If they came so far to get here… and if truly they are here… they need money. They want money. I don’t care if they appear to be French poodles… I don’t want to owe the poodles any money.
KlausFebruary 21, 2021, 6:52 PM
Hell I agree….I can’t afford to owe the poodles any money!
Naive to think we are the only biological in these vast universes. Last summer, I glimpsed one, our group was all rafted up on the lake, next to a feature called Buck Island. An evening of much booze, food, and sex. At three am, I was peeling off the top of the houseboat.
As I watched a viewed an odd colored light, maybe a foot or two off the water, race past. Covered twenty miles in seconds. Na had to be the Don Julio. Those things don’t exist, just ask your govt.
Mentioned the encounter over breakfast, one of the wives on the other side of the boat raft admitted she’s seen it too. Two quick shots, a dip in the lake, those silly observations were out the door.
UFO’s, ghosts, the Loch Ness monster, Bigfoot, et al.
Whether we really do believe this stuff is neither here, nor there. We all secretly want these things to be real, though. Given the choice, who would say, “I don’t want to see one.”?
After scanning its face again and again,
I began to scale it, picking my holds
With intense caution. About half-way
To the top, I was suddenly brought to
A dead stop, with arms outspread
Clinging close to the face of the rock
Unable to move hand or foot
Either up or down. My doom
Appeared fixed. I MUST fall.
There would be a moment of
Bewilderment, and then,
A lifeless rumble down the cliff
To the glacier below.
My mind seemed to fill with a
Stifling smoke. This terrible eclipse
Lasted only a moment, when life blazed
Forth again with preternatural clearness.
I seemed suddenly to become possessed
Of a new sense. My trembling muscles
Became firm again, every rift and flaw in
The rock was seen as through a microscope,
My limbs moved with a positiveness and precision
With which I seemed to have
Nothing at all to do.
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
I accept the existence of saucers,
![That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/welcometohell-150x150.jpg "That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]")
![Allen Ginsberg: The Interview, <strong> ➡ 1972 ⬅ </strong> [Republished by unpopular demand]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/ginsbergnirvana-150x150.jpg "Allen Ginsberg: The Interview, <strong> ➡ 1972 ⬅ </strong> [Republished by unpopular demand]")
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& our next stop, zeltches and gentlezeltches, is the curious and quaint planet earth.
Please do not feed the animals.
Because they are lost and not too proud to stop and ask directions
They come for the American Digest posts… like the fabulous, wonderful story of the fortress in Paradise. Nothing like it on their home planets.
Somebody say “saucers”? . . . : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwNVbT3zH_k
If they came so far to get here… and if truly they are here… they need money. They want money. I don’t care if they appear to be French poodles… I don’t want to owe the poodles any money.
Hell I agree….I can’t afford to owe the poodles any money!
The poodle bites…. the poodle chews it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExyWdbdmkCQ
Naive to think we are the only biological in these vast universes. Last summer, I glimpsed one, our group was all rafted up on the lake, next to a feature called Buck Island. An evening of much booze, food, and sex. At three am, I was peeling off the top of the houseboat.
As I watched a viewed an odd colored light, maybe a foot or two off the water, race past. Covered twenty miles in seconds. Na had to be the Don Julio. Those things don’t exist, just ask your govt.
Mentioned the encounter over breakfast, one of the wives on the other side of the boat raft admitted she’s seen it too. Two quick shots, a dip in the lake, those silly observations were out the door.
I Believe!.
VI
What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?
UFO’s, ghosts, the Loch Ness monster, Bigfoot, et al.
Whether we really do believe this stuff is neither here, nor there. We all secretly want these things to be real, though. Given the choice, who would say, “I don’t want to see one.”?
JWM