Ryanindaswamp / Man In Da Street

Wound Up Wednesday

I ain't gonna lie.
Jon Stewart.
You crack me up.

As well, you on it My Man.
Mackin Down on my Dawg Hannity.
Drew down first on Ya Irish.
Yeah.

It' on.

Bet The Farm.

Irish fires back.
Takes it to Stewart' Mammas Back Yard.
As ratings, after burn thrust through Galaxy Cluster 'El Gordo' right off da Hubble Dimensional Radar.

Honestly.
I am trying.
My damn, fuckin hardest.
To stay on the way far gravitationally opposed, far, far, dissipated, ionic side of anything and all
that remotely has anything to do with politics.
Straight up.

Not to worry.
Except if you name is Late Nite Johnny Boy.

Irish fires back.
Off Da Wire Dude.
Stay on it Dawg.

Celtic pride Will Always Rise To Da Top.
Hannity On It Like La Bron.
That's it Irish.

Tell the world about The Presidents Best of Best of Very Best Friends.

Cop Killers Extraordinaire.

BIll Ayers.
Bernadine Dorhn.

Ayers Said That He Would Do It Again.
Not Even A Thought.
Kill A Cop That Is.

Say That Cop Killin Dude also runnin Yak That,
Nah, Nah Nah Nah Nah.
He A Free Man.

Take Him and Late Nite Johnny Down.

No turning back now Seany boy.

No Mercy Irish.

Celtic Pride. Rising To The Top.

You straight up smoked Dat Jew Boy.

(Swamp Disclaimer: 
I am an Irish Jew. At last count we populate close 1450 Peep's. World Wide.
I believe I can clearly claim, the absolute smallest minority on this rock.
Our occupation of Ireland is short lived. 
We only been on the Emerald Isle since 1079. 
Not long.
Bottom line. 
Myself referring to others of the Jewish faith as 'Jew Boy' is akin to black people referring to each other as my Nigga. 
Oh. That is how black people refer to me. 
Whatever Stewart. You get it.)

See Hannity, I have seen this coming for awhile. 
Your peeling of layers of epidermis, till finally down to the actual nit and grit.
It's Time.
Put The Main Thugs out to dry. 
Let the people know who's who.

Honestly Irish.
You Cribbed up to da hilt.
Stacks($) Piled Bukoo.
Fuck Em.
People have stood up representing with a whole lot less.

Let it rip Irish.
You doing Us Proud.

Gotta say My Man.
You Got Me Wound Up Tighter Than A Blown 850 BHP Chevy Big Block Motor At Max RPM's Mounted On A 1/4 Mile Rail Runnin Monster.

You Da Man Irish.
Let I Rip Dude.

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out - because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out - because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out - because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out - because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak out for me.  
Martin Niemoller

Gonna be real with you Sean.

Just Like a Dutch Uncle.

Get some serious Body Guards for you and yours.
Marines.
My first choice.
Let Em weapon up any way they want.
Regarding M.O.S.
Make sure at least one has the letters;
S.S. at the end of his designated M.O.S.

Regarding this line of thought.

I want to clearly state that at this time, I do not possess any type of fire arm, nor do I own any type of firearm.
Fact is I stopped Rollin A & D (Armed & Dangerous) in 2009.

Through lightening quick thought process I concluded that it was not necessary for me to strap any any longer. 
This resolve was the result of what most would think would be the perfect time to acquire some iron.
I sold off all my fire arms within the following 3 dayz after the decision had been made.

Al that said.  

I do have security.

Ive been told the absolute tip of the very, top of the highest caliber security on this planet and beyond.
Quite possibly Ya All have heard of this world wide security unit.

J.Christ Strategic Global Security. Galaxy wide.

As well I employ 24/7, 365 and well beyond. 
A personal Body Guard.
At my side 
Tick by tock. 
Nano to Nano.

Arch Angel Michael.

All that said.

Yo. 
Like Dis Bitches.

You Gonna Smoke My Ass.
Don't Tell Me You Gonna Smoke Me.
Smoke My Ass.
Bitches.
Fuck You 
and 
Your Mamma. 

Maybe Ya All Da Ones.

That's My Story And I'm Stickin To It.

I can hear it now.

" J. Jumpin Jevosavat. 
It's bad enough. 
A life time of walking through yet, uncharted Territory, through Hoods that have not even been surveyed.
Now he's runnin yak. On who?"

"I told Ya J.C. 
He's loosing his mind. 
His daughter, Baby Girl. 
She's right.
He's loosing his mind.
How did we see this not coming. 
Only God knows who's he's runnin Yak on".

"Trust me Mike. I Haven't a clue. 
Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse. 
Mike, Dude, Look..."

"Yeah. I know. I know. 
Gonna be pullin triple plus details. 
What else is new?"

"I promise Mike. For real Man. Do this for me, 1 solid, real week. 
Bali. The beach."

"What ever Boss. I'm on it".

On the Fox Newz forefront.
 All the Irish are not holding true.

Meghan.
Meghan.
Meghan.

Girl.
Seemingly you fell on your head during commercial break.
New York.
Criminal.
Congressman Fred Grim? 

Buy Ya books.
Send Ya To School.
This Is The Best You Can Come With.

In Da Swamp.
Hero Today.
Bitch Tomorrow.

Runnin with those Nike's.

Good Morning Mr. President.
Great Job Sir.

Black Men incarcerated for small possession amounts of crack.
Black Men incarcerated for sale of small amounts of crack, as well, tweeze
should be set free.

This decision Mr. President is a good thing on many levels.

First off, enough is enough.
10 plus years. 

Multiply these multiple year sentences by $40.000 to $48.000 per inmate, per year, that 'We The People' pay to more and more private prisons to house criminals.
While the actual cost to house prisoners in most cases is $11.000 to $13.000 a year.
Big, big business here in America.

Not to mention the disproportionate numbers of Black Men arrested and locked up compared to Up Town Caucasians With Money, who walk, while possessing serious amounts of soft (Powder Cocaine).

I know for a fact.

Bet The Farm.

In America, if you are wealthy and white.
You ain't doing time.
I know several somewhat wealthy white folk who by all stretches of law should be locked up.
Multiple times.


Also Mr. President Great Job Sir regarding 'My Brother's Keeper".
Excellent program Sir. 

As well, you are directly involved, as in up close and grill personal.
I can not even imagine the complete awe and inspiration you gave to these Kidz.
Cause without a doubt Sir, they are the future of this country. 
Thank You.

Hey what the hell.
While I'm waxing your ass Mr. president.

A while back a great decision on your part to regulate birth control to Girlz. Signing into law that Girlz had to be at least 17 years old.
You tryed to hold out for 18 years old.
You Stood up to Planned Parenthood who wanted to see birth control for 8 years old.

Thank You Mr. President.

Honestly Sir.
I haven't any problem what so ever with you Mr. President.
40 and A Blount Sir.
Not a scintilla of hesitation.
A Humble Honor.

My hate lies with Ayers and Dorhn.

I'm Straight even with Val.
Val is Val.
For sure. 
I never wanna mess with her.
Girl ain't playin.

Mr. Obama is An In Da Street Kinda Guy.
Great on the social welfare front.

Seemingly Biden is just an East Coast Brawling Irish Man.
Great Foriegn Policy dude.

I see Joe with Putin.

"Like dis Vladdy.
Yo. Slappy. Bring down Da Screen.
See Vladdy, that satalite picture is some East Commie Shit Hole of Yours.
Hit Da Bitch Slappy."

Slappy clicks a mouse on a White House Lap Top.
Slam Wham Gone O.

"Feel Me Vladdy.
Shit Stops Here.
Shit Stops Now.
I'm Outta Here."

Look Mr. President.
Follow My Vapor Trail On This.

Tom Steyer.
100 Billion.
To you Mr. President for your direct assistance regarding keeping the lid on the pipe line.

Like This Sir.
Take white Boyz Phat Billions.
Turn around.
Give the good to go on the pipe line.

Employ 40k plus people.
Liberate the White Boy From his Stacks($).
You and I both know he is a  wealthy, scam ass bitch Wall Street Hedge Fund Manager/Owner.
Fuck Dat White Boy.
I'm positive Your AG is on board.

And there Sir is your legacy.
You actually Saved America.
Fucked over a candy ass punk bitch.
Don't get no better than that Sir.

You can easily pull this caper off.
I mean really Sir.
You have already put together two back to backs.
Dis a walk on Bali Mr. President.

Not a problem Mr. President.
Swamp Always Glad to Assist Sir. 

Look America.
China.
Russia.
Europe.
On and On.

Centuries upon centuries the people of these countries have been walking their native lands.

Here in America.
238 years.

We just Baby steps into this journey.
Make no mistake about it.
I do not in any way, what so ever intend to motivate, inspire, direct not one individual towards anarchy, terrorist actions or revolution against this country.
My country. The United States of America.

My far flung vision.
My dream as it were.
Is to see to fruition the real reason The Founders.
George W. and The Boyz put it on the line for Freedom.
For Justice.
For Equality. This entity has come some what late, with much blood and hard fought missions still being fought for.
Freedom and Justice For All.

The pulling together of opposition ideas for the Good of The United States of America.
United We Stand.
Divided We Fall.

Shoulder to Shoulder.
Boot to Boot.
We All Americans.
The Enemy Is At The Gate.
We Got Some Enemy Ass To Kick.

For this is the very foundation, the ground that this foundation called The United States of America was erected on.

For Sure.
The Times They Are A Changing.

Stupid Fuckin Me.

Ryan. Out.



As Always
The Best Newz Source Out There

RealClearWorld

www.realclearworld.com/‎ 










 

Ryanindaswamp / Man In Da Street

The South Side



The journey from the south side north was always in some way interesting.
Then on certain dayz, just plain outrageous.
Today was one of those.

I decided to cut over from 44th and 6th west past the pawn shop.
From there I proceeded north behind Food City to the neighborhood, then coming up out of the neighborhood to 33rd, then up and over to south 6th avenue. 

I was about four blocks into the neighborhood, heading north. 

As I approached the 5th block I felt a vibe.

 

Vibes are an integral part of my life on a nano to nano basis.
For vibes have been the main ingredient regarding my continuous daily occurrence of exhaling CO2 on this treacherous planet.  

I casually glanced 25 degrees to my left. 
Thank you vibe.

There stood, over waist high, thick and built, four Pit Bull dogs. All about a year old.

These beasts were all white except for one. 
He was white with black spots, and a big black spot covering his left eye. 
Adding character as it were.



I proceeded forward, then looked again left. 
Seemingly this team of pups were walking my way. 
Their determination in their pursuit to check me out was relentless.
Upon their approach they all took up their decided positions.

The first Pit positioned himself directly in front of me. Actually in my direct path.
The second pup positioned herself on my left.
The third escort walked around me, taking his position to my right.
Spot eye picked up my rear flank.

I did not stop my walk. 
My escorts just calmly fit themselves in cadence.

There I was, as it were, walking in the middle of a south side hood street chaperoned by my newly acquired  friends.

At this point, we walked, I talked. 
Softly. 
Very Calmly.
Telling these pups how beautiful they were and how damn big they were.

Forget for a moment they were very large Pit Bulls. 
They were absolutely some of the biggest dogs I had ever seen.

So we walked and talked. 

After four blocks I commented to my newly assigned troops how big they were. 
That they're doggie parents must be very large as well. 
I inquired at that point as to where were their Momz and Popz.

That's when I caught it.

On a front lawn, inclining upwards at about 20 degrees stood for sure the biggest damn Pit Bull, dog I had ever seen.
Mom.

Mom figured, what the hell. 

She joined in on this bazaar march. 
Mom took up right flank. 
I told her she was surely big. 
I said Popz had to be as big as well or, God Forbid, bigger.

Just as the period appeared on my vocal sentence, there he was. Approaching from the right. 
For sure, without a doubt, he was Big Dog. 
He joined the parade.

We all walked on for another block, me and the whole dog Famdamily.

Out of the wild blue, big pup in front hit the deck, rolled over, Started licking my legs. 
Then sister and brothers joined in this street love while Momz and Popz looked on.

After a few minutes of love they all approached me to receive Some serious behind the ear petting.

Then, just as they approached me, they all disbanded and went their various ways.
Then, exhibiting a choreographed cheerleader move, they all Looked back and nodded their heads to the right as if signaling Farewell.

I looked up. 

I muttered to HIM. 

Uh Huh.
Walking with Wild Pit Bulls. 
You for sure Trippin Lord. 
Then in a quick lickety, a strong desert breeze brushed it's Sweetness over me followed by three butterflies passing directly In front of me and just to make sure HE was clear, a black bird Descended before me screeching his, "Have a good day Buddy".

I proceeded to 32cd street, then cut over to south 6th avenue. 
As I made my way north up south 6th avenue, approaching 31st street I noticed on the east side corner on 6th avenue and 31st street three young Mexican men, 17 to 18 years old Standing there, more like securing that particular part of the Tarmac.

These teenagers were dressed in red. 
Red bandanas. 
Bloods.



With these young men were two very beautiful young Mexican Girlz. 
Maybe sixteen years old.

I continued north on south 6th. 
I always walk opposite of the traffic flow. 

As I approached 30th, one of these young ladies made her approach towards me. 
Crossing south 6th to my side of the street.

As she grew closer, to what I call my meet and greet space I said;

"Yo señorita aplogize. no soy una perspectiva buena."

For my single lingual readers. Defined> I apologize. I am not a good prospect

Young girl positioned herself to my right, without a word, fell in lock step with me.

The time was 8:45. 
Sunday morning.
We walked in this manner, silent for the next three blocks.

Without any props, out the wild blue, this beautiful young girl said to me;

"¿Tiene algún licor?"

 For my single lingual readers. Defined>Do I have any liquor?

"No, te puedo asegurar que no lo haga. ¿No es demasiado joven para beber licor. Así que es muy pronto."

For my single lingual readers. Defined> No, I sure don't. Are you not too young to be drinking liquor. As well it is so very early.

"Hace que vaya más rápido"

For my single lingual readers. Defined> It makes it go faster.

"Que quiere decir los hombres y todas las repeticiones?"

For my single lingual readers. Defined> You mean the men and all the repetition?

"Si"

"We walked on for a bit."

"Se puede orar por mí?"

For my single lingual readers. Defined> Will you pray for me?

"Sí. Rezaré por usted. ¿Cómo se llama usted?"

For my single lingual readers. Defined> Yes. I will pray for you. What is your name?

"Mi nombre es Monique."

For my single lingual readers. Defined> My name is Monique.

"Para que Monique. Que Dios los bendiga."

For my single lingual readers. Defined>For sure Monique. God Bless You.

With that Monique trailed off east, across 6th avenue.

I turned right off south 6th avenue, west up south 28th street. 

I walked another 10 steps up south 28th.

My tears started to hit the hot tarmac like exploding mortars. 

I looked and said through the torrential onslaught of tears;

Lord, God Almighty, Please, Oh God, Please Intercede and Find This Young Lady. Save Her Lord. Oh God Please Save Her.

Can't say how long I stood there begging My Lord God Almighty To Save This Beautiful Young Girl from the spoils of war.

Tears finding this keyboard as I type. 

The treacherous, wicked world for now safely at bay.

Ryan. Out. 

I found this article interesting.

Source;

Realclearworld.com

A real newz source

Telegraph.co.uk

Wednesday 23 April 2014

What does Vladimir Putin want in Ukraine?

Subversion from within – not attack from without – has emerged as the Russian president’s favoured technique for controlling events in Ukraine

If Vladimir Putin wants to change the world bequeathed by the West’s victory in the Cold War, then where exactly does this mission end? Photo: AFP/Getty Images

By David Blair

6:20AM BST 15 Apr 2014

1036 Comments

When is an invasion not an invasion? No Russian tanks have rolled across Ukraine’s eastern frontier and no spearhead infantry units are ravaging the post-industrial wastes of the Donbas, yet the Kremlin has still managed to seize de facto control over a string of towns inside its neighbour.

This shadowy operation in eastern Ukraine reveals much about the temperament of President Vladimir Putin. Ordering a conventional military invasion – a sort of Operation Barbarossa in reverse – would have been far too obvious for this KGB graduate. While Nato’s high command fretted over the presence of between 35,000 and 40,000 Russian troops on Ukraine’s border, he chose a more subtle method of coercing his neighbour.

Subversion from within – not attack from without – has emerged as Mr Putin’s favoured technique for controlling events in Ukraine. A full-scale invasion may yet happen, but for now at least, the Kremlin has chosen to wage a deniable war in the twilight.

Stage one of this operation began 10 days ago when armed men seized government buildings in Kharkiv, Luhansk and Donetsk, the capitals of Ukraine’s three eastern regions with large Russian minorities. Then, on Saturday and Sunday, this campaign suddenly escalated. Within the space of 24 hours, the gunmen occupied police stations and other official buildings in six towns across the Donetsk region.

Their modus operandi summoned comparisons with the fate of Crimea, which fell under de facto Russian control in a few days in February. As in Crimea, the men in the vanguard of these assaults flew Russian flags from their conquests. As for their aim, they demanded total autonomy for their home regions – or straightforward union with Russia.

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William Hague, the Foreign Secretary, drew an explicit parallel with Crimea yesterday, noting how the “forces” in action in eastern Ukraine were “behaving in exactly the same way as what turned out to be the Russian forces in Crimea”. All this amounted to a “gross, deliberate and premeditated violation of the independence and sovereignty of Ukraine”, Mr Hague added.
So will eastern Ukraine go the way of Crimea and end up as another region of Russia, or is Mr Putin playing a more subtle game? No one can doubt that he has already achieved his first objective, namely to impale Ukraine’s post-revolutionary government on the horns of an impossible dilemma. If the country’s new leaders rise to this challenge and deploy their army to wrest back the occupied towns and government buildings, then Russians might well be killed – and Mr Putin would have his pretext for a full-scale invasion.
Hour after hour, Russian television pumps out propaganda about how Ukraine has fallen into civil war and the February Revolution brought “fascists” and “extremists” to power. Mr Putin would claim any bloody incident as proof of his case. If he chose to invade, he would present the onslaught as the only way of calming the chaos, hoping that we would forget his part in causing it.
If, on the other hand, Ukraine’s leaders ignore the provocation and leave towns like Slovyansk in the hands of their enemies, then the central government will steadily lose control over the east. Groups of masked men would carry out one occupation after another. The map might remain the same, but in reality, the border between Russia and Ukraine would be submerged as the Kremlin proceeded with the creeping annexation of large areas of its neighbour, building by building and town by town.
In theory, the government in Kiev has made its choice. On Sunday, Oleksandr Turchynov, the acting president, gave the armed men until yesterday to leave all public buildings or face an “anti-terrorist operation”. But the deadline attached to this threat expired with no sign of an assault, suggesting that Mr Turchynov and his colleagues are still wrestling with their dilemma.
That will not have disappointed Mr Putin. He has carefully left his adversaries with a way out: they can escape from their agonising predicament, but only by doing exactly what he tells them.
Russia has already spelt out its objectives in Ukraine: the Kremlin wants the country to have a new constitution allowing total autonomy for the eastern regions. In addition, Russia demands that this new settlement must guarantee Ukraine’s non-aligned status – in other words, rule out membership of Nato or the European Union for ever. Taken together, these diktats would guarantee that Ukraine remains firmly inside Moscow’s orbit.
With the manoeuvres of the past few days, Mr Putin hopes that he has won the leverage to bend Ukraine’s leaders to his will. “There are two possible interpretations of these events,” says Dr Alex Pravda, a Russia specialist at St Antony’s College, Oxford. “Either this is part of a long-term strategy to partition Ukraine. Or it’s a series of tactical moves designed to leverage influence over Kiev. I think it’s the latter.”
But Mr Putin is running risks. The first is that Ukraine’s leaders might choose the first horn of the dilemma and meet force with force. If they wrest back a town, killing a dozen or so Russians in the process, then Mr Putin could find himself under pressure to invade, whether that is part of his plan or not. “More than five or 10 casualties would be a very difficult situation for him to manage,” says Dr Pravda. “He’s trying to create a chaotic situation where he has managed leverage, but it’s high risk.”
Moreover, the people of eastern Ukraine might not behave in quite the way that Mr Putin hopes. If he wanted to trigger a groundswell of popular revulsion against the revolutionaries in Kiev, then it has not happened yet. Only a few hundred people have been directly involved in the occupations, supported by relatively modest crowds of demonstrators.
Unlike in Crimea, ethnic Russians are a minority in eastern Ukraine, albeit a sizeable community of 38 per cent in the Donetsk region. None the less, opinion polls suggest that support for joining Russia is a minority cause. Over 83 per cent of voters in Donetsk backed independence for Ukraine in a referendum accompanying the dissolution of the Soviet Union in December 1991. So it is far from obvious that Mr Putin is working with the grain of popular opinion. If he does invade, the inhabitants of eastern Ukraine could wage an eternal partisan war behind the lines even if he achieved a conventional military victory.
There is, however, a still more important question. What exactly are Mr Putin’s long-term goals? In his speech announcing the return of Crimea to Russia last month, he denounced the iniquities of the post-Cold War settlement, forced upon his country at its moment of maximum weakness. He promised a rapturous audience that he would reverse those injustices and restore Russian greatness.
That ambition clearly included annexing Crimea. But does it also require a forcible redrawing of the map of eastern Ukraine to incorporate more Russian-speaking regions into the mother country? And what about the Baltic states, all of them members of Nato and the EU, while also being home to significant Russian minorities?
If Mr Putin wants to change the world bequeathed by the West’s victory in the Cold War, then where exactly does this mission end?
Perhaps he is only really interested in the Slavic heartland of the old Soviet Union, namely Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. Equally possible is that he does not know the answer to that question. But the fate of eastern Ukraine in the weeks ahead will help to reveal how far Mr Putin is prepared to go in his burning ambition to restore Russia’s greatness.

Ryanindaswamp / Man In Da Street

I Gotta Pit Named Binney

            
 

"Hey Ryan".

"Hey Veronica. You slummin today"?

"Well, Yeah. I'm always slumming when I'm with you Ryan. Actually I'm down here hanging with my Girl Friend Lorraine".

"Uhmm. Uhmm. Uhmm. Sweet Lorr-Aine cribbing up in her mansion up in da foothills".

"That's right old-man".

"Damn V.. Why don't you show an old-man some love? Hook up dat Sweet Lorr-Aine thang for dis old-man".

"Sorry stud. Lorraine don't do poor".

"Tehhh. By the time I'm dun with her she be trickin on Oracle"

"Yeah right. Oh well. Too bad we will never know".

"Uh Huh. Just love that red jealous glow make up you sportin Girl".

"Fuck you Ryan. Like I actually care".

"There Ya go. So hook it up".

"Fuck you Ryan. I'm going to the K".

"Cool V. Pick me up those giant small bags of Kit Kat 2 for 3".

"Sure Tuff Guy. Keep holding your breath".
Ryan chuckles.

"Dammnnn Girl. Red Jealous Glow looks good on you".

"Fuck you Ryan. We'll see who laughs last. Yeah, laugh on you old fool. I hate you Ryan".

"Yeah. You at the end of a real, real long line Girl".

Ryan can not even catch his breath as he is laughing so, so very hard. Ryan reaches behind himself and pats his butt.

"What the hell are you doing Ryan"?

"I'm checking my ass to see if it's still there. I swear to God V., you have me rollin. Could have sworn I laughed my ass entirely off".
Ryan is gasping for air, he is laughing so hard.

"Fuck you Ryan. I hate you".

"Damn Girl. You sure been real uptight lately. Anger off da wire. Whats the matter, Doc Blaisdale not hittin dat cookie just right. Maybe not at all. Not to worry Girl. I'll be more than happy to intervene. I'll give Doc a call, give him some cookie hittin pointers".

"Like you would even know Mr.Celibate for life".

At this point Ryan' laughing is completely out of control just about propelling him out of his chair.

"Fuck you Ryan. For real Ryan I hate you".

"You hate me too. So does Abagail. She always signs off, texts, e-mails, phone calls with I Hate You. Hey, what the hell. Ya All might just want to start The Hate Ryan Fan Club. Even Google has suspended all advertising from this blog site".

"Fuck you so bad Ryan. I really, really hate you. Abagail was right to stab you".

"Damn. Malicious Monday".

Veronica reaches into her enormous purse. Livid would be a gigantesque upgrade.

"Damn Girl. I'm just playin. For real Veronica. Your not gonna shoot me. Are you"?

"I hate you. I'm out of here ass hole".

"Oh. Give my love to Sweet, Sweet Lorrr-Aine. Tell her me and Mr. Big send our best".

Veronica turns around, flips Ryan two birds. One on each hand. Veronica starts through the two glass doors.
Ryan breaks into song.

"Rolley Polley Macarolley. Baby Struttin Her Rolley Polley".
At this point Ryan is about hysterical with laughter.

If all that was not enough.

Today is Monday.

Yeah.

Bet the farm.


"Yo Mann. You Straight?"  

I turn my head right, over my shoulder 45 degree's.
Sitting on a 20 inch high handle bar bicycle was at best, regarding this Kidz age, a 13 year old Black Kid.

"Yo Man. You straight?"

"Yes young man, I like women."

"Naw. Naw Mannnn. You straight?"'

"Yes young man. I like women."

The time is approaching 1a.m. 
I disembarked  the last BCT bus after work. 
My job was Manager of a large call center that handled calls regarding customer service for a Fortune 300 company. 
My shift ran from second into third shift. 
I lived west of the downtown BCT terminal, giving me a clear shot west up Broward Blvd. to 14th St on the west side of the old , big Fort Lauderdale Police station.

My crib was on West Las Olas Blvd. and 13th street directly behind the old police station. The walk up Broward Blvd. was approximately 32 minutes. 
If I exited the # 9 bus at Sistrunk and N.W. 7th Avenue, I walked west up Sistrunk Blvd. to N.W. 12th. South on N.W. 12th to Central. 
Central to N.W. 14th. 
N.W. 14th south to Broward Blvd.
Cross Broward Blvd. Walk the remaining 6 blocks to my crib.

I disembarked the number 9 bus at the corner of N.W. 7th and Sistrunk. The N.E. entrance to 'The Sistrunk Hood'.

"Thanks Driver. Have a great rest of the evening".

"Sir. Do you have any idea where you are at?"

"Yes I do driver. Have a good evening. See you tomorrow."

"I certainly hope so Sir."

Sistrunk and N.W. 7th begins the walk into the Sistrunk Hood on the N.E. entrance side.

I encountered this very young business man 2 blocks in, south on 12th avenue.

"Nawwww Mannnn. You Party?"

"Yes young man . With Women".

"Ahhhh. Naw Mannnn. I gots 1980's Hard, Oxy, Tweeze, Percs."
 Myself and young man were eye to eye. Myself looking down at the Kid who was straddling his high bar 20 incher.

"Oh. You slinging drugs."
 At that the young man just stared, all wide eyed at me. I stared back for must what have felt like a half of a life time for this young man.
 
I broke silence. Finally.
"I ain't 'Poe'.
With that, the young Black Kid let out a sigh of releaf on the figurative side of a Kat 7 Miami Hurricane.

"What if I was 'Poe'?"

"I Gettin locked up".

"Then what."

"The Man Get me out."

"Oh. O.k. So now you owe the man piles for bail, today's product and product to sling the day that you get out."

"Yeah. So?"

"Remember when you were a shorty? You had dreams of being a Doctor, a Lawyer, an Astronaut, whatever?"

The fact that this Kid was still a 'Shorty', I was not going to address him as such for the simple fact that this Kid was out here from sun up to sun down working for 'the man' slinging drugs.
Carrying on possibly 10 generations of family drug slinging.
Any remembrance of childhood was less than a dark, desiccated experience.

"Yeah."

"Well because you are a Minority, there is a lot of money waiting for you to be whatever you want to be. Those dreams you had when you were a 'Shorty'."

"Mimority. What Mimority?"

"O.K.. What color is your skin?"

With pride the Kid answers, "Black".

"What country were you born in?"

A relative question because in the hood in S.E. Florida, Jamaicans and Haitians were battling for at that time, control of the always held American Black Hood's.
If pride was an immediate million bucks, this Kid was the undisputed champ.

"I'm 'Merican!"

"Cool. See young man, in this country there is Bukoo Stacks($) just waiting for you to fulfill your dreams that you had when you were a 'Shorty'. 
To do this will be the absolute hardest thing you have ever done. 
People will bring a lot of hate on you. 'The Man' will bring down hate on you too.
But if you decide that your dreams are what you want, go to the school, tell the teacher. Then just work your ass off and you will be rewarded."

"For real?"

"Damn right. It's all up to you my young American Friend."

"Wow. Thanks Man".

"Don't thank me. Thank yourself when you living the dreams you dreamt when you were a 'Shorty'.

With that the young man rode off. 

This type of occurrence was daily part of my Homeward mission every night. 
After all, this short cut through the Sistrunk Hood shaved a good 12 minutes off of my walk.

The most common response regarding my nitely preaching to these Kidz was;
"Yo Man. You Too Deep. What You want. I gotta go."

That first young man was maybe 1% of all the Kidz In Da Street I met over the next two years.
What real broke my heart was the 12 to 14 year old Prostitutes.
At a point I started buying my menthol cigarettes by the cartoon for the simple fact that once I was approached by these very young Hookers I would give them a small amount of money for the simple fact I would spot their Pimp down the way.
If he witnessed these Children, these Girlz walking up to me and not bringing something back, these Young Girlz were going to experience a beating or far worse.
It got to the point that I felt like the Piped Piper walking through Da Hood Every nite.

Hop in the car Ya All. I'm gonna take you on a short ride down Digression Freeway.

Regarding the perceived belief or non belief in this thang called; GOD.

Stephen W. Hawkins.

In his book titled "Brief History of Time and Space. Theorizing Black Holes"

I'll state that Stephen W. Hawkins at the time I read this book was probably one of the 10 most intelligent people on this planet.

To fully understand what Mr. Hawkins was in fact theorizing in this book, is that Mr. Hawkins is one of just a hand full of people on this planet that can actually take numbers to their infinite stage.
For sure no small feat.

Towards the middle of the book, Mr. Hawkins, in concluding his analyzed theory, regarding black holes. 
Mr. Hawkins stated that he had actually taken numbers to their 'Infinite Level' in deducing the very substance of Black Holes.

It was at that point, he could not take numbers any further.
He went on to state that he clearly, at this juncture, concluded, regarding his theory about Black Holes 
"It Has To Be God".
Summed it all up for me.

Oh Yeah.
Stephen W. Hawkins is a devote Atheist. 
Actually To The Max.

Regarding the 'Hit Da Bitch' campaign to hit the intrusive Ad's that Google places on this blog. 
Not To Worry.
Google has BANNED ALL and ANY Ad's on this blog. 
Thank God.
And No, they have not paid me for their intrusive invasion into Da Swamp for any of the ad's that Ya All have already hit..

I ain't gonna lie. 
I have, last week, hit the hell out of the ad's on my own.
Yeah. I know. 
Bad, Bad Me.
Now I am paying the cost of being The Bad Bad Corrupt Ad Clicking Boss.
My Bad. 
'Pologize' King Google.

As such, this blog is more or less done on Blogger.Google.Com.
Well, Cause Dey Told Me.
Seemingly begging for mercy at this time will be to no avail.

Not To Worry World.
I own the domain.;
ryanindaswamp.com.

To always find me, all Ya All have to do is a search by simply typing;
ryanindaswamp.
I take up pages, all from the very top of all search results.
Jus worked out dat way. 
Never did a thing in the world to promote this blog or
my WordPress Dot Com Blog.
Just happened that way. 

I am working with GoDaddy to start publishing on my own web page with the domain name I own.
There I will exhibit COOL AD'S.
For real. 
Don't hold your breath Ya All. 

Shout Out To;

Yo America
Yo Mexico
Yo Spain
Yo United Kingdom
Yo Germany
Yo France
Yo Netherlands
Yo Russia
Yo Poland
Yo Argentina
Yo Brazil

Ya All The Beautiful Best
God Bless Ya All
Thankx Guyz and Galz



Ryan. Out.


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Gangsta Beatz

I haven't one clue what so ever who in the hell Gansta Beatz is.

I will say that Gansta Beats is copying and pasting MY ACTUAL WRITTEN WORDS ON HIS/HER SITE.
Actually The Actions Of A Bitch.

That Said;
I Am Between That Place Of Humbled Honor Blvd and Fuck Me Road.

Honestly I don't know what to say regarding this seemingly plagiarist Individual.

Don't Know Whether To Fuck Fight or Fart.

So I guess, Thank You For Reading and Copying My Written Word on Your Some What Undecipherable Page.

Yo Dude.
Since Your Placing My Blog On Your Site.
Find Your Nutz and Hit Me Up.

Oh Yeah, Fuck Your Corrupt Copy Rights.
At Least Spell Copyrights The Proper Way.

.

Respectfully,

Ryan Sean Donovan

          Happy Easter   /   Good Pesakh

 



The Battle Between Good and Evil/Wicked Kicks Into High Gear.

Seemingly In The Public's Eye, Wicked Carries The Edge Onto The Field Of Battle.

What Was. Is Not.

For The Crucifixion and The Persecuted Are The Masks Of The Used To Be.

There Are Not Any More Cheeks To Turn.
For All The Cheeks Have Been Slapped Silly.

The FATHER Did Not Send HIS Only SON To Die For Ya All's Sin.
HE Sent HIS Only SON To Deliver THE MESSAGE To HIS Sheep.

For This Time When HE Comes, There Will Be NO Crucifixion.

For This Time MY LORD Will Be Riding A White Steed.
HIS Feet Will Be Of Brass.
HIS Eyes Will Be Of FIRE.
A Double Edge Gold Sword Of THE RIGHTEOUS  Is HIS Tongue.

My LORD Is Recruiting Warriors.
Warriors Who Will In No Way Except The Wicked.

As THE LORD Says;
"Let The Unjust Be The Unjust".
"Let The Filthy Be The Filthy".

Take Heed My Sisters and Brothers.

So I Have Been Told.

Jesus and John Were Walking For Hours In Silence.
At A Point, Jesus Looked At John and Exclaimed;
"Why Do The Dogs Keep Returning To Their Vomit"?

Why Do Ya All Keep Returning To Your Vomit?

For Final and For Ever My Sisters and Brothers Walk Quickly Away From Your Vomit As A Fly Speeds Away From The Cleansed.

The Time Has Come.

So I Have Been Told.

Jesus Walked Into A Temple Where Satan Was Spreading His Wicked Ways and Word.
Immediately Upon Noticing Jesus, Satan Appeared Right In Front Of My LORD and 
Exclaimed;
"You Have Come Here To DESTROY Me".

Never Did Jesus Mention To Satan That HE Was There To Throw Down With Satan.
Never Did Jesus Mention To Satan That HE Was There To Draw Down On Satan.
Satan's Exact Words Were;
"YOU Have Come Here To DESTROY ME".

'The Toxic Slime Rat' Knows Without A Doubt That His Time Is Now Short.
As Such he Releases Chaos, Filth, Death, Destruction, Hate, Division, Perversions, Deviant Behaviors and Confusion By The Stadium Full.
By The Second.

For You See World Even Satan Is Disgusted By His Own Minion.
The Morally Bankrupt.
The Full Of Sin.
The Wasted.
The Wicked.
The Perverse.
The Deviant.

For He Already Owns Their Polluted, Toxic Souls.

For It Is Me and Mine That Are The Ultimate Feather In Satan's Cap.
At This Wicked Takeover He Thumbs His Nose At THE LORD and 
Says;
'You See, They Are NO Better".

Pray For The 7TH Chastening My Sisters and Brothers.
Beg For Your Salvation.

Stop Your Pitiful Whining and Crying Regarding Your Selfish, Self Serving Prayers.
THE LORD Is Not At All Interested In Your Greedy, Wanting Ways.
HE CREATED You.
Trust Me HE Knows What Is Best For You.
HE Fully Knows Your Needs.
All HE Asks From You, HIS Creation Is Your LOVE.
Your PRAISE.

Tell HIM.
You LOVE HIM.
Tell HIM How You PRAISE HIM.

Scream Your Gratitude To HIM When A Butterfly Passes Before You.
When Dragonflies Escort You On Your Way.
When A Bird Flies Over Head Singing Their PRAISE and LOVE To Their CREATOR.
Give HIM LOVE PRAISE and GRATITUDE For The Safety Of Your Children, Your Parents, Your Entire Family.
You Job.
Your Safety.
The Love Between You And Your Woman.

For You See, THE LORDS Wild Animals, HIS Beautiful Creations NEVER Ask Their CREATOR For A Thing.
They Only Sing Their PRAISE To HIM, THE CREATOR.

Who Are You To Demand Anything From  
THE CREATOR OF EVERYTHING THAT
IS.
EVERYTHING THAT WAS AND EVERYTHING THAT WILL EVER BE.

WITHOUT A DOUBT THE MACK DADDY OF ALL MACK DADDY'S.

So I Have Been Told.

Jesus, In The Desert, Initiating HIS 40 Days and 40 NIGHTS Of Fast.
Out Of The Blue Appears Satan.
In Jesus' Face Satan Exclaims;
"See Those Sheep. They Are My Sheep. They Hear My Voice".
To Which Jesus Replied;
"Again Satan You Embarrass Yourself. Stand Behind ME. Those Are MY Sheep. They Hear MY
Voice. They Hear Only MY Voice. Go Down To The River and Attend To Your Beasts".
For That Is What MY LORD Refers To Swine As. "Satan's Beast".

One Fork Of Satan's Beast Into Your Mouth Opens The Gates Of Hell.

Isiah 65; 2-4

I SPREAD OUT MY HANDS ALL THE DAY TO A REBELLIOUS PEOPLE, WHO WALK IN A WAY THAT IS NOT GOOD, FOLLOWING THEIR OWN DEVICES; A PEOPLE WHO PROVOKE ME TO MY FACE CONTINUALLY, SACRIFICING IN GARDENS AND MAKING OFFERINGS ON BRICKS; WHO SIT IN TOMBS, AND SPEND THE NIGHT IN SECRET PLACES; WHO EAT PIGS FLESH AND BROTH OF TAINTED MEAT IS IN THEIR VESSELS.


THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

LUST
ENVY
GREED
PRIDE
GLUTTONY
LAZINESS
WRATH

SIN IS SIN
WRONG IS WRONG

Repent
Repent

Or Continue To Live In Your Perverse Deviant Ways.

Daily
All Day
I Repeat Over and Over These Words To Myself;
"I Love You Jesus Christ. I Love You Lord"

So To Those Of You Who For A Lifetime Ask Me;
"Ryan. You Are Always At Peace. You Never Are Worried Or Concerned About Anything".

This Is For The Simple Fact That I Walk With MY LORD and Savior Jesus Christ and Constantly
Say To MY LORD;
"I Love You Jesus. I Love You LORD".

The Other Day Bobby and I Were Walking Back From The K.
Bobby Was Stressing Regarding The Immense Stress That His Position At Work Brings On To Him.
I Said;
Yo. Dawg. Say To Yourself Right Now, I Love You Jesus I Love You Lord.
Bobby Ran With That.
"Damn Ryan. I'm Happy".
Hmmm. It Can ONLY Be When Repeating Those Words.

I LOVE YOU JESUS. I LOVE YOU LORD.

Happy Easter
Good Pascech Ya All

Ryan. Out.


I'm That Sheep That Is Nudging My LORD
Constantly
I Never Liked Being Second