Ham

another time.. maybe I shouldn't say.. Two longhair barely pubescent characters.. my friend can remember this.. it was right after bar closing.. and of course we were underage. But that was common back then.. the guy at the ABC store almost never asked for id either.. If there were bar fights, I'd just find a quick convenient way out of the back door.. I feel sorry for the guy who had his glasses broken in half.. along with his nose. not perceptive enough I guess.. didn't even see it coming.. so.. we were behind this establishment. Officer (fill in the blank. my friend remembers his name. he was a scourge to the locals) said.. "what the * are you doing?".. I'm urinating in a bush behind the bar. I say.. "what in the h*ll does it look like? I'm taking a p****.." so he somehow accepts my explanation. No further questions.. my friend though.. he puts him in the car.. takes him home.. me, I am left to walk fifteen blocks back home.. "high as a coon" as kesey would describe it.. and this character.. years later. he tells me he had several doses of mescaline in his cigarette pack.. and the cop never checked it..

No, I never got in trouble for a grass infraction.. almost once though.. I could read the cop.. he had reasonable cause.. the outcome of the situation was on what could be described as a "cusp". so.. the green went down a conveniently located storm drain. the cop was ....ED. No evidence.. at least readily obtainable.. and by the time they would have gotten the storm drain cover off, the evidence would have been washed away to a galaxy, far far away.. all the bastards could do is phone home and tell ma how bad a boy I was.. "we think he had some pot.."

well.. don't walk on da grass. i.e. be nice to it.. don't step on it.. don't step on the grass, sam..

welcome back, Mr. Socks. I think that's the whole point, aptly illustrated here.. to those who experienced whatever "it" is, it makes perfect sense. Then to others, it may never make sense.. including my own beliefs. I've been told so at least on a couple of occasions. I'd love to go to Valencia, just to try to figure out why they do it.. but there might not even be a "why"..

I don't remember anything like that.. was it one of those little things mounted on a spring and adhesive base, to be applied to the dashboard of one's car?

I wasn't on staff. But I understand they know how to work a floss chart like there's no tomorrow..

kinda looks like a "mansion(?)" converted to a crack house or something.. what I wonder.. does this place still even exist?

I think that is the whole point here.. maybe that's what makes this so attractive to me.. there is absolutely NO LOGIC involved in this:

Helps if one has a goon packing a loaded Beretta on one's side when doing some "confronting" I suppose. Or with someone attempting to confront..

heh.. what is ironic here.. da way denies the god that gives them sustenance.. it's more than that.. they seem to curse their "god".. well.. what can I say. Some day, they will figure a way to collect student loans from the dead.. (me) I'll say something like.. no problem. Lotsa money here.. just take it out of my Social Security or something..

da way.. is among those who are the wallymart of Christianity.. they offer cut roses, on aisle five.. grown in the heart on India (it should be) farmland.. religion met the devil.. they courted briefly, and got married..

apparently that kind of hate didn't have much leverage..

They know Christ in Valencia..

I dunno.. If I can ever afford overseas travel, this is an event that I MUST see.. why do they do it? I dunno..

heh.. well, gotta try your material out somewhere..

Yep.. and now, he's like a de-throned hitler, hiding out in an efficiency apartment..

It's not really all that bad. I've lost the need to have any kind of certainty in this life.. the consequence of half-baked religious answers seems worse than just enjoying the questions..

maybe he had some kind of "experience" when he was an adolescent.. who knows..

what's interesting.. of the three, rosie ends up with da presidency.. a life provided by boot licking martindale wanabes.. the "provider" ends up with a life of opulence.. and donna ends up living in a dump (founders hall).

Just seems.. somebody would have to be seriously disturbed, to name their own offspring after him..

I think da wierwille *heritage* should be put in a public place where it may be urinated on profusely, and frequently. Come to think of it, it has.

considering they are in a bar.. or so it looks, could it be all three are drunk as skunks in that picture? what is so weird.. they look so "chummy".. and the middle one was getting porked by the one on the left's husband.. one big, happy family..