Friday, October 2, 2009

Church of the Blue Moon

Church of the Blue Moon
Moon Beams on your naked booty

Greetings and Blessings for All
Welcome to The ancient Church of the Blue Moon! (founded 2009) May you not drop your last bran muffin in the camel's Pen. May they not name a new social disease for you and your pet cat and, finally, May your orthodontist not be cited for harboring beavers. On the affirmative side, may all your blind dates glow in the dark!

At the Church of the Blue Moon we maintain a positive attitude. We feel that "The carrot or the stick" is just a crummy offer from a sex offender. We don't like that! Our favorite thing is the blessing.... So, bless you, dirt ball (just kidding!) We also like good works like giving to the poor and not copping a "tude" "Can't we all just get along?" Well, of course we can.

If the church can help you along on your way then our mission will be fulfilled. Did Barbara Bush get all down and mopey when she visited West Texas and boll weevils ate her hair down to the roots? Hell no! she just prayed to her Satan and it all grew back (of course, again, the joke was on her.)

As founder of the Church, it is about time to let you know who I am. I'm the evil Rush Limbaugh (no I'm not) My name is Farrell Hamann so, when you're making out the check, please get it right. Bless you! I'm not the other Farrell Hamann. I never played college basketball and the other one probably never owned a Studebaker Silver Hawk. I was ordained years ago by the Universal Life Church, the one located in Modesto. They are nice down there and let you start up your very own church.

One thing, please no jihad against the Church of the Blue Moon. I'm on your side, really. PLUS, I have protection! I have been slapped by a Guru, if that's not a blessing, I don't know what is.... (it happened in Detroit, more later.) Some years ago there was a jihad against Barney. "I love you, you love me, we're as happy as can be", that Barney. Don't know if it is still in effect. Hard to hide if you're Barney the purple dinosaur.

Off on a tangent; I was gored by a bull in Mexico. That was no fun except the roar of the crowd when I grabbed it by the horns thinking I could flip it over and then run away. Yeah right!, that didn't happen. I must have been asking for it when the bull found me lurking like a flattened tick in a shallow doorway. The bull didn't laugh like a lunatic as did that Guru.

Why did I decide to become a man of the cloth, you ask? Why is easy, so I could Bless you, that's why. Bless you! WHEN I decided is a little more difficult to pin down. I think it was when I was up in Alaska, warming myself over some fresh bear droppings. It was nasty cold and the chill winds were blowing in through the holes in my pants. Life seemed dire and, in fact, it was. My matches were wet and I knew there was at least one bear I couldn't count on in the immediate future.

Ah, to survive, to survive, that was key! And then? Like magic, a hole opened up in the clouds and a thin ray of sunshine streamed down upon a chipmunk, who, laughing in chipmunk, alerted me to it's presence. Food and warmth, I thought, a double header. I made a grab for the little bugger but missed then claimed the sunshine as my own. Ha Ha, the blessings flowed that day, let me tell ya.

I have the most practice blessing my wife, I put my hand upon her head and say, bless you. That does the Job. I started blessing her in exchange for her promise to stop telling people that I lie in our bed staring up at the textured ceiling and seeing scary faces. That's not something I want her to be telling people, evil blackmailer!

Moving along..... How can you join the Church? Not a problem. Consider yourself joined and I'll email you all the things you'll have to do later. What other church hits you with all the big stuff right up front? Not many, I'm sure. That would kill the mood right then and there.

Check this out; since you'll be getting in at the beginning, there could be some cushy roles ahead, my dear Acolyte. We'll work out the rituals and titles later. For now, you can simple refer to me as: The Exulted One. To tell you the truth, as I always will, I've wanted to be a man of the cloth since I was tiny, So tiny that I had to wear a back brace to stay out of the fetal position.

Bless you Grasshopper (s)

The Exulted One

Aimless Wanderer

Welcome Aimless Wanderer and Bless You!
Aimless Wanderer you have arrived, you are home! The Church of the Blue Moon welcomes you with open arms. Bless You! While aimless wandering has it's own purpose, eventually, you may desire to become a SEEKER. When you wander about seeking, it is not aimless. Yes, even I, THE EXULTED ONE was once an Aimless Wanderer. Wandering from garbage can to garbage can seeking nothing and NOTHING is what I found! Not a productive state of affairs... I want more for you, my little ones, for to seek, you may FIND! Bless you! I wanted, yearned for something more and suspect you do also, (if not, we'll work on it, together)

I was Blessed early in life from a Higher Power, a BIRD, actually. What kind of Bird? I can not tell you. It was large, had yellow feet, and, if you got too close, gave you a creepy look that said; Back off! I did back off to a safe distance but I watched that BIRD, the situation being that nothing much was happening anyway. Watching the bird hopping about, I saw something that bird had going for it that was missing in my life, purpose! What at first seemed like aimless wandering, a big, stupid bird pointlessly hopping about, (and which, I'm ashamed to say, I cruelly mocked, "Ha ha, you goofy ass bird") turned out to be nothing less that SEEKING! Maybe it was just a bunch of greasy french fries, but that bird was making out! I watched it carefully! You know what? It hopped right up to a fifty cent piece, eyeballed it, then hopped away! Soon, I had my own new bag of greasy fries, and not being unkind, flipped one over to that bird. Now I SEEK, and yes, I do thank that bird profoundly. Blessings Abound!

Tired now, dear Acolyte and Aimless Wander, (hope you learned a lesson here: Watch the Birds!!!, SEEK!!!) Next lesson with be an introduction to the "Mysteries of the eleventh and twelfth Grades" till then, Bless You!

Acolyte Page: Mysteries of the 11th and 12 Grades

Welcome Dear Acolyte and Bless You! Today I will discuss The Mysteries of the 11th and 12th Grades. Unlike some of you educated scholars, during the 11th and 12th grade, I was not not in study hall (or even in the hall itself, rattling my locker) or gigging a toad, or boning up on this or that, or passing notes back and forth, and making spitballs. no. I was workin, grabbing scalding hot bagels, freshly boiled in the kestle, and flipping them onto boards. Trusted, that I was, I worked that kestle! Boil em too long and they turned out huge and puffy, no hole at all, and what is a bagel with no hole? Boil em too short and they're hard and small and would break you teeth. I was responsible and took my job seriously, I made a good bagel! If you were a hippy, you got free bagels. It drove the boss crazy! ("Hey!, you're giving away all my bagels!" Not just one bagel, mind you, they'd get a whole string of em, in those days we'd put em on a loop of white cotton string.

We'd deliver the bagels in an old Ford Van with a ratty clutch. Every time the clutch made the van lurch, which it did often, the old man would say: "Hold er, Newt, she's headed for the barn!" Ha ha ha ha ha ha, funny!

Thinking back in life, I realize that, in a sense, we're all "headed for the barn" Yes, life can be rough, and when I'd wave to the pretty girls walking by the bagel factory (with my bright red, scalded hands), headed for the 11th or 12th grade (where I should have been!), I'd ponder. Do I go for the safety and ease of the barn or do I LEAP THE FENCE. Well, I did leap that fence and never looked back!

From the Desk of The Exulted One, for the instruction and Blessing of the Acolyte, Bless you! Welcome Acolyte!, You have made a wonderful decision, to join with us at the Church of the Blue Moon (Redemption not assured). Bless you! As your leader, The Exulted One, I have a great responsibility to impart the wisdom learned from the hard lessons of my life as an Aimless Wanderer, bagel flipper with red, scalded hands, and my insights into the mysteries of the 11th and 12th grades. Your road will be hard and long, and you may be beset with doubts as I was, fear not. My guiding fingers, er, hands will point the way of becoming a Seeker, for then you may Find! I learned from that large bird in that dismal parking lot so many years ago, An aggressive bird that gave me the clear message: BACK OFF! Do not back ye off from the fruitful bounty of life, NO! Back off to a safe distance and observe. That day I walked away with my own tasty bag of greasy fries (thank you bird) Bless you! Watch, learn, observe! and never look back!Blessings now and always! The Exulted One

Lone Camel of the Desert

Lesson number one, Dear Acolyte: Never trust a camel! Noble beast the camel is, you must never turn your back on the creature. It seems to inflame them with passion and perhaps resentment. The Camel is a passionate animal and has it's own ways which must be respected. Foolish youth that I was, I misunderestimated that passion and payed the price. Biologist may say this or that about the camel, but to me, the camels acts, no less, then like a rotten teenager! Watching, waiting for the first opportunity for malicious mischief. The cunning, passionate animal strikes the first second you let you guard down! Oh boy, that camel nailed me a good one. Face down, I was, in a heap of dung, kicked and spat upon. The worse part is the mocking, pitiless leer while you are upon the ground, wiping yourself off and checking for broken bones. Nothing can express contempt like a camel! Heard enough you say? No!, at the last, the camel plays victim like a Hollywood actor, sulking and kicking up clods with big, sad eyes. It is almost too much to endure.

Why then, Exulted One? Dear Acolyte, you have every right to ask how the camel became pillar of the Church of the Blue Moon. Even I wizened by the trials of life on this earthly plane have struggled with this issue and plunged into the depths of My very soul for an answer. Answers sometimes come reluctantly and in their own good time, so it was with me. Lying on my cot, bruised and beaten as I was from the onslaught of the Mighty Camel of the Desert, I drifted into a fitful and restless sleep. Upon awaking, I looked up to the textured ceiling, scanning for the inevitable venomous spider known in that local. No spider, ah, I thought, one less thing.... Then, I noticed it! The camel! in the texture and shadows of the cracked ceiling, starring down, the beady eyes of the very camel that put me down like a bug. With a look on its wicked camel face like a teen that wanted the car and was going to get it. I knew my goose was cooked! I was silent with fear but got the message and camel got the keys to the Church. Mercifully, sleep took hold again and delivered me into peaceful slumber.

Since that fateful day, Acolyte, I have made peace with Camel and like the harried parent of teens everywhere, hauling boxes of pizzas, face cream, and waiting in an icy parking out outside a burger joint, turned over the keys. Not defeat, accommodation. An so, Dear Acolyte, you have learned the first lesson of the Church of the Blue Moon. Bless you!

Temptation of the Salty Sea

Welcome Acolyte and seeker. The Church of the Blue Moon is pleased that you have chosen the path of learning and have advanced to lesson II of this series set forth by your spiritual leader, The Exulted One. As you may know, your leader suffered many trials and setbacks before attaining the wisdom necessary to fulfill the rigorous demands placed upon a Church leader. It is to be hoped that my travails will benefit you in you quest to SEEK and FIND rather then be THE AIMLESS WANDERER that I once was. Bless you, Acolyte! Bless you!

I could say that my difficulties began when I was Shanghaied By the evil Captain of the Polar Cyst, a sinister vessel of no known flag. Not so! The mistakes and failings of my early life landed me there, a smelt in an creek filled with toothy pike.

Had I only followed the sage advice of my Blessed Ma and furthered my career in the recycled bottle industry! Ma knew best, herself an expert tester of beer, always "clanking another one down the gullet" as she would so sweetly describe. A thrifty woman, putting each empty bottle securely away for her only son's future. When the mountain of bottles shifted, pinning dear old Ma to the dank cellar floor, crushing her like a wine grape, I knew I must go, and run I did.

taking refuge under the pier and in the company of a number of shady characters, my thoughts turned inward. I thought deeply for perhaps the first time in my young life. My thoughts were cut short, however when one one the larger and more disreputable of the bunch pointed a dirty, mangled finger at me and yelled: "That one'll do!"

Somehow, I would up in the bowels of that decrepit wreak, the Polar Cyst. Ankle deep in fetid, oily water. All I knew was to bail, bail, bail with my flimsy bucket. Bilge Rat, they called me, and bilge rat was what I ate every meal, if I could catch one. I was not a happy boy.

It was dark down there, a five watt light bulb the sole source of light and warmth. Have to tell you, Norway rat, grilled on a five watt bulb is not the world's worst meal. Still, my thoughts turned to escape....

I turned to prayer but my "prayers" went unanswered. I prayed harder, still nothing! Then and there I knew Ma's "Church o' Beer" Praying wasn't going to cut it. Starting right then, I decided my very own church was the route for me, no pop the cap and spit at the evil one. If only I received a "sign from above", Then I would know I was on the right track.

Wouldn't you know it!, just then, that exact second, a big, juicy rat slipped off one of the overhead pipes and landed smack in front of me! I trapped it in my bucket! A Blessing from above!

Shortly after my prayers were answered and I got my "sign", One of the crew came down the hatch, dragged me up into the blinding sunlight and threw me overboard. It seems the Coast Guard was bearing down on them so I got thrown into the briny deep. The Polar Cyst turned North into a fog bank and I was washed ashore.

So, Beloved Acolyte, the temptation of the salty sea was to follow the old ways and not follow my heart. That is the lesson I brought to you today. I still have Ma's old bottle cap puller here as a Holy Relic but the Church of the Blue Moon, Moon Beams on you Naked Booty, forges ahead. Bless you!

Your humble leader, The Exulted One

Enlightened boy at School for bad girls

Dear Acolyte thank you for your continued interest in matters spiritual and welcome to another lesson from the Leader of the Church of the Blue Moon, The Exulted One. My intention here is to instill in you the notion that you may escape the bonds of ignorance through hard work, study, and meditative thought.

Oh that I were given the helping hand that reaches out to you, my Acolyte. My years of AIMLESS WANDERING, have taken a toll but I find your youth and energy healing. For that I Bless and thank you. Bless you, Acolyte! This lesson entails that period of my young life whence I escaped the evil clutches of the Captain of the Polar Cyst. Yes, I was washed ashore, but I was cleansed not only by the surf of the salty sea, but cleansed by the faith of my newly founded religion, the Church of the Blue Moon. I did ingest a substantial amount of salt water, to dramatic effect, I might add, but never mind that. I was made pure and wholesome, and my eyes were opened to the wonder of the Universe.

Not far from that rocky shore where the sea spit me out, wrapped in seaweed and scratched by barnacles, was, a small village. Looking closer, I realized it was not a village, but rather a very large home or school where school age girls were dashing about. It seemed a safe refuge for a boy thrown upon the shore of a cruel coast of Pirates and evil mariners. I would scout around and find a safe camp.

Darkness fell and by then the effects of my shipboard diet of Norway Rat and the swallowed salt water was creating a distress in my bowels. lucky for me, there was a full moon that night enabling me to find a private spot to seek relief. No sooner did I drop my tattered trousers and assume the position, as it were, a loud and raucous cackle emerged from the direction of the school. By the pitch an timbre of the voice I could tell it was a teenage girl, first one then several joining in. Mocking, screaming and poking girlish arms out of the barred windows of the 4 story tower. Life with Ma had conditioned me early that all embarrassment was pointless and I was her best student.

Ma's solution to a problem was to hurl a beer bottle at it and that seemed to work for her. I didn't need enemies just then so I ignored the girls and slipped quietly into the shrubbery. I found a nice clear spot next to the substantial iron fence and fell into a deep sleep. Morning came and I awoke with a start when a girl inside the fence, poked me with a very long stick. " Wake up, freak", she whispered with the hiss of a viper. "I need you to take a note to my boyfriend!" I looked at her, she looked at me and I looked at the sandwich she was nibbling on. We made sort of an animal agreement then and there and my career as a messenger started at the end of a pointy stick.

The deal was, essentially, I do what ever the girls wanted in exchange for food. Mostly, I was sent into the real village to hunt down their boy friends, give them notes, and always be a spy. The work suited me just fine. I started putting on weight.

Besides delivering little notes, sometimes the girls would send me to pick up odd items at the little stores in town. Once I had to bring in some cleaning supplies for the girls. As a punishment, they were often required to clean their entire rather Gothic habitat with tooth brushes and the like. The girls would save countless hours with more practical tools of the trade. Life was good!

One fateful day, Girl 89065 edged close to the fence where I was concealed under my favorite bush. I knew there was going to be trouble. Girl 89065 worked for Girl 63208R. Apparently the "R" referred to a prior runaway situation long before I showed up. Girl 63208R was a big, tall, scary girl and always had some hapless girl doing little "favors" for her. Anyway, the flunky girl worked her way over to me pretending to snip errant blades of grass with a pair of rounded kiddie scissors. That how they did it at the "School.", snip here, snip there, snip, snip, snip.

Girl 63208R glared at me from a distance while -65 handed me the note and I took my instructions. I know that if I slipped up, I might never eat again or, perhaps, would be speared through the fence. Whatever it was, I had to do it. Naturally, the evil one was working hard on my merry little assignment. I had to go over to the School for Bad Boys, and deliver the note!

"You know I can't go over there!", I cried pointlessly to -65. Being a bit small of stature, and no one really knowing my true age, they'd grab me and I'd wind up a lifer in there!

I went! I skirted around town and positioned myself along the fence, waiting until the boys came out of the barracks for "Yard time" I didn't know the boys as well as the girls so I was at a disadvantage. All I know was that the message was supposed to go to Boy 1955H, the "H" was supposed to stand for homicide according to legend among the girls. My knees were knocking together, I was so scarred. I was supposed to look for the biggest, meanest looking boy at The School for Bad Boys, that'd be the right one and then I could see the number sewed on his coveralls. That was the plan. You couldn't just yell. If I did, it would be a over in less time than it took Ma to drain a six pack.

I tossed a pebble and bonked the huge teen right on the side of his head. He turned and I swear his eyes glowed red even in the sunlight! With barely a non, four or five of the town's most wicked boys jumped up out of the bushes and grabbed me. They ripped the balled up, sweaty note from my hand. It was a setup! These boys were fresh out on probation and owed a lot of favors to somebody.I bonked the wrong boy on the head with the pebble!

Boy 1955H wasn't quite the tallest, huskiest boy, just the one most like to slit your throat! Clutching the note, the boys dragged me to a small forested area near the school. I knew if I even barely squeaked, it would be curtains! The boys puzzled over the note, they couldn't make it out! Maybe my sweaty hands made the ink run, or perhaps, they just couldn't read that well, I never found out. Nevertheless, there was something on that bit of paper that made the leader of the town boys crazy mad and he started for me with huge hands outstretched. "I'll rip your little a..."

With a tremendous leap into a thorny hedge, a rough slide down a rocky hill, and the aid of a passing turnip truck. I managed to escape my once peaceful abode. Once again, there was no looking back. Now with a more mature understanding of life I see that the lesson is that even confusion can be a Blessing from on high.

"How is that possible, Exulted One, we don't understand?""That is how it works, son, that's how it works! Bless you!!!"But...?"

From the desk of the Exulted One

Charm of the belly crawling reptile
Lessons for the Acolyte

Dear Acolyte, Bless you! Let us get to the lesson right away shall we. I am running a little late today, unfinished business.

I say, Acolytes, with not a little regret that I was at one time a naughty, naughty boy. I lied, I was sneaky, I took advantage of the gullible.

"Say that is not true, Exulted One. Not you, the bringer of light!!"

Yes tender Acolyte. I was a bright but naive boy , and was charmed by the wiles of the belly crawling reptile.

"A reptile, Exulted One?

Yes, Son, a snake and Bless You!

Spending as much time as I did, hiding in trees and shrubbery outside the School for Bad Girls, where I was living, I learned to catch and handle snakes with some degree of skill. I even caught and sold a few to the boys in the village. Several times I removed a snake or two from a basement or crawl space under a house, charging a modest fee.

At first, of course, I hesitated to spend much time in the village due to the fact that I was a school age boy living on his own and by his own wits. I was afraid that the authorities would take an interest in me, haul me in and put me in the School for Bad Boys until they figured out where I belonged. That was my greatest fear.

One day, a circus came to town and set up tents on the outskirts of the village, near the School for Bad Girls. Nearly penniless, I managed to sneak in under a poorly staked down flap of canvas and look around. The older village boys had warned me that the circus was always on the lookout for sneaky boys like me. If they caught you, they'd likely feed you to the tigers or worse. Still, I wanted in there, I was a very curious boy.

"Exulted One, they would never feed a child to a tiger!"

Yes, Son, Maybe not, but remember, I was a boy who, not long before, was eating undercooked rat in the leaky bilge of the Polar Cyst, A dark vessel of unknown flag! Trust does not come easily to a child tossed casually into a stormy sea by pirates and brigands. Down in the hold of that ship, if lucky, eating my rat, I would dream of a better life. I would dream my overturned bucket a fine table in an elegant restaurant. One Norway rat, please, rare, hold everything else. Sad and dreary, but that is how I made it through my days and nights, if you call day and night an unblinking five watt bulb.

To my good fortune, I encountered a fine, tall fellow with a large yellow basket,a Snake Charmer. Of course, he knew immediately that I was a boy without a ticket but seemed to care less. In fact, as he later related, He had, snuck into this very same circus as a boy, learning his craft from an elderly Charmer.

For three happy days, before the circus packed off their tents and animals, the Snake Charmer imparted a wealth of information of the care and handling of snakes. I learned how to grab them properly, how to hold them, and more than a little of their psychology.

"Psychology, Exulted One?"

Yes, Son, everything with a brain has a psychology, even an Acolyte!


As a parting gift, the Snake Charmer gave me my very own small basket and several turbans, cut down to fit the size of my head. He even gave me an exotic little snake which, although not venomous, had a nasty disposition and he had given up trying to train it. He though that, with more time on my hands, I could do something with that unruly creature. Fangy, I called it, even though it was a fangless snake. It was a nasty snake, however, and could give you a painful bite.

I loved the turban! With the turban, the village people just blindly assumed I was a native of some foreign land where people ran somewhat compact. It was perfect for a boy trying to avoid capture by the authorities and being send away to the Boy's Home.

The girls at the School for Bad Girls laughed at me and my little snake, Fangy, and the turban. Let em laugh, I thought, Ma would have simply pinned a fresh bottle of beer up against her face, making her already crazy eyes triple in size in the most alarming way and emit a terrifying screech like a rusty drawbridge. No one got the better of Ma!

The little snake never warmed up to me as I hoped it would. It was always crabby, even for a snake and had a fearsome bite. It would grab on your finger and hang on like a bulldog while you hopped up and down trying to shake it off. I tried everything to make it happy and like me but to no avail. I fed it good, I knew what kind of bug it liked and what kind it didn't. There was nothing warm and furry about that smake!

"Warm an furry, Exulted One?"

Bless You, Acolyte, just an expression. Though I was determined to make friends with that snake, it never happened. I started to get the feeling that it was up to no good. It started watching me with those beady eyes and it was creepy, like it was working on a plan. I tried praying for a sign from above to help me get on better terms with Fangy. I felt my little one boy church helped save me from the evil Captain of the Polar Cyst and perhaps it would intercede now. I was waiting for that sign from above.

One inexplicable talent Fangy had was it could always, always tell if there was another snake near by. It would turn facing the direction of the snake, wherever the snake happened to be and flick out its blue, forked tongue like it was licking an all day sucker. It never failed. It would flick the tongue toward a bush or a pile of rocks and there always was a snake in there. Remarkable, really. Fangy helped me catch a lot of snakes.

One day, I was out sitting in my little camp with Fangy near the tall iron fence next to the School for Bad Girls, wearing my turban. Fangy was sunning himself on top of his snake charmer basket. He wasn't going to run away, he knew I'd just catch him again. I was thinking hard about how I could get that darn snake to warm up to me. My whole snake charming future seemed to be tied up in that ornery critter. I guess Fangy just didn't find me so charming. His serpent eyes eyed me coldly, with a look of mockery and cold-blooded loathing. Still, this snake was my future and I would never give up on him.

Just then, Bad Girl 89065 showed up near the iron fence, pretending to snip some blades of grass, eyes darting about. Oh no, I thought, Bad Girl 63208R was up to something. 65 was 08R's little helper, spy, and messenger. This was not a good development on account of Bad Girl 08R being the toughest, meanest girl in the entire school.

What?, I whispered, my young voice cracking.

o8R wants a snake and she wants it right now! You gotta get her a snake!

Trouble, now there was serious trouble, I had hunted down and sold all the snakes in the territory, just about. There were no snakes to be had and 08R wants hers right now, this minute! If 08R didn't get her snake, she'd might denounce me to the authorities and they'd plunk me directly in the school for Bad Boys. Remember, I wasn't that big and nobody knew my real age, I'd become a lifer, in there for all eternity!

"Gimmy your snake", Bad Girl 89065 said, looking quite nervous herself. "She doesn't get her snake, we all die!" 065 wasn't fooling, beads of sweat were pooling on her forehead and there was a tremor in her voice. "Come on, give me the darn snake!"

I looked over to Fangy, Fangy was my only hope to become a world famous snake charmer. I couldn't give him up. Maybe I should just grab Fangy an run! Head for the tracks, jump on a train, anything! I would try a little deception to gain some time.

Just let me catch Fangy some bugs first, I told o65. He has to have his bugs, he'll starve! I looked toward Fangy, I would just grab everything and run like a scalded duck or I was chasing a beer truck as dear old Ma would like to say. Something odd though, Fangy was on alert!, his blue forked tongue was flicking like I had never seen it before.... There was a snake out there and it had to be really close for Fangy to alert like that!

Wait a minute!, there's a snake right over here, a big one, I whispered hoarsely. I lunged for the spot where Fangy was fixedly staring at, Fangy had never let me down. Right away I spotted a hole under the nearest bush and madly thrust my eager hand down it to grab the big snake I knew was down there. I had to get that smake!

What the heck! Something down there grabbed my thumb and bite me with so much force that, thrashing around, I kicked over Fangy's basket. It took a minute to get my hand out of that hole and plunge it into a nearby bucket of cold water I had in my camp. Jez, that hurt.

Fangy was on the move! Wierdly, he didn't try to escape, he slid in between the iron pickets on the fence and headed directly for Bad Girl 63208R!!! I freaked, if Fangy bite her, fire and brimstone would rain down upon me, her wicked girl mobsters would track me to the ends of the earth to wreak vengeance. Oh no, don't bite, don't bite, I prayed with desperation.

Again, what the heck, Fangy beelined directly to 08R like a fond puppy! 08R reached down, picked up Fangy putting Fangy close to her face. What! Then to my utter shock and disbelief, Fangy actually extended his forky tongue out further than it even seemed possible and licked Bad Girl 63208R right on her juicy, red lips. Fangy was in love!

"Exulted One, ah, we're kind of having a hard time belie.."

Kindly shush, Beloved Acolytes, and Bless you! It is nearly time that I must go.

"So, Exulted One, was there no sign from above, I mean, the lesson..?"

Son, how would you get a sign from above from the belly crawling reptile? No, no sign from above, it was a sign from below!, the hole, Acolyte!, the hole! Now I must run, Bless you all, time to end the lesson.

"But.. but, wait, Exulted One...."

Falling off the old turnip truck

Greeting Acolytes and Bless You!
Your leader has prepared a savory lunch for you after you complete this session. Sharing a meal with the Acolytes is always my favorite way of getting to know you all a little better and reward you for you efforts and astute attention. Bless you! 

As you know, I ran away from my home outside the fence at the School for Bad Girls. Pursued, as I was, by bad boys from the village, I was a very tired little boy by the time I found the highway out of there. I missed my little snake Fangy, but knew that the snake had made a new home and future with Bad Girl 63208R. There was little I could do about, they were a pair, those two! And, need I say, there was that sign from below, and not an evil sign, reptilian perhaps, and in the form of a vicious bite, but not evil per se.

There was little traffic on the road that lead away from the village, none to speak of, really. Once in a while, a car or truck would pass but I would always lose my nerve and hide behind a rock until it passed. This is no way to get out of town, I thought.

After some long while, a rickety and creaking old truck came tooling up the road, slowing on the slight incline of the local topography. It was moving along at barely a medium walking speed with an old man at the wheel. My chance!, I thought, and I ran up behind and jumped up on the back of the truck with my little traveling kit of water, a few things to wear, and a cracker or two. Now I was glad not to be burdened down with a snake charmer's basket with a nasty little snake in it, too many questions.

The old man driver seemed unaware of the new passenger hidden under the tarp in the back of his truck. The crackly radio was on and the old man plowed on ahead, driving the truck up the increasingly steep grade. Between the putt putt of the truck's engine and the crackly radio playing alternately old timey music interspersed with bits of news, I soon fell asleep amid boxes of turnips, garden tools, and miscellaneous junk.

I must have slept for a long time. What happened then was almost unbelievable! On the weak, weak signal coming from the radio, it seemed that the radio guy said something about a woman emerging unscathed from: "under a huge pile of Beer bottl...." then the signal faded back to unintelligible static. Ma!, I thought, and jumped up with so much energy that I fell completely off the back of the truck! As if on cue, the truck slowed on the, steep hill, pulling over to the dusty side of the road. I could hear the old man set the brake with a loud ratchety crack.

I didn't know if should I run or stay put. I had to ask the old man about the news on the radio! Ma may be alive, alive! Happy, hopefully thoughts filled my little head as the old man made his way back to where I was, sitting there in the dust at the side of the road.

The old man spoke first: "Fell off the truck, huh, young fella? They always fall off right about here on account of the road being so steep and all." He leaned in toward me to get a better look. " You look pretty stunned even for a boy who just fell off my turnip truck, young fella, what gives?" Then the old man grinned kindly and helped pull me up off the roadside, knocking dirt off me with his battered felt hat.

The Radio, the radio, what did it say about a woman crawling out from under some beer bottles! I almost shouted. The old man looked at me with concern and explained the he hadn't actually heard anything coming out of that radio for thirty five years. He was hard of hearing!

"I just leave the radio on because the turnips like it", the old man said. "Maybe you'll here something later on that thing. We're a bit far from the station out here, at least eighty five miles. Hope it's true and you Ma's OK. Worrying never helped nobody, young man, we'll get er figured out soon enough."

I was invited into the cab of the truck and permitted to fiddle with the radio dials all I wanted. Nothing! Nothing was coming in on that thing, only crackles and static, occasionally some polka tunes, that was it. The old man explained that we were headed up to the top of Turnip Hill and would be arriving shortly.

Acolytes!, Let us partake in our lunch now, the stomach is rumbling, we can finish the lesson later, more refreshed.

The Exulted One led the hungry Acolytes to the well appointed table, complete with white table cloth and decent china settings. Apparently, The Exulted One had prepared the meal entirely himself. He proudly pulled out chairs for the Acolytes. The Exulted One joked about how a bunch of Acolytes could bolt it down like a pack of wolves. "No prayer before dinner at the Church of the Blue Moon, Acolytes! How anyone would expect a decent prayer from a hungry Acolyte is beyond me! We only pray if and when we feel in the mood, so, eat up!"

The Acolytes seated themselves graciously at the table. There was a steaming platter of what looked like turnips, Some nice looking mashed potatoes and gravy, homemade biscuits and other delectable fare. The hungry Acolytes were pleased. After a moment, and allowing some of the Acolytes to pray or not as was their inclination, they was a stirring starting to grow at the Exulted One's end of the table. The Acolytes seated there were looking at each other with increasing alarm.

"Exulted One!!! Is this dish Rat? one of the bolder ones exclaimed. Are you feeding us rat!?"

Church of Blue Moon / Moonbeams din nakna rumpa. Historien om kyrkans grundare, jublade One som en ung pojke. Han kidnappades av den onda kaptenen av Polar Cysta (en mörk fartyg inga kända flaggan) och tvingas leva i kölsvinet på en diet av under-kokt råtta. (uppvärmd fem watt glödlampa)

 Farrell Hamann artist/author/explorer in Creampuff the Jaguar
Twitter: @farrellhamann

Incredibly beautiful girl. (the camouflage girl) Secret, covert agent, Beauty Queen. 

Fabulous art collection. Palace, Castle, Chateau, Gold Monument, Old Tower. Worth a King's ransom. Located in Sacramento, California. Multi-million dollar art collection. Finest in the world. Very rare and coveted.

Poor little naked Barbie dolls stacked up like cord wood. Oh the shame and horror!! Give these girls a nice home. Treat them with respect. Give them a new lease on life, a second chance.

"Roach Coach" in Northern California

Happy, laughing pug dog (former Best in Show, prize winning doggie)

Artist/writer/Explored/sex symbol, Farrell Hamann as a young man in Detroit, Michigan

Tower Records/Books in Sacramento, California

Freaky blue eyeball and white mystery powder

Camel mosaic detail. Farrell Hamann Fine art. (hope you in UAE and Saudi Arabia are paying attention.  Museum quality, unequaled workmanship.

Ant Hill image. Tiny ants lying in wait for something cool (like a bread crumb)

My custom welded aluminum tandem axle flatbed trailer with diamond plate deck and stainless fenders. The nicest one in Santa Barbara and Montecito. Deluxe, super trailer. Fit for a King.
Huge glowing mystery sphere sculpture in the studio of artist, Farrell Hamann

Bunch of old tires

blog of The Exulted One

art images, photos, etc.
Art work is located in Sacramento, California

My youtube channel. See huge collection, studio tour etc. Palace, Chateau, Castle, Obelisks, famous mosaics, huge hollow ball, some paintings, cats, etc. F.

huge waste of time

My Twitter  

Granite Bay ART #Sacramento, California (Paintings/Sculpture/Castles/Palaces/Towers/Marble toys/Hangings/Vases/Urns/Artists/Writers/Creatives/Jokes/Gourmet

Montecito Cheese Rat 


Bitey cats, Montecito cheese rat, cupcakes and candles on the cover of my new art calendar.
Photo taken in front of Bitey Palace.
My "Zombie" Avatar on Twitter and Facebook.  @farrellhamann
Also my youtube channel: farrellhamann for funny videos and art tours. cats! 

J'ai peut ressembler à un zombie mais je suis un gars amour chérie
Ich mag wie ein Zombie aussehen, aber ich bin ein Schatz lieben Kerl
Я может выглядеть как зомби, но я парень возлюбленной любви
Aku mungkin kelihatan seperti Zombie tapi saya kekasih

Witam, można zobaczyć moje filmy na youtube mój kanał: farrellhamann
Farrell Hamann
     Bildender Künstler, Bildhauer, Schriftsteller, Comedy-Videos (YouTube) ich Schriftsteller Akte hatte mit der Tonight Show (circa Carson) und Kunstwerken im Weißen Haus Collection, dem Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, die Petaluma Museum hat Oprah Winfrey ein meiner Mosaik Eier. usw. "Unique Collection" des J. Paul Getty Museum. "Eine Welt der visuellen Edelsteine" Sacramento Bee (Encore) "amerikanische Version der Faberge-Eier" KCRA-TV, "Beautiful" Oprah Winfrey. Ich habe schon viele Male im Fernsehen erscheinen, und in den Printmedien. Mein YouTube-Kanal: farrellhamann auch auf Facebook. Kann siehe Bilder bei Flickr, Picasa, Twitpic, d'ART, Google, etc. Ich habe eine große Kunstsammlung. Arbeiten umfassen Schlösser, Türme, Mosaiken, Gemälden, Skulpturen und vieles mehr. Auch dies schriftlich Humor. High Score Klout

BooHooHoo (Not crying here, all the good names have already been taken) Coconut Bra, Fisheyes, Biter, Nose, etc. 

High Klout score person. Need investors (need more tourism? I'm your go to guy.

Video: Fly on the Wall. Giant sphere, drum balls, CC Radio, singing, tin whistle, Blues.