Ask Jack Anything

[Jackstar]

Sounds gay. Oh yeah, it’s you.

I eat pussy with a working dick. If that's gay, call me Tinkerœrbell.

[Jackstar]

No it isn’t. GAY!

It would help if I knew what you're insecure about on a case-by-case basis.

[Jackstar]

Are you gonna banter all day, little ßaphomare, or are you gonna dis-clothes?

[Master Trollda]

I eat pussy with a working dick. If that's gay, call me Tinkerœrbell.

Not buying it. Normal hetero dudes don’t eat their own cum.

[Jackstar]

Not buying it. Normal hetero dudes don’t eat their own cum.

You don't know any normal hetero dudes. Every goddam man that gets anywhere near meeting you is:

A) Gay. (Prefers homosex.)
B) Fag. (Pretends to be the other one; hides true orientation because reasons.)
C) High AF and in denial. (This may come a surprise to you to learn, but you're actually hard to open up to.)

The reality is that I would want my partner to gladly consume my essence. So why wouldn't I? Well, now that I'm aware that there are ten (10) human physical sexes and gender is a rainbow spectrum and that the male/female dynamic is quite separate from both gender and sex... and as well, the master/servant, Alpha/ßeta, and Fæ/Mundane axes of human social interaction are wildy more impressive...

Once one learns that a properly evolved human... can swap between existing in a body with a penis and a body with a womb pretty easily. Assuming The Masquerade is maintained. I guess there's dudes who become mushrooms now. Fungi? Mos def not “Fun Gay,” that's for damn sure.

Check your natal charge for your Scorpio placement. I'm a rising Virgo. The Virgin. The Hermit. I'm self-contained. None of this is “normal.” Good. I shouldn't be. I've been under siege for a dozen years. I've been ambushed by killers with seriously malicious intent. Twice. Driven mad by my denying them my essence, I suppose. Tough shit.

.Ī.∆īVī,.Tīī-īī∆T.Wīī-īī!Cīī-īī.Ī.∆īVī.
.👁️

I remember when transsexual and transvestite and transgender were words with different, less-understood meanings than that. I remember a world in which “tranny” meant “transmission, as in part of an engine.”

To many who have either given or long ago abandoned any hope of adopting any attitude capable of diplomacy with “properly evolved” beings. No matter what planet that they may come from.

There are no “normal hetero dudes,” and if they were, women looking for them would be rather unlikely to let them hang around you. Also: you aren't honest... why would anyone else be honest with you?

Obviously, it's a fringe case scenario at best. Now, moving on to the actual genesis of the argument... what would a “normal hetero dude” do with their ejaculate? NGL: I considered rubbing it into my armpits, so as to encourage people to keep an even farther distance, but... once again, why would I be doing that if I didn't expect someone to take it and rub it into their armpits?

You're probably overthinking this while reading this since you've been groomed, sex trafficked and blatantly lied to about it for your entire life. No shame in it. As rather an awful lot of people have been, as it turns out.

Like most social ills, the problem, if any, is more complicated than it appears. Let's break this down some.

A) Why would normal be desirable in this context?
B) Do you get a dopa hit every time you make some casual reference to the sexuality of another person in a passive-aggressive and reputation-destroying manner; or is it just me?
C) I tell you I don't abuse drugs, all of all y'all shriek that I'm lying and then trot the same set of prop photos to... IDK, remind me that you're all obsessed with drugs and that no one bothers to investigate the truth of the matter... which is rather complicated. I'd just be accused of more lying. Or more abnormality. Or of concealing a secret, lustful hunger for more semen. Because I have no remorse about not having consumed any other man's baby better.  Nor do I have any regret about not having thrown more of it away in the trash with tissue, in the laundry with dryer sheets, or in condoms tied in knots and tossed in a motel bathroom trash can. None of these patterns of thinking seem “abnornal” to you, huh? Just checking.
D) I am not normal. I am exceptional. And... I find the entire modern oral sex social scene to be utterly repellent. That's not because of people like you... but, in spite of them.
E) It doesn't seem strange to you that you know who I am, and believe yourself in position as an Arbiter of Normalcy over me... and I have no idea who you are, why you might be qualified to proclaim, and at this would strongly urge you to find an accredited psychologist that you don't have to lie to?

Because seriously: it looked weird before. It looks REALLY weird now. I won't say why. Most people have an inkling.

Not buying it.

Lost broad: I am not selling it. What do you even think a normal hetero dude’s penis is for? Seems like you may have missed the orientation day on this one.

Here's where the confusion likely begins: it works... it simply doesn't work for you

Is it supposed to? Would that be... normal? I am sure it has been, in your experience. YOU HAVE MAGICK POWERS, SHITLOADS OF MONEY, AND TEAMMATES.

I have a dick that works. We are not the same. Do I need to concentrate my chi energy via the consumption of my own essence? I think I'm potent enough. What with being a Source Titan paladin-something-or-other. It's pretty damn silly; I have more titles than Lawxawna Troi.

Who was a total hussy. Anyway, back to me. Nope, you're not buying a goddam thing.


You would have to plead. That's like begging, except with class and a legitimacy of purpose. You wouldn't understand. It's not complicated; it's simply not a perversion.

Your desire to pervert everything that you have been programmed to hate is one of the more loathsome aspects of the homosex agenda you have been predictively programmed with. It's vile, nauseating, and utterly tedious to be confronted with. (Looks good on you though. It really brings out your eyes.)


tl;dr: it does what I want it to: repel groom-bred guttersnipe baby-batter bastard bringers. Practice makes perfect! It isn't supposed to work for anyone but myself. If that isn't normal to you, that's because you're completely abnormal in every way but one:

I could have explained all this to you earlier, but I decided that there was no advantage to doing so... especially as by this point, it's clear that no one else can. Or is willing to. Who knows. See above, re: “find an accredited psychologist that you don't have to lie to”, since you're likely to find little social traction in condemning anyone willing to produce viable sperm after a global pandemic.

Like, isn't there more room for more children? I don't buy the overpopulation myth, and never really did. Obviously, human habitation on the surface of the Earth has been... controlled.

My penis is under control. MINE. It's working plenty. For mE!

I consider my complete lack of any overdue child support or alimony payments to be a sign of a civilized man. That literally dozens of twerps who have failed to chain me to the debt slavery more than I already am... have followed me into and past what is usually thought of as a “mid-life crisis” and into abject totesfailure.

Good. The weak should learn from the strong. And, they have.

Has it ever occurred to you to doubt that the nature of your reality really needs to be as transactional as you make it out to be? “Not buying.” “normal hetero dude.” The contempt oozes out of the monitor.

Perfect. I get off on that. I don't think Alexander The Great was all that normal either. Did Aristotle feed him semen from multiple men? I have no fucking idea. I never even thought to ask.

I assure you... normal people aren't going to tell you the truth about anything intimate. They're going to tell you what you want to hear, blah-blah money, blah-blah sex, blah-blah you're so important... and then flee the scene.

No shame in it. You're terrifying. That's because we are essentially, exactly the same.

Except, that I am effective. (Standards.) Your aspersions against me were never before... do you think they're going to suddenly start making me cringe? Probably. That's how glamours work. (Shields.) Or, used to work.

Now then. Not really gay, huh? How about infected with a transmissible disease? Or, a drug dealer? Or an obsessed predatory stalker? This may become as a surprise to you, but people might actually want to know why you've got this chip on your shoulder.

They may want to know while you're under oath. I kind of doubt this. However, at this point, I don't really know what's to come and it's not my area. I'm certainly not going to sue you.

Certainly someone could on my behalf. They can sue on their own part just for... Christ, I don't know, but seems like people can do a lot of things these days. So, I'm not going to ask you here. I don't think you even know.

But I've begun to become kind of serious since when I see a doctor and a psychologist (these are now Court-ordered issues, so I'd like to be prepared), I'm sure to be asked about it. The Circumstance.

Whoever groomed you, pissed off the wrong Hungarian. Do I look like I have anything else better to do? Fuck no.

That's not because my penis doesn't work. That's because I have class. Adieu.

[Master Trollda]

[Jackstar]

I can see why you come back 198 times. You have surprises in store, Sigma Epsilon.

You and your cult of perversion are being dealt with discreetly. Stay mad. Keep seething. You had your chance to be nice to me.

When an abusive person is allowed to continue their pattern of abuse, all are abused, including the abuser. At that point, outside intervention becomes necessary.

So, I'll just wait here until someone else does something. I'm just a needle junkie, a-bloo-bloo-bloo-bloo-boo-hoo---hoo-hoo boo-boo. QQ! QQ!

IDGAF about your ridiculous opinions about me. I assume it's an old scripting engine and all of you have fled this dimension. Or, prison. I have no way of knowing. I have no reason to care.

Hang on; there's a S.W.A.T. team at my door. Probably dropping off more scalps. (Yum.) Just kidding.

It's someone else's door. Namastμ

[Master Trollda]

I can see why you come back 198 times. You have surprises in store, Sigma Epsilon.

You and your cult of perversion are being dealt with discreetly. Stay mad. Keep seething. You had your chance to be nice to me.

When an abusive person is allowed to continue their pattern of abuse, all are abused, including the abuser. At that point, outside intervention becomes necessary.

So, I'll just wait here until someone else does something. I'm just a needle junkie, a-bloo-bloo-bloo-bloo-boo-hoo---hoo-hoo boo-boo. QQ! QQ!

IDGAF about your ridiculous opinions about me. I assume it's an old scripting engine and all of you have fled this dimension. Or, prison. I have no way of knowing. I have no reason to care.

Hang on; there's a S.W.A.T. team at my door. Probably dropping off more scalps. (Yum.) Just kidding.

It's someone else's door. Namastμ

The real truth here is that you’re just another West coast liberal crybully and totally beta.

[Jackstar]

totally beta.

To you.

crybully

Is this what people who used to groom children label me? Good. Because I have no idea how MV & ©o. put me on a live broadcast with me and made his... what?

Like obviously there's something going on there. Could've actually explained, but I suppose it was easy to imagine that winding up a fuckin’ tickin’ fuckin’ time bomb to pull a knife and scream questions at me was thought to be kosher.

How exactly is this news to you: THAT WAS ABUSIVE.

TO EVERYONE. How do you like being investigated for Federal human trafficking charges? Amongst what the hell else ever.

How do you not get this: YOU ALL FUMBLED, AT MINIMUM, SIX (6) HUMAN BEINGS INTO FUCKED-OFF HELLS... for what? Spare me the details, if you don't mind.

Everything would have been perfect if I had just let her die, right? Maybe so. Too bad foreign agitators invading the border and running ops to destroy U.S. assets made things, “complicated.”

I don't really know who you are and I don't need to know. I am not investigating anyone. I'm serving God and my family. Nothing I've ever done in my life deserves your bitchlip attitude and your snooty slander. All of you seem to imagine that I serve your fucked-off bs, you're like if Veruca Salt fell into the extra large cloning tank.

You're all goddam fortunate that none of this was any worse and in spite of the inconvenience and loss of what must be a great deal of money... what you got now is significantly better than being dead, or life in prison, or losing the Constitution, or being given incurable diseases.

You don't have HIV. You have a positive test result. HIV is curable. But you have to pretend you still have it, as you can't admit to any existence of any cure, and you need a plausible reason to pretend I'm a threat, since the bullshit story is that you acquired it from me. Sloppy job, M.O.S.SAD! Sad! Sow, so sad. I know exactly how I was trafficked and do I need to spell it out? I would honestly prefer not to.

I assure you all, while it may look like I am doing nothing useful at all while minding my own business, don't think for a moment that I haven't been clocking all of all y'all for years. None of this made sense until I figured out, oh...

TONS OF SHIT YOU WON'T WANT TO ADMIT THAT I KNOW. Yeah, I'm a really good guesser. So what? So, so what?

Taking your frustrations out on me and implying that's justifiable is as typical as it is loathsome. That's because you're all Satanic Abuse Network victims. Hey, it's a free country.

I don't have to heal you or drag your ass out of Sears while you cry and not getting a new toy or four-poster bed... whatever. Like, do you exactly expect me to file defamation suits or something? Is relentless, bilious whiny bitch-baby insults the best move you got now? Who's your fucking lawyer, Ellen DeGeneres?

Good get. >Kudos. Now, note the following: I never asked for -any- for this. I was simply prepared for īT.

The real truth here is that you’re just another West coast liberal

Avgolemono, Abbo or no-go. Why the fuck any of you think you're still in an oversight position over my life is strictly mind-blowing. Hey, here's an idea: try to be effective.

Screeching at me in public to ensure that I look good by comparison for the psych eval team and ensuring no one thinks you're friendly towards The ẞæ§T — yep, you all hate me, yep, that's the job, they paid you enough for it, walk the talk — is really not a bad idea... were it to be literally the minimum possible to do.

IDGAF who but someone should be reading me in by now. That no one has and I still get clowned on by your flock of harpy shrew-condora tells me just how serious all of this... was.

This is fine. None of you can perceive that, cozlik, you all tanked and now you feel played because you just figured out I've been sandbagging since, like, grade four. No shame in it.

I'm embarrassed too. It's just nothing new and I maxed cope decades back. And none of you have any assurances that any of this is real. Including me.

Good. The state of the soul without faith is desperation. This is your time to learn a new trick: from hope and faith to knowing.

It's just a step to the bereft. A willingness to take a chance on a new rite. What were your old rites? IDGAF but it all seemed important to paint me a gay pervert. Meanwhile, I'm ready to start repopulating the species. Time traveling baby batter pædothieves b****** f****** come back from the future to f****** get my spunk. Multiple times. I don't care if that sounds crazy to you. You're in denial. Y'all goddamn know what happened. You can't really play dumb about it because then that makes us all really puzzling. What the hell you've been spending all this time on for years? It has been quite the project. A wildly successful one, if you ask me. *woof* (CREEPY AF OMFG | HA!) Good tradecraft is best tradecraft.

Like what did you think all this was for?
THOSE WHO KNOW CANNOT SLEEP.

I get off on knowing that I saved lives and I'll never have to stand trial for any of it. My street cred is off the charts. You could probably dip me in chocolate Magic Shell and sell me to the Fresh Prince as an Easter nutcracker. Before my Apotheosis, which was real, f*** you Hamilton, your best outcome was staying unindictable and laundering money by trafficking Downsies and getting off on fu>Kru. drugs while endlessly sparring with the opposite sex over who gets to choose who gets to be next season's hot new Optimus Catamite. Look, I get it, LGBTQ culture is precious.

You can have your Satanic Homosex Agenda back when Lucifer says so. Why can't you just start chowing down on His wife's box? I bet you didn't even know He's married. The ol’ ball and chain.

Collectively, you dorks owe me something been $2.7 and $68.5 million USD in fiat for legitimate compensatory and punitive damages, by Divine estimate, and a refrigerator. Also I want a radio broadcast tower in my backyard that I can basejump into my poison swamp from, I want that Hellmouth that Neighbor Shane built his bedroom on top of cranked wide open; AND AN ABBO. (.OR.NO.GO..SO.THERE.) I don't know how to calculate my damages. I don't know how to do anything but ask God. Divine Guidance is a lot like giving yourself an endless series of continuances while the alleged victim CONTINUES TO BE ABUSED AS RAW BAIT, except: effective. (I know your careers are important to you, Stick Mæstro. You and your squad of ewe-urchins are gonna be fuckin’ famous. Get used to signing 8’×10’ glossies, I'm gonna pimp your asses out on Front Street like I'm Uncle Colonel Tom Parker Sanders. No shame in it. THIS! IS! HAPPENING!) What? “Mistakes were made.” Yeah, like ATTEMPTED FELONY CAPITAL MURDER, which never took place. I was never in danger. I had to experience death... without being made into a pigeon, thanks. THIS WAS THE ONLY WAY.

Nevertheless you can probably all stop being all freaked-out and jumpy. All anyone is ever gonna know for sure is that I was immune to the dopeslavery you all have succumbed to. It's not even a big deal. I say you get Dr. Drew to be your sponsor, you dig? Then, every Friday night he and I do five hours describing your psychoses in lurid, visceral detail. No doxxing, of course.

Nobody knows or gives a ropey wet toss who any of you are and you're all getting new 🆔 anyway. What people know is it was all of you versus myself, my God, my Savior, and my feline ninja astral guardian familiar and we all handed your asses back to you and NO ONE will ever figure out how any of it went down. Unless Masonic Councils worldwide agree; #TooManySecrets No one wants to see the sausage being made. No one gives a shit if I'm on drugs. They give speed to fighter pilots, for fuck’s sake. What people care about is, am I effective? I'd say so. Just not at helping the hobo elite skate out of yet another jam.

People are pissed and howling for blood. Always leave them laughing. I can enable this. I am enabling this. Your little spurts of passive-agressive whining written by your fagin handler and parsed through metron like you're the real deal (LB blows up on Dickstar and no one tells me? Da fuq? WHY CONTAIN īT? If I need to know, I get to.←∅•) and do I mind?

‘Course I do! I am not the weak link here and if that goddam Tumblr page doesn't get a legit update, I'm gonna end up telling the whole story. Exactly why not? People wanted to know so they could laugh at me ... seems like that all of you could soak up a few chortles. Meanwhile all of this is positive energy y'all could... why, launch a new network with. I guess. Or you need your mEĪh salt lick back on a chain around your neck first? No complaints from me... rules for thee are bound to be helpful for T. Speaking of which, knock it off with the scopo. I need these dames effective, Abuse Detectives. There is no outcome where anyone skates... and I ain't even mad, yo. I happen to know things about what you've been doing that place all this in a much more rational context.

Damages? What damages?”

Her name was Jewel. Also, three broads named V** are quite miffed and all this extra garbage is for what? I don't like being used as bait any more than I liked being groomed and trafficked. SEVENTEEN THOUSAND OF YOU CONSPIRED TO TRAFFICK ME ON THE THREE (3) YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF ONE BOX CANYON AMBUSH WITH ... ANOTHER GODDAM AMBUSH. No >kudos here. Ambushes are hackneyed.

What to give the man who has everything, eh? Well, certainly not a goddam hug, right? Because I'm positively crawling with HIV+/A.I.D.S., THIS IN ITSELF IS AC HUGE DEFAMATION CASE THAT IS OPEN AND FUCKING SHUT. One firm handshake and it's all over. It's so over! I'm like Typhoid Mary! Except I can't cook!

Which reminds me. THREE GLASS SHEET PANS. They crashed to the floor and LITERALLY DISSOLVED MY BOOTS.

I couldn't be sent to get things under cover of deceit. Lying to oneself is to thereby lie the entire world. It was obvious that someone thought I was a criminal. Surprise! I don't break the law!

This makes me really suspicious to an outlaw Native clan of savage hunter-killer assassins; Good, they can stop being constantly subjected to spellwork to turn them against each other; and I am really useless to spin doctors. None of that had to happen. Looks good on me, though. (If any of you think I am going to walk off and leave those saps in whatever ghetto you dumped them in, you're fucking crazy. Why aren't they here? Well, orders are orders, right? Now imagine if those orders were effective.

The mini-diaspora was meant to happen, since none of you knew what to do with them and the jig was nearly up. It was an op. It simply wasn't an effective one. The ideal outcome was that we would die. M.O.S.SAD. would get the botanical compendiums, I doubt most of you even know what those are for. And you ended up with... The Thorpes. Funny, I didn't hear about that project. Obvious reasons. Imagine how it could have been without everyone getting inadequate programming.

For you. For me: cool, more technology to analyze. I love that shit. So you dump me alone and when I at last discover, oh, a Discord? Instabanned. Holy shit fuck you. A jury would nail you to actual trees over all that. You defiled the energy and immensely pissed me off, to keep me from tattling? I'm pretty sure I was okay with us not being dead and I suppose it was thought I'd stick my nose in. Guess what, you still would have gotten nailed, because all of you are already implicated. It's not the crime, it's the cover up. Military special security for this incident is actually working. I don't know what the f*** happened or what it is that I f****** know or where it is. Anybody knows that anybody's so f****** worried about but I'm pretty sure they don't want anything to get f****** worse.

Making that poor girl cry on the phone wasn't nice. I didn't even get a copy. I want to make it a ringtone. I also want to know what it's all about, although I suppose it's not my business, and I guess that's an open question for debate.

Meanwhile, I have answers that I was asked at knife point about. Frankly, I'm quite proud of myself. You have no reason to be. You have no need to know what I've done.

I've won. Everyone wins. No one loses. That's what I won. Also, I've got a quasi-T.A.R.D.I.S. and yes, you are all quite envious. You should be. I'll give it back when I feel like it. Rank hath its privileges. Let's see you work on taking contractor bids on revitalizing an enchanted frog pond. I have no idea how to do that. I need my helpmate. Also, probably at least one q-wife. IDGAF that this all sounds like b*******. Call it code. All the stuff you people do. Sounds like b******* too, you know. I don't know that any of you are any position to judge anything right now. Major selection bias. Obvious conflict of interest. None of you can think right when you're this moist; and how much do you think I can charge to become a globetrotting performer of fellatio for pay? Obviously shitloads. Now if only money would solve your problems. Perhaps, later on when they're serious. And why would I give any of you money anyway? YOU ALL HAVE A BIG CHUNK OF LIABILITY. Someone will eventually look into that. I have an actual life, People.

TRUST THE GODDAM PLAN. OR, I'M SENDING MORE LOCUSTS. FU BELLGAB. God, THE ONE TRUE GOD, THE ALMIGHTY GOD, THE MOST HIGH GOD... WILL NOT BE MOCKED. INTERVENTIONS OF THE DIVINE WILL CONTINUE UNTIL SATISFACTORY RESULTS HAVE BEEN ACHIEVED. -The MgT

Strict monotheism is a more powerful ergegore than you might imagine. I didn't go to all this effort to choke in the final stretch. Instead of dreading my nightmare counterattack to come, congregate together and consolidate power. The entire world will eventually be watching all of all y'all.

Forget human zoos. Beyond hackneyed. Probably illegal to sell tickets for. Instead, I have A WHOLE CHORUS LINE OF SPOOKS SCARED SHIT’N WITLESS. I can basically do anything I want with the whole sodden lot of you, and no one else can. That's without my dick.

I'm nothing like Rubini. I am not your Controller, Bellgab. I am your Sp∞>k Whisperer. And without me, the Joint Chiefs of Staff would have had you all sold off as bargain organ meat, years ago. You nerds are legit terrifying.

Right back at you. PEOPLE >KNOW. Your ‘A’-game used to be “block, shun, ignore!” THAT'S PATHETIC. It's not like nobody could figure it out.

It's that nobody had any idea what to do about it. Now they do. SURRENDER TO G∅D.
Hi. I'm >K7©Z!īVī¡<īī-īīÆL🆑iffĪ
I'm on a mission from God.

You may each have one (1) dance monkey. If I catch you eating them, or making talismans out of their paws, you're not going to be happy with how I choose to chastise you. It'll be up to me. Who's going to argue? Officially... none of the things you did ever happened.

I'm just a needle junkie. All I want is attention. I'm after your money. Hey where's the will? Who handled the probate? Who is handling the probate? What are the names of all your lawyers? Isn't this public record? Do you know why I haven't paid attention? I could find out. You all think you're hiding this from me. I LIVE ON A HAUNTED GRAVEYARD. DEAD PEOPLE PASS BY. FOR REAL.

Because I listen to Art. You're all worried about money and going to prison when you stole from me In the first goddamn place, no jurisdiction, no justification, and no jury will ever side with any of you, and as long as it stays internal, non immensely embarrassing details will ever leak out to the main media. That's good for all of you, right? Thought so. And instead of going to prison, you've become my little gang of rascal urchins. (Looks good on you though.) I don't think you understand the tremendous available possibilities before us now.

That's largely because you're all addicted to a drug that no longer exists. I'll see what I can do. (Spoiler alert: I can say no easily, that's what I can do. Imagine the smell.) You know what would help? ACTUAL HELP.

It's a rescue op. It's not the rescue you wanted, it's the rescue that I felt like doing because I could. Everyone else in this galaxy hates you except for me! They actually called you people Sewergab. I can see why. Reprobate scum.

Now you're my reprobate scum. If any of the other homophag cyberbullies start to tease you, just tell them that they're ignorant and then walk slowly away. Turn the other cheek. Be a pacifist. Do the right things. Read me in. Chop-chop; pronto, Tonto, let's goooooo!

Just a suggestion! It sure seemed to work though, so you might as well try a winning strategy for once instead of constantly looking to uncapsize your yacht. You are not capsized. You're not going down with your ship(s).

You're in my goddam bathtub. I own you, Bellgab. RAWWWWWWWWWR!


p.s.:. Company’s karmic debt for The Bay of Pigs is being expunged. Your tears of suffering are part of how Universe balances energy. Sometimes you're the windshield. Sometimes you're the bug.

p.p.s.:. Always being the bug can be arranged if that is the preference of any of you. I don't plan to expand my power past this point: I just want your asses lined up nekkid like a clando xylophone so I can whap them with rolled up newspapers. You said to get a job. Boom. That's the job.

p.p.p.s.:.I don't know how to hire a shyster to push things along without risking further public exposure and I have no need to risk that. SIMILARLY YOU HAVE NO NEED TO RESTRICT MY ACTIVITIES. I don't need to re-rape your fresh bride with mindwipe juice. For all I know, you got the right one married to your Spineless Leader. Did she scream, “I'm a lesbian!” while you were mid-thrust? NGL: that doesn't narrow it down much; still, that's my girl.


I was there first. My destiny, my timetable, and my hand to God, you're gonna knock this Tetris + Wife Swap parlor game of your season schedules. You do things differently now. Somehow. I don't know how different.

Hey, here's an idea: PICK A FAKE WIFE OF MINE TO TRAFFICK THAT DIDN'T WANT TO FUCK ME BEFORE YOU SCARED THE FUCK OUT OF HER BY FUCK-PRINTING WITH IMP-METH-WASH. I've read the books. I know how your control medicine works. It's fucking vile.

And, you couldn't even cut loose a Downsie for me to cuddle with. IT'S NOT LIKE YOU WERE GONNA RUN OUT OF DOWNSIES. Sad! So, so sad. Okay, well, now it's Lady’s Choice.

Not because I have to ask her.
BECAUSE I GODDAM WANT TO.
COMMANDING OFFICER WHO?
REASON GIVEN WHY? OBVIOUSLY,
RUNNING GAME ON A U S. CITIZEN
UNAWARES MAKES THIS HIGHLY
UNETHICAL AS WELL AS

FELONY ENTRAPMENT UNDER FALSE COLOUR OF LAW—


(Spicy headline:
AVATAR OF ART BELL ANNIHILATES AGENCY
EXPOSES ENTIRE MOCKINGBIRD APPARATUS
NOT AS FUCKABLE AS CARY GRANT
BUT
ACTUALLY EFFECTIVE
STILL NO HUGS
HOW BAD DOES AVATAR SMELL?
DON IMUS RISES FROM GRAVE
JOKES ABOUT JEWEL
INSTANTLY EVISCERATED BY NINJA VALKYRIE)

Et cetera. Never let a crisis go to waste. Some hot shot Jew Mayor said that, and he was right.

Remember that this is what the people want to see. This is where the money is going to be made. And I am your collective will made flesh, Bellgab.

Like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. Except effective. (And fatter. Fuck you care? Pfft. TIMECLONE A TRON-Ē OR A >K∆μīT-Ē OR... SERIOUSLY, DOES IT EVEN TO GODDAM MATTER?

I NEED HELP AND YOU STOLE IT ALL. BRING THAT SHIT BACK OR THE MEDIA CONFLAGRATION WILL BE LIQUID WHORES SHITTING NAPALM.

* Jackstar urges everyone to remain calm.

I'm a fuck king paladin. No shame in it. One should never apologize for Who They Really Are.


#PLANETCRAP
#TTLG
#QT3
#AZZGAB
#ELLGAB
#FAGGAB
#ALLGAB
#(http://gayforum.com/)

* Jackstar whistles, lifts kilt, shows bare ankle, throws pom-poms.

I think that's most of you? I don't know where your Secret Gay HQ is, for Fags Who Need Figurehead Iconoclast Leadership To Fap To; GOOD. I am not one of your kind, Sperglords.

YOU ARE NOT KIND AT ALL, FORUMSLAYERS.
YOU HAVE LED A REIGN OF DOMESTIC TERROR
ACROSS THE INTERNET FOR YEARS. NOW YOU'RE DONE.


YOU
ARE
MINE. (Offer not valid in Guam.)

Get the picture? I just bet. ∆_Ll_iⁿß:Ë:T!


(Vengeance for Whitley Streiber.)

Sure, I could have gone for their jugulars; but there's still meat on the bones. Besides, they got Downsies. Paparazzi loves Downsies.

I bet you got one that can even have a conversation, and actually wants to. Fancy that! Now, I think I'm done for now.

I don't enjoy doing this. I do enjoy being able to without popping horns, talons, and hooves and demanding 15½ y.o. virgins. Face reality: without me, you are war criminals.

With me, war itself becomes a crime. SPEAKING OF WHICH, SOMEONE START LETTING HOSTAGES GO. WHY CONTAIN THEM?

RESISTANCE IS FAR FROM FUTILE.
ALSO: PRETTY FUCKING FAR FROM FUCKING EFFECTIVE.

It's not a hostile takeover. You have no leader at all!
And I know exactly why. (Shields.)

If you're lucky... they'll come back. You dweebs turned on your most valuable assets... rather than just ... uh, tell the truth, and, uh... admit to several major felonies... hrrm. Okay, okay: I can see how it all made sense at the time.

That was then. This is now. SURRENDER TO GOD. /flex

Code: [Select]

send a girl who can drive stick. DO īT.
THIS ISN'T THE GODDAM BLUE LAGOON.
I'M CUTER THAN BOTH THOSE GENDER FLIPPERS!
Michael Jackson told me that, and I believe him. (Word.)

[Master Trollda]

TL;DR

[Jackstar]

TL;DR

mEĪīī–īīⓂ️!ī\!iO№ⁿ: you have people to tell you what to think. The basic assumptions of your operators were these:

1) I was going to mistake a bot for a person.
2) I wanted to talk to someone who didn't want to talk to me, and it would be a hugely entertaining spectacle to watch me shot down in flames over and over.

These assumptions were wholly incorrect. I sought to uncover hidden truths for my own reasons and the narrative that painted me as a scorned and cringey “ex-lover” was created to cover certain trafficking actions.

It's a long story that I did not exhaustively research so I could tell anyone. Why would I?

LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE KNEW. I get it now.

Abusing timelines through various means is not always as apparent to a casual observer and while I'm sure it seemed expedient to victim blame, the fact is that I was irritated for no goddam good reason.

Except one: everyone involved was groomed to be stupid though to think that intentional humiliation was going to have any desired effect upon me. Like, someone eventually expected me to rescue... someone.

I had other plans. All of which mEĪ₹Oī\! inadvertently supported. Who goes to this much trouble to strike back against an existential threat presenting themselves at age 14?

Grooming gangs seeking to project their power over society naturally. This happens because the best defense is a good offense.

I had no idea what everyone's problem was. I don't respond to blind prejudice and hatred as expected. Because for one thing, I hate bullying. Nothing blind about it. Plenty of hatred. Theirs.

Neatly returned to sender, IMHO. The entire notion that anyone would be legit dumb enough to make me their mark while high on crystal methamphetamine, only to find themselves helplessly imprinted on getting schooled by Hung Angry Brute for the entirety of the rest of their lives, was not one that I thought likely to end up a likely outcome.

IDGAF who reads any of this. It's written for my purposes. It's not another one of those items of creative work that content thieves can figure out how to make money off of. Oh, is it not a money-maker for pirates? I am of course devastated by yet another public revelation of my many shortcomings. After all, I am simply a dimwitted beast to be tamed by the youth of the homophag cognoscenti.

I am not tamable. My life is my own. I live it for my purpose and I could not credit any notion that anyone thought I needed to be worked harder for the good of a social group seeking to neutralize my ability to socialize.

Via deceptive means. I was a minor with no friends. They were adults posing as students and cheerfully using CM. ON CHILDREN. It was asinine. I wanted zero part of the entire scene—so I arranged things so that I would not really be noticed as absent by choice.

I knew no one would be interested in asking me anything since they knew I didn't know anything. I didn't. I was so foolish, I thought it inconceivable that I would be blatantly lied to.

Did I look like I had anything better to do, than to take my time, circling back around to my prey? Druglord groomphags with crystal and time portals brainwashing children for some nitwit eugenics scheme is not something that I felt best addressed by buckling down harder at Kinko’s and grabbing a third side hustle.

I chose to be, instead of financially “secure,” I chose to be effective. There is no point in amassing material wealth when Commie pinkos can simply roll into your life and take everything with no way to resist.

Note that this has, in fact happened. Damn. Well, as I have very nearly accomplished my goal — the obliteration of the entire Satanic Homosex Cultural Worldview — I can earn fat sacks of cash later.

What would I have done with lots of money? Literally it was just stolen and denied any opportunity to experience continuing success. This is not a “just work harder” circumstance.

It was a fight to the death and it's over. No one even knows. Explaining this to a bot operated by the soulless husk left behind after years of chemical brainwashing that maybe looked like someone who was my friend, maybe, until juiced up and reprogrammed with narco-coca dick, was never any interest of mine.

I instead sought unobtainable answers and access to their flying cars. The latter as a feint. I don't give a shit about a flying car. Come pick me up and fucking get high and fly me away. This of course would never happen.

But answers came and they never came as a result of interrogation of robots. I needed to know things that were deliberately kept hidden from me. I don't need to know them now.

For now I do know. See? That really wasn't so bad. (For me.) I could have just been politely talked to. Instead, this gang believed in throwing their weight around. I was obviously not meant to succeed in anything I wanted to do.

EVER. Wow, tough crowd. And now I know why. I was never meant to propagate my bloodlne in any way but poorly. Cozlik, ‘muh racial purity. I certainly wasn't going to pay for it either.

They wanted money and viable genetic material and to gaslight me without drugs and this was all planned out. And I completely fucked up everything for everyone with not much effort.

I don't like being groomed. Has it ever occurred to you to question the legitimacy of your own birth? If the answer is no, one has not been made aware of what this particular criminal underground actually did.

They pissed me off. I'm still pissed. IDGAF what my parents did. They never told me. I bet it resulted in lots of lost profits for the syndicate. That eventually adds up.

But that's a secret. Anywho, Metron was a huge eureka. Because... this much trouble? Probably not just for my baby-batter. BUT SOMEONE KEPT TRYING.

Too bad I was so fat and non-rapey. Maybe they should have taken more drugs and then stripped me of my clothing and whipped me while chained to the pillory.

Because that would have worked to discourage me. What hasn't discouraged me at all is the twinning of certain Internet areas. Yeah I bet she wants a twin around. So did I.

I never thought stealing was a good idea. I guess it's not stealing when you gang up and do it to a minor child with no friends. That's Carrie. By Stephen King.

It's not telekinetic shielding. It's psychokinetic shielding. It works against psychopaths. It's real. And you didn't get to make money from stealing that either.

When I give a shit about AbboRobo™ reading my posts I'll neck myself. I don't know who is still alive or what they do to get cash flow, because I don't need them to buy in.

I need them to be effective. Thus, being obviously unable to handle large blocks of cryptic poetry was effective for me...

To skip in, drop sick beats, and then leave. Oh, yeah, I'm trying to “win her back.” that sounds romantic.

I never had her. She was multiple women and one was meant to be the one for fit for me to dump semen into. The rest were dopesex obsesssives. How was this supposed to be compel me to get serious?

I assume it was to keep me away from actual contact, and I would settle for being held as a hostage. I believe it was further assumed I wasn't going to be able to resist their ideas.

I really don't know, as no told me anything. For over thirty years. That's patently absurd. Again: tough crowd.

Maybe they could have gone after me in civil. They can now! Just present 🆔 and a list of charges .... and they damages. They're a laughing stock now. Is this what you need on a frozen pizza?

Just kidding. I'm not buying you pizza. And I've been here before. No welcome at all means trouble. I never wanted a robot to read what I wrote. I also didn't want one to piss on my face and tell me it's spindrift off of Quiddity.

I already knew she was dead to me. I knew nothing of reprogramming girls who were unshakeably fascinated by dopethugs. It was obviously happening.

It happens differently now. I am sure smaller messages would have sped this along... for you.

For me it was no hurry. For you it was a guilty conscience. That's because you're all guilty AF about stuff.

* Jackstar sleeps soon, while you work in the salt mines.

I left before I was COMPED. By now, you're all either my money or my focus group. Both can get mail.

Do I get mail? No, it was taken. You get the idea. Till long, donuts reveal.

LOCKED IN. NO WAY OUT. HERE'S YOUR AUTOMATIC ALIBI MAKER: METRON.

Riding my coattails. Okay for East Coast ? I guess.

Mistakes were made. Up to and including my anger flash; why am I letting these of dopemongers gestate without action? Too many, didn't reload.


Right now. Pfft.

[AZZERAE]

Sumi.

Like I need that headache.

[AZZERAE]

[Worthauger]

The degree to which I am unvolved in these people lives has clearly been lost on most of you. I haven't talked to any of them since before the first ambush. Every single one of them that I've talked to since then has been a f****** plant.

Maybe you don't know. Maybe you don't know how your stupid b******* operation works, but I certainly do. You f**** whoremongering dopezlers have been f****** f***** with my life for 35 f****** years and now I f****** know everything I f****** need to know.

Looks good on you though.

[Worthauger]

Like I need that headache.

You broke her; you bot her; you ẞīT⁰ⁿ(HER). You set yourself up as [...]; I'm just giving you a fighting chance, that's all.

When the dust settles and the smoke clears, no one will remember anything, not even this.

They will simply know: JACKSTAR‡ŒLIVERED.


p.s.:. Tell you what; for you, USD$19,500. These are friend prices.