Posted on by robinblipinski

no shit sherlock

(no filters, you get exactly what the raw sewage smells like spilling from the mind/fingers)

so proof?

Demons. Just had one double tap and whispered, “Porn. Fucking. Pussy. Go ahead.”

Laughed my fat ass off and ate some cheese.

Did you know that Idaho banned porn on the internet? Well, unless you use a credit card and wash your hands before you play with yourself. That means the kids have learned to use VPN back channels. Puberty is a bitch. Back in the day it was Playboy. Before that it was fairy tales. Before that, well, you don’t want to know what happened. Today though, ha! What a fucking fuck joke.

In case you did not know some facts about this video game you are participating in, your avatar, your identity (complete with clothes, hair cuts, hats, shoes, you)does indeed have free will to navigate the paths of cognitive choice.Amazing choices. Ever choose pain? Ever choose to turn the other cheek? Ever choose to be poor instead of richer than Midas?

When the whispers come and go I too can cum or go. Fight or flight. Ever wrassle a demon? Wild as they cheat and avoid the illusion with a very real form of reality. Example: Imagine kicking Spock in the balls while watching him on a Netflix movie. Not gonna work will it? Now imagine Spock looking all ‘actor’ like and suddenly reaching out of the screen and kicking YOU in the balls…Ouch.

Why write this? Because i am not supposed too yet choose to because it is all a part of wrassling with what is really real. Really? (bonk)

Watching a clip now of a guy laughing as he got caught driving around with his dead wife. If you listen close you can hear her scream. And she is dead. Dead as a 9mm he just laughed about.

No porn.

No accepting the reality of make believe humans just crave.

As for cheese? Much better than what is all around.

Oh shit, forgot to mention the earth cracked last night. A large crack and the hydrant is seeking gravity. Yikes! Rocks go boom boom.

And as Sheldon would say before kicking you in the nuts, “Bazinga!”

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This is what happens when i am happy for a second or two.

First, none of anyone reading this know me nor should they. I’m nothing of import or importance. More like a firecracker, a huge firecracker with a dead fuse.

So, i am happy right now because it is sunny outside and my corgi’s, all five of them are inside and happy. Margareta just made some fucking fantastic cream cheese and pepper filling for tonight, and I’m drinking a vodka/huckleberry drink mixed with sarachi sauce, pickled garlics, ice, pepper…a drink I call bloody mess. Fucking awesome. And now the song, West Virginia is playing while waiting for Norway to play true football, not the pussy American football for weak minded beer drinkers.

There will always be moments in your life where you just try and deal with the accepted reality and then there will be those few precious moments where you get to experience happiness. Today. This moment. i am happy.

Yay!

And in this moment, i give thanks for those who allowed a formation of a country trying to cling to freedom. As such in the freeing moment, fuck people for abortion, fuck people who hate God, fuck people who think their shit does not stink, and fuck me for being so wound up in thinking i could make difference as really Life already knows what it wants.

It truly is the small things that matter. Those small tidbits of nothing adding up to one very important thing. Thing: A word to describe what a thousand other words describe more fluently.

I and i hope today somewhere in this somewhat world, others can find fleeting moments of happiness.

Also, (alcohol speaking) when this shell of biological mass is cremated, the smoke will smell sweet with the feeling of Life joining the Wind of Life and celebrating what truly matters.

(now lets see if Norway kicks Paraguays ass tomorrow and if France pretends it is civilized today)

Posted on by robinblipinski

U.s. vS aUsraLiA

So parasite. Friday. Soccer. Who is gonna win the game between the red/white/blue robots and the flip flopping kangaroo people afraid of guns?

“What? Kangaroos, guns, robots… Oh, yeah, been awhile and I almost forgot you are retarded. So obviously you are referring to the world cup. I hate soccer and last night a dolphin from Miami Florida stole my binky.”

So no opinion on whose gonna claim the title Friday of playing with their balls better?

“Nope. However, if I were to bet I’d bet the hookers will win as they will be busy during and after the game.”

Not helpful and yet so you parasite. As a consolation prize though I have a new binky for you as I knew those dolphins were planning revenge for what you did to them last year when you stole their stash of strawberry jam.

“Seriously? You are going to be nice to me? (the parasite looked perplexed though it’s hard to tell if a purple blob is capable of be perplexed, horny, or constipated)

Yep. Here you go.

(silence)

“This is a jar of pennies? What the fuck am I going to do with a jar of pennies?”

Suck on them. Those pennies have been places you’ve never dreamed of. Some I found on the ground outside the convenience gas station store, some I found while cleaning out clogged sewer pipes. I swear you will find sucking on these will taste and comfort you WAY more than any chinese made rubber nipple.

(was that a smile on the parasites face? nope, definitely gas and the emitting smell proved thus)

“Thanks dude. You want to suck on one?” The parasite offered a particularly nasty looking 1964 penny minted in Denver dangling of a tentacle.

Nope. All yours. Gonna go watch the saudi sand moles kick balls at uragay.

“Whatever.”

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Writers Parasite, aka, my friend.

Used to write under a thread called writers parasite. Wrote a lot of therapy for myself and it felt good as it keeps the shadows at bay.

The place I used to write is now defunct. The Editors there all dissolved into the mist and the owner gave up because of spam/bots and crazy creatures like myself.

However, I enjoy the parasite. It feeds me and helps me make sense of what no human can ever come close to understanding, at least that is what I understand about it.

The cool thing about writing is now for such as i the only way to put the weird wasting parasite in perspective is to communicate with it via the written word. Don’t really know why yet know it brings me some happiness to know I can.

I realize the parasite is not for everyone. Ha, definitely NOT for most and yet by writing here with it maybe some reader will get inspired to write about…

“Man you sure haven’t changed. A long winded bastard writing about absolutely nothing. Thankfully though you don’t write about how big a turd you created or blather about…”

Parasite! I knew you’d be back. Couldn’t stay away from me could ya?

“No. It is you that couldn’t stay away from me. Trust me in knowing that I tried to get as far away from you as possible.”

Well, good seeing you again. Have you been watching the World Cup?

“Nope. I hate Soccer. I played with dolphins off the coast of Curacao.”

You do know that Curacao just played Germany in the Cup and lost 7-1?

“Don’t care. I taught some dolphins how to play strip poker.”

Why?

“Cuz I like naked dolphins.”

Dolphins don’t wear clothes.

“Yes they do, you just can’t see them. All you see is what is at the tip of your nose.”

Did you win?

“No, those dolphins already knew how to play and I ended up the one being naked.”

Ha! I suspect you planned it that way. You just like showing your impressive purple blob of a body. Reminds me of jello.

“Jello? You got some? Heck it’s been so long since I’ve have jello I forget what it tastes like.”

Nope. No jello. Got some green peppers stuffed with cream cheese, Swedish molasses, mezzetta hot chili peppers, bacon, and baked to a creamy goodness.

(silence except for the parasites body emitting a growling sound)

“Damn. It’s good to be back. I’m starved. Lets go devour a tray of those peppers.”

Good to see you back also parasite. Together we can stir the pot, spill the beans, and torture each other. First though, time to munch.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Warm Goo

Detach.

Uncouple.

Separate.

Split.

Phase out.

Dim.

Words of action to describe the best course to pursue when inundated with the constant babble of “Breaking news!” and “Trump did this!” and “Global warming!” and, and, and, (thud)

We all make constant decisions, we have to or else the actions around us will decide and this would usually mean our destruction.

“Uh…Fred? That bear is charging us. Do you think we should move?” Fred had already decided and started running leaving the befuddled companion asking the question to ponder on whether to run, discuss poetry with the bear, or just do nothing and get eaten.

Fun thing about decisions. They can become good decisions or bad decisions. They can save lives or kill lives. They can create something new or destroy something old.

The topic of this babble today is that I’ve made the decision to retreat back into my cave. A most wonderful cave. Buried deep in a dimension where nothing can touch me. No decisions, no pain, no anger, no hate, nothing to harm, age, or inflict angst.

What is news? For that matter what is global warming? What is racism? What is the purpose of tearing apart others both physically/mentally/spiritually?

Why is there the constant force of “I’m right, you’re wrong!”

It was interesting to see decisions of so many questions end up where the one pondering such turn into a victim. Being a victim is a decision. Being a victim gives the power of assigning blame.

Being a victim must truly be boring, just as being ‘right’ must also border on the side of seeing paint dry.

I personally like being wrong as then it is impossible to be a victim and thus boring. It also beats being ‘right’ as for humans being ‘right’ is like being a mountain for others to decide to climb and once on top plant the flag of “I’m right now and you are wrong.’

Yep, being wrong is actually very pleasant.

Is it wrong of me to write such babble? Absolutely! No one gives a shit and nor should they. They should be right and thus boring.

Anyway, even if the news and Trump and global warming and discussing poetry with a bear is the ‘right’ thing to decide to be affected by, being wrong and detaching from the herd is for me, the fucking best decision I’ve made in a long time.

So until I’m fully nestled back inside my cave and getting ready to sleep for another couple of thousand years, when I hear, “Whites are racist killers,” or “We’re all gonna die because there is a shortage of honey bees…” I’m just going to say, “You’re right, I’m wrong, and have a nice day.”

Posted on by robinblipinski

What the eye sees the mind denies

Bigfoot. No, not Shaq the basketball player with size 27 shoes. Bigfoot the large fuzzy ape like humanoid fur ball that some kids playing with life in Idaho spotted a few days ago.

Does bigfoot exist? If the eye sees it the mind decides to find a reason to explain what is seen. As for bigfoot when they see humans, their eyes tell their mind to think, “Well, there goes the neighborhood.”

Have you ever see something that defies what your mind knows to be real? To be true? To exist? It is true that alcohol can help a drunk man’s eyesight when in a bar. When drinking and seeing a large muscle bound woman with a beard and who can bench press a Buick, his mind goes, “Wow! What a beauty!” In the morning after sobering up he glances over at her snoring loud enough to scare bigfoot and his eyes show the mind that this woman could split a lot of firewood, launch a fishing boat by hand, and thus is a keeper.

What does your, yes you, what does your eye see when read this? Words that make sense? Perhaps words providing the mind with comedy?

Think back as to what your eyes saw today. Did you see the two ravens soaring and laughing their minds out as they circled to make a statement? Yes? No? And no, I did not have a drink today, maybe tomorrow.

Maybe you saw coincidence? I’m talking about when you’re talking and when you talk your mind hears the exact same words you are saying, only those words are being said on the television by a blond newscaster with small feet, (smallfoot) (somewhere in Idaho a bigfoot is rolling their eyes)

Eyes are mechanical. They are an optic sensor with the capability of processing light waves as presented on a biological level. The mind is an extension of the brain, a somewhat fantastic biological computer without many apps unavailable to those not subscribed. Put the two together and the process is to process the visual data into thoughts/logic/reality/fantasy and then usually change into thoughts of sex, food, or wondering why bigfoot is outside the window throwing beer cans at the house.

Why am I writing this tonight? (Ha. Chuckle. Giggle). Because today the mind accepted what the eye is not supposed to see.

It was beautiful fluttering in the wind. One side shiny, the other dark. The vibrations rippled the optic nerve.

The takeaway: 1. Bigfoot does not drink beer

2. Women that can bench press a Buick are real and rare.

3. Sometimes it is better for the mind to accept what the eye is not supposed to see.

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All Bullshit aside…

A gift. Maybe the gift of being long winded? No, that seems more like a curse.

I truly have the gift of what human society deems to be profanity and yet I am not profane. No, I’m too fucking honest which again seems more like a curse. (never trust a human being who does not ‘swear’ they probably beat their wife and believe in abortion)

I have been extremely blessed with many gifts though. Wonderful parents, a fun brother, a sister who taught me the cruel reality of being cruel…

To have abilities that if were written here would cross a boundary of disbelief so big not even a bird could fly across.

The prompt here was, the ‘best’ gift.

So many to choose from, so many that fit the ‘more like a curse’.

And… Tada! The best gift is hope.

Hope is a most wonderful gift. One that boarders on ‘more like a curse’ with the other side being a smile from God.

Powerful stuff hope is. Easy to embrace easy to discard.

The past many years the gift of hope for me was crashed beyond seeming repair. Eight years of my work destroyed. The loss of money, (which is a curse but for some the $2million would be their best gift)

On the worst day of my life when I lost all my ‘friends’, lost my money, lost my hope, I was soothing my pain with food. Food is a wonderful gift. Probably the second best gift one could receive. Yes, there on that horrible day Margareta and I were in a Chinese buffet in Homer Alaska. Good food. Friendly owner. And a demon came inside and harassed the owner AND prevented my wife from going back for seconds. I flipped. I physically threw the ‘man’ outside and the smirk on his face was from Hell itself.

To top off the day I lost hope was when the fortune cookie arrived. You know, the usual lottery numbers and sage advice such as, “You will go on a long and wonderful journey.” My fortune cookie spoke such truth it is doubtful you will believe it. My cookie said, “No fortune for you, even fortune cookie gets day off.”

Fucked right? And how true.

To move and find a place to live. Very little cash. No hope. No friends.

Off into the world with a old piece of shit motor home aptly named, “American Dream.” Ha!

Ended up in Idaho. A beautiful state full of mostly horrible people. By horrible I mean the ‘elites’, the rich, the ranchers, not the workers at the local gas station who are from India. Not the man/woman working to pay bills.

Found a beautiful place, built a home, stood by a wife attacked by the demons of sickness. Held her hand while she was in the hospital for 37 days with a hole in her colon. And through it all, hope had stayed hidden.

House after house I built. At one home the daughter of the father I was building for tried to seduce me while watching porn. She was truly evil and she and her daughter tried to destroy me. I ended up quitting the finish as she tried to dictate a build against her father who was the one who paid me. Still again, no hope.

I did find love though . Love. Another gift yet not as powerful as hope and in my tangled web of existence it all was just another futile exercise in what i am…

Another home for a young couple. Worked hard on it. Did my best to save them money. Alpha was his name. Very courteous. Called me, “Mr. Robin” He and his wife belong to a religion who says they love God and others unless you’re Catholic… Now, while raised Catholic and doing what good Catholics do I did not be confirmed as for reasons no human could ever understand. Only God understands.

Anyway, Alpha and another ‘loving’ church member were standing and talking about how evil the Pope is. Imagine that? Say what you want about Catholics what with some priests fucking boys and all but in the big picture they run wonderful charities, run wonderful adoption agencies (I was adopted and my cost was $100) and true Catholics truly believe in Jesus/God and the best real human that ever lives…Mary, the mother of Christ. So, while I heard all the bullshit those two were spouting I spoke up and said, “I do not want to hear this,” to the both of them.

A week later Alpha said, “We prayed last night and God told us we’re done with you.” Ha! What he does not know is that God told me i was finished with what was needed at the moment. And still, no hope.

House after house, cruelty after cruelty. Lie after lie. Even had some loving people fill my work truck with rattlesnakes. (another Ha! If they only knew…) Even had an ex stripper file a restraining order against me. Said to the judge in writing that I masturbated in front of her. Told the judge in writing that she was afraid of me… Then at court did not show up but she sure tried to destroy me just like so many others and still, no hope, just existence.

The last house was horrible. Worked like a two dollar hooker for a couple who seemed at first like nice people. ‘Seem’ is an illusion of a word. Did my best to build them a wonderful home. Did my best to save them money. And then their son showed his true colors.

While trying to talk my clients who were over at their son’s trailer in regards to a dryer hookup, I was told, “Jason’s in a conference call, we can’t talk here.” I apologized and beat retreat to an area where I could talk to the parents. Only minutes later Jason came up to me and much like my Marine drill instructer told me, “YOU WILL NOT COME HERE AGAIN UNLESS YOU TEXT ME FIRST!!!” I apologized and said it will never happen again.

Then, a few days later I noticed someone sabotaged a hardwood floor I had installed their. I approached my clients and they had no answer.

Finally, after thinking about it, I quit and still, no hope.

Excavator work. Small jobs. Harassment from the HOA about a cattle guard I had permission to install from a director of roads while I was working the roads and then th4e dream of death.

Not death as you might believe. Not a nightmare as I have never had a nightmare nor will I ever. The Dream Always the Dream.

In the dream the sky exploded. The world, my illusionary world called, Earth, was destroyed.

And then the fight. A huge fight with Margareta. I knew it was coming and it had too; part of death and all. I had told her of the dream and the dream had to come to this reality and boy, it sure did. Only, it was not my death, it was the death of what gripped and tried to hold me enslaved.

I

Found

Hope

Again. The true gift of hope. The eternal gift of hope.

Now, I’m going to sell the carcass of my past pain and life and start a new life. A real life surrounded by nice people and I’m going to make great friends.

This just happened a few days ago. Imagine that, an old man finding the gift he had lost over the most stupid and mundane.

Every action in the past two days have now confirmed what i knew and now I know.

Last night I could hardly sleep I was so excited. New lands, new friends, new job, helping those that truly need the help… and to leave some of those rich elites living here to learn what is to happen to their comfortable and secure lives. The dream of the sky exploding is true in more ways than One.

And so. Long fucking winded (par for the course) The truth as true as Truth can be.

And I hope whoever reads this finds out also that Hope is waaaaaay better of a gift than cheesecake, money, sex, love, hate, joy… and enjoy your Life in the most wonderful way possible. Hope is a gift given to each and every one of us. It is then up to us to discard or truly embrace it.

And for what it’s worth, I now see Margareta also once more again, filled with hope. (She is cooking us lamb at the moment and fuck yeah! It is tasty!)

Life…Hope…Love… What amazing gifts God gives to those who are poor in spirit.

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

Moist Juicy Sex…or, beat yourself with a tree branch

Humans are a randy and horny lot, they have to be otherwise no children would be born and the species would have disappeared a long time ago and probably replaced with some horny horny toads.

So, you like fucking? Do you think about it daily? Do you masturbate while thinking about anything from juicy fruit gum, other humans, or anything your imagination can conjure?

Whee!

Or, do you beat yourself with a tree branch while muttering, “I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy.”

Ha! It does not matter what you do or choose or practice because you will do what you do and no one is going to stop you. Sure, they may try. Some might even beat you with tree branches for playing with your dick or pussy (vagina/penis, who gives a fuck) “Me! Me! I like to fuck!”

From those who believe in God, god, gods, and juicy fruit gum… they are no different than those who believe in nothing or that tree’s have souls. When it comes to the physical body of humanity…it is all a giant game of fuckfest.

Now yesterday I wrote about A.I. becoming something very different. Some can imagine tactile sensory interface between physical/machine. Robot fucking machines fucking other robots and humans…

Human/machine. Machine/human. Bullshit/bullshit. (and Oh Shite!)

And now a question for you. is sex nothing more than the brain playing with chemicals attuned to the nervous system? Smells? Thoughts? Taste? Pleasure/pain? And why can’t A.I. ‘ever’ experience the Joy of Sex?

Love? Will A.I. ever love? Nope. Unless… No, that would mean a successful mating of human and machine… Huh? Imagine that.

Currently it has been proven that there can be a primitive interface between computers and the human brain.

An abomination of human and machine joined in mental physical AND procreation?

Oh yes, it is fun to see the future as if it was only yesterday. And so, since I like fun and sex, i am fully aroused to peak behind the curtain of past/present/and a fucking weird future…

Posted on by robinblipinski

What Would Jesus Say.

So, todays word prompt was, “What is your favorite word,” and while there are many the word pizza came to mind because, well, because of pizza.

I noticed a few people chose the word, fuck. And I agree. Fuck it is good to say fuck when the situation either good or bad warrants its use.

“Fuck, that guy who shot the guy yesterday is pretty fucked up.” A statement of truth regarding the assassination of the poor fellow sharing his view at a fucked up college yesterday.

“Fuck, this pizza is fucking awesome!” A statement of truth regarding the perfection obtained by some who delve in the magic of perfect pizza.

Now, what would Jesus say…

(disclaimer: Some of you fucks don’t believe Jesus existed or believe in God and that is your fucking right. I feel sorry for you and your fucked up ‘opinion’.)

As for those puritans out there that would screw a worker out of his pay or diddle little boys and girls and ‘say’ you believe in God and Jesus and are offended by this type of writing regarding God/Jesus, look into a mirror and tell yourself that you’re fucked up and need a fucking reality check.

“Feeling better dude?”

Never better. Ate the fucking biggest apple of my life today AND tried five new varieties of grapes that were fucking awesome! One was a plant from South Africa. Absolutely fucking awesome.

Did Jesus ever use a word on par with my usage of the word fuck? Or YOUR use of the word fuck?

I’d like to think so. I know he was pissed about those fucks who did money changing in the temple. So when I think about the part where Evil basically said to Jesus, “Bend your knee to me and I will give you this entire fucked up world.” (Shitty deal if you ask me.)

I bet Jesus today would have told that useless fuck going by many ‘names’ to go fuck itself. (evil is not male or female, it just is a fucking shit show designed be evil to try and destroy that little thing inside all of you not of this world, your soul.)

Yep. The word fuck is fantastic. I will keep using it as it is real, raw, true, and so perfect for this absolutely fucked up illusion of a world so many think is so fucking perfect.

And just to let you know, this world is just an illusion, a playground for good and evil to try and find some fucking meaning and direction for the other worlds. So many worlds…

And along with this theme/vibe, TIME. Time does not exist. Time is one of the best fucking illusions going for the primitive four dimensions.

Now, go be fucking nice to those you hate and despise. I’d be fucking surprised if you do, but maybe you are fucking different.

Oh, and in my not so fucking humble opinion, anchovies on pizza are like the word fuck. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad.