Here's some more info on that scary eye-pyramid thingy:
http://www.conspiracyarchive.com/NWO/All_Seeing_Eye.htm
Also, Set, I neither 'Tiptoe thru the Tulips' nor do I wear Depends, so I am no Tiny Tim, thank you very much....
'k . . . i was jes playin anyhoo . . .
My granddaddy was a Mason, had a good deal of rigamarole included in his funeral as a result . . .
Brother....my granddaddy was a Mason too
Hmmm. My granddaddy worked with lumber, but never brick or stone or jars.
By profession, my Daddy Dewey was a telegrapher . . .
By avocation, he was a typesetter and printer . . .
By conviction, he was a Mason . . .
By any reasonable definition, he was one of the finest, most decent men to have walked the earth . . .
That's a strange sentence. Of what was he convicted?
Killin' wise ass dogs . . . when my sister and i were liddlies, we would take his lunch pail, and carry it down the alley to the railroad depot for him. There was a boxer dog which lived in a shed of a property that backed onto the alley, and this dog would chase us. When my grandfather tripped wise to this, he laid his plans. Mary and I took his lunch to him one day, but he was not there. The Conductor said he had just stepped out for a moment, and just put the pail down over there. We did, and going back home, the dog chased us again. When we got to the front yard, the dog eventually stopped, as he always did, and then he turned and started to take a crap in my grandmother's flower bed (is you crazy ? ! ? ! ?). Suddenly, my grandfather stepped through the door of the backporch, and fired one barrel of his shotgun directly at the dogs ass, and being proficient, hit his target. The dog yelped and ran home faster than you've ever seen a canine move in your life. We were afraid of the consequences of him killing the dog, but he assured us the dog was not mortally wounded. Then he broke the shotgun, and pulled out the second shell, and opened the top to show us . . . rock salt. Dime to a dollar that dog slept standing up for weeks. Thereafter, when we went down the alley, the dog would bark furiously, while hiding behind the shed--peeking out occassionally to see if my Grandfather were lurking nearby . . .
Far as I'm concerned, a dog eating a child is just a form of natural selection, and one that should be encouraged.
Prolly get me in trouble with those child safety freaks, though.
My grandfather was a child safety freak, though not of the kind i suspect you posit here . . .
Yes, natural selection in the form of a sly and determined Black Irishman certainly had great play in that dog's life . . .
As long as we're talking about dogs and hashish or whatever...
Once, long ago, I was walking toward a strange house in pitch blackness. I had never been to the particular house, but had been told by my sources that a friend was currently residing there. Navigating through the darkness was made even more difficult by my recent inhalation of prodigious amounts of hashish. I stumbled down a path, groping my way toward the light which feebly burned in a window. (candle?) Wham! There were teeth at my throat. A doberman had reached the end of his chain mere inches from my neck. I staggered backward while at the same time depositing a plethora of little hershey kisses in my recently laundered underwear.
I never did go back to that house.
used to be a mason, but moved on to a carpenter (pay was much better), and i don't like playing with cement
My Daddy was a Mason, but I never knew what that meant. Nor have I ever cared. But there are those who believe Masons are devil worshipers. but I doubt it myself because my Daddy never worshiped a devil. He mostly liked himself. And me.
"Hello everyone, I hope you brought your silly hat with you!".
My aunt recalls strange 'Sisters of Job' meetings from childhood, but other than that, grandpappy did not talk about being a Mason. He promised to pass down his Mason ring to me, but it mysteriously went missing...hmmm....
Aprons. Masons have leather aprons.
Gus - hershey kisses in your drawers - too much information! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY too much information!
We're talking masons...then we're talking blatham's language. What do you want to know?
About DeMolay...a little known Masonic operation where young men, men just like me, are ushered into a world of dark lighting, robes, secret handshakes and heroes with weird hats.
About The Eastern Star...FEMALE masons...yes!...they have been all around you all this time and you had no idea! Am I right? What you need to know about them is is in their title...we know where they are facing...commie satan slut-bitches.
About Job's Daughters...young ladies...innocent, ripening young ladies...swathed in white flowing robes...their Breck hair tumbling over the braided gold ropes which struggled vainly to suppress the heave of their breasts.
You talk about the Masons...then you're talking blatham's language.
The nearest I have come to all of that was when I was a friend's best person at her wedding, and I was deputed to open up and ready the hall for the reception.
There waiting to give me the keys was an elderly man , who said that I should feel free to take down the Buffalo paraphernalia and pop it into a store-room! I discovered this was a Buffalo's Hall - and I was unable to stop myself from blurting out that I thought the Buffaloes only existed in "The Flintstones"!
Buffalo paraphernalia is heavy.
Dlowan. Have you noticed that I am slowly gaining ground on you, as far as number of posts? I strongly suspect I will pass you by some time in early August and take over the "Top Dog" position on this board.
Bow to the new king
