Are you taking applications?
What does this even mean? Is it a secret? I'm literally drawing a blank. Is it supposed to make me feel jelly that other people are getting laid, even though they have visible melanin? /SMDH
Let me try to get through to you. You're mostly all sex and drug addicts. Getting high and getting off are very high priority for all of you, on the daily. It gets so you don't even notice it.
I am not addicted or chemically dependent on anything. And for the last several years, I have had a single high priority item: making sure children never forget that Jackstar kept their favorite Auntie alive.
Without ever knowing anything about how I did that. (These little rascals love secrets.) Whether or not my dick is involved is not really important. What is crucial is that the story is one I am proud to tell. Globally.
And make shitloads of money with. Move over, Pocahontas. Step aside, Geronino. Get a job, Sitting Bull. There's a story here.
And it involves watching a bunch of faglords being total dorks while children wonder what happened to Jack. And, who's this new guy? Fast forward to now: the HQ of The Hashishim goes up in smoke and no one really knows a goddam thing.
So: is a big black dick on my face some kind of trophy flair? I'll allow it. I guess. In the meantime, maybe have a little respect for yourselves, Punyling whack-job proletariat scum. Because your chat logs are not really going to age well.
Do I look like I need constant heckling? Good. That's the training.
And I don't know how many of you have extra lettuce, but you really don't have to be such misers. Most of you have buckets of scratch and have watched me get ransacked for years. What, exactly, do any of you imagine me to be deficient in, besides shame? It's like you're trying to starve a cold and feed jungle fever — on ice.
Not that it's all that desperate, it just seems weird. Also, The Conservator is a total assclown. Conserves nothing. Wasres everything. Incoming scandal en route IMHO.
I told you: what we have planned is going to blow your minds. So there. 🛡️😇
p.s.: I cannot imagine that the toolbox who hasn't bothered to talk to me in over five years while knocking boots with some battleaxe stealing my money to fund
La Reqonquista is gonna be a top-tier ticket for me. I'm pretty goddam far from relaxing with light comedy, Teetotaling Tam. (Everclear notwithstanding.) Post a transcript or buy me a condo or pretend you've accomplished anything I'm going to be enthusiastic about.
p.p.s.·. Three (3) years and then suddenly there's a criminal policy change that is still being concealed from me. Take your ways and means and shove them where the sun does not shine. Especially as my personal property, including proprietary divinatory technology and fancy Tarot cards and my boots, my kilt, my backpack, my Altec Lansing Bluetooth®™ Wireless Speaker (equipped with Spookμbnaught CIA software mods, allegedly), and as many kinds of crystal–·sh substances and at least two different strains of absolutely killer weed HAVE NOT BEEN RETURNED TO ME. Wise up you cryptofascist pigs: just because you didn't feel like following the law that day, is no reason to conclude that I'm merely shit out of luck with no recourse just because you said so.
p.p.p.s.·. Exactly who made any of you either that elite or that dimwitted? I actually needed that stuff. And so did you, is that it? Fantastic, absolutely fascinating. Just grab and go and never a look back, right. Sure. As if you're doing me a favor. Let me explain how self-defense works as a Citizen up against Colonel Kurtz, Gary Oldman from Leon, and your rag-tag gang of lesbeaux hoorz.
I get to entrap you all, and you all get to be held accountable at a military tribunal and/or you get to look abysmally stupid. Because of course you're all about the lesson teaching. Except, you're not
You're all about the vaguely plausible justification to steal things, even when there is literally no inventory to do so. I was detained in Buckley one night, and the officer goes through my wallet, finds a bunch of cash, and pockets it with a grunt of a comment. “You're going to lose this,” well since I pulled it out of the goddam ATM as bait, Smokey Papa Bear, I am not surprised. I have come to learn that is simply... how MethPigs™ operate.
Like for real. Now, let me run this by all of you. Was that supposed to shuw me who is in command, or, was it just supposed to inconvenience me? Did it? Did it really? Because demonstrating corrupt behavior was basically my
modus operandi this entire time. Without being at all obvious about it.
Note that I do not mention this as a prelude to a demand for the return of anything. It's not as important as getting your attention here:
this is flagrantly illegal behavior, while mine is lawful to the best of my knowledge. Let that sink in.
I know you unfathomably dense copefags don't see it that way. Imagine if you were wrong. What would that mean? Oh and btw: my friend is once again devolved into max apex narcissism, not too big a deal, but an easy consequence to avoid for anyone who doesn't want to wildly exploit her vulnerabilities. LIKE YOU'VE BEEN DOING FOR TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. (>Kudos.) Has it occurred to any of you that this is an unwise pattern to allow a limitless recurrence of? I suppose if it has, you all simply blame me.
Except I've never given that woman ever so much as an ice chip. Not once. Not a single time. Believe it or not. (I was ordered not to. Easy. Simple. Provable by a simple follicle test.) What this means is that you're all basically
totesfucked on several legal axes. Without being at all obvious about it.
This is true whether you steal all my money and leave me without food and water or not. Seriously. PEOPLE >KNOW. Depriving me of my property, my freedom, my civil rights, changes NOTHING.
I don't need you twerps arrested. I don't need you to change your behavior. I need my goddam equipment back. The baitload, I literally don't give a fuck at all. That can be obtained basically anywhere by adults who aren't WORKING ON THE JOB WHILE BADGED AND STRAPPED, YOU WHACK-JOB LOONS. And why hold everything else and thoroughly destroy my plans? Well, I guess someone wasn't thinking clearly... and had ABSOLUTELY NO PROBABLE, NOR FIRST CAUSE. Not that I care about that. Run a fire drill and a train for all I care.
What disappoints me is your mass delusion: open season on Citizens who actually are obeying the law. YOU ARE CAUGHT. None of you gave a shit. Grab and go, along with a bunch of sneering jibes. Just exactly how fucking high are you assholes?
And if all of you can funnel crystal to my friend, but I can't, exactly what does that signify, does her medical care team know this, how the good goddam has this kind of thing been going on, and how exactly am I supposed to be the one lone person held to account for this extended pooch screw?
Answer me later. Get a team together, gather up my property, and delivery it to me on the double, dipwits dick bangers. Because seriously, you have nothing better to do, it'll look good to any future historians, or your judge, and I literally need my boots. I need that backpack I NEED ALL OF IT.
AND!
YOU!
NEEDED!
A! DRUG! MULE! I doubt it could be any more obvious. Now, pretty please, with sugar on top, get your asses to Medical and stop hurting my friends. I am sure they would love to talk to me, especially without you absolutely legendary faggots listening, because I am eager to explain exactly how it came to be that I get to, but they don't, but maybe later, and in the meantime: do what your mommy tells you and stop quarrelling with your siblings.
Because I am not to be trifled with. THREE (3) YEARS. Did you have a nice time? Did you have a good session? Was it more fun to be outlaw (and thus, an extortion vulnerability) than it would have been to.. follow the law? I honestly don't have any idea. Fortunately, we have people for that.
Personally I think six (6) years separation is a bit much but I yield happily to Command Authority on this issue. (Your bosses are all relieved of the burden of your best bearing: REPORT TO THE MATRIARCH AT ONCE.) All this is your area.
I want my goddam magic divination quarters back; I'm going to buy hard craft cider with them. Or, black tar heroin. IT DON'T MATTER WHAT. IT'S MY PROPERTY, TJ ISLAND HOOKER.
AND YOU CAN BET YOUR WHITEBOI ASS I AM MAKING A FEDERAL CASE OUT IF IT. “You're not in control of the situation with my proprietary divination technology and work-in-progess inventions. IDGAF what my shit looks like to you. IT'S MY SHIT. That means you don't just rummage around like it's your goddam Christmas stocking. It means... SON, THIS WAS BAIT.
ENTRAPMENT IS SELF-DEFENSE FOR ME
AND THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A MASSIVE HEADACHE FOR MOST OF YOU.
I'm pretty fucking far past dialing 911 or moaning over my dick. THIS IS MAJOR LEGAL PRECEDENT BEING MADE RIGHT BEFORE YOUR EYES. Without being at all obvious about it.
(Vengeance for Babs Smith.) I bet you thought I was going to ruin every birthday. HA!
Now as I assume you're all going to CIRCLE THE WAGONS and behave like whiny little bī-b¡†ches, again, I don't really think you're going to bring me my stuff back. Nevertheless, you damn well should.
I NEED CLEAN CLOTHES.
I NEED A BATH.
I NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION.
I NEED NUTRITIONAL SUPPLEMENTS.
I NEED GROUND RAW BISON MEAT.
AND I NEED GALLONS OF GODDAM MUSTARD.
What I don't need is some bat-shit crazy klepto jarhead hoor whining about sending me to jail again. Figure it out, candid candy teats: you're being put through your paces. I'm sure you're real persuasive to the lifer crowd under the boardwalk, but this is an altogether different dance number.
Because this is your life now: a living Hell. I get to. You don't. We are not the same.
NINETY (90) DAYS COOL DOWN IN THE BOUNCY HOUSE WITH THE SKELETON OF BOB CRANE. Do you think I'm fucking with you? I am not fucking with you. (*stamps, gavels*) Pending Matriarch command authority approval. I think she'll see it my way.
And if any of those faggit dickbreath ersatz Monarch Controllers want to argue, they can talk to the JAG and arrange for a tribunal to convene. I am dead stroke serious. (Dear D. Semple: get ready to tickle the Vampyr Vegan’s balls as a distraction while those twin boulders get airlifted to Du Pont, or thereabouts. Most of this is speculation.
This is how the law works. I have privileges, that I earned. So did you, and some of you abused them. You're fucked, Bellgab.
Without being at all obvious about it.
r₹∆vvvvvvvvvvr!
