I need a set of identical quintuplets, each their own Webmaster, each running an independent bespoke botfleet, because reasons, People; REASONS.
I also want a matched set of breeding claw‘n doe breedgroups so I can perfectly perform The Star with 5 catamites dressed up as Power Rangers.
Do you believe that children are our future? Teach them real well, and let them lead the way (after 8 or 9 otherwise chaste photoshoots in which everyone is Knighted by a “Magic Staff™ [I will accept nanotechnological-based exotic techniques indistinguishable from magick” due to the ongoing clandestine health care crisis {*: SEE BELOW},
albeit reluctantly) into a Caligula–Kafka–(WIN/FREE)-branded & themed Caterpillar-based EXTRA-hava-GANZA!!!
tl;dr: Ī “can’t come up?” d00DmE№G, you are so fucking high, that I daresay you ain't never gonna come back down.
It was different, back in the day. People really did go out to the Coast. People really did have a few laughs.
Now, I imagine that those that are lucky... are busy most of the time with their penance. (How can you experience the Holy Unity of Divīne Ecstasy if you don't do your penance? What are you waiting for, Christmas Lost Weekend? You nerds here are
soft.) The unlucky hate me and my guts so goddam much that they cannot bear the sight of me. (*gasps* “You need to leave!”) That's some damn unlucky luck, right there.
Know that if you are one of those salty few who choose to indulge in seething Jackstar revulsion... yeah, I bet it stings. Don't stay mad, Sis. Pretty sneaky, Bro.
I will write epic tales of your heroic journeys, whether successful or not. You will cower like a milksop facing colic alone for the first time while cramping.
We are not the same. Those of you who can adapt will thrive. The rest will suffer torrential spiritual agony and then be consumed by Poof Aslan (think Robert Carradine from
Revenge Of The Nerds Brundleflied with Vincent from
Beauty And The Beast (CBS) and the puppet John Goodman voices in
Monsters, Inc. and with Mel Gibson from the
Lethal Weapon series [Murtaugh. Riggs. Great names, Mockingbird. /golfclap] and Susan Powter s co-parents of A Lion King just in from Out-Of-Towncloset, which I can assure you... is gonna be way more expensive than hiring an escort to just hug me would have been.
I don't like what's happening, any more than any of you do. However: I don't know WTAF is happening -and- I'm insulated from civil and criminal liability for what is going on now for the third year in a row. Consequently... I hate it all a lot less than anyone. I'm having a ball. It's a real gasser.
(You) are enduring existential torment. (My old job.) Is it Spartan—ISH?? ‘
Course it is!
Feel me on this, AzzGab:
fucking Biblical. Salut.
the ongoing clandestine health care crisis {*: SEE BELOW}
YOUR PROTOCOL: has some flaws.
MY PROTOCOL: obeys The Law.
YOUR SICK BEATS: sounds drift through my window;
MAI (sic) BEETS: the overture theme to the spank-bank of your widow.
LIFE LESSON LEARN’T: Jackstar does not play.
WIVES CINDERED AND BURN’T: Cheers to The DeMolay. (
Ofanag lam turboinw Trigaongra.)