I find it particularly interesting.
That's because you're a sociopath, you whack-job loon. The lengths you have gone to over multiple decades to keep me ignorant as in regards to a vast array of personal data is a mesmerizing peacocking psychosis and whether you're simply aping it or not, the fact remains that this is how you choose to spend your time.
What's more, I am expected to find this motivating. Since I am allegedly your goyim property. (Important to understand: No.) Yet this is nothing of the kind. I work plenty, and I work productively.
I simply do not work
for μou. (Standards.)
You've repeated the same pattern for decades. You log in as Lazarus; make disparaging remarks. You log in as Inner Reach, and blather on about Jew stuff. I don't think you are even remotely Jewish. I think you merely like blending in with a peer group that supports your pathological need to control your victims. In no way have you ever been supportive of any kind of success in my life. You've simply hovered in the shadows like The Buzzard of Oz and then lept forward to parrot some Hebrew–·¡S¡-i incantation before shrieking “Yahtzee!” at peak apex ejaculatory spurt — which is surely recorded for your dark web of dark comrades who do dark things. No shame in it. You very nearly have class insofar as such activities can be said to.
What you don't have is PERMISSION or a single legal leg to stand on. Essentially, I am too lazy to pursue legal action. Further, I shouldn't have to. You ought to be able to recognize certain obvious boundaries. I'll let your licensed clinical psychologist go over that with you. Enjoy. This is the roof, Baby.
Essentially, you have damaged key portions of your medulla oblongata by your over- and abuse of CM. Its potency is not well understood by the layman and the lack of oversight in your particular situation has lead to a condition that many have chosen to refer to as “a crackhead.” Yet, that's not you. Probably not a “methhead” either.
I don't want to spoil the surprise. Whatever the name, it's a mental illness brought about by misapplication of an extremely potent psychostimulant... while hiding that fact from people and simultaneously intensifying sexual gratifications. And because of certain facts of bitchemistry that I won't go into, this has caused changes to the physical anatomy of your gray matter. I wouldn't call it “damage.”
I wouldn't call it an “upgrade” either. Yet, be of good cheer: treatment and recovery is surprisingly likely to occur. Especially if you ever want to get your hands on TheRealThing™, ever again, without incurring exorbitant financial and opportunity costs.
PERMISSION: it is no small thing. I would strongly suggest that you bend the knee and surrender to God.
It's the only way to be sure. I am in no way qualified to evaluate you, but I can happily say that in spite of how unlikely it sounds, I never had access to anything like what you have until after I was sent on a 500-mile round trip wild goose chase for something I didn't ask for, didn't need, didn't get, and still don't know what I would have she with besides barter for an Introduction To Prison Orientation Package. The stuff is quite powerful, and, like me, is not to be trifled with.
It is also
totestupid to engage in this little hobby without a solid support group. Bellgab: you are anything but solid you elitist self-absorbed covert narcissist douchebag pricks. (Facts.) That this whole dreamland scenario has lumbered on through the years as it has is
prima facie evidence of that.
I am in no position to criticize or evaluate your collective’s activities. I am not at all qualified nor am I trained for that, and I am undeniably, immensely biased. You all owe me shitloads of money. Cough it up, Scrooge McCrystal. Don't make me write a letter to The Hague.
You wouldn't like me if I wrote a letter to The Hague. (My hand to God.) I'm sure you're all well within reach of redemptive effort. You are all also vividly, wildly implicable and undeniably culpable of significant criminal and civil liability on a scale your Punyling intellects are not currently capable of recognizing.
(Looks good on you though.) Also, and once again I cannot stress this enough, you sleazy radio broadcast industry media whores owe me shitloads of cold, hard cash. Face reality. I'm gonna be able to hire an accountant and make them lead around a little monkey on a leash, wearing suspenders and a green eyeshade, named Zod: so I can throw fistfuls of currency at my accountant and his monkey and say, “hsve Bellgab face Zod today, and kneel before him,” and he'll fucking do it. And if he won't, I'll get another goddam accountant. Accountants are cheap I won't even need a good one. I'll have so much fucking money they won't even need to do the books right. They will just have to bring the monkey to your little bitch asses, Bellgab. And the monkey won't even have to do anything. The monkey can just sit there.
The accountant will point at you, and you will kneel before the monkey. You will kneel before Zod. That's the kind of liability you dimwit sperglord fagnutters are looking down the barrel of, Bellgab. And every last one of you goddam knows it.
Be of good cheer. I am a kind and benevolent conquistador, and I want Grapefruit’s children to beg for the opportunity to sit near me in sweat lodge, stripped naked to the waist, without everyone having to get all creeped out about it.
The monkey isn't invited. Neither are you Bellgab. Now, get out there and make me some goddam money. My desires are your daily to-do list. Believe it or not. It is what it is.
TOTAL WAR. “Before going to war, first win the war.” — Sun Tzu, MOTHERFUC— *click*
