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Posts Tagged ‘Earth’

 

A. POOKIE’S ADVENTURES IN EL DORADO HILLS:

The weather broke colder this weekend. The temperature dropped from the mid-seventies to the mid-fifties. Not cold by the measure of those places that enjoy (or suffer) real winters, but enough to make these old bones prefer indoors with a warm cup of coffee to walking outdoors no matter how good the exercise may be for them. Nevertheless, on Sunday, instead of my usual stroll around the lakes, I rambled a bit through SDS park near my house. The paths in the park mostly circle the community playing fields and pool. One path, however, branches off through the woods and along the creek. It, for some reason, is called, New York Park. I rarely take that path because it contains signs that say, “Beware of Mountain Lions.” Next to bears, I fear mountain lions most.

Recently, I posted on Facebook a short piece I had written a few years ago about the 1950s Rock group Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers. In 1956 or 1957, I attended a concert featuring the group in Brooklyn’s old Fox Theater with a young lady friend. We were both teenagers 16 or 17 at the time. We have not seen each other for over 60 years so imagine my surprise when that Facebook post received a “Like”  from her.

Now, I believe Facebook is one of the most pernicious things to have been foisted on humanity since the invention of warfare, nevertheless, for the anziani like me, something like this can make our day — perhaps even our whole week.
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Facebook Addiction.

I spent Monday helping Naida move some things around her house and disposing of some of Bill’s old clothing at Goodwill. While erecting a bookcase in her office, I noticed an amazing collection of books set in or about California during the period in which she set her great California Gold Country Trilogy. Many of the books she used for research. She pointed out a few places where she adapted the information for use in her novels. She also told me that while writing the books and even after they were published she received a number of original diaries written by people who lived in the area at the time in which the novels were set, including one that was so fantastic and dramatic that I still cannot get it out of my mind.

While the story contained in that diary (now lost) that she told me about while we took a coffee break is too long and mysterious to relate in its entirety here, some of the background is quite interesting. It all had something to do with the gold discovery at John Sutter’s Mill in 1748. Marshall was not the first to discover gold in California. Several others had done so before him. There was even an anemic and brief gold rush when gold was discovered In Southern California about 20 years before — in the San Gabriel Mountains I believe. About a year before Marshall’s find, a Mormon family had found gold in what is now the City of Folsom. They busily packed the gold dust and nuggets they had located in the local creeks into barrels. They intended eventually use the treasure to found the Temple City of the Mormons in the golden hills somewhere near where I currently reside. Unfortunately or fortunately depending on your view of the Latter Day Saints, Brigham Young, their leader, took sick with rocky mountain spotted fever somewhere near the desolate shores of the Great Salt Lake in what is now the State of Utah and declared to all that God had decided he would build his New Jerusalem there rather than in California. The Mormon gold digging family tried to dissuade the leader of their church by pointing out the golden hills were indeed golden, the great valley contained some of the richest farmlands on earth and the native people were willing slaves. But, despite their arguments, their entreaties fell on deaf ears. So, about the time Marshall and his cronies were setting about publicizing their find, they packed up their treasure and returned over the hills to found their blessed City on the Mountain or in this case the desert.

Marshall found the gold at John Sutter’s the mill site in early January of that fateful year but did not announce it publicly until May. What he and his cronies — among which was the writer of one of the diaries Naida obtained — spent those almost five months searching for additional rich sites, securing the land, obtaining the supplies miners would need, establishing the campsites the miners would require as they traveled from San Francisco to the future diggings in the foothills and so on. In other words, it was intended to be a vast real estate scheme in the grand California tradition.

To put everything in context, it is probably important to recognize that San Francisco in March of that year when Sam Brannon — who may or may not have been one of the conspirators — prematurely ran down the City’s main street shouting that gold had been discovered, only about 350 persons of European descent and about 800 of African, Asian and Latino heritage lived in the City by the Bay. The Europeans who reaped most of the benefits of the scheme, as they usually do, were for the most part little more than thugs. Within the next five years or so, over 80,000 people flooded into the City in pursuit of the riches that ultimately mostly ended up in the hands and pockets of the thugs and conspirators. After all, in good old American business theory, the greedy grubby miners could be viewed as little more than unpaid workers and small independent contractors who paid to the conspirators for supplies, food, drink, and rent almost every penny of value they received from anything they dug up.

And what of Marshall? He was by some reports a very dislikable man, contentious, perhaps violent and a bit deranged who, after all this, died broke. But not before, along with some friends, Folsom, Ord (of Fort Ord fame), and others had dinner as guests in the home of William L. Leidesdorf. Leidesdorf, a black man from St Croix, a shipowner, and accountant, was the wealthiest man in San Francisco at the time (he is also considered the founder of San Francisco). He owned the land upon which the Mormons discovered their gold. He, in partnership with John Sutter, had acted as agent for the sale of the gold discovered in the area charging a 50% commission for their efforts while trying to keep the existence of the discoveries quiet. During that very dinner, according to the now lost diary, the host died under mysterious circumstances. Shortly thereafter Leidesdorf’s mother living in St Croix and his only heir received almost $800,000 (out of over $2,000,000 promised, the remainder of which she never received) in today’s money for renouncing her interest in her son’s estate that had been left to her by him and worth more than $50 million today’s value. When the estate was finally probated the land containing most of the value in that estate passed into the hands of the guest whose name the city eventually built thereon now bears his name. But, that is all another story.
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Leidesdorf                                          Folsom

Today, the skies and clear, the temperature in the mid-sixties. I continue to kick the can down the road as to not only what I shall be doing next month and to where I may be traveling but for the rest of my life as well. There are some days that that bothers me a lot and some nights it actually makes me thrash about in despair for a few minutes before I fall asleep.

As for my projected travels, while I agree with Josiah Bancroft’s dictum “Never let a rigid itinerary discourage you from an unexpected adventure,” I prefer to dispense with the “itinerary” altogether and get right on with the “unexpected adventure.”

Today, I saw my first ornamental fruit tree in bloom. Spring has arrived, appropriately on Valentine’s Day.
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I never liked Valentine’s Day. In grammar school, before they began requiring everyone to receive a Valentine’s Day card, I rarely got any even though my mom made me bring one for each kid in the class. I wasn’t a bully, just the quiet weird kid who sat in the corner and read history textbooks. The bullies all received Valentine’s Day cards. Everyone likes winners. Come to think of it, there were (and still are) very few holidays I liked, As a kid, I liked Fourth of July. The volunteer fire department in the little town I grew up in always put on a bitchin fireworks display. Memorial Day was pretty good also. A bunch of families would gather together at a place called Peach Lake in Westchester County, New York. The men would eat raw clams all day, drink beer from kegs and get drunk. The women would get angry because the men were all drunk and then the arguments would start. In a way, it was a little like Fourth of July, lots of fireworks. One day, my father drove the car into the stream that fed the lake — my brother and me sitting in the back seat thought it was great fun — my mother, not so much.

Another week has gone by, more trees have burst into bloom and the daffodils have pushed through the earth and splashed some of the local gardens with streaks of buttery yellow. I have not felt well this week, fatigue and listlessness. It could be the change of seasons. It often affects me like this. Well, not to worry, it is whatever it is.

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On Saturday, I helped Naida move more things out of the house, drove HRM to various skate parks, read late into the night and struggled with my fury over the latest massacre of innocents in school by right-wing fanatics with an assault rifle.

 

B. PONDEROUS PONDERINGS AND MEANDERING EPHEMERA:

Like most people I guess, I have lived more than one life — in my case three. We all live our own timelines of course, from birth to death and whatever might happen in between. I seemed to have lived my life in about five year or so increments usually ending in some life altering collapse, usually self-inflicted. After that, there would be about three years or so of wandering in between each phase as I tried to put my life back together.

My second life was the almost 15,000 books I have read in the past 75 years or so, most of them fiction — and most of the fiction fantasy — the farther from the mundane the better. I do not read words. Only images run past my eyes.

My third life is my dreams. Often they impinge on my waking memory and I believe things occurred in my life that never happened. For example, for years I believed there was a seacoast town I would periodically visit. I knew the people, the shops, streets and so on. One morning, I thought it would be pleasant to visit the place for a day or two. I searched for how to get to it and discovered it did not exist. It made me wonder not whether I was crazy or not but what else it was that I remember that also may be fantasy. On the other hand, I could be stuck in an ontological cul de sac or is it an epistemological dead end. There is no question, however, that I live in a metaphysical planned unit development with Descartes my neighbor on one side, Schrodinger on the other and Timothy Leary showing up once a week with a philosophical leaf blower strapped to his back.

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A. POOKIE’S ADVENTURES IN EL DORADO HILLS:

Almost a week has gone by since I returned from Mendocino. Most of the time, I have felt too exhausted to do much other than driving HRM to and from school, sleeping, and reading. Hopefully, I will get back to swimming this weekend. The weather seems to be getting warmer.

SWAC returns in early March. It will probably better for all concerned that I leave for the month or so that she will be here. While it is a bit of a bother, I look forward to a little traveling if my health allows. The problem I have is in deciding where to go and what to do when I get there.

On March 24th, I intend to accompany Peter to another concert at SFJAZZ. That breaks things up nicely in the middle. Two weeks in March during which I can travel visiting friends in other parts of California and perhaps stay with my sister and George in Mendocino for a few days. Then, my finances willing, spending the next three weeks or so in Italy, or Thailand or on some adventure cruise somewhere. Alas, this needs all too much planning. I hate that. Probably, I’ll just drift and see what happens. Something always does. Didn’t I just go through this a month ago?

Recently, Dick requested an update from the school counselor about HRM’s performance. Amid a generally upbeat report, the counselor mentioned that in a recent History exam on a question to be answered in three paragraphs, the first two paragraphs of HRM’s answer were “positively brilliant” but the third was, “from Mars.” Should we worry?

On Saturday, after almost a month of finding reasons not to do so, some real others make believe, I got it together to exercise again. Even while I sat at the edge of the pool, I still told myself it would be too cold, I was too sick or tired yadda, yadda, yadda and I should simply return home, clutch my hot pad, and put myself back to bed. But, in the end, I dove in and enjoyed myself immensely. I feel good tonight, better than I have felt in a while.

That same night, I had a wonderful dream that seemed to last for hours. In that dream, there was an ancient Roman Ruin located on San Francisco’s shoreline somewhere near Candlestick Point (this is a dream after all). There the Roman Nobility would greet the ships returning from war, their holds full to bursting with treasure. It was decided by the present day city fathers to restore those ruins as another tourist attraction — sort of like Fisherman’s Wharf. To kick everything off, they held a grand party in the ruins prior to restoring them. I assisted in the preparations for the party throughout the day. That night, the rich and the powerful and even the not so rich and powerful arrived dressed in period costumes, togas, chitons and the like. The richest and most powerful men were often old and shriveled with paper thin skin and blue veins pulsing beneath. The women came in all shapes and sizes and were aggressive and bejeweled.

Each room had something different going on — different food, music, dances, conversation, drinks and the like. I visited most of them and enjoyed it, especially the dancing and the music.

During the evening, I noticed there were about five or six people who traveled through those rooms and hallways that had not been fixed up for the party. They clearly were searching for something. One large room was filled with water and they used small boats to search for whatever they were looking for. They appeared to be led by a tall, handsome man dressed in a tuxedo.

Later, after most of the guests had left, I joined them. I never learned what it was they were looking for, but I enjoyed going from room to room with them looking for it. Later, we all sat by a campfire in the corner of a vacant roofless room and talked about lots of things for awhile.

Dawn came. I knew that I would have to wake up soon and rejoin my waking life. I was a bit sad knowing I probably would never return.

While I lay in my bed in that grey time between sleep and wakefulness, I wondered if the dreams of our waking life were our reality — whether life was just a long daily slog from the darkness of the womb to the night with no morning or if it was a series of time garbled one night stands that go on changing each night forever.

The week has gone silently by. Looking out the window as I enjoy my afternoon snacks of Oreo cookies dunked in milk, I watch the days zip by like cars on a freeway.

I have given some thought to my spring travels. One half or about 3 weeks I probably will wander about California visiting friends. The other half, when I began to look into it, seemed to depend somewhat on cost.Thailand, Italy, A Caribbean cruise, and Cuba all seem to cost about the same and may be affordable. Only my dream boat trip down the Peruvian Amazon looks as though it is too expensive. I still need to get a new car. Oh well, I guess I will kick the can down the road for another week or so. Maybe something will happen to force a decision or change my options.

The week has trundled by. During my walk around the lakes this morning, I saw the first greening of the trees. It seems to be a bit early for that. I think of the wintertime in the golden hills as the silver time. The naked deciduous trees have a silver cast to them and the often overcast skies are silver also. Late summer is the gold time — golden hills with deep blue skies. Autumn — red, brown and yellow, and spring — virescent and speckled in brazen pastels.

One morning while driving HRM to school, I in my grandfatherly mode mentioned to him that he is now getting big, adult-sized, and that simple physical actions like suddenly spreading his arms wide or rushing through a restaurant that to an adult would seem cute were he a small child, now that he is almost man-sized would make some people frightened and when frightened adults often act angry. I wanted to warn him that now that he is a teenager simple physical actions that may have drew smiles when he was little may cause a different reaction now that he is becoming man-sized. “Stop!” he responded, “I do not want to hear that. I do not want to be a teenager. I do not want to grow up. Why should I want to?” I could not answer that. Sometimes, grandfathers are just old and not too wise.

 

 

B. RAGGED ROBIN’S NATURE NOTES:

End of January means it is time for the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch – like many of you I’ve been doing this for years and it is always interesting to read on other blogs what people have seen in their gardens.

It was raining heavily on Saturday and there were few birds about so I did my birdwatch yesterday when it was dry and sunny. Our garden faces South making photography (and even watching birds at times!) a bit of a challenge but it did cloud over a bit for the last half hour.

So what did I see?

House Sparrow x 5
Wood Pigeon x 5
Robin x 2 (sometimes we get 3 in the garden and it is amusing to watch the “resident” robin chasing away the other two intruders!
Blackbird x 2
Great Tit x 1
Blue Tit x 3
Dunnock x 3
Goldfinch x 3
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Starling x 1
Long-tailed Tit x 2

As many of you have commented several species fail to put in an appearance during the hour – here it was Magpie, Carrion Crow, Stock Dove, Wren and Coal Tit. The Blackcap we had on the feeders for about two weeks has disappeared but the Ring-necked Parakeets are still visiting – they turned up an hour after the Birdwatch finished.
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(JP — It appears that the non-native Parakeets have become as common in the English Midlands as Parrots have on San Francisco’s Telegraph Hill. Sometimes, when I used to walk home from my office in Embarcadero Center to my apartment, the parrots would congregate in the trees that grew in the little park I crossed to reach my building. They were a raucous bunch, as noisy as a singles bar on Friday evenings. Perhaps they were mating too.)

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Outside Dick’s Home across the driveway from the front door there is a tall hedge growing. I assume it was planted to shield the occasional pedestrians on the street from a view of our garbage cans. On one side of the hedge, barely visible from either the front door or the street is a large dark gap or hole in the foliage. From this gap, for as long as I have lived here, there issue several rivulets of water that tumble down the slope for about 30 feet or so before disappearing into a drain at the side of the garage. During the rainy season, these rivulets grow quite large and at times flood the driveway.
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Not too long ago, while leaving the house, I noticed some kid standing by the garbage cans behind the hedge peeking out at the street. Curious, I shouted, “ Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?”

At the sound of my voice, he spun around and stared at me, a surprised look on his face. That’s when I realized he was not some kid, but a very short old man with a scraggly gray beard. Old, about my age with wrinkles on his face that stood out like scars. He was short, well under five feet I guessed and dressed oddly too. On his head, he had on what looked like a black or dark blue felt fedora with its brim cut off. His coat, dark brown in color, had shiny buttons, yellow piping, and hung almost to his knees. Below the coat were wrinkled tan pants tucked into dirty white socks. On his feet, he had what looked like old hiking boots.

He hesitated a moment then turned, ran through the mud, up the slope and dove head first into the gap in the hedge. I noted that he was far spryer than I.

“Hey!” I shouted and ran across the driveway after him. Well, I actually didn’t run, that’s beyond me at this age — shuffled more likely. Also, I was wearing my imitation Crocs that I bought in Thailand for two dollars. There’s no running in them — waddling perhaps.

I crossed the driveway, then slipped and slid through the silt and the mud and turned toward the dark gap. “I’ve got you now you rat bastard,” I thought.

As I approached the hole and tried to reach in to grab the little jerk, I slipped and slid feet first into the gap. I fell thinking I was going to land hard on my ass. Instead, I kept falling down and down and down. As I slid down, one of my faux Crocs slipped off my foot. For some reason, I believed it essential I save the thing and so I did by grabbing it and clutching it to my breast. It felt like I was dropping down the chute at a water park. I tried to turn my body so I could apply some friction to slow or stop my fall. I got part way around when I popped out of the tube, flew about five feet through the air and with a loud “oomf,” landed face down onto what felt like soft moss. I was sopping wet and in pain all over. I was still grasping the phony Croc like it had saved my life. Eventually, I moved my head a bit and glimpsed a small pond a few feet away from where I lay. I could hear the plopping sound of water dribbling into the pond. I appeared to be lying in a small clearing a forest. I spied the little guy standing at the edge of the clearing. When he saw me looking at him, he ran off into the woods and disappeared. “You rat bastard,” I croaked after him.

Slowly and agonizingly, I worked my way onto my back, looked up into the clear blue sky, and shouted “I am not Alice.”

Four days later, I returned home. Neither Hayden nor Dick seemed aware that I had been gone. What was even more strange was that they also seemed not to notice my appearance. I was almost naked wearing only a few rags and of course the phony Crocs. My beard was long and braided. On my chest I sported a tattoo of a naked mole rat standing fully erect and above it in large red bank gothic the words “Fuck Trump.” A stud, shaped like a human thigh bone, pierced my left earlobe.

Disappointed at their lack of reaction, I stomped off the bathroom, showered, shaved, removed the thigh bone stud and put myself to bed. The next morning Dick woke me up to drive Hayden to school.

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INTRODUCTION

 

The following is the first book of the mysterious manuscript I discovered at the bottom of a Skippy’s Peanut Butter jar. According to the author, Joe (no relation), the typface used in the manuscript was “…Marker Felt Wide Typeface. It is generally used to denote humor but it is also can be difficult to read. So is the Bible.”

 

Regretfully that typeface cannot be reproduced here.

Papa Joe.

 

JOE’S BIBLE – SUI GENESIS I

 

HOW GOD CREATES EVERYTHING AND FUCKS IT UP ANYWAY

 

1. Long long ago (about 5000 years ago in fact), there lived GOD and nobody else and it was dark.

 

2. And with GOD was the WORD and the word was “YOWEE, that hurts. Who put the fucking trumpet in front of the bathroom door? Let there be light,” and the universe was cleft in twain because only a YOWEE can cleft a twain and there was light.

 

3. And GOD said “that’s better” and he named the light “Day” and the dark “Night.

 

4. “Why?” said the Word.

 

5. “Because,” said GOD “you couldn’t call the day night could you? And by the way who the hell are you?”

 

6. “I am the Word,” Word answered. “I am here with Ghost. We are all together in this, whatever this is.”

 

7. “How come I never met you two before,” asked GOD?

 

8. “Because this is the first Levee`,” said Ghost. “And by-the-way it’s still dark at night and we could still trip over things. You’re the Creator you should do something about it.”

 

9. “All this creating has tired me out”, said the Creator. ” Maybe I will work on it tomorrow.” And GOD saw that this was a good idea.

 

9. And so they went to bed, but the Creator could not sleep because he had never slept with two guys before and it made him uncomfortable.

 

10. And on the second Levee`, GOD arose but could not separate the waters from the firmament and Ghost suggested a laxative and GOD saw it was good.

 

11. Then GOD said, “what’s the use of a Levee` if there is no one to watch it.”

And so the Creator created many, many (Word called it”a shit load”. Him of course being good with words and all) beings he called “Angels” and ordered them to all look at him at all times which irked one of the Angels called Lucifer Morning-Star because it was very boring since there was really nothing to look at except GOD sitting on his throne trying to separate the waters from his firmament.

 

12. And Lucifer spoke “What is this crap? We all look like nancy-boys with our ringlets. And besides there you sit 15 feet tall, long white hair and beard, rippling muscles and a three and a half-foot dong and what do we get, these little fucking wings, and a shift for GOD’s sake with nothing under it .“

 

13. After Lucifer spoke all the Angels started grumbling.

 

14. Sensing trouble GOD said “Stop it all of you. I admit Lucifer has got a point there. I am new at this creator stuff. I’ll tell you what, I’ll consider giving you all dongs, of course much smaller than mine, when I figure out what it is good for. Let me sleep on it and think it over.”

 

15. And the Angels appeared satisfied with that except for Lucifer but he held his peace.

 

16. Seeing this the Creator turned to Word and Ghost and said, “We have got to keep an eye on that one we do.” And GOD agreed with himself that that was a good idea.

 

17. And on the third Levee as GOD sat on his throne amidst his angels hoping the laxative would do him some good, the Creator said, “Ghost since thou art my spirit get thee below me and gather the waters that I shall call the ‘Seas’ in one place and let the hard stuff appear that I shall call ‘Earth’.”

 

18. And the Word said,”Why are you talking like that with all those thees and thous?”

 

19. “Because I thought that sounded more GOD like,” answered the Creator.

 

20. And so the spirit of GOD passed over the waters and did as he was told and GOD did not feel better because it stunk up the place and thus the Creator said, “Let the earth put forth vegetation, plants yielding seed and fruit trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, each according to its kind and oh do not forget flowers, sweet-smelling flowers.” And it was so.

 

21. And GOD said, “that’s a pretty good days work,” and went off to bed.

 

22. On the fourth Levee GOD sat on his throne amidst all his Angels and he thought and after a while he said “This day and night thing is a little too bland for my taste. I think I’ll put these sparkly things up in the night…ah sky and call them stars and don’t ask me why I call them that they just seem like stars.”

 

23. “Still too dark,” observed Word.

 

24. “OK,” the Creator agreed, “I’ll add this big silver thing the…Moon. I like that the Moooon. Sounds good. And to balance things out, I’ll add this yellow thing here in the day and call it the Sun.” And before anyone else could speak he glared at everyone and said “What else would I call it?”

 

25. Word and Ghost agreed and Ghost said he liked the color scheme so far.

 

26. And on the Fifth Levee`, GOD sat on his throne amidst his adoring Angels and peered between his legs at the seas and the earth below him and said, “I know its pretty, but its boring I think we need a little action.”

 

27. And so the Creator got to work and said, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of things that move around, and let there be things that fly about the seas and the earth.” And GOD was still not satisfied so the Creator said, “Let the land also bring forth things that move about.” And the Platypus, the Gnu and lots of slimy things came out upon the earth. And upon seeing this the Creator said, “Uh..let me be clearer, let there be things like Cows and insects and Tigers and Elephants yes especially Elephants and things like that.” And so it was done.

 

29. Then the Creator said, “I have got a great idea on how to really liven things up,” and he divided each animal into two and to one he gave a dong a lot like his but mostly smaller except for the very big animals because he thought it would look strange if it were too small and probably would not work anyway, each according to his kind and to the other a deep slippery hole in which to the dong fit pretty comfortably in most part and then the Creator said to all the things that moved on the earth, in the air and in the seas, “Now go fuck your selves silly and increase and multiply and fill the earth and kill and eat one another with lots of blood and screaming and things like that.” And GOD was happy and took a nap because this was a really hard day for him.

 

30. And on the fifth Levee` GOD sat on his Throne amidst the adoring Angels and said, “You know I would really like something that looks like me and all this naming and watching over things is getting annoying so we could assign him to do that.”

 

31 And so the Creator took some of the stuff floating under the Throne of GOD and created something in his own image but instead of being 15 feet tall, covered in hair, with rippling muscles and a 3 and a half-foot dong (Called the ‘Dong of GOD’ or ‘Ding Dong’) the thing was about 5 ft 6 inches tall a bit flabby, not too much hair and its dong barely 5 inches long. And GOD approved and called it Adam because he did not like Word’s suggestion that it be called Irving.

 

32. Then the Creator reached again into the muck and molded something into which Adam could fit his little dong and called it Lilith.

 

33. Then Gabriel, one of the Angels, looked at Lilith closely and said, “Yowee, what are those things?”

 

34. “Knockers,” said GOD thinking quickly.

 

35. Then GOD, a little peeved at the Angels reaction to Lilith, said to the Heavenly Host, “Forget her, I want you all to bow down and worship my man Adam.”

 

36. “That does it,” said Lucifer, “Im pissed. First you have not delivered on the dongs and…”.

 

37. And GOD, sensing trouble, immediately had the Creator pass out dongs to Lucifer and a few of the other Angels that seemed to agree with him and said, “Does that satisfy you now?”

 

38. “Not really,” said Lucifer. “You told us when we were created that we were your right hand..uh Angels and now you want us to bow before this pissants (Lucifer was pretty good with words himself) midget GOD and we still have these goddamn shifts and fruity little wings.”

 

39. And with that Rafael, another angel, bitch slapped him good and hard and all hell broke out in Heaven with angels pulling each others hair and rolling on the ground and the like.

 

40. “Do something,” said Ghost to the Creator. “You created them.” But just then GOD’s firmament moved and he was preoccupied.

 

41. And so it came to pass that Gabriel and his nancy-boys drove Lucifer and his biker friends from heaven. Not that they wanted to stay there anyway because tomorrow was Sabbath and the day of their weekly motorcycle rally along Coast Highway.

 

42. So when Gabriel returned, GOD thought it would be a good Idea to give him a reward for his efforts and gave him the old trumpet he had lying abound and was always tripping over.

 

43. “Blow Gabriel Blow,” GOD directed. And Gabriel did blow and the sound that came out was so horrid and loud that GOD could feel the waters under his throne splashing his nether parts.

 

44. “Hmm,” GOD said to Gabriel, “instead of blowing on your horn right now how’s about I give you all these little harps you can play on and maybe, you know, you can organize a heavenly chorus?”

 

45. GOD seeing the Gabriel seemed a bit dejected said to him, “Trust me Gabriel hold off on blowing the trumpet right now and I promise you that the next time you do my firmament will return to the waters.” And that cheered Gabriel greatly.

 

46. in addition to the chorus, Gabriel, Raphael, Michael and Ringo formed a rock band that they called Big G and the Archangels and they all dressed in sequins that sparkled in the light and put on a show for GOD.

 

47. And then the Word, while God listened to the Gabriel’s band playing “When the Saints Go Marching In”, whispered to the other two they would be a great lead act for the next Levee`, and the Creator said “that’s a good idea.”

 

49. Then, after the concert, GOD announced, “Thats it. I’ve had enough of this creating. I’m taking tomorrow off.”

 

50. And with that GOD got up, left his throne, went back to bed and slept through all the next day.

 

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