Been trying to ignore what month it is, the one I hate and would never miss. I know I'm not the only one... Still hurts, but keeping busy so it's not as tough. Back in Cleveland, this and that's changed, but you know how "home" is; pretty much the same. Ashtabula still has ****** weather ^_~ I don't know why I check, guess it's habit or whatever Sometimes I feel like you come down to visit me... Its cool, I like to imagine us chillin' Laughing, smoking, having a few brews, listening to good tunes, ranting on about lifes truths and blues....really fkn miss you Anyways, birthdays right around the corner, you know I'd never forget...hugs and kisses til we talk again old friend.

I said I wasn't going to do this today
but again for the third time you asked for it.
Ranger Rick you thought that
if you used your Woody account
I wouldn't know that it was you.
You thought wrong.
Yea I **Blocked
Marcus Darcy or should I say Deena/Vicki..?
Angelina Lopez or should I say Brandon Nagley, Tommy Jackson, Tiberius Paulk...?
Frank Rizzo or should I say Gary L..?
James or should I say r,woody, tophat, Wilf Sporrat..?
>Wilf Sporrat is a complete wannabe Wolf Spirit<
Jake Muler, Bill Murray and ten others are also fake
....................
The things that you are inboxing Wolf's followers,
aren't true.
So Stop.
You guys are stalking him and his followers
Thanks Woody for the Community Guidlines reminder,
maybe you should read the guidlines too or Shut up!
and stay off my page.
Its actually very funny how you blocked me but you still go on my page and leave comments...? Huh maybe we all should take a moment to ponder on that.

----> FYI <----
*I was not put up to this by Wolf Spirit or anyone else....and I got my information from many different reliable sources.....

The jester free styled about dealing grams under the tainted Charleston moonlight – Drug scene.
Whenever we discussed the existence of God, it always ended in a fight – The unseen.

The harlot was always type casted as the Rizzo, never the Sandy.
Who could forget those black leather pants, oh so tight – Street corner scene.

The king flirted with the innocent freshmen girls, unaware of the imminent restraining order.
He would joke about using the effervescent glow of his skin as their flashlight – Obscene.

The fair lady believed Tolkien was the closet humanity could ever get to godly perfection.
She was infamous for always tripping over the set, a common plight – Off scene.

The wizard dreamed one day to be the first black James Bond, code name Black Mamba.
One day he told me he liked women and men, except the whiney boys of white – Epicene.

You, the minstrel, sang the words to “Baby Got Back” in your high-pitched voice backstage.
You often told us “rawr” is dinosaur for I love you and everything will be alright – End scene.

I, the queen, tried to hide behind the black velvet curtain paralyzed by my stage fright.
But now, I just wish you hadn’t crashed your car into the tree that night – Unforeseen.

cooking sauce earlier... bane's theme, thematic of con carne erotica therapeutic digression... the ambivalent chuckling worth if not simply wanton of stereotype, conversely a stenograph, and a dynamism of acquiring an autograph; or how to undermine poetic rhyming: akin to tenacious d's one note song paraphrase divisive of the futility engaging in such a genetic gross-misconduct and apprehensive on up-keeping a cultural initiative brought forth and necessarily worth a replica; in true or a truant sense of Heidegger, an altruism of conjunction, the birds procrastinating or peacocking, whether the scenario if worthy of loathsome to be minded... it's nonetheless there... it's how language is used that concerns us... not what we do with language, but how we use it... the how is more important than the why... thankfully the reality / ontology of language is how rather than why; why is already answered with us being and continuing to be here, it's how we are that we are... persistent in being claimants of a continuum, whether akin to a Schubert or in continuum or in infinituum... ah that natural convenience of the acquisition of status... jargon and char... a heated discussion and nothing but the marring of furthered augmentation toward one's own clarification of ponce. me and my scabby version of events, inflammatory bulging where Oliver Twist suggest: please sir, may i puke on this **** some more?!

sooner be than think,
       and no sooner
                    be more than θink,
to θink
               is as much a piggish
oink when love is concerned,
meaning that φilosoφy
  begets relegation
                 when naturally
nailing the coffin shut in Cymru
is what was waited upon;
        orn the higher tier of Manhattan -
there too the earthenware -
or the calypso fury against the panzer....
the new Iraq against my flavoured jive,
oh i'll dance the culinary stinking socks bit....
like i'd dance the Caleigh in Glasgow
to pride the Irish....
                    Pakistan stems from
a dream: counter Saudi Arabia, or dune,
arable cunning-deform of
                                         cuneiform.
spider-jets.
                                      whe­n was Arabia
the Sheikh Fortune to chuckerfore a: wise said so.
you'd be sooner dead that dealing
the prescribed antics -
                        and death akin to bane's theme:
thespians' ergo medium: a life of puritans,
a life of pure fable.
                 i am still here...
     waiting,
demanding,waiting,
                Rizzo Papa,
Ritz Pulpa Johannus.
                                            thespians' ergo medium:
when thinking doesn't translate into being,
                                it's there,
interim...
                             a tragico-comedic allowance
to shelter a nearing extinguishing of oaf narration....
and a depth thus scolded,
                a depth thus summarised,
a depth with a fatigued enterprise -
                               a churning bechanced by coup after coup:
lazily forgiving a Lazarus undertaking....
hence crescendo Chile...     ore of the smartly dressed
Husky dressed men... alternatively stated: the men
in the quiet describable attire.
                  take a dog for a walk, take the tongue
into a waggling ha ha heap's worth of a dictionary;
    wo fish vocalised their citric concerns
when the loaves in fraction levelling five was brought
for questioning.... or the ***** socks....
                              alternatively dressed *lumberjacks
in hankies and chequers alias chess.
says as much as munchy is talked about
in Tuscany - where munchy is referred to
                    as fibre, or the dietary worth of inedible.

You’re annoying and nagging, silent but true
How much I would like to live life without you
For all those years, no one knew
But deep down, you’ve always seemed familiar
Sometimes it’s hard, other times fun
But as of right now, I am done
When you are present
I feel a little different
All my friends are normal
And I am far from it
Sometimes it comes in waves
But let me just say, they do not go like the ocean
Other times it is slammed on me
And leaves in one two three
All those years we’ve spent together
I feel as though im a feather
Causing bad grades and more
All i wanted to do was go to the shore
All the bad grades get me grounded
Then all i feel is im surrounded
When i talk, people tell me to breath
But they don’t understand, i never can
I constantly feel like i'm under pressure
And i just want to enjoy the weather
All those times when i don’t pay attention
I truly try, and i look for affection
Some of those years, i fear all vanished
Away from sight, away from satisfaction
Most of the times, when i feel alone
It's those times, when i love my friends most
Some of the times, where I feel anxious
That my friends were distractious
I am thankful for my friends and family
Who helped me most through the hard times.

There is a light in every darkness,
an answer for a question!
today i will reveal the brain's limitation
as i forecast my upcoming poems

"the significance of essence"
"the existence of forever"
"the cycle of eternity"
"the alpha and the omega"

that was how our thinking, it can be so infinite.
and according to frank rizzo on a message...
it's a rhythm that has no end
my quite observant poetic friend

meaning,
I enjoyed every word of your poem! I can't wait to see more.
Keep creating!
God bless you and have a wonderful new year!
inspired by Erica Carrillo!Thanks a lot, see you all next year. ;)

My grandfather never lived to see Bryant and Rizzo play.
The Cubs won last back in 0- eight which was before his day.
His lifelong love of baseball he passed on down to me    
I took up his forlorn cause as mine each time I watched them play.      
For sixty seven summers    I have watched Cubs come and go;
seen good team fade in summer’s heat, adding to our goat- cursed woe.
I’ve seen them jinxed by black cats in the summer of sixty nine.
Watched Bartman wreck our changes;, what will it be this time?
Now they looked nearly down and out; shut out by the Tribes’ fine Corps
But they got up off the canvas and began to hit and score.
The Series now was tied at three, could my heroes count to four?
Our manager’s moves were questionable; I don’t care what you say.
He shouldn’t have taken Hendricks out (and let Baez swing away)
I sat through anxious innings and through the rain delay.
That’s when this old agnostic got down on his knees to pray.
They won it Eight to seven, Bryant made the final play.
My heart is filled with a nameless joy as Someday is today!