No Evening Hunt

Madigan and I came back down the mountain around 1 am.  We’d been gone since 730.  No deer. No elk. No bear.  Madigan had his first experience with ‘ambush’. He doesn’t do ‘stillness and quiet’ too well. Puppy brain working overtime.  I tried an hour and he was interested. I think he did 3 minutes straight at one point. He learned to stay back too rather than taking the point while I stalked.  It was a glorious day though overcast.

We saw lots of terrain. I’m getting to know this mountain better each visit.  

I’d hoped to go out on the evening hunt.  But after the barbecued back bacon and scrambled eggs I was tired. I lay down to sleep and was out for an hour and a half.  I was still tired when I woke.  No evening hunt. I rode the electric bike down to the Provincial Campground 2 km away. I’m building back my knee with the power assist.  Then it was back at the camper reading.  

I barbecued pork chops and we had them with a salad kit. Delicious. To quote an old adage, everything tastes better in the woods.  I love the smell of the air. It’s like drinking different juices. Flavours of different woods, marsh, smoke.  Everything so savoury.  

Tomorrow I’m ready to go again. I’ll get up earlier and hopefully get away too. I’ll need to get up the mountain and find a place to sit in ambush. If its raining that’s a different matter. It rained a little this evening.  I love this time of the year.  Fall coming out.  Sunshine mostly and if there’s a shower it comes and goes. Not like later in November when the rainy season goes on for a couple of months. 

So many blessings today.  Such a lovely site. Such a lovely place.  Great company. Madigan, dog of dogs.  Great equipment. Now if only a deer, elk or bear would be ready to pass over.  Thank you Creator for such wonders. 

Hunting weekend, Similkameen River, Riverhaven RV Park

Laura makes me feel ‘manly’.  I enjoying camping and hunting and feeling no shame in masculinity.  Toxic feminists seem to breed in the urban cafe but dwindle out where masculinity is appreciated.  Laura loves being in the camper and Madigan and I love being out on the Honda ATV in the woods.  It’s a lot of work to manage all the aspects of daily living. Water systems, heating and refridgeration, automotive, community, electricity, sewage.  It’s a whole different thing to be sitting in a space station city apartment with all the services vaguely ‘miraculously there.”

We’re not roughing it by any means. Laura stoically joined me for all the tenting days when I’d leave her with a rifle and go off bear hunting in bear country.  She stayed in the truck one time. Another time a freak snow storm collapsed the tent roof and I found her sitting inside beside the heater read. She loves to read.  Another time while myself and the guys were out hunting grouse one landed on the picnic table and she shot it with her 22.  We were skunked and she had the grouse.  

I love this Riverhaven RV Campground. It has all the services, electricity, city water supply, sewage.  We can also access the ATV trails and back woods off the RV site.  There’s a beach and all the kids are down there all day. Yesterday was hot and sunny. I’d thought to jump into the cool stream but missed my opportunity. Today it’s overcast. Lots of folk are down swimming and playing by the water. But I’m passing. I only like cold water when it’s hot and sunny outside. I did just get out of a heavenly hot shower in the Adventurer camper. I love the Adventurer Camper.  

It was all day getting out here on Thursday. We had errands in the morning, and had to load the camper at John’s.  I also had to hook up the Lowe’s Store Utility Trailer with the Honda 420 Tracker ATV.  There’s keys and locks for everything so it’s always a mental Alzheimer’s test trying to remember all the details.  I keep meaning to get a flight checklist but forget to do it only to have to remember again next time.  We’d stopped at Cabelas on the way out only to find there was almost no ammunition.  None for my rifles.  Thankfully I found what I wanted at Canadian tire.  30:06 180 grain Nussler Partition.  What a find? I bought four boxes.  I’ve not been able to find any for a year but luckily have had leftovers from previous years.  The 300 Win Mag Short is all sold out too.  

It’s bow hunting, dear and elk but rifle for bear hunting. I found the bear banger gifts but the ammo was sold out.  I got a solid lock for the new electric bicycle. I hadn’t brought the Vespa so if we didn’t have something we’d have to do with out.  I was thinking this when we got to Hope to provision.  At Chilliwack we noticed the price of gas is way up.  Being older and knowing the country before Trudeau’s waste and mismanagement I remember $100 paid for a weekend of gas. Now it’s more like $400. All the food prices have gone up too because of all the taxes on primary processes and inflation.  I’m okay.  I’m still working yet I no longer feel clean paying taxes. Paying the terrorist ten million dollars for killing the American medic never sat well with me. When my taxes went to roads, defence and hospitals I was okay. Not okay but now it’s scandalous.  All the people who don’t work and don’t want to work are being rewarded and we’re suffering more and more taxes and less and less income. Same with legal gun owners, high costs and impeccable behaviour while the criminals get a pass from the government. 

Oh well, I’m far from the maddening crowd.  I love it here. Families and children and no loud music. A really well run campground.  Lovely owners.  So helpful. 

At Hope I really loaded a lot of food.  People are stockpiling canned food again as fall is coming on and more and more shortages are appearing in the stores.  Other than ammo we’ve been fortunate.  I’ve used Amazon to get some sweet items for camping.  Motion sensitive portable lights.  Also a soft Kolpin ATV gear bag seat that’s just skookum.  I like Kolpin.  

The ride up through Manning Park was a delight on a sunny day.  It wasn’t at all like the smoky surreal world I passed through last month. There was still some smouldering fire at East gate. There had been major flames before and black billowing smoke. Now it was just a little grey smoke.  A last stop at the Princeton store for sandwich meats. That’s all I’d forgotten at Hope.

The refridgerator is working well again thanks to Nick at Far Out RV in Hope.  

We finally made it to Riverhaven at dusk. A beautiful river side site. Lots of room. I was able to put the trailer beside the Camper and Ford F-350.  We’d had MacDonald’s from Hope so weren’t hungry. I did eat a cold cheese burger left over and that satisfied me. Laura wasn’t hungry after the quarter pounder late afternoon. It was so quiet and the stars were out.  

Madigan cried half the night. He wanted to be on the bed. He was bored. He was upset. I woke at 2:30 am with a cramp, took him for a walk and downed several Alleve.  I slept in. 930 am.  

Yesterday was a great day.  I actually went through all the gear and sorted it out.  It’s the first day of hunting and it’s always like this. I did get the net tent up.  Laura doesn’t like mosquitoes so I got this skookum net tent with bright lime roof. Caravan Canopy Screen House10 ft by 10ft. I put it up myself. Only takes one person. Modern design and really light weight. I love it. Laura loves it. 

When I was all set up I headed out with Madigan on the ATV.  I had to go through a rancher’s field and open and close the barb wire fence.  Magpies and steller’s jays were in the trees. Maybe even a whiskey jack. I’d see all of those and more.  Lots of birds. We stopped where we did in the spring. Madigan is fine with rifles. I sited in the Ruger and it was good enough. Nice pattern a hundred years. A couple of inches high and to the right.  It was okay.  I tried the old and new ammunition and it was okay.  Then I shot an arrow from the Excalibur hitting in the second ring from bullseye, first shot standing, 30 yards. Good enough.  Madigan was having fun running around off leash.  

I just rode the Honda 420 all over the mountain.  I saw a rabbit.  I raised a covey of grouse and got pictures.  Grouse season opens in a week. I saw one doe climbing up the mountain.  No bear.  Lots of cows. I was surprised by two beautiful young women in a Jeep wearing cammo. I’d not heard them as the ATV motor the Jeep’s quiet engine. They stopped and smiled and we shared about seeing lots of cows. I don’t know if they were hunting but they could have been. First time then for me seeing two girls out hunting together.  Always two or more guys or a couple.  I came across them again near dusk when I was heading back. I’d stopped to scope a  black lump on a mountain side. They passed me while I was stopped. 

It was 8 pm when I got back.  Dark. I barbecued some steaks and we used the cold salads I’d bought in Princeton. A lovely meal.  Not much longer we were in bed and Madigan slept well.  The park was really quiet. I ‘d walked Madigan before I went to bed around 10.  Everyone was turned in by then except for a couple of campsites where folks were sitting around the dead fire pit talking quietly. There’s a fire ban. Madigan slept and I slept and Laura slept. It was a glorious sleep.

This morning I was up at 6 am but I didn’t get going till 7:30.  Dawn was 630 . Supposed to be in position ready to ambush the dear at dawn.  I actually got up the mountain and find a place to watch for deer.  Madigan was learning how to walk behind me and did his best to sit still. Not very good. He would get 3-5 minutes before his attention broke and he had to look at something or chew a pine cone or climb on me. He did well. Normally I’m meditative and don’t move at all waiting for deer.  I was distracted but last an hour and a half before I got back on the ATV.  I drove all over the mountain after that. I stopped to let Madigan have some pond water. I had a couple of stops for coffee. Scanning the valley an clearings.  It was chilly at first but warmed up.

More grouse.  a Rabbit .  Doves. No elk, deer or bear.  But. I was there.

I came down the mountain after noon.  It feels safe here and I didn’t mind leaving stuff on my ATV. I put the bow and rifle in the locked truck but didn’t feel the need to unload.  I’d just put a tarp over the ATV the night before and found nothing disturbed in the morning.

I’d been hankering after eggs and bacon so barbecued some back bacon while Laura made scrambled eggs. We ate together outside under the Screen Tent. 

I had a lovely shower.  It’s so dusty on the back trails.  I loved getting clean.  

Now I’ll head up for evening hunt in an hour or two.  I might have a nap first. It’s so peaceful here.  

Surviving

I’m surviving. I’m getting by.  I’m doing time.  I’m doing good. I’m grateful. I’m in god’s waiting room. I’m on the bench. I’m okay. All is well. I feel like a shoe has to drop. The lockdowns, the masks, the threat of war, war and rumours of war, the invasions we can’t call invasions, the haters we can’t call haters, the death of democracy, all the fears, censorship, catastrophizing, what to think. Death seems imminent. I’m aware of many passing. My age retiring or dying or having disease.

I’m wondering what to do when I grow up. What’s the next chapter.

I had thought sail the Atlantic but don’t really want the struggle or the cast.  

I was interested in finding God but it’s the hound of heaven times and foot steps in the sand. God’s with me all the time.

I’m going bow hunting.I don’t want to kill but I want venison. I’m one with Creator when I’m harvesting.  I’m in a soft world and I like it. A place of hair and nails and skirts and visits for therapy. I loved 9 perfect strangers.  I once was William Hurt in his movies. Identified with Clint Eastwood one, even Woody Allen and Sean Connery. Now I’m Mr. Bean.

There’s a farcical side to life, Monty Python compared to War and Peace. I don’t live large. I’m average.  A kazoo in the symphony of life.  I no longer envy the kettle drum or the cello. I’m marking time. Pacing.  Waiting for a sign. Waiting for Godot.

I’m raising a puppy. 

I’m healing.

I’m carrying for folk in an okay sort of way. I once demanded greatness from myself. Now I’m holding the line. I’m not happy with the leadership, in general. I’ve watched years of waste and corruption lies and abuse.  I’m suffering like others. I watch my tax dollars go to the worst evil and I used to think it was okay because taxes paid for roads and hospitals. Now they pay for terrorists and Quebec con man and liars.  I’m irritated. Just generally.  There’s the sense that the UN is no longer benign but an instrument of war, Sharia Communism.  Feminism has failed women.  Christianity has been weak in recent days but we turn the cheek 70 times 70≥ I’m sure I’ve turned my head like Carrie.

Where are you now Douglas Adams? 

I’m not sitting on the dock of the bay but rather here in Canada with coming winter and feeling fear about the flu and Covid not rationally but because of years of NOCEBO and CURSING by government. The boogeyman will get you. I’m more likely to die from an accident. Yet theres’ fashion in the news. Lemming minds.  Let’s dog pile this idea.

I’m limited by social media. I trust more what friends share that the anonymous propaganda of ‘official’ news. The ‘fact checkers’ alligned’ with mainstream media have been so wrong and biased and ignorant of post graduate thought.  They cater to the masses.  Lies.

But all is well in my realm.

Carpe died. I’m truly blessed. Rather than compare my present with the worst days of my past I’m somehow comparing with idealized perfection. 

This is good. Life is good. I’m blessed. God is good. All of the time.

Thank you for the light and sound. Thank you for the breath. Thank you for the dog. Thank you for my home. Thank you for family and friends. Thank you for the colours. Thank you for heart. Thank you for motion. Thank you for gravity. Thank you for imagination. Thank you for creation. Thank you for guidance. Thank you for love and lust and celebration and laughter. Thank you for wakefulness and sleep. Thank you for similarities and opposites. Thank you for mind. Thank you for taste. Thank you for attraction and repulsion. Thank you for immunology and psychiatry . Thank you for music. Thank you for ideas. Thank you for trees and birds and lakes and streams. Thank you for stories. Thank you for reading. Thank you Jesus. 

Colin Falconer

I’m reading Colin Falconer’s Silk Road. It’s a brilliant adventure historical fiction.  It pairs a Templar with a Dominic papal priest travelling from to the ‘centre of the universe’, Karakoram, capital of the Mongol Empire,  near the centre of modern day Mongolia.  They are on a mission to speak to the Khan but what is so enjoyable are their meeting with people along the silk route, their conversations, the great adventures, the incredible Tatar Princess, and the comparison of her with the Chin Dynastiy women. All the while there is discussion of Buddhism, Mohammedism, Christian Nestorianism and the most rigid Catholicism as opposed to the liberal faith based Templar tradition. Great wars and romance and visual delights woven by the greatest of story tellers.I am so glad I’ve found this new author.

He’s right up there with previous authors of historical fiction like American writer, James Michener’s whose books were a wealth of history, geography and philosophy. Michener’s characters and plot are not  as well developed as Falconer’s whose more comparable to the great African writer Wilbur Smith.  His writing certainly captures conflict well like Tolstoy, but equally the sensual like D.H. Lawrence  His passion in not at all salacious as George Macdonald Frazer, creator of that greatest that great historical fiction character, Flashman. I was excited to find Falconer as I was to find Peter Rimmer whose writer is as ‘full’ and ‘absorbing’.  This Silk Road captured me as Flight of the Fish Eagle did.  Colin Falconer is simply brilliant though in his ability to take the most erudite subject, a discussion of the nature of being, and turn it into a dialogue as good as Franny and Zoey of Salinger or Steppenwolf of Herman Hesse. 

I’ve downloaded several more of his books as happy as I was when I found Baldacci, Daniel Kallas, Ian Rankin, Anthony Melville-Ross,Phillip McCurtchan, Hiiansen, Harlan Coban, Manda Scott, Bernard Cornwall,  Griff Hosker,  Louis L’Amour, Tom Clancy, Asimov.  Each of so many writers has been just that good that I haven’t been able to stop at one.  Like ice cream they cry for more.  I’m an inveterate reader of every genre except perhaps horror though Steven King is the exception.  I can remember young when I ‘found’  Robert Heinlein and later Douglas Adams.  True treasures.  But historical fiction has always had it’s appeal for me a student of history.  I’ve often read a text of ‘non fiction’ history alongside an historical fiction enchanted by the tale woven by the writer who not only is a story teller but a researcher.  

Finding Colin Falconer has awakened that delight I’ve known again and again though less with age. I sometimes feel jaded and a bit ‘bored’ by modern writers, like the too predictable detective story.  I liked reading Tannis Laidlaw recently who adds to the Agatha Christie genre.  As a psychologist her insights into humans are so engaging. Colin Falconer though does all of this and more with his intimate grasp of ideas ,brilliant caracterization and the truly epic adventure tale.  

Thank you.  I now have quite a few books to read when the books shelves were less well stocked than those of the young man. That young man simply soared to meet Dostoyevsky,  William Somerset Maugham , Winston Churchill and H.G. Wells. Now it takes an Abraham Verghese , Cutting the Stone to lift me out of older age and that ennui so well written of in the Bonfire of the Vanities.

Thank you, Colin Falconer for being a truly inspirational  author that keeps me up late at night, glad to be alive, looking forward to the next page like a child enthralled by the campfire tale. . 

Shopping

I actually used my ‘reminder’ app on the iPhone.  I’d get three of the 7 on the list done.  I would have missed one without the memory assist.  So organized.  

I left the poor little cockapoo forlorn at home to guard the premises.  He looked so dejected.  I armed the security system but left off the nanny cam. He got in trouble yesterday for attacking a cushion, killing it and beginning to eviscerate it. He’s been on good behaviour since I shouted at him and told him ‘no’ in no uncertain terms. It’s been a month since he killed Big Bird, my down comforter.  He’s learning.  Still less than a year.  He’s acting like a big boy with a ferocious bark when neighbor dogs come into his yard. 

The Vespa Touring 300 is still a darling Scooter. I’ve the big Harley but in the city will I much prefer the Vespa. I’m off to look at a folding electric bike tomorrow morning. Deer hunting begins in December. I’d love to leave the Vespa but have a bike I can put in the back seat of the truck. I’ll be using the Honda 420 Rancher ATV for hunting.  Ride up into the mountains and settle in on deer trail hoping a buck comes within range of my Excaliber bow. I’ll have a rifle along for black bear as the season has opened for them.  Rifle season for deer opens later in Sept.  

Laura’s coming. We’ve been texting back and forth this week excited by the nearness of the trip.  The camper and truck are ready to go and we’re booked into a full service camp ground with Wifi water , electricity, sewage and wifi. The ATV trails lead off from the RV campground.

I parked the Vespa in the Mall parking lot. I’m wearing my new painted half boots.  Very unique.  I love them and at Cobs a pretty lady standing next to me complimented me on the boots.  I liked that.  I’d stopped at the precious jewel stored and bought some amber stud earrings. I saw they were on sale when I looked in once when I in the mall to pick up my Mail. No time then but now I have a couple of pairs of amber earrings. I’ve lost so many over the years.  Motorcycle helmets eat them.  No matter how much I try to remember and check.  Motorcycle helmets are sneaky and they just love amber earrings.  The gold studs do much better.  

My Cuisianart coffee grinder died. I was going to take it to a little repair shop I’d seen in the neighbourhood but a couple of weeks later nothing had happened. I chucked it in the garbage.  Decided I couldn’t mess with the morning schedule. I’d been using my back up camp grinder.  The Bay had the exact one and it had a 3 year warranty.  Stupid of me. I’ll remember to keep the receipt and this one will last decades.  They are only $100 and I did get a year or so wear out of the last one.  I’ve a new one now.

My coffee bean roaster died today too. I think the universe is criticizing me for drinking so much coffee in the morning.  Ethiopia’s Lallibella carved  underground churches, the Likes of the Pyramids,  have been overrun by the Tigray communist mobs.  This is at the same time the Taliban has routed Biden from Afghanistan and are murdering more Christians while Trudeau continues to rant about Islamophobia. His cabinet called the Taliban ‘our brothers’ , somehow forgetting they’d killed hundreds of Canadian soldiers in the last year.  Ethiopian coffee is the source of the first coffee and I have been able to order Yirgacheffe and Sedona beans on Amazon. A local East Africa store brought in a lot of the green beans so I bought a lot and have been roasting and grinding this nectar all through Covid.  Outside the monastery in Ethiopia I sat under coffee trees and watched as it was made for me, a highlight of my pilgrimage to Ethiopia.  I couldn’t find a roaster in the mall and was so disappointed that Ming Woo kitchen store has closed .Flight centre has gone too. So many specialty shops have fallen to the lockdowns.  I’m thankful for those that survived.

I did get an inexpensive toaster that advertises itself as 50% faster than other toasters.  I love toast but don’t like waiting for my slow expensive toaster which makes perfect toast.  In the morning I just want toast as a platform I can smear peanut butter and jam on.  Mostly in the morning I have a yoghurt and a protein bar.  If I’ve been prepared I have hard boiled eggs and with fall coming I’ll definitely have more toast and jam and even porridge.  

The chill is in the air.  I have enjoyed watching the geese go overhead in V’s .  I’m not ready for the summer to end. I could easily enjoy another month of hot sun and lying on the lawn chair in the back yard. With Covid and the Flu I’m bearing up for the war of immunology and climate. I’ve bought more vitamins today.  I’m taking extra D and Zinc.

This pumpkin latte at Starbucks is really good.  I’ve had several ‘shopping days’ this summer and am actually enjoying the ‘outings’.  The coffee break and a little writing thrown into the middle of the walking about from store to store looking at merchandise and people works. I’m actually fatigue and I’ve only done this for an hour.  Shopping is rather exhausting and for a low activity sport it’s surprising.  I’ve not spent much money not like the day I bought shoes and had more peircings.  So it doesn’t seem to be a direct consequence of the outflow of money energy.  It just always seems tiring.  Even when I’ve shopping in out door markets I’ve come away tired. Perhaps its the mass of people or the slow speed or hauling parcels.  I do like getting home and looking at the loot.  Consumerism.  Consumer therapy.   

Normally I know exactly what I want, like the folding electric bicycle. I’ve been researching them for years and again for the last month. I’ll go tomorrow and if the one I like is fine in person I’ll just buy it and leave.  “Men shop like they fuck,” a woman told me.  There’s some truth to it.  This sauntering about looking at everything and occasionally picking something is a bit feminine.  I suppose I’ve done something similar in a hard ware store. But this mall shopping bit is fairly novel. I’m mostly doing it with girlfriends. I suppose I could learn to like it.  On space ships the mall and the walking about inside will be de rigour.

I’m so looking forward to being in the woods though …..a few days. 

Now to get back and load the Vespa and relieve the little guy whose no doubt feeling abandoned and neglected and calling dog counsellors to discuss his feelings of neglect.  Meanwhile I’m thinking it’s good for him to do some work.  In a week or two he’ll be a Knight attacking a dragon partridge to retrieve it for me.  What fun!!!

Random Thursday

Laura wrote that it was National Dog Day.  Last night some one phoned at 4 am. Woke me. I didn’t answer. No message. I couldn’t get back to sleep.  Thinking of blocking the number. Not sure how to do it. Flashbacks to call nights.  Guts and gun shot wounds.  Crisis line calls.  Attempted suicide. Violence.  I was afraid a lot in my work. Dangerously insane. Unknown strangers. Then the lying psychopaths with false accusations and their friends in high places waiting to help social terroris. The PM paying terrorists who killed medics 10 million dollars.  I’d loved Barbarella but the day she became Hanoi Jane, she became ugly. Talking to POW’s who were being tortured while the commandant quoted ‘beautiful American actress’.  Trudeau , scum of the earth. Already I didn’t like him but that day he paid the Muslim terrorists 10 million dollars was the day the light went out of the world. Davos and Agenda 21.  Was life a nightmares. Epstein’s Suicide. The Trumped up dossier on Trump.  The PM ‘taking a knee’ in the Marxist BLM riots.  Public health officials saying its okay to have political rallies but not to gather for converts.  The lies and more lies and insanity on steroids.  Media gone mad.

It’s hard to get back to sleep since Covid. I’d been dreaming of taking a group of friends on my sailboat into that harbour I always return to in my dreams.  Tom was there and Laura to.  Madigan was with me. Then I was in a huge cathedral where people were sitting about discussing God and life, ethics and character.  I next was in a cafe and I had my Excaliber 30:06 with me and another man was there cleaning his rifle. It might have been Kevin.  I was talking to George and that’s when I woke up to the phone. Thankful to remember the dreams.  The locations were part of my heaven. This place I go in my dreams, an Athens like peninsula.

Madigan cuddled and comforted me through the night. I tried to get back to sleep and dozed and prayed.  

I began this blog as a step up from my previous writing collection. Since I was a teen I’ve been writing. I had 3 ring binders. I kept a personal journal which had a recurrent theme of guilt about masturbating then about sex then about masturbation.  A personal journal chronicling my lust and short fall from love.  I’d also record resentments and self pity.  Then I had another binder which was about travel and ideas.  I had for years story and poetry snippets.  Then there were long philsophival and theological discourses .I kept these in cardboard boxes which ended up in basements and storage lockers.

When I began this blog I had several themes and others have told me they wished I’d separated them like I did the binders.  One was the journal.  It still records the confusion about sex drive. Freudian psyvhiatry is all about sex and aggression.  So there’s that.

The other theme is travel and observations . This is coupled with photographs I take of my adventures and experiences

Then there is the psychiatric discourse.

Then there are the theological discourses.

Then the travel journal and observations, anthropological and personal

Sharing my personal journal was an experiment in transparency. I found that too many of my patients and people I knew had the false notion that their thoughts were different in kind from other ‘well people’.  They aren’t.  People who have read my personal journal have said ‘you’re crazy’.  I’ve asked them ‘don’t you think like that at time? “. They’ve invariably said “I do but I’d never share it.”  

We are as sick as our secrets.

We no longer have the luxury of privacy.  The PM can be fucking goats in his children bed room with his wife snorting coke but the majority of us don’t have a body guard and information control .  We can’t by reporters and CBC.  I don’t know what the Saudi Prince puts up his ass, frogs or gerbils or scorpions but a journalist was killed in the embassy and chopped up while his wife waited for him outside. The Argentinian police were nortorious for have very small penis and a penchant for liking prostitutes to pour fresh squeezed mothers milk up their ass holes. Latinos have this mother thing. But we only knew about the government sexual inadequacy because all the reporters who learned about it and got pictures of the President fucking pigeons went missing.  Finally we learned that the Clintons and Trudeau’s liked Epstein’s island and Epstein suicided.  Mel Gibson is making a movie about the Rothschilds.  Bankers wear diapers and suck on soothers while old ladies perform fellatio.  

Perversion is everywhere.  It’s part of the honey pot and spy industry and whole countries have been traded based on threat of disclosure of pictures of gay encounters.  

Yesterday sex secrets were big business. Now the big tech companies, and all the social media agencies have more personal information on everyone than ever before. The Supreme Court Judge candidate lost his position when it was found his house ordered Debby Does Dhallas and other salacious material. It turned out it was his teen age son.  Judges have access to the real thing so it’s usually teens and Communist Chinese Military that are into hard porn .  The Communists have always listed after western girls not interested in their masculine comrades worn down by the chauvinism of Marx and Mao. 

E.e. Cummings ‘They’ and ‘Thosepeople’ know everything about all of us. Obama even spied on the leaders of his allies. Homeland Security accesses everything.  Theree’s a camera somewhere always.  The police might not have clearance to access it but someone more elite does.

It’s all above my pay grade.

I wanted to show that sane people, I’m ultra sane, are crazy in their thoughts. What we think is everything.  What we dwell on is different. The saying is a bird can shit on your head but you don’t let it make a nest in your hair. The brain is like a radio receiver.  Even in my dreams I’m replaying a scene from the tv show I watched last night and a bit from a book I’m reading. They’re both about the Middle East so the tv plot and the book plot got mixed up in the dream.

It’s alright to think of suicide , homicide, sex with giraffes or flying.  It’s not alright to act on a whole lot of thoughts.  I really still want to touch the breasts of beautiful women I meet but I don’t want to be condemned for the dirty old man I am.  Meanwhile the President is sniffing the hair of little girls and whacking off to memories of scents. Others are masturbating to images. I’ve talked to thousands of people normal and abnormal about their masturbatory fantasies. I’ve talked to thousands about their thoughts. I’ve listened to hundreds free associate. I’ve asked the most personal questions .I’ve examined gun shot wounds and see the ravages of children’s genitalia after adult rape.  

I have a lot of fairly skewed experiences.  I sit with people in church anf they’re concerned about thinking about a night with a whore. I’ve been in the whore house then been the doctor of escorts and confidant of escorts. I’ve listened to rapists and murderers.

its what you dwell on.  I might think in passing about nuking a neighbour but its been decades since I took the time to spend weeks seeing how difficult it would be to make a dirty bomb. It’s been decades since I had a collections of poisons in the basement I found in the woods. I studied poison for a bit there like my friend kept snakes and studied venom.  

Today i share my thoughts and am coming to the end of that project.  PM Trudeau and other world leaders in the west are joining with the Communist UN and turning the clock back to the 15th century like the Taliban time pieces.  Others are worshipping Marx and Lenin. It’s the 21st century and our PM is trapped somewhere back in the 19th venury to the 15th century. Merkle was a scientist and it was obvious.  Trudeau is a nasty idiot with a family name and a trust fund. It’s obvious. We’ve had a number of these hollywood type leaders recently. Front men and front women.  They’ve moved the world along to one world government and totalitarians. It’s scarey.  

Freedom of speech is gone.  So Freedom of thought will be gone soon. I wanted others to know they were okay. I’m okay you’re okay .  But Freud with the National Socialists, the Nazi’s took charged escaped and said “maybe the paranoids are right’.  

I’m thinking that too and I’m thinking that this ‘project’ of sharing my weakness and inadequacy and negativity might be enough. I”m clear that I doubt, am confused, have uncertainty, am moody.  I’ve known that courage is doing the right thing in spite of fear. I’ve been courageous.  Xi Jinping is a pig. A running dog killler and murferer. Dr. Robert Hares descriptions of sociopaths and psychopaths was the best. They’re charming and they were three pieces suits and fuck pond muck.  They are a nest. They are insects that run together. The worlds leaders deal in war, drugs , child prostitution and power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I don’t judge them at that level since maybe I’d be like them if I had more opportunity.  The majority of people lead lives of quiet desperation and van’t afford to act out their vile impulses.  

I’m going to work.  At work I help people. It’s a good thing like the Buddhist idea of ‘right livelihood.’  I’m thankful.  Thank you Jesus. 

Moon

Sometimes I believe the phases of the moon control my passion. Lunacy. As the full moon approaches my libido rises and I believe I will find release in the night. That appears a pattern but there is no pattern, passion comes and goes randomly. My desire for a sex change waxes and wanes. One day I want to move to Alberta and know joy in horses and rodeo as I once did then another day I’m ready to move to Ireland tow work and write. I sometimes am on the verge in summer to fly to my boat and set sail For the Caribbean taking the inside passage not worrying about the sept. Then I riding in my truck and camper with my dog across America. I’m pushed and pulled by thoughts, dreams and wishes. The surge over me like the sea. I move in them a while letting the water rise in the shallow but avoiding the deep. I’m not ready to plunge right in. This life I’m living the after thought of my brothers sickness and death okay. I am on land some days missing the sea. Wondering what the next advenute will be, marking time still enjoying the work but feeling decidedly like I’m marking time, marching on the spot. Then I look at the little dog and realize he’s maturing and he’s becoming more a friend and companion. I am doing good. I am far less than I once was. My drive and focus are no longer aiming for the best I can be, I’m satisfied and good enough and am meeting a need and doing what has to be done. I’m an okay player on a professional team. It’s easy now and I’m content to play the game relaxed. I don’t need to leave. In time I will.There are many moons and I still have a few.