Most Contemptuous Duo Ever. Greed, Vanity, Violent Speech, Wanton Displays Of Gratuitous Sex, Arrogance,

Yep, you do!

To whoever reads this… I am currently sending you love. You deserve it. Always.

While the woman and her outfit are the loci of the frame, I'm more intrigued by the cotton ball floofy table to her right... what is going on with that? And who thought that was a good idea?

femmeblk

That IS sexy. I love a woman with a brilliant, GOTCHA sense of humor. Sexy as fu**.

It's the little things that matter sometimes...

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I find it amusing that Volodymyr Zelenskyy is an actor by trade. Did that make him the Ronald Reagan of Ukraine? Seriously, you just can't make this stuff up...

And one of his better known films, a rom-com, is titled "No Love in the City" (2009). In terms of how Russian combatants must feel these days, I think the title of the film sums up the general consensus of the citizenry in Kyiv.

Love it!

Dark

A pseudo-wisdom I heard many years ago says that, "You can pick your nose, and you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friends' noses." This photo is strong evidence to refute that...

The Three Stooges

Death is on the move, greenlighted by the government in all its infinite, unwavering wisdom and intelligence. Remember: you can run, but you can't hide... Actually, you can just walk and you're probably elude these stormtroopers. Tip: just head for some stairs...

You know you are all-in with the game when you're still trying to hit it on top of a sarcophagus. That's legendary status right there, folks.

Been away for a few days/nights, sorting out the grain from the chaff. And by God's grace and love, I've been successful...

And just when I thought the gifts couldn't get richer, I found a poem come flowing out tonight. It may read as a sadness, but read deeper, because there's love and the anticipation of a love that holds the salvation one man, this man, sought. That salvation was delivered to me by Providence, and this poem marks the time it took me to come to this revelation...

1:

Red cirrus swipes against blue canvas

The colors should grasp my voice and send it heavenward, but I can't... just can't

Birds alight like dreams upon my head, shoulders

They wheedle me for a song to join theirs...

But I can't... just can't...

A child laughs and invites me into her otherwise private joke at the ridiculous world of ridiculous grown-ups...

I smile, and, for that briefest of explosions from the canyons of my yesterdays, I want to join her. Join her and force my wild laughter to Heaven's gate... but I can't... just can't...

A friend died today, or maybe a century ago, but it feels like every second he's there, then not...

And before tears can own me, I remember his jokes about living, dying, soaring, searing and God, and I want to laugh... but I can't... just can't...

I sit on the quiet bench among heavy skies, and I know, now, the reason for my can'ts...

I can't until there's you to show me I can...

Postscript:

God gave me HER, as undeserving as I was for all my years, and she shines a light dipped in God's lustrous Waters, a light that guides me in Stygian nights and stormswept days. And I decry my unending gratitude for God's gift of her. Amen.