~ PUMPKIN TREE APPARENT RIP-OFF ~

I did everything the pamphlet told me to do. I watered it... I gave it sunshine and healthy doses of personal warmth. I played  music to it and always spoke to it in a positive manner. However... 3 years and numerous wishes later, that pumpkin tree hadn't offered up a single piece of evidence that it was even a pumpkin tree at all! Why, it may as well have been a watermelon tree, for as many of those as it bloomed my way.

Over the years, I grew weary of the yearly hunt for the perfect pumpkin. One that had a nice shape and color, and yes, even personality plays a factor. No one enjoys angry pumpkins. Typically you only see happy pumpkins for sale. Halloween ushers in pumpkin season, and it's around then we find ourselves being emmersed in pumpkin-based sights and delights. Carvings, drawings, and all those great pumpkin jokes(there have to be some??) resurface around this time of year. Thanksgiving sees the utilization of the pumpkin in many fine foods. I like pumpkin pies. I also like sweet potato pies. Anyone with some info on how to tell the difference between a sweet potato pie and a pumpkin pie, even after biting into it--please email this knowledge to a grateful author here!

But I digress. The focus here is the very confounding tale of the pumpkin tree--that special little sapling that I so loved, or so I tried!

Well... this travelin' fellow sold me this here pumpkin tree a few years back, and he said "I guarantee it will probably  work". His "guarantee" was probably not based on any sort of fact. But he had kids in the car, and I felt sorry for them (they were sharing an Ipod, for goodness' sake... and so, I bought one of them little pumpkin trees. $ 12.95, but that included a fine red, plastic container and the ultimately useless pumpkin-pamphlet.

It took a year and a half for the plant to even produce a leaf. It may have not been a leaf at all, but could have been some sort of exotic pumpkin-fungus. At age three-ish, the poor thing was about ten feet tall, skinny, not too bushy, but robust and it began producing these sticky, sweet-smelling flowers. its leaves were dark green and jagged. But not a pumpkin, or anything remotely squash-ish was apparent. I had high hopes the summer sun would reward me with a fine pumpkin. I was very let down, and that August I finally gave up on it, and tossed it on a debris-fire I had going. So, I got rid of the "impotent" pumpkin tree... It was really green, and it took it a while to really flame on. But it got going, and boy, it was really smoky. But hell, it was on fire, after all. I thought how funny fire was sometimes. I also noticed a really funny mustard stain on my shirt. Apparently I was actually emotionally attached to that tree. I felt a bit sad, so perhaps to overcompensate, I started to laugh--at something---It sounded like someone else laughing. They were laughing exactly the way I would laugh, if faced with humor or bondage-tickling...

For some reason, burning that pumpkin tree was extremely hilarious. As I stood there gazing at the blaze, mourning possible future pumpkins, I was suddenly overcome with that uncontrollable laughter. "Pumpkin"... did I SAY that, or did I THINK it? Or did my stomach grumble it audibly? Did you ever notice how trees, illuminated by flickering flames, seem to have faces? Funny faces, and quirky hats too... Like, I saw my Uncle Carl Bob in the tree-reflections of the dancing embers. He was trying to say something to me. "Ice cream" was the only thing that came to me. I found it too funny that my Uncle Carl Bob, 13 years dead, seemed only to want to dance, and he wriggled all in the treetops, his sheer deadness protecting him from the savage heat, and probably enhancing his casual levitation. Carl Bob started laughing too, and we found that the more we laughed---well---the more we laughed.

I miss my pumpkin tree, even though it never produced a single pumpkin, not even a pumpkin-bud. The day I burned it is kind of fuzzy in my mind. But torching stuff can wear you out... I woke up four hours later in the spare-room on the futon with a plastic bowl stuck to my face, in a pool of something sticky, which smelled totally like chocolate ice-cream.
Well, I suppose the moral of this fantastic tale might be---BUYER BEWARE---or... "Don't count your pumpkins before they exist". That kind of shit will drive you out of your gourd. I hope folks have better luck with these things than I do ~

Max Raincloud

SECRET-AGENT BUGS THAT WOULD SCARE JAMES BOND, BUT HE REALLY WOULDN'T CARE : (he'd be shaken, but not stirred)

As if we didn't have enough to worry about, there is yet another threat to our security which few have stumbled upon. I am one of those stumblers. That threat now manifests itself as GIANT INSECTs ! Stop just a few seconds and then continue. Did you picture some gnarly bug crawling across the ground ? Sure you did. But there are some not quite so ordinary big scary bugs making their debut as of late. It may have been early, depending on your time-zone. These awesome arthropods do a lot more than crawl across the ground or hop among the cornstalks and weeds! James Bond would be impressed if he knew what new gadgets are available to practically anyone who can find a Radio Shack.

Recent inconsistent studies have shown that many of your average GIANT INSECTS may or may not be robotic drones that are being designed to carry everything from secret-video-thingies to dirty bombs, but probably aren't, if you want to choose sides. Actually, at any given moment in this country there are upwards of 500 active insect-drones engaged in unlawful spying and indeed, they are the first contact which leads to the final sweep, the take-down which awaits the unsuspecting perpetrator. What is typically perpetrated is admittedly, a complete mystery to me. Probably, it concerns national security, but don't quote, record, make note of, or hold me to that. IT ALWAYS concerns tons of cash. I base this not on fact, but on sheer misrepresentation of some stuff I barely remember reading, dreaming, or seeing etched on a cave-wall, or even hearing about. This for me is proof enough.

Some of the GIANT INSECTs that are on the move can mimmick friendly GIANT INSECTs. They may offer to refill your drink, or to cook you a fine meal. But once they have rid your house of all batteries (they are allergic to batteries, go figure) they will either drop a really dirty bomb in your closet, or record everything you say and do, and send it to the CIA for them to laugh about. You can't clean a dirty bomb, and you can't keep the CIA from laughing. You can throw them off a little by making strange submarine beeps into your lamps, which are probably bugged, literally, but eventually they will either wise-up or start dropping depth-charges.

GIANT INSECTs are tamed and regarded as pets in some parts of the world. They can learn to do all sorts of things, like turning on a faucet or fluffing your pillows for you.. But that's what's really so scary about the GIANT INSECTs. You can't tell a drone from a real one.

Technology is gross sometimes. What they do, and by "they" I mean I have no idea who it is ... what they do is they scrape out part of the GIANT INSECT'S brain, and replace it with nano-technology based surveillance gear or even something as simple as a drone programmed to surreptitiously eat all your Cornflakes at night, undetected, so as to slowly drive you insane wondering. But they scrape out the brains and put in the machines, creating armies of cyborg-sects. And the remote control to all these auto-sects will never be found in anyone's couch cushions.

This is breaking news, so It all may be erroneous, or manufactured out of boredom by someone I see a complete reverse of frequently. Smoke and mirrors is how "they" do it, so I too am trying to reflect on some smoldering stuff that you can choose to believe, but are best advised not to.

Two words: BUG SPRAY

But Wait! There's more! Call now, and you'll receive another lie of equal or greater value! That's two ridiculous misrepresentations
for the one-time price of $19.95, plus shipping, handling, shaking, x-raying, product substitution, and satisfaction simulation.


Not valid in any state. Employees and or relatives of employees or any cousin, friend, or US citizen are not eligible to participate in this offer, Offer void if outer obstructive wrapping is wrinkled or extensively fondled. No one under 18 years of age or above the legal age to complain will understand this. In case of a tie, a random drawing will be held excluding the initial winners and anyone who enjoyed themselves or spent more than 5 minutes trying to fill out the application. Applications will be on file for 6 months, after which time they will be deleted, and rewritten in Aramaic. Paranoia Weekly is a registered trademark of raincloud entertainment. All inquiries will be ignored if sent to our main offices at 1000 Maximus Blvd, Raleigh NC. This event is based upon fictional places and characters. Any resemblance to real or fictional nouns is purely coincidental, if not plagiarism. Service hours are Monday through Friday 9 AM to 3 PM, except on especially humid days. No pets allowed. No overnight guests without the express written permission of a priest or rabbi. No artificial sweeteners beyond this point. 12 servings per carton. Warning: The surgeon general has determined that paranoia stems from the subconscious, therefore anything said or interpreted by anyone claiming to be "way normal" will hitherto be forsaken. Not responsible for articles of clothing which burst into flames when exposed to fire. Wash hands before each use. Shake well and stumble. Batteries not required or expected in lieu of flowers or otherwise sympathetic symbolism. Visit our website at ParanoiaWeekly.com. Mix packet with croutons. Shake needlessly for 3 minutes. Uncover brain and simmer at intervals. Please turns lights off after ingesting tainted pork chops. If pork is unavailable, disregard menu and return to front office unfiltered. Please wait to be heated. Hostess will blame you, please do not return gunfire. Contest may appear closer than it actually is the nearer you are to it.

Maxed-Out

Citizen wants Personal Bailout - Also wants Clear Conscience

I guess it's no secret that nearly 210 % of Americans are unable to buy choice meats and non-generic items much anymore. I suspect something like that ole Economic Downturn. Yes, that is the simple truth behind many of our woes. The minute they turned the economy down, we heard all that disturbing background noise. We heard that lame-bankers who lost lots of money got bonuses for their inconceivable idiocy in making the banks fail. Folks, they made the BANKS fail! If I fail my vehicle inspection next week do you think I'll get a bonus for that failure? I am going to guess "no".

So now the Federal Gov't goes ahead and offers up finance reform to bolster some rig-a-ma-rag they are spewing which sounds like the truth at first, but on review exposes a multitude of fallacies. I don't know what they are, you know. I am pretty sure they aren't any type of SCUBA gear, though. It's likely another fancy word for LIES, or a kind of desert that you really crave, and you leave the gun and take the fallacies...

I think I found a loophole, but unfortunately it's made of rope. I can see light at the end of the tunnel, but as I come closer, I see that it's a homeless dude warming his hands over a can of Sterno.

All I want is to be considered for an emergency financial blankie in the form of money I don't deserve and will vanish like a boo-boo in a hurricane. I want my Personal bailout, but I think that this can they handed me is for nothing more than a "bail out the boat" maneuver.

And the YOU-KNOW-S has got me all worried about a few hundred bucks. The guy in the penthouse gets new furnishings, while folks like me get penalties, interest, and probably some nasty looks. Free of charge, of course ~

NASA/JPL Witholding Evidence of of ETs and How to make Cool Things Float...

Ever since Captain James T. Kirk uttered those immortal words... "You're making light of me because I am bipedal..." Beings across this Universe have come to know one thing thing: Funny is Funny. Conversely, certain things which certain beings may find "funny" may have terrible connotations for other beings. Just to be safe, most species have learned to think twice before calling someone else's mother a potato-sucker.

I recall an Antillion that threw an unsuspecting Qualdinite into a turbo-slicer for sitting on the Antillion's mother. In all honestly, the lady looked like a sofa~but it just goes to show you~ one being's crate of goo could just happen to be another's, well, ummm... crate-grandmother.

TO BADLY GO WHERE NO ONE HAS GONE BEFORE... OR SINCE...

~maximus

WAY TO GO EINSTEIN

It isn't a total waste of time to remind everyone of the inevitable. The earth's poles have begun their cyclic shift, as Einstein et al, entertained this concept as very possible if not likely.

Look into this. There will be a lot of increase in the turbulence upon this planet, and it will be sooner than later.

If, as many have theorized, a sudden pole shift occurred, this would align with many prophecies in that such a change would definitely reshape major portions of earth. I am currently advising people who live along the coasts of the world to either sell their homes, or flee to an inland locale well ahead of that ominous date of dates:Dec 21, 2012

The Great White Bloat

This just in: Rush Limbaugh is fairly crude. I have it on the best authority that the fat guy is finally cooking in his own grease. He is a very mean guy, and I seem to not like him at this point in history. He isn't doing so well in geography, either. He scares small children and pets, and even some conscious people of average age and height. He is opposed to health care reform because he is so strung out on Oxycontin, and his current insurance pays for either the methadone or the Oxy's, depending on which stage of recovery he is in at a given time of the calendar year. Maybe a guy doesn't necessarily think that any kind of reform would be better than the kickbacks he's getting back from the big drug companies now, if that is indeed what is going on. That would explain why someone is so against being nice and having reasonable prices for most folks. This man is simply against anything that resembles helping someone. And of course, this dude's helping himself to a big slice of the pie, and doesn't want anyone else to get a crumb.

Some people know that Limbarf is a licensed pilot. Few recall that in the summer of 1993, Rush Limbaugh was reported missing after failing to land at a Florida airport. Three days later, a remarkably thin Limbaugh came forward and dashed the hopes of several liberals. What people forget is that this person was never proven to be the real Limbaugh, and may I point to his early broadcasts about prison and how the format of his show changed after that? The one thing that authorities never seemed to care to inform the public about was where is the jet plane that he was supposed to have gotten lost in? The American people never got the facts on that. Granted, no one cared, but still, it begs the question: how can a guy get away with such misrepresentation? It truly boggles the mind, if not the entire central nervous system.

The extreme-right, bloated, radio fear-jock is pushing the envelope with his comments regarding NOT donating money to the Haiti earthquake disaster. But what has got to be noticed by even scared old ladies, and even more scared racists and social terrorists is this guy's out-of-sync sensibilities. Cancels itself out when nobody on the side of reason raises their voice in protest. The general constituency of the far right is held accountable for this line of thinking, when, by virtue of absolution through lack of protest, they show their silent support of such rancid ramblings. In other words, by not condemning the putrid words of the hatemonger-er, they stand as guilty as the assassin, not for providing the gun, but for allowing the loaded weapon to be tossed about carelessly.

Granted, it is very entertaining watching stupid people follow other stupid people into dead ends. But after a while, you get tired of watching the moths fly into the fire. You begin to wince when you hear their tiny wings sizzle. You smell the dusky aroma of death as it encircles each innocent insect. You want to scream, but the town's too small, "Have mercy."

Also, Mr Limbaugh stands convicted of playing some sort of "race card" and as you see, he is a dirty dealer. He is the one dividing us up into shades and hues. He's the man that is fanning the flames of idiocy, as they spread from one idiot to the next, eventually reaching too far, and running out of lies to catch fire and scare people with. Racism is simply fear of a specific thing, typically something unknown or misunderstood. If racism is fear, then is fear racism? In this case, the case of the bumbling Limbaugh, the answer is a resounding Yes!

I will never achieve such notoriaty as this whale of a man. I am doomed to a life of obscurity so miserable that the likes of Limbaugh will never even have the chance to make fun of it, because he will never induldge me on my quest for enlightenment. I don't care. If one person reads this and stops to think twice about screwing somebody else over, then my work has been well done. That's what it all boils down to. Greed, to a great degree, is the status quo amongst the well-to-do. I believe people have the right to get rich far beyond their needs, but I also think that if a person is blessed with a good life, it is their moral responsibility to do what the can for those less fortunate.

Limbaugh is dependant upon his legions of lemmings to trust that what he says is the truth, and that he is the voice of reason. But anyone with half the sense of the guy that's speaking can easily see that everything he says is going to be of a negative nature.

A few weeks ago, Rush Limbabble had to go to the hospital for unknown reasons. Upon leaving the hospital, again for unknown reasons, this mental-vacuum of a man said something to the effect that his experience at the place was proof that the health care system was in fine shape. He seems to lose me here. I'm pretty sure that the debate over health care has been about its availability and cost, its fairness and its accessibility to the average citizen. NOT the quality of it, you bloated fool! I am really not falling for that crap. But, you see, a lot of people are falling for this type of misrepresentation.

So now the AM radio golden-boy, the conservative's conservative... he's telling people not to give money to any charity that he hasn't personally approved, such as the White House's official Help Haiti site. He's really just doing everything he can to disagree with Obama. I imagine this is how the conversation would go:

Obama: "Black."
Rush: "White."
Obama: "White."
Rush: "Whiter."

Well, anyway, use your imagination. It's painfully obvious that Limbaggle's main aim is to toss wrenches into Obama's gears at every turn.

I had no idea this is what today's article would be about. I don't listen to Rush Limblittle's show. I get a lot of this news from the rather left of center media that I currently allow into my mental domicile. Bloat-Boy seems to make news regularly with his selfish ideas. I hear this crap whether I am into it or not, apparently. I take it as a dire warning of some sort. So, anyone who likes this guy, Limpdope, is as desperate as he is. But in times of desperation, it's the desperate people who get the goods. That is unless some bigshot radio guy tells people to not give, in which case your desperate people will get nothing.

George W. Bush has signed on with Obama, along with Clinton and just about everyone else, to call attention to the terrible situation in Haiti. Has anyone told Cigar-Boy about this? Would he condone such a thing from another hardcore right-winger? Isn't Bush, like, a right-winger? As you can see, Limbpooper has selective-criticism. He is totally dead-set on lying to his audience, and it's sad commentary that there is great number of people that give creedence to anything this guy claims is the truth, indeed it's sad that he has so many people hanging on his every word.

Limbpimple could be the Antichrist. Think about it. Mark of the beast? "Ditto". Head wound? Stay tuned... no, I don't think he's the Antichrist. The Antichrist will be someone with half a brain. Revelation had no mention of cigars, although it is a wide-held belief of many theologians that if there is a hell, there would be a lot of cigar smoke there. If you want to really go off the deep-end, anyone could be the Antichrist, but that's a degree of paranoia that even I cannot fathom. I'm pretty sure that I'm not the Antichrist, and that's all that really matters--to me, anyway.

G W Bush Act Back On The Road

DON'T FORGET WHO SCREWED YOU...

I'm liable not to have very fond memories of the eight years that passed prior to Obama being elected president. I have done nothing lately, and this includes research, but there are some people who are busy as all get out. One of these people is Dick Cheney. This rotund, former head-dwarf is currently found on all television outlets either selling the current administration short, or selling ceiling fans to short people. Many of us are aware that the former vice-president is doing this. Still, others see him often, but typically turn the channel, even if there is no TV in the room. Even an unsurprisingly smaller number of citizens confuse Cheney with Mikhail Gorbachev. It is no coincidence that Cheney's daughter, Liz is ignored even more than her bloated father. A quick review of the two Cheneys' criticisms of Obama typically results in dire boredom and unexplained coma.

Still, as bad as all that is, I would still give the prize to Cheney's former boss, G W Bush. All of a sudden, Bush is making a conscious effort to thwart the memories of regular, level-headed folks, and some air-traffic controllers. I hope he is truly sincere, and that if there is a god, that he will do what no one else will do for him--forgive him. Here we see the former Head Idiot speaking of doing something humanitarian, and climbing into an airplane headed to Haiti. Speaking of after-shocks, even Bush's greatest admirers would laugh at the notion of a giant fissure opening up in the earth and devouring the ex-president up.

I am of the belief that people can too easily forget the past. I've spent the good part of my day trying not to regurgitate, after seeing Obama share the podium with Bush, and of course Clinton was there. But all Clinton really wanted was something to stand behind, because it's a known fact that when this guy gets within 200 feet of the White House, he takes his pants off, just in case.

But I am beating around the Bush. That's what the media has been doing for a year now. No mention of G W Bush for nearly a year, and suddenly he's handing out water and condoms in Haiti. So, I am immediately suspicious of anyone who shows Bush in any good light at all or anyone who unintentionally laughs with him, and not at him.

This is the man that put the word "nu-cyu-ler" on every Jihadist's wish list. This is the guy that attacked an entire country by mistake. This dude is responsible for the entire planet hating us for again making torture an option, and for allowing his cohorts to dip their beaks in the golden well of America's coffers. This is the guy that was one pretzel-choke away from handing the United States to a guy who has more heart problems than a flaming case of valentines.

I'm hoping that people won't start thinking this guy, G W Bush, has seen the error of his ways. Remember this is the same person who said, "Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." --Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004

In my haste to say something bad about Bush, I almost forgot that there is really nothing good to say about him. So, I have dead-ended again, though I know these words may come back to haunt me. So far though, only only one spooky thing has happened, and it's been widely under-reported, but Cheney was seen feasting from a mass grave. When asked what more could a cannibal ask for, he was heard to reply, "Salt."

I rest my case, in spite of the fact that I write such things in spite of the facts. I guess I could have saved you and me a lot of time by refraining from sharing this contrite entry in my blog. It is not, however, my wish or responsibility that you enjoy or do not enjoy being led to believe something might actually be gained from indulging me on my quest. The search for enlightenment has tossed me upon many shores.

But Wait! There's more! Call now, and you'll receive another lie of equal or greater value! That's two ridiculous misrepresentations for the one-time price of $19.95, plus shipping, handling, shaking, x-raying, product substitution, and satisfaction simulation. Not valid in any state. Employees and or relatives of employees or any cousin, friend, or US citizen are not eligible to participate in this offer, Offer void if outer obstructive wrapping is wrinkled or extensively fondled. No one under 18 years of age or above the legal age to complain will understand this. In case of a tie, a random drawing will be held excluding the initial winners and anyone who enjoyed themselves or spent more than 5 minutes trying to fill out the application. Applications will be on file for 6 months, after which time they will be deleted, and rewritten in Aramaic. Paranoia Weekly is a registered trademark of raincloud entertainment. All inquiries will be ignored if sent to our main offices at 1000 Maximus Blvd, Raleigh NC. This event is based upon fictional places and characters. Any resemblance to real or fictional nouns is purely coincidental, if not plagiarism. Service hours are Monday through Friday 9 AM to 3 PM, except on especially humid days. No pets allowed. No overnight guests without the express written permission of a priest or rabbi. No artificial sweeteners beyond this point. 12 servings per carton. Warning: The surgeon general has determined that paranoia stems from the subconscious, therefore anything said or interpreted by anyone claiming to be "way normal" will hitherto be forsaken. Not responsible for articles of clothing which burst into flames when exposed to fire. Wash hands before each use. Shake well and stumble. Batteries not required or expected in lieu of flowers or otherwise sympathetic symbolism. Visit our website at ParanoiaWeekly.com. Mix packet with croutons. Shake needlessly for 3 minutes. Uncover brain and simmer at intervals. Please turns lights off after ingesting tainted pork chops. If pork is unavailable, disregard menu and return to front office unfiltered. Please wait to be heated. Hostess will blame you, please do not return gunfire. Contest may appear closer than it actually is the nearer you are to it.