Posted on by robinblipinski · 2 Comments

Zeus (i still like Z)

Zeus was your normal everyday god. A petulant god as a young god and now a cranky pissed off old god with a impotent lightning problem not even Aphrodite could cure.

As a youngster he had a great hobby and that was to sneak up and catch unicorns. Now you might think he would flay and eat the beast but his appetites back then were more rainbow colored. No, what Zeus did with the captured unicorns was to make them play a game.

In the game the pieces were blobs of clay brought to life as Kings and Queens and all the rest you associate with the modern game of chess with the exception of one more piece, that being a large fat turtle.

Hah! What fun the deliquent had while the poor unicorn was bored beyond belief. The thoughts of the various unicorns were unanimous in action as they tried all they could do to escape.

Stepping into the ‘now’ Zeus can be summed up in temperment with one word, dick. Or ass. Or pick a word. In fact, just ask any unicorn ambling by now what Zeus has become.

No, Zeus no longer sneaks up on unicorns. He now spends his days participating at all-you-can eat buffets WITH a senior citizen discount.

After eating an obscene amount of food he then waddles over to the zoo and throws shit at the monkeys Then he goes up on top of a mountain and watches humans kill each other for some really stupid beliefs.

The moral of this story is (in case you have not guessed it): You never outgrow or lose interest in hobbies or activities. Why? Because time does not exist. If you think you are growing old and cranky and become a dick/ass/cunt or whatever, and lose interest then you actually became a god named, Zeus.

Signed: A writer.

Daily writing prompt
Are there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time?
View all responses

Posted on by robinblipinski

When In Rome…(do as the romans do)

Picture a bunch of guys wearing white robes and eating grapes. Perhaps later instead of the super bowl they will watch lions eat some people.

Or picture a hippy festival in Oregon where ladies run around naked high as a kite and eating chocolate brownies.

Maybe picture a six year back in 1957 buying a whole bag of goodies for $1.00.

Get the picture?

And now, a story.

:::

His name was a combination of sign language and a grunt of some sort that assailed the civilized worlds hearing.

What we could try to understand about his name wold be most likely a visual aid; appearance of heavy weathered skin clinging to a sun drenched body. His clothing was of hide; on that day, a boar. His hair tightly curled and black. His adornments were an assortment of bones and feathers.

I suppose some of you would name him, savage. Some would scream and not give a shit what kind of name he held. I know his name and that is a name that represents the sun setting on the moon.

Sun boy lived in an area called, Borneo. He lived there 200 years ago from a date of November 4, 1961. I have to say it this way as the maze/matrix plays piercing in the ear otherwise.

What an honest world he lived in those many years ago. No Europeans, no visitors, no technology, nothing but will and determination mixed with a religion that would make Jesus cry.

Sun boy was now in an age you may call young, 26 years, but in his time he was old. Old and experienced in the ways of his world and people.

His fare was typical of that found among the indigenous. Insects, monkey, fish, fruit and meat. It was the meat which was most pleasant, especially the meat of the special ceremony where human flesh was consumed. Aside from the importance in his religion of eating flesh (just ask Jesus) there was also the pleasure (just ask Satan)

And now you can picture what really existed. A man named after the sun setting on the moon. A man long ago consumed for an act of stealing a delicacy.

Sun boy died because his greed of tasting a human tongue pickled in a fermented coconut concoction was discovered and soon his tongue was added to the pot. You see, for him his favorite ‘candy’ was himself.

Posted on by robinblipinski

A Zillion dollars…(i like Z)

Since we live in a modern world of retards, (retardz) Whee!

Oops,

anyways,

since this world loves to embrace the collective mind construct of insanity I’ve decide to buy a new car so I went into the dealership and wrote a check for a brand new truck costing $156,000.00 dollars.

The bank would not clear the check so I was very upset. I cried and threw a tantrum, (just like the ICE protestors) The bank said I did not have $156,000.00. They had the audacity to say I owed them money for something called a bounced check.

So I shaved my head…well, polished my head as some say I’m bald yet I say I have an afro because I’m a Nigerian Princess.

Anyways, that did not work so I wrote another check, this time for a million dollars. I wanted to buy a dress like those fuctards at the grammys wore. And then again, I was told I did not have the money.

A question: I know I have a zillion dollars. I know because I am me and I know everything.. I demand! No, I know I demand that the world knows I have a zillion dollars and must cater to my every desire, need, and mental retardation!

And if you ever sell me anything, I demand you take my check. I know I’m good for it. And if you don’t then, then, then, then, I’ll hold my breath until I pass out and become sane.

ICE out of the freezer! I demand fresh underwear! Where is my blanky and binky!

WAAAH!!!

Posted on by robinblipinski

The Locals

Tom was basically a timid boy. Kept to himself and followed the family train as it drifted from job to job, town to town.

There was Waco Texas, Seattle Wa, Tampa Florida; towns from here to there. Tom enjoyed the travel and in his way he learned. He learned in Waco the chili was hot and tasteful. In Seattle he learned that men had sex with men and boys, an experience for Tom both shocking and interesting.

Then there was the town where Tom lived now. A small town in a big state best left unmentioned as what happened in that town would best be left unmentioned stay for the fact there would be no story left and as with all stories they must be said.

“Who be yea?” Was it a gnome or an old wizened bar patron of the local small town bar named, Silver Dollar.

“Excuse me?” Tom asked in a timid voice. He had never seen such a creature before.

“I ask, who be yea? You are not from here nor I expect yea be from there.”

“Uhm. My family just moved here. My dad got a job at the hospital.

The gnome was not spare with his hateful look as he replied. “Well, yea best be moving on from here. There’s a killing to be made.”

Tom froze in fear as he dreaded something bad was coming.

Strange?

Weird?

Tom just moved into a small town and as luck would not be his; stumbled upon an annual sacrifice/killing of a virgin. A virgin which Tom was one and now would always be.

As the locals tore his flesh the gnome laughed as the other misshapen creatures tore the flesh from the young boys body. They feast as they celebrated the moon god.

Just another attraction known only by a select few, those being the annual victim and the hoard of demons called, locals.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Epitaphs and shit

Epitaphs or epifafs or… fuck it, it’s drinking day. One day a week I allow myself to drink and tonight it’s rum and coke.

Anyways self, it’s me. A fucking crazy ass dude who has absolutely no filters and no alligence or allegiences or…fuck it, it’s my drinking day!

So, Margareta was born and raised in Sweden so sososo, soooooo… after spicking speaking spoking (and putting up with my bullshit) she is often times asked by random strangers, “Your accent, where are you from?” Or, “Are you from Germany?” Or, “Do you work here?” Or, “I hope you drop dead.” Or, “Who am I?”

Anywayes… I told her today that the next time someone asks about her accent and where she is from she should say, “I’m an angel from heaven and now I’m on my way back.”

Genious or genious or genus or penis or… That would shut up the mouths of those asking and a double win for those asking who only believe in nothing.

So.

Ah so

Asshole

Epitaphs I just thought up (or remembered, or saw)

“You’re standing on my balls!”

“Hey skank, wear some clean underwear.

“This space is occupied.”

“Hey Dominoes, where’s my pizza I ordered?”

“Trust me, it was worth it.”

(Last words spoken engraved on the monument) “Here, hold my beer and watch this.”

“I don’t believe in God. I believe in reincarnation. Currently I’m one of those crabs crawling around your genitals.”

“Down with ICE, Down with ICE, ARghh!”

“Out of order”

“You’re next”

“Laugh all you want, I took it all with me”

“Here lays a buried casket inside a U-Haul)

“They were supposed to install a bell in case I was still alive”

“This is not a Kill Bill moment:

“Don’t fuck a sow grizz when alone in the wilderness:

“I had a second helping of fries at a Somali resturaunt in Minnesota”

and on

and on

and on

Whee!

(thuddd) or thud

and, fuck it.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Free Speech

Case in point: Don Lemon. A gay black man who resides in a country that says it embraces something called, free speech.

People believe they have a right in America to express themselves by embracing something called, free speech.

Is speech free for Don Lemon who interrupted a church service or is it free for the minister who told the protestors to leave?

Decide for yourselves with your choice of free thoughts/free speech, though first another question: What is speech?

Speech. An act of communication. To express to others the thoughts one has pertaining to anything.

I can say, “Fuck Don Lemon, he is a stupid nigger that sucks cock.” I can say that, but should I?

Or

I can say, “I will pray that Don Lemon finds the love of God in his heart.” I can say that, but should I?

I do not matter because I do not really exist, however, i do.

and i do know that God also has free speech, a speech involving every action of everything. Earthquakes are speech. The wind is speech. The elements. The seen and unseen. And i know that when God speaks, all else becomes nothing more than babble.