the keys were in the pants he left behind. It was a very strange night. J.
Johnny Masuda
I’ve reached that age when time tells stories and causes memories to float to the surface with completed "out of body" visuals and live soundtracks when I saw them first at Anaheim stadium soaked in rain just cool enough to make drugs more necessary than entertainment pink floyd dropped a giant burning pig
that's very kind of you. Thank you. J.
I don’t think I’ll make the talk show circuit, I can’t imagine such folk would “cotton” to my words I can’t see myself side by side with jay dave o’brien or that other guy I’m not the guy you’d invite into your living rooms you might stone me or steal my boots but you don’t want your kids to think I’m cool
Ah, excuse me, are points a good thing or a bad thing? J.
You'll get no arguement from me. As I understand it, we (mankind) have the technological ability to end suffering for every person on earth, but justice doesn't seem to be as blind as we would hope. I share your frustration, I'm open to hearing more about it. J.
My mom had colon cancer. With help from hospice and the dedication of my wife, she died well. I hope you have a good support system. My mom lived five years after diagnosis. I was hard on everyone. Especially on my mom, it was tough for her to lose her independence. Tougher to admit she needed help than actually being helped. Pray helps alot. I wish you well. J.
I saw you lester it was raining inside and out and I saw you as you ran across the hill that separated you from your temptation too opportune to resist you fucking perverted shit you took scott at 6 dressed him sexy little girls clothes with ribbons and lace lipstick ruby whore red you smoked rock aft
I need to know dad 40 years ago killing people with napalm and agent orange deep in those jungles somewhere how did it make sense to spin the cylinder defying the next click to be the one you sat there drunken in your chair feet swollen from jungle rot or some weird fungus half empty tilter of
my trash is overflowing the cardboard pizza holders are bulging tobacco juice dripping to the floor I want to write to you somehow pretend you didn’t mean it tell my little girl how much I love her yes, I said love my heart was born the day you were greater yet than any other I remember every word
only forty-five dead so far this month less than last more than most but they’re dead cool flags over coffins not black plastic like when we were kids dan rather doesn’t hang in Baghdad it’s an election year and both dogs are licking their ass Charlie rose has moved onto latinos the Mexican voter wave and
if you want to know more, just ask me, I don't mind. J.
I have been called insane by the best experts one and all one even chased the devil out of me at 6 on a shell covered road in texas three little kids in danger of going to hell kneeling in the sun, we said the sinners prayer word for word shells grinding into our little knees bleeding for jesus th
seems that way, sometimes. J.
I think we’ve lost our rage I don’t see anyone pissed off any more. and our pride is something like after McGovern and the summer of love it’s more altamont not Woodstock bikers proving the point and everyone wonders where or when it got so strange I think we’ve been stunned with the repeating banality of
down the hall just off the elevator cindy 5 foot tall growing round from the treatments has a malignant ball of poison standing sentential between her hopes and dreams she battles the reaper taking prisoner with cytoxin in a saline drip often crying thru the pain but triumphant over reason’s call to<B
cool, I think. J.
as a little boy in the backwater of texas I played with the kids across the ditch three dirt faced boys and seven girls of all ages. we’d hunt sand lions and sneak into the cow pond next to the county road pretend to be soldiers or the “Man from U.N.C.L.E.” in the hot summer days we’d join the Mexicans in the cotton
I'm honored. J.
I'm not sure if this a good thing or a bad thing? J.
I look at the birds the birds look at me it’s 3:49 in the afternoon humidity is high still in boxers boxers still sticking in the sweat and I wanna write something anything but it’s not there or here or over there next to the planter nor is it hidden in the keys by the tube I could straighte
what were you thinking? what twisted sick insanity grabbed you and changed you into my tormentor rapist when I was 5 did the evil grow inside you two houses down did the sight of my little legs dangling from my blue cutoffs entice you harden you make your breath stutter and struggle was there sweat o
i don’t hate you, truly I don’t maybe a little envy now and then, maybe I close my eyes and drive your car something expensive or roll chocolate drops so smooth my tongue hallucinates bud colors but I don’t hate you I redress my pettiness preferring deprivation over indulgence and I paint my
I have read the cotton patch bible. I went to BIOLA University, then Cal State Fullerton, then Notre Dame. ABD in sociology. I will look into the Ragamuffin Gospel. Thanks. J.
Sorry everyone, but the reference I made to being in seminary was a joke. Although, for a brief moment in time I did attend an evangelical christian college. They convinced me of the error of my ways and escorted me off campus. I went on to finish at a proper state university.