Truth lives at That LARRY SHOW, a weekly sojourn at the crossroads of madness and enlightenment. With LARRY in your life, you'll Take No Sh*t, and laugh your way to victory.
How Marxism is destroying America ▲ Why the hive hates you ▲ How many .22 caliber shots does it take to shred a hornet’s nest? ▲ Why the hive loves the words manifesto, mandate and together ▲How the pandemic has been leveraged to tear America apart ▲ Why the migration away from hive strongholds will be futile ▲ If you love America, you need this episode — and pesticides!
What’s more important – career or pointy chicks? ♦ Why is the FCC regulating bike bells? ♦ How did “be safe” replace “no guts, no glory?” ♦How did risk management become a career? ♦ What 3 things should you do before re-locating? ♦ Why must travel be a critical part of your life? ♦ What thing should be your life’s compass? ♦ Listen to this episode and conquer fear!
UNCOVERED: The poker table in the desert where space aliens play 5-Card Draw ▲ LOCATED: All the crap in the world ▲ DEFINED: The difference between crap and shit ▲ REVEALED: # of days we waste searching for misplaced crap ▲ EXPLAINED: Why the Mojave lures beings from other galaxies ▲ CURATED: Doll-Head Art — what is it and where can you buy some – cheap? ▲ UNLOCKED: every mystery, in this very special episode!
Is a picture worth a thousand words? If it’s DaVinci’s Salvator Mundi, which fetched $450 million at auction, hell yeah...a thousand words in 24 karat gold. Da Vinci aside, even the most clever wordsmith can’t compete with the truth and brevity of un-doctored photograph.
In this Part 2 of Call of the Weird, come traipse with me through the Sky Village Swap Mee (sic)–
Swapmee!
See – an image of the sign says it better than I ever could. Kind of like that old Henny Youngman joke – take my wife… please! Since the Mojave is reputed to be an interstellar travel depot, perhaps that sign is a clever allegory – swap MEE for one of your fellow alien beings and take me the fuck off this planet! A lot of people share that desperate sentiment. How do I know?
I’m one of them.
We have our own secret signals and handshakes. In fact, handshaking is one of the most obvious. If someone wants to shake my hand, I’ll shake. Fuck Fauci. He’s a liar and a punk and is criminally culpable for a lot of awful things. His felonious fuckery dates back to the dawn of the AIDS crisis in the 80s. Informed people hate him. With good reason.
Another covert communique is walking around in the great out-doors bare-faced. When we Daredevilspass each other on hiking trails or sidewalks, we smile knowingly. And we can see each other smile. Imagine that.
We also see the signals from those Safety Firsters who are quite happy with this planet’s current state of irrational fear and mindless, twitch-muscle obedience to self-proclaimed “experts…” big Pharma scumbags, social media tycoons and gubmnt douche-bags. Like NY’s Cuomo and California’s Newsom. Cuomo should be sharing a cell with Fauci and Newsom should be bitch-slapped so hard, his hair-do comes undone.
When the Safety Firsters leave their basements, their rheumy, vitamin D-depleted eyes throw hate bombs at us Daredevils’ naked faces. They silently wish their orbs could generate a death ray like General Zod in Superman II. Which is why I always wear mirrored shades. Right back atcha! Sometimes they cross the street rather than cross our paths. I’m good with that.
At the Sky Village Swap Mee, the signage is a lot more serious about masking than the vendors are. In fact, the vendors appear to be serious about nothing. Just look at the orderly display of their inventory.
Crap from here to the horizon.
Some vendors call themselves “artisans” rather than artists. Of course, 3 syllables is always better than two, especially when you’re slinging bullshit. Besides tie-dyed apparel and taffy twist hash pipes, they output a lot of what I call Doll Head Art. Why doll heads? Because they really amp-up the creep factor. Just as Alice Cooper.
Doll Head Art – get some NOW!
And what is the fascination with toilets?
When in doubt, add a toilet.
Does your yard look unremarkable? Make it stand out, with a life size, rusty IRON STAGECOACH. You’ll be the talk of the town. Best of all, the neighbors who hate it… cannot burn it or break it. Only a crew with acetylene torches can make it go away.
US Park Rangers claim these are ancient petroglyphs. That’s bullshit. They’re emojis.
In the high desert, the message is… there is no message.
There is no message. not now, not ever.
How much would you pay for this? Okay, how much would you demand to haul it to a dump?
Sex Magick in the Mojave – how Scientology’s founder and the father of the U.S. space program teamed up to conjure the demon whore of Babalon ▌The INTEGRATRON – the dome in the desert that’s a time machine ▌The dinosaurs that guard Palm Springs ▌How today’s tech is tomorrow’s landfill ▌The last big idea mankind will ever have ▌Want to know the future? Listen!
People ask me why I can’t stay away from the desert. I’ve never had an adequate answer. But I just flashed on the perfect response. There was a best selling book – Why Men Love Bitches. That’s why the desert turns me on. As biomes go, it’s one raging, sexy bitch.
For some years, I lived at the beach on the South shore of Long Island. Not near the beach – AT the beach. I’d step outside and my feet were in sand. Loved it. There was a jetty nearby, with a hole on the bottom that was a fish condo. Any time I wanted, I’d bait a hook, zip it into the hole – presto – fresh fish dinner. The sea is a generous place. It will feed you, float you, toss you around like a playful father.
Then, there are those other beaches – the waterless ones. My favorite is the Mojave. 48,000 square miles of water-less beach. Vultures instead of sea gulls. Scorpions and rattlesnakes instead of fish. The Mojave should be renamed, NATIVES ONLY.
The desert is not inclusive. It is extremely exclusive. Only homies are welcome. Visitors can visit, but watch where you step. And if you over stay, the desert won’t politely hint that you should leave, it will try to kill you. It needs no fences or walls to keep out invaders.
The desert – specifically the Mojave desert, is locus of the weird and nutty. Aren’t crazy chicks always the hottest? Like calls to like, and so I guess I must be off my chooch as well.
Here are some images from the high desert.
Who is this Joshua dude that they should name the trees after him?A private Calvary.Whore of Babylon that Parsons and Hubbard tried to locate. Who can blame them? She’s pointy AFEverything mulches.Trunkless heads in a trunk.
