Pasta, Carbs, High wires, Live Wires and Pastafarianisms
Dear Readers,
I was there, those pictures linked here.....
http://www.arktimes.com/blogs/arkansasblog/2008/09/way_to_go_matie.aspx
Are without me in the picture, but I was there off and on over the course of the debate with the guys, gals, kids and signage or were they hating 3M for post-it-notes not banners reading fags are hated by GOD, the sign of the times was me seeing the sign that read from where I stood a bit away about 30 yards to as much as 50 yards it read.
GOD HATES FAGS
A fag if anyone wants to look it up is a stick, a faggot is a bundle of fags, fags are also cancer sticks, nicotine dip sticks, or dip this stick in my nicotine fun punch and light me up BABY. In other words fags are not gay blades... or does that me Gaye my friend is Gay by anyone other name, Fay is my mom, but also the Fay that showed me the house at 111 Bluebell North Little Rock, which is by the way for Sale by owner for the modest price of 87,000 dollars rubels, euros, or gold coins you will have to call the number which if I remember correctly is not going to be pined about on here because I don't want to move my legs to go get my cell phone and off load it just right now. But for some nice shows the garage will house a nice band...
God Hates Sin, not those that sin, not you that Homosexual friend of mine that is reading this nor those people that were holding those misguided signs up there, I walked about the area and thought and spoke and they did not speak back they were moot and told me nothing I did not already about what they thought about me and my ilk. I was a faggot to them and maggot a slug on my finger held out to be shot from their guns to kill me and get me thee rid of you and get out of our face you homo loving non-catholic-non-baptist that does not see us eye to eye cause we are holding this here black mirrored shades over our eyes on an otherwise non that bright day.
Daniel if you read this soon in the coming weeks years or whenever I asked if I could see your place and I know you said no, because you were trying to politely or not refuse a pirate lover like me, and unknown Ilkish person you barely know whose habits you know because Nita and her being our coffee GODESS, or is it GoDDeSS, oh well AnDinA Cafe, hand me a smoke let me yell honk my duckish horn for your sign and cutlass that cute lass away from me. I will not be told that my GOd hates anyone and not stand there silent about it. I will Honk, Snort pasta and eat rice a roni through a straw while preforming brain surgery on the common garden slug on the end of my pointer finger.
Pop a slug into the mouth chamber, yes yes that slug leaving a slime trail on my carport's floor. Pick him her it up and test out if he she it is not going to fall off your finger. Open your mouth and pop them inside your lips and over your tongue then gulp real big and smile real big and tell the folks back home that magic is the pastafarians way.
I told these folks this tale of woe, the dead slug that I found and how with a little sweet southern style tea and some Gusano's homemade Jager-Bombs I was able to revive this poor dead newly found homeless and helpless street or was it garden slug sitting in the window sill's light way. I just pop it into my mouth and swallowed them down my gullet.
About a half hour later while trying to show that I am a merciful person of unknown ILK, I showed my friends and gasping hangers on that I had indeed not eaten that poor slug but let my mouth's enzymes clear them off and healed them and proped them up on the glass plate in front of my lips.
You see life is full of surprises and I harness them whenever I can. I shot my smoke out my mouth and head rush my methods in a meth-heads head rush, the brain has head rushs and you have to know which Zen master to listen too when 12 of them are talking at the same time and you are listening to Yoda tell Obi Wan that Blah BlahBLAH is not going on. Who Taught Yoda, Which Yoda drove my U Go Off that cliff out back and when did Zen Master Tim Murray Die in the last ditch effort to save Mary from the Turtles....... Ad Lib I Mad Lip Lid Lib faster than most people you know.
Sign me up Daniel!
Charles
YOUR Brother in Christ.
I was there, those pictures linked here.....
http://www.arktimes.com/blogs/arkansasblog/2008/09/way_to_go_matie.aspx
Are without me in the picture, but I was there off and on over the course of the debate with the guys, gals, kids and signage or were they hating 3M for post-it-notes not banners reading fags are hated by GOD, the sign of the times was me seeing the sign that read from where I stood a bit away about 30 yards to as much as 50 yards it read.
GOD HATES FAGS
A fag if anyone wants to look it up is a stick, a faggot is a bundle of fags, fags are also cancer sticks, nicotine dip sticks, or dip this stick in my nicotine fun punch and light me up BABY. In other words fags are not gay blades... or does that me Gaye my friend is Gay by anyone other name, Fay is my mom, but also the Fay that showed me the house at 111 Bluebell North Little Rock, which is by the way for Sale by owner for the modest price of 87,000 dollars rubels, euros, or gold coins you will have to call the number which if I remember correctly is not going to be pined about on here because I don't want to move my legs to go get my cell phone and off load it just right now. But for some nice shows the garage will house a nice band...
God Hates Sin, not those that sin, not you that Homosexual friend of mine that is reading this nor those people that were holding those misguided signs up there, I walked about the area and thought and spoke and they did not speak back they were moot and told me nothing I did not already about what they thought about me and my ilk. I was a faggot to them and maggot a slug on my finger held out to be shot from their guns to kill me and get me thee rid of you and get out of our face you homo loving non-catholic-non-baptist that does not see us eye to eye cause we are holding this here black mirrored shades over our eyes on an otherwise non that bright day.
Daniel if you read this soon in the coming weeks years or whenever I asked if I could see your place and I know you said no, because you were trying to politely or not refuse a pirate lover like me, and unknown Ilkish person you barely know whose habits you know because Nita and her being our coffee GODESS, or is it GoDDeSS, oh well AnDinA Cafe, hand me a smoke let me yell honk my duckish horn for your sign and cutlass that cute lass away from me. I will not be told that my GOd hates anyone and not stand there silent about it. I will Honk, Snort pasta and eat rice a roni through a straw while preforming brain surgery on the common garden slug on the end of my pointer finger.
Pop a slug into the mouth chamber, yes yes that slug leaving a slime trail on my carport's floor. Pick him her it up and test out if he she it is not going to fall off your finger. Open your mouth and pop them inside your lips and over your tongue then gulp real big and smile real big and tell the folks back home that magic is the pastafarians way.
I told these folks this tale of woe, the dead slug that I found and how with a little sweet southern style tea and some Gusano's homemade Jager-Bombs I was able to revive this poor dead newly found homeless and helpless street or was it garden slug sitting in the window sill's light way. I just pop it into my mouth and swallowed them down my gullet.
About a half hour later while trying to show that I am a merciful person of unknown ILK, I showed my friends and gasping hangers on that I had indeed not eaten that poor slug but let my mouth's enzymes clear them off and healed them and proped them up on the glass plate in front of my lips.
You see life is full of surprises and I harness them whenever I can. I shot my smoke out my mouth and head rush my methods in a meth-heads head rush, the brain has head rushs and you have to know which Zen master to listen too when 12 of them are talking at the same time and you are listening to Yoda tell Obi Wan that Blah BlahBLAH is not going on. Who Taught Yoda, Which Yoda drove my U Go Off that cliff out back and when did Zen Master Tim Murray Die in the last ditch effort to save Mary from the Turtles....... Ad Lib I Mad Lip Lid Lib faster than most people you know.
Sign me up Daniel!
Charles
YOUR Brother in Christ.
posted by Charles Edward Owens Jr. at 9:24 PM
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