Tag: poetry

Astro Bros Episode 18

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Peaches

I lay in bed at peace.. My body was still a glow with power but my excessive violent energy was stomped down. I could relax. I lay next to Cooper who was rubbing his large hand on my backside smoking a thick cigar. My spirit was calm under his masculine care.

“Thank you.” I told him.

Cooper shook his finger at me. “No thanks required. So what was all that a few hours ago with Kang and Omarion?”

“Mr. Astro was on a case and needed a distraction to hide him as his pack brother. I provided it and then things got out of hand when I amplified their powers with my energy.”

Cooper nodded. “Did you mean any of that stuff? The words you said to Kang?”

“Of course. I love my children however Kang is twice blessed by Lightning Baby and the flame deva because of you. That’s why it got out of hand. I lost control of my emotions. Why?”

“Damn. I wish you had lied about it. The others are going to get jealous now.”

“I didn’t mean-“

Cooper held up his hand. “I know. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just expressing your love and pride of your sons. Legendary flame king. I like that. Thank you.”

“Why are you taking all this so well?”

Cooper frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? I just the best news I’ve ever had in my life along with some great sex. I’m winning at life.” He said and then his detapad buzzed on the night stand I froze.

Cooper stared at me. “I got you. Don’t worry.” He said and reached for Detapad and looked at the screen. He stared at his screen and then sent a short reply and but it back on the nightstand.

“Is it the kids?”

Cooper shook his head while rubbing my backside. “Nope. I made a mistake. Now. I know what I have to do. It’s your old slavers. They sent me an offer for you.”

“Okay. That is strange. I am an old model GEH. I thought they retired me once you bought my contract did they want to take my DNA for cloning or something else?”

Cooper shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. Just the fact they contacted me a second time today shows they’re trying to fuck me over. You felt it didn’t you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Is it about what happened today?”

Cooper nodded. “Oh sure and they’re trying to fuck me over. This isn’t out of the blue. Remember. They contacted me earlier today before we went out with the boys.. They offered me 5 Million ebs for you.. This time they offered me two GEH warrior models and 10 million ebs. What’s that sound like to you?”

Asset liquidation. Corporate takeover. esperation. Greed. War.

Cooper nodded staring at me like he could hear my thoughts. “They’ll try to kill me then they’ll come after the boys and then they’re going to try to steal you.”

“My sons? Why?!”

Cooper nodded his head but his eyes were lost in plans. “To make you come to them. That ain’t going to work though. I ain’t giving you up. I’m sorry honey I’ll have to burn em down anyone that gets in my way to fuck me over ain’t walking away.”

I nodded. “Yes. If they aim to kill my sons please burn them all.”

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Astro Bros Episode 17

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Omarion

I knew this was bound to happen again. I just wish I could have avoided.

Peaches sat with her eyes lowered and Cooper and his kid staring at us.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on meeting you.”

Largo snarled at her voice but I popped the back his head. He glared at me in surprise.

President Sergio was following us and would meet up with us soon. We needed to hide.. I got down on my knees and presented my sword to her. “Bless me mother wolf with your grace. I am on my king’s mission.”

“A distraction. I understand.” Peaches said in a soft voice.

Lightning traveled up my arm lighting the sword with power as I felt her reach her hand forward to touch my forehead first. People took notice and started making a wide space for the impromptu ceremony.

“I bless you, my son with the grace given you by the mother of the Nomads. Rise above the rest. Fight with honor. I name you Iron Endurance. You are kissed by lightning and your enduring will is like the Iron steel sword of the Heavy Metal Dragon.” She said and then put her hand on the blade of my sword.

I saw Kang come to bow to his knees to Peaches. “Mother. Bless me too. Please.”

I half wondered what Kang was on but I didn’t care. President Sergio was here looking for us trying to find us in the crowds and street traffic. I stayed bowed. Largo had caught on finally and was quiet pretending we were apart of Cooper’s group.

I glanced at Peaches. She nodded. She closed her eyes and then when she opened them lightning sparked from them. She placed her hand on Kang’s head. I felt a kick of power around her.

Shit!

“Kang. Son of Cooper the legendary Flame King of Newark.” Her voice echoed with power as elemental flames lite Kang’s body. “Kissed by lightning. The pride of the flame deva. Rise to your position. Take hold of your legacy and bring honor to blood of your noble ancestors.”

Holy shit. I was running hot and seeing lightning. Damn it. I still waited until President Sergio was gone to rise. I nodded to Peaches. “Thank you mother wolf. Be well.”

Peaches bowed. “Rise to sky Mr. Astro and take your brother with you.”

Hmm. Good idea. I needed to use up energy before I burned out and crashed. I took Largo’s hand as I did a low squat and forced the power into my legs to spring up into the sky. Up and up ignoring Largo’s screams as I landed on the top of a building and sprang again to the next to get away.

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The Craftsman

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AI image of man sitting down to write facing his laptop.

He sits at his table.

His laptop is booted up.

His note book of dreams and notes from the day before is open.

The time has arrived.

He went from his bed dreaming strange fantastical mysterious places only the mind could craft

To sitting down at his writing desk facing his instrument of craftsmanship.

He stares at the screen. It’s blank wall holds him captivated.

His timer is going. He hears his phone in the distance. He ignores and waits until he’s bored of waiting and finally puts down one word that make him relax and get to the work ahead. Two words.

FUCKING HELL!

That’s enough for today.

Finding your craft vs the crisis of the pursuit of passion

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I wrestle with this idea. More so then ever in this year I’m coming into my forties though I’ve struggled with it all my life.

In my first 25 years the questions were two.

Who am I?

&

What am I good at?

In my 40th year and it’s down to one question.

How can I leverage my craft to gain freedom?

I wasted a lot of time on wondering who I was instead of acknowledging I already knew that by the time I was sixteen. So what was the hang up?

I was obsessed with my passions and not focused on finding and perfecting a craft.

Passion

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A thing that feels good doing it that may or not yield the equal exchange of value for the time spent in the activity.

And Craft

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I speak of craft in the meaning of a trade that your obsessed with perfecting that has a benefit of a exchange of resources or money or something of value.

Art is a subjective value. Craft has a defining or definitive value a needed valuable service or produced goods.

Some times passion or art can lead to an exchange of value. What is the leading factor for passion to be turned into high value exchange?

The fuck I know.

Maybe blind luck? You never know for sure because again passion or art is subjective value or if you can brain wash people into being addicted to a certain art or medium then you can have instant value because of the dopinmine effect.

Examples:

Social media

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Music

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The list goes on.

I’m NOT interested in being a poor artist that is obsessed with the art and potential for equal exchange for value. I have a craft that has earned me money on a consistent range for me to Allocate time to the mastering of it and growth in the value it gives others and can gain from it.

Fiction writing ain’t it. So why do it? For the fans of course. For people that say they like my shit or find a value in it and mainly for my own entertainment and for someone to steal elements for their own creations.

I am a realist. I’m not the best writer/blogger. It is what it is. I have a voice and a interest in entertaining others and myself. That’s the artist side me.

The craftsman or tradesman side of me is all about getting proof that what I’m doing holds value enough for people to pay for it. I got to pay bills and I got to position myself for now and my future self.

Conclusion: I would rather be great at my craft and entertaining enough for a like for my art.

Warm Regards 

Guardiandogg

Superbowl Sunday…Yeah. Yeah. Whose excited?!

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Not much going on. Oh yeah there’s a super bowl Sunday happening in this side of the western clown world. Two teams are playing that nobody gives a fuck about and I find myself sighing for what if’s.

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My personally real thoughts are The Raven’s aren’t playing so I don’t give a damn. The Baltimore’s Ravens best team in the fucking world. Oh I don’t give a damn about football in general but if the Baltimore Raven’s are winning and playin in the Super Bowl I give a dump truck of grade A shits. But, I find this season of the American grid Iron something to off. There is something strange in the air something…

Weird.

I’m at a different point in my life where I see the bullshit everywhere now. In movies, in the news and in the face of the decade that conveys every bit of contempt I have for the rulers of the west. They won’t stop. They set this face in front of me and it conveys the depths of what is clown world. This is the face of NFL Football.

What do I have against Taylor Swift? Nothing at all. Average looking, flat chest, no ass having chick with a good work effort. It’s the fuckers that keep reminding me about this chick I didn’t give a fuck about that are my problem. It is a personal hobby of mean to live my life ignoring shit I don’t give a fuck about. I realized later in life the beauty of admitting I don’t give a fuck about certain things but there are people in this life that do. More power to you but for me but please one day acknowledge the people that don’t give a fuck about your shit or at least leave us the fuck alone about your shit.

Warm Regards

GuardianDogg

BREAKING NEWS! People are still watching the GRAMMYS.

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Why?

Anyway, the last time I gave a damn about the Grammys Alisha Keys was a new artist and had won maybe five those weird Idol Trophies. I could look it up but I honest don’t give a damn even now. I’ve heard some conversations on the innerweb’s about Jay-Z of all people with that fucking weird ass hairstyle at the award show bringing up old shit about a time many moons ago about the black & brown folks deciding to ban the elite group of music rich folks award show. Dude I couldn’t even bare to listen to him talking because of the fucking hair and the facial expression of I-don’t-give-damn and I-ain’t-shit painted on his face that had me going….

Why?

Other news is that rapper named Killer Mike being taken away in handcuffs after winning three of the Idol trophies that the rich elite folks deemed to give him for their own reasons and….

I can’t with this shit. I wasn’t even surprised when I heard the last part about Killer Mike being taken away in handcuffs. I am not surprised by anything that much these days. I’m an old fuck. I maybe jaded. I maybe just have dark sense of humor but holy shit.

I would rather watch podcast on YouTube or scratch my ass then even think about the Grammys but on the other hand this gives me the opportunity to write and shit on an old as a fuck award show.

Warm Rewards

Astro Bros Episode 10

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Omarion

“What the fuck is this? This ain’t the authority station!?” Largo said stating what we all knew.

I stared at the back of the man that faced the computer monitors. “It was a bit messy but, we finished the job.”

“A bit messy is a under statement.” The man said. “You’ll have to leave the city and head into the Outlands and take a portal to-“

“Not happening.” I said. “My brother and I did a job. We completed the job. We get paid. We move on to the next job. Me and my bro got a lot of jobs today to finish. The job was offical from the dark directory. The job was legit. Authority can take up any argument with for all I care.”

“You were a bit to good with the job.” The man said. “You caught the attention of the Kings, Kooper and the authorities in one night. They’re all hunting for you and the person that hired you. It was supposed to be a quiet job.”

“Quiet job?! When you gave us the job you never said nothing about it supposedly being a quiet job. You just said you needed somebody to get it done. You might have told us about the assassin invader bodyguard Whitehall hired to watch his back and not to mention the girl he was with just taking off when fight started and then Kooper just showing up at the club.” I said.

“What the fuck is this? O. Is this the fucker that gave us the job?” Largo demanded. “Was this a fucking set up?!”

“A set up or a test of some kind. I don’t care either way what was it? You were supposed to lead us here to kill us or some other bullshit?” I asked.

“Funny. You don’t seem the least bit afraid either way. Must be because of what that girl gave you at the club? Who was she? Some old girlfriend or model that you took for a turn?” He said in a dark humor deadpan tone of voice.

“We came up a flight of stairs to get to this room. You keep running your fucking mouth about my older sister and I’ll throw you and your fake Judge down the fucking stairs as my payment. Quit fucking with me and give my credits.”

“Judge. Give em his pay.” The man said.

I frowned as I turned to the fake Judge to see him hold out a tablet to me. I snatched it and turned it on. A red wolf head symbol appeared on the screen along with short message at the bottom. “Accepted. Blood Hound O. A and Blood Hound L. A. Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.

“Bro. What fuck is it?” Largo asked and took the the tablet to stare at the tablet. “What the fuck?! The Nomad King’s blood hounds?! What the fuck is this shit? Around set up!”

The man turned around. I stared in shock. I knew who this fucker was. Head of authority. Alpha Wolf of one the largest nomad packs in the city. One of five Kings of Newark City State..

Gino Fish.

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I want to start fake beef on the internet…

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I really do. I want to start a fake weird circus fight that just the exchange of words between opponents will be the funniest shit around or funny to me at least. I would put on my game face.

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Put on my fighting gear, weapons and then start going at it with my opponent.

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That’s the dream. I’m a hundred percent sure some dumbass is going to still think the shit is real and have me laughing even harder.

Some times fake drama and unicorn mma fights are good food for soul.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg

Astro Bros Episode 8

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Largo

Fucking hell! Kooper was here. Just fucking great. Not one fucking day off. Damn it to the nine hells and back. I turned to Omarion to get him out of the club only to see him chop the big shit house in the front, grab his arm and fold his ass on to the floor.

“Shit!”

“Largo! Get the mark.”

Whitehall was wide eyes as I threw my drink in his eyes before I punched him in the throat hard enough to end his ass quick. I got my datapad out taking a quick picture of him and sending it to our client.

Omarion was on the floor finishing off the Invader with a lightning fists to the invaders face. He got up as the bouncers came at us. Lightning Baby’s touch was on him. His right arm was touched with lightning. His gaze was directed toward where Kooper and his brats stood in the entrance. “LB gave me a job.”

I shook my head. “No way, bro.”

“You shit head nomads need to get the fuck out of here. There’s the door.”

Nomads?! Ah shit! That’s just what we didn’t need.

“Order or death. How do you plead?”

A chill went down my spine at the cold as steal words. I glanced behind over to Omarion to see a P9 Authority pistol pointed at the right side of his right temple by black leather wearing dude with dark sunglasses and dark presence.

The judge Bran Rafe stood aiming the pistol at my brother.

“Order. Request you take me in.” Omarion said.

“Granted. You and your brother are coming with me. Hands behind your back. You to Largo.”

I did as ordered but I had one thought. “How the fuck did he know my name?”

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I miss the days when Propaganda was sexy

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and entertaining.

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I grew up in the 90s when propaganda was much more creative and again way more sexy

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Think of a time when the 1980s came to a end and what was left over was a hangover and a rainbow puke color fashion sense.

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Still though the movies and television like today were filled with bullshit brainwashing that normalized a lot of the “it’s okay okay your a real winner Billy because you tried hard and got third place in the race.”

Fucking hell. The mindset of that there aren’t any real losers in life only people that didn’t win first place is the greatest psyop of my generation well that and the pussification of the men of the west.

Pussification

action verb. Diffiniction: To put a genetically XY chromosome born male in to a state whinning, crying complaining about why he isn’t winning in life or letting some chick make him her bitch.

See also form of mentality poison only known cure is the red pill to the nuts.

I got mean late in life but it has done wonders to the increase in the size of balls.

Anyway, propaganda was clever back in my generation. You young folks don’t know how fucked up you have it right now. Our writers sold us mindfucked movies with clever words, awesome cartoons and this….

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You young folks got Godsdamn stories with fuck ugly art and trash like this…

Holy fucking shit,

Thank God for the expendable movies….well 1 and 2. I don’t know about the third one.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg