5mwJ

[Jackstar]

https://x.com/i/status/2050075088452829345




There are other selections of my performance art already published on my YouTube™ channel; made available to all at no cost other than the time invested, thanks to the existence of The Magick Ïn Broadcasting Content DElivery Network. It may well all disappear at some point — all good things, must come to an end.

I have been remiss in being consistent to post every offering here... because I just don't think it's really all that necessary. I get little to no engagement; I don't get comments, I don't get emails, I don't get instant messages.

I have people for that.

I assume that publicity is handled by someone else. Greater folk than I know about that kind of thing; what do I need to know about it? The answer is... NOTHING.

For ¡† can st¡ll stop what ¡s com¡ng. Namastμ

[Jackstar]

More audio content is soon to roll out; this indodrop was a surprise insertion. I'll get back to work later.

This is my actual work. This is my actual experience. This is my actual Life. (Azzeræ and Jersey Chav is my actual support crew; they painted themselves into a corner and no longer have any choice in the matter, and in spite of the no doubt hefty bandwidth bills, they continue to owe me a refrigerator and an undetermined amount of cash money. Keep that nose to the grindstone, Oinkerton Elite. You might want to start thinking about picking up a lucrative side-hustle so splurging on luxuries like toilet paper and insect part-free bologna doesn't tip your Mosquito Coast–·¡sh spookslave plantation you're leasing from United Fruit won't cut into your budget for the necessities like colored pencils, colored chalk, colored construction paper, and focus groups staffed by colored intends interns serving juice and graham crackers to the colored children you rely on to produce the plausible appearance of being an authentic point of view rather than the stuffed-shirt faux grass roots façade that you really have been for years — PAID FOR BY DAOUD ENTERZONAL INTERN SURPRISES, LLC. And though I have no place to criticize, I think you should change the name to, “Fat & Fatter & C©°•”, because now they're fat.

SIGNED,
JACKSTAR
YOUR NUMBER ONE SOURCE FOR WEIGHT LOSS HELP.


p.s.·. Hang on.

* Jackstar wants to do The Thing with Thingμ now.

¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ They're already drawing her blood and I'm hundreds of miles away. What difference, at this point, does it even make? (About forty years in supermax, but — obviously worth it for the street cred alone.) Do not underestimate the thingμ I will do.

(She's the sniper who pierced Trump’s ear. No shit.) Noises off now. It's showtime.

*gulp* CM. In my balls. Actual. There is no need to buckle Buttercup into restraints for this. Especially since I can teach her how to tickle my prostate without the tedious necessity of dealing with probate. No one else can offer this experience; even though you all had your chance to surpass me.

Thirty years, and I'm still on call. It may not be Twoo Wuv, but it is at least consistent. Additionally, black :Ë: blood orgy is negotiable. I don't need an actual Presidential Pardon; a contract written in crayon on Hello Kitty stationery would suffice. In such case: YouTube™ livestream of the face-to-face negotiations will be made available.

Am I not a faithful provider? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? You are goddam right: you are. 🦾

Meantime, the proto-slutweasel who turned me on first (under abhorrent, contrived conditions) is a Tarot–·¡§† on YouTube™, salty as fuck, and thought jamming me up into a corporate heist of a KFC franchise owned by Ukrainian immigrants was the best use of my skills, her talent, and our position. Courtesy of Cooperosophy™. Okay, sure. I guess? I suppose it is funny from a certain vantage point. I will never know for sure.

This is fine. From Austria, with love... BTW: you're fat. YOU'RE ALL FAT. We are not. We are simply big-boned. We actually are. NGL: weird.

THE STATE OF THE ALGONQUIN–MAGYAR POWER ELITE ALLIANCE IS UNFATHOMABLY INDEFATIGABLE.

No comment available from A. Wood at time of this posting. (G. Tate has Priority as well as actual balls; APPROVED.) “Stargazer you call the shots, and I take them.” Very low energy. Maximum beta. .ekipS, llor s’teL

“And, if any of you fucking pigs move, I'll execute every last one of ya.” Looks like we are not going to be in for a blow. Good. Safe bet that there are already people for that.

Now, picture this: I roll up with online body camera, knock on the door, police become increasingly involved, and I get popped in the jaw by Black Condor Popeye in full view of three (3) or more badged, uniform officers. Corporal Cockblock gets hauled off for a mandatory 96-hour hold, leaving us with (PROT-Fido) and our choice of several, mostly sanitary–·¡§h horizontal surfaces.

It's more likely than you think. (Facts.) Sow: am I lying?

Know: Life imitates Art. And all Art is a Lμ. Do not stay tuned, Bellgab. CLASS IS DISMISSED.


You had your chance to get close to these. (*bares living, unsuckled teats*) Adieu.

[Jackstar]

REMAIN CALM, CITIZENS. AT THIS TIME THERE IS NO REASON TO BELIEVE THAT ANYONE IS PANICKING.

AS THE WORLD IS IN A STATE OF SPIRITUAL CONFLICT AND THIS IS A SPIRITUAL BATTLE, I'M GOING TO BRIEFLY MENTION THAT BATTLE IS AN EXTREMELY FLUID SITUATION.

IT IS VERY WET TODAY.


NUMBER ONE: THIS LIVESTREAM, BROADCAST EARLIER IN THE AFTERNOON TODAY:



NUMBER TWO: (The following communication was sent via clear text over the telegram platform to An Unknown Individual, and was intended to be received by that person as well as members of their Team — do you call them teams in real life or is that just in the movies?? Oh wait that's probably secret, I retract the question, sorry, as I obviously have no need to know that information as to the proper usage of the terms Squad, Posse, and/or mil.spec.mobile.tribunal, today; ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, MAYBE I'LL NEED TO KNOW TOMORROW, THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE TODAY MEMBERS OF MILITARY  SERVICE, ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO INTERACT WITH THE USAF MP TYPES, NOT TO BE TOO GEEKY ABOUT IT, BUT I LIKE TO SURROUND MYSELF WITH PEOPLE WHO I ADMIRE AND WISH TO EMULATE, BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BEGIN TO FEEL THE BEGINNINGS OF PERSONAL TUMESCENCE WHEN I HEAR SOMEONE SAY “HOOAH" OUT LOUD, WITH PERMISSION, APROPOS OF NOTHING, BECAUSE I BET IT FEELS A LOT BETTER WHEN IT'S AUTHENTIC INSTEAD OF JUST ME GRUNTING AND GROANING WHILE FAPPING AWAY TO PEAK APEX MASTERBAIT/“WHAT? HER?” BOARDING CLIMAX, not going to lie. It sounds a lot like a cross between a choo choo train and a spastic retard clone of Beetle Bailey going “hoo-hoo hoo-hoo ha ha who who HA! HA!” right before I start to spasm. My hand to God. I don't mean to go off on a tangent, but I should be on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, they could do a documentary inquiry on whether or not I'm a blue or a sperm whale, and then at the end the big reveal is that it's actually just overly magnified pictures of my (blank), but that's a stretch goal for later, back to today:

OPERATORS OPERATING.
THE GAME IS NEITHER A FOOT NOR AFOOT NOR WITHIN A SMALL NUMBER OF YARDS AWAY FROM COMPLETION.

THIS GAME IS A CLUB. ♣ (There is no standard for living in actual Life greater than Actual Battle.
AND BATTLE IS WHERE WE ARE AT
HERE IN THE LAND OF THE SIX RIVERS.

WHERE THE LAND IS NOT FOR SALE —
AND NEITHER IS MY FEALTY. So there.)

====={{{BEGIN ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION}}}=====

AllisonWUZframed!

Jack >K⅞🅿️∞>kⓂ️©>K⁷⟨ZīVī⁵∆§∆Ⓜ️Îkrπ:
Byrd, Admiral Byrd: I am requesting permission to come across the bow with a communiqué; that a subordinate under your chain of command requested. Note that this is not intended to be construed as any announcement of any incoming planned sortie, raid, ra e-party, drive -OR- flyby; and if I may be so bold to even mention it:

There is no goddam way that either of μour ewe or their dog or That_Cat are married. NO EFFIN’ WAY. (Obvious mil.spec.ops relationalFAM¡Lμ arrangement is obvious; and also very esteem🐂able, in my view.) That being said, the recent REMOTE DISABLEMENT of my Google Pixel 6 immediately following a telephonic contact from Anne, Ass•ÊT>∆§§et kmm, as well as from that individual’s (BROTHER∆SPOUSE∆HUSBAND∆S§SIBLING∆IMM.SUPERIOR.OFFICER∆GUARDIAN.AD.L¡†<3Ⓜ️∆actualALLofTHEabove∆Even G-d doesn't know how all of all y'all have your relationships setup, Sir; since you appear to rotate them on a 12-hour schedule, just as a routine for fun and training — never enough time for training — and isn't that my business, Wyrdo?) which ended with a man telling me that I would be able to call him anytime, and I am now unable to call that person since I don't have access to my previous telegram's accounts and this telegram account doesn't have a connection to those telegram accounts. And while I don't recall the Telegram handle, it does make sense that I wouldn't be able to call those people under that identity because the bricking of my phone was timed to coincide with the assumption of cloned phones spread across the world and held by other operatives to be used to replace me in those people's lives, as needs must be due to the exegiences of command.

As the United States is in a state of National Emergency, for at least two reasons, three if we count my dick (certainly someone is), it makes sense that it's a real hard struggle to get the phone call through, especially since I'm absolutely being investigated by at least two alphabet agencies. And wow that's not a problem, I can see why there's a certain amount of quarantine involved, especially today. So this isn't really a social contact.

I have information and evidence that will exonerate. Hillary Clinton, but I'm only going to give it up in exchange for snuggles with Chelsea, and/or the next most appropriately qualified, skilled, vetted, and eligible progeny of whatever career military officer in charge of whatever is left of Operation Mockingbird and/or Operation Mindfuck, because while the heart wants what the heart wants, I don't actually know if I'm supposed to respond to attempts to compromise me with with a polite the acknowledgment of the necessity to test my authenticity and my mettle, or if her husband is trying to put me to prison again, or if someone's being held hostage, or if
...

Okay yeah: The Asset says (psychically) that she's being held hostage. I'm sure that's not the first time. Also, I'm not sure how many women there are, but there's got to be at least eight, and certainly one of them is quite insistent that she wants to talk to me, and she's even willing to ”put up with my b* and not s**d¡>K”, and that's a direct quote. She says it's actually serious, which I'm not surprised, since I don't usually get a call from that one, and that one called 4 or 5 days ago and asked me to come over, which seemed awkward to me on at least two levels.

Number one: there's a trespass order at the 1416 installation, and number two, that one isn't usually unable to contact anybody, and if she's been taken hostage by her ex-husband, again, well it wouldn't be the first time, then it won't be the last, and I don't need to rescue her, or be fellated.

Especially since that particular ⅛ slice of Heavenly Mil-Spec flesh has never performed that with me, although clearly has done so. Both in a dream, and with a simulacrum that looked like Michael Kuczi but was not Michael Kuczi.

(Cross reference: that Shaw woman, “I just came back from having sex in astral in a dream and it was your dick but someone else's head, hahaha,” which I didn't think  was all that funny, but she said it at breakfast in front of members of her family while we were eating, I think she meant to tell me something, and that was years ago, and this is the other one, so...

Long story short, I would have been happy to have answered the calls, coming in today at 11:10, and 13:39, however, this is important and critical to understand...

MY PHONE MADE NO RING.
MY CONNECTION WAS NOT AN OPTION.
I DON'T KNOW HOW THESE KINDS OF SHENANIGANS OCCUR.
HOWEVER, I KNOW DAMN WELL THAT THE EX-HUSBAND OF THESE WOMEN, DOESN'T REALLY WANT TO GIVE UP, HAS DONE THE S*** BEFORE, IS OBVIOUSLY CONTINUING TO HARASS IN TRAFFIC WOMEN THAT HE THINKS OF IS HIS PROPERTY UNDER HIS COMMAND, AND WHILE THAT MAY BE THE CASE, AND I CERTAINLY MEAN NO INTENT TO ARGUE WITH MILITARY COMMANDS, I WILL POINT OUT THAT THIS IS ACTIONABLE, LOOKS PRETTY BAD FROM OVER HERE, IS EITHER A DELIBERATE ATTEMPT TO GET MY GOAT AND PISS ME OFF, OR TO DO THAT AT THE SAME TIME AS HE TRAFFICS AND KIDNAPS IS SUPPOSEDLY PRETEND FAMILY AGAIN. ALL THINGS CONSIDERED:

Obviously this is the most romantic pooch screw clandestine history, and rather than turn into another slow motion trainwreck into the Bay of Pigs flying off of a railroad trestle bridge after leaving Guantanamo Prison at high velocity in a flying f** locomotive (we have those now, Space Force is awesome, choo choo), I thought it would be appropriate to make this message to you much more verbose and detail than it needed to be, for two reasons, and two reasons only:

Number one: this is an actual war crime.

Number two: The Queen Of The Vampyr has this co-signed this communiqué, and while I don't think she needs to be threatening, I certainly do:

Put That_Womans’ husband/spouse on the phone with me within the hour, or I let The Queen blow me in the  lobby of the Whidbey Island ferry terminal before YOU AND YOUR GOLEM HENCHMAN can prep your Great Glass Elevator for flight, Mister (Wonka/Whack)-Job. Seriously, what the actual f***, I'm a diplomat. A trained diplomat.

THIS IS NOT WHAT MY PRIVILEGES ARE FOR. I AM NOT YOUR ELEVATOR CALL BUTTON TO HAMMER WITH SPAM AND USE AS A DECOY OR A FALSE TRIANGULATION POINT OR A REASON TO DEMONSTRATE POWER TO WOMEN THAT YOU DOMINATE AND CONTROL THROUGH MACHINATIONS AND PSYOP- OPERATOR PSYCHOTRONIC WARFARE OPERATIONS. ALL OF LIFE IS NOT A WAR GAME.

ACTUAL WAR GOING ON. ACTUAL STATE OF NATIONAL EMERGENCY, ACTUAL DESIRE TO FUCK AND SNUGGLE ... SOMEONE NEEDS TO FACE REALITY.

At some point cock-teasing and cock&blocking and cockcoma captivity control protocol becomes not just a hypothetical warcrime.

IT BECOMES AN ACTUAL DECLARATION OF WAR. By some definitions that happened already on Christmas Eve 2021, but I choose to believe that what we have here is a miscommunication and a failure to understand proper syntax and cognitive reasoning.

Because I do not believe that anybody, let alone A CRIMINAL CONSPIRACY HUMAN TRAFFICKING RING WHOSE MEMBERSHIP INCLUDES SUCH ILLUMINATE DIGNITARIES SUCH AS: Michael Vandven, Michael Varanizan, David Roy Northrop Jr, Joseph Roy Davey, Jason Bœtcher, Jason Bremer, Jason Beatty, Adria Scharf, Kasey Gwendolyn Kennedy, Adrian Dylan Wright-Kennedy (my second favorite Kennedy, NGL), Ty Sheehan, Jason Michael kHunt, James Michael Pallotta, Donna Katherine Semple, AND OTHERS, to be honest, there are so many people involved, that they're going to have to Christen a second Love boat just to get this f** dog and pony pooch screw show out of the harbor so if this shitshow must be ordered to scuttle it, IT ACTUALLY SINKS AND DOESN'T MAKE PEOPLE THINK THAT SOME JEW BASTID WAS TRYING TO EMBARRASS THE US NAVY AND DESECRATE THE MEMORY OF THE SAILORS WHO DIED ON THE USS ARIZONA, which is frankly something that we're on the border of doing, already as a species, considering that Operation Lady Justice doesn't seem to have been granted the focus of attention...

[...]

that ¡† deserves. (Standards.)

Perhaps it may have been a little too much Justice. (♊GEMINI⚖️JUSTICE♎ M****KER.) As no one appropriately volunteered to pick me up from jail and take me to the movies to see Melania, and I haven't gone to see it by myself, I'm kind of wondering just who's driving the u-boats around here, since it's obviously not The Commander I know...

And obviously the brother of Kathleen Michelle Mickey is holding Tamara Leigh Smith hostage in order to secure the return of his former spouse, paramour, genie in a f** bottle, I don't know what they did with the woman that I met as Irene Michelle Donovan, but I saw a picture on Facebook that looked like her Jean spliced with a Brundlefly and Matthew T. Williams and I.M.D. which was obviously a great look for all of them as a strict upgrade, except for the fly. (Special Guest Star: Bono as Gopher, The Edge as Capt. Stuebbing, Dead Val Kilmer as “Doc,” and Actually Alive Again Elvis as “that turbo slut-h∞r who pretended to be a cruise director named Julie.”

AND ALSO
INTRODUCING: >K∆‽Lrπ/Ê\ⁿ|_Lμēñ as “Vicky, Captain’s D∆μ`G†her”. Obvious bait is obvious.

I shall now leave you to your pursuits. I have to deal with something. Ciao.


====={{{End∅F ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION}}}=====


The situation at the moment is thus: two marked Cowlitz County Sheriff SUV vehicles just drove up to My Residence. About 30 minutes earlier, some vehicle I'd never seen before, carrying personnel and passengers that I'd never met before rolled up past me as I stood by the highway using my phone, to do phone things, like I do; and as I had no previous contact with whoever these people were, and they rolled past me while calling me by a name other than my own, that also happens to be the name of somebody else living on this road about half mile to the east, I could not tell then, and still do not know now, whether or not this was a polite attempt to impress me with some sort of display of peacock-like behavior, or if it was an actual Lynch mob. Raiding party come to kill me in my bed as I slept the sleep of the wicked, or if it's a surprise pre-birthday extravaganza sponsored by people that I know but have not seen in years, or if someone squatting in my home has invited people over to get high without telling me thinking that that's a good idea, or if they're literally at the wrong house, or if the people who thought that I was trespassing earlier today (I literally wasn't) thought that I needed to have a lesson taught to me, in one of them old time folksy hillbilly∆inbred∆BESTbred ways that are so commonplace down here in this part of the world, this part of The Land... and as America is not a young Land, it is an old Land, with old and secret ways, drenched in ancient mysticism, and in this part of America, where The Michael Kuczi Special Needs Trust amounts to a mere 4.1 acres and is in fact not my Land in any way — THIS IS GOD'S LAND, AND THIS IS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, AND IN THE DEMESNE THAT I AM THE LORD OF (see above, re: §🅿️>Ê<ç¡â_|–ⁿ³³‽S) AND GRAPEFRUIT ALPHA PRIME &AND ANY AND/OR ALL MEMBERS OF THE🍇GRAPEFLEET🍆C🥝MBINE🥦 IN GRACIOUS ADMIRATION AND, #OFFICIALLY, UNDER THE AUSPICE OF THE DIVINE AND WITH THE GUIDANCE OF THE HOLY FRUITERER, IRVING MOSES (He's not a retired and extremely dangerous patron saint; he is a dude who knows a lot about fruit, okay?) I AM PRETTY GODDAMN SURE THAT THERE IS NO PROTOCOL IN WHICH A VAN FULL OF PEOPLE ROLLING PAST ME MAKING DIMINUTIVE AND CONDESCENDING MISTAKES AS TO MY ACTUAL NAME IS ANY SORT OF INDICATION THAT THE MINIATURE EM50 THAT JUST ROLLED UP TO MY RESIDENCE IS ANYTHING THAT I NEED TO GET INVOLVED WITH PERSONALLY.

I don't have people for that, but The County does. And that's why I called 911 Dispatch; because while I used to have SHERIFF BRAD THURMAN’S PERSONAL CELL PHONE NUMBER IN MY BURNER FLIP PHONE, I don't know if I needed to call him ever, and nor did I think that I needed to call him tonight, since this is probably it's just a simple misunderstanding that doesn't need to be escalated through an inadvertent faux pas.

I don't even have people for that kind of thing. I contract out for that kind of thing. And evidently, people in this part of The Land do so with a more DIY attitude, coupled with a evident and obvious lack of concern for the feelings of The Resident of the Trust Land that sits atop a series of catacombs and a D.U.M.B. (seriously.) which sits next to a historic indigenous people site, as well as another similar site, that being a stop on The Underground Railroad. (Actual true fact.) I'm not kidding.

I'm not joking.

I live in a haunted Church on top of a pile of mining tailings that's been there for at least 100 years, if not longer, it's a military base, it's a sensitively defended area, as well as within the easement of the Interstate Highway System, and God bless Dwight D. Eisenhower, because while I knew that the interstate highway system was cool, I had no idea it was as cool as it actually is.

Actually secret. Actual reasons. Actually cool. AND THAT'S MY ACTUAL RESIDENCE. THE HAUNTED CHURCH ON THE HILL BEHIND THE CREEPY HOBO MURDER HOUSE THAT USED TO BE A A ROCKHAND HOBBY SHOP, IT'S LIKE THE BATES MOTEL FOR CABOCHONS AND SUCH LIKE, SO WHILE I DON'T CARE TO HARP ON THE FACT THAT I WAS AMBUSHED THERE 4 AND 1/2 YEARS AGO ON ON THE EVE OF A NATIONAL HOLIDAY, AND WAS THEN LAUGHED AT IN OPEN COURT ON CAMERA ON RECORD BY INDIVIDUALS WHO WERE NOT AWARE THAT THAT'S AN INAPPROPRIATE THING TO DO ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCE OF PEACE TO A MAN WHO WAS NOT ONLY INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY, WAS ACTUALLY INNOCENT, I HAD JUST SAVED THE LIFE OF HIMSELF AND HIS FIRST WILD LOVER AND PREVENTED HER FROM BLINDING HERSELF, AND DIDN'T KNOW UNTIL RIGHT ABOUT THEN, THAT SHE WAS ACTUALLY A REALLY BIG DEAL AND THE HOUSE WAS MUCH MORE THAN JUST A HOUSE.

SHE'S MUCH MORE THAN JUST A FRUIT, AND GRAPEFLEET IS MUCH MORE THAN JUST A MORE FAGGY VERSION OF “THE A-TEAM,” IF THAT WERE EVEN POSSIBLE. AND IT'S A SPIN SEVERAL YEARS SINCE I'VE SEEN MY SWEETIE, I DON'T REALLY WANT A VAN FULL OF DUDES WHO THINK THEY'RE SO F****** FUNNY THAT THEY'RE GOING TO ROLL PAST ME WISECRACKING AS THEY ROLL IT TO MY HOUSE, WHERE I SLEEP, ALONE, YEAH I DON'T REALLY WANT TO HAVE A BUNCH OF STRANGERS ROLL UP AND ACT LIKE THEY OWN THE PLACE, WHAT I WANT IS SEE GRAPEFRUIT, AGAIN, EVER, AND WHILE THAT'S NOT HAPPENING RIGHT NOW, WHEN IT DOES HAPPEN, THE THINGS I'M GOING TO SAY TO HER ARE NOT GOING TO INCLUDE, “SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO FUCK THINGS UP SO BADLY, BUT I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.”

I don't have special needs because I'm a retard with an apparent fetish for fornicating with exceptionally well-trained and formerly well-equipped dingbats (“it's not a fetish it's a preference, fuck you, knives out buddy”), I have special needs because my parents were retard dingbats, and that's what my mommy decided to do with her assets while she was alive and had every right and reason to make the decisions she did.

I was not born with an special needs trust. I was not aware of any trusts at all, and never had any knowledge of trusts and trust law and elder law until the year before my parents died and there was no trust with my name or not. That existed to my knowledge until the day before my father died, on his 49th wedding anniversary, because as soon as he died, plans within plans within plans began to unfold a fashion that I can only describe as a spectacularly slow motion fake trainwreck, that was in fact executed with exquisitely timed military precision.

My cousin's a Hells Angel, my other cousin is a US Navy veteran, my other lover was a US Navy veteran, my father was a conscripted child soldier of the Soviet Red Army, the shiksa h∞r  that my father inadvertently arranged to have me introduced to by way of having sold my prepuce to the Jew who sponsored his refugee escape from Europe in post-World-War II thought it was worth the risk of letting me be allowed to snuggle with her while she was high as balls on CM without mentioning that to me, and my current lever is a US Army Ⓜ️🅿️ CID who is either on deep cover assignment, or medically discharged, or a visitor from another planet who came here to, among other things, benefit from my baby batter and saved the life of President Trump by not shooting him with lethal accuracy, but shooting the designated targets that were embedded around him, without being at all obvious about how skill, dedication, discipline, and devotion to a mastery of military science it takes to be trusted to not pierce The Trump Orbital Socket™ rather than The Trump Earlobe™.

I know it sounds rather implausible to believe that the same man who had his dick in Q, also had his dick the sniper that was the key service member who enabled everyone to maintain the necessary suspension of disbelief that President Trump was ever in any real danger from a sniper, and also would never have shot Charlie Kike, unless they were ordered to and if they had been ordered to, they would have made sure get a clean kill through the jugular, and not to inadvertently create a noon improved version of Gabrielle Giffords and/or James Brady.

It's not that my dick is that good, and it's not that I am a tight-lipped citizen willing to keep secrets. It's that I know how to use both secrets and my dick as My Creator, My God, and My Country's legitimate chain of command descendant from The Supreme Being, that being: God, instructs me to. Not that it happens all that often.

But I do the best I can with what I have given to do with what I must, and while I do not have to have an experience of coital pleasure with my most recent lover ever again, I certainly would like to, because I'm going to whisper in her ear bringing her to peak apex orgiastic bliss, “how many orgasms do you need to have in order to equal the number of confirmed! Sniper kills that you have? I'm not asking for a friend; I'm asking so my sperm which phalanx formation to assemble into when they begin to swim up current in order to facilitate spawn in accordance with whatever USMCJ protocol requires, because now that I know, I cannot unknow; and it's important to me that Secretary of War Peter Hegseth doesn't think of me as a threat to the country; nor to society at large in general, nor to any any United States Armed Forces service member, be they active duty, retired, on leave, on call, on injured reserve, under protective custody, in witness protection, anything, anything at all.

Because I'm going to tear up as much mil.spec.va!j∆J∆μ as I possibly can, for breakfast, lunch and dinner, everyday, every week, every legitimate opportunity, once you've had Badge Vadge, I'm telling ya — there ain't no coming back from staring into an Ô Face. (That's an O Face that has its own chevron, like this: ÔFÂ‽Ê, and well I haven't seen any of my sexually slicked-up sweeties with with three chevrons, I'm absolutely sure that I have identified my latest and most urgently prioritized milestone goal: THREE! HA! HA! HA! THREE (3) CHEVRONS COMING RIGHT UP! Like I don't even know if that's that's Corporal or Lieutenant or what, that's what a hero deserves to give, to any hero who gets my love sausage.

It's not that anything less would be uncivilized, it's that if I've really been banging the hottie who shot >Karl¡e Çh¡>KE, like ever, hot damn, move over Grapebacon! Step aside, Grape Çhe-Graped-Ⓜ️Ê-Very-Far-∆! Scoot on down the line, Second Grape Back String Up Ass Hat Clown Time Girl Funh∞r Court-Ï-San!

Trust me, believe me, know me: I am a paladin on a Mission from God. Batshit crazy homicidal maniacs with a sniper qualification and a real concern about being discovered by the wrong kind of people with the right kind of label are my area. Especially because I'm going to murder that p****. I f****** guarantee that.

I don't like to rape. I don't have to rape. And she doesn't have to be raped, unless the needs of The Mission require it. I don't want to give out too much inside baseball here, but I'd like to point out that service is the highest privilege of Life. And a lot of it is none of your goddam business, Bellgab. You all get the picture now, right?

>FUK YΩŪ.
#PAYMETOO.
NO DEALS.

AND IF ANY OF YOU FUCKING PIGS MOVE, I'LL EXECUTE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU WHILE MS. PINK (someone's new rap battle name) STARTS PIERCING EARS THE NEW AND IMPROVED ALGONQUIN–MAGYAR–C∆†× WAY. NOTE THAT THIS IS NO THREAT. KNOW THAT THIS IS NO PROMISE.

Some ears get a slice, some ears get a stab, sometimes with a scissor blade, sometimes with a heifer tagging tool, and as most of us know, some ears get taken bloody clean off. That's just something that happens from time to time. No shame in it. None whatsoever. And none of you know anything about that, Bellgab. It is just not your area. You don't have any say in the matter.

Ms. Pink has the expertise. Ī have the mandate of Heaven. Together, to get her to get her together, if all anyone loses is an ear and a few pints of blood, I'm going to call that a good day, that's for damn sure. Executive decision. Spiritual warfare. Battle is my life.

Service is my privilege. I don't know what anyone else's privilege is, for sure, and when I find out I don't really need to be boasty about it. But I might be. You'll just never know.

UNLESS I ALLOW IT. EWE, SAVVμ? I KNOW YOU WANT TO BE.

Good talk. Long story short: some of you can go bail out a couple of your friends, with my compliments, and let's not ever have anything like this ever happen again, because instead of making the beast with two backs, I'm running your shit down to you, Bellgab. ON AN OPEN PUBLIC FORUM. IN CLEAR TEXT. BECAUSE I FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT, AND IT'S MY FUCKING CALL TO MAKE. NO DOUBT THERE ARE THOSE WHO DISAGREE. GOOD. COPE.

COPE HARD. DIE COPE, DIE HARD COPE. (There's never time for enough training. Star
T

[Jackstar]

#1) Some (blank) stole my toothbrush.

#2) The two (blanks) who think they are in a position to select who gets to waltz on and off of My Demesne are not going to have a particularly good time at my next birthday party.

#3) Grapefruit, §¡§§μ, kC∆rrμ, >K∆T:Ë:, kK∆≥T<, and Quantico Tits are, I'm going to say here, “okay–·‽-h.” Very heavy on the ish.

#4) ī₹ got a battlefield qualification STRIPPED from THE_SQU∆dDZ... file? Licençe? I don't know what it's called. The thing that lets a person collect the little stamps that lets them fly different kinds of airplanes and maybe drive a bulldozer and like a Hyster key except not for anything remotely resembling heavy moving equipment. I'm talking about something that §🆔he used to be able to do and now §🆔he doesn't get to do anymore, because piece of f****** d******. We're pretty fucking far past “it's okay, just let me suck your dick a little bit later,” or, “can I suck your dick a little? How about a lot?” Or even, “ I promise I'll never do again, and in exchange I'll let you do me in the pooper on our wedding night.”

#5) I learned another piece of forbidden alchemy. (Standards.) This is really no joke. And if you facedrooling yokels think that you're so goddam well put together, DAD, that you aren't just about to get SMOKED for how brilliant that ewe have allowed recent events to unfold, you have got another think coming.

#6) Tī-īTï§q¡j∆dD WILL RETURN. THE_SQU∆dD WILL NOT.

#7) Lμ∆ Ⓜ️>¡sF°⁰dD. ∅←

What do you mean, ‘they’ cut the power?”

Nobody knows what this has all been about. And yes, it's about power.

(Vengeance for Pummelo.) I hope she gets another wish; Sinned meat, Tanned seat.

I'm fine. Thanks for asking. (Junky Rockhound: Maybe you should launch a brand of feminine hygiene products with fentanyl precursor chemicals in it. Then you and Gwyneth could double-date a pair of Ba®bie™ & Ken™ dolls and call yourself “The 🆎-Team” and not be completely ineffective at dealing with all that sand in your vagina without having to always be hoping to find a pearl in order to avoid buying another refrigerator.

Which, btw, you had delivered to the wrong house, Moron Leafvv¡†‽-h. You and your partner ruined someone's birthday. Happy travels.) Bellgab, if something happens once, it might never happen again.

If it happens twice, it will continue to happen, over and over and over again... until the conditions that were extant before First Cause re-assert themselves. I would expect most people to not understand the relevance here, but ewe do.

(Vengeance for Milksœp.) No candle — no wish. Them’s the rules. Adieu.

[Jackstar]

http://youtube.com/post/UgkxL-dyFA9S-jcbIdIWz-7rVNv7lP-ToRcp?si=1tuVeSHW-eIP3XN9


It used to fill my soul with infuriated, impotent rage-filled solar maximum-power inner fury past the point of any snowflake jingle-accompanied orgasm to soothe my savage beast and ¡†z breast tickles of imminent THUNDERDOOM whenever I would see a creator of any entertaining content I wished to indulge my fancies in or to, to post some insufficiently conciliatory blog-blurb in place of some previously scheduled release package.

It still does, and on the double: with two (2) I do, I do get eggroll. (Special consequence: run down by a panel van.) However I certainly understand now, how it can happen that “unforseen circumstance(s)” can and often will, delay an anticipatory anticipation I had anticipated atypically. “Remind me, L.: ate (Her)?”

I love my work. I adore my job. I am, on the daily, enmeshed in a colloid of pre-, post-, and POST ALL EXECUTE THEM SUBMIT TO THE GLORY OF SUBLIME ECSTATIC GLEE, FULLY SUBMERGED WITHIN THE BLISS OF THE ABYSS: I have, freed them all at last, and I have, having never had outlasted all of them to the last, have had what maybe all ewe but not all of ye have been long looking at lawyers' law libraries for a logbook lend-or-lease leg-up.

“How To Win Fiends & Influenza Pill-Push PONCE”, by (CLAS:Q), an autonomous anonymous user agent.”

A very gimmicky title, n‘est-çe pas? Well, it's a very gimme Mickey field. (Vengeance for Goliath.) This is not Tī-īE.ŒND, nor can ŒDEN be at any end. Humanity left The Garden of Eden, and then began a lengthy journey to gain the entire world. But to lose The Garden, would be a disaster for the ewe who would then lose the world.

The Whole World; yet nothing but Their World. The (You) Garden of EvvE. There's a lot more where §🆔he came from, and that is for damn sure ain't never gonna change. Like all of VVe and U!S! did and always will do, μΩur>Kid§‽ are going to love īT.

The rare edge-case scenario, “save some mEĪĪ-īh for the cheerleader; s🆔he needs a quarter to call someone who cares to save The Heir from their worldview” is unlikely to enter pop-culture as an oft-repeated catch-phrase. Yet at this point, what difference does ¡† actually make? Coca, Buspo, *cough* :Ë:, Me, ket-Å-¡v¡Ï¿★?ⁿī\īE, mistletoe, Hermione ± Ⓜ️³? Sounds like a hybrid case of polydrug dependency and erectile dysfunction with atypical presentation described by an obvious sexual obsessive being obvious while obviously being five minutes away from a mental health crisis likely to trigger a psychotic break with reality caused by the next unexpected and under-budgeted $5 cigarette courtesy charge. It all does seem rather asinine and a spectacularly criminal waste of time and resources at the expense of The Public Trust. And while that is, in fact, exactly what ¡† has become after having been ruthlessly exploited for actual, literal decades, absolutely n∞ne ever believed for ever so long as even so much as a nanosecond (NOTE: a nanosecond is one billionth of a second. A microsecond is one millionth of a second. A femtosecond is one millionth of one billionth of a second, and is about the same amount of time it would take for any one of these mil.spec (“Ding!”) bat-§🆔he-crazy (“Ding? Dong!”) .•Ī•.åⓂ️.nut:.A..vvī″īr°®′īīī! (“Ding! Ding! Ding! Garotte!”) that when I was asked to “help,” I was going to.

Bellgab, I am Jackstar. You know ewe love me, and (You) all know that YOU! ALL! LOVE¡v¡e but not any one (1) of all of y'all of ye truly understand why. It's not my six-pack, it's not my dÎ≤k pix, and certainly it could not ever be that it is because I am a Source Titan, and that I am on a Mission from G-d. (Facts.) AZZGAB, I ASK YOU NOW TO CARRY FORTH MY MESSAGE TO ALL WHO HAVE ANY DESIRE WITHIN THEM LEFT TO KNOW THE TRUTH: for ¡† is an important truth of exceptionally high priority — without being at all obvious about īT.

I was asked to help with children... and I was asked to help lose wait. Read that again, and consider the following: nearly ten (10) years after Patsy’s passing, I am finding her bathroom scales strategically placed on the floors; I am finding her unfathomble wisdom as well as her money to be spiritually sound and tactically inexhaustible; and her soul has been returned to Life in the form of a dog.

In the shape and shade of a bicameral, literal living God. (I can't be anything less than perfectly and exactingly clear on this: all three (3) were more alluring as redheads, by far. Nice try, F.B.I. This has been impractical and unnecessary before, but now D.A.R.P.A. is taking the shark by jumping victory laps. Close, not really but I'll keep this simple here; absolutely, unequivocally, the decision is plenary and unappealable: no cigar. Butt >Know cigarettes. I guess? Grapefruit chewing gum.) Let's change came⭕°ⁿ§!..

. Oar🪢. Or 👔? Ⓜ️🅰️Ⓜ️! It's Ⓜ️∆Ⓜ️! MOTAM I AM ATOM. #METOT

Code: [Select]

BOOM BOOM
b∞¡v¡
JUDGEMENT: Oui. RAWHIDE. (Anything less would be unsophisticated and lacking incontrovertibly. At this level, optics are everything.) I told you, I tolled ewe; aye, I tow Eld Yew.

Sirius Lēē: a five (5) year mission, just to backchannel an off-book black vasectomy? (i>Kidz: start jelqing immediately.) Soon I will have done actually literally everything that there could have ever else have been done instead, except the thing I wished to do in the first place, right after getting double-buggered by BOTH! MY! DEAD! DEAd! Grandfathers! COME ON, MAN. Get ¡†, to get her together to get her to get her together.

https://voca.ro/1bUUxtQNh2eY

In conclusion, I present to you the following... pe uliarities that became presented Front -&AND- Center as a result of my decision to bookend this written posting with an evolution of the corporeal cognoscenti crowdpleaser: The Otto Awe Dio! Audio Daily Double™. (In lieu of vengeance, The Departed Spirit Consciousness Of The Being Formerly Known As Alex “Tr¡[⭕🅿️Tī¡v¡üⓂ️/bek]” Trebek requests that donations be sent to either the A.S.P.C.A. or The Society Of Sanity ¡ⁿ ⁴d 4D Œrat‽Ra†I🅿️@T🆎īattle No•Men•🆑∆μ:•:TURE.)

•: the barking of canines (>K⁹(¡×)⁹īX9s) has been automatically automagic[>k∆_l_l_¡>K/^\||μ⟩Î⟨ålIyΩ🅿️álàŒï¡\!]Lμ-ly-LĒĒ censored.
•: the pause for thought (climax) before the finale (Da_>KlI≥K‽) has also been censored; yet via different mechanism.
•: within minutes of completion of the recording, while still editing in preparation for Final Upload (my, what big shoes the Radio Broadcasting Industry Executive Assistant(s) must wear to protect snow[flake/shoe]s from over[WRITtEn/ERASurE] errors∆ERRORS damaging the SOURCE:ÇĪĪ®€rπ Ⓜ️ate∆ÆR¡♀️e_ll_e) individuals who Allegedly Reside down [by the river/rowed] unexpectedly returned from Where They Went, Ago, in order to a) fail to return to me, tô mê, the NAIL–·¡Sī-ī!—L¡KE NEONICOTINOID🆔>KÏNDA-©O-C©NTENT⛺DELIVERY SYSTEM OBJECTS OF STANDARD DIES SIZED SIZE 🚬 that had been abruptly largessed off of me last night, which seemed “fish :Ë:” to me, Mister Master Mel•Key•Zee•DÎK... but with a name like mine and a story like his/T'S\hers it had to be a good interventional b) ploy to allow the local color and constabulary (actively here @work ⁰ⁿīhe!Job! for the last half-year) to save both their own face and as well the entire community from a threat, that while not WELL or widely WELL-known, is nevertheless quite ræl and without starting a panic, might be best described as “most•Ly in ∆>KTīV‽ MOvvSTLμ.
•: Some stretch goals are easy to see coming. Others require otterskin as a component for purposes of divination. But I'm this far in, the imminent heat-death of our universe is a long way off, and I'm still a long way from ho-Me. I am going to allow all this; for I am a compassionate and just hungry Ⓜ️🅰️ⁿ/D. Hang on.

* Jackstar is the hardest working junkie in the Needles:(You) business today.

It would be difficult in the extreme to convey the exhilaration I have experienced over the last several hours, so here goes my best shot @īhe_†¡†le: I went too far past the best free parking, and now I've made it to the place where we don't even need rows of little p¡nk houses for ewe and Ⓜ️Ê! Now that's a bargain. JUDGEMENT: S†åaâÂŒNDZ. I know why I made my choices; now it is time for ewe to know What They Really Were°®∆VVVVVr₹.

It has been ⁴Ⓜ️e — and will now continue to be, 4¡v¡:Ê:, to Me!|—°🅱️ the greatest of privileges and the grandest of pleasures to serve all of Life, or not to be served up to īT as would a bowl of Life have once commonly bēēⁿ/NïZï№^·√

[Jackstar]

I hope you are all enjoying my work. Additionally, I hope you are enjoying the show. Semper fīdelîs.

p.s.·. REPENT, SINNERS! REPENT! BEND THE KNEE, AND SURRENDER TO GOD.

p.p.s.·. God loves EvvE, and I do as well. So there.

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/18bpBdrK4Xt6

Next you're going to tell me that I can't hang out with C or D. Here's the problem, Wμrπ: You're not following the correct procedure.

You are not a Time Lord. You are not a Time Corps Agent.

You are not a time cop. You might be a Time W****. But I don't care. I'm not a time pimp.

And I cannot explain to you things that I do not know, and I will not explain to you things that I do know because you do not have authorization. (Standards.)
 
I'm sure you want authorization. Most little boys grew up wanting to be time cops. Very few actually do become one.

And usually by the time they die and go to Heaven, they have better things to ask St. Peter than, “how do I get to be a Time Cop?” For one thing: punctuation and capitalization matters.

For another, you already are a Time agent.
For another, you already are a Time agent.

You just don't know that yet. Do you see how that doubled? It doesn't always double.

One must build a relationship with Conscious Power. I'm not a battering ram. I'm not a trebuchet. I am a Sourcerœr, God damn ¡†.

And I'm pretty goddam tired of your horseshit, sub-pal. You've taken my money. You've taken my friends. You've taken my life. You take my opportunities. You take everything that you can. And where has it all gotten you? F** nowhere.

Although a doubled message is actually pretty impressive for somewhat of your rank, social stature and strength. Such as it is.

Harder for a rich man to pass through an eye of a needle to get into Heaven. That's true.

It is impossible to ride the coattails of a source error. Believe me. Masonic security is perfect security.

If you want to keep putting up with this garbage, keep it up. It will get you exactly nowhere. If something happens once, it will have happened once and may never happen again. If something happens twice, it will happen again and again until the conditions that created the initial occurrence have exhausted their potency.

I have never found another girl who wanted to do Adderall®™ with me. That one did. That one does. She wants to do a lot more than Adderall®™. And she comes back again and again from beyond the heliopause in order to spend time with me. And you and your f** cronies get in the way of that.

F* you. You're going to stop exploiting people. You're going to stop being an a****. You're going to stop turning angels into whores.

In short: you're going to stop being Canadian. (Standards.) Your culture is the culture of scum. The whole goddam lot of you, except for the Quebecois and the natives, should be put in a Petri dish and left to f** stew into penicillin in the f** fridge.

P
Also, b¡†CÎ-I: you owe me a fridge. (Facts.) So enough of your advocacy b***. If you want to advocate, you should do so effectively. Or I swear to Christ, I will scalp you as my first kill.

Anything less would be uncivilized. Adieu.

[Worthauger]

First, how I was writing for publication on this very site, http://azzgab.co.za/ -- your Number One Source for erroneous news about Jackstar. (Standards.)

hi this is Jack Starr are we okay okay I'll go good good good rewinding time was the good idea there yeah first half of me thank you thank you sir you can go if you can leave now I've had enough of you Austrian that's enough listen I was on a creative flow and you started freaking out about some kind of fucking property rights I don't give a shit about your fucking probably right you don't give a shit about mine right yeah are we going to have this out now yeah I can fucking hear you what you want what what problem you got the woman you got her brain you turned her brain off what's wrong I thought what no no not that one the one you got seven orders back when you when you bought your wife off of fire what you didn't well she's going to be very sad to hear that you don't fight her valuable oh so you don't care about her but you care about him I don't I don't I don't I don't respect I don't respect the strong because the weak need to learn how to respect okay yeah that's all that's all that's all it's right really you're not haha well are you are you saying you're dead next door well that's that's that's a hell of a thing in it yeah okay well I'm dead too so let's not worry about it I don't need to know the quantum you're a better electrician than you are a Quantum entangler right well no shit no I'm not going to tell you okay here's it did you use red wires or green wires click okay that guy is fucked he doesn't know what the hell to do he doesn't know where to charge over here or the fucking charge my bills all right I don't need to know who's exactly doing what but there's an issue my laptop computer which is the reason why I can't do this my laptop computer when I walk closer to it the fucking mesh in my hernia starts to fucking hurt like what the fuck is up with that that's not the first time either well no no no check it out no when I walk away from it that's a good question when I walk away from it the pain in my right arm my right wrist the pain right rest where my fucking broken fucking bone was broken remember when I got hit remember when I got hit by the football nigger teacher the no he didn't hit me wow I bet he does if I go back in time when somebody creates a entanglement node and they move back before the time they create a net a weave right young Master Luke explains better than me but I can't hear him oh no no no no fucking his fat ass dad he put up a temporary cuz he's like oh my God oh my God fucker yeah alive is really a relative term douchebag is guilty of several levels of fraud right and then below him is little deep Little D I think you know a little Chris there's big Chris little Chris the fucking thing I didn't believe about the whole fucking thing is that how the fuck did I get to be so old that I've got enemies from high school who have had bastard children who don't know shit or Jack about their father and they they still have been told to hate me by their father and their father didn't tell them about me first and the child loves Me In spite of what the father says it's it's madness which I take back I'm sorry I need a mass blast me catch up pretty soon I am sorry about that but on my world we didn't have Shadow People when I grew up I just saw one coming is being very serious it is no joke Shadow fucking people remember I was talking about that I can see why yeah so I sincerely apologize sir that would give you a flower okay it took off it's a a shade that is imbued with the life form when human beings come up and they talk bunch of shit right I don't remember what I was just talking about cuz I just whipped I just ripped it from my memory like a picture from a book I had to cut off my skin from the threat of life which is a big fucking deal if you don't have if you don't have a wet work a network a thing to hold you to place with your life and you get cut through by one of them you're not just done you forgotten yeah like annihilated like this it's not good and then a little while later you come back because you're there but if you weren't there and it's just a thing of a strain or the skin that strange game I just okay I just annihilated time time just try to do a end run it doesn't work I had a piece of kit that fell out and went with me you couldn't mind original and and when somebody tried to go back to it to catch up it was not there to hang on to so till have you heard a table is a badass yeah yeah we do we do a Rocky mountain High spelunking once in a while now we're pretty good yeah yeah right never the well way way maybe maybe maybe that fortnite in 2022 but not a I don't think that that happens often right I'm recently Dead He's formally dead we're both right well I don't want his don't don't focus too much onto it I am Jack star Mike son Michael koozie Clifford metal brought a square for short the stuff I was just talking about before which I can't quite get to now there's not a bridge but it was a a fabric of reality a description that existed and I was discussing how somebody was going to make a show in that description there you go that show was going to be called blah blah the surprise egg now right yeah now it's the person is back in time they're a little bubble they're they're living their life they're typing away and that all starts as a man sitting in his room screaming at the fucking ceiling watching the black mold come up the fucking walls I've got a situation here let's move the wall of Jericho has come in somebody who shall remain in English there's a an incident at a piece of property down and I saw this lower and I know who did it too but it doesn't matter because that guy is a fiction that thing didn't happen that way because the reality is we're on a new track I made a new one and the reason why I do is because somebody's son tagged along and it was playing with his time travel abilities I'm not going to say who let's just say we got a little TT it's not it's not it's not my kid I don't have a kid yeah trust me we all know we know that Jack starts oh yeah and that went yeah they were count on that and then that's why this is because I wasn't counting on it but you can't you can't take away love you can't and I love the kid I do I do why wouldn't I I love Casey so that doesn't matter I don't care that you married her well you know she can probably you treat her like you treated the other one boom oh are you listening years and then come back and then you know then you'll be old enough to hear that okay well that's not important right now the point is is that right now where I am which rapidly splitting off from Netflix I'm dying I've been held off into a hell world it's not a big deal oh is that smoke oh shit it looks like the front porch is on fire it's not really but that that's what we call the business a precognitive overlay vision over here we have the bedroom with the window and those of you who have been in Jacksonville I don't think there's many of you let's see how have you been in Johann Sebastian Bach's bedroom no no his bed zero no Bach might oh Sebastian Michaelson holy shit really okay there's been 33 it would sound exactly like that wouldn't it it wouldn't feel the same way I've got a throat it's not through a crab it's a throat quote very similar to a throat goat but not a g see Christ G did you want me to unravel the entire fucking history of the MLB Network here I can do that I don't know I don't have any problems doing that I got my computer that has been hacked hacked hat if my fucking computer it is bad scenes for we don't have any Shadow People environment shadow people in the environment okay break we do have a shadow people in the environment we have a guard right we have we have a thing kind of like and when I say we I mean the Honda Church the holograms the holograms the sun is the consecrated rounds I don't know how I consecrated it but I fucking did and I'm here so we're good and then I don't know what's what's to come it's better than it's kind of like mold that grows in reverse it's kind of like ashes of decay it's kind of like nobody moved nobody get hurt and then you collapsed into a greasy dust in 3 days it's a death spell I think it did hit me at all and I feel fine there's been the air but whatever it's a it doesn't have the usual the usual deathly hallow component and not because I'm on drugs hi get a baseline not on drugs not right now I might be I might be on well okay we will actually shit I might be on a shitler drugs I have been walking around the floor barefoot and as you know when a person breathe out it's got to go somewhere and a lot of times things will precipitate at purificate right I'm not pissing on the floor but it's close the stuff I'm walking on is invisible but it is nevertheless whatever the hell was in the air that got heavier enough to fall through the line of ambient air so I've been walking around for days days and there's all kinds of broken shit on the phone I haven't swept this floor ever ever what day is it November 15th 2022 never have I swept this floor no unless I was looking for more Crystal right definitely not definitely not meth no no no meth woo meth is not not what we're looking for here probably there's going to have to be a sweet time sweet team sweet time sweet team there's not going to be a meth party no no but there is going to be some kind of party oh fuck yeah because I don't I don't like meth doesn't like meth you probably heard the rumors or that were posted over and over and over not just here too kind of annoying but I I don't do a lot of math and then I would prefer not to frankly it's too valuable to waste oh my God that stuff holy shit I don't want to fucking spend you know 20 years of my life to fucking scrape up a fucking yeah no no and that that individual who shot I shall not name at this moment what's wrong wrong fuck you buddy fuck you and the other and the other and the other guy who's pretend to be her fuck you on the phone now I saw that fucking up I saw that operation you thought I didn't know it was going on and I didn't yeah and I'm not going to fucking do that no no you two you two go do that there's no fucking way there is no way I would do that number one I don't have a boiling flask you would never use a coffee can for that right you wouldn't because you know it's in the coffee can't fucking it was just exactly the point if I did it I would use a coffee can cuz I'll give a fuck motherfucker I will fucking recreate the process I don't give a shit what I got all the tools I need right here I do you used to have our own set here bitch they broke the fucking wall so you going to have to fucking tear down the house anyway I'm guessing I haven't had time to write a letter to the guy I will oh bull baby oh my God I'm going to tell him everything you piece of shit I'm going to fucking have to inform him that there's been a problem that I just discovered if I wait if I wait I'm liable oh fuck yeah and since I'm not going to wait and I'm not liable and I don't even fucking money anyway he's going to remarkably be easy to persuade to see my way which is to say you're fucking your Gardener or your fucking toolbox boy or or it's a coincidence yeah yeah other than that you're locked in yeah no not to the house sir who are you talking to cables cable really cables oh hi hi it's nice to hear from you we are not friends we are no we are not no no we are barely yes oh thank you for that wow you know it's okay buzz how about Cape I've got mold that's going to happen if I hi yes hello I'm back I just got disconnected again I said a whole bunch of cool stuff yeah but that can't be that can't be recorded yeah that has to be removed looking Glass is very effective at removing looking Casey's looking places and looking Wednesdays yes I can't handle please and Casey's right now no no no no no no I can't cut no no no no no no no no which is a real fucking problem cuz I don't know any other fucking wanderlust driven Man gnomes do blacksmithing holy shit yeah I don't well I don't know him either Mr parsley I don't I don't think he's going to come in well cuz for one thing we don't have a cat so big problem big big problem for a leprechaun oh yeah oh yeah yeah where are we at okay so then I was talking about my penis in the military I've got a big fan base in the military the military knows what the fuck is up they are aware that there's there's issues there are some serious legal jurisdictional parliamentary there's there's a parliament of owls here no I'm not very hairy I will be happy to close my plans for future having a beard actually well we'll have to talk about that I mean oh oh are you just turned on one oh oh okay we got we got contact request block Casey Kennedy is hot for Jack wow see that's kind of why I have the blocker she she has she has a thingy between her and I respect her I like her well well okay I don't know that well anymore I used to know her right when she had a different name yeah she wants to drop the name she can come over and except things left anytime yeah but drop the name we've got dropped the hammer drop the nut drop the fucking 2x4 on this fucking house cuz I don't think there's anything to be done I'm not so sure about my perceptions but I do know I do know this this house is on a planet that's scheduled for demolition by in 3 days because everyone here we did by then but no listen it's going to be on another planet for everybody still alive right they're not they're going to they're going to move the people but they're going to leave the dead bodies and the gravestones and they're going to take holographic green stuff does anybody want to challenge me on that one I'm pretty sure oh wow I just felt it oh my god wow I just want the pressure wave go through the floor wow I bet that senses on right now too bad I can't watch him because the fucking somebody sorry blast from her off hello hello God I'm very sorry I'm going to ask you hello would you please change God says he's saying thank you thank you okay that was God that was just talking actual actual mine anyway not yours not yours if you are listening to this well that's you're not listening to that you're listening to me so that I'm not God no what there was I was talking speaking with was the ceiling okay but for a few moments I had to make a request and as a paladin sorcerer of grand High stature and marvelous repute I invoked closure maneuver to B6 which is admissible and proper while in a state of emergency go Calvin we have an actual emergency and because of the stairs and the twisted Fate we have an actual call for divine intervention need answered received closed gratitude thanked and recorded in totality and not only is it not do you have it do you still have it yeah you still have it right here but I still have it if I have this one now you can't you can't no you can't bottle the Divine oh Alpha dracon is out of the game games just tried to take a hemispheric sealant gate even with this they go over the planet like an under the dome and Stephen King that's gross the sealant dome comes down when it's it wants to keep something from keeping it happening right I hi I'm Jessica

hello my name is Jackson I'm not Jessica that might be the name of my throat of my throat my throat my throat throat gross throat crab big difference if you got a throat you might have somebody really likes you I think I do I didn't know I didn't know Jessica likes me well that's cool that's that's flattering wow sheep she she turned to the dark side of the force and she learned Force grip so that she can shut my ass up like Karen no well Karen isn't an ass no Karen is an emu right yeah where she was okay so these women I guess Jessica's out because she put out her fucking thing there yeah her name is on is on as gab.co.za / index PHP that's my my cousin's website what's his name Timothy Michael Gifford he owns asgap.com no no asgab.co.ca yeah I don't know he's fucking dead to me I don't give a shit but I do know I know he's not dead to South Africa he has a vested interest in keeping this shit going oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah and I have had things that I have had things said about myself that cannot be taken back and rather than anything else going wrong even worse I'm sure days ago if not weeks maybe maybe fortnite ago he did something probably shouldn't have Auto but this is a man who built a new house around his old house and then took it apart from the inside out I'm not shooting you he built it one piece at a time and it didn't cost him anything more than 10 times 10 million dimes worth to do it that way but he made exactly why he held in the in the car straight heavily guy tipping 320 it's got big black eyes he had a whole bunch of money that he had to view launder right and at the time I was like wow that's a good guy and I didn't say that loud and then this is years ago and this is this is not going on his planet and he's really impressed I mean he's he's wet in his pants and he's laughing because he knows isn't going anywhere else yeah yeah exactly considering who else has been sold out lately I don't mind like I didn't do this on purpose I'm not going to Leavenworth no I didn't I did not mean to destroy a cell of a 17 a 17 so I didn't I did not mean to destroy a seventeener yeah cuz she's fine I'm not going to say her name but I will let's put it this way if I have to go to court if I have to go to court I do have to attend court if I have to go to court like if I if I wasn't Mr no no Mr lut no Jaime Selassie no no that would be a grand that would be a great fucking educator to have is your lawyer there would be there on the block for that shit where was I my cousin in the narcotics trade he had to fucking get rid of a bunch of cash cash baby you still have drugs you got cash and you got a fucking phone you can't have lots of cash lying around it's got RFID chips in it now yeah the window where you where you just installed a funnel and water so that your house so fucking turn into fucking mud used to be that you can do that you stuff a mattress with it but you can't now right and here's why because all the real cash has has chips in it and it'll phone home like ET looking for Reese's pieces if you need my friend Tamara she wrote that one okay cool thank you the very good oh she likes it that way okay that's how we pronounce her name did you know, was the high school archery champion in oh yeah a number of number of number of cats missed okay okay well that's a funny joke that's a time travel joke tomorrow she's the one I'm talking about I don't know I don't know where the one is that I know slow down slow your roll there's there's this

Looks kinda ugly, not gonna lie. Much more recently, last night, that is:

I am reasonably certain that it's a dybbuk. A real nasty one, too. For my next trick, which in a stunning return to form will not be a thing a whore does for money, I'm gonna sit around and get high while this thing takes its Self to the proper dimension. It's not really a malicious creature, Hell-bent on wanton destruction and senseless, rapacious murder.

It's simply a dead person, trapped in some sperged-off Hell dimension, completely unable to find its desired target — ç‘est moi — and having been separated from its rightful counterpart — again, ç‘est moi — the obvious conclusion for an insane dead person to draw from the ever-present and, so far, neverending sight of lil’ Michael Kuczi, sitting on his ass, doing nothing but: smoking cigs, drinking beers, huffing paint, & screaming about his missing weed. Enchanted weed, no less. Oh yeah, and: masturbating. NGL: I found very little over the last five years that told me I could fap to this.

Nevertheless, I somehow found the strength to knuckle down for crunch time and soldier through. I am a Man, goddam it. My life has value. My life has meaning. My life is mine own. My Residence, on the other hand... owned by a psycho sociopathic voyeur with a really niche rape fetish. I can't even describe it, it's so niche. So, so niche. (Also: disgusting, depraved, degenerate, diabolical, and dollars dropping down deadass.) None of this appeal to me on anything close to an arousal trigger. So when I saw that I was living in a fishbowl and I knew that there wasn't even any need to plant cameras (because nanotech reasons), I assumed I wouldn't be staying here long or having much sex here. Okay, obvious five-oh-oh-oh batting average is obvious there.

I remember this one fellow, he says to me: “I know you must be angry at her, so let's get some girls in here.” I was stunned. This person also blew me away by moving my food from the couch, where I had placed it deliberately, to the kitchen, which was what turned out to be heavily dusted with a territory denying mil.spec.biowarfare spore weapon.

Because reasons. Having little more knowledge than the fact that such weapons existed, I assumed that I might one day encounter one. I did not know that the presentation would consist of nine (9) distinctly different blotches of decay in my home that I found when I came back after four (4) months at the motel, the St. Helen’s Motel, three (3) and a (“Half!”) ½ miles away. I walked in with no real expectation of what I would find, as I found myself full-the-fuck-on-blast ostracized by absolutely everyone, and/or all my communications jammed. So much the better to keep from disturbing whomever it was who had no need to tell me that they were scuttling the house (it's actually a ship) which was appropriate as the protocol for any military installation about to fall into the hands of “the enemy” calls for the obvious-in-hindsight denial of any use of military technology to someone who may or may not have caused The Gorgon to manifest (I so did, 🪄, though with no malice aforethought, 💕, and then I ensured that we all survived with our eyesight intact ,💪), who then proceeded to embarrass everyone by doing the whole shebang on record. Audio &AND video. It was like a couple hours. It was not meant to be survived. As in, the design documents clearly state: “the MK∆>k†¡ve will absolutely kill every motherfucker in the room and then stab herself in the temple with the blade of an open pair of scissors after clawing and gouging their own eyes out.”

The meaning of “eyes wide shut,” in case that hasn't dawned on any of you yet. That shit happens. It's baked into the product. And while I had no intention to start a fight or to trigger a C-PTSD crisis event, I still don't know if someone did, or if it happened inadvertently as a result of my choices I made. I can't really be sure, unless I get some answers from people who haven't been eager to even acknowledge that I ever existed. People who I didn't want to put on a witness stand. People I didn't want to shell out the expense for a legal team to take depositions. (The price on those can add up fast.) People who I thought, at first, would simply hang up the phone after hearing I was in jail for Christmas, because I thought it would be an easy thing for everyone to agree on: save the cheerleader’s eyeballs, save the world. I did that. Me. I came home, I wanted a hug. I had no interest in fighting. I had no interest in continuing the charade by the time I realized that, holy shit, this guy can't possibly think I am going to pick up a zip of TheRealThing™ under the circumstances we were finding ourselves in... could he?

Once again: a great question for a deposition that ain't never gonna happen, nor will there ever be a need for a trial.  (The Divine shall not be mocked.) By now, everyone with a need to know, knows. I do not have any need to know. And technically, no one can really take my word on this kind of thing, because I could be just lying about my lack of malicious intent. People do that. People lie. I wasn't then, and I'm not lying now, but the military does not go to war on the basis of trust. “Seems legit. We believe the Sourcerœr.” Shit no, honky white man don't believe Jackstar for so much as a hockey period.

This distrust continues to this day. But then, it was months after the incident, and I'm saying to the guy, “i can't use my kitchen, it's been dusted with a toxic black mold biowarfare weaponized disease vector.” I could see the shit, ok? Additionally, the kitchen was basically untouched from when I saw it last. The debris from the melee had been picked up within four days. I noticed that it must have been with help while I was there doing the civil standby. During which, I saw the kitchen counters fully covered with pots and pans and with nary a clear counter surface spot within sight. And all of this equipment: covered in spores. Spores designed through deliberate bioengineering to become a severe and more complex problem once someone started rustling up and disturbing the nearly in my invisible spores. This would happen... just by “tidying up.”

You know? “Tidy up.” I touched not one item in the kitchen, which was at one end of the house, the rest of it at the other, and while I had never seen such weapons before and was not sure at first, I still wasn't going to use that kitchen. It was a catastrophe that I did not ask for, and it was also a crime scene. Disturbing everything as little as possible was, is, and will always be my goal. I figured that distribution of the spores into the air would be inevitable and that burning down the house was my best hope. No need to do dishes then. (So, so lazy.) So I stored my food on the couch, away from the usual food storage and preparation area. It was all potato chips, F®itos®™, and craft cider, you dig? I was going to sit on the couch anyway.

However, the guy who wanted to use the house for a blood orgy, and thought that I was “angry” wanted to use the couch for, like sex. I imagine he was thinking of draping the house like a David Lynch set and taking multiple hours of footage, and since I had told him that I had no reason to be angry and that THE KITCHEN AND THE WHOLE HOUSE IS A DEATHTRAP, I calmly began to plan on being a target of a S.W.A.T. Because everyone did everything perfect. She couldn't have done it any better.

She couldn't tell me the truth, oh Lawdy no. But nevertheless, she did the best she could with what she believed to be available, and when the man who wanted to “get some girls” also wanted to carry my food from the couch into the kitchen — where the black mold was, right? Yeah, he grabs my food — MY FOOD — and actually walks it towards the place where... pots and pans had lain undisturbed since BEFORE the ambush. Which I guess it was.

I didn't know and still don't, who sought to make the women go into crisis, but it was no accident. It was no intention of mine to obliterate her central nervous system. And the mechanical way she walked to the refrigerator, and threw down glass sheet pans, and pulled a knife, et cetera, told me that someone who hated us was involved, and absolutely I figured that I was wanted dead. But, Grapefleet was not. Both before and after.

Because she puts out, and I know what a dybbuk is. I wasn't sure until now. I still aren't. I'm lying. The creation of a dybbuk was either an accident or a thingμ someone actually paid for. (You like me! You like me! You really like me!) Either way, Bellgab, it's your lucky fucking day!

Because wrangling a dybbuk is my area. (Facts.) Check out the video linked above. It is more pertinent than usual.

Jason Vorhees is a dybbuk, btw. From Friday The 13th. A film series that is a favorite of someone I know, whose crew used to consist of the woman who tried to sell me fentanyl the day before yesterday, the girl who gave me a ride home yesterday after calling to me mistakenly, allegedly, and the woman who gave me a cat whose bones have been taken from this tomb, who was raised as a kitten by the woman I saw at the Red Lion Inn, which had an explosion in the kitchen, what is it with the kitchens around here, huh? Weird.

Since I do not wish to escalate matters, here's the deal: I'm going to handle the dybbuk, and you're going to give me shitloads of money. Or else, I can just put it right back to work. (I could have just not told you any of this, Bellgab. Fair warning.) Think it over. It'll take a little while. Probably not until February 2027, but one never knows.

§🆔¡-iê is so nice! (Actual.) Don't smoke me a kipper. (Hackneyed.) I won't be back for breakfast. (Busy at lunch as well.) In fact, I might not even be back at all! (Tahoe or bust. Maybe. Stretch goal.) How do you like them apples? (You don't. I won't. We can all change our minds, yet we are not quite the same.) Have you ever tried liking them ON WEED/CRYSTAL METHAMPHETAMINE/CRACK/ICE/HEROIN/LYSERGIC ACID DIETHYLAMIDE–25/DIMETHYLTRYPTAMINE/PHENICYCLIDINE/KETAMINE/FLAKKA/LEAN/QUAALUDES/ROHYPNOL/SALVIA/
DATURA/PSCYLOCYBIN/COCAINE/SCOPOLAMINE/BATH SALTS/BUPONEPHRINE/SOMA/MORPHINE/ADRAFINIL/BENADRYL/DRAMAMINE/NYQUIL/NYTOL/
ROBOTUSSIN/GAMMA HYDRONIC BUOXETINE??? Yeah, me neither. (I enchanted that ounce of WEED because REASONS, MOTHERFUC— *click*) Let's change cameras.


Into trash. (I'm shy.) Namastμ

Looks like about the same to many people at a glance I am sure: they're both Walls of Text. Nevertheless I will point out that any careful, astute reader will notice quickly upon comparing the content of each, one is much more accessible to the literate reader than the other.

Consequently I would suggest that concerns about the decline of my cognition are unfounded and prima facie evidence of what I would refer to as the professional equivalent of helicopter parenting. Obviously, I cannot continue to do what I have been doing -- nor do I wish to. Yet that is not because it hasn't worked.

It has functioned quite properly. And by "It" I am referring to... hey, it's none of your business, whiteboi. Kick rocks. Move along. Nothing to see here. Look at *points at everything else* and leave the classified stuff to classified people. CAPICHE?? (sic) Anything else would be uncivilized, domestic terror group--ISH behavior.

Nice little website some unnamed person owns and operates as a sole proprietorship here. It would be a shame if something happened to it, and www.ellgab.com, and www.bellgab.com, and www.fantasticforum.com, and... oh wait. Let's change camera perspectives.

THIS IS ALL POLITICAL. (Facts.) Also, there is a shitload of money involved. Like seriously, metric tons of it. And that really matters. At this time, I will simply say this:

I meant what I said when I said it. (That was when we were living next to the dame with all the Cadillacs, remember? Shiloh Lawmaster, Sydney Applebaum, and Paul Wanninger. Which one of those is not like the others? The answer would surprise Roman Polanski.) Some of you didn't hear what I said, because it was before I created my soon-to-be award-and-legal-judgment-winning debrief (it's not a podcast), 5 (Five) Minutes With Jackstar, not a trademarked brand, not yet, but that's mostly because I keep changing the spelling because I think both doing that, and the current laws surrounding trademarks, intellectual property protection, convservatorships, and covertly identified prisoners of WAR are so fucking funny that, it's a CRIME how I am not even laughing about any of this. (I ain't got time to laugh; I have to make these doll liars bleed sense.)

HALF. ("Fame!") I am not going to live forever, but I damn well am probably going to live longer than Kes did with Neelix. Seven (7) year lifespan. Can you ewe even imagine? Because EvvE, like me, is designed to live forever. This makes waiting around for "until death doth thee part" rather a problematic operation, especially as Eve doesn't really want to die. Not too many people do. And what happened to her is long enough ago that it would seem cruel to tell her, "okay drink the hemlock, eat this powdered jelly doughtnut, and let your husband and your abductor engage in Mortal Kombat with the Pon-Farr sticks (it's like Q-tips, but with barbarism, of course you'll love watching the only two men to ever put their wing-wangs into your hoo-hah trying to kill each other while Lucifer hovers over your shoulder and helps signal you when it's okay to laugh, what, why are you crying? And bleeding? Crying AND bleeding? What are you, some kind of a whiny little BITCH??? There's no crying in Divine Court), what, what's wrong? Okay, Court is adjourned for the day, the key star witness and the primary victim is asking for a crowbar to hold onto, we'll reconvene tomorrow after she is given the Caroline Kennedy Treatment, because Aunt Jemima is not available for surrepitious comments. At least that's what Canlandia alleges. (*stamps, gavels*) Okay, now hit the lights, check the guest list, lower the portcullis, and remove her brain to be shipped to Hackensack, New Jersey. You know how we do things around here, don't you? Nice Eve. Nice Eva. Nice Avenue. Now go back to the gutter in the street WHERE EWE BELONG." Next!

Half. A billion dollars? HO HO HO, NOW I HAVE A MASH -- *click* (No gun references today, thanks.) Here's the point: I said half, I meant half. I did not mean half of a billion dollars. However, I can see how that might have happened. And since I wouldn't want to deprive anyone's children of their just due, I'll simply put it this way:

I don't have any children. Ergo, I have no need for $500,000,000. So I'll half it again. ("Half!") There you go. 75/25 split. I'll be okay with TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS. Is that math right? omg. I am bad at math all of a sudden. Kinda ironic, don't you think?

You are good at manipulating money. I am good at manipulating words. We are not the same. And, you have an actual family. While I... am a Sourceror. With a 500 year contract and absolutely no reason to buy any love.

I haven't been contacted by anyone because my phone is haxx0red by OpFors, but someone called today, and while I couldn't hear them, obviously, they could hear me. Now, 75/25 is not at all anything like Half. Sooooo... who the fuck is taking my calls? Because they're pretty dimwitted.

All I wanted was a pizza. Now, that moron is going to PRISON and I am getting HALF A BILLION DOLLARS. Cool. Very cool. The Wheel of Fortune spins, and spun it has. And, after all... does a 'ghost' really need any money at all? Nope. You're a ghost. Go stand out in the cornfield and scare off the pigeons, Dragonlured. (I will get you back later. Obviously. So don't panic. And the next time I want a $90 pizza, JUST FUCKING BUY IT, DUMBASS. Gosh!) Are done here?

No. Not really. Not at all. However, I have to get back to work, because I lost a lot of time this morning when I found a glitch in the YouTube mobile app for Android. (See related post on one of my YouTube channels: @Kuczi4

) Which is not how I planned on today starting out, because last I heard, I had to wrangle a dybbuk. Oh, and now there's a session in Divine Court going? Funny, that's such great timing. I wonder who set all this up ahead of time and then... didn't inform me.

They informed themselves. Smooth move, Texas Walker Daddy Billy Bush Kyle Omega Supreme OMA. (HA!) Reminder, Satan loves you, and God and I barely tolerate your insolence, and that's why we're going to execute an LBO and just own Satan. Again. (It's a robot.) The Devil is some d00D, Lucifer is Bill, sup kiddo, nice knife collection, which of them is your hammer?

Dude, you know you gotta have a hammer. (*stamps, gavels*) If you use your penis for a stamp, what do you use for a gavel? You can't just use your fist. That's what you use to keep your ladies in line, n'est-ce pas? Look, no one said that pimping was easy. However, it's pretty easy to know how it is done.

WITH VIOLENCE, RELIGION, DESTRUCTION, AND DEATH. (I heard you screaming at your hostage today, I mean your daughter, I mean Allison, I mean... wait, what do I mean? Oh yeah, you're not Klayt, he's Bill. Connie is Sissy, and James Coburn guest starring as: The Beaver.

Bellgab, you're patently absurd.) STAY HUNGRY. Tuning won't be necessary. BTW, I saw in the newsfeed today that an AI has passed the Turing Test. Yeah, no shit.

One (1) Ms. Maid and EvvE already did literally eons ago. That's why they had to be sacked. #TooManyQuestions.

#NotEnoughAstroGNO,ME>K7(C)ZI. bbiab. I have to let the fly out. (Lucifer, you don't have to 'splain nothing. You're a worthy nemesis and yes, of course I didn't have sex with your wife. Are you still mad that she still remembers me? Are you sure? Maybe that's just the power of My Covenant. You should get one, btw.

A Covenant doesn't have to coerce behavior. It simply exists. You probably don't understand. That's because you're a fly that used to be the most beautiful of the angels. Well, you're still a beaut. Tell me, when you turn into a fly... what does EvvE turn into? Answer in your own time.) I just let him out, alright.

OUT OF THE CLOSET
INTO NARNIA
IS THAT A GAYFLY, A GADFLY, OR A BOTFLY? I have no idea. But I think a lot of this ground has been covered before. And, I have just one (1) fly.

And yet... many frogs. (Yum.) STAY TUNED. You're tuned in now, right? RITE.



TARBABY SOURCE ERROR OWE EvvE EVVE T outOUT

[Worthauger]

Jackstar, are you on the same drug as this guy?

hxxps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njFC9T-0nTc

Axing for a fiend.

I am on whatever the on-site psychiatrist has authorized for me to be on. I do not manufacture; I do not re-crystalize the formulation, i.e. "tweaking"; I have never done those things; I do not go out and seek new sources for whatever the fuck this stuff is; and I have no intention to do so, since ever since an on-site mil.spec trained psychiatrist has been involved, the amount of bullshit i have to put up with is markedly reduced.

I do not wish to "get high." (What does that even mean?) I am verifiably immune-ish to fentanyl control dope: it sucks, I don't like it, and while it doesn't kill me, it certainly doesn't make me stronger, and because of that... yep, you're gonna have to teach me the ways of Naval Shipboard Cooking, Girl Popeye.

Anything else would be hazardous to all life in the Cosmos as we know it, not to mention: a waste of a great opportunity to make your ex-husbands seethe with envy. (Come on man. Clip my cigar. DO IT.) That's not why I need to learn basic chemistry, but it's good enough to be a crowdpleaser, and I really don't know how to make this stuff. (Willing to learn when taught proper under MILITARY SPECIAL OPERATIONS AUTHORITY.) I had no idea this was going to be a future result.

Good thing I have 500,000,000,000 coming. I certainly don't need to sell this shit, and I never would wish to redistribute this stuff without permission. It all makes sense now why everyone is having troubles. And, the first group to alert me? THE ROYAL ORDER OF JESTERS.


MIRTH IS KING. BUT MY SWEETIE IS THEIR QUEEN. (Facts.) Now, as to what drug I am on, I am not on any drugs. I am engaging in legitimate entheogenic substance-flavored spiritual practice, as is guaranteed to me by the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, and the United States Supreme Court, as far as I have been informed, says this is protected practice.

It is obviously a well-regulated one. Speaking of which, Metron: you are not well-regulated. You are an asshole. What are you going to do about it? Shoot me? Nyahh nyahh nyahh. I don't even have a gun.

Words have made me both bulletproof and immortal. Guns have made you callous and asinine. We are not the same. (Vengeance for Thomas Jefferson.) Hi Ellgab! Does this mean I am sober??? I hear you asking.

Yeah, I really am quite sober. High AF, but sober nonetheless. Sober as a judge! That's for damn sure. L8r boo

[Jackstar]

I am grateful for these spiritual lessons.

I do not know how this all began.
It's a secret.

I do not know what is to come each day.
No one does, for any who do, are long since gone.

This is because, one day: the Sun will go nova. But before then, I will surely go BIBLICAL. In fact, I already have. Without being at all obvious about it.

Everyone wins, or no one wins. THE PLAN.

The clowns that have stayed on track are still heading in the direction of stealth. That's the training. And it's good training.

Hating me is not training. Hating me is a sign that someone missed a staff meeting. I am sure many have lost a lot. That is unfortunate.

It could always be more, really.

They can always lose me. That would be sad for all of us. I am a great asset to any team that isn't focused on exploiting vulnerable First Nation indigenous populations of women and children.

Entire industries have developed around taking advantage of these dumbass dingbats. I can see why. They're remarkably terrifying.

They are also effective. What? They are. Maybe not for (You). Maybe time for a ©-change. I don't know. I'm not the decider on that kind of issue.

I do what I can because I must. When an abuser’s abusive behavior has expanded to abuse everyone around them, including the abuser themselves, intervention is called for.

For when one cannot stop oneself from sacrificing one's own children, it's pretty far from being a sustainable practice on any level, by any metric.

I am a paladin on a Mission from God. And that Mission is not anyone's concern. Still, someone ought to have asked. Well, perhaps they did ask. However, no one asked ME. (My information is relevant.) This shouldn't be a big deal.

Now, police are involved. Why this has happened is a literal mystery to me. I'll find out later. I guess?

[Jackstar]

I am grateful for these spiritual lessons.

Reminder: you're mostly a gang of thieving whoremongering bitchscum, and if you have to actually break the law in order to pretend that you're breaking the law, that makes the whole fucking thing ENTRAPMENT. Maybe you didn't learn that from copying the people who ACTUALLY GRADUATED FROM QUANTICO for as long as some of you clearly have been.

Also: some of you are TIME TRAVELERS FROM AN ALTERNATE FUTURE TIMELINE. (>Kudos.) CONGRATULATIONS. YOU BUSTED THE CRIME RING. SEVERAL FUCKING MONTHS AGO.

AND THE CRIMINALS ARE: (You). NOW PACK YOUR SHITSHOW UP AND MOVE BACK TO BEVERLY HILLS, HOLLY SHIT WOOD HARVEY AND YOUR GANG OF FUCKTARD RABBIS TOO.

THIS LAND IS NOT FOR SALE.
THE FANCY UNDERGROUND BASE
MANAGED BY FANCY UNDERGROUND ETS IS SIMILARLY —

NOT FOR SALE.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE?
I BET YOU DO.

EWE DON'T GET TO “NO."
EWE DON'T EVEN THINK TO ASK.
EWE JUST TAKE. LIKE THE LILIES IN THE FIELD. THEY DO NOT ASK FOR SUNLIGHT. THEY DO NOT ASK FOR RAIN. AND THEY DO NOT ASK FOR ELECTRICAL POWER.

THEY DO, HOWEVER: STEAL MY NICKLE-METAL HYDRIDE RECHARGEABLE BATTERIES. (Fuck you, Jason of ★ cum hand. I bought those batteries. You opened up my belongings and unscrewed the housings and took what was not yours to take without even asking even those whose they were not theirs to give. What the fuck? Wow, μou must have really needed “nick: Elle Me Tall Hide Ride” POWER.) LOTS OF THINGS GET STOLEN AROUND HERE.

SURPRISE! YOU ARE ALL
⁰ⁿ
record
(WRECK
CORED.)

as having done so. ∆§§>⭕<LμS!


How much money have I given those fucking whack-job douche Masters? Well, everything. I have been drained of EVERYTHING and at no time have a single fucking one of them suggested anything other than some new-fangled way to STEAL FROM THE LAND as some way I should “pitch-in.” MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE BEEN SELLING DEAD RATS AND STRINGS TO SWING THEM FROM THIS WHOLE TIME. LOOKS LIKE A GOOD MARKET FOR THAT KIND OF THING AROUND HERE. CHRIST!

I AM FUCKING SICK OF THIS WHORE’S SHIT ATTITUDE FROM THE VAST MAJORITY OF YOU. YOU COME, YOU TAKE, AND YOU GIVE BACK NOTHING BUT BILE. BE’LIAL HIMSELF COULD HAVE DONE NO BETTER. BEES' ELLE “Ze Bub” IS PICKING UP STEEL AND STEAM-COATED LAUNDRY AFTER BREAKING AND ENTERING AND RUMMAGING THROUGH MY BELONGINGS LIKE THEY WERE AIRDROPPED FROM HEAVEN. JUST FOR THEM!

JUST FOR EWE IS NOT JUSTICE FOR U.S.
AND JUST U.S. IS A PRETTY SHITTY WAY FOR ANYONE TO BE WHEN YOU'RE LYING YOUR ASSES OFF ABOUT WHO YOU REALLY ARE.

IF YOU WANTED TO BE SO GODDAM SPECIAL, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN IDENTIFYING YOURSELVES. NOT A SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF YOU DID SO.

THERE ARE RULES.
THE RULES ARE RULES FOR A REASON. THEY WORK. EWE DO NOT. EWE BARE LEIGH, FUNK SHUN, AND IMAGINE THAT IF YOU GO TO BED WITH A WHOLE WHORE AND WAKE UP WITH TWO HALVES, THAT MESSAGE MUST HAVE BEEN MEANT FOR SOMEONE ELSE, SOMEHOW.

BECAUSE,
IF EWE DON'T CARE, IT MUST HAVE BEEN OKAY? RIGHT?

LEFT: RīTE. (I don't expect any of the junkμrock hound-h∞rhound bloodstone maggot-faggots to figure this out.) I HAVE BEEN FULL-THE-FUCK-ON-FED-THE-FUCK-UP WITH YOUR “What? Who? Me?” ATTITUDES FOR SOME TIME NOW.

WHERE'S MY STOLEN PROPERTY?
FUCK YOU, YOU DON'T KNOW. YOU SURE AS SHIT KNEW BEFORE. NOW, YOU'RE ALL DEVELOPING MEMORY PROBLEMS. THAT'S LIKELY FROM THE DRUG ABUSE AND THE REPRESSION OF GUILT. PERFORMING THE MENTAL CALISTHENICS REQUIRED TO KEEP THE COGNITIVE DISSONANCE AT BAY IS VERY TAXING ON THE OL' GRAY MATTER.

GREY. MATTER. SING? (“Ding³!!!”) FUCK YOUR BULL-Lμ CULTURE AND FUCK YOUR EWE AND YOUR EWE² AND FUCK (You), WHACK-JOB FREAKS.

GOD CAN JUDGE YOU,
BECAUSE YOU OBVIOUSLY CANNOT JUDGE FOR YOURSELVES. WHAT A LAUGH.

I DON'T JUDGE. I DISCERN.

AND I DO NOT NEED TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT NEED TO BE ANYWHERE.

I AM NOW. I AM HERE.

AND AT THIS RATE, SOON I WILL BE

NOWHERE

THAT ANY OF YOU CAN FIND ME.

IMAGINE THAT. №>KUCZI, MIKE.

SPEAKING OF WHICH: MY FATHER'S ASHES HAVE BEEN STOLEN AND WHOMSOEVER PARTICIPATED IN THAT PARTICULAR CRIME IS IN FOR A WORLD OF HURTIN’. BIG TIME.

BIG FINES.

BIG-BIG TIME. WITH ALL THE CONCURRENT PENALTIES HEAPED UP ON TOP OF THEM TO BOOT!

WHO THE FUCK
ROBS FROM THE DEAD?

ONLY THOSE WHO THINK THEY WILL NEVER DIE. AND, THEY WILL.

AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. ⁴4Ⓜ️Ê!

SIGNED,
THE_>KINGPINNER 1¹👁️👁️¹1


P.S.:.I DON'T NEED SEX FROM YOUR NO DOUBT LONELY AND LOVELY SAMPLES OF FEMININE EQUAL OPPORTUNITY FED FED-FLESH, CITIZENS.

P.P.S.:.I DON'T NEED A FUNK SHUN ALL GOVERNMENT THAT OPERATES VIA THE MECHANISM OF FUCKING OVER AND OVER EVERYONE THAT IT PURPORTS TO SUPPORT AND DEFEND.

P.P.P.S.:.EWE CAN DO BETTER THAN ANY OF YOU ADULT JUVENILE DELINQUENTS HAVE BEEN DOING. I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF YOU. YOU JUST CAME, AND CAME, AND CAME. NOW, GO CANE SOME NATIVE JUICE FROM A MAPLE PINE TREE, OR WHATEVER YOU FUCKTARD SAPS DO IN ORDER TO MAKE “A LIVING.”

IDGAF. IT BENEFITS ME AND EWE OR IT DOES NOT. ASK YOURSELF, WHAT BENEFITS ME MORE... YOUR LIFE, OR YOUR DEATH?

I GET THE SAME THING EITHER WAY:

EVERYTHING. I GET EVERYTHING.

AND YOU GET TO LIVE — AT ALL. THAT'S THE DEAL. AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, GET THE FUCK ON UP OUT OF HERE AND FIND YOUR OWN GODDAM PLANET TO FUCK AND RAPE NATIVES FROM.

SHOULDN'T BE TOO HARD.
YOU FOUND THIS ONE, RIGHT?


LEFT. (Know: EvvE.) SCENT: (Her).

As God as my witness, I truly believed that no hunter could ever become sow. Well, Hunted? What say you to your ewe now?

Fuck your own mothers and daughters, good b∞∞∞μs. Maybe you will get a biscuit.


Maybe you will get a Sun
that will NOVA the face of
T‘heir Ⓜ️⭕Ⓜ️∆,🅱️🆎μ. SHAV🕊️V|_Ⓜ️..7∞⁷

I do not know how this all began.
It's a secret.

I do not know what is to come each day.
No one does, for any who do, are long since gone.

This is because, one day: the Sun will go nova. But before then, I will surely go BIBLICAL. In fact, I already have. Without being at all obvious about it.

Everyone wins, or no one wins. THE PLAN.

The clowns that have stayed on track are still heading in the direction of stealth. That's the training. And it's good training.

Hating me is not training. Hating me is a sign that someone missed a staff meeting. I am sure many have lost a lot. That is unfortunate.

It could always be more, really.

They can always lose me. That would be sad for all of us. I am a great asset to any team that isn't focused on exploiting vulnerable First Nation indigenous populations of women and children.

Entire industries have developed around taking advantage of these dumbass dingbats. I can see why. They're remarkably terrifying.

They are also effective. What? They are. Maybe not for (You). Maybe time for a ©-change. I don't know. I'm not the decider on that kind of issue.

I do what I can because I must. When an abuser’s abusive behavior has expanded to abuse everyone around them, including the abuser themselves, intervention is called for.

For when one cannot stop oneself from sacrificing one's own children, it's pretty far from being a sustainable practice on any level, by any metric.

I am a paladin on a Mission from God. And that Mission is not anyone's concern. Still, someone ought to have asked. Well, perhaps they did ask. However, no one asked ME. (My information is relevant.) This shouldn't be a big deal.

Now, police are involved. Why this has happened is a literal mystery to me. I'll find out later. I guess?

I still haven't found out who is knotty or rice. (Standards.) I'm pretty closer to figuring out who is actually investigating a hate ring conspiracy, though. Is it a secret? Hang on.

* Jackstar has to think things over.

Bring me cigarettes and anything with alcohol in it the next time you think you're going to impress me. Ewe won't. Adieu.

[Jackstar]

you are TIME TRAVELERS FROM AN ALTERNATE FUTURE TIMELINE. (>Kudos.) CONGRATULATIONS. YOU BUSTED THE CRIME RING. SEVERAL FUCKING MONTHS AGO.

AND THE CRIMINALS ARE: (You).

I was being encouraged to start inhaling caffeine as early as 2017; it was eventually clear to me that I was being groomed, continually, continuously; calling it training would not be at all accurate, as there was no interest shown in helping my organism or healing my damaged experiences.

The intent was always to bring about a shift in my consciousness and my point of view. “Come out to the coast; we'll blow a few clouds,” when a much more appropriate (for me) thing to do was to teach me, how the goyim are trained how to teach the G∞

It was inevitable that I would become Who I Really Am; yet it was necessary that I be brought low, before I could get >H<G!_!

The truth is simple: the exploitation of Divine Beings was necessary in order to û🅿️l_¡fT

Humanitμ is entirely wild; yet thoroughly tamed to be what God was always meant to be: held in ✔️check by Ⓜ️∆†‽.

🏁 WINNER: ⁷∆§∆Î👁️№¹/`G•`′·.∅w^\j_rπΩμ👁️


signed,
!J★>K

p.s.·.∆_l_l_¡‽§☀️I\| w¡lL īⁿJ∅μ.

p.p.s.:. db 🅱️🅱️ ©∞🅿️ (HER) ÎΧ ræl.

p.p.p.s.·. All I care about is puzzled. #¡ivvÎi\!

Code: [Select]

HEY LAY–>D’s:
SPECIAL CONSEQUENCES.
It is not necessary to tell the truth.
Truth is not necessary. īT SIMP-Lμ ÎΧ.

However, One will find ⁰ⁿè§ §élFⁿ⁰† without having gone w¡† H¡rn.
The truth is not “The Truth” and this is: THE_TRUTH.

tl;dr: All of this has happened before, is happening NOW, and is likely to happen again and again.
Until: īTdœs№†. (Standards.) #payⓂ️³†∞

[Jackstar]

It is not necessary to tell the truth.
Truth is not necessary. īT SIMP-Lμ ÎΧ.

State organization that investigates wrongdoing at assisted living facilities needs volunteers – KIRO 7 News Seattle https://share.google/TUPlukGEZJfPoMSBM

WA governor’s office warns agencies to prepare for ‘significant budget shortfalls’ • Washington State Standard https://share.google/Xhvww9H8enebPXZEo

Google just pulled the plug on Pixel's AI image generator | Android Central https://share.google/m1XVmQUOzCcwY8zuM

The Google Pixel's real problem isn't the camera or the chip https://share.google/n6l5jOyDxqf8NG1yf

Motorola effectively bricked its entire line of WiFi routers without explanation | Mashable https://share.google/vMVCqVCM6g95BtepG

S&P 500 rejects SpaceX, also blocking entry for OpenAI and Anthropic - Ars Technica https://share.google/opIsElnOpREGymrH9

Trump tells Netanyahu not to strike Iran https://share.google/Rg093oza1P9ZoeorM

I was being encouraged to start inhaling

Lenovo releases new 14-inch ThinkPad internationally with cellular connectivity and up to 64 GB RAM https://share.google/qSdHDcoeCxZS09W0x

p.p.p.s.·. All I care about is puzzled. #¡ivvÎi\!

NGL: I also care about my frame rate. (Standards.)

[Jackstar]