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The Guard

The Guard #3

The Guard

I'm going to continue on the theme of connections. The people that I have run into on the road and the people they have bumped on their travels. I find this one of the most fascinating things in my life experience. Sometimes I say what the fuck, I cannot believe I just met this guy.

Two weird things, yes, weird I should really say mysterious

I 'm going to go on the premise that there are good things coming and going and horrible things also.

They can only be deflected or collide with

People are like this with their own orbits thus the expression like a whirlwind, some people you should stay away from, they can actually lead to your demise

Anyway, on a sunny day I was going to a clothing manufactures, assholes and exploiters every single business in Los Angeles in the clothing sector, the only reason and this must be going on in other industries, was to see me was in order to waste my time, they would always deny the fact that I have a right and that I was trying so hard try to make a living this just order the samples and get the fucking Chinese do it for you.

Just copy my shit, exploit me and then spit me out, I guided companies begin, I would spend time putting them on their feet and as soon as they gained wings and began to fly they would drop me like an anchor.

I landed a big whale ones and it was lost, man did that hurt

This is the life of a fabric salesman,

This very noble looking guard, he also an elderly black man, He had the honor to serve in the military; And since I have the gift of gab, I have always had a knack for extracting the best of their life experiences, from people.

I really do love people and believe that they are generally good

Anyway, where do you think this man was stationed in? He was military police and a guard in a very unusual prison In Europe.

It had just a hand full of old Nazis, big names.

I suppose they were not all killed in the Nuremberg trials, any other time in History we would of slaughtered any remaining Nazis; but I suppose you could not kill them all, and we showed some compassion that they completely lacked. In a time of healing

This in some fairyland way means to me that I have a connection to all those old dead fucks.

I grew up with a man that was my father's best friend, Leo. He lived almost to one hundred years. Is that not the best revenge? He had the horrible numbers tattoo on his arm to remind him of exactly how much pain he endured, his wife Jessica would prod him for info and he would get very upset; all he ever told her was that the beat the royal shit out of him for hiding some eggs.

And he had scars on his back and I'm mad they switched my bike when I was a teen unbelievable lesson in life.

I saw many people through the years with those reminders.

Creepy ass all shit.

I know I will never see another one of those awful reminders; when humanity went completely insane.

If it was not for the fact that my parents lived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, I would never of been born.

The two short stories I remember he told me about the inmates there is that they planted yellow flowers outside of one of the play areas, the old nazi came out one day and stomped and kicked every one of them.

A complete hater, until the very end.

I wish I could let him somehow know that they failed and some of us Jews are still here.

I believe that the Hebrews have been the light of the world for a very long time.

I enjoy the expression my people they have brought a great deal of love, knowledge and dedication to any country they lived in; yet they were repaid with scorn and hate and threat of annihilation. Jackie Mason during his stand up would always say "in every time in history", Dam it! That's mine.

The other event was the guard snapped a photo of one of the nazis with a tiny hidden camera at the end of one of his sleeves.

He was immediately called to the headquarters and told to hand it over. Until this day he has no idea how they saw him.

Has anyone ever heard the song, Tradition! From Fiddler on the roof play?

I' have my own song

By Marc Acrich


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