Wynne's meets Smoking Man

Merry Christmas Dogs.

Having a bit of fun in my personal flyer

New Dog

Welcome to the Family....

The Adventure begins,, 4

Fourth or Fifth trip to the Desert this year in a quest to find ET. Below is area 69. 

. 

Ufo

Astronaut Gordon Cooper Talks About UFOs: http://youtu.be/dvPR8T1o3Dc

RIP Mom

Two weeks ago when I gave you the news about Mark. You like all of us were sad. 

You then  asked to see, Ryan, I flew him in. 

You said good bye to your grand kids and slipped. 

On cue as always, you put others in front of you. You hung on for 14 days while we waited for paper work to clear  to bring mark home. 

Today after we dropped flowers on Marks Casket and lowered it we came to see you after the funeral. 

I held your hand, your eyes where open, I moved a bit to the right your eyes followed, then a bit to the left, again they followed.

Although you could not move, you saw me in my suit, tears ran down the sides of your face. Ten more breaths and you are gone.

Thank you for waiting for us to deal with Mark.

You had a long life, suffering in the end.

You were a great mom.

You always loved Halloween, loved giving the kids big bags of chips and candy. You were so generous. 

Ironic, you pick this day to move on to the next level. 

I love you. I will take care of dad, don't worry. But you know that. 

Mark always loved your meat balls. He's going to get fat now that the two of you are  up in heaven. 

RIP

The world lost a beautiful child on Saturday. Just 28 years old: He was doing what he always does on weekends. Climbing to the tops of mountains in Swiss Alps.

Got the call Sunday afternoon. We've gone through cases and cases of kleenex.

His mom and dad, text book perfect.  His up brining magnificent, he excelled at school, graudaured with honors, recently promoted working and playing in Zurich.
He had more friends than there are mosquitoes at Brighton Speedway on a July humid night.

A slip and fall 150m drop he's gone.

His parents are crushed, devastated squared. His brother a walking zombie. The entire family will never recover from this.. It's Imposable.

This is truly one of the sadest weeks of our families life...

Good bye perfect Nephew.

Dyslexic Vapour Man

Just don't have the same feel. I'm sticking with Dyslexic  Smoking Man

I'm going to miss not  taking down a cig 50% on the first morning drag. Ahh

NWO IN TROUBLE.

 

A letter sent by a prominent Dutch Professor to Russian president Vladimir Putin has attracted much media attention in Europe.  The letter was written by Professor Cees Hamelink and signed by dozens of Dutch intellectuals and professors. Below is the letter in its entirety.

 

Dear Mr. President Putin,

Please accept our apologies on behalf of a great many people here in the Netherlands for our Government and our Media. The facts concerning MH17 are twisted to defame you and your country.

We are powerless onlookers, as we witness how the Western Nations, led by the United States, accuse Russia of crimes they commit themselves more than anybody else. We reject the double standards that are used for Russia and the West. In our societies, sufficient evidence is required for a conviction. The way you and your Nation are convicted for 'crimes' without evidence, is ruthless and despicable.

You have saved us from a conflict in Syria that could have escalated into a World War. The mass killing of innocent Syrian civilians through gassing by ‘Al-­‐Qaeda’ terrorists, trained and armed by the US and paid for by Saudi Arabia, was blamed on Assad. In doing so, the West hoped public opinion would turn against Assad, paving the way for an attack on Syria.

Not long after this, Western forces have built up, trained and armed an ‘opposition’ in the Ukraine, to prepare a coup against the legitimate Government in Kiev. The putschists taking over were quickly recognized by Western Governments. They were provided with loans from our tax money to prop their new Government up.

The people of the Crimea did not agree with this and showed this with peaceful demonstrations. Anonymous snipers and violence by Ukrainian troops turned these demonstrations into demands for independence from Kiev. Whether you support these separatist movements is immaterial, considering the blatant Imperialism of the West.

Russia is wrongly accused, without evidence or investigation, of delivering the weapons systems that allegedly brought down MH17. For this reason Western Governments claim they have a right to economically pressure Russia.

We, awake citizens of the West, who see the lies and machinations of our Governments, wish to offer you our apologies for what is done in our name.
It’s unfortunately true, that our media have lost all independence and are just mouthpieces for the Powers that Be. Because of this, Western people tend to have a warped view of reality and are unable to hold their politicians to account.

Our hopes are focused on your wisdom. We want Peace. We see that Western Governments do not serve the people but are working towards a New World Order. The destruction of sovereign nations and the killing of millions of innocent people is, seemingly, a price worth paying for them, to achieve this goal.

We, the people of the Netherlands, want Peace and Justice, also for and with Russia.
We hope to make clear that the Dutch Government speaks for itself only. We pray our efforts will help to diffuse the rising tensions between our Nations.

Sincerely,

Professor Cees Hamelink 

Reflections

MH17 cockpit part

Clearly shows 30mm bullet holes... Some In, some out.

Brought down by two fighter Jets bullets on either side.

Bit of Chapter 2

The Pool

Trying to find a seat at the Flamingo pool is next to imposable on the weekends. I give up trying. I lay my towel on the concrete pool deck and slip into the water.

I mark my territory by spreading the towel lengthwise on the pool deck. This gives me about three feet of real estate. I need to stay vigilant and defend my turf,  these drunken bastards can get very aggressive after the first bucket of beer.

The place is filling up fast and it’s not even noon, the pool side DJ is spinning some tunes and Go-Go dancers mount the mini stages located in several spots in the middle of the pool.

Almost every young person here gets stoned or hammered, buckets of beer for 30 bucks, men, woman half naked and smashed out of their minds. A good many are looking for a bit of side fun. That perfect sleazy Vegas story to share, published as it happens live on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube, or buried deep in ones memory, never to surface again. The last thing you want to do here is read some days stupid book.

The waitress brings me my first bucket of Coors light, an ashtray, and five packs of salt. I tell her to charge it to my room, and to call Ron to find out where it is, she resisted at first till I slipped her a twenty with Ron’s business card that reads, Executive Casino Host..

I spot Ashman, his head, flipping from side to side, he might have started out looking for me, but he's now his eyes are on anything in a two piece. He's not even descret, laser focused eyes on female crotches.

He's always been a bit of a pervert, back home the ladies on Nectonite can read men's minds, he never gets action due to his depravity. He's here surrounded by thong bikinis that have no idea what the deviant is thinking.

“Ashman, ASHMAN! I’m here, come here man.”

“Smokey, will you look at this place, look at those Go-Go girls Go. Look at all the drunk chics in the pool, this is going to be easy pickings.” he said as he joins me in the pool.

I’m into my first salt pack, discreetly slipped into my beer.

"Ahhhh"

I spark up a smoke to compliment this rush. I take a Marlboro down fifty percent on my first drag.

Just As I reach over to ash it, two slightly wet and cool balls of softness push against my shoulder blades. My utopia is interrupted with salt induced terror, salt is Alien Heroin, is this a zombie grandmother looking for a boost out of the pool?, or a huge fat gay man looking for a Vegas story to share at a bath house.

I turn, to my delight a gorgeous brunet with fake eyelashes, running mascara, specs of glitter on perfect cheak bones. She has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a human. She’s two fisting a couple beers, and is struggling to put a sentence together.

“Hi handsome, do you all happen to have an extra cigarette.” She said.

I didn't say a word, I shoved a Marlboro into her mouth and reached back for my lighter, Ashman nearly knocks me over in his rush to light it for her. All of a sudden this bastard has become considerate, developed manners, after years of duchbagary.

“My name is Claire, I’m from little old Texas, where are you from Handsome?” she said to me.

With the salt  kicking in hard, void of inhibitions. For reasons unknown, I decide to break mission code and tell the truth. I'm unable to take my eyes off those Spectaculos, perfectly round and natural. They are hanging by a tiny thread; most males would be having depraved thoughts on what they were going to do with those twins. But  I’m a scientist first, I try and calculate how much more load those tiny strings could hold. “I’m from Nectonite.” I said

“You’re not shy are you, I'm up here handsome, is that town in Cacanada” She slurs with a warm inviting smile.

"It's a planet one billion light years away, it has a high concentration of nicotine in the atmosphere, we can't live without it, that's why I'm chain smoking all the time." I said.

"Ha, das the best pick up line I've ever heard, you don't look wike an Alien." the drunken, slightly cross eyed big breasted beauty said.

Holly shit, she's taking like daffy duck. She presses hard against my body, her face less than two inches away from mine. The aroma of weed, whisky and tobacco is overbearing.

I say to her. "We are just like humans, except our IQ is ten to twenty times higher, we have slightly bigger heads, and our package, well it's impressively larger. We are here to eradicate your entire species."

“Why would you do that?” She said.

“We created humanity on our planet because we became prosperous and lazy, robots couldn’t do all the work. Rich and powerful men wanted mistress that could not read their minds. Huge capital was invested. Our best scientist spliced up some sheep and dog DNA with ours and created a dumber version of ourselves that would obey, follow orders and serve.”

“Huh.” She muttered.

We thought we had the perfect slaves, till some of you’re ancestors started rebelling, becoming violent, merciless killers. Some speculate a few mutated.  A decision was made to kill your ancestors but was overruled by the newly elected bleeding heart Liberal counsel. So Two hundred thousand years ago we loaded them all on a space ship, and sent them to earth.

“Wow, you’re making this up, aren’t you?” She said smiling.

“I’m not.  It’s the truth. Do you know the first thing you savages did when you landed ? 

“No” she said.

You killed off all the Neanderthals. Now you’re on the verge of developing intergalactic space travel technology, while you all kill each other all around the globe, we can’t allow this cancer to spread to the universe.”  I said.

After about ten changes in her facial expression and ten seconds of trying to process what I just said, she loses focus. She is zeroing in for a French kiss.

I since high levels of oestrogen, elevated testosterone, and a bad case of herpes. I put my force field on.

After several attempts, and about 5 clangs of her tong stud smashing my force field shell, she pulls back and slurs, "What The Fuck."

"Shit, what the hell are you doing?" I said.

She says. "Trying to welcome you to earth."

That's , me the short one next to a green Grey. 

Might be my last post, beauty Storm

An Apprentice Smoking Man

In training, a Smoking Man wannabe... A Night at Seneca.

Boom MH17

Who’s Responsible for Shooting Down Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17?

by Walter C. Uhler / July 19th, 2014

On 17 July 2014 Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 departed from Amsterdam with approximately 300 passengers and was headed toward Kuala Lumpur before it was blasted out of the sky in Ukrainian air space. Nobody survived.

Within hours of the disaster, Petro Poroshenko’s coup regime in Kiev boldly asserted that the plane had been shot down — either by the separatists in eastern Ukraine or by Russia.

The separatists quickly denied having any role in the disaster, claiming that their weapons were capable only of reaching targets flying below 4,000 feet – which was well below the 33,000 feet at which Flight 17 was flying. The Russians dismissed Kiev’s allegations as “stupidity.”

The Obama administration remained wisely agnostic about Kiev’s assertions until later in the afternoon, when it concluded that the Malaysian airline was, indeed, shot down. As reported in the Kiev Post, “a senior U.S. official told CNN’s Barbara Starr… [that] one radar system saw a surface-to-air missile system turn on and track an aircraft right before the plane went down on July 17… A second system saw a heat signature at the time the airliner was hit… The United States is analyzing the trajectory of the missile to try to learn where the attack came from.” On Friday, the Obama administration would claim that a surface to air missile was fired at the airliner from somewhere in Ukrainian territory occupied by the separatists. The U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Samantha Power, asserted: “We cannot rule out Russian technical assistance.”

Unfortunately, America’s mainstream news media ran far ahead of the facts. Within hours of the catastrophe, ABC and CNN were not only emphasizing the allegations made by Ukraine, they also stopped discussing the possibility that the plane might have been shot down by Ukraine. People who should have known better (clowns like Jim Sciutto at both networks) would claim, on the one hand, that the separatists were known to have captured antiaircraft missiles from Ukraine’s inventory and yet, on the other hand, speculate about how bad it would be for President Vladimir Putin and Russia, were the world to discover that Russia had supplied the missile that shot down the airliner. Later in the evening, MSNBC’s Chris Matthews – who almost always seems to be in over his head – said something similar.

Like the separatists and Russia, Ukraine had no obvious motive for downing Flight MH17. But, like Russia and, perhaps, like the separatists, it certainly had the capability. Yet, ABC and CNN inexplicably dropped Ukraine from the list of suspects.

But, if anti-Russia and anti-separatist bias began to permeate the discussions on ABC and CNN, pro-Russia bias became equally apparent on RT. Personally, I found it a bit much to see RT suggest that Ukraine probably fired the missile, thinking that it was about to bring down President Putin’s plane, which had colors and markings similar to MH17, as well as a similar flight path.

Yet, RT correctly reported that it was Vladimir Putin, who first informed Barack Obama about the crash. It also reported statements made by Russia’s Defense Ministry. According to the Defense Ministry, the Malaysian Airliner was flying outside the air defense capabilities of Russia. According to the Defense Ministry, Russian air defense systems were not deployed on Thursday near the Ukrainian border and no Russian air-force planes were flying over the area.

Significantly, the Defense Ministry asserted that 27 “Buk M1” launchers are deployed by the Ukrainian forces in the Donetsk region, with the capabilities to shoot down targets at an altitude of more than 30km. The Russian Ministry also said that Ukrainian fighter jets are constantly patrolling the skies over Donetsk.

Kiev’s statements that Ukraine’s forces did not fire over its airspace raise serious doubts, because, “In such a short time with fierce fighting in the area it is impossible to come to such an unequivocal conclusion. Such responsible statements that involve serious legal consequences, require a comprehensive investigation.”

Even more significantly, on July 18 RT reported that Russia’s Defense Ministry knew about a Kupol radar deployed as part of Ukrainian Buk anti-aircraft battery in the village of Styla, outside of Donetsk. Thus the Buk battery was operational on the day that Flight MH17 was shot down.

On July 17 RT reported that “The self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic, which controls the area around the crash site, says that it will pass the flight recorders of the downed plane to Russian authorities. Yet, ABC reported on July 18th that “the location of the black boxes from the downed Malaysia Airlines plane in Ukraine has still not been confirmed.”

During the course of the day on July 17 the claims and counter-claims went on without end. The AP quoted Igor Sutyagin, a research fellow in Russian studies at the Royal United Services Institute, who said both Ukrainian and Russian forces have SA-17 missile systems – also known as Buk ground-to-air launcher systems. Mr. Sutyagin said “Russia had supplied separatist rebels with military hardware, but he had seen no evidence ‘of the transfer of that type of system from Russia.’”

According to a report by RT retired Brig. Gen. Kevin Ryan, the director of the Defense and Intelligence Project at the Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs thought it “unlikely that the self-defense forces could’ve used Buk surface-to-air missile systems to down the Malaysian plane.” He told CNN, “It takes a lot of training and a lot of coordination to fire one of these and hit something. This is not the kind of weapon a couple of guys are going to pull out of a garage and fire.”

“According to Ryan, if the plane was really taken down then it was done by a professional military force.”

According to Reuters, the eastern Ukraine separatist leader Alexander Borodai said the airliner was shot down by Ukrainian government forces. But, Kiev denied involvement. Meanwhile Nataliya Gumenyuk, a founder of the Ukrainian Hromadske.TV, implied that Ukraine could not have shot MH17 down because Kiev has no need for anti-aircraft missiles – because the separatists do not have an air force.1 Her assertions were unintentionally demolished by journalist Jonathan Landay, who noted that the separatists had captured “a Ukrainian anti-air military installation” in the region just three weeks ago.1

Moreover, “On June 29, the official news agency RIA Novosti quoted a separatist from the self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic saying that pro-Russia militants had ‘assumed control of A-1402 military base,’ equipped with ‘Buk mobile surface-to-air missile systems.’”

Notwithstanding these claims and counter-claims, by the end of the day it seemed probable that the separatists fired a Buk at MH17, thinking that it was a Ukrainian military transport plane. Why probable?

Because: (1) The U.S. appears to have established that Flight MH17 was shot down. (2) The Ukrainian government has released intercepted communications between the separatists and Russian intelligence agents that reveals how shocked and surprised the separatists were, upon learning that the plane carried civilians.

(3) Igor Strelkov initially boasted about shooting down a plane.

“We did warn you — do not fly in our sky,” he wrote.

Thinking it was a Ukrainian transport plane, Strelkov added that “a plane has just been downed somewhere around Torez, it lays there behind the ‘Progress’ mine,” referring to the mining town of some 80,000 people.

“And here is the video proving another ‘bird’ falling down,” he continued. “The bird went down behind a slagheap, not in a residential district. So no peaceful people were injured,” But, he then deleted the post after he realized that a commercial airliner had been shot down. (Christopher Miller, Mashable, July 17, 2014)

(4) According to the BBC “A tweet (in Russian) from a key Twitter account used by pro-Russian separatists, in which they claim to have captured a Buk surface-to-air missile system, has now been deleted.”

Thus, although the early evidence indicated that separatists in eastern Ukraine fired the Buk missile that destroyed MH17, that evidence also suggested that the separatists thought they had fired at a Ukrainian transport plane. More significantly, the early evidence suggested that the separatists acquired its Buk missile from Ukraine’s own arsenals. Thus, Russia could not be accused of supplying such a weapon. (Moreover, ABC News reported on July 18th that “U.S. officials said earlier today that intelligence showed nothing that definitively links Russia to the training of those who launched the missile on Thursday.”)

Perhaps the most notable event on July 18th was President Obama’s press conference, which was largely devoted to the shooting down of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17. Sensibly, Mr. Obama called for an immediate cease fire, in order to facilitate an investigation of the causes of the catastrophe.

But he quickly demonstrated the unwarranted anti-Russia bias of his administration when he incorrectly claimed: “For months we’ve supported a pathway to peace, and the Ukrainian government has reached out to all Ukrainians, put forward a peace plan and lived up to a cease-fire, despite repeated violations by the separatists, violations that took the lives of Ukrainian soldiers and personnel.” Wrong! Anyone who has followed the conflict in eastern Ukraine knows that the Ukrainian forces violated the ceasefire with the same impunity as that shown by the separatists.

Moreover, there is reason to believe that the government led by President Poroshenko does not have complete control over all the forces fighting against the separatists. For President Obama to fail to make these obvious points suggests either ignorance or bad faith.

But he was at his hypocritical worst when he asserted that “the United States is going to continue to lead efforts within the world community to de-escalate the situation, to stand up for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Ukraine and to support the people of Ukraine as they courageously work to strengthen their democracy and make their own decisions about how they should move forward.” Why? Because, as everybody knows, representatives of the U.S. Government, like the obnoxious Victoria Nuland and the limelight hog John McCain, violated the sovereignty of Ukraine when they openly encouraged protesters in their clash with the democratically elected government led by President Viktor Yanukovych. They possessed neither shame nor class.

And, as for Ukrainians making their “own decisions about how they should move forward,” neither the Americans nor the protesters in Kiev gave one thought to the desires of the Ukrainians living in Crimea or eastern Ukraine when they imposed their anti-Russia coup and anti-Russia policies on them. Now the separatists, with Russia’s assistance, are giving Kiev and Washington a dose of their own medicine. It’s called “blowback.” And it should continue until Kiev adequately recognizes the legitimate interests of the people in eastern Ukraine.

Unsurprisingly, America’s mainstream news media failed to notice the gross hypocrisy embedded in President Obama’s paeans to Ukraine’s attempts at self-determination and oligarchical democracy. The media also fell in line with the administration’s anti-separatist, anti-Russia point of view regarding the catastrophic downing of Flight TM17. Thus, they had nothing to say when evidence emerged on July 18th which indicated that the shooting down of Flight TM17 was a “false flag” operation.

Numerous pieces of evidence now suggest that Ukraine shot down Flight TM17. None are bullet-proof or definitive. But, there is evidence to suggest that at least one of the videos — supposedly showing separatists acknowledging their role in downing the aircraft – was actually created the day BEFORE the attack took place. That’s right, a video uploaded by the Ukrainian government on 2014-07-18 00:09:00 (for delivery to the world’s news media) was actually created on 2014-07-16 19:10:24. I’m told that creation dates don’t lie, so if the document is authentic – a big if – then the Ukrainian government created it in anticipation of shooting down an aircraft and blaming the separatists.

Then there is the matter of the Spanish air controller, who was working in Ukraine at the time of the shoot down. According to the author of the website, The Vineyard of the Saker, “The air traffic controller suggested in a private evaluation and basing it on military sources in Kiev, that the Ukrainian military was behind this shoot down. Radar records were immediately confiscated after it became clear a passenger jet was shot down.”

(Complementing this information is a report from the BBC claiming that “Ukraine’s SBU security service has confiscated recordings of conversations between Ukrainian air traffic control officers and the crew of the doomed airliner, a source in Kiev has told Interfax news agency.”)

These two allegations, as well as others, have been addressed by Paul J. Watson: Additional allegations can be found at The Vineyard of the Saker’s post titled: “Evidence Continues to Emerge #MH17 Is a False Flag Operation.” What would be Kiev’s motive for a false flag shoot-down? Serious military defeats recently inflicted by the separatists. (I am unable to agree or disagree with any of these allegations.)

Finally, when looking to assess blame for the shooting down of Flight MH17, President Putin was correct when he claimed: “Certainly the state over whose territory this happened bears responsibility for this terrible tragedy. This tragedy would not have happened if there was peace in this land.”

However, had he given more thought to his statements, Mr. Putin might have realized that they also condemn his and Russia’s contribution to the absence of peace in Ukraine. For it’s an open secret that Russia is providing men and weapons to support the separatists who continue to fight Kiev’s coup regime forces.

But blame for the shooting down of Flight MH17 must also extend back to Victoria Nuland and the neocons who supported the regime change that precipitated the civil war that eventually cost some 300 innocent airline passengers their lives. That is something none of us should forget as we attempt to decide who to blame for the attention-grabbing and heartbreaking catastrophe of the moment.

So close, but no deal

Almost was the proud owner of the nugget casino in Searchlight Nevada.

O well......

The Retarded Pug

The Schooled

Google Dennis Rancourt.

In the history of humanity puberty was the passage to adulthood and responsibility of self yet you accept prolonged subservience. You evsell your future life to bankers for the privilege of slavery and sustained stupidity.

You choose to be a house slave rather than risk freedom.

You are pathetic to watch. Racing from assignment to assignment, from essay to essay, from test to test, from lab to lab; racing to regurgitate on demand, to satisfy a master, to be graded for compliance, to be moulded into an obedient servant without ever having the time to think or understand.

You are even more pathetic when you justify your subservience with the master’s catch phrases: this is how we learn from true experts, basic knowledge first then thinking and application, practice leads to skill… as though human development, perception and learning were like tying a shoe or any other technical skill.

You are most pathetic when you devise a world view to justify your own negation and indoctrination; when you bring the master within yourself in this way. You are most sad, most deeply wounded and most distanced from yourself when your oppressor resides in you.

You were broken and institutionalized as a mostly defenceless child but now you are an adult and it is time for you to stand up – or take the path of life-long crawling.

You are now responsible for you.

Are you going to let these moronic ass kissers we call professors – who have jumped through ALL the hoops – impress you with their canned and well delivered spiels (or if not well delivered at least imposed by their illegitimate authority)?

The ones that deliver badly and grade unfairly only better illustrate the madness of it all. But you make a pact with every one of them to obey in exchange for grades and credits. And those that fool you with their smiles from privilege and their empathy entice you to imitate rather than rebel.

Just like with slave-driver tactics, there is a prof for your every student vulnerability. The hard ass offers superiority of the top-level exploiter with a promise of club entry, or the comforting illusion that you are needed for good in the crushing machine. The radical prof denies his/her role in managing the killing machine and offers enticing radical (to the root) analysis severed from all practice beyond writing, communicating, and more analysis – as the ultimate neutralizing stratagem for potential agents (students) who might not otherwise distinguish between inquiry and theorizing as acceptable and social reform as unacceptable.

You confuse your trainer, the master’s tool, for a mentor or a parent. Wake up. As an adult, no one is the boss of you. Your first responsibility is to yourself, to your own dignity. Only you can discover who you are and your rightful place. These scams are soul poison and make you into an oppressor that is oppressed.

Yes you are pathetic, with all your escapes and justifications. And just as pathetic with your drive to dominate and climb the ladder by stepping on heads. It will be a deservedly empty life until you stand straight up.

You deserve to be treated like a number, to be used and manipulated, because you take it. Why would the master respect you? Is reward for obedience respect? Are simulated pleasantness and an offer to take a place on your knees respect?

You have no say in what, how much, when, or where. You simply are told and only ask that the directions be more detailed: When is it due? Can it be double spaced? Can I have an example? And you ask for regurgitation aids: Can you give us copies of your Power Point slides before class…? Good fucking Jesus. You are pathetic.

Neither does your cynicism shield you. Obedience against your nature is harmful obedience no matter how you cast it. It dehumanizes you like it would denaturalize any caged animal.

You can free yourself.

You can fight back to defend yourself, to define yourself.

You must discover personal authentic rebellion and express it with your voice and your body.

Do not repress your emotions. Without anger and hate of your oppressor there is no passion or love. Feel what you feel and use it to drive your liberation.

Each act of rebellion is a step towards self-worth and freedom. Each act of rebellion informs you about you and about the world like nothing else can.

This is how to connect with comrades. You can only connect if you are yourself and know yourself. This is how to discover your place, a real place. It’s also the only known way to create justice.

You don’t need a better model or argument. Just reject pacification and co-optation. Take your place and your influence – in the classroom to start! – And wherever you are, always. Join your comrades and hold together with those who see the chains. The others are acting out the internalized master and only need to be stirred or challenged. Don’t let them mob you. Stand your ground.

You will find the way if you keep true and never lie down or kneel. Each time you comply you will feel the hurt again and this will remind you to step back into the battle for you.

Get out of the trap and up the ante for your life. It will be worth every moment.

Cowardice, stupidity and depravity are the other option.

It is that simple. You are always in charge of you.

Chasing ET

Watching TV

Got the ear buds on, watching TV.

I'm in the zone, trying to calculator how many dots are flashing.

Me and my new buddy

The beginning

You dogs what to know why I'm so screwed up?

My first memory of life I was 5 years old, my mom took me to a convent for day care, I was kicking and screaming, "I don't want to go."  10 minutes ago I was racing hot wheel cars down an orange track making car sounds, now I'm being taken by the hand through a small hallway of horror.

I hear a kid screaming in terror, as we turn the corner a tiny black girl,  no older then me was on the lap of a num, her skirt was pulled down and was being spanked, spanked hard by a gigantic fat nun, she was enjoying it, a demented grin, biting her toung saliva driping. 

I have never seen a black person up that point in my life and thought what the hell did they do to that poor kid. Shes been tard and they're going to feather her just like in the bugs bunny cartoon. Fear and terror griped me to the point were I stopped breathing for who knows how long. The nun holding my hand was just smiling oblivous to the horror I was witnessing of this poor kid, right there and then I knew I was going to make a run for it first chance I had.

I'm lead into a room with about 20 other kids, all of them stone faced scared. I check my pocket for my Batman Hot Wheel Car, Nothing bad can happen to me so long as it's with me. For the next 1/2 hour I studied the room and didn’t see any doors other than the door we came in.

Between freedom and here, a mamouth monster. The door opens and the monster comes into the room, no little girl with her, they've killed her and put her in the garbage I concluded, I got to get out of here.

The killer starts talking to the other kids, pointing and shaking her finger as to warn the other little people, no way I'm making eye contact. It's a question and answer session, I'm not paying attention, only thing I'm thinking about is my escape.

"Smokey, what do you like to do" she said. I just stared at my brand new running shoes, PF Flyers, the commercials on TV showed that you can fly with them,  making sure my laces were tight cause me and the batman car are about to hit the runway. "Smokey are you ok, what do you like to do, tell the class, your mommy says you play guitar," the monster said. I said nothing, I can feel tears start to run down my face.

 "Smokey can you play a guitar" the evil bitch put me on the spot. "Yesth I can" I confidently said in a whisper. "What song do you like play Smokey" she said. I said "Michael wode the boat ashore." "Speak up Smokey the class can't hear you" said spankzilla starting to squize my soulder hard.

I felt the world closing in on me, terrified I stand up and shout as I make a run for it. "Michael wode the boat asshole" I'm past the door, bolting down the hall I feel my PF Flyers start to gain altitude, at about one mile per hour I hit V1, my little legs pumping at full steam, only way you could see them is if someone was filming in slow motion. I'm out side heading for the four fence. I leap up but my right toe gets stuck in the fence with my hand on the top bar, I wriggle it free. One more leg up and I'm out of this nightmare.

Damn it, there is giant hand wrapped around my entire waist. I turn my head...It's the monster. She has a Jack Nicholson crazy face grin. She gripped the back of my shirt and carried me back into the class, I was suspend horizontal, for a moment I thought I was superman flying, all I needed was a cape and this nun would be history. I'm by the chair where she beat and murdered that girl, I'm next, I mentally prepare for death but she keeps walking.

I'm placed back in my chair. She makes an announcement to the class that I went out to find my guitar but my mother already left, so we will give Smokey a guitar and he will play for us. The class starts cheering......

I had one god damn lesson my entire life, oh no everyone will laugh at me. They hand me a guitar. At this point I'm thinking I have a wepon and I was going to use it if any of the phycos came near me. I start to play and scream out the song. "Micheal wode the boat ashore hallelujah" Random notes on the guitar but crowd goes wild, clapping, dancing and singing along. The nuns screwing up there faces at awful sounds coming from the old guitar which was missing a few strings.

Right there and then I knew being good at something didn't matter much, looking like you are good is all that mattered.

The journey begins.....

No Hockey Stick Toronto

This Chart generated from Teranet price index, shows index of  actual same home sales. www.housepriceindex.ca

As you can see, Toronto has had a slow and steady climb.

No Hockey stick..

No correction here.

BOOK Done, finished in sytle

Now the hard work, need to find a publisher with balls.

Made it to YUMA nice drive

After landing in Vegas, losing a negotiating with a dwarf Mexican for a deal on a ragtop I settled for a lime green Ford feista at 30 bucks a day .

I'll take the 300 I saved and play some craps.

After a sleepless night hammering jd and keyboard keys, I'm done.

After 7 chapters of writing, 26 ounces of JD, 3 packs of Cigarettes I've come to the conclusion, I better stay far away from writing fiction. My imagination and pure depravity are far beyond the norms of humanity, I better stick to a book about making money.

Leave the crazy loon in the closet where it belongs.

Ended up in Laughlin today, people here pronounce it, Lof-lyn. That's how f-ed the English language is. I call it Law-lyn.

Laughlin is a place  for old farts, they got a chair by the pool to lower the nearly dead into the water, I stepped on a used depends in the pool.

What was cool, I was the hot dude in the pool, all the grannies where smiling and sizing me up, all the while their nearly dead husband's where praying for me to take them off there hands.

This 70 year old woman next to me in a one piece swim suit, has the complete side of a boob exposed. She gets up to adjust her chair, I'm thinking please don't, I'm trying to force myself to look away. But I can't, I wanted to see if my prediction would unfold as anticipated.

Boom, it popped out. The horror.

That's it, with that image burned into my brain, it's over. I will never have sex again.

I never seen so many hurst's in all my life, they drop like Flys here.

Going back to Vegas in the morning. Ahhhhhh.

First stage of the Yuma book write

On my way

The Monster in Vegas Cleaner version for female market.

 The Monster in Vegas

By: The Dyslexic Smoking Man

I awoke in a newly renovated room at the Flamingo in Vegas to a faint raspy voice that was shouting “Smokey, hey Smokey, Whazz up Smokey?”

In a bit of a shocked state I quickly scan the room for an intruder, my hand clenching the phone in case I need a weapon.

“Smokey, god damn it, put down the phone, look at me man, I’m alive, throw down the sheets….”

That voice is coming from my bed as I squeeze the phone tighter. I prop up to get better leverage,  adrenaline pumping in my veins with fear, I slowly, carefully with one hand start pulling the sheets off, the other hand has the phone straight up ready to deliver a crushing blow. 

   

Nothing, no one here, in my immediate panic and fear I never noticed I have a massive erection. Haven’t seen that in about a year. 

Then panic really sets in, is this some one punking me?Did they secretly slipped me Viagra and filming this for a YouTube hit, where is the hidden speaker? 

What happened next sent my heart a millimeter away from cardiac arrest.

It was my penis speaking to me, the slit was moving with every word it said, it had tiny teeth a tong, with what appeared to be microscopic sunglasses and was smoking a cigar.

“Ha, ha, Smokey, what are we going to do about this?”

It was smiling at me Then said.

“We are in Vegas man, get the yellow pages, get me some pussy dude, I want four chic’s, 3 skinny ones and one big fat one?”

My mind races to last night, who drugged me?, this is not possible. 

I’m not talking to it, I’m not crazy. I grab the channel changer and turn on the TV, hoping whatever I was drugged with wears off soon.

Oh…Smokeeeey….talk to me dude, I understand, you’re a cheap bastard, you don’t want to spend the money on some young nectar, I get it. 

I have a solution, bring your hand down here, come try and strangle me, I will try and get away, but you know I can’t, but we know how this will end, I will puke straight up onto all four blades of the ceiling fan. Then the centrifugal force will fling it onto the walls and if someone gets murdered in this room you got some explaining to do. Spend the money buddy, get me the girls you cheap fucking bastard”

I start watching the movie previews.

“Smokey put the porn channel on, just me and you here, I won’t tell anyone.”

I look down at my dick and say,“can you please shut up”

“Oh your talking to me now, that’s a good start.” Then it goes into a hysterical laughing fit and starts coughing.

“Come on man call them up, I won’t tell Debbie, you know I have a vault, not like you pussy.”

I angrily look right at him and say, “What would you do with four women, are you a complete idiot, that's like 2000 dollars”

“Ha ha, Revenge my dear boy, revenge. First I would get us all oiled up, then we dive in for an 8 tit body slide, I pop up between the boobs, give them a little bite and kiss, my teeth are too small to hurt them, then I get the three skinny ones on one side of the bed on their knees asses high up in the air. The fat one on her back facing them, her legs in v formation, then you go down on her as they jealously watch. It would be amazing. To watch the skinny ones get pissed that you are only giving fatty the respect.”

At this point I get light headed, everything went dark, and I hear a ringing sound.

I open my eyes still in the flamingo, that’s good, I was dreaming, thank god, that was so damn real, I answer the phone and it’s my wife Debbie.

“Hi honey, am I ever glad you called, I was having a horrible nightmare, phone woke me from it, thanks” I said.

“Ah, Richard, I miss you, are you all set for the armature book writer’s convention, and did you meet up with Blithe barrington?” She said.

Before I can answer all I hear is a raspy voice that says. 

“Oh Smokeeeey...........................”

Garthos website down

Shit had a great post ready