Anal Prolapse Blender

Which one looks like a churro,
sticking out an old man's nose?
A or B?

After awhile when one eats the same thing day in and day out, one almost feels like they could eat a blended rectal prolapse. Shaken not stirred. 

I happen to like routine, and also I have found that exploring comfort food is one way to curb the above problem. It is depressing when food loses its luster, and therefore indirectly food loses its "life." That's when the quality of daily life loses a part of itself. When food loses it's life, it often tastes like poppy-seeds in hard shit, or at least I've been told. The things people do to pay for grad school.

People should enjoy food, or rather the company of food and what food offers, such as guests who will talk about things that are repugnant. Eating shouldn't feel similar to a chore - unless you're sick. It should feel like breathing: you like doing it (most of the time). The downside is that whether it's company or just the monotony of the same thing everyday, one starts to question whether he or she could eat food that resembles human entrails.

Mmm bacon!
Well, not bacon yet.

I'm not in any kind of hurry to eat food that tastes like a mouth full of pig cunt - no matter how much I like Kermit the Frog, I ain't doing his nasty piggy bitch girlfriend. Gorilla juice fruit-cake, no thanks. The breaking point away from the monotony, banality, and one-dimensional nature of my cooking (or lack thereof) has inspired me.

I have resolved "pig cunt" by trying three new dishes every 3 days. It seems to be working. Actually it's breaking my bank, because I don't have enough cabinets for all these dishes.

Sick bastard: "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence"

Reminiscing about life is something I like doing. The most unfortunate thing about reminiscing is when you physically have an opportunity to touch and feel the things you're reminiscing about: letters, songs, stuff, and so on.

For me I felt disgusted. Flanked, outnumbered, and overtaken. I read things which on the surface would feel old to Cro-Magnon man if he were still roaming free. It was like a time-machine. I was taken back so quickly, that for a moment the feelings were foreign until I realized they were my own. 

At least they were at some point in my life. 

Like a war vet who embodied "War is hell." I'd rather not talk about the war anymore. 

But it ate at me. It did.

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.

I can't go to a place that doesn't exist.
Or do those places go to people that don't exist?
I'm not a better or worse person.
Maybe I am?
Maybe I am.

I suppose I should be happy about it, considering I learned something from the situations over the last 10 years. I did not expect to be where I was, when I was there.

I learned how to be good, bad, a dream protector - and killer, - and I learned.
It was expensive. Sometimes too expensive.
Now years later, I wonder if it all should burn away.
If the price tag of remembering something requires such a high upkeep,
shouldn't it be destroyed, lest it destroy the keepers?

I don't know, but I let everyone down.
A let down, but not the first.

And you let me down.

Was it yours?

I wonder if had we been at the top of our game--
No. Not at all. Otherwise, this would have been much messier, interesting, or uneventful.

Back in the cockpit, I wonder.
I wonder. And wonder.
I go up.
I come back.
I talk with ground crew.
We make some modifications.
And we go right back out into the sky.
Nothings changed, or rather, not much has changed.
Little damage here, little damage there.
The vehicles change, but only when
the pilots are replaced
do we really notice a difference.

How in the world can we ever smile again?

Ground crew can't fix the pilot.
I stopped carrying a parachute since those days.
I'm sorry Mister Lawrence, I don't believe in Christmas.

I don't believe in miracles I don't believe in forgiving I don't believe in I can go on I won't remember why

Somehow, I still have a smile on my face.
Up Up and Away!

Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon
Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon
We could float among the stars together, you and I
For we can fly we can fly
Up, up and away
My beautiful, my beautiful balloon
The world's a nicer place in my beautiful balloon
It wears a nicer face in my beautiful balloon
We can sing a song and sail along the silver sky
For we can fly we can fly
Up, up and away
My beautiful, my beautiful balloon
Suspended under a twilight canopy
We'll search the clouds for a star to guide us
If by some chance you find yourself loving me
We'll find a cloud to hide us
We'll keep the moon beside us
Love is waiting there in my beautiful balloon
Way up in the air in my beautiful balloon
If you'll hold my hand we'll chase your dream across the sky
For we can fly we can fly
Up, up and away
My beautiful, my beautiful balloon
Balloon...
Up, up, and away.....

Whiskey Oh?: A short story by the writer

When someone said, "Bomb" Gary almost didn't notice. He had been minding his own business, as he usually does with headphones crammed into his ears, while peering down at his phone. The shanties and songs from Gilbert and Sullivan were more of an interest to him. He'd been reading up on them because he wanted something to sing while he was alone. Looking up from his seat he noticed people looking at him, others, and towards the driver. For a moment he realized something was wrong. His heart rate went up and he wanted to panic with the rest of the lot.

But he didn't, at least not outwardly. He turned off his music, unplugged his headphones, and shoved them in his pocket along with his phone. He tipped his head into the aisle to see what was going on. His fingers were pulsing with the adrenaline. No one seemed to notice his excitement, since they where already hopped up on their own.

He stopped thinking about those shanties he was reading. No amount of:
"Whiskey is the life of man, 
Always was since the world began!"
Would calm his nerves. Although a little voice in his head suggested that while the words might not calm him, actual whiskey might. He smiled nervously, even though no one else seemed to be smiling. And thankfully to his surprised, no one really noticed.

A distinct, but fuzzy sounding voice was heard overhead. It was the driver speaking into the intercom, but it was unintelligible gibberish. A woman behind Gary wouldn't stop babbling about what needed to be done. Soon the bus rolled to a stop, and people shuffled off the bus.

Gary shrugged, smiled, and walked over to another bus stop. The police would later report a pressure-cooker bomb was found. It exploded when a bomb technician tried to defuse it. He lived, surprisingly.

As Gary stood there waiting for another bus he could hear the lyrics in his head.
"Some like whiskey, some like beer,
I wish I had a barrel here."

He pulled out his headphones and phone, turn his music back on, and tried to forget the day's events
He knew others might not forget, but he would do is best to block it out of his mind at the least. That night he drank. But this night he celebrated life through death. And not the other way around, though he was fond of it. But not that night. Not at all.

Religion or rather the practice of rituals, think boozing and floozies

I once was asked, 

"There is a room with four equal corners, one corner with Superman, another with Wonder Woman, the third with a Pollack, and the forth with a black, all staring at the center of the room where there is a pot of gold.

Who reaches the gold first? 

Well, not Wonder Woman or Superman, they're not real. 

It's the Pollack, because black knows better."

Like religion, one should always
teach their children about
drinking.

Religion organized or unorganized. Irregular or regular. Or unleaded. Is usually the result of wanting to find some meaning in existing. For some people it means we need to be more than just biological horn-dogs with penis-envy, which is what most religions try to mention. Except for the FSM religion. 

We're not animals, because animals are just that. We have morals, ideas, and a lot of internet porn. The latter of which animals do not have in their current possession. I believe we can go beyond the biology and not always look to be the alpha or beta, or even use terms like that. When our characters dictate who we are first, then only then do we no longer need to worry about much else. Hopefully our biology doesn't dictate who or what our character is, unless you are a war-machine: living tissue over endo-metal skeleton.

Frankly speaking, as I brought up in an earlier post.

http://repugnant-thoughts.blogspot.com/2013/09/in-other-news.html

Which basically talks about how people who believe in something they can't see or touch are at slightly higher risk of major depression disorder (ICD-9 296.3).

However those kraut-bastards, seem to think something else.

Does prayer help us resist temptation?
Talking to God boosts self-control and emotional stability, claims study

You can read it all here:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2515637/Does-prayer-help-resist-temptation-Talking-God-boosts-self-control-emotional-stability-claims-study.html

Or here, if you are lazy:

Blah blah blah does mastur--- Prayer help us, treat depression or temptation?

Prayer the pee-pee monster away.

By Robin Yapp
PUBLISHED: 15:56 GMT, 29 November 2013 | UPDATED: 15:58 GMT, 29 November 2013

Praying helps people stay in control of their emotions and behaviour, according to a new study. 

People turn to prayer 'as a coping response to the high demands in life' and are rewarded with increased strength and ability to resist temptation, researchers said. 

Previous findings have shown that when people try hard to control their emotions and thoughts, the risk of aggressive outbursts and binge drinking or eating rises. 

BELIEVING IN GOD COULD HELP TREAT DEPRESSION TOO...

Belief in God may improve treatment for those suffering with depression, a study published earlier year found.  

Faith in a higher being was found to significantly improve treatment for people suffering with a psychiatric illness, according to research carried out by McLean Hospital in Belmont, Massachusetts. 

Researchers followed 159 patients over the course of a year at the Behavioral Health Partial Hospital program to investigate the relationship between a patient's level of belief in God, expectations for treatment and actual treatment outcomes. 

Each participant was asked to gauge their belief in God as well as their expectations for treatment outcome on a five-point scale. 

Researchers found that patients with 'no' or only 'slight' belief in God were twice as likely not to respond to treatment than patients with higher levels of belief. 

And more than 30 per cent of patients claiming no specific religious affiliation still saw the same benefits in treatment if their belief in God was rated as moderately or very high. 

But the latest study, by German psychologists at Saarland University and the University of Mannheim, found that praying helps people maintain self-control.  

'A brief period of personal prayer buffered the self-control depletion effect', wrote the team, whose findings are published in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology online. 

'These results are consistent with and contribute to a growing body of work attesting to the beneficial effects of praying on self-control.'  

Praying has already been linked in the past to reduced levels of infidelity and alcohol consumption [emphasis mine].

The German authors recruited 79 people, of whom 41 were Christian, 14 atheists, 10 agnostic and 14 belonged to other religions. 

Participants were each left alone for five minutes and asked to either pray or think freely about one thing as intensely as possible. 

Next they all watched a funny film clips with half told to react normally and half required to try to suppress their emotions and control their facial reactions.

Finally, they took part in Stroop tests, where words describing colours appear in different coloured inks, such as the word blue written in red ink. 

Participants must respond to the ink colour, not the written word, which requires self-control as our instinct is to read the word in front of us. 

Those who thought freely in the first part of the test and then tried to suppress their emotions during the film clips were found to struggle with the Stroop task. 

But this was not the case for participants who prayed at the start of the study - showing they still had high levels of self-control at the end.

The authors also found those who first prayed had tried just as hard to suppress emotions during the film clips 'but did not become depleted'.

*****

The real question anyone should ask his or herself, is whether or not alcohol consumption is a problem.

As far as I'm concerned, alcohol is prayer.

Sweet, tasty, prayer.

You may want to talk to your doctor before starting a new religious or drinking regimen. If you experience:

• heart problems such as chest pain (angina), heart failure, irregular heartbeats, or have had a heart attack
• high or low blood pressure or have high blood pressure that is not controlled
• stroke
• liver or kidney problems or require dialysis
• retinitis pigmentosa, a rare genetic (runs in families) eye disease
• severe vision loss, including a condition called NAION
• stomach ulcers or a bleeding problem
• a deformed penis shape or Peyronie's disease
• an erection that lasted more than---

How to pray on the weekend

That's for a different regimen.

In any case, it seems the Germans have found a way to academically one up , albeit not a global effort like the other study, their peers and colleagues. Basically the Germans have found a way to use hope as the deferment of disappointment.

Right now would be a good time to listen to Epica's A New Age Dawns - Pt. V (Kingdom of Heaven)