Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

Seductive curve, home for so much...
Thighs wide, sensations border boundaries of trespass
taken.

Sitting, leg one, extended, legs too
bringers of
salvation.

Not the cup, mind you, mind me,
it is they you should not fear
fear is.

With a silhouette astounding
neither the shadows, this black and white
Pink.

Lost in dreams, where they
meet
silent.

[Lipinski]

Under the feather lost, lost without bodily comfort
Nested thoughts wander through sifted rays
Dusted ambitions
Dry salutations
Desert sands ever so slow, shifting.

Geese wing the river, the night inspiration guiding lead
Below
fish weave a tapestry while mayfly sleeps
water sprites dance with elves, until the stones stir.

With fawn battling eagle
Cricket outwitting snake
Mouse into clawed hawks appeal

There is life today, given and taken
Hand hovering the sun rarely but today
speaks...

To earth, it knows, to what comes though
it glows
Beaming
Anticipating
Waiting.

To the moon, it shares its secrets.

[Lipinski]

Thanks for the good job Daniel. Good luck on your next endeavor.

And, the inspiration is great.
***

Disagreement

Fucker
You're the fucker
No, you are
No, you are
No
No
No...

Yes?
What would happen if the word, yes, is used...
Yes?

Fucker
Yes.
You're a fucker
Yes.
No, you truly are a flaming fuck of an asshole
Yes.
...

To derail a train you take away the tracks
To calm hot comments you smile and turn the other cheek
What? Is what I say bad?
No.
Yes.

Insults.
Pride.
Greed.
Envy.
Hate.
Anger,
All must be bad, yes?

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

The world is flat...
No.
Yes.

Republicans are evil
Democrats are nice
Republican are nice
Democrats are evil
No?
Yes?

Yes/No
Yin/Yang
Two sides of a coin,
both so dearly needed, liked/despised
it is a part of being human
evolution of progress
until one day neither will be needed, this... yes and no.

[Lipinski]

It just never stops. Inspiration just oozes out of the air.

Today, while killing weeds for the homeowners association (25 miles of road) I stopped to refill the water tank at the house of the guy who gave me a prehistoric megladon shark tooth last year.

Learned his 13 year old daughter was getting a vaccine shot and shortly after, passed out, fell forward, landed on her head and broke her jaw in three places. Her chin, her joint, and the bone above the top teeth. She will not be able to eat for many more months. Has a lot of work to be done, and it will be very expensive. And imagine, all from something so simple as getting a vaccine shot...
*

Simple

Seatbelts to protect the occupants of a car, until an asteroid smashes it all to pieces
Helmets to protect bicycle riders until a semi-splatters them into pieces
Lifejackets to float the body until a shark can feast
Police to serve and protect unless you forgot to pay your taxes

Vaccines and broken jaws
Condoms and accidental babies
Shields shot to little bitty pieces
...

There is no such simple thing as safety.
Just make sure you run faster than the person standing next to you when running from a bear.
Look up when driving a car and leap out if you see falling flaming rocks.
Don't ride your bicycle on a freeway
Pass on going in a boat with a guy who says, "Trust me."
Condoms? Look at the above sentence.
Police really do care but they also like donuts.

"Safe" is nothing more than an illusion
You
are
going
to
die...
Most, horribly and in great pain,
which is why, live life on the edge, go full speed, bore, and never slow down, and if you see an angel coming for you
laugh, smile, and
make them chase you.

[Lipinski]

Lesson in language

Words change in meaning, meaning changes in words. By this, I mean today was educational for me. While driving to look at doing a hangar site prep/slab pour, I talked with an eleven year old girl. Learned a lot. Jean jackets for men are out. Converse gym shoes are in. Boys wear khaki pants. Pepsi and Coke are still popular. Katy Perry is obsolete. Lady Gaga is still in.

But it was the language I found interesting. I still use, 'cool, awesome, nice, fantastic, wonderful, excellent, and if I start drinking again, dyn-O-mite!

Today, the youngsters in Calforneeia use, 'gucci' if trying to be 'cool'. If black, negro, african american... then the word, 'lit' is used.

What a crazy world. Each generation trying to set themselves apart from the past and humorously enough, only are destined to repeat it (see converse tennis shoes and cat-eye glass frames for girls)

"It would be nice to train a baby human words in a way to totally ruin them when they grow into an adult. 'Could me cookie with ca ca cool? Lug nuts meat mallows to to' "

No. Parasite. It would not be nice. Modern civilization does a wonderful job of fucking it all up without any help from the likes of you.

"Go mallow to to"

Right. Okay. Inspirational
*

All words are the same.
Never really different.
Long
Short
Complex
Simple.

Booger or snot
Fecal or crap
Love
Hate

All words are the same
Never really different
Yet
...

If silent or loud
what is different
is
expression.

[Lipinski]

Tomorrow, where I live on the latitude of the northern hemisphere, we're gonna lose 1 second of daylight. Ha. 1 second 'lost'. So, where did it go? The sun has been shining for a few billion years now without one second of clicking off.

The human perspective of lost and found. Even the word change is interesting. Changing seasons. Changing minds. Changelings.

As I sit here spouting philosophical garbage I watch the ice in my glass melt. It was close to 100 degree's here today and even though it is only 68 in the house, (due to the wonderful swamp cooler) the ice melts fast and the water condensed outside the glass.

Writers can be inspired by much. Pain. Loss. Life. Love. Passion. Intellect. News. For me, today, I'm inspired by how ice changes, how it is lost in the heat.
*

Where

Placed here.
There exists there.
Solid with reality.

Cooled by ambitions
Frozen to lock in the time
A sun shines constant, only we gain and lose seconds according to days of the month.

Today, the frozen melts.
It oozes and mixes with, inside
Outside, the water condenses.

Sitting here, listening to the seconds gained and lost on a clock
Typing
Writing
Still melting.

Soon, there is no water, no ice, nothing but a straw staking claim in the bottom of the glass
Leaving me to wonder,
Ice lost? Melted? Changed?

Inside, the thirst is quenched leaving the body sated
as it too melts, until one day
it too
is gone.

[Lipinski]

Black block; beam solid cold; granite
Sparkle only when light is lif4ed
Five times five
then shados.

Familiar this now, as then, there,
will
be.

sodahs... echo's of shadows
His eyes were the tell, this now, as then, there
as spiders fly the sun set.

Let me share
His stare obvious when soul less the dare
his motives bare.

Two woman sat, one in bloom one with despair and a third stood aloof
Three and then four, with scores of men, women, children
caught
in the circle.

Games of hollow, scored by shallow, tallied, given, taken,
and still
he stared.

To though, in battle, it will succeed
leaving his black eyes empty, his power gone
the sword of...

Dreams with height giving depth
Down plunges edge of infinity
to stand in stone.

[Lipinski]

"Hey Robin, wanna play chess?"

You play chess parasite?

"No. I usually eat the pieces, especially if they are made out of ivory and ebony."

Sounds like a Stevie Wonder song. As for chess, it is a fun game. Strange though, for as smart as many human players are, the modern computers cannot be beaten. Speaks leaps and bounds for the how machines truly run this world.
*
Machines

Welded steel filled with arteries of hydraulic hose and engine
Lifting with ease
anything the excavator can grab.

Turn a key, turn on the stereo, put it in gear
and drive
Cold air, or hot. Power steering. ABS brakes
Cars and trucks rule the highways.

Soaring high leaving contrails
Jets and prop driven planes
Flight attendants serving peanuts and drink
Watching clouds beneath.

Smart phones, televisions, radios, space ships, medical devices
Once thought of as impossible
now, a fulfilled dream.

Pleasant and useful, until...
They break.

Snap. Pop. Crinkle. Crash. Smoke. Sirens. Fire.
and with this change, the language also,
oh my
such profanity.

[Lester Curtis]

Sorry I haven't been by much, but I like these last few. You've got some beat poet in there.

Let it burn.

[Lipinski]

Thanks Lester. Hard to believe how fast this year is cooking by. Before you know it, Columbus will sail for the New World and fall off the edge. Just imagine what 1723 will be like. I suspect people will think bees wax candles are better than whale oil lanterns. People are so crazy.

And thanks for the inspiration.
*

Let It Burn

Birth of a world, a world submerged in turmoil
Dark gods, dark lords, masters of chaos and will
Playing at death and creation.

Battles between light and dark, pulling suns apart
Twisting off the comets tail
Spilling blood to calm a moon.

Along comes the Dragon breath, hailed hearty with will
Playing at death and creation
Taking apart Dark gods dark lords, salving moments with a roar.

Pieces scattered across the universe
Clusters gathered
Gravity's choice
Accepted.
Rejected.

A tale it seems though long the tail
Long the fang
Long the hunger
Longing more than it seems.

Sitting atop the mountains, on guard, on watch,
always doing battle
yet
finding time for flowers, butterflies, and smiles
Dragons reign of peace resting hot place of passions
leaving evil to cool
in ashes.

[Lipinski]

River of Life from life

Roaring down rapids
Strolling through verdant fields and pasture
Cascading in a waterfall
fast
fast
faster.

Time with hot and cold
Winter and Summer
Rains falling
Sun shining
Fortune
Disaster.

Headwaters, a Spring
So high above the heavens
A gift.

Life
life
Coming full circle
Balanced.

[Lipinski]

Comfortable

Old shoes with blown out toes, held together by hope
Old shirt with holes, clinging softly, daring people to wonder
Old trousers with tears and stains, feeling like a part of the body.

Old car burning oil, cracked windshields where fell the stone, adventure every time the key is turned

Old is such when dealing with memories.

Old is something

Old is comforting

Old though, represents failing

Young though, the dreams
Every night alive with something something not old or strange
Every night is when old meets new, a world where i am truly
comfortable, young, and at peace.

[Lipinski]

Smell

Sweat odors disgusting some, some finding it attractive
Diesel exhaust so putrid yet stimulates truck drivers blood
Tangy spice of sugar cooking in the heat; cookies, cakes, pies... some say such reeks.

Fresh shit make some gag, some new parents find the experience strange.

Rotting wood, pungent, spicy, something termites crave.

Dirty socks.

Burnt meat.

Forest fires.

And then, when you think about it.
In space there is no sound to hear flatulence, no smell, nothing but physical cause/reaction
launching the bean eating astronaut on a slow one-way journey
to Mars.

[Lipinski]

Tongue of the Ravens

Black winged to blend the night with day
In circles joined two bend the light to me
Clouds in backdrop taking center stage, the wind knows.

Sunlight delivers the wave, messages made, messages sent
Hovering, speaking the language of life
Can you hear?

Higher and around, around and down, swooping, circling...
sound after sound
obvious
intent
dialogue more than...

So easy to hear and listen, now back to them
a reply loud and clear, coming from a world inside
to see them fly into nothing
nobody could see.

[Lipinski]

Chained beast, monster of dreams where mortal death reigns.
Fanged teeth, hinged claws unsheathed
Sparks to fly from sight where screams teach night

Daylight brings tally to
Numbers so extreme
Hope
If
Possibility
Devoured like too sweet.

Fuck you, and you, clubbed spike to bring relief
only
monsterssssss armor thick, extreme, daring a world to try,
and fail.

Look closely now, for forged in fires by Thor himself
gods to make such golden links
such binding breaks...

So many have tried, littered trail of bone topped skull
Mountains of an eternal room where screams are more dead than alive
Snake coiled
Wolves red eyed
for when parted, this chain binding through choice
shattered into a million butterflies, as sparrows sing.

[Lipinski]

In da good ol' days. Back when there be Kings n Queens (the female kind with crowns n not Mardi Gras titty beads) there existed the court.
In this court the King n Queen would sit and watch stuff such as jugglers, fire breathers, the occasional stabbing of some poor bastard, and of course, the court jester.

The jester was a fool but definitely no Fool, and had to be careful or get his (usually a he as the woman folk were all busy getting ravaged by the lords n such) head chopped off.

As a writer I admire the court jester. And if you think about it, today, real comedians are extremely smart. Sure, most are "fuck, fuck, fuckity, pussy, nigger, cunt...) Mostly low brow profanity and situation comedy designed to make the intelligent ones watching, gag. But if you look at the likes of George Burns, George Carlin, Mel Brookes, so many greats, they were highly intelligent and would have made excellent court jesters.

I love comedy. Tragic. Situation. Black. Slapstick...any and all forms. Sometimes I try to be the comedian but know full well I'm better at being the fool than the jester. It is good this way as back-in-the day I'd probably have had my head cut off by the king the first day on the job, then the head would be reattached and cut off again (about three times) for good measure.

So, today's piece of inspired writing comes with combination of the fool and Fool.
*

Bells, Bangles, Balloons

Silicone and paint; red readily round; nose bulbous to amuse
Look below, the floppy feet while stained wet from the squeeze-flower and urine.

Checkered pants worn with a checkered past, frills of oily fries and children's snot
Sleeve a pattern wearing laughter and tears.

In his hand a bottle of rye, where earlier there had been an endless colored scarf pulled from inside
Inside, the painted face, the artificial smile, the clown died.

Going by many names this fool had amused the masses
Children parties, weddings, even wakes, it was the laughter the world was seeking.

Alone, a clown car, filled with all he owned sat with the gas tank showing empty
Engine cooled never again to start, and if so, the pistons would seize the opportunity.

Sun shines on fools and idiots, it shines on those in love and happy, it just shines
Below, a world full of so much, so many, while Spanky the clown,
cried.

When he was buried, it was somber, no one came except the cascading soil pushed by the workers machine
No tombstone, memories, no nothing, except...
a small child with the memory,
the day Spanky came to his room where he too, lay dying,

Cancer took that child the very same day,
and now, Spanky was gone and buried, forgotten by the world, another drunkard and fool passed away
but next to him, the very next grave, lay the child who once truly laughed and was healed in his soul by the clown,
now together, in another world, the boy laughed while the clown was free.

[Lipinski]

Greatly inspired by some poetry in this months edition of Aphelion. Of course, poetry is a painting of words of which many find meaning to fit the mood. I've made mention many times that everyone alive is a poet. As such, at least for poetry, there cannot be the label of 'bad' placed on the work, only good as it is good the species has the capability to express in ways a computer, baboon, or democrat could never come close to being able to do. (and for you republicans, you still have to learn which orifice food goes into and out of...)

Joking aside, poetry is truly a beautiful part of humanity. Right up there with art, music, and the will to survive. Everything else is just like clothing and thus open to interpretation.
*

Life

A species arrives to mature fruition the moment it chooses to kill for instead of live with
So proud with uniforms, pomp, and killing machines
Jets with cannon
Cannon with laser
Missiles
Nukes
Poison gas
Bullets
Screams.

A species with the full knowledge of rape and pillage
Lie
Steal
Murder
Maim
Me.

WE, says the humanity, me, I, me,
and you?
Fuck you
I love you
I hate you
Jesus saves
God is dead
What is there to eat?

(silence)
Birds nest, ants carry, spiders weave.

A species arrives to mature fruition, look outside upon your world, so easy to see
Such hustle and bustle
Huge blossom of good and bad,
the you, the me.

Fruition?
Is this all humanity can be?
It is bad
It is good
What else can it be?

(silence)
Questions are asked when already forming an answer
Answers are waiting for questions
What is this word, fruition?
Enjoyment?
Realization?
Ah yes, the state of bearing fruit.

(silence)
Deep the vacuum of space, listen, can you hear the stars sing?

What is fruit if not a part of sexual maturation, the sperm, the egg.

If the cycle goes, repeats, over and over and over...
It must be the same?
Conception
Growing
Reproducing
Dying
Rot.

(silence)
Can't you hear? Even the stones vibrate with sounds, as does the water, soil, plants, trees.

Yes, the species, this herd, this, those, that, these...
It has arrived, at the right place, the right time, the right dimension
left with the ability
to see.

Soon, Life takes place over life
Soon, humanity will finally hear and see
wonders beyond wonders
Complex so simple
Sounds so pure
It will be good, of course good too, will change
all meanings will be new,
new meanings
new words
new worlds,
and until...
continue with the cycle child
man' 'woman

(silence)
So loud the universe of music, even now the vacuum itself
sings

[Lipinski]

BOOM!

What did you do now parasite?

"I blew my weenie off..."

Why?

"Well, it's the 4th of July and lets just say, the dolphins have migrated and I needed a lift-off."

Did it work?

"Yep, my weenie is still waaaaay up there... Wait. Wait. There, it reached apex and will touch down in 5, 4, 3, 2, splat."

Pathetic parasite, just pathetic.
*

Today is the 4th. Independence Day, a day many college idiot don't know anything about but it is a day celebrating China's liberation from the tyranny of the Canadian army. It all happened in 1978. Go ahead. Google it. It's true. Trust me.

Anyway, joking aside, today was a great inspiration for this writer and for many reasons. But, one reason is that during my drive back from swimming I saw a dead raccoon on the side of the highway and a little bit later, a dead vulture. I just had to stop and see this story for myself so doing a turn at slow speed in my extremely stupid Chevy Spark, I stopped, got out and saw the whole thing.

Little raccoon had been crossing the highway and got hit. Then, as the body bloated, a vulture stopped by, and yes, Idaho has vultures, both of the human variety and the bird type. Anyway, this vulture was just starting to enjoy the feast when the steady stream of holiday traffic went zooming by. In a bit of a panic the bird took flight but the air density is thin in hot temps so it was unable to gain height as quickly as usual. Soooo... It too entered the rotting chain of decomposition.

Oh, the story does not end. As getting back into the really cool 18 horsepower Chevy Spark, I wound up the rubber bands and let her fly back on down the highway where about 18 miles further down the road I came upon emergency vehicles and a very bad single-car accident. Of course, the results were the same. Death.

Interesting. Three deaths. The highway. And if a writer can't find inspiration to write something about such then they should put away the pencil and paper and take up knitting.
**

The Highway

Death tolls the bell or so the Poe goes
Where crow cries the scarecrow cries in sorrow
As fields lay to plunder.

Mile after mile, a serpentine paved, fangs of mile markers show length
Heated asphalt splits
Drawing so many types of life.

Why did the chicken cross the road?
To escape
only
a narrow divide decides
who lives
what dies

Raccoon bloated
Vulture unsated
Human a part of a steel tomb

Broken glass and wood
Broken wing and feather
Striped tail still blowing in the wind

What the hell possessed me to buy a Chevy Spark to drive the highway
when I could have hitchhiked and lived.

[Lipinski]

Very inspirational day today. Today finally came, one that I have known about for a long time. A good day, some could say a sad day, but it is a good day. It took a lot of patience, a lot of doors to open and close. Many, many streams to ford. Lots of thought. And more... But today is a good day, some could say a sad day but it was needed.

***

Splitting the Mountain

Eons of moments; snow falling, ice forming, ice melting, rain falling
Seasons of desert, of winter, spring, summer, fall
Waterfalls indeed falling, rising fog, rising dreams.

This ground so solid moves, nibbled by gravity and trial
Beneath lays a molten core
passions of past and better days, with past and better days to come.

Sounds so bleak, these changes, where landslides bury and stones crush
yet
flying above, the butterfly, so fragile, so weak, so colorful, so alive
so me.

For every mountain there is a plain
Lapping the shore, an ocean deep
filled too, with mountains and dreams.

Mermaids beckon with song and smile
guarding sunken treasure
yet too, the mountains sink.

Taking flight, above it all, a round blue world below
Looking forward now, to new mountains, new dreams, new worlds
Such is this thing call Life, where all are welcome, all are together
Singing songs, dancing, climbing the mountains together,
and maybe
just maybe
we all will see.

[Lipinski]

Ladybug Song

In the kingdom of Creek and Fall
Pooled waters deep where walled stones greet
They cling to dance and fly to eat.

A magical place where in meeting they announce to a world
With colorful shell and wing
"We are many, we are, weee"

Harmony now, with zippered beat, such beauty on and with
Rejoicing as they are my friends, they sing to me
Walking the body with little feet.

In the heat of day, the cool of night
Stars they guide to, a moon replaced, a sun to circle
Listen carefully wherever you are, as it is time for the ladybugs
to sing.

[Lester Curtis]

These are nice. I especially like the one with the raccoon and vulture. Made me wonder if another vulture would show up to see to the remains of its cousin.

You have a Chevy Spark? Why didn't you just get a bicycle? Oh, wait--Idaho. Nevermind. Seriously, I love tiny cars; my first car of any kind was a '65 Beetle convertible--amazing, unless you wanted to make the speed limit on the freeway or not get gassed to death.

My first new car was a '73 Honda Civic. Guys at the factory made fun of me a lot, though. One guy said I looked like "a monkey fuckin' a football" in it.

Bicycles--and trikes--are serious, though (or at least to some crazies like myself). I had two nice bikes, way back when; loved to ride. Then my hip went flooey in '99 and I couldn't ride anymore. I'm pretty sure I'll be back, though; I'm in process of lining up a hip replacement and they say biking is good after that. I've been eyeing recumbent trikes; been wanting one for about forty years and couldn't justify the expense. I'm single now, though, so I can afford it. I like this one:

http://sunseeker.bike/index.php/products/x3-ax/

I view bicycling as the ideal means of local exploration: fast enough to cover a fair amount of territory, slow enough to not miss little delights (Hi, hawk!), and you can bounce off the road at a whim to poke around in a creek or piss in the bushes. Quiet, too. Plus, I've just always liked going places under my own power. I like kayaks and canoes for the same reasons. Stick an engine on something and you have to pay too much attention to the vehicle instead of the surroundings, and you're automatically forbidden from, say, pulling off the road into someone's yard long enough to glass a nest of crows. So, you automatically *discover* a lot more that you'd miss with a gas pedal underfoot.

[Lipinski]

Oh hell yes. Vultures would eat themselves if hungry enough. About the only thing I don't think they'd turn their nose (beak) up on would probably be a politician. Politicians are so putrid I don't even think a dog would roll on them. Speaking of which, why do dogs roll on dead stinky stuff? I have one that loves to roll in fresh cowshit. So nice to see her come into the house covered in a soft green colored patina.

One of my favorite small cars was a ford festiva. Looked like a breadbox on wheels but got 50mpg. No AC, no radio, ugly, but highly efficient on the dead dinasaur fuel.

You'd be very surprised to see how much a 65 VW convertible is worth today. You'd be able to sell it and buy about fifty of those sunseeker bikes. (they look like exercise to me)

Speaking of bikes, look up the Ural motorcycle. They have a sidecar and are two wheel drive. Now, while I can appreciate the beauty of human powered machines, let me ask you a question. How many people do you see riding a bicycle in 100 degree heat, wearing a space helmet, carrying 100 pounds of camping gear...How many do you see with a smile on their face? And I'm not talking about the ones high on drugs or retarded, I'm talking about normal people. Everytime I see them on the highway here in Idaho, they look like those religious zealots that beat themselves with sticks to repent their sins. In other words, they look tortured.

I bet a hot air balloon would be best. Quiet. Human powered. And fun in a thunderstorm.

Now, Lester, must say the part about a 'monkey fuckin a football,' had me laugh a bit as I'm a visual kinda guy and I pictured... So, inspirational. And thanks for checking in and good luck on the new hip. I know many to include my father who got one. In fact, my fathers first one was the wrong size so they replaced it and I got the old one as a paper weight. Way cool.
*

Monkey Fuckn The Football

'73 was the year the jungle met the highway
Japanese cars while the Japanese corporations sought to buyout America
Hotels, golfcourses, skyscrapers...
Yen so powerful they bought everything.

The mighty white man, sitting in Asian pride
while in the jungle, the monkeys grinned
flinging poo at the tourists and jacking off to amuse the masses.

Camaro, Corvette, Charger, Duster, Mustang...
against
Honda, Nissan, Toyota
oh my, the monkeys grinned!

Burning rubber of American might, muscle and brawn with glass packs and four barrels.
Turning asphalt into goo, guys with pretty girls riding shotgun, reverberations and pride
followed by
Subaru tofu eaters and economy minded factory workers driving behind Japanese steering wheels.

Knew a guy, Lester out on a drive through the jungle,
other workers laughed and said, "Looks like a monkey fucking a football,"
Humor though, Jap steel and American football, a marriage of kind
while in the zoo, the monkeys flung poos and masturbated
waiting for the next meal.

[Lester Curtis]

Cute.

My '65 was worth its weight in scrap metal when I literally gave it away. It had gassed me unconscious on the PA turnpike one cold autumn night ... my eyes popped open and I saw the inside guardrail heading for me at 70 (the fastest it could go)--yanked the wheel to the right and crossed both lanes, sideswiped an embankment and came to a stop about a hundred yards from a PA highway patrol post. I thought that wasn't the place to be, so I moved on a mile or so--the thing was moving sort of cockeyed. Pulled over and looked at it; the right rear wheel was slanted about 20 degrees instead of being nice and vertical. Tried to get some sleep, and next morning I got off at the next exit, found a garage, and signed over the registration.

Think about all that for a moment ... the PA turnpike being what it is, if I'd gone off the road about a mile sooner or later I'd have ended at the bottom of one of those mountains.

I really did love it, though; it had the sweetest clutch and tranny and it wouldn't get stuck in anything. I deliberately tried to get it stuck in a huge mud puddle once. Drove into this puddle, which was on grass, stopped in the center of it. Opened the door and looked down--yep, muddy water up to the running boards. Put it in first, ran the RPMs up and dumped the clutch--fuckin' boring, the damned thing just walked right out of it.

Another time, I was driving around in the winter and noticed something unusual: I was losing traction. Well, okay, I slowed down a little; the road was covered in thick, slick ice, after all. Got home and noticed the tires were utterly bald.

A former friend has a Fiesta; he took me on a ride through some pastures once; GREAT fun. Like a front-wheel-drive version of the old Beetles, but without the poison gas; goes anywhere. They should bring those back--unless that Spark is close enough.

Yeah, the guys who go ride bikes when they should be swimming--indoors--some of them run instead. I used to run, too, but I had enough sense to stay immobile in the shade on days like that. No heat stroke for me, thanks.

I saw one of those Urals once. Damn burly looking thing. The sidecar is an option, I think, but the bikes all have the PTO for the 'car. Read some reviews on them; they're a poorly made copy of a BMW, and horrific major things break on them and then you can't get parts or service.

Hot-air balloon? I have two words: power line. Two more words: no steering. And you're in a wicker basket next to a BIG propane tank. How loud can you scream seeing your death coming at you in slow motion?

Late now. Later.

[Lipinski]

You know what Lester? You should be a writer. I truly enjoy the style and found it easy and entertaining to read. Which is why I find writing so fun. To just rehash old memories is a wonderful story everyone has inside. Of course some peoples memories are more horror than joy.

Never had the opportunity to drive the PA turnpike but if memory serves me it costs coin to travel, or maybe dollars now. Isn't that a privately owned highway?

As to the damage to the car after it tried to kill you... Doesn't sound to bad. Nowadays, a little weed inhalation would straighten out the tire and Gorilla tape would fix the rest (or maybe some super glue also)

The Spark is sporting a cool title but in every other area except fuel economy, it is a blow to the male ego, though not as bad as the bright pink VW bus I had the pleasure of owning. Kinda miss that one as the looks I got were very entertaining. Especially ones given by short haired, baseball cap wearing, snoose chewing, levi wearing, flannel shirt toting, red necks. "Yee Haw! I'm a gonna buy me a pony!" (while probably thinking of other short haired, baseball cap wearing, snoose chewing, levi wearing, flannel shrit toting rednecks with a nice ass...) They probably would buy a pink saddle but are not man enough to own up to the fact that just like the song in Aerosmith, "Pink, it's my favorite crayon, yeah."

The Ural bike still sounds cools though. And hey, look at the AK-47. Been around for ever. My research said the Russkies been building those bikes since the war. Plus, super glue, weed inhalation and Gorilla tape (or duct tape) could fix any problems.

Now, the best part of what you wrote was the part about the balloon. It would be a good joke to go to some big hot air balloon festival and hand out pamphlets you design and write... Damn. It would be fun to see people read them while the wooshing sound of hot flame lifts the basket towards the million volt high power lines. Come to think of it, the next time I fly I think I'll place some 'pamphlets' I design, into the back of some of the seats.
*

Welcome to our airline (insert trade name)

We have done our best to insure that only fat people sit next to and in front of you. We do this so as to have you smell the urine tainted sweat they ooze while also infringing on your personal bubble. Also, we've specifically designed the seats to recline so you have absolutely no free space at all. And if you're the poor bastard stuck in the middle seat, we truly know your life sucks.

Also, the seat you are currently in was and hardly has been, cleaned since the aircraft was made. We find the body grease builds up and protects the fabric.

As for service from our excellent staff of narcissus, self absorbed, people who thought they would meet some nice people, get a nice adventure, travel the world, and get paid... Ha! The jokes on you and them. They suck. You suck.

And if you think this plane you're sitting in is safe, have you seen our mechanics? Circus clowns would make better wrench turners than those overpaid union due paying cry babies. Hope you took out travel insurance before boarding.

Speaking of crybabies. Did you know that many of commercial pilots get a divorce since they hook up with those same staff of narsisstic, self absorbed, flight attendants. And did you know they think about crashing the plane into the ground because their lives are fucked up? Most have to pay child support or support a drug/alcohol problem. And if you're lucky, check to see if the one who is piloting your flight bows to Mecca...Ha!

Anyway, if you feel like barfing, fucking, snoring, or bringing your own food that smells like the ass end of a goat, feel free to do so. And if you want an electrical experience, just yell, "Allah Akbar," stand up waving your hands in the air and try and punch an air marshall. You'll be so happy you did.

So, sit back. Be as uncomfortable as possible and thank your lucky stars that you actually paid money to fly with us. And as one who never flies on company planes rather, my own private jet. I must say, it sucks to be you.
***

(to do something like that on an airplane is probably a good way to get on the banned no-fly list. or, get onto the parasites good side)

[Lester Curtis]

Got to your second sentence and busted up laughing. More later, thanks.

[Lipinski]

I know, being a writer is on par with being a potted plastic plant or a biologist trying to hit it in the big time by discovering some kind of life-saving element in whale shit.

Speaking of writing. Inspired today by a news headline: Nevada marijuana supply running low, state of emergency declared, governor says

Now that is not only a good kind of news to read but one conjuring up clouds of humor and a puff of inspiration. For me, marijuana is nothing more than a popular fad. In my opinion, it is 'safer' than drinking a gallon of moonshine. (I could drink a gallon I made in two days. Of course I didn't nor do I have a drinking problem. I just had problems of forgetting where I lived, what my name is, and if I forgot to put on clothes before going for a drive to a state five states away. Or, in Alaska, waking up in Russia...)

Drugs always have and always will be a part of the human condition. When I smoke weed it makes me hungry. Actually though, I kinda like it and would vote to make it legal in every state, if anything, just to piss of all the puritans who hate it while they embrace beating their children or pet.

Funny world though. Abortion is legal, allowed, accepted, and it does not matter if one child is killed or a billion... No 'State of emergency' about killing. But, run low on weed? Great gods! Call out the national guard. Call the president. Yikes! Priorities of humans are truly ffffff-u-c-k-e-d up. Of course, all in this writers opinion.

"Yeah moron, and your opinion sucks. However, I have a little toke, I mean token of my appreciation for accepting weed..."

Ah, yes, thank you parasite. Just don't let the governor in Nevada know where you 'found' it...
***

Priority

To wake up or not, a choice not really taken
Eyes open, mouth open, body flapping in the wind
Walking left, or right?
Whatever, a path is taken.

To kill or not; fly, ant, spider, bug, snake...
or
did you pay your taxes, child support, rent
or
did you smoke a joint or drop acid?

What is more important to you?
Writing?
Reading?
Being alive?
Dying?

Choice. Choose. Cheat. Complete.
Decisions of before, during, after
so much place with importance
so much faith
so much drama
so, so, so,
much...

Does it really matter?
Will the sun stop shining while you stutter with your actions?
Will the wind stop blowing while you sit rich/poor, laughing/crying?
Will the world stop spinning on its axis if you made the right/wrong decisions?

Fuck no. It does not matter what you do, they do.
It does not matter what anyone does, except,
really? Does it?

Who wins, who loses, when really there is more than a simple answer.
What matters is life and love, the soul, the striving to win over everything
with peace...Or, does that too, not matter?

Priority is... what's that? You want an answer?
Let me check my calendar, consult my horoscope, make an appointment with my therapist...
and maybe, after eating a salad, throwing rocks at a lizard, picking my nose, calling a phone sex prostitute...
I think I can schedule giving you an answer, oh, lets say, sometime between death and tomorrow.

[Lipinski]

Sound

Inside the mute button lays the symphony of
Of this inside there reverbs vibrations, sss, sss, sss
So simple really, this diaphragm seeming so complex, xxx, xxx, xxx

Vacuum of space there exists songs, sss, sss, sss
So exciting
can you hear?

Inside the shell resides a beating heart, a rhythm, a beat, life
Of this inside there bounces songs of vacuum, of soul, of mind
Mindful, meaningful, inside, eee, eee, eee

Tonight the stars shine with songs so loud even deaf intelligence can find
For inside something so simple, so full, lll, lll, lll
Crickets even join, joining even
and so,
listen to what's inside.

[Lester Curtis]

snip

Never had the opportunity to drive the PA turnpike but if memory serves me it costs coin to travel, or maybe dollars now. Isn't that a privately owned highway?

Near as I know it's still state-owned, otherwise it would be called something else, like maybe the Pennzoil Turnpike, and would have billboards every hundred yards, and maybe cautionary signage like, "Ford owners--reinstall Microsoft operating system, five miles." There are very few billboards, though. It's just supported by user fees instead of some global state tax.

I kinda like that; I only get on superhighways five or six times a year, so a user fee would be an advantage to me.

One thing about the PA turnpike: in over sixty years of occasional experience with it, I've never--EVER--been on it when some part of it wasn't under construction, or reconstruction, I guess. That's okay; the parts of it not being worked on are always in good condition.

As to the damage to the car after it tried to kill you... Doesn't sound to bad. Nowadays, a little weed inhalation would straighten out the tire and Gorilla tape would fix the rest (or maybe some super glue also)

Well, it did still run, but I don't think it'd take me long to start collecting unsafe vehicle citations. And I couldn't afford the amount of weed it would take to repair it.
snip

The Ural bike still sounds cools though. And hey, look at the AK-47. Been around for ever. My research said the Russkies been building those bikes since the war. Plus, super glue, weed inhalation and Gorilla tape (or duct tape) could fix any problems.

No; from what I hear, there's no comparison between a Ural and an AK-47 for reliability. I had a neutered version of the AK-47 in .223 caliber, a Saiga, built in the same factory (I think it's a whole city, actually) where the military versions were made. Those guns never need repair because they never break, and if you see how they're made, you get an understanding of that.

Besides, weed doesn't work on Russian-made goods; you use vodka instead.

Now

the best part of what you wrote was the part about the balloon. It would be a good joke to go to some big hot air balloon festival and hand out pamphlets you design and write... Damn. It would be fun to see people read them while the wooshing sound of hot flame lifts the basket towards the million volt high power lines. Come to think of it, the next time I fly I think I'll place some 'pamphlets' I design, into the back of some of the seats.

snip

I like that. Maybe too true for your own good, though.

If I'm going to fly in anything, my favorite choice would be a helicopter. I bought a ten- or fifteen-minute ride on one once and LOVED it; little jet helo, maybe four or five passenger job. The pilot was having as much fun as he could get away with, diving at trees and climbing back up, making nicely banked turns. He wasn't doing a fraction of what the aircraft was capable of, of course; all seats filled with unknown civilians, and I'm sure he didn't want to have to clean up bodily fluids.

Little-known thing about commercial pilots, though; they have to deliberately make all their maneuvers as gently as possible (while keeping the plane in the air) so as not to upset the passengers. So no commercial passenger will ever have the joy of hearing, "This is your captain speaking ... if you look out your window, you'll see that the sky is now below your view and the ground is overhead ..."

[Lipinski]

You do know that using science as helicopter is not supposed to be able to fly? For that matter, neither is a bumblebee. I love science when it is so serious and yet so wrong at the same time.

Almost blew hot soup out of my nose when you mentioned about the commercial pilots... When I was stationed in India as a Marine security guard I flew the Indian airlines on courier runs... I swear those bulges on the back of the pilots were parachutes And sitting next to a crate of chickens is what every flyer should have on their flying 'bucket' list.

Worked on putting a metal roof on a home I'm building for a man from Florida. It was 113 degrees today and the roof-top was probably 120 (science says dark colored objects, especially metal, soak in the heat of the sun. Today, science was correct and sucked at the same time.) Tomorrow, more of the same! Yippee! I'm a fucking moron for finding any humor in something so stupid. I should be out there right now, now that it is dark and cooling... But nooooo, deep my sleepy time.

Good hearing from you Lester, hope your weekend is a cool one. Send me more Leeta the talking dog stuff to read. (I really like their mating habits but sad about what happened to...)
*
The Mirage

When the sun bakes my world, the event horizon shimmers in waves
Today, three rattlesnakes as real as you and me
A butterfly almost landed on my finger but the vibrations scared it away.

I saw so much today, the traffic, the flow, the sun, the sky

Today was hot indeed, hotter than a body needs, but Gary smiled
and so
today was a good day.

[Lipinski]

Almost turned into a form of helicopter today. Roofing with 15' metal panels, in the wind, balanced on tippy toes trying dearly not to fall off... Said, "Fuck this," and went swimming. A muuuuuch better choice.
*

Dragonfly

Black and white even on wing
Beneath seen the sun beyond
Serene.

Back and forth, and back again
Circling, hovering, speeding
Serene

While children laughed and jumped the pool
Above they winged
Serene

Old men gossiped, old women swam to look young
They circled looking
Serene

Even now, the sun long set, the pool closed, the families asleep
Flying in my mind
Serene.