two things today

the first: A fish swimming in a bowl of oxygenated water while in orbit near Saturn. Inducing trace chemicals from…

the second: Wiring an old Earth radio from the period known as the, ’40’s’ to survive electrical degradation from the wet environment at the bottom of the ocean.

So many experiments. (but there is pancakes, so…)

Valentine Day

Inspirational.

“I didn’t get a card numbnuts. Not even candy. You’re a horrible valentine person.”

No parasite. You see, there are ways…

***

Soaring high in a world filled with worlds, the eagle soared.

Winds lifted the spirite; filling a soul with peace and quiet.

Below, the world of earth glowed in colors of Life

Below, a pansy, a simple flower of glowing beauty and vibrant vibrations; bloomed.

A golden color of perspective the pansy is, a very special pansy, one never to wilt or die…

Radiant.

Lush.

The eagle found pleasure in the beauty.

*

With wings furled, the body dropped with the speed of untold imagination until mere millimeters from what was silent and immobile,

with a quick ‘peck’ on the petal, the eagle told the pansy, “Valentines is beautiful today,”

Taking flight, the eagle smiled.

In the distance a flock of ravens laughed at the foolish antics of such an actions.

A rabbit giggled.

And Life continued to bloom.

Which age?

This one?

The one a million years ago?

If the A.I. at WordPress is alluding to what parents were doing when aged the same then the answer is easy.

The parents were doing at my age whatever the fuck they wanted to do. They said what they wanted, did what they wanted and they hated politicians.

Or, maybe I’m lying. Maybe they were dead, or resting in a cave in the middle of the planet.

Maybe I’m not lying or embellishing and they were wondering if the U.S. would win World War I.

Daily writing prompt
What were your parents doing at your age?

/so\ So sounding so silly

Strange?

(stifling scene)

Success.

and

thanks..

oops

(Oh look… a squirrel)

then

One trillion

special ‘special’

1 WONDERFUL!

indeed.*

So, about this Valentine day…m MmMmMm… um, uh, watch the sky.

“Dude, you’re strange.”

No parasite, i play. (37-222-37)

So many rule(s) and regulations

‘brother this, sister that, he, her, them, they’

In my heart, there is something never felt before remaining forever after.

(blink)

So now to tell a story: A Story About Three Pigs

Written by: what’s inside

Recently there is talk of asteroids, UFO’s, aliens, planetary change. And why?

One bit of space rock nudged a wee bit of space. Spatial. Grande. A fly fart of energy.

One would be a message of fate.

Two? mMmMmMm… Much better.

Two would between fate and impossible.

Yes.

Yes Three.

Three asteroids to strike a planet with a multiple choice (all at once, all in the same day, all evenly spaced for three days?)

So, what should they be called?

Three horses of the Apocalypse making an entry for the final and fourth foray?

(laughing, or at the least, a wonderful memory)

The Three Little Pigs

I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and giggle, snark, and wonder why cats always land on their feet.

Scattered sand…

Lofted by a cool breeze.

Sounding like a poem

to realize it was the icy pinnacle of her heart.

Defining Defiance of the Council

Attributes nullified in existence.

Numbers allure with abstract delusions.

And so, the animal(s) rebel.

Birds.

Fish.

Domestic/wild

and for humans…

(failure) Voted thus and without hesitation, to destroy; obliterate; regain Communion.

(it would be best to stop me now as the resolve only thickens)

Only You God,

only You hold the key to hold back total destruction.

In a box… not

and another thing, try and try and try

China can have a million submarines, a million air craft carriers…

It will only take one bomb going, “Boom!”

China as it commonly sees itself, becomes what it knows to be.

Whee!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

On comes the Light.

‘Red Rebel Hot’

Inspired by: Moonshine Bandits

“Fuck WordPress, you money grubbing whore bitch!”

Paid in Full, just so we can call the editor, bitch.

Wanna censor?

Place this shit in the trash can, bitch.

Looky here see…

She wore ragskin cowboots; shit kickin lass

Waving her shoulders she be a bad bitch

A wink, a drink, a blink…

Waiting to wake up on the floor

“She knew what she was doing, as the hound dogs…WhooeeWoof!”

Skake it.

Shace it.

Shake it, she the type you find at the races.

Rubber tearing up the street and a triple shot

‘She the boys lose, she’s the real deal, revving up the engine.’

Yep, she got the ass…

And WordPress, you’re a money whore bitch.

(Paid by and for those who the editors smirk and besmirch)

Fucking tank top!

Whee!