Image: Pixabay
Farewell, my lovelies,
Death is inevitable,
Just drink the Kool-Aid.
Jonestown, Guyana
Misplaced trust turned tragedy
Jim Jones’ legacy.
Lies cultivated,
Zealous believers’ blind faith
No hope comes from fear.
Despair guaranteed,
Dysfunctional family,
Disguised as normal.
Rooted in evil
ISIS is an example,
Beware the devil.
Image: Pixabay
“I’m not here to bust your balls. I’m here so we don’t get our balls busted,” the new CEO assured his employees.
Six months later, he saved the shareholders $6 million by letting go 3,000 workers.
Outside the building, sitting on a park bench were two former employees, Sam and Hank. Sam snorted, “Our CEO sure had us by the balls.”
Hank responded, “Yep, he had the balls to make us believe that if we juggled our schedule to fit his deadlines, we’d be having a ball in no time.”
“Turns out he thinks we dropped the ball.” Sam rubbed his eyes so his friend wouldn’t see them misting.
“Got that right. It’s one new ball game these days.”
Sighing, they both stood up and left, scratching their balls.
Image: Pixabay
She inhales, deeply. Then coughs. A lot. Her eyes almost pop out. Slowly, she feels the effects. She inhales again, knowing another bout of coughing is inevitable. But the sweet pain shooting through her lungs is worth it for she’s sensing herself relaxing. She relishes the moment; she doesn’t have much time left. Her insides start to rebel, while from the outside her body becomes more still. What a sensation. So, this is death by smog.
Image by blogetta
We four kings of steel
Provide hydration to all,
Men, women, kids, pets.
Choose your favored spout
To squirt clear, filtered water,
Redundancy rules.
Flush with wealth
This land of milk and honey
Has much to offer.
Image: Joyful Graphics
Get ready for change
Three days before the New Year
Do you have your beer?
[Note: I know we’ve got no singing talent,
But our desire to extend Christmas merriment
Overrides any shame and embarrassment.
Thanks to Cabana Boy’s help with music and lyrics,
This quasi-rap song is performed by yours truly
And some rapper wannabees.
Our amateur audio performance moniker:
Two Foxy Chicks and a Hot Cougar]
Christmas Gotta Go On
Say what, whut
But . . . but . . .
Christmas can’t be over!
I’m not done wearing my ugly sweater
Christmas, man, is so much better
No, no, it’s gotta go on,
Lay off that tree, you moron!
Christmas ain’t done just yet,
I’se still waitin’ for my choo choo set.
Yo, Santa, you dissin’ me here,
Where be my Christmas cheer?
I been drinkin’ my nog and Jack,
Yo, Santa, you dissin’ my shack.
Say what, whut
I hear da ringin’
Santa, Santa, what you bringin’?
Don’t you worry, I’se ready to snooze,
I’ll leave out cookies, apple pie, and booze.
Caroling outside,
Cheers of joy heard from inside,
Sounds of Christmas Day.
Merry Christmas!
Image: Pixabay
I see you’ve gotten to the last written page, Mr. Lang. If you go to the back of the journal, I inserted the ripped part of the page there.
“Dec. 24: . . . home for Christmas. I p . ; l ls n I a e l p . . . “
It is difficult to make out the rest of his scribbles. I see you can’t decipher them either, Mr. Lang. That’s all I have for you, sir. So, if there’s anything else . . . Please let me walk you out. You know we have a beautiful place here; we don’t really see too many people come out this way. Thanks for visiting. Okay, good-bye . . .
Mr. Lang looks like he’s headed out in the same direction as our Mr. McCue. Perhaps he too will find his place in our valley. I’ve been here many years now since I’ve been given the post of Overseer. I take good care of my residents. I feed them well. In time, they will be ready to spread out and take over more of this world.
Image: Pixabay
“Dec. 23: I’m freaking out. Nothing appears normal here. I’ve lost track of time. The sky always looks dim and heavy. How can that be? What’s become of day and night? It doesn’t get bright or pitch black. It’s as if there’s a dirty film over the place. My legs feel like they walked many miles, but I keep seeing my car directly ahead. Is the car following me? I can’t figure things out. I’m tired, but I can’t fall asleep. I haven’t slept since I woke up hours ago, but it must have been a whole day because I can feel my chin’s five o’clock shadow.
And what’s with these trees? Some are twisty or bent to the ground, while others are completely straight. They don’t feel right either. There’s some kind of slime coming out of the squat looking ones. I’m also starting to hear something like a cross between murmurs and light rustling. For some reason, my nose is also picking up smells that kind of makes me want to throw up. My mind seems to be playing tricks. I’m writing what I can so I can read it later to see if I’m making any sense, although my eyes aren’t helping. They seem to getting progressively bad. Am I becoming myopic? I’m thirsty and hungry but my body can’t seem to stop from walking around. I’ve actually tied my legs to a tree stump so I will stop walking. I can barely write.
I just want to be . . . “
To be continued
Image: Pixabay
“Dec. 22: I’m so mad. I can’t believe I slept through the night. I lost so much good driving time! What the hell? I set my smartphone’s alarm, but it didn’t go off. Soon after I woke up, I started driving, but I can’t seem to find my bearing. There’s no reception; my radio just spews out static. My smartphone’s good for shite. And my once-trusty compass keeps spinning around in circles as its hand goes round and round. So it’s no good here either. Weird.
I got out of the car to see if I can find anyone. Strange how silent it is out here. No wildlife sounds of any kind, or even the distant drone of a jet airplane. All I see is long stretches of dirt road with odd-looking trees. Never seen the likes of them. I tried to take a picture with my smartphone, but it’s a dud. I’m going to hike around to look for some kind of a bird’s eye view.”
Karina Pinella 
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