Thursday, November 20, 2014

http://sworddancewarrior.wordpress.com

MAY WE DANCE ON THEIR GRAVES

I have just come across this blog and I am in love with this woman already!  Just because it looks like
we both like dark humor.  I can picture her standing with a sweet smile saying the above title!

I will be delving into more of this site very soon.  It looks like a great deal of wonderfully helpful
advice with a great deal of common sense (which I Love).


http://sworddancewarrior.wordpress.com



A Conversation With a Friend about Life, Keep The Faith

I was speaking with a friend of 23 years about life and what we have and have not accomplished.
This friend has been feeling that they have not accomplished all that they set out to.  My friend told
me about a similar conversation with another friend who stated that sometimes you can not accomplish
much until you clear the table.  Clearing the table referred to wiping away all the misinformation that
we have been wrongfully taught.  Some people just have more to clear away.

I agree with this assessment completely.  I also want to ad to this that some people such as myself have
to also put all the pieces together from our shattered childhoods.

It is spoken of a great deal in the Gnostic Tradition that we don't have to accomplish great things, we just need to keep moving forward.  We are in fact doing some pretty amazing things just for living in
and surviving such a negative place as the school we call Earth.

Clear away your table in your space and time and Keep the Faith.  Put your puzzle together in your own space and time.  And Keep The Faith.


Tuesday, November 18, 2014

DARK HUMOR - Twas The Night Before Christmas (Santa Was A Pedophile)

Twas the night before Christmas and all thro’ the house, 
There was one creature stirring, it wasn’t the mouse;
His stocking was hung in my face with such dare,
In hopes that his dickolas would soon be “down there”;
My siblings were nestled all snug in there beds, 
While I gave that damn ass hole some wonderful head, 
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and my diaper full of crap,
If I did not a good job, “Santa” gave me a slap’
He had just settled into a nice rhythmic fuck, 
I soon had the feeling, I’m fresh out of luck. 
When out in the hall there rose such a clatter, 
My mother came in to see what was the matter. 
Away under the bus I flew in a flash, 
Tossed me under the tire, then made a mad dash. 
The moon on my face with his milky white snow, 
At the corners of my mouth, no suspicion arose?  
When what do my wondering ears they do hear,
A little “white lie” and a suggestion of more beer.
That little old driver, an asshole so quick,
I knew I was stuck with this horrible prick. 
More rapid than eagles his lies when they came, 
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name, 
Now dash here, now dance here, now prance here you vixen, 
On Trusting, on Believing at Once you poor victim.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! 
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry heaves from the assault, the wild hurricane did fly, 
When they met with an obstacle, mounted to “that guy”,
So up to the house-top the course that he flew, 
To control all of the aspects of live that was below.
Then to my deep dismay that I saw from this land,
The wanting and yearning of many small hands,
As he held my small head, my head spinning around, 
Down my throat did st. Dick, he had cum with a bound:
Then he dressed and changed my diaper then kissed my small foot,
And his big smile was tainted, that ass hole’s a coot, 
A bundle of lies he had flung on my back:
His eyes how they squinted and dared me to speak,
His cheeks were  were so rosy, the liquor did reek;
His droll little mouth had a nasty smirked smile, 
And the acts he inflicted made me throw up some bile.
The stump of his pipe he held down past my teeth,
And the stroke of his dick held my head in the wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly, 
That shook when he fuck, my face like it’s jelly:

He was controlling and a grump a wright he gave to himself, 
And I cried when I saw him, I had no “myself”,
A squint of his eye and a punch to my head
Soon gave me the knowledge there’s so much to dread.
He spoke not one word, he went straight to his “work”,
He drained my poor childhood, turned on me; such a jerk.
And laying his middle finger upon me he chose, 
To give the world his warped view and came smelling like a rose. 
He sprung to his family, to his team he gave a whistle, 
And away they all flew, I had to swallow another thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight;
My sons under the left tire, and to all a a good night. 





It is near the Holiday Season and I thought I would repost this.  Such dark humor.  Sorry if you are offended but this type
of dark humor helps me get through life.  Who else but a survivor of darkness could write such horrible things?!?  ;-)