Taking Out the Trash

Edward spent most of his time rescuing victims of sex trafficking and sexual exploitation, when one night he found Vivian in a dumpster.  He was a trained operative who gathered evidence and facilitated rescue missions with local police.  As a young boy, he was rescued from a dark place by a social worker and he made this his mission in life, hoping to contribute to making real changes in the world.  He has helped hundreds of girls and women that have been damaged because they were victims of horrific abuse.  He has taught them to value themselves and counseled them that there is much more to life than using their bodies to obtain things.

Edward was throwing out his trash, when he heard some faint sounds coming from the inside of the dumpster, and he assumed that it was a cat, or maybe a racoon.  It was similar to a moaning sound, and he figured that if it was a cat that it might be injured, so he should probably try and help it.  He climbed up on a box and when he looked inside, he saw this rolled up carpet that was dripping with blood and since the carpet was moving, he jumped in to try and help.  Edward was used to dumpster diving, but mostly he came up with body parts and now he was elated, because he wouldn’t have to be waiting on the results of an autopsy this time, if this woman was able to survive.  He lifted the rug out of the dumpster and unrolled it and found what appeared to be a young woman dressed up like a hooker inside and bleeding all over the place.  He called 911 and he went with her in the ambulance to the hospital.

Edward stayed by Vivian’s side every minute till she gained consciousness and she told him her story how this man turned her out on the street.  She fell in love with her pimp, even though he was cruel to her and one day after a trick gave her an extra tip, she kept some of the money.  Her pimp found out and he ran her over with his car, but she got up and started to run, so he stabbed her in the gut with his switchblade.  Vivian told Edward how to find her pimp and said that she would testify against him if that was necessary.  Edward told her that it wouldn’t come to that, as he felt that the best way he could help her, was for him to take out the trash and that night he killed the pimp.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt of Treasured Trash which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite.


This is not a story about regretting something that I should have said, in fact it is the opposite.  This is about something that I said and I regretted saying it, the second the words left my mouth.  I had these skin tags and my doctor had this cattle prod like device which she used to burn them off of me.  I only went to see her when they were bothering me, as my clothes would rub against them and they would become irritating.  She told me that when she was in college that she and her roommate would always remove skin tags from each other.  She removed some from my chest and then asked me if any others were bothering me.

I told her that I had a few in my groin area that were annoying me and I asked her if she could take a look at them.  She told me to get undressed and she handed me a cloth to cover my groin, as she left the room.  I stripped my shorts and underwear off and got back on the examination table and covered my genital area with the cloth.  She knocked on the door and I told her to come back in.  She got right to work saying that one of them did look painful and she would take care of it.  I pointed at several others and she said that she would get all of them for me.  Her hand slipped while she was removing one of them which caused the back of her hand to brush against my scrotum and she immediately apologized to me.

I told her it was OK and it was not unpleasant.  I couldn’t believe what I had just said to her, as thoughts raced through my mind that if it wasn’t unpleasant that I was saying it was pleasant.  I didn’t mean for it to come out that way and I started blushing and then as if I had no control over myself, I started growing bigger and that caused the cloth to fall off.  She smiled at me and said that she would be right back.  She had one of her nurses come back in with her and she told her nurse to hold the cloth in place, so she could finish up her work.  The nurse was very cooperative and didn’t seem to mind lending a helping hand and I am sure that it was just a part of another routine medical procedure for her.  It was a bit embarrassing for me, but I was happy to get rid of those skin tags.  For many years after the event, I kept going over in my head, why I had said it was not unpleasant.  If I would have just said, it did not hurt and I am OK, that would have saved me a lot of embarrassment, but then the nurse would have missed out on her opportunity to be involved in my procedure.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite which today is Speak Now, or Forever Hold Your Peace.

When the Sky Exploded

On June 30, 1908, the largest asteroid impact in recorded history occurred in remote Siberia, Russia and because of this, every June 30 is celebrated as International Asteroid and Meteor Day.  This mysterious explosion in Siberia leveled an area nearly the size of Tokyo, and debate continues over what caused it, as some people question whether it even came from space at all, or whether it erupted from the ground instead.  There are others that speculate that it was caused by a UFO and others link it to a death ray invented by Nikola Tesla.

Tesla teased that his “teleforce” weapon could shoot down airplanes from 250 miles away.  The press called the invention a death ray.  Tesla became obsessed with this invention, and on his eighty-fourth birthday, he announced he was almost ready to unveil his idea to the U.S. Government.  He believed it could be used to build an invisible Chinese Wall of defense around the country.  The U.S. Government acquired all of Tesla’s papers, as soon as he died.  J. Edgar Hoover Director of FBI declared it to be secret.  Tesla never provided much proof that the death ray worked, but people think that Ronald Reagan’s “Star Wars” program was based on this particle-beam technology.

The explosion on June 30, 1908, flattened some 500,000 acres (2,000 square kilometers) of Siberian forest.  Scientists calculated this explosion could have been roughly as strong as 10 megatons to 20 megatons of TNT, which would be 1,000 times more powerful than the atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima.  In the last decade, researchers have conjectured the event was triggered by an asteroid exploding in Earth’s atmosphere and measuring roughly 100 feet wide (30 meters) and 617,300 tons (560,000 metric tons) in mass making it more than 10 times the size of the Titanic.  It must have been a Great Ball of Fire.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite and her prompt today is a Great Ball of Fire.

Sometimes Mistakes Happen

We would all like to make life a more beautiful place, but the chances are when you are trying to create something, it probably won’t go perfectly in the beginning, but sometimes when mistakes are made, the result can be something beautiful and unique.  In fact, many of man’s most well-known inventions were simply mistakes made by scientists that were on an alternative quest.

In the late ‘60s I was living in the Soviet Socialist Republic, when I had a breakthrough that I believed would have world-wide ramifications far beyond my wildest dreams.  As the Cold War lurched toward its third decade, tense treaty talks between the United States and the Soviet Union alternated with demonstrations of world-smashing weapons.  American students hid under their desks, during duck and cover drills, while others were building fallout shelters.  I was an LSD test subject exploring the boundaries between the physical and astral planes.  I was locked up in a padded cell, wearing loose fitting clothing, and told to lie down and relax, when they turned the lights down low and the KGB gave me doses of Owsley Stanley’s acid.  The psychedelics interrupted my neural pathways, helping the Soviet’s paranormal research program, who were fascinated with the disturbing results.  They bombarded me with a high frequency electrical field that created a bluish-green “aura” that surrounded my body, in order to reveal a hidden layer of reality.

The KGB assured me that this would help me develop telepathy that I could use to connect with unseen forces.  I was in Saint Petersburg and another subject was stationed in Leningrad and we were supposed to read each other’s thoughts while we both wore these bioplasmic electrodes attached to our brains.  I could see Svetlana in Leningrad almost like I was hovering above her and I could read her thoughts.  Her brain called out to me saying, “Yuri don’t cooperate with these bastards and when they think that this experiment is a failure, they will be forced to shut it down.”   I knew she was right that if the communist scientists ever unlocked the key to projecting and controlling our spirits, nobody could predict the darkness that could descend on the world.  I stopped cooperating and the experiments ended, but I have always maintained a special connection with Svetlana and we ended up getting married.  This experiment became a beautiful mistake.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite which today is a Beautiful Mistake.

Mental Health

Masturbation at one time was seen as a possible cause of insanity, doctors also believed that masturbation could be a symptom of insanity.  They thought that once human reason had left the mind, that animal passions would be uncontrollable and many humans indulged in masturbation as a result.  A myriad of reasons or symptoms were behind patients being admitted to insane asylums back in the 1800s.  I am probably going to lose a lot of readers for this, but my eyes focused on Venereal Excess, so I picked this topic to discuss.   The people living in the Victorian period were very different from what we are today, so let’s see what I can find out.  A list of reasons of why people were institutionalized was compiled from the log book of the West Virginia Hospital for the Insane, and most of these reasons seem like a joke.

I have heard of syphilis driving people insane and I think that is what happened to Al Capone.  It must have been horrible having to live in an asylum back then and being locked up because the experts didn’t know the proper medical treatment for these people.  A lot of women were locked up after being diagnosed with Hysteria, which might just mean they experienced great excitement, but any behavior in the Victorian age that seemed abnormal was considered a medical disorder.  It was easy to say that something that you didn’t fully understand was a mental health issue.

It is a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.  Masturbation and Sexually Transmitted Diseases (STDs), which may stem from Sexually Transmitted Infections (STIs) are two topics that people are often reluctant to discuss.  Sexually transmitted infections and diseases (STIs and STDs) are transmitted through vaginal, anal, or oral sexual contact.  Charles-Paul Diday specialized in research of venereal disease, particularly congenital syphilis.  In order to prevent the spread of venereal disease in France, Diday advocated mandatory distribution of condoms in houses of prostitution.  In 1883, he wrote A Treatise on Syphilis in New-Born Children and Infants at the Breast, which was considered a landmark work on congenital syphilis.  This etiology, pathology and treatment of the diseases resulting from venereal excesses, masturbation and continence was the first of its kind.  It’s not possible to get a sexually transmitted infection from masturbating with objects.  However, infections can be spread if the objects are shared and someone has an infection.  If you don’t have an STD, you can’t get one from masturbating. The only exception to that is if you’re using an infected sex toy to masturbate with, as condoms can be used on toys that go into the vagina or anus.

Sexually transmitted infections such as chlamydia (which is the most commonly reported bacterial STI in the United States), gonorrhoea (which used to be known as the clap), herpes simplex virus (usually transmitted by kissing or oral sex) and syphilis (sores typically on your genitals, rectum or mouth) commonly come with rectal symptoms like anal pain, and bleeding.  If you engage in any type of unprotected anal sex which includes rimming (oral-anal sex) as well as anal fingering STI transmission is possible.  Ok, I think that I dug deep enough into this topic and since by now, everyone of my readers has disappeared, and I will probably never get another reader on any of my posts, I am done with my investigation.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite which today is Victorian Age Reasons for Admissions into a mental institution.

Danger to the Road

Michael is asking all of us to write about driving and that is difficult for me as this topic is too vast, so I will reminisce on a few of my old memories.  Back in the old days before seatbelts were standard issue in cars, my dad would let me sit on his lap, so I could pretend that I was driving the car, which was a lot of fun for a kid.  I failed my written test, so I had to take it again and then I failed my behind the wheel driving test 3 times.  Once was because the registration was out of date, and another time was because the front seat was not locked in place, so these had nothing to do with my driving.  The third time, I was at a stop sign and I pulled out in front of this other car and the driving test instructor felt that I should have waited, but I saw the opening and I took it.

I had several accidents and I got a few tickets, but I am not going to get into all of that here in this post, as I was kind of a wild teenager.  After several accidents and receiving a few tickets my parents suggested that I sign up for the Student Driver education class at the High School, but when I went to register for the class, apparently my reputation had proceeded me and they said, “Adams you are not going to wreck any of our cars.”  I think that I am a very good driver, although when I was younger, I was a bit reckless.  The first day I got my driving permit, my dad gave me his car so I could go out with my friends and most of them were wild.  We picked up a few six packs and had several joints and a pipe going around in the VW, when I got on the highway and it started raining.  It was kind of a trial by fire learning experience.  I had to be a multi tasker, because it was hard to keep an eye on my friends as they started throwing golf balls out the window to watch them bounce around and I still shift gears at the same time.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt hosted by Michael.

Cats Are On the Upgrade

Jethro Tull’s fifth studio album Thick as a Brick, was released in March ‘72, a year after Aqualung came out.  Many people thought that Aqualung was a concept album, as it contained characters and themes which continued from one song to the next, but Ian Anderson denied that and he said, “I will show you what a concept album is”, so he wrote this fun album that encroached on mocking the whole concept of a concept album.  Ian drew on his own childhood and early experiences for ideas for sections within the overall work and this album became one continuous track spread across two sides of an LP that turned into an epic poem by a fictional eight-year-old genius Gerald Bostock, filled with absurdity.  Ian wrote this very natural, organically evolving piece of music, that had sort of a Monty Python quality to it, that came from an idea in his head of this parody approach by creating this idea that this album would become the mother of all concept albums, which he wanted it to be.  It presented the preposterous notion that an eight-year-old boy had won a prize for writing this saga in a poetry competition.  The young boy sees two career paths for himself, either soldier or artist and he chooses to become a soldier.  The prize was rescinded after a panel of psychologists determined the poet was unbalanced, as the poem revealed an extremely troublesome attitude toward life, his God and country, so the governing body disqualified him on moral grounds.

Some people viewed it as it was a real story, thinking that it was actually written by a schoolboy and Ian turned these thoughts into an album.  The album became what this youth might be able to accomplish and essentially, it’s a possible future of what might happen.  A single ‘Thick As A Brick’ was released in April 1972, by editing and skimming the best parts of the album, reducing a three-quarter-hour masterwork into a 3 minute song, but it failed to make the charts on either side of the Atlantic.  This was an odd thing for Jethro Tull to do as this continuous long song featuring Side 1 being Thick as a Brick part 1 ran 22:31, and Side 2 was part 2 which clocks in at 21:05, thus this never had any chance of ever getting played on the radio.  As far as concept albums go, it is awesome, unless you can’t stand the flute.  The album did make it to #5 in the UK, and in the US, it topped the Billboard chart for two weeks.  It remains Jethro Tull’s second-biggest seller in America, and critics and fans generally adored it.

Anderson composed this album believing that progressive rock had become a touch too arrogant, and that they needed to be pulled back down to earth.  “Thick as a brick” is a phrase that means stubbornly dumb, slow to understand just not getting it, remarkable stupid, possibly dimwitted, as if your head is so thick that no new thoughts can ever make their way into it.  I love this line, “And you wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick”, as it has this condescending tone to it, like there are a lot of people out there who think that they are smarter than they actually are.

See there, a man was born and we pronounce him fit for peace
There’s a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease
We’ll take the child from him, put it to the test
Teach it to be a wise man, how to fool the rest

We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
Oh, fluffy duck
We walked through the maternity ward and saw two hundred and eighteen babies wearing nylons
It says here that cats are on the upgrade (upgrade?)
Hipgrave, downgrades are rare, it’s got that fat and old cat

In the clear white circles of morning wonder, I take my place with the lord of the hills
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured
In neat little rows sporting canvas frills

With their jockstraps pinching, they slouch to attention
Whilst queueing for sarnies at the office canteen
Saying “how’s your granny?” and good old Ernie
Coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win

The legends worded in
The ancient tribal hymn
Lie cradled in the seagull’s call
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist’s fall

The poet and the wise man stand behind the gun, behind the gun
And signal for the crack of dawn, light the sun, light the sun
Do you believe in the day?
Do you believe in the day?

The dawn creation of the kings has begun, has begun
Soft Venus, lovely maiden brings the ageless one, the ageless one
Do you believe in the day?
Do you believe in the day?

The fading hero has returned to the night, to the night
And fully pregnant with the day, with the day, wise men endorse the poet’s sight
Do you believe in the day?
Do you believe in the day?

Let me tell you the tales of your life
Of your love and the cut of the knife
The tireless oppression, the wisdom instilled
The desire to kill or be killed
Well, let me sing of the losers who lie
In the street as the last bus goes by
The pavements are empty, the gutters run red while the fool toasts his god in the sky

So come all ye young men who are building castles!
Kindly state the time of the year
And join your voices in a hellish chorus
Mark the precise nature of your fear

Let me help you pick up your dead
As the sins of the father are fed
With the blood of the fools and the thoughts of the wise
And from the pan under your bed
Well, let me make you a present of song
As the wise man breaks wind and is gone
While the fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose and the nursery rhyme winds along

So come all ye young men who are building castles
Kindly state the time of the year
And join your voices in a hellish chorus
Mark the precise nature of your fear
See the summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
And the hour of judgement draweth near
Would you be the fool stood in his suit of armour or the wiser man who rushes clear?

So, come on ye childhood heroes!
Won’t your rise up from the pages of your comic-books, your super-crooks
And show us all the way?
Well, make your will and testament
Won’t you join your local government?
We’ll have Superman for president
Let Robin save the day

So where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?
They’re all resting down in Cornwall writing up their memoirs
For a paper-back edition of the Boy Scout Manual

So you ride yourselves over the fields
And you make all your animal deals
And your wise men don’t know how it feels
To be thick as a brick, yeah

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt hosted by Michael where he asks us to respond to the phrase “In the thick of it”.

My Day in Court

I had the oddest feeling of apprehension as I entered the courtroom, as you never know what to expect in there.  I was pulled over for failing to come to a full stop at a stop sign and it wasn’t the fine that I was worried about, I just didn’t need any more points going on my license, so I made an appointment with a lawyer to discuss my case.  My lawyer informed me that if I was guilty that this could result in a $200 fine and up to 15 days in jail, as well as 2 points being assessed to my driving record.  I couldn’t afford those points. as I had just passed the New Jersey Motor Vehicle Services driving school which was run by the State Troopers.  I was forced to attend this after having accumulated 21 points on my license, but this prevented my license from being suspended.  I got a few speeding tickets and I was pulled over for reckless driving and drag racing and this would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

My lawyer told ne that I didn’t need him and that I should represent myself in court, which meant that he was not charging me for the consultation.  I showed up in court wearing a shirt and a tie like the lawyer recommended and the police officer who gave me the ticket testified that I ran the stop sign.  It was my turn to talk and I said that if the officer said that I did not stop, then he must have been driving without his headlights on, as I came to a full stop and since nobody was coming, I pulled out and made a right turn.  The whole courtroom cracked up laughing when I said this about the cop.  The police officer was discredited and the judge ruled in my favor dismissing the case.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt hosted by Michael while Yves is taking a well-deserved rest and today the prompt is write about something using a variation of two of the given choices in the following sentence, “I had the oddest feeling of elation/fear/apprehension as I entered the courtroom/restaurant/ghost train.”

Canned Laughter

I always hated those comedy shows that featured artificial audience laughter inserted into the show, as when it is time for me to laugh, I will and I don’t need to be reminded.  WTF, Major League Baseball shown of Fox now has fake fans, and they can make them boo and cheer, do the wave, and they dress them in team colors.  Has baseball lost its mind, as I don’t need virtual fans with fake fan audio piped in.  This is the weirdest season ever as teams are trying to find ways to remain engaged with fans during a pandemic-delayed season in which games won’t include spectators.  Seriously having fake cutouts of people in the stands is not doing anything for baseball and who let that dog in.  I guess it is pretty cool watching a foul ball knock off the cardboard heads in the stands.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt hosted by Yves where the prompt is Lockdown.

My Lost Dream

I had a dream that I wrote a poem.
I was sleeping in my bed at my home.
All the verses were clear in my head.
The meaning of life was about to be said.
Life and death would soon be told.
The secrets of the universe could unfold.
Passions were to be revealed.
My lips would not be sealed.
I tried to wake myself up, so I could write it down.
I kept on struggling, I felt like I was about to drown.
Then I lost all of my thoughts and my words were no longer clear.
My mind was blank, the story was gone and it would not reappear.
I woke up crying and worried about the poem that I had just lost.
I felt awful, as I knew what not waking from my dream had cost.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt “Dreams” hosted by Yves.