Friday, July 22, 2016

STAR WORKINGS AND A FRIEND NAMED COONIE 'THE BOY"

NEVERMIND...

TEXAS AND THE BORE OF IT ALL.


"Rivers run fluid making history, the very existence of gravity, based on God's Unholy Will to carve apart a beautiful landscape; showing power onto his tenets."



The work was slow, drudgery, if you will, too many steps forward with too many steps back. The FALSE ALARM IDEA had become NOT A DRILL. The Social dynamic has worked itself out of the cracks of marketing and regrouped and focused on a NEW PROGRAM of COMPLETE MIND FUCK. Snakey places once thought safe, reverted to paradises for creatures with purely blood brain thirsty kill zones. TARGET RICH ENVIRONMENTS is a common code name. REMEMBER. TARGETS HAVE CODE NAMES AND CALL SIGNS...NEVER FORGET.

As Nationalist take all Coasts the water turns red with the blood of the POOR FOLKS, the madness sweeps like Hell across a Midwestern field and the heat wave is very apparent. Coincidence? I do not bed, but i differ. Welcome to the BIG SCREEN, FRONT ROW, fuck the Bible, prophets and radio disc JOKEYS, when it rains... it pours. 

The political "system" in the United States of America is following the Justice System of the same territory. Money. Dig IT. 

IT'S RIGGED. 
FUCK. IT. 
WHO CARES. 
COUNT OUR DAYS.  
CREATIVE 'TYPES' WILL SHINE LIGHT ON THE DARK. 
STAY COOL. 
PLAY MUSIC. 
AND WHEN THE TIME COMES:
KEEP THIS SONG BY YER SIDE
AND
KILL EVERYTHING YOU SEE. 



...OFF THE DAMN ZOOM WITH A BUNCH OF LOONIES...


THE FUCKING THING WON't WORK, IT CAN'T SPELL IT'S OWN FUCKING NAME

 Just got off a ZOOM with the Democratic party headed off somewhere in Aspen, not sure if it was an Aspen branch, or if they have branches or what the fucking score is but I was on the damned fucking thing and It wasn't that bad. NOT BAD AT ALL. I joined somehow by a sent email, logged in with no video like a sneaking treacherous spy, even under a false name, a street name only publish twice in the local paper. 


<RAUL. KENNEDY> 
I presume, 

:TO THE LEADERS OR LEADERSHIP OF THE ASPEN CHAPTER OF WEAK AND CORRUPT DEMOCRATS - SNEEZING PROTO-CRATES, FOR SALE ASPEN TYPES AND THE FREE WILL OR DESTROY ACTION GROUP...(AND ANY OTHER LOOSE CHANGE GROUP I FORGOT TO MENTION)

GOOD AFTERNOON, 
What a wonderful surprise to have been so graciously invited to this undercover ZOOM Intel offering and bamboozle uplift charity parade, a basic cheaters circle unity homework copy session where I and 17 others and have YOU tell ME the WISHES of thyne divine party. I Wish to bring up a serious and curious issue of the present day.

Considering the TRUMPANZEESS are organized and working as a field recon unit building and placing false voter drop off boxes, would it be considered inappropriate, illegal, false reckoning, or outright distasteful to place signs stating 
OFFICIAL TRUMP VOTER BALLOT BOX 
and taping said flyers to all city of Aspen trash bins through the general metropolitan downtown area?

OFFICIAL 
TRUMP VOTER 
BALLOT BOX
X
X
X
X
X
X
XXXXXXX
XXXXX
XXXX
XX
X







OR 
vice versa with the arrow going the other way. 
Pointing ti the trash can



ALWAYS WITH THE THOUGHTS OF THE HIGH COMMAND I POLITELY ASK YER PERMISSION TO DO SO.
I'll do it either way,

ALWAYS YOURS IN BONDAGE, 
-THE WEATHERMAN- 

Thursday, July 14, 2016

THE NIGHTMARE IN TEXAS CONTINUES...PART 2 OF 2 MANY...HEY AMIGO!

Business advice poolside escalated into deafening slurs of agro chants while family's coward in the spotlights of hotel parking lots. Most days we would get back to our parking spot, 13 after leaving our rally position in the paddock garages also labeled with a 13. Garage 13 was a staging point for all things tables and chair related. Our neighbors were strange creatures loading in and out a variety of booty from queer shirts to soda, energy brain juice, water but mostly ice. This ice is like gold on any event battleground and we had full right on fuck you access. We ran a tight cooler at all times, a young buck should learn from the start a healthy stocked cooler with a wide variety of mix and EXTRA COLD BEER at the bottom is basically a sign of preparation and full on intent to be a winner. You let your cooler drag the pass soon enough your creatures will loose faith. I can't stress enough keeping a strong variety of mix and keeping the ice box within an arms reach.

The forward progression moved at a brisk mind melting pace paved by the highway of speed, No sleep and strong drink.  A pint turned turned to a fifth in no time,  arguments in the morning consolidation seemed to increase day by day.  A real hatred grows between humans when money is on the line, jobs are contracts and the beating your ass sun makes you slur your speak. I hated those moments and it nearly pushed me in. Creatures become monsters when drugs take hold, shaking vision and sweat pours from all creases of the body and brain, sickness of spirit consumes the days and time looks like a thin artifact baked in the sweltering heat.  Time was an idea. No matter how hard you could work, time would pass but always a feeling of hurried unfinished progress and a feeling of inadequacy. Blathering poolside of a job well done, or "WE ARE THE BEST" fell in as shadows from the truth. SPUN, SHOT OUT, DRUNK and TIRED were the actual headlines.

Tunnel vision confused me from night and day, the poolside arguments and meat jockeys haunted me in slumber and wake, tales of being handled by men into a company truck during a company party coursed through my veins like the 10 double Maker's Marks I gulped to take me further away. I can't recall a clear vision of that night, a thought of dumbness and wasted CORPORATE ESPN STOCK FALLING money kept running through my head and the idea that everyone here is a scum sucker. Those are bad thoughts on a strong whisky trip, especially Makers. The night turned against me with a whispering sucker punch, I assume; as you would me, the drink worked it's way into my being. Phone numbers made no sense and I kept thinking the Civil War was a joke and if it wasn't it sure as fuck was't dead yet. Austin Texas in my view, at that point in time, was a cumshot dripping down a painted cinder block wall. Pussy was obsolete because it might be considered "uncool" and if you saw some, you might as well ridicule, because you are a MAN. WITH A MOTOR CYCLE. JUST LIKE THE OTHER 20,000. MUTANTS FROM SOMEWHERE HELLS. Fashionable great smelling breeds on a 6 year stint, creeps not worth stabbing. I've seen jokers in my day. Magic show bikers and tearful tramps, but this was a new low. An entirely new category of, "yet undocumented scum."

I was in a bad brain.
I was engulfed in a swarm of Hipster Cannibals and personally I was hot from whiskey and all thee above. I vaguely remember  proclaiming my departure and possibly fighting in the parking lot outside the shit show. A great friend, Brother, and Allie....saved me from a spot in the Austin County Jail, we never discussed such details of this incident but the knots on my head serve as two things: I was drunk enough to bang my head around on ground or truck... or b.) I was rescued by a true friend out of a beat down, either way...I'm writing this now. We made it to the room and I woke up, still dreary from the night before with a sense of hiding from all other ESPN TYPES for the entire work day. I hate these days of regret and blackout drunk crime scene thoughts; every time you see a Sheriff you think "well, I guess that's me" Walking into staff services, a shit pit of weak NON LABOR TYPES, I overhear a conversation about last night's events, how "it ain't a party till you see people puking all over each other" One girl chummed in, "I couldn't drink anymore whiskey i was so drunk but I ordered two more doubles, I mean, when your so fucked your dumping whiskey down your shirt you should stop, but I didn't!!!!!! They had a 10,000 guarantee on the bar and that was met by 10:30...hahahh" I overheard this walking into the front doors looking for nothing, actually just patrolling. I kept think about Full Metal Jacket when the guy says " we're jolly green Giants roaming the Earth with Guns." That was my mentality and gift. I've, we've, 898, have done a few through tests of all limits. But that's the gig. Labor makes it happen then suit and tie dummies with girls with fresh faces and great smells with clean cloths and perfect teeth to match, GPA's with degrees; go home with STORIES. Well, fuck you. Shit don't happen by chance, and most images in word or picture aren't exactly clear as an un muddied lake, there is always a variable. And those variables are possibilities, possibilities to become efficient tracks of the landscape of OUR PRESENCE. To move quickly, without hesitation, is but ONLY our greatest compromise.

Monday, June 20, 2016

THE NIGHTMARE IN TEXAS...TESTING ALL THE LIMITS...HEY! AMIGO...

I'd had never been to Texas and you'll have to pay me more than my last check X2 to bring me back. Slow moving humid butthole of this great Republic we chant USA, or also called America, Texas has it's own right and backwards way of thinking. My first year working X Games Austin, I've been asked a few times years passed and quickly put the offer down, this year the timing and money was just right.  So the blast commenced. Imagine opening a storage container full of sexed up, speed up, muscle dummies with plenty of lube and giving them exspence accounts, hotels rooms, food, motorized vehicles, heavy machinery, paid for full bar dinner parties and radios with endless hours in the brain warping Texas heat and then eventually paying these creatures. Lord the BLAST WAS HOT! My self and two other creatures shared a room at one of those extended stay businesman Hotels near the airport, it was nice to say t he least but we spent most of our time drinking cold beer in the parking lot next to our company truck, sweating in the sun after a good 12 hour work day. The BIG DEALS were spread about the company, the thunderstorms and flash flooding didn't disappoint. Days later, dead bodies were found, TWO to be exactly on site. Helies came in flying sideways, as to look for pot operations when in fact, the search was for dead humans, Swept away on low roads, the same roads we traveled for work. The lonesomeness of Texas is the possibility of dying without a good story to tell. SAME AS ALWAYS. BIG DEAL. Some kid named "Joey" saw the bloated cursed fucker with eyes all over. " Drink a few tonight and wash away that memory Amigo, DRIVE IT IN!" His face was moved with eyes of death, ghosts in the TEXAN wash are hard to forget, probation for him had ended days before...his blast, all of a sudden turned Turbo.
 The weather turned Hot and crucifixion, wet brain waste was the  daily diet, heat swamp brain ruled the radio and no one had a plan, direction or a Superior became terms of a lost civilization or a lost language, echos bouncing off lost caverns of serious negotiation. "Contractual Obligation" were the sounds off lunch break arguments, "i eat my lunch in the truck because i like COLD BEER, and i don't think ESPN types would find my behavior acceptable, but ill compromise for the idea of avoiding a police escort......and by the fucking way, theres a reason i sit out here....I don't fucking like yous"
The heat, the lightning, the obstacle course of sheer and total dumbness was amusing but at the same time astounding. I've been surrounded by dangerous humans, so stupid ii pray at night they just drink the bleach, this encounter was perfectly on point. You have to figure in the time spent on site but on standby with creatures at the gills, with fury and provocation ready to invade any venue, country or crowd, bike rack ready to be bunked, site operations creatures...never hold on stand by. Comparable of the charging soldiers of WW1. "Copy...Traveling" The last words of a problem in helm. "We strike when the order is given...if you want to fuck about and waste the time of my company men, you'de better have keys and an unlocked fence....otherwise, i'll cut the lock open, the gate and rip the sign...our men are on stand by at all costs. GET YER SHIT TOGETHER, Radio MAN."
He tried to explain his lack  of coordination, we drank water out of our truck cooler and had moments of tense silence. When I called it and said fuck this and pulled away he motioned for a chat.
"Fair. What is  it now? Im the fucking delivery guy, some want to push as to say we are the set up guys, once again....no plan? NO HELP." Policy runs these situations and I must be one my way. No, fuck off."
Mark and I moved ass out the radio shithead land repeater site and gave a air conditioned FUCK YOU!"
The heat moved over our country asses as we were caught in a horrible nightmarish shitfuck contract orchestrated by the true faces of death, the pipers, the death angels on the top the tower holding heat against the will of workers, water couldn't put the flames out, the madness would never run out.



Wednesday, May 18, 2016

"IDEOLOGICAL QUARRELS OF A MASSIVE EXISTENCE."
-WHEN IN DOUBT, LET IT ALL OUT-


Reverb surrounded the walls
UFO JIM singing of MEXICAN UFO's 
I remember someone from my past muttering
"THERE AIN'T NO LEFT TURNS IN HEAVEN...
DALE. R.I.P"

Yeah. 
Well let's fucking find out.

Slow motion sickness gathers and dissipates all energy, consuming and spitting out a 20$ bill of life. Refugee status is out of the, the question? Meetings start and end, life extends it'self into a cheap version of something to do. THE RADIO AND+TV are at MAXIMUM VOLUME.
There's always a HOTEL BED SHOP IN THE WAITING. 

I've seen TRAMPS, BUMS, scum LORDS, TV TYPES, FALSE DR.'s and even pure EVIL. You walk a line that ain't so straight, YOU JUST MIGHT COME OUT SIDEWAYS. SEE YAS IN HELL!

Thursday, April 28, 2016

REASONABLE ACTION LISTINGS....PG. (9)

THE CULTURES OF DEATH...(CONTINUED)


GARY ROBERTS: 
continues: 
(speaking with a low approach)

"....I could smell the lunch he had while sitting in his Lincoln continental,
right over there,
 off east third street. 

He was MUSH, 
a shit river that had run dry, 
a cheap bag of fuck, 
a loser
 eventually a dead body.
no one i would have lunch with."

I drove a car once just to kill the fucking engine and then receive the gift of setting it on fire and walking to Memphis.
The Engine wouldn't blow.
and I had to keep on driving.

NO MORE TOTAL BUMMERS AND FUCK UPS>
REMEMBER
MORTARS ARE NOT FAR OFF
RAT WAR RAT WAR RAT WAR
 
1:18
RAUL KENNEDY
Aspen, Colorado.