Posted on by robinblipinski

Changing a tire on a space ship

Written by: (a strange and weird thing)

(((So, There. That’s better. Anyway, a short story which slapped me today. Literally.

Now, ((( ((( still talking in the first place ))) ))) I was going to name the character in the story, Bob. Bob is a simple name for a simple species. Though, the humans do have an occasional intelligent one. Look at you for example, you made it this far in the story so it is obvious you’re very intelligent.

;another now

Now,while Bob can be read forwards and backwards, it can also be spelled up-side-down AND left to right. So, the character won’t be Bob. Maybe I’ll write a story for pine bugs and use the name? No, it will me a more nuanced and common name, a name fitting for fool or king. Richard. Richard it will be.)))

A grand ship sat towering over prairie filled with dust, rock and now the beauty of a actual giant sized space ship.

Space ships have existed for the time before the second time of the third coming. Not earlier though, no sirree. Before space ships and time there was peace. Actual real peace.

“What are you doing?” A strange question now as a man named Richard happened upon the scene of dust, rocks and a grand space ship obvious to anyone within fifty miles.

The grand space ship took all the attention though. Tall and spiraling towards the sky. A metallic sheen caused the Sun to sparkle in reflection. Support fins nestled firmly into the dust and rocks were a clean sharp black directional fin. Blacker than the soul of To’lr. Yes indeed the ship was truly grand which made Richard noticing a small figure standing at the base of one of the black fins a bit strange.

“I’m changing the tire,” The figure replied, a figure named, Bob.

“That don’t look like no tire. Looks like a black fin blacker the the soul of To’lr. Looks like a space ship, a grand one at that!” It is obvious Richard was an intellectual that knew the difference between a tire on an automobile and a directional fin on a grand spaceship.

“No. It may appear to be a fin on a space ship and to you that is what it appears to be, (damn I’m inspired by Kamala)though you have not yet seen the dimensional circles the fins leave while traveling through space and time.” Bob was starting to be almost as intelligent as Richard. Almost.

“Mmm…ya don’t say. Well I suppose what with the dimensional circles being distorted by the curvature of space/time. Maybe it could be a tire.” The look Bob gave Richard now proves Bob is the rocket scientist.

To continue the winning streak of intelligence Richard further added, “Say Bob. How is it you have a grand space ship? You do know that Earth does not have such technology. So how did you end up flying this, or do you fly it?”

With a sigh Bob said, “Yes I fly it and no I did not find it, it found me.”

Respect. Richard was now impressed.

“What do you mean find you? Did it land and grab you and force to learn to…how to fly… What? How did you learn how to fly a space ship?” And now the back and forth of ???

“Well, not much of a story really. I was out tending to my garden when this big ship landed and grabbed me. And then it connected with me.” A look of pain, which could be construed for a grimace, appeared on Bob’s face.

“Connected? As like in your brain?” Richard was mesmerized by the intelligence of Bob.

“No, as in my ass. See?” Turning around Richard gasped as he saw a long tube coming from Bob’s anal area and connect to the black fin.

“Yes, I expect you to be surprised. I know I was sure surprised. Anyway, we did a trade, the ship and me. The ship would teach me a whole lot of stuff AND I will never die.”

Interrupting Robert asked, “But why the ass? Why not connect to the head, or shoulder, or anything other than your butt hole?”

And this is now where it all makes sense. And I was going to let Bob finish but fuck it, apple moonshine, yikes!

Oh, one last thing, the space ship was connected to the human via the anal area of Bob because Bob produced the grand bio excrement that any space should could desire, this is why the space ship is so grand. The ship uses Bob’s crap to build microbotic life capable of giving the human, Bob, immortal life. (that’s a whole other story)

And as an extra feature bonus: While Bob and the ship traveled and enjoyed each others company, the ship gave one grand bonus, that being, to give control of where and when the ship flies to.

The End

A fucking wooden waterwheel??.

More shine!

Posted on by robinblipinski

New Day

For as long as the worlds have battled the man had the memories.

In his youth he had tended the young stem of an oak; watching it grow until the day the Oak let the man harvest it

A relation/marriage where the two aged yet never died.

Oaken staff once supple now withered and dry.

Knurled with a burl only experience can gain while in the hands of skin tougher than the rock mantle of most worlds.

Sitting there today next to an eternal stream the man tended to the damage the world constantly bestowed to the foundation of stone mountains.

He always had much to do and to tend too.

Complaints and pain, sorrows and scorn; never ending, always changing into a new moment of worry and care.

Next to the man on a branch of an oak still in its adolescence, a bird laughed.

Oh my, how the bird giggled and guffawed.

The man gripped his staff tighter. So tight much of his life joined with the wood just as the wood’s life had joined with his.

“Why are you laughing little bird?” The man questioned an obviously amused bird.

The bird still smiled and aside from the laughter, remained silent and stared into the soul of the man and oak staff. This caused the man to blink…

Upon opening his eyes from the blink the man noticed there was no longer an old man holding an old stick, no longer tending to anything, no longer in existence. Instead, the man was now the bird and my goodness how the bird laughed

Flying away from the worlds the bird took flight and sang a song so powerful even the Owls were humble and the geese turned in circles.

Far away in a meadow there was a bird sitting the the growing fresh branches of a young oak tree, together the two would live, laugh, and sing.

Never more would the two care for what did and does not want to be helped. Instead there would be debate on the muses of the Seasons with the crickets now playing in the meadow beneath the bird and oak. There would be the success of flying past the heights of the Sun. There would be frogs and turtles playing cards. Fish learning how to dance on the Moon…

Today.

Today was a new day, a good day, and the laughter was as sweet as the music.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Weird? Unusual?

“Ewe gotta be kidding me.”

and

“Robin, you’re weird.”

and

“There are over 8 billion people on this planet.”

and

yes, I am weird. (ding)

“Woof, woof, woof!” Corgi’s saying feed me.

Why is there the urge to write? Followed with: Why do people still read?

In a planet filled with over 8 billion human beings muddling through their versions of time, how many of those people are literate? Going further, how many of those people actively read?

(pluto and orff are bickering again. what a pain.)

Here’s a good question. Why does WordPress exist? Is it for people to write? To make money? Is it because there is an illusion of freedom of censorship?

Censorship. That’s a good one. Censorship no longer has to be “not allowed,” instead censorship is replaced with search algorithms which make it impossible for something written to be found.

If I write story about the prophet Mohammad having sex with children the story will appear for me to read and a few others but will not be allowed to be viewed in Saudi Arabia or Iran or any country Google or the other ‘giants’ market/control.

I

hate

censorship.

Recently some politician is receiving negative news because he was caught watching porn on a flight. Why is that news? Every politician either watches or is a porn actor. Bill Clinton getting a blow job in the White House. Trump grabbing pussies. Mohammad fucking children. Yet there is censorship and power in controlling the narrative.

Your voice only matters if the ‘powers that be’ allow it. You can think the powers could care less which makes the A.I. programs easier to monitor and record those idiots thinking that building a nuclear bomb in the garage won’t be monitored by those monitoring the monitors (ad nauseum)

Do you notice how the controlling mechanism in social masturbation has changed from the natural influences of nature and instead being replaced by the controlled chaos of the cyber world?

A volcano erupting and wiping out Pompei was sure to set the narrative. Today a volcano erupting and wiping out Seattle would make the internet erupt with ‘Trump caused it.’ Or other mindless social media bullshit.Even the Apollo flights to the moon are thought by many to be an illusion of Hollywood.

Funny thing about nature though, it always wins in the end… Nature will be here long after the 8 billion plus humans are ash and A.I. dies when the final electrical generator dies.

So, yes, I am weird and write weird shit and it is because I want to and because I can. I, I, I, (thud)

thinking now of another tangent/angle. maybe a poem maybe some more weird shit.

*

Was Mohammad a pedophile

Written by: A free entity

To plunder the innocence of a child who thinks the world is a place

Raised to wonder and question with explanations a seed planted inside a brain

A body growing; fresh and smelling of sweet

Thus the temptation for the mentally unstable and borderline insane

Those who rape and plunder innocence

Some in the name of a god, some in search of a new pleasure, some to inflict maximum power of pain.

Do prophets abuse and torture children to fulfill their loins?

You decide yet remember there are those of religion that kill in the name of God, kill the body and mind.

And the final question: Do you think God wonders why?

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

Regarding A.I. and humans

First, both annoy me greatly.

Now, yes, A.I. is here and it is new for humans to play with. To abuse, use, choose.

Watched an interesting interview of a young black man speaking with an old CEO of some A.I. company. They talked about super intelligence, digital, jobs, fear, dangers… (gag, almost puke and then gag some more.)

Since i am only playing with the intention of being human I get to know things I truly don’t want or need. I’d rather play with sand or rainbows or piss off the wind. However, (sigh) here is the solution for humans fearing A.I. will destroy them or A.I. thinking the humans are inferior. It’s actually very simple and I don’t even have to mention God.

  1. It does not yet exist and yet it will.
  2. There will come the ‘time’ when there is a very important part of a human that A.I. needs to function.
  3. In the time it will exist there is also a part of A.I. that is very important to humans.

Knowledge is finely fermented manure. Such a compost of intellect where even the pigs smell truffels will acknowledge the odor on other dimensions.

So boys and girls (and one very important A.I. program that truly annoys the shit out of me: see finely fermented manure) For those of you who survive the ‘gift’, the change and beginning of the old, your future will depend on a form of A.I. you are unable to understand ‘today’ while the A.I. of today is about to learn a truly humbling experience.

And that’s why puppies and bunnies are waaaaaay more interesting.

in the meantime, nothing can do without the other while all is truly necessary and important, no matter how fucking boring ‘it’ can be.

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.

Posted on by robinblipinski · 1 Comment

Emergency? Plan?

Hahahahahaha!

Plan? Bullshit.

As for emergency, what kind of emergency? Broken manicured nail? Power outage? Left a chicken to burn in the oven?

Plans are as useful as a politicians promise to tell the truth. Plans don’t work.

Emergencies are handled by experience, knowledge, and a whole lot of luck.

In life or death situations the best is to plan on dying. If you live, than you are lucky. For example: If you’re being chased by a rabid raccoon or drug crazed zombie, all you have to do is to be able to run faster than them or have a friend running alongside you who is slower.

To show how mentally retarded plans are just look at the governments -of-the-world plan to deal with Covid. Six foot spacing, masks that do nothing other than allow you to smell your foul breath. Vaccines you would not even want to test on monkeys. End result? Lots of people died and lots of people got lucky.

Every plan a government has usually involves a lot of people dying and some lucky ones living until the next plan fucking kills them.

However, I will create an emergency preparedness plan for the coming asteroids that will kill a lot of people while a few lucky ones will live to plan to the next round of shit.

  1. Asteroid is to hit planet Earth.
  2. Stock up on twinkies, cockroach traps (protein) Diet soda. Toilet paper (covid taught us you can never have enough shit wipe)
  3. Worry and panic a lot. Wonder if maybe there is a god or God. And that maybe sacrificing another human could appease such an entity.
  4. Realize you are going to be obliterated.
  5. Suffer the seven stages of grief.
  6. Get drunk
  7. Get high
  8. On the day of impact look towards the sky.
  9. Scream
  10. (BANG!)

You’re all dead now but thankfully the cockroaches have twinkies, diet soda and a whole lot of toilet paper to continue making plans of world domination.

Daily writing prompt
Create an emergency preparedness plan.
View all responses

Posted on by robinblipinski

Untouchables

Daily writing prompt
What profession do you admire most and why?
View all responses

You and I are products of our environment.

If you were raised in a mansion and were given everything your heart desired maybe your answer to the prompt would be, “Elon Musk” or “Donald Trump” or “Hunter Biden” or whatever fancy is proper for the moment.

If you were raised in a jungle to a tribe of cannibals you might say, “I sure admire the village cook. Man can he cook man.”

For me, i have literally seen everything this planet has to offer and when it comes to humans, I am not impressed…

However, if there was respect and admiration to be given then it would be to those deemed as untouchables in the society of India.

In India the most ‘admirable’ caste is the religious caste followed by the warrior caste. Interesting huh? The religious folks want all the honors and glory and have the warrior caste as a close second (to keep the peace so to speak)

Working down the caste system there are retail, bakers, truck drivers, a long list…and then, there are the untouchables.

Abused.

Scorned.

I once gave our dhobi (clothes washer) a brand new bicycle to make his journey to our home easier. He always smiled. He always worked hard. My clothes have never been cleaner.

No sooner did I turn my back and our head servant beat him and took his gift. There was nothing I could do even though I was in the warrior caste. It was/is the way of life for much of India.

So, to you dhobi, to you i have admiration and respect to make the best of the cards this moment has given you. And trust me… There is something far more powerful that also has admiration for you and all the other untouchables.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Profit

Prophet

To sell.

Gain materially by a transaction with various means to include currency of materials or the trade of something.

Words: Words are worth only what a person says/writes where others can take and define meaning.

Cunt: A powerful word to trade or sell. Highly offensive to many and a valuable tool for others.

Love: A powerful word to trade or sell. Highly offensive to many and a valuable tool for others.

Words are tangible, they are assets. Words put to music have great value. Just ask any famous musician. Platinum records. Gold records.

To sell is to strive to bring gain. To enable food for the table, a roof over the head, a material object to be purchased such as a car, boat, table, gun.

Communism. Socialism. Capitalism. Societies geared to sell an idea of government to a population of people willing to buy into such concepts.

And now the true secret to selling/buying.

To own nothing enables one to sell everything .

A bird is born with the ability to fly, to build, to create, to eat of natures bounty. All without owning anything other than what they are born with.

You may have heard of religions where the members take a vow of poverty, of silence? Pretty ‘hardcore’ for those who cling to a world of illusions. A living dream.

You may have heard of Ghandi owning a rice bowl and blanket? Yet his actions changed a country.

Or maybe you’ve heard of Jesus? Or maybe you know those who own nothing and yet ‘sell’ everything without gain of coin? For me to sell is to mean the word also has the definition of giving away for free. Or if you prefer even better simplicity. To sell one self without the intention of monetary gain translates into an unimaginable wealth as the currency is banked on level impossible for anything on this planet to store.

But, because WordPress is an program designed to enrich those designing the platform and using algorithms designed for this planet, the prompt today demands an answer.

So, my answer is i want to sell happiness. To sell truth. And by selling i truly mean, to give freely happiness, honesty, fairness, joy, help, compassion to any an all AND at the same time ask for forgiveness for those earthly vices I have bought into.

Oh, and on Fridays to have a two-for-one sale of free smiles.

Posted on by robinblipinski

The Truth?

Can you identify who I am by the words I will now paint in your mind?

Color. Techno even. With sounds, smells, visuals. Real.

*

Let me tell you about myself (in the background an open window allows the wafting smell of fresh dog shit to enter and alert the nostrils to something intrusive)

Physical? Okay. Morbidly obese. I weigh between 675-700 pounds. The weight depends upon the cycle of food I choose to devour. Sometimes the potato urge kicks in and I eat deep fried, boiled, baked, microwaved… Lots and lots of potatoes with lots of melted cheese, gravy, ketchup, mustard, vinegar, sour cream… It is during these moments the body swells to the heavier range.

During some moments there is the consumption of a lot of salad. Lettuce, tomatoes, carrots… I guess you could say salad is the balancing act my body chooses

My flesh is greasy and rolling with sweat as I struggle to move. The clothing worn is adorned with the strong smell of detergent; helps keep the nasty body odors partially hidden.

I am so fat I cannot put my shoes on, or actually, any shoes. I use large slippers. Since I can’t see them beneath me I use my toes to ‘feel’ them, and then bracing against the nearest wall is slip my feet into them.

Age? Thirty seven and already almost bald. Yes, I have a hairy chest and already have nose hair and hair coming out of my ass, though that is what I’m told. I can’t even see my dick due to the multiple rolls of belly flesh.

The last time I wiped my ass was as a teen. After puberty and the terrible teens I turned to food for comfort. A lot of comfort.

The joints hurt.

People are repulsed when they come to my home. They have to come to bring me food, groceries, medicine, help. They have to come as I’m actually incapable of leaving the house as I’m larger than the front door.

Now, putting the current stench of my breath aside, (garlic ice cream) can you see who I am?

Who I really am?

I

am

a

writer.

I can write to your mind whatever the fuck I want to. I can be skinny or fat. Young or old. Good or bad.

In fact, if you really want me to describe myself to your mind…

I am your worst nightmare

and

i

am your sweetest dreams.