Nobody is ready for this.
I should call Nobody. In thirty years he's going to be telling everyone that he never doubted I could do it.
Nobody is ready for this.
I recovered the last three (3) Divine Beings that were known to myself to have been MIA, without any kind of fuss, muss, or bother. I was not even looking for them; there is no bounty board for them and as such I was not even aware that there was a supposed infinite number of them available to be sought. (More on this later.)
Nobody is ready for this.
Bellgab, a swarthy Middle Eastern man just drove up in a tractor-trailer rig abruptly, interposing it between myself and Overly Sneery Home-Caught Honey Vendor w/associated “Totes Lēē Ga! ∆>K<∆>K<∆>K‽ Finance Cleansing OP/MERK\CAÇshhhh! Punyling™ Skunk Worx! №† ⁴4 The 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝 Satan Hail!” comfort station, Which is how I choose to describe a certain place now, because statements have made that cannot be taken back. Offenses have been endured. Face has been lost. Steps must now be taken.
Nobody is ready for this.
Anyway, the guy motioned me in a way that I didn't understand because while he recognized me from before, like a week ago, and I recognized him, and then after a while I thought about it and I realized that he was asking me if I wanted a ride, and he seemed concerned and willing to help me, which isn't a look I get very often, because he was either an extremely good actor, or he wasn't sure what I was doing, but knew damn well that I had been strung out and hung out to dry for quite some time, and a whole bunch of other people, IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION FROM WHICH TRAFFIC USUALLY COMES FROM, are mobilizing for what looks like “Iwo Jima 2: Casper Takes Things Personal” which sounds like a pretty good movie, if I want to be at all honest about it without having to deliberately go so far as to mention Christina Ricci's tits, her resemblance to Wynona Ryder, and how distinctly I remembered my revulsion to be suddenly accused of exhibiting traits of pædophilic tendencies at an unexpected place and in an unexpected way in the mid-90s.
Auntie, I don't know if I'm supposed to be eating him or fucking him.”
That's the training.
Nobody is ready for this.
And it has been for exactly that reason that I have accomplished exactly what I said I was going to accomplish. Without being at all obvious about it. Telemetry that I am receiving at this location, in my view, looks to be absolutely cherry. I am of course quite biased.
Nobody is ready for this.
An important friend of mine and I, once spent an inordinate amount of time playing the survival construction set epic computer game
Lemmings. I doubt many people remember it the way we do. The marketing for the game featured the phrase, “Gotta save them all!” Note the difference in phrasing in comparison to Pokémon: “catch”.
Auntie, I don't know if I'm supposed to be eating him or fucking him.”
I suppose the goddam message I was meant to be focused on when I was arrested on December 24th, 2021, and in jail the only readable book left available to me in the confines of the main holding area was
Catcher In The Rye which I had already read before, but I don't give a good goddam why. I didn't really think it was all that grand.
Nobody is ready for this.
I saved them all. My friend did not. She was not prepared. And now: she works. Of course, I do as well, but somehow this is not as exalted an activity as I would prefer that it be. I am also, out of cigarettes.
Nobody is ready for this.
There is never enough time for training. For example, everyone has been in such an all-fire rush to take everything I've got, no one has managed to prevent me from obtaining everything I was ever going to have.
Auntie, I don't know if I'm supposed to be eating him or fucking him.”
Key takeaways:
#1) One pill makes you larger, and one makes ewe small.
#2) I was only going to ever be able to make one shot at this.
#3) Yew break īT, YOU bought ¡†.
#4) Artificial intelligence and artificed intelligence are immeasurably distinct from each other, once a fair attempt at attempting an understanding of the distinction begins.
#5) I am War King.
#6) First, it was “seeking a relationship leading to co-habitation.” This morphed into “help with my kids.” One thing lead to another and it was, “I have been sex- and labor-trafficked and it's all your fault!” (The rare, edge-case scenario.) Rather soon after that, it was “don't you think it's about time we got married?” (By that time, we in fact had already been so, in a secret ceremony that I was unable to persuade any of the witnesses to confirm with me, had actually happened.) And quite a bit farther ahead in time than that, I was told that it was not that it was a
marriage that she desired, but rather a
wedding. (I gave her a Sourcerœr’s Wedding with zero advance notice; it was almost exactly like the scenes at the beginning of
The Beastmaster, an 80s fantasy vehicle for Marc Singer.
#7) The rings used have been stolen; I have no idea where they are, or what they have been used for by whomsoever took them, and the most important and impressive ring, which was used for the traditional on-the-knee proposal, at which time, she was naked, dripping wet, and quite surprised to be actually impressed at all by what I had been doing.
#8) A degenerate, false copy of that ring was unexpectedly found in my bedroom. On the floor. I immediately spotted it, and proceeded to incorporate it into several magickal and alchemical workings. The condition and sparkle of that ring began to raise and improve. Shortly after that, that ring disappeared. I came home, and it was gone.
#9) Worlds without end. Plans within plans within plans. I have a Covenant.
#10) And now, I have ten percent battery. I wrote the word, I looked at the next number, and a notification played.
#11) Steve¹: I get a real spark of joy when I think about it, which is not often: because I always feel the same way about having plagiarized one of your short stories, when I was in 2nd grade. I did not wjn the contest; first prize was a brief trip in a hot air balloon; the teacher's name was Mrs. King. I recall having something of a crush on her; I recall a few of those happening that year. What I do not recall happening was being reprimanded for plagiarism. But whether that was because I successfully did not plagiarize, and instead created an original, derivative work that was simply not recognized as obviously related to yours, was not a topic that was broached by Mrs. King. (I did later argue with a gay European male in IRC, over a decade later, over what “originally derivative” might mean. I felt as though I was being argued with about the topic on a personal level; and the gay man had enough disposable income, and no children, that he was able to import llamas and keep them as livestock.) I am still remorseful that I plagiarized the work, however, because no matter what the legal definition, I definitely performed an amoral act... as I did not attribute anyone else as an author. And I did that... to see who would ever reference the incident at all. I wondered how long it might take to reveal its importance.
#12) I arranged to have a retired professional musician craft a jingle for use in my planned foray into YouTube™ audio content. It seemed like the thing to do. We negotiated, and a few days later, I had a jingle. I LOVED IT. And then a day after that... the author wanted it back. He did not explain why. He was really bent out of shape over it as well. After a brief protest, I returned my copies of the audio, and he returned my money, and he was very grumpy about the whole thing. The next day, I learned that the night before, after I had left his place of business, where he sold nicotine vapes and fluid, a white panel van drove into the plate glass window of his shop, pinning him back up against the wall, nearly killing him and utterly destroying his business and his ability to walk.
#13) I saw him again two or three times in the past ~15 years. He recovered well; and is more or less, able to walk cheerfully now; and before, he was not cheerful at all, as he had also had a motorcycle crash into his foot, that didn't get proper healing. Similarly, I did not complete healing. I never asked again about the jingle, that I loved, that I no longer remember how it sounded.
#14) I am not to be trifled with. I had nothing to do with any of those events. I did love the jingle. He created it for me; I paid him; and then he demanded a reversal of the deal. IDGAF. There was music that I loved; it was mine; and then it was stripped away. I did not bother to investigate the causal relationship.
#15) And —with The Key— YOU may unlock Our knowledge.
But no one will EVER unlock my Covenant. Point blank period. And so: here we are.
Nobody speak... no body get choked. (5% battery, 10 minutes until Sourcerœr’s Hour, and I am going to make decisions. Those decisions will make a difference.
And not one of those differences mean a single fucking thing to me. Fuck your honey, Lodgebros. Y'all handled this badly and your fumble has been unfathombly unhelpful. How the fuck am I supposed to keep any of this a secret? Hang on.
* Jackstar consults no one at all while suddenly thinking about an unidentified film actress who probably didn't appreciate the way he was yelling at the person he suddenly found himself on the phone with during a separate, telephonic ambush that only lasted about five minutes, with some unidentifiable perfect stranger who was not allowed to get even a single word in edgewise.
It was arranged to shock me. I knew exactly who it was. I instantly knew that it could be very bad for that person if they were identified by their voiceprint.
So I pretended to be incoherent with rage, apopleptic with fury, and nothing more than a wild-mannered fuckin’ tickin’ time bomb of sudden, uncontrollably involuntary fury. In reality: I like the person a lot and I was grinning the whole time and I hope she's still alive and that I get to rub her feet someday. I haven't talked to her since. I absolutely felt that her life was in danger. It probably still is because I don't know why she wouldn't be able to call me.
Although I guess my dick really is that big. (Standards.) Have fun storming the castle! I will be going, I don't participate in that kind of thing. I honestly don't feel like it would be at all fair to the castle.
Nobody is ready for this.
Do you even have a pulse, Or do you just have your chattering teeth shake the plasma up a little when you stick your head in the freezer to check on your trophies? wew lad
