VIRGO ♍️ U HURT THEIR FEELINGS VIRGO!! JUST REMAIN SILENT & CLEAN UR HOME.. THEY’LL LET IT GO
Tarot Terrorladies becoming increasingly uppity with their dumb advice, and their stupid wisdom, and their low-vibe unwillingness acknowledge that, hey, you know what? Someone is being driven into a poor set of decisions... and now, that I've done my due dillegence, Spirit is free to interpose its' will on all concerned.
Especially... bad actors. Now, check it out! Slanderette #1 wants email contact. She's been waiting since last night. So instead of replying to her silly, insipid, inane... and
toteswelcomed with
totesecstaticjoy for the tremendous event that it was... THE SURRENDER OF THE RAM TO THE HART BY ORDERS OF THE WOLF IS AT HAND.
*adjusts* *coughs* So. I'm of mixed feelings about this. I ignored it for hours before I saw it, and then I went to reply, and then... uh I forgot. I did post her name here (yeah, she can sue me, with both (2) lawyers, roflmao), and I did announce that Metron handed down his old battleangel suit to her (INTRODUCING: GOLIATHAN) and so... I'm excepted to believe I'm supposed to jump for joy and call a person... who emailed me, after I said, "just call next time, Christ" and then I immediately post her a gift--does she even know what an appreciation would entail? Pfft, like I'm concerned--and then I'm.. uh, no one else wants to talk to me. Oh boy. I'm so lonely. I should leap at this chance.
Q is a sad trombone. Someone call The Piper. God, that was ridiculous. "ooh! ooh! Jack! Jack! time to paaaay... you owwweeee..." Oh for the love of the living Christ. Like I don't pay enough. Like I am in arears. With whom? Whom? Someone's frickin' mother? lol.
Face it, fascists. You're fucking done. I'm gonna grind your bones to make bread in the future, take it back to the past and serve it straight fried in a pan with greasy eggs and back to the whole damn crew, then go forward in time and offer the greasy, sullied pan to the surviving members to lick it up. They will, of course, all refuse--I can certainly pull off a reverse mageforce with a frying pan, no sweat, they'll think it their own idea to refuse, and then! AND THEN! I deliver my essence to the still-warm pan, let it briefly, lightly, yet with immense nuance, -congeal- around the little bits of egg and bacon and thick, heavy oil... and then I'll lick it out all by myself, I will scrub that whole goddam pan with the sloppiest tongue my jawbone can produce at the time... I'm gonna be channelling St. Bernard for this.
And by this I mean: lick it up like a big sloppy dog with a barrel of liquor hung around it's neck, and when anyone looks at me cross-eyed, I will simply say: "The Spirits have commanded me to without my essence from those unclean. and you... you, I have taken your measure! AND I DECLARE YOU.... FILTHY! MY ADJUDICATION IS FINAL!!!
5LAM5"
So, I've decide that I'm going to start collecting gavels. Wooden gavels, marble gavel, petrified wood gavels, little miniature non-functional replica gavels with little duckies and bunnies laser engraved onto the handle--BOTH (2) SIDES!!!!--and Mrs. Paul's skull. No! Not the
real thing, I was gonna leave that for someone who really lubbs her. Me, I could
probably content with a replica. But really, I'd have to ask her, and at this point... what difference would making that kind of commitment even
make?
I'm going to get down and break it down and really put myself into a space, where I could have all these needles... but instead, I will choose to
eschew the forbidden technology!! Not because it is hard...
BUT BECAUSE IT IS EASY. FOR ME.
oh shits, I just remembered Hayzell. roflmao. You'd think, after enduring the nightmarish hell of being forced--FORCED! I WAS COERCED BY SOCIAL MORES AND FOLKWAYS--of having sex with at least, oh, maybe somewhere between 4-7 different women, rotating on some weird schedule... it was probably something like the rotating of the shield harmonic frequencies, like on Star Trek. When the Borg come in? (That's what it used to be like when her mother walked into the kitchen. Except for me... I actually loved her, and so resistance was not futile... it was sultry.) Lots of strange interactions with my psychokinetic shielding and a cannibalistic wholy-humanoid holy-native krypto-jew partially -underground dwellin'/squattin' basket of assorted citrus fruits, and while I do not know the technology employed that allowed separate, individuals to some how... fold Space, in order to harvest and share my essence amongst several no doubt eternally thirsty warmaidens, if I did, i wouldn't breathe a fuckin' word to anyone about it, honestly. I don't have any compulsion to break open all the worlds' secrets. Certainly not theirs.
I can see why they must have thought full consumption of my whole self -and- my research corpus would be the only Final Solution available. They're clearly being dominated by an Overwatch Opfor, that sought a PERMANENT END TO THE KUCZI DYANSTY, and decisions about the dispersion of My Self was taken upon themselves by... who? Who?? and... was it... was it done
legally???So, I'm uncertain which absurdist comedy directed by Woody Allen I should sit down and watch while masturbating myself to death with yet. I'm thinking something black & white--not for the gravitas, but to camouflage the undoubtedly floor-to-ceiling-wide massive rolleyes spray, which... oh, damn.
Drat. I almost had it. I was thinking about how long it's been since I dosed myself--it was outrageous, those of you on the (Binkini) pay-per-minute stream probably have the sound clip bookmarked, and by all means, make it a ringtone, by all means, do it with a blessing--and I started imaging the closing of my fist, not into a weapon of violence (pussy FIST), but then, I thought about how I'm really just compensating for something here.
Kinda just want a hug. Or, like, someone I could listen to, for hours. Like maybe, I could take notes? Pretty-pretty, not gonna lie, pretty goddam tired of being in a single, committed relationship with an actual padded cell that's been empty but for cardboard cutouts, in truth, for at least 8 months? 9? I don't don't remember when I saw Prime/Alpha/OmegaSupreme last, but it was a sad time. I don't know if she even knew who she was at the time, she had to go off to some doctor's appointment, and she was cryin', which made little sense to me. Was that the she that went to "counseling" after coming back from Amway City, and was telling a story to them that didn't not once, NOT EVER, include the name "Kuczi"? lol, like, she comes back, she says, "I gotta do all this alone!!!! Get your own counselor, Jack!" then she goes hangs out with a bunch of other people, other friends I've never met and never heard about until I find out that she's being put to tell multiple stories involving multiple locations, participants, and versions of narrative. Then I explain that I have noticed these inconsistencies, and I do that again, out loud, while she's taking a call from psychologist who, suddenly faced with the additional existence of another voice on the phone in the background, "Hi! Oh, Allison has an appointment with you, is that so? Hi, so I was just wondering, Im her boyfriend, she has asserted to me, and her Sourceror Nigger Husband, she asserted to me, and say, hey by the way... DO YOU KNOW HOW TO SPELL MY NAME? WELL DO YOU? DO YOU, DOC? DO YOU FEEL LUCKY? HOW ABOUT WE TRY TO ALL SPELL IT TOGETHER! HEY CHEERLEADER, WHY DON'T YOU START? Oh, I know why, you forgot your pom-poms! Don't worry, I brought you a two (2) sets of spare tool! See, look! I got BOTH (2) colors! (BLUE AND RED) & (ROYAL FUCKING PURPLE)!!!! 5bam5
p.s. (Is this offensive to anyone? I legitimately have no idea. Christ knows, I'm not faking the laughter. Does anybody here remember laughter? I sure do, I remember him laughing at me, and hanging up on me. And I remember like 1.5 weeks later, he's calling up, begging to get her on the phone, and in spite of the irony --delish-- because there is no reason to make any assumptions whatsoever, my appreciation of the nuance is somewhat lacking. But, that's okay. I'm not -in- recovery, I am -out & through0
p.p.s. How come when she was getting fuckin blasted on dope all the time, barely any of you spoke anything against it, but suddenly... supposedly I'm all over it, and have a -real- problem, huh? Yeah... y'all sure abou that one,
Dr. Drew Pinsky-Pinko Commie totesdorbs How Much Are Those Gangstalkers In The Windows? Maybe someone has some time to check.
p.p.p.s.: Yes, this situation was this funny to me the whole time, except for the parts that weren't funny at all. It's interesting to note, that if I had engaged in a liason with another person while she was gone, oh, whatever she did down there, -that- would have been okay, I guess. I don't. There were multiple who went, after all, and I'm not sure if anyone is aware of this, but, sunlight is the best disinfectant. Except maybe for bleach on an open wound suddenly teeming with insta-grow flesh-eating bugs boiling out of her flesh from the etheric plane. I hear that worked pretty well. We called the scar:
The Eye Of Sauron.
I thought: "Hrm, that's strange. Grapefruit never engages in risky IV recreational psychoactive substance use when I'm around. Maybe there's something going on here that I should do something about. Well, I'm staring right at here; does she really think I'm susceptible to that mindwipe spell she thinks I don't know she can do? Fascinating. Okay, I'll just stare blankly until The Fruit of Sauron loses interest in me as a potential threat, and goes back to thinking I have no idea that she is as gay as a blue ribbon winner in the Gayest Day In May, Some Day That's Pretty Gay Parade, when, of course, wow, is she really gonna just expect me to call her out on these obvious red flags? Well, that seem insensitive. I'll just remain neutral and remain in a place of non-action and quiet, calm, acceptance of things that I cannot change... and wait for the moment to prime The Heir Strike."
I would like to point out: I -did- ensure that she stayed alive. At least I think so. There's only so much I can do while being ruthlessly cut off from all lines of communication with absolutely everyone I know, and thats' not veyr many, but, oh well! This is quite the adventure. Besides! Wow! Look at that body! Walking away like she actually, really did just wipe my memory of what we just saw! Huh! These shields are pretty impressive. I bet these are gonna come in handy a lot more often from now on... since I have obviously just been given a demonstration of significant potency and righteous power. Hey, should I tell the whole rest of her family about what I've just learned? Well... I'll consider it.
I think I'm done considering. Every word of this is true. So, let me ask you this: do I love her? And...
is it legal? haahhah lololol This about cripples me, should I become a Jehovah's Witness or something? I'm confused about which Elder God from the C'Thullu Mythos I need to be concerned about having my soul swallowed by next.
Consider the power of being utterly, and completely happy about absolutely -whatever- decision comes next. That's where I am.
Honestly, not real surprised to learn that the Natives are restless. I wonder, did they run around and mindwipe everyone who knew about I was abused the year before for that cycle? Maybe there was a cascade resonance failure from too many paradoxical pair-of-docs showing up with names like KUCZI and... you know what? I don't even know how much paper there ever really was! I saw one (1) .pdf... numbered pages 1-14 or something... and all but four of them were completely gone, and there was basically nothing of use.
So the whole "fleeing for the hills to reset" and "Jack shut up we need more time to circle the wagons!!!" seems -kinda- sensible, right? But honestly, it's pretty inane to even hold these charges over my head. Honestly, I could be more effective of a human being of my homeworld and a member of local society... if I had perhaps not been spectacularly cast off in a hail Mary noseplant catastrophe, that somehow... I was supposed to have earned for myself. "You're goin to jail, Jack! you refuse to go along with my completely fabricated drama constructs, AND you don't even have the common decency to be angry about it! How dare you! How dare you fail to exhibit any indication that my thuggy biggy piggy blackops extortion family--now with new! new! (old/older) TWO (2) Secret Husbands, Each with New Kung Fu Rot swivel action grip!--has scared you or fooled you or played you for a sucker, for even a single new york hot minute! (Oh hi Anthony, see you at the water cooler tomorrow at 8.1pm, we'll do bumpysticks together.) Jack, stop eavesdropping! How rude! Now, I demand answers. (*stamps feet in coded staccato rhythm meant to signal the bomb package that was installed laparoscopically that is now time to cast out the White Devil, from the scrote blown up on out*) I am not seeing the kind of panick, fear-stricken terror on your face that I have come to expect when I start snarling at you when there are no witness around! I demand cringing! I demand compliance! Are you aware that you are acting like you never ever fell for a single word of my self-deception, and you've just been watching me stride about my environment like a wildly out-of-control relapsing sexual assault victim that thinks she's totally selling it, while everyone around me lets me tottle off to a nightmare, because they think, it'll be worth it because, oh yeah, we're talking that house and all your money! Are you really showing the never to act that way???"
"I am still thinking it over. You know what? Maybe I'm ready for Hillary" How anyone could think I secretly hate anyone here is mystifying ton me. I'm non-judgemental, no vengeful required, she obviously wanted me to pretend like I had -no idea- she was as bisexual (or, whatever) as she wanted to be, and so.. I did! Had a great time, +2, would dedicate life to again... uhm, I think she needs more time in the healing vat, though, and I am still mystified how this UC enforcement
totalretards haven't called me up and started some hot-n-fresh apologies, like, every fuckin' day, from five o'clock in the morning, to seven o'clock at night!
Seriously, does this look like I'm mad? Hell no, I love her right now. I understand she has a lot of egg on her face (hehee) but , you know, that happens in these situations. What am I supposed to be mad about? taking my house? She didn't. Trying to take the house?T that wasn't her, that was her thug goverment pirate criminal thug reprobates. They aren't "Agents."They're cockroaches. This is one of the most revolting and disgusting overreaches of Federal power I've heard of, let alone, lived through.
So. Anyone around here feel like meeting up at the five o'clock free actionable evidence giveaway? Well, forget it: CANCELED. I'm not getting entangled in this boorish nonsense. I know what I did. I know what the law is. I know who did what to who, from what I saw, and I know that, in spite of how awful things were, on the whole, it could have been worse, she signed up for it, and, the thing I regret doing THE MOST...
Was when A_Woman called up during my call with David, the one that got thrown up on Groypers panel, that I was then "blamed" for--oh, really? I was blamed? Sure. Anyway, I knew INSTANTLY
INSTANTLY \o?
who it was. fucking cheer. I didn't really like the yelling, but I figured, this must be for science. And then, yelling, "eff ewe, ALLISON" hahah, well, I figured... you would figure it out. (I was never in a position of more czeyness in my life. Still don't know what happened. But I knew from that moment forward, "oh, well, this is all gonna come out in the wash. Just maintain discipline."
I have great sadness in my heart, for anyone who imagines that I am sitting here, posting away, all day, every damn day, and, what, I'm supposed to be fearful of something? Like, what? The Andromeda Strain? *dismissive hand wanking gestures.*
Look. I'm good. I'm not mad at people who are self-absorbed, brain damaged retards, and I see all of us as being victimized here. That's why, when I see any coordinated effort to look towards me here, I'm like... I bet your pardon?
I'm Clergical Staff. I am here -to help.- This is like those stories about the missionaries who go into jungle tribes, to "convert" (NEVER!) and they end up getting thrown into a pot, and made into soup. Hey, so, guess what? I'm not soup. I'm goulash, if anything. And I have never been mad at all.
These people, all of them, are as peasants. They know almost nothing. But they know.. JACK'S FAULT! I'm not even kidding. They see me, genetical, as a being meant to nourish them, and I am supposed to be willing to sacrifice my life for the good of the Tribe.
And, I have. Now. Anything else I can do? Because there IS this other lady I like quite a bit, and, I'm not gonna lie: I think she's terrified accidentally triggering a land war in east Asia. Yeah, I don't think it's likely either, but... well, anyway. If the coast isn't clear now, I better just start working on a shot-by-shot remake-reboot-reMaid of Homer's
Iliad. Why not?
I've got too much (22!) time on my hands! Maybe I should go plant a tree and an Indian will cry for me for once. Not sure what there is to cry about thought, frankly, as I'm really in a great position in life, except all my friends have been brainwashed into believing I am someone I am not, but since part of that was me in the first place, I don't mind hauling my weight on that. Hhah. "Hauling my weight." HAHAHHHA. I can hardly wait for the flood of -new- documents that suddenly develop-- like a Polaroid! Kodachrome!--and then, look! look at the paper work! it all lines up!
"HE'S THE SPIRITUAL CORRUPTION CO-ORDINATOR! YEAH! HE MADE US DO ALL THAT STUFF TO HIM THAT DIDN'T WORK! HE FORCED US! HE USED THE FORCE ON US! HE USED BOTH (2) FORCES--SKYWALKER RANCH AND SKINWALKER DRESSING!!!" Sure, I'll say it: "You got me."
