Boardwalk: George-V {Chair Person}

Portrait of paranoia and good-courage in Atlantic City for adjectives of cop-fantasy cleats.

An Earth-transit paranoia tale for your Saturday's Eve (set in Atlantic-City and Paris). Happy Xmas December, all 

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I was making a special language for securities in Boardwalk-town (Atlantic City), New Jersey for American Homeland confidence for games of fortune premonition when I read a social media post about terrorism worry in that part of Earth in my age of Selfie-lifestyle linked everyday consciousness.

GIRLFRIEND: I've been a casino-waitress for years and think it's a prank.

ME: I doubt it, Ezzy...there's some post-9/11 era American Homeland hell.

GIRLFRIEND: Me thinks the poster only wanted to make post-9/11 paranoia.

ME: I doubt it, Ezzy...I'm gonna make a Boardwalk daily securities-walk.

GIRLFRIEND: Ha, you're just a baseball-cards salesman, doll (ha).

ME: I've got a sick-sense about it...I feel the culprit means more than prank!

GIRLFRIEND: Facebook-like?

So, I set about making daily sunset Boardwalk citizen-patrol walkies in Atlantic-City time; and I knew this courage would give my casino-waitress darling (Ezzy) some real American Homeland confidence for patriot-image (ha). However, I stayed straight (serious) about the daunting challenge for my cleats and kept-eye out for any stranger looking 'character' with eyes for threats to this 'fantastic' pocket of Earth for social media faces/art (damn).

READER: You've been blogging about a threat to the Boardwalk, friend.

ME: Well, me thinks this terrorist-prankster means more evil than good!

READER: What if I claimed to you...that I'm the terrorist, friend?

ME: Why'd a Boardwalk-threat fellow of darkness make multi-alias comments?

READER: Maybe the culprit wants some homegrown equivalence to 9/11, ok.

ME: If it is you, reader...maybe Atlantic City is simply a birds-eye fence (no?).

READER: Maybe (Selfie-like).

The terror-prankster stopped making his (anonymous?) social media posts about threats to Boardwalk-town; and I had to wonder if it was because he read that random (anonymous?) reader's comments who chatted with me online or if it was because he simply caught-wind of a new fever of Internet-securities chats about Earthling transit distances to everyday-life comforts of the Ego (wow). Whatever the reason, the threat subsided, and I decided to make French toast with Ezzy and flew her away to Paris with me, where she had procured room-passes to a very very ornate 'hostel' (George-V), where we'd daydream about the evolution of capitalism in the Americas (hmmm).

EZZY: If Martians invaded Earth for envy and pride and hell, they'd visit Paris.

ME: Nah...they'd travel to the Boardwalk-town of Atlantic City, doll (ha).

EZZY: Well, I got you this world-trek fun comic (Gypsy).

ME: Sounds-dialysis for leviathan/uncertainty of the Blue Planet (thanx).

EZZY: Facebook-like.

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)