Clean Your Wound and Live Your Lies

 

               I saw that you have been cleaning a wound with hydrogen peroxide.  You washed that wound.  That made me wish I had made that wound.  Think about it.  Hydrogen peroxide is just water.  Hydrogen paired with oxygen.  What I would do is I would cover that wound with Ferrous Oxide.  Iron is strong.  The Knights were protected with Armor.  I would use water with an Iron Catalyst.  You trust water!  I Rust Water!  Rust Whatever It Takes.

               As you come down, Incan Descend.  Me, I am an In Can Desk Scent.  You should just act Incan Decent.  Were you In Canada Sent?  That’s sweet of you, you Inch Candy Send.  I would do it but I was Un Connie Ment.  “Icon!” She Spewed. And “I Can’t” I Mooed!

               You kept bragging to  me “I Concentrate.”  Well, maybe you Concentrate But I Have Cement Traits.  You keep trying to send me to a camp, a Concentration Camp.  You Camp Kooks Among Us!  You just respond with “I correlate.”  Well, maybe you correlate, but I co- relate.  And My condor is hate.  My coral is late.  It must have been stopped by some blood or  in a flood.  Your corral is your faith.  I sure hate my fait.  Instead of living lavida loca, I am just giving Fatima Local.  And if she ate me, I am sure not Low Cal.  Or was she a Fat Ma Local?

               At that time the Staff Infector James Itchlow yelled at me, “You cannae derrve!  You lawst your swervers license!”  And I just sat back in the car and said to that Stuff Injector,  “Of course.  You’re a bunch o cops.   I would treat y’all to a few dozen photon torpedoes.”  Then that dejector responded to me, "Start calling a cab! (Derisive snort.) The best cure for this I know is a fully activated beer keg!"

               All of that was putting me into the State of Denial.  I began Denying that there were any laws in the State I am in.

               I felt like hitting him.  In my mind, I’m good at boxing.  Then I looked into the box and saw what Cat Man Do.

               Anyway, I asked,  “How is it outside?”  It’s supposed to be nice out.  At least it is supposed to be humid out.  Look!  There’s our neighbor!  It is Ahmed out!  I knew there were humans out.  Watch out for all those utilities!  I guess that’s okay.  It’s just that I am used to all these humilities.  And I know that you used all those humble ties.  So, it’s human out and I am humble inside out.  In my brother’s town it is Hempville Out.

               But maybe they were Russel Sprouts!  It’s a world full of Wrestle Sprouts.  Just remember to be A Stray Demon Ted!  We got to Fool Fill your request with our next Stupe that will be Water World.  Now, I said it “Will Be.”  I did not say it “Wood Be.”  Hear the squeaks?  Look!  There are a pair of meeces, see ‘em?  Instead, there’s that pair of Me!  It’s about time that You See Em!  And the past tense of Stupe is Stupid.

               Look at me!  I’m going as fast as I kick.  And look at yourself.  You’re going as fast as a psychic.

               You should say, “Excuse me for acting like an idiot!”  And believe me, you are not acting!

              

                                             Fog Hill or Foe Corn?

                                             It’s just

Nine Spy Try Fear

Pumpf Hex Even

And You Should

Open up your little ear

You’re just a Chicken Wiggen.

 

 

               I’ve been walking around this world for twenty years.  Some of my appreciations  send information to different offices, different companies, different clients, different stores.  Across state lines and country boarders and whatnot.  I have received several letters of hate, and I consider the safety of my useless data to be of a major concern.

               There are tools that various companies use with the general title of “Fund The President” or “FTP” for short.

               A cheaper version, usually downloadable for free, is available from many countries, for home use.  If the foot is too big for your snail system to handle or if you want the lies to be available to multiple useless people, but you do not know how to electronically correct them, this is available.  I would not use it to send out any personal or freedom information.  No socialist security in numbers.  No Charge Card identification.  And, now I am not a pervert but no sexually explicit photography or such information,

               At the streets there are tools that can encrypt the dates you are going on.  You inform, somehow, through phone messages or texts, what the derision key is, so that when the companion that is handling your back  wants to access your mind, they just need to be the type of this temporary weirdo so they can get on a date.  This provides a needed excitation level of severity to your communion.

               When one is first introduced to this level of closeness, one is told that this is a “Secured Life Transaction Protocol” tool.  Its short hand is “SLTP.”  Me, along with most people in this bees wax, call this tool “FTP” because we would only think of using the “Secured” version of any tool to transfer rules related to nay sores.  Nothing in this world is considered “Secured,” officially, or  informally.

               At one other time that I lived, I had a request to set up a life of  communism system for another departed soul.  As is the standard with any companion, I looked for and I went to get Operations, Departures and, Demonstrations.  People kept requesting their own “FTP” tool.  The person who requested this from me made me  spend an hour and a half lecturing some stranger that the “Informality we expect is lying and dull and must be transferred with ‘Secured Life Transaction Protocol!’”

               Oh, Star Wars!  Star Trek!  Star Bucks!  It is just Star Bunk!   They are just another bunch of Duck King Donalds.  On the Star Side, there go the Star Boards.  And that Drunk King just Goes Nuts!  If you are Kind to me, you definitely are not Kin to me!  You should just stay in your Star Craft as I Stray In My Stark Raft.

                                                               If you thought this was interesting                                                                                                                 Try reading some of THESE

Stand Up For Your Rights

 

               We really don’t know where we Stand.  We need to understand that it is our Feet that control Mankind.  We think we evolved our Brains.  We think we are the Brains of everything.  But your Brain is just a pair of dice.  Those dice thanks to your Feet, they make it look like Your Brain is making  decisions.  That Brain of yours said, originally thought that  your heart had feelings.  That is how you ‘described’ that you were caring.   You are really Carring.  Your Feet are Carrying.  You think that you wanted to be close.  Your Feet made you believe it was Your Heart. 

 And those Feet also want energy.  They are the ones that tell us to eat.  The Feet want themselves to be able to survive into the future, so they tell us to get married.  Why else would you ‘Walk’ down that aisle?  And those Feet decided who they want to live near.  Our Feet have been moving together to form our neighborhoods, our cities, our states and countries.  You do not admit that your feet are On This World.  The truth is, your Feet are this World.  Your diced up Brain tells you that you are Handy.  Well, your hands used to be Feet and the ones underneath them are the ones that taught them how to do things to please those smarter, ruling Feet.

               Your brain is like a switchboard.  To an outsider it tries to sound like it is making the decisions.  But it is just doing what your Feet tell it to do.  And if the decision is too low and meaningless to the Feet, those Feet let the Brain roll some dice to decide what to do.

               Just look aHead of you.  What do you see?  Those are not Foot Prints!  Those are the Foot Prince!  Let’s keep at it.  You’ll get a kick out of me.  It definitely is not the future we care about.  It is the Foot Tour. 

               And look around you.  You see Foot Twins and Fancy Feet.  Your life sure has it’s Feet Tures.  Realize it.  Everything has Feet.  How far did you just walk?  You just walked fifty Feet!  And if there was a smile, in that Mile was Five Thousand Two Hundred and Eighty Feet.  In grade school when you were taught about Six Inches.  You did not realize that your teacher was really commanding you to “Have A Foot!”

               Feet like to walk on boards.  How about that Chairman of the Board?  What does a Chair have?  All Chairs have Legs.  What do all Legs have?  All Legs have Feet!  That is how any group can be Leg Intimate!

               It is time to put your Best Foot forward.  Keep in mind that the Foot Hills are alive with the sound of moccasins.  You are best when you have your Foot in your mouth.

               Where did your religion come from?  How do you believe?  Do you totally believe?  Or do you Toe Tally believe?  For me my Toe nails it on the head.  Man has a sole.  Our soles are our Feet.  Read the Bible, it tells us that we all need Ark Supports.

               When you are presenting to people, you don’t want to get Booted off the stage.  Realize that  a mine is under ground.  That’s how you keep it in mind. And that ground is Under Your Foot.  Don’t believe that Soldier.  He’ll just burn you with his fellow Solders.  After a while they will have Sold Your away.

               When you start out fighting them you are a Tenderfoot.  You want to be a Bigfoot.  Butt all you are are a Barefoot.  You smell like a Footstool.  No wonder people keep you Underfoot.  If you knew how to fly away you could be a  crowsfoot wrench and be used to tighten or loosen fasteners in hard to reach places. 

               My Pal is a Hammertoe.  He has Awe Toe Motive.  People look at him and say “Toe Tally!”  He gives them a Sock in the Jaw.  What do secret agents swear?  Sneak Curse.!

               You have got to admit you are a foot.  Then you will Heel.  Your true religion.  Honor the Angels at any angle because they are all Ankles.  All those Sandals are just Scandals.  You don’t want to be Stranded.  You should just be Standed.  You don’t lose anything if you are Stood Up.  In school you should not have Studied.  You should have Stood Eked.

               Even now, on your computer, you need to ReBoot.  Insole.  Outsole.  Open your eyelids for your Eyelets.  You don’t need to face this world, you just need to Lace this world.  If you have a sofa, it needs your foot on, not a futon.  On TV don’t watch the Family Feud.  It is better if you watch the Familiar Foot.  All around us there is a blood feud, butt isn’t it really a  Bloated Foot?  Don’t keep worrying about Feudalism, just think,  “Foot All Is Them!”  And remember that a mollusk or a snail is just a foot.

               It’ll soon be time to Foot the bill.  And you don’t want your Feet to be  under another person’s spell.  Come On!  Put your Foot in the door.  We don’t want you on the wrong Foot!  I’ll just call you Lead Foot!

               Think about it.  In your camera you have Footage.  You’d love to visit the Toe Of Italy.  And that song is always on your mind.  “Tip Toe Through The Tulips”  So come on now.  Start to Toe The Line.  Treat life like a game.  It is Tick Tack Toe.  You want Sole Proprietorship.  And you will find out that “Sole” is Argentinian currency.  You are at new heights because the sole is the bottom part of a plane.

               You sure are a shoe in!  Don’t put up with that Misanthrope Evil.  You know that Missing Toe is Hell Full.  Life is all around us.  There, in the water!  It is not a Turtle!  It is a Toe Tis! 

In that Prison Yard you were commanded by those Three Feet.  And now, do you need your Foot Stool or your Foot’s Tool?  Don’t forget, the dictator of Russia is Footin!  And don’t lose your balance going Foot Silly at the Foot Salon.  Remember that country is not Afghanistan, it is Again I Stand!

               And everyone wants to be the Stand Ard.  It is just that some greedy liar created the Tell A Phoney to make people believe he walked to someplace, and they only hear him speak.  Well, that was attacked when some real soles stood up and created the Walkie Talkie.

 

 

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Solar Space or Seller Space

 

Honeymooners in Space

Universe 12, Planet 33

33^rd Chapter of the Stellar Bus

 

 

               As Ralph and Ed lined up in order to land their Gothic Space Bus, Ralph was  steering while Ed was using his binoculars to view the customers who will be boarding their transport. As they were landing Ed handed Ralph the binoculars and said, “Look at all those statues down there.”

               Ralph stared and said, “Yeah!  There is almost the same number of statues as the people who will carry them.  I don’t know where they are but our bosses said ‘They Paid!’  So, we gotta wait for them.”

               Ed took a reading once the ground was connected to their landing gear and said, “There’s about two hundred and fifty copper statues of things with two, four, and six arms.  About Forty-Three and Seventy-Five hundreds of a ton of them!”

               Ralph, “Well, I wish they’d hurry up and start carrying.  I just want to go.  I’ve never been impressed with this Lithospheric Magnesium Carbon TriOxide planet.”

               Ed, “Some people call it the Tetravalent.  Or some sort of Tets with a lot of Valence.  That last guy in the john I was cleaning said it was the Fullernes.  Of course, I thought he was still Full Of Ness.”

               Ralph, “Well, my boss told me to go here.”

               Ed, “I thought he said, ‘Go Hear!’”

               Ralph, “Yeah!   That’s why we flew through the Echo Gnome.  I had to turn us around all those Space Sonar Flares.  At last, I was able to Echo Land.”

               Ed, “You said ‘There!  That’s the Asteroid that is our goal!’”

               Ralph, “I said it was our goal all right.  But I said it was ‘Aster Noise’  A very Stern Noise!”

               It was a long wait.  Ed took a breath and began counting, “One, Two Three.”

               Then Ralph asked, “You Want To Tree?”

               After a while, Ed finished, “No!  Once Truce Threat.”

               Then Ralph said, “OK!  Let’s start getting these statues on board!”

               Ed carried two of them to their ship’s escalator.  Ralph tried to lift another two but ended up dragging the smaller one of those over two-hundred to their ship’s conveyor.  He dropped it as the machine started moving upstairs.  Ralph stepped to the side when he saw the Copper Man starting to move.  The Man thanked Ralph and said he didn’t know who or where to go and was happy that Ralph showed him how to get on.

               When they reached the Coach Door that person Ralph was loading kept walking in, after he left was when Ralph picked up his microphone and talked to the rest of the waiting (and weighted) passengers:

               “Good evincing, good oolitic, good undergrounding.  And for those of you with something coating around your heads, good pendant enhancing.  I’d like to say that my reason for working is making certain you are safe and comfortable and you get to where you want to go.  That’s what I’d like to say but I can’t.  I hope this is  where you want to glow.  To be quite honest, I glow when I get to make the money.  I should be quiet honest.  And I don’t mean digging up the gold.  That is too much work.   I mean to look like I’m doing something and have my boss give me the money for what it looked like I was doing.  This isn’t  the time to  be in a nest with anybody.  But it appears that you are all Copper Atom particles so you did not appear to be any body near me.  The altitude of your mesa had reached an opriating three-hundred and sixty-eight degrees to the absolving of cobalated electrons.   And boy do I enjoy my gobbling.  With that altitude, when we reach the eleven to the positive five thousandths or so, we will exit somewhere.  Or some hair.  Or at least some air.  Or was that ‘Excrement somewhere?’  Anyway, the farther should be sometime, one time is incremented.

               “Please enter using our walking steps.  This conveyor belt is also  available for those whose wish for an elevator, or to be thrown aboard.

               “I’d like to welcome you from Tetravalent.  After our usual sliced curve of time and space the Axiom will bring us to your requested Binary Hydride.  We are planning the landing you want on the Anaerobic Rocks in three quarters of a light-month.  That is where they are expecting you.  You are welcome to  their Azane Continent and will have a second stop at Pnictogen Hydride.  As my friends say, Ammonium is as Ammonium does.

               “Since we now got that all straightened out, you may call me Ralph.  I am your independent driver of this group of Omnibus Diverter operators working for the United Field Hyperbolics fleet of mass transportational devices.   Earlier a couple of you had been assisted by my buddy Ed.  You may have even seen me talking to Ed Norton, whom many of you have never met, his wife Trixie, and my wife, Alice.   And that is Alice, not A Lice, however, at times, I feel she is a bunch of lies.  I sure try to join her. 

               “Welcome.”

               As the customers boarded Ralph’s flight craft, Ed says to Ralph, “Copper is what their suits are made of.  I see that they contain powdered lead and aluminum and gold and silver and iron.  Some of those are radioactive elements.  None of the insides are copper, because they make their homes and protective clothes with copper.  Just like us humans.  We wear the skins of cows but we don’t wear our neighbors.  Or at least we do not admit it.  Copper also could have been another intelligent alien life that used to start fights with these  aliens.”

               Ralph answered, “I see that.  It looks like  they breath out of those copper cans of helium and hydrogen and  nitrogen and carbon dioxide copper  that they carry.”

               Ed went following some Coppers lined up in the hallway until he realized that those were the tubings for his bathrooms.  Trixie noticed him and said, “A timeless scream is a mindless machine.  Let’s handle this as us Honeymooners in space.  Sure, their Planet is of metals.  I’ll bet their Rusts grow as they grow older.  You’re pretty Rusty yourself.  And to me that is Pretty.  But, as in anywhere, Mixed Races, which appear as Mixed Metals, sure are stronger.  And I bet their Radioactivities fight each other.”

               Ed then asked, “Trixie, was that Polify?  Political Fiction?  Sometimes, what you really do is Buy Fi.  What you Buy is Fiction.”

               Trixie replied, “Ed, you are sounding like Ralph.  I hear you say ‘Our commands make us bestest.’ But what Ralph makes us the ones left out.  He just walks like he is full of gout.  All our tasks make him open his mouth.”

               Ed agreed, “We do it for pay.”

               Then some Technetium walked by and told them ,” Heart is made with Heat.”

               One of the Radiums joined in and said, “Mister we could use a man who’s a two bit trubidor again.”

               The Actinium replied, “By by this here awakening lie.”

               And Thorium said, “Gee our old last call was great.”

               Autunite pointed to Ralph and told his friend, “He Brives a Dus…He Dus Says A Brive.”

               That caused Brannerite to state, “He’s just trying to recapture his youth!”

               Ca-notite said, “If he keeps that up, he’ll lose his old age!”

               Monazite whispered, “If any of the Hue Moons get sick, it'll be our responsibility to go and exit them.”

               Bromine and Mercury then said, “Oh, that is a very important responsibility, Monazite.”

               Then one smashed his copper fist into another one’s back.  That started copper kicking in the head or copper throwing down the stairs.  In the middle of all the ragged copper there were piles of Chrysocolla dust mixed with Kyanite and Gabro in their little tetrahedrons.  Hematite here.  Mafic there. A bunch of Plagioclase.  And the surrounding Bauxites and Gibbsites and or course, Boehmite.

               Alice tapped Ralph on the shoulder as he was looking, and said to him, “In and Out?”

Ralph replied, “No!  I’m In A Doubt.”

               That’s when Alice explained to Ralph, “Those Copper suits and Copper bottles are the real intelligent beings on that planet.  They planned and factorized what they felt seemed like ‘living beings’ in order to farm them into something they could transport and sell.  A lot of their past was to breed different metallic dusts that we are bringing now to that watery planet where they can sell.”

               To which Ralph replies, “You are right, Alice.  All Really Right!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            If you liked this story                                                                                                                                     You can read some OTHERS                                 

Machine Works or Machine Nation

 

               I wanted a birthday party.  I got my own balloons and wanted to fill them with gas and have them floating around.  But, I couldn’t fill them with helium.  I found It was cheaper if I just filled them with hydrogen.  And then it became even cheaper because I got oxygen for free. 

               Oh, Mister who would elect a man like Spiral Agnew Again?

               And I got told to

 

                              Don’t have not Democratic States

Everyone who works gets taked

GOP our old Lost One is GAMAGREAT

And Again those are fakes

 

               When you feel good to abuse, you’re a hood who meanders!

              

               Then my wife starts singing:

 

Hate, Hate, Hate that husband who worked

Hate, Hate, Hate him while I treat him like a jerk

Until he’s again asleep

And once the time he’s awake

Fill, Fill, Fill his life with hate

              

               That caused me to join in:

 

Hate that guy for all his money you take

My wife hates me causing this marriage to pause

And I worked the jobs for this Mamma Claws

I’m sure not the sleaze that this marriage gnaws

 

It’s just easy to blame me and this marriage cause

And since I’m not allowed to have access to my wyfy

I have to live in the hive with the wifey

I hive ant anything

And I’m bad if I try to do any think

My life is commanded by Carolying Klink.

 

Now I want to share some Words to the Wise:

 

               I stand behind my word.  It protects me.  People stab at me and their knives stick in my word.  My word hides me.  My word disguises me.

              

               I sure stand by my word.  It is next to me.  My word is not me.  My word is my cane.  It is my prop.  It holds me up.  It robs me.  It does what it is Able.

 

               I am just a man of my word.  That means I am nothing.  I am owned by something.  I am owned by hot air.  I am owned by empty echoes.

 

               I give my word.  I don’t give anything worthwhile.  I don’t give money.  I don’t give food.  I don’t give a damn.  I don’t give my breath.  My word took my breath away. 

 

               This proves that Cigarettes Are Bad For Your Health

 

               And I just could not do it.  I tried.  I could not do it myself.

               I was holding up my end of that vending machine.  I tried to walk it.  You know, lift one corner up, arc it to your right, or to your left, which ever way to bring it further away from the corridor wall.  Then I had to go to the other set of corners.  I bent, grabbed, and lifted again.  See, I try to move that side away from the wall.  And I try to arc it again so I can continue in the direction of the steps from my original side.

               Now, I am not an old man, but, also, I am not an athletic type.  I have to move this machine!  This cigarette vending machine.  I have to move it into this corridor, this outside entryway to this restaurant.  The building’s owners are changing the walkway rug.  That carpet rolls inward from the outside entrance to the greeting seating area inside the restaurant.

               Here we are, in springtime going towards summer.  This walkway rug they are replacing is the fall and essentially winter rug.  It is thicker and sturdier.  It has to be sturdier because of all the slush and wet and harsh treatment from people cleaning off their boots as they step inside.  Both the current rug and its replacement are waterproof, but that winter rug have a thick rubber base and sturdy curled knitted fabric to wipe and adsorb your feet, your shoes on.  This rug that they are replacing it with is lighter in weight and lighter in color.  The topping is almost comparable to yarn.  That is a topping which I will vacuum clean at least a weekly basis.  Yes, I am the one who vacuums it.  As I am the one who will roll up that seasonal snow slush rug and send it to the cleaner.  As I am the one who will unroll the summer, cheery, leisure looking rug welcoming those guests, our guests, my guests.  That rug will be welcoming them to cooked meals.

               In reality, they are not really guests, since I, they, we expect them to pay for their meals.  Yes, I expect them to pay.  I am the manager of this restaurant.  No, I am not the owner.  Sometimes I am very glad that I am not the owner.  I am too young to think that this is what I want to be stuck with doing the rest of my life.   

               As I said, I expect them to pay.  Now if you are in your living room and you just brought out a platter of pot roast for your neighbor and his girlfriend to join you and your wife for the evening meal before watching the Hawks play on the television set in your living room.  Do you collect money from them and hand them a receipt?  And then grumble to yourself about the cheapness of the tip that they left you?  And your cook doesn’t even get a tip.  No tip at all.  But they are your guests.  You do not charge your guests. 

               So, the people eating in my restaurant are not guests.  They are customers.  Unless I am feeling like helping a poor homeless family stay alive for another day.  But that day was yesterday and today I need to move this cigarette machine.  The guy that we hired to wash our dishes thankfully offered to help me.  He took the one corner and I took the other.  We lifted.  We staccottically stepped down the hall with the target of setting it down on a non rugged area that was close to the cashier and next to the restaurant’s wall.

               Unfortunately, as we were sliding this cigarette machine closer to the wall so we don’t block or dismay the possible paying customers trying to enter my restaurant, I had let my head bent down as the dish washer and I arced the machine, feet side first and then top, closer to the wall.  That was when my head got cracked from the swaying metal dispenser slamming against the bricks holding up the restaurant.

               To finish, and I do mean finish, I died.

               I am amused.  I died because of cigarettes.  I ask myself how many other people died from puffing on cigarettes.  And I was so weak that I was puffing at that time.

               And something is fishy.

                              Like a Sturgeon

I was Caught for the fifth or sixth time

Like that Cheese Man

Cutting Cheese all those times after times

And you know, Oh those Beans been mine!

I hope you like my writing                                                                                                                    I've got more WRITTEN