Author: Hippie Tom

Please put aside whatever your opinions and Religiosity aspect/associations you may have, and try to garner just a bit of COMMON SENSE if you can. Consider the possibility that what is presented here today COULD BE part of our evolution as a species. Interpret whatever you want, use whatever methods, religious writings or books you want for your own conclusions/opinions, there is information already available as “Facts” out there.

These FACTS show that the NWO elite (Rothschilds, all Zionists, etceteras) have been planning this for a very long time. Their first target HAS to be the tearing down of the USA (the supposed leader of the free world) and everything we as citizens hold dear, like our FREEDOM.

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: LAMBCHOPS, harvested April 10th. 2019

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

So, tonight I was having dinner at my favorite Chinese Buffet, and I happened to get seated close to a group of elderly folks, men & women. The whole group of them was around 25 people or so, ranging in age from mid to late 70’s to early 90’s. Note, it’s amazing just how good the sushi is at this Chinese Buffet, compared to my favorite Sushi Bar.

It got me to thinking about food as it relates to different periods in our history, and the veterans of each era (that are still alive today). As an example, one of the gentlemen, sitting close to me looked old enough to be from the WW2 Era. He was, at 96 years old. If he had fought the Germans in Europe, he potentially brought home a French bride, or most likely, if he did, a British bride. If he didn’t bring home a “War Bride” because he was already married to a gal in the US, he most certainly brought home the love for French cooking, English cooking, not so much. If he fought in the Pacific (ordinary GI Joe), there wasn’t a whole lot of choice sitting on a remote island like Iwo Jima. At any rate, after World War Two, American Cuisine began to add recipes from Europe, very little from the Pacific Campaign. It took some Red Tape and time, if you were in Europe, but it was fairly a simple process to bring a War Bride home.

Now, the veterans of the Korean War, they had to suck it up and eat Kimchi. If they were officer rank, and was fortunate enough to R & R in Japan, I assume they fell in love with Japanese Cuisine, especially Sushi.

Yes, many of our troops brought home Japanese and South Korean War Brides. The cuisine came with them as well.

Fast forward now to the Vietnam War. Japanese, and Philippine women & cuisine (Subic Bay was where the US Hospital Ships were). If you were an officer, more than likely, married or not, you were able to take R & R in Hawaii. Many GI Joes also left their sperm there (in South Vietnam and the Philippines), resulting in many half-breed children which are now adults. Some of the most beautiful women in the world are half-Vietnamese and half-white or black. It’s really a fucking shame that in most cases, the GI Joe was either killed in action, or returned to the USA without a clue, totally unaware that they had knocked up their “Sucky-Fucky-Two Bucky” girlfriends. Of course, I can understand that if they were wearing a “Raincoat” and an “accident” happened, but if not, give me a break, they knew what they were doing, and chances are they knew their little bạn gái or “boom-boom girl” was pregnant before shipping out for the states as a REFRAD. If you were a GI Joe versus an officer, you brought home a hell of a lot more Venereal Disease ) VD). Almost forgot about the food. Sushi (Japanese) and Kare-Kare (Filipino).

 

 

 

Both Gulf Wars (some continuing). Very few GI Joes have brought home a War Bride from Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria. Maybe a few from there R & R, wherever that may be. So, I can’t really talk about the cultural cuisine coming here to the USA. I’m sure there have been a few War Brides from the Middle East, so here’s a plate of Middle Eastern food.

 

 

 

 

A few things in conclusion: It doesn’t matter what race(s), culture(s) or religion(s) you are made of. If you happen to be of a mixed culture, as a gift from some GI Joe, wither you know who your father is or not, LOVE your heritage (both of them). Be PROUD of your ancestry (both of them). For all the still living GI Joes, wither you know your child, or have never had contact with your child or (children in some cases), LOVE them. Think about them. I happen to LOVE sushi.

Postscript: Amazing how I can be inspired from a simple thing like having dinner at my local Chinese Buffet.

Postscript2: Quick Quiz. Can you guess which Era I;m from? Which war? First person to “comment” back with the correct answer gets to smoke a bowl with me sometime.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

 

Strain: REALLYBADFUBAR, harvested December 25th, 1967

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

Prelude: The following came to me last night almost like a “Vision” (or it could have been the “Strain” I was smoking last night)

First fun fact. The country that the good old US of A owes the most money to, i.e., debt owed? CHINA. I will explain this as it relates to the Rothschild Family (and Central Banking System), the Middle East, more specifically the area some call Israel, and most call Palestine. You can take this as crazy talk, opinion (mine), or a prophecy. The world will survive what I am about to describe, but I estimate that only 15% of the world population will survive.

If you look at the list of three countries not controlled by the Rothschild Family (the World Bank), it’s currently North Korea, Cuba, and Iran. Some would think that Russia and China would be on the short list with Iran. Well, even though both countries are on the vast list of countries that do have Rothschild’s Central banking, China and Russia are on opposite poles, if you will, as far as the degree of control by the Rothschild Family.

Question: Is Bezos really the richest man on the planet? Amazon is a great marketplace to buy everything from soup to nuts, but the Bezos success and money is a necessary evil for the RF, and a drop in the bucket. He still counts his money in Billions, not Trillions. Many believe the rumor that Putin is the richest “Single Person, NOT Family” person in the world. I believe this to be true. But guess what, Putin’s wealth is a drop in the bucket also, compared to the wealth of the Rothschilds “Family”.

What does this tell you? It tells ME that although Putin is 180 degrees from the USA’s goals (which include the support of the zionist israel), Putin is getting his money from the Rothschilds Family. Why? I’ll just call them RF from here on, RF has always backed both sides, when in the long-term RF still wins in the end. Even though Russia’s policies in the Middle East, and who they are supporting, are 180 degrees from the USA Coalition, which has been shrinking in size, not growing, Putin is doing EXACTLY what the RF has been telling him to do for a long time now.

If Russia were to be told to support whatever the USA Coalition wants, as an example, supporting Zionist Israel, there would not be two sides, there would be one, i.e., the RF can’t make any money from PEACE, they only make money if there are two opposing sides, either at war, or at least the constant threat of war. There would be no “Nuclear Arms Race” between Russia & the good old US of A, and without THAT, no proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. What that means to people with a lack of math skills, is that no one would have Weapons of Mass Destruction today. Get it? You can’t make a handful of individuals and families ANY money with PEACE.

So, getting to the other side of the coin, China, although they are on the list of countries that have Rothschild’s Central Banking, it’s not like Russia, where you could give the leader let’s say, five billion dollars as long as he poses to be an opposite form the USA and all other (small list) countries that do whatever the fuck the RF want, which includes supporting the zionist state of Israel (not caps on purpose) dick that’s been UP our asses for quite a while now. The only other choice that Putin has, is all of a sudden, “Paper, Paper, read all about it, Putin dies of a massive stroke at his summer residence. Putin was discovered this morning in his swimming pool, and according to the official Russian News Release, had a massive stroke”. All of Russia is in mourning as they hear the news. Some called it Putin’s Palace, officially it was called the Palace on the Idokopas Cape. Vladimir’s lovely summer home is on the Baltic Sea near the village of Praskoveevka”.

He would be replaced immediately by another puppet if he didn’t do exactly what the RF wants him to do, and you can bet your bottom dollar that the RF would not have any difficulty in replacing him. So, what choice does Putin have? It’s all been “Smoke & Mirrors” folks, going back to, I believe, the assassination of JFK, (who was planning to eliminate the Federal Reserve). Here’s a trivia type question: How long do you think Trump would last if he signed an Executive Order eliminating 100% of the aid (cash hand-outs, weaponry and assistance) to israel? Here’s another “News Flash”, “Trumps motorcade has just been attacked, while on their way to Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida. Preliminary information is that terrorists yelling SAVE IRAN! DEATH TO THE WARMONGERS! (in Persian) were responsible for the attack. We don’t know any other details at this time, or if President Trump is safe. We just received word that the President’s Limousine has exploded into a ball of fire. Stay tuned. We now are getting information as it happens from our reporter on the ground in Palm Beach”.

Of course, it’s just imaginary scenarios that I just described, and it also could be just the right “False Flag” that the RF orders. :News now reports that President Trump did not survive the attack (toasted Cheetos)”. Vice President Pence, a christian zionist is sworn in as President and immediately declares war on Iran. Just a week prior to the attack, the Trump administration designated Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps as a foreign terrorist organization to escalate the American pressure campaign against Tehran.

We all know now for sure that 9-11 was also a False Flag operation planned and executed by the Mossad and the CIA ordered by the RF. Now, think of this for a moment. Scenario: The USA led Coalition is days away from wiping Iran off the map. China refuses to join the coalition. The RF have already replaced Putin, the USA and its coalition have their heads up the zionists ass so far, they can’t see any light.

Here’s the Big Red Dragon’s Turd. China in a preemptive strike, launches the first volley of Nuclear Missiles. They have basically told the RF to go fuck themselves regarding Iran, whom China has always supported, and decides that the RF and everyone under them needs to be stopped. Minutes after the Chinese have launched, from their Nuclear Submarines in position all over the globe, the USA Coalition countries that have Nuclear weapons launch against China. China has targeted the major population and technology centers in the good old US of A, Europe, and the Middle East. They purposely have NOT targeted Russia, since Russia has not joined in on the planned attack on Iran.

Technology being what it is today, and due to the fact that the USA had previously allowed any Tom, Dick, or Harry, i.e., CHINA, to invest in the United States, (google the shit that China owns here in the USA), things like major parts of our power grid (owned by China) are shut down by the Chinese at the same time that they are launching their preemptive strike. If you were the Chinese, and had just told the RF to go fuck off, and you saw the hand-writing on the wall regarding Iran, israel and the whole Middle East, what would you do?

Here’s another fun fact for you: Why China Is America’s Biggest Banker. The U.S. debt to China is $1.12 trillion as of December 2018. That’s 28 percent of the $3.9 trillion in Treasury bills, notes, and bonds held by foreign countries. The rest of the $22 trillion national debt is owned by either the American people or by the U.S. government itself. Feb 25, 2019 from money/cnn.com Sure, China is part of the World Bank, but they are NOT fully controlled by the zionists, therefore NOT controlled totally by the RF. In fact, there is very little control over China, it’s leadership, and the 476 Chinese Billionaires, (USA has 585).

Think about this. The growth of China, economically, has been on a curve upward for the past 40 years, and in many instances, their technology and abilities have surpassed the Good Old USA and global partners.

Many of the Missiles launched by the USA led coalition, aimed now at China, are destroyed in mid-flight by China’s space-based weapons platforms, which were a tightly guarded secret up until this nuclear scenario. Of course, the USA, Great Britain, Germany, and France have similar capabilities. Although many missiles never reach their intended targets, cities like Washington DC, Houston, Los Angeles, Seattle, Newport News, in the USA, London, Paris, Tel Aviv, Tehran, Rome, Berlin, Moscow, Beijing, Shanghai, Tianjin, and several other strategic targets are vaporized. A vast portion of the Middle East is now part of the Mediterranean Sea.

This war, if you will, only lasts three days. When all the smoke clears, what is left are remote areas, as an example in parts of the Northern Mid-West like Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Idaho, and Canada. I know it get’s cold in the winter there, just wait and see how fucking cold it is going to be during the Nuclear Winter in the months and years after this three-day Nuclear catastrophe. All communication systems and platforms throughout the world are shut down, and since most countries populations are centered in and around the major target areas, 85% of our species is killed off in the largest single mass de-population event in the history of mankind. Henry Kissinger is laughing in his grave.

The hopes and vision of the RF and the zionists for taking over the world someday are shattered, what’s left, the 15% of us, will start over in what I call the New Age Order. We have had, prior to this Nuclear cleansing of our planet, time to prepare. Those of us that saw the light years ago, moved away from the cities I mentioned, (got out of Dodge) and prepared ourselves for the inevitable.

Recently, someone said, “The greatest threat to the world? It isn’t North Korea, Russia or China, it’s zionist israel”. Guess what, the Chinese figured that one out a long time ago. The REAL threat is CHINA.

DO your own research or not, the facts are there to support many scenarios. I have given you my opinion and imaginary picture of what I believe is coming. Along with the make-believe, I have also presented facts that support my beliefs. Do your own research.

This posting is going to remain unfinished, as I am sure that I will be adding to it and editing grammatical errors and such in the near future. Please feel free to post your comments as well, as add some to this post as well. Negative and positive comments, will be added to this post on my website and a few other platforms.

P. S. I purposely used an image, screen-shot, of the Amazon website. One may ask the question, “What happened to people like Bezos”……My answer? “From Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes”. No more Internet, no more Amazon, and no more Bezos.

P. S. S. Being that I am an optimist, I believe that I will live long enough to one day hear my grandson say to me, “Grandpa, please tell me again what war and killing people was all about”.  I believe we will find peace eventually if we can accomplish a miracle or two, or three. If you agree to all the wars, and you are a shareholder in several companies that manufacture weapons of war, it is beyond stupid, it’s insane, give yourself a Lobotomy. If you are a Zebraist, or support Zebraism, your just due is coming very soon.

We sometimes think it is hopeless and against all odds, but hey, we are part of the 99% against the 1% that currently have absolute control. We can and shall overcome the odds, but only if we truly ORGANIZE. Otherwise, we are all just as a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”. Some thoughts on possible miracles/solutions can be found on the following GOFUNDME page. If you have questions, suggestions, comments, etcetera, again, please feel free to contact me. You can contact me by farcecrap PM, send me an email or fill out the contact form below. Thank you.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/like-a-single-fly-farting-in-the-wind

For my faithful readers that are aware that I’m finally working on “The Dead Armadillo” story, like say, a Producer, or a Director, or a Screenwriter or someone or a company that desires to option my novel, you can contact me at any time, night or day. If you are a one of those faithful readers that wish to read and follow my progress as I work on this novel, I will be posting updates as a PDF file on every new post on this website/blog. Here’s the latest of “The Dead Armadillo”

TheDeadArmadilloManuscript101019

For those of you that would care to get involved with me on this project, as I intend to hire a professional screenwriter at some point, and produce a feature film, I have recently been approved for a KICKSTARTER campaign where you can contribute. Here is the link to the KICKSTARTER campaign.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thedeadarmadillo/the-dead-armadillo

Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD, RSISHE

Get on board my attempt at organizing folks by joining us by “clicking” on the following link:

ITAD-NAO Home

Some immediate needs. On a volunteer basis for now, we need a WEBMASTER who can work on the ITAD-NAO website, we need a person skilled in “Crowd-Funding” and “Director of Charitable Giving”, we need an attorney to help in the legal matters for ITAD_NAO, including setting us up as a tax-exempt “Church”, we need a Certified CPA to insure the financial integrity of the ITAD-NAO organization, we need a “Chief of Security”, we need a film-maker, first for YouTube, eventually for larger platforms, plus a few other positions. We believe that somewhere down the road, a Billionaire will step up to the plate and write a check for $50 Million or so, which will turn those volunteer positions into paid positions.

 

 

Send Dr. Saxe a comment using the form below:

 

 

The Magnificent Karnack, based on old Johnny Carson skit

The Unknown Sock Puppet has a Turban on his head, his voice is muffled when the turban slips down covering his face down to below his mouth. As he starts to introduce himself (turban slipping) this is how he would sound, “Behold, I AM THE MAGNIFICENT……Karrnnnack (muffled).

Now, as we all know, The Unknown Sock Puppet has no arms (and no hands). There he is, in a muffled voice, calling out, eventually shouting out, to his assistant “Bob”, trying to get him to come lift his turban back up. In a muffled voice, “Obbbb, gat urrrrr azzzz ova herrrr!!”. An arm comes  into view (led by the hand) and as the audience, we see the hand (attached to the arm) lift the turban up, The Unknown Sock Puppet’s voice goes from muffled to “Loud & Clear” as he is midway in another angry comment directed at his assistant “Bob”, “(muffled) youuu stupid motherrrfuckkker”…….(then not muffled) YOU CERTAINLY TOOK YOUR FUCKING TIME GETTING OVER HERE!!!!”.

You can imagine what The Unknown Sock Puppet sounds like when his turban slips down and muffles his voice by repeating his lines as you stick your face into your pillow tonight when you go to sleep

I was inspired to write this tonight when this documentary on ancient Egypt began focusing on the Karnack Temple Complex, near Luxor in Egypt. The word “Karnack” immediately reminded me of the old Johhny Carson skit “The Magnificent Karnack”

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: KARNACKDROPPINGS, harvested March 20th, 2019

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

 

 

I was talking to my neighbor the other day. I don’t know how the subject of dog farts came up. Anyway, I said to my neighbor Bob, “I went over to my new girlfriend, Cindy’s house, the other night for dinner, and after dinner we sat on the couch and watched some movie. Cindy’s Great Dane, “Rufus”, jumped up and sat between us, which kinda prevented me from snuggling up to Cindy.

All of a sudden there whiffed through the air, one of those “Something crawled up your ASS and died”, kinda farts. I first looked at Rufus, then I glanced at her for a second or two. She looked at Rufus, then looked at me for a second or two. Right then I thought, she really doesn’t know if that god-awful smell was from Rufus, or me”.

Which led Bob to ask, “What is she feeding him?”, “I don’t know”, I responded, “Natural foods I think, she makes Rufus all his meals from scratch, plus I think she adds some store-bought dog food that is free of any added shit like, GMO’s, chemicals, preservatives, and such”.

This led to further discussion as I continued, “I think they should put warning labels on dog food. You know, like on a scale of 1 to 5……with 5 being the smelliest farts, and 1 being the least”. Bob agreed, as we laughed, he asked………

“Did you ever figure out wither it was Rufus or your girlfriend that farted?”. I smiled and said, “Yeah, later that evening when we were lying in bed, as I pulled her panties off, I smelled that lingering smell, you know, that fart smell that you left in your sheepskin seat cover in your car that one time we went for Sushi. When we got back in the car after an hour or so, your fart was still clinging to YOUR sheepskin, remember”. Don’t tell her I told you about it.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: itsurewasntmadebypurina, harvested March 17th, 2019

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

 

 

It goes without saying, there is a certain amount of discretion one must use in our language around certain types of people, like little kids or some adults. Have you ever said something that at the time, you just were not thinking clearly and really did not intend on embarrassing yourself, or you were just one really strange mother-fucker after all, like, for instance, you are listening to your grandmother as she is describing, for the tenth time, her hip replacement surgery she had five years ago, and you say, “I just want to come in your room tonight and fuck you in the ass”. Good thing she’s deaf and can’t read lips. Bad thing however, I didn’t notice the nurse that walked in the room at that precise moment and was standing behind me when I said it. They don’t let me visit granny anymore. You just don’t say shit like that to your grandmother. It’s perfectly okay to say something like that to your children’s mother, and in the right circumstances, somewhat okay to say that to your girlfriend’s mother……….My girlfriend’s mother is a hottie……..It goes without saying.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: GrannysBellyButtonLint, harvested March 10th, 2019

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

 

 

Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blahhhh-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Blah-Blah-Blah-Yadda-Yadda…… Phfftttt (Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”).

So many voices speaking out, crying, protesting, screaming, demanding, marching, and hoping. So many wanting their voices to be heard, for so MANY righteous and unrighteous reasons as well, against so many causes that are negatively or positively affecting our planet, our people, literally impacting all of us as a species. Yet, unless all voices, all screams, all prayers are heard at once, the thunder of what that could be, is merely a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”.

That’s where we are as a species today. Pro-life, Anti-Gay, Women’s Rights to kill their unborn children, Anti-Vaxxers, people protesting against De-Forestation in Pacoima, Pro-Gun Rights, Illegal Alien Rights, 9-11 Truthers, Pro-Cannabis, Impeach Trump, Pro-Right, Pro-Left, Anti-Zionism, Pro-Vegan, Anti-Drugs, Pro-This, Anti-That……Hundreds, perhaps thousands of worthy and not so worthy causes……. Phfftttttttttt (that’s the sound of that single fly farting, that you didn’t hear).

We think we know more today, and yet we are more confused and separated than any other time in our history, like herds of sheep going off in multiple directions, running off countless separate cliffs. The dumb seem to be just as dumb as they ever were, and although the smart seem to be getting smarter, so many of the smart sheep are still followers, and running off the proverbial cliffs.

Whether it’s believing in conspiracy theories or discovering the truth, about every subject under the sun, technology has allowed us to be more expressive with our beliefs and disbeliefs in a fractured unorganized manner. Just so much noise, like a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”.

Millions of people marching and demonstrating? Phfftttttttttt…..However faithful we are to a cause or how organized we attempt to be? Fly fart. Billionaire spending millions of dollars to advertise his “Impeach Trump” campaign? Single Fly, Farting in the Wind. Anti-this and anti-that, pro-this or pro-that? Fly Fart. One religion preaching that they are the “Only Way” or another religion believing that they are “God’s Chosen People?”, Phfftttttttttt.

My thoughts and beliefs, even now as I write them down? I’m just another fly farting in the wind. The difference today, compared to the previous history of our species is that we now have the technology, the evolutionary intelligence and the means to stop wars, stop famines, cure diseases, i.e., end suffering. If you count yourself as part of the 99%, you know that we do have the will/desire as well.

Instead, what do we have? A grossly mismanaged planet, controlled by all the elements that we all preach against, or support. The military-industrial complex, Dictators, regimes, and systems of government, racism and bigotry found in every part of the world. Starvation of millions of people, bombs dropping everywhere.

After a few thousand years, it’s still religion against religion, color against color, the haves against the have-nots. And then there was “Social Media”. Another tool to keep us confused (what’s real, what’s not?) and disorganized. Because of social media, we now are truly like millions of individual flies, farting in the wind for “our” particular cause or belief.

It is almost incomprehensible to get a grip on just how fucked up the human race seems to be at the moment, unless you have studied the evolution of our species in relationship to where we came from, where we are today, and the various scenarios for our future. The wealthy worry about running out of Grey Poupon while millions of men, women and children are starving to death. The small portion of aid that does get through to the people that actually need it, is embarrassing at most, compared to that 18-ounce piece of Prime Rib you are about to stuff yourself with…… Pass the Cannabis/Thyme-Infused Au Jus please. Oh, and waiter, please tell the dude with the wine that we need a few more bottles of that delicious Bordeaux.

Famines and starvation are nothing new, neither is the misery experienced by others. Millions of people have been known to die of starvation throughout our history. Today, people are still dying of starvation while the billionaires watch their investment portfolios grow and shrink and grow again, and shrink again, some days good, some days bad. In one good day of trading on Wall Street, a single investment can surge by hundreds of millions of dollars, enough to stop the famines, enough to provide food and medical aid to all of humanity, enough to provide shelter and/or relief from natural disasters, enough to end the endless wars, enough to cure all diseases. Even on a bad day of trading, the oligarchs of the world still have the resources to rescue those in need. One percent of the worlds wealth can end wars, end famines, end disease and stop the suffering on our planet. Ask the starving people in Yemen and other parts of the world if they prefer a baked potato or garlic-mashed with their steak.

Warfare because of political, religious and ethnic differences and the historical “Colonization” of our planet. Nothing new, except today, “War” is a “Product”. Conflict and war have taken millions of innocent lives throughout our known history. 2,300 + years without a day of killing so far. Now we use our differences as an excuse to start wars, invade sovereign countries, take down dictators, and steal the natural resources, not because of our differences like a thousand years ago, but to feed the military/industrial money machine and the stock portfolios owned by a handful of people (if you trust in that theory).

Today, children are being imprisoned because they “slap” a soldier in an effort to stand up to an apartheid regime. In another part of the globe, a “soldier” is cutting up a child into six pieces with his Machete before raping and killing the mother. All over the world we witness the indefensible acts of one political regime or religious system committing genocide “Ethnic Cleansing” against another people (nothing new).

The greatest of the world powers appear blameless to themselves as each of the powers are in control of every aspect of our lives. Like bullies on the playground, each world power desires control over the other bullies, spending billions of dollars on their military/industrial machines, like those playground bullies each showing their bigger stick or rock, their larger knife or pistol, their more powerful arsenal of nuclear weapons, (all part of our evolution as a species).

The real issue is that the world leaders are as puppets on a string, and the puppeteers are the 1% of the 1% in control. Think about this. 200 to 400 years ago, the world powers were colonizing the world, fighting each other once in a while as they conquered (colonized) the world, ending their conflicts with treaties and inter-marriages (example: the current royal family in the UK are mostly Germanic origin). Now there is the evolved New World Order (NWO). Google it. Start with Rothschilds and Zionism. Oh, and “Follow the Money”.

As a species, we have accomplished some amazing things. We have discovered the cures for, and vanquished many diseases. Our technological achievements in the past 100 years have changed how we live and how we interact as a species.
Our history, and our evolution as a species tells us that we are coming to a “Fork-in-the-Road” on this planet. We all talk about a multitude of issues, sharing them on social media, discussing, marching, creating signs and memes, but doing nothing really, because our separated voices are like that single fly, farting in the wind.

One man’s religion, or lack thereof, is scorned, rejected and punished by another. Another person’s thoughts of good will and mercy are beat down by another because of skin color, or what part of the planet we are from. Throughout our history as a species, too many innocent people have died as the result of wars, starvation and genocide, not because we don’t care, not because of the lack compassion and mercy, but because even our combined voices, are never really heard, like that “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”.

When you look at what has been occurring over the last one hundred years or so, it becomes more and more obvious that we (mankind) are evolving, with our advancements in technology evolving faster than we can handle them (how about a microchip implanted in your brain at birth?).

Institutionalized, and evolved, our various religious beliefs, and ideas of governing/controlling the masses are owned by the dudes holding the keys to the BANK. They have evolved along with the rest of us. The “Elite” or 1%, as we call them own the Chess Board, the world leaders are their “Chess Players”, and we, the citizens of Planet Earth, aren’t even the chess pieces in the game. The wealthy are not listening, they could care less what we think, or say. We are merely flies buzzing around the table. Phfftttttttttt.

The only thing in common with the elite? Just like you and I, they WILL die eventually. They WILL be just as much food for the maggots and worms and although they “can’t take their wealth with them to their graves”, they certainly have had, and still have, the power to leave their treasure to their children, their children’s children for generations yet to be born. Another conspiracy theory?

Connect the “Family” dots for the past 200 years, in Europe and the USA especially. Do your own research. Mankind’s religions have always placed us in conflict with others, as it suits the powers in place at the time. Regardless of what you believe or don’t believe in, in the end, your body still becomes food for the maggots and worms, i.e., “From dust to dust”.

Is humanity still suffering from indifference, fear, hatred, bigotry and racial inequality? Yes. Does our species still suffer because of religious and/or ethnic differences? Yes. (connect the dots). Is there a possibility that we will make the correct choice as we approach that fork in the road? I believe we will. The answer? I’m not completely sure, but I do know that a simple thing like the “Golden Rule” will play a large part in the positive transformation of our species. New Age Order, not New World Order. Love yourself. Love your neighbor. Try showing that same love that we have for our children, to the rest of the world.

In closing, I just want to say, Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blah-Blahhhh-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda-Blah-Blah-Blah-Yadda-Yadda…… Phfftttt (Single Fly, Farting in the Wind). I AM an optimist however, and I believe we will survive our own self-inflicted misery. I believe collectively, we ALL have the solution that will take us from the Pisces Age into the Age of Aquarius. Ask me how.

Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,

Yadhum oore yaavarum kelir, “The World Is One Family”

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD, RSISHE

 

For those who have been keeping up with my progress with “The Dead Armadillo” story, here’s my latest:

TheDeadArmadilloManuscript062120

Click on a link here to share:   

 

This website is not filled with a bunch of “Click-On” ads for the latest in “Toothbrushes” “Fashion” or “Free trips to wherever” generating millions of pesos in income. If you do decide to donate a few Pesos because you enjoy reading my essays, that’s awesome, and I sincerely thank you.

 

 

Send Dr. Saxe a comment using the form below:

 

I take a healthy slab of my Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Bar and slide it into my mouth. I pretend my tongue is the Marshmallow and my lower lip is the Graham Cracker, half a Smores. Now, if you slightly compress the piece of Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Bar between both lips as you position it on your tongue, congratulations! You are now eating a whole Smores. Of course, I am slightly stoned when I write this. Eating my last full Smores right now. Smore is gone. Note to self: Buy more Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Bars.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: TASTELIKEASMORESTOME, harvested November 18th, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

 

 

I spent some time doing a little sorting/cleaning of some of my STUFF today. Among the crap I was keeping and/or throwing away, I found about five lighters. I put them on my desk. About thirty minutes later smoked a bowl (I had taken the lighter out of my pants pocket to light the bowl).

Now, again thirty minutes later, I stood up and went out on my patio, sat down with my little cigar, reached in to my pants pocket, and discovered immediately that my lighter was on the desk in my office along with the five other lighters that I had found an hour ago.

Chuckled to myself as I walked back in the house to my desk in my office and retrieved one of the lighters (randomly, not the one originally in my pocket) and proceeded to my easy chair on my patio. Sat down, grabbed my little cigar……….

Yeah, you guessed it. THAT lighter was dead, kaput, out of fluid, should have been thrown in the trash a long time ago lighter. Stood up, repeated the journey to my office. Tested the next lighter first this time, before going back out on my patio. As I was sitting there, out of the clear blue came this thought, THE IRONY OF IT ALL.

If Elvis had is stroke or whatever while driving one of his many Cadillac’s, he may have hit a bus filled with Elvis Fans on their way to Graceland, and killed a bunch of them. Instead, he died while taking a shit. He actually died from prescription drug poisoning, changed officially FROM heart attack. THE IRONY OF IT ALL.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: aintnothinbutahounddog, harvested November 18th, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

Okay, so I’m at Karaoke for the first time in many years. I’ve been wanting to just show up at one of my friends, Chelsee’s Karaoke venues (she does a few at a few different bars during the week).

After much consternation and coaxing, here I am, standing before a crowded bar in front of the mike. “I have to say folks, I’m a little bit nervous about singing again, especially after having all my teeth pulled out. If there are any philanthropic dentists in the room tonight, I am looking for a good deal on those permanent implants……..So I can look like a seventy-year old, old fart with the teeth of a twenty-year old.

Okay, I know it’s not open-mike night at the Improv, but I have to tell you the rest of the story. I was out to dinner at my fav Sushi Bar the other night with my Son and my five-year old Grandson. During the meal, Owen (my grandson) looks at me intently and says, “Grandpa, you don’t have any teeth!”, which I responded by showing him my naked gums saying, “I’m waiting for my Baby Teeth to come in”. With a puzzled look on his face, he says, “But Grandpa, aren’t Baby Teeth for babies?”. I thought trying to explain Permanent Implants would be harder to explain.

“Of course, my handsome Grandson, I can also lift my leg like a dog”. My Son looks at me and shakes his head saying, “Let’s change the subject, Dad”. Isn’t it funny how those whom are the closest to you, rarely laugh at your sense of humor?”. “It’s OK Son, it’s not what you are thinking”, I tell him. Of course, he thought I was going to start explaining to Owen that when I’m out in the backyard at night, and have to pee, I lift my leg like a dog, and pee.

Of course, that was not where that “Train” of thought was going. What I did explain is that one time I was pulled over on the 118 by the Highway Patrol, and that the officer said he pulled me over for “Driving Erratically”. Why do they use the term “Erratically”? What if I was driving “Spazzmatically”, or “unpredictably” (same thing). So, the officer politely asks me, “Sir, please step out of the vehicle, please”, with his right hand resting on his pistol. Then he explains the situation to me. “I have reason to believe that you have been driving under the influence”, the officer says.

Then he proclaims the need for me to take the FIELD SOBRIETY TEST. I nailed all of the tests with straight “A’s”………..Until the part where he said, “Now, lift my right leg, and touch my nose with my left index finger”. I did what he asked me to do. You guessed it, as soon as I lifted my right leg, and touched my nose, I sneezed out some snot……..And pissed in my pants.

Okay, so you are thinking that for sure he arrested me on the spot. Since I had passed all the FIELD SOBRIETY TESTS, including the BREATHALYZER TEST, he let me go on my merry way. I say “Merry Way” because I HAD smoked a few bowls before leaving the Karaoke Bar. “You’re funny, Grandpa!” Owen says. Give him a few years, my son said.

The Sushi was great the other night when I explained all this to my Grandson, Owen. Okay, so now I’m going to sing the Jewish Frank Sinatra version of, “MY VEY”.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: YELLOWSNOW, harvested November 18th, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

You know, I’m 70 years+ old, and I have to admit, I still have the sex drive of a twenty-year-old. I need to explain this a little bit so you understand where I’m cumming from. At fifteen years of age, (the first time for me, Susie was sixteen), I really didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, I admit that. Susie slavered on the Vaseline Petroleum Jelly on her pussy, and the moment the head of my penis touched her……….left arm, I came.

When you are a studly fellow at the ripe ole age of twenty, you tend to walk around in a constant state of erection. The sex is way better than when you were fifteen, and you feel like you could fuck for hours.

Now you are thirty, just married, and believe me, the sex is awesome…….For the first six months. That’s when you and your spouse have discovered a few things about each other that are, well, “Negative vibes, man, don’t put that shit on me, Susie”. She comes to bed with some sort of Vegan shit spread all over her face, you know, that GREEN MASK. Wouldn’t THAT be a Super-Hero for a comic book, the GREEN Mask, in living color, has just crawled into bed with you, she turns to you with her eyes closed tight, and her lips pouted for a kiss goodnight. You head for the bathroom to spank the monkey.

Now you are forty-two, slightly balding, recently divorced, and cruising the Karaoke Bars with the anticipation of a twenty-year old again. Of course, you are carrying several condom’s you respond, to some thirty-something that also asked what you do for a living (a way to ask if you are rich enough to afford her). After buying her drinks for most of the evening, and some slight touches, and even a few kisses, in walks her Lesbian Girlfriend to take her home. Well, tomorrows another night, great Karaoke over at the Golden China.

Now I skip over the fifties and sixties just a little. This period of time you are just one lucky mother-fucker if you ever got laid, or found a woman that wasn’t half to three-quarters “Plum-Fucking Crazy”. I guess I was one of the lucky ones……For about three months.

Because at fifty, I met, dated, and was fucking a gal that was only twenty-six years old. Five-foot, two inch, hundred and five pound “Spinner”, and you all know what that means. I approached her at the Golden Vagina (China) one Friday night, right after singing my version of the Kenny Rogers version, of “Lady”. She came to my place for dinner a few nights later. We had Surf & Turf, and fucked after dinner. We continued to fuck for three months. There is an end to that part of the story, but I’m saving it for later.

I’ve had a few other “Lucky” streaks in my fifties, the sixties were “Spank the Monkey” years. Now, I’m Seventy, and raring to go all over again. The only thing missing? M-O-N-E-Y. If a dude my age is filthy rich, and you see a thirty-year old walking by his side, holding his hand, it’s the M-O-N-E-Y. At my age and income level, all I can get are little old ladies at the Moose Lodge, pay for an eighteen (sure) year-old hooker, or buy some KY Jelly at the pharmacy. You also do the “Alice in Wonderland” trick and take a little “Blue Pill” (It makes you LARGER). The blood from your brain rushes to your dick, and you faint because you’ve also smoked a couple of bowls. So, one and all, take pity on a poor old helpless dude that I am, and join the group at:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/2075299525880081/permalink/2075302355879798/

Peace & Abide

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: MILFBellyButtonLint, harvested November 28th, 1999

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

IWhat was I thinking? Year, 1997, place, Ventura County, specifically, a quiet little beach in between Malibu and Santa Barbara. I had bought my little beach pad by selling off a few shares of my Microsoft stock, 89, 000 shares that is, at $52.00 per share. $4,628,000 worth. Paid $2.5 mil for the beach house, and had a bit leftover which went in to my savings account.

Life was good, the kids were still young, Jake was 13, and Sara was 10 years old. My wife, the love of my life, was no longer with us, having suffered for a few years ago with Ovarian Cancer. After a long and difficult struggle with it, her body eventually gave up.

I had two favorite hangouts during that time. One was a Chinese restaurant we affectionately called the “Golden Vagina” (China) that had the best Karaoke in Southern California, and the other establishment was a great Italian place called “Giovanni’s Trattoria”. Not a fancy place, but the food was authentic, Southern Italian, and the prices were very reasonable. Wine was two house wines, a red “Chianti” and a white table wine that was similar to a Chenin Blanc. Both were served in decanters.

When we first moved there, I would take the kids once a week for Chinese, and once a week to the Italian place. A couple of times a month we had food delivered, especially in the wintertime. Fridays and Sundays were the family dinner dates with my children, when they were younger. Saturday night was Dad’s night out, and usually our neighbor Virginia would watch the kids, spending the night as Dad would either be singing like a Harry Belafonte at the Golden Vagina, or playing “No-Limit Holdem” poker in a backroom at Giovanni’s.

This is where the major part of this story begins, and ends. There really was a person named Giovanni, Italian for “John”. He was the oldest by five years. I always thought that his brother Mario was the oldest, because he was bigger, smarter, and just seemed older because he was the one in charge, or it seemed, worked the front end, while John, friends called him “Johnnie” was the primary chef, and ran the kitchen. As I later found out, several years after my first visit, the restaurant was not named after the older brother, but was actually their father’s name. Mr. “John” Giovanni Bonocchi Sr., had originally started the restaurant in Los Angeles, in Brentwood, and when he died, their mother Maria moved to Silverstrand Beach with the two boys and their sister Francesca.

The mother, Maria, was the real strength behind the success of the original Giovanni’s Trattoria as it was her recipes handed down from her mother, and her guidance in the kitchen that people raved about. Not a year had passed when she opened the restaurant at Silverstrand Beach.

One by one, as the children entered their teens, they worked for their mother, waiting tables at first. Being five years younger, by time Mario began his first job waiting on tables, his older brother Johnnie was working besides their mother in the kitchen. Of course, all three kids had some experience in the basics of Italian cooking, just from helping Mom cook at home, which she rarely did. Even as children, they grew up in the restaurant. But the minor roles they played, were just that, sweeping the floors, washing dishes sometimes, and other “chores” but mostly playing outside, especially in the summertime.

Mama Bonocchi and sister Francesca died in a plane crash in Italy when the boys were 25 & 30. It was a tragic loss, not only for Mario and Johnnie, but also a loss for the community. Some thought the restaurant might close without the guidance and kitchen skills of their mother. Johnnie was already a Master Chef in the kitchen (his mother taught him well) and Mario who had been taking some business and computer classes at night at the local college was the perfect front end person, so, after closing for a month for the mourning period and funerals (combined) they opened back up to a huge increase in patronage, mostly the regular customers, but enhanced by the publicity of their family tragedy, new customers, people from as far away as Orange County increased the overall business by 30%.

This is about the time that the kids and I moved to Silverstrand Beach. Even though we quickly became “regulars” it was busy enough on Sundays that we had a standing reservation for our Sunday dinner. I had learned early-on when we first started going there for dinner, that if we didn’t make a reservation, we were SOL.

In contrast, Friday dinners at the Golden China was always without a reservation because the place was so huge. I think the seating capacity was about 200 people. Mr. Garyoke, as the kids called him, (nickname for “Gary who owns the Karaoke place”, which they got from Dad) began saving us the same table after our fifth visit, which the kids thought was pretty special. By the time my kids were old enough to babysit themselves, I had become close friends with Garyoke (the owner of the Golden Vagina), and with Johnnie & Mario.

Saturday Poker Night in the back room at Giovanni’s was always a blast, win or lose, and a wonderful distraction for the Beach Bum life that I had assumed. I was and I am a better than average player. I probably won 50% of the time, which I considered pretty damn good. When I won, there were never any sore losers amongst our small gathering of players. We were all close friends, and we were all fairly well off financially.

Buy in was small. $5 grand with a limit of two re-buys of $5 grand each so the most one could lose in a night was $15 grand. Our games always started with nine of us at the table. The dealer usually was one of the kitchen staff, a young Italian gal related to the two brothers.

This was not like a typical tournament, with multiple tables, just the one table with nine of us, and usually three or four friends watching, waiting for someone to bust out. One night, some holiday, I can’t remember now what it was, there were six dudes watching and waiting for their turn at the table. Two of them never got to play, but they sure enjoyed themselves anyway.

If you did bust, as I said, you had two re-buys, and after that third bust, you automatically had to give up your chair to someone else. It was always first come first served, so you had to show up early (I was always early, having dinner first). If you were one of the few who had to watch the game and wait, you were given a number, ten, eleven and so on, in the order that you showed up late.

One time I WAS late, actually number thirteen (the latest) and I ended up the major winner at the end of the night, which typically was four o’clock in the morning. The table shrank as individuals would exhaust their re-buys, so usually by the cut-off time of four AM, there was only three of us left at the table and in the room.

I mentioned that I won 50% of the time…….80% of the time I was one of the last three remaining. On a good night, if you happened to be lucky (good) at our little game, you could go home with at least $75,000. Like I said, fun, and a distraction. Win or lose, we all had a great time, talking about every subject under the sun, drinking, joking around, smoking fat cigars, like your typical poker night.

Our hosts had one of those pull down 8 by 10 screens and an old projector, and they were always showing some old X-rated 8mm film like “Debbie does Dallas”. Now THAT…….WAS a distraction for some, but not for me. Pretty sneaky for the brothers to have those old movies playing while we played poker. The one and only time that I WAS distracted for a bit, was an old movie that started out like it was an old Frankenstein movie, until the part when Miss Frankenstein started giving Mr. Frankenstein a blow-job. I lost big time that night.

Note to self: Both coffins had a false bottom. Underneath their mother and sister’s bodies were a half a million dollars worth of Heroin and Cocaine. U. S. Customs didn’t take the bodies out to inspect the caskets, and they didn’t find any discernible weight issues. After all, the two caskets were the best money could buy, solid copper as I a neighbor of mine who had attended the dual-funeral had suggested.

No wonder that the Bonocchi Brothers both drove a Ferrari. “The restaurant business has been very very good for us”, Mario once said to me. In reality, although a popular place for Italian cuisine, there was no fucking way that they made Ferrari type money from the place.

I had known the Bonocchi Brothers for about two years when they had a falling-out with each other. It got down to the two brothers fighting one night in the kitchen. Pots of sauce were flying, at one point, when Mario picked up a huge meat cleaver, several of us stepped in and stopped the fight. We escorted Mario outside as he was yelling out, “I’ll kill you Mother-Fucker”. As far I know, those were the last words he said to his older brother.

One warm summer night, had to be mid-week because no one was there, I was sitting on my patio by myself, smoking a bowl, listening to the sound of the waves hitting the shoreline, when I heard footsteps approaching the patio from the street side of the house. It was Angelo Lucchese, a really close friend of Mario’s. I had only met Angelo a handful of times when I was either at Mario’s house, or at this favorite dive bar down the street near my place. “Angelo, how are you brother”, I said to him as he turned the corner walking towards where I was sitting. “Great, Tomas”, he spoke in his heavy Italian accent, pronouncing my name the Italian way. TOE-MASZ.

Angelo was carrying something that I couldn’t quite make out until he was sitting down on one of the other patio chairs. I’m sure you have seen, especially at Christmas, those huge gallon-size plastic jars filled with stuff like those round cheese puffs. Angelo had brought this gimongous jar over to my house, filled with bud.

I had smoked his shit before, and it was righteous shit. He proceeds to unscrew the lid as I commented, “Angelo, that is the largest amount of weed in one single vessel that I have ever seen in my life!”. Angelo responded by saying that he had five times this much at home. I thought to myself, “He’s GOT to be dealing, with that amount of weed”.

Let me stop myself for a minute and briefly describe Angelo. The first time I met him, I was with Mario at some dive in Ventura. Mario and I were sitting at a table in the back of the bar near the pool table. We had put our quarters up on the rail of the pool table each waiting for our turn. In comes Angelo, thru the back door the smoking patio. First impression? Mafia. The way he was dressed, all in shiny gaberdine black, with his shirt open about four buttons or so, a large gold chain with a Cornetto Devil’s horn hanging from it. Most commonly worn by Italian men to protect their genitalia from the evil eye.

Mario stood up to give Angelo a masculine bear hug, they kissed each other on both cheeks, so I did the same. Now, I’m not of Italian descent, not even close to resembling an Italian dude. But for some unknown reason, Angelo thought that I was Italian, possibly from Northern Italy. Since that first-time meeting Angelo, I kept up the charade, even talking like Marlon Brando in the “Godfather” movies. I did this bizarre charade from then on. Mario would look at me kinda strange whenever Angelo was around. One day he commented that he actually got a kick out of it. In truth, I was so fucking afraid of Angelo, I just transformed myself into a gangster.

The reason for the fear? That first night, after we sat there chatting, waiting for the current game of 8-ball to end so I could put MY quarters in and hopefully win, Angelo walks up to the pool table and pulls a couple of balls towards and into the side pocket where he was standing and quietly told these two “Cholos’” that their game was over and it was time for them to leave the table.

They were slightly reluctant to do so, which led to a very brief barroom brawl. The dude to the right of Angelo came around quickly with his Dos XX raised above his head in the first half of a striking motion, and Angelo’s leg popped up and out like a switch-blade knife, kicking the dude square in the head and knocking him down and out. The other Mexican dude just backed away from the table waving his arms back and forth as if to wave off a bull or something.

That’s when I came up with my nickname for Angelo. Angelo “The Bull” Lucchese. Oh, and yes, he was from the Lucchese Crime Family in New York, on his father’s side obviously. Gaetano Reina, the first “Boss” of the family back in the 1920’s was a Great-Great-Uncle of Angelo’s father.

While Angelo and I were playing a friendly game of eight-ball, some Mexican chick came over and poured her beer on the face of the dude that Angelo had knocked out. He had been laying there for about fifteen minutes. Regaining consciousness, he stood up, not looking in Angelo’s direction, and walked out of the bar. First impression? Angelo was a mean mother-fucker. Even the look in his eyes could make any Hells Angel dude back up.

I had to paint a sort of picture of Angelo in order to set-up this next part, continuation of my story. So, there we are, Angelo and I, sitting on my patio, sharing a joint or two or three. My Marlon Brando thing is full-on, except I didn’t stuff cotton in my mouth behind my lower lip. ”This is great weed, Angelo, so smooth, so relaxing” as I took a sip from my glass of Jameson 12-year-old Special Reserve. As I said that, I thought to myself, “Shit, Oscar time, I sound just like the Godfather. Still to this day, I have absolutely NO idea why Angelo referred to me as the “Godfather”. Was it something Mario may have said to him? Was it because I lived in a million-dollar home on the beach? Who knows.

It’s one thing to sound like Marlon Brando, it’s another whole thing when you have a dude like Angelo calling you, “Godfather”. “Well, Godfather, I do have a favor to ask of you”, as Angelo is lighting our third joint. “What’s that Angelo”, deep into my role. “You see, Godfather, I need to find a quiet secure place to do some modifications on a motorcycle, and I thought perhaps you would allow me to use part of your garage”.

At first, I mumbled on about some other subject. Not to be rude, after all, he DID call me the Godfather. It’s not like changing the subject to something mundane, like, “Man, this is great weather we’ve been having this week”, nothing like that. I think I asked him how Mario was doing. Then I asked him, “What sort of mods are you wanting to accomplish?”. “I need to mount my MAC-10 on my handlebars”, he said. For those of you that don’t know what a MAC-10 is, it’s a fully-automatic submachine gun, fairly small in architecture, but extremely deadly, capable of firing 1,090 rounds per minute, limited only by the size of the clip (generally used with large capacity clips).

“Yeah, I need to rig a mechanical device so I can pull on the trigger while my right hand is still gripping the throttle”. WTF! I thought, as I positioned my head and expression in my best Marlon Brando pose. Angelo goes on, “I have a contract I need to fulfill, and the best chance I have at doing so, is to speed up to my victim on my motorcycle, catch him coming out of his house or his place of business, and speeding away”.

HOLY SHIT I thought, this wasn’t just some wannabe mob dude that excels in bar room confrontations, Angelo was serious, and one crazy mother-fucker. How do I respond to this? How would Marlon Brando respond to this? This is way outa my league, so what did I do? I yawned, and said “This is way past my bedtime, let me think about it Angelo, my son uses half of the garage, so I’m not sure if that is a great idea”. Subject changed immediately.

We talked for another half-hour or so, and after I yawned a few more times, Angelo stood up holding his gallon jug of weed under his left arm and said, “Godfather, thank you for sharing your time with me this evening, I understand your position on this, about your son sharing the garage and all, so forget I even asked. I do have a place in Ventura that I can use”. I stood up, we hugged like to Italian brothers, and he left. I had some really interesting dreams that night.

Intended target, Mario’s brother, Johnnie. Stay tuned for the continuation of this story.

For my faithful readers that are aware that I’m finally working on “The Dead Armadillo” story, like say, a Producer, or a Director, or a Screenwriter or someone or a company that desires to option my novel, you can contact me at any time, night or day. If you are a one of those faithful readers that wish to read and follow my progress as I work on this novel, I will be posting updates as a PDF file on every new post on this website/blog. Here’s the latest of “The Dead Armadillo”

TheDeadArmadilloManuscript101019

For those of you that would care to get involved with me on this project, as I intend to hire a professional screenwriter at some point, and produce a feature film, I have recently been approved for a KICKSTARTER campaign where you can contribute. Here is the link to the KICKSTARTER campaign.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thedeadarmadillo/the-dead-armadillo

Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: BrandosBellyButtonLint, harvested August 30th, 1972

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

 

 

Send Dr. Saxe a comment using the form below:

“Conscientious Objector” versus “Conscious Subjector”

A conscientious objector is an “individual who has claimed the right to refuse to perform military service”on the grounds of freedom of thought, conscience, or religion.

Conscientious

con·sci·en·tious

Dictionary result for conscientious

(of a person) wishing to do what is right, especially to do one’s work or duty well and thoroughly.

“a conscientious and hardworking clerk”

Synonyms: diligent, industrious, punctilious, painstaking, sedulous, assiduous, dedicated, careful, meticulous, thorough, attentive, laborious, hard-working, ultra-careful, persevering, unflagging, searching, close, minute, accurate, correct, studious, rigorous, particular

Conscientious Objection and Alternative Service

Conscientious Objectors

Today, ALL conscientious objectors are still required to register with the Selective Service System. A conscientious objector is one who is opposed to serving in the armed forces and/or bearing arms on the grounds of moral or religious principles.

Subjector

A person who brings someone or something into a state of subjection, subordination, or submission; a subjugator.

Origin

Mid-16th century; earliest use found in Gilbert Hay (c1397–c1465), soldier and poet. From subject + -or. Compare classical Latin subiector person who introduces (documents) fraudulently, in post-classical Latin also person who subdues.

 

 

Tonight, after a very nice video-chat with a friend of mine, Dan Hanley, I decided to light up a bowl (at the end of our conversation I told Dan that I was going to light up a bowl), and as I sat here on the porch tonight, I got inspired to write. The subject matter? “Conscientious Objector” versus
“Conscious Subjector” “and how it relates to the horrid act we call 9-11.

10:30PM here and 11:30AM in Islamabad, Pakistan where Dan lives. Although this was our first video-chat, we have been “friends” on farcecrap for about six months. As it turns out, Dan is close to my age. I’m 70, turning 71 in August, and Dan is 69, turning 70 in May? Can’t remember the month.

Besides age, the other thing we discovered, or at least confirmed tonight, is the fact that we believe the same things have happened and are continuing to happen in our world.

One shared and overwhelming belief is that the attack on the World Trade Center was a “False Flag” operation by the Mossad and the CIA, along with some really sick Zionists who gained profit by the total destruction of the three buildings. The Military/Industrial Complex laughed all the way to the bank after 9-11. Added to that belief, Dan and I both believe that the total collapse of the buildings was due to a planned, and engineered demolition, what is referred to as “Building Implosion”.

In the controlled demolition industry, building implosion is the strategic placing of explosive material and timing of its detonation so that a structure collapses on itself in a matter of seconds, minimizing the physical damage to its immediate surroundings (from Wikipedia).

What this means for you folk that didn’t quite get a proper education and lack Common Sense or you folks with advanced degrees and not an ounce of Common Sense is……Explosives are strategically placed in the building and set off in a certain order, by computer program, in such a way that the building falls on itself at the same time that the building itself is being vaporized. Picture being “Vaporized”.

Dan’s expertise and beliefs, are two of the reasons why we became friends on farcecrap. That is, his perspective of 9-11 as a former pilot with 35-years of combined experience, having flown 20,000 flight hours in U. S. Naval and Commercial Aviation. Please visit  http://pakistantruther.blogspot.com/2015/05/who-is-captain-dan-hanley.html for his thoughts of how 9-11 happened (based on a pilot’s expertise and knowledge). Dan’s farcecrap page is: https://www.facebook.com/dan.hanley.98?fref=pb&hc_location=friends_tab

So, here I am, writing about something that is not directly related to 9 -11, but is distinctively related because of its nature, and its relation to how distorted our species has become in such a short time, i.e., the beginning of my inspiration to write about the difference between a “Conscientious Objector” versus “Conscious Subjector”. Think about it.

Up to and including the Vietnam War, a “Conscientious Objector” as I have explained earlier, was during a time period before the invention of modern day video games, you know, the ones wartime games where YOU have a weapon of some sort and you are searching (building to building) for the BAD GUYS so you can shoot them violently, scattering their blood and blown apart bodies as if you were in a chicken coop shooting at that nasty weasel that’s been killing your chickens.

Point is before video games came along, the average Joe was patriotic, regardless of wither he was drafted or enlisted on his own. Sure, the military trained us to do whatever was necessary to eliminate the enemy. The difference was how and what we were taught, versus the dude today that goes in with a preset mind and spirit that enjoys the prospect of REALLY killing someone (his opponent (s). That in itself is a whole different story. How young men today who have obsessed themselves with the WARS they waged on their video monitor, go into the military with a warped brain/attitude to satisfy that horrific, almost lust for death and destruction.

These are the dudes that I categorize as
“Conscious Subjector”. Go back if you need to, to refresh yourself with what is defined as a “Conscious Subjector”. I believe, as of this writing, that this is the first use of that term in this comparison.

There were many, thousands, of “Conscientious Objectors” during the Vietnam War. The young dudes of that day, especially the ones that were drafted, that had legitimate reasons to object to carrying a weapon or killing another human being, were treated far much better than their WW2 counter parts. I think that was the very beginning of the expansion of our thoughts and the acknowledgement of a truth that went against the majority of the population as far as WAR is concerned. Then we evolved, with the evolution of video gaming, and how I believe it contributed to the distortion of young men’s minds.

In WW2, a “Conscientious Objector” in your squad, company, or division for that matter was rare. They were scorned and physically abused sometimes for their strong belief in not killing another human being or other reason of their conscious . That generation’s mindset at that time, resulting in a huge surge of volunteers, was obviously patriotism, the desire to “defend our country”, especially against the Japanese. I wonder what percentage of the military were dudes that joined because they loved to kill? Not a large percentage.

One only needs to read the story of the first “Conscientious Objector” during WW2 that was awarded the Medal of Honor, and lived to talk about it. His name was Desmond Doss. There has only been one other to date, Thomas William Bennett (April 7, 1947 – February 11, 1969) who was a U.S. Army medic killed in action during the Vietnam War. I watched the Mel Gibson directed movie about Desmond Doss the other night, and all I have to say is that it’s his best as a director. Rent or buy it, title: HACKSAW RIDGE

So, in conclusion, the sickness of war has caught up with the technical side, i.e., weaponry. Now instead of scrambling from trench to trench, or foxhole to foxhole, these “trained” killers (I refuse to use the term, warriors) are miles away from the battle field, looking at a monitor, flying an unmanned flying weapon into a crowd of innocent people, killing 14 and wounding 29, including women and children, what we call “Non-Combatants”. That same mentality is also found in the grunts who are right there in the thick of battle because of some advanced Intel that there are scores of enemy soldiers in that building over there, to our left. The same mentality as the so-called soldiers, “defenders of our nation” throwing small puppies and/or kittens in the air for target practice like what we used to call a “Turkey Shoot”. Certainly, it takes a warped mind to do a lot of things, but shooting a kitten? Come on!

So, think about it. Do we as a nation, as a species, want to continue down this path? Do we have the capacity to love others around us, regardless of our religious beliefs, or culture? The answer is YES.

This is how the two subjects, what happened on 9-11, and “Conscious Subjectors”, are related. Our species has evolved in such a way that we have become “Conscious Subjectors”. The people that REALLY brought down the World Trade Center buildings have a mindset exactly like, and are are just as much “Conscious Subjectors” as that soldier finding a warped sense of pleasure in killing ANYONE that gets in his sights. The folks I’m talking about want to rid themselves of 80% of the world’s population! How fucked up is that? We need to change, and rapidly as possible. Change to a species that can give up war, turn the swords back into plowshares. If we can’t do that, we are doomed.

P. S. Being that I am an optimist, I believe that I will live long enough to one day hear my grandson say to me, “Grandpa, please tell me again what war and killing people was all about”.  I believe we will find peace eventually if we can accomplish a miracle or two, or three. If you agree to all the wars, and you are a shareholder in several companies that manufacture weapons of war, it is beyond stupid, it’s insane, give yourself a Lobotomy. If you are a Zebraist, or support Zebraism, your just due is coming very soon.

We sometimes think it is hopeless and against all odds, but hey, we are part of the 99% against the 1% that currently have absolute control. We can and shall overcome the odds, but only if we truly ORGANIZE. Otherwise, we are all just as a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”. Some thoughts on possible miracles/solutions can be found on the following GOFUNDME page. If you have questions, suggestions, comments, etcetera, again, please feel free to contact me. You can contact me by farcecrap PM, send me an email or fill out the contact form below. Thank you.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/like-a-single-fly-farting-in-the-wind

For my faithful readers that are aware that I’m finally working on “The Dead Armadillo” story, like say, a Producer, or a Director, or a Screenwriter or someone or a company that desires to option my novel, you can contact me at any time, night or day. If you are a one of those faithful readers that wish to read and follow my progress as I work on this novel, I will be posting updates as a PDF file on every new post on this website/blog. Here’s the latest of “The Dead Armadillo”

TheDeadArmadilloManuscript101019

For those of you that would care to get involved with me on this project, as I intend to hire a professional screenwriter at some point, and produce a feature film, I have recently been approved for a KICKSTARTER campaign where you can contribute. Here is the link to the KICKSTARTER campaign.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thedeadarmadillo/the-dead-armadillo

Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD, RSISHE

Get on board my attempt at organizing folks by joining us by “clicking” on the following link:

ITAD-NAO Home

Some immediate needs. On a volunteer basis for now, we need a WEBMASTER who can work on the ITAD-NAO website, we need a person skilled in “Crowd-Funding” and “Director of Charitable Giving”, we need an attorney to help in the legal matters for ITAD_NAO, including setting us up as a tax-exempt “Church”, we need a Certified CPA to insure the financial integrity of the ITAD-NAO organization, we need a “Chief of Security”, we need a film-maker, first for YouTube, eventually for larger platforms, plus a few other positions. We believe that somewhere down the road, a Billionaire will step up to the plate and write a check for $50 Million or so, which will turn those volunteer positions into paid positions.

 

 

 

 

Send Dr. Saxe a message using the form below:

 

 

 

 

 

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

So, Mr. BIG FOOT THE BIKER DUDE, sir, how did you get the name “Big Foot” the Biker Dude?

Big foot the Biker Dude

I’m often confused with that sasquatch fellow because of my extremely hairy body, but not mistaken for that “I’m going to stick my BIG FOOT up your ass” dude that wants to meet you in the alley behind the bar. (canned  ewwws & ahhhs as he puts his right foot up on the desk).

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

Well, you certainly do have a lot of body hair. Your facial hair is so thick I can barely see your eyes. (canned laughter). No offense, but that’s a huge foot you have there. What size boot is that, and how did your feet get so big?

Big foot the Biker Dude

My right foot is a size 32W, and my left foot is slightly larger, size 34W. I came out of my mother’s womb with these feet. She had to have a Cesarean of course. They all thought my mother was having triplets, until they saw my feet. (canned chuckles from audience).

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

I noticed when we met before the show, you’re a tall dude. How tall are you?…..Six-foot nine I bet….

Big foot the Biker Dude

I’m exactly six-foot eleven and 7/8″ tall

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

Wow! Seven foot tall!!

Big foot the Biker Dude

I said……….I’m exactly six-foot eleven and 7/8″ tall…(Grimacing stare)

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

A little self-conscious about your heighth? I’d be more self-conscious about your huge fucking feet if I were you. How about your weight? I’m guessing 280 pounds.

Big foot the Biker Dude

I’m right at 299 and 3/4 pounds, I lost a pound or two in jail last week.

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

Three hundred pounds! Wow! Well, I certainly would not want to run into you and your fatso girlfriend in a dark alley (canned laughter). (a menacing look from Big Foot the Biker Dude as the audience is laughing).

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

Back to the incident the other night behind Billybob’s Bar and Grill in Simi Valley, California. Is violence necessary just because someone made an off-color remark to your 400 pound significant other? All the poor chap said was that it looked like her bra straps were potentially cutting off the blood supply to her brain. (canned laughter).

Big foot the Biker Dude

I’m actually a Vegan.

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

What the fuck does that have to do with literally beating the crap out of that elderly gentleman in the wheelchair the other night?

Big foot the Biker Dude

I like squash. I like to squash my opponents balls with my big left foot. I also really love cauliflower. I love to put my opponent in a head-lock so tight, it gives him “cauliflower ears”.

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

So you’re a Vegan. Anything else we need to know about you before we go to a commercial break?

Big foot the Biker Dude

I leave next week for the Minnesota Viking’s Training Camp. I can kick a football 83 yards on average. My longest punt was just shy of a hundred yards.

The Great Unknown Sock Puppet

Wow! That is amazing. Well, good luck to you Mr. Big Foot the Biker Dude, and thank you for coming on our show, “THE GREAT UNKNOWN SOCK  PUPPET INTERVIEWS”……(canned applause).

 

Now for all the manly men watching tonight’s show. Is your skin rough, scaly, and/or chapped? The answer is…..“EASEECUM”. EASEECUM will turn your rough, scaly arms and legs into skin so soft and smooth, you will think you are feeling a baby’s butt”, (canned applause, fade to commercial).

 

 

Stay tuned for more of the best interviews from THE UNKNOWN SOCK PUPPET INTERVIEWS

The following post was inspired by a simple cell phone message to my kids, after spending Christmas Eve with them.

Cell Phone message: “The clouds are really low tonight. I reached up, and stuck a hand through one of those moonlit clouds, and when I lowered my hand, it was wet. Thank you both for the delicious food and the gifts! Merry Christmas!”

Then I wrote the following:

Living up here in the Los Padres National Forest I know it’s the same experience that hard-core campers have. Hard-Core Campers are the real nature lover/addicts that camp more than eight times a year. They are the campers/nature lovers that experience the puffy clouds flying by so low, you can almost stick your hand through it.

People who camp once or twice a year, are who I call the “Family Campers”. You know the campers who could care less about the environment, and trash the camp grounds. The “Family Camper” has like a 50/50 chance of witnessing the low-flying cloud phenomenon, I. e., it’s raining, or the clouds are so thick, that you can’t see the field of stars that the low-flying clouds are racing through. There’s also a 50/50 chance that the “Family Camper” is so drunk he can’t see the sky anyway.

I can remember times when I camped at a high elevation. I can distinctly remember seeing the jillions and jillions of stars, and how low the clouds seemed to be…..Not “seemed to be” but “truly how low the clouds were”. The simple explanation is that when you are 4,000 feet above sea level, think about it. A mile is 5,280 feet above sea level. The really low flying clouds ARE closer. Duuuuuu.

Well tonight, I’m out on my patio finishing up the third and final night of a “Really Primo Pre-Roll”, and looking up, I’m amazed how low some of the puffy clouds are. I stuck one of my hands through one of those clouds, and about 3 seconds or so later retrieved my hand and it was……..(wait for it)……..WET! Of course I’m not serious. I really can’t stick my hands through a low flying cloud, they just seem so close because of the third and final night of a “Really Primo Pre-Roll”. I swear I just heard the jingling of the bells of Santa’s Sleigh, and………

You know Dasher and Dancer,
And Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid,
And Donner and Blitzen,
But do you recall
The most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer
Had a very shiny nose.
And if you ever saw him,
You would even say it glows.
All of the other reindeer
Used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Rudolph
Play in any reindeer games.
Then one foggy Christmas eve
Santa came to say,

Peace & Abide

This was Christmas Eve, 2018

Dr. T. C. Saxe. DD

Strain: SeattlesBest1, harvested September 23rd, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

Postscript: Another phenomenon that these low-flying wispy clouds exhibit is that as they gently move along at what seems to be several miles per hour, from the North East to the South West, they are being pushed by a gentle wind that tries to blow them apart, but doesn’t. The bulk of these low-flying clouds stay together, but they change shape constantly. In micro-seconds changing from a giant lion, to an elephant, to a shape that resembles a woman giving some dude a blowjob, back to a rooster, then a 32 Ford Jalopy as it drifts out of view. By the way, those wispy, shape-shifting, low-flying clouds disappeared, leaving behind a moonlit start sky, which turned into misty rain. Over a period of two hours.

One last thought. I get a lot of traffic on my website/blog, and because of that, I thought it was time to encourage my friends/readers to visit my other major website www.itad-nao.com. I am serious about what the website says and what it stands for. So, if you got this far on this post, please take a few minutes and visit The International Tabernacle of Abiding Dudeism. Thank you.

Spoof Commercial

For a Men’s Skin lotion

Opening shot of the warning: “This commercial has a few scenes that contain material that may be a little bit raw or offensive to some viewers, and yet, clever in its use of subtle rawness.

First Scene or portion: A manly man (actually an ordinary man with a slight beer belly) is standing there in front of the bathroom mirror, vigorously rubbing EASEECUM Men’s Medical Miracle Skin Cream on his face neck and arms, then his hairless chest. The camera zooms in on the manly man’s facial skin, with a severe case of razor rash.

The camera continues to zoom in, thru all the microscopic levels. All of a sudden, the scene is of the manly man laying in bed, squirting a healthy portion of EASEECUM Men’s Medical Miracle Skin Cream on his right hand……….Then the camera sees a blurry shot (“in motion, after all, this is motion picture quality Spoof Commercial”) to the manly man’s hand gripping his penis in a choke hold worthy of WWE, i.e., he’s masturbating, as the celebrity voice for the commercial is saying, just as the manly man orgasmatically squirts a huge stream of cum, “EASEECUM will turn your rough, scaly arms and legs into skin so soft and smooth, you will think you are feeling a baby’s butt”. Then at the precise peak of orgasm, the manly man is screaming out, “OHHHHHHHHHHBABYOHHHHA”.

Back to the zoom in of the bottle of EASEECUM, as the main celebrity voice is saying, “Only $9.99 per bottle (plus S & H)…..But wait! There’s more! Order now and receive a SECOND bottle absolutely FREE!!! (just pay separate s & h). Operators are standing by for your call!  Of course, throughout the commercial, the toll-free number is on the screen for a bit, then it disappears.

The cleverness of the disappearing act on the part of the “toll free number”, is that as part of the audience, you think to yourself, “Shit, I should have written that number down”. After a slight pause, you are saying, “Melba, get me a pen and a piece of paper”….Thinks to himself, “I KNOW that they are going to show that number again”.

Well, that’s ALLLLL folks!

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C/ Saxe, DD

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

One last thought. I get a lot of traffic on my website/blog, and because of that, I thought it was time to encourage my friends/readers to visit my other major website www.itad-nao.com. I am serious about what the website says and what it stands for. So, if you got this far on this post, please take a few minutes and visit The International Tabernacle of Abiding Dudeism. Thank you.

A few things happened tonight on a few different occasions as I took my potty-get coffee-sit on the patio-and smoke a bowl break from writing. This has been typical when I partake of a little MJ and look at the wonderful star-filled sky (at night of course).

Number 1: As I sat there enjoying the evening, looking up frequently at the night sky above the Los Padres National Forest where I live, I spotted 7 different aircraft going in 4 different directions and I thought, “Wow! I’ve never seen so many planes in the sky before…..usually I see three at most, sometimes only one, and then five minutes later, another one or two go slowly in whatever direction, lights blinking.” Hey! Wait a minute, I say to myself, “Those aircraft, all seven of them, looked like they were as high as the stars around them, and I didn’t see any blinking red and blue lights on these planes.”

So I take another swig of coffee, a puff or two off my Swisher Sweet Cigarillo, and then a hit on my “Unique, one of a kind, driftwood pipe, that I made myyyyyself. 

I look back up again, and four of the seven “aircraft” are gone, and three of them are making these darting moves, going one direction and then reversing and going back the same way that they just came from.

CRAZY! Either I’ve just seen a sky full of UFO’s, or this weed has affected my vision. Then I laugh my ass off for a minute or two, go back in the house and start writing again.

Number 2: Number Two, really should be Number One. About an hour or so before my UFO sighting, I was doing the same thing…….the potty-get coffee-sit on the patio-and smoke a bowl break from writing, I saw three shooting stars. Moving so quick, it was coincidental that I just happen to look up at that exact moment, those split seconds, to see it. I say “it” because the three shooting stars did their thing, separately, several minutes apart. Not like normally seeing one, perhaps three, airplanes slowly moving, lights blinking, towards their separate destinations.

In conclusion, this certainly was some great weed tonight. And a great experience watching, by coincidence, the three shooting stars. And even a greater experience seeing seven UFO’s at the same time.

Peace and Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: SeattlesBest1, harvested September 23rd, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts, I have set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

Postscript: Did the weed (home-grown from Washington State) distort my vision, and thus, my “Minds Eye” of what I saw? Or did the weed enhance my vision allowing me to see things that our eyes normally can’t see?

Postscript Number two: Those of you that consistently read my blog, know that I am a proponent of “Writing” as a sort of mental therapy for all sorts of mental issues, and those that know me personally know that I have recently been suffering excruciating back pain from a back injury fifty years ago. Prescription Pain Pills only do so much and ALEVE
(naproxen) doing less. I can definitely attribute my LACK of pain in my back to the bowl of weed I smoked tonight.

Postscript Number Three: It’s 2:48AM, and at 2:36AM I decided to go out on the patio, feeling like I was finished with this little bit of prose. No coffee, no home-made pipe with a bowl-load of grass, just a Swisher Sweet. I definitely know that the Cannabis enhanced my hearing tonight, (those of you that know me personally, know that I’m slightly hard of hearing).

So I’m sitting there, periodically gazing at the heavens (I see the Big Dipper) and suddenly I hear the sounds of footsteps. Thinking prowler at first, I turn on my Tactical Flashlight thinking prowler or possibly a bear, and see a small deer walking through the front yard. Do you know what deer footsteps sound like? I do now, thanks to the weed.

One last thought. I get a lot of traffic on my website/blog, and because of that, I thought it was time to encourage my friends/readers to visit my other major website www.itad-nao.com. I am serious about what the website says and what it stands for. So, if you got this far on this post, please take a few minutes and visit The International Tabernacle of Abiding Dudeism. Thank you.

Mark, the dude that bought my house, has been here about a week, waiting for his stuff, and waiting for me to move out. During the week, every night we sit on the porch, light up, talk about every subject under the sun. Occasionally, Mark would share some of his grass. A little bit here, a little there. Tonight, he walks up the steps of the porch holding a bag of Washington State home grown. I called my son to say hello, share my great day I had today. Part of my voice message (voice mail?) I’m telling Tommy this story, “Tommy, this is a gallon freezer ziplock bag, half full, a fricken quart of BUD, no twigs or dust or dirt, ALL BUD.

Now at least three hours into relaxation and conversation, Mark says……

Mark: “I’m not insane!…..I’m not left handed!”

Needless to say, I almost busted a gut laughing.  Let me tell you a little bit about Mark. He has a few issues he’s successfully dealing with mentally, don’t we all?  Mark is one of the most intelligent human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He also is one of the naturally, funniest people I have ever met. So he has a few problems, so do I.

Tonight, I decided to turn on some music on Direct TV. Started out with some Blues, changed to Jazz, then settled on music of the 60’s. How wonderfully therapeutic. Song after song, reliving those years of my youth. Just a little bit before Mark’s teen years. Bob Dylan singing “Like a Rolling Stone”, Donavan singing, “Mellow Yellow”, Leonard Cohen singing “Suzanne”. Song after song bringing us both back to our individual memories, at a school dance, the drive-in Intermission music. playing on the radio in my cousin Butch’s 65 Malibu.

What I am saying is that for me, as well as for Mark, tonight, in general, the music, great weed, lots of “Bust your Gut” laughter’ has been very therapeutic. Soothing, satisfying, healing, expanding our brains with the game of trying to guess a band or singer’s name, what year or era. The brain exercise is wonderful for healing areas of our psyche that man-made medicines can’t touch. I believe it is a great natural remedy for many psychosis like PTSD, Schizophrenic related issues, depression, etceteras.  As I just said to Mark, I put a “Groove” on it tonight, referring to my writing of this post.

Last thought. Mark and I were sitting here, trying to figure out what MILF stood for. Many VERY wrong guesses and much laughter. It was obvious that neither one of us knew what it stood for. Possibly because none of our friends in High School had busty, sexpots for mothers. So, I googled it on my Samsung Tablet, gave Mark the answer, and we both laughed again.

It’s now 1:27AM Thursday morning. We started last night around 7:00PM. I really enjoyed the evening, the conversation, the laughter, and the great stimulus for my brain. Thanks for reading my sometimes serious posts, and sometimes frivolous posts. This coming Saturday I pack up the U-Haul and head to Southern California. Hope to see you all then.

Peace & Abide,

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: SeattlesBest1, harvested September 23rd, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.

 

It’s 2:30AM, and I have been playing Texas No-Limit Poker online via Farcecraps WSOP  “App” for several hours. Here’s a little bit of advice. It’s time to quit and go to bed when this happens to you.

I have written about this before, when to “Slow Play” a hand, and when NOT to “Slow Play” a hand. We have all been on the receiving end with a losing hand when someone else slow plays a “Nuts” hand. Here’s a play by play example of a hand that should convince you when it’s time to go to bed.

Before the FLOP: I’ve been dealt a pocket pair, of ACES, an Ace of Spades, and an Ace of Clubs, so I slow play, limping in. Limping in is when you just call and not raise before the “FLOP” hoping that everyone else limps in as well, which in this case, they do.

The “FLOP”: The flop is a Jack of Clubs, a Queen of Clubs, and an Ace of Diamonds. So now I have TRIP ACES, and there is a strong possibility that a few of the other players have hit either with pocket Jacks, pocket Queens, or straight draws.

Everyone limps through the “TURN” card, which is the Ace of Hearts. The table now reads Jack of Clubs, Queen of Clubs, Ace of Diamonds, and Ace of Hearts. At this point, before the “River” card is dealt, there are possible straights, possible full houses, and for sure possible hands with trips (three of a kind) facing you before the “River” card is dealt. I have four Aces BEFORE the “River” card is dealt.

The dude with what he thinks is the “Nuts” with a flopped “straight” bets. The dudette with what she thinks is also the “Nuts” with the “Turn” card making her “Full House Queens over Aces” raises. Everyone else has folded. You really like the betting action but have closed your eyes for what you thought was just a “second”. It’s my turn now to bet, to go “All In” before the “River” card is dealt, but I AM momentarily asleep.

With Farcecrap’s app, there is a timer, which if you don’t call or raise, you are AUTOMATICALLY FOLDED in that hand. It’s just a second or three, but when I open my eyes back up, I have run out of time, and my hole cards, those pocket aces, are “greyed out”, and I watch in horror as I see this gigantic pot of $30 Million or so, go to the dudette with the “Full House” against your folded four Aces.

Moral of the story. That certainly was the right time to “Slow Play” my hand, but the wrong time to close my eyes (just for a second”. I try not to play when I’m that tired. That hand was a REAL bad beat, like beat MYSELF with a rubber hose, bad beat. Hahahahahaha.

Peace & Abide,

 

 

Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Strain: Grand-Ma’sBellyButtonLint, harvested September 23rd, 2018

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some Cannabis, homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.