I have spent a life in uniform, adventuring through this muddled-up world as time passed. I've lived, loved, fallen on my face only to try again. Now, as I get older, my only regret was not writing it down. It's time to start.
Why Conspiracy Theories Take Root And Grow
I've always wondered about conspiracies and conspiracy theories as I got to adulthood and began to pay attention to the news. There's been some interesting ones, some not-so-interesting ones, and then there were the theories that seemed too far-fetched not to be entertained by them. My curiosity started with the question "how is this a thing?" In a world of many types of people, anything is possible, but I always imagined if I could see the holes in the story, then anybody could. But, they grow, like a fresh seed in the spring. Conspiracies take on a life of their own, growing from creation to adulthood, like an embryo. They can be mapped from their very beginning to their very end. They have a shelf life, much like humans in the grand scheme.
The Tragic Death It Could Have Been If We Never Met And How This Little Guy Picked Me
I have nothing against dogs, or any other pet, so don't judge by the fact that I prefer cats. They're a more independent type of pet, usually, that is, and often times are just as entertaining as any other creature we adopt for our homes. Not to mention the fact that the little things don't require fenced-in yards to run if you're too busy to always be there for a dog. That said, if people have dogs, I do realize how much fun they are but the animal has to fit the owner as much as the owner has to fit the animal.
Revolting Stories Of Sex And Disgust From A Fly On The Wall
If you have ever seen the show sex sent me to the E.R. then you know emergency rooms are prone to seeing the impossible to believe. Watching the show reminded me of some of the stories that I knew were true and some of the greats that I have heard from other credible sources. For years I was like a "Fly On The Wall," as I got to see, hear, and experience the best, worst, and bizarre of what goes on in some of America's centers of healing.
A Beautiful and Deadly Place
Ever since I can remember, I have been an avid movie buff. However, some movies make a person think, whether they want to or not. Some of my favorite movies are, like a lot of guys, from the action genre. Of those, over the past twenty-five years, there's been a string of apocalyptic movies that were, we hope, only loosely based on the real-life possibilities about our extinction. From the movie Armageddon, all the way to 2012, movie fans have gone to pay money for the privilege of enjoying cautionary tales of things to come. Perhaps none of those movies were so startling to watch as the aforementioned 2012.
Lashley's Championship Raises Questions.
Wrestling fans around the world know that the WWE Championship represents the top prize in the entire industry known as sports entertainment. Throughout the years there've been other companies come and go. The biggest competitors in the industry have arguably been the defunct World Championship Wrestling, Extreme Championship Wrestling, and the fairly new All Elite Wrestling that continues to make a name for itself acquiring high-dollar talent. World Wrestling Entertainment has been the pinnacle of sports entertainment for the past thirty years. Evolving from a smaller, regional, promotion and being helmed by Vincent Kennedy McMahon, the companies evolution to a billion-dollar business has been a true American success story. It did not happen perfectly, however. Until I heard someone mention it, I hadn't thought about this for a long time, but the WWE/WWF World Heavyweight Championship has only been held by three black performers in history.
The Covid Poem To Cheer Up To
Oh lord no, where did all the toilet paper go? People gathered in their masses, buying cleaners and disinfectants, and all the paper for their asses.
A True Life Story About Head Trauma-Concussions.
My Last Good Days It all started out like any other day. I was excited about the life I was living, loved my job, my family, and the world around me. Then came a call that sent me on a mission. It should have been simple enough. All I needed to do was check on one of the guys I was charged with watching over every day. It was the job, watching over people that needed watching. It was what I knew and I was pretty good at it, managing people in the worst days. I was even proud to wear the uniform, despite what I felt about the system and masters I served. So I took on the mission, of seeing what someone needed. That was, after all, what I was told.
I was sitting in my room, or cell, if you really want my opinion, writing in my journal. It was hard to write with the rubber ink pens the ward provided. Equally as hard, was writing anything involving any length. They are, after all, only four-inch pens so handwriting the Dead Sea Scrolls or telling my memoirs was an impossible goal to achieve. I could, however, I could write to myself or in the journal the ward provided all of the patients. This was my morning routine. Well, it would be my routine, after I do it for a while. I started working on this plan to fill my days while I suffered through the boredom of the weekend, anxiously awaiting my Monday session.