The Liar and the Moderate Witless Terrorist

   Before you read this, if you intend to read it, know it is not about real people. These are figments of my imagination.  As far as I know, there are no real liars or witless moderate terrorists.  I made them up.  They don't exist.  The painting is of a friend who posed.  Again, this is a imaginary story.

   Once upon a time, a couple composed of a liar and a moderate witless terrorist crossed my path. They looked like normal people, so I smiled.  They smiled back until I said, "No", to cutting down the trees. They declared war. First, they called the army. The liar made up wild stories she said I did. The army believed her. The couple stole my porridge and my refrigerator and told the army the ants did it and the army believed them.  When I called the army, the officers said, "Back off!"  I died.  In my sleep, I painted ugly evil people and the liar said I painted them.  The American President didn't care so the liar and the moderate terrorist went to the pharmacist, who sent me bottles of poison.  Another pharmacist liked my paintings and told the liar and the terrorist I would never cut down the trees and they could lay down and die.  I was very happy, but the experience had been a bad one.  I had to go back to school to learn how to live and breathe.  I'm doing my homework now.  Probably for a long time.
I have so much to learn.
 

  When the war started, back in 2013, Lupus came back.  It was easy.  I had purchased anxiety years before at the Horn and Hardart Automat.  It was on sale, only $.05.  Cheap.  Seventy percent off.  I brought it home and nobody noticed.  I looked the same, but my fingernails were shorter.  In 2013, I was on a boat at Bermuda getting drunk on Ukrainian Lemon Vodka from my Ukrainian "niece".  The boat landed in Los Angeles and I found the moderate terrorist had popped psychedelic mushrooms close to Harry's mouth.  Harry couldn't remember, but he told a general he knew from Philadelphia.  It was something to remember.  I set out walking home.  I had to protect the dog.  When the rain hit in Oklahoma, I hitched a ride back to the Pacific.  I felt safer there.  In the end, I had to get back to my garden, regardless of Lupus and tired feet.
  Lupus will forever be a problem, but I did win the Lupus Lottery.  I could be dead, or on the way further.  I'm not.  I say, with more education, I will be wiser.  The liar and the witless terrorist are happy being a liar and a witless moderate terrorist.  They are on Broadway and have fans.  Sometimes, I think I feel their eyes, but it's only cat hair.  My heart tells my brain to register them for the Irish Sweepstakes and leave them on the spaceship, but my feet are stuck and they remind me.  I am  Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom (and Warfare).  My compassion runneth over. I am all that. And less, depending on the hour and the food.
#Lupus
#ElderlyLupus
#LupusGone
#BadFriendFable
#EvilDoers
#DealingWithBadPeople
#ModeratelyBadPeople
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