SEARCH FOR REV WIDENS! Mystery Blonde Questioned!

•July 20, 2014 • Leave a Comment

 

UFOs, bloody cult rituals, corporate assassins, mysterious femme fatales, an industrial relations dispute.. what is the true story lying behind the recent disappearance of the Reverend Hellfire?

laughing wendy

 

SEARCH FOR REVEREND

WIDENS!

Mystery Blonde questioned

over “Missing Minister”!

 

BLOODY RITUALS LINK!

Sources close to the Investigation into the disappearance of

beloved poet, performer and Paganistic Prophet, Reverend Hellfire, revealed today that a “Mystery Blonde” seen with the Reverend shortly before his disappearance, had been called in for questioning.

The woman in question has been identified as Wendy Seary,

a nightclub chanteuse formerly associated with such notorious underground “rock” groups as “Pineapples from the Dawn of Time“, “SPANK” and “Loves-A-Blur.”

It has also been confirmed that she is currently singing for a band with the suspiciously eldritch name of “CTHULHU“.

cthulhu-approves

Investigators believe the band’s name reflects Mz Seary’s position as on office holder in the upper echelons

of the Deagon-Deviation branch of the secretive

Church of Starry Wisdom“.

The CSW has long been suspected of being a front for the hideous Cthulhu Cult, whose loathsome and degraded practices have been suppressed in every decent, civilised society.

The Reverend has been a steadfast and public opponent of the Cthulhu Cult in the past and as a result has received numerous anonymous threats and warnings to: “Be Silent or Die“.

Some now fear that the Reverend himself may have ended up as a human sacrifice to the “Great Old Ones”, in one of the Cult’s loathesome and bloody rituals.

ugly mudmask

STAFF QUESTIONED

Enigmatic Personal Assistant Linda Loop

Enigmatic Personal Assistant Linda Loop arrives at the Inquiry.

Also questioned today was the Rev’s Personal Assistant, the strangely enigmatic Linda Loop, who, in a touching, if naive display of employee loyalty, steadfastly maintained

her belief in the Reverends survival.

“I’m sure”, She said coyly, “that even if someone,

say..ooh, a disgruntled employee with a grudge,

had drugged him, transported his unconscious body in the roomy boot of something like a a 71 Chrysler for example and

were to have left him naked, gagged,

blindfolded and bound to a tree in dense rainforest,

he will probably have managed to gnaw

his way thru the ropes, and is even now limping,

bruised and naked, towards civilization.

He’s a cunning little monster so I wouldn’t be surprised

if he’s even managed to clothe himself by now

from someone’s clothes hoist.”

“Of course all this is just speculation“, she purred demurely,

“but I’m sure that, if such were the case,

should he survive the experience,

future employer/employee relations

will be conducted on a much firmer basis

of mutual understanding and respect“.

Laughing 3 suspects

REVEREND VICTIM OF UFO ABDUCTION?

But in other developments,

suggestions have been made to the ongoing Investigation,

that the Reverend may have been kidnapped by Aliens

from another world.

It’s January 2001 all over again!

a long time associate of the Reverend,

the respected chemical engineer known

only as “Dr Bob” asserted, “They came back for him..

I knew They would.. it was only a matter of Time..

he shouldn’t have removed the implant..

They don’t like it when you do that!”

The Doctor is believed to be referring to a mysterious incident that occurred in January 2001 in dense bushland, when he and the Reverend were witnesses to a UFO Close encounter

whilst searching for an earlier Doof west of Ipswich. 

The Reverend has written of this experience himself

(link; http://reverendhellfire.wordpress.com/2012/03/11/ufo-a-tale-of-high-weirdness/)

in the Sunday Sermons column, and of dealing with the consequences following that Incident, including

 the detection and removal of Alien implants.

“The circumstances are just too similar

to the previous incident”, Dr Bob told investigators,

“It can’t just be co-incidence..

I believe The Reverend has been abducted and is no longer on this planet.”

While the new lead is not being actively pursued at this time,

Authorities have detained Doctor Bob and placed him in a secure facility for further observation and testing.

Docktor Bob's rendition of the Mystery UFO of 2001

Docktor Bob’s rendition of the Mystery UFO of 2001

THE “THIRD WOMAN”

Who is the mystery woman seen with blonde Cult Priestess Wendy Seary? Is the lobster a "ritual object" of worship?

Who is the mystery woman seen here with blonde Cult Priestess Wendy Seary? Is the lobster a “ritual object” of Cult Worship?

Yet to be identified by the Investigation into the Reverend Hellfire’s disappearance, is a third “mystery woman” seen in his company at a “Bush-Doof” in the early hours of July 13.

The dreadlocked “Third Woman“, is said to be of a somewhat feral appearance but, “very friendly” in manner.When last spotted she apparently had a lion entangled in her dreadlocks.

Mourning Loved Ones have urged her

to step forward and share with investigators

any information she may have

on the Reverend’s movements in his last hours.

NEWS FLASH!!! 

I was worried that Miley's sweet, simple nature would be corrupted by the Music Industry

The Heir to the Cyrus Trusts’ Weapons-Systems and Entertainment-Ventures Conglomerate, now said to be worth  Billions, became “Mrs Miley Hellfire” at a secret Balinese Wedding.

In a startling development, Investigators in

the “Case of the Missing Reverend”

today interviewed Senior Executives representing

the powerful Cyrus Trust Foundation,

the multi-billion dollar,

Entertainment and Small-Arms Manufacturing Corporation.

In the weeks before his disappearance, the Reverend was at the centre of a Media Frenzy over revelations of his secret Balinese Wedding to notorious pop celebrity Miley Cyrus,

heir to the Cyrus Billions.

A recent injunction by lawyers representing the Cyrus Trust, to prevent Reverend Hellfire from publishing his reminiscences of his time together with the troubled young Popstar, is currently before the courts, and sources speculate that the high-profile case may lie behind the controversial religious leader’s disappearance.

“There’s millions resting on this case”,

one anonymous phone-informant told the Sunday Sermons Office, “Its very convenient for the Trust

that he’s disappeared just Now. A little too convenient

if you know what I mean.

It’s cheaper for the Cyrus Trust

to arrange for an ‘Irritant’ to have an ‘accident’

than to have to settle with them out of court”.

“Oh Man.. the Trust!” our informant whispered furtively

before abruptly hanging up,

“you don’t want to fuck with those people..no way! 

Last known photo of the Reverend on Tambourine Mountain

Last known photo of the Reverend on Tambourine Mountain

***

2 WRONGS w Title

***

tai chi hand

The Reverend Hellfire was a practising Performance Poet,

an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism and the Church of the Universe,

as well as President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity Inc.

Absinth maketh the heart grow blonder.

***

The Reverend is Missing!!!

•July 15, 2014 • Leave a Comment

crowhat and shadow

REVEREND MISSING!

We apologise for the absence of yesterdays Sunday Sermon,

but regret to announce the Reverend Hellfire

has disappeared. He was last seen on the coldest night of the year, in bushland on the side of rugged Mount Tambourine, where he reportedly attended one of the notorious Pagan Celebrations known as

a “Bush Doof”,at an undisclosed location.

by doof light

Said to be heavily intoxicated on a bizarre cocktail of psychedelic and narcotic drugs that would kill the average human being, the Reverend was last seen dancing wildly in the company of three unknown women, described by locals as,

“Trailer trash in a flashy car”.

Rumours, that a shovel and masking tape went missing from a nearby lockup at the same time, remain unconfirmed.

There are conflicting Reports over the Reverends last words. One eyewitness (who did not wish to be named) told this enquiry; ” …and Then he said,”‘ I’m going out now. I may be some time..”‘ and he got up and walked out the door. He was a real gentleman right up to the end!

However his Personal Assistant believes his last communiction was a text message sent shortly before dawn. The message reads simply;

“Doof doof doof doof..”

i c the light

When last seen the Reverend was believed to be wearing a red and black, silk kimono and burgundy coloured velvet tights under a full-length leather trench coat and his trademark broad-rimmed black hat and crow mask.

Strange lights were seen in the sky the night the Reverend disappeared

Strange lights were seen in the sky the night the Reverend disappeared

Shocked by the apparent indifference of the Authorities and Church to the Reverends disappearance, and their refusal to conduct helicopter sweeps over the heavily forested area in an effort to locate the revered figure, friends and followers of the late Visionary (note;Is it too soon to say ‘late’ yet? Probably should just say ‘missing’, the bastard may still turn up. ed.) have banded together to launch their own Search and Rescue operation.

Although several would-be rescuers have themselves since become lost in the thick scrub, volounteers spirits remain generally high amongst the Team, most noticeably in those who had consumed mescaline beforehand,  which they obtained by gnawing the bark of certain native trees.

“It sharpens all your perceptions’s,” claimed one hopeful earlier, “It’s sure to help in the Search.”

“I just hope we find the carcass before the wild pigs scatter it about too much,” another searcher remarked, with what one would hope was cautious optimism, “It’s hell identifying the remains when the pigs get there before you do.”

The Reverend Hellfire’s Personal Assistant, though clearly ‘tired and emotional’, also sounded a note of optimism,

“Oh He’ll come crawling back, looking like the cat that ate the cream..don’t you worry about that!,” she asserted, “He’s harder to kill than a cockroach or a rat.. besides, he’s sworn not to die till all his enemies are dead first and I’ve seen the list and he’s got a long ways to go yet.”

A vigil and prayer session is planned for later this week.

Donations to help continue the search are much needed, the Director of the “Find the Reverend Fund” said today

and should be directed to kurilpapoets@yahoo.com.au

All donations over $500 tax deductable.

Though clearly distraught, this rescue team takes time off to pose on this classic 71 Chrysler, renowned for its power-steering and roomy boot. "You can fit a shovel, or say, a rolled up carpet in there with no trouble," asserted the vehicles peroxided owner.

Though clearly distraught, this rescue team takes time off to pose on this classic 71 Chrysler, renowned for its power-steering and roomy boot. “You can fit a shovel, or say, a rolled up carpet in there with no trouble at all,” asserted the vehicles peroxided owner.

***

Technical difficulties culud

***

??!!

The Reverend Hellfire..

do you miss him yet?

***

 

 

FUN

•July 6, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Due to an injunction from the Cyrus Trust, the thrilling conclusion to “My Secret Wedding to Miley Cyrus” has been postponed until next weeks sermon, by which time we’ll have hopefully come to a amicable settlment. In the meantime, enjoy this poem my friends..

lord of the dance

FUN

The Devil of Boredom

drove me Insane,

the way that it tickled my Soul,

till I scratched that Itch

setting loose,

just for Fun,

Forces I couldn’t Control.

*

All it took, as it does,

was a phone call or two,

and on Facebook

some rumours and clues.

Then off the Mob took

in a great howling pack,

(I think they were looking for you)

*

But you can’t reason with Mobs

or so I have found

so I just went along for the ride,

as they turned the whole town

quite Upside down.

(I hope you found somewhere to hide)

*

My dear Friend, you should pray,

that the Devil of Boredom

never enters  your Life.

For that Devil’s Idea

of Fun I have found

just leads to Trouble and Strife.

*

But you must come around

when the Dust has Died down,

sometime

we’ll have Muffins and Tea.

But this must be deferred

for alas, I’ve just heard

that the Mob is now looking for me!

!

ugly mudmask

****

normal jpig

***

tai chi hand strawberry circle

The Reverend Hellfire is a practicing Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity Inc.,

and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism

AND the Church of the Universe.

He likes the smell of his own armpits in the Summer

***

 

 

Miley Cyrus & Me; Our Forbidden Love

•June 29, 2014 • Leave a Comment

 

Miley Cyrus; desperately trying to fill the Void left by the Reverend's absence.

Miley Cyrus; desperately trying to fill the Void left by the Reverend’s absence.

 

Miley & Me; Our Forbidden Love

 

Miley Cyrus rang me up again the other  night.

“I’ve been thinking about you Jerry,” she said.

“My name’s not Jerry,” I reminded her,

but I don’t think she heard me because she was already babbling on about how boring Bali was and she heard that my country was, like, right next door, so she’d sent a helicopter to pick me up so we could have some Fun again and how I had

47 minutes to get to the airport for lift off.

*

Actually I had been kind of expecting a phone call of this nature, ever since I’d heard that her World Tour was lurching  towards my part of the globe.

Regular readers of Sunday Sermons may recall my first encounter with young Miley, courtesy of a local radio station competition. [ http://reverendhellfire.wordpress.com/2013/11/17/a-date-with-miley-cyrus/ ]

Our “date” had quickly spiraled out of control that night, and after a series of bizarre and disconnected episodes, a posse of Celebrity-Bodyguards and enraged Zookeepers had finally cornered us in the Flamingo Enclosure

at the local Wildlife Sanctuary.

They separated us after that and took her away, yet it seems I had somehow made an impression on the young lass in our brief time together. Clearly she felt she needed the stabilising influence of an older, more mature man to counterweight the influence of the usual pack of white-trash flunky yahoos

that surrounded her.

Ah yes, her Entourage..What a pack of rats!

For a start, they were worse than footballers in their seeming inability to enter a nightclub or bar without ending up on page three of the local scadal-sheet tabloids.

None of them could apparently do drugs either without ending up in Hospital or in Jail. Seriously. They’d smoke a couple of joints and drop an aspirin

and the next thing you know they’re on a respirator

being wheeled into the Betty Ford Clinic.

The week after that they’re on Oprah Winfrey with their “inspirational” Rehabilitation Story, and a best-selling Tell-All Expose of their three months as Miley’s close confidante and intimate friend. These people were parasitic scum, and I made a mental note to shift most of the blame

           for Miley’s “shocking deterioration” onto them

      when it came time to write my own memoirs.

 

I was worried that Miley's sweet, simple nature would be corrupted by the Music Industry

I was worried that Miley’s sweet, simple nature would be corrupted by the Music Industry

I must admit I was a little apprehensive on the flight to Bali. For one thing there was the suspiciously bulging boogie-board bag Miley had asked me to pick up from “her friends place” on the way to the airport. Her “friend” (a heavily tattooed Japanese man missing several finger joints) had seemed a bit twitchy to me and now the bag sat on the floor next to me, an ominous presence radiating foreboding.

Also, I had realised that I didn’t have my passport with me. So I called her on the helicopters radio, but Miley just told me I didn’t need a passport because the President of Indonesia came to her concert in Jakarta and was a really good friend and I just had to say I was her guest.

I wasn’t entirely reassured by this so when the pilot was distracted, I took the opportunity to push the bag out the door with my foot somewhere over the Coral Sea. Miley would be pissed off about it, but I was counting on her limited concentration span and short-term memory problems to get us past that hurdle.

*

As it worked out though, the chopper took me straight to Miley’s villa, obviating the need for a passport, and the villa was already so chock full of drugs that no-one even asked about the bag. The pilot just stalked off without a word to get drunk.

Anyway, everyone at the Villa was preoccupied

with Miley’s current enthusiasim,

our upcoming Marriage.

I must admit I blinked when Miley started introducing me to people as, “Jerry, my Fiancé“, and telling them we were getting married later tonight at midnight, but I was too polite to contradict her in front of other people.

I mean, I liked the girl, but even by music industry standards this seemed a bit hurried.

Also, call me paranoid, but I got the feeling

that not all of the guests were as thrilled

as Miley was about our upcoming nuptials.

 

"Don't forget who's the centre of attention round here," she lectured the lackeys

“Don’t forget who’s the centre of attention round here,” she lectured the lackeys

Later, when we had ducked off into one of the Villas numberless, well appointed bathrooms,, between snorting long lines of cocaine off a mirror and sucking my tounge, Miley told me what was going on. It was all very murky and complicated, but the gist of it was that Miley had invented our upcoming marriage in order to get herself out of several emotional and legal entanglements she’d somehow found herself committed to.

Funnily enough, she confessed coyly to me, the more she told people about our impending imaginary marraige, the more she came to look forward to it,

until finally she had the Epiphany that she loved me and that we were destined to spend the rest of our lives together.

Naturally there were some disappointed parties going about the place as a result, and some resentment had even been expressed toward me.

“Teeheeheehee-hee..and then Dougie said he wanted to shove a knife into your guts! Teeehee-hee! He’s so jealous!”

she giggled girlishly,

her face covered in a mask of talcum powder and coke.

*

In the afternoon we went driving around the Balinese backwaters on a hired motorcycle, looking for a suitably exotic looking temple to get married in. We found one after we had an accident with a water buffalo, which left the water buffalo relatively undamaged but the bike a total right off.

It was while I was paying off the water buffalo owner for his suffering and mental anguish, that Miley wandered off and by chance discovered the most decrepit looking

temple we had seen yet.

In parts barely one stone stood on another.

Elsewhere the weather-worn blocks were held up by a scaffolding of vines,

and the whole place was infested with a territorial tribe

of bad-tempered and probably rabid monkeys.

Nonetheless it was apparently still functioning as a recognised temple,

occupied and operated by a single, wizened, half-naked priest

who was happy to marry us at midnight,

and very happy to be generously paid for providing such a dubious service..

*

While we waited for the helicopter to pick us up, Miley and I retired to a nearby, suitably romantic bamboo glade by a stream.

There, to the gentle sound of the bamboo rustling, and the deep, lowing

of the water-buffalo, we made sweet love

in the afternoon, in anticipation of consummating our vows

later that night but mainly to pass the time.

Only the constant whining of swarms of mosquitoes spoiled our Serenity, but as we were both full of toxic chemicals, few chose to bite us, and those that did soon died.

"An insect bit me," she said," Can you suck out the poison?"

“An insect bit me,” she said,” Can you suck out the poison?”

Once we got back to the villa, the rest of the afternoon was consumed by the preparations

for the evening’s Bacchanalian rout.

Dougie moped and scowled around the fringes, trying to bring people down, but I paid him no mind. I had already paid a local Shaman to poison him, and though the Shaman had been drunk when I hired him, he did seem to know his business,

and my guide expressed full confidence

in his ability to resolve my fiance’s

pre-marital entanglements.

*

Events took an unexpected turn when, after a last minute tantrum ,Miley replaced all the bridesmaids with monkeys, sewing them all into intricate, miniature, Balinese wedding-costumes. The tiny, ancient Hindu priest didn’t seem to mind. Miley had paid him in Opium before the ceremony, and his wrinkled face had been wreathed in smiles ever since.

*

I didn’t mind either. Having a bunch of rabid monkey bridesmaids screeching and pissing all over the place was a welcome respite from the antics of the white-trash, bleached and brazilianed bimbos they’d replaced.

At least the monkeys weren’t on nitrous oxide.

On the down side though it did mean there were now several disaffected and disgruntled “former associates” gone

off-reservation

and they were probably already making

sleazy deals to sell us out to various

competing Media Corporations

and Narcotics Agencies.

And Dougie hadn’t been seen for awhile either.

I was hoping the Shaman had been at work

but I couldn’t be sure without seeing a body..

20s mouse 

***

Tune in for Part. 2 next week;

“The Pink Wedding.”

***

no laughing matter

***

??!!

The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet, the President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists AND the Church of the Universe.

He’s a very strange man but basically harmless if you don’t bother him

***

CHERYL

•June 22, 2014 • Leave a Comment

 ballerina91

CHERYL

Friday afternoon and my local Pub (rough-as-guts

working-class) has topless waitresses

serving watered down beer in the back-room bar.

Today some plain and nervous country lass,

(low self-esteem burning like a lantern),

is pouring beers for the “tradie” crowd.

It makes me sad to see her smiling insecurely,

the yellowing bruises on her thighs,

the cheap and tacky lingerie,

the poorly applied make-up.., all this and the smell

of beer-soaked carpets

is making me feel depressed.

.

But I am here to see Cheryl,

aged doyen of Pot Dealers,

perched on her barstool a hundred years

like an ancient, suspicious lizard on a rock,

blinking warily for informants,

dogs and undercover-cops.

Watches over all her Domain,

stretching from the pokies faraway in the darkened corner,

(where she does her dodgy deals),

down to the pool tables near the toilets

(you can always smell the drains).

She keeps the bar staff sweet,

tossing them a bag or two each week,

lord knows what her arrangement

 with management is but

they leave her alone to ply her trade

and sell her over-priced, alfoil sticks

of “Yandi”, that’s what she calls The Weed-

it’s a blackfella word she’s picked up-

The fact of “Yandi”‘s presence in her Vocabulary

betrays her too-much-time-in-Jail,

hanging out with the Black Sisters in the Yard.

Cheryl’s been around and is as hard

as nails and sharp as glass,

skinny as a rake, pure old school working class

but beneath her armour, I suspect,

there beats a raw and tender heart,

still nursing secret grief

for some dead, handsome boy the world

has long forgot,

whom once she loved in the Innocence

and the Folly of her Youth,

and with whom she planned a Future

“Ever After” underneath one roof..

.

***

WUWEI

***

??!!

The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity

and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism,

AND the Church of the Universe.

I mean..what more do you people want from the pooor man???

***

 

write something beautiful for me

•June 15, 2014 • Leave a Comment

 The Mask tease crop

write something beautiful for me

 

Write something beautiful for me,

She said, weave my portrait with your words,

put me in a poem

or a painting or a play.

 

My dear, I dared Demur,

I fear that it would be but

the Shadow of a Flower.

Paint that then, She said,

Paint my Shadow.

 

She did not realise what she asked,

Yet for Love I laboured long upon the task,

in those endless hours

between Dusk and Dawn,

something was broken and something was born.

Between rounds of love-making,

we would resume our endless converstion,

half psychotherapy/ half metaphysical speculation,

as she sat there sketching

page after page,

the Pop-Obsessions of her Age,

while I painstakingly painted her shadow.

 

I painted her whalebone white

in the depths of an endless night

Black upon black in midnight hues,

charoal and ink and ash slurried through

the rich, deep, pastel swirls of oil,

delicate trimmings of dust and lace,

spider silk to veil her face.

trimmed with velvet

stained with lust.

 

Secrets shared in Trust

are thrust behind dark curtains,

toothless shadows

who once ruled in

Silence

or by Violence,

they have no Power

Now Forever

they are trapped inside my Art.

 

When the painting was finished,

I hung it in my Gallery

with the Others I had captured over time.

But She was Free to leave

and so she left me,

as I knew she would,

And went to walk

the wide, bright world,

the Girl without a Shadow.

The mask face close up

 

***

ART

***

tai chi hand

The Reverend Hellfire is..

still whatever it was  I said here last week.

Hey! He’s a busy man!

***

The Reverend invokes the element of FIRE

The Reverend invokes the element of FIRE

And for those in the Reverend Hellfires geographical location don’t miss his Elemental Invocations with the Kurilpa Poets this Thursday June 19th at the West End Library.

for full details go to..

http://kurilpapoetry.wordpress.com/2014/06/12/578/

***

The REVEREND IS A SICK, SICK MAN

•June 8, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The Reverend is a sick, sick man and regrets

that he is far too unwell to be doing todays sermon.

Here it is

rabies delerium, 1930s

THE REVEREND IS SICK!

 

Burn my bones, Fever!

Keep burning till the charcoal

turns to diamonds in your fires.

Lick my broiling brow

till sweat

like little pearls

comes tearing down my face.

Boil my brain

in the stockpot skull,

Old Cauliflower on a stalk.

Stick bruised and yellowed grapes

for eyes on toothpick stems,

plant jagged splinters to impale

the swollen, bleeding bulbs.

 

Meanwhile,

like a dry and desiccating desert Sirocco,

sweeping through fanged and desolate ranges,

my burning breath bursts between

the cracked and peeling lips

in red, ragged gusts.

As Street fighting breaks out

in the lymph nodes and the veins,

the DNA struggles to reach

a Political Solution,

incorporating “moderate elements”

amongst the foreign invaders’ leadership

into the Organisation’s own genome.

Minor structural changes occur.

Leaderless the viral horde retreats

to lurk in unsuspected reservoirs

along with the Herpes Virus

and other dissident elements

to wait for the Day

the System finally collapses.

 

Meanwhile; “Minor structural changes occur“,

Call it Mutation. Call it Evolution.

God speaks the Truth to us through Chemistry,

a Litmus Testament of Tongues, Saying,

 

Admit it!

You are no more an Individual

than is a coral reef!

 

You die screaming then,

again and again

down long Corridors of Time.

 

But while the old Flesh rots and clots,

Swelling

Tumescent Glands burrow blindly

beneath the muscle,

like ticks/ like

monstrous new organs they

pulse and stretch

and struggle to speak,

they sing

strange, soothing songs,

that lull me to sleep

in a babble of vegetable tongues.

goat man

***

sound thinkingJPIG

***

tai chi hand strawberry circle

The Reverend Hellfire is a sick, sick man.

Most of the time he feels good about that.

***

***

 

 
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