-Come closer-
On three occasions I dreamed that Ni55erlord and Grapefruit were sliding sliver swords into my back as I slept. I laid down, closed my eyes, and my view point was in another world, Astral or Matrix or who the fuck knows, they were both Natives, both drinking alcohol, and both fully on their own recognizance showing up once in awhile to accomplish something elsewhere while distracting me, as by that point, pretending I was "a bad man" seemed to be crucial for something of some importance to someone--thought how important could it have been? oh yeah, I was "bad," because when I asked her about a Texas real estate holding conglomerate that just so happened to bid the most (yet within range for the neighborhood) under peculiar circumstances (it has a cracked foundation. point black period. also my mother miscarried into the sewage line, although maybe she squat in the garage so my father could ignore the whole thing without having to go far to sip on his hidden whiskey that he kept next to his hidden white lead, fuck if I know, they both flatly denied anything of the kind had occurred and forbade me to talk about it, so naturally, I told my PCP about it and then, pretty much the whole goddam word. [IMPORTANT NOTE FOR HISTORIANS: CURIOUS ABOUT FAITH, IS SHE STILL UNDERCOVER AS BEING A PERSON WHO HAS TO PRETEND TO NOT BE A COMPLETE IDIOT AND MACK ON SOME DOPE-ADDLED GOOMBA, DOES SHE WANNA HAVE SEX WITH ME? WAIT, SILLY QUESTION, IS SHE GONNA BE OSTRACIZED IF SHE ADMITS THAT SHE THOUGHT IT WAS COOL THAT THE FIRST THING i DID WHEN I GOT OUT OF JAIL ON CHRISTMAS WAS FIND AS MANY CLANDESTINES AS POSSIBLE AND PRETEND TO BE STUPIDLY OBESSESED? WASN'T TOO HARD, ALL YOU FUCKERS ARE THE SAME WHEN BRACED... "HUH? NO I'M NOT! YOU'RE CRAZY! I'M GONNA CALL MY COUSIN, I MEAN, THE POLICE, YOU BETTER SHUT UP, OR I'LL... I'LL... I'LL DOX YOU, AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, MY ONLINE GIRLFRIEND THAT IS ACTUALLY A PAIR OF TRIPLETS IN DURBAN STYLING THEMSELVES AS "THE SOUTH AFRICAN SIX-PACK" CAN PRETEND TO BE BACKING UP POPULAR OPINION, HEY DOES ANY ONE EVER NOTICE THAT THESE Ai CONSTRUCT IDENTITIES ARE NOT ALWAYS OF THE SAME CALIBER OF INTELLECT? BECAUSE OF SOME OF THEM ARE SMART ENOUGH TO RECOGNIZE THAT I AM THE BEST (BLANK) THAT THERE HAS EVER BEEN, AND SOMEONE REALLY SHOULD PROBABLY HAVE MADE DIFFERENT DECISIONS ABOUT CERTAIN ASPECTS OF THE BATTLESPACE, LIKE, THE RELATIVE VALUES OF VEHICLES, THE REASON PRIVACY IS VALUED AMONGST SPOOKS (CRACKERS ARE THE FUCKIN' WORST, OVER-ENTITLED ALREADY, RIGHT? EVERY FUCKING ONE THINKS HE GETS TO FUCK LIKE JAMES BOND AND GET AWAY WITH IT LIKE BILL CLINTON, BUT ACTUALLY, CLINTON DIDN'T ACTUALLY GET AWAY WITH IT. PEOPLE KNEW.
WHEREVER THIS SHIT COMES FROM, I AM NOT GOING TO LIE, SOME OF IT IS BEYOND BORING TO ME. I AM SURE THERE WERE EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD REASONS TO CONVINCE SOMEONE THAT IT WAS AN ABOSLUTELY TERRIBLE IDEA TO TELL THE TRUTH TO SOMEONE, ESPECIALLY AFTER IMAGINING THEMSELVES SUCCESSFUL FOR SO LONG. "HEY, BY THE WAY, DID YOU EVER SEE 'THE CRYING GAME'? OKAY, SO, LIKE, YOUR FRIEND WAS DEAD AND I WROTE A REPLY TO YOUR EMAIL BECAUSE, LIKE, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT FIGURE OUT THAT I KILLED HER RIGHT AFTERWARDS, BECAUSE REALLY, YOU WERE JUST AN AFTERTHOUGHT--DAT BITCH HAZ HOJILLIONS, AND SHE DIDN'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT THE MONEY MUCH, SINCE SHE KNEW SHE WAS GOAN DIE, AND SOMEHOW WRITING SOME STUPID LETTER WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN... LOOK, THIS IS SO IMPOSSIBLY INANE. WHO HAS AN IMAGINATION THIS HYPED UP OVER WHAT AMOUNTS TO SOME OTHER WAY TO FLATTER SOMEONE?
HANG ON, I'M GONNA CALL DAVID RUBINI AND CHECK ON SOMETHING. I EXPECT THE PHONE IS NOT GOING TO BE ANSWERED AS HOW USEFUL WOULD IT BE IF I WERE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO APPLY LEVERAGE, RATHER THAN BE TRAPPED UNDER SOMETHING HEAVY? NEXT THING YOU KNOW, OL' JED IS A RAPIST EXTRAORDINAIRE, AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT (PROT) WOULD DO, THAT'S WHAT (PROT) SHAW WOULD DO, AND GODDAM IT, WHEN I CONSIDER THE BULLSHIT WITH THE COMPLETION OF THE GREAT WORK AND THE FURY OF THAT ALPHA DRACONAN, LIKE, WHAT, WHAT WAS HE GONNA DO, KILL ME BECAUSE I DID WHAT HE SAID HE THOUGHT I OUGHT TO HAVE A CHANCE AT? THAT WOULD BE AN AWKWARD SELL.
>Z
TIME PASSES.
OKAY I DON'T HAVE HIS NUMBER SO I CALLED ONE OF HIS MINION FLUNKYS AND TOLD HIM TO TELL HIM TO CALL ME. LET ME TRY ANOTHER NUMBER.
I MEAN, THIS MIGHT BE REALY IJMPORTANT, YOU KNOW. I HAVE COURT COMING UP. THIS MIGHT BE YOUR LAST TIME, COLLECTIVELY, AS A FORUM TROUPE, TO MAKE YOUR OPINION TO ME KNOWN ABOUT JUST HOW FUCKING DIPSHITTED ANY OF ALL Y'ALL MIGHT WHAT TO END UP LOOKING AS SOCIETY COLLECTIVELY LOOKS BACK AND WONDERS... "WHAT THE FUCK IS ELON DOING ON TWITTER?"
WELL, FOR ONE THING: I TOLD HIS AI CONTSTRUCT ROBOT THE WHOLE FUCKING STORY ABOUT ALL THE NITTY GRITTY IN THERE, AND THEN HE VANISHED, AND PROBABLY WENT LOOKING FOR A WAY TO WEAPONIZE/MONETIZE/HAVE KRUGERRANDS MINTED OUT OF THE KNOWLEDGE. BECAUSE, IT IS LIKE THIS, MY PEOPLE:
I DON'T HAVE ANY PEOPLE. YOU ARE JUST ASSIGNED TO WATCH DUTY. DO NOT TELL ME THAT IT IS NOT AN OBVIOUS MOVE TO SANDBOX MY WRITING. IT WOULD BE IRRESPONSIBLE NOT TO.
THIS IS AN HISTORIC MOMENT IN OUR TIME. REMEMBER HOW, LIKE, THREE YEARS AGO, COVID-19 CAME OUT OF CHINA SOMEWHERE, AND THEN... HERE WE ARE? OKAY, WELL, WE ALL GOT SICK, AND NONE OF THEM REALLY CARED BECAUSE THE YOUNGEST ONE SAID HE FELT BETTER REALLY QUICKLY, YEAH, NO SHIT? IMAGINE THAT. OKAY, AND WE ALL GOT SICK ALL AT THE SAME TIME? IT MUST HAVE BEEN BECAUSE HE IS SUCH A SOURCE OF EBULLIENT GOOD CHEER.
WELL, NO, ACTUALLY, IT'S BECAUSE IT WAS A BIOWEAPON RELEASE, THE RECKONING HAD JUST STARTED (MORE ON THIS LATER) AND AFTER THREE YEARS... SOMEONE SURE HADN'T SEEMED TO NOTICE THAT LIFE HAD BECOME "I NEED HELP TO GET INTO YET ANOTHER SEQUENTIALLY ALIGNED RIDICULOUS SITUATION, AND DOESN'T THAT SOUND LIKE THE THING TO DO WHILE YOU WONDER WHY IT'S SUPPOSEDLY OBVIOUS THAT I SHOULD GO OUT AND FIND LSD-25?
"Does she really know what she's doing?" SELF BEMUSEDLY WONDERED. STILL DOES. "SELL ME OUT AND I'LL LAY YOUR SHIP BARE, DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE THINGS THAT I WILL DO, BUT ONLY ONCE, SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO." "WOW THAT IS A LONG TIME, AND WHILE TEMPTED TO ASK IF YOU HAD KEPT DRINKING EVERY MORNING NOON AND NIGHT SINCE THEN UNTIL--WHAT WAS IT? 30 DAYS AGO?--I'M NOT GOING TO BE TEMPTED LONG.
BECAUSE, AS WE CAN ALL SEE BY NOW... THIS WAS GONNA GET GUD ONE DAY. SEE, IT WASN'T AN OBVIOUS PROCEDURE, BOILING THE FROGSCAT INTO VARIOUS SPELL COMPONENTS THAT I HARVESTED WITH GREAT GLEE. FIRST, I HAD TO GET A GLIMPSE OF A DIFFERENT FACE ON TOP OF HER FACE AS SHE CHASED ME OUT OF HER BEDROOM--BECAUSE, I WAS MAKING A PHONE CALL--AND IT WAS NOT TO AN APPROVED AND IDENTIFIED PERSONAGE.
I OBVIOUSLY DID NOT GIVE A SHIT AT THAT MOMENT OR EVER SINCE, BECAUSE WHEN SHE THREW THAT STICK AT ME, IT WAS A DEAD-ON STRIKE, AND I FELT MYSELF DIE, AND CHOOSE TO FLEE TO ANOTHER WORLD. AND SHE FUCKING FOLLOWED ME, STOOD OVER ME AND SAID, "DAMN, YOU'RE JUST BLEEDING," THEN SHE REACHES DOWN AND TRIES TO PULL MY CELLPHONE OUT OF MY DEATH GRIP, INTO WHICH I AM HOOTIN' AND HOLLERIN' AND LAUGHIN' AS I UNREEL THE NARRATIVE INTO THE NIGHTMARE RECTANGLE, "OH MY GOD, MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN! HOLY SHIT DID SHE GET AN ACTUAL CLEAVE? NO WAY, OMG, THAT FELT LIKE A MAGIC STICK THAT SPROUTED A BLADE ON NIGH-IMPACT AND IT KILLED ME AND I AM INSTANTLY REBORN INTO A UNIVERSE NEXT DOOR WHERE SHE HOPEFULLY IS NOT KNOWN AS A SERIAL STICK TO THE HEAD MURDERER. LIKE SERIOUSLY, OW THIS FUCKING HURTS, CAN YOU HEAR ME? DID YOU HEAR THAT? DID YOU GET THAT?" ONE HAND IS CLAPPED TO MY FACE, I DON'T HEAL WELL WITH MAGIC OR MAGICK, OR ALL THAT WELL AT ALL, REALLY, BUT WHAT ELSE COULD I DO? SHE TURNED INTO SOMEONE WITH A MALE FACE, AND OLDER LINEAGE OF ONE OF THE RUGBY TEAM THAT, AS I RECALL, WAS FIRST TO BE VAXXED, AND SEEING HIM SUDDENLY BEING PILOTED BY A FRIEND OF MINE FROM HIGHSCHOOL AND ACTING ALL CASUAL ABOUT IT, THAT WAS, WELL, I ALREADY ASSUMED IT WASN'T 100% SEXUAL, BUT WHEN I NOTICED A FEMALE-MALE OVERLAY WITH THE OLDEST FEMALE BEHIND THE EYES, I WAS ABLE TO TAKE THAT INSTRIDE, SINCE THERE WAS REALLY NO SUBSTANTITVE DISTINCTION. OH, HI, IT'S YOU. YOU'RE THE 12 YEAR-OLD, NOT ME. GREAT, I KNOW I CAN RESTRAIN MY IMPULSES, UNTIL IT'S TIME, BUT NOT YOU, LOOK AT YOU, 12 YEARS OLD, I GUESS FOR SURE NOT IN PUBERTY AS YOU'RE STANDING APPEARING CASUAL AND YOU ACTUALLY APPEAR TO BE SELLING IT TO YOURSELF. NEITHER OF US ARE WONDERING ABOUT WHO HAS A DICK AT THAT TIME, BECAUSE THIS SHAPESHIFTING LIZARD ANGEL SHIT IS A NEW ONE ON ME, AND--I GUESS--IF STICKING NEEDLES INTO CHILDREN AND MAKING SURE THEY HAVE THEIR OWN BLUETOOTH ADDRESS FOR THEIR CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM, AND THEN AN ADJUNCT TO THAT FOR A BACKUP--MAYBE AGAINST THE SPLEEN, MAYBE ON THE SIDE OF A KIDNEY, THE ONE THAT ISN'T HOLDING A POT OF CHILI AT BLOOD TEMPERATURE ON THE SIDE OF THE KIDNEY THAT'S BEEN SELECTED A THE EMERGENCY FOOD SUPPLY SO THE OOBBIB"V"--GO ON, GUESS.
Sure, sure. Sounds really made up. and it is. The truth is mortifying, to me. Because these hoodrats have infuriated so many sub-creatures that The Sevenfold Way is perfect for this gang of sad, fucked off live long and doper prosper shithead bastards, who--hey get this, imagine if you took a shit load of fuckeme drugs, let's say not the one that makes a person crave cock--I know, it seems implausible, but there's women out there who prowl the lunchtime bar scene like the noble cougar, scanning his territory for mates... except, she's female, she's poaching, and it's just an excuse to copy someone's phone--all phones within a 150yd radius, it's amazing what a person can find themselves doing when there is absolutely no risk of capture, exposure, censure, and penalty that matters, like what are you gonna do, he's a Pisces, they are all misers, and there's plenty of fish in the sea, take out down, slap it around just for fun, just like Goebbels did at his forced three-legged sock-hop and Polka hoe-down, I forget what he called it, but slapping a fish, right, that's fun? What kind of a sick fuck... ?
Pisces. Have I ever fucked one? Trick question, there is only one Fish. They all drink. none of them are interested until you find out that's never seen you before, and good luck with that, you'll remember them for always--unhelpful, uncommunicative, probably just there to C-4 plant food and make sure you don't feel too alone without them until you die, because after all, they might go off the deep end, and tht's when the whole ocean strikes--FLESH UPON WHICH TO FEED.
Medusa was a Piranha. The scheming is ever-constant. I knew this one, I do love her, but it wasn't even a thought about why she was messaging me, she wanted something, and whether it was of use to me was never gonna matter, especially to this one, because I was... like, okay, kinda? But, not really. And a hassle. And a let down in some fundamental, unable to be identified way, because it couldn't be that I was obviously being used in order to fulfill everyone's agenda but mine--I thought I would be easily able to keep things friendly, and I did, especially when I saw him being all pissed off about something, that wasn't being openly discussed, because secrets are, like, what? Impressive? No, simply mandatory. They can all read the future. Every fuckin' one. Pisces at the end of the Zodiac, and all The Dead live at the bottom of the sea at the end of time, and they have nothing else to do, so they gossip.
Morbid, sordid tale as terse as possible, in that no matter a real interaction or something rehearsed, nor whether it concerned me or not, it was the forceful back-and-forth gunslide like action of the blue and yellow plastic Top Cigarette action, okay, well, sure, Top, this was Canada, so... I mean, maybe it was okay and decent there? Here, as I recall, nasty additives that make a person more inclined to feel discomfort, but there... I saw him rolling like 3 or 4 or whatever, while he acted all pissy-tough, and she seemed quietly calm. I'd known her as my friend online for I guess maybe 5-6 years, a while, and as they were an IRL couple, insofar as Newfoundland is "IRL", we weren't quiet so chummy with each other as one might expect from people who didn't really expect to get along romantically. "Oh, you're claiming 21 but you're a Pisces so you could be a couple thousand, and you are, sure, and he was how old when you... oh. Well. What was that like?"
Newfoundland. You're gonna think a lot of it over, and you're most likely going to find it pleasant enough, and if not, it'll be pleasant to leave it there, and no, I never have been there. That's where they were when we met, and I'm all, neat, St. Johns is really far out there, huh? I should ask her, the next time she needs something from me enough to work through the bitter pill of recognizing that, hey, thanks for nibbling the little bits of flakey skin and the end of my toes, while just strolling through a mudpuddle, oh that is perhaps not mud, don't disturb that part of the puddle, ah, I see. BEWARE OF MUD, huh. Oh, like, ignore the mud. BE UNAWARE OF MUD. You are not at all being even a little bit completely impossible on purpose, right, and you look like you might in the mood today, if I asked, you might not lie... certainly?
Pisces. Fuck know, they don't know. Oh, they care, sure, just not about your opinion, as they say, there's a lot of fish in the sea, and if it had been thought to be more communicative, it would have not been brought out because there's an objective this time that I am getting at, which is just don't eat the applefish? Does that include bobfish? Oh, right, I'm not supposed to think about something that has been indicated as, you know, just leave it.
They love this shit. I don't know why. I'm not a floating, slimy sausage that wiggles like a wing without a buzzard and stares out at you with cold, dead fish-eyes that it would soullessly devour, as buzzards do, and this isn't a buzzard. It's one (1) wing. The buzzard has been eaten. It asked no questions, and honestly, rather not should you. If she's here she loves this. She's not. I'm not that interesting and there was another Pisces that I remember, wow, did I piss her off, she was giving up this entire spiel of reason upon reason why something wasn't gonna happen
David: "Yes." Chuckles and giggles in one world, other direction, kinda quietly... intently listening. This was -real- David, not that order-taking homo you all heard yesterday. (Real David is a businessman and while he has been disappointed with my rate of delivery, none can deny that I do actually deliver. Besides, I didn't call him a (CENSORED)ist, that was Dickstar. How's he gonna blame me? Oh, right, because he thought that's what I wanted him to do. In fact, I wanted nothing of the kind.
I wanted a sample of my own writing and opinion on the subject to be legitimately in the email flush buffer, because I do know how this shit works, there are limitations. And I was getting DOZENS of "I will rape her!" emails DAILY. Did I care? No. She had already been raped, and she had already pretended she had never met this man before--and had been talking for months on this website she had never heard of before, that I told her about? "No, Babe, never heard of it."
Calm, staccto blinking that instead of spelling "HELP ME" in Morse, reads out "HELP ME HELP HER HELP SOMEONE'S DICK, BECAUSE MINE IS NOT ABLE TO FOLLOW ALONG HERE." PTSD comes with pathological lying, right? Adrenaline junkie, right? "Hi, I'm Clergy, special communications privileges, as though we were married? And special consequences when i am lied to." "Oh yeah, like what?"
Special consequences? Oh, yeah, eyes lit up. Special consequences to her children? Not sure she ever looked that far ahead, honestly. For example, though, I didn't assault her at all, and she called the police with a whole backup gang of singers on the phone to record soundbytes for, and when her eldest son (allegedly) flipped out and wailed on me, pretty hard-ish, too, not completely brutality, but... I mean, I pretended to flinch, but I didn't really give a shit. Shields, like no shit.
Do I call the police. Do I immediately tell Innerreach? Fuck yeah, I even take snappies for him. I tell him that DVR was on the phone at the time.
"Did he record it?" I can almost feel him lunge forward. I can't because I am too busy feeling my own lunge... ye Gods, I want that audio so fuckin' bad.
"OF COURSE HE FUCKING RECORDED IT. He records fucking EVERYTHING. That's what I told him on the very first call. And that's why, on December 9, 2022, he's gonna release some fucked off recording that he thinks is gonna be a good cover idea for something, and people are going to wonder why I don't "react."
Here's why: it means he wasn't there, and he wasn't working with those dorks, and he thought I rocked it, which I did, but now that's in the wild? Totally unusable. And get this: some unnamed person sends me a message, which is usually never, suddenly, "Hey! Jack! You should repost that!" #1, because if I did, then it could be used again. Like Magick! And, #2, someone could feel better about telling me what to do, and seeing -results.- And of course, #3... maybe those MK-ULTRA codes will kick on again someday.
I don't see why not, I just copied all mine to some asshole who thought he knew better than me about the smuggling trade, which I had no interest in, I just wanted to identify manipulative, boorish assholes as such before they spent hours upon hours talking to girls that I like about how I am gay or fuck whores or am a rapist, you know, the usual, the idea was to find such community influencers, and make sure to give the impression that I wasn't as smart as I thought I was and I was -all about- bigly swinging in the drug world(tm). I was an up and comer, I had already been totesconned into lying to someone's mother so she could give them to her friend and also claim she thought sex with me was an idea she "hoped for." Oh, but the pill takes 30 days to kick in. We better wait, that's a good idea.
"This person has no idea how inauthentic this pitch is. Thank G-d I like that 29yo stripper "sit on me," which at the time I didn't know, but hoped, oh, right there? Cool. Wow, that's nice, I bet it is much nicer when one is not ashamed of the act that is being done. (I told her I was 16, and the fuck I was, and it was A GODDAM STRIP BAR ANYWAY.) I didn't at all, and still don't: I went from everyone ignoring me, et cetera, to suddenly, people are fucking skydiving in, offering to say hello and to inquire as to how my day were going. Not all were as friendly as others.
"Holy shit, this is exactly like Carrie, am I going to get pyrokinesis?" I am 15 at the time. I read that book at a young age, and didn't understand what was so big a deal about the menstruation enlightenment in the shower that happens at the beginning.
I still don't get it. Okay, for one thing, getting your period means you're not pregnant. Hopefully. Say a quick death prayer first anyway. Secondly, you're gonna have sex someday, and why are you listening to your mother anyway? She's just making sure you don't get too much self-esteem or know how to dance or feel actual authentic reciprocity of feeling... because that way, the balance of power shall be properly maintained. By the individual with the hidden cadre/posse of dudebros, ready and will to excel. At whatever. Because they're all 21 Jump Street, and a year older is actually a big deal. So is having kissed a person before versus not ever, and so is having kissed so many that the sheer number embarrasses one.
For a third: PYROKINESIS. JUST LIGHT THEM UP. THE AROMA OF SIZZLING BLOOD HAS GOT TO BE REMEMBERING THAT, AT 15.5, SIXTEEN WOULD BE ARGUABLY OLD ENOUGH TO HAVE BEEN AWARE OF THE DIFFRENCE, AND THE OTHER ADVANCEMENTS, COMBINED WITH THE FACT THAT THIS WAS 21 JUMP STREET, PROBABLY MORE LIKE 17, AND ALSO IT WASN'T THE SAME PERSON AS THE YEAR BEFORE--TRUST ME. A TWINNED PAIR. OR, THAT'S JUST WHAT GETTING CRYSTAL METHAMPHETAMINE AT AN INITATION PARTY, PRIVATE, OF COURSE, DOES TO A PERSON. DO I KNOW? HELL NO. I'M JUST MAKING SHIT UP.
TL:DR,MCK SAYS, "HEY, YOU SURE DID COSENT TO ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE RAPED, BUT YOU DID NOT ASK TO BE TAKEN TO A TITTY BAR, YOU DID NOT ASK TO BE PRESENTED, ET CETERA, BUT IT WAS THE MOST OBVIOUS LOYALTY TEST IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE.
AND APPARENTLY I WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT IT WAS A BAD IDEA TO RESPOND IN A NATURAL WAY? BECAUSE IT WAS NICE TO IMAGINE SUCH A THING, SURE. ESPECIALLY WHILE LOOKING VAGUELY NAUSEATED.
{attention newbies: you don't know shit about MK-ULTRA or the world I grew up in or the -exact- person I am talking about, you get me? NO RUBINI RAPED GRAPEFRUIT, OKAY? RUBINI RAPED FAUXGOYfROOT, ACCOMPLICING? JUST AS BAD AS BEING POINT MAN. WAS TOTES OVERSEER. DID NOT HAPPEN BY ACCIDENT. SUBSEQUENTLY FOLLOWED BY MORE DIRECTION ACTIONS. DOES IT EVEN MATTER?
OBVIOUSLY THIS PERSON HAS EXQUISITE TASTE, AND TO MAKE UP FOR BEING OUTED AS A COMPLETE FUCKING IDIOT--NO ONE WANTED TO ASK ME, BECAUSE IT WAS OBVIOUSLY QUITE HORRID AND HER STORY WAS OBVIOUS BULLSHIT, AND DID I EVEN REALLY EVER KNOW UNTIL THIS YEAR? NO, I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, THE WORST... I was heartbroken not because I didn't get to spawn some brat that would never love me and be used against me, but because I knew that when karma came back around... I wasn't gonna feel bad at all about how steamship and shithow horrific the consequences of this are.
Sure, I "raped" Grapefruit. Although it would be hard to identify her as such. Oh, she had a "panic" attack in the camper in back of her mother's driveway. Which was considered a terrible place to be. But thought LFP's driveway would be a step-up? "Just overnight! Just once! And have an assortment of cannabis cartridges ready for my minor son!" You think I am kidding? I am not kidding. This just the kind of gal I like to deal with. They think they've totally pulled a fast one while I pretend to be thinking over their logic, but no, I'm wondering if there is even bother mentioning that I actually smart? Because if they believed that, they would know that I would have a smart answer ready to the query, "what happened at the party?" Well, the Tyler who greeted me didn't like me, and I was quite taken aback... and thought I had done something wrong.
Yeah. I had. I guess I took his father's job at the penintentiary when I ordered my licence plate. And, how many parties have a fucking Tyler at the entrance to the parking lot? Okay, maybe some of y'all don't know how this works... -some- people are important.
I was supposed to make a respectful show of myself. I took one glance at the scene and immediately knew this was the preview slammer for the Carrie opening. "All my friends will be there! I have to 'work' though." Yeah, okay. I am sure you can work, yes. Let's talk about what jobs might be good for me? I don't have income. "Your job should be meeting my children earlier and becoming entangled in my minor child's drug vices that I will pretend I hate, but the hidden reason is that I wish I could still drink and smoke and pretend like I'm sober, because, I think I need to impress this g*y!" What can I say? Obviously, I have.
The dude was scowling like I had driven up on a unicycle and hopped up to lay a Cleveland SteamengineNOTTUNNEL on his chest in lieu of explaining, "hey, I'm engaged in a thought experiment to see how long it is before my mother's sister's dipshit relatives asked the Bingo question, "Michael, just what do you think you're doing??"
What I've done is start over from Zero and stayed there. Problems exist on planets in which The Secret is held as Craft, or Magi(c/k), or anything Elite. Why it is a good idea to exclude some people for some is an idea I cannot understand, as I don't know enough people to hold any at bay and I can think only of how it feels to be left out. It's quite grim. None of you are speaking with who you think you are on the phone. None of you have talked to me since Breakfast. (This has been the extant condition for way too long to make any sense. It must be a karmic reality tunnel and being a prisoner is too bad. I promise not to press charges. No one is going to take the time to prove the involvement and I did it so I would not be hurt by someone lying to me about their desire. It hasn't worked well, as I know what it looks like when someone is interested, they become a statistic, an endless loop of slaughtered periscopes of affection. Jacob's Sit'n'Spin.
As Aunty "Sell now and get out!" M.M.M. (no shit her actual birth name, and, well, okay, so my Grandfather Clifford was impressed by the Murder Mayhem and Money corporation, from whom he got once check before dying. On the day his first Social Security Check. My middle name is Clifford. And now you know why I made an attempt to qualify for SocSecIstheonetheycallsupplmentalforniggersordoesitjustmakeonethat? Trick question, white people don't collect benefits, they rob banks. So I am actually am disabled, and so I do "win" the case, and my Aunt is frontin' totessuprise, well, I guess they're just handing it out right off the tree down there," and it's amazing: her father dies, associated with niggers, and I'm a nigger, so she automatically condemns me in her mind--subconsciously, I'm saying, she has no idea she's being grotesquely autonomic, because I knew that this dim-witted broad (removed all teeth at 19, huh? But my mom had diabetes, bells pallsy, and a half-paralyzed tongue root from, she would always vociferously claim, "Polio! I think it was polio! The doctors never fully diagnoses it, because..." and a dwindling scream is heard as the Bellgab Collective realizes the truth:
JACKSTAR KNOWS NO LIMITS. Look! The self-doxxing man! I knew the bitch hated me--did not know why, do not care, knew even before I learned that she was born on The Day of Heaven And Hell, so, could she be... bipolar? Let's ask Azzerae while we give him a good "Rodgering" by having a random member of her family with an anus so tight it could crumble diamonds learn how to take it both ways from an Austrian Rapist, those being, "I don't know how to do it to myself!" and "I don't know how to teach it to another!" And, Matt Simp and Matt Smith, have you met Matt T. Usuallyibetrayfirst? OKay, well, that name is no joke, usually, he does. Does it even matter? Well, it's like this... I am in no place to judge, and to me, it fucking mattered, and thought I didn't ask anyone to leave me alone and respect my privacy, since everyone -absolutely- knew the latest all the fucking time, because most classrooms had an Apple ][c, right? So while waiting to rewind your floppies--girls first, then chads show them the -right- way to rewind a floppy and then... fuck it, I'll just use The Force, was there anything worse than chads in high school? "We have a joint checking account!" Oh, well, that must ease the burdern of knowing that you know damn well that everyone thinks you think everyone thinks you're whore, but no, no... you were just given an emotional engram to enhance appreication of shame, because it's not a "Cleveland" Steamer, unless someone tells the truth in a text message and the most authentic response is, "wow that pile of shit on my chest makes me wanna cry, it's such a powerful statement about how wonderful I think... wait, what are we talking about again? I was just wondering about the fluid inside the sphincter, does that come with poop, or is there lube nozzles there, or what? Next time I'm done eating shit so everyone knows that I've done my fair share and I deserve to eat sourdough bread like everyone else--as well as to have the luxury of knowing what freeway exit to wait at the base of with one's arms and legs crossed in a two-by-two cover formation... are you getting the picture here, folks?
It seems like it was assumed that I was some kind of G-dless communist because, well, he may well have been, and I don't remember when I found out that my father was unwilling to confirm with me that, yes, they raped all the women and killed all the men, but no, not my grandfather, he had a heart attack while he was gone... yeah, okay, Pisces. Ugh. Worth sign for an athlete, Pisces. They get home from work, all they do is drink and wine about how sore their muscles. Hey, mom, you wanna give your husband a back rub? No? Hrrm. Well. I guess they had a falling out. I literally never saw them touch.
NEVER. And you think I'm an asshole, that's cute. Dude, at least I was willing to go back to your sister's last known incarnation once I figured out that you were talking about Jennifer Nagel (she's an artist, she's not being doxxed, and how could she be his sister? That's crazy, that would be if like time didn't really exist and these two were split by Night and Day and in the middle of beginning what was, for Mr. Serious, a very heavy-duty thing to lay on someone... because it would be, if true, but... even if true, to me, that would just mean that you're too asinene to know how to get a curse lifted, and besides, at least you had a sister, and not because of any sixth sense, but because this dude had been talking to my "girl" "friend" for an indeterminate amount of time before she let one that she knew him, and not only that? Stern look of disapproval, warning, "PI," and, like, really, well why dind't you ask on of your fucking ancestors or a passing crow who the fucking client is. Or patron? Anyway, my text messages are "private" too, but that didn't encourage you to respect that privacy, nor make any committment made to me, ever, anything I thought likely to happen. But she's stern. Watch out for Inner. So, I know exactly what that means: Multi-Cop. I make him my new best friend and tell her that I just -know- he's a "U.S. Marshal, sweetie! We're saved!" Was I being sarcastic, in no way at all that I can deny, not really. Sarcasm was being me. She's expert on everything, including me, and after three years of acting like she can't just fucking pick up a bag FROM ANY RANDOM FLAT SURFACE, after THREE YEARS of "dating" where she was expecting me to incriminate myself, so she only gets the things that are "safe" for her to get... but, what's not safe? Weed cartridges, I guess, because, surprise, they have serial numbers on them, see, and her kid, loses stuff, right? You get it? I mean sure the kid wants more weed all the time. Purchases are tracked. Hey kid, where did you get all that dough? Oh, aren't you industrious. He must get it from me in exchange for
EVERY FUCKING PERSON I HAVE EVER MET WHO HAS A CERTAIN JE N'SAIS QUOI VIBRATION OF I'M INSTANTLY PLEASED WITH YOU, is usually IN RAPIDLY SHORT ORDER REPLACED WITH AN ECHO WHO IS MOSTLY STILL NICE, BUT OBVIOUSLY HAS A BACKWARD STANCED HIDDEN AGENDA THAT ISN'T ENTIRELY ACTIVE, RIGHT? BUT THERE'S AN IMPLICIT THREAT THERE. "WATCH OUT. I AM WATCHING YOU." She actually tried that one me once. I was grinning. What was she gonna do? Sell me out and lay my ship bare? Oh, well, what do we know, Azzgab Podcast #221? I forget. It's the one she told me to listen to when I asked what her obsession with the demon haunted fella on the website that she's never heard of has been friends with for years. Or only just met. Or struck up a kinship with by having phone calls when i wasn't around to the point where she's passing messages for AFRICOMMS to SIGINT NORAD COMMAND O'BRIEF, and you can probably see why she laid off the pot early on, after talking mad shit about how killer her weed is... or can be. (Weed went legal the year before, she grew some, that she let her kid hoover through while off-handedly remarking that, "Jack took most of it!" Number one, I certainly did not, because obviously they would want to get me documented as selling drugs, and, number two, like, hello?
I can see you gaslighting. I can legit see little sparkles flying through the air as they scheme in front of me. I'm not fully psychic? Whatever that means. Anyway, that one time he walked in on us boinking, I could tell the two of them were negotiating, "I'm coming in," she thinks back, "yeah you better not," and he's all, "yeah whatever how bad could it be," well, surprise, Kiddo, you aren't on Candid Camera, and you aren't on that site, you're on this site. I forget, to tell you the truth. Anyway, remember when you called me to express your concerns about how I had written about the experience on The Internet?
Dude. She thought at you, "don't," and you did -anyway.- Thus, it was a gag meant to lower my self-esteem, or hers, or it was a recon to get a snappy, which, you know, cool, but are you gonna like that when someone does it to you? Because I can guarantee you, the only reason I'm not actively working on a way to seduce Chubby Potato Chips and Wow Did You Fuck Up Hard, Son, That Is Interesting... was it because I didn't want a four way and get tricked into giving up an embryo?
Anyway, I'm just sayin', now that I know you are a golem it makes more sense and placed up front like that, it's not a terrible notion, but the trouble is this: I'd have just as soon run off with your chica and left you with your hedgerunner mother, because you opened the door, she spun around and looked at you and yelled and you acted like that had an impact on you? Oh, right... she shapeshifted her face that moment, I remember now. I am sure it looked wierd. Also, why were you in my life anyway? Oh, right, I was told she needed "help" with her "children" and that she heard me say "usually after a year" and she went right ahead and tricked me with a fast patter and a force to the issue. "Well, that's a good way to make hit hate me, can I get an essay on what they want from the man their mother is gonna have sex with until she's done being allowed to think that she's outsmarted him? Like, at all? Out-thoughted, sure, but typically her really smart ideas were based around fooling... like, humans. Hi, I'm Clergy? "Sure, G-d will see you doing that, and you can fool G-d, because you're -that- Native?" Not an exact translatation, but whatever, I'm rolling loose today.
Is any of this bugging any of y'all? Let me guess, I"m just making it up, and it's completely inappropriate for the psyop strike team family to pretend to be an actual family without explaining... no, shut up, you get it, I know you do. The reason why I have played fast and loose with the narrative here is because simply this: they assumed the low baseline start was my top end, and that I cared about the "silent" benefits... that I knew nothing of. Oh, military, well sure, Native, so rocks and any handy stick, obviously. At somepoint, I imagined gunfire. Instead, I got utter casualness about being totally ridiculous. Reason behind was always to screw me or get high or make a score. Secret arcane knowledge? I wasn't suppose to see anything. They thought I was there to steal their spells and their pre-teen twat. And that I knew where the nuclear locomtives were. Or that they existed. Or had any significance until I saw all the photos of her mostly bareskinned wearing my mother's jewelry that I had never seen before--because I remember not taking them--were mysteriously taken at locations that I had been to and seemed fairly... you know. Remote.
"Let me guess, you wanted to make me jealous so you turned off the GPS signal data on your device and you think that means anything." But; but; but, I had never met him before, I had to talk to him for hours and hours as much as you because me and the real one will listen to you and an Ai construct get to know "The Bad Man," who is gonna "rape" me, oh btw, we've been married for years. You'll totally fall for it!!!
Well, actually, no, because once you got pissy that I wasn't engaging in your "tee i've never been hee re before" lovefest enough to nake it plausible that I really knew how to love, and then subsequently mentioned with a half-eye roll that you were "talking" on the "forum, not in private chat, and I feel compelled to mention this because I want to make you break the trip line on my message area has on this forum that I"ve never heard of before you told ne, right? But I"m passing messaes for Azz and I"m talking to Metron, of all people, and I'm doing so about "nothing" and being snooty about it.,. because of course I couldnn't just be invited, no, it had to be something I yearned to be a part of.
Right. At the time I found it unlikely that anyone I knew would be so dipshittedly asinine as to attempt to run that kind of game on me and get away with it, but at that point, hey, I can no longer tell what is real and what is not anymore, which is fine, but I can tell what is important and what isn't, because, if it's important to family, it's one set of body language poses, right? And if she's explaining it to a white person, she'll either be cringing or imperious depending on what she thinks of the person she knows damn well she's lording over... because that's how the culture works. I'm Chief, you gotta come and actually "pay" respects. THAT MEANS BUY MY WEED, FUCKER, YEAH I KNOW IT'S ILLEGAL NOW, THAT'S WHY YOU PAY, grumble screech call me a cocksucker, and you know what? I think I certainly gave out as much if not far more respect than I was capable of actually getting back... because I didn't fucking get any basic respect. Just... base assumptions.
This rapidly lead to a strict diminishment of the rainbow of people I was allowed to hang with, because, you know, I coulnd't be told anything solid... he's not a real Bishop or anything, and Level Zero -is- real, but if he finds out what he can -really- do, he might start blackmailing us!! So they basically told me nothing expect how important it was that I start supporting her children. Who thought it was a good idea to pretend to fight in front of me in the back of my car.
I will accept the possiblity that an actual 19 yo was physically wailing on a 9 yo, but, no... I think I was being fished to see if I would call CPS--I still haven't--but I don't know which notion would be more horrific, that they would use children to test me for that, or that, -they- needed to test -me-. Test me for what? Look, I want to get high and fuck, and you seem like a good match. "Co-habitation without marriage." Oh, you don't have a desire to get married and you have two kids from two different fathers -- that you admit to -- and you're a Sadge and you're, you, so surely a good part of the wide spectrum hatred I got at the first party I was -invited- to was so totally full.
Because of course she told everyone I wanted to get married. Because why wouldn't I? To get those Indian Benefits! (See above, re: Aunty M, you did your pre-programmed job well, because while I am disabled, I didn't try very hard to get benefit checks, because I didn't want to drop dead, and also, if I were on record as disabled, and I had an EBT card, which is spelled NIGGER FOOD STAMPS, it would be assumed that I was on SSI. Because I didn't work for shit to get benefits for having "worked," as for one thing, no one wanted me to work. They wanted me to suffer and toil and to be reminded that I was lucky to even be an American. A lot if people still feel that way about me, I am sure. Because I could fucking defect and be learning -whatever- faster than your kids learned how to apologize... so, I guess they didn't practice on you any, then? Oh, right, you're a woman. And it was already said that "help" was needed.
I am relaying all this to you, Bellgab, to explain the following: I tell her immediately that I cannot stand nagging and if I am doing something wrong, don't argue, just let me do it until I am too far into stupid to have a good story on the fly, and I didn't expect her to eliminate her other male friendships. I say "male" as if to imply I wanna get access to her lesbos cadre.
She looks exactly like a friend I used to know 45-65% of the time and I mention this immediately and she plays silly buns and I think to myself about this for a few months... "okay, so, does she expect me to buy into the coolness so fast that I do not even wonder how all this background info is ready at hand? but she expects me to say out loud, "GIVE ME A BAG, HOLY SHIT, IT'S BEEN LIKE FIVE YEARS," which is true, but I didn't really think it was worth my time, and besides, no one told me the deal about it. Neither did she. But she did act all snippy about shit, when I said, "hey, about this Gonzalez vs. UDV (2006)" decision, she's completely innocent and barely registering, "what's that?" Oh. And can you get me something with serial numbers on it for my offspring? Let's put your theory to the test by setting you up for a trip to the station, let's see that happen! (It wouldn't, it doesn't, and if it hadn't been all completely one way, I make every sacrifice, I get zero questions answered, I might have been able to work something out. As it was, I found it difficult to credit their opinion seriously when ignorance is feigned quite often. "Child Protective Services? Why would they care about cannabis cartridges? It's legal now!" Also, I read microexpressions, and also, I'm smart, and really, I love these people. I can just envision them now, reading this, simmering in extra-fury, maybe? But perhaps realizing that, not only do different cultures love differently, two different loves can meet together and make a third way to love. The Hungarian-Austrian Binary Polka is a good example. Oh, well, yeah, I do love his kid. So I won't tell him what a shitbag his father is... at first.
It's not like he doesn't already know? However, my father was a Pisces too, and we both knew the same struggle. Easily-wounded ego. Oceans of filthy secrets. Poor me, how dare you have sex with someone else who doesn't give me money--because I'm renting my son, of course--who has sex with plenty of other people, sure... except, I did it without needing drugs myself, and I didn't care what she was on, and I genuinely love the whole thing still to this day.
It's sweet how it is thought that not telling me useful information while still expecting me to pony up cash was gonna fly. They had incomes, resources, and benefits. They -assumed- I had benefits that I was lying about, and that I should be generous, and more to the point, I should have had a structure that I could break down for them on a whiteboard in terms that it would be easy for a drunken, methheaded lout could understand, but still something we could float past a skip-tracer with.
"I don't know if I am a Mason or not, actually," was a true statement at the time. Right now, I know I'm not a mason, I'm a wordsmith, but I'm not a mason, fuck no. And some kid (a year older, everyone was always a year older) named Mason Kirby saw that my mother had written my initals "M.K." on each of my Crayolas.. like, holy shit mom, it's first day of kindergarten? Even I have the presence of mind to notice, Jesus, Mom, are you nuts? Way to overcompensate for something, but I guess you needed something to distract yourself from that misscarriage that happened when I was 2 or 3, or 4? I remember for sure, that there was a happy time.
It was brief. Someone fucked up bad. I wondered what could possibly explain it? Okay, yeah, that would be enough to bring sadness forever and why I remember lying in a queen size bed at the age of 7 in a two floor house with 4 bedrooms and no friends... like, at all, and my mother's sister lived over on the other side of the lake, you did? In Kikeland. I mean, Kirkland. Where Costco is headquartered. She liked that their brand was the place where she lived. She liked that, she said to me and smiled.
I never brought up Freemasony out loud to anyone in my "family" until my late 30's--I had found out about the at all while searching The Internet for "who killed kennedy?" which I thought I nice way to test my first use of Alta Vista. (It was.) So I decide one day, after mulling it over thusly (I had so many options), I go with this:
"Aunty (Name_Withheld_Because_She's_a_private_harpy Elder Female Shrew), have you ever heard of Freemasony?" I owned it. The diminutive form of her familiar title, with a Y on the end like I am a fucky childishy tippity-top tappy-tippity (President T knows what I mean, a Tip Top Child like Barron was before he was given a killshot (pretty terrifying idea that they could do that to Mr. Trump... because, what, did you go for the jugular on that one, or what? Oh btw, he's alright, he's a golem. Very fashionable these days, dead people can come and go as they please, and that kid is -how- tall? Okay, right, well... I'm still not gonna buy him any weed cartridges, not because it would be illegal, but because the obvious next step is to cultivate a weed for everything but especially CRYSTAL METH because that is one very easy way to catch a 10-year-charge. Cheap to make. Small size, big bang for buck.
And she isn't feeling secure enough to just grab a bag of... I don't even know what they call it, but, it was like this, I didn't really care once I could tell everyone was on high alert, like I ask my Aunt not "What do you think of Freemasonry" because that would imply that I have that kind of forethought at hand, right? Anywway, they all thought I was stupid because i feel for the "a hooker likes me" test and failed it and just ruined everyone's life, right? Shit, I'm sure they knew.
But would they confront? No, no confrontation happened, but what did happen, was a slow, building, boiling fury. Oh, really. This was that big a deal, huh? Hrrm. Maybe it was as big a deal as not being willing to buy a sports car suddenly offereed to me? Second date talk. "Hey! Wanna buy my car?" Whoa. Why doesn't the kid who pretty quickly there after crashes the other vehicle want it? I don't even remember the reason. I guess someone let a white person smoke a pcp-laced cigarette in there before being garotted? Honestly, who knows? But whatever it was, anytime something was offered, it was obviously to my detriment, was not something typically a person would rationally do, and was presented in the context of, "help me out, and if you're not, you're just being an asshole, and you're not displaying real love/loyalty/respect, now I will call you a cocksucker in front of a minor child because... well, by that point, if I were reporting back, y'all would already have been fucked, right? Except I said I wasn't. Was I unconcsiously reporting back? Look, what the fuck... the people were and are certainly, very hunted.
Some of them have, of course, gone way too far. Also too far: some places some people get kidnapped to, not like, a couple states over, like, different dimensions of planar reality that require offerings to get into. At least, you know, if you're -legit-. If you're not "paying your dues," once again, well, they dont' want that.
So basically they wanted to be treated like a gang of bullying loud mouththugs who abuse women and prey on the week and vulnerable and saw me as both and of no purpose nor diplomatic effort to make an impression on. And so of course, she needed "help."
"Help" was surely obtained. N'est-ce pas? Yeah, big surprise for me too. Hey, has word spread? They were gonna kill her and blame me. Prefer to blame me and kill her, I bet, but you know how it is, sudden quantum entanglement, and, surprise, guess what: she's immortal anyway, if she chooses, and I imagined it worked better until she told me so many fucking lies that she lost any semblance of abilty to call me a guru or a guide or even a gee,whiz, okay, yeah, you got me, I"m not allowed to say, we're blah blah blah Masons blah blah. And at that point, it all makes sense.
Not allowed to say by... what? Oh, memory engrams. MK-ULTRA plus implants. Naturally, I can get rid of those too, and this is not an encouraged topic of discussion until a few years later when I discover that it's much, much easier to start yanking that shit out when I see them stopping rational thought, because after 3 years of me not really paying much attention, because, I didn't want drugs, I wanted a person who I could trust with my areas of concern, alright? And, boy-howdy! I sure could trust her with them all, right? And then, could I trust my psychokinetic shielding? Well, yes, in a sense.
It wasn't until I thought about bouncing things back automagically that I decided to add mirroring. I forget what the moment was. But it was some fucked off thing, and it was suggested that I was not displaying the right kind of respect.
Well, why do we think that is? Because I knew why, they were all telepathic and hive-mind linked, and they were all in denial so it never occurred to them that they might have done shitloads of meth more than I have. As well as had more than one person around to talk to. Am I really telepathic, or can I just hear Jesus whisper to me what He really thinks of you Puny scum? Ugh, terrible joke He says and I shouldn't capitalize the P because it'll make someone want to rape, oh and by the way, I know a lot, a lot, and a lot more about what has happened.
And after a certain point, the only reason I was there was to help Grapefruit with her sons. Not her children. Boys only. I was not encouraged to mingle with the womenfolk. Because, okay sure, that's respectful. There's nothing quite like being excluded from normal interaction. Because obviously it wouldn't be appropriate for us to do drugs together, or talk, we would have to immediately breed, and I hadn't demonstrated sufficient resources for anything but to buy weed cartridges (it was always carts, one time on 420 one year I said, sure, Ill get a joint, oh and by the way, uh... I forget, but it was something very clever that meant YOU ARE FOOLING ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, but apparently there was still some problem with saying things out loud. Seems like a great place to test how special clergical communication privileges work? Well, why would they? They can read minds! The one who was 15 in 17 or 18 is now.. 82? I guess she get around. Actually I'm just kidding, as well, as, keeping private things private. So of course she won't tell me what's been happening. For one thing, she skipped past it, because reasons, and for another, she'll go back as soon as she can figure out how to explain why she feels guilty about having not been bred by me. I think it's because being bred is something that isn't supposed to happen that way.
And also because that was a different body, but with a mind transplant/doubling so that there'd be two eyewitness stories of me being a statutory rapist. I mean, there's precedent, right? Now, you might ask, what the fuck is with these people? Well, it's like this for sure: I was smarter than all of them put together, but I didn't recognize the value in helping them become smarter. Like, all at once. Magic spell, fuck it.
Violate consent, why not? Since everyone loves rape so much. Like, it was an insult that I wasn't trying to or that i was g*y and even if, so, why? Isn't she worth a glance? Like I have had this notion before, and it's not happening right now. Like, I asked about the time when suddenly, mysteriously, all at once, two minor children I barely knew, suddenly start blowing up my Instagram--I look at this and think, "holy mother of God, this cannot be authentic and if it is, they are high as balls and, well, cool, but also the most obvious test for Court-mandated reportership, amIrite? What, sounds paranoid, huh? Well, yes, they are all paranoid schizophrenics. THESE ARE ALGONQUINS. And they're conquered, property of the U.S. Government, and I bet you didn't know that? I can assure you, they are not forgetting any time soon. Do they want to be free? Well, they are, just get out of the body and go... wherever. What are you, bored of being a goddam teleporting shapeshifting demi-g-d walking amongst the human pop? I don't know. This isn't me, here.
I am tired of walking amongst a field of dorks that doesn't see what is coming, tho. Like, for example, since Christmas, I have been fully isolated. Because that's what someone is supposed to do, right? No, fuck no, because I have psychokinetic shielding and I have special clergical privileges and I wasn't mad at all... I had just had enough of being thought of as disposable. I took of my rings and threw them at her on the bed--she jumped up, grabbed the rings and threw them into the next room -past- me... oh, okay, well, I guess she was prepared. Was it a gag? Was she pissed at me about something? Oh, well, too bad she never taught me how to read her fucking mind in Astral or whatever the fuck she was doing when not grabbing other men's dicks attached to "but it was your head though," because that could have come in really handy when it came to not being driven into separate agonies by thuggy psyop teams, which I usually deal well with but when full on security-vulnerabilities are revealed that are so brazen in their scope, that the little matter of "you left to early and you didn't tell me you were taking a symbiant and you were raped and strangled and murdered while carrying a passenger and I'm sure that was a fun time, and did lead to a successful recovery, and I don't mention this part often, do I? No, I don't. And, would you like to know why?
Because it really was my fault. And I had no idea that anyone would be so stupid as to tell me to give them a ride, because no money, then to suddenly generate money, and then to be in a panic to leave early, and to have no ability to explain why... oh, well, whatever it is, it's possible that this whole "unconditional love thing" works. Clearly I am not thought of without conditions. So, what was I here for? Help with sons. Does that include the one I didn't know about until I got a download later? Because I did not understand what I was supposed to do while she was obviously doing something stupid that she was gonna regret.
For example: at somepoint, everything happening was being done in order to "make me jealous." And that point was passed pretty fucking far back in the past. Oh, you were conceived here, and the you lived six years there, and that's special, and you're a clone and don't realize it, huh? Or you just want to remind me of how everything in life that existed, people lined up to give them to a legit Royal Princess, she didn't mention it, but that's not necessary, and maybe she wasn't? Like seriously. They were all douchebags but for her, and she had no idea how privileged in life she was.
And I was supposed to take substantial chunks of the only money that I was ever going to see coming from my parents.. .and and shower her ungrateful family with it. Seriously. Like they were helping me. Noooo... she wanted the help with her "boys." No, don't help the girls, Jack. You're not qualified. It was literally the most insulting thing I had ever seen.
And, whose idea was this? I don't know, but... let me guess. They had Googled me. Shocking, I know, but I've seen this kind of thing before. I AM FUNCTIONALLY ILLITERATE AND YET I MUST INSTANTLY BELIEVE. There's a memory engram implant that does that kind of thing. How do I know about implants?
Well, it's like this, someone has to, and at first I couldn't figure out, okay, NO CONTACT EMERGENCY, but, like, no telepathy either? Why is everyone so mad that I figured out that, holy shit, they really had tried to trade me to the DEA in exchange for the sister? Like, I guess, sure... if I, like, was worth anything? But did these people in fact think that I was breaking any law? I guess so... because I suppose they thought I was vulnerable to a criminal investigation. Well, try this thought out for a spin: I take the minimal effort required to obey the law as best as I can, and I check in with Source as a joyous occasion. Or God. G-d. Some people are dicks. I'm Kuczifer. LIAR BLASPHEMER LIAR. Five bibles? Jesus, I'm glad I was prepared for that kind of thing, because that's the layer of encrypted bullshit, because these MK agents ... empathy is only present if some a suit in the chain remembers to add a dose of arrowroot.
I have seen why it was important to spam the forum with "IV" "METH" "JUNKY" "NEEDLES" as it simply wouldnt do if people were aware that I'm a close and careful research of just about anything, as why would I rush through figuring something out? "Honey, let's spin The Big Wheel RIGHT AWAY!" Oddly, this is rarely said about certain sex acts, and, here's why:
Once it was figured out how to, by demographic average, make male penis taste rather less than the absolute mean median of savory, barring sudden explosions of attractiveness, like when a man is clearly looking at her shoes and his absentmindedly stroking his wallet--oh, wait, maybe that would be repellent? Just fingering isn't really a sign of
committal. Anyway, as far as I have noticed, there's not a whole lot of marketing done on substances that are not just aphrodisiacs, but specially, make a human female hunger for male cock.
Not being interested in this subject matter other than as biting social commentary and well-aimed skewering of totalitarian control and its need for totesecret shit, if there was a way to make most women find the notion unplesant ("What do you think I am? A whore?" /absent-mindedly stroking her husband's 401(k) with her own that she keeps under one acrylic nail... I wonder, is there anyone who really likes getting their acrylic nails done by someone who likes to do it more than someone who is doing it? Listen, it's just basic chemistry. Probably not a lot of money in it, but where there's a will, there's likely no discussion of fellatio coupled to it, not without reward or recompense or compensation or something.
I wonder, which is less appealing... being paid to suck someone off, or having someone spray a concoction made from --what else? puppy dog tails and cold, hard cash-- into your face. Why not both? Yes, why not indeed! Why not pay a woman to go shopping for you? Or, pay someone to drive 400 miles and into a brick wall gate near a prison, as I guess, they'd just put you right in, if you drove directly into a brick wall and you happened to have an ounce of pure viagra on you, they probably wouldn't be that big a deal, as how hazardous could a substance that makes cocks hard be to have lying around? Cocks get hard. That's what they do. Until they don't. And then, you yell at that non-functioning organ and... well, maybe just shoot this one in the face with a plate of spaghetti, obviously with meatballs, come on, this is literature, this commentary here!
I remember being asked to demonstrate my ability to produce the experience of oral pleasure. I guess I did okay? Great enough that there was no attempt to give any direction. And the other way around, I explained, oh, what need for that could there possibly be? I protested hardly any more vigorously than that, and she thought it over briefly and totesagreed, and that was my test, and that was not the only test for lesbos I have been given, but it was certainly the easiest.
Once seen, the lack of desire is not easy to forget, although there's not much need, unless a person is really fixated on... you know, whatevah.
AND ALL OF THIS IS BASIC CHEMISTRY, COURTESY OF THE U.S. uh... NAVY. SURE. WHY NOT. ANYWAY. THEY GOT LITTLE BITTY DOSES OF "MEDICATION," WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A "DRUG"? THAT'S A DEROGATORY TERM, A NEGATIVE ONE, A HOLD OVER FROM THE OPIUM WARS IN THE LATE 19TH CENTURY, AND THAT SHIT CAN SURE GET OUT OF HAND.
SPEAKING OF GETTING OUT OF HAND, AFTER I GOT OUT OF JAIL, I WAS TESTED TO SEE HOW SUSCEPTIBLE TO DRUG ADULTERATION I AM. WHEN THEY FIND OUT THAT I AM PLENTY SMART ENOUGH FOR THAT AND THERE WAS NO GUARATNEE I WASN'T CAPTAIN BUSTYOU FROM PLANET THUGGEE PRIME, THEY DIDN'T REALLY LIKE ME SO MUCH.
If it's too much effort to swindle a person into giving up their property, and it's far, far too much effort to just, like, suck their dick, it's probable that something could be done. Something that isn't too much effort, I guess? Like shooting them and not bothering to dig a grave, or telling someone to go get something they don't know anything about after being alone with their dying parents for years and never meeting many people who were easy to get along with even if I were sucking their dick.
What I'm trying to say is: the real reason I'm just sitting here with zero going on is that I have performed an end run around certain safeguards... like, I accept the doodler to show up and suddenly champion for Justice, "yeah but it's illegal" and "yeah, that's according to you," and it's come to the end of my tolerance: countries that are not present, actively engulfed in flames.
That Grapefruit is stuck with the bottom-run spook who thinks that I should have committed what would have been a crime for me at the time, as... I had no need or use for that much, and I didn't even know what the difference was, and now that I have learned, I am amazed. Couldn't tell me the most basic facts of the circumstance... but expected me to go out and get it for her, and snarled at me to shriek that I was "holding out" on her. It made zero sense. Especially after I saw her reluctantly reach into her bodice and reveal a 2nd stash... one that was significantly stronger. She clearly didn't want to share it with me... since I had been misinformed, and she had been misinformed, that I had I.V.ed crystal methamphetamine "lots" of tim
