Feeding My Inner Goddess
Or 'HOW I LEARNED TO ANCHOR THE NEW PLANETARY SPIRIT GRID.'
Listen, this is a serious blog today about me and my inner goddess; Princess Waddlewaddlesmokesmoke. So if this is going to upset you, rattle your karma, or jiggle your vibrations the wrong way, you should just go give yourself a swirly or something. Be sure and clean the toilet bowl first though. (voice of experience talking).
Okay, now, the rest of you can freaking handle some straight talk about my inner goddess, so lets get started. She waddles. . . She smokes. . .She’s sarcastic,. . . and she makes horrible faces at people. I know what you are thinking; - MY inner goddess is actually - Howard the Duck. Well sort of, only female. It’s a long long story, so let’s skip it.
My inner goddess has her panties all in a wad today. Yep. I went to McDonalds and sat on a rock hard stool downloading stuff into my new tablet, all of which goddess tolerates because she likes being around people and pointing out how stupid they are. But then, here comes this 20-something guy wearing droopy pants slung under his butt - so everyone will know that he is a slave and that his ass is always exposed and available to anybody. He comes begging for money with some lame story that he’s from another state and needs bus money to get home. He doesn’t know he’s the third 20-something homeless beggar to hit me up in the last 4 visits here. . . Apparently everyone at McDonalds is stranded there, and needs a handout to survive and get back home to Auntie Em and her little dog Toto.
Anyway, Princess Waddlewaddlesmokesmoke, inside me, takes a long draw on her cigarette and blows it out through tightly pursed lips while her round beady eyes get bigger. It always chokes me up me when she does that . . . So I started turning red and purple in the face, and the guy took a step backwards because it probably looked like I was about to spit bile all over him. “Tell this motherlover, to pull his hot damn pants up before you even think about giving this blanking liar any money!” my inner goddess said. Well, I only had a dollar left in my wallet, so I gave it to him and he disappeared. He vanished pretty quickly, for a guy wearing his pants slung under his butt. ( I think earlier, when he stepped back, maybe Princess Waddlewaddlesmokesmoke probably reached out and grabbed him by the balls, or pulled on his bad trousers.) He obviously was not a big fan of the spirit world, so -*poof*- gone.
Wow. My inner goddess had a lot of enlightenment to share with that guy too. . . I know, because I’ve had to listen to it all day long. It’s been one of those days. . . and my inner goddess is still releasing stuff. . .Lots of stuff. . .Many opinions. . . Lots of emotions. . . Stories,. . . and Let me tell you’s. . . and all about injustice, and the price of hamburger. . .etc.
Everywhere I go, she is showing me rocks, and saying “You see that? That is like your brain! It is hard as a rock. It’s cold, it doesn’t get any oxygen! It’s bigger than your brain, maybe you could make a trade and be better off!”
Yeah.
So, I can’t go to McDonalds again for a while. . .It upsets my inner goddess too much. . . Maybe I can go to Wal-Mart and make fun of all the homely girls there. That always seems to put inner goddess into a better mood. You know how they get. . .
It made me wonder, once, if maybe I could trade my inner goddess - for someone’s inner god? Only, I’ve never heard of any guys having inner gods. . . But all women have inner goddesses. . . Yes. I think that means that all women are divine, and all men are worthless piles of poo. Understand, I’m not totally clear on that yet. But - it probably has something to do with why my inner goddess keeps showing me brain-shaped rocks all the time.
Seriously, though. I’m lucky to have my inner goddess. Really. She does sweet things for me. Like when the alarm goes off in the morning, my inner goddess encourages me to embrace every new day with a smile. She tells me: “Get your ass out of bead you worthless piece of man meat!”
And, she encourages me to spit. I don’t spit. But she thinks it is a man-thing to spit. She always gives me helpful guidance like: “Okay, you can spit here if you want.” And I say,” I don’t want to spit.” and she says “You’re a man, I know you want to spit.” “No. Really, I don’t want to spit.” And so we converse like that, and she keeps me company, and often she points out all of the rocks that we pass by that remind her of my brain.
So, you see, everything was going along swimmingly, when I get this knock at my front door. It’s an angel, wearing a green basketball jersey. So I says to him; “Cool jersey dude!” And he says to me; “Wilst thou please stop feeding ye old grid!” And I’m like, shocked. I don‘t feed any grids. I put some food out for the cat, but I don’t feed grids. “Are grids eating my cat food?” I asked him quizzically. “No,” he says, “It’s your inner goddess.” “Get outta here!” I exclaimed, my inner goddess is eating my cat food?” “No, he says, “Your inner goddess is feeding the old grid.” Oh, well that makes more sense. Wait a minute. No It doesn’t. “My inner goddess doesn’t feed grids! If she saw a grid, she would poke it in the eye with a lit match, not feed it. Hell, (Yeah, I don’t know why, but I always tend to talk to angels about Hell) If there was anything good to eat, she would grab it for herself! She makes me eat chocolate truffle bon-bons at 4am just because it bothers her to have them lying around unprotected. Believe me, she would NOT feed one to a grid. She would have me eat it straight away first. You can bet on that. “
“No!” says the angel again. “ It’s the energy. Your pride, arrogance, cold indifference, cruel words and actions, your harsh cutting judgments, your steely resolve to see your personal will done.” “Oh hell,” I says, “My inner goddess gives all that away ALL the time for free! That’s just how we roll. “ “But that’s not cat food.” I said. . . And my inner goddess pointed out to us a brain-shaped rock on my front porch.
“As long as the cat or something eats all of it, I don’t see any problem. Does the grid need a mint to soothe it’s upset tummy or something? “
“No.” the angel said. It is the selfish, evil, sinful energy that you generate when you please her. It all goes into the grid and bad things feed on it and get bigger.”
“Okay, I said, “so if all the selfish evil sinful energy helps makes bad things bigger, that’s a bad idea, right, to have bigger bad things? I began being fascinated by this big bright idea of being better by being more benevolent by bypassing my birthing and benefitting bigger bad things.” Bygosh. It made sense.
“Yes.” The angel said (He was being a whole lot more agreeable now than he was before, for some reason.)
So I said to my inner goddess; “Princess, I have to make a choice, I think I’m going to keep you, because I like being special and having an inner goddess, and you give me guidance, and nobody can help make horrid faces at the ugly girls at Wal-Mart like you can, and I love magic. But, we have to stop feeding the grid and making bad things bigger, so, we’re going to have to eat just plain old corn flakes from now on. Bland, I know, but it’s for the good of humanity. All of the selfish evil sinful energy related to eating all those chocolate bon-bons and gourmet stuff, . . . just has to go.
"Yeah, we'll see who eats corn flakes," she said.
(C) RLMcCormick
