Noting that Rubini's master save us all hail mary backup plan was to
Deliberately withhold, crucially treasured data. It certainly could not have seemed accidental to anyone, it was direct prevarication: "hey, bee tea dubs, by the weigh/way/way, way way, I have an objective. It's kinda particularly tricky. Have you encountered (Blank) (Blanky) (Blank)?" it wasn't even something on the forefront, the first time. It seemed natural, quite remarkably so. Dudemang asks for money (because, why, of course, he had way more of a shot at that, than he might have ever had on my (blank), fo sho), and I instantly, it just comes to mind, "Oh, you know, you might try (Blank) (Blanky) (Blank), I went to finishing school with her, she's smart, financing background, the most boring person imaginable unless pennies are on the line (I do not say this. Let me be clear. There was no mockery at that exact moment... on the surface -read), and you could, you know, look her up, right? She's smart. She's probably got bank." i'm not actually this pricktastical. No, really, before that even, someone says, "HEY GIMME SOME MONEY" and I'm instantly, "Have you met Ted?" Okay, not really.
Not even a blink. As if it's another name of another brick in some dumb wall someplace, probably a gay wall, if walls could be gay? Oh this Wall of One-Way Silence isn't gay at all. It's
totesderp. But not then. We're back and forth. We really are old friends, I can feel it easy, although typically, I am not friends at all with dopers who move instantly into full-faced mendacity with a side of menudo.
I've been listening intently to him talk at a nearby locus in space for a few days now. I have seen and heard the feigned novelty. I've heard it myself. The first tell falls flatter than William Tell's daughter at nine, right before some cad takes her out with a right cross and a sweet straddle-legged pindown in the orchard. You know I'm lying, right? You know I was humping that chest, my massive He-Man fists crushing her dainty wrists into my akimbo vices of righteous justice, and you goddam know it felt good. Not great, right? I mean it wasn't sexy frisky time while I was pinning her down with my knees gently nudging up beneath the bosom, I can feel the diaphragm heaving right under the square of my sadly neglected gusset, I literally can't remember how long it's been since I could skip past the sound of cover story pages rattling on, and you know I knew it was good. And it was good. It was a long time before right then, though. I mean it was nothing sexy at all, but there's still a bit of a twitch. Not because I'm dominating her, because I am, she was about to rip her fucking eyelids out, which does happen, but not then, I could only think of a way to distract her, because I have no idea when this Yellow Submarine is going to slip back into neutral. And by the time she's eyes up and ass down with me riding the whole hog, the situation is BEYOND COMICAL. "You're breaking my bones!" I'm holding her wrists in the circlet of one thumb and forefinger. It's a bit of a struggle, but by now, she has drained her physcial reserves with the incessant, droning klaxons of desperately driven dopamine squeals. "Eeeee! Eeeee!" the sound is kind of trailing off into the distance. She's not winding down, but she''s draining out at the knees from the lack of return energy, as I go from panic tower defense to the realization that, she is not real happy about her complete inability to sell either the urgency or the danger when this event occurs.
I mean, it's not a fun time all the time, but at the moment when I realize, "This isn't real, it's not acting, but she is not a functioning human being at this point, consciousness has fled for the future, and that's just... how it is." I don't think less of her, or think it's a joke, but, come on, that the notion that maybe, just maybe, after five years of off and on frontin' like we are important to each other... it seems outrageous to me that there could be any notion of a doubt why I'm still loving most every minute, this ain't hell, it ain't even all that bad, and it's not that she is worth it, it's that I do, actually, love her. She's gotten smarter and she's also gotten a lot more goddam stupid, but it's easy for me to ID, isolate, and idolize the one slice of that myriad vision that I -actually- like to put up with. She's nice, she's done nice for me, and, goddam it, the rare odd right cross thrown out flat isn't really that big a deal. She's not angry when it's on fire, you dig? She's -terrified-.
"I think he's trying to kill me!" Oh for fuck's SAKE. Like this is the exact opposite. The truth is, I FUCKING KNOW for SURE, that the plan is I stay home, clean the mess, and she goes somewhere, and the story goes and ends like this: "You don't see her again, something happened. Fuck you, I'm not lying, fuck off, *click*" That has gone that way so many times.
Oh they were gonna ice her, for sure. It would have been easy to sneak in, it would have utterly annihilated my plans for a garden gazebo with hot tub, and it would have been far easier for Team FU if she was just, you know, gone out of a loose end. (She cannot actually die or be allowed to die, as she has treasures, but that's not crucial right now.) They would not have wanted her in a position where she wakes up, opens her eyes, and remembers that there's someone who doesn't just laugh at her mistakes, but in fact, enjoys cleaning them up with her. For her? Yeah, hey hey, fuck you Arthur Treacher, there's a limit.
I already know, as I am driving there, fuck this, I am going to jail, she is staying home, minor child is coming for visit in a couple days--I have just been there to prime the jets--and there's no fucking way that she is in "jail" (Club Med, duh) and I am "home" cleaning up for fucking EVER all this glass and pasta and shatters of what was once... well, just some decorative items, some special ones, one that she told me she blew herself alone, so that's gonna identify the corpse at the gravemarker, and the whole arrangement is totesetup. Which makes sense since I have totesfled the battlespace, gone around the sound at semi-random loops, running down my batteries, for the express purpose of making it difficult or impossible for my movements to be tracked, my itinerary to be projected, my Estimated Time Of A Rival Stone's Throw & Combo Blast Off Feather Duster... look, I've actually done this before, right? Not just with her, but this baby broadsword, look, I've learned some skills.
I already know how to ensure I am going to jail, as I simply have to start speaking a truthful narrative, and barring a stray guillotine, enough will be heard to ensure further examination. I have already thought this far ahead. There's no way she's gonna -wanna- go to jail, right? I don't give a shit what she thinks her Plan was, as it included putting up with this hideous negotiator who card nothing for birthday fun and arrangements, no, he's just crossing the bases to arrange for at least one, hopefully several, felony drug delivery * blah blah war rants.
I've been around UC "Let's make a deal, loser" types lots of times. They are unfailingly polite. Why not? They don't even need to close. All it takes is a certain pattern, identified in a certain environment, and he's got it: paper on you. You're booked, maybe not without some typin' and baitin', but he knows it, and if you're aware to be smart, you know it too. Even if it's not The Mang, there's a certain feeling. It's like a click, but more like an action slide. You feel it. You have entered the archives. You are in the camera eye. Photo, meet The Bomb.
Sometimes I do not care, other times I -do.- This is the latter. This man is not looking to aid. His primary purpose: get evidence, on me, doing something worth the jump. Felony possession is at least up to 10 FUCKING YEARS. A 120 minutes of months. And, this guy is pissed, I can taste it on his periods. He's surface friendly, but wow is he fucking fed up. Especially with me, and especially because he knows that I know that I have made it very hard for him to enjoy fucking my q-wife because she is becoming steadily more and more irate and explosively vicious towards everyone, because no one has figured out yet that someone hasn't yet told her: Oh, you got something else going on, you do not disclose this, and you act as though I should just simply know from Infrared Sonar and get the message: you fucked up, figure it out, or you'll have to stay with me and know someone else is doing what YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO, so TURN ME ON, GODDAMMIT!! (She actually says this once. Brain damage is sad times.)
I assume she has some kind of thing going on because she barks at me to go with somone I would not ordinairly, right? For some strang to bring back. I MAKE TWO TRIPS. ROUND TRIPS. First time I come back, I have nothing. Second time I come back, I have nothing. Is she disappointed? Light years past. She says nothing about any desire, has desired little to nothing else since she came back from Back Monkeysville, and honestly she didn't have to. She was filled with a burning hunger for The Blasted Lands for mooonths. It's appalling. I'm not even invited to do such things, she's on deck in motion always while I am sleeping, and yeah, those red flags, I seen them, and I've been preparing for World Portal for quite awhile. I am on task. She, on the other hand, is on The Real Thing. Her last week with me was fucking weird. She says little to nothing to me, I don't make any particularly large mention of the days as they tick down to Birthday Splitsville, she probably doesn't give a shit about my plans, if she even sees past her own, I myself am fascinated to see what she does on 19 (mysteriously quiet and non-interactive WITH ME), 20 (cranky-extra about, unknown, she barely acknowledges me with small talk), on 21 the water heater is fucked (she's out I-have-no-idea-where with she-never-really-liked-to-be-seen-with-me and I'm wandering around the kitchen, alone, I smell a funny thing, alone, I wonder, wtaf? I don't care, I'm alone, she apparently has a terrible series of birthdays for all her friends, and she is apparently shocked--shocked, I tell you--that I fucking mean it, all my words go into the darkness and return never to me alone ALWAYS, I assume that anyone aware of me is fearful of hazardous entanglement, I really only am still in the area and remaining cordial with her at all because I have nowhere else to go, she's a loathsome conversational partner, she spews hate and is unwilling to reveal the source of her fantastic disappointment in me, I therefore do nothing but putter about and fidget about, she sees me doing nothing with no one and she acts sad that I don't have friends to share with her, she is focused on the unknown, and I am literally beneath her notice, and I am, clearly, not really all about gift giving.
I was so saddened by her descent into sharp clock tower madness, it was impossible for me to effect given that she had, for months, never told me anything real, always a farcial story. Remembering the truth was work, she didn't want me to know anything anyway, and of course she doesn't want to tell me that she reads every word of my comms, emails, sms, you name it, it's obvious to me that she has read something I have written to an email address that doesn't even answer back, like I literally have ZERO response back in nearly two years, thanky I don't have to constantly re-check and re-assure, "no emails at all," because, fuck, once again, she's reading all my comms, and I know this because the day before the 19th, I send a message that indicates that my circumstances couldn't really be any more over if they turned over the top card and found a pink slip. I don't want this outcome, but I also, no way, can stay like this, I'm here less than two months, she's been spun around and burned her time to waste on stupid tasks that she was being snowed with by someone, just to waste her grind, she notices this somehow, and they have a falling out, hey great, it was nice of her to fall in and just dissolve my memories from hers, like... it has been a loooong time since she hasn't been a derelict. Obviously there's love, but love has a way of saying, "No, I didn't buy the gift you told me to buy for my friend that you obviously think you know better than me and are disappointed to find I am not secretly comm'ing with, because, well yeah, i'm bored too. No, I don't know anyone. No, I don't know who to ask. Sure, I guess, will you label me a junkie before I leave or when I come home to be condemned as out of control? I seriously don't know. I'm fucking numb. If I -had- another friend, and I don't, I would be embarrassed to show the sight of this Miss Calculator to anyone, although it would be assumed that she somehow would be pleased by company that isn't mine, and I used to know people who were frontin' warmth, stating intimate, actual attainment of authenticity. Yeah, i'd like to have some people come by too, how about some for your intervention?
It's actual that bad. It's so bad she's checking my mail hoping for someone who will buy her act and agree that I'm a slacker for not spending more on her. The saddest thing is that I would, and if I did, it would mean nothing. "'Bout time, loser, do you (blank) yourself while I wait too?" It's so amazingly sad.
Maybe we should look at that book I got her, together? Oh, it comes tomorrow, and secondly, we just don't do anything together. At all. For so long I am axed to think of the span of time. Even in same room, talking past each other, we've been rent asunder, and, it is noticeable. At least to me. I don't know how she reacts to anything except to be harsh on me. I can't follow a single idea that might start with, "hey, you wanna..?" without just instinctively slitting my wrists.
Actual Christmas Eve. 3 days is an obvious upgrade. I have no where else. I know no one. I've not been planning, but I see it, whatever comes next, this isn't worth my time. it's cringe. i'm ascared to take my pet my best friend is likely to be a brat, like this is no way to live. I am braced for endurance.
Yeah, so: not at all how I thought I would be repped. For one thing: I read books. For another: this is a medical emergency and I know it, let's see, am I Medic!!!? No. She is, or was, and at this point I wouldn't say "Begone!" to anyone. I oddly find myself and her in enlightenment on hoping someone would write, which I ponder as a muse for a bit and then pass it as, well, sure, both with good taste. I asked her ages ago, to be alert, and this is as she decides to go. BAM.
She's mad at me, because I am not attracting anyone, let alone, my friends, to my space, I barely remember how. I think attraction starts with attractive. It's not hard, I usually remember, and I am never remembered by her people by this point.
I have no reason to expect a reply, let alone a lookup. I am that sad, she's still that much of a friend, and a little wishing couldn't hurt. of course I am a slob. It's all me. I'm still not sure why I am going around? Well, to see the end, and I do, and when time runs out, it can go again. Whee! But I would never go here with her ever again. I've never argued over noodles! Sounds warfare plastic. We are in the space, I am already aching for head bullets, so it's just an instance of takeoverhell.
Yeah, all that, for a new dimension. I don't mind moving the house, it's much the same Earth, but I do mind doing anything at all, I am going througgh the motions, and if I had a friend I would make them a better one than reminding me: you're dying of mustard plasma, make the most of your life, try to avoid my friend's meltdown? Hi, I'm okay, I'm wishing I never pretended that they must not know each other already many moons ago... and as I think "I wish I had never met her" I feel such a hated sadness, because it's not true at all, this is actually pretty fun, I mean, she's pissed at me for scaring my own friends away from her, how dare I? (Ashamed to see you like this.) Or maybe something else negative. So many options. It can be done. Elbow grease? Well, check under my tears first.
I thought that a person could support themselves in ways that are not so basic. I think it might get better, I have an .mp3 and such, and I did love the voice? I don't know what love is at all. It's a end of a horror. The notion of saying that I am proud of myself to know this person, yeah, that's gone for like ever. Like, what the fuck man.
So it's a good thing I didn't base my entire plan for the 7^7 yearspan of my Sourcing Times on some ding-a-ling who, while admittedly, is forever exceptionally comely and lifestyle-enhancing... like, some unexpected unflowerments have shown remarkable presence.
For example, there is a great, unexplained, and to myself, utterly inexplicable and completely beyond my comprehension... grand and filthy, intense loathing. Pour moi. Oh, really. Now, literally no one else could have revealed this information.
I have come upon The Herd unawares. I am sneaking up upon the horses' back. Look, I get it. Creeper stereotype? Oh, sure, that's me, 176 IQ, Virgo, Level Zero, & basically Shielded against -most- forms of petty nonsense--and also! Death curses. "N shit.
Yes, yes. Let me help you. I'm a dose-addled lunatic. You are, in fact, supposed to be thinking this.
You are also supposed to be thinking, "Kuczi? [KUCZI]! WTAF. That's the coolest goddam name in the world. Why don't I see that everywhere? That is a much more interesting string of 5 letters than that other guy, you know the one, Doctor Everything is Gonna Be Alright? Yeah.
Fauci." I would welcome you to a place to burn an effigy, but, I simply must be going. The Plan, My Plan, is catching up.
And there was always an expectation that whichever besotted hosebag wound up catching flamey-wamey at this point -- it's not like I planned nor worried on "being single" at this point, my Beastlies -- would be just about ready to be... processed. Diced. Prepared. Hashed?
Perhaps, Ass-Blasted. Who knows? Bottom line: it's time for these two bird boosters to hit the circuit. (THIS WAS ALWAYS THE PLAN.)
I'm gonna say that again. Oh, So Sad? Something happened? Yeah, I fuckin' bet it just fucking did, lol, now, let me tell you, what did you think was gonna be my plan? OMGISEEHERAGAINAND MAGICK OMG MAGICK... *cough* come on, Team. That's not a plan. That is
simply what happens with
Taurus in Venus.
Just imagine it. An obsession. "omg I hope she is willing to share Tweets with me, I feel so close to somone on the Twatter..." Remember: these are (blanked)-off birds with a dong 'n' dose fixation. Sure, it's not ultra-bad (for one of them, maybe) but the other is presently wired for sound to the moon -- oh, she is over the moon alright, do you have any friends left to tell? lol, she's over the moon with me still... five years anniversary, she's squatting with DEA agents in my mom's house they think they're stealing, bank accounts frozen, IRS audits and prosecutorial letters in the mailbox, piling up, they kinda thought they would not be under house arrest? Well, they kinda fuckin' were for a bit. No joke. Stuck in a mailbox with nary a non-Fed dick to even be chomping on.
I am sure it must have been heaven for anyone who ever dreamed of being with the three of them... at all, for -perhaps- the first five minutes. I mean, yeah, sure. Great company. This time, this scene, they are -perhaps- not as jovial as they might otherwise be, as they're stuck in my mom's house because I sprang the error trap while a bunch of asshole narcs were thinking they had just gone to Civil Asset Forfeiture Heaven. Can you imagine the hubris? The house has my name on it and it's owned by my mommy's estate's lawyer, he's a goddamn monster, ex-Marines, yeah, you know I do look like a fucking idiot, don't I?
I don't know when he stopped thinking that about me, but he sure as shit doesn't think that of me -now.- Out of nowhere, to him, he discovers that I'm thrown in jail, on Christmas Eve (of course they are kryptoJews, edgy), she's there with her jailbird CI Sister, 1-3 Clandestine DEA/BATFM/ABCFU Dicks galore, they think they have it -made- they are literally partying up underneath a portrait of my mother on the wall illuminated by a flickering flame, as though she is looking down in the pits of Hell... and yeah, Christmas in country lockup. A -huge- fake scene. The conversation starts with pasta and broken glass. I am not even mad. She's got a program, and instantly on coming home, so as to totesdeny me any opportunity to tell the story that I had just learned... she's a Tasmanian Devil. On Christmas! What a
disaster! I am devastated everyone thinks. (I kinda am, this was necessary... why? Jesus, I was just gonna leave that week, because believe me, no finer witch than either, but when driven to the redline through wanton self-abuse, omfg Christ. Literally? Considering gay. Actual. I send a Twat to a good, good friend, and I fucking mean it: "Yeah, you're awesome. MAYBE. I'l consider it. Anything but the Wonder Twins of Double Brat Attack and Double-Up Confiscate. You know what? I bet they were awesome, back in the day.
They run into me and it's a fucking bowling alley jokulhaups. They can't figure it out. Why am I not... you know... slavering? Don't I yearn? I mean, well... yeah. Obviously.
Hi, I'm Michael Clifford Kuczi. You may remember me as Michael Jesus Clifford KUCZI-GOMEZ. I am legit on that name because Joe said it over the loudspeakers, at Hec Ed, drunk as a fuckin' lord, on a whim, I lean in and say, "Dude! Jesus Gomez! Do it!" He's fucking DRUNK. (I am starlight.) He actually does it. "MICHAEL HEY ZEUS CLIFF-- what?" There's a palpable rustle as the murmur actually goes in and does a shot-for-shot remake of Murmur. (Why not? Do it on sweaters.) Now, how many of you remember? I recall the hot sense of anticipation very clearly. I had never used that name before. No one knew jack or shit about me anyway other than my shitty P.R. nightmare hitjobs. NO ONE KNEW, even the "friends" who told me the joke... that was their's, on their trip, to New York, I've never gone, are you kidding me? I'm lucky to be invited to a bathroom with a bathtub that isn't coin-operated, and luckier still if the door is wide enough to open. I think.
I know it changes over time, and sweet Sunny Jim, it sure as fucked-off blazes did. I am amazed. I am arrived upon myself? How could this be? Oh, my dear God, thank you: a few of your idiot followers thought, at one time... I was gonna need a little boost. Oh, well, my then. Thank you. Um num num. This is very good. A little bit of an older code, Sirz'n'Mammz, but... oh, it checks out, alright. Look at it. Look at her. I blink a bunch. Like, I have a plan already based on no one left alive, all zombies... and I start looking around, and suddenly as I become driven to see what she turned into, I suddenly conclusively pinpoint and expose that she herself has been floating and following me around RIGHT NEXT TO ME FOR YEARS. Oh wow, I thought they were kinda boring, but actually no, the first post, I instantly thought, "Hey that reminds me of hey that's cute," and I just as instantly set it aside, because, of course, no one would stalk me on the Internet, certainly not her. If she ever thought of me, and she never did much really, so why would she start? She would just mail me a postcard or email me a list of things she thought I should be interested in so she felt better about even taking the time to chat at all... or, well, actually, after the last bit of falling out, she never really bothered to call again, if one call every 8 or 9 months to leave a tersely banal exhortation or a clearly tooted up cheery party-mood welcome... that never came to anything, ever. Of course. I mean, that just doesn't work. I thought it nice that at least an attempt to keep up an appearance was maintained. I will be honest. That shows actual depth of emotion... to routinely call, get no energy exchange nor recognition of any potential in joy... and I kina long ago, quite a while after graduation, noted that this gal, love her to death, but talk about your late bloomers. Good golly.
It's fucking 2022 and I literally only hear a verison --any version at all-- of why we "broke" up at all. Honestly? It was a fix. And defnitely, there were ups. However, I never had any talk with her about it that wasn't horsepuck. "This isn't working for me, is it alright if I just go away? No, not if you look like that, come on, pull yourself together, for God's sake, but obviously for mine. What's the problem? That guy over there has some pipes in his pants, obviously a bag too. Can you stop blowing my recovery by turning my landing struts into Lego noodles?"
Well, that's how I remember remembering it then. Now, I haven't thought deep on this subject in a long, long time. But it's always a totesgasser. When I fully got over that experience, that one we all had, those of us that did, like I wasn't quite as sad as I may have looked, but that whole fiasco was beyondstaged. There was a fuckin' blueprint. Don't even think otherwise. Hell--I was there.
But, not for the blueprints. No, for the Apex Predator Climax. I don't know who might have been so droll as to imagine me and another certain person coming into each other in a closet, but obviously I did, the instant I recognized that flag being unfurled.... "oh, yeah? oh, that's so organic." Like, in an instant, I see the whole thing. Am I mad? Oh, no. These retards have -no idea- what they're unfurling on that pole. Am I gonna? Well, look, in that instant, I think to myself, "Wow, I bet he thinks anyone deserves this, but... oh really her? I can't wait to get eye contact on that one," because, you know, obviously, if a reaction expected from there, is like a tackle and a Kingpinning without a negotiation, I think, "how could I even hesitate?" I mean yeah, sure. Unless she just laid there like a telepathic tape recorder on loop blasting, "Rape Me, My Mind Commands (Pretend I'm Alive And Looking Peaceful Mouthing No)", in which case, well, I'll have to apply for another 3-day trip permit.
It was -not- that bad. There was no "It." I remember certain gated events happening. There was the time when I noticed that there was a MONSTROUS edifice coming to light... I saw it in the Neurosphere. (I'm not a mutant, you can spank it, sure.) I was busy noticing that either someone thought being a sudden, blank hearted too loose to trek past in order to do... what? Oh, you're going there? Huh. Okay, thanks for saying good bye after ticking off the boxes on the Acquisition List. (Totestransactional. Actually flattered! Oh, except, I wasn't grateful enough to be allowed to make my own chance to pretend that -any- of this was even -remotely- organic. I suppose a routinely applied look of thinly veiled disdain was not the stuff of fond memories to build upon. Yeah? Never mind, you just went on a trip tour again. My! How you have such energy! Oh, your little gang. I saw them instantly, and saw them damn near every day, bobbin' and weavin' and sure, that looked like fun. How you do that? Oh, right, you don't have a covert thug squad setting up and pulling bullshit shenagins while I'm a bit distracted from noticing that, all of a sudden, oh, I've let -you- down. Oh, well, that is quite the surprise indeed.
I bet it was a surprise to her as well when she one day, long later, was informed that I didn't know -anything- about what she thought happened, but in point of fact, I couldn't figure out how to forgive myself if I found myself actually telling the truth to anyone, and it was awkward that anyone of any concern didn't really need to mention that they were at all observant, and any who thought to talk to me about it, well, let's just say, I chose "numb" over "John Stossel Investigative Reporting Here, yeah, that was pretty much open and shut, next? oh, remember to always leave them laughing... it's too bad we can't be friends since you're so sad and and asshole. Hahah! Get it?" Oh, sure. Flounce off. Flounce back. Frown deepens slightly. That guy, he was helpful... Jesus, he's helped into a coma. Why doesn't someone smoke speed with him? Maybe he doesn't even know what it is or does and I don't either but I'm not gonna talk about it with him unless he brings it up, and then, uh... well, he hasn't, so whatever, I'm good. Anyway, I know he knows what it is because I saw him reading that book that one time that had that word on page 69, oh he probably doesn't know that either, giggle. Ah, I'm so amusing to myself and those that I select based on my basket of criteria. Anyway, what? Oh, dammit, thinking all that and staring at him with no remorse or pity isn't fucking working on this broke dick juicemaster. or whatever, anyway, he used to smile, at least. Like, what did he think was gonna happen? He pissed me off, why can't he tell? I patted his head and waved and split, he should know what that means by now."
Actual verbatim yearbook quote. Except, with actual feeling when I typed it. Now, was it that bad at all, in anyway? Why, yes, yes it was, and here's why: supplementary information Yon Ewe People do -not- have. (No one has asked.) I imagine everyone has their own thoughts and memories. For example, one person, I never said a word, but when I learned that certain announcements were being made--oh, right, I forgot to bring a publicist to a dance experience I never thought about before I was told by Squad Cooper, "this is how things are done," I dutifully did as I thought I was expected to, although, I didn't know, I was expected to be high. Or at least happy. Or at least... not in a constant state of unease and discomfort. I am sure I was checked on the surface for performance compliance, but honestly, after a bit... there was no way I could understand what was going on, because in addition to behind the scene hooligans, in front of the scene before me was the dancing specter of performance-enhancing spell component use, and, of course I knew all about that then, right?
Nope. Wow, that might have helped somehow. An Adderall prescription would not. Hell no. That stuff is jank wank shit. Take it from me. Because I one day suddenly recognized the pattern... Oh, is that why they all hung out, and thought as one unit, and had A Plan they probably got from an old golfer up by the Nike site. Was I there? Oh, -shit- no. He's -boring.- He'll toteswatch my totesgazing at his... haha, "his," get it? Yeah, that girl he used to stare at, well he stares different now, right? Oh, well, yeah.
"What exactly do you think I'm looking at here?" "Oh, I'm too embarassed to say that I can only imagine you're staring at my flesh thorugh my clothes because you're an asshole and obviously will not throw me down right here like I am in denial of having any interest in, because, like, I'm 14! Or 15? Or whatever my model is now, anyway, OMG I WISH I COULD but these things have to be corrdinated, and he's not gonna help, all he does and sit there and almost, but not quite, drool on me." I did, in fact, wonder if it were at all creepy to be so enamored, and I determined after a few long timeless 4th period most-boring-classes ever, that since I did, in fact, feel actual love for this sack of sadly unappreciated flesh, I mean I liked her books as much as her boots and boobs, couldn't even see those, right? I mean that would be obvious, she was obviously somewhat shy--well, terrorized somemone might tell that she liked being liked by me, I don't know what she thought would happen if she -approved-, but golly, I figured she would wise up one day. I wasn't thinking about ripping her clothes off immediately, I was thinking about how that would feel if I never ever wanted to, but she asked me to... what would that be like at, say, 93 years old? Like her cask of fine wine she probably has picked out for my incineration.
It was -perhaps- doubtful then. It is, for my own part, now incontrovertible. Taurean Venusians do it timelessly, and it's still the same love at first perception of a... well, whatever that is, I see whores not at all, I couldn't even do it the one time I tried, right? It was awkward that she kept doing things to stop herself from forming a loving bond with me, and I didn't get it, I didn't even want to, really, my father told me he would buy me a whore, and I'm all, "oh, great, yeah, well, whatever," and I wonder, did my father pay for the babymaker 5-second drop that I found myself in, before what's-her-face-hey-what-are-you-looking-at-how-dare-you-creep-in-public, or did someone else who knew him? No, I am pretty sure it was set up by the Thug Squad who arranged things so there would be a superlative reason, in case it were necessary to #Officially explain, why that didn't work out? Well, no one really asked me, which has been a blessing, because I know exactly why "that" didn't "work out," and that had nothing to do with much of anything important, really, in that years later, I wondered, "oh, is that what actually made me unacceptable? I sure fucking hope so," because it was never discussed. EVER. You dig? "This isn't working." "Well, why not?" "It won't work to explain." Like seriously no shit. I didn't notice it at the time, because, I was mortified.
So, clearly, dismantling of whatever had been planned... quick, sly, it's gone. See you tomorrow! Don't be such a downer. What's wrong with you? Well, let me think. I have no idea what just happened why, but it's gone and already faded out, right, and she's... oh, right, that was the plan. Except she seems puzzled that I have had an emotional reaction.
Yeah, that wasn't Adderall. Does it matter? I'm not attempting to out anyone here, but at the time, I was unaware of certain effects, certain hormones, and certain... ENCUMBERMENTS... and though I felt something gone away, it wasn't mentioned verbally, and since we were each lost in thought about differnent ENCHANTMENT FIELDS, well, somehow someone forgot to notice a key difference.
I didn't know jack or shit about what was -really- going on, until many, many years later. Oh, that's interesting, hey, you, uh... oh, yeah, right, we don't have any kind of personal connection anymore, given that, I still don't know what happened to make one go from "Looks like real" to "Hi I am a clone I have changed planes. (I saw that Real Girl again once. There's a frequency, case the joint. Oh, by the way that's legal now, are you still a nightmarish goody2 square? So class on iMeth, or whatever, no sharing, okay sure. Oooh, illegal, right. Can't risk that with me. Oh, you don't want to try weed? Not with me? Don't even wanna talk about it? Oh, okay. Hrrm. Apparently there is a concern about -rumor- with me. Well, letting me figure that all out by myself was a fantastic way to keep a low profile.
Oh, and when a guy who loses weight while walking hours around the neighborhood starts smoking cigarettes, a perhaps considerate thing to do might be to consider the effect when there is no longer any need to do... anything, and hey, by the way? Cigarettes do suck. That's right. No, that's okay, if you aren't in to me, you aren't into me, and why were you into me in the first place? Oh yeah, bingo.
Apparently it was not appreciated how I was admiring this gal in class. Oh, really? Well, you may not like it, but doe-eyed sap is what actually true, unconditionally expressed, genuine fondness actually represents as. Oh, my Lord. You will hardly believe what is to come. And I already knew I was gonna be "in love" with her forever... as I still am with a few -select- memories, because it's just first sight and it's forever, every time.
it's happened lots and I can read it real well now. In the beginning, I'm like, "is this boorish asshole really going to be someone I can tolerate the thought of if they keep acting like a gaze-addled sociopath?" oh and fuck yeah forever, I knew that then, and lately, I can testify, wow, she sure is sharp and on tacks while watching me 24/7 on an EyePad to make sure I'm not dodging any taxes. Those are super important, and if he isn't taking it seriously, well, I'm gonna glare at him until he figures out how to fill out a goddam check, what the fuck, is he retarded? He doesn't even have a checkbook. This fucking guy. No wonder he never went anywhere near me besides relentlessly consuming his own essence, never once -offered-, I mean I don't know where to do anything either, but he didn't even look like he was interested, fuck, what a waste of those seven months! I thought this guy was, like, long-term-worth it. I'm so fucking bored, I wish I could just give him verbal consent to hand me a glass of water and an IV to straw through, but, well, I'm shy, motherfucking broken hearted rapist, FUCK ME (I didn't say that, I have the hiccups) NO WHERE NEAR A MICROPHONE AND CAMERA I AM TERRIBLY SHY about being wanted for, Dude, trust me, people want to kill me (Yeah. Meet their weapon of choice, because believe it, Small F. Frying Later, U R TOTTY TOTAL TOASTMASTER SPYMATEMASTER SARA FUCK ME WITH HERPES I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT I ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU STUNNING and obviously your daughter is lovely too but she's a royal fucking cunt, seriously, I do, in fact, perfer you, and you know what?
Bitchfruit was really not that nice to her orchards given that if she was so disappointed with me, couldn't she have, you know... not spread the most horseypie news everywhere? About me? That isn't even true? That you're posting anonymously? On behalf of your husband? Jesus, when did your healing journey start, eh? Oh, that's amazing, what an amazing time to meet each other.
Yeah, I wish I could say that, lol. I know, right? This adorable doll, I'm sure she does a few poses, all of them smarmy, superior, and filled with an interior inner grimace of "I don't know how long I can pull this off but goddam it at least I like me alone, I can't possibly succumb as long as I never believe anyone loves me so much that nothing else matters."
The best part of my life is absolutely no scripting, I don't have to give a single tiny, once in a lifetime fuck about anything unless it comes with a stripper pole, and by that I mean, look, I'm not all that proud, but I overwrote most of my adolescent sexy memories with your face sneering at me and my shock and horror to discover that without oxygen, I couldn't keep up with that selfish twat who was on shitloads of speed, all the time, and didn't share with me, because, oh noes, someone might add some to some LSD and, holy shit, that's a wipeout. They will take your car, they will take you at your knees, and a few spiders will land on your hair itself, but, in truth... it's not that big a deal.
You are merely scared, because you shared a number of primary imprinting experiences with me: I, Master of Starmasters, That's an asterisk, that's a twat, hey, of course you love twat, just not with me, you only like penis with me, oh, wait, I've got it!!!
Nothing at all impresses you about me on an intimate level, beyond the fact that there's a life insurance policy, a parking lot, a parking garage, a 50ft tall Free Parking sign like the one in Monopoly, yeah? I'm happy to only imagine planting that flag, ever, because, the wolrd is still young. I'm not even 50 yet. Aren't you fifty? You sure act fucking mature, though, a'ight? I mean, we are getting old. Or at least you are.
I am going to get some fresh trim on several axes, and I will -not- be seeking your attention for it. Get it? Got it? We're friends. I am perfectly okay with choosing this, although, perhaps you could check in with Heidi Rutledge? She must be on your team, you know? I always respected her. I would fuck her anytime she chose, any place you could reach, because obviously your ego must be floating you up against the clouds, right? I mean, I am not kidding... and, more importantly, I am -also- more or less aquiescent to the notion that, oh, it's the fapors, fapzors, oh, you kad, oh, you brute, oh, yeah I know her, of course she would... would she like? Well I mean I would be only interested in first seed, so you go back in time, right?
Tammy? Tamara? WAKE THE FUCK UP. YOU'RE DREAMING. YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER GIRLFRIEND, YOU WORTHLESS NEEDLE JUNKY. KEYCODEPHRASE ACCEPTED. BTW BITCH, I KNOW YOU LOVE THAT ONE SO BELIEVE MY ITCH, IT IS NOT AS THOUGH I EVER THOUGHT THAT WITH YOU.
YOU AIN'T MY BITCH, YOU AIN'T NEVER WILL BE, BUT MAYBE YOU WOULDACOULDA? OWULD HAVE NEEDED OXYGEN. OR SHARE YOUR FUCKING DRUGS, LIKE EVER. RIGHT. THE LAW. YOU NEVER DID WITH ANYONE. OKAY, SURE, WELL, I NEVER SHARED MY HEART WITH ANYONE UNTIL I WAS DONE WITH IT FOR YOU, AND, FRANKLY, I LOVE WHAT HAPPENED WITH MY SEMEN, YOUR LIFE, AND AT THIS POINT, DOESN'T SANDRA BABY DOLLHOUSE MOM FROM FUCKINGASGARD, DOESN'T SHE DESERVE ME MORE THAN YOU?
WELL, I INTENTIONALLY BURNED HER NUMBER AND HER ACCESS TO ME SO AS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE PURITY OF OUR BOND. OH, YEAH, SHE GAVE ME FUCKING HER PEES AND HER PSI AND HER PISS IN HER MIND'S EYE, SURE, HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT? IT IS NOT THAT BIG A DEAL TO ME.
IT IS TO HER, THOUGH. YOU THINK SHE'S HERE? PROBABLY NOT. I WANTED HER AGAIN INSTANTLY.
AND, ONCE AGAIN, THAT WAS SACKED FOR YOUR SAKE AND YOUR SAKE ALONE, AND OF COURSE YOU DON'T APPRECIATE THIS GIFT, DO YOU? IT IS ALRIGHT.
YEAH, THIS IS ONE HELL OF A TOPSY TURNOVER. I DIDN'T SEE THIS COMING. NO, I NEVER EVER TALKED TO KATHY OR CATHY OR I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT ABOUT ANYTHING, OF COURSE I WOULD. OH, SHE WAS PERHAPS PLAIN BUT SHE DID THAT OUT OF RESPECT AND I COULD HAVE TURNED HER INTO THE FOREMOST WHORE OF WHORES... BUT I DOUBT SHE NEEDED A HAND AFTER THAT DEBACLE.
OH, DID THAT GET OUT OF HAND. HRRM. FANCY THAT. PERHAPS YOU BOUGHT AND SOLD A PARTY SEED STARTER WITHOUT EXPLICIT PERMISSION. OH THAT REMINDS ME, I WAS GIVEN QUITE THE INTERVIEW OVER THE PHONE ONE NIGHT/MORNING AND I DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING EXCEPT THAT HE COMMANDED ANSWERS FROM ME, I GAVE THEM OVER HAPPILY, BECAUSE I KNEW I WAS GETTING FUCKED, ONE WAY OR THE OTHER... AND I KNEW I WOULD LOVE YOU FOREVER, AND I WAS GODDAM RIGHT. I KNOW RITE. U R PRO, RITE? YEAH, YOUR SISTER THE SPOOK CAN SUCK ME, AND SO CAN YOU, i GUESS? OKAY, WELL NO ASSUMPTIONS, ANYWAY, BOTTOM LINE, I DID PRESERVE YOUR OPTIONS AS A POTENTIAL COURTESY, AND I REALLY NEVER EXPECTED MUCH WOULD COME OUT OF THIS AT ALL.
EVERY FUCKING TIME, I THINK OF BK, NO, IT'S THE OTHER ONE, ACTUALLY SINCE YOU ASKED I'M PRETENDING YOUR THINKING OF MY BAG AND PIPES AND NO OF COURSE NOT. AT THIS POINT? CAN YOU KILL THEM BOTH AFTER THEY DIG TWO MORE GRAVES? BECAUSE I AM GOING TO RIP ONE OF THOSE THREE PUSSIES LAL THE FUCK DOWN AND OVER... IF ANYONE IS, YOU KNOW, INTERESTED.
I AM NOT IN AN EXPECTATIVE STATE BUT SOME MISERABLY JEALOUS BASTARD, RECENTLY DIVORCED, YEAH SHE RAN OUT AND SCORED, HUH? LOL YEAH, GIMME THAT TECK. I WILL SEDUCE THAT FUCKING RAPE RIGHT OFF HER REPORT. YEAH, SEE? SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING WORD MEANS THERE. SURE I COULD. IT'S NOT NECESSARY.
AT THIS POINT, I WOULD PREFER. I SAID I WOULD FUCKING TALK... I FUCKING TALKED.
HEY, AS. MAYBE YOU CAN UNBLOCK ME NOW? TELL YOU WHAT, GO ON AND CHECK, AND DO WHAT YOU LIKE, AS YOU LIKE, FOR EXAMPLE: I WAS HAPPY TO CONTEMPLATE THIS EVENT, TO SEE WHAT PEOPLE WOULD SAY WHEN THE HATCH OPENED WIDE AT LAST.
HAHA. HOHO. YEAH, THAT G-Y SEEMED REALLY JELLY AS WELL. LIKE, WHAT, DOES SHE HAVE MY FACE TATTOOED ON HER WALLET? OH, HER VALET? OH, IT'S JUST THAT SHE'S BEYONDDENIALING? LOOKS, I AM SORRY, LIKE I AM GOING TO HAVE TO JUST TUNE OUT MY BLANK MENTAL GAZE AND TRY TO IMAGINE WHAT THE WORDS, "PLEASE, PLEASE RAPE ME, I BEG YOU" SOUNDSLIKE... OH YEAH I REMEMEMBER, THE LAST TIME BEFORE THEY TOOK MY GF ON HER WAY OUT OF MY LIFE, WHAT CAME BACK LOOKED LIKE A RAPE WOULD HAVE BEEN AN IMPROVEMENT, BUT, I WOKE UP, SUPERERECT MODE, AND I WAS SO HAPPY TO HAVE HER AGAIN, AND I HOPED IT WOULD NEVER END, BUT YOU AND I COULD LAST... WELL, NOT MUCH LONGER PAST THIS PARAGRAPH, FRANKLY, BEACUSE YOU WERE PISSED, RIGHT?
(YOU WERE PISSED BECAUSE YOU WERE OUTMANEUVERED AND YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE TO SPOIL YOURSELF TO ME, OOH, WOW THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLE, HOLY SHIT I MIGHT KNOW YOUR ACTUAL ATTITUDE? LOOK, I HAVE SEEN YOU, AND YOU ARE EITHER PLAYING IT PAST MY HILT TO WRECKME, OR YOU KNOW AND I KNOW THAT IN REALITY, IT IS NOTHING LIKE THAT, AND ALL I HAVE TO DO IS SCARE OFF YOUR TEAM, AND... LOOK, I AM SORRY. HANG ON. MESSAGE COMING IN.
HELLO WE ARE FROM OUTER SPACE STOP YOU TALK TO MUCH AND YOU SOUND LIKE A RETARD WHO WANTS AN ARM AND AND AN APE STOP WAIT DO NOT TELL ME TO STOP WHAT STOP YOU FUCKING WITCH ABLEEN YOU FUCK WHY NO GODDAM BITCH WORD IS IT A SPELL? QUESITON MARK STOP OH MY GOD, THIS IS HELL.
"Thanks for the assist, HW. Hi, I'm Jackstar. I enjoy knowing you, having known you, and knowing real fucking fast that we were gonna have a lot more fucking fun together than any of these fucking losers will, because you and I, we aren't getting older--we actually are Travelling. I know, right? Yah, they jelly. Because, as you know, yes, I am in... The Club. Do not fucking gasp on me, *'Itch. How's that? Look, I don't get it. You seem like a fucking smart woman, and i know that, because I definitely wanna fuck her still, again, whatever, jesus, the fucking squealing, does it ever stop? Doubtlessly only it would increase, but Heather, Un-Owned-Baby, I do not know what they did to you, but I obviously saved your redemption for last, doubted you would need it but I fucking knew you were waitng out for me.
Yeah, I knew it would not go there, because, well, reasons, undisclosable, and it's actually really sad. Of course we love each other, and if you knew how fucking stupid she feels right now--like, beyond dumb, come toutle some random strangers tuttle, Jesus, you use everyone, huh? I love your tears. I do. It means you're finally fucking getting moist when I'm around, like, AT ALL. Hey, do you and Pipestar blow it into each others mouths, or cunts, or what? I am just curious, yeah, okay, it's not my business, you're right, IT IS MY PLEASURE, lol, yeah, right? See? This is fun! I do not feel a secret inner sadness and longing pain, never to be filled in, my unabashedly totesunsecret love, will now, never slip that shaft in... or, maybe?
Yeh, don't stay tuned. Obviously I have hoped for ALL THE DAWN to be BROUGHT THE FUCK IN AND SHOT DOWN. I know, right? i mean, wow, what a twisted whore's victory lap. Do not care, i love all my friends so goddam much, and of course, i was horrifed.
"btw, Jesus, Tammer, can you lose the manners and just pick up a stammer? It might do you fuckin' good." See? I still love you, just the same, and it's real, and you know what? I DO. May I now rape some other husband's bride? No, not Keith's (hi keith!) I don't want to get (PROT)'s fecal matter on my microphone, haha, and, let me tell you: MICHAEL FIVE IS FUCKING PETER FRAMPTON AS THEY BOTH CAME ALIVE."
Yeah, I know, right? Let me put it this way: anyone who thinks the real me has even been seen is just in fucking statick cling shock. Utterly sheltered imbreciles, the both of them. yeah, she thinks it, I mention it, she's surprised, helllo? She is your wife. Or was. Will be? We all went Plasma Wife Swap. (brig is incensed) I think Seraphim will be happy to tap you, but, my memories are winding down. It's winding down, folks.
But, not the tarorape. It's like a little bean, right? It's not too big. At some point: RAPE. Oh, by the way, I became the most practiced *rapeshove* comedian of all time, and then made some recordings and then put them on an apple watch around, you guesed it, yeah that girl I delib shot the fuck up right in front of. I knew she would blab. I knew she was pissed. I thought about telling her the truth and then completely dominating her will while "her sister's children" yeah whatever, Five - Oh) were in the corner of the room, playing with my not really fancy but one day worth a bunch more Star Wars toys -- couldn't possibly give even ever any less of a shit right now, though, right? Oh yeah, I'd trade them all for dope and a needle, I can't sta... well, actually kidding. I have shitloads of dope and needles, yep, right here. I choose discipline and to eschew needle use until this snooty stuck up bitch (I SAID IT) I totally still know, and still sleep in here bed, until she does i dont know what, or, if you come over here right now and line it up Jenny.
(Yes. This is a new, valid girl. It's like a chorus girl line up out the back of Secretariat's ass up in this LICH. (People who can't bear certain words have certain indicators, and the girl who wants to tell me to rape her again, like, every day? It's cute. She thinks it's "wrong" to say the actual word, "fuck." I know. Couldn't you just die? Well, let me rape you first. And that too, she doesn't know what rape is, oh, wait, yeah she does now, I guess. She had that haunted look. anyway, i don't think she liked getting raped the fuck out + black and blue beating, actual nausea, she sent me the pictures, I was like, why? weeks later, I put it together, she told the wrong guy at the wrong time to "rape her," right? probably didn't have a safe word. Turns out, I am the only safe time she ever had, the only good one was the first, I don't know which of us seduced each other first, right? I could barely put on the condom right--
(Yeah. Jackstar raped an innocent young girl, NINETEEN, he couldn't help himself, holy shit, that was love. And, she fucking wanted it, so he just moved on in, and he really does remember saying, "do you want to do this?" and he distinctly heard a "yes," which was beynod totatally at all necssary, right? Well, fuck it, he can remember, I know I loved her, and she was certainly confused, but sure, she loves that guy. He sure is a fucking pain in the neck with his bullshit, but one of these days, our dream will come true, and wow, he sure really was ready for that lady frined of his, huh?
"If he gets hard again, will he have to put on another condom?" said this girl fucking never ever EVER. Like, she's conflicted for decades, right? Turns out, it was the seduction she liked, and, who wouldn't? Just ask around. And if you ask her, it was seduciton and we had sex and i bet you my dollars nutting in that never dough whore's hole, she thinks "fuck" and "rape" and "bitch i am your bitch BAND CAMP BITCH FUCKER" are "bad words," for fucking sure. So she won't wanna say, "You really raped me!!!" at the fucking top of her voice, on the fucking phone, like, after, "Hello?" YOU FUCKING RAPED MY DOSSIER, YOU FAT FUCKING WHORE, AND YOU WILL FUCKING PAY.
And, scene, but for a certain person, that is where it begins. Look, I seduced that one, and I was sensitive to consent issues. I was scared because I had no power to resist her, I wanted to fuck and she made me feel like the first person i wanted to ever do it with until I found out that her version of foreplay involved blindfolding, binding contracts, and blocking the nostrils while shoving a ballgag down the throat... which might be okay, but I am gonna negotiate, because it is like this:
I lost my fucking virginity, so I could arrange to have myself consentually, satutorily raped. now, i am not sure why I did this. However, it did turn out to be the hottest fucking goddam thing, EVER. okay, for one thing, oh yeah, I did totally fucking rape that broad. "Do you want to do this?" Uhm, hello? Oh yeah, she wants to, but did she even know where she was at that point? Uh... your house, you drove around, you bought a book, you realized you were just trying to cover for WANTING TO FUCK HER ALL DAY ALL NIGHT FOREVER RIGHT NOW--you know, you felt that way before, except, this one actually means it, she claims sex before but it was some kind of weird thing, and she doesn't want to talk about it, right? Yeah, I fucking bet. I bet you can figure out a way to hear it grunting out of her while you slam her up against her parents' bedroom, right? See? You know all this. It's here, because that's what she actually wanted, and she figured it out when you fucking squealed, and at first, she thought that was AWESOME. and now, SHE THINKS IT IS WAY MORE AWESOME.
and you both fucking know it was rape, so don't lie to me/her, right? You already knew the answer, you asked a question, you heard a yes, i remember... sort of wondering? Yeah,I am sort of wondering too. How long to get there, kill her parents, do you even need to dispose of the bodies? No, you don't, you are not doing this, not in reality, but you do it in the initial master baiting, and can you imagine? Like, she is actually disgusted by the sound of the word "fuck." So obviously, say it in front of her mother, decapitate her father, and soul kiss the skull while poking and proding that fucking fat whale up those seriously cursed stairs, like, can you believe that house? It's like a place made for you to rape her in. HER PARENTS ARE DESPERATE. You're the only man who comes around who even treats her like a human. All she knows is getting dogged rare and raw and exploited, and that one cool time when you were really polite, and, holy shit, she didn't even know it could be that swift. "Uh, yes." RAPE RAPE SPEW. Omfg, I was already looking forward to the next time and I was already feeling so fucking embarassed. You knew it was rape and you knew you loved it and, well, she did consent... look, heavy shit for a nine teen to be carrying, right? Nonchalant whistling.
yeah, you did. It was also WRONG. What you both did was WRONG. Obviously, you should have videorecorded it, and maybe some day, Frogblar will tiptoe out at night to peek? Jesus! I know, right? Does she wear a diaper and a bib, or just a fucking Hello Kitty sticker? "I'm so innocent! Point on my face where you want to *shove* your tongue against my romantically shaven mons pubis? please? oh wait, I asked, now it's not rape, I gave consent. Damn. Shit. Double damn, I just had a random, totally coincidental thought cross my pleasure zones, I'm a beyondslatternly megaslut, right? I mean, of course that was gonna happen, and I am proud of it, but obviously, I'll just fucking die if anyone actually realizes, like, puts it all together? That guy I made out with and found out i couldn't fuck completely over FOR LIFE WITHOUT PAROLE totally insulated himself? Yeah, that one, yeah of course he is back, omfg, I knew it owuld be like this, oky, I need my squad of tough thugs, what do I got? 2 fags and a fucked off clone bought on the cheap from the Andy Dick estate. Oh, I know who that is. I don't throw up in my mouth a little, I throw up a little speck on my boot, right? yeah, you said the floor, but I knew what you were imagining, and you were ashamed of how much you wanted to get in close, but, you know, shy.
i guess i could have told him that outl oud, right? maybe hearing words as a different energy SOMETIMES YOU BRAINY LICH'S SLUTTY TWSTY, yes, that's magick, and why yes, that is exactly six months prior.
Hi. I'm Jackstar. You have absolutely no idea of the cosmic power I wield when I am possessed by My Maker, and I don't think it's that whiny gimp who acts all superior when modprogging Heat Weathers. That is fucking jeff b, ain't it? Yeah, I know. I hope he's not related to that g-y who I wish would fucking ill himself again, right? Tonight. In two hours. While I watch someone get raped, real good. That fucking g-y, right? Such a dumbass, now she's gonna re-imprint on Jackstar, and then she'll be all, oh I should use needles with Jack, and then it will be, oh really? You did that with Jake and got fucking bugs in your fucking armpit, right? Yeah, Ether Troopers, and they fucking gave you infected dose whle you went WHO KNOWS, girls just wanna have fun without Jack around, because, uhm... he hates niggers! hahah, get it? yeah he doesn't EITHER, lol, BOSS SAYS, oh, it's because that girl called him a rapist, and it is fucking true, tho he denies it, well, he justifies it, he doesn't ever JUST rape, no, this creep is clever.
Jackstar is such a pervert, he deliberately remembers women who told him, "I liked being raped by you," and then totesmakes them toteswait to even fucking totesgetahug, because he knows the truth: no one will believe he didn't, so why not? it's not like she doesn't want it, right now. (She doesn't, or else she would kill her parents early, and she's not a murderer, she's a homocider, because she thinks you're really just fucking gay, oh she gets pissed, "goddam it why wouldn't he just fucking rape me one more goddam time why does he want to wait until they die, FUCK, God is it wrong for me to kill them?" (As you can imagine, this one is just about ripe. one time she rings me up, "OH MY GOD! MY MOTHER JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!" Heart in throat, she's obviously afraid it's obvious she fucking hopes so and that's not illegal but fuck it, if I hope even just a little, and then maybe she dies and then I can cal lhim, and I will be too scared to say, oh my god! i'm on the phone with him! now! this is nothing like rape, hey Jackstar, why don't you just kill this gal's parents?"
Well, for one thing, I like them. For another, I'd propofol them and they'd wake up Boxed Helena style, ball-gaged OF COURSE, and positioned perfectly to time the ten hour slamfest, and it fucking well would be. She wants to, she asked, on the phone, multiple times, she's on police records, "ON THE PHONE: "You really raped me!", oh yeah, her parents tried to freak out, they were all, OH MY GOD, HOW DARE DO THAT TO YOU (lucky bastard he sure pulled out that one) "Well, he wore a condom..." Wait, what? Look, you might not be retarded but those tits sure are if you think a rapist has time to put on a condom. So that's your report? "He asked me if I wanted to be fucked and I said yes and then he rpaed me." Is that what he did? (Oh yeah. Read between the lines. I remember the eyes widening in surprise, and you remember how long it was then? Well, so does she, and this time, it'll be longer, and she'll surprise again, so figure out a way to surprise her twice, you dig?
Like, say, for example, just showing up and saying, "Pardon me, Father, Mother, you know me, yeah? Yeha, that's cute, you're more afraid of me than I am of her calling me a rapist. Hehe. Boo!" Her father is like 3 ft tall and legit jumps when Jackstar says boo. Or his daughter starts daydreaming Or whatever, right? All of a suddden, it's that guy, the one who started it all, What first fist rape? He was there too! (Nope. She wanted rape and was just too shy to proclaim it and now that I think about it... that could have been SUPER. Why wans't it? Well, she thought you were "an exclusive item" because you told her that you loved her, Cancer, oh guess what, she remembers that most, what do you think? Yeah, I think she wouldn't understand that either, because NO ONE said I love you like you did, because, you Kuczi... you fucking raped her first, you fucking got away with it, and sure, yeah, no big deal, you both liked it and 'wanted" it, right?
okay, well, surething. At least you meant it, right? You hear me, Bright Boy? Yeah, I don't know who I am either. This is fucking weird. Can you just come fuck me for a little bit? Oh, you're a guy, and you have a dick, oh dummy, that makes you a gayle, no don't fuck me a little bit, just come cuddle. hehe. Yeah boys can't -really- do that, they don't really have a soul, and neither will she if you fucking shoot her up with IV meth, right? yeah, it's NOT worth it, and you fucking know it, so just don't IV, nd you're good, Right? Oh Jacky.
You know you will. (No, I know she will, and I'll rape the demon, then rape her, and then I will be you, and then... (Jesus, Jackstar, fine, unbeatable, fine, when do you want her? I don't want her, I want Lee & Liberace! and if humberdinck even had a dick, yeah, sure, bring him to croon it, because she didn't even know it went that far. And you did, yes you did. ("Base to command: Jackstar contained on grid" "It's trick, he is NEVER contained. Ice the dick." "Crushed... please?" Well, I guess the frozen water, but listen stop asking stop fucking stop PERMISSION, when will you fucking learn how I want to be raped?" Well, probably as soon as you actually fucking exist and the words are echoinng near a mike, you dig?
things are DIFFERENT now. Grapefruit Theta, the porkdoll that they fed back from... WHERE? yeah I don't remember either, and thank God, anyway, she wasn't theraped one, she fucking consented, and you bet your ass she looked haunted. She didn't wanna bring that up, right? She thought you couldn't have guessed. "I didn't check her for pin marks for a reason," and omg they will check her ASAP when she gets back, right? omg, they are TERRIFIED of you, Jack.
And they should be, because once you do that, there will never be any going back, not to Fruit, not to Totes, not even any hammertoes, no really, she would go back and get that little fucking snippy smartycunty, like, how could you not wanna?
