Sit-down Comic

     If I was to do comedy, I’d bring a chair. If you have to instruct people, SITTING is more humble than standing. Less intimidating. More manipulative to stair down at an audience with equal comfort. Why? Why not?

      I would love to beat up an audience from a chair with a couple of cans of 211. One filled with WATER so they can’t tell if its the alcohol making them laugh, or me. I’d bring dozens of yellow roses so each guy gets one. Then I’d say, “Now give it to your #1 girl”.

       Then I’d say, “Trick question!” as 70% immediatly obey… “Yellow is for FRIENDSHIP, not for LOVERS.”

      Then I would look and POINT and say, “YOU… YOU… AND YOU!!”, pointing at the men who would statisticly hesitate for whatever innocent reason. Then I’d juggle them, saying, “SHE IS YOUR FRIEND AND LOVER TOO, correct??”

       Then I bring out a 5 gallon bucket that says “RED PAINT” on it. “C’mon up, boys!”, I’d shout. Then when they get on stage they’d see in the bucket only a pliers and a to-do list written in FINE handwriting.

       The to-do is labelled “Before I Self-immolate On Stage” of everything I just did except for one square that says “take 3 guys pinkies off.”

     Then I say, “You guys ready? I am practically ON FIRE HERE!”

Just kidding.

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Not To Show Off

   …but I took a ziplock of coffee beans and RAN OVER it with the Ford Mustang. 1999. Not bad.

    

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     Strong cup. I did a “fine grind” by punching it, carefully, against concrete without breaking the bag.

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  Sift out chunks of bean…
  (Microwave hot water. Steep 10 minutes.)

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  I call it “Go Joe”, beaten to Brazilian perfection.

I Have A Feeling Most People Really Do Not Like Me

    That’s okay. I love them and suffer.

     How does that work?

     I am told FROM THE INSIDES OF myself that I am okay. And its not self-help, shelf-help or depending-on-a-yelp help… I have wavered in faith and character, but God is good to me. He saw my country through an attack, he is real as the bible scrolls say.

    Will I be good to HIM today?
Huh. I don’t know. But I know he will be good to me today as he has seen me through death of young friend, molestation, health woes, mental breakdown, physical, attack on the street 3x- once beaten, the other two I reported, a Dugard style torture- no joke- police report in Detroit Co. And near drowning.

     Wanna see what’s under the hood? Tats. Scars. Burns.
I think I’m a target.

     I am disabled. Damm. It really slows me down. Probably what I need for life- a body that is a sluggish prison, now age 40- a station until Gary Larson’s space cows come get me. My body is fit and equipt, encoded with captain log, memory, no chips, a little dip, and a cabin where I sleep.

     I am kidding. But I am getting tired of life. I’m 40, very disabled. I have to go back to work- but not too much or SSDI cuts off. I earned more than they give me. I am owed 1974-2009 @ $14k a year. That’s almost half a million dollars I have been cheated out of by doctors then government.

      I have a debt of only $30k. I feel so dishonoured. I began to attempt suicide twice this year. I am stressing my wife out to death. I want to live. I feel the world would be better off without me if the great wise Robin Williams felt THAT WAY.

      I was just told by my own mom, “If you need meds and have no money, you just have to go without. Thanks. Bless the ma. I ignore and abhor that statement. My wife and I suffer BIG TIME. WE ARE TOTALLY SCREWED. I WAS NOMINATED #1 BLOG NOT RECEIVING “THE” PRIZE AND
I AM CONTEMPLATING THE PHILOSOPHY OF DEATH EVERY DAY.

      Suicide, is not a choice I believe. Its an unchoice. If you do it, I bet its out of body because we are all really just planted elsewhere and return when we cease.

      If anyone can help, be my family. Tell me we will make it. I didnt realise today how much it is getting to me.

Harrisonandrew49@yahoo.com

Wag 4 Hire. DNC Promo 2016

Can I?
I can.
I am a citizen.
Disabled badly.
Do not ask.
I can get flash on myself via IV style, homie. I have HAE type I.
I fear nothing.
Except bad biscuits and mimes.

So…
I have 2 FB friends.
Not including me.

   Yeah, they are in the Middle East.

   Serious.

    They are real men. Not American woodle-poogs.

    What’s that?

    Never mind.

    They are nice to me. Friggin’ Sean Connery cool cats. Lions. Pashtun, baby.

    I have been anethstized. Inundated. Inducted. Into tribe Afridi.

    Do you know what the hell that MEANS??

    I… AM… the ONLY American related to Dr. Shakeel Afridi who betrayed bravely the whereabouts of Usama Bin Laden. U.. U…. They use an U not an O.

    Yes. So our mafia-whacking style president, oh gosh no.. sorry.. our successfully SNIPER-eyeing president…… ahhhh… better…

I called my reps… must have been delirious because I thought my Afridi clan friends died THIS year in a butterfly DOOLEY… and SO- I blamed us… boo! Yay. Whatever. The point is, is that hierchal ethics are a bitch.

     Ten years is too long to hunt future super-terrorist jerk faces. Sorry. Hierchal means values like Art of War Sun Tzu grand standard. Should be called a war-bible.
We shoulda captured & tried Usama… yet- funky flunk dunk, no. We dibbled 2. Everyone dies.

     Okay. Problem. Pakistan has gone extremist. My buds are THERE. You don’t get to be my friend on FB peachy dill, cuz its just a private party. But I have societal intel. Not military. Like anyone gives a rats shit. You racist capitalist fascist pieces of shim living all around me, eating schwarma and buying belly dancing videos. I am kidding.

     No I am not. This sucks. Our president O is the best yet. He has brought chalk and chaw back after shock n’ awe mastrubatory rock bombings to splaoge relief aids on American TV. Rank? File it. That was really J-Y. Blow up shit big. Thanks GOP for blowing with no wind sock to guide. Shut it. Kidding. Not.
Lion’s blood. Losing!

     No not really. My country is practicing war and after WWII its been declining. War ability. We suck at coming home jubulant. Now each mission can be redeemed. But now, lets say the World War of America on TERROR is OVER- until we meet the next bastard who passes flippin’ gas.

    If we do that, the 10s (2010-2019) can STILL BE a new improved EIGHTIES. People loved the 80s. If you did not, shut up. You were not born yet. Or born-again yet.

I want to state a

State Of National Non-Emergency NOW!!

Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, we are free at last… to forgive everyone responsible and NOT responsible for

    NINE ELEVEN

I am calling this one code 912

912 means after

After the 11th.

We will never forget…

But we must acknowledge now, we ARE FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Free from FEAR!!!!!

Free from WAR CONNECTION!!

If my followers do not speed-load and FWD this, I may just have to suicide-bomb my BLOG. (My blog, understand, all you nuts out there. Nod. Uh huh. Okay Andy.)

   I will END hahaha MY BLOG,
IF SOMEONE does NOT REPOST THIS POST 5 Trillion times.

And the NEXT GUY, YOU TOO.

No disrespect to the president, Barrack. He has had two jobs always- to be black in America… plus whatever he jobs at.

He is officially more smoking than Putin is Jet-puff marshmallowing kung fu, receiving publicly young lady calenders. Insecure. You van shoot me Putin for saying that. I dare ya.

   Okay. Right. Ripe.

   USA is ready to DECADE it.
On & on & on…

   What mysterious world story lay in the future? For one, 2016 is an empty seat. I am available to jiggle wag the dog for a party from my blog tourettes a’firing… letsee…

$1500oo/ post

DNC? Wanna get ready?

Trickle down to first forwarding bloggers who fwd my pro-DNC posts.

    

Smokey The Bear Punched Me

    Hi, y’all okra! I’m Red Fire Jimmy and was in the woods, driving my rig. I was sickened by all the beauty of Yosemite, Yellowstone, Spongeblob, and Jellystone National Forests, etcetera, etcetera. I got out of the cab and suited up. My cap is blue and my flamethrower backpack with 10 gal. fuel capacity is PURPLE and RED and I absolutely HATE, ABHOR, DETEST, VILLIFY, DENOUNCE AND BERATE TREES every day.

      But this day was SPECIAL. I was going to burn down Smokey The Bear’s House and in-the-ground Christmas tree that is always lit… shhhh!

And its by Smokey The Bear’s Jacuzzi on his very expansive park-like treeloving-doo-hoo-hoo joyful property at his private estate in Beverly Hills, California 90210…

No joke.

So I sneak in at night like the total dooley I am… and my pilot flame is hissin’ …

I’m in.

Oh man.

And then it hits me.

What?
I told you.
Smokey the Bear hit me
with peppah!!

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He told me I am a brat.
And to love ice, not fire.
Goodnite!

Snuggle Down Tonight

What is on my mind
My feelings
Individual
Forced from birth to sale
Automaticly
My life is not a dream
Nor is it real where I do not die?

Answers lie below in love
From people that I trust
A religion can get you thru
Life
But who paddles me thru my
Sea of death?
I want to mark myself
With his
Accomplishments
Who?
In America we say “Jesus”
Because it is written
He is smitten
With the bride.
And loves the little children.
So if you ask today
Ask away!
Ask questions about reality!
I am no preacher
I am a bleacher*

Bleaching linens,
Forgiving,
Forgiven.

He is sky.

I Am Worth One Trillion Dollars

        I think that this is possible thru taking into consideration that, one million millionaires- can be cared for thru the thoughts deeds and prayers of a schlurp like me.

(Do the aggreggate math, and you will see the possibilities.)

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      I have a gravity. And I really only want the red chariot of a Bentley stretched
racer that could only be driven by a “trillionaire” because… brocolli.

      SEE? Only a trillionaire or quadrillionaire would say, “Brocoli” to express OWNERSHIP. It is intellectual property we are a’threshing NOW, boys.

   So settle in.

Oh, who cares who wins “Life”?

Refueling While Moving

   In a plane. Just saw it in a movie. C’mon, America. Wake up. Nightmares in your American Dreams? Hey sweet duckies… here is ONE idea-

Who can drive non-stop (safely) and refuel while moving at 55 MPH?

Let’s say… who will?

These:

South America tip to Alaska! What a TRIP that would be.

South Africa to Spain. No stopping. Only rolling.

Base 3451 Antarctica to Alert in Nunavut territory, nation of Canada. Uhhh. No. That won’t work.
(Too many islands.)

But hey, even though I am a jokester and wannabe Niki Lauda on fire for driving… I think people NEED to get oky
again.

    Oh… its so cute. Oky. Hi there new word “oky”… (pronounced Au·Key)

   Are you okay, Oky?

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Oh… my feeling is deeper, sir

But thank you

For protecting…

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Now THAT was a show. Mork & Mindy. It was like church. Learning right and wrong. How to get along.

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And, ya know… Mindy is not
his wife or woman
  but we all need a place to
    nest. Mork was in the attic
     and layed an egg.

Oh yeah right.

He did! On the show.

And then a big old man.
“Murph”.

Well, Robin will be missed. As a blogger, I want to say that I care somehow about people. Robin was born to funny, and us funny guys have heart, right? So I think he would say:

“‘King of Comedy’?”… sorry for the tragedy.
We all must face tragedy.”

The movie “TOYS” may give insight to fans about Robin dying. I do not like to say Robin died. His persona matrix is so open. What do I mean by that? That others should copy the good he did.

New English Empire I.D.

     Worn on the Achilles, like a Boba “The” Fett new world man…

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But that’s a DL??

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Ah, THERE it is. USA is a start-up country stolen from England. Or started? I pay homage to the Queen of UK like Canadians do.

    I am a one man zoo.

    My ID boasts a firey picture, no name and just part of the UK slab-banner. Sluhbbanner!
Its a bananer. Banana? Bandana! For my right foot swift to justice and not evil.

     I bear a license I made… to CONDUCT and drive me-self. Syntaxsinner is my alma I.D.- on a shelf. I am not all countries. Lil ambassador to some. I started this New English Empire… before the idea is won.

      I syntax-sin. I win. To a king Isa-Il of the muslims’s world I bow alone to He. Living in Oregon Forest is for me. And visit the Queen or King Harry? We will see.

     King Harry??? Yes! Look at the RED. He is genetic blood of the REAL KING of U.K.

     (I am a bit crazy, okayyy??)

     UK! Its MY ISLAND. I know her, poeticise her, caress her land with admiring internet eyes, fondle her.. ER- fond of her… Scotland is her rugged love. She started shit in 1000 A.D.?? He broke her hands and feet. And did he lay shag carpet in her pantry?? No. He silently died after WAR long ago.

     But He did not die. He simply fought and traced England’s shape. Wallace was dowry. Am I MAD now? The land is married… or merry. May God save the queen, the current wedding ring her crown- Harry is the silent Noble of Ancients?- a new ild position.

      See Harry in War. See him home when done. I am manly, Andy, proud. Proud to be Afridi and Harrison. Spiritually. The UK Beattles sing to me. I am no one. A midnight marrying monk, maybe. Rowan bishop on the arch may not see.

     I own you. I lose you. I hold you down to take you to places? I am confused. I am a ruddy whitely horse under the horseman for which English UK banner stands. King Cross and a reaper. Inspiring freedom to lands.

      He made the lands. He make us breathe. His identity is Jesu Sanctu koom matrimonum koom manu. Kiss the hand, clean your saffron pre-kilt. In the waters of today. All lands go to all the meek controlled, able, strong, just. The crown is destined for William under Wallace. Crown him we must.

  But long live the Queen.
Victoria, Victoria. She lives
in secret house Victoria. And you know her name. More than a dame. She works dawn to dusk. Not in Bentleys on autobahns, not eating bon bons.

    God save her,
   She is Queen NOW of many lands claimed and admiring her.
   God save the Queen.
Bride of pure Christendom adore her. Bless her. And bless the Kingdoms under the Kingdom to come.

May it be so.

.
.
.

Sanctu Vitalis Sanctu Requiem us,

A. Harrison
Jester of
West West West Chester,
  Oregon chunk, 97222
   Unincorporated UK territory,
(Lost Lands)
U.S.A.