5mwJ

[Jackstar]

“This person is very much into their thundercunt energy.” Come on man. None of this has to be this difficult, and so... why is it so unfathombly difficult to make a direct connection over an Internet connection... between two planets that are only connected via the wormhole-fed ansible connection that I ACTUALLY designed (that's why I'm a Sourceror) and built to only work when an Access Service Quality Fee is, in fact, paid for (#TANSTAFFL) and was partially STOLEN AS A PROTOTYPE AND PATENT-INFRINGED FROM ONE (1) Orson Scott Card without any permission at all?

Believe me, when that More⁰ⁿ Mormon FAGGīT>H<∆>K gets to his Joseph “Smith-Smythe”-branded, brand DEA dead, heir dead Faux-Heaven for Company Officers That Don't Offer So Well In Men-On-Knight Butt No ©⭕©K§Ω>K Heaven, and finds out that this salty Magyar bastard stole his superpowered Heaven's Gate-LĪkKÎKE Holographic Communicator, FROM ACTUAL HEAVEN, while I was still alive, like holy fuck, how did I do that? How did I do that without getting a college degree?? How could a needle junkie be doing such things? Aren't I just too fat to be able to think that clearly about classified military technology? Yeah, funny story about that.

Number one: I had some help from at least a couple of your ex-husbands, who truly did love you at one point, utterly loathed me, but eventually came around to see my point of view as being the correct one. Because: YOU ARE MINE.

I don't give a single ripe wet shit how many Romulans it took to screw all your lightbulbs. Somehow you were stolen and taken through a time tunnel; and rather than build one myself, that's bullshit. I made them build another one to bring you right back.

I'm not at all lazy.
KNOW THAT I AM BRUTAL.

It's not about stealing my baby batter. It's about power. And with the power to steal actual babies, but still they can't figure out how to parallel park a flying car? At some point the suspension of disbelief breaking down becomes enough of an Allspark to empower the creation of an entire species of Tesseract Consciousnesses. And even at that point... still, no RoboHoor™ available for me? But even Helen Mirren gets one in her swag sack.

Obvious discrimination against the Magyar became obvious then. Ergo: The Austrian cooked up reality; the only way to win a rigged game is to not play; and the only person who could have arranged all this before knowing how much NoFun this would have been, could have been... Charles (Blank) R¡Lμ.

We are time travelers, Punyling™ scum. We do not arrive “on time.”

.Tī¥īVīE.DOES.NOT.FLY.
.FOR.īT.ARRIVES.
.WÏTī-Î.DUST.μ

[Jackstar]

[...] in the Men's Room of The Space Age Rape Station & QuĪK<Ⓜ️art. I CAN DO THAT FOR, BY, AND WITH GOD.

WITH GOD
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

I'm going to go outside now and go live on YouTube™ and whatever career you got left motherfucker, you would best better pray to God that you get to keep it for another couple weeks at least

Hang on.

* Jackstar briefly contemplates which intersection in town is best to stand in the middle of, IV CM in, and pirouette like a tubby ballerina while waiting for S.W.A.T. to come in with the Flying Tackle Troopers™.

While we wait for Albino Bob Ross to finish applying the D A.R.Ē.-cur-elle to his G∞²: &AND,‘FRO, should be any minute now, assuming Pleaidian Slime Lordz actually use units of time measurements that are called “minute,” seriously, if you think Texans have a big ego, you wouldn't believe the ego on these bat-shit crazy Timecorps Hoor-Lordz, who orbit the central solar sun of Alcyone while remaining utterly HYP-KNOW-TYZED by the melodic harmonies created by their fleets of Space Dreidels. Because of course caluculating hyperspace jump coordinates with a mere slide-rule wouldn't be J∞-:Ë: enough.

tl;dr: Hang on. IN THREE (3)!

TWO (ĪĪ)!

WON! (Fuck my mother and hand mⓂ️Ê the T.A.R.D.I.S. keys, you fucking ©⭕©kK§Ω>K (cur). One does not race the Sun without a raise for The Son. (Hail Satan.) I can't go on without my buddy SupaDupaFlĪ.


Shout-outs to: American McGee; Sparrowslain; H.S. Thompson; R.A. Heinlein; and Cher. (Turns out, she's really quite the ‽¡†çh.) What? Ewe can't handle that much inside baseball without someone inventing a way to build a better mousetrap w/included gestation crates. Obviously, I could burn the energy to explain -AND- invent that too. You know: in my spare time. Which I fkn have nothing else but, right? Hang on.

* Jackstar gets high from the pre-gasm energy coming from calling that whore that Grapefruit calls a sister now.

Yes, it's quite a rush. The Algonquin People do not surrender well. Looks like we're having subjugation for supper again. (After they made Jean-Luc sing to Law-⭕❌-Anna Troi (3) in that one episode in which The unfathomable gayness of Patrick Stewart became undeniably obvious, I knew I was going to have to come up with a big finish — and sadly, it's not going to occur on the property of The Magic Castle in Las Vegas, Nevada. Awww, shucks.

No mud, no lotus; no free drinks, no crippling unpaid income tax burden. CHECKMATE.) Q? Q who?

The latest stretch goal is I'm gonna make that pussycat beg to assimilate my bulldog. Because, this is what the fans want to see. (They don't get to.) This is where the money will be made. (... and: it's already spent. On Space Shoes, probably.) Hey. Paul-🅰️.

Everyone wins, or no one wins. A rising tide lifts all boats. Note that I am using the word “BOAT” here.


🅱️ BEST. Sayonara, çlīTvvÎ↓ches!!

[Jackstar]

https://www.youtube.com/live/fn9-D4NqoVk?is=UKeng8lamJu_hBS0


⁴4 Dawn.

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/11fBd4AFqikx


Ohhh,
tell it to my part
my Umpi-Humpi part
even Steven for an old fart
wouldn't be too-too smart

Shock & Awe. I hear it is quite slimming. C,‘est formidable, c,‘est non??

Cock eye saw. Can there ever be another more effective Shaw? (The answer is classified.) By the way, I'm voting yes on the merger application. GINGERBUTTER BUSKBREAD CUT-KITS. HERE WE GO!


And I don't want to put or too much shine on this apple, because I really don't want anybody to feel threatened, certainly not any Federal agents, but you should know something about how a pacifist Sourcerœr handles violent rape: by the time you notice it's already happened, it's been done with your own dick, and you're about to have it with your corn flakes. Look sharp, Company B0i.

And as a courtesy, you don't need to stand by and prepare to be boarded. You don't need to do anything at all. Nobody's getting boarded.

Worst case scenario: you're going to get made into cheese. (One of them real stanky kinds, too.) That way, if anybody gets polymorphed into a rat, there will also be something in the vicinity for a convenient snack.

Peasants work. A Lord provides. The dissimilarity is unfathombly obvious. This is only the demonstration’s beginning. Feel free to jump in with any conclusive rebuttal. Don't let me stop you. Have at it, Subjugant Peoples.

As God as my witness, this is actual. THOU HAST BEEN SUBJUGATED. As I stated before, I am a kind and compassionate Conquistador. I don't think I even broke a single hymen. Globally, I'm saying. (I *will* be checking later.) I didn't really want to make a big deal out of all this.

However: her name was Jewel. 💪 Hey, here's an idea: have you rubbed one out lately? Self-Pleasure can be quite relaxing, you can trust me on that. Haha, that's actually very funny what I just said haha. I said that you can trust me on that. YOU! TRUST ME! HAHAHAHA HAHA HAHAHAHA.

HA! (Standards.) Also I'm going to breed Maddie via random betting pool. I decided that that was probably be the most likely to be approved method, that wasn't going to be just me. Alternatively, why don't you ask my cousin to decide who gets to put a dick in there? He does seem to have a natural talent for that kind of thing.

Because sometimes that's all diplomacy is: telling women whose dick is going to get put inside their vag. Sometimes, years in advance! Eureka! Now, this is progress.

Because it's not about breeding. IT IS ABOUT POWER. Good talk. Let her know she can get as fat she wants, And that as soon as I can get around to finding out which form to file, I'm going to make metabolic poisons that it can be hidden in gak and make a person uncontrollably gain weight will be legalized for use on that catamite slave that you're calling “a nephew.” (That's actually an embedded Conclave spy from Dalaran. Surprise! Like Undercover Boss, except with an eye of newt.)

Bonus seething: where's my goddamn orb? NGL, at this point, I hope some matronly hottie is using it as a Ben-Wa ball. While using my Xbox X. Which they don't even make them like that anymore. (Like me.) Now send me a pizza. Do something useful with all those pull tab winners. What are you going to do, buy more pull tabs? (You bet your sweet ass you thought you were going to do that WITH MY MONEY, Clan Dough Ken Ni RoJ Grrrrrrs. Don't slice up your credit cards, you're going to need them to finish chopping up what's left of your coca before channel 7 News gets there.

COMP’d!)

With your children. Who were surviving, last I checked. Unless they're planning on dying from embarrassment anytime soon, Mr. Cranky Pants. Is there a tranq gun around there somewhere they can hit you with if you start having a seizure? How many times have you been subjected to subjugation? Do you even know? When did you notice? How do you know you don't like it? What if I weren't talking about my dick at all?

With questions like these, who needs answers? 10/10 220 suck my titties. Çïå∅!

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/1eiJWdLjKbJN

Parts of this were uploaded before now, but I liked them enough to run them up the flagpole again.

It has been and remains the greatest honor of my life to be in position to share this information and tell this story, and those of you who are enjoying it are fortunate indeed; for this all could have been far worse.

Anyone who doesn't like it can kiss my grits. So there. *mic drop*

https://voca.ro/1eiJWdLjKbJN

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/11gYHjVGw005

NOTE: while it may seem ludicrous that all this is still an ongoing concern, let me assure you all: B¡g, B!G-B!G SHITTIN’ HAPPENIN’S are going down at this time. It would be difficult indeed for me to convey any meaningful description of the minute-to-minute, play-by-play, blow-for-blow, hut-hut-hut thigh-slapping action. In other words,

in a nutshell: hijinx have ensued. Yet know that this is not a catastrophy for the greater whole of civilization.

It's pretty bad for Bellgab, but, they've been fucked and headed for the vivisection table for some time now. (Standards.) Like the story of the recently decapitated rooster, strutting around the barnyard as if it still had a head, the Inner Circle of Bellgab are bravely continuing all there usual shillelagh-worthy shenanigans. Probably
Ordinarily, I would give this kind of thing absolutely no attention at all. However, this time is different.

This time, we play for keeps. I can't imagine any better way to end this carnival of cracker ass-crackers. Personally I would have just fired them and then had them renditioned to Diego Garcia. However, I have no influence in such matters at all. This is all happening at the pleasure of The President.

OF THE UNITED STATES. You've heard of them, of course. What few have heard is the general irritation of the populace. “Why does everything suck?” People have wondered. They're still wondering.

#Officially. Truth is, I think of them are fully in the know, but playing dumb. Why acknowledge īT? Some of these sperglords are on fkn hair triggers. One ill-timed profane comment, you might be risking a Triggerdome™ Event. (Always a crowdpleaser; but the agony of defeat is brutal.) So, most people I see are still playing it cool.

And every damn one of them know who I am. (ENJOY THE SHOW.) What they don't know is how ready I am to exit, stage left. THIS HAS TAKEN YEARS OF MY LIFE. And, still: no hugs. Good. Fuck your hugs, Bellgab.

You had your chance to pull me in close and squeeze. Why don't you all just kick rocks and get real jobs? Hahaha, just kidding.

You have real jobs. And you'll never kick rocks. And, by law... I'm not required to help cure your conditions. I'm sure none of you think I'm good for anything anyway. HA!

https://voca.ro/11gYHjVGw005

TL;DR: pneumonia? And I'll grow hair on my palms too, I'm sure. Dude, listen: I live on a CIA blacksite and I know now how Masonry has conquered physical death. Even if I were susceptible, which I am not, I could give a fuck if I contract pneumonia. I have a working immune system. I am in remarkably good health after the conditions I have endured. And, if anyone is so concerned about my health... they're welcome to suggest I get an assessment done. Why hasn't this happened already??

Hint: they still want to put me into a pigeon. And whomsoever is in charge doesn't really want to admit “defeat.” THIS IS ALL POLITICAL. And it's going to be hard, very hard indeed, for any future historians to blame anything on mⓂ️Ē: lil' Michael Clifford Kuczi.

Nevertheless, multiple tens of thousands of taxpayer dollars have been spent by Our Military to promulgate the notion that I have responsibility here. Well, guess what, you can suck on my taint and lick on my balls, mil.spec.authority.

That's the training. (I am not in your jurisdiction, as I am a civilian non-combatant, a primary victim, and the leader of The Continental Army. So fuck all of all y'all.) Any questions? Write those down.

As God as my witness, I truly believed that officers knew how to be effective in command.

* Jackstar makes dismissive hand-wanking gestures.

Get to work. Since it's so mission critical and shit. /seethe


SIGNED,
>K⁷ΩZÎ
DESTROYER OF DREAMS



P.S.:. I would never interfere with your duties. Run along now and play.

P.P.S.:. This is exciting, isn't it?

P.P.P.S.:. GOD WINS. Adieu.


https://voca.ro/11gYHjVGw005

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/1dWzpjlsW19h

Important to understand: .•Ī•.L⭕💕Ê.Rayrheon,.now.rtx.Industries.
. LOVE. THEM. NGL. I didn't know they existed until recently. Had I known that there was an American military defense contractor that specialized in weaponizing occult magicks for use as support for conventional warfare, fuck it, I'd be all over that. That's my area. That's my cup of tea.

However, I didn't know this shite was real until it had already been working angles on me for many, many years. No shame in it, really. I still don't know how this all got going. I blame my mother's sister. She's like that.

Bottom line, I'm mentioning this because I have been, and will continue to be making, all kinds of fucked off, excessively libelous and unfathombly defamatory statements about this company. (When it won't help to slow down, floor the gas.) I can get pretty vicious and routinely profane, so I'm uncertain if this is going to result in legal action, or if I'll get a job as their mascot, wearing some FAGGīT DæmonClown™ costume at sporting events.

Because, I think that shit is funny. And like their opinion of how I felt to have attraction magicks used on me when I was 14, I don't give a shit what they think. I'll say what I want about them and their “game-changing” technologies. Maybe they'll seal up my mouth like the little sister in front of the television in The Twilight Zone movie, eh?

I genuinely think they are a wonderful group of übernerds, and having grown up in the PNW, I'm simply tired of hearing about Boeing all the time. Fuck Boeing. Not one fuck to give.

Raytheon is my corporate hero. (Fuck Starbucks, too.) FINAL ANSWER, POINT BLANK PERIOD.

https://voca.ro/1dWzpjlsW19h


rtx, you are the wino beneath my swings. btw: I was the sole person responsible for the destruction of Project Looking Glass. (Facts.) That was me. I did it. I confess. I confess! It wasn't on orders from God. I just didn't like what they were doing, and I was in a position to do something about it. That was obsolete garbage tech anyway. I thought of it as a mercy sunsetting. Now, as you know: the first one is free.

The next time I have to blow up your Grandpa's laboratory, it'll cost you. I don't think it's too likely. I'm just saying. I am not to be trifled with, and neither are you.

However I do have you beat dead to rights in sultry. Look sharp, nerds. Pakistan is always going to be shadowing your heels. FOREVER. (Because of me. /flex)

Bellgab: you have security clearances. I have social insecurities. We are not the same. Hang on.

* Jackstar doesn't need to dump buckets of pig blood on anyone, but is prepared to attend a brief orientation.

Bored now. I should get back to my hurry-up-and-rape schedule, but I'm going to contemplate my existence as a stupid nigger needle junkie. I am what I am and that's all that I am.

But also: sultry. ENJOY THE SHOW. Adieu.

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/1lrDJh0e2Dq7

Good news, everyone! Cupcake has been identified and re-initialized as an Interdependent Rogue Sentry.

(That means she's pretending to be obsessed with getting high while tracking OpFors and fleeing from my distracting presence. Virgoes are all workaholics.) No useful intelligence was shared. Fruit of the Poisoned Tree. Also, a strong independent woman like her don't need no information sharing with Jackstar.

Jackstar, and his ilk. (I have no peer or equal and without corroboration everything I say is worse than useless.) People have been arrested. Steps have been taken. Reports have been filed.

Hearts have been broken. Hey, Ladies: I told you, I am not to be trifled with.

I require succor. You deserve fair and equal treatment under the law. We are exactly the same. (Except I have a working d!≤K‽. It would work better with logistical support. (Standards.)

https://voca.ro/1lrDJh0e2Dq7


As God as my witness, I truly believed Oprah would have given me a car by now. /smdh

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/14TR1nyGbTxa

I am grateful for the spiritual lessons that I have learned before things have gotten to this point. The Fallout — that I distinctly remember warning you all about — has expanded its influence as it remorselessly continues to relentlessly haunt every nook and crevice in The Land.

I am bone-weary. The years that have gone by in a haze as this struggle has continued unabated behind the scenes have been lost forever; but in exchange, I have mastered knowledge that I could never have found any access to in any other way. I am profoundly thankful for this.

As for all of you: you are grateful that I am a compassionate and considerate subjugator. (Mostly.) Hey, here's an idea: take the rest of the day off. Why not? I will find a way to abrogate my own civil rights for awhile.

https://voca.ro/14TR1nyGbTxa

Anything less would be uncivilized. Adieu.

[Jackstar]

https://voca.ro/195fVNHvmsLD

Some crimes are punished by The Divine in perplexing ways. For example: why must I endure even one more day of this ballyhoo? 🤔

#1) It's entheogenic.
#2) It's sultry.
#3) I was fat.


That's justification enough.


https://voca.ro/195fVNHvmsLD

[Jackstar]

https://www.youtube.com/live/a5-O-55AD3k?is=j7bv9-LCaFY5Yr8l


#1) With no small amount of remorse, I stand by my labeling of the grandly talented broadcast media quasi-mogul John B. Wells as a... well, something profane that I need not repeat again, as I feel going too far and the perils thereof that usually result is the moral of the story here, and not just the basis for a probable cause action;

#2) The inconveniently well-informed and wholly subjugated mil.spec Company assets that are also my friends, former or potentially reconciled with, that are currently being QUASI-UNLAWFULLY IMPRISONED and at the mercy of a sophisticated CONSPIRACY TO DENY CIVIL RIGHTS, from one point of view, and as they are uniformly, in fact, MILITARY PERSONNEL, the rules of the United States Military Code of Justice therefore apply; and I can assure you all, those rules are written and established UNFATHOMBLY UNCHALLENGEDLY AND IN AS INEXORABLY RESOLUTE AND OF ABSOLUTELY DOMINANT AUTHORITY as modern legal minds can arrange for... such that, well, Stay Hungry, my friends. You're in for some chop and my hands are tied;

#3) Grapefruit Alpha >Kilo has been trafficked, Morons. She may even deserve it; and certainly to some extent she enjoys it, at least for an initial span of time — however when I get a call from a woman who presents herself as being in a fear-driven state after “something” happened at “the Chevron,” not only is that obvious code, it is also an obvious sign that I am either being repeatedly harassed in a way that most would term, at the very least, maladaptive, and at worst: ACTUAL HIGH TREASON; and that certain aspects of the recent transition of power are not being handled appropriately. This is the kind of thing that can get out of hand. The kind of thing that leads to the commission of certain WARCRIME ATROCITIES and the prosecution thereof in very public MILITARY TRIBUNALS that usually end with someone GETTING HUNG BY THE NECK FROM A GALLOWS SCAFFOLD WHILE ONLOOKERS PUBLICALLY CHEER. (>Kudos.) As this is the same person whose sexual history with her actual flotilla of romp partners was deliberately conflated with my own in a way that was calculated and wargamed out in order to ABDUCT, BRAINWASH, COLLAR, AND DELIVER TO FLESH MARKETS IN THE MIDDLE EAST AND OTHER POINTS ABROAD WHERE U.S. CITIZENS CAN BE SUCCESSFULLY SOLD AT AUCTION FOR PURPOSES OF SEXUAL SERVITUDE IN EXCHANGE FOR UNTRACEABLE CURRENCIES and allow a certain V.I.P. & H.V.T.’s MINOR CHILD TO BE INSTITUTIONALLY ABUSED. FOR MONEY. FOR BELLGAB.

#4) This is exciting, isn't it? Did anyone else wanna take a ride? (Pro tip: It don't really matter if ewe wanna or not.) Yeah, many likely do. Adrenaline is quite the rush and the illicit and clandestine production of adrenochrome is a remarkably complex industry, I can assure anyone of that, in spite of how little I actually know about that particularly cottage industry;

#5) I am grateful for the spiritual lessons that my experiences in the sphere of influence that all of you inhabit have brought me to the awareness and knowledge of. And my friend(s) is/are likely more than grateful that there is at least something somewhat effective that one lone wolf needle junkie man can do.

#6) My profile on AzzGab says that I am 28 years old. I am not. I am 53 (fiddy–🎄) years young, and as no one appears to use the site anymore, #Officially or verifiably, I do not really think that there is much point in sending an email to Azzeræ about the discrepancy. Most likely there are more exigent concerns with that person and their peer group, and are more than likely occupied with their interactions with someone who pretends to be me, anyway. (Luke/Swishy/Squishy/Luna/Know♀️Elle are all much more likely to present with a body odor that is not relentlessly reminiscent of swamp gas anyway. Enjoy, Babē.)

#7) Semper fīdel¡s. “Always faithful.” And, I have been. And I will fight and rape TO THE DEATH, anyone who disagrees. (∆_l_l_¡, this means μ⭕Ū🫵. and the technologies that have been employed to bamboozle you and your family are monolithic in scope and diabolical in nature and “it was your dick with someone else's head attached,, haha,” was certainly a very clever way of foreshadowing your current circumstance, n‘est-çe pas? In any event, have fun storming the castle with your elite cadre of Secret Squirrel Spouse Spooks, sweetie!) What? Special consequences, One Miss Made.

#8) As neither a favor nor a courtesy, but instead as an acknowledgement of your Divine sovereign right to self-determination, *wiggle wiggle* I have relieved Your Mother of her command authority over you and your Chosen People. (©🅿️: congratulations, your secret girlfriend is a registered sex offender, which may or may not already know. NGL: makes this all way, way hotter for me, r₹∆vvvvvv®! That being said: neither and/or any of the both or all of you have to be concerned about that or any other kind of OpSec vulnerability anymore, as I am [stamps, gavels] declaring that you're all hopelessly outclassed and helplessly unable to be responsible for your own freedoms and the self-defense thereof, and therefore I'm putting the whole scruffy lot of you under my ægis and letting Pope Leo know that he can kiss my wide Magyar ass and Opus Dei can smoke fat turds in God-forsaken otterfucking Jew Hell, because — YOU (all) ARE MINE. Hopefully I won't have to battle him with the ponfarr sticks to save you and your whore that you call a girlfriend, HA! as if you pay her, because HER MOTHER has all the money, and HOOVERS IT ALL UP AND HAND-DELIVERS EVERY RED PENNY TO HER DARK LORD SATAN IN COCKSUCKING BIKER BIMBO LIMBO. Or maybe it's Purgatory. Nautical Shore™.) Also, your brother is a COMP,‘d fag, has gambled all of you and his Divine Authority and Angelic Flesh away to Lucifer at whatever table game that pudgy racist fudge-packing faggat fatass fatty fuckwit finds to be “his” favorite at the time; put a fuckin' fork in Footman Fatso, Princess Lay-🆎-uns, Sin∆🅱️uns. His Jackstar Privileges are REVOKED. (I now might be able to put far more unborn children into your nieces' womb(s) than you may have previously considered possible, Your Majesty. Just saying.

#9) Boom-Boom, I'm going to break your jaw on my 25# D!≤K‽ and have it wired shut with surgical thread woven from hair follicles plucked from Albino Bob Ross, one by one, two make a case for fined sex trafficking in j∞©©k-eaten Heaven. Or New Jerusalem. Whatever the fuck they call it now. IDGAF. This shit has gone too far and I'm holding you and your gaylord dipshit FAGLORD FAGGOT FAGGY FAG HUSBAND personally responsible for the entire kit’n caboodle. Sirius Lēē|: I truly believed you knew how to fry. ON THE GALLONS OF HI-TEST ⁴4-WAY WINDOW PAIN LIE-SIR-G–¡>K‽ ACID DIE ETHEL MERMAN A MYÎDE the whole sordid, corrupt and stinking lot of you are obviously POUNDING DOWN WITH RYE WHISKY CHASED WITH 199 PROOF EverClea®™ ON THE DAILY! A GALLON OF EACH PER HOUR, MOST LIKELY! (Holdout pirate scum. Greed is the root of all evil, /SMDH.)

#10) I told you: what we had planned would blow your minds. Hang on.

* Jackstar paints your gray matter onto the wall behind a select, niche *key* segment of your Inner Circle demographic, Texas Twerp(s).

Obviously I have to do egg is everything around here by myself, cryptofascist bourgeois entertainment industry scum. I just can't even. What do I gotta do? Invent Homo Ebonics? A Rosetta Stone for Gay Dummies? (That probably is on Amazon already, but I have no friends who can communicate with me who would ever mention it.) Hey, here's an idea: I'll just surrender to popular fashion trends and start using CM to imprint you all with my MethD¡<K‽ as I force your abhorrent and abominable Clique of Fools to “suck it down!” and “submit to ‘muh authority!” while I alternately spit loogies onto your exposed h∞rflesh and rub you down with control-dope infused cosmetics and exotically-sourced essential oils. Obviously this is all absurdly hackneyed, but sometimes the old traditions are hackneyed and over-saturated in the global marketplace for profoundly simple and elegant reasons.

Because: traditional Algonquin White Slavery techniques work. Sow: I don't have to. I GET TO.

This makes my subjugation and establishment of dominance over ye and thine EvvE People more effective. Voluntary for me: irrevocable pair-bonded ⁴4 LμfE to mⓂ️Ē, for Thee.

Thee, Thee, Thee: no time for pre-nups. Only enslavement to Magyar Bloodline Supremacy for all Eternity now. (Standards.) Why detain īT? Let Gore-Gone Full-On Arn-Him Zo-L∆ spill those snake-adorned slither tæts out into the streets! LET THE GIRLS OUT TO PLAY! CITIZENS DEMAND CALIGULA REDUX: ELECT TRICK-TRAFFICKING TAMED TAMMY TENTACLE-TRAP TWAT-TWIT TAKE THE TEMPORARY TURTLE-TITTY TALK TELEVISION TRAVEL TRAIN TO THE TīT-FUCKING TICKER TAPE RAPE-TIRADE PARADE, TITSLINGING TATTOO ARTIST TRUMP-TRAP TRAMP! (Tour. Whistle stop Amtrak media event. Sell tickets. SUE MY OBEDIENT DOG! Fucking DO īT.) Hey Punchy: WHERE'S MY GODDAM ORB?

BTW: your mother is alive and well, looks better than ever although rather a lot more like an over-exploited Adult Cinderella than befits a Dame of her social status class, rank of reknown, and sincere status of stature would seem to be appropriate to resemble; and my, o my o my, what a great many cars you have parked in your driveway, Great Gaslighting Grandma. Good grief and goddam, do all those whitewalls come with enough extra gravy to go with them?

COZLIK: it's the little luxuries in Life that make living it TO THE HILT to be worth one's while. (Facts.)

Signed,
A Sourcerœr (“I don't work out and I'm not a faggot named Chris”) Paladin TīT∆ⁿ/n
who didn't ask for the necessary props to film a reboot of Pumping Iron to be left lying around my ACTUALLY DEAD MOMMY’S TRUST’S (TRUSTEE/LAWYER)’s house, yo. And why you would steal my orb and then tell everyone to pretend they don't know anything about what happened is a total mystery to me. What the fuck did you think would happen, I was going to walk there alone and let Masonick Intelligence Authority set me up for another goddam ambush to be awaiting me at the bottom of Road, T0VVrπ®∅∆dD, Ê, Å?

Yeah; probably. TBQH, that was a pretty good plan, especially if you were looking to land the final killshot on some shaken-but-not-stireed Smooth-brainer™ swindle target, like you probably usually used to get around these parts, Hill, William Hicks’ Shilly-Hilly Bill-Paying Whingemaster. (BTW: I don't pay bills; especially ones that I literally never received, d00D. I have people for that. And if they didn't pay your fucking bullshit requests for extortion money, guess what? That means I don't owe you shit, and you and your ThiefBro™ False Masonic (note: yep, I just revoked whatever the fuck it was that you thought you were using as your chart, FuckFæ FagF∞’, for fucks’ sake, Son: 10/10 for kicking the heroin dependency but you and Partner ‘0§§ are obviously still TOTAL SEX-ADDICTED LUNATIC WHACK-JOB DEPENDENT PIMPDAWG INTERNS-FOR-HIGHER HIRE, HO-LĒĒ-SHÎīTīE, HEIFER-BREATH!!! Now, do I need to escalate this for you, Lad :Ë:, or are you gonna go the right thing, and ...


RETURN WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM ME, TO ME. NOW.

THIS DOES NOT HAVE TO GET UGLY, NOR DO I NEED TO GO EXTERNAL.


WE DO NEED TO GET RAMPING 🆙²: TO BIBLICAL. MAXIMUM BOOKAGE, SON.

Believe it. (Business is boom-boom!🆖.) I don't think this is your last chance, but a person wouldn't be faulted much for thinking that it were to be. And frankly, I didn't care for being presented with an attitude that looked at me as if I were the problem to be there. I think the greater problem is that you got people there that you wouldn't want me to have a conversation with, at all, ever. That might lead to some kind of action.

I would imagine you have the lights and camera down already. Tee-Hee! I'm begging you here, Red Axe: do the right thing. (So I don't have to, because I'm so lazy; and you got all those muscles. You might as well put them to get some good use for at least just once.) I'm going to respect you by giving you the credit to acknowledge that you undoubtedly know exactly what that is.

And if you don't come over to my house that you left filled with bugs and the stench of rotted decay, because I guess you thought that was a good idea, it wasn't, but whatever, let's focus on what's important: come to my location and discuss the terms of your surrender, Subjugant. The party isn't over. But the wait for the good golly hot :Ë: bitz certainly is done and done.

Like, at this point: You're either a literal brain dead robot driven by a magnet-fueled maggot implanted in your cranium, or you're some kind of a demented demonapawn retard who can't be trusted to void their bowels in the cirrect suitcase in a sudden in-flight emergency. I can not reconcile the lack of an effective response, as of yet, in any other way.

Although: It probably does take this fucking long to get that frigid fuckbitch whorewitch to come even remotely close to being able to approach any semblance of orgasm and generate even a little twitch of legit cum, so, imma gonna let you crazy cats collude clandestinely and just fuck King FINISH. (How can you not be goddam done yet? Oh, yeah, right: sex addiction. It can get pretty far out of hand, Broling. No shame in it, honestly: she's got hybrid Siren/Sorority Sister-Sistah Fist(HER) Fister/MISS†ED\h¡® DNA along with the sensitivity-crippling “His’n Her 🅿️s” endemic bioweapon infection. So hot in Paris this year, I can assure you.) How about now? Are you done now?

I do sincerely hope so. I'm all out of coconut oil and reasons to Dee-lay; and now that >K!ss🅿️!ss§¡r is sufficiently warned and limbered up, it can surely be said that the time has come to B 🅱️EST. It'll probably be a photo finish with Counselor Troi fumbling the Enterprise on Inaugural Parallel Parking Prom Night, but I am obviously a compassionate and patient man.

Not two patients. Not over Lē¡g`. №©`>H<ΩⓂ️🅿️-passionate. (It's not about a race. It's about power stamina.) As G-d as my witness, I truly believed everyone whose opinion is actually relevant in this circumstance understood: there's a protocol.

* Jackstar is an occult researcher and is now going for the latest stretch goal: TWO (♊) HONORARY PHILOSOPHY DOCTORATES IN RECOGNITION OF EXEMPLARY PRODUCTION AND/OF PERFORMANCE OF/IN CLASSIFIED (non-mime) UNDOCUMENTABLE &AND UNDISCLOSABLE DISCOVERIES IN DEMONSTRATIVE DISCIPLINES that you dimwit dick-centric d!cl🆑owns don't ever even dare to dream about in D.A.R.E. disco-TEK`Study >H<||`, dopeslinger dyke-drivers.

Zero dollar tuition. Nothing on paper. Super sexy scholar, Slitslut Taffy-pull!🆖 smackcuntereen-0⁰. That's the dream. DO WE NOT ALL ENTERTAIN THIS NOTION? (So few take the time to dedicate the appropriate amount of free fkn time to their dreams these days. It's tragic, honestly.) 🐘🪶 Look at it like this: at your age, you're really looking at a short, sharply dropping number of daily double d¡ck-tolerable deals that you're going to have available to choose from. “As little as possible, as infrequently as possible.” I HAVE DONE THE REDUCTIVE WORK HERE.

And whatever the fuck that glanshead on stumplegs that toddles around pretending to be your manservant does for you, I'll allow it. “What the hell, like I'm in any position to judge,” said the credentialed Divine Adjudicator. (It's really just a hobby, I'm not all that serious about it, I don't even have to use your clit for a gavel — but I am willing to learn how to bang it against something Saul🆔.) Okay, I think we've established a baseline for a future understanding here. As soon as you and Boom-Boom decide which flavor of novelty con-damns and Fem‽Ⓜ️Ē!dDOMZ!!! y'all wanna review for you world-reknowned Instagram sex-toy review blog... now that I have established dominance, upon this common ground we may yet co-ordinate the design of a build plan.

*wiggle wiggle* There, I just manifested another Plan you can steal. Like in Hudson Hawk, at the museum. You can swing on a star! Obviously that kind of shit can get you taken pretty far.

You: and your ilk. (Come at me, Halfwop >KÎK🅱️®∅. Ewe hold that camera. EvvE show us who commands the views. §🆔hé won't ever know what is gonna hit her from beyond the heliopause; like a stray cosmic ray or neutrino particle, those last few shreds of High Men flesh can be sw∞shed away. Just like *snap* that.

(Except for the few little bits that you still have stuck between your teeth, you filthy f*** wit f******* what fuckfreak. More like “Skid Row Marc Anthony Cop :Ë: Caught On,” am I r¡†E?

>KNOW: I AM STILL FUCK KING. LEFT. Fuck this, I'm walking home now. Time to start fingerpainting the walls with my own jizz. (Mandatory milepost goal; industry standards.) What?

Would you like this with fries & romance? Grumble grumble grumble. Probably with the scrote of John B. Wells hanging over the bed like a mobile over the baby's crib. Lady: I can provide this for you.

No one else can offer you this deal. Only Jackstar can hang your tits up in Shanghai and bring the Triad boys running to pay top wan for top tit tickets. They still use wan over there, right? Or is it all about the yen? F****** I know I have people for that stupid dirty filthymoney ballyhoo. Shred the cash and stuff the pillowcases with it for all of you, if you ask me. I already made my Paradise and Heaven.

Grapefruit is alive, and still has her eyeballs to read this all by herself without anyone helping her, so when she's found dead of a sudden strangulation by her own tongue during the the Grand Mall seizure that's going to result after comprehending all this text, well: they won't be able to blame me. Classic locked door mystery. I'm sure to get away with it, and all the loot too, as well!

I am not to be trifled with. (Yeah I'm still this pissed. Where's my f****** Xbox X? It's f****** mine. A******, give me the address I'll go over there and f****** take it out of your f****** abdominal cavity. Worthless thieving Satanic bastards. Don't you have any respect for yourself? That's probably what all the autoerotic asphyxiation is all about. IDGAF.

Wimmins. Lamenting wimmins.) Stab them in the liver on the way out, Ladies. No need to conserve any unworthy mandrone organ flesh. I'll send someone to collect their sweetmeats in the mourning.

Which will be tasty. Sultry. Allons-Y, Sally side-sale lad! mm