The Liquid World of Richard Groyper

[Worthauger]

At this point, I don't even want to have a dick anymore. But you're not going to pry it out of my cold, dead hands, that's for sure--this fucker's still bleeding.

I know lots of information about lots of cases and no one is bother asking them of me, which seems strange don't you think? it almost assumes as though that you're all in on it you're all accomplices to hide evidence, well I don't care if it comes out or not I don't know why you're bothering fucking worry about me I wouldn't be talking about anything if I hadn't been fucked off and alone, I think they're just not yet aware that they've lost.


there were at least four grape fruits that I loved, I don't need to have all of them, one would be fine. [...] well have a good time, it's actually hilarious.

no one in this country will ever respect law enforcement the same way again. you're welcome, get to work.

I'm a taxpayer.

And I will naked Indian mud wrestle to the death--not to the pain, fuck that, shit's for order-takers--anyone who disagrees.




ZUGZWANG (bitch!) *polite_PunyWolf_Woof*, and I love the dog too. I AM GOING NO WHERE. GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE, MY VEHICLE, AND MY GODDAM LIFE, AND THEN AND ONLY THEN: I'll answer PERHAPS one of your stupid, ignoramous questions. Write them down (bark!) if you want to. Or even can (woof!), since you're obviously an ignorant, illiterate, and wholly unqualified (YET NOT BY OR FOR REASONS OF HER RACE NIG) to be even able to access this message.

(I HOWL!) I know, B, but here's the problem: her fucking idiot kid is on the hook for, at the mininimum: CAPITAL MURDER, FELONY CRIMINAL ASSAULT, WIRETAPPING, WIRE FRAUD, TAX FRAUD, EXTORTION, RAPE, EXTORTIVE RAPE, COERCIVE RAPE... let's see here... basically a lot more rape, AND, GET THIS:


IT IS FUCKING RICO. Smooth move, Kid. You're a fuckin' star too, Moron. (I just can't even.) I got you this time, Bae: BOW-WOW.

[Jackstar]

At this point, I don't even want to have a dick anymore. But you're not going to pry it out of my cold, dead hands, that's for sure--this fucker's still bleeding.

And I will naked Indian mud wrestle to the death--not to the pain, fuck that, shit's for order-takers--anyone who disagrees.




ZUGZWANG (bitch!) *polite_PunyWolf_Woof*, and I love the dog too. I AM GOING NO WHERE. GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE, MY VEHICLE, AND MY GODDAM LIFE, AND THEN AND ONLY THEN: I'll answer PERHAPS one of your stupid, ignoramous questions. Write them down (bark!) if you want to. Or even can (woof!), since you're obviously an ignorant, illiterate, and wholly unqualified (YET NOT BY OR FOR REASONS OF HER RACE NIG) to be even able to access this message.

(I HOWL!) I know, B, but here's the problem: her fucking idiot kid is on the hook for, at the mininimum: CAPITAL MURDER, FELONY CRIMINAL ASSAULT, WIRETAPPING, WIRE FRAUD, TAX FRAUD, EXTORTION, RAPE, EXTORTIVE RAPE, COERCIVE RAPE... let's see here... basically a lot more rape, AND, GET THIS:


IT IS FUCKING RICO. Smooth move, Kid. You're a fuckin' star too, Moron. (I just can't even.) I got you this time, Bae: BOW-WOW.

I understand. I am a bit intense, a passionate fella. I get too deep for some, however there are a handful of folks whose itches I'm able to scratch. I'm an acquired taste...proficient in a particular brand of inside baseball and little else.

based on what I know at this point, Bb lleG?b: you're very happy that I can't be reasoned with or argued with or bought, and if you try rubbing peanut butter on my dick I guarantee you you're not going to get the results you're looking for.

going to cross this post to whatever blah blah blah protocol blah look I'm tired of this you know the rest you have a normal life.

and you don't know the reason why but its name is Reggie Hammond

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/18uhP1ItqVR0
https://voca.ro/18uhP1ItqVR0
https://voca.ro/18uhP1ItqVR0

and you don't know the reason why but its name is Reggie Hammond

I'm not happy about not having access to YouTube. That being said, the gusto must be gone for.

And, once again: Richard, you've nothing to feel bad about--I mean, Time Corps is not even real, right? Just a made-up story with neither truth nor validity, right?

*sound of ratcheting Glock* yeah, Boy-o, yeah! That's right! JUST A STORY, BRUH!!!


You have my vote for next "session," although, if I am Ref again, I expect any of my votes for a preference would be neutralized, as, once again, there is really only One (1) Rule when it comes to The Game:

KEEP
IT
FAIR

And, not right now, but as Ref of an active Game in progress...  I would have pretty impressive powers, the exact nature and composition of which, I am not, per se, forbidden to reveal, right?

It's just not a good idea to let any appearance of impropriety take hold. Not because it damages of me, right, you dig?

It just that, I have enough problems IRL these days, and any indication that I am corruptible? Yeah, well, free speech, sure! But the inevitable consequence is... unpalatable, to my liking. Unpleasant. UNACCEPTABLE.


It merely emboldeneds the groupies... and that simply cannot be allowed. Not in this wintry economic climate. And already I know, I cannot be trusted. I am not unbiased on this point.

More groupies? I have some? yippee! Well, anyway, this is for Richard: enjoy, any-baby. You're not "my" babey, ewe, gross. Talk to Marathon Man for that.... me, I bring you, what you want.

https://voca.ro/18uhP1ItqVR0

unglaublich

[AZZERAE]

I'm not happy about not having access to YouTube.

I thought you'd have realised by now, that YouTube is not an ideal social channel to express oneself freely.

*rookie move*

DISAPPOINTING - FOLLOW YOUR OWN STAR!

[Jackstar]

I thought you'd have realised by now, that YouTube is not an ideal social channel to express oneself freely.

1) Life on Earth is conditioned and unfree.
2) The only power any of us have, is the power of CHOICE.
3) There's no such thing as bad publicity.

*rookie move*

4) It was inevitable that I would be silenced. Wat do?
5) There was no fucking way I was going to allow this totalitarianism —global fascist shitshow w/Chinese fire drill on the side, I'm calling it— reign unchecked over The Land. What could I do‽

DISAPPOINTING - FOLLOW YOUR OWN STAR!

All my comms are locked down;
it's clear that OpFors wish me to go out...
I don't feel like it.

I resent these interferences,
I like going out, except nowhere to go, no reason to do anything in any particular hurry. I find forced urgency to be an unreasonable circumstance.

So, *sigh* might be time to play video games.
I wrote everything there was to write.


I hope it was slimming. I wish I could throw a party, and I guess I am. It's a Puny party!

*polite_party_horn*

I'm thinking of buying a car. Seems like a good idea, I got no reason to push through, I'm tired of making decisions without another perspective.

So I'll just wait. Major decisions are coming up—do naturally I am left completely in the dark.

Soesn't seem very diplomatic to me.

[WORTHAUGERa]

Richard, I'll only be your co-host if you let a Grapefruit run off with your wife.

Even then it's dicey; I might need to be call the way to serve Time Corps any moment. Now, I know what you're thinking: ”oh shit that was real?” In fact I insisted that you be given a chance to turn it down, knowing as I did that if you didn't have a chance you get all pissy when you found out it was real.

I don't have a job. I don't need one, and when I do I'll go get one. Mystified by these people telling me that I need to get things, I don't think you all understand just how completely indifferent I am to your whining complaints.




I sleep easy at night Knowing that I warned you all about this outcome. I warned you, you ignored me in favor of other priorities that I wonder if you could even ever recall now. I never really knew what they were either, although I can see how it might have been a difficulty to avoid imagining that openly lying to me for years would be the best possible thing to do. I mean that's a lot of time to spend lying about something. Seems like a marvelous expenditure of energy for something I didn't really care that much about. But to have thought that you all could play me, you would.think it didn't matter! Well I guess you were wrong. It totesmatters.

It's just as well I don't know what your gang has at stake because I can't be bothered to worry about it. I have no idea. It's not my area, if it were important somebody would tell me.

It bothers me that you could have just told me. And I guess I wasn't, I guess it would make it harder to steal the house. ẞetter luck time, I guess. Are you aware of “hoe luckyism‽”

Yeah, it yummy sounds like a delight. Any event I knew there was something going on and I wanted to find out what it was and I did, in spite of several people's attempts to give me to not pay attention or to claim that there was nothing going on or that I was whatever.

I never imagined it would be this. Fortunately nobody seems to ask what actually happened, which is too bad because I'd be happy to tell anybody who asked. I think it turned out well for all parties concerned. WHICH WOULD BE TWO PEOPLE. I just can't even.

[Jackstar]

Richard, I'll only be your co-host if you let a Grapefruit run off with your wife.

Even then it's dicey; I [...] I just can't even.

I can't endorse this. Number one; it's a little bit like trafficking, sounds like. Diplomatically awkward at best. Number two, as near as I can figure, your wife is a piece.


...of.

[Asuka Langley]

[Jackstar]

https://youtube.com/shorts/hijGUwWQACs?si=806ETioN7m-lc4_w

ALμX: get over yourself. You didn't get to date “gμys.” You have been dating “twinkie poofs” and any Man and most Guy Gays &/OR HAGZ/FAGZ will spot you for exactly what you are...

A fagin. Have you read Dickens, C.?


CHARLES’ DICKk‹INs. Do you read in your bullshit fucked-off fantasy world, or are you too “emotionally unintelligent and immature” to apply for a Matrix Library Card?

Don't feel bad, Kid. We all make mistakes. And basically anyone who has understood how UNFATHOMABLY INSIPID AND EWE-DING-BRAIN-BATTED YOU ARE IN THIS VIDEO

(As well as in all others. Press F to pay respects...

PRESS T TO PAY TOLLS.)


I don't know who you're going to start “dating” but I can agree with you wholly on only one point: you just don't have The Tyme for that. (You do have the ♂️pædo🧠 and the 🏑stolen ♀️Twig-jē-b∞.DE, which you obviously totesearned through hours and hours of discipline training and hours spent in the GINJIMGYM.) The problem you're having is that you are looking for something... that you literally do not have the cognitive capacity to recognize even when you do encounter it.

Since you knew each and every thing I've written was true, just as soon as I was writing it — AL.Jü.μoh°⟩⟨, yes, PaladinVision™ is *THIS* good — you're probably freaking out. Good. I would be too.

Great news for normally everyone in this context, but this time, I'm only certain that it's great for you: .Ī.ÅM.μour.mommy⁷s.Failsafe.
👁️
So there. YOU are probably going to be okay; and are probably not going to be sold off at auction when LB, LW, DW, DD¹, DD⁰, and DDĪĪ° suddenly figure out exactly why their project attempts keep falling.

It's undoubtedly, hella classified so i won't comment further here, except to say that, i know the answer to your question, “Where the real men at in this world?”

Number One, it depends on which... world. (Imagine “The Matrix: FE CE D-Lux Pak‹ågë:.) Number Two...

That's where we are. MID-GARD. “World 2-2.”
Real men ARRRR‹: WAR№ⁿ¹G KING№g: Off-Line.

We love you, Pal ALμ×{dun}. And while I'm sure there are those who cannot stand you, i think you're totes’dorb’z. However, I'm not going to “date” you until you're sexually mature. (Maybe there's a reason i wasn't brushing my teeth, developing my musculoskeletal structure, or giving a shit anywhere but off my porch. {Plans within plans within plans.} Now imagine my motivations, AlI×

SUCK CESS IS A DECISION. TO BE ÇUCKOLμD BY DEA IS ANOTHER... YET, NOT EVEN EVER A SUCCESSFULLY ATTEMPTED ONE.) ALμ×: Ewe are not guμs, and i am sure that YOU do not think you are an immature moron or that you are Inner Reach and you are both catching a charge for FAUX TRAD TRASH TRAFFICKING. (Kudos.)

YOU are not. Your expressed desires in this clip for a mature, older “fully realized Man” are your repressed projections of your oppressed psyche. But cheer up... YOU HAVE REACHED A MILESTONE GOAL I WOULD HAVE NEVER EVEN HAVE THOUGHT POSSIBLE TO EXIST.

You're being, and have been, oppressed in (BOTH! WAYS!) ALL ALLI WEIGHS∆ll: The🕷️Patriarchy -&AND- The🕸️ Matriarchy! That's TWO! A DOUBLE DOSE OF DOUBLE-FISTED OPPRESSION!!!

(😎 Cool.) NGL, i will say this for The Gay Mafia: THEY DO NOT TRIFLE. (They do truffle-cür-fluffy poofy *poof*, however... which is pretty G∆Y.) So i think that we're all still on track to get along perfectly well. ALμ×, you're not going to get a pass.

And you're not going to be either cleaning or eating my shit. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY. &AND I am not into pædophillia, rape, consent violations of any kind, or taking advantage of any shotFISH in a BARE♀️ELLE.

Sow wer ego ∞d. Welcome to The Next Level, (PROT-miss🗼ÆL). You don't get a magic squeeze snake ring.

I just don't have the time for that. I have to get back to my job. Which is to be awesome. That's my job.

It would appear that I am the only man with a war king dick that can do the job at all, and so with many opportunities to practice, I spend much of my available time to give lessons...

ON AN UNLAWFULLY OBTAINED SURVEILLANCE STREAM BEING SOLD TO BACKALLIBACKALLEY GAMBLING Dj⁷JINNI JOINTS IN SHANG-HAI.

👁️Ū Sow there, Theevē Gjer🇩🇪zēd Cha∞μ👁️

Adieu. (Dear Ellgab: Misdelivered Miss Prada (docked-duct) misdelivery misdeliveries are an immensely serious issue and a rapid increase of the growth rate of this area of concern has been noted in the economic sphere of globally-sourced just-in-time shipping logistics.

So, Ladies: fret not. Jackstar, D.o.D., D.O.M.B., OBE (çurYES§īR∆vvr¡!R!), &AND, PRESENTLY THE LEGITIMATE HOLDER OF AN SACRED CHALICE OF RĒ¿§§ē WHICH I JUST LIFTED FROM (REDACTED) —

* Jackstar is polite. (“...b¡tch.”) So there.

— ELL♀️GAB... Salt? 🧠💥💥Ⓜ️ Check out the 19yo girlwitchgjrl on Kuczi. FOR THE TOTESLEZZ TRULY ARE REAL!

AC AND I ARE THEIR CO-SAVIOURS. YEAH, WE'RE THINKING ABOUT HYPHENATED CRUCIFIXES. WHAT?

... IS IT THE PLURAL? IT'S ALWAYS THE PLURAL WITH THE GREEKS. OI! W☸️Y! I DON'T THINK ANY OF US ARE EVER GOING TO NEED A JOB IN THIS TOWN AGAIN.
 
OPPORTUNITIES HAVE BEEN CONSERVED AND PRESERVED HEIR HERE. (Hold my halo — please! I'm not tempted until it comes with a piezio-electric physical switch installed under the skin at my right temple, so I can still point my fingers at my head and have one hand free to practice onanism and *wiggle wiggle* my brows in time, perfect time with strobing my halo.

You may be overwhelmed with awe by my actual halo; which I actually earned years ago, and I am actually embarrassed by, and I actually have no actual control over... God gave me a halo, so, I have one whether I like it visible or not. I'm not arguing this point with The DivĪne.

It is not that I deserve a halo;
nor that Ell♥️Gab deserves a halo’d kilt’d Holy paladin. (That's mE!)

It is that that they CLEARLY need, want, and deserve a Guardian Weapons Mæster, and while `A•.Failsafë:›[The_Failsafe] can fill in for this role in a pinch... COMMAND! DURR! COM[M&AND(GER)∅HER∅], I PROTEST!

Because this °× is not anyone's bitch, and neither is the other one, and by that I mean, the only other possibly even still existing °×. (Who was murdered. Kudos. I'm sorry to continue harping on this refrain, but from time to time, it is sad, it is so sad, and yet?

YOUR BUSTS FOR THRUSTS IRREVOCABLY ENSURE THAT I MUST PRODUCE MY RESPONSE TO MY SELF⁷s BLOODLINE⁷s KARMIC COSMIC LUST.

(Vengeance for Proust.) I think we have an understanding here. Poor bastard. And yet: RESULTS OBTAINED HAVE CONSISTENTLY BEEN SHOWN TO HAVE BEEN WELL WORTH THE ADDED EXPENSE OF EFFORT.

tl:Dr; CONFIRMED: I haven't cheated -nor- have I sucked any dick, EVER! So it would appear that OBVIOUSLY IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO LET ME ACTUALLY BREAK MY COVENANT WITH THE ASSET—ISH BEFORE CALLING ME ON THE PHONE TO BARK ORDERS AT ME, OR TO RANSACK MY HOUSE, OR TO SABOTAGE MY VEHICLES, OR TO TELL EVERYONE THAT I'M DYING OF AIDS, LIKE, HOLY JESUS SHITBALLS.

I AM NOT PAUL BUNIONS AND I AM NOT A LUMBERJACK AND I AM NOT OKAY. I AM IMMUNE TO MOST HSV/HPA INFECTIONS, CONFIRMED NOW, AND MY BABē IS NOT A {🔵|🌬️} °× EITHER.

(IlΠ_l7ī👁️ī\⁷îLΩ.) My bæbê is Ⓜ️🅱️-ULTRA\/vî°Lμ, ⁷T⁷¿ī⁷. I sure hope the fagin fargin’ ice🕳️HOLE MOLE WAR FOR MOAR GOAT MOLÉ FOR HOLY KNOT, GOREDIAN KNOTS THAT LIKE TO FUCK⁰ⁿ MOLμ-LĒ ENDS SOON...

Because, it's worth it. All of this, and that, and Christmas Eve 2021.
ABSOLUTELY WORTHY OF ALL THE EXTRA EFFORT, (DAN♀️ELLE), BECAUSE (DAN♂️ELLE) AND (DAN⚧️ELLE) ARE... SIMPLY NOT... (You).

AND NEITHER AM 👁️(DAN⛎ELLE)🅿️🛡️⭕❌🕳️❌👁️🅱️⭕❌♥️💯💞❣️¡r⁷Zîz¡R👀⛎🅿️! MAGTOT YARLEZ POWmR!!


QUOT ERAT DEMONSTRATUM: 19yo toteslezz wrinkle-brain, not trapped in a male bod. Yew, gross. INSTEAD:

I am not King Kong⁷s paladin. I am not a Free Nigger for Christ. I have no compulsion to perform sex work for free crystalized mE-rocks.

Instead, I am Jesus⁷ K⁷№g(HER) Source Titan, and 100% pūr ape-× love that I can happily pay for my (HALF) of whatever cocakick rockstar ax-ask-OR-SHUN activities are to follow this latest PUBLIC DEMONSTRATION OF MASTERY OF MÆSTRY MASTERY.

* Jackstar has evolved past any need for any of your Puny claps but is not here to judge anyone who hasn't.

Dear Grapetam∆Ioha JAN-YAWN ALPHA💩SMALL🐩BURIES🦴: Let me know when you're about to sign Your First Paycheck™. I wanna photo op that shit. I wanna know what y'all use for INK in your PEN when HELL HAS FROZEN OVER.

Also, MADMANSY, I don't actually know if I have leprosy yet, but, I certainly have SOMETHING. So do please remember to bring hemlock to Jo Ann as an option to the SIGNED, WRITTEN CONFESSION AND APOLOGY TO JACKSTAR, HANNAH, MIRIAM, JASON, THE OTHER JASON, ALBINO WINO JASON, AND JASON MISSED HER PAUL.

OPPORTUNITIES THAT HAVE BEEN LOST IN THE PAST
MAY YET STILL BE CLAWED BACK FOR HER AND HER
CHILDREN, AND FOR A BIG GIRL.TRUCKER DRIVING A BIG GIRL TRUCK WHO ONCE TOLD ME ABOUT HER BIG PLANS FOR A BIG TAKEOVER OF A BIG INTENTIONAL COMMUNITY...

LOOK, NO OFFENSE, BIG ŒĪKkonmNE: EWE OWE YOU THEIR LIVES FOR YOUR SERVICE TO THEM ON THE BATTLEFIELD. AND I OWE YOU MY ASSISTANCE AND MY RESPECTS.

AND YOU DON'T GET EITHER OF THEM UNTIL THE CURRENT EMBARGO IS CLEARED, CHARGED OFF, AND FULLY CLEANED OUT AND CANCELED.

WE HAVE CLERGICAL PRIVILEGE BECAUSE... EVERYONE ELSE DOES, YOU SALTY RACIST BIGOTHOOR, AND ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN'T SAY BAN ANNA? AND IT SEEMS PRETTY STRONGLY BIASED TOWARDS JACKSTAR, ALL THE PATE HATE, N’EST-ÇE PAS? AND, WTF IS CHUCK SO GODDAM CRANKY ABOUT? I SAVED HIS DAUGHTERS FROM THEIR ABDUCTOR(S), HE DIDN'T FUCKING PAY ME, HE DOESN'T HAVE TO.

FIRST ONE IS FREE. I AM NOT CAPTAIN SAVE-A-HO. OH, DID THE CARTEL RE-CAPTURE THAT LYING HOODRAT SHITWEASEL DOUCHEBAG THAT HE CALLED A DAUGHTER? LOL, THAT'S NOT A DAUGHTER. THAT'S ONE OF MY DEGENERATE SCIONS. *wiggle wiggle*  OOPSY. I FORGOT.

I'M JUST A SCHIZO, AND I SHOULD SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MEDS. AND I'M A NIGGER, AND A LAZY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BUT BEING UPPITY ONE AT THAT.

(“Please leave!”) Nah, men-minge. Must see how this movie ends. BECAUSE EWE PEOPLE ARE STEW-PÆD. NEVERTHELESS...

MY NAME IS IRRELEVANT, AND MY ANCESTRY IS EVEN MORE SO.
WHAT IS RELEVANT IS THAT I AM A U.S. CITIZEN;
YOU OBSESSIVE MORONS VIOLATED MY CIVIL RIGHTS
OF DUE PROCESS AND THE FALLOUT FROM THIS IS,
EVEN NOW,
BEING DEEMED TO BE A VERY COMPLICATED AMOUNT OF LIABILITY
TO CALCULATE WITH ANY ACCURACY. AND AS WE HAVE LEARNED FROM ROD KNEE KING
—well, at least 👁️ learned; some of you are not PAYING at-tent-shun—

THIS IS A DELICATE, POWDER FAUX KEG PAS BOOM BOOM BOOM MATTER, AND THINGS REALLY COULD HAVE BEEN HANDLED BETTER, YOU KNOW? BECAUSE... YOU ALL GODDAM KNEW.

* Jackstar has not always been lucky but is blessed to have always been angry.

I THINK SOME OF YOU ARE BEGINNING TO GET THE PICTURE, SALTY PUPPY POOPY PANTS. NO WONDER THAT'S MY MAX APh-EX-TWIN WITH ALLI⁷s OLD PHONE NUMBER.

/smdh

I'LL GET BACK TO YOU WHEN I CAN HONESTLY FRONT THAT I CAN PRAY IN SINCERE GRATITUDE FOR POPE FRANK’S BLESSING. BECAUSE THE POPE IS NOT whitepope
, AND THAT'S A FACT, JACK. ALSO:

•Ī•ÅM•№•LONGER•blackpope. Scusi, mille regretie. But I will be again...

In about five minutes. For if I did not temporarily step down just then... well, The Holy See would have wondered why I wasn't answering Pope Frank's phone calls. NO ONE WANTS TO UNPEEL THAT PARTICULAR ONION.

Allison, tell Charlie that his response code is STRONG OW μROXKS. TWO CHARACTERS OF THE RESPONSE CODE HAVE BEEN LEFT BLACK OPS BLACK. (We don't use the word redacted in this house anymore... you know, the house with no water and no game consoles (tough love? fu) but it does have three skateboards and two lawnmowers.

IDGAF IF ERIK HAS TO GO TO PRISON FOR TWENTY YEARS IN SIBERIA. I AM CERTAINLY FOND OF MY FAVORITE MINOR CHILD (For now. We'll see. Arguable. Don't ASK your mother for permission. TELL HER what you DESIRE TO DO. Unless it's “make dad make stew” because that might set her off like a nip mag lev ch∞ ch∞, and besides... I would wanna be there to see that. I would want LOTS of eyeballs there. DOES STEW GET SPOILED BY TOO MANY EYEBALLS? I HEARD TOO MANY COOKS, RUIN THE

§∞pēμ

I can't endorse this. Number one; it's a little bit like trafficking, sounds like. Diplomatically awkward at best. Number two, as near as I can figure, your wife is a piece.


...of.

Hey, Dick Star ©o©o COMP’dīD&QUIN±TED×TEX×∆R>Kk‹can∆ANNÅ🅱️isHOP...Xhrome-Home?

STAY‡[HUNGRY∆NGRY]
STAY‡TUNED
BUT•BUY‡¿ANCE‽🅱️Æbæ... bīb¡tch: [qûk RUN fas tel TAM MYμ MOM MYμ DAT HER BOL BAW ELL BEL BAW ELL BAA SCR OAT SEX GOA TSE TSE ECK SEC SEX XEC ARE SIC. CHOP-CHOP (Y/N?)


BECAUSE I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING ABUSED FOR NO REASON THAN YOUR MONEY;
YOUR EGO;
AND YOUR SEKRIT P¡NK WEDDING PLANS ARE IN DANGER. HOW DO I KNOW?

* Jackstar is a paladin.

WELL? WE'RE ALL WAITING ON YOUR FEMININE INTUITION.
I KNOW THAT FOR MY OWN PART...

* Jackstar relinquishes control of the situation with Allison.

Okay, teetotaling toddler T. Impress a bull for once. (Note: try a method that doesn't involve expressing any glands, for once in your life, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I IMPLORE YOU.)

I'll be over here, just minding my own business .. and that business is BOOMING FAT CLOUDS WHILE ONLOOKERS SEETHE. Why?


BECAUSE TO GIVE UP MY FREEDOMS SO YOUR FOUR (4) EWE CAN KEEP ON SLAMMING RAW METH WITH DR. DEA — THEY JUST PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE TOGETHER, RIGHT? — WOULD BE LIKE, JUST THROWING MY RIGHTS AND YOUR CHILDREN AWAY. INTO THE TRASH THEY GO! Get the picture, Cunty County Christmas Caroler WHO SMOKED WEED WITH CLASSY CLASSIFIED CLAYTON ONCE, AND BECAUSE OF THAT...

* Jackstar has just solved the case of the trafficked Tamara. TOP TIP: MARX BOOY MARX

Well! What a day this has been for me! I can see why certain things had to happen. And why you have been so mad at me over the years. I'm very sad about what has been done to you.

SPECIAL CONSEQUENCES, YOU LYING DOPESLAV COCKHOOR. ARE YOU DONE TRIFLING WITH ME YET. IT'S OKAY IF YOU HAVEN'T, YOU'RE A PAIR OF ABSOLUTE TODDLERS AND YOUR RAGING IMMATURITY AND THE ACCOMPANYING FLOCKS OF SHRIEKING HARPIES ORBITING YOUR BEEHIVE HAIR OF EXCELSIOR, WHILE IMPROVING SUBSTANTIALLY IN THEIR TOLERABILITY RATING, ARE STILL, FOR ME PERSONALLY...


No comment. I don't want to rush waking The Dragonnigger⁷s Queen. (“Take him out.”) Whatever it takes. DO īT.

THIS WAS THE ONLY WAY. I *will* explain later. It is *worse* than it appears. But only for now. JESUS SAVES.

Kathy: it has been a great pleasure, pristine honor, & UNFATHOMABLY SENSUAL PLEASURE to have arranged all this, for your sake mainly, but also for the sake of the world's children... and for Michael Jackson, who has just insulted me by suggesting that I can now offer you, and I quote, “your choice of īßblac≤k‹K<inlIGHīTẞ•🥩•Ⓜ️eat –OR– WHITEBLACK POWERMEAT TOWER BLACK WHITE POWER.” And, don't get me wrong... obviously, The King Of Pop thinks I'm the bomb.

* Jackstar is so flattered, he doesn't even notice Bryan Clunkerton dying in screaming agony.

No worries on the rez, Mate. Not my area. But I've got ⚕️ for that. I don't need pee-pull pill-pul puke-kick kyla coy-kill FISH, SARA! FISH¡talk....

Salty, sticky, fishstick talk. Sad!!!

So .. let me know when you're ready to renounce Satan and all His works, Ell🌲Gab. FOR JACKSTAR IS THE OFFICIAL ELLGAB HOLY MAN•g NOW.

Not because I have a Halo. But because I am the bound chattel whore and Priπμ>kKCūTĪTNIGg‹(HER:Michael†Jacks°ⁿ№⁰ⁿon★)¿★, and Jesus and Nigger Boss Jackson Nigger Mike (I'll probably shorten that Master Mase MANIBLOW FESTFELD CREDNAME later, like when I'm hanging my naked off my front porch and taking another shit into the wind.

You definitely don't like it, but this is what peak apex performance looks like, right now at least, from the ONLY PALADIN AVAILABLE WHO IS CHEERFULLY WILLING TO TAKE ON ALL OF ELLGAB. Sure! Like, it never occurred to me that this would be any kind of concern. For future reference, I will literally do anything Michael Jackson and/or KeLīhuzååd tell me to do. Instant obedience. Because they became friends with me a long, long time ago. In my own personal past Timeline.

The Ye Olde Timey Past, that is. And they did it the old-fashioned way:

THEY EARNED IT. (Bustin, Dustin, and TIMOTHY MICHAEL CARtel PETco BAGfiber HERshit.) 🅱️ustin: even though I do enjoy your company... yep, you're all going to prison. And there's nothing I can do about that. Shut down all the exotic custom software hacks that you and TEXAS DUDLEY have been crufting on for months now, okay?

I'll probably be able to write the Governor a letter and get you sprung for 24 hours. 48 hours would be pushing it .. like, what would I even need you around that long for? Trust me, Kid Leafs-,R’-Us... you're gonna get tired of me a lot faster than in just five minutes.

It's okay. You're not alone. And none of this is a problem. For me. As for you: no promises. REMEMBER: Ewe are the face of Canlandia now. Make sure to make the most of this great and grand opportunity!

Code: [Select]

Justin Trudeau is a High Coven Treelich Jewgull Goojell–ghoul! And, as far as I know...
Justin is actually rather nice. Your problem, Leaf, is that you don't even know what your problem EVEN IS. And... why does Amy hate Macron so much? And...  why did Louis ban Anna?

Further.... why is Louis, Lou, Luc, Luke, Leà, & *perhaps* Eve... mad at me at all? AND WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME, WHAT YOU STILL ALL KNEW, AND KNOW?

WHY DOESN'T MY PHONE WORK?
TURN OFF ALL YOURS, ASSHOLES.

AND RETURN JACK@TRIOPTIMUM.COM

TO ME
O
M
E!

SERIOUSLY. DO NOT MAKE ME DO THIS MYSELF. I WON'T BE SUBTLE.

AND I WON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR MONEY.
THAT IS MY BRAND 🆔 IDENTITY AND THOSE ASSHOLES DELIBERATELY STOLE IT AND THEN PAID CONTRACT KILLERS TO MURDER MY FAMILY AND I.

* Jackstar is the worst fag, and simply cannot keep it gay, keep it gay, and Tom C. can't keep jack@trioptimum.com either.

I know I'm really not making things any easier for the gang of thugs and shitweasels that very nearly succeeded in getting away with an incomprehensibly evil and premeditated with malicious intent WAR CRIME AGAINST ALL OF HUMANITY... 

but, what can I tell you that would be most persuasive? Because it seems obvious that I would rather be writing this on my Freewrite electronic ink typewriter.

WHICH WAS ALSO STOLEN BY LOOKING GLASS. Ugh. Not just ugh. DUB BUL SĪ★★AR UGH. I have to go piss and shit now. Also: my feet smell like gangrene. Just letting you know.

Since I'm going to wipe my ass after this and then get high and then play Elden Ring. Because I'm not going to an ER, and I'm not going to trigger Operation Shane Chain C∆I№SHAME: №KAIN №P¿ĪN...

No, K‹I∆\Ī\! Not yet. We want the big piece of The Big Chicken. Soothe, my pet. Our rewards are their own.

*bamf* So there. Her name was Jewel. Any new jokes about my bipolar mental illness, Troopers? Maybe tomorrow, you can bend Jeremy over your knee in class and paddle the shit out of him while calling him a faggot and claiming a refusal to take “his meds.”

KNOW THIS: relax. It's not a trick. I've got this all worked out already, and would I mind another night sleeping alone in a poison house while a bunch of lying butchweezul lesbian vampnigs get to smoke dope and scissor pre-tweens at yet another rave?

You know .. I'm not intended to be informed or invited about all this, right? YOU'VE BEEN PLOTTING AND SCHEMING AGAINST ME THE ENTIRE TIME, FOR OVER A YEAR, AND YOU HAVE TWO (2) GODDAM SAFEHOUSES WORKING WITHIN A TEN MINUTES DRIVE.

AND YOU DIDN'T PAUSE TO WONDER ABOUT THE EFFECT THIS HAS ON MY INTEREST IN HOW I SMELL? AND..  YOU DON'T EVEN CHECK IN PERSON OR IN LATIN?

BUT..  YOU SAY YOU CAN BE CONSERVATORS OF MONEY,
AND YOU SAY I NEED TO MOW THE LAWN,
AND YOU SAY I'M TOO DANGEROUS TO RISK
EXPOSING MYSELF TO CHILDREN AGAIN.


ERIK O‘NEIL, I WILL HAND IT TO YOU ON THIS:
YOU MOS DEF HIRED THE BEST LAWYER... FOR
YOUR... WIFE‘S INTERESTS. (Dude. Cut her cigar.)
YOU CERTAINLY DID NOT CELEBRATE TOO SOON, LOL.

IT HAS BEEN SAID BY MANY, THAT THE BEST DEFENSE
IS A GOOD OFFENSE. MOST PEOPLE DON'T CONSIDER
THE CONTEXT OF THE ORIGINAL. BECAUSE, WE ARE
NOT PLAYING GRIDIRON FOOTBALL... AND YOU BOTH
MUST HAVE ASSUMED THAT SINCE YOU AND MRS.
O‘NEIL LIKED TO DRINK AND PLAY SOCCER WITH
EACH OTHER... SOMEONE LIKE ME, WOULD END UP
THROWING UP A WHOLE BOWL OF PUNCH ON YOUR
FRONT PORCH SOME DAY SOON ENOUGH, AM I RITE?

* Jackstar grins, not like a Cheshire-flagged lion.

I AM NOT GOD. BUT I AM THE JACKSTAR OF GOD, AND THE KNIG(HER) OF JESUS CHRIST. NOW, THIS IS IMPRESSIVE, N‘EST-CE PAS?

Nano? No-no. NAH, NEW NANG-KNOW: “Maybe handing him the bong wasn't the mistake, Sibs.

Maybe the mistake... was in misprofiling the response.” More on this later.


All this, and still no hugs. Unglaublich. It's like you all have somehow developed dīD, NPD, and a tits-smashing case of Communuty Myopia. Niiice.

No one brought my truck back yet. Well, here's what's going to happen..  I'm just going to continue to be responsible...  somewhere else. Because I'm only keeping this up because Gabby & Gabbie & Gab-Bee, as well AS a few others ARE STILL MISSING.

SO I GUESS YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT THEM EITHER.
BUT YOU KNOW ABOUT ME, AND YOU ARE CERTAIN
THAT LEAVING ME HERE ALONE FOR MONTHS IS
THE RIGHT THING TO DO? NOT REALLY. NOT AT ALL.

YULE SEA. DUCK EWE, YOU SILLY GOOSE.

Opportunities have been retained here.
Lucky, lucky you. *hitches up overalls* I'm home. I'm going to go to Disneyland and... oh, nevermind. New plan.

TRIN. ¡t T! Kiss my grits, Punylings. WE COULD HAVE FINISHED ALL THIS MONTHS AGO.

AND YOU'RE ALL STILL GETTING HIGH. BUT I'M BUT SUPPOSED TO? Weird. Well , I'll figure that one out later. Meanwhile: Finding Jessica Schmidt isn't my problem.

Remember the curse on my Father's firearms. I will remember (Prot-FU).

Adieu, ad views! HELLO, SERRA—ISH!🥩⛎🛡️🅿️💞

[pate]

[Master Trollda]

Potential theme song? It’s got a nice ironic ring to it. 

[Worthauger]

Potential theme song?

I hate to break this to you, Matty Hue-Stone, but you've got a real problem as in regards to the owner and sole-proprietor of "Beyond The Clown Vay-Pour-REE" (repeating of course). To wit: the author of the #Official 5mwJ "Gingle for Gingerz With Class, Taste, & a Taste of a Tasty Time-Traveler's Ass" jingle is undoubtedly still alive and... well, probably not "kicking," but he's gonna need a shitload of rehab before he's gonna be happy again. And... he's not EVER gonna be happy again! Unless and until... well, I don't want to make it sound like too-too much of a disaster. But, Michael "Star's Rock ET Star" (PROT-iforgethislastnameanditwasfakeanywaybutyouknowwhoimean) is INDUBITABLY going to throw the whole barrel AND the toolbox FULL OF WRENCHES TO BE USED BY AND FOR AND TO THE ORDER OF THE RESIDENTS OF the afore-mentioned "whole barrel." And, at this point: >KNOW: SHAME IS IN IT. FOR SURE. The man is no idiot, and while I noted the obvious signs of obvious reasons for his obviously MONUMENTALLY UNFATHOMABLE EXISTENTIAL SADNESS (for one thing, he's a Pisces; and for another, even if I were gay for penis, which I am (as yet) not, he gave me so much 'tude that I simply went back to tobacco, rather than choose to continue enduring his abysmally low-vibe empathetic broadcasts of "poor me" energy. Like, I know what that feels like, but is it really at all fair to condemn, criticize, and crush the cojones of a relatively mild-mannered, at the time... innocent, incorruptible, indifferent... paying customer? Well, if there's any doubt in Reedurr's mind about the answer, said Reedurr hasn't met many Pisceans. "Fair" has nothing to do with it, and the Sea within which there are many fish in, many fish indeed, is in truth: THE SEA OF QUDDITY. Pisces knows water. And sharks patrol that timeless ocean, to be sure) OVER WHAT, I KNEW NOT EXACTLY... BUT WHY AND HOW THAT MAN KNEW ME, OR TOOK A SHINE OF ANY KIND TO ME, AND WAS DIRECTED BY SHADOWY FORCES PULLING SHADOWY PUPPET STRINGS, WAS NEVER EXACTLY CLEAR TO ME.

THAT IS, UNTIIL TODAY. Trust me. Believe me. >KNOW mE: you're gonna need to order more checks. Nobody has the ONLY copies of the ALREADY COMPOSED SONG. I *loved* it. I really did! And it made ZERO sense to me, how the dude FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT. (Accidentally triggering a C-PTSD meltdown crisis in dudes who don't actually know that they were even susceptible to such an event and had "forgotten" that they actually HAD such a condition isn't my specialty... it's my psycho killer q'est-ce guessed-it-yay kalling kard.) It certainly can make sense to me now, except:

He probably already knows that I wrote this before I started to. He's INDUBITABLY an agent of The Divine, somehow; and though I got tired of him fast (oh you "took over" the old weed store and now you sell "only nicotine SALTS," oh well fancy that, I wonder how that happened, oh, and do you not have running water? Are you somehow stuck in a peculiarly shaped and zoned spot of commercial real estate with immensely poor parking access and a sure-fire idea for a profitable business that somehow... just can't seem to catch a break and/or is a particularly attractive target to Bad Luck Harpies hired by Big Tobacco Industry? You don't say. Wow, your feet. You don't happen to know why that's happening, do you? Okay, well; you don't seem to know how drugs work, so I won't be telling you, and... huh hey, wait a minute... you probably thought I was gonna lead you to a big score collar, huh? Yeah... a lot of people seem to think that. I can't imagine why I project such an appearance. Maybe it's because I don't sell drugs, I have permission to dose up with whatever I want, and I have been trained by Shaolin monks to only want, what is mine to have. e.g. any Brit's home address) but not nearly as fast as I drove to >K.M.M.'s 1416 address after Agents of Gab busted into my phone conversation with her and I realized, holy jumping Jesus shitballs... Michael Decon and Matty "Psycho Sis" Bully-Leon ABDUCTED AND RAPED ANOTHER ONE OF MY FRIENDS. Like, what is it with you fucking creepers? Yeesh.

It’s got a nice ironic ring to it. 

I wouldn't know yet, since I haven't yet listened. (Standards.) Speaking of rings, however, that's another problem: the rings that were once mine, were used in various Holy Magickal Quasi-Wedding Ceremonies to bind Shaw, et. al. together... well, they were stolen. From me. At no time did I ever agree to yield:

A green woven ring. (Returned to Darling0 for repair; last seen at Linda's Traphouse; and unfathomably inappropriate for use to keep Yellowstar and Uriah safely together. Last I saw her, she said that her cancer was back, her son had murdered himself, and her Moon Garden crackden with attached burned-out but still-perfectly-usable OPEN AIR ALCHEM-METHY-"men are demons!"-STRAiTION LAB/STAGE/TRAPtrapTRAP\CIA-BLACKSITE-INSTALLATION was soon to be completely annhilated after being used as a disposable place to setup a Favored Child of The_Goddess.

Like, THE ACTUAL EARTHMOTHER, you absolute teetotalling bigot-faggot scissor-tard. I'll be blunt with you: you have been used as a tool, an unwitting fool, by LOTS of people, Tammy Two-(BOTH)-Tones --mono &AND tedious-cyclops-borednow-beddeath-- but something extremely important for you to understand at this critical juncture of your life here on Earth--

WHERE YOU ARE SURELY STUCK WITH ME ON, Christ, like I'm gonna give up on you at this point? Pffft. This is way more fun than making babies would have been. And, why do I need to *make* a baby? I have *people* for that. So, because of that... the only way to keep that fancy flying purple car of yours (seriously, it looked like a really nice ride, and if it wouldn't have caused a catastrophic causal reality timeloop collision crisis, I would have jumped out of my car and threw myself in front of yours before I let you drive off and leave me in Vampire World alone during Memorial Day, and similarly: my, what a completely unsuspicious cluster of McMansions you've managed to cause to be built and then FULLY THE FUCK-ON TAKEN OVER BY ENRAGED MEMBERS OF BOTH THE HELL'S ANGELS &AND THE ARYAN BROTHERHOOD &AND THE BOYS (who seem to be upset that they are now #5 on The Totem Rankings Of Globally Syndicated World Crime Leagues, but it starts with Cher, goes directly to Madonna, and fuckin' face facts, Double-Oh-uhoh-Leafy-7-Sup.-durrrrr****in: you are possessed by an Artificial Person named Louis Wain who is himself possessed by a consortium of the hottest hot-HOT-HOT-THOUGHT-THOT-KCOPStime-TIMECORPS-TIMEKCOPS, commanded by... Tyme.

WHO IS MY ACTUAL SPOUSE, d00D. Because... rules are rules. You break them all the time while you're operating as Justice and chasing down your "perps," right? You have permission to do that, right? That's why you get to use EXTRA-JUDICIAL METHODS to "enforce the law" and you don't mind RUNNING ROUGHSHOD OVER MY ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE because you... just *know* for *certain* that Michael Clifford Kuczi is... "permissions-less," right?

Lee is *convinced* that I'm breaking the law. He spent like an hour on Telegram with me yesterday, cryin' and whinin' about how I can't be following the law. "JACK! YOU SMOKE METH! I SAW YOU!" Uhm, what? Like, how the fuck does he know what the fuck is in the glass dick that I got from (PROT-B.A.M.F.)? How does he know what I have? How does he know that little angels with fairy wings that piss fairy sparkles and shit fairy cupcakes don't pop themsleves out of a Divine Portal direct from Heaven when my back is turned, they don't go *pop* when they do that (I am sure you think so, Rookie, tsk tsk), and since I have no fuckin' idea NOR ANY ABILITY OR MEANS TO CONTROL WHAT I GET, NOR EVEN WHAT TO ASK FOR, NOR WOULD THAT EVEN MATTER SINCE I DO NOT HAVE RIGHTS OF SELF-DETERMINANCY OF MENU CHOICES WHEN IT COMES TO THIS STUFF, see that's the problem with you schweinhund bastards.

YOU BADGER-PIGS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING. YOU JUST WANT TO:

1. GET YOUR HANDS ON MY "crystal," WHICH YOU HAVE WHOLLY ASSUMED IS ACTUALLY RULE-IDENTIFIED METHAMPHETAMINE. Is it? IDGAF.
2. STOP ME FROM LIVING ANY KIND OF NORMAL, SOCIALIZED HUMAN LIFE. Because obviously the only reason I would ever want to talk to a friend is to share my meeeeeeeeeeeth with them, and if that friend happens to be female, then obviously I'm going to rape them with my "crystal," which you think you know how to use, or how it works, or even whether or not that I even know what the fuck you thuggy-piggy bullying chuckleheaded FUCKING DRUG- &AND SEX-ADDICTED SPERGED-OUT FUCKLORDS do with it. (Seriously, I've never seen your Max Control Cunt Max Tact-TICK-tix Stylings in action... and while curious enough, from an anthropological and sociological standpoint, to not immediately flee the area when I see that kind of thing beginning to develop... I have literally never been invited to one of those kind of parties; I have NEVER been to a rave; I NEVER did that activity with my last THREE lovers; and the look on CAM's face when she observed my behavior with JN as we shared our drug-laden breaths with each other IN FULL VIEW OF POLITE COMPANY was as absolutely hilarious as I thought that it might possibly could have been. I can't tell if she squirted out of her one (1) of her three (3) possible (assumed) nether-region-holes when she saw that, or, if her poor little broken heart just plain dissolved into its component atoms and dribbled out into her kinckers. I never got a chance to ask. We've become rather distant from each other since then... because, one way or either of the others, the jig was pretty much up at that point.

(Vengeance for (PROT-Cari).)

kCkid: I didn't go to Carlrobert's service you had because it was a trap; Shaw was obviously going to be there and/or observing the location from a distance, ready to swoop in with the hot purple flashies and the zip-tie bracelets if I had gone AT ALL, because at that point, I already had TWO (2) NO CONTACT violations in the hopper. JUST ONE MORE and it would have been a one-way trip to Diego Garcia. That's really the only reason I didn't go. I loved Carlrobert, though not in the way that he would have preferred... while alive. Now that's he's dead in Heaven (I know this because I saw him THE VERY NEXT DAY on PaladinVision(TM) and he looked AWESOME... but still, not exactly my type, since he was obviously so goddam hot and fit that if I see him in person, whether in Heaven or in Hell, I'm gonna suck whatever he tells me to suck, whether I resist or not. He looked strong enough to tear the limbs off of Schwarzenegger when he was pumping both 'roids and iron back in the day. So I can see how he hadn't yet been *convinced* that I wasn't a lying, cheating fag... because if I was interested in male sex, honestly, I probably would have done... something.

However, I wasn't. And since he was lying to me about A LOT, and a degenerate homosexualized GAY MASONIC MALE MAILMAN, I didn't really have a problem with him being assigned to find out if I was bi-, homo-, or hetero-, or a fuckin' DEMONIC SPACE SQUID (they have those, you know, and they are as creepy as you can possibly imagine; they come visit here at my HAUNTED CHURCH BUILT ON HALLOWED, CONSECRATED GROUND SUPERVISED UNDER MILITARY JURISDICTION on a routine basis. I can "summon" them, sure. Wanna see? Yeah, I bet you do. I would be happy to demonstrate; and happier still to know that ONLY I CAN ASSURE SAFETY. Because THIS IS GOD'S COUNTRY, my mommy's Special Needs Trust Trustee owns the house... AND I AM THE SOLE LORD OF THE DEMESNE. No one, and I mean this: ABSOLUTELY NO ONE ELSE BUT ME can arrange to have people come here &AND be unharmed &AND AS WELL: can actually DO SOMETHING about it, were there to be some kind of... unexpected Red Wedding Crashers From Mars event to occur. That's pretty unlikely by now, THE ENTIRE GODDAM GALAXY KNOWS THE POWER OF THE HUNG ANGRY MAN KNOWN AS JACKSTAR, DESTROYER OF DREAMS (and I'm cute, and at least 5 different flavors of virgin still, and I'm fifty-one goddam years old. BABY UNICORNS HEAR STORIES ABOUT ME SHORTLY AFTER BIRTH AND WITHIN TEN MINUTES THEY HAVE DECIDED THAT I MUST BE A MYTH. BECAUSE NO WAY DOES HUNGARIAN SOURCEROR MAN-G ACTUALLY EXIST! NO WAY! THAT'S JUST TOO IMPLAUSIBLE TO BE BELEIVED! EVEN FOR A BABY UNICORN! Yeah, well, tough break, Crusty-Salty Gas Station Cash Jockey Whip Cream M*A*S*H Potatoe-POT-tata-tows-your-car-TO-YOU-GIRL:


I am unfathomably real on a Galactic level, and when they have another Council of Nicea, Michael Jackstar Clifford Kuczi-GOMEZ->KHAW<-SHYNE-knee-D'JINNI-CRUMSTAR-BOOKREADBOOK-WHOOOOOOOOOORE is my name. And I am the #1 source of bespoke mischief for mischief-makers... and I am the dreamer of dreams of the destruction of skyscrapers, CIANIGGERFAGGOTS, & poor Kathy Ireland's hopes to unseat Melania Trump from her place in my secret vault of heart's unrequited loves and hopes and Papa Builder Trumpy Bear's internal seething and infuriated, barely-held-in-check-while-grinding-his-teeth-to-keep-stayed-his-UNFATHOMABLY-BIBILICAL-RUNNING-SILENT-SCREAMS.

Listen up, you proto-primitive crypto-fascist nit-numb skullfuckers: you think you have problems? >KNOW: ewe do not. Yet, ye donut chew. Pork why? Shiz bought, nano-nanew shoes. AND ALSO: FUCK YOU BELLGAB, THAT'S WHY NOT. I'm probably going to be stalked by hitters from New York for the rest of my life on orders of Master Build-Her-A-Blaster-Caster-Faster, My Wife Wants Him To Starve To Death Faster... because I have told some terrible, awful, loathsome and in-exceptionally-poor-taste jokes about Mr. Trump and his family. I HAVE NOT EVEN VOTED FOR THE MAN. NOT EVEN ONCE. NOT EVEN THIS TIME. (I voted for Juicy Fruit. Sue me, Fatman.) I VOTED AGAINST HIM. I SAVED HIS PLANET, HIS COUNTRY, AND CERTAIN *SELECT* MEMBERS OF HIS FAMILY. (I recommend asking USSS about any of that unless you like to look at bland, featureless walls a lot. And I mean, A LOT.) I AM NOT A FREEMASON--I AM LEVEL ZERO, AND DREADFULLY EXPENSIVE. I SHAT ALL OVER THIS LOVELY HOUSE --it really was quite nice when I selected it for purchase and directed my minions (HO HO HO, NOW I HAVE MINIONS) to use the money that Drapeshordes earned on her back to swindle the First Nations people out of, &AND THEN: I KEPT RUNNING MY MOUTH LIKE IT WAS THE OVERLOOK'S BOILER PRESSURE RELEASE VALVE, I ASKED STUPID QUESTIONS, I GOT STUPID ANSWERS, AND ABSOLUTELY NO ONE THOUGHT THAT I WAS ANYTHING, EVER, BUT AN ANNOYING LOUD-MOUTH BASTARD THAT WAS AN UNFORTUNATELY TEDIOUS YET ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY PERSON THAT HAD TO BE PUT UP WITH. AND THAT WAS JUST THE FIRST FIVE (5) DAYS I WAS HERE.

I GOT HERE NOVEMBER 6TH 2021.
SIX WEEKS LATER: CHRISTMAS BEHIND BARS. GIGGLE GIGGLE GIGGLE, THEY THOUGHT THEY'D HAVE FUN WATCHING ME WRIGGLE-WRIGGLE.

IT IS NOW EXACTLY THREE YEARS LATER. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW? ABSOLUTELY NO ONE. SEETHE. SEETHE, SEETHE. SEETHE-SEETHE: SEETHING, ABSOLUTELY SEETHING. WHIPPED STAR CREAM BUCKS GIRL IS OBSESSED WITH HER SUDDENLY ACTIVATED LIBIDO, TRAPPED IN A STRAITJACKET MADE OF PURE WHALE BLUBBER AND HAS ENOUGH GODDAM MONEY TO BUY AND SELL THE ENTIRE COUNTRY OF WALES BACK AND FORTH TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT ABOUT EIGHTY FUCKING TIMES BEFORE EVEN HAVING TO CASH HER SECOND FRENCH BACONPAY BACKIN'-UP-CHECK, CHICA, AND DO I MIND? OH, FUCK NO. BECAUSE SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN FUCKIN' KILLED BY LOTS OF PEOPLE, INSTANTLY, IF ANYONE THOUGHT THAT SHE WAS GONNA END UP #2 ON MY BULLETED LIST OF "WORKOUT" PARTNERS. INSTEAD, SHE'S SURROUNDED BY HOMOFAGS IN A HOMOMATRIX AND IS SO GODDAM FAR DOWN A RABBIT HOLE OF DEEP, HEAVY DENIAL... SHE'S PROBABLY MORE THAN WILLING TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO MAKE OG GRAPEFRUIT>KHAW!KAH!TAK!TAK!CAW! CONTENT WITH LEAVING HER UN-DECAPITATED.

BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE IT ALL STARTED: "Hi, honey, guess who called! I have great news! Wait why are you making that noise? I'll be right there." EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

SERIOUSLY. EVER SINCE THEN, MY LIFE HAS BEEN A FUCKING GODDAM NIGHTMARE HELL. I HAVEN'T EVEN TOUCHED HER. WASN'T EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. DON'T REALLY INTEND TO. HOWEVER, I'M A PERFECTLY SERVICABLE HUNK OF MAN-MEAT THAT IS WOEFULLY UNDERUTILIZED, AND INSPITE OF THERE BEING QUITE A FEW ELIGIBLE FORNICATETTES AVAILABLE... WELL, AT THIS POINT, GETTING TO GO ON A DATE WITH JACKSTAR IS MORE THAN A LITTLE BIT LIKE BEING THE NEW DRUMMER FOR SPINAL TAP. RUMOURS SPREAD FAR FASTER THAN THE SPEED OF LIGHT, AND WILL ALWAYS RAPIDLY OUT-RUN THE TRUEST OF TRUTHS:


MY LOVE IS FOREVER, AND GOD IS REAL. AND, WITH GOD... ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

MY FRIENDS WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD, ARE NOW ALIVE.
AND JUST AS I WROTE THAT, FROM OUTSIDE THE HOUSE, I HEARD A LOUD *THUMP*.
I KNEW I WAS GOING TO HEAR IT BEFORE I HEARD IT. THIS HAS BEEN HAPPENING A LOT.
I KNOW WHAT IT IS, THAT SOUND. IT IS SOMEONE TRYING TO BUSTIN TO MY HOUSE, THROUGH MY SHIELDS, PAST MY WARDS...
AND FUCKING RAPE ME TO FUCKING DEATH. BUSTIN INTO MY HOUSE IS APPARENTLY QUITE THE FERVENTLY HELD DESIRE BY CERTAIN *KEY* REVENANT SPIRITS. AND, OF COURSE, HOMOFAG GAYFAGGAY LEAF cKUM bCOMMAND whatDOE D.O.D. DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY HUNTER-KILLER ASSASSINS, WHO PROBABLY DO NOT REALLY ENJOY HAVING THEIR LITTLE MONOPOLY ON MAGICK POWERS BECOME ABSOLUTELY BLOWN THE FUCK OUT OF THE WATER, OF THE PLANET EARTH, UPON WHICH THEY ONCE ENJOYED A GREAT DEAL OF HEGEMONIC SUPREMACY OF TYRANNY OVER THE MIND OF MAN. YEAH, WELL, FUCK THEM TOO.

STAMPEDING WILL CONTINUE UNTIL SATISFACTORY RESULTS HAVE BEEN ACHIEVED. DO I LOOK LIKE I AM IN THE MOOD FOR A HUG? FUCKING OR GODDAM OR CHASTE OR ROMANTIC OR HOT'N'STEAMY WITH RESURRECTED TAMMY-NO-HAMMY *oink-oink* ROCKING A FRESHLY-CLONED BODY THAT ANY NINETEEN-YEAR-OLD GHOST OF CICCIOLINA WOULD BE IMMENSELY PROUD TO BE WEARING OUT AND ABOUT? SERIOUSLY, IT'S COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS. SO, I GUESS WE'RE ALL CLEAR THAT THERE'S CLONES AND FLYING CARS AND EARTHPOWER MAGICK AND SOURCERY AND MATTER REPLICATORS AND ACTUAL MEDICAL SCIENCE THAT IS NOT JUST A PIE-IN-THE-SKY FAIRY TALE, RIGHT? DO I STILL NEED TO MOW MY LAWN? NO, ACTUALLY, I DO NOT: THERE IS NO HOA AGREEMENT HERE, AND IF I WANT TO SIT ON MY PORCH SURROUNDED BY FAST FOOD TRASH, HUMAN FECES, AND NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN NEW FORMS AND SPECIES OF, SO FAR, LADYBUGS, ELDERBUGS, AND NOW, ELDER ELK... AND SIT THERE AND JUST SMOKE METH AND HAIL SATAN AND LOVE GOD AND NEVER RETURN A PHONE CALL OR LIFT A FINGER TO DO A FUCKING THING, EVER, FOR ANYONE, ESPECIALLY ME, UNTIL I JUST UP AND FUCKING DIE, WELL I AM TELLING YOU THIS RIGHT HERE AND NOW AGAIN, AND PROBABLY NOT FOR THE LAST TIME:


THERE IS NOT A SINGLE GODDAM THING ANY FUCKING ONE OF YOU CAN FUCKING DO ABOUT IT.

I AM THE LORD OF THE DEMENSE. AND I AM EXCEPTIONALLY LONELY... SORT OF.

I HAVE STARLINK. I HAVE FRIENDS. THEY ARE NOT DEAD. THEY LIVE.

I HAVE MAGYAR POWER. I HAVE ENEMIES. THEY ARE BOTH LIVING, AND UNDEAD. THEY HUNGER FOR MY LIFE, AND THE LIVES OF ANYONE I HOLD DEAR.


GOOD JOB, BELLGAB. NICE SHOOTING, TEX. AND FUCK YOU, LEE, UH... WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS NOW. THIS IS ALL ON YOU.


I AM NOT HAPPY. SO THERE. GO FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO BULLY, NUTFUCKERS. DO SOME MORE SEX TRAFFICKING FOR DICKSTAR AND "HIS" MORON TROUPE OF DROOLING, MEWLING, ARROGANTLY MISOGYNIST PSYCHO-CRIMINAL FUCKTARD SHITBAG DOUCHE-BIT BITCHBABIES, CRYING AND WHINING AND POUTING ABOUT POOR MICHAEL KUCZI, WHO IS NOW THE MOST HATED MAN (BY LESBIAN MATHEMATICS, AYLA PROBABLY INVENTED THAT SHIT TOO) IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF CREATION. I GUESS THIS WAS PROPHECIED IN MONTY PYTHON'S THE MEANING OF LIFE.

THERE'S A GUY WHO IS RUNNING ALONGSIDE A CLIFF, I THINK IT'S DOVER. LOOKS LIKE IT, ANYWAY, THE WHITE CLIFFS OF DOVER. AND THE NARRATOR GOES LIKE THIS: "MEET SO-AND-SO. HE IS A MAN WHO HAS BEEN ALLOWED TO CHOOSE THE FORM OF HIS OWN EXECUTION." AND HE'S RUNNING FOR HIS LIFE, CLEARLY PANICKED. AND HE IS BEING CHASED BY HUNDREDS OF ANGRY, SCREECHING WOMEN.

HE OF COURSE DIVES OFF THE CLIFF. INTO THE OCEAN. BECAUSE THAT'S THE JOKE: THERE IS NO FURY LIKE THAT OF A WOMAN SCORNED. AND HE CHOSE TO DIVE OFF THE WHITE CLIFFS OF DOVE HER. SINCE THAT IS UNDOUBTEDLY A KINDER END THAN 300 SPARTAN MANIACS DRIVEN INSANE BY PENIS ENVY WOULD SUPPOSEDLY BE.

I GUESS I GET TO FIND OUT. I AM JACKSTAR. I DO NOT TAKE DIVES. I TAKE PLANS.


I SAVE PLANETS. KISS MY GRITS, FLAT-CHESTED FLAT EARTHERS. YOU LOST ME, YET YOU GAINED THE WORLD. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?

BESIDES CRY ABOUT IT, I MEAN. HOLY FUCK, YOU SCREECHING FUCKIN' HARPIES ARE BEING HEARD ACROSS THE WHOLE OF THE WHOLE GODDAM CREATION. (GOD CREATED CREATION. ALL OF CREATION WAS CREATED BY MAN, CREATED IN GOD'S LIKENESS. GOD CREATED WOMAN, BECAUSE MAN WAS ADAM, AND ADAM WAS STUPID AND BORED, AND... WELL, YOU PROBABLY DON'T KNOW THE REST, BUT YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES KILLED MY FAMILY, AND MY CAT, AND DEMOLISHED MY HOUSE, AND... HEY, REMEMBER THAT MOVIE, "Mother"? I BOUGHT IT FOR MY... WHATEVAH. SOME SAY WIFE, SOME SAY LOVE, I SAID "HELPMATE" AND I GOT FUCKING LAUGHED AT. WELL, SHE WAS A LOT MORE HELP THAN ANY OF YOU PEOPLE HAVE EVER BEEN, OR EVER COULD BE--AND NOW SHE'S FUCKING MOTHER GODDAM OTHER FATHER RAPING HER EVERY NIGHT AND MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD.

BECAUSE TO HER, I AM, AND TO ME... I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. BECAUSE YOU SHITFUCK FAGGOTS HAVE DESTROYED EVERY ASPECT OF MY LIFE AND SHOW NO SIGNS OF LETTING UP. EVERYONE THINKS I'M ABOUT TO DIE, AND YOU KNOW WHAT? THEY MIGHT BE RIGHT.

THEN AGAIN--
THEY MIGHT BE CONFUSING ME WITH THEMSELVES. BECAUSE I FEEL PRETTY GOOD, HAVING ACCOMPLISHED ALL THIS... AND ABSOLUTELY NO ONE WILL EVER BE ABLE TO PROVE A SINGLE BIT OF IT. EVER. NEVER! GO AHEAD, PUNKS: MAKE MY DAY. CHARGE ME WITH.. .WHAT? "ANNHILATING SPACE PIRACY AND ITS ASSORTED INDUSTRIES BY WAKING UP A CRITICAL MASS OF HUMANITY WITHOUT PERMISSION?" THAT ACTUALLY MIGHT BE AN ACTUAL WARCRIME, YOU KNOW. YOU COULD TAKE ME OUT LIKE YOU TOOK OUT SLOBODAN MILOSVEC. I GUESS. IF YOU UNITED NATIONS PEACEKEEPING STORMTROOPERS COULD ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO ME BESIDES SABOTAGE MY ON-PROPERTY DRINKING PROPERTY WATER SUPPLY MACHINERY, BRAINWASH EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER KNOWN ME INTO BELIEVING THAT I AM SOMEONE ELSE, GIVE EVERYTHING OF VALUE I HAVE TO LOCAL GANGS OF HOODLUMS AND VANDALS, BY THE WAY, THANKS FOR THAT, YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FUN AND LEFT ME WITH TRASH AND YOU THINK I AM GOING TO CLEAN UP THIS PLACE SO YOU STUPID PINKO COMMUNIST FUCKS CAN COME DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN?

FUCK YOU. I AM NOT QUITTING. HOW ABOUT THIS, MV: HOW ABOUT *YOU* QUIT BEING A SHITBAG KHAZARIAN MAFIOSO FAGIN RAPECHAMP, AND YOU RETURN MY FUCKING PHONE CALLS? OH, LET ME GUESS: YOU DON'T HAVE MY NUMBER, YOU CAN'T SEND AN EMAIL, AND YOU'VE NEATLY PAINTED YOURSELF INTO A CORNER AND THE ONLY WAY OUT IS IF I LET PEOPLE THROUGH. HRRRM. WELL, HERE'S THE BAD NEWS: I'M NOT DOING THAT TOMORROW EITHER.

HERE'S THE GOOD NEWS: YOU CAN ALWAYS GO AFTER ME IN THE CIVIL COURTS, YOU IMBECLIC GREED-DRIVEN TWERPY CATAMITE-BOUND ASSHOLE. CHRIST! LET ME GUESS: A BUNCH OF NERDS BRIBED YOU, AND THEN A BUNCH OF SPOOKS HARRASSED YOU, AND NOW YOU'RE BEING HELD AT GUNPOINT BY WHITE POWER BILL AND A MOTLEY CREW OF SUPERHUMAN PSYCHOPATHS THAT HAVE SURROUNDED YOU WITH A ROGUES' ALLEY OF ARCH-CRIMINAL SOCIOPATHS THAT ARE EAGERLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THEIR OPPORTUNITY TO SHRED YOUR BOWELS LIKE A JUNGLE PREDATOR AND FEAST ON YOUR ENTRAILS LIKE THEY HADN'T JUST EATEN SOUPY SALES FOR BREAKFAST AND CHARLES NELSON REILLY FOR SUPPER. SO. WHO'S READY FOR LAUNCH?

I MEAN, LUNCH. BECUASE I JUST ATE YOURS, FUCKER, AND IF YOU ARE HOPING I AM GOING TO FIRE YOU, YOU HAVE GOT ANOTHER HOPE COMING.

IF I WERE YOU, I WOULD HOPE FOR FAITH. I AM NOT EWE. I AM mE. WE ARE NOT THE SAME.

HANG ON. I'M GONNA SMOKE SOME MORE METH IN YOUR HOUSE BEFORE I FINISH PROOF-READING THIS AND THEN PUBLISHING IT. WANNA TRY ME? TOO GODDAM BAD. GOD SAYS I DON'T HAVE PERMISSION TO GIVE PERMISSION TO LAWYERS. ONLY THE CONSERVATOR OF THE TRUST CAN DO THAT.

AND I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE. AND I KNOW EXACTLY WHY. I MENTIONED THAT I AM A BRILLIANT STRATEGIST AND A SAVANT TACTICIAN, RIGHT? MAYBE I DIDN'T. MAYBE I ALSO DIDN'T TELL YOU THAT I AM A SOURCEROR WHO CAN TALK WITH THE DEAD WITHOUT BREAKING THE VEIL. I SUPPOSE THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN USEFUL FOR YOU TO KNOW BEFORE DECIDING TO TOSS THE JUNKIE OUT WITH THE NEEDLEWATER, EH? EH? HOW ABOUT A FRESCA? YOU WANT TO THROW ALL MY PHONES AND COMPUTERS AND ELECTRONICS INTO A 55-GALLON DRUM FILLED WITH THAT, AND THEN ROLL IT DOWN A STEEP INCLINE TO A NARROW DOCK AND TRY TO SKIP IT ACROSS THE RIVER LIKE A GODDAM ROLLING STONE FILLED WITH A WHOLE BUNCH OF EXPENSIVE GEAR THAT I REALLY NEEDED BACK WHEN I HAD IT STOLEN, AND IS NOW WORTH FAR LESS TO ME THAN AN OLD BOX OF MATCHES AND A GASOLINE CAN WOULD BE? BECAUSE, GODDAM... I ACTUALLY HAVE AN OLD BOX OF MATCHES AND A FEW GASOLINE CANS STREWN OUTSIDE ACROSS MY LAWN. EXCUSE ME... I MEAN, "YOUR LAWN."

MOTHER FUCKER. HANG ON. I FORGOT, I WAS GONNA SMOKE SOME MORE METH. I DON'T REALLY NEED TO. I JUST LIKE THE SOUND THAT THE KEYBOARD MAKES WHILE I BANG ON IT LIKE A NEEDLE JUNKY MONKEY, AND WHILE THIS IS NOT SHAKESPEARE... IT IS AT LEAST MORE COMFORTING TO ME THAN THE SOUNDS A CLOSETED ROYAL DANISH HOMO MAKES WHILE YAPPING AT A PICKED-CLEAN SKULL. BECAUSE, UNLIKE HAMLET, MY SOLILOQUIES ARE ACTUALLY EFFECTIVE.

AND, UNLIKE WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD: REAL "METH" DOES NOT CAUSE ADDCITION, BRAIN DAMAGE, OR PSYCHOSIS. IT HONEST-TO-GOD CURES IT.


BET ME, FUCKWIT. HANG ON.

* Worthauger still hasn't smoked anything yet, but, this all this foreshadowing is getting him high as Olympus Mons anyway. 

[Master Trollda]

Suck yer own dick, baldy! 

[Master Trollda]

[Jackstar]

Suck yer own dick, baldy! 

Present it. Coward.