Tuesday, March 13, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... But not tonight

Tonight I must rest. If you are familiar with this site, you know I've only done that a handful of times. Few others post as much.


But this night is not like other nights. If you like, please leave a lengthy COMMENT. Tell us about yourself. Spin your own tale. Make it like a guest blog. PROMOTE your own sites. Step into the candlelight and speak that we might hear. Or wander through past arcs. GOOGLE THE LITTLE MATCH BOY by Billy Kravitz. That's a good one. 


And here's another site you'll enjoy..... http://www.caballoblue.com/ ....... Go ahead. Take a chance. Explore.


I'll be back..........


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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Fast Shots

Cannot forward much material tonight. Something wrong with the etherial passage connecting my parallel universe to yours. Think the phenomenon is primarily a localized event, due to all the atomic and sub-atomic discharges produced by ships and weapons maneuvering for position in the skies above the Martian capital city of Barsoom.


Citizens seek shelter in underground subway system. But unlike yours, ours rely on magna-lift technology. Mars based cannon-like projectile launchers provide cover for The Martian- America flagship, The Twenty First Century. Of course we know it's the twenty second century (here, at least), but the line began then, so they use the name.


And deep within a hidden laboratory Stinker Jones henchman study an embryo. It's a clone. But not just any clone. These cells come from Alec Texaco's nose. The only viable part of him to be recovered after a brutal 'hit.'......


So Miss Monica's husband 'survives.' Granted, if she gets him back it'll be as a wailin' little sucker. And she might not be so interested in takin' up wit' a romantic partner so much her junior. But his mama gonna want him. Miss Sissie miss that boy real bad. She do anything a have him back. She pay a whole lot a money.


Stinker not 'sactly sure how he gonna use what he got in that l'il pyrex dish, but he know he gonna use it. That is if they ever get rid a them Chinese goomers. Miz Stinker learnin' herself a eat wit' chopsticks. But it mighty hard pickin' up sauce-slathered barbecue wit' them delicate, little implements. So she just jab 'em in, like a big, ole toothpick and gnaw away. Only it purt near impossible a balance it that way. That why her pants is so dirty.


And then we got that ORANGE SKINNED BOY. Big sucker too. Got hisself a mighty handsome physicality, in an exotic kind a way. That who Miss Monica been holed up ('scuse my 'spresion) wit'. And I hear he the Tuva-Tuva pregnancy-makin' champeen a the world. You know, bein' 'the voice a the lonesome pines,' I hear lot a stuff. She seem a like him too. Big, ole Poo-Poo woman get herself out a her seat. She sneak over an' take a peek. She laugh. She giggle. False teeth fall out, but she scoop 'em up and put 'em back real fas'. Nobody see. She vane that way.


Hope that flagship get through. Hope them North American/Muscovite bastids do sumpin'.


I do not want a have to learn how to channel my thoughts in Chinese......


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