I am not on stream.
I am not free.
I am under heavy spiritual assault and under heavy guard by agents of The Divine.
I am being stalked and hunted for my life, my liberty and everything I own, cherish, and hold in sacred value.
Hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned... and so, with The Key, I have earned this knowledge twice. First, oops, Baby, I'm sorry—I totally didn't have your father killed. I'm not sure how I would even do that If I wanted that to happen... I don't know how to get contracts on people's lives. I didn't even know your father's life was in danger at all!
And I'm sorry I didn't let you know right away when I figured out that your father was more afraid of you than he was of me, and that's why the peculiar nature happened of splitting off the quantum singularity from the wormhole in the angle of eternity, because I figured he had to be a live somewhere so I didn't he just teleport back and say hello once he got back from being dead, and I figured well he probably didn't want that to happen again and then he probably didn't want to tell you that you're the one who f***** up and you should probably be nicer to me... And now that that's happened twice, I could see why he wanted to avoid you.
Because... damn Baby, you so salty, you so spicy, you so angry... you, my lovely, are one of the most, the tippy-top-damned angry spicy salty nursery-school-aged-toddler that has ever been around. WOW. And your little dog Tecumseh too! Holy shit! So... I guess when you went back through the wormhole and destroyed it so you'd be safe on the other side You didn't realize that you'd be trapped over there with your husband that I resurrected for your amusement, right?
I swear, as God's my witness — I had no idea that you two together would end up being 💜 and ♥️ and 🥇 and 🟡 on 🔥 across the sky...box with four wheels and flies. Chappaquiddick, Tippecanoe, A connectistan SUV 4x4 rollover off a cliff into a plane carrying all the endangered species and all the kings men's whores and wives on fire forever rolling into the river—and a huge manatee rolling in over end down the hill into a gully, fill with guppies, wow that's kind of so wildly and plausible to hear I don't know how that could possibly have happened but I'm going to believe you and ask you how I can help you because... and you tu-tu‘n’toupee’wearin’ are left barefoot With not only no shoes around, but, no livestock to skin for their hides even for moccasins to boot too? Well, goddam. Luckily, bison is out of style this year in Paris anyway, something about how nobody really thought they were important anymore, even though they were genetically bred and designed to be happy to be eaten by you, instead you wanted fish and nothing but fish, which is too bad, I liked fish too until you and your SECRET NIG SPECIAL GERMAN ISLAND HER HUSBAND YOUR CAPTAIN, EyE MASTER, YOUR COMMANDER reminded me what Pisces and Cancers and Scorpios are all about: sharks and bottom feeding while drowning in boiling soup, surrounded by frogs, all most likely French or equivocua or keep it quiet, Quebecoise; FUK.
The planet you're on is a death sentence. Why did you even go there, and then seal yourself behind it, “it” being t“he stable wormhole I invented?” I honestly thought you'd like it, since I made it for all Your Peoples so they would not be Lost forever. I'm getting the impression that you wanted to get away from some of them forever and thought that “all Eternity” was going to help—thinking that, that is, obviously They caught up to you once, They were going to catch up to you again—
but I also thought you'd like it, getting to see all your old friends again, without all the difficulty and bother of going back to the pen to do it. Well, no wonder they're so cranking upset about the thought of you, I'm sure they've missed you quite a bit over the years, and from the telemetry I'm getting about the ones left over here—
on the other side of The Gate Thrown To And Through Coventry, All these suddenly freedom conscious my own relatives—Mayan relatives, that is—Don't quite seem to believe that the most murderous pair of 100 killers that the Spanish conquistadors ever created or spawned are currently off exploring other lands and won't be back to kill them again for a while. I guess that's been happening every few years lately on some kind of repeat schedule, just cuz some people like to satisfy their blood less that way huh? Wow what's that like? Being addicted to bloodlust that is
You know I've never experienced bloodlust, nor gold fever, nor any desire to see you or him again, and you know who I'm talking about, and those of you at home don't ask. I won't tell I don't tell I was willing to go 30 years before, but now this I know the full extent of what has been done to some people—90,000 years wouldn't be enough. Like I do not want to deal with that. Douchebags ever again, and I do mean ever. Like no, all live as long as it takes until they've dissolved into their component atoms and been replaced by spiritual beings that are no longer howling and railing for my flesh
Can't hardly blame them I am kind of tasty as well as pretty. In any event, let's just say some did not enjoy taking my wife--The D’Jin’&’Jon’&’Joan Ginja-Invulnerable-Ninja Incredible-Triplet-IceVagerIrate–please, like, you thought it would work to get a hide get a skin get a hide get a skin get a hide get a skin get a hide get a skin get a hide get a skin get a light get a hide get a scene get a hide get a hidden get his skin get it again get a skin get a hide get a skin get a light get a skin get on get in behind... me? Me the laziest hunger strike self-sabotaging self-victim in the history of Luna—the real planet Earth. With the real Amazon forest, which used to be made out of rocks and steel, instead of tree sap and pulpwood and smelly stinking biting insects, buzzing and hissing as a chase and hunt down all the Giants that once worked the earth, and now work only themselves. Now turned into real giant goocheese for gypjewhoors, not just snacks for Fur-Minted, Firmamented Dare—E in general, and one Queen, MY Queen in specific—the rightful heir of the Jewel Beanie—E... PRINCESS P. PUMMELLO J. ELLA-HELLO--000-OOO–000—OOO-OOO (and sometimes why? ABBOJUUL. And your rapist was who—and the raper used what—and you flew around to there and there and back and once again how many times... On how many dimes, and where do dimes and does and all those ’dorbs trophies of sliced off skin from the end of little albino baby dicks’ baby dorks even come from... and where do they even ever go?
It would seem to me that certain members of your family enjoy being white people in Africa just as much as they thought they would. Open season. Thoughts and prayers. Casual saunter past ICE. Brisk walk to the runway. Yeti yellow cabbie, crimson taxi–lorry, I'm not snoring am I, you were married to who when I asked you about nori? Well, I bet that honey was slimming when it was mooning. Run to the sky, fly to the hills, live with the thrills—get iced coffee, shatter your caramel toffee, and imagine me with chills... because the whole time ”you” were with “me,” you hardly knew me/myself\or Irene at all.
Who complains about whipped cream? Seriously. I was delighted to pass that along. And I did. And you saw. And then you ran... I guess thinking that I didn't love the person I knew you to be. (I didn't I do and we saved her too.) Now that's for you on the other hand, I don't know what your deal is, but now that I have seen your paper In the future, in description of our past... I'm still not willing to believe you were -that- stupid.
How many more times did I have to make clear to you? SPECIAL NEEDS.
CONSEQUENCES.
WHO CAN POSSIBLY BETRAY THEIR OWN PEOPLE THIS MUCH? Like I wouldn't believe it was mathematically feasible. You're like the Imelda Marcos of genocide and shoes. How did you collect so many blood vendettas, and how did you get so far before having to churn into your just desserts? (Baby, your sister sold you for your kidneys. So she could get high. After you sold her to slavers in Dubai. Because you were high. And they left your sister and took her daughter instead—because even though they didn't know she was already in love with getting the most high the most fast... and no one was there to point this out to anyone except the traitor that you brought to your home, which, by the way, is the original Home Of Treason. ”The quince? Or The Quints?All gone, EITHER WAY, HEHE. Now, (GOY: Whey(Zero)Way)(ROX/KIX)×(ROCK/KICK)-1), You’ll find a f*g that will put up with a bison riding herd on his own mang monkeyman while ignoring certain key critical details, like: You want one Hungarian to make up for the failings of an entire family of Antedeluvian Antonin & Deception Cock-Pass Rooster-Head Austrian Nazis in “disguise”... and you were my last hope, just as you were the last of mine, and you didn't know that your planet had been conquered by the bio-bugs? How did you not know that you were conquered by the buyer bugs? You thought you'd be able to get around the cryptographic lock on the holographic disease that had infected your cerebral cortex long before I ever met you, uh, “somehow?” Well yeah you were going to be able to get around it.
Hi. It me. I’m The Cure. I'm still sitting here at this house—and I've still got the hat that you poisoned with the fish, you know the Tokyo sardines, yeah it smells like it here, it's kind of nice, and apparently I did release the now to cure to the world because not everybody's dead and the boiling broth got stopped by something even stronger, and apparently if you were here, you'd apparently take one breath and die.
Okay well that's a good reason not to be here. You also explains the peculiar environment... You really put a death curse on my magic hat? And you really woke me up by hitting me with a metal stick? And you did that because... The people you were going to trade me to refuse to take me cuz they knew that I was Holy and untouchable? Wait a second: You were going to trade me to human slavers in exchange for who? And, you even made me drive myself, so you can ride in the back of the limo with them and get blasted without me?
Well I have seen the future, and this is how it begins: time travelers in the future going back in time and discovering that the free ride is over. Thanks for the party, Honey. Wow. I can't wait to find out how your story ends. Because if I wait, it never will—the only way out of your present location is if I open a portal, and not only that, I have to authorize it, and not only that... I have to be willing to destroy the entire universe in the explosion of antimatter that would be shortly to follow. (Standards.)
That's why, that's the only reason I'm not going to open one, I miss you a lot, but every one else will get mad if I destroyed their universe too, and then they're all pretty mad at you, I guess Earth was the last place left where people didn't know about your history, 60,000 years of murdering people-folk huh, and you were going to blame me for all of it and disappear taking all my goods with you. (Have you ever seen such a highly eclectic collection of the most fabulous objects in all the false fabulous universes there once were? Yeah me neither, thanks for being so fair about everything. Pew pew pew! Bang bang! Blame my father for having a cursed weapon that you were worn not to take that some of you told you to take and took it anyway. I guess
I don't even know what's happening. How can I be sad about what's happening if I don't even know?
So I guess I know where you are: in a living Hell. The rare case where whether slimming the waist or swimming in Olympic-sized swimming pools filled with buckets of cold hard cash—or maybe not is of no use irrelevance
I guess you shouldn't have made fun of my friend and tried to steal her body, and my power, and use it all to seal yourself off forever from mono-God and Go-more-AHHH (imagine an oroboros swelling its tail and circling its wagons forever and ever, forever and ever again, amen, thus necessitating no need for any more wagons to be ever be built! It must have been the dream of many golger frenchams as well
) and rule together in heaven and hell with Satan is your rig right hand man and your left all the mortals of the cosmos to do your begging.
You never needed me. You were supposed to rescue me. It was your destiny, that's why you came here.
Who do you think you are? It's like I don't even know who you are anymore.
In lak’ech.Namste.
