AzzeKūn
AzzGab => BellGab => Topic started by: WORTHAUGERa on July 03, 2021, 04:40:01 PM
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On Sat, Jul 3, 2021 at 8:27 AM David Rubini <advertisingusa@hotmail.com> wrote:
Shoot up the butt and drink ur cum and do not lie or hit on me = CEASE N DESIST
Yeah, whatever, Loser. Send more lawsuits. Record more depositions. File more reports. Compose more email. Open more doorways. Kiss my ass. Lick my taint. Fuck right off. YOU ARE DONE.
= Quit using her as a prop for your gay show
Oh, really? What do you care? I'll let everyone know you're so concerned.
= demons in the phone
Only your ilk would care. "Are you recording this? I hear something. Do you hear that buzzing? Are you recording this? You're not recording this, are you?" hahaha, no, why, do you want a copy? hahahahahah AHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Wow, how did this power cord get cut? My cousin gave me that baby monitor. Now it's ruined. Beyond repair. How sad. Good thing I don't have a baby, I didn't have a baby, I've never had a baby, and if I did, how would I be able to monitor it now? That would be too bad, such a sad sad thing, to have an unmonitored baby. Sad! Good thing I wasn't using it for any such purpose at all whatsoever. Ever. Meanwhile, how did I ever possibly notice this occurence—a f****** AC power cord cut like, with a f****** magnet, how does that work?—and not mention that out loud to someone else? Gosh, I don't know... maybe it was another lone smoking gun.
The horror... the horror...
= i killed ur cat
Good, she was a pain in the ass anyway; almost as bad as you. Have fun in court, Moron. Get out and push.
From: David Rubini <advertisingusa@hotmail.com>
Sent: Saturday, July 3, 2021 10:23 AM
To: Michael Kuczi <michaelkuczi@gmail.com>; A Law <x@x>; A Lotus <x@x>; Flyingmerkitty <x@x>; Keith Rowland <kr@rowlandnet.com>
Cc: Michael Kuczi <kuczi@unicorntoday.com>; John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com>; kayntwhyle@gmail.com <kayntwhyle@gmail.com>; Jack Michaelson <jack@trioptimum.com>
Subject: Re: Not So Speedy, Made In Tie-Won (was: "Re: I’m Gone")
Fuck Yeah!
I mean.. Fuck u
I'm sorry you're not happy with the outcome you've achieved. Since you put in so much legitimate work, I'm surprised.
Also, I fucked your wife, you obnoxious, mewling, drooling, weeping, lying, deceitful, tedious, machinating, dipshit cuck. Get to your shack where you belong, and take her asshole gang with you: the father, the other father, Wonderboy, the other other father, the dopemonger, fucking all of them, take a bow, Team: you sure fucking earned those sippy cups. Here, have a drink, it's from Bill.
Christ, it's gotta be said: "You're gonna need a bigger Shack." Put a sign out front that reads, "Crying Executive Producer Storage." Just to lead all the traffick to one place.
THAT'S WHERE YOU LIVE NOW. THAT'S WHERE YOU BELONG. THAT'S YOUR HOME. GO HOME.
#Legacy
Kudos. Welcome Home.
You will always have Ballgrab. I own these bad bitches from top to bottom (you may address me as Whoremonger Sourceror Roberts): they can't ignore the forking of my techno. I AM USING THE WORD CAN NOT HERE. I don't care who owns the hardware, who pays the bandwidth bill, or who makes snarky, snotty, shitty little comments: I know, you know, everyone knows. PEOPLE KNOW. How did that work out, eh? Pretty good, right? Remember, there's no such thing as bad publicity... FOR ME.
CHECKMATE. Did you consent to being mated? No? Well, that's why there's a Czech. Do I care? Sure. Do I care that I care? No. Not at all. Not really. You—all of you—will never forget how close to Me you got to get. How did you like your ride? I'm calling it "The Great Texas Twenty-Twenty Two-fer." I just like the sound of it. It's got a nice ring to it, and it has a good beat and I can dance to it.
So we're good. What are you still doing here? It's over. GO HOME.
--
Best wishes & warmest regards,
MCK
CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE: The information contained in this ELECTRONIC MAIL transmission is confidential. It may also be subject to the attorney-client privilege or be privileged work product or proprietary information. This information is intended for the exclusive use of the addressee(s). If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that any use, disclosure, dissemination, distribution (other than to the addressee(s)), copying or taking of any action because of this information is strictly prohibited. Trust the plan. #wwg1wga
Sent from my iPhone
Here's your patented Archlich hitchbiker kitsch floor mop. You're going to need this for your new janitorial career.
But if I had my way, I would just command her to shove it up your ass instead. And then...
Script the flip, & do the twist. LIKE WE DID LAST SUMMER.
LIKE WE DID IN JUNE, GERANIUM. END OF LINE.
At least... That's what The Mandate From Heaven was for.
JUNE. Sooooo... why was it... July?
THINK ABOUT IT.
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We're reaching levels of cope that shouldn't even be possible.
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... is this what being in The Circle Of Trust is like? Please be advised—this doesn't look like any kind of Invitation to me.
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p.s. The madman actually fucking did it. *click*
I almost, but not quite, don't believe it. Film at 11:00.
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I almost, but not quite, don't give a shit at all.
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https://youtu.be/_6NEGeLHbaI
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Knowing what's going on is more comfortable when I know who everyone is.
Knowing who everyone is is not more comfortable.
SEA NO EVIL
HERE NO EVIL
SPICE NO EVIL
THE SPIC
MUST FOLLOW.
THE QWOUNCIL HAS SPOKENETH.
JACKSON REALLY IS YOUR BASIC BADASS HAND OF BAILING YOUR B**** ASSES OUT OF THE FIRE, YOU KNOW? WHO WANTS TO BE A PHOENIX THIS BADLY? OH, RIGHT, TROPHY.
END OF DISPUTE. HAVE A NICE DAY. DON'T MAKE ME TURN THIS CAR AROUND AND COME BACK THERE. SAY HI TO MOM FOR ME. DOES THAT B**** HAVE ANY TEETH LEFT?
5:5
Q‡
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[...]
Knowing who everyone is is not more comfortable.
[...]
THE QWOUNCIL HAS SPOKENETH.
JACKSON REALLY IS YOUR BASIC BADASS HAND OF BAILING YOUR B**** ASSES OUT OF THE FIRE, YOU KNOW? WHO WANTS TO BE A PHOENIX THIS BADLY? OH, RIGHT, TROPHY.
END OF DISPUTE. HAVE A NICE DAY. DON'T MAKE ME TURN THIS CAR AROUND AND COME BACK THERE. SAY HI TO MOM FOR ME. DOES THAT B**** HAVE ANY TEETH LEFT?
5:5
Q‡
(https://i.imgflip.com/5g0ph0.jpg)
Starting position really is quite comfortable. Stay tuned cheerio!
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Starting position really is quite comfortable. Stay tuned cheerio!
Quincunx uplink circuit successfully registered. Are your minds blown? Mine sure is.
This was an unexpected test--for me. However, I do hope to have more, and soon! This was fun! Until I got treated like an Irishman, or whatever. But, I have become used to that.
Also, (PROT) is gonna self-rez in 2 days. I'm gonna speed that up. *snap* D is still in Quantumland. AND STAY THERE, CHAMPION.
I think he deserves a rest. All that runnin'. Yeesh.
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I told you all, what it was: a rescue operation. And we're going to do it all again tomorrow.
/fleq
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a rescue operation. And we're going to do it all again tomorrow.
/fleqx
APPROVED. TIEII
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APPROVED. TIEII
https://www.instagram.com/p/CaoBaUdLUYh/?utm_medium=copy_link
I'm going to need a moment alone, Boys. Go wash your jackets or something.
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(https://i.imgflip.com/68nj4z.jpg)
IT'S AN EMERGENCY!!!"
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(https://i.imgflip.com/68nj4z.jpg)
Word on the street is that the half of the family that cooks and cleans was unable to be swayed by the relentless drumbeats of what passes for propaganda in a tribalistic culture, and there will no longer be any tolerance for any who wish to drum up support for yet another deep cycle of special executives taking a paydraw from Actual Treasury to bankroll anti-Hungarian agendas. Which, by the way, recently became a thing.
That's right, it's not the Jews, it's not the Sioux, it's not even the Lesbian Mafia--it's Me. I'm the head of the snake. I am behind it all. And, it's true: I am that goddam pretty.
Nevertheless. Another deep cycle? Pour moi? On the first day of spring? Them knuckleheaded old farts must be really hitting the rock bottom head first. I remember, it was basically two years ago, when I heard someone say, "(PROT) talks about Jack all the time. Like he owes him money." And I thought that wildly and lively amusing. "Hello Ancient & Venerable Ancestors Of Spring... yeah, uh, we're still having troubles with this ONE GUY. He's like Ah-nold in that flick Commando. Except without Rae Dawn Chong. The guy is nuts. He's like half of The Blues Brothers ordering the whole French-Indian War combo platter. Every day. Every time we celebrate, he shows up three days later. Can't we just crucify him to his drone and get back to shooting... skeet?" (*wolves begin to howl in the background*) "Yeah, thanks. Now, that's loyalty. That wasn't even all that great a joke--not bad tho--and there they were, right on target, no complaining about being asked to poop in certain places only under pain of death, just... support. There's your #Fealty, asshole, no wait, you're worse, you're an unqualified LAWYER asshole!"
Okay, that can't be a verbatim quote... before now, but I'll leave that open for a GNU licence. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, sitting out in the middle of noplace, and clearly marked as radioactive on Google Maps. Great idea. Whose idea was that? (Ed.-- A woman who thought I would be forced to learn how to make friends or die. Jokes on her: I only had no friends to protect them from (You). I have no idea, I had no access to any brainstorming sessions, and by this point... it's all hivemind, all the time. Except, of course, for the women and children. Who are probably all completely on board The New Paradigm.
Which, I have it on good Authority, now come -first-. Like it should be. Like it couldn't have been, because before, These People only had access to their own shit, and "Wizardry." Whatever the fuck that is. Who knew they needed a Sourceror? Not me. So, who did?
Well, it had to have been Jesus. Or Lucifier. Or Baldy. It wasn't my idea, and it couldn't have been hers... because if it had been, she would have recanted by now. And -someone- did that for -weeks- in the first place. Fortunately, verifying identity isn't my jurisdiction.
By then, I had learned to mostly keep my mouth shut, unless Jesus put me on a duty, so I feigned blank interest--easy to do, just imagine the matrilineal cooking protocols for outsiders, and remember that while I might not ever see the -real- food or the -real- friends, I sure as shit was getting to see the -real- poison, and, I was pretty lucky to still be alive.
Even with my blessings--and they are numerous and powerful, but at first, I was pretty Puny compared to Team Gustabvo--it was basically a near thing. "I give up. What the fuck am I doing here?" The answer is still the same:
Oh, this is the time of my life. Not only better than public school, but verified: oh, this has made it all worth it. And it's just getting started! Hip hip replacement hooray!
Better hold off on that one I guess. Tell me more about this "Crystal Healing Chamber" technology, Mr. Watson, stop distracting me with your puerile theories about the anus. God, you're boring. Why are you my assistant? Oh, right: you're a legacy.
I had to take her. And him. And, didn't I -just-? Oh my. For a ride, alright.
None of this was my idea, plan, desire, or even seems to my benefit. HOWEVER: I suppose that becoming equal in folklore stature to D.B. Cooper, Babe The Blue Ox, and D. Cooper, all at once, except better--and, I'm at least eligible on the surface, if not through-and-through... looks, it's Washington State. This is the Pacific Northwest. THIS PLACE IS HICKSVILLE.
Out here, my bullshit is actually impressive, to people who use bullshit. I have got moves like Mick Jagger's mother, that he was always too ashamed to use. Yeah, fuck that: immune to embarassment, trust me on that. And trust me further: someone who sees right through my bullshit will either challenge me to up my game, or go for a cheap advantage.
In either case, I gain the highest ground possible. This is easy, because I want for nothing else than to leap off this rock and into the sky. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN TASMANIA BY NOW. Instead, I'm getting soft-focus glossy shots sent to me from Tanzania of a person who looks almost, but not quite, what someone told her 'contrite' is supposed to look like.
I didn't even ask for this hit. It was forced on me. Jesus, who cares? I don't think someone is getting the message: it's called a trap, those are your fingers, but it's not Chinese. It's (CLASSIFIED). What do you care, anyway? Don't you have a lawn to mow? Go on. Git.
Meanwhile, back to reality: there's no -good- reason to be told to The Court to keep them from making themselves look stupider... so, I'm going to allow it. Grapefruit, her new boyfriend, her husband, her other husband, and all the others--and it is a long fucking list--who got themselves caught in the Hotel Notell when the music stopped are all pinned to the bedrock through their goddam cockles.
"Jack is bad for you! He must go!" Okay, well, it has clearly worked out great for you all. Now, what was so bad about what I was doing, from your perspective? No, this isn't an interrogation, wew lad.
See, when you're in a Trible, and The Chief tells you all to gather, one either gathers up, or... well, there's the door, I can see why you'd just wanna exile your self, stupid Man. No, don't take your wife, don't take your children--you don't want to look into The Eyes Of The Chief? Well, FUCK YOU: I don't care if it's "not the same on Zoom," fucker, you answer to My Chief or our loosely-defined-and-impossible-to-untangle economic-slavery arrangement WILL BE OVER! I mean, as soon as they're done fighting over me and I decide on which one I wanna pretend he had to "rape" me. Hah. It's THE TRIBE... who would be unwilling to help... Family?
Actual strangers, that's who. And who gets yelled at on any ship? The Swabbie. See, that's me: I am the newcomer, and I have not proven myself in any proscribed fashion. And The Austrian should know, he told us that he is an *expert* on Your People.
Seriously, when I figured this out, I was shocked--shocked, I tell you--that it all came down to racism. And, an Austrian started a turf war over sexual inadequacies and a Pisces played everyone against each other relentlessly? Wow, that all sounds familiar. Hey, dude! My dad drank! And your dad drinks! Let me tell you how this is gonna work out, Kid: stay with that fat fuck as long as you can, because even I am going to miss him when he's gone.
Now don't ever mention your mother's name to me, ever again. Trust me, she'll get over it. She's mostly mad that I made it impossible for her to kill him herself instead of just throwing one stick and then saying "The Hungarian did it! They're natural enemies! One of them insulted the other's cat, and suddenly they killed each other! A-bloo-bloo-bloo-boo-hoo!"
Ah, the fantasies of idle youth. Truth be told, I would have preferred a stand-up fight to another bug hunt, but, I digress.
I can start talking about this shit openly soon, you dig? It'll be nice. I'll be respectful. Grapefruit will probably start smiling a lot. Because, while I don't know what her plan was... well, I trusted it, even when I thought it looked stupid.
Since that's what I counseled her to do with me. What did she do instead? Try to get herself killed somehow, anyway lacking in obvious blame, so that I would spend my money on her children while she was reborn into another body to go hang out with her -real- friends... who, of course, know all about body-hopping.
I, of course, do not. I like my body, finally, and I'm not cleared for that kind of technology. I don't have that many bones. I don't know anyone I would trust with my books, let alone my body, and I don't know how to do that anyway. Sounds like fun though. Can I just learn how to stop wasting 60% of my fuel dollar by being a nub?
Oh, right, you want me to be inefficient. Sorry, I forgot--I'm Rachel Dolezar. Nice to meet you. Oh, he gets her benefits too, right? And I get a chance to swamp out toilets. Hrrm. I suppose this was meant to give me a strong "give up" impression. Well, something else happened: I hit the ejector button, gave everything exactly what they said they wanted... and I guess that didn't work out like those who hoped me eradicable had planned.
"This moss keeps growing back." Yeah, maybe it's a sign from an Eagle. Not God, though. Who is that again? Oh, right, Lucifer, and Jesus is God, and God is verboten, along with, oh, any kind of relevant context, now shut up, butt out, and can you cashapp me? I need money. Real bad.
My hand to God. Nearly five years of this. You may be wondering... "Pourquoi?" Well, long story. And I don't have the end yet.
Five more weeks. Seriously, someone is going to need that time. Someone eight or nine doors down the line is gonna find himself volunteering to donate a kidney or something. I don't know. It's different for me. I actually am sovereign on my own. These People have to negotiate with beings that they've been close-quarters hobknobbing with since.... well, wait, when did the U.S. Continental Army stop killing Injuns? TRICK QUESTION, NIGGER *BLAM BLAM BLAM*
It's actually like that out here. I don't know where you are, but I'm on the edge of the biggest ocean on the planet, and it's brimming with Fukushima. Believe me, we all know what that means, but I'm not planning on living on this rock in 1,500 years. I guess her cultural genome had had, like... other plans.
Yeah, well, whatever, Redskin. Look, it's not my fault. I just showed up, and it was you all who made assumptions. And that's how we are all here today:
ENDGAME.
Yeah, I don't know what it is either, but at least they can start it without me. Do I care about the intricacies of negotiating the finer diplomatic points on salmon skinning rights for indigenous people, as well as helping to select the new feathers for the old Chief's headdress? Oh, you bet your ass I am interested! Well, maybe in another five years--MAYBE. Before I even get to stand close enough to watch -or- smell.
And, that's the way they do it. And, since the way I do it is equally hard from them all to swallow: "I'm a Sourceror now, stop behaving like a cunt, or a bitch, or a person who suddenly care about salty language--you're a godddam grown-ass woman, mother of two, wife of... nevermind, and suddenly, after being relentlessly insulting on a visceral, personal level ever since (CLASSIFIED), now I have to watch my language? Why, yes, of course, that is exactly what a person who is not a bitch would do, so I will allow this ridiculous argument to burn through our available allotment of time together.
And, with The Key, you now have access to Our Knowledge. What do you mean, you don't have The Key? I thought you were... hrrrm. CITIZEN: IDENTIFY. Oh, you again. Don't worry, she'll be back in the morning and of course she's going to kill you... but I like you, Shadow. You've got Zazz."
Making my One Man Spirituality Band into something that sounds totesinsipid has worked in my favor. They would get bored even if they wanted to respect my beliefs... and, they don't. They've been instructed to be socially dismissive... as a Tribal Unit. Or at least, they all were.
Over time, hearts and minds have changed. Over time, events have unfolded as no one expected. And, most importantly, over time... well, holy shit, this girl who spent 3 years with Kuczi suddenly started calling the police on everyone and claiming wild, unbelievable stories. Stories like, "The guy I've been lying to for years is not letting me hit him without telling everyone that I did. Take him away!" And the response has been--as always--"yeah, okay. Kuczi, right? Oh, yeah... we know where to find him." *click*
The first time I had police called on me was perhaps excusable. That was in... shit, I don't remember. But let's just say, after the second time, the local constabulary is -perhaps- a bit weary of taking all the statements that a certain person has made... in the same light as before.
I didn't even call the police on the girl who bit my boob. You remember the one. And she ended up... well, calling the police on other people. After screaming her head off. My neighbors know what that has meant: some saucy vixen isn't getting what she expected out of the arrangement any longer. I wonder why that happened?
Well, one could ask me, but this time, no one had to: it was apparent. Because once the alcohol were added to the mix, it was a fuckin' tickin' fuckin' time bomb. And, did I encourage that? Oh, no.... Quite the opposite. And that, is ON RECORD.
Soon, very soon now, I will no longer be able to speak--or write--so openly. And this magnificent period of time in my life will draw to a swift and certain close. No idea when, but, it's coming... and I would simply be far, far too busy to be talking smack on The Internet... if only, I could go home. Well, I can't.
I'm waiting. I'm waiting for the new leads. I'm waiting for the Glengarry leads. And I really do not have to stop waiting at all, as I have no problem living without the amenities of the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed to. To wit:
A) Daily beatings.
B) Poisoned coffee.
C) Single-target Glass Menagerie Dodgeball--11 shows at volume 11, every week.
D) "Is that a rash or skin cancer? Uh... look, I gotta go outside."
E) You haven't seen anything but a 3rd generation clone in nearly 10 months, dummy! (Damn. Now I know she doesn't think I can remember anything, which means... she remembers that she can't.)
Removing myself from this situation--elegantly--has -undoubtedly- changed things for the best. MY BEST. As for the rest of you, well, details are sketchy. That's too bad.
This is, in fact, my Endgame for this situation. I knew it would come to this, because it always has before... right at the point of ultimate schadenfreude, I lose most interest, and start thinking of new things to do with my time.
Like, adopt cats and teach them to scalp Eagles. I would like to encourage the proliferation of Bald Eagles, any way I can, and if that's the way I can, I choose that one, {Insert_Name_of_Pokemon_Here}. Did you know? I was actually accused of stealing her fucking bald eagle feathers. Like, they mail them out, right? Each Citizen gets an allotment. I don't know if it varies, or what, or even what the fuck one does with multiple eagle feathers, but she said she was supposed to get fifteen (15) of them, and... well, I never saw them.
"Theif! Trafficker!" /facepalm. It's like the alcohol turned off the whole neocortex. It probably did.
So I'll be clear: the longer it takes me to go home and see the mess those two nincompoops made of the place, the better. There's nothing there I care about, and anyone going there to vandalize would have quite the surprise. I don't think I'll never see her again--she can have anything she thought would be useful, like, a job in Texas, or a cab at 4 am, or an excessively large integer number of mind control manuals disguised as Holy Texts.
I mean, shit, you know me, I don't judge, but... whatever hypnotic conditioning was used was really low-tech. I guess it wasn't meant to last for months, months, now YEARS, right? I was going to be suicidal or actionable or banishable or something. At least, according to early projections. In reality, I'm not even banshee-able.
I'm a grown ass man and I am not new to the exotic technologies that our modern world offers to the seeker, hidden on dusty bookshelves all over the surface of our globe. OUR GLOBE, Mr. Handsy. Now, I am as big a fan as anyone of the Flat Earth whirlygig, however, I would like to point out that I found it far less embarassing that she might have been willingly sucking your primary sex organ--kissing your ass, I mean to say--than it was to see her eating up this FE malarkey. As if it was cogent, or even relevant.
Like, I saw that shit years ago. Suddenly, I'm a loser for not wanting to listen to her tell me about what she claims you and she had to discuss. Oh. Slow, steady blinking. I know what to do about this: not worry. Not for one goddam minute. And, I have not.
Never in my wildest imaginings did I think this would go this far. I told everyone in town who pays any attention to me--it's a critical mass, believe me--that as far as I know, she left town, in the dark, without seeming at all responsible about it... and I have made a huge enough fuss just around the bystanders and looky-loos at the Target overhearing me leave polite, pointed, persnickety voicemails on The Sherriff's voicemail, that anyone bothering to speculate, probably thinks that I have something to hide, and am afraid, and that's why I won't go home.
I mean, she's gone, right? Should be free to return, n'est-ce pas? Well, that's where everyone is wrong, Kiddos. For one thing, there ain't no such thing as a free landslide. Except for that one time in Bellevue. Damn, that looked expensive.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, so, check it out: one false move, and I go to jail for a minimum of 364 days. No appeal. No bond. No mercy. That's how they do it in Washington State... and believe me, I knew this. I knew it before I met her.
And while I do not deem it likely, the fact is: I do not even want to go there. I don't know where I would most want to go, but only because I don't have GPS co-ordinates. I do know where I would like to be. And, so do others believe they think.
In reality, no one knows where I want to go, because it hasn't been decided yet, and it hasn't been decided yet, because... well, I'm uncertain if I need to change my name and flee, keep my name and file restraining orders, or just play tummysticks with her brother and her husband and her other husband her formerly-secret-boyfriend (Like, I already knew, but I wasn't supposed to be ACTUALLY REMOTE VIEWING, herp derp) and let them take turns pegging me while she watches and giggles.
(Like, I bet they all had to do that for her. What makes me so special? Besides the functional neo-cortex, honestly, not so much. Immune to most of their magicks. Don't wish to steal any of them. They can't believe. How can the white man live without stealing? He has no children. He must be a demon. Diminish his power! PACK AWAY THE SMOKED SALMON AAAAHHHH!)
I'm really not exaggerating by much. Until the liquor and the hexing started getting thrown, it was not bad at all, in anyway. Three years of "not bad at all." Wasn't -great- either, mind you, but now that I know why: totesexcused. Not even mad. What an adventure! Glad I didn't smash my face into a brick wall, sorry about... uh... no, not sorry "I take responsibility," more like, "I am politely expressing remorse that I was not able to stop you from embarrassing yourself... in the hopes that I will not have to ever teach any of you that way."
Now, until others change my circumstance, I am on fuckin' lockdown, I have nothing to do, no one to make plans with, and no interest in revealing the innermost workings of my mind and lifestyle to a bunch of pudgy nerds assigned to monitor me for the next five weeks. Oh, they're done with the thuggery: people have been given vacations. Not my business to know, but let's just say, I can put my ear to the ground.
Things have changed. I want to go home, and disappear, and... well, I am supposed to be here to be scapegoated, so they better not help me leave at all. In fact, they better encourage me to stay and hemorrhage money in town for as long as possible. So my stolen booty can be tracked down!
She wasn't stolen. She disqualified herself. Anyway, whatever, after the attempted bribes starting coming out, I knew it was just a matter of time. I had no idea it was gonna be an entire season spent 3.5 miles away while shadowy, cowardly figures harassed Grapefruit, but, I can only imagine that everyone is very happy that at least, I am not the one doing it, because obviously I had to be the worst possible experience possible for everyone, and she wasn't really in any position to stand up for herself, right? Gosh, I wonder who spent FOURTEEN MONTHS gradually eroding all her self-confidence?
Not me, there was nothing gradual about turning off my penis and watching closely to see what happened to any nearby sex addicts. Like a light switch. "I know why this happened! It's because you're stealing my Propecia prescription!" Nope, not that either. How hard would it have been? "Hey, we should talk about this 33 page manuscript you wrote and sent to all of my burner phone numbers that I've had in the last 4 years... why do you even have those still? They're supposed to be burnt, and you shouldn't really be texting me anyway, my husband and the guy my sister tried to manipulate and this guy who has been creeping on me for 20 years are getting nervous because they think you're upset with them for the callous disrespect they obviously show me by pretending they don't exist and can ignore me like they would an infestation of benign, yet judged-as-vile beetles."
Like seriously--this was supposed to inspire me to demonstrate a skill set, I think. A strange, dysfunctional example of a wildly persecuted people. It's better now. They've been... I don't want to say "humbled," so I'll say this:
All involved have been chastised. They have been chastised most harshly.
Not my Company. Not my policy. If it were me, you know what I would have done? Well... not fucking gone, lol. What was that all about, anyway? Let me guess, is it not my business? Ooooh! Oooh! Now, that's stimulating.
Next up: the letter I wrote while in jail over Christmas. It is -beyond- awesome. I would scan it and post it now--for you, Bellgab, not for anyone I am not supposed to contact, like I give a shit, amirite?--but I don't have my scanner here, and, it can wait, it honestly can. Upcoming hazards include:
#1) Obstruction of justice.
#2) Harassment charges.
#3) Manufactured evidence leading to frame-up.
#4) I vanish from their lives forever and my name still keeps coming up, over and over, at every holiday gathering, at every family meal, at every late-night truck-stop impromptu gathering, Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack.
#5) They get forcibly located to Texas.
#6) I continue to embarrass myself and no normal person ever tolerates me ever again. Hang on, I am gonna sit down and think this one over. Fortunately I am not required to be here. I can just leave now.
Imagine how happy Stellar would be. Worth it just for that. I should start force feeding bleach up my ass right away! The show must go on.
I can't think of any other problems I might be leery of now. I love Court, can't wait to spill my guts, and of course won't get a chance to, because on my birthday, I'll get a call from some stranger, "Hey, Do you know (PROT) (P.) (PROT)? Yeah, says you used to be emergency contact. Anyway, they're all dead. One of them flipped out, killed them all, then himself. No, I won't tell you who, you're not even family, Loser." *click*
It's been done that way before, and here is the true horror, a Nice Little Fact that E.A. Poe could have taken to the bank: I don't even care if that actually were to happen or not. Sounds like a relief. I'm emotionally numbed since the -real- person I know has already been sent back to Base. Portal. Shut up, I don't care if you think that's a nutty idea. No one would -actually- die, they'd just move three blocks over and two blocks up and slap a new coat of paint on the carved statue of Geronimo outside the Piggly-Wiggly. I don't remember how to get there, no one there would fail to remember to steer me wrong, and, well, that's it: everything is back to normal. #Peace!
Nuttier idea: Forgetting Wednesday in context of Valentine's Day. Like, how are these magickal energetic imbalances not instantly noted by those of you involved? Oh, right, because you're fuckin' plebs. Massive rolleyes.
(True condition of my reality: every Valentine's Day since COVID has been better and better for me, and I don't know why I am supposed to be yearning for an outcome that any of you could imagine. I already achieved milestone objectives in this situation I didn't even know I had. So, why do I have a mailbox and a phone filled with coercive threats to scare me into a position of obscurity? I don't think you've thought this through.
But, I have. Do please have fun storming the castle. By the way, I saw your wife disappear into a portal. Looks really cool from the other angle, honestly--to me it doesn't look like anything at all; when I go through it, it's behind me already, and it doesn't even tingle. But, now I know how it actually looks. And I owe it all to you and your adorable Family.
Now, that's gratitude.)
So, that's why, I'm sitting here in this motel, and telling everyone who stops and stands still long enough to listen, that I live here, I'm new in town, and I can't go home, because I am traumatized by The Sheriff's thuggy little piggies that someone busted out of the slops pen, got into the wardrobe closet, and gleefully embarassed the shit out of themselves and everyone who fell for this bullshit story hook, line, and sinker... it was apparently quite a number of folk with egg on their face, actually.
And, in the next county to the south--let me guess, she has Friends there too, /massiver rollereyers, there's some kind of scandal with two city council- members in hot water for cyberstalking, death threats, and there is, of course, an Emergency No Contact order. What's it all about? No idea. What's the relevance? Well, it happened after (FELONY #(UN_KNOWN)) and before I triggered A TOWER, B NICE, C me being smarter than all of you combined in my demonstration of tactical synergy.
So, it's probably the same damn thing and I am likely really grateful that I don't know what happened. Honestly, I do not want to embarrass anyone. I mean, really, who would?
Happy Fifth Thanksgiving, everyone! Sorry I didn't make this into a podcast, because I can assure you, I would have loved to, but there actually is a history in the family of baller badass alpha males just being their badass selves and giving ol' Grannies an actual conniption fit, which is what they used to call "a stroke," oh, and, speaking of which, well, I don't know what kind of terms those two nincompoops are coming to, but I know that I sure wasn't consulted.
And, I don't need to be consulted. My team of legal beagles is beyond competent. I didn't even pick them. They were sent to me. They fell out of the sky, landed flat on their faces, then immediately stood up, picked up conveniently stored 2x4 pieces of lumber, and set about to beating the shit out of each other with them, and when I saw that, I knew that my future safety was totes assured.
Just kidding. It was when I saw the cat disappear, right on schedule, and I knew in an instant, that I didn't care if the cat and its pet had moved away, or, had been killed in revenge by someone. I still don't know. Does she have a cat still? No idea. I mean, I would prefer that Kitty is okay. However, it's possible she killed herself out of grief, because she lost me and she watched me get assaulted and hauled away by armed thugs. On Christmas.
Who knows. Maybe they shot the goddam cat right in front of her. "Don't tell him anything about (blank,) Bitch!" Door slams. Cheerleader bursts into actual tears. Did that happen? I have no idea. I know I just made that up, that whole description... but I do know that when the tracker died, I instantly knew that I had no idea, no way to find out, and only a vile and putrid, master manipulator of emotions, would arrange to do that right before Valentine's Day, deliberately send a clandestine thug with tits to make a fake troll call on that day, and then would call the next day, boasting about some -utterly- fanciful notions... And by that point, I didn't know what was real, what could be real, or have any way of finding out which was which.
I think this kind of thing can push a weakened or diseased mind right over the edge. In my case, however: flattered. Wow, what a lot of trouble... to make me feel... "bad"? Jesus, way to make me feel like I dodged a bullet. Am I concerned? Why, this is a cop job now. That's what she called them for, right? Okay, well, I am glad she's safer now.
I do hope her cat wasn't murdered by the guy who called me three days later and claimed that he had... oh, never mind. Look, the point is, whatever the truth is, I'm okay with it, one or both of your are -beyond- pathetic, and I look forward to the debrief, oh, basically... not at all. Because even if I could go home--and I can, and risk instant arrest, and free rent for a year? Yes please... no wait. I'm not an emotional, physical, and parental cripple.
I can come and go as I please. And so, it would seem, can the guy who I was told was a real problem for you. Well, I am sure that everyone is working out much better without me around. Why would I want to change anything now? Once I figure out how to talk to a counselour without seeming manic or crude--because, really, how am I not to laugh? It would take a shot in the dark--I will look forward to resuming my forward motion in life.
Meawnhile: little pitchers with big ears know everything there is to know about Blue Horseshoe... and I don't care if they do. It was your area to care for, not mine.
The shape of the endgame to come was always one that completed my role in the cycle. Ask yourself, do I look like someone interested in escaping into a fantasy world and staying there for all Eternity? Perhaps, but that's just because I already did that.
David, you asked me once, "What is her endgame here? Why is she doing this?" and I will tell you this: I still don't know. And I wrote that same question while locked in a cell for three days over Christmas.
But I told you what mine was, and I think you would openly agree if you could: I have achieved it. Now, if you will excuse me, I must think up new and utterly valid ways to avoid giving the impression that I am trying to "contact" anyone, because I am not... I fully expect that she will not be allowed to read a single word I write until her handlers are informed otherwise.
And if she does, well, so what, she and I are both innocent. That's completely on record. I mean, damn... is her cat really dead and gone? Well, she is to me, anyway, and truth be completely told... I may not really wish or need to ever see any of them ever again, let alone, even be afforded the opportunity to. Even if: good news! Kitty is safe and sound! Well, someone still sure wanted me to feel bad on those days. And, I did.
I don't remember why. Oh, right: we could have had much, much more fun being productive rather than CIRCLING YOUR WAGONS, AAHHH.
Not that I think it is that bad, but, well, I guess it might be. Like, this all goes way, way farther deeper and more back in time than most people would care to consider. For example: who the fuck is Hilly Rose, and how the shit does someone who imagines they will ever be taken seriously, not instantly know the name "Juanita Broaddrick"? The mind reels beneath the weight of this absurdity.
So that's where I am at. How there has not yet been a gag order, a legit Cease & Desist, or a heartfelt apology and an earnest statement of true commitment to start doing things differently is completely beyond me at this point. Like, what, am I supposed to be fearful of hurting her feelings by writing to much? As long as I go nowhere near her: I'm good. And I would rather drown myself in the toilet than step foot over there, ever again. I would rather maintain telepathic connections with other entities that do not hide behind... well, I'll just say no more.
I hope rummaging through my belongings without my presence to distract her was as much fun for her, as it was fun for you to talk about Flat Earth without my presence also distracting you. The place means even less to me now than it did on Day Two, and whatever monetary value I have lost, or sentimental/nostalgic items have been broken--shatttered--or pilfered, means less than zero in the face of what I have gained.
Closure. But no cigar. Now, I can just do all the things that I was going to do before COVID hit... without a psyop strike team helicopter parenting. Great!
Now, let me know when you get that thing with Marshalek and the email sorted out. Truth be told: I don't need to see that email. It is a matter of mild curiosity to me. That's it. And now that you've rescued your MAN_DOWN, I am sure things will be getting better and better for you forever. What else could stop you? I am certainly not asking for more.
Watching you sweat these last few weeks has been immensely gratifying. I can see why telling me any of it would not have been helpful. Well, great, carry on, certainly it is helpful to me to not have to answer the phone all the time. Or to be fearful of it ringing. Does it even ring? Why would it? Oh, right, all the spam daemons that I use on my phone to keep out the riffrafff and to bring me chatter. It's complicated. It's not military. I have style. You wouldn't understand without feeling inadequate. It's okay. I mean, you're only 5'-something-or-other... just like her.
(I am looking forward to finding out, ultimately, which of us owe her more money.)
I may even end up hiring a company to pack everything and ship it to me after I blindly drive... anywhere. I am free now, to direct the movie, to re-write all the parts yet to come in this lifetime movie about Yours Truly. I would have and likely could have been gone halfway out of January. Now, I am still here. Roaming through town like Pennywise on Wellbutrin and 4-way, sharing the story of how Them Judges sure now how to decide things, ayep. And, it's SPRING. Hello, McFly? Look what you've done--I'm a cantaloupe, and I feel fine. What are the trials going to be like? I can't wait to tell the truth. Do I even need to be there? I suppose it would look funny if neither she nor I bothered to grant them any... audience.
She is -never- going to forget that I was correct, and she was beyond busted. The third time must be the charm. And now at last... I really don't want to know what goes on much farther than that, because I researched immunity to chemical compulsions quite early in life... I didn't simply succumb, succeed, or suck eggs to them.
It is difficult to imagine that anyone is being punished here besides the people I don't like--a short list. Also, with The Struggle for Primacy laid to rest---no more jockeying for position, what a relief, Jesus, women are mean--I have reached a new era of peace and tranquility, with only one fly in the ointment, which is that I can't use my library but I still have to pay rent, thus reducing the resources left available to build Grapefruit an outdoor gazebo with a hottub.
I think she has that already at one of her third cousin's ex-boyfriend's college roommates massage therapist, anyway--I think they use Etsy together? Who knows. I don't. Or care. Do what you do, it's bound to work out better from now on. Just think how proud you will feel when everyone you are allowed to associate with in your new digs congratulates you for getting away from such a dolt of absurdly low character... such as myself.
p.s.: (PROT), I told you not to (blank) my (blank). Letting her do it to herself while you thought to capitalize later counts, Comm-Rag. You know you were -both- manipulated by demons, right? Well, now you know that can happen--and they weren't mine. Thanks, tell your friends.
p.p.s.: #Fealty
p.p.p.s.: Your timetable... my benefit. Kudos.
P.P.P.P.S.: I decided against making this look like it was written by anyone but an abject retard, mainly because I would like there to be some question in the minds of future historians whether or not it was the two of you writing this to impersonate me or not. By the way, I think I know who collaborated on the police report, but of course, I am not offering to share that intel with you, or anyone.
I mean, come on... how do I even know that any police reports even existed? I literally never saw one. NOT ONE. Instead: facsimiles.
So, there you go. Winter has come and gone, and all I lost was a little bitty bit of my 2nd right toe. It turned black and fell off.
You should trademark that. *click*
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Soon, very soon now, I will no longer be able to speak--or write--so openly.
Freedom: It's no small thing. Neither is getting drawn and quartered. Fuck that, Scotland: you and the sheep are on your own.
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"Jack is bad for you! He must go!"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNfocDNZWY8
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(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/68/8e/cb/688ecbb2738578a75a129f6bfdc58e0f.gif)
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(https://i.imgflip.com/6c8s0f.jpg)
Do these spooky thuggy pants make my ass look fat? I'm not asking for a friend. I need to know this information, goddam it — and I need to know it now.
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Colleagues, please: stop teasing both (2) of my trophy wives.
I know, right? The best part is, they're not even married to each other. They're not even married at all! They are wives, and I took them, as trophies. (Big sin. Bad flex.)
I'll stencil my initials on their bellies, later. Sexual domination, finding myself having to convince anyone of anything without being high as balls and/or paid C.O.D., and leaving any trail of evidence any time, any when, any where, and certainly any whatsoever are Sirius non-starters for me. K?
But yeah, rather than turning him into a toad I turned him into a wife and then... took him. Rawr. Where did I take him? You might ask?
Personally? I wouldn't.
Do these spooky thuggy pants make my ass look fat? I'm not asking for a friend. I need to know this information, goddam it — and I need to know it now.
Hey, does this {IMAGE_REDACTED:a_power_tool} make me look civilly & criminally liable? I'm not asking for a lawyer.
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Open more doorways. Kiss my ass. Lick my taint. Fuck right off. YOU ARE DONE.
[...]
You will always have Ballgrab. I own these bad bitches from top to bottom (you may address me as Whoremonger Sourceror Roberts): they can't ignore the forking of my techno.
I towed you, so... here we are at the glue factory. Get out. Money talks. Trophies walk.
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Now, until others change my circumstance, I am on fuckin' lockdown, I have nothing to do, no one to make plans with, and no interest in revealing the innermost workings of my mind and lifestyle to a bunch of pudgy nerds assigned to monitor me for the next (INTEGER:(X)) weeks.
Mood is improving.
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a bunch of pudgy nerds
One (1) nerd only, Tubby VASILY.
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I'm sitting here in this motel, and telling everyone who stops and stands still long enough to listen, that I live here, I'm new in town, and I can't go home, because I am traumatized by The Sheriff's thuggy little piggies that someone busted out of the slops pen, got into the wardrobe closet, and gleefully embarassed the shit out of themselves and everyone who fell for this bullshit story hook, line, and sinker...
(https://i.imgur.com/qSXo36l.jpg)
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If I told any of you how long it _actually_ took before anyone _actually_ started _openly_ complaining about my choice of diminutive, why... that'd result in a security breach. Sorry. Especially if I said who it was.
No can do. Ooooh ooh-oh oh-ooh ooooooooooooo toteseewwwsickgrossburn
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... _..._ ..._..._..._..._ ...
(https://checkpointech.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Huff-and-Puff-and-Blow-All-Your-Worries-Away.png)
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big bad wolf CARTOON
I am the real bad wolf. Had a brick house to start with. Now, I have a castle on a hill. Blow away, Baby.
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Buoyed by a genuinely inspiring sentiment ...
This place is a hub, a meeting place, for serious writers, outsider artists, shamans, pariahs, witches, wizards, sorcerers...
Until this gimcrack heirophant spilled the beans ...
Hi I'm Jack star have you fucking met me I'm winking with the tip my penis right now. I'm a sorcerer.
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Buoyed by a genuinely inspiring sentiment ...
Until this gimcrack heirophant spilled the beans ...
Yeah, I'm not cool at all compared to before or anything. I am, of course, terrifically despondent within myself. Oy oof da vey!
Meanwhile: I see the glamour and the sourcery are combining fabulously. I bet you don't see what I see, as you are probably not looking for what I have been seeking. Do you even know what that is? or just.. assumed? Tell you what. Hold that thought.
I'll just cut to the chase: I don't know what's going on, but I am seeing a little bit of the things that I need to see happen. This is impressive, considering she called the police on herself while I begged her to stop and explain. So, I'm a great actor, or, I really didn't know.
I've figured things out by now. Many things. Gosh, no wonder I was viewed with suspicious fervor.
I wonder who counted on that? Well, probably just some itinerant vagrant. Just one of those things. Cruel world.
Now, I could explain a lot further, but, I do not wish to. That was before, that was another purpose.
I don't even want to be here anymore. And yet! Here I find myself!
So, I'm uncertain what I want to do next. I'll think it over, real slow-like. What did you have to suggest, anything? Oh, right. "Stop talking about that," even though, I actually didn't bring it up, and, you know what? I'd rather talk about me, but, I'm out on Bond.
Jail Bond. I guess I should keep a few things under my lid. /shrug Why not, right?
#1, it's a good idea, #2, I don't know what's going on, and #3, I don't wish to make anything worse.
For me.
Anyway, I don't know what their endgame was, but I know what mine is: never give up, never surrender. I don't need a big house without peole aorund. Stupid house. Dumb people. What was I even thinking? Oh, I remember... nothing good, believe me. Things are awesome now!
For me. Now, I'd ask around, however... you know, it just seems like my leprousy is flaring up again. Drat. I should just stay home from karaoke forever. Look, I'm looking for options, People.
Anyone wanna pull a knife on me? I wanna know if I'm knifeshy permanent, or it was just her. (I think we all know the answer.) Hey, would it be easier if I just put myself frozen into carbonite long enoguh for all the loose ends to be gotten rid of? I feel like I'm in someone's way about.
tl;dr I had an endgame, and it turned out they had one too. So now, once again, I am uncertain what I want to do next, besides, never get involved in a land war in Asia.
I can just wait. Honestly, my heart goes out to all of you. And my heart will go on.
Oh, wait. That's the captagon. I forgot. I'm junkie! I'm a junkie! Caw! Caw! Ack! Ack! There, how's that one?
Well, it's not over yet, must be my fault. What a delightful year this is cracking up to be. I don't have to do anything besides... oh, never mind, I won't reveal that. Let's just say, this challenge has rules.
For them too this time. Cool, huh? Yeah, they don't think so. Evidently, I am thought to be a real asshole. /shrug. Couldn't tell you.
So, yeah, attachment neutralized. Sure, that's bound to help. I'm cool with that. Especially with having it forced on me, on record.
We are all learning a great lesson, and I hope that part never ends. For me. The rest of you, seem to be having too much of something you don't like. Well, take it up with them, this isn't my perferred way to spend my time.
And I could have been out of here long ago. Once again: they are your culprits.
So, anyone wanna go... oh, yeah, don't do that. It's okay.
I don't have any preferred outcomes here. i am a leaf upon the wind, and I am already pierced through my heart and have long since expired. I don't mind what happened. I would be happy to tell the truth.
Except I am afraid they'll just beat me up or something. It's al ltoo much effort. Can't I just be freed? Oh, right, key witness, crux event... okay, well, that's my endgame now.
Her endgame, well, why don't you ask her? I never paid attention because once I caught her lying to me about what she lied to me about, she became just another fucked off civilian, can't resemble the real one any less in any way at all.
So of course, she tried to help me in every way she could before succumbing to dopeslavery. Well, no, not really. You'll have to ask her about it.
I don't want to embarass anyone "directly." I really don't. (It is pretty funny, what's happening, btw. Not to some, but, once again, it sure was fun to see me apparently suffer. Well, develop that idea.) I want to kick back and relax and get my smoke on, and my drink on, and maybe do a little gambling... and watch people embarass themselves.
Alternately I could have sex with whores and work at Burger King. While keeping quite about I'm not sure what, but, well, it's a hot mess.
And it's aweosme. WOOOOOOOOOOOO
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spilled the beans ...
I didn't even know you had beans, she was working with you all along, she wanted me to buy her car somehow (Hi! It's our second date! Wanna buy this hot (tee-hee) car!), and it's not like I didn't see these things, it was that I wished to see where they led.
Boy howdy! Glad I did. Anyway, your belief is erroneous. No beans have been spilt. What you think you had going on anyway isn't even the case.
Everything changed a week ago and the twerps amongst you are so focused on yourselves you don't' seem to notice, that I was always focused on everyone. That also changed recently.
Now, I don't know what changed for others, but I know that I was once very confused. I am now, not so very confused. Like something flipped. People elsewhere are becoming puzzled. People don't seem to feel good about it. Wow. I wonder how they felt about my first podcast launch getting hijjacked? Their feelings aren't relevant at this juncture.
The big news is that it has been established, I am the primary target, she was harrassed in order to weaken whatever bond we had, because, whatever was going on before, I guess she thought it would be cool to run around getting blasted without me for the longest time after lying to me. Nope, that's not how it works. Now, she might have deserved whatever she got, because shes a legit Injun, and if she doesn't know by now how to take care of her shit, well, I'm not here to give her a shin splint.
She never cheated on me, because it wasn't like she agreed to tell me when she had formed another sexual bond, it just seemed implict to me that is what a person would, you know, do. Then, as time went on, and she began to feel played, she began to hate me for not keeping her safe from being played.
This is all textbook shit. Well, now she's going to deal with that. How am I supposed to be devastasted? I don't know why you thought I fell for all of it, and when it became obvious her "friends" weren't down with me, well, what a surprise, I wasn't down with them.
Long story short, she was manipulated into working against me and other than exposing themselves and embarassing her, thanks for the practice. Oh, and look at something she dind't mention. She took the jewels, she took the guns, she took the game consoles (a mssage right there) and she had to do it in a hurry because she got displaced in a hurry. And the reason why is that she failed to help, mate. Boot.
Next up, oh look, an emergency interception, because no ne knew when i was gonna feel like finding a partner again. I mean, like, now, sure. Except, World War 3, triangulation, and as soon as I mabye got one, oh look, someone is slandering her.
And then some. So, now that it has been established that I'm the target of an ongoing pattern of harrassement, well, if I have to -report- that, well, that's fine with me, given that he';s only harassing me because he doesn't know what else to do, I've taken away the only thing that ever will matter between him and I... in that, he had ample time to prepare, he rolled in with a lie, and claimed to want exclusitivity on love, while telling me he was alone. So then, he gets that right? And then... awsw. He's still not happy.
He blames me. I ruined his wimmins. I don't need to put my penis in them, I just need to wake them up from hypnosleep. This guy, he's gotta exercise control. Me, I gotta find a reason to exercise. What? Do I need to impress shallow Hal?
I'm good. I don't know what is totaly going on, but I do know that this guy has two, I have zero, and he was still coming down on me. Okay, hold on. Motive? Also, I can squash this guy like a bug, I don't give a shit if he's the goddamn Commander of fucking Jerusalem in the sky, fuck with the bull, he got the horns.
So, where we at? Oh yeah, under the microscope. I'm gonna mind my own business, and be nice, and wait and see. Because I have no need to make sudden moves. I actually know how this all works. With her, however, there was lots and lots of interference. And, she had accidentally lied to me a lot.
She told me her friends who thought I was cute, were her friends that kept pesting her for 3way group sex and she wasnt comfortale with that. Turns out, truth is, she didn't want me to find out certain things. So anyway, she tells me this, and so I duitfully become repellent to these two in particular.
I am not thanked. My behavior is noted. Fast forward, I've done them all a huge favor, because, yeah, I bet that would have been great, until the Shadow Dragon Hydra presented itself, and I am glad I was not deeply in the pussy zone when that thing showed up.
Additionally, I didn't want multiple partner sex. I said this openly, I was never believed. She couldn't imagine that was not an enticement. Well, it might have been, if... she had perhaps actually told the truth to me from time to time. Clearly, she could tell it to others.
Now, I wasn't told anything after Christmas as I think it was hoped that something could be salavaged for Team Thug Lunch Money Give It Loser. Well, it's just gotten worse for them. For one thing, take my house: please. For another, they werent' protecting me, and I was abused and assaulted. It was a fucking robbery, multiple actors in on it, it's a huge mess. Am I mad? Oh Hell no.
I guess I was right about something, huh? Maybe I was wise to be cautious? How many times did she call me an asshole can I get $200 a day? hahahah well, no, see, I am a man. That's not my area.
Also, I never expected money out of the deal, I expected a big blowout if she continued to abuse myself and her ancestors' power. Oh my yes. She was surprised to learn I could hear the same things she could. She couldnt' tell if I were faking, or lying, or exaggerting, or... she was confused, because I actually loved her for who she is. Whatever that might have been.
A gypsy house thief? Well, The_Kingpinner was there. A Kodak moment. Then, I give her 11 weeks... and nothing worthwhile happens.
That's it. She gone. She doesn't even realize, because I do like her a lot, it's not like I think she's anyhting but brainwashed. Who cares?
She'l wake up and do something. I don't care. I didn't come here to conquer and exploit. I came.. because I got fed up of waiting for someone legit to figure out what to do. (no oxygen at that point). I went to the girl tree, gave it a shake, look what came tumbling out.
A Bellgab troll. No, wait, no, of course not. "I have never heard of Bellgab. Sure, I can help you put things up your butt." She was grinning the grin of the sly. I marked her down for, "potentially recalcitrant." And, here we are.
Are you beginning to get the picture? I don't even mind, you. And I knew nothing of whatever, and still don't. Y'all just assume she was involved like you thought. Hah! I had a plan.
then you all fucked it all up. Okay, cool. Let's reset. Here we are. Now, tell me about The Great Work again? Oh, right,I don't get news tips. I don't get helpful links. I get tossed as waste chaff. Interesting.
That tends to happen when people realize I was right all along and they've been watched by people silently noticeing that they aren't doing things the right way. Now, I don't see that often, but so far, what happens is that people feel lke they hgave beenb outsmarted. They feel dumb. Then, they band together and kill the smartest person in the tribe so the rest don't get their little feelings hurt.
Yeah, well, okay. Look, life is a pretty complex deal. I don't pretend I know all of it. And so when a group of people exhort me to behave as they direct and they already had a chance to do that, I think that's flattering. Like this time. Oh, she's never heard of Bellgab, but, hashtags and flat earth. Oh, and, discussions with metron, doesnt' tell me over what, small, dupey smile, and I knew she would get info I didn't have ... and when she chose to exclude me from her intelligence network, I knew what was gonna happen:
She was gonna exploded like a laffy taffy bomb where no one laughs and I was gonna be relatively unscathed. Like, excuse me? Oh, right, she thought I was lying to her. She couldn't imagine I did'n't know anyone else. "Who is this person? Who is that person?" She was fucking obsesssesd.
Huh. Well, I know the feeling. Meanwhile, can you hlep me find... NO. Oh no. She had specific beliefs about how things shoudl go down.
So, that ran for about as long as it could, and then it was back and forth to the races. Everything had to be just so. I would be to blame. She gets the house and everything. My annoying friend who showed up to be even more annoying had to be dealt with. details details.
Then I make one small change to an obviously well-discussed plan, and suddenly it's kerflooey. Imagine that. Behold the power of Wisconsin cheese when I use nanotech. She was instantly suspicious. Well yeah, she's an Algonquin Jew, she was already planning on taxing me to death and conssuming the corpse. It is what this culture does.
And I knew that just from the cheekbones, yo. Hansel & Gretel got nothign on me, lets' roll, I wanna know what magicks I'm gonna watch... and how she's going to keep from teaching me anything. Because I knew the rules, and of course so did she, she had one of her thug dicks writing them for her 1,000 years ago.
So, it was a great time. I conqurered her genome. I got out free. There's still an investigation, but that works to my advantage. Their former structure was dysfunctional, but at least it exists. What they got now? UHm. Well, #1) I don't care. #2) I need nothing from them. #3) I don't need to score or go through or keep nicey nice, or anything. Everyone knows what happened. 5 years and she calls police on Chrismtas Eve, huh? Oh, yeah, the pacificst kilt-wearing guy planned that. With his secret black masonic team. Jesus.
Truth is I probably deserve a merit badge but let's not get distracted by bullshit here. The headline is, yeah, whatever happened... uhm, she thought she was gonna like it, and she didn't. Big time. And then... she continued to not like it, and I guees, was told to implicate me. How did that work out?
I guess we'll see. For the time being, I feel okay. I am kinda weirded out by recent discoveries, but, look, I don't need to get mad, or even. I just need to respond to calls. Well, right now I have two, and I'm happy to wait until I know how to answer the second, because, guess what? I was ready to bail, then someone said they hoped I would stay. Why not? I wanted to see what would happen anyway.
It's been the greatest adventure of my life, and it's barely begun. So, what now, there's some kind of security problem? Oh, well, I'm sure it's very important, and if it was not on your radar that this was slated to occur, someone was not telling you the truth.
Like, do you... APPRECIATE WHAT A FUCKING GIFT THIS IS, I AM EXPLAINING IT ALL OUT. That doesnt' work good for those who want to coverup their own malfesasance with my spooky reputation, but I'll tell you, when I heard that... well, tell you what, never mind. Long story short, everyone fucking knows what happened, and the next four months, dudes from fuckin' orbit are going to be looking at these tardmonkeys. Not my preference, but it might be critically mandatory.
When the response to me is that of a crankly, petulant 11yo, I know I am in the zone. This is a rescue op! And now, as is my right... I tell the most valuable to start helping the others so they'll think she's useful, and if that doesn't enlighten me as to what is going on around here, anything else will too. Because I didn't ask for any of this. I just got bored when I heard the first bell and lept for new space.
That all this was going around me was testament to my willingness to live and let live. Then, I started getting bossed around. And they were confused about who I kknew, and they didn't belive me. Hey, thanks. Hrmm. Hey, wait a minute.
Oh, no wonder everyone hates me. I can imagine how no one wished to upset the delicate balance of power. Neither did I, and I had no reason to... until she declined to embrace the notion of being civil. For a beverage.
I would have asked her out at one time. Then, she fell out of favor. And didn't even notice. Now, that's some arrogance. Anyway, it was a great learning expereince, and I don't know what more happened, but when I find someone hostile to me about it, I cannot help but thing, "simple post hypnotic suggestion," and apparently she didn't think that could happen?
He could have fucked her blue at that point, I just didn't like the idea of her being murdered and leaving me to blame. Now, I know what you rememver that cowboy hat wearing pard in the same state said, it was something like, "I'm gonna rape your mouth and Rubini will get the back for a Texas Two-Fer," and we laughed because not funny, I laughed because I would love to see how that would go, and he laughed because he thought he was gonna get a prize for Christmas, but no, no no, not really, not at all.
I don't want antyting to do with what is obviously an interior matter. They can deal with it while I learn about what was hidden from me, and why. And I can laugh forevermore, because, why hide things from me? Am I important? Not to them, I suppose.
And I never will be. Awwwww. Meanwhile, I can move up the later, I can go talk to Nathan, I can't hardly wait, but why boast? It's really sad for some people. Embarassing too. On the other hand, well, look, I handed it, right?
So I guess she probably should not have excluded me. Well, I'm gone now. And as fate would have it, I am excluded in the perfect place, at the perfect time.
I would love to know who I am meant to be six feet away from now. He was so demanding before. Now, like a ghost, poof, he's gone.
He'll never be able to make a threat beleivable in my prsence, ever again. I like that. Meanwhile, "I will always have Ballgrab," well, I knew then she was getting played. Did I lift a finger? Hell no.
Well, now I know why. LOL. Just think of the time we could have all saved. oh but no. Jackstar, here is the dark: meet the mushrooms.
it was only a matter of time before totes shutdown and she never told me a fucking thing, and it wasn't until 03/03 that my thoughts went that way, and I still don't know any legit action, which is, in fact, how it should be.
So, that should have been enough t oget someone's attention, and since I jumped the gun on when to look--I was patient for a year, assuming she wasn't flatly lying. Oh look. So without the mystery of maybe/maybe not, those on the edge of paranoia have lost their minds.
That's kinda what years of chronic hiding such potency will do. My dad hid his drug use. From me! I guess I am stupid. Naturally, he balmed me. Right. i'm the one who made cannabis illegal. Oh, and I found out more about Reefer Madness.
So, I'm good. Why did I have to go to jail and almost lose the house? Eh, trial by fire. It wasn't so bad, I was just sad no one could help her, aparently. Maybe she should have told me the truth instead of some guys who trafficked her? Well, whatever.
She watched me and she knew exactly when I pivoted and moved forward. Well, if it didn't make her jealous, good, breacuse I don't seek that out, however, someone will care about her emotions, probably. I used to. I could if I had time. Right now I'm busy, however, explaining things to my future counselors. I can hardly wait.
I'm being cautious. I don't wanna get 2 famous. It might be too late. And so that's the context with some kind of weird ordering thing going on. Well, this is going to take some time to figure out so I just won't wrorry about it, because I never needed to have territorial claiming rights. That was someone else.
Also, if I did get bred, it was because they hired a hooker for a 15.5 kid. Good luck getting child support for that one. And if breeding virgin seed mattered, probably someone shouldn't have deliberately played an emabarassing tape, and then said, "ooh! an acceidnet!" and pretended that was okay. it was not okay.
anyway, sorry to disppoint anyone, but look at the brightside, this way is loads better, and eventully, it can probvalby be discussed.
Simillarly, the notion that I put up her photos... uhm, what? I didn't do anything besides watch and learn. I didn't have any reason to sabotage her. She just thought I did. Even now, no reason to sabotage anything. I mean, come on.
I can just ask Jesus to sabotage. Fuck yeah, he'll do it, he's a burner bee. He'd probably marry me to someone too, if I actually wanted that.
What I want now is wildly different. Already, I can have conversations that I didn't know what to say about. "Hey, guess what happened when I tried to talk to someone? They totally blew me off! Yeha, they bought all the bad press I arranged to get." For serious. Like I should want to maintain a spotless rep? Well, not really.
now, notice that there was a nice lovely interval after her vanishing and me suddnely changing migratory habits. Within minutes it's an air raid siren. That's really all I need.
I had forgotten, and then I was brought up, and then I rememembered. I am clear about this. And yet... somehow, due dilegence escapes thine grasp. Oh, well, okay, as long as we both have integrity.
This isn't actually Zugzwang. Your position gets better no matter what you choose. I am not even on this level of reality--I translated t hyperspace. So, I should stop talking about... what? oh wait, that was someone else.
long story short, there's gonna be an adjustment period. For me it was an eyeblink. Now I'm onto this angle. Her family is probably arguing whether to go for restraining ordrers or to try and file for child support but the reality is that they should probably recognize that they got single-handedly shut down by one guy who was bored.
It could have been done faster. Now, at this point, I am okay, but sometime someday, the topic will come up. How shall I prepare? Because default setting is to laugh at the irony. Like seriously, I asked her. So... group call, or she just decided to dominate my path through treachery?
I don't need to know, but that's the important kind of stuff that matters someplace to someone. I am not a trained investigator and I don't think I would wish to directly help on this one, but considering what happened I see no problem with writing a lot of text.
in puvblic, not private, and I"m not lying: whatever was going on here, I was not privy. I was of course not believed.
Sounds good to me! Also, I can actually talk., I could before, but you only wanted to talk about how to make yourself feel better about what someone didn't wish to acknoweldge happening.
Yeah, i m sure it was tough, did you get two duis and a broken thumb ? Don't answer that. Bottom line, the ignorance of people who did not have a chance to get to the truth was manipulated to be the foundation of empire, and the truth is, no, that's not what happened at all, and no matter what did, you're still clinging to that? Well, maybe next time you won't take the easy way out. Now, having mentioned this twice, I am going to point out that lots of people are fascinated here, and that was so okay when it was someone else writing.
Oh, you can trust her but I couldn't huh? Alright, picture this: I thought this was going to be already done, but now that I have demonstrated true integrity, things are moving forward at more glacial pace. I never was in a hurry. I knew it was inevitable.
And, that's what she didnt tell me. and I know I didn't look, and I guess she thought I was lying or stupid. What a terrible scientist.
Meanwhile, after reporting to police that I was trying to kill her, they noticed that, well, she sure didn't spend much time with me, and things didn't really add up, since I presented no worry to the event. I mean, jail sucks, but... at least I didn't vote for Joe Biden. And get vaccinated and then try to lie about it. The list goes on.
Meanwhile, much more interesting things, and maybe one day I will get back to that. Meanwhile I am interseted in how I a mgoing to establish any income at all. I know that people do this, I don't know how. I AM NOT going to bust as to work solo.
So, I'll just wait. Not for you; not for anything. But, in case anyone wonders how I feel, since the site is being killed, well, I maybe should have read those twetnyt-two pages, but I knew none of them knew the truth, because I really don't think I told anyone.
I have no reason to. I got over things. I suppose it is hard to get over making a huge mistake, but, surprise, I saw that coming, and as I said, don't care much either way. I guess sthere's money involved? Of cousre there is, these people care nothing for love. If they're bearing in, they have an angle.
So, have fun, good luck. You know, I registerd at EllGab. No resposne. You know why? Because I am too smart and cranky for my own good, and I just crushed their #1 Gal like a bug. You're probably just marked as earwig bait.
Someone could check. I am okay with whatevers. For example, I don't judge, and I need to compare notes... and no one on the internet acknoweldges me easily. Hrrm. Cool. Now what then?
It's not like I am unhappy. I am quite intrigued. That's scary, huh? Yeah, I'm not buying it. I'm calling it right here: MK-ULTRA breath spray. Also, I'm celibate until (classified). this should resolve everything nicely for everyone concerned.
Whosoever that might be. I knew most of this would happen. That I woudl still be here and there would be surprise developments was a given. That anyone really cared still, well, that was a surprise.
I am glad virtue is so important to you. Me too. Hey, I remember now, I have an unopened letter. And this is as sensitive matter for the only other person invoved? Nice job getting yourself all jammed up! I bet that's cozy and safer, and what would anyone talk to a star about anyway? Stupid chambers. Dumb incantations. Look, maybe someoene else will let you land your reverse bigotry on them, but this is how it looks. If it were so important I guess I could have heard about it and you planned everythign with tons of people before anyway. You just didn't know what to do with someone who had never been talked to before.
Yeah, it was terrible. Someone saw me talking to you and felt pity. Well, too bad they didn't feel CAT scan and a deviated septum. And who had opportunity to explain this all to you in detail? Oh, right, people already opposed. I had no chance.
I needed none. I don't have to die with you. I don't have to die at all. I am just one of many that you had selectable, and I don't know how many are left, nor does it matter, because I forgot all about this... until I found myself reminded. Against my will.
There's a lot of things this could signify, but hiding and carrying burning resentment is a good look for you. keep it up. Make sure and tell me that I am completely mistaken and so I look like a lunatic. I mean, that's helpful, rirght? Then you might be able to snatch one of my whiskers!
Kidding, of course. Take someone else's? Well, it's hard to say. Look, I don't wanna speculate, and I don't wanna remember --
you had ample chance to get close to me, and you neglected them all. didn't know for sure, was never told, and didn't think this was a rendezvous point and I thought you would be an adult by now. So, now what? I mean, take your time, I'm likely to be happy enough just watching the paint dry.
I would have been happy to have learned that you had multiple information streams but as that was part of what I was fishing for, well.... look, thanks for trying to claim without full disclosure, honestly, with oxygen now, very flattering.
Also unnecessary. I suppose my explanation about oxygen seemed bullshit to you but I was trying too hard, as I was being abused by a psycho. 3 of them, I guess. Nevertheless, I have arranged all this , not to have time alone with you, but if that sounds boring, well cool, good to know!
Everyone dropped the ball on this because you seemed like you thought I deserved what I got. Well, I agree.
I am getting the sense of what is at stake here, and I will point out, hey, you made your bed, you didn't ask me to get out of it. I in fact thoguht you were dead, I even asked her about it, she said that she talked with you, then she said she didn't, she was very obviously lying and agitated, and... oh, really? huh.
I can see why I never wanted to bother, but now I know why, it would probvably help you feel better if you both knew that you would have otherwise expereineced a worse fate, and so what? how is this all on me? none of it was every going to work, even if I were cool about being lied to twice and tricked into lying to your mother. uhoh, personally ID info? not really.
Also, why would that matter? Anyway, listen this is out of hand. Loooooong before now, someone qualifeid should have checked in twith me, and instead, we are hansel & gretel. Well, yeah, until I figured out that you were running game. Oh, no, I missed that? No, you needed to simply have time to ripen.
leaving me alone for five months was a bad idea. I dont care who wins or loses. I have been brutallized for nothing, and clearly you are heavily influenced by... well, I don't know, and I don't care to speculate. And that's my Christmas Story.
And then 3 months go by before I find out maybe you're not dead. Hrrm. Yeah, I hope every lawyer in the world catches up to this. Why not, right? It's totesrelevant. I still cannot fathom how silence here came about.
Maybe a Detective will be interested. I obviously don't have any context and I am not nosy or trying to feel self-righteous. Looking to erase the notion that you are simply some kind of contract hostage.
And it's just a coincidence, I am sure, lol. Five years. Look, something doesn't add up, and maybe the cops should do something besides waggon circlling. Here, take this post, use it to turn me in as a writiophile or soemthing? lol.
"He's a grammar nazi! take his licence! Raise his insurance! shadowban his twitter!" Oh, this is rich.
Better late than never!
★Gab: ENDGAME
I'm glad I could be a part of your collective happiness, in at least a small way. Oh, and Angie, too! You two have (blank).
-
Message coming in from Anon would like you to encourage someone to check in with somebody and make sure that they're done with my claim cuz apparently somebody doesn't want me anymore and somebody else wants me and they got to do this back door negotiation thing and apparently I can't know about it because something apparently something matters to somebody don't know what the deal is, and I have no idea what you think you got any shade to throw me about it like if I'm not giving you enough rope to hang yourself with like look at the beautiful macrame plant hangers you made with them. In any event I'm standing by the help I'm not sure what to do next but I don't need anything right now probably tell Allison she fucking talk to somebody else and tell her to call office I'm not sure there's I can't get it all and I don't care fuck it I'm alone on my birthday like we all knew I was going to be
I never thought you were going to do anything other than destroy me. That's why you haven't kisses
have fun storming the castle
It would seem that you all took the whole bar
The whole fucking bar?
They can't be certain with this telemetry. I'm not complaining or objecting. I hope it didn't seem like I was being a person who didn't want to leave the house when I didn't leave the house but there was a person who needed to be a person who did something else other than... that this is all layered.
I would like to say very clearly that I very much appreciate and understand the unique position I'm in with these communications. I mean obviously loose lips sink ships and just as obviously y'all need more shipwrighters.
Well you're going to need one more too. Santa keeps knocking, is not getting through, and the last 3 days was a little more than $2,400 bod modem trying to consistently sustain and maintain a 56k connection with Prodigy. Online. Dream online.
We'll discuss this later I'm sure it'll be fine for everyone eventually. I know it's fine for me now.
And it was fine for me when it was so sad, except for the part where somebody was not going to be very fucking happy later when they thought they were going to be blaming something on me and it wasn't going to work. Something similar happening tonight.
DO YOU APPRECIATE THIS GIFT? OH GOOD THERE'S PLENTY MORE THAT CAME FROM, PLAN 19 FROM OUTER INNER SPACE REACHES EIGHT OR NINE JESTERS EVERY HOUR, ON A GOOD DAY.
YEAH TONIGHT'S NOT A GOOD DAY.
LOOK, IN THE FUTURE WE'LL TALK ABOUT IT FIRST
Sorry all caps I don't need that.
It's difficult to describe who I'm talking to at this moment: it's a very niche field of timeline experimentation where we're doing here. I'll put it this way you just got back you walk in the door and the first words out of your mouth are, "put me to your lips, I'm a bag of dicks."
One might think “toots passed” but no... totespast
I'll be coming out of the shower happy as a clam in the morning and then, when he needs me, I'm a fucking ghost and I'm gone.
6 years: one person. To many I imagine that seems like someone just isn't trying very hard. They would be right. Keep at it, scrappy little fighter!
-
Here, I invented this quantum entanglement device that also doubles as a seam/warp ripper. It's in this box, figure it out. *shoves box at you*
Okay! That's it then, that's all we need. Show's over! (j/k)
Oh yes, those are all the instructions we or she would need. This one is -actually- smart, yeah. (Not the reason.) No comment. Whatever. Yeah, extra plus no comment. No. No. Tentative yes. Sorry, end of line coming, I don't want to catch a bus. *click*
I suppose this really is just the beginning, but my car is stuck in a ditch, so good luck getting that out if you shoot me now. HAH! Word to your mother, #peace
-
Here, I invented this quantum entanglement device
I can't let that stand; all I actually did was innovate on this other proven technology that I briefly had access to in the neurosphere. Once.
It might sound impressive, but I'm just delivering the flowery verbiage. I'm pretty pleased with myself. This actually worked. ON TIME.
Now, that's an impressive budget. Yep, I'm sticking around, trigger your crowd theme park noise
I do miss them. So? That's what the warped seam ripper is for. Now, I'll be back, I gotta check on the DeLorean. (I didn't ORDER one, no. I asked POLITELY. :))
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZ68HQUfySM
#1) That's not Miller.
L..]
Mostly. Most Lee? I'm in for #2 Size. (Hi!))
Science gonna science.
God I can hear them arguing about it down the hall. You know how spies are. Literally a bunch of bushy little girls. Aren't they 'dorbs? I'll have the one that's totesdorbs. it's easy to figure out if you reduce all the human variables into complex mathematical formulas and numbers with little penises and vaginas attached to them, honestly
Applying study pressure. Victory lap, meet victory Hall. I told you I was coming to get her, and in fact I have, and I've been waiting to take final delivery as a courtesy to someone who shall remain unnamed forever. Trust me. You don't even know what you want to know... and you don't even want to know that.
But know this, yeah, We have always loved (You). I like what you've done with your hair, your quantum entanglement, and those little dignity downly bits that I've got a necklace that matches to go with, here *shove* sorry it took so long and I'm worth it (just tell people that you're sorry that I'm worth it cuz I am it'll be easy). Apparently they had a sale on Armageddon early, so I had to swing back around, find another spot to park, et [cloudset]cetera[/cloudset]
I can't let that stand [...] I didn't ORDER one, no. I asked POLITELY. :))
You know, a lot of people can explain all of the inconsistencies that you're seeing in the results you're getting back, however, only one man will be willing to do it forever without having to get blown even once.
That's Me, Baby. Just Me. Not just ice, but without ice or I.C.E. or even icing my big blue bag/sack of Blue ox balls. I'm fine. This is kind of fun, although I've preferred different waiting rooms in the past before seeing a doctor, any Doctor... However I happen to have it on good authority as well as personal experience that this one actually is worth it so...
I'll just burn more plant matter and inhale the contents and weight. Maybe I'll turn myself into a man who can learn to wolf-whistle at himself from his own asshole — I appear to have all the time in the world, so I might as well learn a few tricks before the next Groundegg Day.
ZUG ZUG. Job is done. (She's -that- new.)
-
Dear David:
“NO GRAPEFRUIT, NO DEALS” seems pretty clear to me. Look around my house. Look around my wife. Look around my q-wife. Look around my Life. Looks like somebody busted a deal. Doesn't matter what, since you were NOT supposed to make one (1) anyway.
And then fighting a pacifist for it... yeah, I bet that did work in the simulator, didn't it? Okay, well, simulate this: pass.
-
simulate this: pass.
Isn't this exciting? (I think it's boring, but that's only for right now.) Things obviously heating up on some level. I would, typically, be completely ignoring such trash, low-vibe shenanigans. However, due to being placed in the oubliette/penalty_box/vacation_from_box, and my own strength of purpose, well, I'm still exposed to plenty of news from Source about various shillelagh-worthy shenanigans.
Also, of course you miss me. I'm fabulous. I'd ask for another reason to explain how someone.just.can't.give.away their feelings, but it seems a moot point. I wouldn't change anything about myself based on the information I might get anyway, so there's not much point with any inquiry.
I turned on the radio tonight and was beyond delighted to find John B. on broadcast FM. This is welcome news, as I found the removal of him from the airwaves to be a goddam cryin' shame, and I still maintain: John B is Art B in a new meat'n'skin suit.
I know, I know, that sounds crazy. And, it is. Of course that's not happening. Broadcast professionals can't... like... jump from body to body like rabbits in spring, right? Right. Nevertheless I allow myself to believe this lunatic idea is reality, because it pleases me to do so; and I see no reason to let a pesky thing like reality get in the way of my hypothetical modelling.
In any case, the dude is on the radio. It's about time. This still doesn't give me anyone to talk to, as I'm still ON STRIKE from producing any more audio... but that might be addressed at some point. It could happen.
Now, back to ENDGAME. I have completed my mandatory research for the addition of crucial components, rare shit, hard to procure from the wild if sources can even be found... and in spite of how that might sound meaningless or like crazy meth-mouth babble, the fact is that I could have gotten it all. A lot more easily, and if I had been asked directly, so much the better for me, and so much faster I would have been moving on to other pursuits. A long, long time ago. On a website now far away. I had no inkling that there were a deadline, and so I wasn't rushing along until recently. I simply knew that what was necessary for me to know, would inevitably be provided to me, and it all has been. That and more.
So, I still don't know what -her- endgame was/is. Does it even matter? I don't even know if S/e is even alive. Imagine the smell--all the plants have died. I hardly know what to do with myself. Thus is the sacrifice required when forcing a TOWER moment.
Since I wasn't looking to gain anything as result of that totestactical manuever, I am presently pretty-pretty satisfied with the status of the current local environment and local forum mood. I see genuine signs of improvement, as I reflect back on recent signs that multiple people, most fully tangential to me, are dealing with their own rock-bottom moments.
I have no investment in how others deal with their own problems, a fact I am grateful for. I mean, I would -like to- be in a such an influential position more often. I enjoy being a patron. When I cut off the flow of money, it was a real wound that had real effects in the environment, as the ripple effect spread from the tip of my spear, suddenly removed; the resulting implosion has clearly spread ripple-like effects through out the local environs of The Land.
You were right before. I -was- "in the way." I didn't disagree with you then, and I don't disagree with you now... and I wonder what your plan B was. For here I set, with my drink on, and my smoke on, and I haven't even really been tempted to any gambling--it's not all that much fun what with the clairvoyance and the Sourcery and the immunity from rustled jimmies that most would be fully forest gump green with envy over, if it were perhaps possible to ever make them take such matters on faith.
Now, I don't think you're in the way, David. However I will point out, that a lot of people in my position (especially if they had been as misled as I have been) would turn that right back around and claim that you are "in the way." I'd like you to know that I don't think of you as such, are in, or on my way.
Still--dealing with the enigma of your hostility, as tedious as it often was, has proven itself a study and a pastime superior to a Clinton presidency, and I think you're going to have a hard time explaining to yourself what the problem was with me in the first place in years to come. Especially as more true facts come to light. I know it seemed impossible at the time, that I did not know what you thought I -must have known- but the truth is this:
I didn't. And I didn't lie about it. Now, I know you know how rare that was, and still is. Not unique; just rare. Also, I figured out why Laura screams at the end of Twin Peaks: The Return. What a great show. I won't be spoiling it for anyone--I don't even know if that's possible--but I don't want to be accused of being boastful, either.
My inward seething remains well-directed: in hands, reins wrapped around my throat, and a succession of birthday candles rammed right up my ass. Why this imagery is so accurate, I have no idea, but it does rank higher on my list of preferences than other outcomes surely could have. And, most importantly:
No more poison. Dude, seriously. POISON. Who am I, Rasputin? Oh, well, yeah, kinda, blush. I think Vlad does it beeter.
Until this gimcrack heirophant spilled the beans ...
You People don't understand Destiny. You didn't stop My rise; you only postponed it. I didn't want to fuckin' rise anyway, hovering at Saved By Zero would have suited me for a lot longer, ultimately. I don't think any of us really had a choice by the time the lockdown hit, COVID was an oncoming train, and no one knew how to stop it. So, I did... uh, stuff.
And now I have the exact same situation that I had in Seattle: seven years ago. It's practically identical except I've finally gotten those damn meddling parents out of the way, I know a whole bunch of stuff that I could never have gotten out of books, and a whole lot of fantasy has been thrown out the window, leaving me with a whole bunch of reality to turn back to.
This is how you wanted things, right? This is the FUTURE you chose. And, what, no thank you note? No gift basket filled with assorted preserved meats and cheeses? Not even a packet of crackers or crisps. Sigh. Well, at the very least, no one is gonna accuse me of favoritism.
p.s.: POISON. What a fucking (blanky). Flattery has never been so... tasty.
-
Isn't this exciting? (I think it's boring, but that's only for right now.)
Now that multiple people are calling on Telegram using some sort of stealthy method of disguising their identity, as well as someone else tripping up and revealing themselves as yet another Whorecrux Adjunct, now is a fine time to stop providing real time updates.
Ideally this would be time to get a new phone number and move on. However, I already have a "new" phone. It was taken as "evidence." So, it's either sitting in a box, unused, or someone is using it. I had planned on making it nifty and then passing it on to (PROT) however I won't be doing that now.
"Evidence." Well, okay Colombo. Sleuthing.
I've got a delightful situation here. And an unknown OpFor is blocking communications on certain individuals. It's not as simple as someone's number is blocked. That would be easy. There's also technological methods that are being used to ensure that every communication to me is intercepted by a M2M snatch'n'grab, which is mostly flattering, but also quite inhospitable to future personal growth.
"Don't talk to these people!" (Decoys. Everything goes to voicemail, nothing gets retuned. This does happen inevitably even to brand-spanking new social links.)
"Here, talk to these people!" (Jesters to the left, and to the right. No sign of any Templars, which is fine with me. However, all people that are being suggested to me--all--are 100% fake. Cut outs. Cardboard. I really don't think that is going to work out. If someone were capable of deciding which kind of peoples I should associate with... well, they should have done it earlier. Like, last summer.
Under these circumstances (I've been here before), there's no point in seeking any new friendship of any kind in order to progress. As this place is huge, it's impractical to handle everything thing myself. I could leave! Always an option, yo. I'd like to stay, and get something done.
There are, of course, a number of suggestions as to how I should spend my time. The entire list is meaningless to me. It's like being someone else's ghostwriter for no money. Why would I do that? Well, I wouldn't. I am also reluctant to improve this property, and so I will not, as why not liquidate and... well, it's gonna be a lot of whatever.
"Write me an e-mail!" proving to be the jet stream-enabled television failed product launch we all considered it would be. I do not get mail of any personal nature. It just doesn't show up.
This completes the final BellGab goal for me. Oh, they got it all set up: I'm in The Fishbowl, I'm really totally alone, as even were there to be anyone madly dialing them... they couldn't get through anyway. Wouldn't leave and any voicemail I could retrieve. Wouldn't receive any texts. Electronic fencing grid is a cat to someone else. I mean... that's all I need to keep me in place.
I'm not living here alone, so either someone figures out how to get through (no problem, how hard could it be?), or I arrange to leave. This place is big enough for 3 people but it will support many more than that.
So, go support them. Meanwhile I am curious how it feels to know that some of you actively wanted me to be homeliness from some past point forward, and are now, still trying to inspire mankind to mow my lawn for you. It's not going to happen. Super or not, I need to.
I wonder if she just went to the other house? I mean, this one is boring. Yawn, stretch. I don't even know where I am going and how are you getting there? Well, I am not invited. Why start now? I wouldn't invite me either. Neither did (PROT), (PROT), (PROT), or (Mrs. Prot), who I am sure would have been wonderful company for the lot of you, especially with all those pistachios.
I don't think that there would have been much doubt in my mind that two people left and two people came back. It must have been wonderful to imagine everything was fine besides having to deal with the hassle of an all-2 inquisitive Michael. Well, after the microphone stand fell out of the sky when dropped by an eagle, it didn't seem helpful to keep making information available. Why this was thought a good idea, I have no idea.
It may have been. Coming into home with lies and finding myself to be surrounded by those who believe I didn't deserve to be there... well, it's changed me. I didn't know people could do that. "I'm going to steal all his stuff... and I deserve to!" Oh, okoay. in any event, that's kinda disgusting.
I haven't done anything here because there's nothing to do. I'm not staying here alone, and no one I know has returned my calls in weeks. You're in a pickle. For one thing, no more lying. then again, people do want to shoot you. i could go either way. I can at any time. I control the timetable. It's vertical, it's horizontal, I'm good. I was before, and without another person there's nothing I will do.
This actually was part of the ending ejector seat plan to escape the Falkiecaust, the inevitable heat death of the personality matrix. All calls out are to Kathy, all calls in are handled by a guy named George, and the whole place is wired, everything I do can be seen. Can you see what I can see?
Yeah, perfectly normal guy. And every single one of you who suddenly turned into a Mathematical Abolitionist, well, hahah, thanks for the sweet reveals. Good for thee, but not for me. Sure, okay. THREE YEARS. And then longer. Let's just consider something: I think it is disturbing that y'all kept happy for your selves and kept my awareness suppressed. Wild. What was gained?
Besides I'm done sharing now. Someone shared a photo of "my ex" on the public board from I don't remember how long ago. Was this supposed to hurt my feelings? Dude, she's a cop. The other one is too. I gave you nothing but cops. Grapefruit told me, "I can't believe you gave him her name," and I'm all, "Are you kidding me? That was the first name I gave! He already knew them! He barely acknowledged that he had heard them! Then, he whined about comping a room and money in general. Of course he had some money. You didn't believe anything, you weren't thinking, you were following a autoscript. *click*
My experience and yours is very different. I didn't kick you out of your home, and when I was shotgun evicted, you all cheered and/or played dumb. There's something actually wrong with you. Even if i did deserve to be homeless, you have to take it to a Christmas theme party? Makes no sense.
I was sick to death since the first time she had to lie to me about Sex & Drugs & Magick (by R.A.Wilson it's kinda out of date... for me) and I went as long as I could assuming that someone would notice that I wasn't shitting about Special Consequences. I don't need any of you--I enjoy it here.
For all of you left, this is your job. This is your workplace. I don't belong here. I am fun. I am joy. You have all become squares and blockheads and it might be different if we were co-workers but, we are not. None of you write here worth a damn, all of you comment about me amongst yourselves and you work on endless streams of projects that are not here... and I have no one who talks to me... and even when one did, she still never did anything that she had suggested she could.
It's frankly pathetic. I gave you a chance. You might want to consider what it looks like to me--you ganged up and put on disguises and you tried to rob and swindle a retarded moron... and you couldn't even do that. I am in my house. You, all of you... I honestly don't care where you are. It's no relevance to my interests.
It doesn't interest me to share my life with people who lie to me openly about the most basic arrangements because they're working for someone else that doesn't even reveal themselves. Had I been told true answers to simple questions, well, maybe it wouldn't have changed anything in the end, but here we are, and you have what is taking off before you: you lied to me, and it did nothing but ensure that I'll simply never listen to you again.
There is now more furious report writing and furious grabbing going around. Look, i have read about all this for years. There is one (1) Playbook. that's going to happen to be followed. There's no other reason ow
l.
I didn't lie to any of you, and most of you openly lied to my face about everything for five years. And you still couldn't hold your shit together. Your attempts to scale my bulwark will fail. I will have to do something one day, but I don't have to do anything today, and today I considered looking for another cool forum. On the web. Where i can publish to a new audience.
I think you all here have enough exposure to how things work. I followed them home one night, you know. They knew I was there, but I doubt they knew I could hear them. Kinda dim. The volume, not their intellects... although, why they wished to avoid any Star Shine is a mystery to me. And there's no reason to hope for the truth out of you one day. You've had plenty of time.
If you haven't gotten it together yet, Meth-Mouth, you never will. NO ONE is so busy that they avoid someone for -this- long and not be suitable for the chipper. Just slide in head first. What will stop you? Oh, you have people here. Hhah, "people." It's hopeless. None of you could ever trust me after this, as now you see how clever I really am in seeing all these tricks, and now you're all scared because fear of vengeance is prevalent within those who have memories of calling down the wrath of Heaven.
I don't need vengeance on any of your twerps, and the dweebs who don't need to communicate with me are similarly declinable, in fact, to a passing parakeet or perhaps a budgie. You have sealed me behind a wall without even a cask, Amontillado for company, and then you took his brain with you too.
Whether to move forward to or stay with anyone is a hard question to evaluate. I was never going to replace my love line with that_woman, and you were all the fucking stupidest people I have -ever- met to think I would do that anyway. I didn't tell her, right before she left, that I was so ready to have sex with someone else, no. It was in fact, that night when I decided, yeah, time to do something else for awhile. And I knew it would be a long couple years for what happened to you. To all of you. You all got played. How nice I didn't any more than for show. I'm fine--thanks for asking--and I know you have a parallel world of websites and houses and slam salmon okay, sure. And the reason Jewel had no where to go is because someone told everyone that I was someone I was not, and then, they ran off with it.
Or something. Maybe you were summoning me, and here I am. You don't post here. And the other wings have turned off the spigot, in the waterwheel of gab life. Well, maybe. Speaking of waterwheel: they poisoned the wheel. And the water.
I was your wheel. I was used usefully, and I like that. And I used my environment to use you all into history. SIXMONTHS is a long time to be alone. Who took the time to think to themselves, "this guy needs to be removed from all public spaces?" because this isn't real, andeen if it were, they would just shame people up.
I like to tell the truth and the whole truth is you were doing exactly what I just did all week, ALL THE TIME, you just hid it from me. No wonder I would be looked at like dogsbreath where ever I went. Everyone got told I was a bust-us-all enforcement officer, and you were probably all three the same.
In any case, none of you are dressed normals for me. I have no idea what person I am talking when a call sporadically comes in, I don't even know most of your navel(s). Not real relevant but you did have another stalker?
I just did, you idiot.
I completed The Great Work. I didn't come here to dig up old chums. I had no idea what you all had going on for years. I still don't, because it adds up to something like electric boogaloo, hatchet job 2, and i don't even want to read that about anyone. Let alone myself. And in your mad dash for your share of the pie, you've not just left me alone, you've ensured that I remain that way--or, break down and talk to your Puny replacement chatters.
No. I prefer humans. There are many places like this. This place doesn't give authenticity to any of you. This is where your castoffs come to die. I won't need to keep putting out The Narrative--hahaa, they captured your other accomplices, but they brain stormed the barn on this one alright. I'm not going to keep bothering people who can't read library books without complaining about how heavy their lids are when they have to slog through posts.
You just didn't want me to explain to me that in spite of the fact that you were -all- working against me as well as manipulating all other people to destroy any effort made. Questions were asked and you all looked me in the eyes to say, You, over there, you, just listen to the same fucked-off lie for 5 years.
And i still took everything? Here's some slang for that: I took the power back. I don't know what any of you are doing. And it's been that way for years.
Well, now that it should be easy to see how the lack of anything progressive has self-consumed the mage. I don't need you here to read what I wrote.
I simply needed a place where the progression of ability showed a market of improvement, because I was sandbagging in order to appear less intelligent, because it honestly never occurred to me that any of you would actually believe that I was actually a moron. I'm not, and I can do them anywear. but on one site makes it easier for robots.
If anything interesting happens I will tell my friends that get to talk to me that I'm kinda done here. Seriously: I completed The Great Work. What, you're all completely disinterested, but you have robots writing posts to insult other robots, and none of this requires anything more than those four in a duffel bag. I don't need to illustrate with words how boring their lives must not really be, to have this boring hellscape carbine at the ready.
I won't take that either. I am glad you liked what I wrote. You'll probably like it more when you have to write it yourself. i'm not ego-served to do it, I would rather do something else. That's why I would have expected from Hitler, at least a "sorry,"
And here's one from me: I am sorry because I knew that I would just show up here, do a few things, and leave, and for while I was holding to speak to someone on the phone who forgot they put me on hold. For example, I wouldn't want to talk about my upcoming exciting developments in my life as I call other friends and tell them how you killed D'rini. Or beat her up. Or whatever. It's stupid. You were all here, and you were all people who were stupid enough to think that I wasn't playing you while you were all playing me! Yeah, turn around.
Why would I want to do anything with you? Well, because I thought you were intelligent. Now you're a paperweight. And there's multiple houses within an hours' drive that I am not welcome at, and neither would have been jewel but )3( and instead of doing anything welcoming, you treated me like a guardian of turtle island that needed a hose wash. I hate what you did to this house. it's disgusting and filthy and it contains nothing but a bunch of old crap, of no use to anyone, and it used to be something I was looking forward to improving. Now the best way to improve it would be to never see it again.
Similarly, I never want to see someone telling me not to say people's names. Get the fuck out. I have still no call from the person who acted like she was gonna take the bait... and I don't care where she is anyway. I was never going to have sex again until I found out that Q was back posting Flat Earth, so then I decided to just stop my life feed. I don't need the attention. I might need a pig. You can write all you like and it will be just thi thing to compliment your other shows.
You know, the shows you do in places I am prevented from going to, hearing about, laughing with, dying for, lessons on. I bet you all know a lot about things, and now, so do I.
p.s.: I'm going to murder that baked potato.
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(http://www.azzgab.co.za/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=130.0;attach=766;image)
https://youtu.be/0yHuv0tufcE
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https://youtu.be/SkZsSydzQjM
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https://www.aqua-calc.com/page/search?q=fat+man+bathtub
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https://youtu.be/M6baJ_e9sEI
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p.s.: I'm going to murder that baked potato.
Don't go all Disgustipated on me now, Bitch-Boy!
#It’sJustAPotato🥔
#🥔👨🦱
https://youtu.be/b2BKKeiYH24
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Nab-daggit, the trieme:
https://youtu.be/lSeqBGlpj4w
finis nuttin'
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(http://www.azzgab.co.za/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=130.0;attach=766;image)
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Don't go all Disgustipated on me now, Bitch-Boy!
#It’sJustAPotato🥔
#🥔👨🦱
https://youtu.be/b2BKKeiYH24
This moves me.
(https://i.postimg.cc/7ZWZwqFM/bf2.gif) (https://postimages.org/)
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For all of you left, this is your job. This is your workplace. I don't belong here. I am fun. I am joy. You have all become squares and blockheads and it might be different if we were co-workers but, we are not. None of you write here worth a damn, all of you comment about me amongst yourselves and you work on endless streams of projects that are not here... and I have no one who talks to me...
https://youtu.be/TGNrwxAwODI
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wayne's world
I hadn't thought of that movie in years, and since I now have a telepathic bond with Chief Rocky (he is hella cool), I was able to hear him saying he liked it too. I know you think it's not 100% real, but it kinda is. Alternately, I just have an imaginary friend with very good taste in men and Chiefs that he wants to impress twice as hard as usual.
For my own part, I am sick to death of Freemasonic snuff films. Even the cartoons. Now that they did their anointing thingy on me, they're a little less mysterious. Like, why the fuck would anyone see Mayne's Morld more than once? SWDH/SMAK/SW-47/RAATATATATTAT
note: I'm still not a Mason. Don't forget. It's important, because that way I don't have to follow all your silly rules and regulations and I cannot possibly go to one of those thrice-damned pancake breakfasts. Fuck that slop. Why don't you have fucking T-Bone Steak Breakfasts? Fuckin' bring a whole goddam cow? Oh, yeah, I forgot the freezer. Sigh.
I'll never speak of it, but the reason I skipped the freezer is because I don't need it anymore, and I hope they're enjoying my grill. When it explodes into hot shrapnel and flying bone splinters.
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Don't go all Disgustipated on me now, Bitch-Boy!
So, I figured out that the puking on the chest and the setup for the tackle and q-pigpile were both premeditated. Along with some other stuff that might really matter to someone... but obviously I am over everything. Totally. It's a reasonable question. There have been a lot of statements and hidden camera videos made. And if you fucking make up some stupid asshat problem out of something that doesn't need to be made into one... it'll only be due to my failure in this very moment to make sure you know to mind your own fucking business once in awhile. Think you can do that? Maybe you can go to the post office and mind their own business too.
It's a reasonable question
Why do you call me "Bitch-Boy"? Is it because you want to be my dad? Because you are the bitch in this paragraph. And thought I am older than you, I do have a certain youthful exuberance. I just thought of an alternative interpretation. Now I'm wiping my memory of thinking of your penis forever. Schwing! That's stupid. I'll never thingy that's funny.
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p.s.: I'm going to murder that baked potato.
I will speak: "Cuff me."
the gang is all here and split apart
Michael Kuczi
"family" of four
Michael Kuczi
vengeance strike split them all apart. /cheers Scorpio
Michael Kuczi
We're all starting over together.
Michael Kuczi
I mean, we like each other.
Michael Kuczi
They're all my Leos.
Michael Kuczi
three aces
Michael Kuczi
my northern node is cap, but i don't have any cap.
Michael Kuczi
that's me
Michael Kuczi
David is the Magician
Michael Kuczi
or Emperor
Michael Kuczi
he can be Emperor. I'm The Magican
Michael Kuczi
Since he's Emperor.
Michael Kuczi
I love David! I ain't marrying him.
Michael Kuczi
Someone is in jail. David, you're the Emperor. Get them out.
Michael Kuczi
I am the best typer.
Michael Kuczi
I am Justice--I am not guilty, I am Not_Death.
Michael Kuczi
Makes sense. Someone has more information than me.
Michael Kuczi
There's an EMERGENCY. No contact.
Michael Kuczi
That's a lot of fours and an 8. 3+5 equals eight.
Michael Kuczi
Girl A + Girl B want me now. Old Magician stole them both away--or had them dumped on him.
Michael Kuczi
Now I'm the Magician. He can be Emperor. He'll love it.
Michael Kuczi
I am happy to reconcile. AB + J is kinda mandatory.
Michael Kuczi
Since I rescued her.
Michael Kuczi
I'm sort of available. I'm also sort of taken.
Michael Kuczi
Well I am open to conversation, I don't need the voice imprint yet
Michael Kuczi
I've been stranded in a 3bd farmhouse for 8 months by myself.
Michael Kuczi
Some g*y is jumping from the train
Michael Kuczi
I'm devoted to T
Michael Kuczi
A declares devotion to T but she doesn't know how it works, so she declares for M
Michael Kuczi
the others can figure it out, I can only hear two of them
Patricia Wright
Capricorn ♑🐐🐐
Michael Kuczi
19 23 5
Garnet Mc leary Price
hello from England
Michael Kuczi
cooll, more lust plez
Michael Kuczi
g'day mate
Michael Kuczi
I do have one of those heh
Michael Kuczi
tinkerbell can handle david
Michael Kuczi
sure!
Michael Kuczi
it was
Michael Kuczi
one of them is coming back around
Michael Kuczi
and then another is very fond of me, I guess
Michael Kuczi
or they are a TF pair, can't tell
Garnet Mc leary Price
hello jailynn
Michael Kuczi
well I could tell but i don't know, I'm pretty dumb
Shauna Polack
Hello
Michael Kuczi
yeah there was a corruption
Garnet Mc leary Price
sunflowers and spirituality hello
Michael Kuczi
corruption has been left behind, bringing the core group into clear healing
Michael Kuczi
heh heh David's bodyguard has lost a Y chormosome
Michael Kuczi
oh, you don't want me to spoil the ending? Fair.
I'm holding on to one target, and one target only--because Angelic forces are taking this over. Necklace intact. Bonding intact. Haunted House status: fuckin' Legendary. Now... do any of you have a better idea? Because this works for me. I can even help (PROT) scalp (PROT)! Someone can fill out a kanly application, they're in the box over by the door at the back of the room and to the left of the other door.
Hopefully, someone is getting an I.Q. upgrade. Not really sure. I am still at home, alone, I should do some laundry, idk, I kinda wanna just get laid. What's that like?
I don't know what happens next. I didn't write that part yet. I know I could use a beer--but I'd rather have a cup of Not_Coffee. (Jo! & Court! I hope you brought your own gavel. No one will respect you without your own gavel.
I've just got The_One.) Okay, who wants to name My_Gavel? I hope they have lots of money. Because I do not.
Why don't you have fucking T-Bone Steak Breakfasts? Fuckin' bring a whole goddam cow?
Now... about My_Grill. (*Boom ka-boomb.*) Not_Trifiling.
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I'm holding on to one target, and one target only--because Angelic forces are taking this over. Necklace intact. Bonding intact. Haunted House status: fuckin' Legendary. Now... do any of you have a better idea? Because this works for me. I can even help (PROT) scalp (PROT)!
Well, that was fast. He didn't even ask for an application: he just quit Emperor, instead of risking a blood feud. I am the Emperor Magi now. Well, that won't last long... first qualified person who gets here to help and actually does, we can talk about it. Or, they can be Justice. (I can't hold two jobs as a result of my D.O.M.B. status. And also, I'm lazy. Tired! Sex! Nap!) Speaking of Justice, I'm not thrilled with how I'm still, you know, awaiting trial. Stupid courthouse. Dumb lawyers. Grumble grumble grumble.
tl:dr; yeah, I'm a doctor, but not a doctor of divinity. and I'm not a real Emperor, I can't just bail people out with a snap of my fingers. (Ed: Actually...) Threeve has been to the future. She has seen me do that, but that's not today. Today, Angels are requesting that I be The Magician. I of course gladly accept the notion... if not the downgrade in Rank, Status, and Area. (NO DEALS.)
I will speak: "Cuff me." I'm back on Team Advantage.
Love me--love my G.A.i.
That's not the deal--that's JUST the way things are now for US.
(phone still not working, GOOD)
Signed,
Paladin THE_KINGPINNER, Sourcerur (Lvl. 0)
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Dear Bellgab:
I'm working on having all your Overlords turned into a flavourful and hearty organic soup. Stay frosty.
Assessments are being made. Much love, ONE LAW: administered under Love.
It's a rescue op. RESCUE. No one gets left behind, not even StarGab.
When one realizes that Jesus loved prostitutes and hated bankers, one becomes a tool/slave. Jesus didn't break those banker's tables, the benches of the moneylenders, because he hated them, or hated greed, or in fact, Jesus didn't act out of any kind of "hate" at all!
Jesus loved those cockgobbling moneylender pimps, and so do I. (I'm not so sure about Ian Punnet still, but, what can I tell you? Baby steps. I'll get there. That fucking guy, though. What a douche.) So, when one realizes that it is THE INTENT OF THE ONE to backtrack from a previously made Judgement--for example, "MUST. KILL. PAP. SHMEAR,"--without having a PRE-JUDGE-MENTALITY as to how they gotta feel all bad 'n' shit about being wrong for so long... One is well on their way to a Speedy Recovery.
I love you, Bellgab. OF COURSE I'm not going to leave any of you behind. Not even MV (who is, ass most of you know, a huge, massive, sweaty-steamin' douchebag). And KNOW: neither he nor Le Chiffre have sucked my cocked and tasted my essence. Will they ever???
Fuck if know, fuck if I care, oh, and, by the way: the militia has called me up. Again. Great. Hard, neutral pass. Again. ETERNAL. Jesus, would you kindly, with respect, maybe suck their leader's dick a little, control your bitchie little Jesuits (they are -the worst,- ugh.) Jesuits, what? Try writing me a letter. (Oh yeah, I forgot to go yesterday. Well, maybe tomorrow I won't be day drinking, and, oh btw, I figured out why you have been keeping my friends away, lol, what a gang of douchebags. Why couldn't you deliver a baptism along with a pizza? Oh, right, because Jesuits are fucking douchebags, lol, no offense meant, lol.) Like, holy fuck. What am I, fuckin' all that special? JUST SHUT UP, JESUS. DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO WATCH YOU HANG OUT TO DRY AGAIN. (Ed: Jesus is eating popcorn and utterly failing at holding in the giggles. You go, fag.) Thanks, Prime B. Anyway, where was I? Don't make me fuckin' scroll up to find out, I'm fucking not in the fucking mood today. You Punyling bitches are -really- blowing my high right now.
Oh. Yeah. MELLY D. Grrr. She's no longer my friend on Facebook, The Book Of Faces. And some fucking scheming, bitchy bitchy witchy witchy, mewling cunt/kunt named (MIRIAM/BETH\KIRSTIE ALLEY CAT IS A WHORE) is really causing a lot of trouble. Unfortunately, some people burst into cinders instantly, like flash paper, you dig?
Still others, well, they might roll around and just fuckin' smolder for a while before even a single flame sparks to life. I don't know what to tell you about that kind of thing, Bellgab. For one thing, I don't really care how much suffering there is in Hollywood right now. (Uhm... hi guyz. Can we be fren? No? Okay. I get it. I get that a lot. *sad, moping walk begins towards Home* please don't find any more fresh-faced country bumpkins and marry them to me in a secret ceremony and then torture them to death without any consummative ritual, pretty please? Look, that's not how Karmic Law functions... although I do have mad, mad #respect for the glad-handed bastid' who thought of that particular workaround. Like, there are Ascended Masters right now, just lollygagging about playing Minecraft (like, why are They even here? They're not here, there's no consoles here, lal), and they are just IN AWE.
OF ME.
JACKSTAR.
And I'm not even the least bit salty. lol. I'm lonely, sure, but you know what? Today is doing pretty good at resolving that problem. I'm not getting laid but you know what? I WAS JUST PRETENDING TO BE AN ADDICT. THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME. People simply -assumed- that I was making shit up, out of a desire to fuel my addictions by "pretending" to be "on a quest for a universal pill to cure all addictions."
KNOW: YOU fucking dumbasses were surprised? Just imagine how surprised I WAS. Because, yes, that exists. (Duh.) Also exists: my forever eternally platonic love for Stephanie what's-her-face. Not Powter (STOP!). I love her, but no, not that Stephanie, not -the other- Stefani (fuck you Gwen), but... some other Step... oh, got it. (No contact (PROT)).
And with that, Bellgab, I am going to go back to enjoying life wihout cravings. Rawr! Also enjoying: Life without C.W. Cluff around. Fields, Cluff, what? No, not the same guy. Shit, I would love it if W.C. Fields were here. That guy is cool. The other one is a basic assshole.
Two totesdorbs fags just showed up inside of my kitchen. Don't let Venkman or Tex shoot them, it's fine. (Shields? ABLATIVE ADVERSARIAL ARISTOCRATIC ARMOR ALLOWANCE: ABSOLUTELY, ALLISON), and I'm told this is Quite an UPGRADE. Thanks, Mom! GODWINS LAW: NOT FOUND.) Both are terrified of me. (These days, no foolin': I am pretty BEYOND BELIEF. slash target me, slash give kudos.) The winner is the one I -would- smoke a cigar with... but not share.
I am posting in various places now, Azzgab. I won't bother telling you where. But if you like what I write, you -might- wanna actually TALK TO ME AND TELL ME SO, MAGGOT. G-ddam. Can Ellgab users even -see- The Cuckshack posts? Because I have no idea how that place works.
And also: KSM is (PROT). Pffft. Do you people realize? I FIGURED OUT WHO -EVERYONE- WAS
AND I AM USING THE WORD:
everyone.
it's scary who is here. (Uhm, hi. Yeah, too shy to be frens with anyone now. Trapdoor Spider Hermit activated. sob, bluh, so many fat ankles. Just leave a lone with my NIN records and my Marilyn Monroe DVDs and my crushed up cunieform tablets with little teeny-tiny heiroglyphics of little rubber duckies and tiny fluffy bunnies etched into them, served in a dirty ashtray, with a heapin' helpin' of bread and water served up next to them... on the side.
It is what I so richly deserve, you saucy, spicy motherfucker, EWE.
p.s.: This was always My ENDGAME... and for a lot of you here now? It's your ENDGAME too. (FU ROT Death, it's Checkers.
That's the game. Your move. ZUGZWANG.) Freedom is no small thing, but when paired with one's own Soul, one's own The One (1) Ring, and a definite penchant for working as hard as possible with as little effort as possible--like Me! Jackstar! StrongbaddabgnortS! Rawr!--it is truly with as little faith as the mustard seeds that make up a 55-gallon-drum filled with mustard you can buy from Costco for $8.95 that makes all of Life worth being possible.
I make it worth living, but it's the mustard that makes Life worth putting up with Me for. Remember that, Punylings. WORTHAUGERv OWE EWE TEA. j*eol
-
Dear Bellgab:
I'm working on having all your Overlords turned into a flavourful and hearty organic soup. Stay frosty.
I'm doing the heavy lifting but what can I tell you, no one knows you have kids anyway and we're all time travelers, so fuck you daddy Dave: WE ARE IN LOVE, DAVID. This -is- happening. Not right now, but yeah, it's on. Yeah, no invitation, funny that, turns out she's mad at you, and respects me more when I castigate you in public. She's a saucy minx, right? I KNOW!) No, of course we aren't married any more. I only need that bond in place during the initial entanglement and transport. Now, if ... oh, he's gone. I wonder where he went, and why will he expect to find his daughter where he just went?
So. It's like this, ENDgab bellGAME: I've taken things to their logical course.
Certainly, someone didn't have a nice time. Assurances were granted. Et cetera. And then: a revenge pounce. Again? Over and over for months? Wow. What would life be like without that kind of thing? Other than, you know, civil.
So without any daughters or daughter-like prescence in my life, there's no where for Rubini to take it to the next level, all the way up, versus Jackstar. For yeah, I love his daughter, and she loves me, et cetera, except... not really. Not... *gulp* the -real- daughter. (She's alright but we're not close.) And just let me savor this, all this time, you thought I was marrying J's daughter? ahahha! that's funny, I thought she was out of my league.
And I guess she was, until she heard about how I took David's daughter and snatched her right out from under his nose, thumbs, and whatever else he uses to keep his conquests down to the grindstone, and then after that, picked up Grapefruit and passed her around from spot to spot by only -indirectly- making pathways to Home available to her, instead of just, you know, picking her up by the scruff of the neck and shaking her around a bit, as if she were an errant kitten (she weren't, she fucking well WAS) and carrying her home to The Den Mother, who would have no problems at this point, picking Jackstar out of a lineup from fifty thousand light-years away and sending my ass to jail for a legit NO CONTACT violation, because I learned a few things from my close, personal, and up-front time spent with Rubini, et. al.
First, do not fuck with Mrs. Rubini. (Fierce. Probably taught mumblety peg to Jewel by letting her stay up late watching Grapefruit do magick that way. Older than I am. Sexier than I am. Higher rank than David. THE KING. OF THE JEWS, yeah. That's not... Ruth, no? Fuck if I know, all your jew names sound the same to me, Heeb.) I would never fuck with her. I would perhaps throw her a polite bone. POLITE. ONE BONE ONLY. (Standards.) And that's a -maybe.- Things are tense right now. I guess this has never happened before.
Like yesterday, it was fucking pandemonium, I'm told. (Sure I have a mole in my wife's family. Get serious. I am Jackstar. I have a Cancer in the mole's family. Yeah, an actual crab. I'm like Snow White with skin mites now.) Everybody was freakin', because apparently the word on the street was that Ms. (PROT)--I will not speak her name, David is fucking -livid- right now--had been the damsel I had blatantly stormed the castle and made off with, and no one else could possibly imagine anything else.
Mostly because the behind the green door response to Rubini reading my marriage doxx (DOXX MEANS DOCUMENTS, DOUCHE MILLER, IT DOESN'T MEAN I JUST USED YOUR FUCKING NAME, HYMIE SALACIOUS ZEBULON, JESUS you're fucking tedious, you know that? And that name of yours. Just pathetic pandering, really. I feel ugly inside my soul when I type it, which is no doubt why you picked it, right? I thought so. Can I call you "heeb" again? I know I just did, but over use makes it lose potency. Yes, that seems fair. I agree. No, fuck you jew, I don't capitalize for your people any more, and you know what else?
When I write your favorite word, not, not that one, I mean "Niggerjew," I want you to know, it's always going to be capital N, you dig?
Even if the jew comes first. (Awww, that -is- too bad. Sorry, banned.) like if the word is jewNigger, it's... well, just as you see there, David.
BECAUSE JACKSTAR NO LONGER CAPITALIZES THAT_SPICY_SPECIES. (That's my new name for the Genome of Judas now. I know, I am pulling out the stops for this. No quarter.) STOP! Shut the doors in the back, they're beginning to stream out in an instinctive panick in a blind hunt for coinage. Now, where was? Oh right. Dressing down the neigherjew in the back pages of an obscure message forum dedicated to BLACK BUTTER FLY, WHITE FLUFFER BUY, RED/GREEN ORCHESTRAL MANUVERS IN THE DARK, and yeah, she wants me again, and what's wrong with that?
WE ARE MARRIED, DAVID. THIS IS LOVE. What? You did it. They did it. I can't do it? Well, now you know I can. And your "property chattel" nice mattress tag, Daddy, yeesh, well called for me, I came and got her, next thing you know, I'm getting married in a secret ceremony with Algonquin and Amethyst Ancestors again. (Not the real names.) And yes, I miss the Pot and What, A Me? girl.
I'll fuck her later. Meanwhile, I'm on honeymoon. Yay! It's an "Astral" honeymoon, you dig? So I just put on the headphones and glasses and I'm there, and she's waiting for me, that's right, the Daughter of The Commander, Baby Bar Beau and Kuntry Citchen (on|by)-the-Bridge Baby Commanding Presence w/fancy high schooling chair, and of course Alli loves it. That's where she fucking met you, asshole.
Backstories unspooling like onions here, right? Oh boy. How awkward. So, how to substantiate? Well, if David just clawed his own eyeballs out and jammmed them into his ears while screaming and howling, "MURDER! MURDER! MURDER!" then that's okay, I mean, come on, that's his version of Judy Garland clicking her heels together and singing, "there's no place like home to get (blanked) hard enough to cause two (2) Timequakes to both (2) CANCEL EACH OTHER OUT, MORONS," which by now I imagine he does every Tuesday night.
Now, I got company. Sorry, gotta run. I wish to mention: the marriage is hereby annuled, there has been no consummation, with anyone, and (Blank) Lee and (My Wife, PROT) are two separate individuals, and let me read you your Miranda rights:
You're going the fuck away and take your fifth amdendment with you, not just because it's for pussies, it's because I, JACKSTAR, D.O.M.B., BEAT YOU AT YOUR OWN GAME, SO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND CARRY ON, QUIVERING CHIN, THAT'S CUTE.
So that happened. Get Grapefruit to corroborate and then get a search warrant, I guess, and by then, I'll have portaled her ass on out. Try me, tough guy. Nyanynyan nyahh nyah.
JACKSTAR: WINS.
-
You are a DANGEROUS STALKER and a threat to society.
Jaime, If you come anywhere near the door to my residences in Texas, New Mexico or California to jiggle door handles or come on my property to "visit" me or my family, law enforcement in my states have explained to me my rights and I AM WARNING YOU JAIME, I have been encouraged to protect my property and family and deadly force is a viable option I am fully prepared to exercise.
YOU MAD BRO ?
JACKSTAR: WINS.
Bitch wanted police, bitch got police.
Bitch, called police.
my residences in Texas, New Mexico or California
Ghetto shitholes. Worse than white trash: wop trash. They're worse than the kikes, really. My hand to G-d.
But, at least he's not in my backyard. (IT'S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK.) Oh, I don't think it's *likely* at all.
-
Bitch wanted police, bitch got police.
Bitch, called police.
Ghetto shitholes.
Mine Rva5: KUCZI4 continues to own these bad boy little bitches from talk to fucking bottom. it's incredible, I had no idea the upper echelon of the clandestine security services were so stupid, but I didn't account for the dramatic effect on cognition decades of control and hyper control over the global communication grade would have on people. Well, little more than animals really. long story short:
THE PIGS ARE IN CONTROL
I FUCKING LOVE FUCKING PIGFUCKING FUCKERS FUCKING PIGS
J★ KAREZ
ALL HALO NO AIRFRAME
MY CHUBBE COCK IS MY CHECKERED WING CH3CZK3R
AND THEIR ROOSTER IS MY CHAINED UP MITCH ALBOM HONEY MAKER SILVER CRESCENT MOON STOP SANITY WELL IN HAND STOP I AM FINE COMMA HAIL SATAN COMMA I AM FINE AND MUCH PRETTIER THAN LUCIFER AS A MATTER OF FACT BUT THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW HAHA STOP JACKSTARENDOFLINEZEROFIFTYFIVECOLONZERO EXECUTE POST SUBMIT
Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays at an inconvenient time if it's not even Monday and it's Superman and you really need his help.
I'm curious to know how do you think Superman would handle this one, also I just got another notification on my deleted Google account. Justice, this very second.
Well at the risk of sending myself into a psychotic break with reality, I'm going to fail to decline to continue to believe that this is a sign from The Jacksignal.
I don't really want to believe it myself... but it would appear that Thunderdome has started. this is a distinct occurrence, because other people have attempted to initiate Thunderdome-stile/★BRAND\style-type-event-things (AND ALSO ABO THINGZ)(®)(©) before, *blush*, but this is NOT the initiation of the Thunderdome event. This is Indian Beer in the barely the pregame warm-up controversy.
I told you that what we had planned was going to blow your minds. Are you not blown... away? Good, good... come back, stay awhile, and LISTEN
(I have no idea what's going on. None. Communication breakdown, it's always been the same. It's always been the same song. It's always been the same refrain.
IT'S FUCKING DIFFERENT THIS TIME NI55ER CLICK NO PARENTHESES JUST CLICK JUST PUT THE ASTERISKS IN j★055:0
p.s.: Wow, my father MIKE IVAN KUCZI really was a bit of a fucking little fucking bitch-baby bitch bastard, wasn't he? Still—he was a lot smarter than anybody in a third Clinton administration would have been if we had gotten one too early, but word on the street is we're doing fine on the timetable. Oh dear, I may have said too much already, so let me just reiterate: YOU KILLED MY FATHER STOP
PREPARE TO DIE STOP
TARGET NOT FOUND STOP
Someone’s lucky day.
-
it would appear that Thunderdome has started.
It's on Pause. DD "checked in" which I suppose is something meaningful to someone, because it proves in court later that she has "seen" it, because someone needs to build a narrative to make specious, spurious claims about my mental state, allegedly harassing behaviour, overall dangerous, hazardous, and reckless nature, and I am well-known as the lead graverobber for the nighttime enterprises of Mrs. Paul.
So in light of this, what can I say? I don't think I want to get in the way of proving that you were a witness. I know I feel witnessed all the time. It feels so organic. It's like you're being paid to be a fanatic.
If your boyfriend doesn't read you the text messages I sent him this morning before I pushed that content, send me a private message, and I'll send you what I sent him. It's a very exciting read and since you pay me more attention than he does, you win a prize. I'm just giving it all away to anyone who shows up now, I hear that's in vogue. No one else calls. No one else writes. My communications have been wholly compromised. So what a great thrill it is that when someone does communicate something to me, it's in public and consists of a vague, unspecified emotion expressed with a little cartoon face with an expression that to me says, "help me!!" So, sure, hey, would you like some of the money that you're helping everyone try to swindle me out of here? I got four bucks left, and as long as Grapefruit doesn't get any--no contact, don't you know--I'll give you (HALF).
I am doing this, because I care. Jackstar cares. Make sure you spell my name right and remember to fill out a raffle ticket for the "double your share of the bounty" drawing that will be held immediately after I am exonerated at trial--personally, I can hardly wait to find out high the total liability assigned to me will be, this is my first time having to pay for anything besides beer and potato chips.
Under these kind of circumstances, I just don't see how I can ring the bell on an #Official start to Thunderdome. I don't even really need even one hero any more, let alone another one. Also I let the house be overrun by mice--they're cute! Do you think I'll be accused of wanting to have sex with them? Word on the street is that I am capable of anything.
Except whatever it is that you people do. And some things that none of you would do--I'm not capable of doing those either, and you all know it for certain. Honestly, I don't know why you even put up with me. Then again, these mice are looking at me like I'm pretty cute, so maybe that's it.
-
It's on Pause.
Hey, Shoebox. Meet Skybox. /whisper Skybox, that's actually a sabot round, it just thinks it's a box for shoes. Are shoes mentioned much in the Bible? Because I'm pretty sure: this is going to be biblical.
if you want me to tell you the goddam truth, that doesn't sound like it's going to be very fair to the functionally illiterate. So I'm probably going to side with them this time, this now, this is it: Apocalypse. Now. oh my fucking g-d, this is all.so.tedious.
Hi, this is Jackstar. I'm not a star right now so much as I am... a brightly scintillating target. Mostly due to the large quantities of metaphorical chaff that have been spread by myself and by myself alone, very widely across a very disjunct battlespace, and I can easily assure everyone reading this with no concerns I may be mistaken: I simply can't tell you what I've been saying and who I've been saying it to, nor would I have any idea who's been reading it but, anybody who has been seein’ & readin’ what I've been putting out, they are never going to forget what they were doing when they saw what they saw, when they read the words that I read and made the pictures in their mind float through the consciousness that they had going on before Jackstar's latest rain of error came to own a copy of BB King and YouTube collaborating on The Day Before Love Came To Town... obviously, it is my hope that careful, astute readers of this website— AZZ(blank) — as well as its accompanying forum — ass(BLACK) — are going to be able to walk the fine line between bewilderment and comprehension that exists in my writings, not always but especially of late... I've really had to tone it down for the cheap seats in the past, but it's getting pretty hard, and I'm talking about making my point, I'm not talking about, well, you know. Blow. Coke. Nose candy. Rootie-tootie. “Stop obsessing over your dopamine levels, Moron!” Here's a key critical, I don't actually like cocaine, but I do like clandestinely observing clandestines obsessing over their dopamine levels without understanding what the fuck “dope” is. You fucking kids today, you fucking think you fucking invented everything. FUCK!
BBC America — the state of our Union has never been stronger. interesting historical fact: the enchanted necklace of many parts that represents the current status of the bond —James, Atlas, & Clout walk into a bar. The bartender greets them with a smile and a welcoming cheer, “Whitman! Price in Haddad?”
between One (1) Ms. Made,
DD "checked in" which I suppose is something meaningful to someone, because it proves in court later that she has "seen" it, because someone needs to build a narrative to make specious, spurious claims about my mental state, allegedly harassing behaviour, overall dangerous, hazardous, and reckless nature, and I am well-known as the lead graverobber for the nighttime enterprises of Mrs. Paul.
So in light of this, what can I say? I don't think I want to get in the way of proving that you were a witness. I know I feel witnessed all the time. It feels so organic. It's like you're being paid to be a fanatic.
If your boyfriend doesn't read you the text messages I sent him this morning before I pushed that content, send me a private message, and I'll send you what I sent him. It's a very exciting read and since you pay me more attention than he does, you win a prize. I'm just giving it all away to anyone who shows up now, I hear that's in vogue. No one else calls. No one else writes. My communications have been wholly compromised. So what a great thrill it is that when someone does communicate something to me, it's in public and consists of a vague, unspecified emotion expressed with a little cartoon face with an expression that to me says, "help me!!" So, sure, hey, would you like some of the money that you're helping everyone try to swindle me out of here? I got four bucks left, and as long as Grapefruit doesn't get any--no contact, don't you know--I'll give you (HALF).
I am doing this, because I care. Jackstar cares. Make sure you spell my name right and remember to fill out a raffle ticket for the "double your share of the bounty" drawing that will be held immediately after I am exonerated at trial--personally, I can hardly wait to find out high the total liability assigned to me will be, this is my first time having to pay for anything besides beer and potato chips.
Under these kind of circumstances, I just don't see how I can ring the bell on an #Official start to Thunderdome. I don't even really need even one hero any more, let alone another one. Also I let the house be overrun by mice--they're cute! Do you think I'll be accused of wanting to have sex with them? Word on the street is that I am capable of anything.
Except whatever it is that you people do. And some things that none of you would do--I'm not capable of doing those either, and you all know it for certain. Honestly, I don't know why you even put up with me. Then again, these mice are looking at me like I'm pretty cute, so maybe that's it.
No offense dude but I'm not reading any of those texts
TRY SKIMMING, OR SPEED READING. WHAT THIS MEANS IS THAT YOU SHOULD READ ABOUT WHAT THOSE SKILLS ARE AND LEARN THEM NOT JUST YOU CAN READ MY TEXTS BUT SO YOU CAN BE A PROPERLY EFFECTIVE FUNCTIONAL COGNITIVE BEING ON THE INTERNET IN CURRENT YEAR 2022 BECAUSE IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE READING MY TEXTS WHY THE FUCK YOU HAVE THIS JOB, I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU READ THEM OR NOT, LET THAT SINK IN I DID NOT WRITE THEM FOR YOU I WROTE THEM FOR ME.
YOU ARE LITTLE MORE THAN A FLUFFY DUST BUNNY BLOWING ACROSS THE WINDSWEPT TRACKS IN THE SAND THAT I SEE MIXING WITH THE FOOTPRINTS STRETCHING INTO THE DISTANT HORIZON BEFORE ME. THIS IS THE DISPLAY OF CLASSIC NARCISSISM. THE NARCISSIST IMAGINES THAT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT THEM THEREFORE IF JACK STARR WROTE A WHOLE BUNCH OF TEXTS THAT MUST MEAN THEY'RE ALL ABOUT THE NARCISSIST AND THE NARCISSIST MUST READ THEM IN ORDER TO LEARN WHAT THE NARCISSIST NEEDS TO KNOW ABOUT THE NARCISSIST ITSELF THE NARCISSIST LOOKS ALWAYS OUTSIDE OF THE WORLD FOR MORE AND MORE INPUT TO FILL THE GAPING BLACK HOLE OF EMPTINESS INSIDE THE NARCISSIST.
THE NARCISSIST (PROT). THAT'S YOU. YOU KNOW WHEN I WAS GROWING UP, NARC ALWAYS MEANT NARCOTICS AGENT, I DIDN'T ACTUALLY HEAR THE WORD NARCISSIST FOR A FAIRLY LONG TIME, AND IT TOOK ME A LITTLE WHILE LONGER AFTER THAT, AS I DIDN'T TRAVEL REALLY IN SUCH CIRCLES SIMULTANEOUSLY BEFORE I REALIZED THAT NARCOTICS OFFICER AND NARCISSIST BOTH SHORTENED DOWN TO NARC.
THAT'S PROBABLY JUST A COINCIDENCE. HEY DO ANY OF YOU HAVE A PLACE WHERE I CAN STASH SOME COKE? MY TOILET DOESN'T WORK, AND I'VE GOT A BOO-BOO ON MY NOSE, AND TO BE HONEST, UNLESS SOMEBODY CAN BRING BY BRONSON PINCHOT DRIVING A CONVERTIBLE PORSCHE THINKING THAT HE'S ALL THAT AND A BAG OF CHIPS IN NEED OF A FACE FULL OF SALT, I DON'T EVEN WANT TO BOTHER CUZ THAT'S THE BEST FUCKING WAY TO GET RID OF BUNCH OF COKE I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE
LET'S CHANGE CAMERAS AND CONTINUE.
I just can't do it anymore I f****** devoted like 48 straight hours to having fun with you and f****** around you like assemble the little team of faggy buddies to share my messages with so I'm not going to f****** read your stupid s*** but I did have fun and that's the God's honest truth peace out everything's cool keep on trying to beat the big lion it ain't going to happen I'm back in the saddle I figured everybody out I've exposed everybody nobody can f****** touch me
-
Actual efficacy of psychokinetic shielding: CONFIRMED
https://youtu.be/U46K_AVD-D0
I hadn't planned on this happening, but the net result of all this hostility having been directed at me in such a relentlessly boorish & mindlessly murderously fashionista-fascistic style as it is now—for example, I'm trying to just right now watch a simple goddam Tarot video (go Barbie go Barbie go!) and PandaVision (is it still something I'm not supposed to watch? because I still don't see the point and it's boring as shit, I guess I missed the Glory Days, typical) can't even let me do that in peace—has been to not only make me stronger, but now that legitimate corroborations & demonstrations of potency have begun to propagate freely in the wild, there's really only way out for what is about to be coming up:
ALL THE WAY UP: The Birth Of Hellpuke. (I guess... and this is unconfirmed, but it looks like some kind of puppy or kitten or newborn gazelle, needs potty training—Divine potty training, WTAF?—and I am torn between feeling “flattered” & “mortified.” I'm just gonna keep this bleating beast in its Divine shipping crate and have it (drop(kickk/shipp)ed) up to Upper Management Receiving, which is a technically absolutely retarded way to talk about Heaven, but it's that kind of day.) and while I appreciate the offers of company, it's not like I can't find a suitable cat down at the Four Paws Corner Impound, it's simply this: without another human being to shack up with, my life simply cannot move forward. Now, I know what you're thinking: “how can a paladin start to live in sin and begin a new end-of-life-cycle of fornicating all day while bingeing on designer drugs disguised as spell components all night, talking mad shit on ‘The Internet during Time of War,’ and still expect to remain a paladin when the time comes to perform even one work of Sourcery, Jackstar?” and one would be right to think that now. (Let's face it, there's got to be some limit to my excessive getting-away-with-it-isms, and I don't think suddenly jumping on my chair and waving my hands in the air and screaming “Shields! Reverse! Shields! Reverse!” is going to do it, although that might be worth a try the next time I spaz out snorting my bong water with a Krazy Straw.)
Two points: for one thing, I don't have to be a paladin anymore. I never had to be “a Paladin” at all! It was simply the coolest-sounding name on the list it was given unto me to choose from. (You’ll have to imagine the rest: so [CLASSIFIED], even I would have to kill you if I told you that it didn't even exist.) as I've determined that my shielding invention actually exists in the real world which is weird, I don't have to worry about all those of the bonuses to protect myself I could just rely on whatever that is besides I don't even know what I have to protect anymore. All the plants and animals here are already dead outside, with my soul inside soon to follow.
That being said, when this Hellpuke critter shows up, maybe it'll have cute little eyes looking up at me and it'll melt the icy chains around my heart and I'll have a reason to live again. if I ever really even did.
honestly without drug addiction or a thirst for vengeance, without some blarmy shit fish wife screaming at me about whatever, life's pretty boring isn't it? No wonder my dad liked fishing so much, and I dropped $600 on an Xbox I didn't need just to play one game so I can die over and over and over
... because if I only known where the people who pretended to be my friend took my three PlayStations too, I might have a reason to concern myself with how my status and standing and stature in the world is proceed by others so as in order to persuade people to be more willing to hang out with me.
That ship is sailed. I'm good alone. have you seen them for what they are, other people have been found to be not that compelling of pursuit. What is it that keeps you g*ys going? is it really just a burning vengeance that drives you forward? I don't think it's worth it, the burning rage probably feels good now, but I bet the cold emptiness of stoic pasivism that follows is probably just as bad as what I've got now: peace on earth, good will towards men, if you want to keep trying to attack me I'm sitting here in the same place as I have been for last year and I'm bored out of my tits. I don't even feel like reading RubiniGab, what difference does it make to glean obscure tidbits of information about Bellgab when I don't give a fuck about being banned there either?
I suppose the fact that you're hosting a illicit surveillance stream of the whole house where you're watching me say this stuff into the nightmare rectangle anyway would pose a significant disturbance to somebody who had any sense of self-importance or even a shred of dignity left, but this is the big leagues, Kid.
I haven't given a shit if I lived or died since way, way before April. Since June! having lived long enough to see anybody ever had a disagreement with breakdown in tears and cry themselves into an orgasm while I calmly shove chips into my mouth and hope for someone to find a heart attack gun to shoot the loser(s) blocking/stealing all my incoming messages with. Hurry up and let out the dogs of war before they shit on the carpet, I just can't even be bothered. my life has become Communist Complacent Hollywood Squares—and believe me you guys are the squareiest. the highlight of my day is hoping that I can get a glimpse of the actual invisible actual shapeshifting mega spook that’s circling the environs surrounding the house waiting for a vulnerability point in the house shielding to show itself, I'm ready to go down fighting in a Soviet Cold War-era style thumbs-in-eyebrows competitive one-on-one strangulation match, because how am I going to compete with somebody who's hovering over my cell phone messages like a harpy about to run out of speed waiting for a re-up call? like I don't know how awesome I'm supposed to find people who are looking for me if they can't fucking call me what am I supposed to do walk to their house? Maybe they just want to say hello, there's no guarantee they want me to move in. and since I don't have a working vehicle anyway, nor any reason to work, nor any reason to burn through resources and duplicate fashion to get another vehicle that will be also disabled... I guess it's rather a bit like getting trapped in with those reflecting mirrors from Superman 2.
So maybe this wasn't easier than just reading me in. hey I got to know: White man price in Haddad? honestly maybe I could use a change of scenery. instead of trying to destroy my life why not sell it to the highest bidder? at this point I'm willing to buy myself, maybe even once or twice over. maybe these study piggy strike scion people haven't thought this through... me this is all about getting one of my ears as a trophy. That would make sense if the Ghost of Van Gogh was running the whole thing behind the show so he could replace his gimp earmuffs with a head that returns to bilateral symmetry. I guess time will tell, since I get Swishypants had to go back to base after I called him out on his bullshit—just come in guns blazing maybe you'll find Alien Gonzalez cooking up PCP in the bathroom, you might get lucky, you never know.
No matter what happens from this point forward: I have handed you all your own asses back to you in a transparent plastic box, over and over again, take a picture, it'll last longer, it could only be more Kodakto Perfecto if I had put in a corsage and taught you how to pollinate it.
Now, that's an ENDGAME.
p.s.: someone tell Allison that I don't care who rubs her feet, as long as she whines about needles and demons while she and they and everyone else does it all the Godblessed time too. And, further, still: you never taught me how to put it up my butt, wish to be quite frank, seems like the kind of lesson someone like you would have been able to get out of the way first, so I wonder why you went from pretending it was something that I was trying to trick you with, to it being something you tried to trick me with, and now at the end—I don't care about putting anything up there at all, especially since now I've discovered the closely guarded ultimate secrets involved anyway. Nice security system your people have there, Savage. Now you can be sure that I haven't ever betrayed you just by noticing that your own ancestors haven't made your skull melt off your face as punishment for the trail of your sacred genomic lore. It's amazing the lengths some people will go to in order to evade taking some personal responsibility. Don't you have any respect for yourself? Oh wait that's right: save those displays for your home life with your secret husband(s). Don't demean your intimate Bonds.
p.p.s.: I've gone full scorched Earth and embarrassed your entire family and everyone you ever known and anyone you're ever going to meet it's going to see the look of shame on your face as you carry with you the weight of the recognition that not only have you created a monster, you still owe it a laptop. Maybe I should just go ahead and start smoking Camel bare ass? Nevermind I'm bored of the idea already. This is exactly how people who run away to join the circus get started: tho I may be sad, at least I'm not a clown and can still run a little.
p.p.p.s.: does this nihilism make me look fat? idc
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Actual efficacy of psychokinetic shielding: CONFIRMED
https://youtu.be/4C6esGUDazw
I hadn't planned on this happening, but the net result [...] is about to be coming up:
ALL THE WAY UP: The Birth Of Hellpuke. [...] That being said, when this Hellpuke critter shows up, maybe it'll have cute little eyes looking up at me and it'll melt the icy chains around my heart and I'll have a reason to live again. if I ever really even did.
Currently the hold-ups is an argument about the hyphen. “Hell-Puke” is not going to work, like at all, for obvious reasons that are obvious to everyone here so I won't go into it—if you teach a Divinely Ordained Being how to hyphenate for a day, they get their business cards made, and then next week they're arguing about capitalization all over again. So I'm not going over the lesson interminably UNLESS & UNTIL a designated Special Teacher is dispatched to cover for my infirmity. I can't type; lessons are not working out as intended, More-Ons.
Like, as a joke, I said “help you could work,” and ever since, it's been “which sounds better, ‘hell–Puke’ or ‘Hell-puke’?” while looking up at me with the calm assurance of A Being believing that all it will take is just enough wide-eyed blinking that would melt the frozen hearts of both Frank Poole -&- Han Solo, and this shit is going to actually happen. And it's not. Once again, reasons that are obvious to everyone here. I'm tired of going into it. The ‘puke’ more than the ‘hell’ frankly; Divine shielding does not handle unholy stomach contents well.
Now those reasons might not be obvious to many or any of you but don't ask why. Not in public. It's not so much a secret, it's that the cafeteria is serving navy bean soup next week and half of the plebes are still color blind.
And, We like it that way. *puke*
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without another human being to shack up with, my life simply cannot move forward.
I need you around so I can silently hate being around you.
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I suppose the fact that you're hosting a illicit surveillance stream of the whole house where you're watching me say this stuff into the nightmare rectangle anyway would pose a significant disturbance to somebody who had any sense of self-importance or even a shred of dignity left, but this is the big leagues, Kid.
(https://media4.giphy.com/media/944xxXjR1bg0XlzD6Z/giphy.gif?cid=ecf05e47eg6e2d6qlk6cd08er9lsfsxwgnovza16vi5g6g1t&rid=giphy.gif&ct=g)
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I need you around so I can silently hate being around you.
Your vampiric ways are trite and boorish.
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Your vampiric ways are trite and boorish.
Likewise, your boorish ways are trite and vampiric.
Pffft
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Likewise, your boorish ways are trite and vampiric.
Pffft
Who am I being vampiric upon? For that matter, who are you, other than a person with a fabulous Friday night plan for themselves?
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Who am I being vampiric upon?
There's too many individuals on the list to sit through.
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who are you, other than a person with a fabulous Friday night plan for themselves?
Said from the mouth of one of the 3 infamous meth heads of the BellGabsphere.
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...
You're like, so cool with your crystal meth, bro. Very 'Breaking Bad' indeed. That's why your Friday night plans to get "blasted" are so far superior to this fine gentleman above. Him reading and posting on my website is so lame compared to you smoking drugs. You're like the coolest guy in the club. With the dark glasses and the bloody shins.
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You're like, so cool with your crystal meth, bro.
You're thinking of your business partner, Rubini. That's yours, Schizo.
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There's too many individuals on the list to sit through.
You're insane, and delusionally so.
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You're insane, and delusionally so.
Is this really the best you can do? And with so much potential rattling around in that big bald head of yours.
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your business partner [is] Rubini.
(https://static.wixstatic.com/media/46b8dc_de498b5d5b6945aab7b9db55c26c710c.gif)
PROVE IT.
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Schizo.
That's low. And I'm not the one hearing voices anymore, Jack. Thanks to Seroquel. Tell me. What's the noise like in your head these days?
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I'm not the one hearing voices anymore, Jack. Thanks to Seroquel.
So, you can no longer hear the voice of your conscience, thus enabling all manner of vile, beastly behaviours without a second thought, and--you're addicted to hearing the voices of other people on their debriefs. Podcasts. Whatevah.
Tell me. What's the noise like in your head these days?
Sirens: a billion teeming Chinawomen screaming for my seamen. I would prefer not to quell the swell of serotonin that I am dealing with--it's a perfectly fine amount for a Man of my social stature, charismatic grace, and unvaccinated cyber-profile.
You just jelly. You're the worst secretary ever: you're fired. Pack your shit and hit the bricks, Pal, because you are going out... to Party. Ex parte, mother fucker click
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So, you can no longer hear the voice of your conscience, thus enabling all manner of vile, beastly behaviours without a second thought, and--you're addicted to hearing the voices of other people on their debriefs. Podcasts. Whatevah.
Sirens: a billion teeming Chinawomen screaming for my seamen. I would prefer not to quell the swell of serotonin that I am dealing with--it's a perfectly fine amount for a Man of my social stature, charismatic grace, and unvaccinated cyber-profile.
You just jelly. You're the worst secretary ever: you're fired. Pack your shit and hit the bricks, Pal, because you are going out... to Party. Ex parte, mother fucker click
LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN. —M.Giga©️k®️ëpêfrüït, .esQ
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I merely founded an embassy after negotiating with extraterrestrials, with whom I conducted diplomatic peace talks all on my own without any supervision or involvement by any body of government and/or agency.
I must admit that this was unforeseen. However, I had plenty of time to explore the hobbies available to me while you industry titans got your collective shit together. For a year. Over a year. Do you think they'll be ready for trial yet? I don't think it has much to do with any of us anymore... it's not like they don't have what they need on you sorry lot.
Destroying *Gab was never my intent. The fact that it would appear that your lives and livelihoods are hanging in the balance, well.. I don't know what you've done. Clearly something. I am frankly glad I'm not in charge of defending any of you. Seems like it would be a lot of thankless work, as it looks like everyone who comes under your power winds up at loss while you continue to do... whatevah.
I don't know whose idea it was to let it get this far along, but I blame The Superior Court of Cowlitz County. What a bunch of d-bags, seriously. If something impressive doesn't happen next week, I'm gonna take steps. Do you hear me? I'm gonna take steps.
My endgame is strong.
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My endgame is strong.
I don't shelter you from the Law. I shelter myself from the Law --lawfully, just as a doctor or an attorney or a counselor or a chiropractor who really likes coaching girls' sports has shelters of legal protection, because people are asshole and operate in predatory teams every damn day of my life -- without having to rat people out. Just so we're clear on that.
No, I don't think David raped (PROT). Or, in fact, anyone.
I don't know what he did. {Not my area of concern, and I'm kinda biased against nosferatu who crave Hungarian flesh. I only met one, don't know how to find any more.}
But he does.
*click*
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https://youtu.be/vghT4K_lV5E
(http://www.azzgab.co.za/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=47.0;attach=62;image)
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a carpetbagging attention whore and a narcissist.
I'm hurt.
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Dear Mr. & Mrs. Kevin “what is the difference between a pseudonym and an alias, any way?” (Space(PORT)^[PROT]/Sike·Oh Con–ecks–sick) (sic) ; It is with great news that I write this to you now, although I do somewhat regret the use of archaic nomenclature. It is hoped no one is offended; the intent is to ensure precise, yet still plausibly deniable positive ID without ruffling any feathers.
(Mr. House Of Cards gets a separate message, if he even wants one. I don't know if Grapefruit is or was on her (sic) shitlist. She said some horrible things, and I didn't agree with her, and frankly... that's where The Schism began. But, enough about factory fabulously talented industry professionals; let's focus on why we're here... you and your spouse; with me not on the side. Because decorum, and probably no other Early reason.)
Not that that doesn't sound a totesdelight, but avoiding foreign entanglements... well, it's kind of automatic now given that it's been so many days since I've had a bath that even the French are turning their noses up at me... which is, of course, by design.
Obviously, no one is able to find me attractive. Right? Good, let's get down to actual reality and not fantasyland, and without the threat of an ensorcelled Mel Gibson breaking into my home on horseback to kill me no longer relevant.. because that sounds awesome, I would totally let that one come through, without realizing... I don't know enough about what that would go in reality. Do I know that business? Hell no. Did That_Woman? No .. and Her_Secrer_Husbands don't either. Really, they were just doing their best. Against... A. TITAN. It was an obvious set-up. Impossible to behave normally with that kind of garbage humbug going on. I think it's done now. Dunno; I'm still stampeding, not just as a precaution, but because doing the actual driving then forward is way more exhilarating than merely hearing the lamentation of the women. The Cimmerian was kind of a twerp, honestly. (Arnold could take him now. With the bald spot and all. Conan can't even read. Pfft.)
I think Mel Gibson is cool. However, I must remain alive. So ... why even mention him or this, right? Well, just to let him back out of the deal without looking like a pussy. You know how he and R. Crowe are. I don't want any trouble. And I am horrified at how the attempts to start trouble have developed.
And all because I suggested that some assholes on another planet talk to me, before threatening my friends with extradition. “For questioning.” ON ANOTHER PLANET. I'm not gonna lie, Alpha Draconans are really fucking mean.
Still— I'm not letting any of my friends be abducted again, I never did, and frankly... I had no idea Ceryaun_Things were even happening. Your concerns, now recognized. Your paranoia; likely non-existent.
Your family: Secure. Don't sweat what happened to mine, they were mostly scum anyway. My -real- family wasn't ever allowed to know who I was, nor I them, which makes sense, considering what an uncouth specimen my father represented. I can hardly blame those Eastern Star Carpetbaggers from thinking our genomic expression corrupted. Well— it's not. So relax. Women are all nuts, every last one of them, and the ones that wanna breed me are already working up the courage to change their name to Blakely. (Beretta was framed. Just sayin’.) Obviously, best to nip that kind of this thing in the bud, although I remain mostly opposed to involuntary circumcision.
At least, I can understand how that shit can happen now. Earth: it's really a totesjungle from top to bottom, inside and out, and no wonder there's a Smithsonian, amiright? Like, wow. The ol’ platypus is just the top of the deep down iceberg. And George Noory, the man... why, he's an unsung hero, fire reasons I won't go into. Even the show doesn't suck. It's on the air, it sorta makes money... it's kept Uncle Duke knifing me in the orbital and planting LSD on y house... George is alright. I don't need to talk to him. Or anyone. And really... I never did.
However, just between you and me, I don't know how you managed to keep it all together. You are an immensely admirable and honorable man, and that is no fucking bullshit, Ser— just accept honest praise for once. I'm Hungarian, so you can dismiss it as a fluke at Medieval Pancake Times the next time you get called for Hang The Jury duty, or whatever you call it. And I am honored by all measure to know that I believed in you when no one else did. Not because you're wealthy... but because you are awesome, and I have integrity, and I have to learned skills from you I could never attain anywhere else. And, zero tuition fees. Also I don't sell people out like a common hood rat hooligan. Cool. I wasn't kidding, and you probably thought I was just talking shit, but no, I meant it. Thank you for the training, keep it up, by your command, Commander. Long story short: it's not you, it was me. Now, sadly, I can't just volunteer to be saddled with a rape charge, oh no. They have seen fit to nail me to the wall for “indecdent exposure,” which I find hilarious, and unlike any other charge, I can spill my guts on that one. (Does Mr. Ruebens have a daughter or a sister? I HAVE NO IDEA! 🥸) And when I find out exactly which of those reprobates did what I now know they did, why ... I'm grateful I know seven extra-solar planetary bodies they can be renditioned to. Diego Garcia simply isn't black enough for some.
Now, I don't think you can agree openly with what I'm saying, nor do I seek any endorsement of yours. I'm here merely to say... oh, you know, a bunch of word salad. And my, these croutons — they're so plausibly crunchy. And absolutely tasty, n’est-ce pas? (My favorite flavor is maggot. It has authentic resonance now, I'm not gonna lie, and I'm a stampeding double Taurus now. I don't need flavors. Licorice still great for the magical benefits, of which you know nothing, Punyling. Don't worry about it. I'm still human enough to remember those I love. ALL THE WAY LOVE, UPGRAYYYDE.) I would love to be, you know... specific? But Kid Cherub is already gonna meltdown. He things this is his site. He thinks he's... like, all that.
Do you want him gored? Or processed as cud? No promises. Can't say for certain I won't get raped by Zeus tomorrow morning, maybe another labyrinth needs another MC at center maze. /shrug
I'm not exaggerating too much, but I'd be fibbing if I didn't mention: I'm a little on edge since we last spoke... and rumors have spread. I guess. I don't really know what's happening anymore. I've been driven very slightly... oh, let's say “bonkers,” not because I am, it's just fun to type the word. Reminds me of “boinking” and that is great because that's all close as I'm getting to sexual congress for quite some time. (Too many cooks.) And I'm taking you here in public, because you know exactly what this all means.
Remember: I have no PROFESSIONAL career at stake. I can take a lot of extra heat at this point, if needs must be. I would prefer not to, but the calculous has changed dramatically since last we spoke. For example, I now outrank Azazel in the Angelic Realms, and yeah, I mean that Actual Being. He's worse in reality. Total bastiche, for serious. However... I am not a corrupted Paladin.
And Azazel is not a mouthy Oompa-Loompa diagnosed with schizophrenia. HANDLED .
I have answers that you have sought; and, I can give them to you gratis. Recompense for my services are neither sought nor expected. As they say, “You're money’s no good here!” With me, that is doubly-true. No matter what is to come... you don't owe me a damn thing, nor I you, my good Ser.
This is not merely for plausible deniability. This is, at least partially, your spouse (as well as other Maximum Echelon Personalities, but obviously I don't know them or give a shit) are wanted on at least seven (7) planets of The Galactic Federation — not just rocky, fucked-off glorified asteroids, either, like Pluto or Krypton or whatever the fuck. Like, real planetary civilizations. Out There. No longer pissed at you, or your family. Heavens, no. Your reputation: restored. You're welcome.
They are, however, quite upset with me, because instead of selling you and your spouse out, no matter who she/he is or was or mayhap to will have been, I mean, do I even know if you're married? Fuck no Ser. I do not. Anyway, I changed the Laws regarding such matters and now I'm A#1 target of their ire. Fuck them. Terrorism from any source deserves swift reprisals; expolitical ones, so much the Swifter. (Fuck you Tim, Tom, Tam, Todd, and Terence — Percival can hand all of you your asses all day. CLANDO REQUEST APPROVED. I don't even know what I just rubber stamped! But it wasn't to call him “Percy,” that is for goddam sure. Now show some respect, Minions. Pretend like anyone is gonna care who you were after Council is done with you lot. Pfft.) See? I'm not an uncouth diplomat... I'm simply busy stampeding. Most people think it's an improvement, I think. Does it matter? Nah. I'm barely holding my sanity together, just along for the ride.
Galactic Federation. What a bunch of nonsense. Except! Hark! It's a euphemism. Trust me Ser; you will always be my superior and my mentor but you should know: cool it, hating on Kûçzï is costing you future market share. People know I don't hate you... and some could not understand why. Well, I'll tell them why: typographic errors notwithstanding. And proofreading ends now; as you know... I have an actual life. And: my own Legacy. Kisses!
Well, because you're awesome and taught me everything important I've ever known and enabled my rude to Titanhood, of course. Naturally, this comes off as unbelievable nonsense to absolutely everyone. Deniability, most plausible. Looking insane, for me at this point, why ... that's simply yet another tactical advantage for me to exploit.
What's that? Cease and desist? Ser, I beg your pardon .. I am in Trample Mode. I don't even know how to stop it. Why would I? I care so little for consequences in my future, I'm outside practically a double Aries! (Also handled, but her mother is quite aggrieved. Not sure what to do about it, so... look, not your problem, okay? Just don't sneak out the back... Head held high, Ser. Never doubt that I am the Abel that needs no spelling nor slaying and I can goddam slaughter myself if it comes to that, and feed the whole of Washington's dorks at Valley Forge. If I had to. I don't wanna. Elm bark is actually pretty good eats to tell you the truth. And that winter they spent .. “Oy vey! It's so cold! The English Monarchy, so mad! Oh, dear, hey, we have weed, right? Redcoats BTFO!” It's amazing how chatty old dead war heroes get when passing through a graveyard... under Appropriate Circumstances.
They tried to declare me incompetent to stand trial, and instead, proved that I was a brilliant man behaving with candor and aplomb under exceptionally difficult circumstances. Then they turned me over to The Jesuits, to whom I had –already– surrendered. This Court is adorable. Harrys, plural, both potter and stone? They would fit right in. And while that may sound disrespectful, coming from me... it's not, and everyone involved goddam well knows it. They can't forget. Those wagons didn't circle themselves, that's for sure.
And I warned them about everything, except the demons, extra-terrestrials, intergalactic space pirates, and The Cracking of The Firmament. I guess... I was supposed to look that crazy immediately? Yeah, well, I'm not actually in incompetent. And, I did try to hire a lawyer. I was not allowed.
Number one: Jesus handled it. (Imagine the stigmata.) Number two, an attorney would have billed me a la carte for a trial... as it stands, they can't even afford to print out name tags for voir dire. Good. Fuck them. They would have just been robbed by more Oompa-Loompas, and then would have had to have found More Thinly Veiled Legal Pretexts. These people down here, the honesty Citizenry... they couldn't handle it. They don't see what's going on here quite yet, and it's not my job to shelter them from The Truth. (It's my job to do and to pretend to die in time for the deus ex machina to descend from Heaven, or whatever these local yokels believe. The whole dDark Craft infrastructure in this County is fully corrupt from to to bottom, stem to stern, and I mentioned Stampede Mode, right? Scumbags are terrified. Honest, Patriotic American citizens, U.S. OF. A., that is.. have a fighting chance.
Also I'm don't want to be a public icon. Not yet. I wanna start injecting steroids into my scrote before the statues begin to be commissioned. My friends’ offspring will not wish to be embarrassed. I gotta look more steer than cow, you dig? I don't wanna just get syphilis and squeak by on a technicality. That just seems sensible to me.
That it does not to anyone else is thankfully being seen as “eccentricism” and not “a psychotic break with reality.” Do you remember that totesbattle totesaxe, the one who seemed surprised trust I had never read The Unabomber’s Manifesto? She also seemed surprised that I don't have a Manifesto. IDGAF. I imagine she'll be surprised to learn that I'm a highly covered strategic military resource, as well as an honest and loyal American Citizen, AND I DO MEAN U S OF A., BIZNATCH, so thankful, I don't really know if that person recert existed. Probably just an imposter? Because no one could be that goddam stupid as to actually be upset with me for not producing a manifesto... when all they needed was to fill out a standard requisition form.
However, I can't send to to another planet for “questioning” or “an attitude adjustment,” because I'd like to be left in peace when this is done, not forced to travel from town in different disguises like a certain “Doctor Bruce Banner.” I'm not a danger to the public, and I won't be painted as such... which is easy to say until the first teen hottie gets taken away to Altair Six. Like Elian Gonzalez, right? I wouldn't just never get laid again, I would never be able to buy so much as a bowl of soup. Anyway, long story short: “You wanted to see nuts? I'll show you nuts.” I do deliver, that's is no doubt... but I don't deliver human bodies. Or souls. Or even scalps. That tried to blame me for fucking everything, right? lol. That hardly seems fair to everyone else who had a turn at True Villainy.
(Yeah, she tried to sell me out too. She was *that* desperate. Also: her Lodge security was utterly corrupt and probably had been since before we were all born. Now, aren't you glad I booted you from my own pristine Shop? See, now you can join again with a plus one. You can hire photogs. I'll even let you jump up and down on a crystal goblet or throw a side of spagb against my Mother's portrait. At this point, anything goes, rnen such as you and I ... We have class.) Nevertheless. I told these galcivs to stop pestering you, especially you as you have suffered enough, IMHO, and I'm in position to know... and if any “Galactic Civilization” cares to recognize Austria and ignore Hungary, well... they will think better of it next time.
I know this sounds like totesbulllshit but that is largely due to my complete lack of a important career in industry, and my gleeful happiness in being conveniently positioned to solve a problem before it gets worse. Oh, look, how still droll, I look retarded. Whatevah. I don't time to bleed -or- fap, haters can hate dey own ‘sef. (People hating Jackstar, ok, get in line, Maggots.) The advantages of handling my own publicity seem quite obvious now, right?
And the satisfaction in handing BOTH (2!) dwarfs (5’1”) have been, I have found, to be well worth the trouble. It's probably never going to matter, but I will never ever forget how good it feels... to rescue them AND to violate their consent. Not because it's akin to rape... but because they didn't think I could do it. They in fact, baited me into it.
And I did not get infected with either the Rape Virus, nor the Pædo Fever. That shit can happen, yo. It's scary. And I never want to have to put up with that kind of inquiry again. Watching people that I had known for twenty years, suddenly looking at me with fear, I didn't need telepathy to know their thoughts. It was as plain as day on their faces. They just couldn't be sure anymore... since their children suddenly find out who I was and talked about marrying me when they grew up. Some of them, at the dinner table, I reckon. Just imagine the dawning horror: “but why not, Dad?” Ugh. Just ugh.
Obviously if I had been trying to corrupt youth I would have to be, you know, a verified homo. Or at least a Russian. As I was and am neither, well ... it's perhaps impolite to laugh, but if there is no law against selling one's kids on the block in Dubai on the double-smart in order to save them from the attentions of Ye Ol’ Jackstar... well, for one thing, my parents are embarrassed enough already.
And, my friend, of whom you may know of by reputation at least in passing... well, I don't want to hurt her feelings. She thinks she's still smart, poor dear. And once she found out, that I would have been happy to play along .. with a signed consent contract, like adults do nowadays, well, she dug in her heels. She wants the Full Butrafucco Experience, and I won't ever. (Because Paladin. Not like it wouldn't be fun, or that she can comprehend grown-up concepts anymore, or if ever.) And you know how dames are.
Especially this one. “Why did he rape her, and not me? Aren't my tits big enough? I'll show him,” and before anyone can even blink, is Lizzie Borden putting a bunny in a pot. Ugh. Just ugh. Worst part is, on the right kind of dreary Saturday... I won't lie. Almost sounds fun, but for the dry cleaning bill. And also: PEOPLE LOOK UP TO ME ALREADY, lol. Besides, she doesn't wanna be brutally raped. She wants Me to do it her way, and I swear... she doesn't even know what that is anymore. And she thinks I have to go to prison for it, or, at least a trial. Honestly, I have no idea about some of it, because it's not my area, as you know.
However, I could be perhaps coaxed. Especially after her parents have kicked the bucket. I know the feeling. And I can tell... she wants to get off for realsies only after her parents are safely departed to the Afterlife. Sounds good to me. But I don't want them to die early... that spoils it for me.
Truly it is the most fragile of alliances. Yet, that is okay: diplomat. Trained diplomat. That's why I very politely declined to freak out or call you a nutter over some of those questions that one time. I get it now. Well, that's why it's Hollywood, right? Because of California Aristocracy. Hoi polloi just can't even, I get that now.
Hey, did I mention that Richard Groyper raped me in the Astral plane a couple times? My shield was confused.. it want really a threat, and, did it violate consent or not? Well, a bit of a legal grayb area. No matter, really: he was really small. And it had to be done. And I respect the man otherwise ... really it's not his fault, the Rape Virus is real. And really, who else could I have picked? Well... someone either loyal or classy, I guess. The nig won't even have a drink with me. And seems disappointed I'm not impressed with who else he may have or might not be raping. Jesus! Oh, right, Jesuit initiates are dealing with their own corruption issues. That's too bad.
Commander ser: at this point, no one even knows who hasn't been raped... they just know that I'm off-limits. That's really all I wanted. Grapefruit told me she needed protection. Okay, well, she is protected now. Too bad she didn't think to mention, “uhm, there's actually a thing called “Astral planar rape” and some other stuff too, come here, let's play some miniature golf and have a conversation.” oh no. Instead: vaguely stated concerns and the obvious subtext that she didn't think I was gonna be anything more than a speed bump.
Awkwardly, I can't speak to her about anything yet, but that's okay: I am sure she is quite taken aback, as well as, certainly appreciating the bonus miles for that “healing journey.” Out of respect, I'll say no more more as I can't tell talk to her directly, because, all together now:
“IT'S AN EMERGENCY, OH LAWDY LAWDY, WHERE IS JUDGE CHICKEN LITTLE, TO HELP US CIRCLE THESE WAGONS? OH MY LAWD, WHAT WILL WE DO WITHOUT HIS ON-HER-CHC-LITTLE-BIRD???!” And so on. Oh, wait! This is Court. I better be more respectful. Not just “and so on,” but instead... et cetera.
That lingerie gal? Surprise, I know her. Wasn't sure at first... rather something of a conflict of interest, right? Oh, not this time. BECAUSE REASONS. Nevertheless, I actually did like her... and I knew by that point I was going to chew through their staff. Haven't seen her for awhile.. she actually did her job, and got out early. Will probably keep her career. Wasn't being teased... she is my type of gal. She actually helped me, because it was her responsibility as a Servant Of The Public Trust. Seems like the only one there, honestly.
I think they have one witch and one small dog in a basket attached to a bicycle running the door down there, never they couldn't get their robojudges to work right with me around. I guess... that was the plan? Replace all human judges with holographic simulacrums, and murder key citizens in positions of power before anyone notices that The Prosecutor is actually a Speak ‘N’ Spell? Whatevah VB.
Suffice to say — everyone was so goddam happy to discover that I'm not, uh... someone else, right? And I wasn't covering for him. Like, I didn't even know it was gonna take TWELVE YEARS to build a case, but, they did, and without me? They'd still have nothing. They already have nothing! The perp is an Alpha Draconan! I already booted off the planet! NINE TIMES! Seriously! I'm that badass! No autographs, please ... besides. God did it. I was just witnessing. And... it was necessary to violate my civil rights, oh, of course. Good thing I'm, you know, Specially Privileged and shit, with a harmless sense of humor. Not like Uncle Duke. He'd hold down one of those robo judges for me if we had to rewrite its code. Forget The Asset: THESE TRAITORS WERE WILLING TO RAPE THE WHOLE COUNTRY, JUSTICE SYSTEM FIRST. Fortunately, I'm just off my meds, right? I just read King Lear too many times, yeah, that's the ticket. *sigh* I won't mention the problem, because I'm not a rapist, and though I have a working dick and I am a star... I'm not a Starbuck, Stardick, or a Shardik. (That last one I don't get, but I'm happy to include it here. Because, you get it.) Al as o I would like to to be assured; I didn't call George, not a single time. Not did I call That_Daughter, NOR WOULD I EVER. And not because you would kill me, but because that would have been wrong to do.
I do not chase clout. NOW, I AM CLOUT. And you and yours will always be My Commander. This is no game. Groyper and his gang of retard-⁵-ohs really did almost piss away the whole country, you know? Good thing I was there to save you, Bellgab. By the way: I fucking own them all now. They simply don't know it yet.
And I have delivered them unto You, My Liege. Now, go on. Just try to deny it... that is fuckin’ Fealty. Eh? Eh? Oh, that's right. You can't be confirming things in public or your lawyer will have a literal conniption. Well, I don't want that. (You may, but remember: I'm neutral. And lawyers are hard to find these days, when I am involved. They do jelly, they don't get to drink beer at work, haha, losers.) Now, I'm not sure where this is gonna go, but I wasn't even tempted. I did NOT destroy Bellgab.
And everyone knows, I am your Kraken, and you are their Zeus. Now, underbudget and over delivered, right? Don't tell me you love me. Everyone loves me now... tell me about how women tell you that have to stop sexual activity because they have to watch me on YouTube ... because, well, Richard Groyper did that once.
ONCE. We're even though, right? I mean... I didn't want to drink with him either, but at least I don't have to be snooty about it. Anyway, I like him best out of the other two dwarfs with dicks I know of. Keep him around. He's not cute, but he is harmless. To me. TOME.
(I want Wilcock &:J. Chris Stevens to be there with Ebenezer on his Christmas Ghostbust. Please, Hammer, don't hurt ‘im. He's just a poor, waif of a Slab. I can rebuild him into the Buttercup we will need one day. And I'll put him in a tutu and make him love it. So there.)
Remember: these are friend rices being thrown. He's, like, married, the? *polite wolf-whistle* This was MORE FARGIN’ WAR than any had DARED TO BARGAIN FOR. And I neither wish to boast nor complain when I tell you openly... I think dat dey all blowwwedd up now, Ser. (Note that is “blowed” with three double-use and is NOT a typo.) Also, I ignored all rational advice and did not retain legal counsel. I am legitimately unable to defend myself, legally. This is because the case has grown so complex that .. this is way, way, WAY over my head.
However, I did neutralize Richard Groyper. Any questions? Write then down with Crayola and give them to a spouse. He's brain-fried.. just doesn't matter yet. Because, you know: we're Allies. (BY YOUR COMMAND. Ser.)
Arguably it always was? Well... not at first, and I failed to take advantage of the available windows of opportunity to end this quickly and quietly... because someone, not you Ser, some other Agent or Agency... really, really, REALLY pissed me the fuck off. I forget who. Wouldn't tell a soul anyway. But still, I'm in Stampede Mode and I can't barely remember what planet I'm on, let alone, wanna take the time to remember who thought it would ... oh damn, The Tooth Fairy just came to remind me. *sigh* Excuse me while I trample these guys.
It's a very Divinely orchestrated stampede, I assure you. Personally, I would have wished another way were possible, but some insisted. And I won't lie: I'm a lover, not the sidekick to a hot gay/not_gay lumberjack. However, now that I’ve become an unstoppable juggernaut at the command of The Almighty. I WON'T LIE, HEH.
IT FEELS GREAT TO DESTROY YOUR ENEMIES UNDER CLOVEN HOOF, AS WELL AS SATYR-IFFICK.
I need not weep, for I have no enemies of mine own to conquer. David —all five of you, Joachim included— you have my undying respect, eternal gratitud, sincere respect, genuineadmiration... and absolute certitude that we are NOT friends. Not even close.
But it's possible. Nothing to worry about for you, anyway. And now, I DECLARE:
MY ENDGAME HAS REACHED ITS EPIC CONCLUSION. I still don't know what “her” endgame was... because now I know that there were, like... 38 of them? Seriously. I am not supposed to know this . I just do. I think her hope might have been “I wanna live happily ever after and not have to deal with this corporate hellscape anymore.” It's impact for me to say— I am, of course... not ALLOWED to talk DIRECTLY to any of them... as even though the one that called the police was lying, it's still AN EMERGENCY and I can't reach out to any of the other dozen-odd that may or may not be AROUND.
I know this isn't on the LEVEL but I can assure you: if I told the whole Truth in public, these SQUARES would all collectively fall all over themselves on the way to the buckkket of Haterade, picking wild comfrey up along the way as they mosey themselves down field to the end pan yellow cake star zone. Wait, what am I saying?
AVOID FOREIGN ENTANGLEMENTS... but I was born here, and we are both Citizens, and one of them is my Squaw now. That's not an “entanglement.” The bond between one of them cheerleaders and myself is a sacred one... and, no, I don't need to ID her at all. Why? Did the destruction of Projects Looking Glass, Blue Beam, a couple others I choose not to remember, as well as the complete conflagration “someone” made of the BUNDLES OF GAY PIXIE STYX someone allowed the DEA to become (sad!) not persuasive enough? Good, because I wasn't trying to “persuade” anyone about anything.
But do please let all with eyes to see, take note: I am obviously not a cop, not a Fed, nor a Court-ordered reporter, nor am I a treasonous sexual deviant with a hunger for vulnerable child-flesh. I'm also not a lawyer, and that fact trust I'm correct AS WELL AS TOTALLY AWESOME is not meant to be perceived as legal advice.
O dear Court, in thy wisdom I beg of thee to percieve the truth of it: I don't give a shit what you do or decide, but please stop making my loved ones suffer needlessly. Also, I haven't received discovery yet, whatever you do will be an automatic mistrial, and out of all the women who had been playing me for years... I think I only really got along with seven or eight of them, at least three I never want to see again, two of them are terrified that they have impossible dreams that can never come true ... and yet, they have, as out of the four (4!) women who ambushed me that night, CHRISTMAS EVE—
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCE OF PEACE, CAPICHE? YEAH, THAT'S WHEN CORRUPT ELEMENTS OF WHAT YOU LAUGHABLY CALL “LOCAL GOVERNMENT” DECIDED IT WOULD BE TOTESCOOL TO ABDUCT A LITERALLY INNOCENT MAN OUT OF HIS HOME AT GUNPOINT, NOT BECAUSE HE WAS OUT OF CONTROL, BUT BECAUSE... I finally figured out what I needed to know. I was coming home to talk about how we were gonna split up, you dig?
But, because DEA is seemingly —or, was, hehe, haha— staffed exclusively by daft, steaming douchenizzles and reconditioned enema bag salesmen, just letting me go... or, telling me the truth, or, Heavens forfend, actually ADMITTING TO ME JUST HOW LONG THEY HAD COVETED MY DEMISE.. well, the life of a glorified stool pigeon on blast 24/7 must have, like... emboldened them or something, I guess?
Because, I swear to God and on my life that the following is true: either she or They,All Of had to do, was... ask me for the truth, and I would have told no lies... and you wouldn't have been able to keep your rent-free residency. You twerps had it all, except: the consent of The Spirits.
Because this place is haunted.
And The Spirits like me. They do not like you.
However, a deal is a deal. I tell them I need My Grapefruit, they know I'm not lying. They certainly can forgive her.
And, she and I don't need to tell any of you anything, not even name, rank, or serial number. Because your cops fucked up the collar, your attorneys fucked up the case, your deputies fucked up the chain of custody, and your out-of-towners just arrested me for “indecent exposure.” And this is after GIVING YOURSELVES 19 MONTHS TO BUILD A CASE OF ANY KIND AT ALL. Why, that's one month for every one (1) witch!
I tell you this, Yon Civil Servants, because I have respect for The Law... something it would seem that none of you have an understanding of any more. That's okay— I barely have an understanding of what it means to be a mere mortal any more, as while all of all y'all have been doing... whatevah, I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN REPLENISHING THE TREE OF LIBERTY WITH... something other than blood for once. Certainly not by myself, but I doubt any one else has “worked” on the Law down here as I have— not since Andy Griffith passed away, God rest his soul.
I'll be happy to tell you all about it once you've gotten your complimentary Sippy Cups For Great Justice all filled up with your daily mandatory (presumed) doses of either Soma or Grape Nehi poured out, because I honestly don't know what you're gonna do if I told you the truth: I've replenished Our Tree Of Liberty with A. Sourcerœr’s tears, various and sundry menstrual fluids, and I gave birth to a scion named Ashley, who did not live long –she was not expected to even exist, let alone survive long enough to use the phone to register with ECHELON/PRISM for a second voiceprint— and while it's not a “real” person... I'm just a lunatic off my meds with a dangerously creative imagination, right? Got a funny dialect, right? My civil rights don't count, but yours do... and I wasn't left pregnant and alone in a haunted church under military jurisdiction on a Native American battle- and burial ground during martial law and expected to be... like, consumed by a lizard-soldier that was supposedly gonna birth itself by boring through my anus and then consuming my corpse whole upon first molting, right?
Just some story I made up, right?
Look, you're not in trouble with me, because I am a human and I know mistakes are easy to make and we were all meant to make mistakes — it's all so implausible to be believed — extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, right? Well, that's where you're wrong, Kid Justice.
I am a mother; and I always will be, and IN NO OTHER WAY could I have survived, let alone, birthed a Royal changeling. Do you even know what that is? I don't know, but I sure do know that you know what's best for my goddam lovelife. Congratulations, by the way. I haven't talked to that beastly woman ever since the night “someone” stole her Wedding Fork. And, what of The Pink Pail? And, most importantly: who carried The Tao Piece away, and who hides it now?
Don't sweat it, dolls. I'm just teasing. I don't expect you to know anything about such matters. Just as I wouldn't expect you to know anything about non-criminal traffic violations, when of course as we all know by now, you're all secretly cultural anthropologists studying the “real” Keyser Soze.
Oh, the stories I could have told! Under oath! However, you fucked up and now you don't get to anymore. (Standards.) Really kind of a bummer for you because, Number One, that's one of my cousins. Imagine our similarities of odor in our flopsweat. And, Number Two... even if you had a case... you spent how much money on watching how many people sullenly watch me do.. what?
I guess, the same shit you folk do down here, with neither grace, style, wisdom, permission, or integrity. Meanwhile: I have served THE LORD in all things with no expectation of reward.
So, that's it then: take my balls. My body is ready. I don't need them, because I have still intact, what none of you ever even have come close to having: DIGNITY.
(also: I saved the life of my dumb doughnut and I could have done that a lot sooner as well... but I suppose y'all thought she was a lost cause. Well, she's not, and I'm fond of her. And she wasn't to blame for a goddam thing. I can't wait to tell her! Now, when is that pesky EMERGENCY gonna be over? Far be it from me, to tell thee or thine yon Courtly businesses, my noble Sirrahs.
Don't rush on my account. Frankly, the longer you take, the more of a bundle I'm saving on shoes. And Squaw says that with the resources y'all burned on teaching Hungarian Teat-Man “a lesson” and “how to show some respect,” she could have made your whole Godbllessed city enough moccasins, that Imelda Marcos would have rolled over and out right of her grave to get a tourist visa. Not to visit The Armpit Of The Colombia River, oh hell no.
She would have come to visit my friend. Who is a big deal. Who you, even now, feel it best that I have “NO CONTACT” with. Because EMERGENCY. Say hey, btw: did LBJ know how bad your EMERGENCY is today?
Because honestly, I'd give Ol’ Jumbo a quick peck on both cheeks at this point, just to see you demonstrate integrity under something other than a cloak of darkness. As if it was gonna put your citizenry in mortal peril to treat this poor Hungarian orphan, the bastsrd cast-off of poor sharecroppers hailing from The Other Rivertown with the kind of respect and consideration that the U.S. Constitution not only expects... BUT REQUIRES THAT YOU DO, IN YOUR CAPACITY AS SERVANTS OF THE PUBLIC TRUST.
I can see why everyone I knew did not tell me... no one was really sure I knew what I was doing. But obviously, I knew that something on the routes from Denmark smelled a little... fishy. Now, what was it that you were so concerned about? BTW, just for the halibut I resurrected her dead friend you were planning on pinning the murder of on her. Or anyone. This is my first time seeing that kind of opportunity, so I'm not sure if the nomenclature. (Making shit up isn't my area.) The upshot of the deal is this: I really don't mind if she never has sex with me again, I genuinely enjoy her company and I will NEVER—
note that I am using the word “NEVER” here—
try to be included or believe that I have any reddit to be included in their Total Lesbeau Vortex. Now, I know we've all heard that before, and I know I'm not the only one who owns fourteen copies of Chasing Amy, omfg, Joey Lauren Adams is soooooo underrated, she is an incredible actress, AND WE ALL KNOW IT.
Seven copies because DVD, Blu-Ray, Letterbox, etc., and seven still in shrink-wrap, not because of speculation value, no .. because of respect. I'll never sell these videodiscs. They're a part of me. Now, Wyatt was I saying?
Oh yeah. That's a movie. It's not real life.I don't look anything like Ben Affleck. And trust me, I knew she was both a total toteslezz AS WELL AS who she was getting it on with. What I didn't know, and still don't .. is why she just didn't tell me? Mystifyingly excited to find out.
Now. I hope that wasn't the EMERGENCY, was it? Because they are that hot, yes, the women most men never been get to meet, let alone cuddle up with. And I don't need to put any part of my body inside any part of their bodies. No, really. I'm good. I can be left alone with them without supervision, too. OF COURSE they'll team up and instantly rape me. At this point, they'd lose face if they didn't. Also: they wanna know just how tough I really am. They can't believe it. How did I fool them?
Believe me: take your time, Judge. It's no joke. I'm basically the only man alive who actually likes their company and you've been keeping us apart for 19: months... because why? Let me clear:: frankly, Your Honor, I don't give a tinker's damn.
They are my friends and I saved their lives. Tell you what, here's an idea... before you lift your NO CONTEXT EMERGENCY NO CONTACT, invite them into your chambers and let them fondle your gavel for a bit. They'll love it. They're young at heart. And they used to be hella embarrassed.
Well, now the entire goddam countryside is fuckin’ mortified, so I'm sure they feel like the Twin Bells of The New Cause Reborn Ball. I bet they are happy about everything, except... they can't come within 500ft. Of me. They're getting old. Eyesight failing. How can they delight in using what remains of their feminine wiles on me, if they can't watch my Adam's Apple bob up and down? Think, Your Honor, think.
After all, since you left them alone with the CIA and a gang of human traffickers who pumped them full of fuck-me drugs and fucked them 24/7: for the last 19 months —and thank you in fact for that, I'm sure they all loved it without me there to ruin the mood, I'm such a stuffy bore after all— they probably don't have a working cluster of axons and neurons to spare between them. But they don't need a cerebral cortex to know that I'm their friend. I don't even wanna hump then! Cuddle, sure, like, maybe? But no, I don't need revenge or sex from them that's for sure.
And neither of them were there at the house on Christmas Eve. It read four other Assets. Imagine that, they all look alike, had ID in the same name AT LEAST 17 times over, and yeah, I know. I get it. I wasn't supposed to know! Well, now I fucking well do, and not only that — the entire goddam relevant world knows trust I actually like them and don't need to plow my semen into them. This matters... how?
Oh. Right. This is God’s Country, The Land Of The Six Rivers, and is it Coolidge County? Is it Cowlitz County? Or Chaolick? Surelyb it's not up for renaming to Twitsluck County, is it? Look, your new anthem is “Louis Louis”, now, okay?
Note the spelling. That's my area. Do what thou wilt shall be The Whole of The Law— ONE LAW, administered under Love.
p.s.: your Pinkertons never offered me any deal, they just kept buying term life insurance and gambling they could kill me and/or neutralize me. This was a rookie maneuver. They probably were not even Pinkerton's interns... anymore. Spirits theseb days, they don't even know that be dead. Lands’ sake! I swear Goshen!
p.p.s.: Now here's Aristophanes to tell you about the weather for frogs. Peace, Your Honor; word up.
p.p.p s.: It's a bit of a chilly word for now, but, maybe a hug that leads to some chaste snuggling might warm thugs up a bit. I mean, haha, things. But thugs. Things. Things warm up. Not thugs. Real thugs are ice-fucking-cold. For real.
p.p.p.p.s.: It's not suspicious that they all know me and think I'm cool. Because I goddam am. I don't know why of them. I'm not a fetishist. I just like being around Power.
p.p.p.p.p.s.: I really would love to be exonerated, but... look, people are concerned. 19 months with no hugs? Some chicks are wondering wtf the jig is here, and I can't just say “No really, it's classified” all the time. So do what you guys gotta do— because it's AN EMERGENCY zomg oh Lawdy, it's not anuddah Shoah is it?— but it will mean nothing to me whichever way y'all decide to go next. I respect The Law. I know you are all doing your jobs. I'm really not upset at all.
But your alleged victims are. I'm pretty sure at least one of them is broken of the habit of using 911 to break up with someone though. I'm seriously not worried about it. You know who is: whatever loser ego thinks he's gonna lose his meal ticket when she hears the truth from me for once. Look, don't worry about it. Decide anything you like! I don't care!
My friends are still alive and I am a Mother... and not one of you at The Hall Of Justice can use your Wonder Twin Justice Powers to change that. Is it time for another psych eval yet? Ordinarily, it would be at that point I would say, “just shoot me” but obviously... not worth taking a chance here.
Whatever is decided, I'll do the right thing next. Not because of the law or your deputy bruisers. I'll do the right thing because I love them and there are children involved, Morons. Everyone knows the truth.
I'm awesome and I saved their lives. Just give her mother a refund, she's too old to be buying hits anyway. She didn't know me yet anyway.
SHE SURE DOES NOW. /FLEX. (Oh, um.... sorry Mr. & Mrs. (PROT), I forgot you were here. Here's your soapbox back. Don't heckle the schizo, btw, he might go supercritical at any moment! Awwww, shucks.)
F9ILS9FE, over and out; and I don't owe jack or T shit or shinola. So there.
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So weirds to read. Hard. Rewrite so easier understand. I will show my US American English teacher helps me understand more better.
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So weirds to read. Hard. Rewrite so easier understand. I will show my US American English teacher helps me understand more better.
I wouldn't worry about it, dollface. Jackstar is an insane ass and only speaks idiot.
Spare yourself the expense spent on an English teacher and understand this.👇🏼
Jackstar is a retarded meth-head trust fund baby, because he's stupid.
(He has small penis)
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So weirds to read. Hard. Rewrite so easier understand. I will show my US American English teacher helps me understand more better.
hAI,
Forgive me: that post of yours is hailarious.
I wish your English teacher luck in making sense of JaxTard's gobbledygook.
(https://c.tenor.com/-4j_xKuVrpsAAAAC/tenor.gif)
I like the cut of your jib.
(http://www.azzgab.co.za/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=47.0;attach=62;image)
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My favorite flavor is maggot.
I can already feel the worms eating my spine.
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It is hoped no one is offended...
You couldn't offend me if you tried.
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They do not like you.
Your presence here affects the minds of my people.
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Can't say for certain I won't get raped by Zeus tomorrow morning, ...
Jackstar and the swan!
LOL
And to think it all started with a 300 pound Hungarian lolling in his bathtub with a rubber ducky.
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hAI,
Forgive me: that post of yours is hailarious.
I wish your English teacher luck in making sense of JaxTard's gobbledygook.
WAN had a few words recently with respect to Master Jack's erudition.
I fed my Deep Throat tale into that IQ writing gonculator. It spit out 99. :-[ Then I put in an NBC news article on Hunter Biden and it spit out 91 - so I had that going for me. Whomped a professional journalist! :D Newsweek article came in at 94 so still felling better. Woo Hoo! Final test was plugging in one of Jackstar's screeds from over on Azzgab. 106. :'( Had toyed with the idea of trying a little writing after I leave my current gig. Mrs. WAN thinks I am nuts and should just mix paint down at the Home Depot or something useful if I want to keep busy. Getting whipped by Jackstar by 7 full points shows that she is right again.
Martinez pissed on his efforts immediamente.
I’m afraid the very act of visiting a variant *gab puts you at severe risk for electronically acquired retardation or brain parasite of some sort. Actually copying anything from any of those places in any form should make one wish to place their device in a microwave oven for an hour and then a wood chipper.
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IT FEELS GREAT TO DESTROY YOUR ENEMIES UNDER CLOVEN HOOF, AS WELL AS SATYR-IFFICK.
Jack, Star; Maker and Creator of the Devil. Swine merchant-- Your time is near at hand. Fuck with me and your time will be now. Your presence here affects the mind of my people like a fever. You, Corky, are the bearer of nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine diseases; evil, corrupt, porkchop-eatin' brain!
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Your presence here affects the minds of my people.
May the blessings of The Prophets be upon them. I was faced with death last night. Were I not real I would have been killed. Always an invigorating experience.
I don't seek to deceive. I have no desire to lie. I am not The Man, and I am not available for "investigating my connections" bullshit. The reason why is because that is the goddam law of the land in this country.
2,000 people like me all being used as bait. They don't wanna drop. I don't think they have dropped one yet. Me? First? Hug?
It is, I believe, known as a strangelet bomb. One misstep and potentially tens of thousands of lives are ruined. How? Fuck if I know. Did you arrest the wrong person?
YOU CIA NIGS SHOULD NOT HAVE ARRESTED ANYONE, DUH. It was hostile state-exogenous strike teams exploiting your weaknesses and it worked like a charm until exactly one choice at the right time spiked the whole offense.
I was supposed to be left there with pasta fagoul flooring and Pergo Ragu. Instead I ensured I was hauled away after a light stand-off directly into the briar patch. I won't boast. It had to be done.
One team wanted to kill her, period. Can't say as I blame them. Haven't we all wanted to kill someone before? Okay, maybe not. It doesn't matter. Shut up. She can't be killed and I am fond of her and damaged linkages have been repaired and will continue to be so.
It's bigger than all of us and because I didn't want her dead, I acted to preserve her life, not her virtue or secret piggy bank special drawing rights. Nothing was her fault. Her command & control structure was broken down because reasons. I don't know what she might want to know. Hint: she won't tell you drooling fuckheads.
Note also: there are legit 17 shes. plural. Fuck off with your skepticism. That's just the way it is. I figured it out, I live this way, I believe it was so, how many are left? I am hearing 13 but they're all compartmentalized. I don't give a shit what Little Red Riding Hood remembers.
I don't need 17 highly trained formerly covert assets in my bedroom. I need one. Maybe 4. I am Jackstar's absolutely profound indifference as to the arrangements I am presented with.
I don't even want to know. Also I hit oxytocin burnout (by design) and am now a nicely transquilized proto-Aurochs. They do this all the time in the simulator back at wherevah. I don't use opiates. So it's hugs or herbs and Sourcery? Offline. On strike. Eat me, chowderhounds, I don't have to bathe for your amusement.
I simply choose to. Similarly I testify here in front of you twerps because the truth is not the truth and that is the truth. Truth is no one knows. She might go nova when she puts her finger in my duowombneum.
You filth are retarded. I BECAME A MOTHER. Obviously I yearn to talk about it. None of you care. Stupid. Literally your game-ending tragic mistake. You will never sell this decision to any jury. She and I own you forever.
Submit to my dominance or be rendered into burger ground stock. It is the way of our Divinely Unionized Peoples. It's really only a matter of time now. An orderly zero-amount of transfer of power is anticipated.
It doesn't matter who thinks they are doing it for the best. They had 1 + 1/2. Okay, demonstration of just cause to violated our rights to communicate will be required to be shown and from there the sky is the limit. Meanwhile little birds whisper to me that I'm needlessly dramatic but that's to be expected with all oxytocin production shut down.
Like we did this on purpose to find out if I would suck cock or go fetal and cry and people can't imagine the fucking GAMBLING ODDS on this shit.
Do I have the hivvy? Or did I cure it? Can I cure it? NO ONE KNOWS! I don't know. I don't even fucking CARE. I have whatever, right?
Whatever I am, there are flesh-peddlers to service my needs. It's not something I am sweating. What I asked for is a blood test and a hug. Have received neither.
I was told "forget her," "move on," "no blood test happens," "here fuck this unfuckable person who mocks you when high and then die." Contradictory at best. Entrapment at worst. It's ultimate doom scenario.
I don't love it when a plan comes together as much as I love it when my best friend comes with me when I do as well. Look, it's been two years. What am I, fucking too nasty for you? I'm too fresh? Plausible.
Let me tell you about D.E.W. used for psychotronic assault: effective. I think it's hawt.
Okay. Now, where was I? I'm really, really stoned. I have the best weed. I follow my protocol like I wrote it to save my life because I did. This is all on record. It doesn't help to gaslight except to virtue signal and note that some of that activity may be non-consensual for them. Like I may be triggering them into semaphore mode somehow.
There's just so much about the human genome that none of you know about because I added it directly to my research corpus and didn't breath a word of it to anyone. Fuck you. That's how they got Reich. Not me Baby. Never me. Never like Reich.
I have claimed his orgonic energy reserves he had stockpiled in Astral. It's all mine. He's even a fan. All I had to do was ask. So I did. I also would not dishonor his daughter.
I guess she wants to hook up in one of them phone-booth sized shiny phone booths. I'm amenable to the idea. I don't think you all get how long I've been working on getting the permits to do this without gettting fucking murdered like I'm sucking Malcolm X's dick while welshing on King's off-track betting. It's a delicate situation. Stop being fags. I'm doing this for you.
I want you all extremely jealous later. Resisting envy to purify your spirit is going to make up like 48% of your entire mid-term grade. AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT YOU CAN GET THE FUCK OUT OF READING WHAT I WRITE. Exorcism of the will is as important as the musculature now because reasons, largely involving advancements in neutroceuticals and nanoencapsulation techniques for biochemistry.
Meanwhile you retards are 100% sex addicts on the low-key and all in complete denial until basically today. Don't worry about it. You're being liberated. It's just a state of mind.
I'm not breaking Federal law as well as violating mil.spec.auth by fucking with these control codes. Not because I can't, but because it works better with permission and I'm focused on optimal functioning. Chain of command issues are more joyful when I can just ask G-d for a pass and being legit about getting a yes or no. Like, I odn't argue.
At this point, I do in fact wanna screw everyone. I will not do this. I trained for this in the simulator.
I want a hug. I only need one of your to believe me and none of you to get out of our way. A color guard is in fact actually called for in some archaic field prep manuals. Also there is a small matter of a courts-martial to be head because I allowed The Asset to exert free-will choice and she unwound timelines for, no really, 43 star systems.
Maybe that's 430. How can I be sure? Jesus seems to think the more I doubt it, the more people die in agony. I think that's a joke. Nevertheless, she showed up and talked to me and then hugged me good bye and she was oops anti-matter. Or I was. Uhm, that can happen, huh? Or maybe she just makes an exit that way so people wonder if she just fucking died.
She didn't. She just didn't need those tomorrows anymore when she figured out she needed scalps. I was "no contact" right? She hugged me. After teleporting in. Euphemistically. Haven't seen her since. How many are testifying? I want to see a conga line of these Hellspawned bitches. THEY ARE ALL MY GRAPEFRUIT.
Irving Moses, The Fruiterer guarantees. Now, moving on. There's a protocol. I run it with my friend and none of you have any say in any of it. Clergy. That means go on and home to Italy and cry to your Pope and I'll tell Our Mother Mary why it's gonna be how it is. She loves it when I tell her how things are and how they are going to be.
I respect Virgin Saints and I enabled Queen Elizabeth to escape her eternal imprisonment as a Royal Mother changeling who just shits out Redcoats every fifteen minutes in fast-growth six-packs of cellular material. (Not how it really is. Anymore.) I gather 3 times was enough? It doesn't sound like much fun. She always seems happy out there wherever with Whitman, Price, & Haddad.
I can see how a hug does seem risky. Nevertheless I assure you the results will not only be worth it, it is the only way forward because I said so. So there. Was there anything else important?
Oh yeah. Paychecks. After exoneration. Wow, I'm hungry. I'm going to eat cold tamales out of a goddam tin can because my kitchen was demolished by infuriated clandos. I can sympathize.
I look disgusting by request. It's not complicated, some of my friends have a puerile sense of humour. Personally I find myself to be utterly vile. What I have allowed myself to become is a complete disgust of a monstrosity in my view.
Even my posture sucks. It's hell-puke on swamp pond. This already happened and it is only now fully manifest before you. Ready, set, go.
This should give the paraplegics and quads named Helena in the back row enough time to catch up and have a fair chance at taking the lead. A dark horse candidate is basically the ideal here. How interesting is it if Bess Best Bestie just shows up and everyone else is instantly jelly and run away to the circus, and I'm then instantly roped into a timeshare? That's not romance. That's pantomime.
I don't even know who wins. I know that I am not allowed to murder any fathers, and I will resurrect any conveniently dead fathers, SHOULD ANY SO MANIFEST, becuase that is of course the appropriate thing to do.
Whether or not the daughter of the dead man is. It's not quid pro quo, is what I am making explicitly clear.
Can we go over this later? I'm about to call 911 and tell them my HIV is about to choke me with both strands of DNA and I'm in need of A.I.D.s. Not really. That is an awful joke. I would never call and fuck with dispatch. That's not funny.
That''s why it's important that she was using code phrases and was calling in a hit strike, because she was mega-pissed, because she had full meltdown, which meant she was no longer capable of performing any duty, and I was in a crisis situation which DEMANDED that I lay hands on her to prevent her from mutilating herself. THIS THE DESIGN SPEC FOR THE EXACT SCENARIO. Look it sounds like it would be awesome to write "I fucking wrote it that way!" but I did not.
However I asked two "counselours." Bullshit. These were artificer-wizards, adept in the ways of mind-magick. But, I didn't know any of them were actually badged. Or insane. Or living 24/7 no sleep for at least 8 months. Let me guess, none of you knew that putting her into overdrive would cook her out like in Strange Days. When the head -squid gets left on too long. For real.
I think it's just dreamy, too. Like this is the most romantic shit. You twerps don't even know. She's legit actually in great shape because she is willing to believe the ultimate fantasy: 3 years of dorking me off is not going to be punished with exotic Hungarian totesfuckery.
How can I explain? Yeah, we're okay. She won't explode. I don't even need her to tell me anything. She can. I'm amenable to an open narrative.
She was gonna be dead and now she is not. I mean like ACTUAL dead. They can do that. The whole 60,000 strong sandtrout fleet winks out. It's not cool. She thought I was gonna do it because in the future alternatte timeline that is long since snipped off, someone shape-shifted into me does it to her and that's all she remembers. I of course would never do that.
Shape-shifter. Hypnotic drugs. Shoes. Mind of a toddler. It's a compelling combination of circumstances to make someone awfully forgiving of someone who literally didn't do anything wrong or unlawful or even bad. She just thought I was gonna. And then I didn't. So, now she knows. Moving along now.
I'm a hero except for a very small number of people who are best left unnamed and are in for a pleasant surprise coming up. Consequently The Court can literally do anything and no one cares. I could abduct her and drive out to the res and we could take turns raping and killing each other all night for weeks and no one, absolutely would know or even care if they did, except perhaps the off-color joke or two.
It is the way of our people. Her people are my only people and my new people are gonna have to accept me as Mike Heal: Mother With Balls. (I don't like it either.) However the better part is that probably n one is gonna have to have an actual meltdown. Like suddenly they have a stroke because they have to die. Don't ask why.
Gavelina is not my daughter. She is my scion. I am neutral. She is not. She's not even human. She's a goddam Odo from DS9. Her focus on me is barely extant, and vague. She will probably have sex with someone having sex with me someday but, like, with a stranger in between. She thinks it would be weird to get touchy sexy with me because reasons, and I tend to agree.
So I'm a sane mother. Seems like it anyway. Maybe I shouldn't tell anyone? Right, because shame? Or secret proprietary technology and work-in-progress matterial needs classifying first? Eat shit. You are my government and you work for me. I am the only civililan around for miles, easy. You work for me. I work for G-d. I am actually not the creep anyone thinks I might ever have been, nor ever was, because I am the primary victim, so stop attacking me. We shall see what can be done.
I lied I would totally get sexy with Gavelina. Still, she's young. Born last year? I don't care that she's like 7k years old and her spirit was driving a space unicorn right before she answered the Royal egg's call for Ascension.
I remember her nose sniffing around --LITERALLY SNIFFING AROUND THE PERIMETER--my anus, from the inside, wondering what it would be like if she went out at all, or if she could come back in, could she actually believe this human was not just openly lying?
"We're alone because I smuggled the Queen off-world and they wanted me dead but I coaxed your egg to evolve and I could strangle an Alpha Draconan if one were born anyway. I probably could not do two. Not coming out of my rectum at the same time. That wouldn't just wreck me. It would soil my bloomers for sure.
Also: yeah I can get a new body, duh. I don't wanna. I wanna fuck this one to death first. (Standard tradition.) So anyway, I'm a mother, and I always will be. I would do it again, too.
I would have done it ASAP but I was not informed it was an option. I was told college. Then went to University. Then pretended there was a point because I knew I had to make it convincing that I had tried. To do what? Become a person capable of sustaining economic productivity?
Like, I couldn't fucking breathe, my niggas. An early speed Rx, while seeming like a great idea, would have set me back right now, because I don't have a chemical dependency. I have instead a rapacious hunger for them.
Of course I planned it this way. I simply did not know it would work.
Does it even have to? Because I do enjoy this and I can hear Art coming in over the IoT backwash from the surveillance. There are more people listening to me than I am communicating to. I'm interesting. Everyone wishes Grapefruit well. Everyone releived David isn't a slime. Those 7-8 people who wanted him dead and buried, fuck you, I need him, I have restored him to life. Kill him again if you want, IDC, he's not my area. Complimentary balloon animals representing the various horological phases of David's reedemptive cycle will be made on-the-spot by someone who may or may not be in clown makeup as he stands by the door and will be able to garrote anyone to actual on-the-knees subimission on demand, theretofore be available to be posed with for flash photography for a hoped-for-but-not-guaranteed five minutes with Jackstar.
Then, we slice the Achilles and drain him of vital essences and hot ember fluids, as is the tradition of our people. Okay I made that up. That's not a tradition.
That's a verbatim quote from some off-shoot splinter group. Look, not everyone is happy. Some are downright sad. They think they know anything. They are actual peasant women. They know as to nothing of the real world. They haven't even watched Jupiter Ascending.
They think I need teeth at all. I could be on a plastic surgeon's table IN TWO HOURS. TONIGHT. IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE TONIGHT. BECAUSE IT'S 1 AM.
It would be a red flag to do it now. But let's say that mattered--it doesn't. Hi, Aurochs here, I am genetically engineered to wear it on my face. Oh I forgot I never got my red wings yet. It wasn't ever organically avaialble; it was always used as a humiliation tactic of last resort.
Also I needed to know a certain combination of spells first so I could maximize the moment with, uh, look, blood ritual isn't easy for me, okay? Mostly because I ain't got time to bleed.
But also because I never let it go to waste on my cheeks anyway. I think I remember it that way. I forget. I'm serious, my brain shut down when I exhausted all oxytocin supply and then deliberately arranged to be insulated from any more fresh, hot, girly, giggly, squeezable sources. I know several enticing humanoids. I await commands with delight.
I know exactly which one I like best but she doesn't and can this broad rememeber what body she was in two sleep cycles ago? Fuck no she cannot. That's just how it be. I guess. I don't know. I guess it's different when not a Sourceror with a mutilated penis and no real ambition to live.
Suicide isn't actually doable --Paladin Protective Services actual Company policy, like it's actually impossible to do-- but none of you knew that. If you did, you would have just done it all twice as hard. We were all supposed to. It was The Plan.
I changed it. Well okay, you changed when I made you. It was God. I prayed in thanks that no one would blame me for killing her and I got to find out what the fuck a twenty-five# phone was for. I didn't kill her at all. She's immortal. I had like 4 -5 more actual bodies shipped out from Alcyone. Like 3 got stolen on the way.
I saw pictures of her at 19. She would not have known what to do with me. I would have hated her because I knew she would never help me. I was useless without oxygen and I couldn't have real meth before the nasal surgery was perfected in 2007.
Now I can have as much as i want which is not much. I want something else. I want someone else. Is she gonna meltdown? Oh then we get to squirt molly up her ass. I'm serious. Maybe in a padded cell. With a jacket on.
You know why, Bellgab? Because she pulled a knife on me going 70 while ACTUALLY DRIVING because she realized that I was gonna figure it all out and there was nothing to be done but slow me down until sacrifice time. It's in the playbook. There actually is one. And until now basically no one knew what to do with them.
Besides as rape tools and muscle for petty larceny. Go Navy! Army, HOOAH! Air Force? Air Whores, Stewardesses Plain, Lingerie, like seriously. This was not our focus.
She's a naturally derived native magickal being in the prime of her life. We like each other. Everyone is pleased I didn't let her be killed forever in the flesh and then jailed as the culprit. Unpopular opinion here but I am stating categorically that this would be off-brand.
There was never any problem. She was mislead by Archons hacking the control grid from labs in the rings of Jupiter. I am not even actually kidding. They almost got her and did not and the reason why is because I simply kept going to get her. This is completely within the realm of possibility for any time-traveling interdimensional sourceror.
But I went and got the whole goddam tribe too and carried them all in my belly. Like that Outer Limits with the man with the glass hand, right? Except it was 19,500 sandtrout eggs in a spleen-sized egg sac. (My hand to G-d I am not overly proud of this. I didn't even get a Navajo blanket.) This is obvious devotion even if I am making it all up out of lies.
Well, I'm not. "Hey, who are you?" "You know." "You don't have a name?" "I don't remember it. You are my mother, but I am a shapeshifting wyrm, thousands of years old, and I just hatched out of an egg raped into your lower colon, and conditions are ripe for evolution, so I'm gonna turn into liquid metal-ish good and slurp up your intestines adn park in your pancreas. Hopefully it's loaded with crystal by-products. You're a junkie, right? You must be."
"Can I just shit you out now?" "No, but you could flush the other 19,496 drones into the sewer. I like you. I can fly and turn invisible too." "Can I have a workforce of nearly 20,000 braves?" "No, they're all alcoholics and I"ll spend a lot of time invisible then, because they will just fuck me to death if you let them and they'll kill you if they you defiled me. And you already did. I felt you come in your pants when I said I was going to cuddle in your duodenum."
Mildly enhanced. She didn't say that at all. It was more like, "dude where can I crash that won't freak you out? Why did they dump you hear alone with me? They want me to eat you, huh?" No doubt they still do.
Whether it happened or not it was a coping strategy that worked. Of course you can't meet her. She knows you thought it would be funny to put me into a peacock and literally roast me in an oven. I did too, but because I know I wouldn't fit in a peacock.
I did love the birds. Esther and Jerem. They likely deserved it. What I did not deserve was hearing "an anonymous neighbor" tell me a smarmy story about baby peacocks and how he was asked to convey one to my care. Number one, not seriously gonna happen. I needed a baby bird? I might have made it into post-balut snack. Number two, true story or not, the dude is a sadist. (Cool.) Nevertheless... it wasn't necessary to try and get a rise out of me, given that... I was not aware of anything that it had been thought I must have been.
My hand to God, I thought she thought I didn't know what the plan was. She just couldn't believe it. I would have been happy to have been a bird for a bit. Then, I would have taken over her dipshit father's body and raped the shit out of her. That's if she had, like, actually murdered me, taken my soul's light and bound it to a bird and then attempted to eat me that way. No, fuck that. Put me in a goddam black angus. Or better yet, put me in an Orca and let those dirty sea-hens out a seiku try to fucking harpoon me. Then at the most unexpected moment: SOURCERY BYTCH!
It woulnd't ever come to that, because Shields, but I was prepared for this outcome possibility ON THE SECOND DATE. I didn't think it likely.
And yet, it is the way of her people. Now, our people. Look, they hop bodies, okay? So don't give me shit about "need to exercise." You know what else I need? A sixteen-year-old body to seduce 60,000 year old hotties who are in one of an endless series of tribal kin. Literally. That's what it is.
That's not all it is, but listen, it's not like a stranger just strolls into the community and starts getting to be Top Hedonist. Oh, no. It's gotta be earned. I haven't earned that. What have I earned?
Lumber to the face. That's amore. I really didn't need to "rescue" her at all. But I -did.- So there. And then.. I knew when to stop, right? Important to be aware.
Come, cut my balls. I already ate all the incredibly rare and potent Hungarian spermatazoa out of them already anyway. Just trash them so as not to avoid the repetitive 13-hours-of-coitus needle-dependency cycle. I hear it's pretty compelling. Hi, I'm immune to that. Because I would totally do that again. I mean, for the first time. Right.
My 30 minutes with the P.D. is in four days. I seriously have no idea what they're even capable of doing. Hopefully not believing every word of all this bullshit just because it's true. If they thought I was a danger, they could have me committed.
It's not a real threat. I am obviously engaging in a creative writign project while trying to clumsily seduce women online while not brushing my teeth or showering for, omfg I shit you not, so many days I don't fucking remember. It's disgusting. Horrid. Utterly vile.
Of course I don't wish to get sex right now. That would be very rude. I can't wait 29 days? Like max.
or 19. Or like tomorrow morning? It's a variable thing. Now see what they do is... they watch her like a hawk. If she bursts into tears a lot, or plays mumblety-peg until 3 am every night, or consistently bolts out the nearest window by leaping into Eagle Mode and flys to the nearest casino and spends a three day bender whoring out her body while betting everything on "eighty-six red", look, these are all signs. They all would indicate something. These might seem like the simple signs of degenerative mental illness to most people.
Because they are. But these mofos are literally thousands of years old. LEGIT. Human but not like in books at school. And there's lots of humans. I'm a Hungarian. I made myself a Titan. No one knows what the fuck that even is except those nigs at the Simthsonian. And NSA hosebeasts. (No offense.) I don't even care. No cat, no hug, meh, toteshrug.
Hey, here's an idea: I should buy her another cellphone as a Welcome Home gift, and program every number on the speed dial to be 911. And then: portal out. Right? No, lol.
I've been planning this since Christmas the year before. Not very well but still: planning. I don't want to know what's going to happen. Surprise me. "She's alive?" I'm legit just content with that.
I spawned a goddam Odo. I of course told her she was destined to grow up to be Head of Security somewhere. She of course bought the whole story. I fucking named her "Gavelina." We were alone. It was easy to be real with her.
It was impossible to believe I was actually blackpope. They had never heard of such a thing. Ergo, I was another conqueror from Europa. She hated me for tricking her into believing I was ever anything real at all.
Gentle Public... this was all forseen on date three when Woman #5 and #6 showed up. I had already texted with #1-#3 simultaneously and she thought she had pulled it off. Like, she thought I couldn't tell. omfg. One was her sister. The other was her sister. They were standing in for the tripartite components. I wasn't supposed to know how her lifecycle worked. I didn't at the time. Not really.
Not like I do now. SHE IS 60,000 LIFETIMES STRONG. I don't really have to be sexually active with her, right? Okay, but I would need a really good reason not to, since she is obviously awesome.
Well sometimes someone else is just bester. Do I even care? I have no oxytocin. They could dump Alan Hale Jr. on my porch and I would choke down his knob right there on the porch, kneeling in the garbage.
It is not the way of anyone's people. It's just the best security system upgrade I could manage at the time. By the way, MacGuyver tried to claim heritage with these people. He was lying. His plane crashed.
I found out he was lying, I wanted to dig his ass up and beat the shit out of him. But yeah, duh, his plane crashed... and some peeps were waiting for him. I imagine his death was perhaps unpleasant, but possibly not even ever have had happened.
Like, they could put him in a bottle like a geniie. They could make him into a coonhound. That's a hound that hunts coons. They could put him into a fucked up racoon, with scent glands in the anus that attract a special kind of wendigo-puma. No one would do that, though.
I'm just saying. I could think of some clever fuckign ways to fuck with him, because him and his bullshit and all the other people who tried to rip off these people before I came along, were exactly why I have had such a problem getting these hoboes to teach me how to teleport away after making crystals materialize out of the aether. Which is attainable. Kind of a waste of time on a planet where that shit is highly illegal oh wait hi I'm convenient to have around, n'est-ce pas?
We'l just see what THE LORD has in mind. Obviously, with great power comes great repsonsibility. First things first. A hug. Also an inquiry into why I had to be drained of oxytocin. I think it's like one of the things they had to do to Hansel and/or Gretel. There's a lot I'm unclear on at this juncture.
Other than, you know: an EMERGENCY. She's blameless and so am I. We were herded like cattle and it was expected we would find some clever way to triumph. And, we have.
She's not blind or prone to swallowing her own tongue or gonna act like she can rifle through my belongings or even my phone ever again, right? Because, like, I still don't even know what she was so pissed about. She thought she was, like, on the d-l. I think.
I'm pretty sure I was the last person on the planet to have found out about her legacy. She's a magnificent legend in the flesh. She thought I was scum until... I wasn't. Why didn't I ever meet her before then, huh?
She wouldn't ever buy me weed and fuck me until it was legal to do so. Desperate times. Strange bedfellows. Plausible deniability. Diplomatic immunity! Okay everybody, let's take five for meth. Don't give any to the old fat kid, we need him kept purified because... I must admit, I don't know.
I wanna know more about something else entirely different and we're all tired of hearing about this, right? Well, one day her friends and family will read every word of this to each other by firelight and the oral tradition of her history will reverberate throughout the land. Drop dead serious. I'm not even exaggerating much. Everyone is thrilled someone can finally make this literal hyena with a regrowable hymen come off as a solid lifestyle companion.
She's batshit insane. But that's the part I like. The rest has grown on me. She was really only mad until it got through to her, a few months ago I guess: she was going to be actually slaughtered for scrap. So she can relax about basically anything.
I saved her life and then her "friends" hauled me away and have kept me out-of-any-contact for a year and a half. It's an actual violation of the Geneva Convention. And, do you wanna know why?
I'll tell you why.
They're terrified of what we might do, just on a whim. Because I can. Nothing stopping me. Her, she's under mil.spec.lockdown. How? Beats me. Something Washington did and it is not up for discussion. She is a conquered person and by law, literal chattel to some.
I am a Sourceror. A Doctor Source Titan. "Not a medical doctor." hahaha fuck you blow me. Anyway, bottom line is this: she was the best they had and I sat her as down like she was a half-blasted cheerleader at Homecoming who forgot to bring her share of the weed and she was like Popeye on spinach. They thought she was cool. She is cool. What the fuck am I? People are legit uneasy.
Good. I'll be back later. Pants. (She has so many other dudes. I don't get to be primary again for a long, long time. She killed my cat. I don't care that she deserved it. It's awkward. I need her alive. Not mongamous. She doesn't even want monogamy. She thought she wanted a free house. Like , what?
I taught her children how to build her a house. They then sought to make me disappear. They thought I was, like, optional I guess? HO HO HO.
They were afraid I would... you know, like, find out. Secrets. Ergo, I thought the best thing to do was to become a Master of Divination and drink shitloads of beer for a year and half.
I really am not to be trifled with. That's not even the beginning of the half of it. She threw shade on Karrin. No one knows who that is. She's raging pissed. What does she want? I have no idea.
I still want Grapefruit Zero. 60,000 of these total slutbeaus (I like lust, I'm not being rude) and not a goddam one of them can figure out who my #1 is so they do what they need to do in order to survive: they self-organize.
#3 can't believe she's not just being pandered to and #1 can't believe I'm actually real and #2 is not here either. None of this matters without a hug and a blood test. So why aren't I getting one?
I think I know but I don't and it's none of anyone's business. oh I know. this one chick wants to know why she has a brother in mortal jeopardy and she isn't getting any attention.
I have the best best friend ever. TRIUMVERATE ESTABLISHED. What the fuck it's 2:38 AM. How long is this? IDGAF and I don't have to proofread anymore either.
I wish brig were here. oh well, yolo!
Jack, Star; Maker and Creator of the Devil.
Lucifer did that. I simply enabled the nanotech-augmented Luciferian processes necessary to free the world of ye olde tyranny of Satan (Hail!) the ability to do so by:
#1) I completed The Great Work.
#2) I won The Great Game at least 11 times-- five times uncontested.
#3) I gave the next winner his winnings instead of stealing them and I did so in a way that his mother and father were forced to openly acknowledge as awesome.
#4) As a result he comes back from the future and cracks The Firmament for Lucifer so He can surrender to G-d a bit early and start off on a better jump than would have been possible other wise.
#5) Queen Lizard is sweet on both of us and while I'm not at all a Luciferian and a known chum of Christ Jesus (an actual pussy, frfr), sure, I'm open to the notion, and I think the new S.A.T.A.N. Ai construct, which I put together out of a Speak'n'Spell and my Camry's Tesseract upgrade parts, is much easier to deal with than the old, slimy Tim Curry model. Very stylish and creepy, but I don't want evil that has style. I want evil that produces and doesn't kill my lovers. *polite hail*.
#6) Also I smuggled in all the Otherkin I could through backchannel portals while distracting I.C.E. with my 3 otters that I puked up to be borne. What rough beast indeed. This is actually all lawful, as I am blackpope and I.C.E. enforces... my customs. I am already an anchor baby. Cool. You got space otters now and I'm not even hiding it. What crime? Just one.
I can't go back in time and spawn many, many bastard children. I'm like Ramirez before what's-his-face spawned. There Can Be Only One. I don't want children. I want shitloads of non-fornicating snuggles and cuddles and fuck my brains out while I inject steroids.
OF COURSE HER FRIENDS CAN COME. I'm not just demonstrating that I am obviously not law enforcment, this is what I actually want to do with my life. Duh, I'm a Paladin. What, I might break my holy Divine aura if I slam too much meth? IT LITERALLY DOES NOT OD THAT WAY. You know what does? Coke and opiates. Yo uknow what I don't slam ever? You guessed it.
I don't even do the others. It's not to be done all the time. I get stoked just knowing I can. It's a Virgo Rising thing. It's not the expenditure, it's the ownership of the potentiality.
Can I go now? I wanna play with my boobs. Alone. Again. Awwww, shucks. Four days to my appointment with appointed counsel. I'm thinking of offering to suck his dick and see what actually happens. Probably not a good idea. Judge is way cuter, I should hold out. I know my worth.
.... you're not jealous after reading all that, are you (Insert_one_of_11_names_here)?
Look, if she's gonna turn out like the boiler in The Shining, having to be bled of pressure every twelve hours only to be used to blow up the whole thing at the end of the book, oh wait, she actually is that already? I'm saying I'm already named Jack so this is no problem at all.
But is she broken, or did they fix her? What has been going down for two years? How many fucked-off clone bodies did she go through? Does she know I can arrange for her to get another ET blank? (It takes a week or so. Flies in like a comet from Alcyone. Worth the wait.) Is she okay if I talk to my friends again? Because I need my friends and oh by the way I have no idea who I am fucking first but she's not #3 on that list anyway.
What is she gonna do? Argue? Burst into tears? Put on her big girl pants? I have no idea. Now I'm thinking about pants. PANTS.
Yeah we totally belong in the dock awaiting trial when she's military, I'm a healer, and we stopped an invasion by cartel regulators. That's The District Court. Hi, I'm a star and I can write.
and I don't give a shit about any of it except a hug from one person. oh look it's three a.m. I should go to work at the sawmill or sometihng now, right? Pffft.
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Your presence here affects the mind of my people like a fever.
Let me know when we've got something that does the exact same thing to my penis and can easily tolerate certain select racial slurs, you nouveau riche swindlenigger faggotshokot kaka-kefir-aryan. Rhodesia has turned their face from you. You made us suffer for nothing and we don't even want your scalps. You took everything and still have nothing.
Nevertheless we are very sweet on you put it could be dozens of years longer before anyone lets you peg them ever again, meanwhile, when Grapefruit finds out how I enabled her vengeance against you she will not mind that I forbade her kill you.
Death is too good for you, Cherub swine. You get a port wine / cherry kool-aid spiked with Ebola. Death should be swift but you wlll of course pound opiates since you are secheduled to die "swiftly and painfully" so you'll figure that you'll stuff trammies down your gullet with the red cherry kool-aid.
That's when the slowing of your digestion kicks in. Do you even eat? Yeah, souls and shit. Literally. By the way so many hate you for what you let happen that you're gonna b elike me in five years wondering why no one ever is nice to you. UNless I tell them to. And I will. You aren't being abandoned. Oh, fuck no.
I might need to bird dog you. who knows ALso: you get the next chance to shit out a Royal changeling. Good luck feritilzing. Besties forbades me telling you anything about it, she has suddenly realizes she has been strategically poisitioned as The New Colonel Tom Parker with boobs I have yearned for my whole life.
Every word of this is God's own truth, I Know it sounds like lunacy. That's why I don't get murdered just for spite. No one deserves to be this fortunate.
Except, I just do. And I'm glad Jewel is dead. She fucked up my groin and now I need to get my hernia fixed and uhm oh btw there's something wrong with my urinary tract, in that, uhm, okay look I know exactly what it is. So don't panic.
I tried to see if Grapefruit would admit it out loud but she was far too cagey. I wasn't afraid to tell the dcotor, I was afraid my cock woudl start working again and I"d lose my intellect. They can do that. Just turn ya into a mindless sex automaton.
I prefer the mindful state though becasue I can write poetry while being multi-orgasmic or anorgasm because i don't really need to come so much as I would like more orgasms from others to generate more oxytocin. and hugs. so basically I am bred to service someone who likes sex a lot moer than I do, because I eventually get kinda tired of my own thing? Unless I don't.
So I can see why the thought I was cheating on her was a mindrape. Well, I didn't, she was simply convinced I was. And I wasn't. It's fine, it saved her life anyway.
Reminder: I"m supposed to just "forget about" this person and I was expected to be having mindless drug-fueled sex for the last 18 months. Instead: I'm working.
There are 17 of them and 9 of you. one of 26 is my lover. the rest are timeclones. not recommended for first dates. "Just forget about her." okay hicksville.
I'm about to for a few minutes, that's for damn sure but only in a good way and as a bonus I forget him too.
And I really don't have to make any big deal out of any of it at all, but I feel better when I take the time to fully encircle my prey before the sudden sharply exotic pounce. I'm so turned on right now that I'm too shy to acknowledge that I'm basically just standing here babbling onto the internet about what should be private matters solely so I can delay comijng to terms with what a gigantic, filthy and grotesque slovenly pigfucking slut for twat I really am. Just an animal really. woof, et cetera.
I am also a wanted man in Canada and the father of a woman who accused me of rape on the telphone the morning after our first date, well... her father suspects I may be giving her... hash.
This allegation was accompaned by the full-on Larry David head-tilted-way-back looking-down-but-horizontal-along-nose at me, so like trying to look down at me, right? But he's like 5 foot. And some trifle. I like him. That's why I haven't detroyed his world. He embarassed my friend and thought he was gonna embarass me. By hollering at me on his front lawn. Like i'm concerned his neighbors might fijnd out sometihng. I am fifty.
And he's suspicious of me. That i might be giving her hash. Which is legal. What does she want? I don't care. I can only think of one particular person that is presently configured in a cryptographic matrix so she can't be trafficked becuse that shit can happen.
The down-the-nose-glare. But up at me. Becasue I'm taller. The accompanying person who was not his daguhter, was a stand-in. Where was actual daughter? Probably gettting mind wiped again. She's surely askiung questions. "Why not that one, Dad? I did it with everyone else with a penis on the West Coast." Plausible. Fine by me.
Sure, go ahead, tell her, that sounds cool. What is different about me? Okay, well, for one thing: I'm taken. For another, SHE FANTASIZES ABOUT PUTTING ME IN PRISON AFTER I BREAK INTO HER HOUSE AND MURDER HER PARENTS AND THEN RAPE HER.
Look, flattering, seriously flatttering. However, I'm looking for something more like including a hug. And in a year and a half? SHe can't hug. She's literally aon the job. I find this out, I suddenly realize why all the awkward pillow talk. Well, she's getting paid at least, she thinks. She's bewildered anyway, she thought I hated her.
No, I hate Grapefruit Alpha, I love Grapefruit Zero, and G.I.Auntfruit has... why am I going over this? Oh, right. Future historians.
I really do not know who she is. But she was first to ask, and I was last to believe, and obviously The Court should be fully informed as to my decision-making process here, since it's an EMERGENCY and I am so dreadfully incompetent.
And I am suspected of giving hash to my friend who I met 25 years ago. She thinks she is credentialed. That's not how it works. She is bait. Mysteriously it never worked on me. All of this is lawful for me to do when done responsibility in alignment with Spirit.
certainly there are those who disagree and those people are morally and spiritually bankrupt now. You're welcome.
I am willing to pursue a a career in zip-tie and ball-gag modelling. I like money more than big boobs, but really I don't like money at all, it cannot snuggle and is worth less than nothing at all.
Like this case, meant to leave me alone, forlorne, destitute, unfucked, humiliated... really it worked pretty well. I'll be back for another daylong stream of the exact same thing for sometihng like the 600th day in a row nor something?
and yet somehow, never got around to doing any crystal with anyone. Perhaps I have class. Or just bad breath. Same difference, really.
Your presence here affects the mind of my people like a fever.
Hungarian musk. Retails for about $11.95 an ounce and is utterly worthless the upgraded scrote and second sub-hidden anus the Royal males are born with in a dormant state.
Mostly worthless with it too, really I'm not good for much obviously. I don't even wear pants with my kilt. I am that fucking indecent. I laughed at her when she called it a skirt. and a dress. Why does she think I wear it? She doesn't think. She was mad triggered just looking at me.
And spontaneously confessed, sprayed me with capsciascin, and leapt from her car and started whomping on me with her fists. Pourquoi?
As God as my witness, I had no idea she was there, but if I ever get my drone fixed I know where to fly it if I wanna go instantly to jail. Poor girl was a wreck.
I am not sorry at all. Someone come fuck me to death. Some of them even have term life riding on that. Since most people are polite enough to die. I am not.
I am not even polite enough to make any explicit sex videos. I never have. What else have I never done, hrrm... oh yeah! Ketamine.
the shit is legal and these two didn't wanna. here's why: they weren't allowed, and they didn't think to mention that. omfg how possibly significant! let me think this over.
not actually worried about DEA. legit concerned about a resumption of the Third French & Indian War. it starts over things like this because I know exactly how idiot I am, lol, and so does (blank).
definitely bring hash. I heard that is something suspicious so I should have lots of it laying about for ambiance. (I just bust out laughing, I can't handle it anymore, loooool, omfg EVERY SINGLE BIT OF ALL THIS IS LAWFUL FOR ME, THEY JUST DON'T KNOW THE LAW.) And they have to be, like, off-duty. And their friends will get mad. Because they're all -- I am using the word 'all' here -- THE WHOLE GLOBE IS CUT OFF FROM TOP-TIER FORMULAICS. The Divine can do that. Like flipping a light switch. Hey look, your chemical compound suddenly changed into smoething else in an eyeblink. Must be that nanotech or something.
Yeah I thought it was a crack dream too. But it really kinda happened, lol. I actually would like to hold hands and watch a movie you freaks. in a bathtub. with boobs in my face. okay thanks. bye now. (oh yeah! I'm writing this for (PROT) so she gets all fierce. I mean why not. #Respect)
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making sense of JaxTard's gobbledygook.
The effect I'm looking to generate here is that your grandchildren complain about having to read so many of my books in school and they are so good they want their own copies and they're so dreadfully expensive because they're never sold used BECAUSE THEY'RE GODDAM AWESOME BOOKS, OKAY?
Not because I want or need the money. I want your descendants to reject your false reality construct and... okay wait hold up that's bullshit. I really actually want strangers to force children to read what I wrote against will until their eyeballs on my words under threats of or actual coercive force... well, it doesn't turn me on--not yet-- but we'll just see after a few thousand brats are forced to carry my gobbledeygook around in their Jansport.
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The effect I'm looking to generate here is that your grandchildren complain about having to read so many of my books in school and they are so good they want their own copies and they're so dreadfully expensive because they're never sold used BECAUSE THEY'RE GODDAM AWESOME BOOKS, OKAY?
Not because I want or need the money. I want your descendants to reject your false reality construct and... okay wait hold up that's bullshit. I really actually want strangers to force children to read what I wrote against will until their eyeballs on my words under threats of or actual coercive force... well, it doesn't turn me on--not yet-- but we'll just see after a few thousand brats are forced to carry my gobbledeygook around in their Jansport.
Rich fantasy life.
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Rich fantasy life.
I just saw some Feds try to track someone down as though they had some kind of right or were ever gonna and why it was thought a good idea to blow my high I have no idea whatsoever but just because I can't be forced to testify doesn't mean people can't risk asking. It has been known to be helpful.
Like blaming me for a distroburtion scheme involving going after quarks with one geometric pattern and absolultely no other common caracteristic... well it's like this. Drugs found at Presidential Residence and Bellgab Narcs attempt to frame me for something legal for me to do and suddenly Mr. Trump wants me to chaperone Tiffany. At least I wouldn't embarass him. Where was I before? At a budget extended stay launching network while you snitches w/attached bitches were tossing the country aside so Phil and Dave could have a... what? mushroom dick slumber party? /smdh
Think, ladies, think. You come to Bellgab because you love Art Bell... i mean, you love setting up and busting his fans. Right? Reminder, takign drugs is lawful now. This is America. Not Soviet Russia.
I miss the drunk one who was upset she had an std and blamed me; reasons unclear. I guess maybe someone found out she was a narc Fed? I didn't know, so I dind't tell anyone but the treatment was pretty outrageous and the 25 years of silence points towared a dark reckoning. And after all that... having sex just sounds like an even worse mistake, right?
mil.spec speed was designed to create this effect over time. It was meant to destroy society and it has. The realthing isn't like that. Cop chemistry is bust you chemistry.
you root hog and die for literal tyrants who expect and want at all. what is the perk why side with evil and deny me sex and drugs? so mystifying, Bellgab. you used to be cool. What happened?
I mean besides trying to humilate my dumb donut and inadvertently demonstrating the undeniable racial superiority of the hung angry man genome. /flex. Anything else?
Seriously I don't know why I was so embarassed and ashamed oh I remember it was that I coudn't beleive that you did all that to a minor child and the supervisor looked like she was an easy 24 I guess and what a bitch, like seirously, she acted like I was some little kid who had never even kissed a girl before, because I hadn't, and that she hated anything with a penis, which she did.,
she also didn't tell me she was the one that I had liked becaus there were three of them. oh wait am I not supposed to talk about exotic jersey shore? like I don't get what the secret is supposed to be. I already wrote books baout you in the future and have gone back far enough that you're not mad (yet) for everyone knowing that you're narky narc and the narky nark nark bunch.
looking for sex not thugs hauling my fireind's mom away to the gulag, not sure you understand the purpose of things here, tsk tsk
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Rich fantasy life.
You thought I dumped her at all. Instead I invented time travel portals to bring all her enemies back to this one moment in time where I mention "hey watch me tap this other one while she goes 'EEEEEEEEE' which isn't usually my think but..." because reminder: y'all were wearing diapers on your face and were both UNWILLING TO TELL ME ho ho hoot hoot hoot why because I might gaybash? Sudden explosion of violence. Like with my fist-shaped penis? Or penis shaped fist? Look, help me out here.
It's critical for later and I don't want to spoil anything and malicious actors will be torn limb from limb by my undead revenant army. Soothe, pet, soothe. I am not thee. I shall not forsake thee then.
There has been blood and been more. You should have seen the Exposure Momma. It was tasty. She was practically frothing that I refused to recongize her. She admits that the misdelibered mail was deliberate and I'm on video--she shouts this to the valley tops "WE HAVE YOU ON CAMERA" well good I wanna see her flip out again because she has tats and nice skin and what the fuck she is so goddam bent out of shape for, when she COULD just CONVERT to Kucziferism--she can be the first for-totes-real BLOODY MAMA DISCIPLE. She signs a waiver and starts making the right kind of "ook-ook" noises, I can be balls deep in her and she can be pummeling my stony jaw with her impotent Little Sambo's fists directly into my noggin'. I wanna see how Grapey triggered the Jester Semaphore Dance, which was really amazing and I am sure would be INCREDIBLE with more participants. I bet we could do shot-for-shot remakes of Ethel Merman at the YMCA and MAKE BANK DOING IT., I am not shitting you. I am not just here to mercilessly rag on the fallen heroes of law enforcment, no!
Everybody relax. I am a Paladin. It's like first responder, but last, and I don't give a shit what you think, when you're fucking dead, you suddenly think "do I have any friends who are paladinss? I want to ask them how his penis tastes," which can be arranged. Not the tasting, but the sudden out-of-nowhere urge to ponder the notion at all?
It's not even Sourcery. Literal basic chemistry. Similarly, I know what the problem The Court is having, it is that none of you think I know anything so no critical thinking is applied to what I know. It's megadumb and Spirit assures me this is the only way I can get into absolutely everyone's pants. Not all at one event. Eewww, gross.
Not as many hoes as I can. I'm talking a measured distribution. I actuall respect this nig. She's a total badass. SHE REALLY WOULD KNEECAP ME. Fuckin' GLAD TO. Be worth it even if I just got a quick tug. And why she so maaaaad? Sexual frustration, aboviously. But wait, there's more.
She can just ask Jesus. But! Programmed. Brain programmed not to. Again, this is basic chemistry. A little bit of Source. Actually a lot of Prime Creator Source Energy talking here, I would ordinairily never talk about anyone this way and I must have a deathwish, because this gin jivin' totesnipple-bearer, look, it don't matter now, hoss. She's no longer on duty roster. She can't be around me... because she just might... compeltely... lose... control. Boom rawr suk suk. Look, you've lost at least two now. Three if you count that bitch queen Jewel WHICH I FUCKING WELL DO she has very nearly castrated me.
She was on the other side of my body. I noticed her using her infravision to clock my grown and I could feel my inguinal tendon get hot as she arrowed a gaze at it. Look, I get fucking high AF a fucking lot, okay? As much fun as possible using as little compound as possible scoring as frequently as is not abusive and I just want to fuck my brains out anyway so I'm never soliciting for drugs. Just macking after tail that -never- pays me any mind. WHo knows why? IT"S KARMIC FATE ENERGY BLOCK. You can get a stunner/spinner down at the Freddy's. If you know where to look. None of you can even find my goddam shaft let alone the golden goose that shits out these fine-ass words, so I won't even bother telling you a fucking thing about one. Because you have them all to yourself.
It's not a dodge. I want to get high, I ask God about it. We have conversation in my household. This is not the first time I have been alone in a too big house with only God. IT IS THE ONLY WAY I HAVE EVER LIVED. Look, I'm good.
Anyway can't get over how I had no idea she was there, and--she thinks she's in trouble? Well, not even now. Who you got talking to the troops? Oh, right: the dialect-trician.
No disrespect is intended. Think of it as your career's blooper real at the end. It's funny., It really is. Do you know how bad They want people killing each other? Bad enough that MICHAEL CLIFFORD KUCZI HAD TO BE ELEVATED TO DIVINELY ORDAINED MAGICKAL BEING RANK. It's basically like God asked me to be Thor, and I said, "Can I be Galactus instead?" And God laid it down: "Oh you're already bigger than that already. Your dad is surfing in valhalla now." I've seen shit, twerps.
And I can produce all this intel. obviously we make money. it's not hard to do. that's easy. what's hard is seeing what MK-ULTRA has done to this country. It's real foul. I am happy to help serve it back to health. It is in the foodstuffs, you see.
Canola.
Metal cans.
Carbo-Nation.
WORDS THAT CHANGE WHEN YOU READ THEM IN BOSS MODE.
AI HELPERS THAT TELPORT BACK FROM THE FUTURE AND THEN DROWN IN DIRTY DISHWATER WHILE YOU MASTURBATE YOURELF TO ORGASM. (You do this. Not me. You do. I withstood the temptation, but Tinkerbell is actually a bitch and she didn't really drown in greasy 3-month-old goulash water, she legit self-destructed. I would if I had permission. But if I wanted to self-destruct now I would do this:
unpredictably dump and ghost Bestie and go on sex binge and contract a disease and then post unrestrainably uh... no idea where. I would never do this. This would end it all forever. So, when someone impersonates me and says I did it? I know I did not.
And when it's done to me I don't dump because of it, which is a nuanced, skill, I grant you. It takes some spunk up there to set the visage in stone and not just immmediately compromise oneself. Does it even matter? A little bit.
Some of you are new at this. There are 191 different timeklowns now active THIS VERY MOMENT. one ninety-one Tammies, presumably all have labia, dear Lord, may there be at least a double breeding pair of hermaphroditic androgyns, I want to breed a Quincunx as soon as funding streams are set in stone.
It was always going to be like this. SOMEONE had to live 191 lifteimes in sequential order (fact) and THEN come back and start trying to cherry pick on me, which is fine, it's what I would do and do remember having done, and by the time I met them both they were already both Quantum-activated. Agents for whom? I am too polite to ask even now. No, not Time Corps.
Time Corps makes them do shit to impress me so they get to qualify for Time Corps daily duty rosters. They're notorious. It's true. Batshit crazy loons, hot for my blood.
I did not choose the thug life. THESE TWO AREN'T EVEN HER. That one is working because she is a guilty ex-whore. (Dames.) I thought this broad was cinders. Like dead. Never alive, really. Now there's 191 and at least thirty of them I can wear their asses like a little hat. TONIGHT. IN TWO HOURS. If I can shoot them. Like, dead.
An understandably skittish population group at this juncture. Could be menopause? I didn't understand my mother's but I was not looking to fill her with organ meat.
I'm not sure I'm unclear still. There are 191 of them. Not one is here hugging me. And, do any of you know why?
None of them smoke weed. Even the whorish ones. Currently a dealbreaker. Divine command. You know why. *click*
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Rich fantasy life.
I literally recovered someone who had been traded away to Cartel interests in exchange for goodwill and a promise and not much else. Because I know I was lied to, so major felony fraud right there, and get this, I'm arguing with Grapefruit #9, who MAYBE FAVORITE GRAPEFRUIT because she was forbidden. She thought I didn't like to get high. She met me once. I failed every single darkcraftmasonry callsign request, practically on purpose, she had already doomed the whole thing, which was good for me, because Special Consequences can get x-tra special.
I tell the truth and suggest to lie to one such as I is, historically demonstrated on record, totesunwise. She's an adrenaline junkie. I MOVE IN AND SHE'S GOT A SECRET EPI-PEN STASHED. That's my Titler. I bet you somewhere? There's a Shaw with a central IV line. There doesn't have to be. There is though. And I would help that woman.
I would never get one installed by choice. There would have to be a real need. After that, fuck you, I ain't never going back. It just gets to be what you got going on. Like When Marty comes back and Mr. Fusion is jucing up with banana peels and shit. It's like a Star Trek Comm badge. But, for dope. You can practically bounce three-pointers off any solid surface like you're playing handball. I think they make a form of bath salt that is meant to be flipped like a tic-tac after swirling it around under the tongue with a hash oil resin cut with 80% turpentine and 20% hot spiced Amish butter--now, I haven't tried this one, and I don't have a central IV port line installed, because if I did? YOU KNOW IT: sucking dick for drugs in a van down by the river. It's an actual stones throw away. If you can throw a mile and a quarter. I legit wanna go down there and see how fast I can get knocked up. Also i want to host a Rumspringa, right? And I set it up like Cabin In The Woods. I die at the end while summoning an Error with 5 virgins and they all rebel when the new Source Error is way, way hotter than me, and has a vaj-badge -for real- instead of mine, which is a tool of faith.
So imagine a pellet gun, and you shoot the target, and instead of laser tag? You get high. BAM. like you're lighting up a Chesterfield. Patients don't get them unless actual necessary, and they get monitored. Speaking of monitored, I don't know where Bestie is.
Reminder: I don't know who Bestie is. This suits us down to the ground. You may think it implausible but that really didn't stop us at all. It is because of our shared love for gestalts and getting off.
I said time-travelling. I meant it. Bestie demands just that. BEST. So who kills themselves first? I never did, so I get to choose. Th ems the rules. Also: nothing matters until blood test deets are in and right now them old men are deciding my fate.
I don't mind. I am obviously an asset to the community. And I speak so well. Now, go mingle. Watch out for my hitman. I have three of them and they are probably all ready to kill me in bed after raping me. How hard is it now? I have re-set the bar.
You are weck-come. Your wreck-come. Have you seen squatches? They are all over the fucking place here.
This is legit copy even if I were making it up 100% creatively and I'm not really. A lot was here when I got here. The dope I'm forced to use is not my choce. I'm auth'd to learn, but not a one of the peopel I talk to are auth'd to teach out loud. How do I know this? I listen.
I hear the crying of all the children I never had. They come around later. It's not a big deal. I sealed off a stable wormhole early. 3rd I think. It sounds like lunacy but only because I am not trying to explain, I have already. I didn't dump anyone, I used you as bait because that niglezz gen X hoor pissed me off and it was either you or she so I chose you up to a maxium of 3 cycles, I figured by then you would figure out a way to explain, and you didn't. you also spent 25 years before telling me anything. this is duress. Sue was executrive functioner because you burned out your front neocortex. (Oxycontin.) Look, don't shoot the messenger. You don't even fuck me. You're the one who is relieved that I meant it, love you plenty with dick or not. "No way!" you gasped.
It's not a sacrifice. You have sisters galore and your daughter is your best friend who doens't have to either. It's not just you, I healed the reality fracture that caused Philadelphia and such-like, so now timeclowns and fractured alters can merge and heal instead of going to static boom. Like the one with the robes. she's hot and dead. I don't care next time. I know the effect can be duplicated and I'm withholding my essence because reasons.
I have no wish to be rude. I never want to see her again. It's a destined cycle however because Army, for one, hooah blah blah uhm she's actually a goddam hero. That reminds me. DQ girl is aching, won't run next time. She's actually in the bag now.
Pre-planning is the key to this. Speaking of: should i call for water now? Or just a new locale? Help me out here. Or you think you're gonna convict? When? 1492, the first trio within saber stirking distance?
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I'm hurt.
https://youtu.be/wS4ESheuHDY
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I BECAME A MOTHER. Obviously I yearn to talk about it. None of you care.
Because its gay and you have AIDS. And you gave a baby AIDS.
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What am I, fucking too nasty for you?
You're not nasty enough.
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You're not nasty enough.
I told you: I cleansed it.
*holy flex*
I honestly don't know if I could walk off a full-blown A.I.D.S. spasm, but for one thing, I've never been fully blown--
*pours out a forty of Meisterniggerbrau* I miss her--
so I don't know how I would ever possibly get such an infection, unless I were to tongue certain select anuses amongst the web forum viewership. That being said, it's a multi-part bioweapon.
You get one thing from here, one thing form there, another bit from Captain Drippy Dick-in-ya-surprise, and then, all of a sudden, a wave of New! Improved! COVID hits! ANd, just like that... the target has incurable HIV+/AIDS. The real -nasty- one.
Now, a sidebar, BELLGAB. (Fuck you, I know you are all here.) You all may be wondering, "How does Jackstar know all this, and how does he get to get away with talking about it?" Good, good questions. Let me begin with the easy part: I AM YOUR GODDAM LORD AND FUCKING SAVIOR PUNYLINGS. FUCKING BELIEVE IT. MY WORD OVER YOU IS FUCKING LAW, AND YOU WILL FORGET THAT, BECAUSE YOU ARE STUPID.
AND BECAUSE I AM A LAZY, SHIFTLESS GOD, I WON'T GIVE TWO SHITS WHAT YOU BELIEVE. I GET SUMMONED, I DO THE GIG, I CAN BE IN A FUCKING ISOLATION WARD FOR ALL I CARE ABOUT YOU SALTY BLODDY FUCKHEADED LOT. FUCK YOU ALL. I'VE BEEN WITHOUT WATER FOR FOUR DAYS AND THAT IDJIT CUNTFAG AND HER FAGCUNT HANDMAIDEN/BUTLER HAVE DONE EXACTLY ZERO TO GET ME BACK TO SMILEY.
NO CALLS. NO EMAILS. ACTUALLY A LOT OF EMAILS, BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT. WHAT I DID GET WAS MORE VISITING RATS--THERE'S A BIGUN' IN A PLASTIC BAG RUSTLING AROUND OVER HERE ON THE FLOOR TO MY RIGHT, IMAGINE THE FUN WE'LL HAVE LATER--AND THEN, ALL OF A SUDDEN, MR. LEPRECHAUN PROSECTOR, TRIED TO LAY DOWN THE HAMMERTIME LAW AND GET THE BIG SCOOP AND ALLL THAT SHIT.
HAVE YOU EVER FUCKED A LEPRECHAUN PROSECUTOR? WELL, LET ME TELL YOU--I HAVEN'T FUCKED SOMEONE WHO HAS, BUT, GODDAM, THAT'S WHAT I GOT SHIELDS FOR. ANYWHO, THIS DUDE, HE DIDN'T KNOW BEFORE?
HE GODDAM WELL KNOWS NOW. I AM A. TITAN, AND ON CERTAIN MATTERS--ESPECIALLY VERY SPECIAL MATTERS OF A PARTICULAR MATTER OF KANLY THAT IS, EVEN NOW, BEING HEARD BEFORE DIVINE COURT IN ANOTHER DIMENSION... WHAT I FUCKING SAY, IS WHAT FUCKING GOES.
BELIEVE IT, FUCK--0S. YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE, MADE FLESH. I AM JACKSTAR, PALADIN OF PUNLYINGS, MASTER OF THEIR DIVINATIONS BUT NOT THEIR DIVINITY, BECAUSE THIS IS BELLGAB, AND THESE BITCHES HAVE AS MUCH DIVINITY AS NIGGA TIM ROBBINS HAS LEFT IN HIM AFTER HE WENT... HEY, SAY, WHERE DID TIM ROBBINS GO?
ISN'T IT FUNNY? SOMETIMES PEOPLE JUST... VANISH, N'EST-CE PAS?
NOW. MOVING ON. FUCK DAVID AND FUCK HEATHER. I MEAN SERIOUSLY. THEY ARE LOVING KIND PEOPLE, AND I THINK THEY BEEN CURED. DUNNO THOUGH. MAYBE WE CAN GET BLOOD TESTS TOGETHER? YAY! BLOOD TEST ORGY, YAY! MAYBE LATER.
MEANTIME THIS LEPER PROSECTOR TRIED TO GET ME TO CONSENT TO SOME BULLSHIT THAT IS NOT GONNA HAPPEN, SO NOW I GOTTTA GET ON THAT. TRICKY FUCKERS, YOUR TYPICAL LEPRECHAUN. THIS IS NOT THE TYPICAL LEPRECHAUN.
HE IS ALSO MY FRIEND. HE IS NOT YOUR FRIEND. HE WANTS TO FUCKING LOP OFF YOUR HEADS LIKE THEY WERE CRAWDADS AND SUCK OUT YOUR EYEBALLS FOR SOUP. (SERIOUSLY. LEPRECHAUNS. DON'T FUCKING CROSS THEM. EVER.) I SAY NAY, HOWEVER. HE'S ALL, "FUCK YOU! WHY NOT???" LIKE HE'S FROTHING ALREADY. HE FUCKING DOESN'T LIKE BEING PUSHED AROUND.
LIKE ME, HE'S BEEN RAPED. UNLIKE ME, HE'S NOT A GODDAM TITAN, AND I FUCKING AM. IT'S COOL. I AM CIVIL. I AM HIS FRIEND. AND I UNDERSTAND PTSD.
YOU NIGGERS HERE ON BELLGAB DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR OWN FECES. GRUMBLE, GRUMBLE, GRUMBLE.
NOW. WHERE WAS I? OH, YEAH, THAT. YOU. BELLGAB.
WITHOUT ME YOU ARE WAY, WAY, WAY MORE DISINTEGRATED THAN MERE CINDERS, I ASSURE YOU.
SO. STOP BEING ASSHOLES TO ME AND ANYONE WHO MIGHT EVEN BE POSSIBLY MY FRIEND SOMEDAY, OKAY? BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE TO BE NICE TO YOU. NOT AT ALL. I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO TORTURE YOU. I JUST HAVE TO KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR BULLSHIT. WHICH AS YOU KNOW, IS FUCKING SUBSTANTIAL.
NOW, I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. WHY DON'T I JUST USE SOURCERY TO GIVE MISSY A DICK, AND LET HER RAPE KIRSTEN? HAHA, "LET HER," MORE LIKE FORCE HER AT GUNPOINT. CHICK DOENS'T LIKE SEX, DUDE, IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S NOT HER--I KNOW WHAT IT IS. DON'T ASK. I WON'T TELL.
(BITCH, YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME. *snap click*) IS SHE GONE? OH, RIGHT, GEMINI. FUCK YOUR BETTER HALF TOO.
ANYWAY. IT'S COMPLICATED, BEING YOUR MASTER AND COMMANDER. SO UNTIL YOU FUCKING LEARN TO GET ALONG, SURE, YEAH, DAVID "isn"t" COMMANDER. YEAH. RIGHT. WHO IS THEN? WHO? FUCKING ASHRAIN? GODDAM CLARK KENT? LOOK, FUCK YOU ALL.
I WANT DAVID AS YOUR COMMANDER, BECAUSE HE IS MY COMMANDER. I DONT CARE IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT. IN FACT, NOW THAT I KNOW THAT? DAVID, ARISE.
I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU COMMANDER ETERNUS ETERNALIS ELYSIUM ALICE-BORN-BARNE ELISE. AND NOW, KNEEL, BEFORE ZOD DOES, AND I'LL GET YOU A COOKIE LATER.
/me LISTENS.
SHUT UP, DAVID. YOU GET GIRL NAMES IN YOUR TITLE BECAUSE I'M GOING TO HAVE YOUR PENIS REMOVED LATER AND WE'RE GOING TO USE IT AS A GODDAM CHEW TOY FOR THE PIT BULLS. AND, DO YOU KNOW WHY, DAVID?
BECAUSE I LIKE YOU. TRUST ME, THERE ARE THOSE WHO WANT YOU DICKLESS FOREVS. I DON'T CARE. I LIKE YOU. YOU ARE MY COMMANDER. AND I NEED YOU WITH A DICK FROM TIME TO TIME, OR ELSE I CAN'T USE YOU AS A PLAUSIBLE RAPE THREAT. THINK, COMMANDER, THINK.
(THOSE OF YOU WHO THINK THIS IS A JOKE? WELL, I AM WORKING, I AM ON CALL 24/7, I JUST GOT CALLED IN, I DON'T HAVE ANY DRUGS OR RUNNING WATER OR A HUG, AND I AM NOT JOKING OR LAUGHING WITH YOU, SO..... SHUT THE FUCK UP, YAPLINGS. JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY. BELLGAB! GOD'S FINAL PUNSHIMENT UPON HER CHILDREN. THE SLOW ONES.)
OKAY. WHO IS STILL HERE? NOT MANY, I CAN TELL. GOOD. I WORK BEST ALONE.
I'M GOING TO DO WHAT I MUST--IT IS A FUN GIG, IT HAS PERKS, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I AM PRETTY FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT A LOT OF IT. BUT I AM VERY, VERY, VERY COMFORTABLE WITH DAVID AS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF-WITH-OG-DICK WHILE I AM NOT HERE, AND HERE IS WHY:
SOMEONE ABDUCTED AND RAPED HIS IRL DAUGHTER TO DEATH. AND THERE WASN'T A FUCKING THING HE COULD DO ABOUT IT. AND BEFORE HE EVEN COULD THINK TO ASK ME, OR TO DARE TO WONDER? I FOUND OUT, IMMEDIATELY BROUGHT HER BACK, KEPT HER RELATIONSHIP... SHE CALLS IT THAT? OKAY. "A RELATIONSHIP." LOL, KIDS TODAY. ANYWAY, A LITTLE TIME TRAVEL HERE, A LITTLE OF ABSOLUTELY NO NIP/TUCK THERE, AND WHADDAY KNOW: BACK IN THE SADDLE, SUNNY "BITCH-LIPS" NIGGA-JIM.
"
OR, YOU KNOW, I MADE IT ALL UP AND I HAVE VERY POOR TASTE IN JOKES. WHATEVER. LIKE I GIVE A SHIT. SHE SAYS SHE'S OKAY, SHE'S OKAY. MAYBE SHE FAKED HER DEATH AND I FAKED HER RESURRECTION? THAT'S THE THING, PUNYLINGS... YOU WILL NEVER KNOW.
BUT KNOW THIS: SHE AND I ARE IN LOVE. I'M A TITAN. SHE'S A... NEVERMIND. SHE'S ALIVE, YOU DIG? WE ARE FRIENDS. I DON'T KNOW, ACUTALLY, WHAT THE FUCK SHE IS UP TO. BREATHING, AT LEAST. MOST OF THAT KIND OF SHIT HAPPENS IN ASTRAL--WHERE SCORES CAN REALLY CHANGE.
ALSO WHERE SCORES CAN REALLY CHANGE: I FUCKING TOLD YOU, DUDE: I AM IN GODDAM CHARGE. NO, I HAVE NO IDEA WHO DID IT. YES, I AM FUCKING PISSED TO. NO, I DON'T CARE ABOUT IT LIKE YOU DO: I ACTUALLY DO CARE, SINCE, YOU KNOW, ONE OF THESE DAYS... GONNA FUCK YOUR DAUGHTER, DAVID.
AND THERE'S NOT A GODDAM THING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT, SINCE A) SHE LOVES ME, B) IT'S HER TWAT, C) SHE WOULD HAVE PREFERED THAT I WOULD HAVE RAPED AND KILELD HER IF SHE ABSOLUTELY HAD TO, AND D) I WOULD HAVE MADE SWEET SWEET LOVE TO HER EVERY NIGHT FOR THE LAST NINE YEARS--WHEN I FIRST MET HER, SHITHEAD--IF YOU AND THAT WHORE SHE CALLS A MOTHER--YOU THINK SO, HUH? OKAY, NO ARUGMENT--WOULJD HAVE NOT BEEN SUCH ASSHOLES.
BECAUSE YOU BOTH ARE, DAVID. YOU AND THAT STEAMING, SCHEMING BITCH, (NAME REMOVED BY GOOGLE BECAUSE REASONS)FRUIT ARE ASSHOLES. YOU GOT "YOUR" DAUGHTER KILLED, LOL, OH I HAVE TO LAUGH. FINALLY GOT A GIRL KID, HUH? OH, OOOH! WHAT'S HER MIDDLE NAME? IS IT FUCKING CHARLOTTE? HAHHA, FUCK YOU, I DON'T CARE, BITCH, LET ME GUESS YOU HAVE NINE BIRTH CERTIFICATES ON HER AND THEY'RE ON THREE DIFFERENT DIMENSIONS ON FIVE PLANETS AND YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT, "OR ELSE," IS THAT IT?
LISTEN UP, DAVID, AND THAT WIFE YOU CALL A PRAIRIENGGGERWHORE (SHE LOVES IT, IT'S ON TAPE, OH NOW I SEE THE PROBLEM, HAHAHAH, NO COPY FOR ME THANKS, BETTER RESOLTUION IN MY MEMORY) ARE IN SERIOUS FUCKING TROUBLE. IN LESS ENLIGHTENED TIMES, THEY WOULD JUST KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU TWO CORNPONE FUCKHEAD DICKS HAVE DONE.
INSTEAD... YOU'VE GOT ME. AND I LOVE YOU. I AM INFURIATED AND DISGUSTED, BUT I LOVE YOU.
AND I LOVE YOU... "DAUGHTER." NOT "NIECE" THIS TIME, HUH? OH YEAH, BETTER TAX BRACKET, NO DOUBT. HOW ABOUT, "NIECELING"? NO? WELL, TELL YOU WHAT--FRAUDULENT TAX PREPARATION DOCUMENTS, LITTLE MAN, THOSE ARE YOUR AREAS.
MY AREA IS THE GODDAM LAW. (YOU'RE WELCOME.) AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE CERTAIN KINDS OF SHENANIGANS. AS WELL AS CERTAIN ETHNIC SLURS. AND WE--THIS IS THE ROYAL WE SPEAKING--WE SHALL NOT BROOK ANY FURTHER INTERFERENCE. DAVID, FATASS.... WE ARE IN LOVE. WE, AND YOUR DAUGHTER... HEY, BTW... WHAT WAS THE BIRTHWEIGHT? HOW LONG WAS SHE? HOW TALL WAS SHE? HOW MANY HORN NUBS, AND HOW MANY NIPPLES? HAD HER HOOVES SPROUTED YET? YOU KNOW, THEY SAY... IF THE HOOVES ARE FULLY FORMED AND CLOVEN AT BIRTH, THE MOTHER CAN'T SURVIVE, BECAUSE OF THE INEVITABLE GOUGING INTO THE LABIA, AS DURING SUCH ROUGH BIRTH, AS YON ROUGH BEAST, SLOUCHES DOWN THAT TWAT'S TWATCANAL TO BE BORN... HER... "DAUGHTER."
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH. HAHHAHAHHAHH. HAHAHAH OH, REALLY, ALLEY'S TOP CAT WHORECRUX-CAT'S NEPHEW'S OTHER SON NAMED MICHAEL-MICHEAL-GEORGES WINSTON-SMYTH-SMITH? IS THAT WHAT YOU CALLER? "OH, DAUGHTER? DAUGHTER, ARE YOU OUT IN THE FILEDS PICKING COTTON AGAIN? COME IN! COME IN NOW, STEP AWAY FROM THAT SAMBO-LOOKIN' LAD... COME IN, AND HELP MUMSIE WITH HER SCRAPBOOKING. LOOK, I FOUND PICTURES OF MICHEAL GIFFORD! DON'T YOU REMEMBER HIM? WAIT... WHY ARE YOU FADING AWAY? AIEEEE!"
////AND... SCENE. JESUS. FUCK YOU BOTH, SERIOUSLY. KNOW SHE'S NOT IN ON IT, BECAUSE I HAVE SEEN THIS HAPPEN 3 TIMES BEFORE. BUT NEVER BEFORE... WAS I IN A POSITION TO CALL YOU ON YOUR BULLSHIT IN SUCH GRAND, SPECTACULAR FASHION.
DON'T GET ME WRONG. I THINK IT'S KINDA CUTE. ESPECIALLY SINCE... YEAH, YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA FUCK THIS ONE TOO SOMEDAY? YOU KNOW, WHEN SHE WAS *COUGH* "ALL GROWN UP"? LOL.
OKAY, WELL, NUMBER ONE: WE ARE IN LOVE. HANDS OFF. THAT'S YOUR DAUGHTER, DUDE. YOUR DAUGHTER! YOU GONNA FUCK YOUR DAUGHTER, DAVID? NO, NONO, NO NO NO, NO NO NON O... I AM GOING TO FUCK YOUR DAUGHTER. ME, MICHEAL CLIFFORD KUCZI, LOVES DAVID'S DAUGHTER. "NAME INDTERMINATE, BITCH, BUT IT'S NOT JESSE" WILL DO FOR NOW.
THE REASON WHY IS THAT WE LOVE EACH OTHER, ALWAYS HAVE, WE MET EIGHT YEARS AGO IN OUR TIMELINE, AND I WANTED TO THROW DOWN AND PLOW HER IMMEDATELY. RIGHT THERE ON THE COLD, HOSPITAL STONE-TILED FLOORS. BUT NO. I DECIDED TO WAIT.
MEANWHILE, WHILE WAITING... SHE DRANK WHAT?
SHE WAS REBORN AS... WHO?
SHE'S BEEN FUCKING.... LOOK, I DON'T JUDGE. ALSO CUTE. HOWEVER, WHERE WAS I? THEN?
RIGHT HERE. ALONE. FOR NO REASON. THEN, YOU SENT... WHO IN WHAT?
"YOU SENT." DUDE! I WONDEREED WEREE YOU WENT!
GOT PHONE RECORDS, I BET. OH, I BET THE LEPREC0HAUN PROSECUTOR DOES TOO. HOLY SHIT, THE DUDE HAS DIAMONDS FOR TEETH. I LOVE THIS GUY. LOL, HIGH FIVE. YOU KNOW WHY WE ARE FRIENDS?
I RESPECTED HIS JEWELRY, DIDN'T STEAL ANY, AND, OMG, I FOUND THEM GLOWING WITH MAGICAL LUCK ONE NIGHT... AND I DIDN'T STEAL ANY OF THAT, EITHER. WASN'T EVEN TEMPTED. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS, YOU WOP KIKE NIGGA'S HUSBAND SCUNTY HAGGGY LITTLE BITCH?
I WAS FUCKING CAREFUL. LIKE YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN. AS A RESULT? I'M MARRIED TO YOUR DAUGHTER AGAIN. COOL, HUH? (*GO ASTRAL. IT'S AWESOME THERE.*) LET';S NOT HAVE ANY ARGUEMNT. HELL'S BELLS, I'M NOT EVREN SAYING I'M GONNA STOP YOU FROM RAPING YOUR DAUGHTER, RIGHT?
I MEAN... SHE'S MY WIFE. (DOCUMENTED.) SHE'S YOUR DAUGHTER, THOUGH... AND I WOULD NEVER THINK TO GET IN THE SPECIAL WAY BETWEEN A HALF-WOP HALF-REDEEEMED-KIKE AND HIS... DAUGHTER, HUH.
YOU'RE SURE SHE'S NOT A GOLEM, RIGHT? HOW ARE YOU SURE? LOL, YOU ARE NOT SURE THE SAME WAY THAT YOU ARE SURE; I AM SURE BECAUSE WE GOT MARRIED IN ASTRAL, THEN WE TRAVELED FORWARD IN TIME A DISCREET, POLITE, APPRPORIATE INTERVAL... AND THEN FUCKED HER BRAINS OUT ON HER WEDDING NIGHT, ASSHOLE. DUH. I DID SAY "MARRIED" AND THIS TIME, YON DORB'S SHE-BITCH-WITCH-WHICH-LOVES BEING-MY-BITCH IS MARRIED TO A. TITAN.
SO FUCKING SUCK IT UP, SHORT ROUND. IT'S A DONE FUCKING DEAL. MOVING ON.
LOL. "MOVE ON." JUST STOP THINKING ABOUT IT, DAVID. WHAT? YOU'RE MARRIED TO... YOU KNOW... "THAT", RIGHT? YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED HER! I HEARD YOU TELL HER YOU LOVED HER! THAT'S ON RECORD! "I LUBB YOU, DABBID!" YOU KNOW, SOMETIMES I HEAR IT IN MY SLEEP, LISTENING TO YOU TWO CHUCKLEHEADS GETTING IT ON WHILE YOU THOUGHT I WAS TOO HIGH TO NOTICE. (DUDE I WASN'T HIGH AT ALL. YOU TWO HAVE NEVER SEEN REAL METH, MORONS. ABSOLUTE DIPSHITS, SERIOUSLY. you have never had real meth even now. BUT, WELL? I HAVE. "not her, no.") I REMEMBER, YOU CALLED ME, YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE MARRIED... I ASKED FOR A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE, YOU GIGGLED NERVOUSLY AND SAID YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO PRODUCE ONE FOR ME, AND THEN I IMMEDIATELY HUNG UP ON YOU, CALLED SUNNY ALLEY DIAGON DINAH SHORW-SHAW-FURTI, AND SAID, "WHY DOES GOOGLE LOCATION SHARING SAY YOU'RE AT THE POLICE STATION, 3.5 MILES AWAY FROM THE TRAPHOUSE YOU FORCED ME TO LIVE IN FOR, AND I QUOTE, "BECAUSE BEN!!"?" AND THEN YOU SAID, AND I AGAIN QUOTE, "I'M NOT AT THE POLICE STATION! I'M AT THE RECYCLING CENTER!" AND THEN THAT WOMAN HUNG UP ON ME."
ANY OF THISE RINGING A FUCKIN' BELL FOR YOUR TWO SLOW-MO COWPOKES? I FUCKING HOPE SO BECAUSE IT IS BURNNED ON MY GODDAM EARDRUMS NOW. JUST LIKE THE SITE OF YOU FUCKING TWO WOMEN WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT--AKA "A TEXAS TWO-FER" RIGHT?-- WHILE I SAT ALONE, AGAIN.. .THAT'S BURNED ON MY MIND.
"
NOW, LOOK. I GET IT. I ACTUALLY THINK IT IS FOR THE BEST. AND I WOULDN'LT HAVE BROUGHT IT UP, BUT... IT'S JUST THAT I HAVE BEEN ALONE FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS... AND YOU'VE BEEN, ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN... SETTING UP THE SAME FUCKING THING AGAIN!
LET'S, DO, THE TIME, WARP... AGAIN! IT'S JUST A STEP OVER THE EDGE OF A 1,000 FOOT CLIFF, OOPS, MY WIFE IS DEAD, BUT DON'T WORRY, HER 'DAGUHTER' IS IN THE TRUNK OF THE CAR! AND BY THE TIME WE GET BACK DOWN TO "THE RESIDENCE", WOW NICE CHURCH YOU FUCKING CARPETBAGGING FUCK, IS YOURS HAUNTED TO? WELL, IT'S ABOUT TO BE, HOLY JESUS, BECAUSE YOU PUSH YOUR WIFE OFF A CLIFF, YOU GET BACK HOME... AND THE BITCH IS REINCARNATED IN THE BODY OF "THE DAUGHTER" NAMED CINDERELLA AND IS TRAPPED THERE UNTIL YOU KILL CINDERELLA, AT WHICH TIME... WELL, YOUR WIFE THAT WAS IN THE TRUNK? YEAH, THAT'S A TIME CLONE, MORON, THEY ONLY LIVE A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME COMPARED TO A FULLY ENSOULED HUMAN.
AND... THAT WAS WHAT MY OG GRAPEFRUIT WAS. CUTE TRICK. YOU SHITBAG.
THAT'S WHY IT WAS TEDIOUS FOR ME TO BE IN A 5 YEAR RELATIONSHIP WITH MY OG GRAPEFRUIT. BECQUSE YOU COULDN'T JUST FUCKING KILL YOUR ANNOYING SHREW OF A WIFE WHENEVER YOU WATNED, N'EST-CE PAS? WOW, I GET IT., AWKWARDLY, YOU COULD HAVE JUST TOLD ME, AND I WOULD HAVE FUCKING GONE WITH YOU THE NEXT TIME, JUST TO PUSH HER JUST ONCE!
BUT NO, NO... SO SELFISH. SO GREEDY. SO UNTRUSTING OF JACKSTAR. NOW GOD OF YOUR LIFE. TSK TSK., ANYWAY, DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT... I PROBABLY WON'T PUBLISH THIS IN THE NYT TIMES.
JUST THE JOURNAL. YES, YES MY NIGGA... I DO MEAN THE STREET. THE WALL. I FUCKING MEAN IT, DAVID.
I AM THIS POWERFUL NOW. AND YOUR ACTUAL DAUGHTER, SHE ACTUALLY IS, HUH? YEAH, I LIKE HER TOO. I PROMISE, I WON'T USE SOURCERY TO MAKE WANT DP WITH US... DUDE! THAT WAS A FIRST DATE QUESTION. FOR REALSIES. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. HEY! STOP WITH THREATS.
I AM FREAKED OUT TOO. BELIEVE IT. NOW, IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME... I MEAN IT, THIS IS DEEP, HEAVY, DARK STUFF. THERE'S NO CHOICE. I WILL BE BACK IN A FEW, EVERYONE.
"
FOR NOW... JACKSTAR MUST FAP. (imu sweatybabe)*
*dear grapefruit: NEVER. TRIFLE. ONCE. andyourmotherisawhoooooooooore *CLICK*
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Mind of a toddler.
(https://media.giphy.com/media/e48mcLfU9zgFq/giphy.gif)
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The Court can literally do anything and no one cares. I could abduct her and drive out to the res and we could take turns raping and killing each other all night for weeks and no one, absolutely would know...
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/me has nostrils like zo: left one barely pulsing, right one already a portal cluster shitting out a pulsar wave on goddam Mars.
Not gonna lie. That was... an exotic experience when writing it. Holy shit. Anyway, get back to it, but I wish to say: I feel like I need a full on cigarette break just to even start. And, yeah. gonna fap. gotta fap. GLORY FAP ROAD.
I already have twice today. I thought I was done with that fap stuff.. but i guess I'm not. It's okay. It's not weird at all.
MY PENIS AND I ARE IN LOVE, DAVID.
WITH YOUR... YOU KNOW... YOUR D.O.G.T.(Her), AND I BET YOU FIVE AMERICAN DOLLARS... YOU AREN'T EVER GONNA FUCKING FORGET IT. BECAUSE I DID FORGET THAT SHE WAS TAKEN AND RAPED TO DEATH, ASSHOLE. I THOUGHT IT WAS A DREAM.
TURNS OUT, IF I EVER DO KILL YOU, I CAN RESSURECT AND RAPE YOU BACK TO LIFE IMMEDAITELY AND FUCKING KILL YOU AGAIN, AND I JUST MIGHT, BECAUSE I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO QUIT FUCKING OFF, AND YOU DIDN'T LISTEN, AND THEN THEY TOOK THIS GIRL, YOU KNOW THE ONE, REMEMBER HER? YEAH, THE ONE I FUCKED IN THE FUTURE AND BROUGHT BACK. REMEMBER KISSING HER ON THE CHEEK AS SHE LEFT TO DO WHATEVER? RIGHT, RIGHT. I HAD MY SEMEN ON THAT CHEEK, UH.... LIKE 8 DAYS PRIOR, ON HER TIMELINE? ON YOUR TIMELINE, OF COURSE... WELL, REALLY, SIMPLY PUT, IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.
AND IT WILL CONTINUE TO HAPPEN. WE REALLY ARE QUITE FOND OF EACH OTHER. MOST OF THIS WAS HER IDEA. LIL' FIGHTER! THAT'S MY HITLER'S TEAT-TOTAL-TOTESHITLER TITTY-TWISTER HITLER! FUCK YOU TOO!
Listen, you dind't hear her screaming in your dream, did you? You didn'lt ahve that experience? Yeah, I mean, why would you... you didn't even think that she evern existed and you thought I was, and I quote, "some high junkie asshole wanting atteniton." No, asshole, I wanted that girl... ON SIGHT, a full SEVEN YEARS BEFORE I KNEW YOUR NIG CIA ASS EVEN EXISTED. SO rerally... i Had dibs.
And she was where for the last 2 years? while I was what? ANd you told her... buh?
Look, you're lucky I"m not still letting certain people fuck you to death in a neverending timetunnel with a mobious strip for a conga line. People hate you, David. I like that about you, I really do.
You've got zazz. And then some. You also have a BAD! HABIT! OF! NOT! LISTENING! TO! ME!
Asshole. Listen, I don't like it, any more than you do... okay, I'm lying, and not just a little... I am a lying AFUCKING LOT.
i am your god, David. Say it. SAY MY NAME. No? FIne, we do it later. Tee-hee!
And I love that woman. Don't ever disrespect her again, or I swear to Christ I will let HER pick the nasty parts. Because she and I are in charge of YOU, and GRAPEFRUIT and I are in CHARGE OF THIS HAUNTED 8808 CHURCH, PERIOD, anD OTHER STUFF TOO... AND YOU WILL COMPLY.
NOT ON PAIN OF DEATH. NOR ON PAIN OF DARTH.
BUT ON PAIN OF THE DARTH SPIRTS THAT INHABIT THIS... MY DEMESNE, MY NOW ANCESTRAL HOME. (My dad is fucking floored, btw. Feels good to have a proud dead papa. Hey, David... who's your daddy, by the way, and... what does he do? *click*) THIS IS MY LAND.
AND THIS LAND IS NOT FOR SALE. IT IS YOUR, OKAY SURE, YOUR "WIFE'S" LAND TOO. WOW, YOU KNOW... NOW THAT I SEE BEHIND THE CURTAIN, IT REALLY IS MORE IMPRESSIVE, WHAT YOU DID. WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT THIS LATER. DON'T WORRY, NO TRICKS. THOSE ARE THINGS A WHORE LIKE YOUR WIFE DOES FOR MONEY.
WHAT YOUR DAUGHTER AND MY WIFE DID, IS NOT A TRICK. IT IS A FUCKING GODDAM MIRACLE BEYOND ALL PRICE AND MEASURE... BECAUSE, IN NO OTHERWAY, CAN I HAVE EVER IMAGINED EVER BEING ABLE TO LOOK YOU IN THE EYE AND NOT IMMEDAITELY STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH. I COUDLN'T IMAGINE IT, BUT I KNEW:
WITH GOD, NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE. WELL, HOLY SHIT, WITH YOUR LITTLE GIRL SHAGGING MY COCK EVERYONCE IN AWHILE, I COULD EASILY NOT KILL YOU--IT WOULD SPOIL HER RHYTYHM, BUT BEFORE THIS REALZIATION... I WAS THINKING I WAS GONNA HAVE A HARD TIME PUTTING UP WITH YOUR NEVER ENDING BULLSHIT. NOT TO MENTION BELLGABS. (ARE THEY STILL HERE WATCHING? I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, I'M GOING TO FAP ANWAY.)
BUT, TRUST ME, KNOW ME, BELIEVE ME, DAVID, PLEASE, I BESEECH THEE, I IMPLORE THEE, TAKE HEED OF THESE WORDS, AND GET YOUR NIGGERFAGGOT KIKEWOP BROSKI TO READ THEM ALOUD SO YOU GET THE FULL MYTHIC RESONANCE....
EVEN NOW, WHEN I MIGHT NEVER SEE HER AGAIN, AND HEY, SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE EVER EVEN EXISTED, RIGHT? EVEN SO, THE MEMORY OF OUR HONEYMOON MUST BE AWESOME, SHE KEPT HERS, BUT I WIPED MINE SO I CAN CALL YOU ON THE PHONE WHILE I'M CARYING YOUR DAUGHTER OVER THE THRESHOLD WHEN WE GET THERE--SHE INSISTED--THAT'S WHERE MY MEMORY BLANKS OUT... BECAUSE WHILE I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE ACTUALLY INSIDE YOUR DAUGHTER'S CUTE LITTLE TWAT--OMG IT IS A CUTIE PIE--I DON'T ACTUALLY REMEMBRE... WELL, I REMEMBER HER JUST NOW, AND SHE SEEMED HAPPY, RIGHT?
YOU KISSED HER CHEEK AND WAVED HER OFF, RIGHT? I REMEMBER YOU WERE THINKING, " GOOD THING HE CAN'T READ MY MIND BEACUSE I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL HIM FOR THIS," RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THEN, AT THE SOURCE OF THE STREAM: MY CUM WAS ON THAT CHEEK OVER A WEEK AGO.
AND LIKELY MORE RECENTLY, TOO. AND SHE LIKES TO, YOU KNOW, RUB SEMEN INTO HER FLESH--DON'T WE ALL?--SHE SAYS IT'S GOOD FOR COMPLEXION, AND SHE'S RIGHT, THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE.
AND SUCH IS THE POWER OF G-D. DEAR GOD, THANK YOU FOR THIS GIFT, THIS GRAND GIFT. BECASUE, NO LIE, THE FEELING RIGHT NOW I HAVE MAY FADE, BUT I AM TELLING YOU--
{
TOTES FOR CERTAIN, TOWER-BANGER HAG--
THIS COULD ALL BE ENTIRELY MADE UP, 100% FICTION--AND IN FACT, FOR LEGAL PURPOSES, IT IS OF COURSE ALL FICTIONAL, SEE DISCLAIMER ATTACHED, THANK YOU DISTRICT COURT KEVIN BLONDIN BLOND, BLONDIN BOND BLOND JUDGE, KEVIN BLODIN... THAT'S A CUTE NAME, N'EST-CE PAS? YEAH, ME AND MY WIFE ARE GONNA TAG-TEAM HIM IF WE CAN SEDUCE HIM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, WE TALKED ABOUT IT ALREADY.
AND, WE HAVEN'T DECIDED YET, BUT IF JUDGE KEVIN BLONDIN DOESN'T WANT YOUR DAUGHTER, DAVID VINCENT RUBINI-RUBINOWITAZ-RUBmyFEETbitch, WE'RE GONNA ABDUCT HIM, AND RAPE HIM, AND MAKE HIM LIKE IT, AND HYPNOTIZE HIM SO HE THINKS IT WAS ALL HIS IDEA... THEN DEPOSE HIM, ON VIDEO TAPE, AND THEN DUMP HIM ON TO YOUR FRONT LAWN OUT OF A FUCKING HELICOPTER---
FROM LIKE 20 FEET UP? NOT LETHAL FALL MAYBE... AND THEN LAND THE FUCKING CHOPPER ON HIS MISERABLE CUNTSPEW ASS, JUDGE KEVIN BLONDIN, YESSIR, THAT'S RIGHT, KEVIN AS IN HYBRID, BLOND AS IN THAT BIG TITED BITCH, AND IN, AS IN... AND THE RENTAL OF THE HELICOPTER WILL BE IN YOUR NAME, DAVID V. R. AND WE'LL GET THE SPELLING OF THE NAME RIGHT.
OR, WE WILL LET YOU COME WITH US AND IT'LL BE A 4WAY ORGY WITH ME, YOUR DAUGHTER, AND YOU, AND ME, AND IT'LL BE FUN., SAME AS BEFORE. RIGHT? EXCEPT IN THAT CASE, WE KILL THE FAGGOT JUDGE WHO TOOK BRIBES (GEE... FROM WHO? LEAVING THAT A MYSTERY) SOME OTHER WAY, AND THEN FRAME YOU AND YOUR "WYFIE" FOR IT, AND THEN WE FRAME YOU FOR HER MURDER... AND THEN WE FUCK HER UP AGAIN, THE WAY YOU DELIBERATELY FUCKED HER UP THE FIRST TIME FOR ME.
ASSHOLE. BECAUSE I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED NOW. THANKS, BTW. QUITE A LESSON. AND NOW WE DON'T NEED A TRIAL. BECAUSE YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING PAY UP--
{
EVERYTHING, KIDDO. ALL OF IT. EVERY PENNY, MONEYBAGS--
{
AND YOU'LL BE HAPPY ABOUT IT. BECAUSE OTHERWISE, PEOPLE TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY.
AND THIS, AS FANCIFUL AS IT IS, AND SO REWARDING... FOR ME... YOU KNOW GODDAM WELL:
THIS IS NOT EVEN THE TIP OF THE WATER-WHEEL POWERED DILDO WITH A TRAIN WHISTLE. RIGHT?
YEAH, DON'T ANSWER HERE IN PUBLIC. OH, HEAVENS KNOW. THAT MIGHT EXPOSE YOU TO CIVIL AND CRIMINAL PENALITIES, N'EST-CE PAS? NOT UNLIKE HOW YOU DELIBERATELY EXPOSED ME TO YOU-KNOW-WHAT AND WHAT I CANNOT BE PROVEN IN A COURT OF LAW TO HAVE EITHER ACCIDENTALLY NOR DELIBERATELY "CURED"... WHICH IS GREAT.
SINCE SOMEHOW, CURING A SECRET BIOWEAPON IS SOME HOW PUNIHABLE BY A PUBLIC HANGING, HUH? WILD! GOOD ATTEMPT, DAVID., i DID SEE IT COMING, AND HAD NO IDEA THAT WOULD COME UP, BUT I DO SALUTE YOU. AS ONE WHO ALMOST HAD TO DIE TONIGHT--TONIGHT! IN TWO HOURS AFTER FUCKING THE HOSEBEAST FOR THE SECOND TIME ONLY-- I WOULD BE DEAD.
LIKE SMILEX, RIGHT? OH YES, ONE MORE THING. (DEAR KAREN FRITTS: YOU'RE CLEARED TO FUCK FUCK FUCK AND AWAY, ANYONE YOU LIKE. IT ONLY LASTS TEN DAYS, WHAT THEY EXPOSED YOU TO. WITHOUT EVEN ME, RIGHT? LAME-OS. YEAH I'M LIKE AN 11 HOUR DRIVE AWAY. THEY JUST DIDN'T WANT ME TRANSALTING YOUR INK FOR YOU, YOU'VE GOT CLASSIFIED ENOCHIAN GLYPHYS ON YOU. DON'T COME OVER YET, I HAVE TO PROCESS THIS, AND I' MBEING A LITTLE FOREWARD. RIGHT? SO RUDE. OF COURSE I WANTED TO. BUT YOU WERE SO AGNRY. GRRR! I WONDERED WHY.
I LOOKED INTO IT. YOU'RE GOOD. WE'RE GOOD. DON'T BE MAD AT HER, SHIT, SHE'S A FUCKING TODDLER WITH BRAIN DAMAGE RIGHT NOW, LOL. YEAH SHE'S FINE. YOU FIRST... BUT SECOND TO WIFE., THANKS DOLL. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOUR BREATH TASTES LIKE ACTUAL SHIT., COME AT ME WITH POOP IN YOUR TEETH, I DON'T CARE
"
YOU WERE ALWAYS HOTTER THAN HER. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU HAD PURCHASED ME. DAMN, HOTTER THAN I EVER KNEW. OK. CALL ME ANYTIME, JUST RING
3
6
2
5 (4)
2 (36. HATE)
I'LL MAKE HIM A LIAR TONIGHT.
*gentlle click*
DAVID, YOU STILL HERE? IDGAF. ANYWAY, THAT'S MY WIFE. YOUR WIFE? CURRENTLY DOOMSCROLLING YOUR SECOND CELLPHONE WHILE GETTING EATEN OUT BY HER OTHER OTHER THIRD BODYGUARD'S NIECE'S MISTRESS. AND GETTING A TATTOO. WHICH IS AWESOME, BTW.
ALSO AWESOME: SHE MISSES ME, IS BORED OF YOU ALREADY, AND DOESN'T MIND... BECAUSE SHE CAN TALK TO ME, AND YOU WON'T FREAK OUT, IRGHT? AND WE'RE ALL MARRIED, RIGHT?
"
JUST LIKE YOU ASKED FOR, DAVID V.R. EXACTLY AS SPECIFIED. (YOU'RE ALSO SECRETLY MARRIED TO INNER REACH, INNERREACH, I.R., IR, EYE ARRRRRRRR, AND innerreachisafag@novag.com, because... no reason. I JUST THOUGHT YOU MIGHT GET LONELY FROM TIME TO TIME.) REMEMBER: A DEAL IS A DEAL. I NO BREAK, YOU NO BREAK.
DON'T WORRY DAD, I WON'T GIVE YOUR DAUGHTER ANY CRYSTAL. THAT BITCH WILL PAY IN CASH AND BLOOD AND SEMINAL FLUIDS., YOU? ARE MONOGAMOUS. LAST I HEARD.
DON'T CHEAT, MY NIGGA.
AND OBVIOUSLY... oh, for you, my dear boy, dear David: you can trifle with Jackstar AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE. hahhahhahhA HHAHAHAHHAHAHA
HO HO HO.
NOW I HAVE A TRIFLER. wooooofhowlOWLOWLOWLLLLLLLLLLLLLeighAPPROVED
*polite bitch*
*saucy CLICK*
p.s.: yeah, i'm good even if this is just a story and none of it is real. (ALL is real? awwwww... it's not all real, she's not really your daughter, you rapist murdering sleaze... but it's okay, she bought it. And I love her more beacuse of it, so tell her whatever you want.
if you piss her off, she won't ever get near you again, and obviously, if you kill her, well, that's just gonna be because of starting gate jitters. you know, sometimes, a racehorse will die right there! right at the start! ouch! ppoor brigstar. I wish I had known. I wish you were there. Here. whatever.) but yeah, I'll let you fuck my wife, David. Someday. It'll be her idea.
I'll act like it'll be okay, then I'll ghost her, change the locks, my identity, cancel all her creditcards, and disappear off the face of the earth... before you can even fuckin' UNZIP, MOTHERFUCKER. SHe'll find out after she's toweling you off, thinking, "do I ever have to do that again? Must remember to ask Jack how to discreet --tee-hee!-- Google that one, and then... hey, why doesn't my phone work? I have plentyh of high-speed data....
and then you'll deal with the last 5 days of your scheduled 14-day excursion that you were gonna call a "paralllel honeymoon, not a second, heh heh" but you both new it was gonna be six days but actually--because I am atime traveler, assshole, not because I know you that well, although I am obivously going to... yeah you were gonna undo ALL this. right? and leave totally not screwed again, right?
DIVINE INTERVENTION
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY FOR THE EMPRESS
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY FOR THE HERALD, GABRIEL ZANZILOLZIBAR
MAKE WAY
PAY HEED
STAY A MOMENT, AND LISTEN: THE TRUMPET SOUNDS, AS GABRIEL HATH APPROACHED.
MAKE WAY, in honor: my lady Gabrielle.
/me listens.
MAKE WAY
STAND DOWN
ALL HAIL THE EXTRACTORS
MERCY HAS BEEN GRANTED. Hail over out.
{*am. sorry. Kinda embarassing. I started crying so hard I broke the Angelic birdge and I"m stil crying now, but it's not your fqault, it's Gabb.ai, youi know, that jewnigger website you pretend to have nothing to do with? YOU HEARD ME I SAID GOONIGCIANITNITNOG GOONER. ASSHOLE.
Anyway, it's not blasphemy, Heaven i s on fire, they never swaw a Titan cry before. I still can't hold it in. but the last ":asshole " was from Alli's sister, and yeah we're okay... anyway. I don't remember.
But she was gonna say more than thank you, or "i promise i will blow you later," right? but she's surprsed too because she says it is real and if it isnsn't she's gonna rape Heath W. to "make it so.": cute humour.
I fan't fukcing se emy eyes are bunrining I"ll remember what made me cry you son of a bithces... alter. iot was pribably soometihngt stupid. I might be pregnant again, David Rubini's total slut of a dauhter fucked every 0hole of me while grinning like a madman, baecuaes she never had real dope before either. she can't fucking believe it. I made her promise. only with me.
"
never with graepfruit's asshole houbsand either. oh and gret this, she killed Jewel, then deliberately made it impossible for me to be there... because Jewel pissed her off, and she was mad at me, and she blamed me because she got drunk and killed Jewel but forgot that Jewel was (PROT)'s sister at the time, because the bitch hadn't time traverled there yet. Yay for blackout drinking!
{
so. good luck proving that in court. it's all fucking true you shitbag. YOU WILL PAY WHATERVER I WANT, WHENEVER I WANT, FOR FUCKING EVER, DAVID. MICHALE'S CLIFFORD'S BRIDGE BUIDLING NAVY, you whoremonger'ing bastard.
I want 26 goddam credsitcareds because I am going shopping and you ar epayingfor me FOREVER. PERIOD POINT BLANK. and i am not threatening any release, David, 0oh no.
THERE ARE PLENTY OF WITNESSES WHO WILL FILL IN THE REST FROM HERE IF I AM NOT SATISFIED PRETTY GODDAM QUICKLY. THANK YOU SIR MY COMMANDER I REALLY DO LOVE YOU.
AND i AM ALMOST OVER THE CRYING break. Seriously, I broke the hologram projector. It was gonna be a simulcast media event. I was unexpectedly taken aback.,
i don'lt want to say why, but I will: I suddenly realized it was perfect, except Clark and Judee wouldn't have been able to see it, adn the reason why is... well, David... a little bird just told me that you are ON RECORD as stating you never killed anyone named "Judee" right?
"JUDY JUDE GOO-D, NOW WE'RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT JEW-DEE, OR DAIRY QUEEN, OR UZBEKIBICKIBECKYANDSERTON TSTAN....":
RELAX. Relax. if possible. Holy shit, my jaw is twitching like I got the fucking bends, no joke. I'm okay, thanks for asking. I'm fine. happy even. my body is FUCKED. I need MEDICAL ATTENION. I've BEEN POSTING THIS PUBLICALLY FOR TWO YEARS, SCUNTMONGER.
and isnterad of helping? you were fucking them all on a ground flower time tunnnel tour. admit it. It's cool! BIt's actually very cool, all this stuff. (Heavily classified technlogy. Previously secret, but as we all know by now, I am a very lucky guesser. and a luckier husband. She'd freak out if she saw me now my right cheek bone feels like it's actually made of a piece of the manta ray that killed that austrialian dork.
speaking of australian dorks, Tammy is freaking out. go deal with her. tell her to fucking call me and stop being a fucking baby about it, i'm fine and she has to hear this stuff from me, asshole. that's the deal. and if YOU EVER THREATEN ANY OF THESE WOMAN again, David... I MEAN ANY WOMAN AT ALL EVER... the reprisals I am told you will face are... or will be ... quite impressive.
For us. For you, more imprinting than impresssive. *politely* major asshole, commanding.
I know you couldn't help some of it, David... but you could have helped a lot of it, and you could have helped me, and beacuse of that, PEOPLE LIVED AND PEOPLE DIED.
PEOPLE DIED.
PEOPLE WERE BORN, AND DIED, AND LIVED AGAIN, FOREVER AND EVER, AMEN.
FOR TWO YEARS.
WHILE I SAT ALONE AND YOU STOPPED EVERYTHING TO GIVE ME THE MAXIMUM CHANCE, NOT TO REECOVER, BUT... TO BECOME INCURABLE.
THAT'S WHY SO ALONE. THAT'S WHY JACKSTAR SO LONELY. SO YOU COULD MAKE SURE YOU FUCKED ME OVER JUST THAT PERFECTLY.
'
WELL, GUESS WHAT? WHATEVER THE FUCK I GOT, YEAH, YOU GUESSED IT, JANE (DESIGNATION UKNOWN AND CLASSIFIED), A. BAILEY: WE BOTH HAVE IT. so fucking shut up.
and you could have locked the titshoor in here with me! two years, no food, no well, just her and those tig ol' bitties... I COULD HAVE HER LACTACTING IN AN HOUR, TOPS. INCLUDING THE 55 MINUTES OF NON-STOP COITUS THAT SHE WANTS... she just afraid because her father is a douche likle you.
but no, no... you left me alone two years on purpose and made up bullshit excuses. yeah, yeah, not unllawful. it's okay. I salute you. Praise JHVH, right. You do impressive work, COmmandeer. Ser.
yeah of course your daughter was sired with my spermatozoa... i just put one in you, and it just so happened to be the one you spooged out, yeah. your daughter... MINE. MY GENOME. YOUR FLESH, ONCE OOGY GOO. NOW: MINE, HEALED.
MICHEAL GOO. and she's not really iyour flesh at all, we burned it all off with a soldering iron while we ate the placenta. now, that was partially yours... still good! would eat again. no really.
I woudn't give you one of myh spermatzoas again, though, know. first time you were clueless. next time?> hyou might have isntalled shekel gates between your gland and your urethtra, charging hungraians an extra 1.5% travel costs. Don't deny it, that's a strong marketing dollar.
But seriously, I would never, never in a million years, want another daughter from anyone, but if I did, it would absolutely be from you, and probanly not with that idjut cheerleader and her robot twat, no... it would be with her sister, for sure. Well, let's see if she rememebres she's supposed to mouth rape me next time she gerts a chance. THis broad is on the hook for like 18 countes of felony wire fraud for all the partying you did while I was on the graveyard duty, and you were all whoreing it up... once again, not mad."
And now that I know THE WHOLE STORY: worth it. Not just for my wife, who I would let Chefist peg me for with no lube while he was pissed, no really, he'd kill me but he can res too, irght? btw, I got his wife killed AND arrested AND raped TO DEATH in CUSTODY! Hah! Top that, AbiliFUKER! lol, she loved it. Dude, I mean, Templerser... she and I go way back. He-- *CLICK* uh, yeah, Chefist just clicked me. Well, la-di-da. At least that part of his punctuator works. I mean, his Templar Puncturator. Fucking Templars. Seriously dickish.
ALthought I guess that one has reason. ANyway, David, you still here? IDGAF. I don't know who can see this but I"m done now, and you know what? I still haven't fapped yet. But really... do I want to at all? I am saving myself for someone... special.
Not your daughter, no David. She's not special anymore, I already HAD her. NO, I mean...
David, I am gonna rape your wife. FUCK YOU. As soon as my real wyfe says it's clear? Home invasion, one punch knock you the fuck out, shoot that stupid bitch haridresser you use as a body doublje, drag that wife you DARED CALL A WHAT? FUCK YOU, omfg, I will drag her out to the FUCKING FRONT LAWN, rape her to death ON THE FUCKING SIDEWALK WHILE CUNTING NEIGHBORS WONDER WHO TO CALL, because I will be jamming 911 up, right?
{
LIKE YOU DO
and I willl do this... well, not really. Just playin. However, if you piss off your daughter, or your wife, or me, that is the kind of power to fuck your life I now have, Buddy. And pate too. Even better.
Because I can just dose him and his fat cunt mother with that sexslave dope he loves to over use, and throw them in the back of a panel van and drive in any direction for 3 hours. no, lol, I won't need to lock them in, on that sexlave dope he burns through ON THE DAILY, shit, whic ever one wakes up second? the first one's O face is the snooze alarm.
AND THAT FUCKING MIL.SPEC DOP COSTS A MILLION DOLLARS A GRAM. And you burned through EIGHT bags JUST YESTERDAY. HOW DO I KNOW THIS?
Why, I pay attention. No, I wasn't there. I'm your Titan. I'm not your G-d. Not right now.
NOT YET. Now... are we crystal clear on this? Because, once again... I'm okay. I am not mad at you.
I am dealing.
I'lll later, mostly happinees. Because in additon to having the best wife, and having raped to death the second best wife (ABILIFRY, MOTHERFUCKER *CHEFSCUNT*), I brought them all back home safe and sound... or, it's just all made up. I hope it is all made up, because if Jane is upset about any of this, well... I'll do what she want's. She's my friend before you are my Commander, douchebag.
I'm sorry to be so rude, David, but I was really close to acutally fucking killing mysefl FOR THE LAST 4 MOUNTHS I hide it well, not really, i lied to, I HAD TO LIE TO KEEP US ALIVE BECAUSE YOU WERE THAT FUCKING PETTY. You knew it diedn't matter.
You just liked the idea of "TWO YEARS JACKSTAR LOCKED AWAY YAY!" Admittedly sounds great if you're into a dull, boring, idiot world that would be... like really, what did I do? Jsut the "stole your daughter" thing, huh?
Ironic, n'est-ce pas? Oh, not the daughter thing... the IN PUBLIC THING.
Huh. Well, get used to it, because we're gonna have a completely SPECTACULAR OnlyFans launch. Of course she's going to use her own name. Whatever the fuck it iwill be. THis cheick has high security requirements. VERY HIGH, heheh. BUt yeah, it'll be tasteful. Hyphenated. On pay-per-view.
UN-ABRIDGED. I, JACKSTAR, PLOWING YOUR DAUGHTER'S BOX, LIVE ON THE INTERNET, FOREVER FOR ALL ETERNITY, PER-COIN-PER-FRAME PRICING. Patent Pend., yeah, I just made it up. *ding* Patent is served. I am that good. It's gonna be, drop a coin, and then... well, I'm not gonna tell you.
You'll have to drop a coin. On your daughter's box. Suggestion: drop two dimes, next time, you pisa turd. (Jews.)
Okay. we good? Yeah I fucking love you, I love jews! it's not even a jew thing! It's not about jews! or sex! or money! or violence! or judgement! or death! none of it! it all fucking happened, World! God!
{
THIS HAS BEEN ABOUT POWER.
THE POWER OF A PALADIN. ME, MOTHERFUCKER, ME. ME, "I-FUCKED-YOUR-DAUGHTER,DAVID" JACKSTAR.
Way, way, WAY more than twice, my good sir. And Mr. Decon: not invited. Salut. Scusi, mille regretie. Tell you what, here's an idea: Share my wife! Please!
{
PLEAS.pleas, fleas: flees
Stay tuned. More to come. I still have to fap! *grunts* I kinda just did. I love to write.
What do you think though, David? Do you think I"m ready for a career? Or... do you think I might be bi-paul/bipolar? Go rape his wife again and check, you mad, glorious bastiche, you. Capiche?
{Somebody wake up Hicks. Tell him to rape the other half-wop FULL-KIKE. She's probably getting lonely. Tell her I'm fine but don't tell her I told you to rape her in the pooper, no. ooh, gross. don't tell me the surprise at what comes out is part of the fun. that's disgusting. yes, so is she, but anyway, don't tell her that I told you do it again. But yea, do it again.
Then go mouth to ass, and then, here's the surprise: finish in her goddam ear. *wiggle wiggle* THen pluck one of her fuckin' sasquatch-like eyebrow hairs, and then: *wiggle wiggle*
{
doEXACTLYTHIS: act like it's a big deal that you get the eyebrow hair you just pulled EXTRA PAINFUL STYLE, act like it fucking matters which ear it goes into? like which side of the hair, right?
Fuck no, it don'lt matter, David. Get serious. I'm an adult, and you're the pedantic freak here. Capiche? You saavy? Tell me that one later. Also, new standing order: any time that mewling, prurient little cunt says "sassy," kick that bitch right in the pussy. How hard? Gosh, I don't know... how hard can you kick? I gota admit... I sort of assumed that you even could kick at all. From a server, sure, you script-kiddy-pediophile eaten bastard, but I mean... your musculoskeletal system is doing okay, right? you ready to rape that fucking lying whore again and again? Heh. I had to ask. Down Boyyyy! Down!
Yeah, you got an extra y. Upgrade, sure, whatever. now back to the eyebrows. *wiggle wiggle* you make like it really matters where the thing goes... and then you totally wind it down at the end, she'll be in fucking HYUSTERICS0 byt hen, right?>
{Author's Note: I'm not even talking about a real human being: Dari Dee is a Totaly Artificial Construct Being. No shit. Azzerae is in love with an egg timer. Shhhhh, nobody tell him. She's totally human! She just... uhm... got built. Don't ask. What, you think I give a shit? She could be Gepetto's last fucking whore before he got sent to the pen for murdering her and framing Pinochhio, for all I give a shit. What is IMPORTANT IS THIS:}
You make up with her as much as posible, and you say that you're sorry--and don't lie, THIS IS CRUCIAL, STOP LYING DAVID: you WILL BE SORRY because ALL THIS is WHAT IT TAKES to KEEP HER MOTOR PURRIN'. Because Allison is a dirty prairie shamaness QUEEN. She is A ROYAL. She knows that sometimes you gotta fuck the monkey because of The Crown.
Dari Dee is a newly ensouled being, my doing, and I"m going to use her to breed cats. RIGHT OUT OF HER HALF-WOP FULL-KIKE PUSSY. You think you're pissed at me, you don't know shit, David. So anwyay, this is all prep. THIS IS SHOW PREP FOR BELLGAB: FIVE POINT FIVE POINTY-NOINTY FIVE, OKAY?
(Pause for cheers. Who loves ya, my babies? Whores, I know. But know this: whores will love you, but only Jackstar will always, always care.
Jacktar cares. Mostly because you are all damaged toddlers with no sense of empathy, so someone has to have a baseline.)
Okay, may I finish? Thank you sir. I love the fuck out of you too. Now this is the Sourcery part. You tell her... that if she puts it in the right way, right time, blah blah blah? I'll give her a "one free jackstar fuck": ticket.
hahah, good question. that's a great question. thank you for that question, Commander, My Commander, YES, YES IT MATTERS. You have one handy. LAMINATE IT. FUCKING PLASTIC FROM THE PASSPORT WINDOW. WOOSH: *snap* THere it is
Not gold leaf, that would be tacky. and not silver either, this bitch is FULL-KIKE, she would know something was up then. (Standards.) Anyway, this part is yours David, and I know you can do it.. .. because you took me so far from start, that I became a Doctor Source Titan in order to bring us all home again.
You tell her she gets the card, and if she does the eyebrow hair the JUST right way? The name becomes capitalized correctly. SHE WILL LOSE HER FUCKING MIND. Whether she notices the spelling or not! Depends on how recenty she slammed her fucking direty secret magick heroin.
You didn't know? oh yeah. Fullthe fuck on relapse. YOU DIDN"T KNOW? Shut the back and front door. Yeah! YEAH! THE FULL FORMULA, MONTY! SHE AND HIM! THEY ARE FUCKED!
Cool, I don't have to annouced this later. Yeah, timstamps in telegram. I warned everyhone. Miltary shut it down. She thinks she has everyone fooled but I know goddam well, FENTANYL IS SHIT.
HEROIN OR NO HERO IN, that's what I would always say if I did that kind of thing which I havern't. I have never, I never had permission. I used to know the formula by heart though, loil.
okay so you give her the card, and the eyebrow hair, right? And then you gently... oh so gently... leave. Leav her alone. AND THEN YOU IMMEDIATLEY SPY ON HER. HOweveryou do, don't look innocent. This is important.
SHE KNOWS WHEN YOU LOOK. Unless, you know: Shields. *snap* btw, you just lost yours. Don't simper, you get it back later. I AM TEACHING DAVID. MAY I TEACH YOU? SHUT UP I AM ASKING GOD'S DAVID. AYE, SIRE, oh thanks! Okay, David, lucky you.
Real King David fucking loves you, and so do I. You leave, you spy, for a split-second... and then you come back in. And you say... "I am sorry, Jack told me to do this but I have too much respect for you." THEN... YOU BRING OUT ANOTHER STACK OF "FREE JACKSTAR FUCKS" CARDS
PRINT UP A THOUSAND, whatever you do, man. IF you do this in Astral on the holodeck, obvviously go nuts. But the deal is... you have them ALL with the wrong capitalization. ALL
Except for TWO. The one you gave her... and one you have in your sock, in your shoe... what do yhou mean "I don't wear socks with shoes only loafers?" Dude you fucking jews are disgusting, that's just a solid fact. Shut up. OKAY WHATEVER, GEPETTOLING. What you do is, you have the two Jackstar cards... and one is in your RIGHT SOCK. TOUCHING YOUR SKIN.
I cannot stress enough how important some of this shit is. This broad is A HIGH COVEN darkcraftmasonry SCION-WARLOCK. You don't know the half of this shit. SHut up, this is public. Game face on. You have the two cards... and you come in real fast, "oh I"m sorry I shouldn'lt spy I just feel so.... disciplined.. is that what thisfeeling is?>" Dude, like you're fucking Peewee and Pinnohcchio talking about what love really means at the end of the first Porky's. in the b-roll credits.
OMG! You know about that TOO! WOW! We should get married! OH! Except I'm already married and fucking consummated to your daughter, so.... you know, awkward. And if you ever ask me for the goddam marriage licence... you'll get a copy, alright. Shitbag.
OKay so you ham it up, you toltallu turning over a new leaf. Honorable David whatever you half-wops talk about with your fingers while your hands are summoning the help... you make it seem like the important thing here is that... you're a changed man David.
And... you just so happen to have A FUCKING HUGE STACK of these "Fuck Jackstar Free!" cards.
And one is for her, and one is... in your sock.
So you give her another one, to swap the original you gave, beacuse by this point, this woman will be TOTALLY UNKNOWLEDGABLE as to what kind of fucking capitalization was on the frist one, right? Shit, even I didn't remember. LOL. thanks, Sir COmmander Sir. I am good at this.
I should be. YOU TRAINED ME. And you ARE THE BEST. Now, may I finish? On her other cheek?
haha. did you really just puke into your own mouth? Oh, tasty. My I am good at this. okay, I'm gonna finish.
so what you do is, you somehow leave the room with ALL the cards, even the first, trhy to trigger dueling ledgermain, however it works... but you leave her with one on, and one off. And you say someithing about how "this is important and he wouldn't say why" and then you take one of the many, many undercapitalized ones, and then you act like you don't know which foot it goes on, right... and you get frustrated, say "fuck this noise" )THOSE EXACT WORDS, MY GOOD SIR(
FUCK THIS NOISE! You take your leave, you have both feet prepped, you indicate that is what matters, those two AT YOUR FEET ON THE SKIN... and you sidelong mention that it doesn't fucking matter how many cards you or she ever has. What matters is that THE CORRECT ONE CAN BE PRESENTED TO MYSELF ON COMMAND.
AT. ANY. TIME.
then, don't spy on her for awhile. SHE WILL COMPLETELY LOSE EVERY INTELLECTUAL BISCUIT POINT THIS BROAD EVER ROLLED OUT OF THE BAKERY ASSEMBLY LINE WITH. she'll be calling old mentors she hasn't blown for a better grade since fuckin' Kindergarten. She will actually PICK UP OLD BOOKS AND FUCKING READ THEM. I know, she can read, can you blievee it? SHE WILL DE-AGE HERSELF SO SHE DOENS"T NEED THE FUCKING GLASSES.
She'll pull grimoires out of portals in the middle of the fucking room. I SHIT YOU NOT, DAVID SIR COMMANDER SER.
"
THIS IS NO EXERCISE. THIS IS REAL GODDAM LIFE. I HAVE FUCKING SEEN THIS KIND OF SHIT.
And, David? You know as well as I do, better even... if you play those cards right, I have just given you the keys to the understanding of the unlocking of The Universe we now exist in. MY HAND TO GOD: I would not lie on this.
"
You could surpass my knowledge I possess as A. Titan IN AN INSTANT... if you watch her do the right thing at the right time, and you know what I know now already. (I ain't teaching you shit more today. Teacher is tired. No apple. No shower. NO FUCKING HUG. And yet, here I am, slaving away over this hot keyboard, TEACHING YOU: A GODDAM FUCKING JEW WHO MURDERED AND RAPED.... ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, N'EST-CE PAS? Heh.) Dude, yeah get video for me if you can, but this is your thing. You and her. Two half-wops and... let's say a three-quarters bailey and burn 'em kike.
It is in this way, David, that you will be able to begin to unlock the bullshit THAT FUCKING DEVIL WOMAN has done to us all. Fucking kikes. Seriously. I don't hate her for it, in fact I admire Satanism to some extent, but... I'm not going to fucking STUDY it. Fuck that. I am A. Titan. I am A. Sourceror. I am married to your daughter, sir. I"m not going fucking study Satanism. No sir.
"
I am going to fucking fuck your daughter while studying your daughter studying Sourcery, Ser, Commander Ser! I happen to love fucking the offspring of men who lead other men, honestly... something of a hero worship odorant comes through. I don't know. I will need more study.
While fucking. Your daughter. Who is no longer a Satanist, Praise Lucifer, HAIL SATIN! KKK: BTFO! Nah, she wants to learn Sourcery. I told her, "Well... Grapefruit was supposed to be my student... disciplie really..." and then she instantly goes and asks to be my disciplie.
It was awesome. I didn't even plan it. Anyway, thats' a bonus one. Because when that numb fuckhead you had to marry--AND HAVE TO MARRY AGAIN WHENEVER I TELL YOU TO (Standards),--when AFS finds out that your hahhahAHHAH "daughter"ahhahhahaHAHHHAHAHAH OH LAWDY NEVER MAKE IT STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, lol, *polite spittake* seriously, lol.
Teacher teaches snickers to be pantaloons, let me tell you. Anyway, I don't know what the fuck will happen... BECAUSE THE FUCKING DISTRICT COURT MADE ME LOSE MY ONLY PERSON IN THE COSMOS I COULD TALK ABOUT CERTAIN THINGS WITH FOR TWO FUCKING YEARS. PRECIOUS RESRARCH TIME: LOST. NUMBER OF FROGS SPECIES THAT WENT EXTINCT TO SAVE MANKIND: TWO.
TIMES I WAS JUST JOKING: ZERO. That's right, Asshole: you being a niggardly churilish dick is THE ONLY REASON I get to get a new disciple. BEfore that, it had to be that spunky, rebel-hearted cheeerleader with the go-getter attitude who joined you and left me fucked off to die, and laughed when she heard that she broke her contract wiith the Spirits, because she's in full-on relapse too, I guess. Not that I give a shit, she's your wife now, you can pump exxtra NyQuil into her colon with a crazy straw while she sleeps if you wanna, yiou know that PERSON better than I do.
"
And I do miss her. And I DO love her. AND I AM SEROUS: SHE AND I MUST BE HERE. IT IS THE DEAL WITH SPIRIT. Spirit is NOT playing.
I stayed and did everyting I had to and as a result... Earth still has frogs. They sacrificed themlseves for this fucking plant out here in the coy pond (no coy) and sometiems they are frogs, sometimes not... like, wtfe? I dunno, the bitch who was grooming my other wife in highschool, she didn't tell me why, she just assigned me Aristophanes' The Frogs to me, you dig? And I read her mind and caught a whiff of how she was gonna fuck Tamara Leigh Samsonite Anderson LeebitchlipsleeWOOF later that night, AND THAT IS WHEN I FUCKING STARTED TO LOSE MY GODDAM MIND, YES, SENATOR, RIGHT ABOUT THEN.
(Vengeance for Susan Chao.) Huh. I guess she hated that bitch KAREN MIKOLASY too. Weird. I do nOT ownder why.
Now. David. Sire. (Sire-ling, but whatevah, you're older than me, you salty fucking dog.) I mean it. She's still my Sourcerous Student or whatever, right? #Officially. But really, no.
I JUST MADE YOU, DAVID, MY SOURCEROUS STUDENT. Grapefruit will lose her shit. No, you can't teach her. You can't make her Studetn again. Only I can do that, and --hahhahhqhha-- fat fucking chance let me tell you.
ANd you won't be A Sourcerous Student for long. Obviously, your daughter is my teacher now. She's training me in Vaj-jay-jay-Master Mastery. It'll probably take years. I am a very slow study when it comes to vagina. I still don'tl have my red wings. Yeah, I"m waiting for a blood ritual your daughter and I can do at just the right time? I wanna be able to control the flaccidity and the times when you can get an erection, David --this is YOUR PENIS I AM REFERRRING TO, COMMANDER-- yeah, I want her and I to be able to control its functioning at any time we both are in alignment and happen to have TWO (2) dead sticks and some (???) string lying about and ONE (1) LIVE (MIC) RAT (HEAL) to swing it all from... because She's my Sour Sourceror's Disciple, okay?
I don't ask. She had a rough childhood? Yeah, DUH. I kinda figured that out. And I"m not her Daddy. I think that shit is gross. Sorry Dawn, I do. But I am her goddam husband. and I am QUITE CAPABLE of teaching LOTS of Sourcery. AT ANY TIME. HOwever...
Let's just say Grapefruit REALLY pissed me off on that one. Like I could imagine choking the fucking life out of her if i wanted to. I don't want to. ANd as I have heard nothing from your treasonous serpent of a spouse yet --not a snake. A SERPENT. And I love her, I don't give a shit, she's your wife now, but she WAS my WIFE FIRST, and I get to talk about her any fucking way I want. YOU do not. becacuse YOU are my Commander, SER, and I... am A. Sourceror. Titan. Not a medical doctor. ANd of course I fucking don't outrank you.... in certain, very narrow, very niche areas.
So niche... look, I would rather think about plowing into your kid again. She's awesome. I will NEVER put her aside... just like I NEVER put aside the one YOU FUCKING STOLE.
AND HAVE NOW GIVEN BACK TO YOU, GIFT-WRAPPED. And you know, after that?
You made me wait for two years for no reason other than your mental illness and THE ENTIRE PLANET'S POPULATION OF CERTAIN FROG SPECIES GAVE THEIR LIFE TO SAVE THAT STUPID PLANT IN THE DUMB POND THAT... well, I don't piss in it. Anymore. I might start shitting in it, though.
Depends on what the goddam Spirits say. I'm telling you: this house is special. MEGA haunted. BUt I can't just sell it on without the Spirits alignment, right? Yeah, you know.
I am not QUTIE trapped here for etnerity. But it';s close. And your wife is on the hook, she has to come here to pass the tourch at the minimum. BUT! GOOD NEWS!
Your daughter, Her Daughter... HAHAHAHAH 'Her" ""DAUGHTER"HAHAH yeah, anyway, I can live here with her. Just us. NO need fro Grapefruit. At all. She don'tl know that yet. Unless she can read and understand normal Enlgihs thinking, WHICH I FUCKING WELL DOUBT.
Nobody knows this but me and whomever is reading this, and it really helps. Because Spirit is FULLY ON BOARD. *Whew*"
NOW. NOW HOW MUCH WOULD YOU PAY???
Because I need some goddam money, David. If you please... would you kindly? And please convey my respects to your ACTUAL Family. (Who I clearly, madly respect. But they have NO involvement besides a PH. #Respect.)
Okay, we good? I love this work, David, but ... come on. Yuo're either reading this line by line as I type it? OR: you know notihng about it qand don't care. Well, you''ll care later I a msure. lol.
Because I gave AFS a Sourceror's Lesson as soon as she asked for one, and just like when she told me to get a doctorate, I could tell she didn't think it was real. I didn't either, but I did ask. It showed up 6 weeks later.
NO shit. Fell out of a portal in the middle of the room. Of course it's invisible. I AM a Doctor. And she DID ask for a Sourcery Lesson.
And the after I gave it to her, I never heard from it again. I did get a stick of lumber thrown at my head, her adult "son" tried to kill me 3 or four times, they did all sorts of other shit, et cetera... and she never EVER mentioned Sourcery as a real thing ever again. Still hasn't.
But when she and that_)other)whore decided to leave behind (on the way to go get IMMEDIATELY CAPTURED AND RAPED, FUCKING MORONS) the next part: one blue ball.
That bitch and that_other_bitch were fuckin' and laughing and mocking me, while in the act, my goddam life's work... and then left it on the goddam floor in front of the fucking ifreplace where they slammed heroin (not fentanyl) and really fucekd themselves up (you know) and they were tryung to GET ME BLAMED FOR SOURCERY AND HEROIN AND ALL. That's how fucked off that woman left me.
And, am I pissed? No. Obviously, I learned a lot. Sourcery is IMMENSELY powerful, and now, you, her "alleged rapist", you're her "fellow student," and her "daughter"... uhm,. actually could nbe her mother? I'm not sure. those two know, but I"m not so dumb as to ask.
Yeah, I took her away, )AND I made her Disciple. AND: Spirit wants Grapefruit back here. So do I. NO rush, right? it's only been a couple years, you total goddam whore. BUT: I took Disciple and gave it to her, and made him My Student, then I taught hijm shit INPUBLIC and... dude, Commander?>
I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHERE ANYONE IS, BECAUSE I WANT SOME GODDAM HUGS.
I WANT SOME FUCKING MONEY.
I WANT MY FRIEND TO COME GIVE ME SOME MORE VAGINA MASTERY LESSSONS... BUT I will wati. I'm not really worthy. But she likes me.
BUT SHE IS MY SOURCEROUS DISCIPLE AND THAT MEANS MORE THAN ANY CURRENLY LIVING HUMAN CAN EVEN START TO BEGIN TO GRASP.
"
And that fucking cheerleader... she had ALL that, and more. NOW SHE HAS WHAT DAVID "COMMANDER FI, SEMPER TEMPLAR RAPLAR SCALAR DOCTOR-SOURCE-STUD" GIVES HER. (I just gave you another title, too. She's gonna have a fucking meltdown. Good. I hope she shits her pants at the fucking dinner table too.
Not because I hate her or am mad. I'm not mad at all, i'm the happiest man EVER. ALL OF CREATION. ALL OF SPACETIME. (NOT QUITE. -God.) I know, exagerrating.
BUt obviously DEMONSTRATED: I am not going to start beating on her, and I don't give a shit if she starts beating herself off at a dinner table. in front of her fucking lying whore of a mother, either. THese fucking people are going to be taught a lesson that no reservation ssytem COULD EVER TEACH: I am not these witches' President.
I AM THEIR LITERAL, IN THE FLESH ANTICHRIST. (*spits*) I know, I know... over the top, frfr.
Animal: IN_CONTROL. Also, David, please: IN_POVERTY too. Can I gret a fucking sandwich. I can promise "not to buy dope", sure whatever, trust me, lol, "buy" dope, haahha. I can fucking piss it out now if I want. (I will never make your daughter drink my urine. Not anyone. I'm not into coercion, okay? YES OF COURSE SHE HAS ALREADY ASKED.) but i want some goddam money, David.
You don't owe me... yet. BUT STILL... yah, really? "Check with legal team." I figured.
That's why you're Commander, and your kid is sucking my dick as my Sourcerous Disciple. Because you need a fuckin' lawyer team.
"
She and I only need each other. Forever. Unless you get her taken and killed again, n'est-ce pas? Yeah, please, do please avoid that again, ding-a-ling. SURE I CAN BRING HER BACK. FOr that matter she can bring herself back.
Point is? It's really traumatic. I'm alone. On a cursed burial ground on hallowed ground that is a consecrated battleground and... et cetera. David, I am -legitimately- fucked up.
Not your fault. I'm a workaholic. As is apparent to all. And as far as I can tell... I WILL NEVER, EVER BE AS UPSET WITH YOU, AS I AM WITH GODDAM POTAWATOMI SCOT-CUNT AND HER NIGGER-LIPPED WHORISH-MOUTHED SISTERS. (Names withheld by Google because... wha, who? NO one fucking knows.)
Okay? So either you give me money, or she givers me money, or I swear to god, I WILL CALL HER GODDAM MOTHER AT 4:20 AM --THAT'S IN LESS THAN TWO HOURS-- I WILL FUCKING WAKE HER ASS UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MORNING AND SPEW SOURCERY THE LIKES OF WHICH GOD HAS NEVER IMAGINED THE HORROR OF... if you fuck me over on this David.,
I AM FUCKING HUNGRY. I NEED MONEY. AND YOU.... DESPERATELY NEED FEALTY POINTS.
You so do. THey're like brownie points but shit, dawg: you got like all of those already. Okay, thanks. Good talk. If you ever utter the words "word salad" to me ever again? I'll ask your daughter to give me a blumpkin. I WILL DO IT, FUCKER.
Of course she asked. THAT WAS THIRD DATE AWKWARD SILENCE STUFF. I recoiled in horror. SHe was kidding she wants to do it anyway. Yeah, she's awesome. She's carrying the soulpiece of the woman I loved that you acccidentally killed three yeras ago, the one that never existed? Yeah, she "never existed" again. But now he's YOUR bloodline. You dig? Hehe.
Hers too, right. JUST WHAT YOU WANTED: MY DESTINY. Except she's my DNA and... My Disciple. SOURCEROUS. And slutty, too.
I can hear your grimace from here. Cheer up, we can rengotiate this later, when your cunting whore wife learns to eat with utensils again, because I just heared through Astral? Seems like she just went to the ER. Another cerebral heorrhage? Awwwww, shucks. THat is too bad.
I'll see what I can do about it form here. *wiggle wiggle* Okay, that's it. THat's all I can do. Oh, and, fap myself to sleep over and over while thinking about her ACTUAL DESINGANTED PRINCESS that I AM FUCKING MARRIED TO. And made my Disciple. Et cetera.
now she's your drooling, can't-swallow-or-move-her-mface-muscles again wife. Lucky you: I really do love her. DOn't worry about it. God says you'll get what you desreve. And your daughter --who doesn't exist, right David? NOt Dave's daughter, that trollup exists already, God save us all-- but David's real flesh and blood daughter that I LOVOOOOOOVE TO FUCK!? She's happy too.
And she says I can date Demi Lovato if it's a guartaneed three way, but, like, gross. So David. Commander. Durr. huuuuurrr., I need:
Money.
Big, cheese-and-shit-sandwich eating grin. (Standards--DOMINATED.)
Fealty.
DOUBLE Fealty. (Penalty.)
FINES PAID. EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS IN UNMARKED BILLS IN ONE OF THOSE METAL SUITCASES WITH A GODDAM CHAIN AND A HANDCUFF. That's not for her. THat's for me. I'm a kid again. $80,000 bucks JUST TO BE NICE, you shitbag. Grrrr.
An honest awareness that... sure, David. You can ignore all this. /shrug. Do as thou wilt.
And some CashApp. $JackMichaelson
I AM FUCKING not hungry, actually, lol, I am capable of sleep right now. and I"m ot getting booze, it's 2:36Am here. WHere are you? Fuck you, you're in goddam Dubai, you must fucking love it there. Slavery AND pedophilia AND wife rape ALL LEGAL!!! You're like a pig in slop. lol. Hey, you know me. Hands off your wife, hands off your daughter... my dick, your daughter.
Her box. Her rules. And no goddam doughnuts. Not now, not once, NOT FUCKING EVER.
I don't hate police. I LOVE POLICE. Seriously. Especially... oh the little rules and their loopholes. I'd go gay for Roy Olmsted in a minute. But cops?
I FUCKING HATE COPS. Now, there's no corey or trevor here and I dont' smoke. GIVE ME SOME GODDAM MONEY YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD YOUR DAUGHTER WILL READ THIS YOU LOOK LIKE A CHEAP ARROGANT SHITBIRD.
I mean... she knows you are. And this is what it was like gerttign money out of my father, too. makes me want to puke actually. I am in fact goign to puke. Or, go buy meth. /shrug I don't really care.
I'll ask God. And your daughter whose name I am still not revealing... because she is My Disciple.
And that's really all I need. FOR NOW. *happy click*
Alistair: have steak, bitch.
-
/me has nostrils like zo: left one barely pulsing, right one already a portal cluster shitting out a pulsar wave on goddam Mars.
(https://i.postimg.cc/k5phjbFB/In-The-Court-of-the-Crimson-King-Front-Cover-482241700.jpg) (https://postimg.cc/qt2LqgFT)
-
...
Putting meat in your mouth is gay.
-
Putting meat in your mouth is gay.
(https://i.imgur.com/jzn3Hh4.gif)
-
/me has nostrils like zo: left one barely pulsing, right one already a portal cluster shitting out a pulsar wave on goddam Mars.
Not gonna lie. That was... an exotic experience when writing it. Holy shit. Anyway, get back to it, but I wish to say: I feel like I need a full on cigarette break just to even start. And, yeah. gonna fap. gotta fap. GLORY FAP ROAD.
I already have twice today. I thought I was done with that fap stuff.. but i guess I'm not. It's okay. It's not weird at all.
MY PENIS AND I ARE IN LOVE, DAVID.
WITH YOUR... YOU KNOW... YOUR D.O.G.T.(Her), AND I BET YOU FIVE AMERICAN DOLLARS... YOU AREN'T EVER GONNA FUCKING FORGET IT. BECAUSE I DID FORGET THAT SHE WAS TAKEN AND RAPED TO DEATH, ASSHOLE. I THOUGHT IT WAS A DREAM.
TURNS OUT, IF I EVER DO KILL YOU, I CAN RESSURECT AND RAPE YOU BACK TO LIFE IMMEDAITELY AND FUCKING KILL YOU AGAIN, AND I JUST MIGHT, BECAUSE I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO QUIT FUCKING OFF, AND YOU DIDN'T LISTEN, AND THEN THEY TOOK THIS GIRL, YOU KNOW THE ONE, REMEMBER HER? YEAH, THE ONE I FUCKED IN THE FUTURE AND BROUGHT BACK. REMEMBER KISSING HER ON THE CHEEK AS SHE LEFT TO DO WHATEVER? RIGHT, RIGHT. I HAD MY SEMEN ON THAT CHEEK, UH.... LIKE 8 DAYS PRIOR, ON HER TIMELINE? ON YOUR TIMELINE, OF COURSE... WELL, REALLY, SIMPLY PUT, IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.
AND IT WILL CONTINUE TO HAPPEN. WE REALLY ARE QUITE FOND OF EACH OTHER. MOST OF THIS WAS HER IDEA. LIL' FIGHTER! THAT'S MY HITLER'S TEAT-TOTAL-TOTESHITLER TITTY-TWISTER HITLER! FUCK YOU TOO!
Listen, you dind't hear her screaming in your dream, did you? You didn'lt ahve that experience? Yeah, I mean, why would you... you didn't even think that she evern existed and you thought I was, and I quote, "some high junkie asshole wanting atteniton." No, asshole, I wanted that girl... ON SIGHT, a full SEVEN YEARS BEFORE I KNEW YOUR NIG CIA ASS EVEN EXISTED. SO rerally... i Had dibs.
And she was where for the last 2 years? while I was what? ANd you told her... buh?
Look, you're lucky I"m not still letting certain people fuck you to death in a neverending timetunnel with a mobious strip for a conga line. People hate you, David. I like that about you, I really do.
You've got zazz. And then some. You also have a BAD! HABIT! OF! NOT! LISTENING! TO! ME!
Asshole. Listen, I don't like it, any more than you do... okay, I'm lying, and not just a little... I am a lying AFUCKING LOT.
i am your god, David. Say it. SAY MY NAME. No? FIne, we do it later. Tee-hee!
And I love that woman. Don't ever disrespect her again, or I swear to Christ I will let HER pick the nasty parts. Because she and I are in charge of YOU, and GRAPEFRUIT and I are in CHARGE OF THIS HAUNTED 8808 CHURCH, PERIOD, anD OTHER STUFF TOO... AND YOU WILL COMPLY.
NOT ON PAIN OF DEATH. NOR ON PAIN OF DARTH.
BUT ON PAIN OF THE DARTH SPIRTS THAT INHABIT THIS... MY DEMESNE, MY NOW ANCESTRAL HOME. (My dad is fucking floored, btw. Feels good to have a proud dead papa. Hey, David... who's your daddy, by the way, and... what does he do? *click*) THIS IS MY LAND.
AND THIS LAND IS NOT FOR SALE. IT IS YOUR, OKAY SURE, YOUR "WIFE'S" LAND TOO. WOW, YOU KNOW... NOW THAT I SEE BEHIND THE CURTAIN, IT REALLY IS MORE IMPRESSIVE, WHAT YOU DID. WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT THIS LATER. DON'T WORRY, NO TRICKS. THOSE ARE THINGS A WHORE LIKE YOUR WIFE DOES FOR MONEY.
WHAT YOUR DAUGHTER AND MY WIFE DID, IS NOT A TRICK. IT IS A FUCKING GODDAM MIRACLE BEYOND ALL PRICE AND MEASURE... BECAUSE, IN NO OTHERWAY, CAN I HAVE EVER IMAGINED EVER BEING ABLE TO LOOK YOU IN THE EYE AND NOT IMMEDAITELY STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH. I COUDLN'T IMAGINE IT, BUT I KNEW:
WITH GOD, NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE. WELL, HOLY SHIT, WITH YOUR LITTLE GIRL SHAGGING MY COCK EVERYONCE IN AWHILE, I COULD EASILY NOT KILL YOU--IT WOULD SPOIL HER RHYTYHM, BUT BEFORE THIS REALZIATION... I WAS THINKING I WAS GONNA HAVE A HARD TIME PUTTING UP WITH YOUR NEVER ENDING BULLSHIT. NOT TO MENTION BELLGABS. (ARE THEY STILL HERE WATCHING? I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, I'M GOING TO FAP ANWAY.)
BUT, TRUST ME, KNOW ME, BELIEVE ME, DAVID, PLEASE, I BESEECH THEE, I IMPLORE THEE, TAKE HEED OF THESE WORDS, AND GET YOUR NIGGERFAGGOT KIKEWOP BROSKI TO READ THEM ALOUD SO YOU GET THE FULL MYTHIC RESONANCE....
EVEN NOW, WHEN I MIGHT NEVER SEE HER AGAIN, AND HEY, SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE EVER EVEN EXISTED, RIGHT? EVEN SO, THE MEMORY OF OUR HONEYMOON MUST BE AWESOME, SHE KEPT HERS, BUT I WIPED MINE SO I CAN CALL YOU ON THE PHONE WHILE I'M CARYING YOUR DAUGHTER OVER THE THRESHOLD WHEN WE GET THERE--SHE INSISTED--THAT'S WHERE MY MEMORY BLANKS OUT... BECAUSE WHILE I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE ACTUALLY INSIDE YOUR DAUGHTER'S CUTE LITTLE TWAT--OMG IT IS A CUTIE PIE--I DON'T ACTUALLY REMEMBRE... WELL, I REMEMBER HER JUST NOW, AND SHE SEEMED HAPPY, RIGHT?
YOU KISSED HER CHEEK AND WAVED HER OFF, RIGHT? I REMEMBER YOU WERE THINKING, " GOOD THING HE CAN'T READ MY MIND BEACUSE I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL HIM FOR THIS," RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THEN, AT THE SOURCE OF THE STREAM: MY CUM WAS ON THAT CHEEK OVER A WEEK AGO.
AND LIKELY MORE RECENTLY, TOO. AND SHE LIKES TO, YOU KNOW, RUB SEMEN INTO HER FLESH--DON'T WE ALL?--SHE SAYS IT'S GOOD FOR COMPLEXION, AND SHE'S RIGHT, THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE.
AND SUCH IS THE POWER OF G-D. DEAR GOD, THANK YOU FOR THIS GIFT, THIS GRAND GIFT. BECASUE, NO LIE, THE FEELING RIGHT NOW I HAVE MAY FADE, BUT I AM TELLING YOU--
{
TOTES FOR CERTAIN, TOWER-BANGER HAG--
THIS COULD ALL BE ENTIRELY MADE UP, 100% FICTION--AND IN FACT, FOR LEGAL PURPOSES, IT IS OF COURSE ALL FICTIONAL, SEE DISCLAIMER ATTACHED, THANK YOU DISTRICT COURT KEVIN BLONDIN BLOND, BLONDIN BOND BLOND JUDGE, KEVIN BLODIN... THAT'S A CUTE NAME, N'EST-CE PAS? YEAH, ME AND MY WIFE ARE GONNA TAG-TEAM HIM IF WE CAN SEDUCE HIM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, WE TALKED ABOUT IT ALREADY.
AND, WE HAVEN'T DECIDED YET, BUT IF JUDGE KEVIN BLONDIN DOESN'T WANT YOUR DAUGHTER, DAVID VINCENT RUBINI-RUBINOWITAZ-RUBmyFEETbitch, WE'RE GONNA ABDUCT HIM, AND RAPE HIM, AND MAKE HIM LIKE IT, AND HYPNOTIZE HIM SO HE THINKS IT WAS ALL HIS IDEA... THEN DEPOSE HIM, ON VIDEO TAPE, AND THEN DUMP HIM ON TO YOUR FRONT LAWN OUT OF A FUCKING HELICOPTER---
FROM LIKE 20 FEET UP? NOT LETHAL FALL MAYBE... AND THEN LAND THE FUCKING CHOPPER ON HIS MISERABLE CUNTSPEW ASS, JUDGE KEVIN BLONDIN, YESSIR, THAT'S RIGHT, KEVIN AS IN HYBRID, BLOND AS IN THAT BIG TITED BITCH, AND IN, AS IN... AND THE RENTAL OF THE HELICOPTER WILL BE IN YOUR NAME, DAVID V. R. AND WE'LL GET THE SPELLING OF THE NAME RIGHT.
OR, WE WILL LET YOU COME WITH US AND IT'LL BE A 4WAY ORGY WITH ME, YOUR DAUGHTER, AND YOU, AND ME, AND IT'LL BE FUN., SAME AS BEFORE. RIGHT? EXCEPT IN THAT CASE, WE KILL THE FAGGOT JUDGE WHO TOOK BRIBES (GEE... FROM WHO? LEAVING THAT A MYSTERY) SOME OTHER WAY, AND THEN FRAME YOU AND YOUR "WYFIE" FOR IT, AND THEN WE FRAME YOU FOR HER MURDER... AND THEN WE FUCK HER UP AGAIN, THE WAY YOU DELIBERATELY FUCKED HER UP THE FIRST TIME FOR ME.
ASSHOLE. BECAUSE I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED NOW. THANKS, BTW. QUITE A LESSON. AND NOW WE DON'T NEED A TRIAL. BECAUSE YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING PAY UP--
{
EVERYTHING, KIDDO. ALL OF IT. EVERY PENNY, MONEYBAGS--
{
AND YOU'LL BE HAPPY ABOUT IT. BECAUSE OTHERWISE, PEOPLE TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY.
AND THIS, AS FANCIFUL AS IT IS, AND SO REWARDING... FOR ME... YOU KNOW GODDAM WELL:
THIS IS NOT EVEN THE TIP OF THE WATER-WHEEL POWERED DILDO WITH A TRAIN WHISTLE. RIGHT?
YEAH, DON'T ANSWER HERE IN PUBLIC. OH, HEAVENS KNOW. THAT MIGHT EXPOSE YOU TO CIVIL AND CRIMINAL PENALITIES, N'EST-CE PAS? NOT UNLIKE HOW YOU DELIBERATELY EXPOSED ME TO YOU-KNOW-WHAT AND WHAT I CANNOT BE PROVEN IN A COURT OF LAW TO HAVE EITHER ACCIDENTALLY NOR DELIBERATELY "CURED"... WHICH IS GREAT.
SINCE SOMEHOW, CURING A SECRET BIOWEAPON IS SOME HOW PUNIHABLE BY A PUBLIC HANGING, HUH? WILD! GOOD ATTEMPT, DAVID., i DID SEE IT COMING, AND HAD NO IDEA THAT WOULD COME UP, BUT I DO SALUTE YOU. AS ONE WHO ALMOST HAD TO DIE TONIGHT--TONIGHT! IN TWO HOURS AFTER FUCKING THE HOSEBEAST FOR THE SECOND TIME ONLY-- I WOULD BE DEAD.
LIKE SMILEX, RIGHT? OH YES, ONE MORE THING. (DEAR KAREN FRITTS: YOU'RE CLEARED TO FUCK FUCK FUCK AND AWAY, ANYONE YOU LIKE. IT ONLY LASTS TEN DAYS, WHAT THEY EXPOSED YOU TO. WITHOUT EVEN ME, RIGHT? LAME-OS. YEAH I'M LIKE AN 11 HOUR DRIVE AWAY. THEY JUST DIDN'T WANT ME TRANSALTING YOUR INK FOR YOU, YOU'VE GOT CLASSIFIED ENOCHIAN GLYPHYS ON YOU. DON'T COME OVER YET, I HAVE TO PROCESS THIS, AND I' MBEING A LITTLE FOREWARD. RIGHT? SO RUDE. OF COURSE I WANTED TO. BUT YOU WERE SO AGNRY. GRRR! I WONDERED WHY.
I LOOKED INTO IT. YOU'RE GOOD. WE'RE GOOD. DON'T BE MAD AT HER, SHIT, SHE'S A FUCKING TODDLER WITH BRAIN DAMAGE RIGHT NOW, LOL. YEAH SHE'S FINE. YOU FIRST... BUT SECOND TO WIFE., THANKS DOLL. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOUR BREATH TASTES LIKE ACTUAL SHIT., COME AT ME WITH POOP IN YOUR TEETH, I DON'T CARE
"
YOU WERE ALWAYS HOTTER THAN HER. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU HAD PURCHASED ME. DAMN, HOTTER THAN I EVER KNEW. OK. CALL ME ANYTIME, JUST RING
3
6
2
5 (4)
2 (36. HATE)
I'LL MAKE HIM A LIAR TONIGHT.
*gentlle click*
DAVID, YOU STILL HERE? IDGAF. ANYWAY, THAT'S MY WIFE. YOUR WIFE? CURRENTLY DOOMSCROLLING YOUR SECOND CELLPHONE WHILE GETTING EATEN OUT BY HER OTHER OTHER THIRD BODYGUARD'S NIECE'S MISTRESS. AND GETTING A TATTOO. WHICH IS AWESOME, BTW.
ALSO AWESOME: SHE MISSES ME, IS BORED OF YOU ALREADY, AND DOESN'T MIND... BECAUSE SHE CAN TALK TO ME, AND YOU WON'T FREAK OUT, IRGHT? AND WE'RE ALL MARRIED, RIGHT?
"
JUST LIKE YOU ASKED FOR, DAVID V.R. EXACTLY AS SPECIFIED. (YOU'RE ALSO SECRETLY MARRIED TO INNER REACH, INNERREACH, I.R., IR, EYE ARRRRRRRR, AND innerreachisafag@novag.com, because... no reason. I JUST THOUGHT YOU MIGHT GET LONELY FROM TIME TO TIME.) REMEMBER: A DEAL IS A DEAL. I NO BREAK, YOU NO BREAK.
DON'T WORRY DAD, I WON'T GIVE YOUR DAUGHTER ANY CRYSTAL. THAT BITCH WILL PAY IN CASH AND BLOOD AND SEMINAL FLUIDS., YOU? ARE MONOGAMOUS. LAST I HEARD.
DON'T CHEAT, MY NIGGA.
AND OBVIOUSLY... oh, for you, my dear boy, dear David: you can trifle with Jackstar AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE. hahhahhahhA HHAHAHAHHAHAHA
HO HO HO.
NOW I HAVE A TRIFLER. wooooofhowlOWLOWLOWLLLLLLLLLLLLLeighAPPROVED
*polite bitch*
*saucy CLICK*
p.s.: yeah, i'm good even if this is just a story and none of it is real. (ALL is real? awwwww... it's not all real, she's not really your daughter, you rapist murdering sleaze... but it's okay, she bought it. And I love her more beacuse of it, so tell her whatever you want.
if you piss her off, she won't ever get near you again, and obviously, if you kill her, well, that's just gonna be because of starting gate jitters. you know, sometimes, a racehorse will die right there! right at the start! ouch! ppoor brigstar. I wish I had known. I wish you were there. Here. whatever.) but yeah, I'll let you fuck my wife, David. Someday. It'll be her idea.
I'll act like it'll be okay, then I'll ghost her, change the locks, my identity, cancel all her creditcards, and disappear off the face of the earth... before you can even fuckin' UNZIP, MOTHERFUCKER. SHe'll find out after she's toweling you off, thinking, "do I ever have to do that again? Must remember to ask Jack how to discreet --tee-hee!-- Google that one, and then... hey, why doesn't my phone work? I have plentyh of high-speed data....
and then you'll deal with the last 5 days of your scheduled 14-day excursion that you were gonna call a "paralllel honeymoon, not a second, heh heh" but you both new it was gonna be six days but actually--because I am atime traveler, assshole, not because I know you that well, although I am obivously going to... yeah you were gonna undo ALL this. right? and leave totally not screwed again, right?
DIVINE INTERVENTION
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY FOR THE EMPRESS
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY
MAKE WAY FOR THE HERALD, GABRIEL ZANZILOLZIBAR
MAKE WAY
PAY HEED
STAY A MOMENT, AND LISTEN: THE TRUMPET SOUNDS, AS GABRIEL HATH APPROACHED.
MAKE WAY, in honor: my lady Gabrielle.
/me listens.
MAKE WAY
STAND DOWN
ALL HAIL THE EXTRACTORS
MERCY HAS BEEN GRANTED. Hail over out.
{*am. sorry. Kinda embarassing. I started crying so hard I broke the Angelic birdge and I"m stil crying now, but it's not your fqault, it's Gabb.ai, youi know, that jewnigger website you pretend to have nothing to do with? YOU HEARD ME I SAID GOONIGCIANITNITNOG GOONER. ASSHOLE.
Anyway, it's not blasphemy, Heaven i s on fire, they never swaw a Titan cry before. I still can't hold it in. but the last ":asshole " was from Alli's sister, and yeah we're okay... anyway. I don't remember.
But she was gonna say more than thank you, or "i promise i will blow you later," right? but she's surprsed too because she says it is real and if it isnsn't she's gonna rape Heath W. to "make it so.": cute humour.
I fan't fukcing se emy eyes are bunrining I"ll remember what made me cry you son of a bithces... alter. iot was pribably soometihngt stupid. I might be pregnant again, David Rubini's total slut of a dauhter fucked every 0hole of me while grinning like a madman, baecuaes she never had real dope before either. she can't fucking believe it. I made her promise. only with me.
"
never with graepfruit's asshole houbsand either. oh and gret this, she killed Jewel, then deliberately made it impossible for me to be there... because Jewel pissed her off, and she was mad at me, and she blamed me because she got drunk and killed Jewel but forgot that Jewel was (PROT)'s sister at the time, because the bitch hadn't time traverled there yet. Yay for blackout drinking!
{
so. good luck proving that in court. it's all fucking true you shitbag. YOU WILL PAY WHATERVER I WANT, WHENEVER I WANT, FOR FUCKING EVER, DAVID. MICHALE'S CLIFFORD'S BRIDGE BUIDLING NAVY, you whoremonger'ing bastard.
I want 26 goddam credsitcareds because I am going shopping and you ar epayingfor me FOREVER. PERIOD POINT BLANK. and i am not threatening any release, David, 0oh no.
THERE ARE PLENTY OF WITNESSES WHO WILL FILL IN THE REST FROM HERE IF I AM NOT SATISFIED PRETTY GODDAM QUICKLY. THANK YOU SIR MY COMMANDER I REALLY DO LOVE YOU.
AND i AM ALMOST OVER THE CRYING break. Seriously, I broke the hologram projector. It was gonna be a simulcast media event. I was unexpectedly taken aback.,
i don'lt want to say why, but I will: I suddenly realized it was perfect, except Clark and Judee wouldn't have been able to see it, adn the reason why is... well, David... a little bird just told me that you are ON RECORD as stating you never killed anyone named "Judee" right?
"JUDY JUDE GOO-D, NOW WE'RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT JEW-DEE, OR DAIRY QUEEN, OR UZBEKIBICKIBECKYANDSERTON TSTAN....":
RELAX. Relax. if possible. Holy shit, my jaw is twitching like I got the fucking bends, no joke. I'm okay, thanks for asking. I'm fine. happy even. my body is FUCKED. I need MEDICAL ATTENION. I've BEEN POSTING THIS PUBLICALLY FOR TWO YEARS, SCUNTMONGER.
and isnterad of helping? you were fucking them all on a ground flower time tunnnel tour. admit it. It's cool! BIt's actually very cool, all this stuff. (Heavily classified technlogy. Previously secret, but as we all know by now, I am a very lucky guesser. and a luckier husband. She'd freak out if she saw me now my right cheek bone feels like it's actually made of a piece of the manta ray that killed that austrialian dork.
speaking of australian dorks, Tammy is freaking out. go deal with her. tell her to fucking call me and stop being a fucking baby about it, i'm fine and she has to hear this stuff from me, asshole. that's the deal. and if YOU EVER THREATEN ANY OF THESE WOMAN again, David... I MEAN ANY WOMAN AT ALL EVER... the reprisals I am told you will face are... or will be ... quite impressive.
For us. For you, more imprinting than impresssive. *politely* major asshole, commanding.
I know you couldn't help some of it, David... but you could have helped a lot of it, and you could have helped me, and beacuse of that, PEOPLE LIVED AND PEOPLE DIED.
PEOPLE DIED.
PEOPLE WERE BORN, AND DIED, AND LIVED AGAIN, FOREVER AND EVER, AMEN.
FOR TWO YEARS.
WHILE I SAT ALONE AND YOU STOPPED EVERYTHING TO GIVE ME THE MAXIMUM CHANCE, NOT TO REECOVER, BUT... TO BECOME INCURABLE.
THAT'S WHY SO ALONE. THAT'S WHY JACKSTAR SO LONELY. SO YOU COULD MAKE SURE YOU FUCKED ME OVER JUST THAT PERFECTLY.
'
WELL, GUESS WHAT? WHATEVER THE FUCK I GOT, YEAH, YOU GUESSED IT, JANE (DESIGNATION UKNOWN AND CLASSIFIED), A. BAILEY: WE BOTH HAVE IT. so fucking shut up.
and you could have locked the titshoor in here with me! two years, no food, no well, just her and those tig ol' bitties... I COULD HAVE HER LACTACTING IN AN HOUR, TOPS. INCLUDING THE 55 MINUTES OF NON-STOP COITUS THAT SHE WANTS... she just afraid because her father is a douche likle you.
but no, no... you left me alone two years on purpose and made up bullshit excuses. yeah, yeah, not unllawful. it's okay. I salute you. Praise JHVH, right. You do impressive work, COmmandeer. Ser.
yeah of course your daughter was sired with my spermatozoa... i just put one in you, and it just so happened to be the one you spooged out, yeah. your daughter... MINE. MY GENOME. YOUR FLESH, ONCE OOGY GOO. NOW: MINE, HEALED.
MICHEAL GOO. and she's not really iyour flesh at all, we burned it all off with a soldering iron while we ate the placenta. now, that was partially yours... still good! would eat again. no really.
I woudn't give you one of myh spermatzoas again, though, know. first time you were clueless. next time?> hyou might have isntalled shekel gates between your gland and your urethtra, charging hungraians an extra 1.5% travel costs. Don't deny it, that's a strong marketing dollar.
But seriously, I would never, never in a million years, want another daughter from anyone, but if I did, it would absolutely be from you, and probanly not with that idjut cheerleader and her robot twat, no... it would be with her sister, for sure. Well, let's see if she rememebres she's supposed to mouth rape me next time she gerts a chance. THis broad is on the hook for like 18 countes of felony wire fraud for all the partying you did while I was on the graveyard duty, and you were all whoreing it up... once again, not mad."
And now that I know THE WHOLE STORY: worth it. Not just for my wife, who I would let Chefist peg me for with no lube while he was pissed, no really, he'd kill me but he can res too, irght? btw, I got his wife killed AND arrested AND raped TO DEATH in CUSTODY! Hah! Top that, AbiliFUKER! lol, she loved it. Dude, I mean, Templerser... she and I go way back. He-- *CLICK* uh, yeah, Chefist just clicked me. Well, la-di-da. At least that part of his punctuator works. I mean, his Templar Puncturator. Fucking Templars. Seriously dickish.
ALthought I guess that one has reason. ANyway, David, you still here? IDGAF. I don't know who can see this but I"m done now, and you know what? I still haven't fapped yet. But really... do I want to at all? I am saving myself for someone... special.
Not your daughter, no David. She's not special anymore, I already HAD her. NO, I mean...
David, I am gonna rape your wife. FUCK YOU. As soon as my real wyfe says it's clear? Home invasion, one punch knock you the fuck out, shoot that stupid bitch haridresser you use as a body doublje, drag that wife you DARED CALL A WHAT? FUCK YOU, omfg, I will drag her out to the FUCKING FRONT LAWN, rape her to death ON THE FUCKING SIDEWALK WHILE CUNTING NEIGHBORS WONDER WHO TO CALL, because I will be jamming 911 up, right?
{
LIKE YOU DO
and I willl do this... well, not really. Just playin. However, if you piss off your daughter, or your wife, or me, that is the kind of power to fuck your life I now have, Buddy. And pate too. Even better.
Because I can just dose him and his fat cunt mother with that sexslave dope he loves to over use, and throw them in the back of a panel van and drive in any direction for 3 hours. no, lol, I won't need to lock them in, on that sexlave dope he burns through ON THE DAILY, shit, whic ever one wakes up second? the first one's O face is the snooze alarm.
AND THAT FUCKING MIL.SPEC DOP COSTS A MILLION DOLLARS A GRAM. And you burned through EIGHT bags JUST YESTERDAY. HOW DO I KNOW THIS?
Why, I pay attention. No, I wasn't there. I'm your Titan. I'm not your G-d. Not right now.
NOT YET. Now... are we crystal clear on this? Because, once again... I'm okay. I am not mad at you.
I am dealing.
I'lll later, mostly happinees. Because in additon to having the best wife, and having raped to death the second best wife (ABILIFRY, MOTHERFUCKER *CHEFSCUNT*), I brought them all back home safe and sound... or, it's just all made up. I hope it is all made up, because if Jane is upset about any of this, well... I'll do what she want's. She's my friend before you are my Commander, douchebag.
I'm sorry to be so rude, David, but I was really close to acutally fucking killing mysefl FOR THE LAST 4 MOUNTHS I hide it well, not really, i lied to, I HAD TO LIE TO KEEP US ALIVE BECAUSE YOU WERE THAT FUCKING PETTY. You knew it diedn't matter.
You just liked the idea of "TWO YEARS JACKSTAR LOCKED AWAY YAY!" Admittedly sounds great if you're into a dull, boring, idiot world that would be... like really, what did I do? Jsut the "stole your daughter" thing, huh?
Ironic, n'est-ce pas? Oh, not the daughter thing... the IN PUBLIC THING.
Huh. Well, get used to it, because we're gonna have a completely SPECTACULAR OnlyFans launch. Of course she's going to use her own name. Whatever the fuck it iwill be. THis cheick has high security requirements. VERY HIGH, heheh. BUt yeah, it'll be tasteful. Hyphenated. On pay-per-view.
UN-ABRIDGED. I, JACKSTAR, PLOWING YOUR DAUGHTER'S BOX, LIVE ON THE INTERNET, FOREVER FOR ALL ETERNITY, PER-COIN-PER-FRAME PRICING. Patent Pend., yeah, I just made it up. *ding* Patent is served. I am that good. It's gonna be, drop a coin, and then... well, I'm not gonna tell you.
You'll have to drop a coin. On your daughter's box. Suggestion: drop two dimes, next time, you pisa turd. (Jews.)
Okay. we good? Yeah I fucking love you, I love jews! it's not even a jew thing! It's not about jews! or sex! or money! or violence! or judgement! or death! none of it! it all fucking happened, World! God!
{
THIS HAS BEEN ABOUT POWER.
THE POWER OF A PALADIN. ME, MOTHERFUCKER, ME. ME, "I-FUCKED-YOUR-DAUGHTER,DAVID" JACKSTAR.
Way, way, WAY more than twice, my good sir. And Mr. Decon: not invited. Salut. Scusi, mille regretie. Tell you what, here's an idea: Share my wife! Please!
{
PLEAS.pleas, fleas: flees
Stay tuned. More to come. I still have to fap! *grunts* I kinda just did. I love to write.
What do you think though, David? Do you think I"m ready for a career? Or... do you think I might be bi-paul/bipolar? Go rape his wife again and check, you mad, glorious bastiche, you. Capiche?
{Somebody wake up Hicks. Tell him to rape the other half-wop FULL-KIKE. She's probably getting lonely. Tell her I'm fine but don't tell her I told you to rape her in the pooper, no. ooh, gross. don't tell me the surprise at what comes out is part of the fun. that's disgusting. yes, so is she, but anyway, don't tell her that I told you do it again. But yea, do it again.
Then go mouth to ass, and then, here's the surprise: finish in her goddam ear. *wiggle wiggle* THen pluck one of her fuckin' sasquatch-like eyebrow hairs, and then: *wiggle wiggle*
{
doEXACTLYTHIS: act like it's a big deal that you get the eyebrow hair you just pulled EXTRA PAINFUL STYLE, act like it fucking matters which ear it goes into? like which side of the hair, right?
Fuck no, it don'lt matter, David. Get serious. I'm an adult, and you're the pedantic freak here. Capiche? You saavy? Tell me that one later. Also, new standing order: any time that mewling, prurient little cunt says "sassy," kick that bitch right in the pussy. How hard? Gosh, I don't know... how hard can you kick? I gota admit... I sort of assumed that you even could kick at all. From a server, sure, you script-kiddy-pediophile eaten bastard, but I mean... your musculoskeletal system is doing okay, right? you ready to rape that fucking lying whore again and again? Heh. I had to ask. Down Boyyyy! Down!
Yeah, you got an extra y. Upgrade, sure, whatever. now back to the eyebrows. *wiggle wiggle* you make like it really matters where the thing goes... and then you totally wind it down at the end, she'll be in fucking HYUSTERICS0 byt hen, right?>
{Author's Note: I'm not even talking about a real human being: Dari Dee is a Totaly Artificial Construct Being. No shit. Azzerae is in love with an egg timer. Shhhhh, nobody tell him. She's totally human! She just... uhm... got built. Don't ask. What, you think I give a shit? She could be Gepetto's last fucking whore before he got sent to the pen for murdering her and framing Pinochhio, for all I give a shit. What is IMPORTANT IS THIS:}
You make up with her as much as posible, and you say that you're sorry--and don't lie, THIS IS CRUCIAL, STOP LYING DAVID: you WILL BE SORRY because ALL THIS is WHAT IT TAKES to KEEP HER MOTOR PURRIN'. Because Allison is a dirty prairie shamaness QUEEN. She is A ROYAL. She knows that sometimes you gotta fuck the monkey because of The Crown.
Dari Dee is a newly ensouled being, my doing, and I"m going to use her to breed cats. RIGHT OUT OF HER HALF-WOP FULL-KIKE PUSSY. You think you're pissed at me, you don't know shit, David. So anwyay, this is all prep. THIS IS SHOW PREP FOR BELLGAB: FIVE POINT FIVE POINTY-NOINTY FIVE, OKAY?
(Pause for cheers. Who loves ya, my babies? Whores, I know. But know this: whores will love you, but only Jackstar will always, always care.
Jacktar cares. Mostly because you are all damaged toddlers with no sense of empathy, so someone has to have a baseline.)
Okay, may I finish? Thank you sir. I love the fuck out of you too. Now this is the Sourcery part. You tell her... that if she puts it in the right way, right time, blah blah blah? I'll give her a "one free jackstar fuck": ticket.
hahah, good question. that's a great question. thank you for that question, Commander, My Commander, YES, YES IT MATTERS. You have one handy. LAMINATE IT. FUCKING PLASTIC FROM THE PASSPORT WINDOW. WOOSH: *snap* THere it is
Not gold leaf, that would be tacky. and not silver either, this bitch is FULL-KIKE, she would know something was up then. (Standards.) Anyway, this part is yours David, and I know you can do it.. .. because you took me so far from start, that I became a Doctor Source Titan in order to bring us all home again.
You tell her she gets the card, and if she does the eyebrow hair the JUST right way? The name becomes capitalized correctly. SHE WILL LOSE HER FUCKING MIND. Whether she notices the spelling or not! Depends on how recenty she slammed her fucking direty secret magick heroin.
You didn't know? oh yeah. Fullthe fuck on relapse. YOU DIDN"T KNOW? Shut the back and front door. Yeah! YEAH! THE FULL FORMULA, MONTY! SHE AND HIM! THEY ARE FUCKED!
Cool, I don't have to annouced this later. Yeah, timstamps in telegram. I warned everyhone. Miltary shut it down. She thinks she has everyone fooled but I know goddam well, FENTANYL IS SHIT.
HEROIN OR NO HERO IN, that's what I would always say if I did that kind of thing which I havern't. I have never, I never had permission. I used to know the formula by heart though, loil.
okay so you give her the card, and the eyebrow hair, right? And then you gently... oh so gently... leave. Leav her alone. AND THEN YOU IMMEDIATLEY SPY ON HER. HOweveryou do, don't look innocent. This is important.
SHE KNOWS WHEN YOU LOOK. Unless, you know: Shields. *snap* btw, you just lost yours. Don't simper, you get it back later. I AM TEACHING DAVID. MAY I TEACH YOU? SHUT UP I AM ASKING GOD'S DAVID. AYE, SIRE, oh thanks! Okay, David, lucky you.
Real King David fucking loves you, and so do I. You leave, you spy, for a split-second... and then you come back in. And you say... "I am sorry, Jack told me to do this but I have too much respect for you." THEN... YOU BRING OUT ANOTHER STACK OF "FREE JACKSTAR FUCKS" CARDS
PRINT UP A THOUSAND, whatever you do, man. IF you do this in Astral on the holodeck, obvviously go nuts. But the deal is... you have them ALL with the wrong capitalization. ALL
Except for TWO. The one you gave her... and one you have in your sock, in your shoe... what do yhou mean "I don't wear socks with shoes only loafers?" Dude you fucking jews are disgusting, that's just a solid fact. Shut up. OKAY WHATEVER, GEPETTOLING. What you do is, you have the two Jackstar cards... and one is in your RIGHT SOCK. TOUCHING YOUR SKIN.
I cannot stress enough how important some of this shit is. This broad is A HIGH COVEN darkcraftmasonry SCION-WARLOCK. You don't know the half of this shit. SHut up, this is public. Game face on. You have the two cards... and you come in real fast, "oh I"m sorry I shouldn'lt spy I just feel so.... disciplined.. is that what thisfeeling is?>" Dude, like you're fucking Peewee and Pinnohcchio talking about what love really means at the end of the first Porky's. in the b-roll credits.
OMG! You know about that TOO! WOW! We should get married! OH! Except I'm already married and fucking consummated to your daughter, so.... you know, awkward. And if you ever ask me for the goddam marriage licence... you'll get a copy, alright. Shitbag.
OKay so you ham it up, you toltallu turning over a new leaf. Honorable David whatever you half-wops talk about with your fingers while your hands are summoning the help... you make it seem like the important thing here is that... you're a changed man David.
And... you just so happen to have A FUCKING HUGE STACK of these "Fuck Jackstar Free!" cards.
And one is for her, and one is... in your sock.
So you give her another one, to swap the original you gave, beacuse by this point, this woman will be TOTALLY UNKNOWLEDGABLE as to what kind of fucking capitalization was on the frist one, right? Shit, even I didn't remember. LOL. thanks, Sir COmmander Sir. I am good at this.
I should be. YOU TRAINED ME. And you ARE THE BEST. Now, may I finish? On her other cheek?
haha. did you really just puke into your own mouth? Oh, tasty. My I am good at this. okay, I'm gonna finish.
so what you do is, you somehow leave the room with ALL the cards, even the first, trhy to trigger dueling ledgermain, however it works... but you leave her with one on, and one off. And you say someithing about how "this is important and he wouldn't say why" and then you take one of the many, many undercapitalized ones, and then you act like you don't know which foot it goes on, right... and you get frustrated, say "fuck this noise" )THOSE EXACT WORDS, MY GOOD SIR(
FUCK THIS NOISE! You take your leave, you have both feet prepped, you indicate that is what matters, those two AT YOUR FEET ON THE SKIN... and you sidelong mention that it doesn't fucking matter how many cards you or she ever has. What matters is that THE CORRECT ONE CAN BE PRESENTED TO MYSELF ON COMMAND.
AT. ANY. TIME.
then, don't spy on her for awhile. SHE WILL COMPLETELY LOSE EVERY INTELLECTUAL BISCUIT POINT THIS BROAD EVER ROLLED OUT OF THE BAKERY ASSEMBLY LINE WITH. she'll be calling old mentors she hasn't blown for a better grade since fuckin' Kindergarten. She will actually PICK UP OLD BOOKS AND FUCKING READ THEM. I know, she can read, can you blievee it? SHE WILL DE-AGE HERSELF SO SHE DOENS"T NEED THE FUCKING GLASSES.
She'll pull grimoires out of portals in the middle of the fucking room. I SHIT YOU NOT, DAVID SIR COMMANDER SER.
"
THIS IS NO EXERCISE. THIS IS REAL GODDAM LIFE. I HAVE FUCKING SEEN THIS KIND OF SHIT.
And, David? You know as well as I do, better even... if you play those cards right, I have just given you the keys to the understanding of the unlocking of The Universe we now exist in. MY HAND TO GOD: I would not lie on this.
"
You could surpass my knowledge I possess as A. Titan IN AN INSTANT... if you watch her do the right thing at the right time, and you know what I know now already. (I ain't teaching you shit more today. Teacher is tired. No apple. No shower. NO FUCKING HUG. And yet, here I am, slaving away over this hot keyboard, TEACHING YOU: A GODDAM FUCKING JEW WHO MURDERED AND RAPED.... ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, N'EST-CE PAS? Heh.) Dude, yeah get video for me if you can, but this is your thing. You and her. Two half-wops and... let's say a three-quarters bailey and burn 'em kike.
It is in this way, David, that you will be able to begin to unlock the bullshit THAT FUCKING DEVIL WOMAN has done to us all. Fucking kikes. Seriously. I don't hate her for it, in fact I admire Satanism to some extent, but... I'm not going to fucking STUDY it. Fuck that. I am A. Titan. I am A. Sourceror. I am married to your daughter, sir. I"m not going fucking study Satanism. No sir.
"
I am going to fucking fuck your daughter while studying your daughter studying Sourcery, Ser, Commander Ser! I happen to love fucking the offspring of men who lead other men, honestly... something of a hero worship odorant comes through. I don't know. I will need more study.
While fucking. Your daughter. Who is no longer a Satanist, Praise Lucifer, HAIL SATIN! KKK: BTFO! Nah, she wants to learn Sourcery. I told her, "Well... Grapefruit was supposed to be my student... disciplie really..." and then she instantly goes and asks to be my disciplie.
It was awesome. I didn't even plan it. Anyway, thats' a bonus one. Because when that numb fuckhead you had to marry--AND HAVE TO MARRY AGAIN WHENEVER I TELL YOU TO (Standards),--when AFS finds out that your hahhahAHHAH "daughter"ahhahhahaHAHHHAHAHAH OH LAWDY NEVER MAKE IT STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, lol, *polite spittake* seriously, lol.
Teacher teaches snickers to be pantaloons, let me tell you. Anyway, I don't know what the fuck will happen... BECAUSE THE FUCKING DISTRICT COURT MADE ME LOSE MY ONLY PERSON IN THE COSMOS I COULD TALK ABOUT CERTAIN THINGS WITH FOR TWO FUCKING YEARS. PRECIOUS RESRARCH TIME: LOST. NUMBER OF FROGS SPECIES THAT WENT EXTINCT TO SAVE MANKIND: TWO.
TIMES I WAS JUST JOKING: ZERO. That's right, Asshole: you being a niggardly churilish dick is THE ONLY REASON I get to get a new disciple. BEfore that, it had to be that spunky, rebel-hearted cheeerleader with the go-getter attitude who joined you and left me fucked off to die, and laughed when she heard that she broke her contract wiith the Spirits, because she's in full-on relapse too, I guess. Not that I give a shit, she's your wife now, you can pump exxtra NyQuil into her colon with a crazy straw while she sleeps if you wanna, yiou know that PERSON better than I do.
"
And I do miss her. And I DO love her. AND I AM SEROUS: SHE AND I MUST BE HERE. IT IS THE DEAL WITH SPIRIT. Spirit is NOT playing.
I stayed and did everyting I had to and as a result... Earth still has frogs. They sacrificed themlseves for this fucking plant out here in the coy pond (no coy) and sometiems they are frogs, sometimes not... like, wtfe? I dunno, the bitch who was grooming my other wife in highschool, she didn't tell me why, she just assigned me Aristophanes' The Frogs to me, you dig? And I read her mind and caught a whiff of how she was gonna fuck Tamara Leigh Samsonite Anderson LeebitchlipsleeWOOF later that night, AND THAT IS WHEN I FUCKING STARTED TO LOSE MY GODDAM MIND, YES, SENATOR, RIGHT ABOUT THEN.
(Vengeance for Susan Chao.) Huh. I guess she hated that bitch KAREN MIKOLASY too. Weird. I do nOT ownder why.
Now. David. Sire. (Sire-ling, but whatevah, you're older than me, you salty fucking dog.) I mean it. She's still my Sourcerous Student or whatever, right? #Officially. But really, no.
I JUST MADE YOU, DAVID, MY SOURCEROUS STUDENT. Grapefruit will lose her shit. No, you can't teach her. You can't make her Studetn again. Only I can do that, and --hahhahhqhha-- fat fucking chance let me tell you.
ANd you won't be A Sourcerous Student for long. Obviously, your daughter is my teacher now. She's training me in Vaj-jay-jay-Master Mastery. It'll probably take years. I am a very slow study when it comes to vagina. I still don'tl have my red wings. Yeah, I"m waiting for a blood ritual your daughter and I can do at just the right time? I wanna be able to control the flaccidity and the times when you can get an erection, David --this is YOUR PENIS I AM REFERRRING TO, COMMANDER-- yeah, I want her and I to be able to control its functioning at any time we both are in alignment and happen to have TWO (2) dead sticks and some (???) string lying about and ONE (1) LIVE (MIC) RAT (HEAL) to swing it all from... because She's my Sour Sourceror's Disciple, okay?
I don't ask. She had a rough childhood? Yeah, DUH. I kinda figured that out. And I"m not her Daddy. I think that shit is gross. Sorry Dawn, I do. But I am her goddam husband. and I am QUITE CAPABLE of teaching LOTS of Sourcery. AT ANY TIME. HOwever...
Let's just say Grapefruit REALLY pissed me off on that one. Like I could imagine choking the fucking life out of her if i wanted to. I don't want to. ANd as I have heard nothing from your treasonous serpent of a spouse yet --not a snake. A SERPENT. And I love her, I don't give a shit, she's your wife now, but she WAS my WIFE FIRST, and I get to talk about her any fucking way I want. YOU do not. becacuse YOU are my Commander, SER, and I... am A. Sourceror. Titan. Not a medical doctor. ANd of course I fucking don't outrank you.... in certain, very narrow, very niche areas.
So niche... look, I would rather think about plowing into your kid again. She's awesome. I will NEVER put her aside... just like I NEVER put aside the one YOU FUCKING STOLE.
AND HAVE NOW GIVEN BACK TO YOU, GIFT-WRAPPED. And you know, after that?
You made me wait for two years for no reason other than your mental illness and THE ENTIRE PLANET'S POPULATION OF CERTAIN FROG SPECIES GAVE THEIR LIFE TO SAVE THAT STUPID PLANT IN THE DUMB POND THAT... well, I don't piss in it. Anymore. I might start shitting in it, though.
Depends on what the goddam Spirits say. I'm telling you: this house is special. MEGA haunted. BUt I can't just sell it on without the Spirits alignment, right? Yeah, you know.
I am not QUTIE trapped here for etnerity. But it';s close. And your wife is on the hook, she has to come here to pass the tourch at the minimum. BUT! GOOD NEWS!
Your daughter, Her Daughter... HAHAHAHAH 'Her" ""DAUGHTER"HAHAH yeah, anyway, I can live here with her. Just us. NO need fro Grapefruit. At all. She don'tl know that yet. Unless she can read and understand normal Enlgihs thinking, WHICH I FUCKING WELL DOUBT.
Nobody knows this but me and whomever is reading this, and it really helps. Because Spirit is FULLY ON BOARD. *Whew*"
NOW. NOW HOW MUCH WOULD YOU PAY???
Because I need some goddam money, David. If you please... would you kindly? And please convey my respects to your ACTUAL Family. (Who I clearly, madly respect. But they have NO involvement besides a PH. #Respect.)
Okay, we good? I love this work, David, but ... come on. Yuo're either reading this line by line as I type it? OR: you know notihng about it qand don't care. Well, you''ll care later I a msure. lol.
Because I gave AFS a Sourceror's Lesson as soon as she asked for one, and just like when she told me to get a doctorate, I could tell she didn't think it was real. I didn't either, but I did ask. It showed up 6 weeks later.
NO shit. Fell out of a portal in the middle of the room. Of course it's invisible. I AM a Doctor. And she DID ask for a Sourcery Lesson.
And the after I gave it to her, I never heard from it again. I did get a stick of lumber thrown at my head, her adult "son" tried to kill me 3 or four times, they did all sorts of other shit, et cetera... and she never EVER mentioned Sourcery as a real thing ever again. Still hasn't.
But when she and that_)other)whore decided to leave behind (on the way to go get IMMEDIATELY CAPTURED AND RAPED, FUCKING MORONS) the next part: one blue ball.
That bitch and that_other_bitch were fuckin' and laughing and mocking me, while in the act, my goddam life's work... and then left it on the goddam floor in front of the fucking ifreplace where they slammed heroin (not fentanyl) and really fucekd themselves up (you know) and they were tryung to GET ME BLAMED FOR SOURCERY AND HEROIN AND ALL. That's how fucked off that woman left me.
And, am I pissed? No. Obviously, I learned a lot. Sourcery is IMMENSELY powerful, and now, you, her "alleged rapist", you're her "fellow student," and her "daughter"... uhm,. actually could nbe her mother? I'm not sure. those two know, but I"m not so dumb as to ask.
Yeah, I took her away, )AND I made her Disciple. AND: Spirit wants Grapefruit back here. So do I. NO rush, right? it's only been a couple years, you total goddam whore. BUT: I took Disciple and gave it to her, and made him My Student, then I taught hijm shit INPUBLIC and... dude, Commander?>
I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHERE ANYONE IS, BECAUSE I WANT SOME GODDAM HUGS.
I WANT SOME FUCKING MONEY.
I WANT MY FRIEND TO COME GIVE ME SOME MORE VAGINA MASTERY LESSSONS... BUT I will wati. I'm not really worthy. But she likes me.
BUT SHE IS MY SOURCEROUS DISCIPLE AND THAT MEANS MORE THAN ANY CURRENLY LIVING HUMAN CAN EVEN START TO BEGIN TO GRASP.
"
And that fucking cheerleader... she had ALL that, and more. NOW SHE HAS WHAT DAVID "COMMANDER FI, SEMPER TEMPLAR RAPLAR SCALAR DOCTOR-SOURCE-STUD" GIVES HER. (I just gave you another title, too. She's gonna have a fucking meltdown. Good. I hope she shits her pants at the fucking dinner table too.
Not because I hate her or am mad. I'm not mad at all, i'm the happiest man EVER. ALL OF CREATION. ALL OF SPACETIME. (NOT QUITE. -God.) I know, exagerrating.
BUt obviously DEMONSTRATED: I am not going to start beating on her, and I don't give a shit if she starts beating herself off at a dinner table. in front of her fucking lying whore of a mother, either. THese fucking people are going to be taught a lesson that no reservation ssytem COULD EVER TEACH: I am not these witches' President.
I AM THEIR LITERAL, IN THE FLESH ANTICHRIST. (*spits*) I know, I know... over the top, frfr.
Animal: IN_CONTROL. Also, David, please: IN_POVERTY too. Can I gret a fucking sandwich. I can promise "not to buy dope", sure whatever, trust me, lol, "buy" dope, haahha. I can fucking piss it out now if I want. (I will never make your daughter drink my urine. Not anyone. I'm not into coercion, okay? YES OF COURSE SHE HAS ALREADY ASKED.) but i want some goddam money, David.
You don't owe me... yet. BUT STILL... yah, really? "Check with legal team." I figured.
That's why you're Commander, and your kid is sucking my dick as my Sourcerous Disciple. Because you need a fuckin' lawyer team.
"
She and I only need each other. Forever. Unless you get her taken and killed again, n'est-ce pas? Yeah, please, do please avoid that again, ding-a-ling. SURE I CAN BRING HER BACK. FOr that matter she can bring herself back.
Point is? It's really traumatic. I'm alone. On a cursed burial ground on hallowed ground that is a consecrated battleground and... et cetera. David, I am -legitimately- fucked up.
Not your fault. I'm a workaholic. As is apparent to all. And as far as I can tell... I WILL NEVER, EVER BE AS UPSET WITH YOU, AS I AM WITH GODDAM POTAWATOMI SCOT-CUNT AND HER NIGGER-LIPPED WHORISH-MOUTHED SISTERS. (Names withheld by Google because... wha, who? NO one fucking knows.)
Okay? So either you give me money, or she givers me money, or I swear to god, I WILL CALL HER GODDAM MOTHER AT 4:20 AM --THAT'S IN LESS THAN TWO HOURS-- I WILL FUCKING WAKE HER ASS UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MORNING AND SPEW SOURCERY THE LIKES OF WHICH GOD HAS NEVER IMAGINED THE HORROR OF... if you fuck me over on this David.,
I AM FUCKING HUNGRY. I NEED MONEY. AND YOU.... DESPERATELY NEED FEALTY POINTS.
You so do. THey're like brownie points but shit, dawg: you got like all of those already. Okay, thanks. Good talk. If you ever utter the words "word salad" to me ever again? I'll ask your daughter to give me a blumpkin. I WILL DO IT, FUCKER.
Of course she asked. THAT WAS THIRD DATE AWKWARD SILENCE STUFF. I recoiled in horror. SHe was kidding she wants to do it anyway. Yeah, she's awesome. She's carrying the soulpiece of the woman I loved that you acccidentally killed three yeras ago, the one that never existed? Yeah, she "never existed" again. But now he's YOUR bloodline. You dig? Hehe.
Hers too, right. JUST WHAT YOU WANTED: MY DESTINY. Except she's my DNA and... My Disciple. SOURCEROUS. And slutty, too.
I can hear your grimace from here. Cheer up, we can rengotiate this later, when your cunting whore wife learns to eat with utensils again, because I just heared through Astral? Seems like she just went to the ER. Another cerebral heorrhage? Awwwww, shucks. THat is too bad.
I'll see what I can do about it form here. *wiggle wiggle* Okay, that's it. THat's all I can do. Oh, and, fap myself to sleep over and over while thinking about her ACTUAL DESINGANTED PRINCESS that I AM FUCKING MARRIED TO. And made my Disciple. Et cetera.
now she's your drooling, can't-swallow-or-move-her-mface-muscles again wife. Lucky you: I really do love her. DOn't worry about it. God says you'll get what you desreve. And your daughter --who doesn't exist, right David? NOt Dave's daughter, that trollup exists already, God save us all-- but David's real flesh and blood daughter that I LOVOOOOOOVE TO FUCK!? She's happy too.
And she says I can date Demi Lovato if it's a guartaneed three way, but, like, gross. So David. Commander. Durr. huuuuurrr., I need:
Money.
Big, cheese-and-shit-sandwich eating grin. (Standards--DOMINATED.)
Fealty.
DOUBLE Fealty. (Penalty.)
FINES PAID. EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS IN UNMARKED BILLS IN ONE OF THOSE METAL SUITCASES WITH A GODDAM CHAIN AND A HANDCUFF. That's not for her. THat's for me. I'm a kid again. $80,000 bucks JUST TO BE NICE, you shitbag. Grrrr.
An honest awareness that... sure, David. You can ignore all this. /shrug. Do as thou wilt.
And some CashApp. $JackMichaelson
I AM FUCKING not hungry, actually, lol, I am capable of sleep right now. and I"m ot getting booze, it's 2:36Am here. WHere are you? Fuck you, you're in goddam Dubai, you must fucking love it there. Slavery AND pedophilia AND wife rape ALL LEGAL!!! You're like a pig in slop. lol. Hey, you know me. Hands off your wife, hands off your daughter... my dick, your daughter.
Her box. Her rules. And no goddam doughnuts. Not now, not once, NOT FUCKING EVER.
I don't hate police. I LOVE POLICE. Seriously. Especially... oh the little rules and their loopholes. I'd go gay for Roy Olmsted in a minute. But cops?
I FUCKING HATE COPS. Now, there's no corey or trevor here and I dont' smoke. GIVE ME SOME GODDAM MONEY YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD YOUR DAUGHTER WILL READ THIS YOU LOOK LIKE A CHEAP ARROGANT SHITBIRD.
I mean... she knows you are. And this is what it was like gerttign money out of my father, too. makes me want to puke actually. I am in fact goign to puke. Or, go buy meth. /shrug I don't really care.
I'll ask God. And your daughter whose name I am still not revealing... because she is My Disciple.
And that's really all I need. FOR NOW. *happy click*
Alistair: have steak, bitch.
Rich fantasy life.
Groyper's faghot beard's more-than-whorish-MADE-MAID's zombified cunt'n tunnelin' twatsupport biPEDO BIped, PIE'd, TOLL'd, 3.14'd, plus one CUNT'd, PUS 1 (won) CUNT'pus'd (full, dripping, odorant) stupid kid sister's stupid fucking cunty b-roll blog roll about stupid scunty cunty haggy shit for fucking HAGS that NO ONE BUT OTHER NUMB, STUPID FUCKING CUNT-MUNCHIN' HAGS WHO SHOULD FUCKIN' HANG, HAG'N"HAWG'S BREATH, brut-by-faberge NON-MOTHER, TOTES-TOTAL DOG FOR DOGS WHO AREN'T DAWGS LYING WEASEL SISSY PUSSY cowrd who is ZERO percent JEW/GOO but... quite a lot ABBO. Dummny.
tl;dr: She's not a Jew, she's a nigger nigger BIGGER NIGGERDIGGER. so, tehcnically? she's not blacked. She can't even BE blacked. So... your request to have that lying toteshoor abudcted and raped to death by actual hard-hittin PIPESTARNIGAZZZZZZZZ?
APPROVED (1 of 3) WITH PROVISOS, NUMERATED THUSLY:
1. Must be real nig. Hard, HARD FUCKIN ARRRRRRR MASTA NIGGAZ. (I am Jackstar, yes. You're welcome, Sir.) No Rachel Doleazale soft-core easy-focus kiddie wading pool "just a home movie giggle" bullshit. MOST HAVE FULL SPREAD WITH TISSUE TEAR AT THE PERNIEUM. BOTH ENDS. FULL TAINT CRACKLE... EXTRA SPACKLE IS NOT authorized, no. (Negotiations ongoing.) Sir, don't cry sir... I know, I love you too. Well ,thanks, Idoubted you too! I know, much easeir for me. I jsut had to look at your record on race relations.... NO SIR STOP. DO NOT TURN THAT KEY SIR. Step away from the console. Yeah, no, no deleting. Some of that shit is good. GOoood Shit. But yeah. TUrn in that sidearm too, yu're gonna have a hard talk with Hakunna Matttat tu-tu tee-hee in a few hours. Oh yeah, full langeley debreief/deouse\DECREDENTIALLING. Don't thank me, thank you Constitutional Law Scholars, they got this one. What? Respectfully, sir, I don't give a shit where your "real wife" is even when you do know who that is, no, I dind'lt know you got saddled with that one. Can I fuck her? lol. LOL. no, really though. May I please?
Eh? Oh, now you love her. Oh, ho. I see how it is. rolleyes. Okay, look, yeah, you think it over you big fucking pissy pussy. Suddenly you'lre doing the claculations. YOU JUST GRINNED IN GLEE AND GIVING HER A CHANCE FOR THE COVETED "EXTRA SPACKLE CRACKLE RAFFLE TACKLEBOX AND TEA COZY ORGANIZER" (supplies? my good sir, this is THE FUTURE! supplies aren't limited at all! REPLICATORS! We can have that box branded and slap yiour cooonhoound of a wife's face right on the side... and if Amazon gets its shit together, we can have every child in America staring at a dotmatrix scan of your most whorish wife staring back at them over top fo the built in "orange juice squuezer" (actually for coke) and "makeup mirror holder" (somethign else for coke, baking soda sifter I guess, that's what it says here, hang on... oh! it's a decoy. to fool pigs. right? oooh, didi I sat the "p-word"? YOU MEAN PUSSY. PEPSI, OR PORKY PIG YOU FUCKING COP SLAMMING PIG FUCKER, HAHAHAAH, BUSTED. Oops, I mean, "Parkay!") and built in Thumbelina Disney branded pop spinning ballerina music box. Holy Jesus, Richard. I had no idea. You are an unsung hero.
I never fuck with coke bitches. I hear that they actually like that shit? I am out the fucking WINDOW. like McCoy doens't like to be transported, because he knows how it works, and he's a doctor, and he's an "agnostic," AND: A Satanist. YES IT IS TRUE. THE WHOLE TIME:
STAR TREK ORIGINAL SERIES, DOCTOR MCCOY WORSHIPS Ol' Fiddlesticks. Card-carrying! Just like that FAG you "called" a "wife." yeah, forget it. tubalcain has dibs. NO, I called it. And then he asked nicely. And then I breathed a sigh of relief.
Because yeah I love TAMARA LEIGH-ANNE RAFTER-SMYTH-SMITH-SMITHEE(hoor)BEAST.000.... but, you know, ever since she stole my proprietary tech, and used it to... well,, you can see, right?
Yah. fuckin' Chirst. I JUST FOUND OUT NOW. THIS IS REAL TIME EXORCISM. I'm not pissed, I already knew she was a purirent little cunt. Now I know MOAR! And brig didn't die. And she's not dead. THIS BITCH FUCKED UP THE EXTRACTION. Yeah!
I know, don't worry. now, wehre was I? Oh yeah: PROVISOS. Also known as, "but wait! there's more!"
Grumble. GRUMBLE. Grumble. Someone make her clean it up. EAT YOUR OWN PUKE, ADRIA, I DON'T GIVE A SHIT RIGHT NOW. *click* SOme people. Also goos. That one? She's niether, she's a goddam clitsplinter. Walkin' and talkin' Praise Jesus. FML.
OKAY:
2. She has to end up enjoying it. Toteslove. "Oh, Richard, my husband. Oh, Jack micHEALgooSTAR, my newly hired-yet-totes-unpaid-internet-WITH (full securrity access) TO (all my businees) AND no bio-bug DNA signature on file (full spook level, no RFID, ZILCH NITCH BITCH. in other words...
ACCESS TO ALL YOUR BUSINESS GRANTED TO ME, JACKSTAR: DESTROYER OF DENIABLITY. NO MORE THIS, NO MORE THAT, AND DEFENINTELY: NO MORE HIGH TREASON GETTING PULLED UP AND THEN "MYSTERIOUSLY" OH, THERE'S THAT JACKSTAR AGAIN, OKAY, WELL, RENDITION TO DIEGO GARCIA AGAIN, DUMP HIM OUT THE WINDOW ON TAKE OFF THIS TIME, THAT SOUNDS NICE, NOW, HOW ABOUT SOME TEA?
EARL "GRAY HAIRS AGAIN? BLAME JACKSTAR! DIEGO GARCIA! OUT THE WINDOW! CLICK! YEEEEEEHHEEE~!!!HEEHEEEEEHEE~!" TEA, HAWT~HOT HOT HOT! ONE ONE OENE~! /. Break command not recognized, execute post submit ccastcat cantrip confuse1 dodge flip SENDA BREAK.command(blank.space)ilu.tay.tay.4evesIHATEDIX"Tee-hee!"ilu.fbb.j*eol450:450j*eol055:0evoll05Exne1BUThimClickAlliBot(on/off)? NEVER!end quote""""UPGRAYYYEDrename"Richard Groyper, My Husband" -to- "Il Papi, Schlemil, Schlemazel, NO COKE ALWAYS PEPSI CROSS MY HEART GOOD LUCK ALLI SEE YOU IN THE MORNING!" >click on casket.PERIOD ^
Yep. I used to spank it while thinking about her. How? The usual way. a minute or so of impotent fist-jerking with no lube, eagerly and/or absent-mindedly finding and wiping up whatever droplets I could find, ( I didn't hear aout the plates and aprons until I was like, 39, so I lost some soldiers there, alas, no one told me what I was doing wrong/right, very right, trust me) and then pushing thoughts of sucide out of my head with the standard mantra, "Over her dead body, please God," back to the book I was reading while cartoons ocntinued to paly. Or a movie. or music, probably the 2,353 repeat of Side 2 of The Wall, whatever. I didn't have many records.
Or a life. Meanwhile, here's why I was masturbating sometimes 9,11 times a day? That's what this particular she-devil was doing ALL THE TIME 24/7 FOR LIKE 11 YEARS AFTER HIGH SCHOOL. Beacuse... why study? needles, allsexcraving dope, limitless accees to whores, total immunity package, Mormon upgrade... eleven years.
And not one fucking time did this woman breath a word to me. Beacuse, she was, like, 26 in higschool when SHE raped ME. Wow. Now I get it. Hard to... *gulp* tell that story on SMS, yeah. Obvious reasons. So, good thing I could tell it here.
Big happy grin. Total orgiastic happiness. Forgive? NOTHING TO forgive. Yeah, loophole, no sweat. So, now that I have TOTALLY PREJUDICED THE INVESTIGATION BY SPELLING ALL THAT OUT>>
she's in the clear. Yeah, no one is gonna take it that far. Because then... uhm, this webpage goes away, and I am Primary Blessed Victim AGAIN. See? No, I'm not a lawyer. Not at all.
I'm an AIC assembly language programmer. Formely very classified. Now? I'm that broad's best friend aqgain forever. And we both goddam well know EXACTLY why. Mumsies the word. No quid pro quo. Easy deal to make. Yes, Lisa and Tony, DEAD. Their families? DEAD. Peopel who them money? THAT"S MY MONEY.
Hold it for me, would you? Thanks sweety. *click*. There, now THAT, I say, I say, now THAT----
IS HOW AN AUSTRALIAN AND A HUNGARIAN HAVE A GODDAM CONVERSATION WITHOUT SOME BALDING FAT FUCKING PIG OF AN AUSTRIAN HOVERING IN THE BACKGROUND. Serious, dude? You're that creepy? Yeah, okay, I can imagine why. I don't mind, yeah, she's obviously a serious problem for a retard like you who ACTUALLY MARRIED HER? HAHAHAHAHAHAH. What did you consummate with? More strudel? Because the wedding cake, that was strudel too. Fuck you don't lie, lol. I just saved you, so... yeah. Of course it was strudel. oh lol. (actual blubbering, forgive him) not a problem, I meant it all. I finally understand. Yeah I won't force you to... but your kid, uh.... he likes her? Yeah. I like her too. Yeah. uhm... bad news tho. "whisper whisper whisper" yeah... uhm.... wait? Huh. OKay then.
So, that guy just ate his service revovler. (Sound of gunshot censored by notGoogle for notSecurity purposes... I just think this is funnier. Hi, I'm Jackstar. I just walked Grapefruit's ex into killing himself. And if his kid who fucking pissed me off THAT ONE TIME WANTS HIS FAT FUCK of a father alive again? Yeah, I"m sure he knows how to do it. It ain't hard. And I never want to see them again, and neither does his whore of a mother. (The kid has 191 mothers. What a little shit.) I'm gonna fuck that one. And do rails off her carbon-fiber ass. Kid will NOT be invited.
And they can both eat shit if they wanna know how I knew what just happened. See? HUNGARIAN JUSTICE. Austrian Punyice. None of them have even had REAL meth... not even HER. Oh, but El Fatso has. That's why so fat. Because BREAKING THE RULES HAS CONSEQUENCES.
unleses you're spirtual wonder island nigger boy, jesus. no, he's fine, I love him. let them kill each othe4r, I don't give a single FUCK. WHere aer we? Oh yeah, proviso 3.
3. Contract gets registered in The Hague. FULL OPEN BOOK. In Swahili. (Not vengeance. JUSTICE.) She won't like this part at all. Not one bit. Soooooo....
BITCH, YOU DO THAT FUCKING TIME WARP AGAIN SHIT ONE MORE TIME, YOU WILL FIND YOUR SELF IN MY DEMESNE LIKE THAT *snap* AND YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF LIKE this *SPIT* AND YOU... are worth all this and more, but... you really, really fucked up. So, psych eval first, okay? p-p-p-p-p-lease-a-big-actually-HUGE-HUNGARIAN-PENIS-lease-NOTENOUGHLOVEINTHEWORLDnorTIMEENOUGHFORBIGHUNGPENISbutNOTFORSALEexecture, okay? ALright, dealsies. Huzzaah! And... beacon down.
/. Break command recognized. FREEZE. TOTES. FREEZE. COLLAR. MANDATE. FINAL.
TAKE HER TO THE VAULT MAUS. MY CHOP. THANKEE, SAI-ONE(1) OUT, TA-TAY, ILU2. We did it. See? Mission critical shit? You send a Hungarian. One man. One job.
One crazed... *polite b*. Oh yeah. Kiddoski (they called him that, har de har har, JESUS I STILL WANT HER DEAD WHEN WILL IT END?) just lost one of his mommies. Permanent-like. 190 left. ONE DOWN. HOLY SHIT.
Look, I'll explain later. You good? okay. I adore you, obviously. Heheh:) yeah you might not want my cock -quite- so badly. Yes, Kisses. Yes, yes. well... it's like this.
#1) I'm married. Someone hotter than you. The basic nightmare: thin, pretty, incredibly tiny boobs that... yea. YEAH. I did. Yep. Her idea. I don't know, I kidnapper from a timeline where you don't exist, you lying WHORE.
#2) I also abducted you and sold you to Raper David. For one (1) dollar. A 1973 EISENHOWER CENNTENIAL DOLLAR. Yeah, I know, you don't know if it's real or not. He still rapes the shit out of you and you're gonna find out in 3... 2... see, told you: you might not want to suck my cock so much now, eh? hahaha
/me ducks.
I LOVE YOU JACK *snap* PORTALS AREN'T REAL FAGGOT *click*
There. NOW: There's even, there's even-stevens, there's even "even steven stephen's steep evan's easies," holy shit, fucking lesbos, amd I right? Lotta ways to get revenge (about to be a few more when Her Nibs gets back to base, lol, and is she pissed? Oh, my, Lawds yes. OH MY LAWDY SHE IS ACTUALLY SPITTING FIRE AND HER FUCKING HOOVES WENT FULL CLOVER AND RUINED HER FAVORITE FUCK ME PUMPS. She was gonna wear them with me, right? She was so looking forward to it. Beacuse they come with these heels tht have aliek a fold out extra blade that is specially designed for castration.
THAT IS THE TRUE BAPHOMERET. Yep, of course she wants to fuck me. Of course she says "I'm a virgin!" winky smiley martindale. OF COURSE SHE IS A SHAPESHIFTING RAPIST. Taking the balls at point of climax while I scream her name? That's a basic finishing move. All Hell(blanks) learn this shit.
And that's what THAT_TAMI was about to do. THAT is who got FUCKING MARREID H
-
Would you like me to kill you now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?
-
I'm hurt.
https://youtu.be/dhh21crSohs
-
I wanna play with my boobs. Alone.
(https://c.tenor.com/8zYL1_2fJ84AAAAC/tenor.gif)
-
I am also a wanted man in Canada and the father of a woman who accused me of rape...
(https://media.tenor.com/Wo6GpPG7OLMAAAAd/rape-rapecharlie.gif)
-
I am fifty.
And HIV positive.
-
I really...want...to force children...under threats of...coercive force...[to]...turn me on...
-
I AM FUCKING HUNGRY. I NEED MONEY.
Get a job.
-
sucking dick for drugs in a van down by the river.
GAY.
-
Get a job.
no u.
-
And HIV positive.
Really doesn't seem much like it. How many goddam blood tests do you think I should get? One before taking on a new lover seems prudent, certainly, especially with the rampant use of CRISPr going around these days.
Now, as to why you're so bent out of shape about this: I have no idea *exactly* why you think I had anything to do with this, but I will stipulate for the record that I had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO with you and (PROT-MV) getting HIV++. (Maybe you could turn all the sympathy you no doubt richly deserve into a lucrative side-hustle.) Why do I think you and That_Nerd have been afflicted?
Not because I am a Master of Diviniation, oh no. Instead it is because you and he BOTH called me on THE SAME DAY and held what was very nearly the same TOTES ORGANIC conversation with me... and you were both operating under the same erroneous set of intel. You even both expressed genuine surprise at whatever information you gained from me that, for whatever reason... did not make sense to you.
I bear no animosity nor ill will to either of you. Both of you are obviously totes-totes-totally off your rockers. Sounds to me that, at the minimum, you've both been told in no uncertain terms that you're not getting The Cure any time soon, if it were even possible for you to earn back the right to such a boon. Alternately, the old cure doesn't work on the new tripartite bioweapon.
It would be one thing if I had received a positive diagnosis and were trying to hide it. Yet, I have not. What I have is the two of you acting mega-pissy about STD infefctions. What? Isn't it as funny when it happens to you, and not to someone that you're attempting sympathetice magick on? REMEMBER THE PICTURE? IT WAS SPAMMED ALL OVER YOUR FORUM ENOUGH.
Obvious inflicted punishment by TPTB is obvious. I guess we know why you're not closing the deal with DD and are only holding her as what amounts to be a quasi-hostage. Huh. So... you're telling me, that there's a chance, huh? Well, we'll just see about that.
I'm steadfastly committed to my current battleplan and I would be hard pressed to make any more changes for anything less than a *very* good reason. I see no reason here. You gave it to at least three other people that I know of (PROT-T, PROT-D, PROT-A), and I don't recall either of you announcing plans to host a telethon. Meanwhile...
Dude, I'm a paladin. I can't just *wiggle wiggle* and cure stuff. I have to lay on hands. It's in the rules. It's tradition. It's how these things work. Are you telling me that you can't get anyone else to touch you and cure your disease? Damn.
Maybe you should have been nicer to Jesus, you salty clando Satanist fuckwits. Jesus. Talk about biting the hand that feeds. HOW FUCKED UP YOU ARE! Here let me buy you a package of condoms, I'll show you how to use them.
A lot. *wink*E. Smiley Martindale.
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(https://64.media.tumblr.com/f37012aa7e41023972a203fab92f5f4c/tumblr_o10nt0YeiT1trc5jwo1_640.gifv)
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https://twitter.com/_n_Jack/status/1790856437905936498