My First Pigeons- #whipemthebirdblues Improv/Mad Zack Radio

Hello Dolly

 

Facts are that, when it comes to Capitalistic Ventures, preying on the emotional quotient of pet owners is easily manipulated with all kinds of junk that ends up in the landfills. 

With a huge portfolio as a musician and performer, Dolly Parton has the ability to influence, if not change, the world.

Every household name artist has a slew of greedy little bloodsuckers that place demands on a lot of these artists to, say, put thirteen songs on an album- for instance. Well, when you place demands like this on the artists, it completely changes the quality of what they produce. They start searching through accumulated files of other starving artists so that they can fulfill the demands of the label- they take the love out of the artists contributions. Songs like "I can make a drink," for instance, negatively impact society- The Garden of Life.

The people do not need more pet toys when an old worn out boot is just as satisfying to any old dog. Letting your pet lick off the dinner plate is a heavenly reward to a pet. They don't care to wear clothes- even though they can be conditioned. And, it is humorous to the pet owner and their friends BUT it does nothing beneficial for the people. All it does is make them make sacrifices in their budgets, which are already stressed out. 

What would be fantastic is, if Dolly (whom we all grew up on, and love to death) would go back to music- the only thing the masses will open their ears for. She has the power (super power even) to write a song to help influence and heal the masses, to get them interested in Naturalism and caring for the soil for instance.

Soon there will be starvation, shortages of all kinds- like alcohol and coffee, and coca, and poppy. And don't forget that everyone is a pot user now- pot will be harder to get or even grow.

To say that the Earth is in trouble is an understatement. It's time to pay the fiddler. And all of us carpenters will be back in business by building affordable coffins, and making cooler living environments in the basements of homes across the country. People with money to do so will be fleeing towards the poles. Antartica has secrets. The moon is being fought over. Mars is a pipedream. 

It wasn't profitable to tend to the waste and pollution of corporations. It is such an issue that they passed bills into laws making us all corporations- responsible for all of the problems.

Fuel will be regulated soon, allowing you so many gallons per month. Water will be scarce. Wild game will be hunted to near extinction due to rising prices. Cattle farmers are killing their livestock because they can't provide and the animals are suffering.

This is the beginning of the end, and I am making popcorn because I am a Naturalist- not a helpless city boy with a television and media induced mental condition. Everyone acts and sounds like an inmate today. It's en vogue to be a bum.

There will be panic and riots and much death. There most certainly will be a new trail of tears, and the Native Americans will have their revenge. 

Good Morning America- just wait until there is no coffee. I can't wait to see Starbucks fold.

Now it makes sense why people have assault weapons and guns of all kinds. The only ones scared are the helpless- the ones too obstinant to take DICTATION from their TEACHERS.

You better hope that there is No God because people will answer for their misdeeds and be dealt with accordingly. So, ignore the evidence of life after death with the very Monarch butterfly. Your days, as mine, are numbered. 

My divinity informed me, on the 15th of December, 2021, that I have six years left, and I can't wait to die.

Choke on that.

My Secret Garden- Mad Zack Radio

My Impression of Andy Rooney

Escaping The Despondent Sea is available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

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The Missing Socks

This is just in case. It began as a potential vacation response for an email acct.

    "So, did I tell you...?"  I rescued a dog, having been confined to a pen, and receiving too little interaction. 5 weeks of approaching him, talking to him, and interacting with the other dog. Three weeks after being able to enter the cage, he warms up to the point where I can actually take him in the house.   Getting a steak out of the fridge, I set up the ol' George Foreman grill. Well seasoned and slathered, I tossed it onto the sizzling surface, closing the top down for one more long hiss.

After charring it up, cooking the fat to that melt-in-your mouth point- Kibbling the dog with it for the rest of the day.

So, Now, we are great buddies. He walks on the leash like he has done it forever. Socks knows what I say, when I say it.    Outside of being a Great Dane Pitbull, needing to run, he's great, but you can't call him in after the adrenalin's flowing. 

Having him out of the pen- working with him in the house, I put him out on a heavy cable, which has spring loaded safety.  The plan- leave him out for half hour or so, then continue.      While inside, the dogs horse around- 2 stay. Then the clips fails, and off they run. Oh, dogs love the chasing game. 

That was that, they're off.

I booted and suited, dashing out the door with a line.

The smallest is the antagonist, a male Shitzu, and then a 1 year old male Mastiff Pitbull- 

That Also loves to run, but he doesn't leave the house or property...unless this scenario happens.                          #MurphysLaw

Neighbors called the cops. They come, but only disturb things, when I had just about had control. Well cops are cops. They gotta jump right in and take control.

It looked like I'd not get him- he'd get shot. The cop tries tazering him, of course the dog's gonna snarl at him now...  It was a fail. Socks is too quick. And why a tazer to a dog? That just insured the dogs demeanor for later on!

After I asked them to just back up a bit, Finally, they did.   Socks ended up following me home, and into the garage, where I shut the door behind him-  now walking him to the pen.

 

We all have a chat, they hand me a fine, and all's good....

until they call the next day, claiming him with a dangerous dog warrant-  only to euthanize him. UNLESS, we surrender our 2 year old Socks to the Humane Society.

They threatened the homeowner. They only issued Me, $148 in fines the day before- and it's not even my dog! It belongs to the homeowners daughter. And, she, is the one who asked me to work with him, after she witnessed him cooperating with me. She just kept him a prisoner. There was no choice for me, but to make up for lost time.

For weeks, I publicized for a home for him. Now it costs me another $60 to take him in, where I explain the details of him, the care he has been getting- his training. All while explaining why I understand him, and has been helping me cope with medical issues, practically bawling almost an hour. They assured me that I could visit. Preparing to let several days pass before returning.

A week later, returning with special meat treats wrapped in foil, we returned to the shelter- having a little distance to help digest it all.     Once inside, I announced that I was there to see the boy. 

An office girl dashes in to get the woman running it- for what I don't know. She's not what I came to see. Well, for over 40 minutes she prevented me from seeing the dog. She only bickered with me beyond pressure capacity of my bitchometer. She knew I was upset, having come so close to closing time, to spend a few minutes with Socks.    I threw my head back and said, "I'm rrrrready to start shootin'."  At this point I had been lied to, and possibly double crossed. And she knew I was a writer, reiterating shooting off powerful letters to those with ears.         My suspicion, that the cops put the dog down, when the Human Society Shelter 's entire staff reassured me that they find homes for all dogs. Discovering that it costs $250 to get Socks to a home with someone I had already been talking to- that was an unfair price. So 148 +68 +250= $466.00 incurred seems correct.  Oh, it gets better.

Sickened with wasting my time with people whom only want to fight, we leave very disappointed.

3 hours later, 2 thugs come to the house to badger me with psychological warfare, and intimidation.

13 minutes later, they arrest me. They have no cause, going on hear-say that I was going to come and shoot everyone! Only they didn't come out and ask me if I had stated anything like it, they merely tried to provoke myself to the point of aggravation. The entire conversation was recorded...

by my security system. (loooonnnggg slow breathhhhhh) I plan to use some soundbites in upcoming ideas. So, anyway...

After spending the night in their little prison, I am released on my own recognizance by noon. Further denied contact with the dog, shelter or, employees. No word on Socks being seen there.
Hearing date coming soon.

Hopefully you enjoyed that little drama show...

Peace, Love, Care- Prospect Studio

Wieners!

Boy, do I love wieners! There is nothing in the whole wide world that I would rather eat than wieners! It should just rain wieners from the sky.

I want to study hard- both day and night, eating all of the wieners that I can get, in and out of school, so that when I grow up I could become a great Genetic Physicist.

 I would be the very first human being to manipulate the genes of chickens, cows, pigs, and corn in order to design a whole plethora of wiener plants so that we could grow wieners, even on the moon. 

Although we would probably need more surface area to grow on in order to supply wieners to meet our gluttonous anal demands on our very own planet Earth.          

Why with all of the stores, stadiums and gas stations in the world, just imagine all of the jobs that could be created to plant, grow, harvest sort, ship, manufacture, package, distribute, cook, and sell wieners. And that’s not to mention the jobs created from picking up, hauling off, and processing the waste and refuse from the consumers of wieners.

We would, most likely, need to create a whole other moon for agricultural use- a lot like making more land in Florida by hauling sand and rock out beyond the beach to sell to trust-fund babies who pretend to be builders and try to conceal their love for wieners, while building condominiums, for people to buy who do not know any better, but love a good wiener also.

Only we would use the garbage accumulated from the lunches of the various trades, and the trash we import from all of the restaurants and people of Canada, that also love to, sell, cook, and eat wieners, bond it all together with used aluminum foil from ovens, grills, and packaging, so that the man made terra firma would have plenty of different spices and herbal qualities to create many different flavors of wieners.

We could even have different kinds of wieners depending on what part of Regurgiterra that they were grown and harvested from. I mean, hey, we have got plenty of Mustard weed already. Why not? Right? I mean, they get two dollars for a wiener.

Zachery S. Polk/Prospect Studio

231-487-8889

bandanabro@yahoo.com

http://reverbnation.com/thebandanabrothers

http://facebook.com/theknewbluessociety.peoplewhoknow

"If The Trees Could Talk"

If the trees could talk-
they'd talk to you.
If the trees could talk-
they'd talk to me too.
If the trees could talk
it'd be all they'd do- it'd seem
If the trees could talk
they wouldn't talk- they'd scream

If the trees could talk,
we'd all be out on a limb.
If the trees could talk
our chance to talk would be slim,
If the trees could talk
their bark wouldn't be what's to fear
It'd be the words that they'd say
and the things that we'd have to hear.