Like An Eagle?

Transferred badly to shower like a large pudding plop, and transferred out, weary of my domestic struggles, ate lobster cakes, have to clean my dutiful Krups, but wanted to watch my news, and only now finding out about the LA rogue, but this is the American brand. As angry as I am about the illegal acts against me, and the ostracization, and my weakened fading from the scene, and the fact that these scars live in me, and Josie and Linda don't care and waltz on, no, the most either of these women would receive from me is scorn, perhaps a cat fight. Dorner is a danger that goes beyond the problem of why American gun ownership is a right, and if it should remain so. I shut off PBS, a rare action on my part, and lied to Marie earlier today about how I was doing. I tire of my father's sister, and wish she'd cut this shit out about my birthday, quite frankly. Yes, I need the damn monetary gifts, which is exactly why I curse them. Marie, my father, even Mary, they will be gone soon, and I prefer that they shove their Social Security up their asses, and no, I don't speak to them that way, except for my father, more in a shouting match with the matriarchal sentiment than not, that he is not responsible for my welfare. He stopped loving his children when my mother divorced him, and of course it is not that simple. He struggled against the death of his son, my brother, and it is through the eyes of my father that I live in how Nicholas wasted away from AIDS.

Would you like me to apologize for my revulsion toward homosexual equality despite the fact that I have been a voyeur since the days of childhood tantrums against my mother when I was offended by her Rod McKuen poetry, and watched more Japanese pornography than you care to know, and was curious but never cared to indulge? Do you want to know what I saw when I watched Miss Eddy watching Geri the building custodian, Miss Eddy being the attendant who molested me? I saw a woman who was nearly insensate with slovenly lack of control, and despite the fact that I have been a lifelong trollop for a great sex life with men that never was, Miss Eddy, her very expression, was like an animal with rabies, revolting-- my former disabled alliances not so far removed from that. Peel away the skin, get an ape that likes to play with itself. No wonder why Christianity involved so much repression of appetite. No apology forthcoming. I tried to be a good true blue liberal, really, embraced the science, and concede there is no legal reasoning you could not marry your pet macaw if that is your thing, but Nicholas Kristof curiously never breaks out his tabernacle for the blessings of inner city sexual behavior.

BSA is archaic, and that is its real problem. I quite frankly don't give a fig that its leadership has a convulsive response equivalent to strychnine poisoning, and congratulate the Marxists. Total global conquest. One day it will blow right back in your faces. Have a good morning.