bongo every Tuesday afta-noon.

This conversation will self destruct

It’s a good ting you were in Mission Impassible Tam Cruz.

I know, right?

Hey, Tam Cruz?

What’s up John Travolta? Is it Tuesday already?

Everyone knows we’re weirdos, and I’m like totally freakin’ out man.

Is it Tuesday yet?

Tam, cut it out man. People even know I’m bald.

You got wigs.

Shut up half pint. I’m skippin’ Tuesday and makin’ Saturday Night Fever III, Da Revenge of Tony Manero’s Hair.

Yea, good luck without a screenplay.

I gaat one.

Yea, right.

Hold on, be right back Tam Cruz.

In your dreams.

Is it Tuesday yet?

It’s always Tuesday over here Tony Manero.

Tam, you’re kinda givin’ me da creeps.

Oh, sorry. I’m gonna go watch myself in MI II and eat ice cream while you make Saturday Night Fever III.

I neva sed dat.




Art and Music

12 04 2016


Art and Music are consumers of space.

There is a time and a place for all things, turn, turm turn.

One eternal round for God to renew and become new again and clean and glorified by the polishing grace of the glory born of His chosen races while the pace makes haste at distances as they leave a trace of their moments in time that rhyme in kind without knowing or blowing upon the winds under a wing to give flight in the night to live dreams and streams of a thread in the comfort of bed after nodding and trodding upon one another without reason through the seasons to uplift and give gifts to share and to bear one another‘s burdens without casting aspersion to encumber one’s ride so they can glide side by side on this earth with mirth to be taught and to teach to uplift through the mist we will rise with surprise to discover and be wise to share and not despair the seasons beyond reason to encumber or trepidate another‘s journey without earning or deserving the right to take flight in the night after not having enough rest to be blessed to have fun and come undone like the Son we are from we remember in December but throw away while we play and we make sure to be grateful for all that we have and been given so that living does not suck but is chill to be given grace from the most excellent choice from our brother whose mother was Mary and might have had a brother named Larry, but there are things we do not know so stones we throw at those who suppose to understand all they’ve been given from the One who has risen and has given us just enough to satisfy our curiosity but pacify those who love to fuel the animosity toward another brother then take cover the the name of fame to get gain.

And when it rains they all claim to have changed and be born again to profess to confess in the name of He who knows best to abide without pride for whom the prophets have prophesied would return as we earn our own place in His heart not by condemning sinners but for loving your brothers and being winners in this race where there is grace given by the Man who loves all and as we learn from Paul that we are all brothers from another mother that must give love to one another without pride to abide in a man‘s heart taking place in a space where there is no grace, only justice to judge us and make waste from our guilt but our Savior who’s name He was given in a manger called Jesus or Jehovah to the Jew to take over in the end to mend and reconcile so that Israel can send us on over to the promised land which will be grand to stand upon and with a throng.

Hallelueah, Hallelueah, Hallelueah, we are here.

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