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Hello my fellow Politiores Troglodytes. This Blog is a collection of Posts, Poems, & Short Stories that I write on a daily basis. If you find it entertaining, informative, and controversial, then I have done my job properly. Thank goodness too, because Karma has been on my case of late. I'm supposed to bring fifty people into the fold or I'll have to give back the part of Einstein's brain I inherited. No, I'm not one of the Scientists who got a piece of his brain when he died. Karma said, "Eat this knowledge. It'll make you smarter!" The bargain I made with Karma was, if I could change fifty people into Politiores Populos, I would be rewarded with my very own Lamborghini. So, that's my story and I'm sticking to it! Like what you're reading, then read on. P.S. Populo is Latin for people. Politiores is Latin for educated. Troglodytes is English for troglodytes. And Einstein's brain was stolen by Thomas Stoltz Harvey after his death in 1955 and eventually divvied up into 240 pieces. If you just read that last sentence, then you have just learned something and I'm just that much closer to fulfilling my commitment to Karma!

Thursday, December 8, 2022

Do You Believe - Part Two

   I woke up the next morning rested like I haven't felt for years. Talking to myself, I commented, "Now that was a wild dream I had last night. It had to be. Probably from indigestion after eating an under cooked piece of beef I had last night."
   The rest of the day was a wonderful day. Somehow, it felt different from the usual days I've been having. Even the people I normally see on my morning walk greeted me with a hearty hello, instead of walking past me with their heads hanging down. It was so good, I almost forgot about the haunting dreams I've been having.
   That night, I got ready for bed, feeling pretty sure that those hauntings were the manifestations from leaving leftovers in my refrigerator too long and still eating them.
   I had quickly fallen to sleep, but surprise, it wasn't for long.
   "Wake up mon. We have a lot of work to do."
   "What, again?" I say, sitting up a little startled. "I thought you were a bad dream that went away. Now I have to put up with you for another night?"
   "Wow mon. Is that the gratitude I get for giving you a day of tranquility?" Bob says while toking on another joint. "Maybe I should leave."
   "Wait, wait, wait," I say worried now. "Don't leave. It was you who gave me peace of mind for a day?"
   "I can't take all the credit mon." he was saying while blowing smoke up in the air. "You had something to do with it."
   "Can you do it permanently to me, please?"
   After I asked, even I thought I was sounding a little needy, but what the heck. If it worked why not.
   "Maybe later," he said. "First, I have to explain to you the reason you were born and why you should live a full life."
   "Are we changing formats on me?" I asked. Then adding, "No longer going with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, Future are we? Going to do the George Bailey and Clarence getting his wings scenario?"
   I smiled like I knew what I was talking about, but he rolled his eyes and said, "First, stop saying ghost or ghosts. It's not very woke of you. We, in the afterlife, prefer to be called spirits. It has a comforting sound to it mon."
   I looked at him like he was nuts, then asked, "Why, what's wrong with the word ghost?"
   He just stared at me intently, not even taking a drag off his joint, waiting for me to figure it out on my own.
   He finally lifted his hand towards his lips, I assume so he could puff away, but when I opened my mouth to speak he said, "No mon, think." and stared angrily at me this time.
   After a minute I went, "Oh, because people are ghosting people. The word is now used as an ugly mean thing that people do to each other!"
   He smiled his acknowledgement, took a big long hit on his joint, and blew the smoke to engulf me again while saying, "This George and Clarence thing you were asking about has nothing to do with us. You watch too many movies mon,"Chronic Pain: Is Smoking Cannabis The Answer? - Weed Tab 
To Be Continued...

This is,
I Quit Smoking Over Twenty Years Ago
And Now It's Legal Where I Live
And Better Quality
 TwoBuckHowie

And
“You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!” - Charles Dickens -
 
That is my story and I am sticking to it!
 
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Thanks for reading
 
Be kind to everyone
 
I'll be seeing you
 
I haven't written the next part yet
so the next one will probably be posted a few days

Thanks again
 

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