It’s not like we’ve had content to slather upon your eyes like careless mustard gobs on a stadium dog because you’re too busy watching who’s on first. Or maybe because LaBron and the Big Hurt are too busy out back guzzling Jolt and Test-O-Max. Nor is it because we don’t want a hippopotamus for Christmas or none of the above. No.
Not at all. Perhaps it’s because everyone is now a digital marketer.
What to do? Now that the 5-yr-old next door is punking algorithms for a fortune 500 company and earning more in one week than his baby daddy has in his entire life, just what do you do?
Because nothing will be the new marketing. The generation after the Millennials will be SO SICK of everything they’ve been FORCED to see, they’ll seek out the unseen. And there you are, sitting on a billion in back stock. Meanwhile, the Gen X’r who’s kept 5 mini storages full of geek glory’s gonna rave on with his nothing business.
Meet me out back at the mini storage shack for that $1000.00 Stevie Ray original vinyl. And I’ll throw in some notebook p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p- ( say it like the guy in Water World ) paper.
No cats were harmed while writing this post.
And THANK YOU to Mr. Tom for taking my nonsensical dictation and getting it published to the web!
Grandpa told me when I was a kid: Two types of people have Tattoos (1) Convicts (2) Military.
With ink culture growing among 60% of ALL girls/women in America as they purchase visible tattoos compared to 40% of ALL men, we have to stop the bus and take 5. I mean, really. Is there some sort of alien acid trip shift going on with the sexes?
It’s like there’s a whole generation of girls who want to be guys. Or maybe they were guys and now they’re girls. Like a reincarnation thing. You know, they served in Vietnam or Afghanistan in a past life. They stepped on a mine, and BLAMO!!! DEAD. It was FAST. One minute, they’re infantry, the next minute, they’re an infant.
And now they’re a girl. No wonder so many girls are uncomfortable in their own skin. Same for the guys who are back from their previous housewife lives. So for the ladies who were general and major, it only seems logical that a service man would want to get back to collecting tats.
Or maybe she was a convict. Bet that inspires abstinence to whoever’s reading this!
George Patton was knowledgeable about reincarnation. Many scriptures detail the circle of life, death, rinse, repeat. Maybe you have dreams about a past life. You’ve been somewhere, and suddenly you get that Matrix Deja Vu wow I could’ve had a V8 kind of feeling.
So the next time you’re chilling with a girl rocking lots of tats, maybe thank her for his previous service to whatever country he served in his past life. Just sayin….
WEREWOLF. The word evokes all sorts of emotions. Maybe Fear of being bitten and becoming a Werewolf. Or maybe romance because of all those Twilight teeny monster love novels. Maybe lost livestock. Or Lupis or Lupus. And of course confusion. So while we scratch our heads in complete bafflement trying to figure out why the above wolf-thing fits NO modern wild or domesticated species, let’s check out the HISTORY of the AMERICAN WEREWOLF:
THE HISTORY OF THE WEREWOLF has roots in many cultures dating back to before Rome. One legend tells us about an early Native American tribe in pre-USA Wisconsin. It was here that members of the ‘Fox Tribe’ were the first to receive the presence of the Werewolf.
In this legend, a spirit-god named Wisakachek – ‘Wee-ZA-Kah-Chek’ – was a shape-shifter who lived in the woods. He was a friend to humans, and his physical form was a wolf. Matter of fact, in some Native American Lore, after Man was created, WOLF was created BEFORE woman, but that’s another story….
One day Wisakachek was walking the woods as a man when he saw two brothers from the Fox tribe hunting. The Fox boys had just killed a deer.
Wisakachek walked up to the boys and introduced himself as a lost, hungry man from a different tribe. One Fox boy offered the man some of the deer meat.
One week later, Wisakachek appeared in the woods again and saw the same Fox boys hunting. One Fox boy explained that ever since they caught the deer, they had no luck with game, and were very hungry.
Wisakachek, remembering the Fox boys’ generosity, told them he had no meat to give, but he could share with them his POWER. THE POWER to shape-shift into a wolf so they could catch a deer easily. Then Wisakachek changed into a wolf. Then back into a man again. The Fox boys agreed to share the POWER of the WEREWOLF.
BUT! Wisakachek told the Fox boys they could not hurt any human as a WEREWOLF, only to hunt.
The boys became WEREWOLVES to catch enough deer for their home village. One day, one Fox boy was in an argument with another normal boy in the village, and in his anger, the WEREWOLF Fox boy turned into a wolf and killed the normal boy.
The village suddenly feared their power, and the WEREWOLF Fox boys were cast out of the tribe and the village.
Wisakachek, the first SPIRIT Werewolf of the wild, was furious at the violent Fox Boy. He cast a new spell on him so that he would no longer be able to change into a werewolf whenever he wanted to do so. Every day, the violent Fox Boy would be a man, and every night the violent Fox Boy would transform into a mindless wolf.
The calm, humane Fox Boy was allowed to keep his shape-shifting control to WERWOLF. His name was KEME, and though friendly and good, left by himself into the wilderness.
Fox Boy Matchitehew is the name of the violent WEREWOLF, the father of all human werewolves.
YOU are the supreme leader of another world, and YOU want earth. BUT YOU know the STRONGEST of your kind could never beat Diana Ross in a bitch-slap contest. And one pickup truck fulla drunks could easily squash 100 of your kind, no problemo. What do you do?
You just can’t go and start zapping everything, because you know that if Earthlings ever found out that honey bees and doobie smoke has the power to immediately wipe out 70% of all the hostile alien visitors/invaders from this and several dozen galaxies, your alien butt would be toast. You have to be sneaky… gotta have that mind-bending alien plan.
Thank Alien that most of the humans species submit to the rantings of dogma rewritten by constipated old grumps and aliens from the dark ages! DIVIDE AND CONQUOR!
Humans have been genetically primed to serve since they were ‘updated’ by various alien species thousands of years ago. Heck, even Napoleon knew this!
He shut down the aliens in the Catholic Church and even coined the phrase “Religion is excellent stuff for keeping common people quiet. Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich.” Too bad his medical condition didn’t know this.
So how are you, an alien in the shadows, going to take over the world? Or how have you been taking over the world? Interbreed the women and set them forth to mate with the men. And then their kids evolve into YOU. It takes awhile, but the wait is worth the take-right? NOT SO FAST!
Not if we still have honey bees! Love your honey bee today. Don’t cut the wildflowers!
While everyone is sucked into a vortex of useless news, we miss some spectacular stuff. Like a guy who took his bizarre frequency gun to the Gulf of Mexico a few years back and assisted with oil separation and removal. Or finds a way thru sound to levitate objects. Or creates a how-to for everyone for free clean energy.
Today we salute John Hutchison for making scientific strides that, while constipated academia considers him completely wacko, ironically, the governments and their war machines hunger for his insights and original work with sound and gravity.
( can anyone say HAARP? )
There can only be one GAGA. Diva wars behind the scenes is legendary, and when the turf is tainted by another lioness, thangs can go from chill to crazy psychopathic insane in seconds. FYI: there really IS such a thing as an ‘overnight’ success, especially when your parents are tied in with high power corporate and government. If you’re NOT connected, give up now. You’ll maybe make it to big fish in a small pond. Chances are, you’re blowing your bucks on a dream that WON’T come true.
But then there are those like Nasim Sabz who work their butt off, go days without sleep and push Red Bull stock thru the roof. They publish content that everyone wants to see, except for those in power, especially if they LOOK like someone currently in power. And if you’re angering the ‘real deal’, LOOKOUT! PERHAPS such was the fate of Nasime when she fancied the blonde wig that pumped her viewership thru the roof. Despite the crazy Ga-Ga-like image she portrayed in her content, some sources behind the scenes say that Ms. Sabz was a kind-hearted person who would have rather decompressed with a lap cat and a classic book. NOT firearms. But all the good claims and references mean nothing when somebody wants you gone.
Think about it: We know friends who were cut off from nice sums of Youtube payola. BUT They didn’t journey to Youtube with guns, bazookas and burning crosses!
No. Someone wanted Nasime gone for good. She was set-up thru hypnosis and negative radical profiling. This kind woman met a mind-controlling fate no one deserves. And just because girls wanna have fun and express themselves.
Nobody deserved any part of the YouTube tragedy. Not those victims on the wrong end of the gun, not the victim warped into wielding a firearm, not those who lost their YouTube monetization, and especially the arms dealership with loosey goosey requirements for gun ownership. Where’s Mighty Mouse, Superman and Mary Marvel when you really need ’em?
Some of us partied a wee bit too much on St. Patty’s Day. Unfortunately, the sea serpent that washed ashore in Georgia was yet another statistic in the long list list of those who tried to conquer the green keg but failed. The green skin gives it away. And as sure as we are any bar scholar, the ocean-going giant most certainly shrank as result of the curse of the leprechaun. So there it lay, much like millions of us after St. Patricks Day partying, wiped out, crippled in the mud with loss of all faculties. We could argue Bob Dutko apologetics all day over this. But just like millions of us, we’re not apologizing for our partying.
Cheers to green beer sea serpent thing-a-ma-jig. You lived large.