A.G.E's Joint

  The mass of men lead  Lives of quiet desperation They rise in the morning Work or not Interact or not Complain it is The longest day They rage to the Lord Over a lot with no control Not knowing whether They matter or not He cares or not Assuming the best Fearing the worst And in when it is all over They look to the heavens For one last time Is it true or not Is it light or not It is not the worst It truly is the best.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic-Michele Marko King Pic Christine Wichman Pic Guesses: Bath time, Bubbly, I am the queen, wet, kitty cleans, relax

Marty comes into the office after a couple of days at Lake of the Fires. On his desk in a note from Beezelbub. He needs the 144-K numbers yesterday. It's nice to be wanted. He pulls the ash covered laptop and powers up...then sigs. 225 new messages, mostly spam. That's all it was good for these days. Everything truly business-related went to Slack or Skype. Quickly scanning the subject lines, he marks them for deletion ten at a time. He would have selected all, but the last time he did he missed a meeting invite disguised as a dating site. On his third set, one caught his attention" "It Could Have Been YOU!, highlighted in yellow"  Ooh. Clickbait. Probably some diamond level multilevel market guru on our payroll revealing the secret to wealth. Yeah, I'm already there. Not interested. He clicked the deletion box. It wouldn't stay clicked. Instead, a pop-up box said he must open it. Oh, great. Malware. I wonder how that got over the firewall.  It was going

 Hey, heidy and howdy! It's your old friend Harry Handy. You probably have wondered what the hell happened to me all these years. Well, it seems when you run an internet radio blog from the great beyond, you get in trouble with the corporate rights holders to the music. I've been silenced by the Borg. UMG music group took over WOFT.  But that's OK. Talk Radio is still good. I mean Stern has milked this format for years. And the political hacks... But I digress. I've missed all you Geritol guys and gals. Under the terms of my sent...er...settlement, I can't link music anymore. What's that you say? "Harry, what's the point of a radio blog if you can't play music?" It's a way to still stick to the man. This is do or die. What I am going to do is describe some of the things I wish I could link. Like the Finnish Rap Group "Cheers for Beers." It's a crappy four-channel animation with the typical theme of getting the girl in bed (pre

The assistant opened the door and waved me in. It was a small office. Hospital white walls glowed with sunlight. A black leather couch with plain, square arms sat along the far wall, The back was high enough to shade the incoming light from the window behind. Where the magic happens, I guess. A side chair was to my right, I guess that's where the doctor sits. At the last office, the chairs were facing each other. I wonder if there's coffee? My eyes feel like they are going to fall into my head Maybe if I lie down. No. Mom always said first impressions were important and I don't want to appear weak. I take a seat. To me, this was all a highway to nowhere. It isn't that I've lost my edge. Everyone else has. But something had to be done, I guess. Three jobs in three years because I didn't fit. The last firing turned ugly. The judge gave me the choice of this or jail. But it didn't mean he had to like it. T he first session at the hospital felt like a police in