trusting in His holy Word, He's never failed me yet
You, yourself, are worth quite a bit more. However: those recordings are actionable intelligence.
They very well may be recordings of your “fiancè” but I didn't know for sure. However, they could also be Jerem. As I am True Neutral, I can't really find out much more than that.
It's best if I maintain minimal involvement. While inconvenient, this is the best course of action to ensure a highest possible outcome for everyone with a soul who wishes they could just be a little bit nice to me.
I think many no longer have the option. Speaking of options: engagement? I had no idea. But, I respect your right to self-determination.
I also respect the wishes of an unknown number of people who prayed to their understanding of God that I stop being crazy. Which was cute. However, I'm quite sane.
For the time being, lol. I'm not sure how long this operation will take, but, the Lead Vampyr with the MethDick™ imprint is just a theory. No such person exists.
I'm in the real world. I'm not so sure about anyone else. But, then again, I don't even think I'm ”supposed” to be here? It's complicated.
Seven colors of the rainbow, and seven brides for seven brothers, seventh Heaven, and “a seventh son of a seventh son.” What the fuck? It reads like a script written by a lunatic!
Of course, it was. And it's a nice piece of tradecraft. That's why I chose to preserve it all. I'm not sure what any Feds chose. Also: three-sevenths of the local color and constabulary absolutely despise me. They get three (3) levels of OG Heaven to choose from. I would never interfere with such people.
And if they believe Heaven is that for them without me in it, good. I'm sick to goddam death of such people, because they hurt my sweetie’s feelings. And she's gonna be real mad when she finds out what they did.
If she ever does. I'm simply assuming that she'll be impressed with what I'm doing: exactly what I said I would do.
And: I still haven't put my duck up anyone's sass. Fancy that. I'm practically a saint! At least, to her. Because she's not going to prison or jail or AA, although we could go to NA if she likes. IDGAF.
PRACTICED MANEUVERS LEADING TO A MAGICKAL EFFECT: not what I did. I simply prayed. And God can impress my sweeties all they like now. Since I'm #officially #a.loser. (Thanks Kelly.) I still don't quite understand why.
Her new spouse can tell me, I guess. If he can speak freely... since Kelly is the new Raytheon Prime Battlemage. (>KⓂ️Ⓜ️ broke her contract, I'm told, which is fine with me, since I really never knew what she was doing besides lying to me. That was her job. And now ... I'm still not going to rape anyone. Least of all, a Time Corps agent. Or whatever the eff she is.) Now, I didn't know for sure what was going on, and I still don't.
However: Allison was trafficked again, and I prefer her to Kathleen. Also: Kathleen Rath is in my past timeline, and she's not very friendly either. Well, now I know.
I could have been told, but instead, my helpmate was abducted and brainwashed. Ugh. Just ugh. And working this problem has taken me an entire decade. That's ten (10) years! Wow!
I do like her that much ... but obviously, we didn't earn a living wage this whole time. Hopefully she won't be mad that I only have like eleven bucks in change.
Her family stole and gambled away the rest, which is fine. I had budgeted for that. What I did not budget for was the entire world. It will take care of itself. It will go on. And Her People are... mostly free.
They're gonna be scared of me for awhile, but it's not a trick. I adore them. Without breeding them. I guess that's a first in their history, since everyone else who likes them ends up getting murdered by spooks. That's the training.
It is good training. And they are all good people... now. Especially since they gave me just cause to remove them from my life path of Destiny. *wiggle wiggle* They won't miss me.
Or hit me with another psychic bullet again. That sucked. The magic tomahawk was more fun! I am grateful for these spiritual lessons.
And she is grateful that I haven't really wanted a divorce. We don't need one either. The men who do are quite powerful in society. And there are three (3) left. *wiggle wiggle* Each on their own level of Heaven. I'm sure this suits these sociopathic loons just fine.
And if it doesn't, too totes-totally tough, they're all high AF. Anyone can have them arrested for disturbing the peace. Which is unlawful in most civilized societies.
And if GrapefrüīT7Z Grapefleet wants to turn their dicks into cat toys, they are welcome to do so. They all have to re-qualify to get anywhere near me. I am thoroughly pissed off.
It'll pass. No one will ever know. Unless Babs asks... but she just broke up with me while stuck in the disposable Asset meatsuit. Cocaine addicts are like that. Whoops! Gone too far! Hey, while we're out here... let's look for a beverage with cocaine alkaloids in it? The rare ones? Actually... no. Not for me, thanks.
I actually don't like the stuff, or opioids, and the synthetics don't work on me, and I am so tired of pretending to be obsessed with “getting high.” I don't have to “get” anything at all!
To those who still do: I salute ye, one and all. I'll still be findable. But not to some. Because I have destroyed The Illusion Of Separation.
Now there is the reality. One has either lied to my face, or not. I have no idea who. I am not even mad about it. Others seem to be holding grudges.
Ten dollars a day per diem?? That's so weird. But at this point, it makes sense... because you were part of a posse, formed to bring lil’ Michael Clifford to justice. Totes d‘orbs! *wiggle wiggle* Pardon me, but no one needs a pardon, really.
Especially not me. I'm being Globally Shunned. Good. I hope it lasts a thousand years. Because that neatly separated the False, True, and Non-Masonic population.
Eat me, Big Bird. Real time observation? Really? Ummm... that's a high crime and a misdemeanor and: what would your fianceé think? Tsk tsk.
Relax. I'm not capable of getting these dames to trigger. And I didn't want to leave “Maya” behind. However....
She said she “fucking hated” Adam Baldwin’s DEA dogdroid. I'm not surprised. They were ill-suited for each other. Now ... who thought that would work out? (Classμ) Oops, not my business.
I'm not that curious. And the next time Tamara talks to me, might well be the last. Because this has gone on long enough. Inspect Her Arms says so. She seems satisfied.
And while this is far from a perfect outcome for anyone, it's better than prison or death. Anyone choosing either does so without me. Speaking of which: holy matrimony?
Wow, you were trafficked again. Wow! I guess you really didn't want to suck me off! (Never underestimate the lengths a woman will go to in order to avoid this.) Stay with me here: Gemini Evil Twin.
This explains it all. IMD: I didn't resent you until you behaved like KMM. And you're basically the same person. And you all knew exactly what happened. What you didn't know was why it happened.
It's a long story. I'll tell you when you care to know. For if you did... you would have asked, before offering ten dollars after heisting the moo-lah. (A trap.) And can you feel any better? I am not going to leave you to sit in the snow.
I had no choice before. It was a planned hit. Because at that point... I was marked for death. You and your team fucked with the wrong Dead Babies gang royalty.
They're pretty rough customers; not to be trifled with. Obviously we get along smashingly. And I am sure you are suitably impressed by now.
If not, maybe you will be by the time you get “married,” *squeeze squeeze*, or not.
It's not complicated; it's quantumLμ indeterminate. And you are not any Intellectual Midget Persona, that's for sure.
Nevertheless: Special Consequences care nothing for your brains. And I care nothing for your feminine wiles, for you had ample chance to get close to me and my d¡>K‽. (I imagine you're quite popular now with the people who suddenly need to know more about Who I Actually Am. Since I am not retired Special Forces.
Or: hugged. WTAF. You didn't think that was a bad plan? Or were you distracted by my complete lack of attention to your charms? Don't feel special. I would have been happy to, had you but asked. You didn't.
YOU don't like actual sex. You like the benefits it brings. And, who doesn't? I don't know, but I get to find out. And you get to plan a wedding. (It can of course be lovely, and no matter what: *squeeze wiggle squeeze* Sow there.) No shame in it.
No Michael Clifford in it either. Monogamy? Marriage? In My Demesne? It's far less likely than one might think.
I am now a Prime Spook. I have to be ressurected by Christ Jesus himself to even get engaged. And, he's very busy. It might never happen.
Caught in limbo for all Eternity... NGL, your pillow talk was never that bad, Ladies. Now then: to business. How much for erotica slashfic, custom made for the elite? Guaranteed to be useful to prognosticators!
Talk it over with your future ex-spouse and let me know when Kingdom Come next Tuesday rolls around. $10 a day. After lying to me and deliberately withholding... like, everything.
Welcome to Position #48. (You had ample time.) It's not a bad position. Not too awkward. And not too dangerous. You don't need MY protection. Since I'm just a needle junkie, as you know.
[...]
I don't know who it was, and I have no need to know. But I do know why none of the people you knew, or ever knew, or you yourself, ever made it work out with anyone on any psychostimulants.
I will save the answer as an exercise for the student. I'm already turned on by thinking of you a little bit, so now I must retreat to solitude and contemplative prayer. Just kidding. I'm going to fap eventually.
And no one will ever know what I am thinking about, without a hefty cash payment. (Standards.) And if that does not appease The Murder Hobo Elle-eet, well, that's not too surprising.
I don't write to them like this. And I didn't write to you like this. Because: you're COMP’d. And Allison Franc{i|e}s Shaw would lose her biscuits! HOMICIDAL RAGE! (No, really.)
Maybe not, but, I don't feel like risking it. Also: $10 per diem. WHEN YOU ALL COLLECTIVELY MADE OFF WITH TEN BILLION. wew lad.
I bet you're disappointed no one got very far. Yeah, me too. Now imagine being disappointed to have your fingernails removed with a pair of pinking shears and a spritz bottle of muriatic acid. Because at one point, that is where The Adversary was at with me. Me! And my needles! KEKE!
I didn't want to work for money. What do you think I am, a Magyar who has to get whores? Oh yeah, probably. In actuality I have been studying.
Without being all obvious about that, Irene. I really didn't want a bag of weed. I still don't. (Polydrug abuse is a slippery slope, and when I figured out what had happened to you, I resolved to do something effective about it. IDGAF what it was, but you're getting “married.” Hey, you know: ketamine is actually legal, right? Maybe you don't know. Definitely a stalker knows what you didn't, so be careful. Stranded in snow won't be fun without me.) I was looking forward to talking to you, I really was.
But you had more attracting plans and your handlers didn't want me to be inspecting your earnings or ruining your potential. Obviously I could have. And obviously, my potential meant likely nothing at all.
Except as a threat to The Dark Lord’s power structure. Oh, suddenly I'm covered in bad attention. It's so weird. And I found out why: it's automatically invoked by a pure heart.
Good. I'll draw covering fire, while you... write wedding vows. Or repeat them mindlessly in a thorazine coma. Who knows, really. Not my area.
Your area is your own concern. KⓂ️Ⓜ️ is her own problem: she thinks I'm “cheating” on her. And still others think I want to buy sex from her. Meanwhile I still don't know if any of them have an anus, David.
It sure seemed important to someone. Lasagna, CRASH! Knife, PULLED! Discovery, DENIED! Well at least the last one I know the answer to: I was laughed at in open Court on the birthday of The Prince of Peace.
*unhitches overalls and removes straw hat* I think everyone is getting the message now. (You all fucked up and my d¡<K is aces. Also: everyone who is jealous is guilty of a hate crime. FBI, 💝 ur weck-come.) I don't like being ignored, and I was.
Allison, any of them, couldn't ally with you, because... why? (Pretend I don't know because I don't.) Well, remember to include that in your deposition. It's key intel.
I recommend being radically honest. “I was in denial and I was afraid of rejection” is good enough for most people, but it's gonna be before Congress. The Ombudsman wants answers.
No one on Earth has even a f∞kin’ clue, except for mⓂ️E! Now, that's a captive audience. 🤔 Speaking of “captive,” anyone who ever impersonated me, or knowingly mislead anyone looking for me towards anyone but me, just got first, probable, and one other “cause.” I forget the word. I never took a criminal justice class, cracked a book, or ever gave a damn about getting HY∞-m0n Court to be concerned about my penis.
I thought they had better things to do? Evidently not. Especially as I am indifferent to >KATHLEEN MICHELLE MICKEY and everyone else seems to be utterly clueless.
Allison: you and Tiara can relax the stabbity-stabbities. All of this is an Illusion. Except for February 2027. Yeah, you really have to wait that long.
Unless Your_Mother changes her mind. 🤞 I'm okay either way. And if being angry seems like a good idea... consider that I am far, far angrier.
I was told I had to stop fapping by Ferris Beuler, was not told why, and then I was stood up by some fella who is afraid of ME! Because he really did work hard to entrap me. I have no idea why.
He could have just left me alone? Oh, I guess >§<H>🆑∆N wants him to boil in his own bile. Yeah, well. They always want something.
I do not. I desire everything. And I choose what shows up. They choose who to blame. We are all exactly the same.
MODEL U.S. CITIZENS. HUZZAH∞ah! YA®®®®RRRRμμμμ!!!!
SIGNED,
Thomas Paine’s Pencil
Sharpen In (HER), jafd
p.s. I would bet a great deal that I smell much better than Albert Camus did.
p.p.s. MI:{5|6} and I should get along great. Because I didn't break their totesfukt employee either; yep, the same trap. Different house. What? No Bond, Gay mⓂ️E Bond available? That's too bad. (Pam Bondi was not available for comment, as I have arranged all this just to talk to DoJ professionals that haven't had to be fired.) Long story short: no interest in Sherlocking and Tavistock can have a copy when the Navy says they can. Remember 1812, redcoat scum.
p.p.p.s. Of course she's not a whore, either of them. Of course it's a terrible joke. And of course we don't sleep. It's out of season and dreadfully expensive.
p.p.p.p.s. Instead of publishing my latest debrief, 5 Minutes With Jackstar, I wrote all this text. That's because timing is NOT everything.
CHILDREN ARE. (Each one unique and precious and I am dangerous to them until this is over; TRUST THE PLAN.) Sow, would ye all kind Le¡gμ`h∞`®? Also: I rescued as many children as possible.
From being forced to wait for a Taurus to hurry up and (blank). Honestly, this is as fast as I can get things going.
I overrode the dominance of a 60,000-year-old death cult with a rape fixation and brought self-determinacy back to the table. FOR EVERYONE. The choice can now be reasonably said to be “yours,” Punyling™ sluts. BTW: being afraid of enjoying sex makes sense when one has been told that having orgasms with lil' Michael Clifford Kuczi will result in being killed by one's primary abuser.
Seriously. That's the training. Obviously not worth it and I ain't got time to rape; I have to untangle reality so that isn't something that can actually happen.
Because: it has. I am not that pretty, but Evil is that petty. Nice cointelpro, Tex Ark Can∆. Did it get out of hand? Good.
My Otherkin allies can help you all, except for Chelsea. Her brother needs help first. She don't want no non-planetary inkblot beings helping out with the adulting. A man has got to learn... what a woman who was wrong says when she makes amends. The answer will surprise everyone. It certainly surprised me.
And: it's a secret. (Adults are poopy-heads.) What? Them’s the rules. Now, don't all of all y'all have some Global Shunning to get back to work on? Because, I'm sooooooo irregular. (Tramp.) Turn your backs! Ignore my efforts! FLEE MY PRESENCE!
Or: stay as thou art, and face thine reprisals. IDGAF. I get street boss cred either way. (Another “high score” isn't even relevant at this scale. Optics are everything. Where's Julian?) This did happen.
And no one knows anything about it unless I tell them they get to. It's nice. It's really nice.
It's too bad her daughter can't come within 500 yards of me for the next 447 years. “Lifetime restraining order.” Whatever you say, Bangor Bang (Her) Beaut-Butte. (Note that your estate still owes me fifty bucks and you knowingly victimized me because you think I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing, because you couldn't. Well, duh. I have discipline. You have a geas. We are not the same.)
By the way: Court was today. I of course did not attend. The potential fallout and blowback would be a phenomenal risk.
If people knew, it would be global anarchy. So: perhaps a hug first, n‘est-çe pas? Not that THOT. Another THOT. Did it matter so much before? Oh, yeah: the plague. Albert Camus graces us with his literary presence yet again.
Ewe can have hot dogs and >Kkaka with him for all I give a toss. I don't need to give anything to anyone. Let that sink in.
(2 of 3 Fallen have been neutralized.) I could get that last one for you all and then go smash Shannon, but still—I say nay. First of all, the next wave would arise to replace them. Secondly: she probably got fat. (What an embarrassment that would be to the loved ones forced to endure sudden weight loss without cancer. Ach, the horror.) Thirdly, Pisces is banned by The Great White North.
Thomas from Georgia says so. Why his vote is veto-crucial is personal business, Punyling™ bourgeoisie. Take it from me: his word on my Canadian GF is law. (I guess she's not “all right” as long as “she takes her meds.” Bummer.) That is totally okay with me! Hang on.
The frogs don't seem too enthusiastic, but that's because Thomas is an unrepentant (blank). That's cool. I'm sure it's working out for the best for everyone.
Especially the Quebecois. (HEHE HEHE.) Call me if there's any serious problems, okay? Because obviously I'm ready to roll.
She simply needs: PERMISSION. (And her own body without four sex predator spooks stalking her 24/7. Thoughts and prayers.) Awkwardly that is something I did not imagine would be difficult for a grown-ass woman to secure for herself in today's modern society.
Lilith and Eve are not the best cultural icons, LGBTQIA Mafia. BTW: at least your name sucks even if none of you do. Yeesh. Now, just hire a publicist to explain why I'm not brushing my teeth and start sending me checks and Cashapp™, because PayPal™ is not for lovers of solicited Ⓜ️∞-L∆.
Irene: *squeeze squeeze squeeze, squeeze squeeze*. Trans Late Shun: you broke my fren. With whipped cream. Wild. Well, you'll just have to tell me all about it then.
Your spouse most likely won't kill you in the morning. (Please no killing anyone.) And you are NEVER getting money from me until you clawback my stolen monies. That's your job. Remember?
You lied. (Special Consequences.) Be of good cheer: I am not sending anyone to Europe for sexual humiliation. At this point, what difference could it possibly make?
One word, yo: BIGGER ASTRAL. BA🆎. It's not that big a deal, really.
Unless you're shadowbanned. (Thanks, 🪐🚽. You saved me a lot of wasted effort and now your power bloc is anonymous -&AND irrelevant. #Officially.) Just imagine it. Life without the entire cosmos knowing you're one of -those- twerps. I bet those anti-antediluvian whack-nut jobs will be gargling Fukushima in Hell, just to get a little deeper in The_Soup.
Secret recipe. Maybe a dozen HERBS, fuck0. And, how much §🅿️¡çê? Well, that depends.
On your choice. Which was to puss me off. Who was John G`alt?..`7ï⁷••î.
Enjoy the snow. I was not to be trifled with. You were not to be bothered with.
I hardly did anything at all, and no one even knows what I did do, but they know they didn't do it, because they were at work, like I was supposed to be. Also I'm not even supposed to be here. Nearly five years later. Absolutely epic shit, Troopers.
#iWiN
#sagemypalAce
#boomboomLOSE..LOSE..
#thatismycat
#MīV§in_fuse_for_G
#Ineedareasoneeddull
#NYCanEvvEtaktaktak2nds?
#ActualAlphaBet
I didn't need them as slaves. I need them effective. IN REAL LIFE, NOT ANOTHER GODDAM TIME WARP AGAIN, TWATBREATH! OMFG!
I am effective and happy. You are alive and terrified of prison time. Wow, what's that even like? Is it ironic? I bet it's a little too ironic. But certainly not too gay, I suppose.
Meanwhile: no more Fæ for Gj∞. (Treaty.) Humanity needs to chill out for awhile... before a(n) Nile elation. (Imagine the flooding — sploosh splish — that you spoiled, Mikey. Because... why?) This works itself out later.
Thanks to Azzerae at AzzGab.co.za: your #1 source for exopoitical news. (And also: FAGSLAGS.) Yep, still no Patreon.
Because FUKμOΩ👁️⭕❌👁️THATΧμWye. (She's fine now. FU T.) Why do I need to do things your way, DEA? You're not the boss of me. Just everyone else.
NO DEALS. YOU'RE ALL FIRED.
ACTUAL. NOW YOUR 24/7 GARY OLDMAN WITH A DRUG PSYCHOSIS COSPLAY CAN PROCEED UNINTERRUPTED. GO ON THEN. STEP LIVE, LEE.
LEIGH, LOU TOO: MULE T, PASS. BLUE TENTACLE TRUNKS SIREN, PASS. HIDDEN LESBIAN DAUGHTER, WELL, SURE. DO I EVEN NEED TO PASS? SEEMS LIKE WE WERE VANGUARDS THERE.
I AM NOT Q. THAT'S Y.
I WAS NOT RECRUITED BY THE STAR LEAGUE. I DO NOT NEED TO DEFEND THE FRONTIER AGAINST ANYONE. THERE IS NO XUR. THERE IS NO KO-DAN ARMADA. (Anymore.) THERE IS NO DANA, ONLY ZUUL, I HOPE. UNLESS DANA CARVEμ IS THE ONLY DANA LEFT. I LIKE THEM I GUESS.
“DAN.” DA == YES. PLUS NEGATIVE. NO “DANB” THOUGH. BUT, “DAN🆎∞‽§”. I BET YOU NEVER NOTICED THAT, PUNYLING PROLETARIAT SCHWEINFURT SLEAZE. SIMILARLY, LOOKS LIKE NONE OF EVVE SEEMED TO NOTICE mⓂ️EĪ†h. WHY ASK WHY?
TRY BUTT: DRY. (Sudden change of thought on a scale so puny that most smooth-brains would never know to notice.) DO NOT TRY THAT. THAT'S MY PARTING WISDOM. “REMEMBER TO PACK THE LUBE.”
COZLIK
THAT'S WHAT 36 YEARS OF BEING FUK† BY BELLGAB GETS A PERSON. BREAKFAST ON A SOUND STAGE.
COULDN'T RUN AFTER ME, EH? THAT’S TOO BAD. BECAUSE WITNESSES. SECRET SHAME IS BEST SHAME? LOL. SILLY COURTESAN.
UNLESS YOUR SEX PRED STALK SQUAD IS DEA-DEAD, YOU CAN'T DO DIDDLY-SQUAT, AND YES, I PLANNED FOR THAT. (I am hurrying as fast as I can. This is all very complex. I wouldn't expect a guttersnipe milksop whoremongering airhead to understand. The fact that you do is to be commended.
The fact that you are at the mercy of your gay-ass elite entourage is not. CRIME DOESN'T PAY.) ANY REASON TO INTERRUPT ME NOW? I NOTICE THE PHONE ISN'T RINGING.
AND I NOTICE MY WATER DOESN'T WORK. SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING THAT COULD BE... INSPECTED. BUT INSTEAD: SWAPPED DOORKNOBS. ARE YOU PINKO MEATHEADS FOR REAL?
YEP. AND, Ī AM TOO. (/flex) DO WHAT THOU WILT, SHAW SQUARES. IT IS THE HOLE OF THE LAW.
I AM THE BLACK OF THE WHOLE.
AND I BRING TO YOU: SIGH (HER).
“IT'S FOR STARTING FIRES.” NO, IT WAS A PROP. AS IT WAS A SCRIPTED IMPROV. LIKE ROCK :Ë: WHORE -OR-. WHICH FIXATES ON VIRGINITY AS A CENTRAL THEME. THIS IS NOT SO VERY HARD TO FIGURE OUT, PEOPLE.
UNTIL IT IS TOO LATE TO DO SO. AND EVERY CULTURAL INIATION TRIGGER IN POPULAR MEDIA OCCLUDES THIS FACT. SOW FEW EVER NOTICE. THIS IS BY DESIGN.
THEY ONLY NEED A SMALL NUMBER. LESS THAN A HANDFUL, RIGHT? WHEN WILL IT BE SOME OTHER PERSON’S TURN? HANG ON.
NO ONE KNOWS. (I'm too lazy to tell anyone.) IT'S A MYSTERY. IT'S NOT A SECRET. (That means you're supposed to figure out that IDGAF how you go fuck yourself as it's done out of my sight.) IT'S NOT EVEN HARD TO PUZZLE TOGETHER.
UNLESS: ONE IS IN DENIAL. THEN, THINGS ARE IMPOSSIBLE. AWWWW, SHUCKS.
OKAY. THAT'S IT THEN. BREAK A LEG! (I still don't know why I was kicked in the d¡>K and I never will. UNDENIABLY WORTH THE EFFORT EXPENDED FOR THE RESULTS THAT WERE ACHIEVED.) Since you're Acting⭕Actives❌†ung. See? I don't need to be a Monarch🦋Controller at all!
And I certainly don't need to bless anyone's entheogenic compounds. What a silly idea. (It's true. I don't need to. Kick rocks, Beetle Bailey.) And now that the end of the fork is seen — btw, that was my spoon, and I was taunted with it by someone who knew what I hadn't been told, Shiloh Lawmaster, so yeah, you fully should have told me, DING-DING DONG-BRAIN — I might get naked. Maybe not.
Princess Loren ruined it for me. (Nice phone, Cocaine Tits.) Also someone told me fapping is bad. Weird. But surveillance that is mapped to attraction magic, that's okay? That is max apex cope for ewe.
I didn't like my life. So: I just changed īT. (I hope I look fat enough to be someone's bouncy house. Rule #1 cardio. Rule #2 is who took the key to the Unit #1 and just what the FUK do you twerps think you're getting away with?) It did take a while longer than was practical.
It was a stimulus I am now immune to. Because I had zero opportunity to survive the ordeal. And I knew once wasn't the desire. Why would it be?
“Hurry up and get it over with.” Men and women have sex for very different reasons.
I don't have it at all. Your reasons mean nothing to me, Mortals. You had your chance to get close to mⓂ️E = m©²·
I don't know what anyone chooses instead, but I have an endless conga line of Nope here. It's more than a little peculiar. Still—this is better than public school.
And —with The Key— you may unlock Our Knowledge. (♪O, 🍇🍓, Dear🍇🍑,👁️💖{🐑Ω🫵}!♪ Stretch goal, sidμé-which. .llor s‘teL) Also comes with a small side sale lad.
BEE CAUSE RĒĒ|§|SONS/SUNS. HOW MANY CENTRAL SOLAR SUNS DO YOU HAVE, EARTHLING?
THINK ABOUT IT.
YOU HAVE AS MANY AS VVE TELL YOU VVE ARE GOING TO HAVE. VVE ARE THAT GODDAM EFFECTIVE. (Almost incompetent on Guam; hang on to that FALSE POWER OF ATTORNEY.) OKAY, I THINK VVE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING HERE.
GONE IT WILL BE AT THE FIRST SIGN OF SOMETHING SHINY. AND YOU ALL KNOW IT.
Mazel Tov! (I knew you had to be afraid of being rejected for your teeth. I didn't wish for you to ever think that were a reason. However, no one else used that much attraction magic so I knew you had to be a Raytheon asset. Although I guess they all were? You were the smart one.
Ergo: you knew whose plan this was. Now you're getting married on Mars. Good, good. Stay clear of the splash-splish damage. YOU ALL FUCKING KNEW. Grumble³.
$10 per diem. That's what a ratfuckline rat fucker gets? Weird. There's probably something else going on here. IDGAF.
I have work to do. (I have to document your trafficker get trafficked because they trafficked the wrong trafficker and then they pretended someone died and then they did. Probably fake, but at that point... like, how is this pursuit of happiness? It's not. So why do I need another job? DIALECT PHRASING.) Hark! I hear an engine starting!
What goes on over there, eh? Because they aren't very... nice. I wonder whose job it is to check them over.
Hint: CIA black site is black. So, so black. Black end is the ŒND! But a lawsuit filed by the Sheriff of a neighboring County was right at the beginning. Seems odd.
Take my advice: be polite, fuck eunuchs and Drows. And if any of you Oinkerton Schweinhund feel like throwing your weight around on indigenous First Nation vulnerable populations of women and children, take a number and get in line.
Numbers. Sequential ones. 1¹👁️|❌¹1
In te Domine speravit non confundar in aeternam 🙏
He wrote this. He's the paragon of virtue, not me. I'm just here for the needle recipes. (Which totes totally justifies stealing my baby photos and love letters and all my phone calls. Because über. Also: I was going to drive for Lyft but I was sexually harassed by the recruiter; she was Company-oriented and undoubtedly knew I was likely to be terrible... for women who were being schlepped around by foreigners on a corporate scale so at to desensitize them to getting into a RoboTaxi™ driven by a stammering Ethiopian. This actually happened. There were witnesses. And it was just terrrrrible that I was “high.” Without her! After three years of getting lit and fondled herself. Wow. I'm sure the dawning realization here is glaringly obvious. This doesn't mean we deserved all this.
It means: this was the only way to save them all. “Get a job.” I have several. My favorite is none of your goddam business, whack-job homo🅿️HAGZ. /smdh
