Why the heck not?

Here is a reality unlike anything you have experienced!

Check this out!

Can the prayers be answered?

The story of my middle name Bernard! My dad had a best friend with same name. He survived the nazis with the help of a priest that kept him hidden. That’s good for me to remember.

The Polish people are famed as tough fighters. Just saying.

I’m a busy guy and that will unfortunately continue. Sadly I am going in a very productive direction. It is too late for me.

I was climbing the tree then went to the swing then woke up in an ambulance. It was being a kid living on a hill. Then there was a new bicycle, shiny blue with big handle bars. I would explore the town and count all the cats.

Strange blue boys bump in the night with grins and drool. Bump and grind and liquidate emotions. Crazed by the empty sky with no clouds in sight. They climbed the big hill of the old sacred. Looking back behind them as if seen only a big gaping sea. Crags at the edge like teeth. He gestured into the infinite.

Writing lesson: If your fingers have a mind of their own let them loose every so often. Smoke will rise from your finger nails. You will wonder at the clouds and perhaps hang a picture on the wall before it’s late. Nobody will know!

Ever was there a yes so big and sure of foot. Ever to greet her with a sad smile outside a fancy rectangle. A small meatloaf was prepared with an eye for me. It was done in the afternoon sun for the conception. The infant has no eyes and a big screaming mouth. It was an albino with four arms. This is how the story started..

Hectic winds and pomegranate delights blow. I am shot down roads of newness and rapidly collect. Then the wind stops and life slows to a pile of pomegranates. I assume my wish is granted. The road itself buried under sand and new lands seem to be mirages.

When all is demolished I find a ham sandwich flying like a bird. It is odd to see who is better than whom! If it is me vs flying ham sandwich I win! Best man ever! Me! I can’t wait to be crowned king, this will make me big! Then there is more to win! Let the contestants get ready for the new game!

Yet again.

This is a blog, don’t forget that is what it is.

Setting: Inside a dark, echoing bathroom plumbing line, right before a major flushing event.Urine: (Splashing aggressively against the ceramic walls) Look at you, slacking off as usual! I’m in and out of here six times a day, keeping this body filtered and clean. You show up once—maybe twice if the human had a fiber bar—and expect a standing ovation. You're slow, you're heavy, and you take forever to get ready!Poop: (Thudding heavily into the water, sending up a massive splash) Slow? It’s called craftsmanship, you watery amateur! You’re just 95% water and a little bit of leftover urea. You require zero effort. I am the grand finale of a 24-hour digestive masterpiece! I represent the steak, the potatoes, the complex carbohydrates! I have structure. I have presence.Urine: Presence? You mean odor! You completely ruin the atmosphere the second you walk into the room. People have to light matches and turn on exhaust fans just to survive your presence. When I arrive, it’s a quick, polite zip and a wash of the hands. I am civilized.Poop: Oh, don't act so pure. You turn bright neon yellow if the human takes a single multivitamin! And let's talk about urgency—you make the human panic and run like a maniac just because a movie ran over two hours. I have discipline. I give a polite, rumbling warning hours in advance.Urine: (Steaming slightly) I am the frontline defense of the kidneys! Without me, the system shuts down from toxic buildup in days. You're just the stuff the body couldn't even use. You're literally the leftovers!Poop: Leftovers? I am the ultimate metric of gut health! Doctors study my shape, my color, and my consistency on a chart like it's fine art. No one is out here making a "Bristol Stool Chart" for your boring splash patterns.The Toilet Handle: (CLANK)Urine: (Swirling rapidly in circles) Uh oh. Here comes the swirl!Poop: (Sinking into the vortex) See you in the septic tank, water-boy!