Tucker Carlson got it half-right. The CIA armed the Taliban to disrupt the troops of the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. Young Russian Soldiers felt like they were in our Vietnam. and, dropped out to listen to Beatle records, and play guitars in blue jeans. I created Miriam Starfish Christling on the Beatlemania model. The U.S. spent two trillion dollars on the Bush Plan. If Al Gore had won, the world would be a much better and safer place. I would have tried the sell Al the Bohemian Bank plan, that I tried to sell Obama – and failed! We get King David Trump.
A couple of days ago I announced I am going to have Victoria Bond and Miriam Starfish get married. According to Tucker the fixation on ultra-liberal topics caused the fall of the ANTI-RELIGIOUS FANATIC FACTION in Afghanistan. Tucker is a fake religious fanatic. He knows who is audience is…….THE CRAZY AMERICAN TALIBAN!
When I wrote the Calvin Klein love scene, I wrote it for the SUPER PRIGS, Alley Valkyrie and Kim Haffner. Why these two insane women have to come off this way – needs to be studied. Where do they get the permission to force people to live – the way they want to them to live?. We will see fleeing people falling from those giant planes – in a REVERSE RAPTURE!
The West needs to invest a trillion dollars in the BOHEMIAN COSMOLOGY. We need to get our people in outdoor cafes, playing guitars and wearing Beat Bo-Ho Fashion. Evangelical Lunatics need to be – OPPRESSED – and hidden from view, along with crazy advocates for the homeless.
I blame the CHRISTIAN-RIGHT for the downfall of America, for, that is what is going down! They destroyed the democratic secular model, and the wholesale rape of women and girls is happening – on the Biblical model! The spoils of Biblical Warfare! Read your Bible and Koran.
I CREATED Starfish as the foremost Biblical Scholar = in the universe – who is not into oohy-gooey faith and believe shit – because she can prove God exists! She is also a mathematical genius. She just got into studying the Koran.
If Tucker read this blog, then he would blame it all on me, the dude who is authoring HOMO-BOND BOOKS verses HETRO-BOND BOOKS! I need more exposure. I need about eight Writer-Helpers to finish my novels and send out my movie ideas. I want to author a paper on why praying for religious solutions should be outlawed in our Constitution. Prayers don’t work when it comes to politics. Why is that? How many Christians prayed for the defeat of the Taliban – every damn day? How many pray something bad will happed to President Biden?
They say Beatlemania brought down the Iron Curtain. I will tell her that I was a Hippie Tactition that helped OUTHINK the U.S. Military, and, possibly got the attention of Rena’s ex-husband who was with the British Defense Staff – Washington in the seventies.
While the world watched in horror on Monday as the Taliban quickly unraveled 20 years worth of work in Afghanistan, Fox News, offering a semblance of normalcy, continued to do what the network does best — make outlandish and politicized claims during a moment of national reflection.
Tucker Carlson, host of Tucker Carlson Tonight, used his primetime slot to claim Afghanistan’s fall is a result of a “grotesque,” American-imposed “neoliberal program” in which “men can become pregnant” and Afghan women can serve in government roles. “It turns out that the people of Afghanistan don’t actually want gender studies symposium,” said Carlson.https://www.dianomi.com/smartads.epl?id=3533
He also purported that a swell of Afghan refugees are now coming to overrun American neighborhoods — “so first we invade, and then we’re invaded,” he said.
“The Beatles promoted a cultural revolution in the former Soviet Union that played a part in the demolition of communism in that part of the world,” said British Cold War spy and documentarian Leslie Woodhead.
The Soviet Union’s state recording agency, Melodiya, produced 200,000 copies of two Beatle records under the title ‘Hard Day’s Night’ and customers pushed into the main Melodiya store in Moscow, quickly buying them all. The album, picturing the four clean-cut Beatles in the early 1960s, went for about $10. Until now Soviets had to settle for illicit recordings of Beatle records. A hard-core group of Beatle fans stages a vigil every year at Moscow’s Lenin Hills on the anniversary of John Lennon’s murder but authorities always break it up.
Back in the USSR, the Beatles made Moscow girls scream and shout — only undercover.
The most popular band on the planet was utterly forbidden behind the Iron Curtain but Lennon and McCartney’s melodies infiltrated with the help of VOX rather than MI6.
The Royal Janitor
Starfish was in serious denial as to why she suddenly became so concerned about how her bodyguard dressed. Miriam Starfish saw her coming a mile off, and played her like Hemmingway played with his great fish. Yes, she was deeply hurt that Victoria did not accept her for who she is – even though she was acting out of jealousy. Oh how our most precious being emerges on to these faux stages. We are never more dramatic then when we know we are inventing things, making it all up. All love stories begin, thus.
“O.K. I’ll play along. I’ll be as phony as can be. I’ll go on that date, even though I just resigned myself to live like a fifteenth century Russian Monk.”
The Royal Janitor
It can be said Miriam is always experiencing mood swings, but several days after she and Victoria returned from Eugene Oregon, her mood had taken a turn for the worse.
“I hate my room. I need to be relocated. My accommodations are not austere enough. I need an environment that is more, severe.”
“Didn’t we go through this when your were hired? You saw all the rooms at Osborne, and settled on the chore girl’s room. Didn’t you measure it? Is the bed – too big?”
“Stop patronizing me. I know the story of Goldylicks.”
“That’s – locks!”
“Whatever! I have studied Osborne House. The chore girls were sluts. They didn’t last long. They got pregnant in a year. I feel like I’m living in a whore house.I’m a good Christian girl.”
“Well! Aren’t we picky. How about the boiler room?”
It was love at first sight! Miriam shrieked when she saw the old army cot.
“Is this – mine?”
“Ahh – yes. The boiler man uses it when there is boiler trouble and he has to spend the night.”
“Is he an old guy?”
“Tell him he can have my old room.”
Well, the boiler guy was not told anything, and when he came to make his weekly check on his boiler, there was Miriam laying naked on his cot staring up at the monograms on the boiler. She had an earplug in that broadcast tinny music and the news report from he crystal radio set she made. The boiler guy studied her long lithe form lit by Miriam’s kerosene lamp. A wave of jealousy swept over him. This is how he longed to live, but, then he would not find the right person to live with him. And…..there she be!
“I deserve you!” The boiler man said in a haunting voice. Miriam jumped up, and was ready to pounce. The old man saw the fire of the furnace between her long legs. her eyes were ablaze.
“Thank you. I will be going now!”
Miriam lay back down on her cot. A man had just seen her naked in Osborne House. She went back to studying the monogram, and let out a quite whimper because she was mind-blind to monograms. She could not fathom them, see the letters.
“Why?” she asked. Miriam was talking to herself, and it was noticed. Victoria summoned her to her office.
“Miriam. It has come to my attention you are talking to yourself.”
“Did that old fuck say something?”
“If you are talking about the boiler guy, he quit. You really stressed him out. I might have to ask you to wear more clothes.”
“Good! I want his job!” Miriam asked, and Victoria was relieved a fight over her dress had been avoided another day.
“You got it. No need to tell me you studied-up.”
“Did you know twenty percent of the boilers in the great estate were maintained by The Dorchester Orion Amalgamate. Union members wear the belt of Orion. The Romans commissioned them to supply wood for their baths throughout England. They are way older than the Catholic church. My menstrual cycles are affected by Orion’s Belt.
“Really!” Victoria said, and sucked in some air through her gritted teach. She was not in the mood for more strange Communist cosmologies that developed behind the Iron Curtain in the 50s. “Miriam. I think it would be best that you go out, more often. No, that was bullshit. Miriam, you need a social life. Your moods have soured. If you were a feline, I would buy a cat for you to play with. You are in need of a companion. We have found someone your age who will play with you. We do not want you hitting the pick-up bars. You don’t take rejection well.”
“Are you paying her to play with me?”
“No – yes! She’s a professional model, and, her whole life is dedicated to her craft. Models are always, on. Even when asleep.”
“How do you know she will get along with me?”
“We don’t. Thiis is why we thought it best she be on the payroll.”
“May I ask, who “we” is? Have you, and the others, been spying on me?” With that question, Miriam turned her back, but not before Miriam shot Victoria a very lethal look. Now her boss felt all the cylinders of her fury being ignited.
“Gulp! Did I just tell my deadly bodyguard I am paying someone to play with her. What kind of asshole am I? I’m – dead! I deserve to die.”
Miram gripped the handle on her desk drawer where she hept her required weapon. But, Mirriam turned, and was wearing a bright happy look!”
“What’s her name. I can’t wait to meet her! This will be so much fun!”
“Ah….Let me see!” Victoria flipped through her notes. “Her name is Barbazanya! I want you to take a week off in order to get know each other.”
“What a beautiful name! I will send you pics!”
Then one day, Nattitude announced
“Hey – look! I just got some pics of Miriam. Come look!”
Victoria rushed over feeling a pang of jealousy.
“She was supposed to be sending me pics!” Victoria gasped. “Oh my God! Is this our Miriam? She looks so – artificial! That’s Barbazanya? She’s gorgeous! What!? Miriam won a string bikini contest? I told her not to model!”
“Yeah! But, you didn’t tell her she couldn’t enter a beauty contest. You got to be specific. My thirteen years old daughter can bend light around corners.”
“Why does Barbazanya have her arm draped over Miriam’s leg? She not writing. She’s just pretending. What the?”
“Their posing.” Nattitude said. ‘They’re posing for you.”
“They want to make you jealous. How many girlfriends did you have growing up?”
“None!………What a phony!”
Nattitude cleared her throat, ever so slightly, then, put her Rubic’s Cube down on her desk. She was done figuring this one out.
“Look at that – baby face! Those are pouting baby lips! Barbazanya has taken her cute little baby to the beach wearing her baby bonnet! What is this, stuff? Who shot these pics? These aren’t selfies. This is professional eroticism for women – only! Do men look at these magazines, Nattitude? Do black women have similar magazines? Why haven’t I seen this before?”
“Hey, leave me out of this! The answers are, no, and no!” Nattitude looked at her computer screen to avoid seeing Victoria home-in on those baby bee-stung lips, that are very popular. Many women desire to own lips like this, and spend millions on plastic surgery.
“Looks like we have a hot commodity working for us! Barbazanya should be paying us!”
When Miriam got back from vacation, she was curt. She never made eye contact with her boss. Then, Miriam came to work with her underwear showing. The button on her jeans was undone. She read ‘Calvin Klein’. Fashion World had invaded the headquarters of BAD. Victoria felt her heart drop – in a deep plunge into pure jealousy. Barbazanya had done a Calvin Klein layout that was on T.V.. These were – her underwear!
You bitch……Victoria said under her crimson blush. You paid me back. You’re telling me she owns you, now! You are her little slut, now!
Miriam stood at Victoria’s desk, rubbing it in. She leaned foreword and pressed her mound of Venus against her boss’s desk.
“You wanted to ask me something?”‘
“Yes. I don’t want you walking around the office with your underwear hanging out. I understand this look is sweeping the fashion world, but, we………..”
“O.K. Anything else?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to see Barbazanya again.”
“You got it!”
The Royal Janitor
One can conclude the best thing about being in love, is contemplating – if you have fallen in love! As Victoria lie in her bed, frozen in a strange wave of eroticism, she was forced to consider if her subordinate had come onto her, made a very obvious pass at her. She could not get the sight of her Calvin Klein panties out of her mind. Victoria felt her heat transmitted though he oak desk. This was so – forbidden! But, then came her words;
“You got it!”
Victoria felt her stomach muscle constrict. She had a powerful desire to touch herself. Then she violently threw that thought aside. In it’s pace was the idea she had been seduced by a human being. This was a major move in Victoria’s chessboard. A whole new world had collided with her singular world. Instant trade agreements were now on the horizon. The idea of intimately sharing ones existence with another, had never happened to Victoria. This possibility superseded all sexual desire – and sent Victoria soaring into the cosmos! Her heart was pounding. When she realized Miriam had come to this place before her, and was waiting for her – to arrive – was beyond compare. This waiting, this, longing is a great teacher, that imparts the finest ideas, ideals we will ever know. But, this realization is cloaked in our sexual being, that we are compelled to come to terms with.
Victoria studied Miriam’s face. She had resigned herself to her fate.
Oh my God………she loves me! She has fallen in love with me. Being around Barbazanya was the preamble to the world that awaited her, that had already arrived. Is this a case of – love at first sight? Did they fall in love with each other in the first seconds of their meeting? There is my cellphone. Call her…….in the lonely boiler room!
Victoria turned on her stomach, grabbed her pillow hard, and buried her head and breasts in it. She then let out this strange sound, and raised her hips ever so slightly. Everything is possible! It is all permitted!
Victoria arrived early for work. Sitting behind her desk she could not contain herself. Soon she will be seeing Miriam’s beautiful flat abdomen, with that incredible belly button. Then she heard the sharp approach of heals coming down the hall. When she saw Miriam, she gasped, then, felt sick to her stomach.
Miriam was wearing a black skirt and white blouse buttoned to the top. She had on white socks that highlighted he clunky black nurses shoes with a thick heal. Her hair was put in a tight bun. From the side Miriam looked at Victoria. Her eyes were puffy. She had been crying. She had not slept well.
Victoria felt a powerful tingling. What have I done? She wanted to go an embrace Miriam, and reassure her, tell her…….I know. But Miriam’s superior intuition had already discovered Victoria’s secret that was just sixteen hours old. Here was the other have of the events…..when worlds collide…….that are extremely complex.
Suppressing a sob, Victoria got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. She had to pass Miriam sitting at he desk. Coming back to her desk, her hand was shaking. she was spilling coffe on the white carpet. Then……….she fainted!
The next day the gardener told Nattitude that he found a trail of clothing leading to one of the cork oaks Prince Alpert had planted. Looking up, he saw Miriam working on her tree house. She couldn’t go back to the boiler room. She had outgrown it. She had outgrown everything. Here in her tree, she could nurse, she could caress, her love for Victoria. Miriam was love sick.
Victoria was grateful she had fainted. She had dressed all wrong. Now she had a chance to run to her room, as Miriam ran to her room, crying. She had spilled coffee on her Bohemian Gypsy dress that exposed her perfectly flat abdomen. She was wearing a Spanish halter top. Did she own a pair of castanets? Ripping her work uniform off the hanger, she pulled her tight skirt up. Did she own a pair of Calvin Klien shorts for women? Digging into her drawers, she came up empty. She did find the top half of her Betty Page erotica outfit. She loved the pointed bra look that hooked many a man in the fifties and early sixties. Now she was at her mirror putting on bright red lipstick. Should she wear her pearls? No. Button her blouse to the top button matched Miriams meassage, saying their Days of Whine and Roses, was over. The truth was, they had just begun!
Coming back into the common work area, Victoria caught Miriam’s eye, and wouldn’t let go. She bent down to pick up the earring she just dropped.
“Oh, here it is. I thought I lostit!”
Nattitude watched Miriam take it all in. The days of Tight Buns and Pointed Tits had begun. Victoria had her hair in a tight bun, and, was giving her co-worker a good look at her profile. Het tits were way out to – here! Miriam had to get a bra like that. Victoria couldn’t wait for the clock to strike five s she could buy a couple pair of Calvin Kleins. She just missed Mirriam coming out of the Betty Page shop.
The sexual tension in the office that morning – was fierce! It was an erotic fencing contest between two women. Nattitude called her husband just before lunch.
“I love you darling!”
“Is anything wrong? I can tell by your voice something is going down. Are you in any danger? Shall I come over?”
“Ahhh………no!……….Are you two breaking for lunch? (click)”
Her co-workers did not hear. There ears were inflamed, engorged with blood. Both were panting like bloodhounds. Who’s going to jump on whom? It was like ‘The Battle of Britain’. The sound of the Buzz-bomb made everyone tense. As long as your heard the buzzing, everyone was safe. Their pussies, were buzzing. Have they no shame?
Then, it happened. Miriam moved down the hall to the fax room, like a great cat. Victoria took in every muscle of her glutamus maximus. Putting her hand on the doorknob, Miriam Wild Woman turned her head slowly, sand gave her boss…..The Look!
Victoria would like to think she got around her desk in a graceful manner, but, Nattitude describes it to her husband, like this;
“Have you seen videos of The Running of the Bulls? You see this dude come barreling around the corner because a bull is right on his ass. Then, when your think he’s going to get gored, the bull slips on the cobblestone! Victoria was like that bull. She knocked a bunch of shit off her desk, and tipped over the printer table. She didn’t every notice! Hardy! Har! Har!”
Natitude’s husband did not laugh, because he had heard too much office talked about Miriam, that was supposed to stay in the office. He had two nightmares about her.
What she had given Victoria was The Look of Complete Receptiveness that had repopulated the planet – many times over! One of the two have to give this look, or, we would not exist as a species. Victoria thought she would be the receptive one, due to Miriam fierce aggressiveness. The realization that she would tame the tiger, get her to raise her tail for her, was like scoring a knock-out with a upper cut. Ms. Bond had a raging boner for her beloved bodyguard.
When Victoria put her hand the knob, it was hot to the touch. Throwing the door open quickly, she shit it even more quickly. She had crossed the threshold. The fax room was filled with flames. From Miriam’s solar plexus shot these waves of blue flames that came to caress Victoria, and pull her close. Then there were these green eyes that looked at Victoria like a panther in the forest.
Panting, not able to catch her breath, Victoria let go with the agreement she had been rehearsing for four days.
“I’ll show you my Calvin Klein’s, if you show me yours?”
“We are victims of a very successful Branding campaign.” said Victoria. “Now, turn around!”
When Nattitude came to work the next day, she opened the front door, tentavly. Things were in disarray, out of place.
They done slicked up my work space!” Nattitude said with a tisk. “They done played nasty in tere!”
Victoria did not say good morning to Nattitude, because she only had eyes for Miriam, who was in the little girl’s room. Victoria had ordered a huge bouquet of flowers. Next to the vase was an envelope containing the poem she whipped out for………her lover. Instead of the sexual tension, subsiding, it was now a British Air-raid Siren that you could feel for miles,
To be continued.