T w i t t e r II: For “Rejects and Mofos”

Seven Mary Tree

Samahanand Akahn, a doctor in Libya with 19 wives and no children slowly felt despair that all his seed was dead. He thought he could not have true eternal life without at least a daughter. So he trained to be a cop and became close with police women who were ten years younger- at least his fatherly caring came thru. He never inappropriately touched any of them. He was rich and could have any woman. But he wanted to risk his neck for inner peace that a police officer woman or two would be little sisters.

Members of the Hifa sect of Bedoin cultic christianity accused him of lasciviousness. Called his polygamy totally immoral. Picketed his house with signs. One sign read that he had sex with a police woman.

Samahanand called the PD on THAT day, resigned verbally to an operator and shot the man holding the sign that said “Samahanand and Mary… porking in a tree”. Two powder sprays of blood misted dark red out of the christian’s head, skull-pop resounding… followed by a shot to the abdomen. Samahanand, who DID have a close relationship with Marie Itzakrantz, a half- Jewish sniper, he was falling in love with her. They only had coffee. He was going to put his wives in a bigger house and honour them as mothers to the orphans they took care of when they were not drinking ouzo and sunbathing and living wanton.

Marie was like no other

He expressed his love as fire and slipped. He knew he had to cut off from the police. He thought then, he had commited love suicide… he must have! He turned around and went to Arder Well in Hajraan by the charter school, put a Lelu blade over his head strung to a line of rope and dropped a brick down a well. A Lelu, I will not describe because I cannot prove he used a Lelu razor halo. A beheading tool. He was not seen alive. His deceadant body missing a head. Skull is in the well. Dental records show a mouth full of gold!!

I need 2 volunteers to fly to Abaandanandi, Nigeria with me around January 15th, 2017 to retrieve the skull and teeth. Also- there is a 10 million dollar reward for catching the killer. It was the Lelu and gravity. All tragedy. Big deal. I WANT 10 million dollars. I will share $800,000 split two ways. You have to trust me.

Trust that I bullshit brown chocolate whipping cream outta my ass

I am golden! 🙂

Did that move you? It moved my colon

I gotta shit more poop now

See ya…

And message me… I really am going

Its a $100,000 reward and it happened in Congo. 6 wives, not 19.

We will hold funeral services for the doctor…

Neeyaa neeya WEE WOO blee blo …

You have entered the Twilight zone

Get high on me and you are

Not alone

C’mon, Andy- Just Land That On The Geist Zeit Strip!

Rome unto The Norse

–

USA unto The Iraqi

Golden Gate Lemming Drops

Mapo

–

South

Korea

Mapo

Bridge

–

Mapo

Has

Solutions

–

Railing photo memorial

–

San

Francisco

Bureaucracy

Blocks

An American

Sacred

Memorial

For survivors

For loss

For prevention

To decrease

Deceadant

Body

Scoop

–

What

About

Coast Guard

ptsd

I think

That what I think

Matters

Very

Little

…

So I web log

Weblog

Blog it

Today

For the 8th time

Not including city e-mails

To nice ol’ SF

That living photos

Permaposted

Would be

The greatest American not-blog

Logging life

Before

The deceadants appeared

Broke

Fell

Back

A Christmas home

A real heart wrencher

To a lost sheep

TO MAKE THAT MORBIDITY PEEL RIGHT OFF

Or do we enjoy

Autonomous autoviolent video

On YooHoo tuber?

I do not

Suicide is too “too”

For that Bay Area

I am guessing

A weird freedom

It would be cooler

To die

Of cancer

–

Cooler to challenge

One’s own spirit

To stick-with-ship

As it is

Everyone

Is getting

What they need and want

–

Insanity sugar coated?

Looney Tunes “Now I’ve seen everything”… Aaaaaaaaaaa… * BURST *

Bloat

Float

Ship cruise up

Scoop

–

Why not leave the fallen leaf

Like Autumn

Why scoop up biological mass?

120lb female

310lb male

167lb young male

110lb young female

Brady Bunch it

Why not have Mike Carol Alice Cindy Bobby Greg Marsha Peter Jan and Tiger all go over together?

Like the great accident in 1824 AD during the Great Depression

Casualties did not exceed what was expected

Yet now

They have

The bridge glory

Illusion of grandeur

History

Is natinally known

And seen

–

Help has arrived

From the East

I am Thich Quack Duck

The non aqueous non immolater Mayahana crimson lotus maybe-maker

I say YouTube: Mapo

Or we will never see a decrease

Or just “hope” elsewise

Never too late

No fear

No shame

Writing this kills me

Its so boring

And I am not sure jumping is ultimately bad

But for Coast Guard ptsd I write

If You Truly Are Worse Without Them…

Then you are better…
…on drugs

    Don’t be a dipshit
    Pay your rent
    Go to church or don’t

Be legal. Why be illegal?
Why run?

Run for freedom

Don’t run from it

Paid by Harrison Campaign for United States President fund blown back in time to young me.

Oh, I am 40.
I would comb my hair like Obam-Bam but I am a whitey spud man. Reddish outside, white inside.

We are all bright white inside… at least all us children of the truth… is it hard to tell who is a LIAR?

Well, step outside of THE GAME, friend. I am afraid for 3 reasons that someone at any given time could kill me or one I love and I would love to just make you some crazy pancakes and tell you that I do not smoke weed.

Hell, I would if I had the time and weed and it was legal. I have. That toke isnt halping me now iz it?

For shizzle my brisket fears getting shot wrong. There is a clear view into my bedroom and if I get shot then that is cool. If I live.

If I die I prefer not to hear people crying and glass in the eye would be annoying. The heat sensation from a new tunnel in me would sting. But the lack of nerves around organs if shot through the collar bone would ensure I would scream.

But as I know pain- as a patient of 5 decades since ’74 or ’73, however you wade I would say if I am screaming, my ‘sabrosa’ (soul unit head piece) is ‘atop’ so as to peer to center earth as Christ on the Cross would instruct if you ever took private lessons in his DYING school.

I despise my individuality.

People who say shit and shizzat like me get punched, shot, raped, molested, in all seriousness- because we are beautiful and someone makes a sandwich out of us when we are weak.

Who fears leading?

Leading the way?

Gandalf is real in your imagination. Put him aside.

Ghandi was skinny.

Mother Theresa had a nose.

Jesus had a temper.

Mohammed had a lot of wives. And was perhaps key to the Eternal economics of a perfect modular soceity we all reject.

   Now remove the polygamists from before the altar of the High god of gods and so forth, being quasi-specific about the verbage of Hebraic “Elohim” Dr. Phil- not YOUR Dr. Phil- my Dr. Phil who died but looks over my shoulder now, right this moment as we acknowledge that Jesus sits directly behind me. I am sure.
   He never left me.
           And by his power I am being myself which is to make a paragraph huddle like
       North and South America.
           And then say I don’t
             know what to tell you
               about boys who
                 almost die and go to
                    heaven.

Because I can tell you with certainty that it is what YOU believe that matters. Not funny blonde bowl cut kid. If he did see Jesus it would be for you and not him and maybe he is super nice or autistic. Children do not tend to commit massive horrendous blasphemy. If a child was sin you could say it like a baby is a poop machine, but see- even poo, though it IS decomposition of dead shit literally… it can be funny.
Praise God, congregates.

I am annuling my personal divorce with the word ‘shit’ but I won’t sat it in church. Much.

I have to live with shit.
I am friended by Joni Earekson Tada who now suffers. She is motherly age to me but if we meet, that’s nice. I would tell her she is sister and share the glory. Of our accomplishments. The invisible ones. Well… one. Drawing in Jesus.

How this works the Whole World around- don’t you worry. Be with him. Live with him. Believe in him. Like Joe Nameth. Only catchier.
Jesus.

Jesus

Protect me from the FEAR.

Amen.

If you want to send a love gift- pay it back, forward, left and right… and you will have quadruple-crossed yourself.
No. No.
My math… is wrong.
Don’t even double cross yourself. But DO cross yourself, Jesus. Cross me over your heart in a heart of worship, safety and thankfulness. Protect my way from pride as I HAVE been mouthy and used the mouth I have to talk to police about public safety.

At least that is what my prayer usually consists of. The public domain is a modular representation of God’s wisdom, kingdom, power, authorship… this WORLD is his BLOG.

NICE blog, Sir.

“Señor” is the word for lord in Spanish. Olé? Times up on that time honored tradition. For me anyway. Cannot tell if its pee sea. Oops.

That’s me. Crude. Elemental. A percent. But my eternal self is perhaps beyond percent? I’ll settle for 400%. It’s the new 98.6 & so I do not overheat, I am going to finish by saying
thank you for reading my blog.

My health and circumstances suck and I am paranoid I will die. Well, in 0 or 100 years I think a casket will merge with the product of my eatery-ness. (U R what you eat). Also- there are a lot of American heroes that are NOT American. Like Shakeel Afridi. God bless him! He is persecuted!!

Gnite

I Just Wrote The Most Amazing Piece

And God let me overlap it as an e-mail to my local Police

It is raw grit heart without fart

I am not sure if it went to the city or what

I was suicidal this month, but honey (not my wife, all of you… well, her too), –

I am a writer

THIS IS publish

Take me to a book pub

I wanna guzzle a pint of Frost

I love you monkey-bootsers and chunky rankers

What the hell

Euphoria? More guiltless than a Gorbasm

I could live or die
Am I in trouble

Epilogue

In all seriousness, my consistant bp is high
Never say die… they say
I could be famous away
(Fame after death only)
But YOU were my fame all of you my eyes touched

I want to see Jesus

Those are the last words I would want Syntaxsinner to text-utter if he fell

My heart, rhyming still, beats like a chestnut bell.

I want a holly jolly xmas
O heaven

I will get at least ONE as I count to eleven

1, 2, 3…

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?

All this time I have been writing, and no one asks or notices?

Its in my art…

My art is not magic.

    Have you all simply failed
    to notice my Gestatisch
    presence?

You never meet me.
A likely excuse.

I shy from sunlight.

     Women look delicious. I do
     not say blasphemous
     words, do I? Well not
     before noon and supper
     feeding. Suppers.

I don’t feed on good
people.

     Well… if they are not going
to make it anyway. I know
that in United Kingdom there
is a blonde- do NOT let her
   bombshell near you. She
    eats fruit, so she tastes
     like… a trap… hahah hah!

I read the small blood book and memorized it until it becomes my skin painfully breathing FOR me in times and I am wretched. I am of the night in the “I in I” of ME

I drink crimson rain until I am a pain to no one. I take any food, drug, livestock broke in my hand from the store and even sweet drops of another’s blood so sweet ringin’ strange with iodine taste assembling my umbillical connection.

Låår Ies lives in the pit of my soulless soul heart and spirit turned sour- makes me sing of sweet viscerin, the dear illuminant beyond Rome’s oars aching, rowing forever.

I am one of the most powerful and if you call me good, or if you call me evil, YOU will be cast OUT.

Sound like I am mindlessly babbling? Then what are you hitting THIS sentence for? What is for all of our kind but a sentence of death? A single person- have you ever seen anyone 150 years old or more?

No.

In 150 years- you. Me.
All on Earth now except for trees, jellyfish and… that very persistant species of turtle… will be no more.

Secret

Do you want to know a secret?

Never take no for an answer.

No is not.

There is “no” and there is no “no”. It is an “un-“.

Ecclesiastes:
“Nothing cannot be counted.”
(I wrote this correctly. Hard to
do. For me. Yes its true.)

This may mean that a very serious buddhist student seeks nothing boldly getting “somewhere”.

Its open, not for noninterpretation…
But for misinterpretation.

We all misinterpret ourselves.

So knock it off.

I am probably ahead of you.

I say all kind of crapola talk to get you in here. Crapola comes in all colors. Race is beautiful. Crapola is our Crayola color LACK Wish.

And it is said, where my Isa gave his true blood drink to guzzle and not sip ninny hi ho in chapel… drink, chug the blood of the sweet lord as if he were unforbidden fruit…

Crosses belong in shit fields, crooked, empty, at zero dark thirty three A.D.

Salvation belongs to people. Its gorgeoues. I am a vampire. I eat Jesus’s blood. Yum. Yum Yum.

I do not put real sanguine to my lips. Gross. But I am gross anatomy, babes. And so are you. Woo hoo. Its nothing you have not heard before.

I suffered today. But I bit my tongue. Figuratively. I had a terrible morning. But I hope you have a wonderful life if it just pleases you to know that I think Christianity is broke. But Christ was not christian. He was He-in. Like “He”. Oh forget it. You are all going to the big deep guzzler of hell. Kidding. Define ‘hell’.

Define, define
Detail, detail
True it up

Do you think I am kidding?
Does a writer have the ability to love you? What if he or she helps you save your own life, kiddos? Then YOU did it.

As for eternity,
if you want to
know about
it…
stick around
forever.

||||

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?

All this time I have been writing, and no one asks or notices?

Its in my art…

My art is not magic.

    Have you all simply failed
    to notice my Gestatisch
    presence?

You never meet me.
A likely excuse.

I shy from sunlight.

     Women look delicious. I do
     not say blasphemous
     words, do I? Well not
     before noon and supper
     feeding. Suppers.

I don’t feed on good
people.

I read the small blood book and memorized it until it becomes my skin painfully breathing FOR me in times and I am wretched. I am of the night in the “I in I” of ME

Låår Ies lives in the pit of my soulless soul heart and spirit turned sour- makes me sing of sweet viscerin, the dear illuminant beyond Rome’s oars aching, rowing forever.

I am one of the most powerful and if you call me good, or if you call me evil, YOU will be cast OUT.

No.

In 150 years- you. Me.
All on Earth now except for trees, jellyfish and… that very persistant species of turtle… will be no more.

Secret

Do you want to know a secret?

Never take no for an answer.

No is not.

There is “no” and there is no “no”. It is an “un-“.

Ecclesiastes:
“Nothing cannot be counted.”

This may mean that a very serious buddhist student seeks nothing boldly getting “somewhere”.

Its open, not for noninterpretation…
But for misinterpretation.

We all misinterpret ourselves.

So knock it off.

I am probably ahead of you.

I say all kind of crapola talk to get you in here. Crapola comes in all colors. Race is beautiful. Crapola is our Crayola color LACK Wish.

And it is said, where my Isa gave his true blood drink to guzzle and not sip ninny hi ho in chapel… drink, chug the blood of the sweet lord as if he were unforbidden fruit…

Crosses belong in shit fields, crooked, empty, at zero dark thirty three A.D.

Salvation belongs to people. Its gorgeoues. I am a vampire. I eat Jesus’s blood. Yum. Yum Yum.

I do not put real sanguine to my lips. Gross. But I am gross anatomy, babes. And so are you. Woo hoo. Its nothing you have not heard before.

Do you think I am kidding?
Does a writer have the ability to love you? What if he or she helps you save your own life, kiddos? Then YOU did it. As for eternity, if you want to know about it… stick around forever.

||||

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?

All this time I have been writing, and no one asks or notices?

Its in my art…

My art is not magic.

    Have you all simply failed
    to notice my Gestatisch
    presence?

You never meet me.
A likely excuse.

I shy from sunlight.

     Women look delicious. I do
     not say blasphemous
     words, do I? Well not
     before noon and supper
     feeding. Suppers.

I don’t feed on good
people.

I read the small blood book and memorized it until it becomes my skin painfully breathing FOR me in times and I am wretched. I am of the night in the “I in I” of ME

Låår Ies lives in the pit of my soulless soul heart and spirit turned sour- makes me sing of sweet viscerin, the dear illuminant beyond Rome’s oars aching, rowing forever.

I am one of the most powerful and if you call me good, or if you call me evil, YOU will be cast OUT.

No.

In 150 years- you. Me.
All on Earth now except for trees, jellyfish and… that very persistant species of turtle… will be no more.

Secret

Do you want to know a secret?

Never take no for an answer.

No is not.

There is “no” and there is no “no”. It is an “un-“.

Ecclesiastes:
“Nothing cannot be counted.”

This may mean that a very serious buddhist student seeks nothing boldly getting “somewhere”.

Its open, not for noninterpretation…
But for misinterpretation.

We all misinterpret ourselves.

So knock it off.

I am probably ahead of you.

I say all kind of crapola talk to get you in here. Crapola comes in all colors. Race is beautiful. Crapola is our Crayola color LACK Wish.

And it is said, where my Isa gave his true blood drink to guzzle and not sip ninny hi ho in chapel… drink, chug the blood of the sweet lord as if he were unforbidden fruit…

Crosses belong in shit fields, crooked, empty, at zero dark thirty three A.D.

Salvation belongs to people. Its gorgeoues. I am a vampire. I eat Jesus’s blood. Yum. Yum Yum.

I do not put real sanguine to my lips. Gross. But I am gross anatomy, babes. And so are you. Woo hoo. Its nothing you have not heard before.

||||

I Have Chosen To See The Dead People: WARNING GRAPHIC AND RECENT WAR VIOLENCE FROM SUICIDE BOMBS- this is 3… there are in the 1000s of such deaths in the PASS of KHYBER between Afghanistan & Pakistan. GOD BLESS THE FAMILY OF SHAKEEL AFRIDI THE NURSE AND SHOP KEEPER!!! PLEASE PRAY FOR YOUNG SHAYAN AFRIDI, ALL WHO HAVE FAITH IN HEAVEN’S WAY BEING higher !!

WARNING- this article contains war journalist photos out of Pakistan that have NOT been cleared. I run a risk of being an enemy to the state of Pakistan for publishing them here.

I will space this out some in case some of you are too horrified by what I show you.

A group can have a name.
It can be Taliban. It can be terrorist. Or Nazi. People who use violence and MAIM. They are sick:

Groups
Individuals
Spies
Governments
Fanatics

They have a SERIOUS ILLNESS. Just as one must amputate a GOOD ARM because of a BAD SHOULDER INFECTION… so has Pakistan’s beautiful, beautiful adult men and women and children had to
       Say

     “Goodbye”

And we wish it is peaceful and sweet.

I must show you hell, people.
Why? Because concealment is a type of lie.

In my mind I want to wash away fear… na na na na… like magic…

My brother…

Anger is not your face. Your thoughts for others were spun in the mind basket that is unraveled on a picnic couch that is your gurney

Red, yellow, blue plaid

This man had Asian descent.
Do you see an Asian muslim?
I do.

I am a man and I say I see lips a woman wife would kiss, but- he is beyond tomorrow.

A body is sandcastle coming undone. No hug is felt. It proves we love when we agonize our love one cannot feel. We don’t need their velvet skin hush cold unfeeling.

We need them warm.
Very simple.

I did see these persons today while conversing with my bro, Shak, in real time. There are 1000s of like-pictures of REAL people. Citizens near Afghanistan where USA troops WERE ALL LAST DECADE!! This is NOT being reported EN MASSE except right HERE on my unworthy small BLOG.

My grandfather, me being “Andy”, hi there, not to be a morose SOUL… my grandfather died young.

You can see INDIA in this man’s handsome eyelids.
Its OKAY to look, to stare.
He really WAS alive this year.
Our planet!
Do not feel bad.
You cannot hurt anyone to look at him.
You CAN hurt him more by looking AWAY! Yes- because WHO now will LOVE his loved ones but YOU??
You on the internet? Mostly NOT!

But if anyone wants to make a life for a boy named Shayan who has a rare disease that is NOT communicable, please let me know.
My friend Shakeel does not know that I am asking but he has said it would be better for his son in America.
I have the disease and I am disabled.

This is called FUBAR.

Its also called FATHERS LOVE

SHAKEEL:

Me to you
In front of the WORLD
I DO not give a hack what
    They think
I say YOU are The Best Father
   In The World of the
    Sunni Year “1435”

Although photos that are (obviously not photoshopped due to grating and specific heat burns from home made suicide type bombs)
they are not an
“in-person” view…

I DID receive the photos by choice to comiserate the experience with an RN bro of mine who works… AND lives… in Jamrud Bazar, a group cluster of shops in Khyber Agency.

I show you these men. Three. I want to let you know that these bodies belonged to men… all men HERE… who were husbands and fathers to children who had to say goodbye to them and feel the hurt of being disconnected.

Also, these men were killed violently. See that they ARE handsome, worthy of love, even as these are photos- you could probably see your own friend or family like this.

We are all made of stars and earth. When the stars call us home- you are assured that the form remaining is no longer inhabited. Some of what I call “small stars” of angel grace hold a human likeness to the cadaver which is truely not evil, but a GIFT to I.D. the body, person. Understand that.

You are seeing in all this post something so very horrendous that I want you to pray first or breathe before you step away and decide if this experience is for you or if you want to make a difference.

I tried to give this family a shot at the IV medicine I take but the CIA put a kabash on that. A kabash is like a schwarma only a kabash sucks. If YOU… YES, YOU… Would like to confirm this story, write me at

Harrison
10554 se Main
Suite 308
Milwaukie, OR 97222
Ans 503 943 0465

Please do not terrorize ME and give my address to the CIA in Langley, VA. The government is not thrilled that handicapped citizens try to help people who are neighbors to Taliban bombers in war zones. Every phone call is tricky for Shak- Shakeel has been harassed and threatened with death and kidnapping.

I would like to announce this is:

Projekt: Dinner Out
(Get Shayan & Family out
Of the war-corner of Pakistan)

I am thinking aggregate
direct
real

Let us make an offramp for just one family.

America USED Dr. Afridi.
Now pay back Pakistan, America… save the whole family of a man with the SAME NAME, but an RN not an MD. haha. Its simple.
And it would make QUITE a
story, NBC!

It is NOT a secret.
I want my friend Shakeel’s family paid for… with money contributions that you all know how to MAKE tax deductable.

To have a rare disease in war hell is to much.

Write to me like you mean it. I will give you young Shayan Afridi’s address and you can help his family out.

Special honorable mention to my brother Zahid. “Watch Shakeel, my brother, as he watches all of his lion cubs. Bless your cubs too.”

Pakistan Zindabad!!
(Long Live)

|||| end.

This is a picture of God, broken. You can see this picture was a mover. A person. A living sculpture…

	syntaxsinner on Redefining The Picnic
	Holistic Wayfarer on The Magestic Panda Suit
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Category Archives: English regrettable war moves top 100

T w i t t e r II: For “Rejects and Mofos”

Seven Mary Tree

C’mon, Andy- Just Land That On The Geist Zeit Strip!

Golden Gate Lemming Drops

If You Truly Are Worse Without Them…

I Just Wrote The Most Amazing Piece

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?

Taste It, Touch It, Did You Not Know I Am True “Maroon”?