the story of bobby bradysmith

you see bobby bradysmith is a little cool kid, but he was having a few problems

you see he had childhood schitzophrenia and said he was every star on the television

driving his family mad, and bobby screamed to his dad, why doesn’t anyone like me,

is it because i was mental and his dad started to get really worried, and decided to change his ways

but the other kids didn’t want this, you see they had fun with bobby, ya know teasing him

and bullying him, ya know the whole thing, and one kid named rodney spalms went up to

bobby and said, what’s that your like us, and bobby was really hyped up, saying, i am really one of you

and he said, yeah, as long as you don’t get in our way, you will be one of us, and bobby was happy

but unaware, what he meant by get in our way, but bobby decided to not worry about that while he was young

and decided to go home and watch all the television shows and black beauty and even icarly were two shows

he actually liked, and every time he went to the shopping mall, the young dudes said, whats that bobby, your like us

and even the rougher boys, and hooligans said, yeah yeah yeah, your like us, as long as you don’t get in our way

and rodney wanted to stay at home, as he turned off treating bobby like his kind because he was getting bashed up for it

which wasn’t  really bugging bobby, but still he heard rodney say these simple words, what’s that, your like us, about 100 times

and as bobby’s hormones were going wild, you see with the schitzophrenia in his system, his ***** erected looking at kids legs,

and i mean kids younger than him, well, this felt normal for bobby as his father was married to a younger woman, like all the men

in his family, but bobby was really getting a buzz asking the kid to come to him and grabbing his mouth and then looked at his legs

saying, he was the cool kid now and it happened again and again and bobby was a bully, making mothers and fathers mad, as soon

as their kids were grabbed by bobby, they ran to their parents and parents tore strips of bobby, and still he heard rodney’s voice saying

what’s that your like us, which made bobby grab a few kids at school as well as grabbing a few on their way to school, but still rodney said

what’s that your like us, me and you can be two bullies, bobby, how does that feel, and bobby was getting a buzz, going to the shopping mall

attempting to grab a few more kids, scaring them half to death, making men say, LEAVE MY SON ALONE ****, and bobby said neh,

and then he heard rodney saying, what’s that your like us, your not a mans kid bobby, i am going to get the whole mall crowd to tease you

if you keep it up, but your still like us, rodney said to bobby, as rodney rode his bike saying, you sit in there woosey bobby, your not a bully

or kidnapper, and if you keep it up, you will get prisoners saying what’s that your like us, and i will have power over your mind, to confuse you, ****-face

you see rodney will use his religious powers to make each prisoner say, what’s that your like us, but bobby’s father disagreed with this

and tried to get bobby into jobs he hates, to get his mind of kidnapping, but that only made it worst for bobby, because he lost his job and

took off to the fruit market and tied one 11 year old up to the toilet, now, bobby was scared, so he let him go, instead of leaving the kid there

to squirm, and he still heard rodney say, what’s that your like us, but really rodney hated him doing this to all the kids, and befriended him right away

and bobby only spent a weekend in the lock up, and got out of his jail sentence and placed on a psychiatric order, and he had to see a probation officer

and bobby was relieved and was ready to hear rodney say, what’s that your like us, but it faded away, and people said, instead, i am going to get you back,

for what you did to the kids, and this made bobby very scared, because, the reason why he committed these horrible offences, was because he had

schitzophrenia, which developed into adult schitzophrenia, and made bobby get bullied on the street and then go home and take it out on, his poor

old mum and dad, and bobby was thinking this was a game, but his parents wanted bobby locked away, because bobby’s dad spoke up for bobby in court

and still bobby to his dad, wasn’t very grateful, and fighting with them, every blasted day, and bobby wasn’t winning this battle, so he decided to do some

volunteer work at st vincent de paul, where he met francine, who was a really good helper and also has the gift to make anyone a good helper and bobby

started work there emptying the clothing bins and other man like jobs and then bobby asked francine, as christmas was fast approaching and bobby wanted to

apoligize to the city for his schitzophrenic behaviour of the past, by playing santa claus in the st vincent de paul, and showing kids he was a nice santa, well

a few kids told bobby he was a fake santa, and the mall santa was much better, but bobby’s medication made him handle that with care, and after 2 years

because the medication was making bobby nice to kids as santa claus, rodney’s voice was coming back in his head saying, i am very impressed with you bobby

you know playing santa to test you out, what’s that your like us now man, and bobby was handing a sweet to an older kid, and he said, i don’t want a lolly, i am an

older kid, i don’t believe in santa, and rodney’s voice was giving bobby delusions, which didn’t stop him from being santa, actually he went out on the street

and murdered a cat, and when the police caught bobby, his parents said, send him to the psych ward, and as bobby entered the psych ward, bobby immediately

thought, this was the gateway to heaven, and then rodney’s voice entered his head, saying, i am not mucking with the crazy person, and this made bobby scream

to get out of the psych ward, every time his parents left, and when bobby got out, he had delusions that there was a money tree on the internet, and the way

to get more money, is download a money tree fertiliser and also booked himself on a private jet to the USA, and every time he saw a crime or bad weather

he would write I WANT TO GIVE $456 TO SAVE THE WHALES, or something like that, and he started to get better and went back to vinnies to work

and play santa at the end of the year, this was something that bobby looked forward to playing santa every year, but bobby’s medication was forcing him

to look up to space, and being santa and going down to the coast was his only things he liked, and then in 2007, bobby started working at graythorne village

a place for the disadvantaged to live, and still played santa, actually, bobby took holiday leave to play santa at christmas to make the kids happy and then

in 2009, bobby got sick of this looking up, as his job prospects were going places, and asked the psychiatrist, and in about 3 weeks, they changed his medication

and the medication was giving bobby energy to run and at the end of the year, be a fit santa claus, and then a new boss came at st vincent de paul, and after

all the fun of getting kids photos, sitting on his lap, the new boss wanted to change so much, so bobby gave up his santa claus gig, and later on lost his job

in 2013, because he was losing his cool streak, he enjoyed playing santa, he enjoyed helping at graythorne village, and rodney’s voice came back in his head

saying what’s that your a crazy person, what’s that your a crazy person, and bobby yelled at rodney’s voice, on the side of the cars, and then bobby found another way

to keep sane, and that was write, write and more writing to make him feel cool, and now bobby goes to poetry slams and writing groups and theatre acting courses

bobby might not have a job at present, but the writing, stops him from straying from family life,

I AM BOBBY, HE IS BASED ON MY LIFE

Everybody thinks Bobby stays in bed all day and that he does absolutely nothing. “Indolence in human form” is what they call him. In reality Bobby ponders one of life’s greatest mysteries day and night, he’s a student of being. “I Don’t fear A.I. rebellion” Bobby tells himself as he reflects on the futile and expedient nature of subjectivity. After many months of wrestling the behemoth that is Nihilism Bobby concluded that there was no intrinsic value to anything and that there was no reason to do anything. “You can’t derive an is from an ought” Bobby thought to himself. In that moment Bobby reached a new epiphany. There is no way of valuing anything in an objective manner, so therefore he couldn’t construct a dominance hierarchy of personal values, and thus he couldn’t justify getting out of bed or do anything for that matter. Bobby had justified his laziness.

Bobby never stopped thinking, Bobby wondered whether or not he should keep on existing. Since there was no objective value to anything, that, in turn meant that he had no value either. Bobby, human as he was, he was a rational man first. He wasn’t bothered by his own otiose nature. With this is mind he started to entertain a new thought. “Does a rational man choose to not exist?” Bobby thought to himself after pondering on subjective value. “Subjective value is our only hope for justifying existence!” Bobby exclaimed to his ceiling in his dim-lit basement room.

Rational as he was, Bobby still liked existing, it was something he never managed to explain. Apathetic in nature, he still felt a desire to be. The dichotomy he had become felt annoyingly quintessential. How could he, a rational man, not shake such irrational thoughts. After staring at his feet for some minutes he bequeathed himself to his human nature. “I’m but a talking monkey” he sighed.

Now a wiser man, Bobby shifted his philosophical gaze. He reasoned subjectivity, how could he maximize his experience, the only thing with potential for true, albeit subjective, value. “What stands atop the dominance hierarchy of subjective value?” Bobby wondered. After many journeys to the depths of his Being Bobby realized that love was the highest value. “What else is a better antidote to the chaos of consciousness?” Bobby asked aloud as if he wasn’t alone in his basement.

Other humans, Bobby knew they existed, but he never really spoke much with them. There was this one man he once knew though, Will was his name. Will was an odd fellow. Even though he didn’t owe someone a single thing, he would still always help everyone. “There’s a natural law of karma” is what he would always say. As Bobby recounts the memories of Will he starts to question the irrational nature of karma. “Is karma measurable by science?” Bobby blurts out as he stretches himself out in his dusty bed. “All human processes can be calculated, granted we posses a powerful enough calculator.” Bobby said as he muffled his mouth with a pillow. Bobby considered his own proposition and after some minutes he yelled “If all can be calculated, then so can emotional in- and outputs!” as if he was standing in front of an audience. Bobby came to the conclusion that if those values could be measured then karma would be a mathematically substantiated concept. This thought made Bobby’s heart beat just a bit faster, but only just a bit.

Sleep was something not even Bobby could be too lazy to do. Bobby had passed out for some minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell. When he woke his mind wandered back to his unfinished mental quest. “How to maximize the amount of love in my subjective experience?” Bobby groggily said. He widened his eyes, “eureka!” he screamed. Will, he himself, and all of humanity were all connected, socially. When Bobby realized this he quickly reached his next conclusion. If he wanted to maximize his own subjective experience then he needed to maximize his output of the highest subjective value, love. Karma was a natural law after all, a mathematical one. Being yet wiser again Bobby started to ponder the ways of love.

“The more I love, the more subjectively pleased I become.” Bobby thought to himself as he adored his human nature. Now that he had found a rational way for value, albeit still subjective in nature, Bobby smiled. He knew that, although there was no intrinsic objective value in anything, there was still value in subjecting himself to his consciousness. “It makes me feel good, so why not.” he said victoriously.  Armed with karma Bobby ventured out from underneath his house. The sunlight on his skin made his sense tingle, for the first time in decades Bobby felt alive. People were shocked when they saw the once indolent man indolent no more.

Over the coming years Bobby had changed and the people with him. Bobby had become a pillar of support for his community, spreading his years of indolently bred wisdom. The people had started to call him Wise Bob. Now with Wise Bob’s stultifying lethargic behavior gone the people followed his lead by example. Wise Bob was no leader though, he was still but a student of being, but with a slightly larger Being. “Not wise enough.” he told one of his many friends. Wise Bob still felt his objective insignificance in his heart, but no longer as a nihilistic threat. His futility gave him meaning. Bringing order to the chaos of consciousness gave him responsibility and thus meaning. This meaning made his life worth living. “The collective human condition will fight off our dragons.” Bobby professed.

Bobby was a rational man, but a man still.

As I told you already that I was Graeme Thorne in the 1950s and apart from the fact I was him for just 8 years, I had a best friend named bobby Francis who was a very ***** fellow, well back then so was I
Bobby had a teenage crush on dody Stephens who sang pink shoe laces which was bobby's fave song and I, as Graeme Thorne thought yeah she is cute and bobby bought her album over to my house and you could hear his voice twanging with the words pink shoelaces and then in 1959 bobby bought pink shoelaces which caused a bit of shock for teachers at old scots college and Greame Thorne who was me said it looks weird that my mate is wearing pink shoe laces
But bobby couldn't give a flying **** about what people were saying about him
Just listen or try and get the memory of him singing
Tan shoes and pink shoelaces
A polka dot vest hey man oh man tan shoes with pink shoelaces and a big panamol
With a purple hat band and my friend bobby sang that with the same twang as dodi Stephens
Which could be the reason why
Bobby is having a tween crush on an older 13 year old singer
I as Graeme Thorne also had a crush on dodi and both me and bobby were dodi's dory but bobby's mum got really cranky with bobby for his voice because it could be a **** voice but bobby used bad language to tell his mum to get ****** and every time we went to the local shops in Bondi beach we bought our ice creams and sat on the beach singing the dodi Stephens hit
And then two gorgeous 12 year old girls sat near us and I said
How about a bit of sugar and bobby said for you maybe but I want dodi's pink shoelaces
And I told bobby to live in the realistic years and bobby said you can talk to these girls but I like dodi ok and bobby was ******* over dodi Stephens **** body while I as Graeme Thorne went over to the 12 year old girls and started to massage their backs and thighs saying to bobby these girls are a nice *** of sugar
For my spoon and as the girls left they kissed me as greame Thorne on the lips and left thinking my friend was a bit of a **** and when we got back to bobby's house bobby played pink shoe laces very loud as well as ******* thinking dodi is a 50s fox and I toild him that those girls on the beach were **** too and bobby said yeah I agree but I plan to finish school and marry dodi and then said he was Dooley and dodi is trying to keep me safe well in 1960 I was kidnapped and killed and bobby well I will never ever know if he got it together with dodi, probably not but in my current life at the age of 22 I heard bobby's twang singing pink shoe laces as I heard it on the radio and now I listen to pink shoe laces on YouTube
She is hot

“Are you sure about this? It seems kinda ******’ weird Mike…”
“No man, she’s totally cool. She likes it. I do this, at least, once a week.”
Bobby was hesitant, but Mike insisted he try it out. There had been a big fire in one of the apartment buildings a few weeks ago, the only part left untouched was a storage room under the stairs. She lived in there, he said.
“Usually, you gotta call her on the prepay first…like before you go over. But, for me…see I’m a regular, so she just gave me a key.”
“What so you just go inside?”
“Yeah, dude. Like I said, she likes it. Most of the time she’s all doped up and like, passed out. But like, as long as, like, I show her the money…she just like, tells me to stick it in. She likes it, says it helps wake her up and ****. Really gets her going.”
Mike was breathing hard, as he talked. They were getting close to the burned out building.
“I don’t know man, this seems ******. ******* a ******-******, that lives under some stairs, in a burned out building? I mean, what the **** man? Let’s just go home and **** our wives.”
Mike stopped walking and stood, staring at Bobby, in disbelief.
Slowly he spoke.
“That is...the stupidest thing...I have ever heard you say.”
“How? This is-“
“This…is a ******* adventure *******! A break from the day-to-day, a break from the norm, man. A taste of strange. Now c’mon already! We’re almost there”
They slowly started walking again.
“Well…do other guys in the complex do it?” Bobby asked, kicking a rock.
“Of course man! She’s got like six regulars a week. She’s got that and like, all the guys that just try her once for the hell of it. She does group deals too. The girl like, ****** a bunch of the high school boys before, she told me about that. The state champion on the wrestling team even gave it to her.”
It was amazing how the fire had blackened nearly every inch of the place. But that door beneath the stairs, was still faded blue & white. They walked up to the little door.
“Alright, now…do you wanna go first or second?” Mike asked, fumbling his keys into the door.
“I don’t know. We’ll see man.” Bobby didn’t know if he was really gonna do it.
Opening the door, they found her asleep in a small recliner, too small, it looked like it was made for a child. All miniature and ****. Bobby thought she was gonna look like the Crypt Keeper in a tube top and heels. But to his surprise, she didn’t look half bad, he thought. A real pretty little redhead, in flannel pajama pants, with painted black toenails and a Ramones t-shirt.
“What’s her name?” Bobby asked, nervously thumbing his Levi’s pocket.
“I dunno. Everyone just calls her ‘Easy’.
Mike shook her, trying to wake her up. It kinda worked. She opened her eyes a centimeter, nodded, and mumbled,
“….go ahead baby….zzzzzz...”
“Alright, buddy...I....am gonna go first.” Mike said, stripping down.
Bobby leaned against the wall, between that and the arms of the mini recliner.
Three Dole banana boxes were stacked in the corner. Lubes, condoms, and punched out cigarette butts, covered the top box. With his **** all shiny and lubed up, Mike put it in and got to it. It didn’t take long, two minutes into it and he blew his load. She didn’t move an inch.
“And don’t say anything man! I usually go a lot longer.”
“Hey, I wasn’t gonna-“
“It’s been a week since I ******, so just shut up.”
.She twitched and snored. Track marks on the tops of her feets. Mike reached down and spread apart her ***** lips, looking up and smiling at Bobby.
“Well? Come on dude...slip it in.”
Bobby unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his ankles.
Somehow, his **** was hard. He tore open a ribbed ******, from the pile of them, on the stacked Dole boxes. Bobby slid the ****** down his shaft. The room stunk like a can of expired tuna. Mike was still holding open her ***** lips.
“Mike. Move your hands. Come on, I got it man…”
He did like he was asked and stepped to the side. Stroking himself and grinning big. Bobby slid it in with ease, and began pumping away. Easy moaned with pleasure, at last waking up, her eyes finally open, and looking at who was ******* her.
“Give it to me, Daddy. Give it. **** me good.”
When Bobby finally came, five minutes later, Easy was wide awake. Bobby rolled the ****** off and held it in his hand.
“Do you have a garbage...Miss Easy?”
Mike and Easy both cracked up laughing.
“No. Just throw it behind something. Anywhere, I don’t give a ****.” She said.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, he quickly put his clothes back on. Mike stood, naked still, lighting a smoke for himself and one for Easy too. They were both smiling, rotten-toothed grins. All Bobby wanted was to get home to his wife, the guilt and shame, already eating him up. Easy laughed exhaling her cigarette.
“****. That was just what I needed. Thanks guys. Make him a copy of the key, would ya Mike?” She said, with a hearty, smoker’s cackle.
Bobby stood with his hand on the doorknob.
“See? I told you, Bobby…she likes it.”

Chapter 30: This Ain’t No Country Club

He stared longingly out the back window of his Dad’s

car. He was headed off to the country club again, missing

the nightly ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game with the guys.

The playground was not a country club. There was no price of admission, or exclusive standards necessary to be admitted. You could be black, white, red or yellow. It didn’t matter. What did matter was how you played, and how you fit into the group. You may have been a social outcast or juvenile delinquent outside the playground, and yes we had a few, but what really mattered was how you acted inside the fence.

In 1958 my parents joined the local country club. Being a young, upwardly mobile couple, and enjoying the success of my father's growing business, my parents decided that this was one way in which they could celebrate. I hated it! Not because I didn’t like the people there or didn’t want to learn to play golf. It was because it took time away from my favorite place — the playground.

After dinner in the summers, my parents would hurry up and clear the table and then head to the ‘club’ with us kids in tow to get in nine holes. This of course meant that I had to miss the nightly ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game in the street. I would then have to suffer through the entire next day hearing who hit twelve home runs and who threw who out trying to make it home. It just wasn’t fair. How could a country club ever compare to a ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game or the playground? It couldn’t. Not then, and not now. The country club was stuffy to a ten-year old, and the country club had strange rules. Most of them seemed to be about what you couldn’t do.

A Direct Opposite From The Playground

How we go from the inclusive nature of our nation's playgrounds to the exclusive practices of our golf, tennis and yacht clubs is probably the subject for another book and another writer. I am just so grateful that my earliest experiences were on a grass field surrounded by a chain link fence. It was inside that fence that I felt the playground wrap its four-acre arms around me and, through its spirit of free-play, teach me the greatest lessons I would ever learn.

How we develop the later prejudices of black/white, democrat/republican, or any choice at the exclusion of another is not something we learned there. At the playground, in the absence of parents and adults, we had to fit in and find a way to adapt to one another. The weather and the big guys called all the shots. That’s the way it was, and that was A-OK with us. It worked, because at different ages, and at different times, we all got to be squirts, then decent players, and finally the big guys.

It Was Fair Even When It Was Unfair

If that doesn’t make sense to you, then you probably didn’t grow up on a playground, where the whole truly was greater than the sum of its parts. There were no polo ponies or alligators on our shirts symbolizing our dreams. We lived them every day, and we lived them together!


Chapter 31: Violent But Not With You

The stare-down was over. Joe took the first punch but

delivered the second, then five more. To his credit,

Bobby was still on his feet, but the fight was over.

The playground’s resident tough guy could be violent, but he almost never directed that towards you. Not unless you were dumb enough to challenge his honor by publicly embarrassing him or making him look like a fool in front of the other guys. Then, the punishment was swift, like being shown the door after making your company look bad because of a dumb comment you made at the quarterly board-meeting. Nothing was more fundamental or learned earlier than the recognition of power.

The young neighborhood girls sensed this more than anyone, and it harkened back to Robert Bly’s ‘Iron John’. “Men are attractive because of their fierceness”. The Playground took on an aura proportional to its ‘tough guy status, not unlike many corporations. The tough guy’s roles were limited but invaluable when called upon. He was the playground’s last line of defense, even though his role was mostly one of deterrence. Similar to many companies, the tough guy’s role was usually passed down from the resident champion to his heir apparent, sometimes willingly, and sometimes not.

The mechanics of this process were mostly known only to the tough guys, but it gave the playground the stability and the security it needed. In the movie ‘A Few Good Men’, Jack Nicholson, while under interrogation from Tom Cruise says: “Somewhere in places you don’t admit, you want me on that wall, where four thousand Cubans try to **** me before breakfast”. He then finishes it with the immortal line: “You want the truth, you can’t handle the truth”. In our playground, the truth was governed by principles based on natural selection and the Law of the Jungle. Bobby Gross was our resident Tarzan.

Bobby was from the poor side of our town and was almost sixteen in the eighth grade. He had been ruling our four-acre domain for as long as anyone could remember. Bobby always seemed so much bigger and older than we were. It wasn’t only his age that made him the resident tough guy. Bobby earned and retained this title due to the several times when he had successfully defended his crown. These events though seldom, were major occurrences in the playground and were attended like a championship bout. They almost never happened by accident and were full of anticipation and bravado. The challenge usually came from another playground, and we were all extremely proud of Bobby when he successfully defended our honor.

Bobby almost retired undefeated. At sixteen, just about everyone leaves the playground for the world of cars and girls. I say almost because of Joe Church. Joe was a Navy brat whose Dad was an Admiral at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. They had just moved up from Norfolk Virginia, and one gray Thursday afternoon Joe showed up on the Playground for the first time. No words had to be exchanged, or threats made, it was just something you knew. Bobby and Joe knew it better than anyone. There could only be one playground number one, and today there would be a changing of the guard.

Like Bobby, but even more so, Joe was advanced physically for his age. He was very athletic and muscular. He had an air of quiet defiance, bred by years of moving from one Navy town to the next having to defend his honor at every stop. No one quite remembers exactly how the fight started. Someone heard the word ‘punk’ shouted and it began. It was over almost as quickly as it began. After taking Bobby's best shot, Joe pinned Bobby up against the chain link backstop and beat him to a pulp with less than six punches. This kid could really fight. It’s funny though; with Joe there was no bravado or posturing, just a raging controlled fury that you hoped would never be directed toward you. Joe was later highly decorated in Vietnam, and all of us who shared our waning years on the playground with him were very proud— including Bobby Gross.

Another Playground Legend Was Made!

Most corporations have their resident tough guy, or gal. You can only hope that they got their training, and cut their teeth, on the grass and asphalt of a distant playground. That way you can be sure that their lessons were true. If not, you may have to suffer the rants and tirades of some William Agee or Jack Welch wannabee. The real tough guys pass their strength along in the form of confidence and security to those working under them, just like Bobby and Joe did for us. This creates an atmosphere of stability and confidence that allows everyone to thrive and prosper and comes from lessons truly learned and paid for. The god’s of the playground instilled this in all. They entered your soul on the fields and courts of adolescence ...

And Never Left.

hi dudes and dudettes

i am just here to say that in the 70s a big thing

happened in the cosmos, you see bobby darin died

in 1973 and from that moment he performed music on the moon

like if yo see a gentlemen bee around a little bee buzzing

and do a dear a female deer ra a tropical golden sun

me a name i call myself and far a long long way to run

and every time i looked up at the moon i saw bobby darin performing up there

and he played you must have been a beautiful baby

and many more of his songs he wrote back in the early days

and bobby told buddha he wasn’t ready to stage an  earth body

because when he died it was 4 years after neil armstrongs moon landing

and bobby darin wanted to control the moon by entertaining the undead

you see in the cosmos bobby played baseball and the moon was champions

in 1978 and 1979 and it was then when he entered the ****** of his next life’s mother

so, he could control the earth and look after future lives like from friends and future children

and when it came time to re enter the earth as shaycarl as he is known today

who is a youtube family entertainer and a farmer with a few cows and cats and dogs

bobby darin is making sure that shaycarl helps in the future of this planet

by making sure the world sees what his family is up too

and in 2010, he turned 30 and now he is turning 36

this year, and he through bobby darin his last life

is trying to make his family have a lot of fun

his youngest son jackson was my cat lucky and my old school mate scott mcdonald

and there are more former famous people in their family

you see shaycarl to me looks like he admired neil armstrong

and another thing too bobby darin is watching the shaytards on earth TV in outer space

everything that shaycarl does is made to turn more viewers to him

as i listen to multiplication, i hear the voice of shay car;

and i watch shaycarl on the shaytards and yes, bobby darin has lived on

A little taste of tarmac, Bobby
Let me spin my wheels
A little taste of the long flat road
I’ve forgotten how it feels

A little taste of tarmac, Bobby
Make my chainwheel hum
A little taste of the up hill grind
Thirty miles and some

A little taste of tarmac, Bobby
Way out among the farms
A little taste of dust on your lips
My metal soul would calm

Climb up onto the saddle, Bobby
Clip into the pedals tight
Feel my frame respond to you
You always crank me right

Stay with me in the saddle, Bobby
Our ride will be as sweet
As the wash of lactic acid
From your shoulders to your feet

It’s good with you on my saddle, Bobby
I know you feel the same
You push my pedals hard now
And laughing call my name

Lean easy in those corners, Bobby
Accelerating the while
My frame is all aglow now
On your face I sense a smile

Flying home with you, Bobby
You get the adrenaline kick
It makes you sprint the last half mile
And smooth out the left hand flick

A little taste of tarmac, Bobby
I am waiting stem unbowed
Come find me soon and ride me
Before my rims corrode

A little taste of tarmac, Bobby
Make me spin my wheels
A little taste of any road
Or forget how good it feels.

bobby was a duck he became a stray
where he used to live they had moved away
left him the garden left him alone
grass was very high it had over grown

decided he would leave find a place to live
find someone to love him with a home to give
bobby he set off went along his way
looking for a new place somewhere he could stay

after quite some time he saw a bungalow
up the garden path bobby he did go
it had a little pond where he could swim away
happy and content swimming everyday

the owner he came out saw he was a stray
gave bobby a new home  he let bobby stay
he was very happy he could start new
with someone who would love him.  with a duck pond to.













bobby was a duck he became a stray
where he used to live they had moved away
left him the garden left him alone
grass was very high it had over grown

decided he would leave find a place to live
find someone to love him with a home to give
bobby he set off went along his way
looking for a new place where bobby he could stay

after quite some time he saw a bungalow
up the garden path bobby he did go
it had a little pond where he could swim away
maybe he could live there no longer be a stray

the owner he came out saw he was a stray
gave bobby a home somewhere he could stay
he was very happy he could start new
with who would love him with duck pond to

"You are my friend.
Please do me a favor.
Give Bobby this phone number.
Don't tell him I told you to.
Maybe he'll call before Dr. Mendrokis and his wife get home.
The children are sleeping in their beds.
I don't really care for being alone.
Tell Bobby to call me on the Doctor's phone."

Jill tries to study but it's quiet tonight.
The telephone rings to her delight.
It must be Bobby.

"Hello"

There is a silence, but she can tell someone is on the line.

"Bobby?"

Nobody answers so she hangs up the phone.
Jill Johnson doesn't like
To be alone.

The clock ticks on.
She hears a racket in the kitchen.
It's the ice-maker in the freezer.
She takes a fudgesicle out of the pack,
As she wonders if Bobby will try to call back.

The phone rings.
Jill says,"Hello, Bobby? What do you know?"

"Have you checked the children?"

Jill hangs up the phone.

At the weather, Jill fixes a drink.
They won't notice a little missing brandy, she thinks.
That call was scary.
His voice was dark.
Maybe it was Bobby
Who was just pretending.
Maybe she doesn't like him much, anyway.
He's kind of a ****.

The phone rings again.

"Have you checked the children?"

"This isn't funny, Bobby. Don't call back, anymore."

"Why haven't you checked the children?"

Jill slams down the receiver in a panic.
She dials the police on the rotary as fast as she can.
She's terrified and alone.

The policeman tells her,
If the man calls back,
The call will be traced
If she keeps him on the line.

She sits on the stool by the stairs.
She silently waits.
She's scared.

The phone rings.

"H-Hello..."

"It's me."

"I know."

"Why haven't you checked the children?"

"You, You can see me?"

"Yes."

"I turned the lights down.
I''ll turn them back up if you'd like."

"No."

"You really scared me before,
If that's what you wanted.
Is that what you wanted?"

"No."

"What did you want?"

"Your blood...all over me."

Jill hangs up the the phone,
It rings again.
She answers the phone and screams,
"Leave me alone!"

The policeman then says,
"Your life is in danger.
Soon, police will be there.
Get out of the house...
The call is coming from upstairs!"

Bobby's couch has a biography
of cigarette burns, food stains,
and cushion wear, all there, though
he doesn't know who wrote it

for $5 at the AmVets store
he bought a place to sit, and sleep
on nights when he was too wasted
to it make to the bedroom

where he has a mattress on
the floor; Bobby knows its life story, because
he filched it from a loading dock
at Sleep World

in five months,
it's had three women sleep
on it -- all hookers who gave
him a freebie

after they did copious lines
of coke on the glass topped coffee table
Bobby inherited from his brother, along
with a recliner he sold for ****

Bro's doing hard time at Huntsville;
he wanted Bobby to have a nice place
Bro gave his '73 Ford to their half sister
since Bobby's licence was suspended

when Bobby gets that oil field gig,
he's going to buy another Lazy Boy,
and a refrigerator to stock with beer...
maybe later a color TV

Sherman, Texas, 1978

Father sits at the head of the table
Strong and loud and proud.
Across the corner, to his right  
Mommy sat up straight.
Straight across again from her,
Is stubby chubby Bobby.
A yawn,
a stretch,
His eyes are fighting lack of rest.
He was awake far too late,  
but can you blame the boy?  
He turns sixteen today.

Finally, was little Annie  
half her brothers age.
She sat alone at the table’s end
A chair apart from mother,
A chair away from Bobby.
She hid behind the table’s edge
That faced her towards her daddy.
Her face she hid in the elbow-pit
of her bent right arm,
hoping no one notices

the scratches that cover her face.

“So good to have us all together,”
Father shouts away,

“A shame, indeed, when work keeps me
from my loving family.”
His hair is short, straight, stiff and blonde,
gelled perfectly in place,
Yes, so very neat and clean.
Though, not so flattering.
The hair has a hateful streak
you’d swear,
It seems determined  
to bloat and puff,
the Rosacea cheeks he wears.
The sun dyed shadows underneath
the neatness he perceives as
all important.
The cousin of Rudolph
he could be called,
his cheeks ignite and flush,
but still he wears his toothless smile
after tasting his ten A.M. toddy.

Mommy’s hair is a black whirlwind
attempt at taming with a scrunchie,
Yet failing to mask the mess it was.

Understandable,  
acceptable,
she had cleaned the house again.
Wiped every crease  
and every surface

no filth hides from her hawk eyes
Though the house was spotless  
when she began.
She still smiles,  
“Oh yes! So good!  

It’s been too long indeed!

We all are grateful for father’s attendance,
for Bobby’s sweet sixteen.”

Bobby’s smile didn’t fit his face,  
He’s too fat to reveal all his teeth.
No fault of his of course,  
happenstance and lottery
Still,  
that smile of his is one you simply never seem to want to see.  

“I’m really quite ecstatic myself,”  
Bobby proclaimed (every tooth exposed),
His teeth fade away  
He looks at his plate
“And although I know, I still wish,
I could have had a friend attend.”

Annie was neither stupid nor blind,
when three faces glanced
and two danced away.
But Father spoke up, addressing his daughter,

Shouting what he had to say,
“You know how stressed,  
little Annie gets!
With big days like today!
It’s not all bad! It’s for the best!  
I’m myself am very glad!  
See how well she has behaved?”
Bobby gave a knowing nod, and threw Annie a glare.

Annie did not respond;
Annie simply stared.

Father made a violent sound;
saved himself from a phlegm cave-in.
Now prepared to roar once more
at an eight-year-old with tremors.

Yet the words were nothing more than whispered.

“Now, Annie, why is your beautiful face so scratched?”

Annie did not respond.  
Annie simply stared.  
Then tucked her face in her elbow pit,
and swallowed a chunk of tears.

Mommy heard the gagged-up sorrow
and quickly interjected.  
“I found steel wool in the bath again,  

Annie likes them so.
If I’ve told her once  
Then I have a hundred times more,
They remove the filth from the dishes,
but not from little girls.”
Annie says,
“I know.”

Mommy fibs inside again,
a lonely little liar.  
Wishes her intervention  
was that of heroic martyr,  
But mommy interrupted
to save herself from silence.
Because sometimes in the noiseless stillness  
mommy feels an echo
it bounces from her spine to sternum.
That’s when she feels the lack of soul.
Hollow, mommy. Hollow.

Mommy held her smile hard,  
the silence only wins inside.
Glued-on cheer feels natural,
if you only wear It for a time.  
Her sawblade smile stayed
so perfectly monotone;  
statuesque.

The echo’s echoing too much,  
surely all the others hear?

Mommy croaked a giggle out,
and passed the cake around.
“Eat up! Eat up!
I worked so hard!  
I made it perfect!”

There were three plates that did not hold cake,
At least not for very long.
Seemed Annie simply liked the look,
And what a look it was!
Mommy made a masterpiece  
To say less is heresy!
Yet, now down two slices of masterpiece,
stubby chubby Bobby’s peace,
was no longer something he could keep.

“My God, how rude!
Annie hasn’t touched her food!”  

Father was just behind,
he, too had no peace of mind,  
he bellowed out,
“It really is rude!
It’s simply not fair!”

Mommy’s echo broke through the noise,
Mommy stopped responding;
mommy simply stared.

Stubby chubby birthday boy Bobby,
spitting frosting and cake:
“You, ungrateful brat!  
Why do you act the way you do?”

Mommy tried to intervene again;
She tried to save the day.
But hollow people make no sound,
they simply waste away.

So, of course, that could only mean,
Annie gets a chance to speak!
Why does she act so disturbingly?
With scratches and tremors,  
and a tummy full of swallowed hate?

Annie said,
“I can’t just make believe that Daddy doesn’t **** me.”

Bobby Shafto
Went to see
Queens Of The Stone Age

Without Me.

With your silver buckles
On your knees -
The Navy's answer to
Dita Von Teese?

And you think it highly likely
That you're gonna marry Kylie
When you next come
Home from sea.

Please.

You are no longer
My Facebook Friend
Bobby down a mineshaft go
Bobby Thunderbirds are go
Bobby HomeAlone on your mobile phone?

You poncy little princess
But I digress.

Have I mentioned
You're no longer my Facebook Friend?

Bobby.
Dobby.
Shafto

bobby was a singer he loved rock n roll
he was born to sing with rocking in his soul
everybody loved him he was the peoples friend
happiness to everyone bobby he would send

people gathered round when he began to sing
rockin and a rollin that was bobbys thing
entertaining fans at each and every gig
they would dance a long to rocking bobby rigg

everybody new him he stood out from the crowd
singing to the people it made him feel so proud
every where he went his fans were always there
singing to the people each and everywhere

then the angels came took him up above
to there place in heaven to there place of love
bobby he still rocks though so far away
his fans still think about him every single day

now he rocks in heaven to the angels too
way up in the clouds in the skies so blue
singing all his songs at his angel gig
as the angels rock. to rocking bobby rigg

the peoples superstar that everybody knew
still rocking up in heaven like he used to do
bobby he will stay in everybodys soul
singing to the angels with his rock n roll

everybodys friend he will always stay
rocking up above so very far away
singing all his songs at his angel gig
we wont forget the name of rocking bobby rigg

little bobby badger adventure bound was he
built himself a boat carved out from a tree
made himself a sail and a paddle too
headed out to sea beneath the sky so blue.

after quite sometime bobby saw some land
a tiny little island with lots and lots of sand
bobby he decided he would go ashore
and the little island bobby would explore

maybe find some treasure that was buried there
bobby started searching he searched ever where
then he saw a cross marked out on the sand
bobby started digging with his ***** in hand

suddenly he found a great big treaure chest
and to get it open bobby did his best
bobby pushed and pulled the chest it opened wide
there was gold and coins hidden there inside

bobby took the treasure took it to his boat
hoisted up his sail set his self afloat
headed back for home far across the sea
he was very happy now very rich was he

bought a great big boat to set a sail once more
to another place that bobby could explore

The plane touched down after a long flight that was true torture the whiskey had long since ran dry the coke had left me
with a headache and the movie was freaking me out
****** you twilight.

Had a seventeen year old girl chose this film that reminded me
I needed to call my wife  to tell her I couldnt pick her up after highschool.

Apon landing I was met by strange  men all named bobby  
im guessing to be a cop here you had to all be related
and named bobby  fine with me.

These men unlike there many named brothers across the pond didnt
have any wepons  dear lord man   wait a minute  take mine  what nice men these bobby clan were.
what was even better was this magic land had the sense to give them all the same name   so when you were drunk you wouldnt forget it.
Why did we not do this   the women  as well.

Apon searching my always ghost town of a wallet  one of the bobby
clan replied hey you know skeeter to?
Jesus  I wont even comment on that.

Apon my exit from the airport i was greated by something that was
a true blessing to any hungover eyes.
No sun  dear lord  I also noticed these people had already been drinking.  
For they were all driving on the wrong  side of the road.
London was rainy  cold   and soon to be Gonzo.

My trip began  like any good writer slash reporter slash honrny ******* drunks would begin  at the liquor store.
the bobby clan had taken my moonshine slash rocket fuel
oh well  least the plane wouldnt be the only thing flying tonight.

The strange little speaking man  who drove the taxi rambled on  as i applyed my social lubricate  better known as *****  how i did miss wild turkey.

You fancey a ***?
Sir your attractive but i dont swing that way.
One thing seemed clear these people were all drunk
it brought a tear to my eye  I had finally found my people.

Wanna see the palace?
Why not although  after i had been to cessars  this place seemed
kinda odd how did they expect it to make any money
with it all locked up?

Allthough the silent man outside with the black furry quetip hat was a draw.
The strange big eared  man i met in the garden after  my  
well little fence hop hell  being the human quetip didnt say anything
I figured he wouldnt mind to much.

Well the big eared man was rather plessant  after i offred him some whiskey  sorry  its a little weak  thoose bobby boys took my good ****.
No worries you crazy *******  wanna ***.
****** man Ive  told you guys  im straight.

After my exit  and brief *** kicking seems thoose quetip people are silent but deadly   my face soon kissed the pavement
as one replied  I belive him to be the one that wasnt special said thats what you get yank for speaking to the prince.

These people were worse than i thought  I was a big fan of purple rain.
dont belive a word that man said  besides he's a racesist.
never trust a man who can jump outta a  airplane and glide to the ground  unless he's dumbo.

One place to always seek refuge when in doubt  was a pub
least these people werent obsessed with if i was gay.
yes like a man in a church filled with like minded crazy people i was home.

Sharing a booth with a strange man creature who called himself Keith something  what a drunk genius he was indeed.
rambling hours on end about **** I seldom understood.
but as long as he was buying i was happy.

Poor guy  seems he was in a band  but with a name like the Rolling Stones how far could they go.
after much more rambling and some bad jokes we were off
me and my struggling guitar playing friend  who dare I say it was on drugs  I had met my true idol.

Always up for a prank we found areselves in he country
loading a bmw full  of horse crap  when a old woman from
the mansion did appear  under the inffluence  anger with pitch fork in hand.

As we fled  as well as staggerd  I asked my drunk pirate friend
you know that old woman looked  Paul  Maccartney That is Paul
Maccartney you ****** my sruggling sorta insane friend replied.

Running through the woods drunk at night is always fun
aside from thoose dam trees.
i was knocked flat as if i had been socked by skeeter
as i came to there the  legend stood overtop me
pitch fork raised wait befor you **** me sir please can i have
one last request.

I should have known Sir Paul  replied  happens all the time who should i make the autograph out to?
***** that amigo i pulled out my bible better known as my flask taking   one last drink of fire water  this was gonna ****.

When all the sudden a banshee's scream echoed in the forrest.
******* mate were done for  sir Pauls fear was clear as the wet spot on the front of his pants.

Tree's rattled what kind of monsters did this country hold?
the howl closer ****** Paul get of my back   im not
your old song writting buddy.

From the sky the bashee did appear  but had little or no intrest in me
The battle was epic the *** stained warrior put up valiant  and tearful fight.

The kicker was when she removerd her leg  like some sort of Brittish  samuri  all i can say is hot.
She swung like Mickey Mantle   or maybe it was mouse im not a big footall fan anyway.

Sir Paul knocked stone cold out  the she demon turned her attention to me.   And you!
She howled her leg wepon raised high in the moonlight
it was i know what your thinking romantic.

I deffended myself as best i knew how by falling to my knees crying pleading for my life  dam you bobby clan were are you now.

But to my suprize she only laughed silly yank  help me go through his pockets  befor the old ******* wakes up.
we searched finding many thing's hey whats this a flash light?
****** i should have known better than to look through a grown man's pockets.  
Had I not learned anything from my uncle.


The moon the she banshe with the removable leg
My drunk struggling muscian friend from a little blues band it was a magic night indeed.

As I sit by the fire  looking at it hanging over the mantle.
I wonder when will i again return to this  strange and Gonzo place.
And how the hell I was gonna explain were that leg came from.

Untill next time kids stay crazy
Gonzo

little bobby badger adventure bound was he
built himself a boat carved out from a tree
made himself a sail and a paddle too
headed out to sea beneath the sky so blue.

after quite sometime bobby saw some land
a tiny little island with lots and lots of sand
bobby he decided he would go ashore
and the little island bobby would explore

maybe find some treasure that was buried there
bobby started searching he searched ever where
then he saw a cross marked out on the sand
bobby started digging with his ***** in hand

suddenly he found a great big treaure chest
and to get it open bobby did his best
bobby pushed and pulled the chest it opened wide
there was gold and coins hidden there inside

bobby took the treasure took it to his boat
hoisted up his sail set his self afloat
headed back for home far across the sea
he was very happy now very rich was he

bought a great big boat to set a sail once more
to another place that bobby could explore

Bobby was a dog ,
short and wispy golden brown ,
muddy fur ,
he went everywhere ,
we went ,
we went everywhere ,
he went .

Bobby was a dog ,
he'd wait all day ,
until we were free ,
from schools ,
and rules ,
and grown up fools ,
to swim in waters ,
clear and free .

Bobby was a dog ,
a loyal friend ,
taught me a love ,
i'll always defend ,
we had nothing together ,
save cuts and laughs ,
fears and tears .

Bobby was a dog ,
everyone knew ,
if he was there ,
we were too .
Bobby was a dog ,
my friend you see ,
we buried him together ,
my brother and me .

Who is Bobby?
Is he me?
Or is it just a name, a false identity?

Who is the shy one?
Me or Bobby?
How do I know who is truly me and who is the guy I perceive myself to be?

So who is me?
It's obviously not Bobby.
I am me.
I am not these words or attributes I describe myself as.
That is Bobby.

So where does the confusion lie?
I guess in the differential between the two.
Where I need to look is in my heart,
because Bobby only exists in my head

Act 1
a notarized copy of this testament
is on file with my attorney
in case of my untimely earthing
by the invisible x-ray background
driving another stake through my bleeding heart
but back to our semiotically comatose narrative
The Eel king rips off Bobby's latex facade
at last I have you captive Bandwidth
Eel's eyes narrow a smile edges his mandible
Bobby's eyes gone wide with no exit
prepared to submit to his conspicuous doom
humid vistas from the Matto Grosso
panned luridly before his convulsing eyes
ars pharmacopia little muffin went Eel
the time has come for your loving torment
Bobby was dragged to the Cistern of Woe
by a busload of nuns from Santa Pudenda
and tied into one of Escher's inhibition pretzels
above a pit of staring human eyeballs
Bobby had a plan murky at first
but with a blurred urgency that unveiled
his guardian cosmetician's skin graft
from the last 3 alarm conflagration epic
it had finally healed abused and maligned
tho still on oxygen or was it toxigen
no one knew much less the narrator
too harried by Fate for detail work
but I digress to a distressing degree
Bobby stared into the cesspool of his mind
illumined now by a wan spark of hope
he would gambit judiciously
the ancient and terrible pherome defense
as the squish of rain forest footsteps
and little gasps of manual stimulation
graced with wanton overtones came closer
it was LeMona the Eel King's daughter
a beauty that all the aniline dyes in the jungle
could not extinguish in a waterfall's fog
marched with retinue straight up to Bobby
he was instantly and cleanly detrousered by
her wheezing steam engine of debauchery
within microseconds seconds her tongue
was down his throat to the car park
he heard the bell in her navel ringing
and went limp like a doomed weasel
in the talons of a swooping Mongolian bercut
the Eel King became visibly ill humored
contain your infantile carnality
mischievously insistent pride of my *****
(to be continued)

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon

bobby was my dog and a friend to me
when ever i was down bobby he could see
he would comfort me he could understand
reach out his paw so he could hold my hand

right there by my side bobby he would stay
to keep me company in his loving way
best friend in the world there could ever be
always by my side always there for me

bobby always knew when ever things went wrong
he would comfort me help to keep to me strong
help to pull me through till my troubles past away
right there by my side bobby he would stay

right there by my side bobby he would stay
to keep me company in his loving way
best friend in the world there could ever be
always by my side always there for me

It was tossed in a corner of Bobby Lee’s garage,
A length maybe a couple feet long
And pretty frayed up as well, like it had been strained
By some job that it hadn’t been designed for.
In any case, it was clearly pretty **** useless
Fit for nothing outside of a garbage bag,
Though that was apparently out of the question;
It had come to his dad’s possession through his uncle,
Who’d been a deputy sheriff over in Blount County
And, according to Bobby Lee’s father,
Man was fat, stupid, and mean even by deputy standards.
In any case, Bobby Lee had tossed in the trash,
And when his father discovered it missing,
Came as close to giving the boy a hiding
As Bobby Lee could ever remember,
And when he’d protested that it was good for nothing,
Not worth keeping for any reason, his father had answered,
(Rather quietly as Bobby Lee remembered)
Boy, there’s things I’d rather not remember,
And things I **** well won’t forget.

Bobby Pins



A bobby pin, a silhouette, cold sweat and tears are all the memoirs on my floor.

They remind me of you, the things you always do

that make me want you even more.

That make me want you even more.


Standing on guard for a far-eyed girl I thought that I once knew.

I want to shelter you, but I get the clue,

and arms empty can't keep you from harm.

And arms empty can't keep you from harm.


I still think of you, just like I always do, walking back through the door.

Who would have thought, a bobby pin you dropped,

the sharpest knife that's in the drawer.

The sharpest knife that's in the drawer.


If honesty meant a thing at all, it'd fall somewhere between life and death

and if it is me, between points A and B,

I lay here, the truth, empty and at rest.

I lay here, the truth, empty and at rest.

You see I was George Washington
The first president of the United States
And after my life of Albert Waldron
A famous Adelaide Melbourne footy star
I became Stanley Roberts
Who was born in 1930
Stanley knew he had a gift
As well as knowing the world puts you through situations so you can
One day know your past life story
Stanley was the son of John and beryl Roberts and the younger brother to Judy
Judy wanted to be a princess
And me, well because of my gift
I was having bad nightmares
And these nightmares meant nothing
Because I had a best friend named bobby
Who seemed to understand my gifted past
But still he wanted to be a normal kid
I couldn’t understand this
Especially when I wrote him a note
Explaining my issues
And 4 days later
I saw him burning something
Which at the time I thought was my
Letter and then in 1937 on my 7 th birthday
I made the baseball team for Manhattan pistols and bobby was trying out for it too
And he wasn’t so lucky
So I decided to concentrate on
Bring a great baseball player
And be the best version of Stanley Roberts
I could be and I was given my grandfathers
Old baseball bat
Now as I was in the psych ward
Both times I had dillusions which I couldn’t explain and then in 1943 when I made high school I was ready to play PRO baseball
And I was very popular and bobby was lonely and a ****** because he bashed his parents and killed them and was sent to juvenile detention till the age of 18 where he was killed on the electric chair and a test later in 1949 Stanley turned 19 and was too worried to persue his career as a baseball player and I auditioned for broadway where in the televised Macy’s thanksgiving day parade was apart of and I did that in 1950 too but in March 1951 a group of pit bulls attacked Stanley outside the Bronx swimming pool when I was meeting my broadway friends for a swim and this was a case which turned into homicide till they realised it was a pack of dogs that killed me
And in 1952 I became Graeme Thorne and I was living in Sydney Australia And my gifted visions didn’t happen this life and I realise now that the visions keep me safe from being kidnapped after my tragic last life and everything was going well as greame he was a choir singer and met the great Arthur summons and in 1960 Graeme Thorne was kidnapped and thrown to the sharks and this was a wake up call and in the 60s was a hard time being a lot of young babies which died after a few months of existence and in 1969 Brian Allan was born and his life started the same way as Greame’s but then Brian went crazy doing stupid things but as a kid he was normal and in the 90s he was normal too well apart from bashing his loving parents and that could have got me in gaol for a long time but after hearing about the troubled times of September 11 2001 I was trying to be nicer to my parents and it lasted untill 2004 when I was getting Stanley’s visions coming back to me in the form of silly dillusions which lead to me killing the family cat, which was a crazy thing for me to do and I was sent to the psych ward where I was thinking I was being kidnapped and the psych ward was to me like a old age home and I felt it was the entry to heaven which scared me so much and I was there for 3 months and I still had silly dillusions which lasted for a while untill I tried to ignore Stanley’s gift and went back to work and I went to batemans bay in 2004 2005 and 2006 as well as playing Santa at vinnies where I felt part of the establishment and then I was becoming very well I went back to Adelaide in 2009 where my previous life Albert Waldron lived and I felt very welcome and I saw the Adelaide christmas parade there and then I went to Merimbula where I partied on New Year’s Eve to the pigs music band and in 2012 I was really hyped up in the establishment I went to Adelaide again and I saw the Christmas parade again and albert’s spirit was on top of me and I was feeling Stanley’s gift and then I went home I got another job at ACTEW and in 2013 I was in the psych ward where I became an artist with delusions but despite the screws not giving a **** about me I was writing poems drawing pictures to my hearts content
And when Christmas came I left the psych ward and I wanted to do something good so I did the cartooning course and joined a theatre group where I expressed myself with the gift of Stanley which was starting to fall into space I told the whole world my problems like sending emails to different addresses around the world and I started reading poems in the poetry slam, my first poem was I get headaches from champagne
And after that I read many more and in 2015 I left but then I became the ornament to a personal trainer and he made me lose Stanley’s gift which when he went to gaol I started to understand that coronavirus was taking people’s fun away and everything was cancelled at the start and I was watching online concerts and Netflix and YouTube and suddenly tonight I was taken on a journey where I was Darren Stephens from bewitched and I saw my best friend bobby and he assured me that he didn’t burn my letter it was a few other things they were burning when I saw them  and I saw my girl friend of 1947 who brought my mind to think that Stanley wasn’t gifted
He was nice and when she died in 1997 bobby said Stanley had no gift but I was sure I had a gift and bobby said, the reason why Stanley died so young was because he thought he was special ya know
Better than everybody and each death was a wake up call saying for me to live in the real world and not think the gift means something, it is just silly dillusions that you can’t control and I felt I was back in the psych ward learning my life stories abs suddenly Jupiter moon blew up with methane and we couldn’t get out suddenly With my plans to work and join singing groups etc my dad gave me methane pills to help me become good next year and get over this coronavirus and the gift of Stanley became an urban legend and suddenly I thought I was born again