Deja vu – IRRITATED Nipple syndrome once again

I post this every Fall or in this case winter as here in Canada Irritated Nipple Syndrome is a reality. Mostly caused by our Northern winds and our lust for cheap polyester t-shirts. 

I have been plagued with this horrifying disease for nigh on 61 years now.

As fall has arrived I am once again plagued with the horrible INS, so, I am re-publishing a blog I wrote in November 2007


It seems to my contorted malformed outlook towards this self labeled existence your homo sapient species declare as humanity that as “Atomic Mother Earth” has another one of her annual menopausal temperature episodes, you are dancing in cohesion to her moods and wants.

If my memory does not fail me, then, I recall that not just twenty-four hours ago I was strolling the Danforth in a T-shirt and blue jeans. I recall my endocentric annoyance at the sweat gathering in the furrow of my brow as I glinted from the warm brightness of the summer comparable sunlight.

Yet, on this bright Thursday morn, “Atomic Mother Earth” has decided to plague me with the dreaded “Irritated Nipple Syndrome”. My whole life I suffered from “INS”. The symptoms of which is a debilitating and very sensitive soreness of the good old human teats.

There is nothing ever so painful as the abrasiveness of cheap blended polyester brushing to and fro upon the super-sensitive, and, often amusing to play with, human nipple. Specially on a day as such where the cold bitter bite of lakefront wind has made my twin pleasure buttons stand hard and tall like two minute penises and declare their existence.

I would give most anything at this moment for the feel of warm dressed cotton or, perhaps, even the sweet caress of perhaps ‘Cashmere’.

If you happen to discover that you indeed have a spare ‘real’ T-shirt, my nipples would greatly appreciate a donation of such. I fear the coming vengeance of the Arctic wind inspired season of Canada’s winter and her cold crippling affect on my self inflicted, physical abused ‘too-many years of heavy lifting’. humanoid form. (I take a size man’s small, because “The Cosmic Muffin” puts great things in very petite packages,

So, where was I headed before my nipples got in the way……………………….Oh Yes! I remember now. As “Mother Earth” begins her seasonal transformation also do they, you or whoever I may be referring to.

I diligently trucked out into the public domains yesterday afternoon to record to memory the strange rites and rituals of you humanoid robotic clones of a greater being, so as, when the Mothership returns, I shall have gathered enough intelligence as to please the supreme powers that be, and, thusly, I may rightfully be receiving the ever patronizing pat on my head and the salutary equation of “Dann is a good boy!”. Of which I will reply the ever grateful “Thank you” and sheepishly grin and drool.

There you were, dancing your rhythms of daily disclosure and bartering your extensively earned numerical bank notes called “The Paycheque” to purchase licorice strands of candied sugars to ensure the quietness of the distressed two year old as he struggles to gain freedom from the stroller so as he may run rampant and yet again test your patience quota.

If so howled the crisp breeze from Lake Ontario, then, immediately your upper limbs clutch to protect the ever sensitive nipples. Nipples appear to me as a large factor in your everyday lives This is something that with my outlook and learning’s of culture I find very interesting. How such a little pair of budded human tissue can hold such a great importance in daily routines is absolutely amazing.

If “Mother Earth” decides that today is too be a chilled one then instinctively your arms cover them. If “She” decides that, perhaps, tomorrow shall be warm then – again – you may choose to wrap your arms across your breast plate so as your nipples are not visible through your choosing to dress in light clothing due to the heated air of the day.

On a warm summer’s day at the beach, the young females readily douse their feline bodies with the refreshing and cool lake water, but then they must protect their nipples from the wanton eyes of juvenile males who are hoping and praying that “The Hairy Thunderer” will grant them the blessing of a visual aid only comparable to that of a “Wet T-shirt Contest”.

Winter brings the crossing of arms and the multi-layering of various sweaters purchased through the Bay, or, maybe, even Walmart. Oh, but the constrictions of layer upon layer of artificial body coverings and the labourious way the wearing of such creates many lost minutes of most precious time, time better spent with our nipples.

If, in your wonderment of life, you are to have such a thought as, “Does this happen to the male of the species?” I can assure your curiosity with a definite affirmation. Males do in fact suffer the same fate, although, due to infantile imbedded social lessons they must bravely and with no sign of pain appear invincible to the effects of exposing their nipples to us all.

I, alone, may be the only exception to the rule. For I, without modesty, bravely announce to you all that “I have Irritated Nipple Syndrome” and I have no decent, and neither can I afford to purchase, a ‘real’ T-shirt.

I embarrassingly admit that I may in fact need of your charity in order that I may have a cotton T-shirt to keep me warm through out the coming all out attack of winter. (again I hint that I take a size man’s small, because “The Cosmic Muffin” puts great things in very petite packages, inbox me for my address, lol.

If perchance you have a spare appropriate t-shirt I would be forever grateful if you were to donate them. You may send them in care of:

D. Verner, 608 Dawes Road, Suite 610, East York, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M4B 2G6

All of the above mentioned observations have made me realize that by looking out my window and watching these humanoid lifeforms conduct their daily routines and dances, I can accurately determine the weather by how greatly the female Homo Sapient is clutching her breastplate. Such a simple but relatively accurate method of predetermining the weather. On the Mothership we are forced to depend on the science of meteorology and our daily session watching the universal weather channel on our installed satellite dish.

I bid you all a warm day in the emotional sense. I offer to you a simple concept to imbed into your daily routine – I offer that when your eyes are next to focus on your fellow man that your brain immediately sends forth but one word………..PEACE!

Good day to you and yours – Guter Tag zu Ihnen und zu Ihrem – Хороший день к вам и твоему – Bonne journée à toi et au vôtre – Buen día a usted y el suyo

I Am Afraid of Darkness

I am afraid of the darkness, but not the dark.

The darkness pushes back the Light. Allowing sorrow, pain and discomfort to steal joy from your mind.

I try to push it back. Hoping to gain back my Light.

The dark does not scare me because my Light knows it is harmless. It takes merely the flick of a modern switch to drive the dark away.

The Darkness brings out evils and torment.

It lives and thrives in the soul.

Mocking your sorrow.

Laughing at the pain you have endured.

Only love of life, love of family and the love of a true soulmate can push back the Darkness.

I pray someday we will evolve to the point where Darkness is no longer.

Until then, I remain – Dann, just as I am.

Surrounded by the Darkness and wishing it were merely “The Dark”.

But, it is not – it has gripped my heart, my soul and my life in ugly arms.

And whispered in my ear,

NO SOUP FOR YOU”

Which One Of Us Is ‘Different”?

Many people do not understand what they call “Mental Health“.

How do you explain the battle with your demons to someone that has been trained to believe that ‘different‘ is wrong?

Is ‘different‘ wrong?

Because to we who suffer through the constant battle of ‘personality disorders‘ YOU are the ‘different‘ one.

I do not believe in any of the labels society has placed on people.

I DO believe we all suffer from personality ‘conflicts’.

Every soul on this planet suffers the same stresses and have the same emotions as everyone else. We all live in the same space/time continuum. We all eat, drink and breathe the same.

We are all homo sapiens living on the same Big Blue Marble.

I have many demons who are constantly looking to diminish my everyday life. They do their best to bring anger, tears, sorrow and carelessness to the forefront.

I do get tired of battling them. I do give up on occasions.

I don’t want to, but, I get tired.

Damn, I get tired.

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Real tired! I am tired now.

I have no fight left in me.

Which leaves me in a quandary.

Do I wear myself out and try to stay “LightHouse“?

Or do I walk backwards and become “Shake“?

Or do I escape into my mind and live life as “Dann“?

Or should I allow my mind to burst and revert to the infant “Boo Boo“?

Boo Boo works, spend the rest of my years as a parentless child with a shitty diaper and speaking only gibberish.

Dann presents problems because he is fake as can be. The smiling face society says is ‘proper‘.

LightHouse is who I strived to be.  He is a nice man. Educated, loyal and truthful.

Unfortunately.

LightHouse gets hurt often.

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His smile is real. The reason he smiles is because society shuns those who do not wear the mask of the sheep.

But, I am no “sheep“.

Yes, I am having what you perceive as “psychological” disorders.

The disorders being that I refuse to be fake and I will not be commanded, I will not be controlled and I definitely will not let my life go on without a little help from my soul.

I will go on – maybe – maybe not.

I have published the fourth and closing chapter of my life – “Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”.

My ‘Walk With Dann Collection‘ shows well the battles I have fought trying to conform to the sheepdom of society life.

Now, if I were to die tomorrow, and no one were to remember me, there lays a permanent record of my lives and my seven previous deaths.

Forever out there in paper form and the evil virtual reality of the unrealistic internet.

We need to stop labelling.

We need to stop being clones of each others perceptions.

Simple as that.

Namaste’

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Unkz - A Canadian Cosmonaut

These Are My Published Books To Date

Last week I published my third volume of my “Walking On Dawes Collection”
This collection shows how no matter how fantastic you believe ganglife to be, Miss Karma and her brother, Mr. Chaos always wins in the end.

Today I published “Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut” the fourth and final volume of my “Walk With Dann Collection”.

The last chapter of my life, or as I should say, my various lives.

I pray that my honesty and confessions will touch at least one soul and prevent them from making the wrong choices I have made.

All my works are available at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B078JNX5WV

 

https://www.goodreads.com/LightHouseVerner

 

I write my books for me.

I tell my stories for my readers.

I am not sure if my works are badly written good stories or well written bad stories.

Not too sure I care either way. I do care that, in my “Walk With Dann Collection”, I am telling my life as brutally truthful as possible. In shame and in honour.

I do care that my ‘stand alone’ books, such as “The Last Canadian Cosmonaut” touch your heart.

I pray that my other collection, “Walking On Dawes”, shows that the gang life, although often ‘exciting’, leads only to karma biting your buttocks.”

My Walk With Dann Collection

Volumes 1, 2 & 3

Damaged” is my first book.

Like me, it is raw and full of mistakes.

I have left it “unedited” as life has left me.

DAMAGED”

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 1

A Walk from my birth till I meet my second wife.”


It is rough, crude in fact, numerous format conversion errors.

I left It raw on purpose as a testament to the honesty of my words and work.

It contains humour, murder, explosions and motorcycles.

It may or may not be fictional or may even be non-fictional.”

BANE

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 2

Walks you through my middle years and three decades of marriage.”

It does not contain the excitement of it’s predecessor.”

It begins to show you who I was and who I was becoming.”

 

BOON”

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 3

Walks you deep into my personal life of trials and tribulations and my uniquely twisted none the norm perception of my realty.”

“Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”

Volume 4 – Walk With Dann Collection

Unkz - A Canadian Cosmonaut

There are deeply complicated thoughts that haunt you, when you well know you are insane.

Insane by their standard.

I believe I am just Dann, just as I am.

I am not like others.

I am not them.

I am me.

Yet, there are multiple “me’s”.

And they are all I can or should be.

As the previous confessions of my life told within my first work, “Damaged, tells, I am, ‘broken

Began at birth.

Blue baby.

Unplanned child.

Unwanted but wanted.

And left to die before I had lived.

Only my deepest consciousness knows what I have experienced.

To keep my spirit alive my mind vaulted those days far in the depths of the encrypted memories.

Never to be re-lived.

Never to scar my soul once more.

Now, I am sixty-one years old and it is time for me to end this “Walk With Dann Collection” with this, my final volume.

To give closure to the three previous quarters of my numerous lives.

I am not soon to ascend.

But, my Walk With Dann Collection must contain a sincere final volume of my most innermost beliefs and thoughts.

For I cannot author them after I reach my own personal concept of Valhalla.

A final confession of both my rights and my wrongs.

I will utter exact truths, I will hold no quarter from exposing who I have become in the final quarter of a Canadian Cosmonaut’s life.

My life has been no different than yours.

My strife, my loves, my sorrows, my learning and my battlefield are far different than yours.

I present to you ………….

“Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”

So, come, Walk With Dann.

THE LAST CANADIAN COSMONAUT”

(My first ‘standalone book‘ and my personal favorite.)

TLCC (2)

THE LAST CANADIAN COSMONAUT”

Here are the opening pages

The smell of the ocean danced on my nostrils as I walked, slipping and sliding, across the flats. My eyes darting to and fro, carefully scanning ahead for sink holes.

I should have been walking the other direction. Towards the junior high school. Towards hippie teachers trying to teach me of science, faith and nature.

I could hear the train in the distance. Pulling it’s tonnage of sugar cane around the bend to the refinery.

The tug boats crested the horizon. Their wake spewing behind them as they pushed against the mighty tanker so as to slow it’s unforgiving momentum. Lest it run ashore.

The shore. My foster home was there. High up the hill. It’s windows like two large eyes, taunting me with guilt.“Go to school“, they seemed to say.

I can’t”, my reply.”

Walking On Dawes Collection

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I WANT TO BE ‘FLOKI’”

Walking On Dawes Collection”

Volume 1”

This is a tale of a family who live their lives within the gang life. Except Little Ray. He and his family want him to break the cycle and live a normal life.”

There is tragedy, laughter and most of all ‘insight’ within.

Big Roy - Dedication

So come with us as we

Walk On Dawes.”

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You Can’t See Me”

Walking On Dawes Collection

Volume 2

This is a portrait of a broken man living a broken life in a broken world where family and friendship are one and the same.

Where wrong choices can lead to lifelong regrets. Haunting the very soul and stabbing the heart daily to remind you of the penalties of actions.

Where a man can be all alone and un-noticed in a crowded room.

Where sadness shadows joy and joy masks sadness.

This is the life of one man on one street in one city.”

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6315 – The Original Urban Viking”

Walking On Dawes Collection”

Volume 3”

Life can be unfair. It can be brutal.

Especially for an inner city young man growing up in the projects.

This is a tale of such a man. A man who walked many paths. Who made choices – good and bad. Who experienced love, hate, joy and sadness and bears the scars to show their result.

A man who chose the path of gang life over grade school classes. A man who’s rocking horse was a Harley Davidson. His playground was the streets. His graduation was held in a Federal Penitentiary.

A man who found remorse and regrets haunting him throughout his adulthood.

A man who wanted out.

A man who wished for peace in his soul and calmness in his heart.

His name,

6315 – The Original Urban Viking”

6315 Back Cover

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