Vote
or not
You too can bring back the good days...
Pre- Bush Wackers
Pre-Hillary and what's his name.
Pre -Bush Wack one (1) (W.H)
Pre - The Ol' Ranger
Pre - Jimmy
Pre- Jerry
Post - Tricky Dickie.
Bring them back alive.
Vote
or not
You too can bring back the good days...
Pre- Bush Wackers
Pre-Hillary and what's his name.
Pre -Bush Wack one (1) (W.H)
Pre - The Ol' Ranger
Pre - Jimmy
Pre- Jerry
Post - Tricky Dickie.
Bring them back alive.
Ok, Ok, All Right. YOu are all right, correct, not wrong.
I am the big loser, you win.
All ya'll win! (see last post)
All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home
All your reindeer armies, are all going home
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken al here blankets from the floor
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it's all over now, Bayb Blue.
But I can change.
I can give up the Gloom and Doom.
I don’t live in
I live in South Florida, warm, balmy, cool breeze, just too cool for school.
Think I’ll begin to listen to Barry-I-use-to-write-the-songs-MadLow.
Think I'll vote for Ricky Scott, and Marko Rubio.
Hell might even, back the Tea Party and pray for Sarah, ex-wife of Abraham to become the next prez of these united states.
Yeah Buddy.
Some days it is all just to weary.
Alls we have to do is get the queers out of the army.
And War will end.
It all started back in high school, when a chum told me about a guy named Bob Dylan. (die lan to him). I got ‘the freewheelin’ Bob Dylan’ and was knocked out’! Well time passes and we both go off to THE
Fast Forward to this week. (48 years later)
I email a buddy that I’m going to hear Dylan on the spur of the moment. Ya Know, friendship stuff and like that there.
This is what I get back.
{He Wrote Me}
second, minute, whatthefuk. I sent you an email yesterday, fully aware that you were going to see the boss,,,er, no, dillion...wait...how the hell did they get
Back to the email of yesteryore. I knew you would not respond last night, but now I want to know whyyyyyyyyyy, Y you are iggggggnoring it today? You think that weak phone call took care of it and you wouldn't have to deal with the jaded one again today, is that it? WELL excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse the fuck me.
YOU
WERE
WRONG...
as rain!
Mr. Huggies
[I wrote Him]
Jeszzzzeee My Kneezzzzzzzzeeeeesssss
I must apologize for being wrong.
If you would [fucking] be so [fucking] kind
As to [fucking] let me [fucking] know
Just what [thefuck] it was that I [fucking] did that I was
Soooooooooooooooooooooo [fffFF
[Fucking] wrong
A[fuckin]bout!
It would make my [fucking] APOLoGY more
[Fucking] meaning [fuckin] full.
And heart [fuckin’] Felt!
[fucking] Fuck [fucking] you.
Punch.
On another note; Dylan was just what I hoped for.
I bought a Tea Shirt that I’m sure was made in
Dylan is wearing a white hat. Is that cool or What??
Look at that fat hollow body being played by the lead guitarist.
[He wrote Me]
Man....THAT IS ONE FUCKING COOL ASS PHOTOGRAPH! NO SHIT.
[I wrote Him]
Thanks, I took it with that little pretend camera I have. As I was walking up to the entry door, with the contraband in my pocket I hear a guy saying “if you have a camera please take it back to your car. Now! You know, like real cops do.
{I saw Dylan here 5 years ago with Meryl Haggard as the ‘warm up act’. Meryl Haggard walks on to the stage and takes it. Holds it. Picks it up and turns it around, looks closely and gently sets it back down, turns and walks off. (Leaving you standing there like a man who’s dog just died)}
Anyway this guy is sayin’ “Photos are not allowed tonight.” (last time I had to put the Nikon back in my car, what a pain) But this time as I made my preparations. I thought of your story about the blogger and the nice camera. Seems like that guy was a hobbyist with a nice camera in an art museum (we were going into an art museum that day with me carrying my nice camera.) He gets into a pissing match with the ‘security’. They are giving him shit (maybe blow-out class) about being allow to take photographs in the museum. There are people all over using cell phones to make pictures. The cops seemed to have become involved and he (the photographer) has to leave, sans photographs. (the cell phones stayed to take pictures of the ejection.)
So it must be the difference between ‘photographs’ and ‘pictures’. I was cool. I had, in my pocket, a 10 meg, waterproof to 10 meters, point and shoot camera, used for snapshot pictures. Walked right in sat right down and enjoyed the show.
Had to chuckle out loud when I got an ok photo of Mr. Dylan.
I may have another one. I am fooling with them now.
P
I like all the black and the spots of light. Don’t know why?
[He wrote Me]
ALRIGHT! My man! Yes!
The fuckers just don't get it.
They do not get...ART.
They only think about dollars.
Love this story.
[I am now writing to you the reader]
This picture is for the post. I had to move to another seat.
The acoustics, like sucked, man! I mean like, Liked, so, really sucked.
Like it was, like, the worst hole in like the universe, man.
There were not more than 4000 people there. Bob Dylan is one of the best bargains in live concerts
See those specs of light that look like bleach spatter spots in the black?
Cell Phones, taking pics, and flicks, posting them on the net.!
Hey wait a minute, that's me?