Song of the day, theme song of Inspector Gadget

Yes, really. The song is a prime example of how good the music was for the cartoon shows from 90s.

The song feels like delight to the ears. It’s an interesting mix of styles of sounds and capturing how the show was supposed to be like.

Mystery. Creativity. Weirdness and just plain fun.

It’s one of those things where I watched the show just to hear that song because it’s the sound of merry-go-round flying by the seat of pants fun time. I hear and I feel an echo of my childhood self laughing at some dumb joke. I never get tired of hearing because it’s so bad it’s good for the soul.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

P. S.

Go Gadget, Go Gadget. Hot Damn!

Advertisement

Kwame Brown? The strange case of a man responding back to rich celebrity assholes that fuck with him for no reason out of nowhere.

Look the shit. I’m going to summarize.

Ex-nba dude KB gets thrown shade by celebrity ex-nba dudes on tv about his career.

KB responds back. Ex-nba dudes shit themselves and call him an angry black rambo.

Some dude on a radio show throws his hat in the conversation because reasons. He tries to “defend” KB by calling him an angry Black dude from an angry black family.

KB respond back to Radio show host by exposing Radio Show host’s past habit of doing the dirty maybe, possible with a 15 year old girl. Though there was a court case and he got off.

Anyway, the shit keeps getting deeper and deeper. Because, once again all the shit started because assholes keep fucking with KB and he just responds back.

The easiest solution is the assholes to apologize right???

Radio show host apologies. But, you know it’s one of those pet on the head apologies.

Example

“Listen dude. I was having a laugh at your family and your people and pissing on your charecter and I’m sorry you became an angry black dude about it. I’m really sorry and your a good dude. A really good dude. Sorry. We good now right?

I find the shit amazing. It’s a study in bullshit reasoning, magic nonsense logic and rich assholes trying to shit on a dude with BIG DICK ENERGY that isn’t having it.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

P.S.

Dude is young enough to be my son. I am an old fuck.

Update: He’s older then me. I am a dumbass.

Cyberpunk morning 6…

Hmm. April is almost gone. Let’s finish it with brainstorming fun. Okay. Let’s take a Nomad and rocker boy Eddie Williams and how he met, and married his old lady.

Prologue

Eddie

I lay in bed with my old lady taking a shower in the bathroom of our tour bus. It was our  twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and I wandered. I played softly on my guitar the song she liked while I heard her start to sing the lyrics from the shower.

I closed my eyes.

It had been in a dive on the outskirts of Newark near the border of the nomadic lands. One of our opening gigs sense we parted with the college of bards and started out on the streets.

The crowd was rowdy and fights were going on around us. The first song bombed hard and we were about to get stoned to death by the crowd throwing beer bottles at us to the chicken wire stage we stood behind.

I saw two chicks walk in with two big ass nomadic assholes with swords at their backs. Shit. Samari nomads. What the fuck?

One of the chickas a raven haired Betty with lavender eyes caught my gaze and froze in mid step. She had some type of latent magic in her that lite the fire in the magic of my bardic tongue.

Damn. I felt the jult to my soul and I started singing. The magic taking hold of me.

“There she is. There she is. There ain’t nobody like her at all. There she is. My one true love.”

My band mates caught on to feel of the magic and soon the melody took hold and they grooved into it.

I stared at her not caring that she might be some fuckers mate or wife. I was going to have her. It was partly my own ego in the shit but it was her bad ass bitch command for my attention. She captured my notice. As her big brick shit house of man noticed me macking on his girl and came at me sword swinging.

Fucked broke through chicken wire. The crowd instead of fleeing cheered expecting a blood bath.

My band mates took off for our van. I ran forward past the dude, dodging his buddy and taking the girl over my shoulder and booking it.

It hadn’t been a smart move but damn it hadn’t the right move. I found out later that night her name when got hitched nomad tradition. Vowing loyalty to each other in front of her friends and family a life of travel and adventure with loyalty and family binding us to the road.

I felt a kiss on my lips and opened my eyes to see my raven haired beauty naked in front of me smiling.

“Hey, Lovie. You thinking about me?” My woman asked.

“Sure enough Betty Lee. Today all day I’ve been thinking about you.” I said and then put my guitar aside to take her into our bed and make love to her.

Hmm. Romantic bullshit aside. I like it.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

Why you should Brainstorm or try shit out in fiction (writing craft)

It’s an excuse to write without having everything figured out. Fear has no room in a writer’s head or hesitate fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You have a thought but no story. You an idea but no main charecter. I brainstorm on the blog occasionally to show you have to just start. Fuck the fear and uncertainty. Start anywhere and sow the shit together in place later in editing and rewrites.

Real talk. I’ve read enough books, articles and poetry and don’t give a fuck if you or anybody thinks it’s shit. I know it’s shit but I go with it and let it pour out of my mind into reality and now a days I enjoy turning shit into gold my dude.

Hot damn! What a time to be alive.

I lived long enough to get here. Writing is magical, thoughtful and amazing. I enjoy every bit of it. The humility and the surprises along the way. It’s worth being a fool or a miss spelled word or missing word here or several places. If by one word at a time I can get better at this shit then I was in January it’s worth the minor humilating moments.

I want to get good at this shit. That’s my goal. I want to get good my dude and I want to read the stories or poetry in my head before I lose them in a sea of other stories already capturing my attention.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

Blackpillers are weird strain of assholes

Blackpillers are a recent discovery for me. Me being an old fuck I can remember when there was just two pills.

Blue pill.  Hmm. Blue balls. Beta bitch simp. Hmmm. Anyway, their the assholes that know the bullshit we’re told on tv and by people in our own tribes about the simplicity of life being democratic vs Republicans is a lie but they choose to believe the lie and force simps to comply with the lie.

Red Pill. Hmm. Red Bull. Red blooded American. Shit kicking cow boy. Bad ass. They are the people that would rather prepare for the shit storm then trust that everything is going to alright. The walking corpse in the lucked down prison house has everything under control. Red Pillers say fuck you I’m buying a gun and making my own fucking bullets.

Now we come to the Jokers.

Black Pillers. Merchants of despair. Jokers that just want to watch the world burn and blame females for it. Whinners. Complainers. Fuckers that would rather watch their house burn down with their family inside then stop laughing about it and put the fucking fire out.

Honestly though they have a real solution to the problems in the west.

1. Let it burn. (Not the song)

2. Fuck females don’t marry them.

4. Buy a motorcycle

5. Be an asshole.

6. Whin like a bitch without crying of course.

7. Laugh at the madness.

Hmm. Fuck um and their rules of despair and uselessness. At least Blue Pillers are fun to fuck with Black Pillers remind me of….

A fucking Boomer that complains about his ex-wife cheating on him after the fact for twenty years and tells other young men not to marry or have kids because all most ALL females are all monsters out to destroy your soul.

You know whose to blame for the current shit we men of the west face?

Fucking Boomers and Beta Bitch Simps.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

A message to readers: Always remember if I’m bullshiting it’s only to make you smile

Let me say this again.

If I’m bullshiting it’s only to make you smile or God willing laugh at my silly ass.

We go through a lot of bullshit to feed our family’s to better ourselves and gain more opportunities to get ahead of the coming shit storm.

I’m not trying to add to the shit you have to carry. I’m trying make the shit bearable to lift and maybe bench press for fun.

I got one thing I can do well in the weirdest times of my life. I can weave some light delight out of a streaming hill of bullshit.

I am a bard of sorrowful stories who vaps depression with taste of cutton candy blueberry cream delight.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

I’m An American Highlander so it goes without question I am not a passive non violent modern pussy

I remembered the moment I knew what the fuck my moral codes were when I was reading a book some twenty or thirty years ago and I thought yeah. I would kill that bitch if he tried to rape my wife.

I don’t remember the title it was to damn long ago.

Let me start from the beginning. I was reading a book from the library about a Christian community making it’s way through the west in the 1800s. They were way laid by outlaws. The women raped and the men killed. There was one soul survivor. A young woman  Claire. A native American man, Hank rescued her and married (claimed) her while helping her get home to her people. They go through some real shit together and he teaches her the realities of the evil of mankind and what’s worth fighting for.

They meet up again with another branch of the outlaws as they are about to murder Claire’s remaining kin and have captured her and forced her husband out. They give Hank the work and are about to kill him in front of her. Her male cousins and the rest of the group ain’t doing shit to help Hank or stop it. Their pussies and don’t believe in any kind of violence.

Claire ain’t having that shit and she being a righteous christian knows her duty. The outlaws ignore her and think she ain’t doing shit. She grabs a gun from an outlaw and shoots the fucker that was about to murder her husband in the head. A short fight takes place between her and the outlaw leader and she shots the outlaw leader’s knee out and holds the leader hostage with a shot gun to his head.

Everybody freezes. They know what’s up. Claire stares um down.

“Let my husband go you evil mother fuckers or your fucking leader is about to lose his fucking head.”

Holy shit. That was sexy ass shit. My dude. Give me a female that got your fucking back when you ain’t looking and will protect your children with a forty-five and a shot gun. That’s some sexy ass shit my dude.

Hank is busted and bleeding from his nose and eyes but he gets to his feet and snags a pistol from one of the outlaws and backs her up. Claire got that shit done and I paused in reading this story of fine art fiction. That shit shook me.

I thought. Yeah. I would do the same damn thing. I would kill any fucker that tried to rape/kill my female or kill my child in front of me without question. Any dude that would hesitate or think me weird for saying the shit. My answer for them would be…

Go fuck yourself.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

That time I took a fencing class…

It was the turn of the century the beginning of a new decade. It was a time when the globe wars were in their infancy and the stable of GOP war hoes were in charge at the promission of cocain pimp Democrats.

It was the age of Bush and Dick.

In fall of a few years from when the war drums for 911 were sounded I took a class in the art and combat of fencing. A dream of mean for many years in my childhood. When I watched endless seasons of the Highlander and saw many a movie never was realizing I was taken the steps into my own legacy.

A tiny elf of undetermined years was my teacher in group of twenty nobles and high and low born. Her name was Lady S. Her silver blond hair glowed under the gym lights she only smiled a few times and had a scratchy voice of an ancient one of wisdom.

We were given school helmets and armor.  Foils would be our weapons for first of three. Foil, Epee and Saber.

We were instructed in the rules in general and warm ups. Foils have their own style and history as do many blades. The Saber came to be my favorite though I was mid way learner at best.

The weeks followed and pasted into spring. Out of the bunch two Black Rambos rained Supreme of us all in the three sword styles. We had a stage of combat and point of face off. The rules were simple but the strategy and exercise was intense.

Lancelot and John the good of Forest Park cousins from the house brovido.

The time came for the ending of the season. Lady S was old school of course so she told us that top grade of the class would go only to one. The winner of the final test. A tournament of styles.

We matched blades in sword styles of our choices. I beat three of my fellow students but was bested by Lancelot. Then came time for the final match. Lancelot faced off against his own blood John the good in a one on one match best out of three.

They’re blades clicked and smacked against each other and then it ended with one smack. John the good won by one point.

To celebrate Lady S ended the class in one last event a free brawl for all. What the fucking hell is that you might ask.

We started facing against each other swords banging and two on three combatants at a time. Some black rambo asshole kept coming up behind me and smacking the back of my helmet with his saber and that was the end my of trainning in the sword. I didn’t get to take off any heads that day but it was a fun time.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

Where’s the bullshit? The game not on consoles

I don’t mean to do it. It just comes to me sometimes when I hear an absolute statement or someone’s trying to sell me something.

That’s nice but where’s the bullshit?

I don’t watch the news or listen to a politician speak on what they’re planning or whose the “real” enemy because automatically I find myself thinking.

Okay. Now where’s the bullshit?

Because I know humans in general do a lot of bullshiting. You can only trust someone completely when they’re telling you who they are.

Example. Ben Shaprio. I remember watching the Rubin Report long time ago. It was an early interview. Where Dave talked with Shaprio about his personal political beliefs and what matters to him.

Shaprio was open and honest about his classical Liberal beliefs and of course he points out that he is a jew a number of times on the show.

He talks about being jewish a lot. So I know two things. He is a classical Liberal (whatever the hell that means now a days) and he cares strongly about being a jew and America protecting Israel and fighting against Israel’s enemies. He values his Jewishness as he should it’s his heritage and he is a citizen of Israel of course.

What struck me was how nakedly honest he was about being a liberal. Of course he wouldn’t say I am a liberal blue dog. He has a wife and kids to feed and asses to kiss. His whole stick is being a bullshit artist for the GOP stable of Hoes. But, that’s what he is from his own lips.

We all bullshit. When someone tells you trust me this is exactly what’s going on or your silly or dumb for thinking something else.

My questions are. Why do you give a fuck? Are you paying my fucking bills, bitch?

And…

Where’s the bullshit?

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

What the hell is MGTOW? Part 1 the argument and the bullshit

Men going their own way. Everything is in the name and yet face value what the hell does that name mean?

MGTOW for the few not in the know is a movement about it’s about men being unsatisfied with the current generation of the west in it’s treatment of men in law and society. There is a conflict between men being treated like shit and females having a superior role in some aspects over males.

Their right.

A post modern western female has the first and final say on children being born and they a higher advantage in court in matters of divorce. The American government as one example acts as a go between in family dynamics and has acted in acting fucking up generations of Americans. The risk for a man in getting married is high. The risk for a female is low and more profitable.

Yep.. there is a lot of conflict and opposition in thinking about marrying or even having children in the west.

Conflict and opposition. For some reason those two words make me taste cotton candy in my mouth.

Anway, MGTOW proponents then choose not to march to that tune of society and go their own way.

What way is that? Well for the most part it’s whoring and buying a motorcycle.

Sure there are videos, articles and books about going out and finding your “purpose” and making the money so you can buy a big house to bang hot chickas in or funny videos about men being real in front of females and them being shocked and offended. That’s it.

Hmm. Now what brings this up? I’ve seen MGTOW videos in passing and videos by males that carry that same tune. I couldn’t place it at first but there’s always been something about MGTOW that has made me ignore it or find it slightly annoying or funny.

Yeah. Funny. I found MGTOW very funny yesterday when I realized what was bothering me about the whole movement to somewhere I would never go. I like motorcycles but fucking random western woman that are against me on some basic fundamental level never was my thing.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it often again. Life is conflict. Conflict is the air we breath. It is the water we swim in.

It’s not my saying but it is one I take to heart.

There is no conflict in being a MGTOW. It is for the most part selfish living and whoring. That’s not a movement that’s a Los Vegas vacation.

Hey if that’s what you want to do? You’ve already left the ring before the round began. You don’t get the Chad belt for banging a hocker at a expansive hotel instead of challenging a rival in war for your society for this shit will proceed for the next a hundred years.

No my dude. Call it what it is. You just walked away from a fight because the other guy appeared stronger then you. This is the west. You can be a whore but not the Chad.

There is a lot of bullshit in MGTOW. I just find interesting.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

You know I thought Black History month was in January that’s how much I didn’t give a damn

I really did my dude. I really did and still do don’t care. I remember when I did care. It was when I was younger. My black power princess mother cared alot about that shit.

I remembered having to watch Roots on tv and Rosewood at the movies because someone asked me about Slavery when I was eleven and I really did not give a shit to give a thoughtful answer.

My black power princess mother was pissed off at me and I got earful of how much a dumb ass I was about not knowing about shit I didn’t care about in a nice way.

It became her quest to get me educated. From the movies we watched to books I was made to read. I hated the shit for the most part.

I liked Malcom X and read a bit of his autobiography and I saw the movie. MLK. Yep. I’ll get to him later.

I read the learning tree when I was in college. It was a interesting read. I got that shit. I could relate some what to that character of the book.

Martin Luther King Jr. I read a book about him when I was a kid. Everything you need to know about This person kind of book. It told me everything and more some about the MLK’s life you wanted to know, didn’t know and that was not so flattering to know. That shit was raw facts and no bullshit edition.

You got to understand. I’m a realist and a highlander. There are very few black people I respect personally. Real talk.

MLK. If he were alive today I wouldn’t go to same church as him my dude. Real talk. Everything about him is counter to me and my own beliefs. We skin cousins if that and nothing more. I can’t relate to him on any level.

I keep the shit to myself but I’m telling you so keep it a secret. Some of my skin folks and a few blue haired dumbass folk worship the dude. I’m talking bow down to his statutes my dude and memorize his speeches and all like bible verses.

Naw my dude. Miss me with that. I didn’t even worship my own black Rambo daddy my dude. He was a real one.

I respected Malcom X as a real one. His story was interesting and inspiring in a way but I use respect in a general sense based on what I know of how he carried himself. I didn’t know him. I know of him. The people I respect on a personal level are the people I know and who’ve earned it. I don’t give away respect to anybody. I don’t give a damn who you are. You can earn it and you can lose it by how you carry yourself and how you treat me and how you keep it real.

I’m a highlander so I don’t care that much about a month in the span of human history. It is funny though. What people choose to remember and what choose to ignore.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg