Bridge

I'd like to meet:

Truth:

You need no money or looks or color to deliver peace
Smile at a stranger today, give your hand for help, ask how somebody is doing, slow down in traffic, be kind to animals, hug somebody new, really mean it when you say "Have a great day", know the universe doesn't revolve around you...there are such easy ways to begin the snowball of peace - please start before we kill us all.


Confrontation Resolution
......Way to go.....

Music:

Part One:

I'm a white kid who survived hand-me-downs, born and raised in an armpit of a town in Ohio. Our step dad at the time had bought his 8 children/step children Go-carts, 4-wheelers, and a trampoline, let me tell you; it was quite the time for us! All the kids in the neighborhood wanted to come to our house to play. We also had a goat named "Bucky" who was chained to a porcelain, overturned bathtub in the backyard, and like to drink beer from a dog bowl. We also bred Rottweilers, who lived in the garage that had built in stalls for them to romp around in. One day one of the rottweilers got loose from her doghouse chain and tore ole' bucky to bits. This was around the time of the divorce, so my step dad drug Bucky into the opening of our Go-cart path. Us kids would go back there from time to time and watch his body rot. We would say things like "ewww" and poke his carcass with sticks.

Part Two:

If I even think about how the meat I eat, once had a face; I cant eat it.

We had this little farm on the property of my first childhood home. It sat opposite to a corn field and adjacent to a cow barn. Next door, lived a nutty cat lady who had a blonde bombshell of a daughter named Barbie. Barbie would tan herself- half naked in the backyard. She was quite mysterious and was mostly "off to college". Anyway, besides the blonde next door and the cornfield, we had a cozy little farm with all the required amenities. A pop bellied pig named "Chucky" who was so agressive, he spent his life time in the abandoned chicken house and we fed him by throwing scoops of dogfood over the top of the bottem half-door.
A sheep in the broken down barn, who's name i forget. My step dad would have to shear her from time to time. One day I was watching him cut her wool, when he sliced right into her flesh and a hunk (held steady by a string of flesh) flew up showing light and dark red circled meat. He layed it back down on top of itself exclaiming "woops, that shouldnt take to long to heal."
A 1000 pound pig named Jessibelle. She would litter 15 or more piglets a time, and yours truely was the second hand in getting up at the crack of dawn to feed those hogs.
Chow dogs that we bred with the neighbor (they had dogs for breeding with, we didn't actually make the neighbor breed with the dogs). One day our largest stud was in the house and attacked my brother...who has a bad heart. He pick him up by his side and shook him violently. He has this condition where his blood cannot clot...it made it a tad nerve wracking...my step dad beat the dog, then a few days later the dog died. My brother later recovered with an extra 4-6 holes in his body. His poor chest is like war grounds.
Oh yeah, we had a horse once that was promised to me directly by my dying grandfather. It later died when we moved and left it with my step dads insane sister. It was said the poor old guy died of a broken heart (the horse...my grandfather died of lung cancer).
I didnt like feeding the pigs so much, but I did like the Duck creek way back in the cow pasture behind our house. It would flood in the spring there, and the water would come up to the house and flood the cobblestone basement. We could open the door to the thing from the kitchen, and when it flooded we could see the water starting at the fifth step.

Floods have always fascinated me, ever since.

Part Three:

So Anyway on this date 4-26-2008, I am sober Seventy (70)days straight thru. Many-a-kind may have doubted my earnestness I do not blame them.

I went to a small show last night during the celibatory "Spring Fest" on Dickson Street in Fayetteville. A sassy little lesbian out of Austin named Patrice Pike, wowed me (because I was sober) with her voal and guitar playing sensation. Folks, this is a first for your ole'girl. Fancy how the bartender even told me (for he has known me for awhile) "Its a really good thing", about my drinking as I ordered a Red Bull... Reminds me of a story that could start with... "You know your an alcoholic when...".

So, I left a little early and hooved it up the hill to where my car was parked and my footing was lighter. I did something really cool, and I didnt feel like a dork. It was simply a new outlook for me to grasp onto...and fall in love with.

Movies:

This is Frank:

(peanutbutter, bing bing, boo boo, little buger, Fa-wank, chip-chop, bug)

shes pretty cool, and listens to some of my prolbems. We hang out and go places together. She doesn't mind her gender-challenged name. She only knows how to sit, i let her get away with a lot. We're pretty tight.