A.G.E's Joint

Steeds graze contently, Watching us ride our race Switching saddles in the diaphanous light Filtering through leaves of gray Crossroads of beginning and end. Love is a temple, a higher law. Did I disappoint you? Bitter taste left in your mouth? Or is the halter pulling As I taste sweet hay? Nay, a stallion I am not. Just a plow horse furrowing the field Sometimes, I wish to share a yoke And a stall at vespers yield. You see far pastures greener Never more than a season, love Share my hay and hold my foal Let us receive the bounty from above. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Christine Wichman Pic- Dahlia Ramone Pic guesses: Steed (in blog), Plow (in blog), Saddle (in blog) race (in blog), gorgeous, mane, Stallion (in blog), happy Lyric paraphrase is from One.

Read this... Why It Is A Fools Game Then fold up your money and put it back in your wallet. You are now $2 ahead. Simple, right?

In a nondescript office outside Minneapolis.... Rrrrrrnggg! Good evening and thanks for choosing Devil’s Quill. My name is Nimrod. How may I help you? Your neighbor bought a new car and you are jealous? Yes, Sir, we have a number of petty revenge options, but may I ask why you are so upset about a car? Oh...I see. He invited your wife to ride, but not you...and you saw them get out a motel and you couldn’t resist looking in the window?... Acting like monkeys?... I see...I understand you are upset and want payback. But may I ask why you using our petty division and not one the stronger menus? Oh, the price. Yes, your immortal soul does sound rather dear. You are in luck, we have a name your price option for every one of our services. For example, we can raid their trysts with a gloomy conga of glum looking beauties , so ugly it will turn off the horniest of people... Then we have the “touch of grey” options that turns the couple old before their eyes. What’s that? you wan

What a field-day for the heat  A thousand people in the street  Singing songs and carrying signs  Mostly say, hooray for our side -Stephen Stills 1966 I didn’t think I would live to see history repeat itself, but here we are. In 1968, we had the Chicago Democratic Convention riots, where the protestors (my older brothers and sisters) exerting their disgust over perceived corruption of the democratic process, meeting a shielded blue line designed, hopefully, to protect those in power. Over time, those in power proved they did indeed have clay feet and fell to the scorn of all.   This past weekend we had the next generation of those protestors come up against the latest iteration of the White Power movement, who ironically are angry over what THEY perceive is the corruption of the democratic process. One had a temper like the other’s jealousy , producing confrontation as Thesis met Antithesis and reacted. One decided to go to war, taking twenty or so casualties. As the r

This Analysis breaks down the current missile situation well. Two rich boys showing off their boners and threatening to fuck the world without lube. Don't expect to cum before they do. I heard him referred to as Dolt .45 today. I can accept that. 

I was looking at the prompts this week and I thought about doing a WOFT segment, with Harry doing a Surf Music retrospective with the Ventures. But Christine Wichman , beat me to the punch. And really, there wasn’t anything Harry hadn’t covered before out there to work with. I briefly considered a Devil’s Quill bit, using the “devil’s music” to draw the suckers in, but that didn’t really fly, either. Then it occurred to me, Walk, Don’t Run perfectly sums up my fitness protocol. Due to a minor electrical/valve defect, I can’t run more than half a mile before my heart hits 200 beats per minute. But if I keep the speed to less than 4 mph (a good power walk pace), I can go all day long. And for us...uh, older...folks, it is much less stressful on the joints. Do I do this in a gym? No. Those are meet markets down the street, where the boys and girls watch each other eat, when they only want to watch each other sleep. I’d like my scenery to change as I go. Hence my hobby o

All legs, no chin Limp locks dripping on thin shoulders Gazing through the glass At the blue frock Trying faces Some of satin, some of steel Thin lips reflect her doubt Damp wings bent Out of the chrysalis Is she ready to fly? Not a person yet A stranger comes along Waiting to take her into the wildfire Of life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Diana Jillian Pic- Christine Wichman Pic guesses: Bent (in blog) Damp Wings (in blog) Earthbound Misfit, Fallen angel, Flightless, Chrysalis (in blog), Fly Away.