Yesterday around 1138 am, Dad called my smartphone. I was at work and told him that I couldn’t make the lunch, because I was still full of chicken rotisserie salad from Costco and that it was TOO early for lunch, which I normally take around 1230 or 1200 if the client buys food.
Das Squirrel, bribed, err, shared four pieces of Fillet Mignon from Safeway and turned in one house key to us because of a marathon running event with the twit at Monterrey, CA, where a grand piano plays/the sound echos off a cliff and down/beyond/toward the bay waters.
And earlier today, after being awoken by Mom around 0650 am and while evacuating long/dark/bowel movements of last night’s belated consumption of the boy’s Fillet Mignon/Mom’s sauteed onions (or as we call it – “pickled lettuce”), I read bullet numbered six through ten of chapter sixteen.
I was like, damn it! I think he wrote that book before he “awoke” to the fact that he was being used as a New Age tool and let all those “levels” go away. But a sword wielder knows better – “[once a [moron] always a [moron]]”. His ta-ta sidekick knows what I’m talking about per her private message(s).
So after a late lunch and while washing dishes/the rice cooking pot, I let my small mind wander out the window overlooking our backyard. It is/was such a nice day of fluffy, puffy clouds of white and freezing breezes of winds that sway the/our tree/branches.
I had to open that kitchen window over our kitchen sink to refresh the stall indoor air/the stink of a stubborn old man, who refuses to take responsibility for his actions – he continues to put too much water for cooking white rice, which then becomes too sticky to enjoy with a meal but as a dessert if sweetened/mushy enough.
At 1433, I was thinking about that same book that I read while using the toilet earlier this morning. I recall a personal email of his and how he said to use his books as props to keep the door open and something else about placing them underneath the rubber tires of vehicles.
It’s these little bits of random/stray thoughts that I’ve failed to enter during the better part of this year as a “test” to see if I could let my musings go unrecorded. Well, this blog is a testament to one thought that I “thought” I could share with y’all.
It’s about either keeping these “door” open or throwing them “under the bus”. Wow! Now that’s a revelation. I know I’m NOT supposed send my BULLETS to the divorced nutter living next to me/us. And every time I catch myself earning a “failing grade”, I constantly have to rebuke myself and retract such unnecessary/unwanted violence and ask forgiveness and resend images of apologies and smiles.
So if y’all find yourself encountering what appears to be bits of information that seem insignificant, those “events” will manifest as REMINDERS:
“not to wait for God or someone else to do it”.
“not to wait for God or someone else to do it”.
Grok for thou art god! Behave yourselves (meaning stop ritually abusing/killing people and animals) or else be turned into food/der for your current/past/future misdeeds (“words, thoughts, feelings, actions”). May the Allah, Buddha, Krishna, and pals be with y’all. Amen-Ra!
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