Whad Up World.
Hope Your World Is As Soul And Spirit Beautiful As Mine.
Before I put this show on the road. A short journey down a personal recent occurance in my life.
I live in the hood, in a historic 58 year old, large apartment complex,
Completely remolded to current day standards,
Brand new central a/c., appliances, new tile and carpet, cabinets. Beautiful.
Non the less, the hood.
For myself, I like living in the the hood for the bang for my buck factor.
I’m 4th floor poolside.
Lotta Veteran friends. We most assuradly have each others 6.
So, this story, this evening came about while listening to music with my future wife, the Gorgous, Lovely, Oh So Beautiful, my Angel, Ms. Sherill.
Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm.
When we first met I was completely, literally, blown off my feet.
For you see, walking this toxic rock going on 70 years, I never encountered such female beauty
I actually told her, that day we met, that I could not even come close to describing her immense beauty in any earthly human words.
As she later revealed to me, she had waited 15 years to be with a man again.
My self, celibate at that point in time going on 11 years.
We’ve been together now close to a year.
We will be together till the end of our lives.
Talk about made in heaven.
So, we love music.
Jazz. Blues. Aretha. Gospel. Santana.
Being of the same mind set, we really dig the hell out of Frank Sinatra.
Unfourtunly, due to restricted vision and the fact that I am now writing on one of my Androids, for the fact that these devices are the only way to clearly see enough, allowing me to lay down these very peckz.
I can see due to the keyboard and black back ground.
Henceforth, graphics and music at this particular space in time are seemingly above my paygrade.
So, about 15 minutes ago we closed down the stereo Apple Folio after dancing for the past several hours. As it is now way past 00:00 hours.
We as well usually end with Elvis Presly.
The last Elvis song was ‘Jail House Rock’.
Henceforth, tonights story.
Did I mention. I live in da hood.
Now my neighbors next door to me, east side.
Two hard working young men, have a dog
Jacks, the dog.
Half Great Dane. Half Pit Bull.
Now when people walk by that apartment, if Jacks is picking up a nasty vibe, Jacks will bark.
At times, seemingly, about ready to burst through the ceiling to floor Venitian Blinds and giant picture window.
In fact, a while back when they installed the beautiful new steel security doors, with the 21st century card keys, I watched dude extract the old thick wooden door in Jacks apartment.
That wooden door, had been pawed out by Jacks just about an 1/8 of an inch from the front part of the door.
So this past Friday, from around 14:00 I’m on the phone with the Opthomologists office.
For myself, I would most definantly prefer French kissing a filthy water rat than deal with a doctors office.
Time. Going on 15:45 hours.
Maintaining my laid back composer.
For sure on the launch pad.
Engines not engaged.
Fuel trucks in the distance, but approaching launch pad.
On and off hold so many times I lost track.
Then it happens.
While on hold again, I hear an induvidual walking by Jacks the dog’s apartment, banging on the window.
More than several times.
Jacks is lit the hell all the way up.
In the vain of one jacking off a giant grizzley bear with pine needles.
I open my door. Standing in my door way, on and off hold.
The induvidual, pounding on Jacks window is one of the resident crack hoes.
Lost in the back and forth, antagonizing Jacks.
I calmly tell crack hoe to cease and disist.
Fuck your muthu fucker.
I’m still on the on and off hold pattern with docs office.
Yo. Girl. Knock it the hell off.
Fuck you piece of shit.
Rocket Fuel trucks at this point have dis engaged their hoses from the rocket intake ports and are pulling off the launch pad area.
Girl, you need to knock this shit the hell off.
Fuck you muthu fucker. I’ll fuck you up.
Rocket engines fire up.
Severe PTSD kicks in.
Houston. We have lift off .
Copy that Canavaril.
South Central, L.A. lingo ignites.
Yo. Bitch. Knock it the fuck off
Call me a bitch one more time I’ll fuck you up.
Fuck you nasty ass filthy crack hoe bitch and your pig face fat ugly mama.
Now I’m still in my door way.
Black 501 Jeans.
Air Force Survival Knife, sheathed and strapped at my side, on my belt.
Bitch, knock this shit off.
Call me a bitch one more time I’m gonna fuck you up.
Yo. Bitch. Kiss my ass.
She walks up to me in my doorway, stands before me.
Whad up crack hoe bitch.
She walks away.
At that precise moment Lady at the doctors office informs me that she will get back to me on Monday.
I need to chill.
I pop a Long Horn Winter Green pouch into my mouth.
Starting to wind down. Right?
Then it happens
Wham Bam Bam Bam Bam. On my front door.
I glimpse out through the cracked Venitians.
Now I can see forms, Just not definition.
I see a big white boy, in a big red T-shirt.
I believe I mentioned I live in the hood.
Bettet know the dress code. The B’s and the C’s.
As well, I stand 5 feet 5 inches. 144 lbs.
So, I calmly grab my 23 inch, sheathed military assualt knife, sheath snap dis engaged.
In my right hand, my 1911 A Colt Semi Auto.
I calmly open my door, never venturing past the outside perimetor of the door way.
Big white boy now leaning against the railing of the balcony walk way.
What cha want punk ass faggot bitch?
Fuck, you have weapons. I’m calling the police.
Fuck you faggot punk ass white boy.
He quickly departs. I close the door. Lay down my weapons.
On rocket fire Code 3.
Drop another chaw in my mouth.
I step outside to spit, my Marine Corps Brother Larry is outside of his apartment on the other side of the pool, same floor as me.
As well his next door neighbor, Army Ranger Rick is outside.
We all homies.
Larry says to me Ryan, be calm Lt., Just go with them. Don’t do anything. Or just go back inside.
I’m all up in the WTF’s.
Standing on the side of the pool, around the barbacue are 7 Tucson Police Patrol Officers.
I’m cool. Many TPD friends.
Got no problem with Poe.
They command me to come down stairs.
No problemo Amigos
They track me as I descend the stairs.
Hitting the last set of stairs, I extend my arms up in the air and motion with my head to the sheathed Air. Force Survival knife on my belt.
I hit the ground, calmly standing there, hands in the air.
One cop lowers my arms and Cuffs me.
Another cop removes the sheathed Air Force Survival knife from my belt.
One of the Patrol Officers reads me my rights.
I ask if I’m under arrest. Cop tells me no.
So there is legally blind me, cuffed, sitting on the steps, basically smoking and joking with Poe.
No shoes, no shirt.
Another Patrol Officer asks me my apartment number and if the weapons are present in my apartment.
I respond affirmative, that the door is open and said weapons are on the couch.
Keep in mind that at this point I am not under arrest, for that is what I am being told.
So there I sit chewing the fat as it were with the other Cops.
After about ten minutes the other Patrol Officer returns from my apartment with said weapons, my black flip flops and my black zip up hoodey.
I’m like o.k. Something for my barefeet and my hoodey to keep my little blind butt warm on this chilley desert day.
I stand up, cuffed and thank Patrol Officer for bringing my flip flops.
Cop tells me he is going to read me my rights.
I inform him that my rights have already been read to me by the other Cop.
Patrol Officer informs me that I am under arrest and he is taking me down to county jail.
I ask arresting Patrol Officer if he would be kind enough to go back up to my apartment and grab me my black Nike slip on’s.
He returns, I slip on the Nike’s, off to jail my blind ass goes.
Bare chested. Cold. And having to urinate like a race horse.
Fact of the matter, my research revealed that from 1775, when Tucson, Arizona was Incoporated, until this past Friday.
I am the very first blind person to be arrested by TPD.
I’m famous. Gonna go down in history.
I surely digress.
Patrol Officer secures me in the black and white Tahoe.
Off to county jail we go.
So were talking, I’m all calm and laid back.
Talking with each other about what has taken place that late afternoon.
How I never left the perameter of my door way.
We pull up to a stop light.
Patrol Officer looks back at me and states;
“Look. I get you to jail by 5:45, you will make night court by 8pm., you will be released tonight. You need to learn a lesson. This lesson being that next time this happens, you are to call us”.
I was released at 23:53 hours. Called V.I.P. Taxi and home I went.
For the most part, jail was cool. Jail being jail and all.
All these dudes kept asking me the entire time how I was able to remain so calm and laid back.
It’s most definantly a Marine thang.
Calm under fire.
Guess old dawgs can learn new tricks.
I’ll mention at this time that said Patrol Officer has been more than instramental in clearing out the several crack, meth and heroin den’s in this complex.
Thank you Sir for schooling this lil ol blind man.
Your a good Cop and a great man.
Stay safe Patrol Officer. Semper Fi.
When I was released later that evening.
Still had those two Long Horn Wintergreen pouches in my grill.
There ya have it.
Now on with the show.
Mama Mama Look At Me.
Look What The Marine Corps Did To Me.
Made Me Lean And Made Me Strong.
Made Me Where I Can Do No Wrong.
Over The Many Years Walking This Fiery Toxic Rock, The Above Cadence Has On It’s Own Morphed and Evolved Into;
Look At Me.
Look What LORD GOD Did To Me.
Made Me Lean And Made Me Strong.
Made Me Where I Can Do No Wrong.
I do my utmost very best on a daily basis to live up to the above.
I ain’t gonna lie.
There are times I fall way short of performing to maximum level.
Walking this toxic rock about 70 years now.
I can sincerly state that I have never in my entire life witnessed the devision and decention that I am witnessing today in America.
For me and mine.
This elevated division is what exactly, me and mine witness when we deploy on a set mission to tip the scales one way or the other, depending on the particular end game we are there to iniciate.
In America, this was never meant to be.
But as a nation, a Free Republic, we were warned in regards to Political Parties of all sorts.
General/President George Washington, on that Saturday in 1796 when he gave his farewell speech.
Wherein he stated, emphatically, actually warning this country against Political Parties of all sorts.
His words have never rang truer to me.
“I Seriously warn this country against Political Parties Of All Sorts. For Political Parties Serve Only One Purpose. And That Purpose Is To Devide A Free Republic In Hate. After A Time, One Political Party Accumulates More Wealth And Power Than The Other, Overwhelming A Nation “.
Look Around America.
For myself, my mind boggles at the literal Billions of Dollars that are thrown freely about by this Political Party or that during elections.
The spin rotating at mutiple mach speed.
Leaving ‘We The People’ to figure it out, along the line of spinning that wheel in Vegas, hoping we hit that seemingly magic number square on the money.
What General/President Washington could never even imagine in his wildest dreams is the digital world we occupy today.
Literally moving quicker at times than sound.
On our phones.
Imformation coming at us in an L.A. lickety quick sequence.
The masses are told history plays no part in todays world.
Facts are scrubbed, scribbled and re-written.
To promote what ever politicaal slant that is being driven home by whatever shyster polititian in their quest for votes.
Here in Arizona, newly elected Senator Kristen Sinima has already stepped back on two of her campaign promises.
Nothing new here.
Ain’t that right, Political Hoe Sinima?
For myself, doing what I have done while in the service of my country.
Fully aware of the projected outcome of designated mission.
I am witnessing a country on the precipice of implosion.
As President Abraham Lincoln stated;
“A Country Devided From Within, Will Fall From The Destruction Of Enemies Without”.
We there America.
Wake Da Fuck Up.
That’s All I Got.
What Up World?
The Best Of The Most Beautiful Best.
I Hope Ya All’s World Is As Soul And Spirit Beautiful And Content As Mine.
Pull Up A Chair.
Cop A Squat.
Strap Yourselves In.
Gonna Be A Long One.
The Indian Warrior Chief Sits Calmly Upon His White Stallion Steed, Up On The Cliff Overlooking The Valley.
His White Stallion Steed Faithfully Calm Before The Ensuing Storm. For Sure Not His First Rodeo.
The Warrior Chief Lost In The Meditation Of His Fathers, Reflects On The Many Battles Waged Over A Lifetime.
Instinctively He Knows That The Ensuing Battle Off The Short Horizon Will Most Certainly Be His last.
As This Calm Nano Flash Frame Races Through The Grey Matter Channels Of His Mind, His White Stallion Steed Lowers His Massive White Head, Shaking His Long White Mane, Thumping The Ground With His Right Hoof And Blows A Hurricane Force Blast Of CO2 Out Of His Massive Nostrils.
It Has Come To Pass.
Great Warrior Chief, Fully Aware Of His Destiny Path, Understands That He Will Soon Be Joining The Spirits Of His Great Warrior Chief Fathers Who Came Before Him In That Calm, Peaceful Meadow, Butterflies And Brave Beautiful Spirits Abound.
It Has Now Surely Come To Pass…
Blissfulness… Then Darkness…
The Freedom, From The Burden Of The Flesh.
The Relevancy Of Time Reduced In less Than A Nano Flash Click To Less Than Dust Floating Down The Tranquil Waters.
Everything And All Of A Tortured Realty No More.
Set In Motion Over Years And Years Of Sworn Of Faithful Duty.
The Job Now Complete.
Retirement, All That Is Left On The Bright, Fading Horizon.
Fade To Black.
“Mr. Donovan. Can You Hear Me”?
“He’s None Responsive”.
“I’m Picking Up A Beat, Faint, But There”.
“Mr. Donovan, Mr. Donovan, Hang In There Mr. Donovan. Hang In There…”.
“Shit. Gotta Pulse, Barely. Shit.
“Mr. Donovan, Mr. Donovan…”
“Shittt… Were Loosing Him. Come On Mr. Donovan… Hang In There. Shittt!!!…”
“My, My My. The Beautiful FBI Special Agent (Retired), Ms. Veronica Lake And The Lovely And Shapely Queen Of Flagstaff, Ms. Sweet Sweet Loraine”.
“Well, Well, Well. If It Isn’t The All Elusive Mr. Ryan Sean Donovan In The Sexy Flesh. How’s It Hanging Recon Marine”?
“Just Fine, Ms. Sweet Sweet Loraine. Nice To See You Too. Looking As Luscious As Ever.
“I’ll Take That As A Wink And A Nod. Play Your Cards Right Big Boy, We Just Might Be Riding Off Into The Sunset Together”.
“Well Damn. I’ll Just Hold My Breath”.
“Go Right On Ahead Handsome”.
“Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm. My My My, How You Lay It On”.
“Only Know One Way Cowboy, Hot And Thick”.
“You Best Slow It On Down Ryan. You Gotta Lot Splaining To Do. You Ain’t Sweet Talking Your Way Out Of This One”.
“Always The Serious Temptress Special Agent Lake”.
“Where The Hell Have You Been? All Your Numbers Have Been Disconnected. Without A Damn Trace Ryan”
“Phew. Whoa. Miss You Too Girl”.
“I’m Gonna Knock You Out On to The Ground Marine”.
“Damn V. So Damn Serious”.
“Been A Lifelong Knuckle Head. I Worry About You Ryan. All The Damn Time. You Have To Stop All This Elusive Crap. Always Up In Your Own Little World, As If No Other Whelm Even Exists. So… Where Have You Been”?
“Uhhhh. Ummm. A Retreat”.
“Yeah. Makes Sense. It Has Been About 2-3 Years Since Your Last Retreat. I Assume You Are Good To Go Now Mr. Donovan”?
“Yes Mamm. Straight Up On The 100. Good To Go. Are You Back With Doc Blaisedale”?
“To Paraphrase Your Hood Lingo. Hell Naw. Fuck Dat Bitch. Me And My Glock 40 Chased
That Two Timing Faggot Bastard Out Of My House Up In The Sedona Hills. Now My House, Along With The Range Rover, 3 Million Cash, And, As Well, A Brand New Mercedes White C63 Convertible Sittin On Chrome”.
“Damn Girl! You Fleeced That Woolly Lamb”.
“Lying, Cheating, Double Timing Bastard”.
“Danm V, Don’t Hold Nothin Back Now. Moving Right Along”.
“As Well Ryan, I’m In The Process Of Moving A Roommate Into The Upstairs Bedroom Over Looking The Sedona Mountains”.
“Wow. How Cool. Balcony Over Looking The Majestic Mountains. Who’s The Lucky Individual”?
“A Very Old Dear Friend Of Mine I Met Surfing On Santa Monica Beech When We Were Both 13 Years Old”.
“Your Moving In Ryan. Rent Free, My Dearest, Oldest, Handsome Friend”.
“Well, We’ll Talk About That”.
“Nothing To Talk About Ryan. It’s A Done Deal. Time For You To Hang Up Your Saddle And Settle Down”.
“Look V, I Have things To Do. As Well, For The Time Being I’m Cribbing Up Here In Flag”.
“Well… If You Need Know…”
“I Need To Know Cowboy. Pronto”.
“Damn V. You In A Narley Ass Mood”.
“And… As You Always Say, Where You Cribbing”?
“Shit Veronica, Need To Know Basis”.
“Guess What Cowboy, I Need To Know”.
“Give It Up Ryan. Now”.
“Awaight. If You Must Know. I’m Staying With Tula”.
“TULA! TULA! Fuck That Hoe”.
“Damn Loraine. That’s Not Nice”.
“I Second That Ryan. Fuck That Hoe”!
“Damn Girls, What’s All The Hate Down On Ms. Tula”?
“Ryan. This Is Not Right. I Introduced You To Tula. This Is Wrong Ryan”.
“Look Veronica. This Thang Just Happened Out Of The Wild Blue. Besides, There Is Nothing Going On. I Am Happy To Say That I Am Still Celibate, Now Going On 10 Years. Tula And I Have Much In Common As We Are Both Writers And She Is Assisting Me With A Book Deal. That’s It. Nothing Else. She Is As Well Celibate A Lifetime Too”.
“Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. What Am I Going To Do With You”?
“Look Veronica. This Is Just Short Term With Tula. Until She Helps Me Finalize A Book Deal. As Well, Sharing Your Sedona Home Is Long Term. Just A Little More Time. O.K”?
“Always Your Way Ryan”.
“Damn V. Don’t Look At It Like That. We Have The Rest Of Our Lives. Awaight”?
“Yes Ryan. Alright. Let Me Have Your New Number. I’ll Contact You Later. Loraine And I Are Driving Up To Jerome For The Day. I’ll Contact You When i Get Back”.
Veronica Hands Me Her IPhone. I Punch In My New Number.
“Sounds Good Veronica. Here’s My Number. You Girls Have Fun Up In Jerome”.
That’s All I Got.
“Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.”
Master Sun Tzu
My First Shout Out Goes To The Dedicated Loyal Men And Women Of The Tucson Police Department.
When It Comes To Accomplishing A Whole Lot More.
With A Whole Lot Less.
T.P.D. Epitomizes And Represents The Absolute Best.
Undermanned 400 To 800 Street Patrol Officers On Any Given Day.
Patrol Officers In This Red Hot Desert Environment Answer The Call In The Number One Most Dangerous City In The State Of Arizona.
Not To Mention The 4th Most Dangerous City In The United States.
T.P.D. You Guys And Gals Rock.
Doing Your Utmost Best To Keep Citizens Safe Here In ‘The Alley‘.
For You See America.
Of The 100% Of Illegal Drugs Manufactured In This World.
America Consumes 80% Of Those Illegal Manufactured Drugs.
75% Of That 80% Of Illegal Manufactured Drugs That America Consumes, Makes It’s Way Through ‘The Alley‘ To Be Distributed Throughout The United States.
For You See, Tucson, Arizon, Is What Tucson Law Enforcement Refers To As ‘The Alley’.
While T.P.D. Battles Cartel And Their Distribution Of Illegal Drugs Here In Tucson, Their Mission Forward Is Keeping The Citizens Of Tucson Safe.
Not To Mention The Various Gangs That Reek Havoc On This Quaint Desert Mayberry.
If All That Was Not Enough.
Now Throw Into This Criminal Mix, Tucson Is The Drop Off Destination For Convicted Felons From Prisons Spread Across This Free Republic.
Let me mention that Arizona’s number one industry is our prison industry.
Playing Into The 52% Factor.
The 52% Factor Represents The Statistic, Regarding The Realty, That 52% Of These Released Felons Into This Quaint Desrt Mayberry, Will Commit The Same Crime That Landed Them Behind Bars Or A More Serious Crime Within A Two Year Period.
To State That Under Manned T.P.D. Has Their Hands Full Is A Cyclopean Understtement.
911 Calls Into T.P.D. Are Most Defiantly Prioritized Due To The Severe Problem Regarding This Under Manned Police Force.
Now, Take Into Consideration The Mass Amount Of Illegal Drugs And Serious Criminals Breaching Our Border.
Why Is This Even A Question, Much Less A Cry For All The Poor Imigrants From 3rd World Impoverished Countries Wanting A Better Life?
Every Night In This Great Country, Over 1 Million American Children Go To Bed Hungry.
Throughout America’s Hoods And Ghettos, On A Daily Basis, Innocent People Are Cut Down In The Street Like Rabid Dogs By Assorted Gangs.
Chicago Leading This Blood Bath Insanity, Where Just Several Months Ago, A 2 Year Old Childs Life Was Cut Short By The ‘Maniac Latin Kings’ Street Gang.
Who Basically, To A One Crossed Over, Breaching My Southern Arizona Border.
Without Mentioning Any Names Of These Arizona Border Towns.
3 Of These Small Towns Have Absolutely Zero Border Protection, Providing Free Entrence To Any And All Criminals And Drugs.
Hear The Damn Pop.
That Most Descernable Sound One Hears When Their Head Exits Their Anal Cavaty.
I Mean Really.
American Suburban Democrats And Republicans.
Do You Want These Border Breaches In Your Up Scale Hoods.
Didn’t Think So.
This Latest Caravan Of Free Loaders Are Heading For The Tijuana Border To Cross Into Cali.
Trust Me On This.
There Are Most Definantly Mid Eastern Terrorists And Dangerous Criminals Along In This Illegal Ride Across My Southern Border.
A Caravan Originating Out Of Hondoras And El Salvador.
Can Y’all Spell MS13?
I State This As Fact For The Reason That Over My Many Years Here In The Desert I Have Personally Met Individuals From Various Mid East Countries Who Told Me, How With Their Phony Documents They Easily Passed Into Arizona Across The Mexican Border.
One Of These Individuals, A Former Pakistan Amry Officer, As Well Former ISA Information Officer, Offered To Me For The Low Price Of $250.00 American, He Would Happily Procure Those Exact Document’s For Me.
Now Add Into The Caravan Heading North For Cali, Financed By Commie Venezuela.
Collectively, Individuals To A One.
Who Will Be Granted Entitlements The Rest Of Us Americans Never Even Knew Existed.
All For One Reason.
One Reason Only.
That Reason, To Be Piled Sky High Onto The Cali Democratic Voting Block.
Nothing More Than Political Pawns.
Bought And Paid For By We The People.
Shameless Doesn’t Even Come Close.
Then You Have The Pundits.
Myself Never Identifying With Any American Political Party.
If I Was To Be Politically Labeled.
My Lean As It Were, Is Conservative Liberal.
In the sense that I do not engage in hate, vitriol, paranoia, fabrication to drive a senseless Political Point.
In the past I listened to conservative radio on and off.
Until the day my stereo radio up-chucked wires and components while tuned into the hyper engaged yelling and screaming of Mark Levin.
Henceforth, today my radio talk dial us programmed to my two favorite Broadcasters.
Stephen A. Smith and Coast to Coast a.m. George Noory.
Then there is talk radio Broadcaster Sean Hannity.
Sean Humanity’s on and on and on demeaning diatribe regarding America’s poor and less fortunate having to depend on EBT to supplement their daily nutritional sustanence.
A complete reprehensible shame on every level.
While Mr. Sean Hannity, by his acceptance of 90 MILLION $$$DOLLARS$$$ of HUD Loans qualifies him as the Biggest Welfare Queen walking this toxic rock.
HUD Welfare Used To Purchase Apartment Complexes In Georgia, Where Upon Taking Over, Mr. Hannity’s Represntives Served 400 Eviction Notices.
I Get It. No Rent. No Stay.
If One Is Residing In A Glass House.
One Surely Needs To Hold Back On Throwing Any Stones.
There Is An Individual Mr. Hannity Just Loves To Guest Feature On His Shows.
An Individual, Who Was Handed His Walking Papers Off The Sets Of Fox News And The White House.
A Man Who Epitomizes And Defines Nazi Jew Hating Dictum.
Who Has Absolutely Zero Knowledge Regarding The American Southern Border And As Well The Middle East.
But Don’t Take My Word For It.
Following Is What REAL MIDDLE EAST EXPERTS Think About The White House Fired Gorka.
In conversations with Business Insider, several national-security experts questioned Gorka’s credibility in their field, saying he is often dismissed as an outspoken conservative pundit who lacks the chops to serve in the highest levels of the White House advising on national-security policy. [Business Insider, 2/22/17]
Sebastian Gorka, President Trump’s top counter-terrorism adviser, is a formal member of a Hungarian far-right group that is listed by the U.S. State Department as having been “under the direction of the Nazi Government of Germany” during World War II, leaders of the organization have told the Forward. [The Forward, 3/16/17]
Terrorism experts, however, told CNN that Gorka’s experience in their field is limited. They point out Gorka does not speak Arabic, has done very little traveling in Muslim countries and has never worked in any official leadership or management role in foreign policy, intelligence or the military. While resumes have varied among White House national security and counterterrorism aides, Gorka lacks some of the typical experience for such a position.
More On Gorka The Nazi And The Unqualified Non Expert Regarding The Middle East.
Wake The Hell On Up.
That’s All I Got.
Anger Will Never Disappear So Long As Thoughts Of Resentment Are Cherished In The Mind. Anger Will Disappear Just As Soon As Thoughts Of Resentment Are Forgotten. Buddha
“The double standard is truly astounding,” Gresham told TheDC. “Time and again the Trump family and members of this Administration are subjected to false reporting, hateful rhetoric and outrageous lies all in the name of freedom of speech or comedy, yet the mainstream media stays silent.”
How Very True.
What Is Also Very True, Is That The Person Who Issued This Statement In Defense Of Ivanka Trump, Is A Person That One Would Think Would Never Come To This First Ladies Defense.
This Individual Crossed All Political Boundaries And Stuck Up For One Of Hers. Another Woman.
A Real Class Act. So, Who Is This Individual?
How Cool Is That.
Class Act All The Way Mrs. Obama. Thank You For Trail Blazing.
I Personally have Never Understood The Hate One Individual Has For Another Of The Human Race.
Over This Very Long Lifetime, I Have Seen Hate Coming And Going.
Based On Ignorance And Strong Feelings Of Superiority Over Another Human Being. I Have Also Witnessed This Hate Thrown Down In The Name Of God.
But I have to tell you.
In close to 70 years walking this toxic rock, I have never witnessed such hate & anger.
In my wildest dreams & hell bent night terrors have I ever witnessed such divisive hate between American’s over political beliefs.
I am witnessing a Democrat party, based on communist dictum and protocal directed word for word and actions taken verbatum, directly from Maos Hand Book.
Guess what angry commie mob morons. In Maos China, Y’all nothing but hog slop.
This is America. As such, hit the road Jack.
Don’t cha come back no more. Simple.
I am witnessing a Mob Caravan wheeling their way north out of Honduras up the South American shit hole alley into Mexico.
A caravan now numbering, I am told over 10 thousand people, threatening our country with entrence across our border.
A major Crime.
These are foreign nationals threating invasion across our border.
Don’t know about cha all. For myself, that’s an act of serious aggression.
In the sense of who the fuck are you.
Of course corrupt Mexico stands down.
All this in the name of American politics.
I can only conclude at this point in time, that todays entire Democrat party, at birth, rolled off the delivery table and plummeted, at rocket speed, 5 feet down onto the cement tile delivery room floor, landing squarely on their soft heads.
From my seat in the street, what America needs now more than anything, is their own style caravan, jam packed with today’s far left leaning Democratic Party, lead by Criminal Bill and Hill along side their water boy Barack.
Making their way across the Arizona border, down through South America to some commie shit hole to spend the rest of their criminal lives.
They will be escorted by the self displaced Hondurans.
It will only be at this point where America Will Be Great Again.
Y’all don’t like capitalism?
No problemo hombres.
See ya. Don’t let the door hit cha all in your obese deriers.
Going on one week now.
News up and down the dial.
Kashoogi, the Washington Posts part time opinon journalist, Muslim Brotherhood spokesperson, murdered, sliced and diced, then most likely stuffed into a dirty nastey maggot laced suitcase.
A very big fat non of ours.
Except for the fact that Turkey and Saudi Arabia are our allies.
One would think that would be that.
But oh the hell no.
Just another pawn for the Democrat driven, lying, corrupt American bought, sold and pimped media.
But not one word from these idiots regarding the many multible murders this past week of American Law Enforcement Personell, American Military Personell or one name of the multible murders in Rob Emanuals commie directed Chicago.
No Mr. President.
The American media is not this countries number one in main state enemy.
The true enemy is the Democrat party.
The good news in all of this, is shyster lying con attorney Avanatti is getting evicted from his office for non payment of 4 months rent and as well hit up by his former law partner for close to 5 million dollars.
Another Dem bites the maggot infested dust.
All I can tell you America.
Speaking to Real Americans.
Get Out And Vote.
There ya have it.
“So Mr. Donovan, where have you been for the last going on five months now?”
“Glad you asked lovely Ms. Tula. For the most part up here in this crib, except for trips to the store for groceries & such on the bus”.
“Hmmmmm. Don’t you have a driver?”
“I fired her. Don’t do ignorant and condescending. As well, due to her incompetence, I am just about legally blind as a result from cataracts. For what ever reason, this device is the clearest vision regarding any type of reading and writing”.
“Ryan. Why didn’t you say anything to anyone. Veronica, Myself, Loraine”?
“Well, this was no big biggy until my driver decided to take things into her own hands by some kind of rescheduling hokus pokus resulting in me now waiting until December to have the surgery. So here I sit.”
“You are so hard headed and stubburn.”
“I swear Ryan, you drive me to a place of where I want to loveingly hug and hold you and then bash your brains in with a bat.”
“Hmmmm. Wow. Talk about dycodomey. How do you think I feel. Brand new sleek Apple Keyboard Tablet standing tall and pretty, and I can’t even use it.”
“Ohhhhhh. You poor sweet thang. How about we take a drive over to the Orange Smoothie place and jump in.”
“Sounds like a plan Gorgeous. Got the new sleak sexy white rocket powered Mercedes coupe.”
“Roger that stud”.
“Yippee! Can I drive. Huh. Can I”.
“Come on knuckle head. Lets hit it. And no blind man. You may not drive”.
That’s all I got.
Tracking Here And There. Boots On The Ground. Cocked Locked Ready To Rock.
In Our Environment, Minds On Super Hyper Nano Mission Tick To Tock. Our Purpose Defined, Hard Stamped In Granite.
Then It Happens.
Mission Complete. Back To The World. Our Beloved Country And Home.
We Look Around.
Baffled And Lost.
The Very Civilians We Put It All On The Line For.
Steeped In The Comfortable Slant Of Fat And Happy.
Needle Buried All The Way To The Right In The Constant Whine And Complaints.
Lost In The Division And Hate Of Their Thankless Existence, Spouting Forth Hate, Blame And Regression At Our Country.
Clueless As Clueless Can Be To The Very Freedoms Afforded To Them. Opportunities Abound. But Oh The Hell No.
Lost In The Divisive Political Unrest And Oh So Buried In The Fog Of Propaganda Aimed From This Side Or That.
That Which Only Accomplishes The End Of The Road, Leading To The Path That Leads To The Freeway Of Self Implosion, While Our Enemies Watch In Delight Waiting For The Ax To Fall.
A Free Republic Brought Down Like An F16 Fighter Jet Catching A Surface To Air.
Nothing But Hate And Disrespect For Each Other.
Those Who Have Stood Tall And Served Without One Single Question Asked.
Proud And Honored To Keep It All Safe For Those Back Home. Commanding The Utmost Respect From Our Fallen Enemies.
Not At All Looking Anywhere, For Any Kind Of Acknowledgement, Recognition Or Benediction. Just Doing Our God Directed Jobs.
Our Up Close Personal Is That Of Walking Around The Zoo, Witnessing Spieces Who For The Most Part Appear Alien.
Our Government Fucking Us Over At Every Curve And Straight A Way.
Unable To Perform The Very Jobs They Were Hired To Do.
Instead Lost In The Greed And Irresponsibly Of Moving Up The Chain. Dereliction Of Duty A Cyclopean Upgrade.
People Whose Lives Have Been Spent In The Comforts Of Freedoms That A Mass Global Populous Can Only Dream About.
American Civilians Who Never Stepped Out Of Their Comfort Zone Of Their God Given Freedoms, While Around The Globe, In The Most Horrid And Desolate This Planet Has To Offer, 12 And 13 Year Old Children.
Wielding AK-47’s Just To Make It Through Another Day.
Feel Me? So Far?
Humans Living In Such Abject Poverty, That Daily Sustenance Is A Far Lost Forgotten Dream.
Following Dictum And Decree, That If One Utters A Sliver Of A Syllable Of Complaint And Disagreement, They Straight Up Smoke.
While Americans Sit Around Their 60 Inch Flat Screens Digesting Pizza, Hagen Daaz And Dolly Madison Pies, Complaining And Hating.
Having Served Our Country.
Now Ready To Virtually Start Over From Scratch To Build Ourselves A New Life.
Lied To. Scammed, Shamed To The Point Where Nothing Makes Any Logical Sense.
Honored And Proud Individuals To A One. Driven To A Level Of Dis Connection Beyond All Earthly Human Words. WTF!!!
Stranded At The Corner Of Disillusion Avenue And Whats The Point Boulevard, Our Only Solution.
A Kill Round To Our Heads. ShhhhhWham.
I Am Distressed, Sickened And Besides Myself. The Texts. The Calls.
“LT., Max Is Gone Sir. He Fragged Himself”.
“Jimmy Went And Did It LT. 45 Round Through His Head. Found Him In His Car”.
“Damn LT., James Leaped Off A 400 Foot Cliff”.
On And On And And Muthu Fuckin On.
Just Like Every Cluster Fuck With A Shit Storm Float, There Is That Thin Peek Thru Of A Single Light Of Sun-shines Bright White Light.
Before You Squeeze.
Find That Nano Click Of Reason.
Call This Number.
These Beautiful, Courageous, Dedicated Individuals Will Stay On The Line With You For How Ever Long It Takes For Total Resolve. They Will set You Up With Many V.A. Services On The Spot, Send Someone To Check On You Or Transport You To The Hospital And They Will Call You Back To Check On You.
You Can Tell Them Anything In Any Way You Feel You Want To Express Yourself. Cuss Words Not One Damn Muthu Fuckin Problem.
Let It Rip Soldier.
Lt. Begging Ya All.
I Get It.
Strung Out On Severe PTSD.
Un Earthly Night Terrors.
The Pitch Black Deep Deep Dark Dreams.
I Get It!!!
Own The Fuckin T-Shirt Factory.
One Corner I Just Can’t Stray Far Da Fuck Away From.
At Least, Just Give These Guys A Call.
Cause ‘I’m Gonna Tell Ya All One Thing For Sure.
I Know This To Be The Truth.
You Smoke Yourself.
You Coming Back To This Lower Earth Whelm Of Insanity In A Much Worse Off Life.
Trust Me On This.
In The All Of It,
This Ain’t Nothing But A Thang.
Feel Me? So Far? Soldier.
Cause I Gotta Tell Ya All, Lt. At His Very Thin Last Strand Regarding Any More Texts And Phone Calls Alerting Me To A Lost Man And Another Brother Down In The Senseless Mess Of It All.
And Marines, Now I’m Specifically Talking To You For The Fact That I Know Who WE Are.
Follow This Vapor Trail If You Will.
Several Years Ago I Was Down In Yuma, Arizona Visiting A Friend Who Worked At Marine Air Base Yuma.
My Friend, Ms. Abagayle Worked On Base In The Capacity Of A Psychotherapist. Now Retired.
We Were Walking, Talking And Chilling In The Desert. Quite Possibly She Saw Something In My Eyes.
She States To Me;
“You Marines Are Not Right, In The Way Of How You Think, Perceive And Analyze Situations. I‘ll Extrapolate. You Could Be In A Ferocious Fire Fight. Your Rifle Jams, You Run Out Of Ammo. Your Assault Knife Broken. You Find A Stick On the Ground, Your Good To Go. Un Stoppable. Then At Some Point In Your Life, For What Ever Reason, You Decide You Have Had Enough.”
At This Point In The Conversation, Abagayle Thrusts Her Arms Up In The Air, Fashions Her Hands Into The Shape Of Pistols. She Then States;
“Then You Get To This Point Where You Are Saying, Watch This, Fuck You. Bammm“.
“Your Overwhelming Pride And Chiseled In Stone Attitudes Of ‘I Got This‘ And Hard Headed Reluctance Fueled By Your Immense Pride Forbids You Guys To Reach Out And Ask For Help, That Jarhead Attitude Of Invincibility. Damn Stubborn Jarhead‘s.
So, My Brothers, Reach The Hell Out And Dial This Number;
That’s A Direct Gentlemen.
Cuz I Gotta Tell Ya All.
LT. Running Out Of Tears And Sorrow.
Just Damn Tired Of Attending Senseless Funerals.
Feel Me? So Far? Jarheads?
Ya All Killing Me.
One Last Thing.
LaBron LaBron LaBron.
Left To Right. Up To Down. All Da Hell Around.
LaBron This. LaBron That.
What LaBron Do?
What Cha All Want from LaBron???
LaBron Is Great.
He Steps Out On The Wood, Ready To Play.
The Very Absolute Best That He Got.
Playing Hard 1st To Last.
Basically On His Own, Alone.
So Damn Alone.
His Team Mates No Where To Be Found.
A Real Gentleman.
As Humble As It Get’s.
Just Out There Doing His Thing.
Broadcasters All Up In The Comparison Slant. Michael Jordan. Coby Byrant. Scotty Pippin. Just On And On And On. WTF???
Are You All So Bored You Just Can’t For The Lives Of Yourself Find Something Else To Run Yak About.
Game Number Three, Celtics.
LaBron Is Pulled Off From The Paint.
Playing So Damn Hard All By Himself.
He Is So Damn Dehydrated, Transcending Electrolytes And Wanting Still To Go Back In.
Ya All Leave LaBron The Hell Alone.
Just Give This Great Athlete His So Deserved Props And Creds.
If All Of The Above Was Not Enough.
Brought To You By “thebiglead.com”
LeBron James was unbelievable during Game 1 of the NBA Finals, but it wasn’t enough. Despite scoring 51 points, grabbing eight rebounds and dishing out eight assists, James’ Cleveland Cavaliers lost to the Golden State Warriors in overtime. After the game, LeBron didn’t have time for your stupid questions.
During his post-game press conference, James had to answer questions about J.R. Smith’s incredibly bone-headed play at the end of regulation. He claimed he didn’t know what Smith was thinking. Then, he was asked again, this time from ESPN’s Mark Schwartz and here’s the exchange:
Schwartz repeatedly asked the same question James had already answered. I would have walked out too. Some are saying that on the way out James said, “be better Mark,” or, “be better tomorrow,” though there have been several interpretations.
LeBron gave what was already a decent press conference and answered every question, but a reporter kept trying to get him to say something about his teammate’s mental state during a key play. James just wasn’t going to go there, and he shouldn’t have to.
Schwartz didn’t get the answer he wanted, so he kept needling. It was an unprofessional move by him. The fact that he works for a league partner in ESPN and LeBron James walked out because of his questions will almost certainly be an issue for him. Someone is going to give him a talking to.
The Last Thing.
If You DO NOT Want To Get Hacked.
Read The Following. The Safest Way To Access This Sight Is FireFox.
My Search Engines Of Choice;
DuckDuckGo / StartPage / FireFox / Ghost
That’s All I Got.
“Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.”
Master Sun Tzu / The Art Of War
What A Way To Start A Day.
I Exit My Crib At 13:43 Hours. Usual Departure Time. My Day Begins Around 11:30.
Lock And Secure The Door And The Cast Iron Steel Frame Screen Door. Make My Way East Along The Balcony, Fourth Floor Walkway.
Looking Down At The Pool And All The Kid’s Engaging In Wild Fun, As Teachers In Arizona Are On Strike. I Catch Out Of My Peripheral, One Of The Maintenance Guys Running North On The Ground In A Frantic Stepping Manner.
Maintenance Dude Stops, Pulls A Wrench From His Back Pocket, Smash Slam, Breaking The Plastic Enclosure On One Of The Fire Extinguishers.
Marine Thang Kicks In.
I Run To The End Of The Balcony Walkway To The Stairs. I See Smoke Billowing Out Of A Familiar Apartment. My first Visual Is Of The Wheel Chair Parked Outside On The Left Side Of The Entrance Door.
I High Speed Dash West Back On The Balcony Walk Way.
Stop In Front Of The Enclosed Fire Extinguisher And With A Direct Straight Right Punch I Break Open The Enclosure And Grab The Extinguisher, Hit The Steep Stairs, Literally Flying Down Them. Blood From My Hand Spraying All Over The Place.
There Is Only One Visual Racing Through My Mind At An L.A. Quick Lickety Nano Progression.
The 80+ Year Old Man Who Occupies That Dwelling, As The Sight Of His Wheel Chair Is Setting Off Code 3 In High Rev Degree In My Head.
Another Neighbor Has Secured A Third Fire Extinguisher For Maintenance Man. Dude Bravely Inside The Doorway About 2 Feet, Aiming The Extinguisher To The Immediate Left. The Couch.
My First Sensory Perception Is The Cigarette Smell Mixed In With The Billowing Smoke.
I Cover My Mouth And Nose With The Top Of My T-shirt, Sunglasses Engaged, Attempt Entrance Into The Apartment. I Can’t See A Damn Thing. Three Attempts. No Fuckin Go.
Then Fire Rescue Pulls Up Sirens Blazing.
I Inform First On Scene Rescue Station Officer Of The Old Man Who Inhabits The Dwelling & The Fact That His Wheel Chair Is Outside. He Initiates A Search.
I Hang For Awhile. In That Time I Do Not See Anyone Being Extracted From The Scene. One Can Only Hope.
So Major Shout Out.
Tucson Fire Department Engines Number 7 And 11.
Thank You Guys Oh So So Very Much For What All Ya All Do.
Every Minute Of Every Day Putting Your Lives On The Line To Save And Rescue Us. Bless Ya All So Much.
Second Shout Out.
Tucson Police Department.
Thanks Guys For Keeping My Old Ass Safe Up Here In ‘The Alley’.
When One Thinks Of A Profession In A Very Precarious Position In Regards To What They Actually Do. All Across An Entire Nation.
American Poe (Police) There. At The Very Center Of Attention.
For Myself. Growing Up In What Today Is Known As One Of The Tuffest, Bloodiest Hoods In America, I Received A Real Heads Up Regarding Poe.
Growing Up In South Central, Los Angeles, California’s Crenshaw District, I Was Exposed To Many Scenarios.
My Mother, A Mexican/Jew. Her Family Settling In What Today Is Known As Southern California, Way, Way Before There Was Ever An Inkling Of The Thought Of The United States Of America.
My Father, An Irish/Jew. His Family Just A Small Part Of Irish And Irish/Jews, Apprehended By England And Thrown Into Slavery Into The British Colonies. His Family Ending Up In The British Colony That Became Known As America In The Late 17th Century.
As Well, On My Fathers Side, Marines Going Back To Tun Tavern.
Back To The ‘Crenshaw Hood’.
Henceforth, Growing Up In ‘Crenshaw’, My Neighbors Were Of Diversity. Dark Skin Color.
Myself, Separated By Twelve Years From My Closet Sibling, I Was More Or Less On My Own.
My Friends Were Of All Makes And Models. Never A Problem.
In The Second Grade. I Was Pulled from Class Three Times A Week And Escorted Into A Tiny Room, Where For Four Hours I Was Tested From All Of What I Thought Were Very Strange Books, Compared To The Standard, Regular Second Grade School Books.
These Sessions, Were At Best Embarrassing In The Way That it Separated Me from My Friends And Classmates.
Then At Home, My Folks Were Constantly All Up In The; ‘You Have So Much Potential“.
To Say That I Felt Like A Freak Is A Gigantorous Understatement.
At The Age Of Four, The Closet Sibling To Me, My Sister Taught Me How To Read. Then At The Age Of Six, My Five Siblings Grew Very Tired Of Me Asking Them Word Definitions. Henceforth, I Was Taught How To Use A Dictionary At Six Years Old. Which I Thought Was The Coolest Fucking Thing In The World. All Those Words At My Disposal.
Being A Kid I Never Put Much Into All Of This. For You See, All I Wanted To Do Was Run The Streets, Climb Trees, Play Baseball, Football, Swim And Ride My Bike.
I Graduated High School At The Age Of 16 With Honors. Actually In The Top Three In The Entire School History.
I Also Had The Very Worst Attendance Record In The Entire School History. Always Showing Up For Sports Though.
All Teachers Required From Me Was To Hand In All Assignments On Time And To Show Up For All Tests. Which I Most Certainly Accommodated.
If You Have Been Following This Blog For A Minute. You Notice That I Mention ‘Blue’, From Time To Time. Here And There.
Better Know The Dress Code. The B’s And The C’s.
I Grew Up With The C’s. Blue.
They Made My South Central L.A. Neighborhood Their Home.
Been In That South Central Hood Since 1948.
So. What Dat Gotta Do With Me.
One Day, On My Bike. Chilling On A Corner, A Member Of This Gang Approached Me. He Turned Out To Be The Second In Command If You Will. He Began Talking With Me. We Crossed The Street, Talking.
What He Made Very Clear To Me Was That From There On Out, I HAD To Have My School Books With Me At All Times, Studying As It Were.
So There Began Another Part Of My Education.
I Would Hang Out At The Corner Where The Number One Drug Dealer Claimed His Turf. Sitting There On My Bike, One Of Five School Books Opened To Whatever Chapter And Page.
People, One After The Other Would Approach, Purchasing Their Package Of Heroin.
After Every Purchase, The Man Would Point With His Left Hand. Give Me What I Refer To As A Listen Up, Attention Getting, Slite Slap In The Head And State; “See Dem, Dats Da Trickz, Don’t You Ever Be Da Trickz. You Just Study Dem Books.”
Hanging With The Main Pimp In His Giant Cadillac, Sitting Up In The Front Seat, Waiting On His Whores To Bring Him His Money, School Books Open, He Would State To Me; “What I Do For Money And How I Treat These Women, Is Wrong. Don’t You Ever Let Me Hear Of You Doing This Shit, You Just Study Them Books“. Then The ‘You Got That’ Slap Up Side My Head.
His Whores Would State To Me; “We Going To Hell For What We Do. Don’t You Ever Treat A Woman Bad, Lay Your Hands On Them. You Treat Women With Respect“.
And, To A One.
These GThug Instructors, Instilling In Me, What I Consider To Be The Forefront Of My Evolved Education.
These Giants Of Street Industry Would State To Me In A Very Serious Manner; “We Da Baddest Of Da Bad. As Bad As We Are, The Baddest And Toughest Gang In Da Street, In Da City, Is Poe. You Fuck With Poe, You Going Down Hard.”
So Very True. Let Me Extrapolate On That Profound Bit Of Street Wisdom.
If You Are A Black American, You Seriously Need To Be On Your Best, Most Polite, Obeying Behavior. As Wrong As This Is. A Vital Survival Necessity. Just The Real.
Stephen A. Smith.
I Most Defiantly Feel You My Brother.
I Feel Your Anger.
I Feel Your Frustration.
I Feel Your Aggravation.
I Feel Your Pain And Tears.
The Other Day Stephen A., You Were Talking About A Football Player, Who As Well Is A Rapper. Sent to Prison For Basically Not That Much.
In The Vain Of; “In America, You Have Money, You Ain’t Never Doing Time“. Unless Of Course You Are A Black Man.
Black American’s Are Detained By Law Enforcement 8 Out Of 10 Times More Than Caucasians.
Friends Of Mine. Black Doctors, Attorneys, Business People And Such. Tell Me The Same Story.
For Myself, It All Comes Down To Skin Color. This Same Scenario Holds True With My Mexican Friends.
I’m Five Years Old. Growing Up In A Very Racially Diverse Environment.
I Keep Hearing On The Radio, Daily, Regarding ‘All The Color People’.
I Am And Have Always Been A Very Literal Individual.
So, Here’s Lil Me. Walking Around, Doing My Utmost Best To Locate These ‘Color People‘. For The Life Of Me I Can Not Find One Purple, Blue, Orange, Yellow Person.
Both My Siblings And Parents Are At The Breaking Point From My Ongoing, Continuous Question; “Where Are All ‘The Color People‘.
One Day My Mom Takes My Five Year Old Butt With Her To Visit My Aunt Gloria In Century City.
Momz Parks The ’53’ Blue And White Four Door, Chevy Belair On Santa Monica Just Down From Comstock.
I’m All Up In The, I Know They Have ‘Color People‘ On This Side. Right. I Will Not Give My Mom A Break; “Mom, Mom, Are The ‘Color People’ By Aunt Gloria“.
Momz Can’t Light Her Chesterfield Kings Quick Enough.
Then It Happens.
A Black ’56’ Dodge Sedan Pulls Up And Parks On The Other Side Of Santa Monica Blvd. A Black Man Exits The Driver’s Door.
Momz Stops. Gets Down Eye Level With Me And States, Very Seriously To Me;
“Ryan. You See That Man. This Is Who The World Calls A ‘Color Person’. Because Of The Color Of His Skin, This World Will Never Like Him. And Ryan, Because You Are A Jew, This World Will Always Hate You“.
I Am Shaking From The Inside, Tears Welling Up As I Write This.
I Get It Stephen A.
On Da Straight Up Muthu Fuckin 100.
The American Prison Industries Humongous, Profitable Bottom-line, Is Literally Maintained From The Spoils Of Incarcerated Young Black American Men And Black American’s In General.
Conservative Talk Hosts Will Tell You That Stats Show Young Black American Men Commit The Maximum Amount Of Crime In America. Keeping In Mind That These Conservative Hosts Talking Points, As It Were, Are Comprised From The Hood’s Throughout America.
With Public Education, In America, The Best Of Public Education, If You Will, Going To White Suburban Enclaves And The Upper Social Economic Part Of The Cities, Leaving The American Hood’s With Graduation Rates Anywhere From 9% To At best 11%.
Now Add Into This Racially Divided Hell Bent Mix. No Jobs. People Need Money In America. I Hope Ya All Getting The Point.
So Yeah, Stephen A.
I Feel Ya.
Your People. My People. It Does Not Get Any More Racially Hateful And Horrible In ‘The Land Of The Free‘.
The Above Picture Represents 900 German Jew’s Seeking Asylum From Sure Death On The MS St. Louis In 1939. The Ship Planned To Stop In Cuba, Then Make It’s Way To America.
The Ship Was Turned Down Entry Into The U.S. And Made It’s Way Back To Europe Where Several Countries Accepted Them. Even So. 254 Jews Were Put To Horrible Death By The German Nazis.
Damn Ass Right I Feel You Stephen A.
There Is No Logical Explanation, That After Almost 70 Years Walking This Toxic Rock, I Will Never Understand Hate And Outright Negative Judgement Of One Human Against Another.
That Said. This Horrible Realty, From What I Can See, Is Nothing New.
Somewhere In The King James Bible I Read Years Ago A Passage That Went Like This;
“The Day Will Come When MY People Will Walk To The Top Of That Mountain In Jerusalem. When MY People Descend That Mountain. No Man Will Judge Another Man Because Of His Difference’s. No Man Will Look At Another With Hate Because Of That Man’s Differences. All Weapons Of War Will Drop To The Ground And Turn Into Plowshares“.
We Are A Far Way At Best, That I Can See From This Beautiful Transformation.
But You My Man Have The Pulpit.
I Can Only Advise That You Use Your Pulpit To Instruct Your People, As Unfortunate As It Is, To Proper Protocol In Dealing With Poe.
Yeah It’s A Fuckin Shame That An Entire Race Of People, Do To Skin Color, Have To Act In A Way Different Manner Than Other American’s When Detained By Poe.
Truth, Unfortunately, Is A Giant Bad Ass, Horrible Muthu Fucker.
Even For A Young Black Man,When In His Backyard, Holding His Cell Phone And Then, For What Ever Sensless Fucking Reason Is Shot In The Back, 7 Times, By Police. Yeah. It Sucks.
Thing Of It Is, I Practice The Following. Too A ‘T’.
When You As A Black Man Are Detained By Poe.
Immediately, Put Your Hands High In The Air. If You Have Weapons. Immediately Inform Poe And Point To Location Of Said Weapons With Your Head, While Hands Still High In The Air.
DO NOT MOVE. Unless Poe Directs You To Move.
Calm Yourself As Best As You Can. Keeping Your Anger Contained. DO NOT SAY A WORD, Until You Are Asked A Question. Do Not Inquire Why All Of This Is Going Down.
Keep Your Responses To A Minimum, In The Fashion Of Yes Sir, No Sir.
If You Are Asked An Incriminating Question, That Could Possibly, By Answering, Put You In Jeopardy, Calmly, Quietly, Respond; “I Respectfully Decline To Respond To Your Question Without The Presence Of An Attorney”. Period.
Still. No Guarantees That All Will Go Well.
The Unfortunate Realty Of Being A Black Man In America. Just The Way It is.
One Of The Best Lessons Stated In A Quote I Read At 14 Years Old Goes Like This.
“Always Look At What Is. Never Looking At Should Be’s. For The Should Be’s Are Not The Real”.
The Idividual Stating The Above Is Lenny Bruce.
Something Else From My Most Persecuted Jewish Brother. A ‘Sephardi JewBoy’ Jus Like Me.
Word Up On Da 100.
The Real Rabbi Jesus.
Cuz I Gotta Tell Ya.
No Blond Hair Blue Eyed Peep’s In That Part Of The World At That Time In Space.
Ya All Tortured, Drew Swords On, Than Nailed To A Cross. My Dark Skin Jew Boy Brother, Rabbi Jesus.
Then Made Up Some Hokus Pokus Religion Based On Sin And Guilt.
Ya All Guilty Of Murdering A Dark Skin JewBoy In The Crulest Of All Ways Possible.
FUCK YEAH. Ya All Sinned.
So Stephen A.
Dey Been Killing Yours And Mine From Jump My Man. I Do Not See This Changing Any Time Soon. Just A Big Muthu Fuckin Oy Gavalt.
I’m Laughing My Ass Off. What Da Hell. I’m On A Roll.
One More For The Road.
One More Thing.
Yes. Donald Trump’s Family Has A Very Dark Racist Past. I Get That.
America, At This Point In Time Is 3rd In Line. I Speak As A United States Of America First Force Reconnaissance 03.
One Thing I Know For Sure.
Prez T., Ain’t Afraid To Squeeze The Trigger. Kim Jung Un Most Certainly Gets That.
Feel Me? So Far?
One More Thang.
End Game Preface Of Sorts
I Noticed Things.
Cursed With A Photo Graphic Mind And Total Recall. Internal And External Radar On 24/7 – 365 High Rez – Code 3.
Then It Happens.
All Information Processed.
The Internal Start Button Engages Up In The Wee Hours, Printing Out Information Assessment. This Information As It Is, Is Never Wrong. In The Aura Of ‘Gut Feeling’ Feedback.
So, Four Days Ago I Come On Up On This Site To Write A Blog.
I Notice There Is Not Any Access What So Ever In Regards To Accessing Different Colors Regarding Type.
Hmmmmm. I’m Thinking, WordPress,com Ain’t Playing.
It’s Upgrade Or Else.
O.K. I’ll Throw Some $$$ At This.
Then It Happens.
The Middle Of The Night Wee Hour Epiphany Kicks In.
In The Two Previous Blogs, I Began With A Salute To President Trump.
It Was Following The Second Blog Saluting The President When All Access To Color Type Had Completely Disappeared From This Blogs Administrative Dash Board.
So Then, Me Being Me.
In The Search On My Administrator To Locate Other WordPress Bloggers Sharing The Same Interests, I Type In, “People Who Like President Trump”
A Plethora Of Blogs Appeared.
To A One, Every Blog That Appeared, Was Directing Hate At The President. Hmmmmm.
WordPress, Seemingly, All Pimped Out Up In Da Political Trump Hate Thang. Oh My.
I Most Certainly Hope I Am Wrong.
Then I’m Thinking.
Without Any Assistance At All. From WordPress.
This Blog Site And My Blooger.Com Blog Sites Come Up Number On Any Search.
Pages Upon Pages.
Links Upon Links That To A One, Somewhere In Their Heading State; “Ryanindaswamp” Says.
In fact All One Needs To Do To Conduct A Search Looking For This Site Is; “Ryanindaswamp’. Period.
Companies And Individuals, Pay S.E.O. Companies, Fat Boss Hog $tack$ For This Kind Of Exposure.
I Do Not Pay A Dime.
This S.E.O. Dream, Has happened Naturally From Day One Jump.
Talk About Thru Da Fuckin Roof S.E.O.
Here In Town, A Friend Of Mine Who Owns A Successful S.E.O Company Exclaimed To Me One Day Over Coffee;
“Damn Ryan, S.E.O. Just Follows You Around”.
The Real Thang In All This Is.
As Best As WordPress Hides Stats From Me, They Getting The Hits.
Dey Ain’t Bout To Let Dat Revenue Go.
Feel Me? So Far?
Jus Keepin It All Real On Da Straight Up 100.
Yeah. I’m Done.
That’s All I Got.
Yo.Vietnam.What Up My Homies?Thanks For The Read Guys.LORD GOD Bless Each And Everyone Of You.Những gì lên Homies của tôi. Là một phút. Đánh giá cao thời gian của bạn trong việc đọc. Cho biết cô Lin Yang tôi gửi tất cả các tình yêu của tôi. Giữ an toàn. Hoa hậu Ya Girl. Sa mạc tình yêu. Điên Cowboy, RyanDesert Love Ya All.
The Journey From The South Side North Was Always Interesting.
Knowing I Was In No Man’s Land As Far As Who I Was And Where I Was, I Put My Head Down In Respect And Flashed Somewhat Simultaneously Both The Piece Sign And The Love Sign.
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