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Is This Heaven?
by Mike Palecek
Really the only thing worth talking about today is the new book "Cost of Freedom."
Don't give me that crap about Hillary this or Obama that. What a couple of dolts.
The only candidates worth a hill of soybeans are Dennis Kucinich and Ron Paul.
I've been watching the baseball playoffs. Are you like me and you'd like to see that Frank TV guy turn to a different career - like suicide bomber maybe? Geezuz-God praise Allen the Alien I wish he would get cancer before that f*cking show of his even gets started. They did it with Jack Ruby, why not this guy?
Okay, enough with the conspiracy to whack the FrankTV guy, though I hope maybe I got the ball rolling.
"Cost of Freedom."
It's a coffee-table style book with lots of photos, stories of people in the peace movement around the country.
Great Christmas gift, all that sh*t.
All I can say is it's a guarantee, like that f*cking guy on the men's clothing commercial, I guarantee it.
Really. If you are near a bookstore or can get to a bookstore by kayak or canoe or large goat, tell that manager she will sell however many of these things she can lay her hands on.
If they don't believe you. Tell them to ask me. And I will tell them to believe you.
Really. No sh*t. All that.
Write to Howling Dog Press in the mountains of Colorado.
Email gets through.
Write to HDP publisher Michael Annis: writingdangerously@msn.com.
I'm serious. "Cost of Freedom" is the official book of the Colorado Rockies baseball team, by the way.
As serious as any old white guy in gym shorts and no socks, throwing down Ho-Ho's with both hands gets in Iowa on a Saturday morning.
Hey - seeya.
- Mike
______________________________________________
From "Cost of Freedom"
Other People's Kids
by Mary Walworth, Highland Park, New Jersey
What do you do with other people's kids?
Well, you feed them, of course.
You figure out what's in your fridge that resembles what they're used to at home.
You talk to them. You find out if they would like to make a picture with paints or magic markers. You make them feel safe and loved when they come up to you looking a little scared from wondering why mom hasn't picked them up yet, and you say she's almost there, she was just leaving from work.
You find out if they want white milk or chocolate milk, chicken nuggets or meatballs, a Powder Puff Girls cup or Barbie cup.
These are what you do for other people's kids.
One of the things you don't do to other people's kids is bomb them and burn them alive.
And blow the limbs off their little sisters and blind their little brothers. And send their mothers, stained with blood and stuck all over with little pieces of broken glass, running away from the flames, shrieking with grief.
You just really don't do that.
And you don't kill their daddies.
And you don't steal their countries or their assets. And as for how you act when a kid comes up to you and says he's thirsty, well, you find out if he likes ice cubes or just plain water, sippy cup or big boy cup or the Spiderman sports bottle, or would he rather have the last inch of apple juice from the bottle in the fridge.
You don't cut off their drinking water and make them desperate with thirst and sick with cholera.
And let me tell you ...
Yo Mamma Yuppie Email Interface Filter - Because We Know You've Got Better Things To Do With Your Life - We're Yo Mamma.
"For fast, dependable email interface filter service & sh*t, just call Yo Mamma."
____________________________________________
Is This Heaven?
by Mike Palecek
Really the only thing worth talking about today is the new book "Cost of Freedom."
Don't give me that crap about Hillary this or Obama that. What a couple of dolts.
The only candidates worth a hill of soybeans are Dennis Kucinich and Ron Paul.
I've been watching the baseball playoffs. Are you like me and you'd like to see that Frank TV guy turn to a different career - like suicide bomber maybe? Geezuz-God praise Allen the Alien I wish he would get cancer before that f*cking show of his even gets started. They did it with Jack Ruby, why not this guy?
Okay, enough with the conspiracy to whack the FrankTV guy, though I hope maybe I got the ball rolling.
"Cost of Freedom."
It's a coffee-table style book with lots of photos, stories of people in the peace movement around the country.
Great Christmas gift, all that sh*t.
All I can say is it's a guarantee, like that f*cking guy on the men's clothing commercial, I guarantee it.
Really. If you are near a bookstore or can get to a bookstore by kayak or canoe or large goat, tell that manager she will sell however many of these things she can lay her hands on.
If they don't believe you. Tell them to ask me. And I will tell them to believe you.
Really. No sh*t. All that.
Write to Howling Dog Press in the mountains of Colorado.
Email gets through.
Write to HDP publisher Michael Annis: writingdangerously@msn.com.
I'm serious. "Cost of Freedom" is the official book of the Colorado Rockies baseball team, by the way.
As serious as any old white guy in gym shorts and no socks, throwing down Ho-Ho's with both hands gets in Iowa on a Saturday morning.
Hey - seeya.
- Mike
______________________________________________
From "Cost of Freedom"
Other People's Kids
by Mary Walworth, Highland Park, New Jersey
What do you do with other people's kids?
Well, you feed them, of course.
You figure out what's in your fridge that resembles what they're used to at home.
You talk to them. You find out if they would like to make a picture with paints or magic markers. You make them feel safe and loved when they come up to you looking a little scared from wondering why mom hasn't picked them up yet, and you say she's almost there, she was just leaving from work.
You find out if they want white milk or chocolate milk, chicken nuggets or meatballs, a Powder Puff Girls cup or Barbie cup.
These are what you do for other people's kids.
One of the things you don't do to other people's kids is bomb them and burn them alive.
And blow the limbs off their little sisters and blind their little brothers. And send their mothers, stained with blood and stuck all over with little pieces of broken glass, running away from the flames, shrieking with grief.
You just really don't do that.
And you don't kill their daddies.
And you don't steal their countries or their assets. And as for how you act when a kid comes up to you and says he's thirsty, well, you find out if he likes ice cubes or just plain water, sippy cup or big boy cup or the Spiderman sports bottle, or would he rather have the last inch of apple juice from the bottle in the fridge.
You don't cut off their drinking water and make them desperate with thirst and sick with cholera.
And let me tell you ...
