Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Acid Flashback No. 43

“A foolish heart will call you to toss your dreams away, then turn around and blame you for the way you went astray.” ~ Grateful Dead 
                                                 
Happy New Year! I'm writing during a time in the holiday season when I'm not sure what day it is. If 2015 was called my year of Lionheart, then 2016 is the year of the gorilla. My New Year’s plans include studying Gorilla Monsoonsince I really can't climb the Empire State Building this year. I lost my company in 2015, but I want to wish my dear, dear friends a happy new year with lots of online shopping. Despite the really freaked-out, freaky-cool flashbacks of old WWF Wrestling and Lionheart Entertainment, it’s been a great year for Lifestyles of the Richard and Famous. We're going to a New Delhi next year when my wife is ready to go grocery shopping. Fortinos is getting boring and not as culturally diverse.

You might think that I’m writing another random blog, but I want to promote traffic and become responsible for less traffic accidents. The Great Beyond is where I’ve been giving you my heart and soul. This is a great place to create awareness on the issue of the craziness of traffic. I invented the idea of photo radar before Bob Rae started selling his concept of the idea on the campaign trail before it was first introduced to South Ontario in 1994. When you hear stupid stories like a giant monkey tries to cross the highway and causes a large traffic jam, remember live traffic cameras are watching you whenever you’re driving, so drive safely. Traffic is always evolving. I created the idea of a Traffic Channel and I want to share my passion for traffic in the next blog. My next big idea is turning the Traffic Channel into 11-D, or something way better than 3-D, where trucks are popping out of the TV screen while you’re watching your favorite station with sponsorships from Esso, Petro Canada and Mr. Lube. Stay tuned.

Truckin’ is a song by the Grateful Dead, which first appeared on their 1970 album. Lately it occurs to me, what a long, strange trip it’s been….

Tim Hortons Truck

Monday, December 28, 2015

Oh, Betty Is Pretty Fucking Good

“Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fuckin junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yersel in a home, a total fuckin embarrassment tae the selfish, fucked-up brats ye've produced. Choose life.” 

Lionheart Leaks vs. WikiLeaks, which is better, which publicizes better-leaked information, even if it's not info, in any way that's not affiliated with Wikipedia. If you Google 'choice' anywhere on the Internet, you'll learn it involves mentally making a decision: judging the merits of multiple options and selecting one or more of them. I regret choosing a junk food coma and falling asleep in the middle of King Kong. The movie is a technical achievement and it's also a curiously touching fable in which the beast is seen, not as a monster of destruction, but as a creature that, in its own way, wants to do the right thing. Even giant gorillas have feelings. What would drunk Betty White think?

I don't know, but the first step to recovery from addiction in Southern California is addiction treatment programs offered at the Betty Ford Center. Its expert, comprehensive alcohol and drug rehab integrates the latest research and evidence-based practices. With addiction, every person's situation is different. You might be wondering why I’m not writing about addiction treatment in Southern Ontario. The reason is that I’m not paid to promote the healthcare industry in Canada, but I'd like to advocate choice in other nations where it matters. 

Betty Ford

Monday, December 14, 2015

The Great Beyond Is A Good Place

Question: How do I evoke the broader illusions of grandeur?

Richard's heart
Answer: I give you my heart. I'm re-releasing Lionheart Leaks. I'm going to redefine magical realism one day. The struggle to define magical realism goes beyond the bloody human heart and it defines new rules with real choices and consequences. We are offered a new style that is thorough of this world and goes beyond the mundane. In my magical realism, we find the transformation of common work into awesome and unreal experiences that keep us waiting for the next shock.

Moral theology is a term used by the Roman Catholic Church to describe the study of God from a perspective of how man must live in order to attain the presence of favor of God. True moral theology determines how man should live and it examines such things as freedom, conscience, love, responsibility, and law. The New Year is a time to reflect on the past year with good and bad blogs. As I look back, the human study of morally wrong theology leads Beyond The Rum Diary: Hunting For Your Dream.

God gave Moses the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai to serve as principles of moral behavior for the human race. I believe God would go beyond the Ten Commandments if Moses were alive today. It's very difficult in publishing to capitalize on old trends with just two tablets of stone. Here are the ‘11 Commandments for the 21st Century.'

  1. Thou shalt not commit climate change on the world.
  2. Thou shalt not look at Billy Idol cover art.
  3. Thou shalt not sext your neighbor.
  4. Remember every day of the week, especially Tuesday, and keep it holy.
  5. Remember, before Alzheimer's takes memory away from you.
  6. Honor your goldfish if he or she is your only friend.
  7. Thou shalt not covet trillions of dollars.
  8. Thou shalt not commit cyberterrorism.
  9. Thou shalt not watch reality shows from ten years ago on YouTube.
  10. Thou shalt not declare World War 4.
  11. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything that is heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth using your iPhone or any electronic device.

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

The Great Unknown

So, we're all heading off into the great unknown....

Mo Money!












First Clause: Lionheart Leaks

As defined by the Richard Tattoni Free Dictionary, a clause is simply "a particular and separate damn article, stipulation, or proviso in a treaty, bill, or contract." I don't have a clause binding me to write tales of Lionheart Leaks, but I'm plotting fresh ideas for 60 to 70 installments in the offline serial novel not-yet-ready-to-blog.

And you can start by trying to find anything done online about Lionheart Leaks and simply go Beyond The Rum Diary. E.B. White was an American writer and lucky bastard who was a contributor to The New Yorker magazine. White believed "the best writing is rewriting." In other words, the best writing is editing. We find all kinds of free online books, but mine will be well-edited and it will shine a new light on your fears of radio. 


Second Clause: Ho, Ho, Ho 

Christmas is a time to give generously. "Ho, ho, ho" is a deep-throated laugh or chuckle used as the laugh of Santa Claus or even the Jolly Green Giant. The Daniel Blowden Show wishes everyone a happy holiday season. If you haven't finished your fucking shopping or you don't know what to buy, there are always goddamn gift cards: 

gift card
n.
  1. A prepaid credit card can be used as an alternative to cash.
  2. A gift that basically means, “Merry Christmas, I know literally nothing about you.”

I'm going to share a motherfucking poem:

Santa Claus Wasn't My Friend

I knew Santa Claus, who was trusty in his way,
When he came near, his busy elves ebbed away.
And with fond memories, Donner jingled away,
Ebbing or dying to go, Blitzen would run away.
Of his choice virtues, I can speak on his behalf,
Or hear the drunk and Rudolph’s red-nosed laugh.
(And they never did meet again on George Street).

I coined wishing wells for penniless spirits from hell,
His dreams dropped, twisting from sadness to grief.
He dreamed of his family, trapped in a prison cell,
He was behind bars, steel barriers without relief.
This would be the jolly old man’s ineffable fate
That he did time while Mrs. Claus played late.
(I wish they worked together on George Street).

The North Pole or Hamilton or any living land
Frightened just in time for a Christmas witch.
Mrs. Claus formed a steamy female punk band.
Near the playground, she would sing like a bitch
Or strolled with their child and dog to the store,
And he’d see them there and recall longing lore.
(Over a haze he wouldn’t work on George Street).
                                      
Let love be the demise of any other known man,
But not for this Santa Claus and his heart of stone;
He’s strong, unmistakable, and a trustworthy man.
One day he will pay his mortgage and bank loan.
Those past days were a decade to flash or blur,
Till a further step, he’ll live to support her.
(He wasn’t my friend on George Street).