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I just want to say that I mean no offense in the words I write today or I'm just searching for answers to my questions, we are a free people and I think we're still allowed ask questions in this world we live in. And my first question is has the creator of everything abandoned us? Where has he or she gone? Does the creator sit back and watch us destroy ourselves time and time again? Why is it the creator was there and spoke to the people of old times? Some of the people the creator spoke too where! Adam and Eve, Noah and his sons, Job and his friends, Moses, Samuel, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Jacob, David, Solomon, Elijah, Isaiah, Jonah, Hosea, Zechariah, Jesus and his Mother Mary, and many more, and please forgive me on the order I write these names I mean no disrespect, but all these people the creator spoke to over time and as I said many others as well, now fast forward to today and any of these people where here and they said the creator spoke to them what would happen? and that goes for most religions, I'm sure there's a creator in them! So your honest opinion please Lady's and Gentlemen what would happen? Well my opinion is any of those people today would be sent to a mental institution for symptoms of mental health problems, including psychosis, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, schizoaffective disorder or severe depression. and pumped full of medication because the Positive Symptoms of Schizophrenia: Things That Might Start Happening, Auditory. The person most often hears voices in their head plus Visual. Someone might see lights, objects, people, or patterns or have visions, sound familiar? Tell me what you think? and please don't take offense to the questions I mean no disrespect I'm just a young man searching for anwers.

For the female exhibitionist there are various ways to indulge the impulse; showing varying amounts of cleavage being one popular and easy option. But what about men? They can be exhibitionists, too. It’s high time the designers of male fashion cottoned on to this. Trousers with cut-outs revealing a discreet amount of testicle would, in my opinion, catch on like wild fire. I really think the industry is missing a trick here.

There’s a little butcher’s shop down a narrow street in the South Yorkshire village of Jump. You could drive past that little shop and never even notice it, except on a Tuesday* and Saturday when the customers are queuing right out onto the pavement. These are the days when the locally renowned butcher, Percy Turner, makes his much sought after, to die for pork pies.



* it could be Thursday and Saturday

We know when something is funny, but, if asked to explain exactly why it is funny, we would be hard pressed to put the reason into words. Not everyone finds the same things funny; a state of affairs that makes it even harder to come up with an explanation.

I don’t usually find s*xual innuendo particularly funny, but I often find instances of impropriety funny; thus making the overall funniness of a particular situation dependent on the proportional mix of these two elements. In a Carry On film, for example, s*xual innuendo is not very funny, but in a religious discussion it can be hilarious. Being someone who appreciates things that are funny, I regard this as fortunate; after all, Carry On films have had their day, whereas we are still waiting for Jesus’s second coming.

... is currently reading 2 minutes to midnight the same time as during the " cold war "

So what better time than now to play this...

When I walked through the park the other day I was left wishing I hadn’t. It’s some years since I was last there and its deterioration was depressing. It had the appearance of being given just enough attention to stop nature reclaiming it but not enough to stop it from looking desolate and uncared for. I hear they don’t even bother to close and lock the gates at the end of the day any more; there’s no one there to close them and there’s nothing left in there for the vandals to damage.

There used to be a full time team of keepers at work in that Park. We kids were the bane of their lives; keeping them on their toes when we would climb trees and make dens in the bushes, and play football on the meant to be kept off grass. We had nicknames for some of them, and they had curse words for some of us.

Near the entrance to the park there were facilities: Six tennis courts that were mainly empty for 50 weeks of the year, yet still kept in good order. During Wimbledon fortnight people queued to get onto them. There were four assiduously tended and pampered bowling greens in front of a long, roofed pavilion. They were in constant use. Retired men, mostly old miners, spent their afternoons on them, taking their games very seriously. One old fella used to make us laugh; he would trundle his bowl down the green and then trot along behind it, following it to its destination; watching over it as if to supervise its progress. And, for the duration of the short journey, he would maintain the body position prevailing at the time the bowl left his hand: Bent forward at the waist, in a stoop, and one arm stretched out with an upturned palm of the hand.

I once heard of strange goings on in the toilets; things beyond a child’s understanding, or at least beyond a child’s understanding of the reason for them.

Long gone are the well kept flower beds with paths running through them and a fountain in the centre. They were mostly filled with wall flowers and snapdragons. I remember there were lupins and red hot pokers somewhere; I would never have suspected that I would one day even feel nostalgic about those. There was also a rose garden with heavy wooden trellises between high, brick pillars. There were four benches in the rose garden and four cherry trees, set out in a square. All that’s left now are the cherry trees, looking a bit out of place just standing there on there own.

I wish I hadn’t gone into the park the other day; I wish my memory of it were still the one I had before I did. I don’t think I’ll be going there again. I could say that park is a metaphor for my life but it wouldn’t be true. My life never really had a heyday, and I always ignored the weeds in my flower beds.

Earlier in the week a news story hit about Donald's old taxes showing he had lost more than a billion dollars many years ago. That was around the time his book was published describing his savvy on deal making, telling a different story of his then finances. Years later, the ghostwriter of the book explained a different scenario then what the people were lead to believe about this man of extreme wealth.
Today another story hits the internet about the ghostwriter of a second book written by Donald and it too described the inner workings around Donald that differed from his outward facade.
Most people who read this blog will agree there is no doubt the stories by the two ghostwriters and the recent facts about Donald's taxes show a higher percentage of showman rather than businessman.
I'm not here to sway any opinion as the group of those who support Donald don't see any of those things. I equate that to a battered woman with 3 kids afraid to speak out... because "He's a good father to my children."


Thanks for reading my blog!

...not to get too maudlin here, but with all the terrible humans milling about, (creepy, Anita Hill dissing Joe announced today), it's easy to forget that the overwhelming majority of people, wherever we go, are upright morally. Twins' last undergrad semester winding down, and they asked dad to bring them a few needed things from home. I'm between cars, so using the vintage Aa touring road machine, weather permitting, while searching. So, before leaving, emptied the MC backpack of almost all really important stuff (Memoir draft, parents' estate docs, etc.) and loaded up with things for the girls. On the way back from their juniorversities, the thing fell off the bike. Doubled back looking for it, ---no luck. So to bank to block accounts, and phone rings. Seems a nice fellow, also a MC rider, found the thing, and had his wife call me. Cash, passwords, credit cards, etc. in wallet---all safely returned. Brought them some fresh home made maple syrup, and strawberry jam, which they seemed to appreciate. Nice people, among the Clintons/Obamas/Muellers/Soros' of the world.

They both lie manipulate and cheat us on a daily basses. But who's so powerful to manipulate them. Think about it, if the media and our governments are lying to us, what about the world history! do you think they would lie every chance they get, and leave that alone? Over the years they say NWO (Now Won Own) Scull & bones, Illuminati, Freemasons or the Bilderberg Group, Knights Templar among many, All smoke scenes that they created over the years, What if it's the same bloodline in control all these years, I mean long before the Rothschild's and the Rockefeller's, could they be the real puppeteers? are they the reason the Media and our Governments lie and manipulate the planet? PGP (Power Greed Perversion) been used for over 2000 yrs. we never stood a chance with all the lies in every direction. So who's worse lady's and gentlemen, the corrupt? or the corrupter's? is the Media corrupting our Governments? or our Governments corrupting the Media? or are they both just following protocol.