Friday, September 15, 2017

They Walk Among Us

As many of you know, I am an old school conspiracy theorist, part of the original batch that came of age in the late 60's. My natural paranoia seems to feed the whole thing and so my psychosis feeds my neurosis.

I guess it's just a gift.

So with that in mind, I would like to offer you my latest theory about aliens which I am sure will captivate and innervate all of you to the point of belief.

For years, there have been jokes about people who shop at Walmart. I'm sure you've seen the viral emails. Pictures of weird looking folks in all manor of garb, with missing teeth, varicose veins and magenta colored hair. The really bizarre part of this is that's it's not just a joke. As we all know, there are people like that at Walmart all the time. I would like to think it's just trailer trash and working class white folks, but it seems like they are always in there, always shopping, always milling about the store and sometimes in the same clothes from one day to the next. So, I got to thinking about it.

I believe that Walmart stores are portals and perhaps even hatcheries for aliens from other worlds or dimensions. They incubate in the bowels of the stores, hatch, and are then assigned a shopping cart to mill about the store until they fully pupate and then they are released from the "hive" where a car awaits them and they go to work in the community. Those that do not reach full maturity after hatching are made into employees and allowed to stay in the store to help them assimalate for release at a later date. It all starts when the aliens deposit their eggs at Walmart distribution centers. From there, they are packaged and trucked to the store hives in all parts of the nation. They are cultivated in massive underground caverns that lie beneath every Walmart store until they hatch.

So the next time you are at Walmart and you see a short, fat woman wrapped heavily in yellow spandex with navy blue hair, a see-thru blouse and a buttocks wider than her cart, you will know you've seen an alien, probably fresh out of the hive. Sometimes they will have smaller aliens with them that appear to be out of control, dirty and noisy. These smaller ones are what is called prehatches. They left the hive too early and get assigned to the larger more mature variety. I know you're thinking these are just unruly children. Don't be tricked.

I know too, that you thought Walmart was just a thrift store started by Sam Walton years ago with hard work and tenacity. The truth is that Sam Walton and his family have been the beneficiaries of an agreement between the alien worlds and the US government to replace the population of our planet with these Walmartians. It's only a matter of time before all of us real humans will be gone. It's also why North Korea has worked so hard to keep Walmart out of the hermit kingdom.

It's really too late to do anything about this. FEMA is just waiting for the next national crisis. In an emergency, they will send us all to Walmart under the notion that we will all receive supplies and instructions. Instead, we will be encapsulated in hibernation chambers, trucked to Walmart distribution centers and transferred by aliens to their home planets to be used as a food supply.

One might ask why our government would do this. I can only say that they wanted a more compliant work force that they could tax more heavily without objection. This has also been the dream of the class of elite humans that will be left after the process is complete - you know - those folks that would never shop at Walmart!

When it happens, just remember, you heard it here first. September 23rd is coming up. That might be the day.   Do Not go to Walmart that day. Just a thought.

So, do you think I'm onto something? Ya, you know I'm right.

Nothing Measures Up

Have you enjoyed times in your life where you thought everything was perfect?

I have had a couple of times like that in my nearly 60 years of life. The earliest one goes back to when I was between 3 and 4 years old. We lived in Bondurant in a small rented house. Kelly Dean Jones lived across the street and he was my best friend. We spent hours together getting into trouble, fighting and playing in his sand pile that his cat thought was a litter box.

My parents were young. Dad worked at a Dairy. And Mom stayed home to take care of me. We would go places together. Mom would take me shopping for goldfish. I was fascinated even then by fish. At night Dad would come home. We would go for rides in the car and I would fall asleep, miraculously waking up in my bed the next morning. We went to Dairy Queen, the A&W drive in and Millie's. We went to church on Sundays and Grandpa and Grandma's on weekends. I had a beagle named Buppy...(don't ask) and my world was good....perfect. I had everything a kid could want in 1960 and we were not rich, not by a long shot.

And then something happened. I can't say what it was (won't), but our relationships changed. We moved to Des Moines, I went to school, Mom went to work part time and Dad seemed to stay at work as much as possible. Everything seemed like it was ruined. Dad did not like me anymore, Mom was too tired to do stuff, and Kelly Dean was far away in Bondurant. On weekends, I got farmed out to Grandpa and Grandma. That was not bad. It really was a farm and a farm is an education for a city kid and I had a good time. Only child types tend to create worlds in their heads and that's what I did. I talked to myself a lot.

You do that when you spend most of your life alone. And now at 60, I'm doing it again. Everyone of them has left me. I should have expected it. They were always doing that. They always came back before though.  

All those people are dead now. They weren't perfect, but I loved them. Now I truly am an orphan. My imagination does not work nearly as well as it once did, so imaginary friends are hard to come by. I guess I never thought there would be a time when I could not talk to them. And that's odd, because I have seen death take many people that I have been close to. Nothing is forever I guess except God. Not even perfect moments. I'm glad I had some. Heaven is supposed to be like that. We will see if that's true soon enough. Will there be anymore perfect moments? I guess that's up to me isn't it...and the grace of God.      

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

How Are You Feeling?

That's a normal question that normal people ask each other. Me? Not so much. I'm not feeling much of anything besides paranoia, emptiness and a vague sense of meaninglessness. Certainly these are not markers of a man within whom the Holy Spirit resides.

I touched on this several weeks ago. The symptoms do not seem to be improving.

I was reminded of the whole thing on Sunday while teaching class at church. We are studying Peter's letters to the churches in Asia Minor and somewhere midway through chapter 4 of First Peter he writes that we should be clear minded and self controlled so that we can pray. It struck me that I am never clear minded and I have way too much self control.

Seriously, my mind will not be still. It wanders all over the place all the time constantly overthinking everything and questioning everything, even the motivations of people that want to be my friends or even help me stay out of the depths of my mental Mordor.

Add to this the fact that I crush every feeling that comes through my mental doors to greet me because I CAN'T DEAL WITH IT ANYMORE! I just want it all nailed down so it's not flying up and hitting me in the face all the time with demands at inconvenient times of the day. This is not new behavior for me. I have been doing it all my life simply to deal with the SSA. I box it all up by categories and file them away in my brain where I won't find the feelings, but apparently the packing tape is getting old because all those thoughts and feelings have been escaping to torture me anew.  

I've spent much time in my life trying to create this Stoic exterior and it is crumbling.

If this continues, I will be a weeping mass of protoplasm, crying every ten minutes over something that I thought I had dealt with years ago.

There is just no middle ground with me. If I am to function in the real world, I need the mental acuity to be self controlled, but not at the expense of my mental or spiritual health. My spiritual side seems to be in a coma right now. Maybe something is trying to wake it up. Is that a good thing? I don't know. It scares me and at the same time I seem to want it.

I need to go fishing now. It will prevent me from thinking further about this.

Monday, September 4, 2017


Most education, even the Christian variety, is propaganda and indoctrination. There are right answers approved by the experts and their are wrong answers, that while correct, may not be acceptable to the general population or the experts and must be supressed. And so, I offer this guide to you, knowing that you will use it in the spirit intended.  

If life is tough for you, refer to the rules above. It should lighten your load considerably.

Monday, August 28, 2017

Angels We Have Heard On High

August was a month of birthdays for three of my friends (the Angels) and so we went out. We decided to go to 801 Chophouse in downtown Des Moines. Angel Two and I went to the bar first to wait for the others. It had the look of a library, complete with ladder to retrieve the bottles of the most expensive liquors from the upper shelves. After the other Angels arrived, we were seated in a booth that had birthday confetti strewn on the table top. Each of the Angels received a menu that had 'Happy Birthday' emblazoned on the opening page.

It is a classic, old style restaurant where the dining is as much an experience as a meal.  For the two hour + duration, we had one waitress named Joanie and she was superb. There was nothing on the menu that she could not explain and it was fairly complex. She was also very charming and she seemed to love her job.

The menu was a meat lovers dream and after much reflection, I think I want to go back, maybe on a Sunday night to try the Sunday supper. It is pricey, but my steak was done perfectly and the experience with my friends was wonderful.

I started with a cup of the lobster bisque. It was excellent, with nice chunks of lobster and a very creamy. It had just enough cayenne to give it some spark. The others had Caesar salad. We shared appetizers of  'Down Home' sauteed shrimp and baked escargot on toast. In retrospect, we probably should have gotten two servings of the shrimp. They were delightful and delightfully huge, but there were only four on the plate. Again, there was a hint of cayenne in the saute mixture with the butter and garlic, none of which overpowered the shear shirmpyness of the shrimp. The baked escargot was served on a metal tray with divots, each containing one escargot in garlic butter and covered with an unidentified cheese that was toasted to a golden brown. They were served with a sour dough toast. Mmmm.

For dinner I had the 16 oz New York Strip with bone marrow butter, some steamed broccoli, grilled asparagus in hollandaise and lobster mashed potatoes. Angel One had fillet Mignon medallions with a mushroom sauce, Angel Two had the rib eye and garlic mashed potatoes. And Angel Three had the prime rib. We all shared the sides of broccoli and asparagus and potatoes.

All the portions were huge and bags were provided to take home leftovers. I had none. The Angels will be enjoying there meal again this week.

Here are some pics from the night.

Again, Happy Birthday to all three of you Angels. Thank You for watching over me. I love you.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

Yellow Jackets

You see this little bastard? Him and about 5 of his buddies stung me up real good (9 times) on Wednesday. I still have welts and itching. Hot baths with baking soda and aloe vera gel help, but I have also been advised to take an antihistamine and I may go get some before dinner tonight. Here is an example of what they do to you.

I have one just like that on my back. I have two welts on the underside of my right upper arm, three on the underside of my left, two on my left elbow and one on the inside of my left leg that came awfully close to little Jeffery and the twins if you know what I mean.

They apparently build their nests in the ground. I was pulling weeds in a raised garden plot when I discovered their presence via the sting to the back. And yes, they went right through some fairly heavy clothing. I was not standing still after the first sting. I ran, but to know avail.

The sting is like being stuck with a pin that you can't pull out. That feeling lasts for some time as the welt forms and reddens. The pin stuck sensation has dissipated now to a severe itch that topical treatment only helps for a short time. It's maddening. The other thing that happened immediately after the event was a severe headache. I suppose it was the effects of all the venom entering my body at one time. The little effers poisoned me.

Anyway, after treating my wounds, I grabbed a can of wasp spray in the garage, returned to the sight of the crime and sprayed down their little waspy asses. They are now in wasp hell I hope. I am also now a proud owner of a yellow jacket trap. I would like to send more of them to their eternal, infernal reward.

Done whining now. Back to work.