#ricoSacto

Monday, March 15, 2021

#HackTheHacksHackers #MentalCase #BevisAndButthead #YoungGunsII @SinkThePink @IronButterfly @ACDC #BewareTheIdesOfMarch






#Customlink to #SinkThePink #SAMIAmAFan

----------------------------------It's Epic, So Just Skip It ----------------------------------
ON BEING THE IDES OF MARCH 2021 ANNO DOMINI, #Supernova I am, Sam!
Crease in your trousers reveal the mother's influence, the grandmother's starched collar seams
Punks on the corner never knew the feeling of getting straight A's and a cash reward from Moms
Being inside of the outside makes a big difference to the mainstream media, I report, I decided
Monkeys need more than guidance, the apes need a memory of the things themselves too, see?

Speaking of nothing, where are you going when you die?  I think you have the inside dope on it
Spill the beans and let the entire world of psychic phenomena display the meaning of this sheet
From the origin, the genesis to the final ending, drop dead gorgeous girls and handsome boys too
For the sake of ignorance & idiocy, the genome is entertaining magic spell of seeping sepsis pooh.

Everywhere you go to sit down to eat or lay down to sleep and rest is owned by Powers-That-Be
Before I got here & after I'll leave the premises of the winding roads of Valhalla & Big Apple blow
All of them lead to the identical place in space where the angels all fear to go, don't tread on me
The wrath of the wraith may surprise some who've been sheltered, where warriors & gnomes go.

Five or six senses all at One with the only idea you've inherited from the Oneness itself, rocks roll
Downhill only and settling on the ground's bottom, the arse of being on Earth, paradise of spaces
Time imaginary revolutions, spinning the Word to complete the terminal mission, transit in a hole
Black or white, red or blue makes a simple mind into a non-sequitur argument for the gods' faces.

I did not deliver or pickup the boxes, simple minds like mine only open them for Pandora & Maria
For what this is worth to Ones who have no idea what the value of knowledge is, a feckless sharia
By the way, if there's a dead man or woman whose name cannot be said, here's a Word deadman
Cocked trigger, loaded gun, ammo high & dry, powder's in a keg, Supernova?  S.A.M., I AM a fan!
by
r j j  stephan, i
c.  Lundi, The Ides Of March, 2021 Anno Domini
{  Cocked, locked and loaded for bear, 50 .cal on the bull's eye, #ShotsFired @YoungGunsDeux on youTube https://youtu.be/ylvuRp2IG-g }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
#sinkTHEpink


Sunday, March 14, 2021

@CarlosSantana 2021 A.D. #CONCERT #Ariba #Salute #WheresTheKeyNow?

 #FUEGO
#AGUA
A PHILOSOPHER DREAMED A STONE & IT TURNED TO REDBONE

I followed y'all elders deep into the interior it, a kilometer high, where wisdom rules free atoms
Nothing comes in or goes out without the knowledge of the only one that matters, it's just me
Not you or yours, I'm not so sorry to say that you've been deceived by deeper funk, azure sea
It is certain to destroy your image of Earth, subtract every drop of H2O and you too, we'll see.

It's like a monster rock without a beginning or end, no garden of paradisaical, Eden drama-domes
Ghouls and monsters under the cribs and bunk beds to make the kids grow into a battle A-drones
Ready to fight to the finish, just like the cartoons taught us in the 50's & 60's, black on white tea
Mothers mixed & fathers fixed so that not only are we ready but we're willing to fight to be free.

Certain illusions of magic are slights of hand with some fairy dust crushed into the mix, mortared
Never go back to Georgia where the sweet peaches fell far from the trees, so out carbohydrated
Lard in the bread, the tortillas and the freaky manna that falls from the welfare AFDC cloudy sky
Into the mouths of the innocent babes, mothers made by accident, git government mules to pay.

Mummies hidden for a reason, decrepit bodies of men and women, our mothers and fathers stink
Souls ain't there you bunch of little drones, grow the phuque up or become dust earlier than then
It is what they want, whomever they may be, they're both dead and alive, a secret society of jive
Depend on your mother's inseminators until they die, say what?  Sons of beaches, I sink the pink!

by
r j j  stephan, i
c.  Sunday, March 14th, 2021 Anno Domini @ 3:33 PMPST
{ Jammed out of the world's alphabetical anomaly while listenin' to @Santana #LegacyEdition #NobodyToDependOn & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/amEer__zXdE }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?

<3 NATURALLY <3

#NeverBeAndNeverNotBe #SamIAmSlammin' #GreenEggsAndHam

#FIRE
#SMOKE
 
 
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
I'LL NEVER LOSE MY TOUCH, SO ROLL WITH ME, BABY!
@LedgeOfLakeTahoe #RockWithMeBaby #RollWithItBaby #BlownMindRequired
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
MARCHING TO THE 14 STEPS, ROLLIN' WITH IT BABY!

Baked ingredients mixed into a hodge podge & menudo of the freedom wills
Fanatics baskin' in their laurels, pretending to be cool families, high foothills
Fakes & shams of the many aren't for the One, decided to be a hotsy of burns
Greed and desire are for the way leading over the cliff and there's no returns.

It'll all fall down whether you like it or not, before you know it you're all gone
In the middle of the day or the night, an imaginary spin around a block's bone
Right back where we all started, down inside of the bones of our mama, God!
If and only if this is a dream, then God is asleep and won't be #Woke hot rod!

Thinking that you exist is a joke on you and your kin, swallowed the hook too
Line and sinker were caught in the river rocks and I cut the line loose in two
My mind saw the jumping giant head and tail of a 30 pound silver rascal fish
Not on my #8 hook for long, swam away with a slam of the tail upon the dish.

Who cares that I spent the millennia rollin' with sweet honey, in the hole's Ace
In the fishing hole from Hades, where only wise men fear to go, up in my face
Been drinking, eating and smoking for 70 years and just about to tale a whirl
Startin' to lose my teeth and my touches of the soft female skin, of her soul!

The rice wasn't crispy man, the flakes weren't corn and money wasn't gold
Cash was king if you could find the paper that didn't burn, as silver or copper
Melted down to the liquid of the origin, the star stuff of the sun, our creator
Nothing would be possible without the burn, the crash was optional, Be Old!

by
r j j  stephan, i
c.  Dimanche, Marche 14th, 2021 Anno Domini
{ Drafted while jammin' to @StevieWinwood #RollWithItBaby on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/u_vkKozA8OI }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?