Ra Viking Helmet!
I phoned Brian Wilson yesterday and invited him to go to a pub where he could imbibe on the pink, sticky stuff, chew pig's faces in public and even at any time take out his false teeth and put them on top of the bar. He said he was going to church with the chimp. You can't rely on anyone.
I mention this because I am not a saintly person. I am not holy. I do not know what holy is. Occasionally, (since I am descended from a long line of murderous Scots Irish bastards) I want to don the Viking Helmet and rush around in the mental mayhem of all day drinking.
As I said before, if I can get ra bliss anybody can.
This is why the fifty something flatheids, also known as my deep dear friends, are such a pain. All you have to do is sit with the straight back and say Susquehanna to yourself. That's all I did at first. But it is evident that since they have not done any of this, they will never get ra bliss or ra ecstasy. They have wasted their entire lives. They have missed the point of existence. Which is to be happy. Or happier. Or get into non-self, emptiness and be able to dive into ra bliss at a moment's notice.
I blame it all on the severe Protestant toilet training meted out to them in those 2.4 families with no one in them. This has left the poor flatheids with iffy parental relationships, a fantastic sense of smell and a complete and utter inability for stop walking around without having their heads stuck up their arses!
This is RaBlissBlog and I'd like to say something about ra bliss! Last night I went to St Mary's Cathedral to listen to some classical music. This is the sort of thing that might happen if you've lost your Viking helmet. The view in there was fantastic. Miles away there was an alterpiece with Jesus Christ on the cross. A huge cross was hanging from the ceiling. The seats were extremely good for sitting in a half lotus and nobody noticing. Cue the music and cue the bliss. Because of the music and sometimes clapping, I was able to take the odd vase breath. I want to go back! I want to go back!
Further developments in ra bliss! Then, as Schubert's giving it laldy with the Mass in G, it's as if you're moving into new territory. Ra bliss has turned some kind of corner. Everything has expanded. The envelope, or sheath, which is sometime in front of your face, neck and chest, just went ooowwff, out there, and is now in front of your legs and knees as well. The heat or warmth is going everywhere. You're in that odd zone you sometimes go to after the exhalation, and it is comfortable to be there now. And kind of tingly. And then it seems as if you know that soon all the blisses before ... the astonishing bliss, the extraordinarily amazing bliss ... were mere childs play and now we are entering the realms of bliss beyond your wildest imaginings.
On the other hand, I might phone up Poisonous today and see if he'll go to a bar. Just after noon here and the day is but a pup! HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
3:40p.m. Brian Wilson has agreed to come to the pub in his motor. This means he will not drink. Vengeance is mine! He'll have to shut up and listen to me ranting about ra bliss for hours. Yippee!! I've been meditating all day since the last blog. Straight from the oceans of bliss into ra piss!!
8:45p.m.
Where would we be without our deep, dear friends? Sometimes when ra bliss seems to be taking us outwith the normal range, we can ask our deep dear friends for help. How wonderful it is to have even one deep, dear friend! After five or six pints of the black stuff, I closed my eyes and realised there was no point in talking to flatheids about ra bliss. They are never going to get any of ra bliss. I have decided then to go an live with the penguins who are still alive on the Unheard of and McDonald Islands and hope when I am there that the penguins will understand about ra bliss, at least more than all these flatheids do in civilisation. I'm leavin on a jet plane, don't know whem I'll be back again .... Hotboy
I mention this because I am not a saintly person. I am not holy. I do not know what holy is. Occasionally, (since I am descended from a long line of murderous Scots Irish bastards) I want to don the Viking Helmet and rush around in the mental mayhem of all day drinking.
As I said before, if I can get ra bliss anybody can.
This is why the fifty something flatheids, also known as my deep dear friends, are such a pain. All you have to do is sit with the straight back and say Susquehanna to yourself. That's all I did at first. But it is evident that since they have not done any of this, they will never get ra bliss or ra ecstasy. They have wasted their entire lives. They have missed the point of existence. Which is to be happy. Or happier. Or get into non-self, emptiness and be able to dive into ra bliss at a moment's notice.
I blame it all on the severe Protestant toilet training meted out to them in those 2.4 families with no one in them. This has left the poor flatheids with iffy parental relationships, a fantastic sense of smell and a complete and utter inability for stop walking around without having their heads stuck up their arses!
This is RaBlissBlog and I'd like to say something about ra bliss! Last night I went to St Mary's Cathedral to listen to some classical music. This is the sort of thing that might happen if you've lost your Viking helmet. The view in there was fantastic. Miles away there was an alterpiece with Jesus Christ on the cross. A huge cross was hanging from the ceiling. The seats were extremely good for sitting in a half lotus and nobody noticing. Cue the music and cue the bliss. Because of the music and sometimes clapping, I was able to take the odd vase breath. I want to go back! I want to go back!
Further developments in ra bliss! Then, as Schubert's giving it laldy with the Mass in G, it's as if you're moving into new territory. Ra bliss has turned some kind of corner. Everything has expanded. The envelope, or sheath, which is sometime in front of your face, neck and chest, just went ooowwff, out there, and is now in front of your legs and knees as well. The heat or warmth is going everywhere. You're in that odd zone you sometimes go to after the exhalation, and it is comfortable to be there now. And kind of tingly. And then it seems as if you know that soon all the blisses before ... the astonishing bliss, the extraordinarily amazing bliss ... were mere childs play and now we are entering the realms of bliss beyond your wildest imaginings.
On the other hand, I might phone up Poisonous today and see if he'll go to a bar. Just after noon here and the day is but a pup! HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
3:40p.m. Brian Wilson has agreed to come to the pub in his motor. This means he will not drink. Vengeance is mine! He'll have to shut up and listen to me ranting about ra bliss for hours. Yippee!! I've been meditating all day since the last blog. Straight from the oceans of bliss into ra piss!!
8:45p.m.
Where would we be without our deep, dear friends? Sometimes when ra bliss seems to be taking us outwith the normal range, we can ask our deep dear friends for help. How wonderful it is to have even one deep, dear friend! After five or six pints of the black stuff, I closed my eyes and realised there was no point in talking to flatheids about ra bliss. They are never going to get any of ra bliss. I have decided then to go an live with the penguins who are still alive on the Unheard of and McDonald Islands and hope when I am there that the penguins will understand about ra bliss, at least more than all these flatheids do in civilisation. I'm leavin on a jet plane, don't know whem I'll be back again .... Hotboy
posted by Hotboy at 11:54 AM
2 Comments:
hotboy, was it worth it?
I've asked the village elders to invoice me for a traditional native red carpet, for your welcome to these shores.
robmcj.
I see a volcano off the starboard bow! Hotboy
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