Tatoo, Part 16 (Stopped 14-2)
RARE SECOND EDITION
The $651 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Zero Down
Shark America Ten Up
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 219
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008. Attack Codes are "Two Birds, One Stone", "Double Down", "Home", "Sirhan Sirhan", "Admiral Moorer", "Fadel Shana", "Topsy-Turvy", "Dead Soul Family", "Admiral Moorer 2" & "Nipple".
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008.
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World.
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (16-14-2)
Today's code is "145th Day, Last Year".
My Old Pal God asked me to put out today's report early, and by the smell of the anger in the ether quite a few Christians read it; but Christian anger at me is not unusual and not the reason God asked me to put today's report out early.
I wait now, as evening comes on, for some special news, because I think there is a second report in the offing. My usual deadline is still some six hours away; so I man my post waiting for the news to come in on the wings of a snow white dove.
I have received no God's Space War code yet today, and these days that is unusual. Perhaps that is what is coming; a glowing hot iron code straight from Blacksmith God.
I suppose people think I make this stuff up as I go along, but, no, I get it and I pass it on; and in general the less of me that gets into the mix the better and more true the work.
I am like an old work horse used to the harness, the kind that would clippity clop home when harnessed to the buckboard in olde timey horse and wagon days, while the couple bungled in the buckboard bed and the moonlight lit the way home from the square dance, the horse being sure not to run the wagon wheels over any rocks in the road (there used to be such horses) and I get a little antsy as deadline time approaches when I have already done my work and have no need to be in harness.
Perhaps it is just wishful thinking, that a God's Space War code is coming in, an excuse to tappy tap my fingers on the keyboard.
We shall see what we shall see.
It is about 1620, and I don't really expect a code until about 1800 when the house is quiet and I am alone.
Waiting, in harness, I kick over old memories for things to tell you.
We are closing in on Memorial Day, but a war story does not seem to fit the feeling of today. I love my war stories. I am so happy I went to war.
A sea story perhaps? I love my sea stories. I am so happy I went to sea.
A love story perhaps? I love my love stories. I am so happy I fell in love.
A God story perhaps? I love my God stories. I am so happy God loves me.
A dog story...no...a childhood story...no...a space story...no...a womb story...yes.
I don't know about you, but I remember being in my Mother's Womb; perhaps because I had been born so many times before and I was aware of that part of life...(ah, here I am again in a womb...drifting down the lazy river watching my fingers grow).
There is a time in the womb when the womb feels like the Universe to the child, and the child feels like God within it. (Lookit! I look at my fingers and they grow! Lookit! I do nothing and cause everything! I am in my Heaven and all is right with the world.)
At a point, however, Heaven rejects the little god, and like Adam and Eve he or she is pushed out into the cruel, cruel world, expelled; and it is a little scary, and a little suffocating, but suddenly the little god is free, and its first sight is the inside tenderness of its mother's leg...and then...and then...
But let me tell you what I was about to tell you about my birth, and then I will get to the "and then...".
Just before I was born God invited me to a little party, and there was a table around which many other children in many other wombs were sitting and laughing and having a good old time; and God held up God's Finger and said, "It is time for Virgil to be born, wave goodbye everyone"; and all the children at the party waved goodbye, and I went through the scary, suffocating birth canal, and was born.
And now we come to the "and then..." of this story; and then I tasted the sweetest taste all lucky babies taste in their lifetime, their mother's milk mixed with their own saliva on their mother's nipple.
And what is this? Here comes today's code: "Nipple".
And what is this? Sweet Muse is still at battle station and not telling us her story of Tatoo and the founding of the Nipponese.
Tatoo, Part 16 (Stopped 14-2)
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire Israel will serve up, passed through the 145th day of its last year.
The $651 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Zero Down
Shark America Ten Up
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 219
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008. Attack Codes are "Two Birds, One Stone", "Double Down", "Home", "Sirhan Sirhan", "Admiral Moorer", "Fadel Shana", "Topsy-Turvy", "Dead Soul Family", "Admiral Moorer 2" & "Nipple".
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008.
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World.
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event.
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (16-14-2)
Today's code is "145th Day, Last Year".
My Old Pal God asked me to put out today's report early, and by the smell of the anger in the ether quite a few Christians read it; but Christian anger at me is not unusual and not the reason God asked me to put today's report out early.
I wait now, as evening comes on, for some special news, because I think there is a second report in the offing. My usual deadline is still some six hours away; so I man my post waiting for the news to come in on the wings of a snow white dove.
I have received no God's Space War code yet today, and these days that is unusual. Perhaps that is what is coming; a glowing hot iron code straight from Blacksmith God.
I suppose people think I make this stuff up as I go along, but, no, I get it and I pass it on; and in general the less of me that gets into the mix the better and more true the work.
I am like an old work horse used to the harness, the kind that would clippity clop home when harnessed to the buckboard in olde timey horse and wagon days, while the couple bungled in the buckboard bed and the moonlight lit the way home from the square dance, the horse being sure not to run the wagon wheels over any rocks in the road (there used to be such horses) and I get a little antsy as deadline time approaches when I have already done my work and have no need to be in harness.
Perhaps it is just wishful thinking, that a God's Space War code is coming in, an excuse to tappy tap my fingers on the keyboard.
We shall see what we shall see.
It is about 1620, and I don't really expect a code until about 1800 when the house is quiet and I am alone.
Waiting, in harness, I kick over old memories for things to tell you.
We are closing in on Memorial Day, but a war story does not seem to fit the feeling of today. I love my war stories. I am so happy I went to war.
A sea story perhaps? I love my sea stories. I am so happy I went to sea.
A love story perhaps? I love my love stories. I am so happy I fell in love.
A God story perhaps? I love my God stories. I am so happy God loves me.
A dog story...no...a childhood story...no...a space story...no...a womb story...yes.
I don't know about you, but I remember being in my Mother's Womb; perhaps because I had been born so many times before and I was aware of that part of life...(ah, here I am again in a womb...drifting down the lazy river watching my fingers grow).
There is a time in the womb when the womb feels like the Universe to the child, and the child feels like God within it. (Lookit! I look at my fingers and they grow! Lookit! I do nothing and cause everything! I am in my Heaven and all is right with the world.)
At a point, however, Heaven rejects the little god, and like Adam and Eve he or she is pushed out into the cruel, cruel world, expelled; and it is a little scary, and a little suffocating, but suddenly the little god is free, and its first sight is the inside tenderness of its mother's leg...and then...and then...
But let me tell you what I was about to tell you about my birth, and then I will get to the "and then...".
Just before I was born God invited me to a little party, and there was a table around which many other children in many other wombs were sitting and laughing and having a good old time; and God held up God's Finger and said, "It is time for Virgil to be born, wave goodbye everyone"; and all the children at the party waved goodbye, and I went through the scary, suffocating birth canal, and was born.
And now we come to the "and then..." of this story; and then I tasted the sweetest taste all lucky babies taste in their lifetime, their mother's milk mixed with their own saliva on their mother's nipple.
And what is this? Here comes today's code: "Nipple".
And what is this? Sweet Muse is still at battle station and not telling us her story of Tatoo and the founding of the Nipponese.
Tatoo, Part 16 (Stopped 14-2)
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire Israel will serve up, passed through the 145th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 7:12 PM
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