Varied material

 

All the Happy Happy Dogs. 

Now I have Johnny Depp covering Jimi Hendrix onstage with Jeff Beck, made the woman stop talking shit, and now she pays and he parties on, hell I would too, but he played a rat cop so I worry just a little about him.   She has ruined him, hahaha except for in nightclubs and a Christian Dior contract for a poster boy, then a remake of Hunter's last hallucination. On tour with some of the best musicians still here.

  She could have had more fun with him than she will without, I bet. 

Now, this is about mules, I had another insight about mules again, what does it mean?

Once, up in the mountains of Mendocino County, where I went up to clean weed with the only hippie from New Zealand and Todd Mastermind. I met one named Jacob that I made friends with who got me meditating and following me around making noise in his throat, stood outside my spot as I slept and slept too. I told him about sex because otherwise, he would have never known. He lived with TeePee Doug, a fine man and quality farmer up along the creek, got killed in a car in New Zealand, just like Owsley did in Australia, good men that died with their boots on, let their lives unwind by their own design like Neal Cassidy said to, he died by the train tracks in Mexico, no mules involved.

Mules get a fair shake because they work. Donkeys, Burros, they fight and argue first, then maybe they will help, but they don't work. Mules work. 

Tom Waits, who I inadvertently insulted unintentionally once, he likes mules, he has a record with a mule in it is why I say that. What if you had to write period instead of just abbreviating it,  would there be less writing going on...

 Now, on that one motherfucker, I have a Tom Waits Sticker in view on my "desk" because I am still sorry, man.

Is there an Asshole Deluxe  hall of fame? 

Where is the new Lewis Powell Happy Woman and Child Health Clinic and Co-Op in Dallas? The Miami branch? Cleveland?

The Black Panthers were some kind of serious people folks but they did not, could not of held a candle to the power unleashed on the good side of the world by The Women's Movement, and I am not talking about service to each other I mean the power to say no and be assisted with life on earth by the mystical side of things combined with dirty diapers and a part-time job so the kids., the kids, the kids, they always work for the kids....They absolutely rule, they are stronger and smarter than men if they want, never mind the genetics, they can be overcome, I know it.

No one else but the few intimately involved should be up in any ones face about these things,  they are none of the fucking rest of the world's business, men have to stay the fuck out of women's business, a level playing field is absolutely imperative if we are going to travel out where the Webb Telescope is looking and everyone knows it, how in the world can one not be pro-choice? Just that and let it go. I don't know, obviously I don't know but what about the kids... exactly the point, the kids. 

Not the effects of any of the rest of it compare to one crack baby having to go through that, fentanyl babies, heroin babies, unwanted and un understood babies seems it all comes down to slavery again, some white rich people acting like rulers but they are just barely holding on making them so dangerous right now. I bet these pro-life rich bastards get their pets fixed.

 Oath Keepers have conquered Miami, Dade county, like the Colombians did in the eighties, remember?

Bill McKibben, who talks about the suburban peace of Lexington Mass. just like the one I had living that life in Braintree, or at least trying to. It made him political and me mad. Marine Corp High School. Not me, sucker. I had the game, the Amerikan one, down at ten years old, so fuck you. I beefed with the school admin, a reputed "once was a marine" bastard who threw a rock at me when he couldn't catch me.

My father told me not to go, too. He wouldn't let my brother Johnny join either, in 1965 he knew where they would have sent him, he had enough juice to put a kibosh on that but he never said so. Johnny never got drafted either, and everyone healthy and male that graduated from high school in 1965 had a good chance to go to Viet Nam, whether they wanted to or not. My excellent guy of a big brother I barely got to know was saved by a celebrated warmonger who worked for the government he believed in, the patriotic my country kind of patriot, loved it in Albuquerque and on Tarawa and then on Saipan, and saved me, too, just took a while..but finally, the decency inherent yet smashed back by patriotism and duty and way too much war, another dog-loving man, my father. He was quiet about it, but he knew what was going on in Nam....

I think Jack paid a visit to the recruiter in Albuquerque, I think that because that's what I would do, or leave the country with my kid so they can't get him. I was going to help my sister desert, she didn't want to, but the Army did her wrong, bad men in the office, colonel's secretary bullshit.

She came back from Hawaii still in the military and married to one of the scariest mad dogs I ever rode with. I picked her up at the airport in SF and she hung out for five days with me, which was great until Art showed up, her husband. I went to Washington from SF with them to keep an eye on her in case he snapped, a professional and comfortable mass murderer with a license to kill and I know Art killed a lot, he told me about a few on the ride. Phyll just looked out the window.....Art sharpened his knife, a big knife, and looked around dreamily, he was a celebrated pro special forces guy....I had a 32 in my pocket with hot loads, I was afraid they might explode they were so tough, but I didn't need it. 19 HOURS, 19 of them, in a car with them, my silent sister and the killer from hell and me. It would have taken one in the dome to put him down, but so what, I can shoot like a motherfucker, in close like that, he would be mine.

I didn't want to but I was afraid for my sister, I would have never met the guy otherwise. I do not know what happened to him, but Phyll is top shelf, the best. I have never shot anyone, still. I have a list but it would take a lot, everything I am, because the things I would cap off would get me killed, too.

So, there's that about that. 

JD and his,'ahem." attorney

The dude has his own shit, he does not hurt anyone he can avoid, they may hurt themselves and act as if they do on his account but it is not on him, he is a happy little dope fiend living the dope fiend dream, I don't care. I wish I could hang out with Jeff Beck, we both like hot rods, he races them, on the sly.......

A funny ass morning this, I wanted to rant about the republican shit machine we got here,

and instead, I got this memory or that, so I am going to use them and then, go to work and ask questions