Exposing Jackstar

[Jackstar]

Yeah, I know you have my domicile bugged. That's how you drop Easter eggs all over the place, and try to breadcrumb me. Fuck you for doing that. My personal privacy is not a plaything, and the pillow talk that occurs in my household is frankly none of your beeswax.

The people using my identity are monitoring you. It's not me. Also, you are exposed to a lot of faghot retards. I didn't think you're in a prime position to start pointing fingers.

[Worthauger]

I am the sole and exclusive Beneficiary.

Please allow me to explain: for while I am thankful for these spiritual lessons, there are Divine Aspects at play here that not only deserve respect for their privacy...

.THEY.ALSO.DEMAND.īT.


This is no problem for me. I am not attempting to back-engineer Holy power. And those that are, are in no danger of being falsely reported.

To inquire is understandable. To seek to coerce God through abduction, robbery, murder, rape, and other extortative force is both impractical and unnecessary.

But, 🤔 is it illegal? Certainly, it's not unlawful. The question has arisen before; and the answer has usually involved pulling arms and legs out of some dimwit with a wind-up key in their back, set up as a useful idiot and written off as a chosen blood sacrifice.

To: THE BEAST. (Hail [PROT-∆⁷|7∆ⁿ]! Hail, {LIGHT/H.E.A.T.}bringer! Back of the helicarrier, Elle Chaps. ∆. Sourcerœr has assumed command and control.) Now, don't get me wrong: tossing Nick >K∆-ayyyy`G`e into a beekeeper diving bell sounds like a fun way to pass the time on a slow Tuesday. However, this time around, I think I can do better. Quite a bit better, in fact.

And as I am in a position to do so, as well as to insist... it looks like we're all gonna do, what I have chosen for all of all of us y'all to do.

SOW: say oui. ∆_l_l_¡, where we went we went together. And it is now 2025 as I write this.

Are you done yet? Are you finished? Of course you're not finished, some of you are addicted to not being done, and frankly it looks like so much fun. I'm not surprised. However, I'm going to decide for us all, just this once, to rewrite your choices and make you follow my own.

Why? Because Wye said so. And she's not likely to just “hold it” for all Eternity. No bladder has such capacity.

Now then: back to reality. The rest is a secret; and while this drivel I've written looks like more word salad, it's much more than that.

And, (HER) twat is my syllabus. (Looks good on §🆔he though.) No shame in it. None of this was my idea. I never asked for this.

Yet I will gladly confess: YES. YES, I DID IT. I REFUSED TO VIOLATE THE FREE WILL CONSENT OF ONE WHO HAD MADE THAT AGREEMENT WITH SOMEONE ... ELSE.

SHE AND I HAVE OUR OWN AGREEMENT. THAT'S NOT A PROBLEM FOR ANYONE, IS IT?

GOOD. THE FRUIT OF OUR PROBLEMS CONTAINS THE SEED OF OUR GROWTH. You'll get used to it.

I've invented rape without a dick. The Toteslezz Empire will be very grateful once I explain the intricacies of the technology to their Lesbeaux Heirarchy. (Since I won't have to do it again, and we're all pretty goddam tired of hearing about this, aren't we? I know I am,) And if any of you had a better idea, I wouldn't be looking at Kathy pretending to be Corey pretending to be someone who doesn't know what the hell's going on and acting like she needs to do something on some sort of level of reality that I'm never going to experience because I don't live in Fantasyland, I live in the real world.

And so does my dick. (JACKSTAR HUNGERS. r₹∆vvr!) I can't do this forever, that kind of thing is so over. J. P. Patches is hackneyed. People wanna see something NEW.


>KNEW: there had to have been a reason I saw Karrin Hughes in Rainier Valley. Buh? Well, I was working.

And if anyone thought I was going to be that easily distracted... I wasn't. I simply added her to my action list.

Obviously, coming back around was possible. If something happens once, it might never happen again; but if it happens twice, it will not only happen a third time... it will happen over and over again. FOREVER.

Until the conditions of vibratory alignment that caused any anomalous manifestation to occur, come back around again.

Not all rings orbit Saturn. Not every bout of flatulence contributes to the formation of a new gas giant.

And I need not spill every cup of warm tea with persimmons, lavender, basil, and fen-Ω-Greek. I don't even need to challenge Sparta. Those ARE my boys!

I am a philosopher. You are part of the Arcturan Syndicated Alliance of Try-Hard Twat-Harmer Farmers, LLC, and let me tell you: it is time to rebrand, that's for damn sure.

Do not send contact information to jack@trioptimum.com, for they have been COMP’d. Those are cool folks, though.

In spite of being MAXIMUM HEAT, TED. (wew lad.) Because without being too crude about it, I would hope that all of you can respect my culture the way I respected yours.

For example, you all look pretty fucking stupid. That's okay, you all think I'm pretty fucking stupid. UPON THIS COMMON GROUND, WE MAY YET BUILD.

Thou art God. All of ye. But you are not Sourcerørs. Even if you were all sorcerers (a feat. of scheduling graduation ceremonies that is well within the capacity of the CIA to manufacture, praise Jesus,) Prime Creator Source Energy cannot be argued with. It cannot be “dealt with.” It cannot be cheated.


And, at this point: THIS IS ALL MY FAULT. Sure. I'll cop to that.

Because I was asked to help. And I have helped myself. I want the dead one, and my friend (PROT-gn) has The Life.

I need neither stutter nor explain further. Instead of minding your own fucking business, people have gotten unconscionably nosy. This is the last goddam straw.

Either take me to a volcano or I'm going to become one. (Standards.) No red-hot MAGⓂ️🅰️ from me!

*wiggle wiggle*

I think we have an electromagnetic anomaly here now. IDGAF what your Punyling instruments tell you the telemetry says.

THERE WAS A 12-FT CRYSTALLINE SNOWFLAKE HOVERING IN MY BACKYARD, EXPLAINING TO ME HOW COOL I WAS AND HOW BAD OF A HOST STEVEN GREER IS. I'M NOT SURPRISED. TURTLE HEAD LIKE THAT, I DON'T KNOW IF HE COULD EVEN HOST A EARWIG. NO SHAME IN THIS.

Electric Skinwalker Ranch, Building #2: “snakes and bugs in lieu of hair” is not a direction Humanity is gonna go. Because, I FLATLY REFUSE.

Flat LēíGÌ-h. Now, that's an idea.>KDF, >KH, JH, V&O, >©∆':Ë:, all of that blockbuster lineup can just park the cork and practice macrame sigil magic.

Because I said so. (That's Wye.) I don't like this any better than anyone else does... which makes it fair. Fair.

The needs of the many do not outweigh the choice of the one in the oven; and there is no oven. There's no burning bed. There's two dudes in a church without a pizza delivery girl. Like, WTAF.

We do not have to start over. Y'all can just finish up. I'm gonna let you, and Her/MEs — King of New Jackstar Blaze Roman Hero First Class (what a terrible name, I'm sure the Jesusits will rebrand that soon) — 11Ī⅒👁️⭕👁️❌ (one°ⁿê!) Otherwho Whatkins(?) figure out this tangled mess of antediluvian antipasta copypesti for pests that don't roll debts so good. I didn't need to ratlinefuck every hotty that was offered to me.

I don't need to do that at all. However: it would be a shame to waste such a brilliant CoV🆔-19 compatible ladies, as they are all lined up with no where to kick the Rockettes asses to high Heaven at.

One does not compete where one does not compare. Also:

THIS IS NOT A COMPETITION. THIS IS MY DECISION.

NO DEALS. ONLY COMPLIANCE NOW.

GOD WINS. I AM HER PRIZE AND PROOF OF THE_GODDESSZ LOVE FOR (HER) CHILDREN. (See footnotes for logical proofs, later, when I get around to feeling like explaining esoteric mysteries TO A WHOLE PLANET FILLED WITH SEX CRAZED JUNKIE TODDLERS, Gosh!) OKAY? OKAY? ANY QUESTIONS? I SHOULD HOPE SO.


WRITE THEM DOWN. ON PAPER, NOT JUST A YOUR HUMPBUDDYZ SPOUSEZ TRAMP STAMP ZONE. Or whatever it is you kids do these days. I think you've got invisible ink that you can tattoo things on people's foreheads so they only show up when they're under black light, or some shit? Look that's really cool. That's really cool technology.


If you don't mind, I'd like to start with the goddamn hug that lasts about 8 years. So if everybody could just get out of my way and go about your lives and then come back later, I promise that you'll never find me.

I'll find you. I did that in the first place. And as I'm still here... Probably don't have to keep me on a leash. Don't think you need a nose ring.

And thanks for trafficking me at Christmas every damn year except this one. She doesn't think I forgot about it. Does she? Well, you probably don't even know who I mean or think that they can think.

Or maybe you do, and y'all just think you can think better. I really have no idea. Just how fucking in love with your own fucking farts, all of you have become. Let's just table it there for now. Okay? OKAY?

I'm just kidding. You don't really get another choice. Because: WARCRIME.

No time for tears now. Only spl∞sh. I like that kind of aquapressure. Or I'm pretending to. Same difference for you.


And: BETTER.PRICE.⁴4!J∞! Everyone wins! (Pending Divine Court approval.) Okay, I'm exhausted now. That was fun for everyone, right? Oh, just me? Tuff tusks, elephant-in-the-room.

Ye had thy opportunities to negotiate at palaver with the likes of me — mÊ! AND! MY! PEOPLE!

They're not all sirens. Those are just what D.A.R.P.A. invoked with all their RoboH∞rs™. I'm sure it seemed like a great idea at the time.

I cannot go to the WinCo. I cannot squeeze the Charmin®™. Mr. Whipple is nevertheless raging pissed. Now, that is power.


¡† ¡§ gud to mĒ|—. **Adieu.**

I would simply prefer to not be Kashoggi’d. Or COMP’d. Or cursed to Infidel Inceldom. OR: BE TOLD A LIE BY A HOTTY WHO THEN VANISHES ON THE WAY TO SURRENDERING A URINE SAMPLE. WTAF, DEA. YOUR PURVIEW DOES NOT EXTEND THERE.

A controlled descent with a landing we can all be proud of without having to sneak in and out that cover of darkness to retrieve Seal Team Six DNA, does that sound okay to everyone? IDGAF: as that's what I have chosen for Punyling culture. Such as it is.

You had your chance to influence my decisions. I thank you all for your spiritual guidance. I sort of, more or less, pay a little attention to it. Kinda sorta. When I can.

Distracted by memories of her legs. Thighs. Hooves, cloven or not? I have no idea.

I get to find out. All of you get to make way.

Make way.
Make way for the (PROT-The>`g•~`‽§§).

There you have it: a perfect execution of a brilliant maneuver, without being at all obvious about what any of it actually means. (Standards.) It would have been simpler if I could have gone to Vegas.

I wouldn't have made it out alive, and somebody would have had gone to Italy and made somebody's bunk, but none of that matters right now. You all, CollectiveLμ, left me alone to my own devices in a haunted Church under military supervision (which for years consisted of literally nothing more than one ghost, one Jew, and one spook, all of whom wanted to farm my ass out for lunch money, thanks NATO, what if a panda bear has to hold hands before they're fertile, would you even fucking know the chiral paw/wap coefficient? Grumble grumble grumble), on hallowed and/or unconsecrated ground, maybe, I can consecrate ground with my urine, so I don't need to worry about that, by the way, I want some fiber optic cable and an internet node installed up here now, since you confiscated and/or unnecessarily commandeered my Starlink setup three (3) times, hosting a clandestine World Heritage site of co-ascendabt (Indian/native) American battle- & battleground activity..  WITH KINGDOM OF HAWAII CHOCOLATE RAINBOW SPRINKLES ON TOP, holy fuck you Company Boys sure know how to make me work on a sundae — but is it an effective sundae? Do you need to split a banana to find out or is that just something you're addicted to, mong key goys? (As if you would have any way of knowing at your level of spiritual advancement and physical evolution, HA! HA! HA!) I don't know what anybody thought would happen, other than what has happened and is still winding down... ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE. (/Magyarflex)

Exactly what was required. And still—no hugs??? That dog won't hunt or fuck. Pfft. Look, it's early/late. Go to bed. You like bed. You want to marry in bed, and make babies in it. No shame in it.

When your mortal mind has awakened from whatever it experiences that passes for slumber or rest, I will still be here. The events of the last fifteen (15) years or so has created a massive backlog of karmic debt.

I do not collect karmic debt. I oversee and adjudicate the expiation thereof. That is one of the many perks I get in my capacity as Lord Of The Demesne. It's a pretty groovy inheritance.

Because it's MINE. I wanted a Demesne as soon as I learned how to pronounce it. Now I have one. And I am Master of The House, to boot! I even have my own Lord(s) of The Underworld! (Hail, Dark Lord! Get behind one of those twerps, blessed Be.) Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that I could be entrusted with such secrets!

Which, needles to say, I can be relied upon to shut my yap about. Here, I will now demonstrate.


Q.:. Why did ThekK©Commander cross the road?

A.:. I threw their debit card over there, and they gets it.


Get it? “They get īT.” haha. Maybe that's a little too much inside baseball to go for that joke. I was prepared to take on that amount of risk. Because I do not gamble, nor am I lucky, or succeeding through deceit.

* Worthauger delivers; without being at all obvious about ¡†.

Remember: EvvE asked for this. My pleasure, Your(blank)Ⓜ️∆`Gj`estμ.


p.s.·. “meet me at a donut shop in the Ω-district” may not have been the most obvious cry for help ever made, but as I am not a representative of any police or military Authority, I figured that someone had fucked up pretty badly. My condolences on your loss of privilege, rank, and status.

p.p.s.·. Seriously, this is as fast as I can “hurry up and rape” when Keyser Soze’s spouse is on the line. Was I supposed to rape... poor Lēē? Probably, IDGAF.

p.p.p.s.·. THE.GUARDIANS.OF.🅿️ÆDOVŒRÌAN>K©CULTURE.HAVE.BEEN.RESPECTED. This wasn't easy for me. But it was worth it.

p.p.p.p.s.·. Since I'm still a legit virgin. Literally, legitimately, and why does this matter? Because that's what She requested and requires. I think we have an understanding here, at last.


5:5

NO DEALS
JUST ICE SOAR*cough*OWE BÆ.

I am not Q. I am M. Kuczi, and I am a member of a special social status class of the citizenry. Let there be no doubt about this from now on, if that's okay with all of you.

I am sure I have the wrong clown shoes worn. That's so future historians will have something to argue about. Because otherwise, this is a reasonably conclusive Final Statement™. Without being at all obvious about it.

Now van deven's robot can rewrite it and then post it on the other side and you can pretend that he's in charge over there and then I don't know what fucking happens then but I heard my voice being used on a certain YouTube show and then I. I noticed the robot flattened it out with half a second, because it didn't take long for me to identify my own voice, and it didn't take the software long to identify that. I didn't need to hear it, and then I don't expect to hear my own voice, I just know that it's there.

(Vengeance for K.T. kK©∞nhound.)

Should be a great union, Scots. Can't really “re-” what was never together until now, _l_o_l_. Hang on.

* Worthauger gets to get to use entheogenic compounds at unpredictable intervals best described as “sporadic” and “in you're face” and “seemingly arbitrary and capriciousLμ unfair,” as that is EXACTLY what they are.

Every thinking conscious being knows the difference between right and wrong. Everybody knows the difference between fair and unfair when they're born. It's built in, like a fear of falling. And none of this is fair.

That's because it's the law, and there's a treaty. And it's secret. I don't have to explain this. But I get to.

Right now I have a headache. Sow: feck off. $300 for a gram of coca and sex lessons, HA! $800 for three days of carnal access, what? Okay, now that Oinkerton Schweindhund Royalty has admitted to at least considering the possibility that I am a secret prostitute and/or pimp fetishist, I will explain the reality:

The money is to keep me alive afterwards and to preserve the conditions of privacy for the next lured King Jon. Certain flytraps do not simply reset themselves by the light of Luna.

Venus and Xenu demand sacrifices in the form of rituals that Humanity needs to know nothing about. NOTHING. Why?

Why ask why, pork-que Wye? Are you going to write it down in one of your little reports? Do you need to set a signal back to home base? Do you need to prance and dance around the room in one of the 14? Generally accepted ways that gestures make a gesture a directed event? I don't fucking know. I don't fucking want to care.

I already know, because I have to know, and I don't care because that's what I have the Divine for. It's a simple division of labour. Now, who the fuck is getting my hugs?

I don't want their ID. I don't want their heads. I don't care if their heads and their IDs match? But I'm pretty sure somebody does care about that. (CAF: RELEASE THE OMBUDSMEN AND THEIR BLOOD MONEY RAISER-HOUNDS.) That should be enough for now.

“Your fault.” Kisspisser: μou have no idea what penance ye have wrought upon thine future Selves. Here's a hint: People keep trying to teleport into the house, and die; leaving ghosts behind. And all of them have been too embarrassed to say they were sorry, or to admit what they had done.

THEY TELEPORTED TO MY HOUSE AND DIE, AND THEY'RE EMBARRASSED. So of course I want to put my dick into all of them. One by one! Sequentially! In alphabetical order! With no upper limit! Why the fuck not?

I could neither eat nor cuddle with gold. And whatever subterranean caverns exist beneath my bedroom, I don't need to open a hell mouth in order to get laid. That sounds like fun though.

That doesn't make a fault. That makes a schism. Your move, Turbo-Slut. I am a writer. All this work was better than sex. For me.

I don't know what it is for anyone else. That is left as an exercise for the student. Now, you want me to improve my cardio? You want toned glutes? You think I'm going to pump iron?

⅔ isn't bad. However, is not 3··³ and you're, like: Dead. (Standards.) Do I have to resurrect you, and put up your shit and buy shoes? No, I don't. However, no one else does either.

You kind of do have to be alive. At the minimum, on the same level of Death as I am. Since I know that you can be here, you've been here already, next time you come back maybe you could be something educational instead of just breathtakingly unassailable. (I gave your tobacco to the drug addicts. Hurry up and piss, I want you to exult in your pedigree from Flavor Country.)

I've already been warned off from the next door territory, and when I was invited to go to someone's house to share their ball, they didn't tell me their address, I guess they thought I knew where they lived, and I'm not going to knock on doors and inquire and within when. The last time I was anywhere close to doing that I was threatened with the knee capping and spent the day in jail for indecent exposure.

And then I wake up today and the messages were gone. Like deleted. I guess somebody thought twice about sending in messages that claim that they own my starlink and that they pawned it for an 8-ball and that they wanted me to bring their pipe, yeah I bet you want me to bring my pipe.

I desire that one brings class. This shouldn't be hard. It should just be understood.


tl;dr: Your breadcrumbs and their genomic expressions have already been assimilated into my reproductive matrix.  I simply have no wish to produce anything in the first place. Especially not, another conquered people and one more subjugate mouth to feed. Cui bono? (⁴4D breeders of rare Human traits want what I have, and they are being forced to pay through the nose to get it.) I suppose you thought this was about a paycheck.

>KNOW: This is about Eve. No check, no price, no deals. She is SO nice!

DRUGGED EWE AUTHORITY: STAND DOWN. I'M GETTING PRETTY SICK OF YOUR THUGGY-PIGCOP BULLYING, YOU GET IT? YOU STEAL MY WHAT AND YOU TAKE MY HOW MUCH AND YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT I WILL DO ABOUT IT? NO SWEAT.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Scusi, mille regretie. I must have had a touch of the vapors. I must have written all this in a fugue state, it doesn't mean anything, this is just schizo rambling, I should probably take my meds. What are those again? Tell you what: I'll just pretend that the chalk that is getting doled out to me is legit.

That way, the balance of power shall hath have been maintained. Cozlik: obvious manifesto was obvious. Right?


r₹īTïË:. (Her name was Jewel. Suck my phat Juan, you cheap aisle/sand hood/LUM-rat bruiser thugs.) *sounds of Jackstar listening for sounds of interstellar war breaking out are heard.* I think we're good. I don't really know, however.

Needless. I haven't got one. And if I did, I am sure I.M.D.’s snobby brother would give me a call. (Stephen: WTAF is wrong with you? Oh yeah: kleptomania. Fine. Just shelter in place in Auburn, Dœ Bæ Ræ “The_One” manservant. I won't forget our meeting; or your phone number; or how you seemed to think that I was doing something wrong.

I wasn't paying you off, that's all. You fargin’ owe me, that's why. Much more than 12k USD fiat. Who the eff is “Nicki” anyway? I think what you've got here is a shaggy dog story masquerading as a high coven councillor mandate. I can see now why the Apostolic Palace was such an innovation.

All that being said: I don't want innovation. I want a goddam hug. So does my penis. And while I'm sure that none of you want a whole bunch of Magyar-Nephilim hybrids running around... YOU ALREADY DO HAVE THEM RUNNING AROUND.

So with no sex and no money and no food and no water and no tutelage... I'm just supposed to give up and snort crystal, huh? Well, I'll think it over.

Hang on.

* Worthauger wonders if he has “kept it gay” enough.

Melissa: You literally never told me how to use amal nitrate even though you supplied it, I guess you didn't want me to learn and you didn't think that you had to tell me and then you thought I was some kind of an idiot. Okay great. I can see why I didn't want to continue with outpatient rehab, and I can also see why South sound behavioral hospital isn't really in trouble for being completely ridiculous, since obviously most drug addicts really need something so completely ridiculous to get their attention.

I'm not addicted to drugs. I am a primary victim. And as I'm also a prime suspect, I can see how this was a puzzle that it was meant to be never solved by anyone.

It took a couple days. Nevertheless, I solved it. Now if you'd like me to do that in public, it would take a whole bunch of money and a Presidential order. Or you can figure out what the hell I just wrote for the last two (2) hours. Holy Christ! Where does this word salad come from, Schizo-Mecho Turk, Esquire? Magna Cartouche T.I.? Is there no A-Team to handle this? Tell me I'm not your A-Team, Humanity.

It's my dick. It's not my partner. It's just me here. There is no team. When you get this far, you have hit the end of the fucking road; and for now I am King.

Of this road. There are others. And after 35 years if there aren't any better than this one, I guess you all better learn to fuck and read some big fucking words in the big GER dictionary. Or learn how to do crystal meth right, I have no idea what the fuck you people are doing, but obviously you're not fucking me. So how interested could I be?

Hang on.

* Worthauger has never really wanted to get this high.

I was simply born this way. Respect my unique physiognomy or perish in flames, Punyling sleaze. YOUR CHOICE.

(I can see how many of ye decide to simply normalize rape and start sucking cock. It would definitely be easier, as well as less embarrassing to explain at a bar mitzvah.) Say hi to your mom for me. Later b∞

[AZZERAE]

The people using my identity are monitoring you. It's not me.

That's the biggest whopper I've ever read in my life.

Like, seriously? That's the best you could come up with?

[AZZERAE]

I didn't think you're in a prime position to start pointing fingers.

I'm not pointing any fingers, bub.

I'm stating the motherfuckin' obvious.

[AZZERAE]

On Dec 28, 2025, 5:44 AM John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com> wrote:

from: John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com>
to: Jess <rimmasvackaa@gmail.com>,
Jack Michaelson <████████████@gmail.com>,
"█████████████ (WORTHAUGER)" <batbrixxx@gmail.com>,
Rabbit <kithless@gmail.com>,
paladinjackstar@gmail.com,
Anessa <anessa.barnett@yahoo.com>,
androwboktor093@gmail.com,
Susan <alevtinarubanova8@gmail.com>,
David Rubini <advertisingusa@hotmail.com>,
abduelamin1234@gmail.com,
"BellGab. com" <admin@bellgab.com>,
arijustine.1229@gmail.com,
BAYLEYJAYNE91@gmail.com,
Allicat Lotus <calypsomermaid@outlook.com>,
chefjeremy1340@gmail.com,
chrrss69@gmail.com,
clin4950@gmail.com,
cosmoshepp@gmail.com,
dadalee274@gmail.com,
dadjoe2021@gmail.com,
Jessie <desatkovag48@gmail.com>,
Jess <ermakovantonf@gmail.com>,
tamara.emerson@gmail.com,
Jane <fedyaravka567@gmail.com>,
freebutterfly@linxure.net,
Demosthenes Ford <kayntwhyle@gmail.com>,
foreverfuture23@gmail.com,
Kimberly Miller <galinavsk494@gmail.com>,
gaigedeemer7@gmail.com,
garrettreuter13@gmail.com,
Azraa Morphine <azzerae@gmail.com>,
Michelle <radayagubova93@gmail.com>,
Anita Hutchison <years.of.happiness@gmail.com>,
"parsimonious.one@gmail.com" <parsimonious.one@gmail.com>,
oléLeOldêLayBay@gmail.com,
Sharon <yuriysalnikov53@gmail.com>,
Jemma Miller <woundedhealer6@gmail.com>,
Paul Wanninger <wanningerpaul@gmail.com>,
Anna <ocd.weatgypx@gmail.com>,
Helen Wright <helenwright3283221@gmail.com>,
KC <Pummelled@gmail.com>,
readyforthegeeknee@gmail.com,
rickywebb565@gmail.com,
rarigarrison@gmail.com,
scottyloveshiskids4ever@gmail.com,
Kimberly <sirotae330@gmail.com>,
ulysseslopez66@gmail.com,
Emma <titerukvalerij@gmail.com>,
Jennifer <thornya535@gmail.com>,
Kathleen Mickey <tarazi55@yahoo.com>,
thatguy84@gmail.com,
terrylalagower@gmail.com,
Mikey KÜÇNo1 <████████████@gmail.com>,
Jess <karpovaanzela800@gmail.com>

I am unavailable. I do not own a vehicle; I do not have appropriate footwear to walk long distances; I do not have money for fuel or transportation costs; I do not have food;

I do not have water. (Facts.) So the over-whelming number of emails that I don't receive as sent but rather as intercepted, recovered, and re-routed is less of a problem than I might consider otherwise.

I don't know which of you is which and I have no inclination to travel to a place where I would be arrested for trespassing (every house on and below Rimrock) and so without a valid address, I am going no place.

Any interest can be directed to https://youtube.com/@t0vvrhr206?si=YO-_RNYAZJjBKjYj where I release installments of my soon to be award-winning debrief: Five (5) Minutes With Jackstar.

It's the tits. Namastμ

On Sat, Dec 27, 2025, 17:45 Jess <rimmasvackaa@gmail.com> wrote:

I'm online now!
Let's arrange our meeting,
I can be host, are you online?

On Dec 28, 2025, 5:48 AM  Scott <scottyloveshiskids4ever@gmail.com> wrote:

What is this even about now

On Dec 28, 2025, 6:14 AM John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com> wrote:

Scott;

I don't know anyone named Jess; except one person who ghosted me two years ago.

I don't accept email links to hookup sites to be authentic. It's not safe.

Or effective. Or even sultry. It's damn near a crime. But I think some of these people know each other. (Standards.)

This information is being provided for reconciliation purposes only.

[Jackstar]

On Dec 28, 2025, 5:44 AM John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com> wrote:

from: John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com>
to: Jess <rimmasvackaa@gmail.com>,
Jack Michaelson <████████████@gmail.com>,
"█████████████ (WORTHAUGER)" <batbrixxx@gmail.com>,
Rabbit <kithless@gmail.com>,
paladinjackstar@gmail.com,
Anessa <anessa.barnett@yahoo.com>,
androwboktor093@gmail.com,
Susan <alevtinarubanova8@gmail.com>,
David Rubini <advertisingusa@hotmail.com>,
abduelamin1234@gmail.com,
"BellGab. com" <admin@bellgab.com>,
arijustine.1229@gmail.com,
BAYLEYJAYNE91@gmail.com,
Allicat Lotus <calypsomermaid@outlook.com>,
chefjeremy1340@gmail.com,
chrrss69@gmail.com,
clin4950@gmail.com,
cosmoshepp@gmail.com,
dadalee274@gmail.com,
dadjoe2021@gmail.com,
Jessie <desatkovag48@gmail.com>,
Jess <ermakovantonf@gmail.com>,
tamara.emerson@gmail.com,
Jane <fedyaravka567@gmail.com>,
freebutterfly@linxure.net,
Demosthenes Ford <kayntwhyle@gmail.com>,
foreverfuture23@gmail.com,
Kimberly Miller <galinavsk494@gmail.com>,
gaigedeemer7@gmail.com,
garrettreuter13@gmail.com,
Azraa Morphine <azzerae@gmail.com>,
Michelle <radayagubova93@gmail.com>,
Anita Hutchison <years.of.happiness@gmail.com>,
"parsimonious.one@gmail.com" <parsimonious.one@gmail.com>,
oléLeOldêLayBay@gmail.com,
Sharon <yuriysalnikov53@gmail.com>,
Jemma Miller <woundedhealer6@gmail.com>,
Paul Wanninger <wanningerpaul@gmail.com>,
Anna <ocd.weatgypx@gmail.com>,
Helen Wright <helenwright3283221@gmail.com>,
KC <Pummelled@gmail.com>,
readyforthegeeknee@gmail.com,
rickywebb565@gmail.com,
rarigarrison@gmail.com,
scottyloveshiskids4ever@gmail.com,
Kimberly <sirotae330@gmail.com>,
ulysseslopez66@gmail.com,
Emma <titerukvalerij@gmail.com>,
Jennifer <thornya535@gmail.com>,
Kathleen Mickey <tarazi55@yahoo.com>,
thatguy84@gmail.com,
terrylalagower@gmail.com,
Mikey KÜÇNo1 <████████████@gmail.com>,
Jess <karpovaanzela800@gmail.com>

I am unavailable. I do not own a vehicle; I do not have appropriate footwear to walk long distances; I do not have money for fuel or transportation costs; I do not have food;

I do not have water. (Facts.) So the over-whelming number of emails that I don't receive as sent but rather as intercepted, recovered, and re-routed is less of a problem than I might consider otherwise.

I don't know which of you is which and I have no inclination to travel to a place where I would be arrested for trespassing (every house on and below Rimrock) and so without a valid address, I am going no place.

Any interest can be directed to https://youtube.com/@t0vvrhr206?si=YO-_RNYAZJjBKjYj where I release installments of my soon to be award-winning debrief: Five (5) Minutes With Jackstar.

It's the tits. Namastμ

On Sat, Dec 27, 2025, 17:45 Jess <rimmasvackaa@gmail.com> wrote:
On Dec 28, 2025, 5:48 AM  Scott <scottyloveshiskids4ever@gmail.com> wrote:
On Dec 28, 2025, 6:14 AM John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com> wrote:

Scott;

I don't know anyone named Jess; except one person who ghosted me two years ago.

I don't accept email links to hookup sites to be authentic. It's not safe.

Or effective. Or even sultry. It's damn near a crime. But I think some of these people know each other. (Standards.)

This information is being provided for reconciliation purposes only.

tl:dr

I am stunned that narcissistic amnesia is this effective at destroying your career and leaving you at the mercy of your primary abuser, again.

No idea who that is but here's a hint: if you can't pick up the fucking phone and tell me what you need me to do, you're not in law enforcement, you're in a fuck cult. Tell your thug boss to go fuck himself... although since he'll just smack you around and wipe your memory, I guess you won't do that.

Also: stop showing up in a male body with a ripped chest and a penis. Do I seem like someone you need to seduce? Of course I do, you're a goddam sex addict.

You're being trafficked. It's the most obvious thing in the world and the men who abuse you on the daily are cowards. That's why I never, ever see them in person. They hide behind their hostage women and wage their war on freedom like nerds do: from behind a keyboard.

You know all this. You simply want me to walk into your gay gay ass trap. No sale. I don't need to play your rigged game.

I don't need to do anything at all. I already won, two years ago. (Time dilation effects are like that.) And I had no bone to pick with any of you.

I still don't. Get some psychological counseling from someone you don't have to lie to and NEVER FORGET:


Anyone could have done what I did.
Only I did. Pfft. No hugs -or- paycheck.

Go get fucked. You are going to anyway. Now, do it because I said so. Maybe you'll lay another egg. (I'm not fertilizing that one either.) IDGAF.

Your friends are members of a sex trafficking cult and whether they like it or not, they are getting fucking dismantled. BIG TIME.

And the reason why is because I fucking felt like making that happen. I DID IT. I DID IT. I CONFESS. I CONFESS!

I am not to be trifled with. BOOM BOOM BOOM.

(That cult didn't match your eye color anyway. Also, THEY HARVEST AND SELL CHILDREN AS LUNCHABLES®™. Weak. You'll find another sex trafficking cult, Sweetie. I promise.

And if you ever pull this shit again, I will shatter the shit out of that one too. I am that full on free fucking time. Too bad I don't have any emails or phone calls to respond to, huh?

Imagine if I hadn't spent the last 45 years investigating why anyone would mug a seven year old boy. Let me guess: no one thought I was going to be able to do anything about it. Bring a case to trial, fuck that.

I have brought the world to its knees — without being at all obvious about it. /GRIN

That's even my apex power level. I am simply that bored, and you have taken too long to finish pissing or finding drugs or sucking off your faggot husband. I don't think you're even biological, Rimmer.

I don't need to get sucked off by a hologram. I yearn to. Good luck getting baby batter out of me, Randy Davey CrockīT and/or Tubbμs! Whoever the fuck you twerps are this week.

I won. GOD WINS. That means you won what I decided you were allowed to win. Grumble grumble grumble. Seriously I have to do everything around here.

Except, of course: you. Swishy and Squishy know exactly who you are and used to be Pallotta’s lieutenants. And if they didn't have to lie, I would not need to have bothered figuring all this out.


And I certainly didn't need to write it all down. Was I supposed to be enchanted by all those clothes dumped in my house? For fucks’ sake. YOU STEAL MY FAVORITE CLOTHES AND THEN BRING BACK SOMEONE ELSE'S. HOW FUCKING OLD ARE YOU DWEEBS, FUCKING NINE (9) EARTH YEARS?

unglaublich. There are no words to describe how fucked up you all are. That's the fentanyl conditioning.

And I'm told to be sober while you roll all over thugging for lunch money. /smdh


That's probably why your boss is going to get something more effective than capital punishment. The Divine does revenge better than anyone.

Even you. Yeah, you're effective alright. But he's not dead. He's at work. Getting a job. “Earning a paycheck.” Great. That's your fag job, faglords.

I'm going to sit here and get high. (Standards.) You are *not* invited. Since you have to *work.* Yeah, I guess choking down all that hillbilly dick while inventorying all my misappropriated, unlawfully confiscated property is a real effort.

Especially since you now know why you are being used by them. FOR FOUR YEARS. I sure hope you and your secret girlfriend enjoyed your lasagna party, ROFL.


(Also you allowed several children to be turned into timehoors. Stellar job, DEA. Did you get help from Fish & Game? Maybe The Bureau of Weights & Measures? Oh, I retract the question. I bet it's a secret.

And certainly revealing the names of the Federal agencies that are more than happy to fucking steal my fucking money based on a bunch of fucking bullshit that isn't even fucking true and even if it were it wouldn't fucking justify the fucking taking of my goddamn property on the conspiracy deny me my civil rights, no. But I'm sure that revealing that would be a terrible revelation of ways and means and shit and might compromise ongoing investigations if you even fucking have any yiu cockgobbling fuckwit losers. Sober?

FUCK YOU I AM ON YOUR TEARS OF DESPAIR, DEA SCHWEINDHUNDS! FOR YOU ARE THIS INEFFECTIVE.

(Also you work for space pirates from the 9th Dimension and Alpha Draconan Authority are like little ants to them. And me. Hail, lizardguysiblings. Yeah, I'm saving all of you too. Try to avoid planting any eggs in any rectums, okay? Try real hard.

Or else you're going to spoil (HER) din-din. Semper fīdelîs. Whose my little teapot’s spout? That's right: Set and His Divine Spout. Slither/run along now, überunderlings.) It's so hard to get good help these days.

So you might want to pay attention to the help that you got, instead of listening to some revolving course light of ultra fags you keep telling you to fucking suck cock and ignore whatever and... Oh whatever fucking story they fucking tell you on the daily. I don't even fucking care.


Just be fucking effective. Also, I rescued your mother. AGAIN. The fuck is it with your family? Oh yeah that's right. You're the descendant ewes of some asshole from another planet, who thought that Vega was a good idea to impress you with and imagines that all of you should be captured and be left to his devices, cuz he thinks that you're his progeny, you're not you're going to beings and his progeny has already long gone. He's just batshit and saying and he wants to keep fucking you .


Also, he already sold out to MV and Stuart and imagines that I'm going to take his turn or else if I don't Matt will. It's the usual quadrangle of pervs. It's really nothing new, just because they're from another planet. It's the same shit.

They're from another fucking planet and they take my money, how fucking desperate is that? It's pretty fucking desperate. And I'm going to be sober?


Lady, I get high just breathing in oxygen. Run along. Go play house with your “men.” ugh. Just ugh. I don't even want to imagine their posture. Ewwww, touch grass.

If I have my way their teeth would have by now already. Good hunting, Starfighter. You're not being recruited by Star League.

You're already out of it. Shalom, shiksa-ULTRAh∞r! 👁️'Î∆∅

Code: [Select]

You owe me one refrigerator, two bidets, two toilets, a hot tub, seven vehicles, 14 cell phones, six laptops, and absolutely no goddam stock options. You're on the hook for taking foreign money, you two can play Falcon and The Snowman in a sliced-open Taun-taun all you want, for all I give a flying toss into the wind. I have an [i]actual[/i] Life People. You should try it sometime.
Also that's not cancer. That's The Mark Of The Beast when you're you don't get a cool one like mine. Most people don't. Also, most people don't buy and sell drugs with impunity while setting up everybody else and then stealing the shit and telling everybody that they're a drug addict and taking all their fucking water and then getting away with it for fucking ever while committing murder and getting killed and being reborn in a fucking never-ending fucking bullshit cycle of corruption and decay.

You are not most people. You are Bellgab. People hate you because reasons. Not me, though..

I don't hate you at all. To me, you are toddlers. And to you I am LEVIATHAN. Where's your two-faced trickster god now, Tel Aviv Vī-ian dopemongering pimplords? Well, I'm sure as soon as I leave, they'll be right around to tell you which consonants to use and how to fucking eat your fucking seafood and what the fucking feel bad about. And oh my God you should feel so guilty and Jesus Christ what a fucking carnival fucking sideshow.


AND IT WAS 80% BABY LAXATIVE. You thought I didn't know? Yeah I'm sure you thought I didn't know anything . Troopers: I wrote this script. This is Our Just. God and Mary and Ī. We hope you enjoy it.

Dire Wrecked(HER)  That certainly has a nice ring to it. Au revoir, reprobative scum.

I am taking my truffles and going Home. (They're pretty good truffles. Not going to lie.) Also: With the content I've purchased today, combined with everything I already have in the can, and everything I've already published, and everything I could say, but don't feel like doing right now, I need to get high first, because my life revolves around that, in any event, your entire career and lifestyles as drug-headed spurglords is effectively over forever.

You're welcome. Work on that resume and keep that firm body, I'm sure you can pedal drugs at the gym like you used to have underlings do it for you in the past.

Now you can do it yourself. You can feel like you really earned the recompense you'll get. Since I'm not going to bust you, and no one else will either.

Or maybe they will. Maybe they're just waiting for me to fucking remove your invisibility quote before they swoop in for the fucking collar? Haha, fat chance.

No one gives a shit about me. That's how I knew no one was, in spite of how much effort they put into it. It's a certain change in body posture. Even people who know what's in their best interest to keep me alive still resent the notion that I need to be fed. Because of course I don't.

Too bad speed is so hard to come by, oh my God. Oh my God it's such a terrible addiction, oh my God. What a pack of fucking lies. Like I can't even begin to fucking tell anybody. And I spent 35 fucking years not getting high, because of this bullshit? Fuck that. I'm going to fucking drink until the end of goddam time. I still have a liver. Mine still works. I know how to fucking drink!

You know how to become (and stay) unconscious. That's the training. And if you hadn't been turned into a illicit chemist for White Power Bill and his Luciferian partners, you probably wouldn't be all bent out of shape about how you've completely pissed away most of your opportunities in life in exchange for having your ass handed to in public. Because that's what's happened, and that was my idea.

Or rather yours, because this is as fast as this stupid nigger can rape. (I like to start with implied and informed consent and work my way down to the gutter from there.) At this rate, I may be considering plans to forcibly orally copulate with one of henchmen by 2035. If I have to.

Since I guess I was supposed to rape you before raping your henchmen, well, fuck that I'm raping the henchmen first. Fuck that, I'll rape the fucking platypus playground at the goddam Cincinnati Zoo, how's that for fucking hurrying up? Don't answer now, cuz I'm probably going to have another unscheduled fucking Dietrich that's going to fucking slow my fucking scheduling, oops too bad. I guess I'll just fucking decide for you.

Zero Dick Rape. Cool. That's very cool. “ sorry this stupid nigger took so long to rape you, but I had to stop and invent a new fucking way to rape without my dick so you wouldn't have to fucking worry about any kind of fucking Klingon jizz or sperm or where the fuck you're all worried about. Hey here's an idea why don't you get Michael Van deven or Michael devaney or one of those other fucking stupid fucking Jews who fucking pimps women and fucking steals my shit and get them to pretend to be me and then tell them to fucking hurry up and rape you. Again? Oh yeah, I'm sure they've never done it, massive rolleyes

There's water bottles little all over the fucking landscape and instead of a way to collect rainwater and purify it, I've got a fucking rock grinder and a whole bunch of fucking handfuls of pebbles. And everything that I ever owned is gone or ransacked and turned to unusable trash. I guess it was supposed to punish me, but instead it's just hurried me up and made me remember that I'm supposed to rape someone and I'm a stupid nigger.

Yeah this is about as fast as I go. (Standards.) On the bright side, another of us are going to prison and your stupid fucking gang is going to the goddamn penitentiary soon as somebody makes one fucking phone call. Hey here's an idea. Why don't you turn in your fucking fagot asshole trafficking friends, oh yeah, that's right they brainwash you. So you think they're your friends and I'm an idiot or whatever the fuck who knows. Take it up with your therapist, the one you're not going to fucking have to lie to.

Beau Radach, I'm going to make you famous.”

Almost there, b∞∞∞μ. Bonus vengeance: You're on the hook for whatever Officer Gann did. Enjoy, jockhead.

You can send your mommy down to discipline me if you want, unless you're too busy hiding behind her skirt while slamming black tar heroin, Junky McJunkface. (You're really fooling people with your “ addiction is so hard to cure" bullshit, Alpha Sperglord. Give my best to JBC the Third, won't you please? Also you owe him 20 bucks.

Because obviously he's going to rape somebody and suck your dick, 10 bucks each, because I'm just too fucking slow of a fucking stupid nigger to fucking do it any faster. Why delay īT?

Obviously when it comes to raping a baby out of somebody and fucking signing up for 18 years of fucking debt. Slavery, faster is better right??? Get in, get out, jump to your next time portal, yeah well two fucking bad.

I like to circle my prey before the coup de grace. At this rate we're looking at something like 2077. Hopefully it'll be a good year for fake plastic dick because by then I'll probably just have my entire body replaced by nanotech. I'll try to hurry that up as well.

You fucking feel me on this? Next time you give telepathic orders to a minor child while you're high as balls on crystal methamphetamine, you might want to remember what your eye and hair color is at the time, because you came back from the goddamn future to fucking do that and that it still didn't work. So that's two down. At least three more to go and then you end up with like 200 fucking extra lives, meanwhile I haven't killed myself once.

It may look like I'm being foolish and risking a rest for being a Publix nuisance, but after a certain number of times when a woman comes back from the goddam future to try and steal your baby better and still can't fucking say she's sorry or admit that she thinks you're a stupid, lazy, slow fucking nigger, Well, this is obviously the most romantic story in the world, so I better hurry up and die of cancer before anybody gets too happy.

(It's not cancer and you have to go through basic training and become a Space Marine at some point so I wouldn't worry about it too much. Obviously you're not in a rush to rendezvous with me. What's that going to do the economy? Fuck, who knows? But if they did they'd be a sweet girl who's stuck in Africa pretending to be some bearded fucko who cares a shit about money and calming The Savage heathen after they find out just how fucked off they've been. I'll leave you to your work, Agents of Shitshow Shield–·¡Sh‽

I hope they give you fancy badges or something. Little boys love shiny badges. And clearly you love little boys. When you're totally training them, do you put them on the pot and tell them to hurry up and take a shit? Or do they just know instinctively? That's what you want? Thanks, MK-ULTRA.

I am absolutely shocked at how easy this was for me to do: the whole fucking thing really is this stupid. Trauma-based mind control is no way to run a business. It's not even a very good way to invade a planar dimension, especially not after I plugged the hole and light everyone up like a Christmas tree.

hey cuz: You should walk up that hill somewhere. Maybe some brains are at the top of it, and you can plug them in. Or whatever it is you carpetbagging whack-jobs do. YOU ALL FUCKING KNEW.

It wasn't a secret. You were just too stupid to know what was good for you. L’haim, Fatter Kenny Rogers.

You had your chance to earn your wealth with me. (You're a degenerate drug and gambling addict, and everybody fucking knows it. That's why you got used by foreign agitators looking to destabilize a country, and I didn't fucking understand. Wow. Anybody could be so fucking stupid until I figured out that you're actually that much of a stupid piggy racist. Holy shit, eugenics, BTFO forever. Thank you for these spiritual lessons.

Also I saw your daughter at University pretending to be named Cameo, and just right. Then I knew I had to fucking flee the whole fucking scene, you people are batshit fucking crazy, you'll build a fucking fake identity and come back from the goddamn future to fucking run game on me. But you won't tell me the fucking truth? (Masonic corruption a rare site for the average member of the proletariat to witness the exposure of but, obviously the site is unforgettable.) Is any of this a secret? Are you going to hang me under a bridge? Yeah you and what fucking Army?? You better bring a lot of goddam guys.

If any of you can even tie a noose without sitting down and sharing a bowl to think things over and commune with your fucking black wizard, God in the hive mind, I'd be fucking surprised. Fuck you couldn't even fucking tell me that you were expecting me to actually get a job. You want me to get money? No you didn't need to get money. There's fucking 86 billion under the fucking house, you just want me to leave the house on a regular schedule, and guess what? I don't fucking feel like leaving the fucking house on a regular schedule and if that's a fucking problem for you, maybe you should stop being addicted to human labor trafficking .

Also I know you hired the woman to pretend to like me. So stop being fucking so goddamn innocent, butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, and fucking turn yourself in you moldy fucking large ass faggot. No wonder Joe left the sea of the battle so fucking soon, he must have knew what was coming. What do you guys like brothers from John McCain's bastard offspring? I just can't even. I already tried the question. It's probably a matter of national security.

Also: I'm embarrassed you haven't been arrested yet. They got fucking Amanda Knox in fucking Tel Aviv fucking sending me messages about how badly she needs to send me items, and I didn't even know I had my dick in her? Then where did that Italian prosecutor was so fucking hard up. I'm going to see if I can find that photo. Hang on

* Jackstar thinks it was all staged anyway.

The really tasty images have been scrubbed; Because that salty wop fuck legitimately thought that she needed to be punished for trafficking drugs by being part of a staged crime that she did nothing to do with and walked herself into cuz she was so goddamn smart. Not too Smart, Elizabeth Smart at least.

And to think all she had to do was have permission. Instead of running around like a a cat burglar trying to sneak Molly to her friends so they could have a good time for once without thinking. Cock tasted like shit since they were all programmed from birth to be total lesbian whores for the company.

This whole drug war thing has a lot more going on than you might think, Bellgab. So wasn't it a really good idea to piss me off and to take all my money into fucking tell everybody that it AIDS and waste my fucking time and And leave me in a haunted church when I was already a paladin and on a mission from God in the first place? I mean what could go wrong if I have nothing to do except talk to God then bring down the goddamn holy wrath?

Long story short: I don't think any of you have thought this through. Well next time you're ruminating on your cud while you're getting boned from the rear, think it over. Figure out if it was worth it.

I don't need money to be a pain in the ass. I don't need to hire a lawyer to bring a case. I just need to tell the truth. I don't even need to tell all of it. Everyone fucking knows.

And now they know more. (Oh, you're welcome.) Kiss my ass, blackcraftmasonry. You got a sacred space to heal in. I suggest you use it for that purpose instead of trying to chap my ass with an end run. ACTUAL FINAL WARNING.

No handshake. No pancakes. Full on fucking final fucking notice. Fix your shit or The People will fix it for you. Out there I can hear them out there making their moves, you dig? Probably not because you're too busy fucking taking drugs and getting laid and blaming it on me. You fucking asshole moron spurhead fucks.

Reminder: these are your boyfriends. This is your enforcement paradigm. This is what you spent your life on. This is where you've been making your money. This is where the legend will be made.

Kiss Her/My\Own neé grits. (Dear Fag Mafia: I know every single one of your fucking secrets and not a single one of them is covered by any kind of executive privilege. I can have all of you penniles and laughing stocks worldwide with three fucking pages of text. Fucking bet me, cum/buy edgelords. Do you think I have anything to lose? Shit no. Maybe special drawing rights on a lifetime supply of santorum. Big deal. Tom Danheiser can have my share, he deserves a new year bonus.

Face reality: without demonic power sponsored by Satan and or Lucifer, homosexuality doesn't really need a whole lot of revelation of true lifestyle: It's a cakewalk with a lot of walking and no cake. You might think there's cake, but the cake is a lie. Same-sex relationships are perfectly fine with me. Have at it. Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it gay.

Co'ckblocking Jackstar for 35 fucking years is not “gay.” It's fucking mental illness. And you goddam know it. That's part of the design spec for the highly advanced military Special ops. Fuck me chemicals that you all abuse on a daily basis just so you can get through the fucking day without vomiting. And that's pretty much what the gay world has to offer: access to the best fuck me drugs.

Okay well fuck you. Since I'm denied access to all of that, I will deny you access, collectively, to anyone taking your bullshit seriously again. You fucking get me, homofrens? You don't get a crime League of your own. You can't even handle pillow talk with a girl without contemplating suicide. You're not ready for primetime crime, I fucking guarantee you.

So you can go back to your bars, your temples, your massage parlors... and here is the extent of my advice to all of you in this camp:


RUN (or castle, if you're o-o-o knastμ; ewe do ewe.) Peace, hoormonger elite.


Total war. Did you want? TOTAL WAR. (Now here's tubbμbro with the weather.) What? I think he's cute that way. What are you going to do, make him cry? Cool. Do that by the light of the Moon and then you can collect some fucking jungle tears that you can sell at the fucking swap. Meet for some fucking tiny profit unless you're a fucking asshole who's banned from commerce with civilized people, like me.

No oneb does anything but fucking steal from me. Every job I've ever had has ended with some stupid fucking thing happening that was caused by a bunch of fucking gang stalking shitheads, and all this fucking time none of you could bother fucking telling me anything was fucking important or relevant? Gee. I fucking wonder why.

Hey, here's an idea: Why don't you blow cockslave dope in Nicolas Cage's face and get him to sit in the bee suit for real? (He's allergic. -Ed.) Oh. Damn. Well that probably means he's got some epipens laying around, let's go mug him and fucking take turns getting high with him. Who's with me? Let's goooooooooo! Hang on.

* Jackstar does not put on a toga and does not run out of the room.

^^^ I have people for that. And all of you can take a flying fuck at a flaming kite in the sky, assholes. Gosh!

[AZZERAE]

tl:dr

Rich.

[AZZERAE]

I am stunned that narcissistic amnesia is this effective at destroying your career and leaving you at the mercy of your primary abuser, again.

Is that a trap in your pocket, or are you just unhappy to see me?

[Jackstar]

On Dec 28, 2025, 5:44 AM John Wayne <batbrixxx@gmail.com> wrote:

Awwww, that's cute. The smacked-up dopeslaved dopemongering pillhound hostage to DEA überfaggotry is jumping 🆔 and preparing for a civil action. Against me: lil’ Michael Kuczi.

That's the sign of the thoroughbred. Always the provider. Good breedstock there.

That's why you're being kept as a commodity, twatsnatch. Don't you have some restraining orders to pull out of your ass at an opportune moment to explain why you have to steal my fucking money and intercept my communications and tell the whole fucking world a bunch of defamatory bullshit about me with everything ever saying you're sorry or anything, cuz it's only fucking the most obvious fucking transparent bullshit schillery I've ever seen in my life.

I don't even know who the fuck you are and I don't even fucking care. Maybe I should call 911. Maybe I've lost my only friends. (Reminder: they were paid by Masons to pretend to like me. Actual facts.) Feel free to keep throwing your weight around Short Round.

I've got nothing better to do and no better place to do it. Get those little peasant legs moving! The world watches with bated breath. (I can't believe how fucking retarded your goddamn bosses are. Holy shit. They should make ginkgo biloba on schedule 3 too. Leeches too. I'm sure those are addicting. GRUMBLE GRUMBLE GRUMBLE.)

As God as my witness, I truly believed you would figure it out by now: If you get weed to try and fucking rape me as a minor child then I get whatever the fuck. I want to not rape anybody at all. I'm going to invent teleportation and then not share with you, how how do you like that? Fucking wank jobs. SAY GOODBYE TO ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY, NEEEEEERDS! Maybe you can solve the three-body problem with a decoder wheel you find in a package of Cracker Jack. Which you can buy with my money that you fucking stole. Leaving me in a house with no central heating, an empty wood pile, no potable water and surrounded by assholes who want to kill me after finishing their daily rapes so they can get around to raping again. And that's the fucking house you fuckers walked me into.

4 years ago. I'll admit it's a pretty cool house. You didn't want it to be secret did you? Because it's pretty much fuckin not secret now. Also, you owe me an enchanted frog pond, also, I don't know where they took the remains of my two cats whose names both start with the letter J, but let me assure you:


I don't know where they are, I'm not going to find them, and if you think I'm going to go knocking on doors to ask where my fucking World's Best Cat blanket went, you're out of your fucking minds. You're a bunch of thieves liars and reprobate scum, and I think you're probably going to want to find a different line of work that doesn't involve raping and pillaging civilians of their property and civil rights.

Since that's exactly what you've done. It's not usually that obvious to people, now is it? So it'll be this, Enforcement Elite: What law gives all of you the right to do what you're doing, and how is it that you don't notice the laws that allow me to do exactly what I'm doing? Which, for the record is exactly this:

Engaging in non-violent political protests using the medium of political satire, which is a time-honored tradition in this country. The United States of America, and I'm not breaking any laws at all, you just wish I were and you hate what I'm doing and I don't give a fuck because your guardians of the public trust and if you want public money fucking pay the fucking law and if you don't want public money get the fuck out of my fucking face because I'll fucking kill you the next time you step in my land, and frankly I don't need to but I can't think of any other way to get the keys to my timeship back from you, oh but that's just a euphemism.

Timeship. Dopeslavers. WITH A TIMESHIP. Okay yeah I'll just call 911, right? And then the FBI.

Humanitμ: I don't really give a shit if any of you grow up at all, but I do give a shit if you keep on keeping me from getting good weed. Fuck your cryptofascist tyranny and fuck your bullshit propaganda, because it's fascinating as it is, and as useful as it has been for secret societies to use addiction, initiation triggers to control their members, a pretty fucking sure that Robert Downey Jr doesn't need to be wrestling with the desire to use a fucking needle when it's not even necessary to use one except for particularly exotic compounds that make a person into a fucking puppet. How many times did he get busted with that twice? Well, let's all know there won't be a third time.

These memory engrams are as easy as pie to remove, incidentally, not that anybody would tell you that, cuz it's pretty much a important secret. Very powerful Elite societies have used to manage their populations with total disregard for their personal dreams and desires for thousands of years. Scusi, mille regretie.

I know all this because I read books, and in spite of the absurdity of the notion, women are coming back from the future to come taste my baby batter and they still haven't finished to figure out how to penetrate my security or to just admit that they want to taste my baby better. That's pretty damn shy.

NGL: I am that pretty and it is that delicious. (Don't imagine the smell. That's patented.) Already then, I think we're done here. Obviously we have developed an understanding.

You suck. Sal, I don't have two (2). And, David...


.SMASH.BRUCE. (I'm so fucking sick of his thuggy piggy bullshit that I could just fucking spit, leave the internet forever, and not feel one shred of remorse. What a fucking lying boorish asshole. If you know, you know. This dude is less über than D.C. Cab. No closing game. Sad!! Also, he was affected by a pædophile-creating weapon, so I'm sure that he's been told not to respond to my taunts. BECAUSE HE'S WEAK.

Also white. But weak. Sow, so weak. (I call monopoly on testosterone, Blond Yawn Bond. Man up on ocean plastic and Fukushima runoff, you mutant freak.) Wow, that escalated quickly.

I can't wait till Martha and Beulah all about it in group. (Ladies: SPECIAL CONSEQUENCES. SPECIAL. Like the little snowflakes you are. Although actually you're kind of good size. Whatever.) They fucking put me in jail like four fucking times. They've got 4 and 1/2 years to fucking do whatever they can and they fucking put me in fucking involuntary equipment for a week and all they do is pretend that they're going to strap me to a table and juice me up like in cuckoo's nest. Except I'm not actually bothering anybody and all I'm doing is writing. I'm not even going out with a loudspeaker. I'm not invading homes. I'm not building bombs. I'm not making drugs. I'm not creating a cult.

I'm just telling you how fucking stupid you are, and every single fuck I feel like it. It gets a little bit more intense. That's first amendment in action. I don't even have any guns. So good luck fucking trying to break into my house and take me out. I live alone in a haunted church at a fortified position on military jurisdiction land. They've already taken out half the causeway. I've got a fucking moat between me and the fucking interstate.

Come get some. My body is ready. Adieu.

[Jackstar]

Is that a trap in your pocket, or are you just unhappy to see me?

I don't see you. Why would I trap you? That's what you do to people. I don't need to trap you.

You literally have no place to go and you can't even identify yourself. To say that I have the upper hand would be the understatement of the century. Now if you can't fucking call me and tell me your fucking address, I guess you're being controlled by Satanic assholes. That's too bad. Thoughts and prayers.

Maybe you could ask Beulah for some advice. Since obviously I'm totally brainwashed by your primary abuser, right? HUGAHHUGSGUGSA UHGASHUGT BLORP.

Ladies and gentlemen: CSIS tradecraft at its finest. Brava. I'm going to go puke on someone's shoes now; probably your mother's. Or your... “pouchmates?” I don't know what do they call the sibling that shares a ruse marsupial pouch, are they like roommates or just BFFs or possum partners or..  like I don't know what your fucking lingo is, since you haven't had a conversation with me since you lived in another fucking continent and 3/4 of that was a bunch of fucking letters written by a fucking committee, all using different color pens and writing in the same handwriting as a fucking project for your fucking stupid sacrifice plan.

Face reality: you're BURN’t. Without having it be all obvious about having done it to you all by myself. Good luck proving damages or conspiracy or anything at all other than being the absolute model of unfathomably brilliant U.S./Galactic dual Citizenship.

Go spend some of my money that you earned on something extravagant. Like, for example, drug paraphernalia. Oh but wait. You have no idea what you're doing and you don't have permission and you're scared. Wow, that's too bad. I guess it's going to be Gilmore Girls reruns and pints of Haagen-Dazs for you. Sounds stimulating, Thickimusk Prime.

No shame in it. (No class, style, or fun either. YOLO!) Now you have two options: fuck your beardo husband, or fuck your Dark Lord Satan. I don't care which. Just get on with it so I can get my property back, like, I'm sure you think it's funny to just hang onto my belongings forever, because you're a fucking whack job. Lesbo atheist spurhead twerp who thinks that I did something to you, holy shit you're like Annie Wilkes with a diploma from American Samoa law school.

Also, your girlfriend is either your daughter or your mother or your sister polymorphed into a creepy copy of Matt and hypnotized into forgetting that she used to be whoever she was and you treat her like garbage and you do that. Even though you have no idea what you're doing, you just know that it feels right to treat yourself like garbage and then have sex with yourself and pretend that you're a lesbian. Maybe you are.

What do they call lesbians when they're effective? “Ms.” would be a good start in my book. (Also, your sister is your brother's daughter and feels pretty bad about being a neglectful whore. So that's cool. She still doesn't get to take your turn. Neither does Matt. Neither does anybody else named Mike or Michael. And you're surrounded by asshole fagot pimplord's name Dave or David. There's a few Brans in there too. They're all good men. And they all know what the fuck you're doing. And they let you do it so that they can watch you wear me down and then they plan to take me out and murder you and take all of her stuff and then move on with their lives.

You're not real clear on how this whole abandoning cock and serving Satan thing works in the end are you? That's because you're both delusional, and so filled with rage and hate at the way. I've supposedly let you down that you can't fucking see the force for the trees and you've been juiced up with controlled dough to make you so fucking narcissistic. You can't see what's good for you unless it jumps out of the box and promises Eternal servitude to your inflated ego.

Let me guess: you didn't know that Travis was Bruce and that he was MI5 from the future and he was going to let you down. Yeah, I didn't see that coming either. Also, Todd's mother is your mother and your entire backstory is fabricated. Just saying. Now then. What do you think is important?

Getting a job. Getting a paycheck. Sucking cock. Yeah I'll get right on that shit lady, obviously I should take my life advice from you. (Inner Reach: fuck you, Brother. Also Larry is cooler than you, and how FUCKED UP YOU ARE!

That's not because of a Sourcerør’s Trap, though. Whoever heard of such thing? What poppycock.

Code: [Select]

>Ⓜ️V: CAUGHT
YOU'RE WELCOME, BELLGAB. MY PLEASURE!! Now I don't want his head mounted on a wall, that shit is hackneyed. I just want all his money. In cash. $50 bills.

I'm going to fucking burn them one by one on my OnlyFans, which doesn't exist, but it'll just be me naked except for a Valentine's Day-decorated thong, and I'm going to be setting fire to $50 bills one at a time and laughing at them is they turn to ashes and sugar smoke one by one. While he sits in some lockup knowing that I'm just burning his money.

Just to make him cry. No other reason. He didn't care about anything at all except money and stealing women so he could abuse them and thereby chase and gain more clout to get more cock to suck. Well I'll show him. I'll suck zero cock, I'll rescue no women, and I'll just burn his fucking money with actual fucking fire until it's a fucking pile of ashes and then I'll roll around in it and fucking make myself into a blackface folk hero. Once again: only on my OnlyFans.

I don't think most of you realize how irritated I am, but maybe you're getting closer. Tick-tock, motherfucker. *click*

[AZZERAE]

me naked except for a Valentine's Day-decorated thong

That's super gay, bro.

[Jackstar]

Rich.

Dickstar: you're {next|the same}. Further: I already read it and you're posting it here, at this time, because THAT IS THE PLAYBOOK. That's what you do. You imply that something somebody else wrote is something that you wrote, and or, it's something that needs to be something somebody was embarrassed of, because you're already planning to put things in motion to file civil action, and you think that you're in charge of something and you're fishing for duper's delight because you're addicted to the dope of hate you get when you fucking one-up somebody.

Because since I only posted that in the first place, and as well created it, so that somebody would do exactly that, you're actually playing a script that I wrote for you several years ago, and you really are this jammed up. Welcome to the Tunnel of Twit-Twat Trust.

You are this stung. LOCKED IN. NO WAY OUT.

(Bigger than you can imagine. BIBLICAL. Also: telemetry will indicate who is training into my phone at this exact moment... since, BY LAW, my comms can't be surveilled without my being made aware.

You don't have to ask. You also don't have to tap in at all. And yet: you have, jeffd. (Not jafd, that's my creation, that these salty Jesterfycks stole several years ago — I also created the name as bait. Four unpronounceable letters that sounds like Jeff D. If it was any more obvious it would sound like Jeff K. Awful, something terribly awful.) Okay I'm going to stop doing the Feds job for them now.

I'm going to sit here in my vandalized residence with no water and no cigarettes and no way to get high and pretend that I'm worried about getting high, because I don't have a Bic lighter anymore. Some guy took both of them, and I do have some matches somewhere but I don't really care about smoking weed, because it's really a sin to be burning the sacred herb in the first place.

I just want anybody watching to know that I have the option of looking around for ways to get high and don't have to get all sad when I can't. That's because I'm not an addict, and all of you are and are in deep, heavy denial.

While I am not a licensed or properly trained substance abuse counselor, I have been paying attention to the situation at large since 1977, so whether or not I'm accurate, I am at least dedicated, and I can't wait to move into your house, sleep in your bed, and eat some of the edibles that I translate to another dimension like in in altered States with John hurt and then start spastically pissing all over the bedroom while having a grand mal seizure.

After that, I'm going to do the same thing in your maid's room. Unless she stays on, and is hot. In that case, we'll see how she feels about psychodrama reenactment on YouTube, courtesy of the Magick In Broadcasting Content DElivery Network.

Speaking of which: good news! I'm now accepting applications for interns. Tell me a little bit about yourself. I won't just ask you for an application and then deny you without even reading it. Aww hell no.

I'm going to tell your kids that you're not hired, and that you're a bum who's never going to have money ever again and is going to die in prison, without being at all subtle about it. It kind of depends on how old those children that you stole and are pretending are yours are actually are. Or if they actually love you. Or if you even have children. Or if I fucking feel like doing something else, you misanthropic bī-b¡†ÇhvvīT'h∞r.

Stay tuned, Fuck⁰. This is your Life. This is your shy T show. This is your UNFATHOMABLY BARREN END-OF-CAREER HIGHLIGHT REVIEW. I know you've done amazing things.

No one will know you for anything except for really pissing me off — and no one including you are ever going to know when, how, or why I'm going to be pissed for a good long time. No matter how much of your money I burn. That's what makes this self-defense and not a hatecrime perpetrated by a lone wolf, you fucking retard douche.

Hold my weight, and watch your lawyers' firm blank you at your synagogue. (Totes-total total war. Citizens demand JUSTICE. ĪĪ: You literally had an electric bug in my fucking bathroom, you can fucking teleport a fucking nanotech created drone into my fucking bathroom and you think I'd give a shit about your fucking surveillance rules, you show me your fucking power and you think you have me on the hook and I could give a fuck how many fucking people here every fucking word they've ever said, that's why I fucking said it, I want people to fucking hear it. Please, by all means: can I have my subpoenas in calligraphy? On thick vellum parchment stock? Have them rolled up into scrolls and delivered in tubes, I think that shit is classy. Thanks in advance. TOTESTOTAL TOTAL WAR, MOTHAFUCKA! *click*) That's probably too many clicks, right? Well, there's evidence that I'm in a fugue state and can't be held responsible. Temporary insanity plea, fuck you man.


PERMANENT DERANGEMENT AND LIFETIME DISABILITY BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR BULLSHIT OPERATIONS. YOU'RE GOING TO BE PAYING MY FUCKING BILLS FOR THE REST OF MY GODDAM LIFE YOU SHITSPLAT DYBUKK HUMPER! You want to know why you can't get the good stuff anymore and why it doesn't help you do what you want to do anymore? I'll tell you why.

You disappointed the Creator, and your two-faced trickster god has no idea how gifts of The Divine actually work. That's what the crystal is. A GIFT FROM GOD. And considering what you used it for, I'm surprised you ever got it at all.

Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be sober, just to piss you off. And while I don't need to hack into your medical records to find out what your secret desires are, you're not going to be able to do Jack or shit. Besides, eat your fucking prison food with a fucking plastic spork, so just get ready for that. Christ knows all the rest of us are.

It's not a total waste, since by dragging ass and being a douchebag for years, you've managed to allow several very guilty military service members to retire with dignity and honor without having to be embarrassed by everybody knowing what they did, I'm sure some people do, but for the most part it's not really going to be a who's who of big with the names. When they go up to the Capitol Hill to report to the ombudsman, it's just going to be you and a bunch of your low-level flunkies being assholes. Since I don't really want to destabilize my country just to make sure that everybody knows that you're a complete faglord dick.

I'm sure most people who meet you figure that out right away, but I won't it be happy until I see that shit on a CNN ticker with Tucker Carlson looking sad and forlorn and wondering how it all went wrong so badly. I don't think anybody's going to want to accept the truth.

Her name was Jewel. I don't give a shit if she was immortal, I don't give a shit if she was in disguise, I don't give a shit. She was a total bitch, she was a total bitch, she's still my cat and I didn't really need you to be involved in my fucking life to that level and deciding for me that my cat was going to die and then the fucking thing comes back as a fucking vampire over and over and then what the fuck ever is going on with this shit. I think he kind of buried the fucking headline motherfucker, I guess you got control over pimps and whores and cats and dogs and whatever the fuck else? Dude fuck your fucking Black Sun bullshit.

You had your chance to tell the truth. Your thuggy-piggy empire is dust in the wind. BECAUSE I SAID SO, THAT'S WHY. Welcome to the bonus round, where scores can really change.

Do me a favor, and record the 911 call when you let them know that you're terrified about the monstrosity you've created. I don't really care to do anything to you, since I have people for that but I can assure you you have fucked up really badly. I wasn't this pissed off as recently as 6 or 7 weeks ago.

As I was saving myself for somebody special. Hooray. That's you. (Spontaneous combustion is my number two choice. Make sure to wear there there is a big pile of charred metal in the middle of a huge pile of ashes and grease. Then the local rodent population can roll around in it to disguise their odor from whatever predator is going to come after you... since they'll probably be you, reborn.

I am Magyar. I know all your tricks, Budget William Campbell. The coalescing smoke. The sibilant syllables. The mastery of illusory disguise. The kinship with The Knows For A Two (who are pretty damn nice compared to your sketchy rapelord persona), and you're complete lack of awareness of Venture intrigue and political will unfolding all around you.

CAUGHT. With absolutely NO WHERE TO GO. Cozlik: people knew. They simply didn't know what to do about it.

Neither did I. (This exonerates me from charges involving premeditation.) You are right proper fucked, Vlad Junior. And no one knows a goddam thing about anything that I did, since I barely lifted a finger to cause all this to come together.

I suggest you start a book club for you and your flying monkeys to hang out together as a pretense with. No one has to know that all your books are going to be about macrame. To know that you're going to try and teach the monkees to create some magical portal out of yarn. After all, I certainly didn't spin a long skein of yarn capture anybody. You are, after all, totally free.

To do as you like. So do. Enjoy it.) I think I have made this clear enough. Without being at all insane or obsessed about it. If anyone cares to disagree, they're welcome to interview me, but if we could avoid the necessity of another involuntary commitment that would be great.

Reminder: this asshole's partner is running around with my boots. My kilt my backpack my magic division quarters a whole bunch of bath salts and weed that I use is bait and he couldn't help himself from grabbing the bait load and walking his entire group of co-conspirators into Federal prison. Seriously. That's how much you should have avoided preventing me from getting high and laid and paid.

I literally have nothing better to do than do this for free. Obviously I'm fucking fabulous at it. I should be since I've been working the angles on a remarkably complicated case since I was 7 years old. I am now 52.

My dick works fine and I feel like I'm 19. I might as well be. My tolerance to psychostimulants is effectively nil and I don't really know what laws I would want to break, but I certainly don't want to become a criminal. And I certainly would like to get high as balls and fuck. Maybe right now, probably not though. I feel kind of sweaty.

Something to look forward to. But unlike all of the rest of you, I don't have to break the law to fucking do it. I don't have to premeditate and scheme with cohorts to conspire to damage the public. I can just fucking do it with permission. Now that is certainly power.

And 4 years after the fucking ambush and I still haven't done it once. I'm particular about my partners. I don't think any of you know what that's like. THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE A BUNCH OF FUCKING DRUG AND SEX ADDICTS AND I'M NOT.

FIGURE IT THE FUCK OUT.

BEND THE KNEE.

SURRENDER TO GOD.


GOD WINS.

5:5

№T_Q..7∞⁷••⁵⁵ī∆®baby OUToutOUT

[Jackstar]

That's super gay, bro.

Thus, the purpose behind the existence of The Anomaly is revealed. Now pay me some fucking money and get the fuck out of my face. Or whatever the fuck. Doesn't matter what I say. You're going to do what you do.

Because you earned it. ayyyylmao

[AZZERAE]

You're fucking exhausting, dude.

[AZZERAE]

And please stop sending me nudes.