This student of matters seems to be focusing on "Grandfather Zone" President Bush in Maine, as he sees through it to a convenient passage into Canadian territory circling like a converging spiral around a fox nest of states including New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Nova Scotia. Above him, a disappointed ghost of the Banner looks into St. James Bay from Lake Huron. Bananas? Alas, Babylon. It is best to concentrate on "the Maine thing" at this time : || (R) Agenda | (D) Party, and no doubt on greetings and salutations.

Note how the point of the beard impacts "Tennessee", which (as I recall) concentrates on providing industrial work for workers, being shaped like a saw blade and a penis connected to the King's Indian with boots planted in Louisiana.

"This third period was once again a period of ‘storms and revolutions’. The period starts at a time "when a new source of great world storms opened up..." - V.I.Lenin

I mean, how would "V.I.Lenin" get through? The "V" would cut a hole in the wall, then the penis would go through so that it could be "eyed". Then sympathy for the dong would be highest if it were very best member, and so forth, until children would at least sport splendid dicks and men could escape from those blind angels somehow. Read all about it in Green Goes Bananas (now lost). The glory holing machines were an old device of men with hair on their chiny-chin-chins. As dicks got bigger and bigger, men got taller and taller, until the man with those gizmos had the tallest soldiers in his army, the officers that could carry boiling oil to the battlements the fastest. That way an internal program of sympathy for an erection became one of Natural Selection for a kind of evolution into Soviet Man. Furthermore, smaller specimens with shorter dongs would turn into the she-male soul mates, or "surrogate" wives for taking their L"d" off the wall. The whole idea was often viewed as a "diabolical plot", however, by parents of children in this class. If the hole were cut so that it could be fit up an angel's bottom, that "exacerbated" matters.

In the Wichita environment, such chambers exist complete with exciting sex movies, but now feature Plexiglas over the holes, so that insemination of women is not easy. "Got the world locked up inside a plastic box....she's a Twentieth Century Fox..." However, they may still work for natural selection. Since face-to-face meetings are required, this class of glory holing machine may produce negotiations that defend against systematic insemination of children of reduced intelligence. It is unclear to me just when the "systolic array processors" for this application were invented, or what their history of evolution was.

I believe that these gadgets were often regarded as harmless devices for winning friends, but just funny enough so this class of confessional chamber is a "keep it quiet" machine. Many say that they were "well-served" by such contraptions, or that they "served them well". Obviously, this is the sort of scheme which appeals primarily to materialist "philosophers" who prefer to fill angels stripped of their fur, when males are taken. Of course, it also appeals to surrogate females who like to check those dongs out for warts before they get a bit too low on the stick.

For more on this flinty materialist solution to romance, see The Erotic Hots Study Guide. TenderMan didn't get it, but you, a budding psychologist, do. Pretty picture show and hotmail! Now, what was Lincoln privy to when he chose the symbol string "The Emancipation Proclamation"?

Are we getting it on today or will we be strumming our dicks tonight? "History will not forgive revolutionaries for procrastinating, if they could have been victorious today." - V.I.Lenin, to be uttered in the style of Edward Morbius in Forbidden Planet, as rendered by Walter Pigeon in the MGM classic. Why, now we can strut around like Polish chickens and improve on solitary meals eaten crassly out of tins of tuna fish. Actually, this passage is from memory, Great Lives Observed Series, Lenin, by edited Saul Silverman, purchased at the WSU bookstore as a paperback in the 1970s. In the past, if you asked where Lenin was, they carried out What is to be Done?, featuring a comically disagreeable portrait of Lenin on the cover. Earlier in history, I believe he was ruled out of the bookstore by General and President Eisenhower. As a consequence, our knowledge of historic 20th Century source materials was somewhat reduced in the public domain, though he might be stocked at a university library. He had unusual command of literary techniques, and could write a haunted book.

Here you have it... perhaps from the educational apparatus of a Krell Civilization. Kids get into most everything these days. Also see the old sci-fi classic: I Married a Monster from Outer Space.


Rooster Cogburn in Profile and Wide Brim Hat
Examined by Canadian Spirit on a Ski with a Wind Shield.

The ghost rider or fellow on skis seems to have "just dropped in to see what condition his condition was in." I think this is some kind of Canadian nationalist, coming through from above like the Devil in a Speedboat.

Do you recall Dr. Morbius addressing the men always as "gentlemen"? Of course, he addressed them as gentlemen because they had damn well better be, or things could go badly. I hope we can manage according to this insight, gentlemen. I am concerned about the neighbor that slipped in though its hole in the wall and burglarized my apartment at 3:30 AM last summer, penetrating my bedroom. He might have been an African terrorist, newly emigrated from a state or tribe systematically hostile to my sort, but I could not say for sure, because like the id monster that hounded Dr. Morbius in Forbidden Planet, I could not see him in the dark except as an invisible shade crashing through barriers. I thought I heard him whisper it under his breath. Perhaps I am mistaken. Fortunately, he was not as bad as the creature at the perimeter of the flying saucer. 911 could handle him fairly rapidly.


Big Bird picks crust near Medina, Rays Iraq-Crack

Above India, a Eurasian cloud figure watches and puts a hand down into India to pick Ceylon (Sri Lanka) for a guitar pick. The Iraq-Crack must be a jest about what a man picks. It reminds me of a joke my Father told me:
A new captain arrived wondering what to pick for the evenings entertainment. A sergeant said, "Well, there is always the camel, sir. So the captain went to the camel, stood atop a stool, and began to hump the camel. "Is this the way the men do it, sergeant?" "Oh, no sir, mainly they ride it over to the Oasis and employ the hookers."
It is best to provide complete and constructive guidance to newcomers. Otherwise men fall into traps and collide with stumbling blocks. See also the Saddam Hussein Picture Joke Slide Show.
See the USA Cloud Cover the day Saddam Hussein Surrendered.