Jenny Craig and the Bulimic Diet Plan

Strangely enough, for my whole life most people have chosen to never tell me the truth and  inevitably the truth always comes out at some stage. No matter how simple the question, they simply cannot give me a straight answer. Funny really, a gay guy wanting a straight answer.  Though in my heart I know that the lie is there, and the more I search for the truth, the deeper they build or extend the lie. And sure enough when the truth is out I work myself up to such a state that  I’m projectile puking like a Jenny Craig bulimia diet plan. Sadly, I am not skinny and I do apologize to those that suffer from the disease. 

I am seriously wondering why people can’t be open?  Yes, the truth may hurt sometimes but, at least it is the truth, and there is no white washing it.  In my heart of hearts I know that the deception is there and the more I delve the deeper the wound, the more fabricated the lie becomes.  For instance a couple of years ago we were organizing our trip to Europe and I was discussing my thoughts of the plans to my friend to discuss with her husband.  I would ask her to run my thoughts past her husband. She was convincing in the beginning that she would discuss when he got home from work.  Days would go by and I would repeat my questions and either she would avoid (pretend she never read my messages) or tell me he had to race out early for work, or would return from work tired and go straight to bed or golf days were on etc etc.  The little fibs kept building and my curiosity and wanting an answer was wearing thin. It came to the Friday and she avoided the topic by saying she would speak with him on the weekend. Sure, I thought (NOT)!  She is avoiding, fibbing, hiding something, or was too embarrassed to tell me she was a tight ass (which I already had known so no need hide). That very last night after finishing my talks with her and her telling me she would ask him on the weekend, I was running down my newsfeed on FB to see her husband say “Enjoying Turkey”  and photos to match.  The next day I thought, ‘I won’t let on.’ So, when I spoke to her asking how she was going explaining my thoughts to her husband, she said she would ask as soon as he got home from his golf.  I let her run with her deception until a day or two later I ask if his game was in Turkey?   Turkey she proclaimed, with a dash of guilt.  Yes, I said I saw him on FB.  The excuses came left right and centre as to why she had not told me.  None of which would have taken precedence over truth, but hey she promised never to lie again, we went on our holiday of Europe and the Turkey saga is behind us. 

salon.com

Having given an example of a simple lie, I wonder why do people have to do it?  Why can’t they be open?  They can be forthright in business dealings.  Forthright in their political and religious beliefs but when asked some simple question from a friend or relative does it need the deceit?  Please, don’t tell me they didn’t want to hurt my feelings!  That’s what it does big time with the barrage of cover-ups and avoidance of topic because the truth comes out in the smallest of ways, and cuts like a surgeon’s scalpel.  

 

Is it that some people are more prone to being lied to than others?  Do they expect me to be like a policeman and search for the truth?  Or do they really think I am a fool who is gullible enough to let it go without question?  Why is it that those who have been hurt badly must be subjected to more deceit from their closest and dearest? 

Simply I put I to my jury of readers - why is it so? 

Until next time cheers, care for yourselves and those around you. 

The Devil is alive and well!!

 As movies and drama series often ask you to believe that their stories are fictitious, and that the characters are those of the imagination of the writer, then this is too. But a word of warning, if one of these occurrences appears to be something you have witnessed or are experiencing, please seek help for either yourself, or the person, you see in the story line. 

In a time when through death most people are unified in their grief, we watch as family and friends alike are divided without support, without compassion, without resolve and indeed without closure.

Instead these mourners try to fathom the depths of evil of this little old lady in the beret.  They stand breathless, hopeless, and in total despair as to how this shriveled up old person could have woven her incantations on them and her victims.  
 

Ten years of love and friendship eroded and white anted. Ten years of dividing and conquering relationships that were built of rock, respect, and generosity of the heart Ten years of breaking someone so as to control their very being. Ten years of building her cult - handpicked disciples of evil.  
 

The outside appearance of this three time married, doting mother was nothing but a veneer to hide her heart of thorns and broken glass. That veneer was as impenetrable as titanium and as cutting as a diamond blade. Those that attempted to love in a human fashion were soon beaten to submission to adhere to the rules of the cult and its leader.  
 

The rules of this cult, which by all purposes was to appear as a normal family with the highest standards of love and integrity, was merely a sham for worship, praise, adoration, and thankfulness to be in the angel of deaths presence. For the privilege of being part of this club, members needed to totally believe every word she uttered in her address to her people.  One must never doubt the supreme leader for fear of retaliation and humiliation. 

One must worship her as if she is the very essence of the meaning of love. Her soul and her heart is to be the temple of which her followers must strive to enter its doors. And believe it, she will not allow entrance unless she is the very shrine on which you worship. 

Let it also be known, that her children do not immediately inherit divine entrance to her tabernacle of evil. They too must bow to their dominatrix of power and corruption. To attempt leaving her controlling manipulative arms is to be exiled to a million humiliations and to publicly be stoned at the foot of her temple. No friends, no family, no joyful baggage, unless by proclamation from the divine ruler, must enter her temple walls.
 

On marrying the high priestess of pain and evil, her new consort will be hypnotized to believe that to live side by side her will be a life of joy and happiness. However as the ink dries on the wedding parchment, he is lulled into biting that apple as was given by that little old lady to Snow White. The people of his previous kingdom are shut out slowly but surely. The family and friends of his kingdom are exiled and his armies are depleted, discredited and forced to retreat as her spell takes over his very mind and soul.  He becomes powerless and his mind so brow beaten, he must obey or face her wrath. He succumbs to her spell, having no troops, no support, and no arsenal left in his reserves. 
 

As time goes by this priestess desires the need for a new lamb to be slaughtered at her alter. She needs to narcotize and rid herself of this old sheep that has become tiring and too time consuming and indeed no spring lamb. 
 

Meanwhile, the consort’s battle weary family, friends and expatriates attempt to break down the walls of the temple to free their narcotized hero from the slaughter. But, by this stage he is too weak, too anaesthetized to accept their help.  He has nothing left but to succumb to the encyclical as written by the devil herself.  
 

As his days are numbered, and he has outlived his usefulness as consort, signed his kingdom over, and tightened her borders from his family, friends, and fellow comrades, he calls on his sudden death to free him from this mortal life. There is nothing left for him. She has depleted his capacity as a man.  She has meticulously over ten short years gained total control  of his very being as do cult leaders. She has become his attorney of well-being, his attorney of time and indeed his attorney of execution. 
 

As the consort finally closed his eyes in peace, and lay at the cold entrance into the afterlife, not once did the evil priestess call on those that cared and loved him in his mortal life.  After all one must realize their place. Only she who must be worshipped, and glorified, must bask in his death. Only she who has controlled his very existence, and calculated his demise, is worthy of grief.  Those left behind must realize that the crocodile tears are a divine right and are cultivated so as not to wash the blood from her shrine. She does, however, live from the blood that she has sucked life from.  
 

As his celebration of life was celebrated, his weary followers were deleted from his life story.  His family and friends were deleted from his history.  Instead, his hypnotic state was glorified as per the hand of the devil, to only recognize her presence in his life and, a few anecdotes from those that are of her faith.  
 

As the days have turned to weeks, his cabinet of followers and family has had memorials of their own. They have discovered that this Priestess of evil has raped and pillaged many kingdoms before.  She has built walls around each, and every, kingdom that she has conquered.  She has taken many hostages, and until now, had tied their tongues so as not to showcase her blood bathed Temple of Evil.  
 

In the next few weeks we will discuss how this Evil Woman has worked in a pattern. Her evil is calculated to the tee. Just as a spider lures its prey to its web, just as a cat plays and toys with its prey before finally pouncing, just as an assassin stalks his victim before finally pulling the trigger, just as sure as night turns to day, the die is cast and there is no turning back.

Her depth of evil is fathomless and that those who have experienced her wrath must cling to what is keeping them safe thus far.  

symbolism.wikia.com

Everyone is a victim of this priestess! Some simply do not yet know it!!!!!!!!!

Life's Pleasures #inspirational #love #heaven #truelove

Today, I am going to talk to you about the pleasures of life, about sharing experiences with your partner or your loved ones.  Think how nice it would be to stroll down the cobbled streets of the oldest streets in Rome with your partner, dine in the most chic restaurants in Paris, share your berth, your bed and romantic views from your own balcony aboard 'The Christina' on the Mediterranean. Meandering hand in hand through the zig zag of narrow streets of Venice, making wishes on the Bridal Bridge in Central Park.  STOP THE PRESS!!! You have no money to do these things!  How do we enjoy the pleasures of life without money?

Do we really need a lot of money to give us pleasure?  Does money bring us happiness? Do diamonds and pearls assure us of love, romance, and true commitment from our partner?  Yes, they are nice, but do these things really give us that warm feeling inside? That feeling, that you are special? That feeling that special person gives you when you touch! That feeling that you can bare your soul and not care what others think but that one person.  To look in their eyes and know without hesitation that that special person sees you, and not cares that you have that little zit on your face.  That person sees beyond your imperfections and, loves you for you.  That person wants to share the ups the downs and everything in between - with you! All they ask in return is that you share your love and build hearts filled with love not money.

How often do we read in the tabloids of the rich and famous - of their romance, their fairytale weddings, their honeymoons in the most desired destinations of the world.  Quite often in our lunch hours, while shopping for some groceries, in our mere mortal workday drudgery we purchase a magazine. We rush back to the drudgery and think, 'Tonight I will escape into the world of glamour and read about a life of which I can only dream.'  But, maybe if I just grab a quickpic, my partner and I can maybe join this glamorous couple once our numbers pop out of the shoot in tonight's jackpot.

You get home, after driving yourself through that peak hour traffic and unpack the groceries. You water the garden, share with your partner how your day was while you are ironing tomorrow's clothes and he is preparing dinner. You trample through the bills that need paying, feed the dog, wash the clothes for tomorrow's iron. You eat, then clean the dishes, and finally sit down on the couch to share your magazine of escapism and watch the numbers drop on your screen. Your partner sits with pen and paper to collect the numbers and, as he shares the numbers that weren't on your ticket, he turns to you and says, 'Hey honey, the headlines say that Mr and Mrs Famous have split!' This is before you have even opened the magazine!!!  You close the magazine, throw it on the coffee table along with the million other unread mags, fall into his arms and toddle off to bed to share the passion with him (a passion that gets better every night). In the after glow, you lay there thinking in your not so dream destination bed, how wonderful it is to share your life with someone who loves me, just for me! Then you click your heels three times and say, 'There's no place like home!' and  fall asleep to face another day.  

What I am saying here is that money can't buy that love.  Take some time with the one you love. Pleasures don't need to cost a dime. Share you life with the one you love and they can bring much pleasure. Whether its cleaning house, washing the car, pruning the garden, just put some fun in it.     And, enjoy, is the word I use here.  Enjoy their company! Enjoy it when you both are bent over the floor scrubbing that spot off the carpet! Enjoy the water play while washing the car! Enjoy wiping the sweat off each other's brow and other places while all hot and sweaty in the garden.  These things don't cost - they bring the achievement that you are still together and that eventually,you will enjoy that day of walking those zigzag streets of Venice.  

In the meantime, enjoy the simple pleasures- take a stroll along the beach, a walk in the park, grab some take out and eat romantically beside the river, go for a drive into the country.  Believe me these are the pleasures of life that money can't buy.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

 Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com