Category Archives: Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny

Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny

Episode 5: Plastered In Paris, can be therapeutically calming.

Sitting in a seedy bar in downtown Paris, Hily was dressed in a college graduate robe and mortarboard (hat) smoking a cigarette and drinking vodka and tonic. Her mascara was thick and running slightly at the corner of her both eyes, with her blush over-applied, camouflaging here excessive pancake makeup that hid her wrinkles and most recently added worry lines  from the stress induced from shock therapy that accompanied her frequent visits to the mental hospital after the election. One cigarette after another she lit and choked down, following large gulps of vodka and tonic. A young man was sitting at the bar who was frequently looking at Hily between sips of his beer. Hily, although engulfed in her gulps of vodka and cigarettes, noticed the young man looking at her. “Why don’t you take a picture sweetie? It could last longer.” said Hily taking another drag from her smoke. “I do apologise, but you do resemble that woman that was on the TV frequently not so long ago. I was intrigued.” said the young Frenchman with an accent. “Well, don’t be shy, come over and sit with me and we can chat, honey.” said Hily as she pushed a chair out with her black high heeled boot, inviting the young Frenchman to her table. “Thank you madam.” said the young Frenchman as he grabbed his beer and walked to sit down beside Hily at her table. “Call me Hily, handsome!” said Hily in a sexy tone, sensuously taking another drag from her smoke.  The young Frenchman sat down and smiled, as he placed his beer on the table. “So what is your name baby?” asked Hily trying to appear sexy. “Call me Pierre, Hily. I am from this area and would love to show you around. You seem to be alone. Is that intentional?” asked Pierre eyeing Hily up and down. “I am a big girl Pierre, don’t worry about me. I am just taking a break from my life right now and need some action. Do you have any thing stronger then this turpentine I have been drinking?” said Hily as she finished the last gulp of her drink. “That could be arranged, but I would need something in exchange, like money or, well something in equivalence perhaps?” said Pierre coveting Hily’s older but enticing form. “Oh Pierre, what would I have to do? As if I did not know!” said Hily sarcastically. “Well, for one session with you, a man would pay, perhaps, 800 euros? I could get you at least 4 to five sessions each evening. The night is young. Perhaps 3 this evening?” said Pierre now rubbing Hily’s plump but curvy thigh. “Don’t I get a session with you first? You do not want to test the goods Pierre?” said Hily winking allowing Pierre’s advances and groping. “There will be plenty of time for that Hily. I will give some morphine when we get to the room I can arrange for you. You just have to wait there and I will bring the clients to you. Is it an arrangement?” said Pierre in his well rehearsed tone and manner. “Like I am the whore and you are the pimp, right?” said Hily being thoroughly street wise from Billy’s and Donny’s influences in her life. “I prefer to call myself a “procurer of fine women”. I only deal with classy femmes” said Pierre, now with his hand up Hily’s college robe, slithering around here inner thighs and vaginal area. “Ok, Pierre, I will do it, but I better see the smack first, or I walk. Got it?” said Hily with authority. “Good, good, Hily, I will show you to your room. You can order anything from there using the phone. ” said Pierre now standing up helping Hily from her seat. They both walked out of the small bar arm in arm, with Pierre’s hand on Hily’s buttocks.

Meanwhile, back in the United States, in the Whitehouse, Donny was sitting at the head of the strategic boardroom table, with his pertinent Whitehouse staff sitting around the table. “Mr. President, we really must get into the budget for the proposed wall on the Mexican border.” said Donny’s Chief of staff. “I told you all before, I said mall, not wall. It is not my fault that my double can’t read. A mall would of brought commerce from both sides, as well being a major tourist attraction, and girl magnet. We all know how much money women are responsible for spending while shopping. We could make fortune and staff it up with all Mexican labour and under pay them legally. That way they would have no reason to illegally cross the border. They can all work at the border.” said Donny fidgeting with his pen, drawing breasts on his note pad. “But that is not even feasible financially. We can barely afford to build the wall, let alone a mall that would stretch across the vast area of the Mexican/US border? Are you serious? You said wall not mall.” said the Vice President. “Hey Mikey, step back to your place bozo. I am in control.  You think I would want to build a fascist wall? What, are we Communists now? Is Fidel at this meeting? Come on people. If you were on my TV program “The Apprentice” you would be all fired. Now, lets get to work on the mall. not wall! And that is an executive order!” said Donny storming out of the boardroom as his entire staff sat there in confusion.

A bit later in the Whitehouse master bedroom, Mel was dressing and applying makeup. Donny was laying on the bed all wired up after taking a hit, something he was trying to hide from Mel. “Come on Donny, sober up. I really do not want to have to go to another theater with your stupid double. Can you get ready to go at least? said Mel applying some eyeliner at her vanity. “Why can’t we go to see a concert? Bruce Springsteen is in town. Lets go have some fun and party!” said Donny flicking through the channels on the TV with the remote. “Grow up Donny. We are both above all that right now. You are the President and I am the First Lady. We cannot go to a rock concert. Are you kidding? We could see a classical concert. There is one playing. Want to go?” asked Mel in a snobbish tone. “Not really. Hey, why not we fool around tonight, right here and order a pizza? We can get hot and heavy baby!” said Donny looking with hope and enthusiasm while coveting Mel’s impeccable female silhouette. “Not tonight dear, I have my period.” said Mel in an untruthful tone. “I will be right back honey. I am going for some smokes.” said Donny jumping off the bed and quickly leaving the room, closing the door. “Don’t you dare Donny you jerk! Not again!” said Mel in a Slavic accent she was camouflaging but sneaks out every once in a while when she gets mad. Not getting a response, she dialed her cell phone. “Yes, please get Donny’s double on alert. He may have to escort me to the theater tonight. Yes, thank you.” said Mel speaking into her cell phone, admiring her face in the vanity.

Knowing the secret tunnels well under the Whitehouse, Donny had no problem coming and going without being noticed. He got to a nearby street and flagged a Taxi down. “Take me to your nearest bar.” said Donny dialing his cell phone. “Hey Just! you wanna pick me up in your private Jet? Can you get away from ball and chain?  Lets party dude. I will wait for you at the international airport. Cool dude. And bring some tight ass Canadian girls with you! Alright! See you soon!” said Donny as his mood picked up now having someone to party with. “Drive to the airport instead Haboob!” said Donny lighting a smoke. “Yes sir, you give big tip, yes” said Haboob. “Of course! who do you think I am, George Jr? said Donny chuckling. “No sir, but he was very cheap, yes, very cheap.” said Haboob changing his route to go to the airport.

To be continued. Or censored. Which ever comes first.

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2017

Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny

Episode 4: I won the Election? Are you still my Bitch? Honey?

Still holed up in the Seedy Motor Inn, Donny and Trixie were laying half dressed on the left most bed, closest to the bathroom, after finishing another hit. A trail of used and broken fits were all over the floor, leading everywhere, in multi logarithmic paths, in the messy, unmaintained room. Outside, the maid was knocking loudly. “We have to get into this room to clean. It has not been cleaned for weeks. We need to clean.” said the woman with a Spanish accent pounding harder. After a few minutes, the pounding stopped and the maid pushed her cart to the next room, opened the door and went in to clean. “You know Trixie, you are not much of a house keeper.” slurred Donny from being totally inebriated from his close to diminished stash. Donny and Trixie just continued to lay there, bursting out in laughter. “You are going to have to go to work tonight Trixie. We need some money baby.” continued Donny laying there debauched and totally spaced.  On the small cathode ray tube TV set, images of Donny’s double in the news media flashed away with the volume of the set very low. Donny’s cell phone , on the night stand, displayed 398 missed calls and 321 pending messages. As Trixie continued to lay there on the bed with her black bra pulled down, exposing her large silicone  enhanced breasts, and black panties, Donny got up, grabbed his stash and went into the bathroom, starting the shower as he closed the door. “Honey, how come you just like oral sex? You haven’t even touched my pu….” said Trixie being interrupted from a loud pounding on the door.

Trixie, being startled, sat up quickly and pulled up her bra and grabbed her top, now standing up. “Go away! We will put the sign on the door when we need the room cleaned! Go away!” said Trixie in a trashy Hollywood styled accent, putting on her trashy, tight black top that barely squeezed over her oversized silicon enhanced breasts. “Pizza! You ordered a pizza, pepperoni and anchovies.” said the voice outside the door that sounded muffled and purposely disguised.  “Pizza? Did you order a pizza Donny?” yelled Trixie, not getting no response from Donny in the shower. Seeing some money on the dresser, she grabbed it and stuffed it into her over-stretched black bra and went towards the door. Opening the door with the chain lock still on she seen a person standing with a baseball cap and red shirt holding a pizza box. “Hold on boy.” said Trixie as she closed the door to release the chain lock, then opening the door. Suddenly, with a rage, the pizza carrier lunged forward and grabbed Trixie by her bleach blond hair, bent her down and kneed her hard in the diaphragm area of the stomach. Trixie immediately fell backward onto the fit covered floor, choking and gasping for breath. The pizza carrier slammed the door shut and kicked Trixie one more time, square in her face, causing her nose to bleed porously. Trixie still gasping for air held on to her nose, now choking and gasping on blood and the limited air intake caused by the swift knee into her hard-bodied gut. “The pizza carrier, removed the baseball cap, releasing semi-long blond hair, revealing that it was Hily. “Who the hell are you, you sleazy bimbo?” shrieked Hily as she kicked Trixie in the stomach again. Hily was dressed in odd cloths, that appeared to be robbed from a real pizza carrier, still having the mental hospital bracelet on her wrist. The cap’s logo laying on the floor read “Hugio’s Pizza Pie”.

The bathroom door opened and Donny came out dressed in a towel around his waist and another wrapped around his head. He noticed Hily standing over Trixie who was groaning and moaning in pain. “Hey honey, careful, she has to work tonight. We are out of money.” said Donny helping Trixie up. “Go on and clean up baby.” said Donny leading Trixie to the washroom door. Trixie once in the washroom, slammed the door. “So I see you have a new whore to play with. I thought we had an understanding. You leave me and then hole up with this sleaze bag? When you could of come and got me? Leaving me to rot in a mental institution?” yelled Hily very upset and distraught, not to mention being doped on several Demerol pills and other tranquilizers. “You know you are my number one baby!” I had no idea where you were. I was told if I came back to your campaign headquarters, they would have me arrested. So I got the hell out of there. You could of called me baby.” said Donny lying through his teeth. “So you pick up the first trollop you see and bring her here? The first place we went together? You didn’t think I would find you, slime bag?” said Hily severely pissed off. “Baby! Please forgive me? I will make it up to you! I will get another stash and we can return to my apartment in Rome. It will be like old times babe.” said Donny trying to calm Hily. “No way! We had an agreement! Who ever won the election would allow the other access to the corridor of power. You won so you owe me big time. Especially after this drugged out sexual fiasco. I have pictures of that tramp and the condition of this hell hole and you in that pathetic towel. All on my phone. So you better honor your agreement or CNN will get all of them!” said Hily waving her phone with the picture thumbnails. “Please baby! I will do anything you ask. I will honor my part of the bargain. I will get you a prime position in Washington.” said Donny acting desperate. “And don’t think Mel would not get copies of these pictures! That way she will know exactly what kind of sexist pig chauvinist you really are! The first thing you are going to do is unload that tart in the bathroom! Then you are going to get me out of that funny farm for good!” warned Hily still waving her phone with the pics. “Yes baby, anything baby! I will be good baby!” said Donny as he finished dressing and putting his stash and other personal effects in his bag. “Lets go then!” commanded Hily opening the door. “Yes ma’am!” said Donny somberly as he followed Hily out the door, towards his car where they both got in and drove off out of the motor inn’s parking lot. Minutes later, several cop cars pulled into the motor inn’s parking lot. They all got out and several of the police stood poised pointing their weapons. Four police officers with bullet proof vests and guns went strategically towards the door.  One of the police tested the door and seen it was ajar, kicked it opened, and the four police ran into the room yelling, “Freeze!” Trixie who was mostly dressed minus her tight black top, raised her arms up holding her top with her left hand. Two of the cops rushed over to Trixie, subdued her, handcuffed her then dragged her out of the room kicking and screaming. “Get your hands off me you slimy pigs!” shrieked Trixie as the two police opened the rear door of their cruiser and pushed her into the backseat, closing the door swiftly. With the cop car that contained Trixie in the backseat leading the way, the rest of the cop cars followed with full lights and sirens a blazing.

To be continued? I hope not…

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2016

Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny, The Election?

Episode 3: Homeo and Drooliette

Hily, in her campaign head quarters private office suite, was sitting at the vanity applying makeup, this time more conservatively, but with same amount of face makeup to give the appearance of youthfulness. Carefully she applied her eye makeup in order not to look too slutty. Suddenly she heard a crack, like something hitting the window in her office area of the suite. She shrugged it off and continued with her makeup. Again, she heard the same sharp snap, now evident coming from the office window. She got up and walked towards the window. She carefully peered out the window that was 2 stories up from the rear parking lot of the building. There she saw Donny about to throw another rock. Being in the early evening, it was getting a bit dusk and Hilly opened the slider portion of the window and whispered loudly at Donny before he threw the 3rd rock. Lowering his arm, he saw Hily looking down at him. “What are you doing Donny, why are you here? If they see us together, it will be scandalous!” whispered Hily frantically. “I had too see you baby! I don’t care if they see me, I just have to see my honey! They can’t keep us apart forever! Besides, I brought some good grade stuff babe!” said Donny as he bated Hily waving the baggy of powdered morphine. “Com on up sweetie!” said Hily excitedly. Donny then bent down and grabbed a grappling hook and rope. “Step back baby!” said Donny as he swung the grappling hook back and forth in preparation to throw. Hilly back up out of the way. As soon as she ran out of room backing up, the hook intended for the opened part of the window, crashed through the closed part of the window and hooked firmly to the ledge. Moments later, Donny came up scaling the wall and crawled into the office. “Oh baby, I am so glad you came! Lets do this in the bathroom!” said an exhilarated Hily as she went towards the bathroom. Donny followed her in, pinching her buttocks. Oh baby I missed those!” said Donny with a perverted grin. Both of them readied themselves for the injections. Donny started to liquefy the morphine, filled the syringes and handed one to Hily. In unison, they both hit their respective veins together and enjoyed the rush, both sinking to the floor next to each other. After a while, they were both in the bath tub, soaking in a bubble bath, injecting more hits to their respective veins. Then, suddenly, a loud pounding on the door was evident. “Are you in their Hily, what are you doing, and why is the window smashed! Who is in there with you!” yelled Hily’s Campaign and PR manager. “Man, that bitch is relentless!” said Donny, massaging Hily’s exposed breasts. “Go away, get a life!” yelled back Hily to her campaign and PR manager. After a brief moment of silence, large bangs against the bathroom door echoed in the bathroom as the agents outside were using a battering ram to knock down the door….

The solid oak door tumbled over as the hinge screws popped out of hinge jam. Quickly the agents pulled the door out of the bathroom and leaned it against the office wall. “Ok boys, grab her out of there, and get her sobered up and dressed!” commanded Hily’s campaign and PR manager.  The agents quickly grabbed her out of the tub as she started to kick and scream. They restrained her, threw a blanket around her and dragged her out of the office suite, followed by a couple of female agents with her clothes and makeup.  Hily’s campaign and PR manager looked down at Donny still sitting in the tub. “You can leave the same way you came in! If we see you anywhere in this building, we will have arrested and sent to jail, making sure every news team is outside with cameras to take shots and films for CNN! And don’t forget your smack!” scowled Hily’s campaign and PR manager as she  turned away and walked out of the office suite, slamming the door. Donny laid there a while. Finally he got up, dressed, collected his paraphernalia and morphine, went to the window with the grappling hook still secure and climbed back down to the parking lot. Leaving the grappling hook and rope behind, he went to his car, jumped in and drove away.

Meanwhile, back at Donny’s campaign head quarters, Donny’s campaign and PR manager was pacing back and forth looking at his Rolex. “Where the hell is that guy? He is about to win the election and he is no where to be found.” said Donny’s campaign and PR manager looking at his female assistant. “Don’t worry. We have his double, and if he wins, he can read from the cues. Besides, that idiot never has anything intelligent to say. So if he does not show up and wins, we can make sure he says a flawless, intelligent victory speech! No one would be the wiser!” said Donny’s campaign and PR manager’s female assistant. Driving down the road, not sure where he was going, Donny turned off on the freeway exit into the downtown area. He kept driving until he seen some hookers. Seeing one that he liked, he pulled over and let her in. “The hooker jumped into the car and Donny drove off again. “So what are you looking for sugar?” said the bleach blond hooker dressed in and very short and tight mini skirt, and a blouse leaving nothing to the imagination. “Hey baby, how would like to work for me? I will make sure you make lots of money baby!” said Donny with a dirty grin. “Hey, I work for myself! I don’t need a pimp, if that is what you are?” said the bleach blond hooker looking at Donny sarcastically. “Hey baby, if you work for me, I will make sure you are always well medicated.” said Donny tauntingly waving the bag of morphine in front of bleach blond hooker’s face. “Oh sweetie, you can be my master anytime!” said the bleach blond hooker as she tried to grab the bag of morphine from Donny. “Not so fast baby! First you have to prove your worth to me, then you can have all you want!” said Donny as he pulled into a seedy motor inn. “You got it sweetie! I am your slave!” said the bleach blond hooker as the both climbed out the car to head towards the motor inn office.

In side the motor inn office, as Donny filled out the check-in card and paid the innkeeper, on the flat screen TV, CNN showed the results of the election, declaring Donny as the winner. As the CNN clip zoomed into Donny’s double reading his victory speech, the innkeeper handed Donny the key to his suite. Donny escorted the bleach blond hooker out the door towards the room. “What is your name baby?” asked Donny grabbing the hookers buttocks. “Trixie sweetie!” said the bleach blond hooker as they approached the room. The next day, Hily was in restraints, with her hair all about and mascara smudging and running down her face, in a wheelchair being pushed by her campaign and PR manager. “Where is Donny? Did I win the election? Are we going to my victory party? Where are we driving to?” said Hily confused and medicated with excessive Demerol for sedation purposes. “Don’t worry Hily, everything is going to be alright.” consoled Hily’s campaign and PR manager. “I will take her from here.” said the psych ward nurse as she took control of the wheelchair and wheeled her into a private psych ward room. Hily’s campaign and PR manger look over at the psych ward doctor. “Don’t worry, she will get the best of care. She is in a bit of trauma from the stress due to the election. She is heavily medicated so will not make any sense until she is sober.  They used the Demerol to keep her manageable, because of her violent outbursts at the campaign headquarters. I will keep you posted to her progress after detox.” said the psych ward doctor writing on his clip board. “Thank you doctor.” said Hily’s campaign and PR manager as she turned and walk towards the elevator.

Inside Hily’s psych room, the nurse released Hily’s restraints and Hily stood up and walked towards the large shatter proof window. The room was mostly sterol white and pleasantly, but safely decorated. As Hily looked out the large shatter proof window, through her mascara drenched eyes she started to sing. “Somewhere, over the rainbow.” Hily then looked down frantically in the front of the large ominous psych building in all directions. “Homeo, Homeo! Where art thou Homeo? It is me, your love Drooliette, waiting for you my lost love.” said a distraught Hily as she started to pound on the shatter proof glass, shrieking. “Homeo! Homeo!” As Hily continued to pound, two psych ward attendants in white uniforms restrained Hily’s arms as the psych ward nurse injected a dose of more sedation into her upper arm. Slowly and surely, Hily sank down like a limp rag doll as the attendants dragged her to the bed, strapping her down while the nurse covered her with a quilt. The attendants left the room, followed by the nurse as she switched the lights out and closed the self-locking door.

To be continued? May be…

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2016

Going Gaga over Nada, The Whimsically Departed

Catholicon for Voracity? More!

Money holders, banks, employers, financial providers, the rich, greedy, opulent, debt pushers, credit mongers, interest dealers, land grabbers, carpet baggers, municipal monopolisers, opportunists, capitalizers. capitalists, venture capitalists, prosperity stealers, “patent, intellectual, artistic, literature  plagiarizers”,  slave drivers, investment capitalists, pension robbers, “below the minimum wage enthusiasts”,  prosperity stealers, land grabbers, property hijackers, business pirates, conglomerations,  incorporations, corporations, franchises, “Lets bring in fruit pickers from foreign countries on temporary Work Visas to work for half of minimum wage, conniving farm and food corporations”,  “Lets pay so called refugees $2500.00 to $3000.00 per month (which well exceeds the North American’s old age pensions that may amount to $1800.00 per month if you work to 65 or 67 years of age) to move to Canada because the cold weather of Canada outweighed the fictitious CIA generated danger from CIA developed terrorist groups (ISIS) and implanted surrogates created solely for North American’s brainwashing, and the prosperity monopolization of Syria and other selected countries, in the way of the oil pipelines to Saudi Arabia.”, government migration ministries, culturist groups and associations. In other words, the 1 percenters and all their world wide buddies, wanabes, slaves, and slave masters, agencies, mercenaries, and international law enforcers.”

Excise Levy Conformed for the Prosperity of the Extralocal

Any one that would dispute this is conned by the government that everything is “A” ok and they are spending your tax dollars in a humane mannerism. It is our turn to toil and suffer even more now to make way for these, already wealthy and/or educated refugees so they can be implanted in our jobs and steal our birthright to our country’s prosperity. This is nothing new. It has happened time after time. But this time  it has exceeded sane levels of restraint and reason. I have no problem with any culture but if I have to work for them now because the government has decided to give them my prosperity, I believe that it is antagonistically purpose minded to divide the cultures and people even more to lasso more control over an awakening public that know something is not right with our political systems when they offer our prosperity to our neighbors. Personally, I do not care who they give the money to but it is a clear signal that the political systems in North America are missing a couple of marbles and are not fit to run our countries. The US, now with 2 equivocal candidates that in either event, will destroy the county, blitzing any freedoms and rights we have left.

Prime Evils

It is the election of the 2 evils. It is actually being called that. Vote for the lesser of the 2 evils. Pretty lame. I say vote for “none of the above”. Or a no confidence vote. The only solution to ensure that by some miracle, somebody competent may take the throne. But the choice is clear. Vote for a chauvinist pimp, or a money grubbing whore. Wow, what a choice. I feel sorry for the US citizens that will be standing in the voting booth, scratching their heads, wondering what candidate would produce the lesser evil. Back and forth with negative political ads about the other candidate, like two school yards brats, calling each other names during recess. I think men and women are on level terms. There will always be debate who is smarter or more capable, but in a sense, this battle is done. This campaign is just a revive of an old argument designed to further create more divorce, separatism, alcoholism, substance abuse and the dismantling of the family unit. But, while the 1 percenters live in their  million dollar homes, acting like they are above it all, floating on a white cloud of saintly hood, they watch and laugh, looking down as they witness the humility of the masses they created and are maintaining by endorsing no hope to prosper, or progress as a family unit. I would like to say the 1 percenters are headed for hell, but I think they would be rejected because of their boorish snobbism, causing extreme boredom, only to be enthralled and doomed to a eternity of neutralism (purgatory).

Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny                                                                                   Episode 2: Terms of Procurement

Hily, standing on a street corner in downtown Rome, under a dank street lamp, illuminating her form in a shadowy, dimming effect, giving off an illusion of attractiveness, dressed in a short, black, stretchy miniskirt, black fishnet stockings, black pumps with chrome pointed heels, and a long black, bulky sweater that disguised her actual figure. Heavy mascara, blue eyeshadow and ruby red lipstick excessively enhanced her eyes and lips, with thick face makeup camouflaging her age and wrinkles. Hily just finishing a cigarette, tosses it lit, into the corner sewer. A black car pulls up, Hily jumps in, and the car drives off. 15 minutes later, the same car pulls up to the same, dank street lamp, and Hily exits the car, standing there again while lighting another cigarette. Hily tosses her lit cigarette into the corner sewer as another car pulls up. Hily gets into the car and it drives off. Hily gets dropped off and picked up again by various cars during the course of the evening. After the last car drops her off at the same, dank street lamp, Hily starts walking down the sidewalk counting a wad of Euros, then placing the wad into her ruby red purse.

Meanwhile back in a small apartment not far away, Donny was sitting in a faded arm chair recliner, with his left arm exposed, tied off above the elbow with a rubber surgical tube, tapping his vein in his forearm. With the vein popping up under his skin, with several track marks evident, he inserted a needle of a fit in a non-collapsed portion of the vein, filled with liquefied morphine. Injecting the morphine and releasing the rubber surgical tube from his teeth, he sits back and rubbed his forearm as he enjoyed the initial rush of the injection. Just then the front door opened, and Hily entered and threw her purse on the coffee table. Hily looked at the inebriated Donny sitting back, now totally spaced. “Did you save some for me Donny?” asked an anxious Hilly as she kicked off her pumps and sat on the couch next to Donny occupying the arm chair. Donny looks up, with a stony glance, at Hily. “There is some still in the fit baby.” said Donny enjoying his high. Hily grabbed the rubber surgical tube, tied off above her ankle, grabbed the readied fit and injected the morphine between her large and middle toes. With a wince and sigh of pleasure, she released the rubber surgical tube from her teeth, sat back, and enjoyed the exhilarating rush. After a few moments, Hily looked at Donny, now a little more alert. “Did you make some money for me tonight baby?” said Donny in a nice but commanding tone. “Oh yes, Donny. I made 700 Euro. Are you proud of me honey?” asked Hily seeking approval. “Yes baby, you did fine. Give it here!” said Donny holding out his hand. Hily gave him the Euros without hesitation. “Good girl. I will not have to spank you tonight.” slurred Donny looking at her legs. “You can if you want to babe. You know I like your discipline!” said Hily as she got up and walked into the bathroom.

“May be later baby. I have to make sure my other girls are working first.” said Donny with a ghoulish grin. “Ok Donny! Just don’t use our bed for that, ok?” said Hily from the bathroom pulling out another wad of Euros from her bra. “You know that is our sacred place baby. I would never do another woman on our bed.” said Donny getting up then coming into the bathroom behind Hily. By that time Hily stashed the extra wad of Euros in her panties. He grabbed her breasts and started massaging them. “You know what I want baby.” said Donny in a low tone. Hily turned around, pulled her top down exposing her breasts, dropped to her knees…but suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. Hily stood up and pulled her top back to normal. They both walked into the living room. By that time, several FBI agents swamped the area and started to grab and place all the drugs and paraphernalia into bags for quick disposal. A woman in plain clothes walked up to Hily. “Come on Hily, we got to get you cleaned up. The election is only 2 weeks away, and you are a mess. You cannot be caught living with him. Are you nuts Hily?” said Hily’s PR and campaign manager. “I love him, get it?” said Hily in an adolescent tone. “You are coming with me whether you like it or not! You will have plenty of time after the election. Ok people, get her back to the States ASAP!” commanded Hily’s PR and campaign manager. “Yes mother!” said Hily in a defiant tone as the FBI agents covered her with a robe and carted her off out of the apartment down to a van parked on the street. From there the van departed towards the international airport. Back in the apartment, Donny was standing their alone. “I guess I better call my campaign manager to come and get me too.” said Donny picking up the phone and dialing the number…

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2016

Presidium Rat Race Residuum, the Abeyance of the Plebeian, Animus Against Anima

Kiss My Royal Sash

People with wealth and power see the commonalty as low, beastly, uneducated and useless, unless they can perform remedial acts of servitude and abjection. They see us as their slaves. Monetarily chained to their purse strings, and fearful of destitution and vagabondage. But it is nothing to fear. We have nothing to fear turning away from their enslavement of honorarium. It is something everyone can do but are afraid of it. The only thing that keeps them secure is our desire to be like them? But we are not like them. We are far more superior. Because those of us that see, know they are a bunch of children with inherited powers. But their power is allusive, being stamped into your brain every time you turn on that idiot box of serfdom-ism.  “Idiot box” is an old term to describe the television, possibly even radio. But it is boredom that draws us to these devices of conformity.  All we have to do is live our own lives and if you have a fire pit, burn all these devices that carry the commercial imprint. The internet, unfortunately, is being dominated by commercialism, making it harder and harder to find commercial-free content. I have seen when the internet was born. It was created with other innocuous intentions, then distributed as a tool for information storage and retrieval. It had many unknown uses, and evolved into a powerful informational library. For the last 20 years it is been marred and distorted into tools of profit. You cannot go anywhere on the internet without getting garbage advertising on every page. It is safe to say the internet has been successfully, commercially dominated. But here again, we could use the internet for informational purposes and not worry about the “WDIGOOT?” (What do I get out of this?) syndrome. Con after con, shill after shill, profiteer after profiteer, hijacking knowledge and information and trying to get rich from plagiarism. Stealing knowledge from libraries and re-selling it via video, because, lets face it, a lot of people are too lazy to read. So we watch senseless video after video about, in basics, the humiliation of the commoners. Because as each of us watch this, we somehow think we are better then the person being degraded or exploited.

Pompous Crass of Prominence

Fame is the buffer between the 1 percenters and the classes. They are the heat sink. The people that actually work in government and law enforcement are not our enemies. They are the manipulated strong arm that is protecting the 1 percenters and their greed. We have to hold the source accountable. We cannot lose focus on the greedy millionaires and billionaires that love the royal treatment they receive daily. Famous people are our enforced roll models. Why do you think they have every sewer stench-scribed nasal discharged blether rag on display at virtually every grocery store checkout till? For your entertainment? No, for your brain honing. Subliminally being convinced that, we want to be them. They are the upper crust that we want to be, to have worth. But, wake up. You do not want to be anything like them because they are bought and paid for, and they couldn’t care a less about you, their serfdom fans, only that you idolize them. But don’t get to close, or you will get clobbered by several police batons as they get escorted off to a more secure (peon-less) area. No slaves allowed in the Royal chambers. Authorized servants only. Idolize them or resent them. They are not the ones we should focus on. They are there to distract, brainwash and bewilder and keep our eyes off the 1 percenters as the continually pick our pockets clean. This method stretches back to ancient Egypt. Nothing new. Just amazing they still use this method to docile (con) the masses. Politicians are in the same category. The famous ones. The ones that run for the top office for every municipality, state, province, or commercial North American country (federal).

Hearts May be Trump, But Diamonds are Forever

The current presidential race is somewhat of an over-endorsed, fable driven fiasco. It can only illuminate the depths that commercial North America has stooped, attempting to get the populous to view this slap-stick comedy routine of  malicious, brain insulting, outhouse seepage, verbalism of plague infested, festering media. Trying to revive the feminist movement/male dominance dispute that is so old and moldy, that the hopeful female presidential counterpart (Queen of Hearts, reversed) is confusing this with the odor fumigating from her labia. And the male presidential counterpart (King of Diamonds, reversed) that has died his hair blond, making a feeble attempt to appear young and more progressive, and trying to arouse the female counterpart of the vote with his portrayed masculinity? This guy is seriously out to lunch. Both candidates are out to lunch to be frank. I think they would make a great couple actually. They are so desperate trying to appeal to the younger generation, and really have no clue how to do that, but if they got married, or had a torrent affair, they would both get publicity. And, who ever wins, can be the animus or anima of the relationship. That way, they would both win! Donald and Hilary! Don and Hil! Or just “Down the Hill!”, a tale about “A Bankrupting Commercial Love Story. Starring the 1 percenter’s Poster Boy, The King of Diamonds, reversed. Also starring, the Female non-accountability trait Poster Girl, The Queen of Hearts, reversed. Oozing out of a commercial theater near you, soon!

Yucky Hily and Wacky Donny

The first episode would be Hil getting a hold of Don’s unlimited credit card and going on a shopping spree in France, Italy and all the other fashion-driven countries of Europe, then eloping with some young, European broke beatnik in no shoes, trying to relive her youth when being courted by Bill, but ends up in a drug rehab located in Narconon Sicily, broke and pregnant. Meanwhile, Don, trying to comes to terms that he is an aging youth, and still masturbates to pictures of Ivona, trying to find a replacement to Hil as he frantically follows her trail of credit receipts then ends up meeting her young beatnik lover and hitting it off, only to follow the same trail of drugs and wild sexual encounters across Europe, only to end up in the same drug rehab in Narconon Sicily. Once detoxed and back to relative health, he later finds Hil in a convent, where she aborted her child and became a Nun. As they hugged from happiness to see each other, Hil says, “Glad to see you Don! I have something for you. I have been protecting it for months.” She pulls up the mattress off her bed and  pulls out the golden, Excalibur-card, gleaming in the filtered sunlight, entering from the sheer curtains of an eastern window. A halo appeared over her head, and Hil says, “I have been protecting it for you.” Don takes the Excalibur-card and holds it above his head, reflecting in the light exclaiming, “I have been quenched with the thirst of lost credit! Never leave your homeland without it!”

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

© Copyright: dYnoReX and ADGMusic/Soft/Literature Org All rights reserved 2016