Tag Archives: BLOGS

Terror on the Caregiver – New Orleans – “E La Ba” To NOLA – The Two-Faced Woman!

https://wp.me/p9Vqgs-zA

This blog post is a must share. Had me jumping wow.

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greaт 📖 read

https://likesinternetmarketing.wordpress.com/2018/12/05/copywriting-when-it-comes-to-writing-sales-copy-bullet-points/

Oh, my! We at mydaz.blog were just notified for MYSTERY BLOGGER AWARD 2018! A NOMINATION IS PRICELESS🌞😁💥🌝💥

https://mydaz.blog/2018/06/20/oh-my-we-at-mydaz-blog-were-just-notified-for-mystery-blogger-award-2018-a-nomination-is-priceless%f0%9f%8c%9e%f0%9f%98%81%f0%9f%92%a5%f0%9f%8c%9d%f0%9f%92%a5/

10 THINGS THAT INSPIRE PATRICK TO WRITE

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Ouch!

“GETTING AHEAD!’ 02/02/2018 Freya’s Day!

There’s a lot of people

In this life,

Lookin’-For-a-(perfect)-husband (pause)

Or A WIFE,

But, I tell you,

Without-a-doubt,

You can {whisper} (pause)

OR YOU CAN SHOUT!

BUT

IF you wanna-get

A head in life,

Just get yourself

A little knife:

It can be plastic,

Or stainless-steel,

A machete!

Or

A “switch blade deal!”

But, it-can-be-bloody and squirt in your eye,

Unless-you’re-wearin’-goggles,

But you might cry!

Because

The moment you got your head,

The person, chopped, might be dead!

And, then, I bet you’ll miss their smile,

Their little ways, their laugh

AND GUILE!

HOWEVER,

If-they-do-not-die-right-there,

You’ll know they’re a zombie –

Or a mutant fair!

And they might chase ya

From here to there!

So, if you wanna head, just beware!

Who knows what’ll happen –

MIGHT NOT BE PRETTY!

Maybe getting a head –

Is an over-rated siddhi!

fin. ❤

We HAVE Found The Lord!”

“SEARCHING FOR JESUS” Freya’s Day, January 26, 2018 a.k.a.: “We HAVE Found The Lord!”

Arguably, some of the earliest “gospel,” Biblical material, was rejected by various members of The Council of Nicaea,* because it did not fit their political agendas and/or personal moral standards. A number of the earliest, rejected writings were found in EGYPT, circa 1900. These ancient texts were almost entirely written in Greek and presented a very “exalted” description of Jesus, even “elevating” him above The Emperors, who were considered gods themselves! As an example, in The Gospel of Thomas, Jesus is quoted as saying: “… . I am … all; … all came forth from me and attained to me … . Raise up a stone, and you will find me there … . [i]t is I, who am the entirety … . “ Clearly, Jesus is identifying with ALL things corporeal. This tended to discount some of the teachings of various so-called “Church Fathers,” who taught that “the flesh,” any corporeal matter, was tainted and unholy; by identifying with such “matter,” Jesus was then, in their views, making Himself less than “holy,” which was intolerable to their beliefs! Thus, The Gospel of Thomas was considered heretical and not worthy of inclusion along with other gospels, which tended to support the theory of “corruptible flesh!”

Consider this poem, written with a reverence for ALL things, both “fleshly” AND “spiritual,” which Jesus Christ, by His teachings, sanctified as acceptance and “of God:”

I looked for Jesus, high and low, scanned The Sun – and froze in snow!

I went to temples, churches too – joined a cult, a cult or two!

Nowhere-did-I-find-Him, so I did ask: (pause) Why?

And with that, I began to cry –

And, along-the-way, a maid came by!

And asked me: “Why so sad?!” YES,

WHY?!

“I can’t find Jesus,” I did reply.

She had such love, In her eye:

“Come with me,” said she, with-(a)-smile –

And, so, we walked,

A little while!

She laid me down;

We drank from kegs,

And I found Jesus –

Be-tween her legs!

fin. ❤

  • : The first assembly of Christendom, held in 325 A. D., by The Roman Emperor Constantine, to determine which of the Christian texts would be acceptable “to the state,” for purposes of establishing moral codes to guide public conduct!

AUSCHWITZ’S GATES

“THE ONE WHO WAITS!” a.k.a.: “ So Happy! To See You!” Fry Day 01/26/2018.

Our tired Allied soldiers, were there, at Auschwitz’s Gates,

When we spied this one lone prisoner, the one who always waits,

‘Midst blood, (and) discolored urine (pause) And vile-decomposition,

6 million war-torn bodies, In varied trans-si-i-tion!

Yet, just this one prisoner,

We saw that fateful morn,

So thin And so frail,

But-he-was-not-forlorn!

One shake-y prisoner, ‘Cause the place, it was so cold,

He stood with quite the smile! We thought that he was bold!

And, as we approached, his voice we all heard:

“You’re here! Yippee-doo-dah!” he said, just like a bird.

He smiled,

And brightest sunshine

Came out from his eyes,

And he was simply waiting, amidst all of these lies!

Of sad, human suffering – and cruelty so true,

But, he was NOT suffering;

And he wasn’t blue,

He was just waiting –

Accepting this day,

And a few of our soldiers – got down to pray:

To one frail, Jewish boy, whose love caught our souls:

And blessed all German soldiers –

And us-guys, out on patrol!.

fin. ❤

Check it out

Cute puppies ♥️

Check this out: ‘2014 National Geographic Traveler Photo Contest, Part II’

Check this out: ‘2014 National Geographic Traveler Photo Contest, Part II’ – http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1kzlwA/:1zT-UTHW:tBhBv1by

“Chicago”

“Chicago” @writingsolo https://psiloveyou.xyz/chicago-61540fb489f

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Sexual harassment

I know that it sounds dramatic to use the word attack. It’s hard to take male masturbation seriously, because it’s such a fundamental part of comedy. Some of the earliest comedians were actors dressed as satyrs in Ancient Greece — men on stage wearing oversized erect penis costumes running around, annoying the gods, and getting into trouble. The joke still holds up. Oversized boner costumes are hilarious. I would probably watch a show called The Satyrs Take Manhattan about a bunch of guys running around the city, knocking into walls with, like, baguette-sized erections. It wouldn’t win any awards, but, sure, I’d watch a couple episodes on a Sunday. I remember screaming with laughter at Jason Biggs putting his dick into an apple pie and the subsequent conversation he’s forced to have with Eugene Levy. Or the “Master of My Domain” episode of Seinfeld, or the hair gel in There’s Something About Mary, or Steve Carrell preparing to masturbate in 40-Year-Old Virgin by lighting candles and listening to Lionel Richie.
But none of these scenes have made me laugh as hard as I laughed watching Louis C.K. perform live at the Improv a couple years ago. It was almost spiritual, a kind of catharsis — I was crying from laughter, but I think, honestly, I was just crying. I felt understood. A great comedian gives you relief, for a moment, from the burden of your subconscious. We feel like we’ve let them inside. So when a satyr, who has brought such a deep joy to so many people by talking about boners and masturbation, is suddenly accused of using those exact things as weapons to cause pain, it confuses and breaks the heart. I understand the need to find a way that it can all be funny again. I don’t want the story of Louis C.K. to be a tragedy. I wish I could just laugh.
But I’m also tired of trying to explain — and seeing so many other women over the past year try to explain — why none of this is sex. Why it hurts the way violence hurts. Why the fear sticks with you and shapes you and changes you. Why it’s possible to wait for 40 years before you’re ready to talk about the memory of terror.
I’m tired of the rage. A 32-year-old assistant district attorney didn’t “date” a 14-year-old he picked up outside her own custody hearing, as Sean Hannity phrased it in an interview with Roy Moore last week. That’s not what dating is. Taking your clothes off in front of that 14-year-old girl and forcing her to touch you is not sex. But why do we continue to have to explain this? Why do men who have never experienced this form of attack get to define what an attack is? Watching the men on television argue back and forth about what Roy Moore did or didn’t do is like watching color-blind people trying to explain what the color red looks like. You don’t know what it looks like. You’ve never seen it, and I have, so what gives you the right to tell me what it is? As my grandmother used to say to my mom, “Get up and go out there, but know that it’s a man’s world.” Sex is a purple cloud. Red is red. As angry as it makes me and as exhausting as it is, we have to keep fighting to make the blind men see.

Moon

Before my bed a pool of light—
Can it be hoarfrost on the ground?
Looking up, I find the moon bright;
Bowing, in homesickness I’m drowned.

Prayer

“When God Made Me” Neil Young
Was he thinkin’ about my country
Or the color of my skin?
Was he thinkin’ ’bout my religion
And the way I worshipped him?
Did he create just me in his image
Or every living thing?

When God made me
When God made me

Was he planning only for believers
Or for those who just have faith?
Did he envision all the wars
That were fought in his name?
Did he say there was only one way
To be close to him?

When God made me
When God made me

Did he give me the gift of love
To say who I could choose?

When God made me
When God made me

When God made me
When God made me

Did he give me the gift of voice
So some could silence me?
Did he give me the gift of vision
Not knowing what I might see?
Did he give me the gift of compassion
To help my fellow man?

When God made me
When God made me

When God made me
When God made me