Why the fuck is Jackstar so Goddamn Crazy?

[Innerreach]

Tag it and bag it with the rest of the evidence that you're a fucking twerp, Son. My entire world gets slammed through a cheese grater like you helped plan for six goddam months while sniggering to yourself the whole time in plain sight, I -of course- rock this shit, hey, come take my cyanide tooth, right? It vibrates in ultra-violet light.

I spend six goddam weeks explaining legal precedent to you and you nod and smile and go back to swilling ethanol. How fucked up you are! Jesus fucking Christ this was the exact scenario I wished to avoid... because it makes you look stupid. That reflects badly on me. People are gonna think I've gone soft, or that I'm sweet on you, or something else ultra-faggy. Like I have enough problems.

p.s. I might have to start sucking penis sooner than anyone even began to imagine as I am already casting shade with my Irregular status, which is a damn sight more straight up than a lot of other Peoples' status. (Looking at you, Short Round, like I need to know the name of whatever supervisor is gonna be on the dock for the oversight on a couple matters... I think. Frankly I'd rather just let it all go but apparently there's another interstate matter--deep in the heart of Texas, and thank you for that, D.--that I have no idea of any relevance on... I mean, as you know, I don't know jack or shit. Oh yeah. Keep me in the dark. Is there a briar patch there? Hang on, I found me a Clapper on Ebay last week, I've been meaning to slap some ass and make my halo blink on and off like its for epilepsy.) It always surprises me when I get my downloads late... I guess I'm the only fucking one who can read around here on Monkey Rock, so I get mine last and it's like Moby Dick.

I do know that I'm still happy to make terms with (PROT), don't really need to, and DO.NOT.LIKE. the pressure being thrown in certain areas in certain ways. Not sure what to do about that since... uh, right, like, you all just collectively don't remember who I am? I'm a man of mystery, no one knows anything? Jesus fucking wept.

p.p.s.: someone get Decon some flowers. Satanists have really fragile egos, that's for fucking sure, and to be honest, they always will... but I don't really hate on those lads for being strained in relations with me, given that their souls are no longer their own and they have probably stayed up late at night in mortal terror of what I might do to their world... without even meaning to at all.

p.p.p.s.: Jesus tells me Decon is envious of MV for his privilege and is considering beef over it. I hope that there is no war.

p.^4s.: We fight what we must because We can imagine no greater height for Man to attain.

[Jackstar]

Jesus, weepin' out with his cock out. Don't you get it? You fucking asked for this. She's gonna be -enraged.- When it is discovered what has transpired--or, what is about to--she's gonna be livid. And then, when her center of balance is thus knocked askew/akimbo--The Judgment Strike. There's one now... my Jackstar@Google.Account... still continues to zombie along, as if to remind me that at least in The Land of The Dead, there is a still A King.

The King of Fallout, but what the fuck ever, monarch is monarch. Now anywho--do I use too many big words for you, or are you just so fuckin' salty that I saved your bacon for you time and time again in the wrong configuration? Because seriously, your totesconstant whining about me is getting to be the most tedious experience of my life.

Except maybe for Anita. Jesus! You know, all she would have had to have done is say, "hey dude, I'm being mind controlled in order to bust you, so, if you can figure out a way to get me blasted without getting your ass thrown in prison, maybe we can work something out." And, just like that, two fingers snaps and an eye of newt up the ass, and we would have been in business. So to speak. Not really business. Money counting, not my thing.

But being honest wasn't her thing really, either. Now, Metthew--dear Metthew--I'm gonna put it to you this way:


I WONDER WHAT EMERGENCY QLERGICAL POWERS I AM GONNA GAIN NEXT. Also, the girl with the Faith tattoo--I know, right?--is all pissy wissy achy cranky wah-wah. Is this your doing? Do you maybe have some kind of spellwork you're doing, in order to make my evening a totesdelight? I'm just wondering, because she's quite well-behaved, usually, and she looks a whole lot like one gal who tried to steal my house, and another girl who couldn't hold her biscuits together when certain music played... and it's like this, my mang. It really is.

How do you expect to be taken seriously? My research corpus is leagues ahead of your own. Why struggle for dominance? Join an alliance with me--a true alliance... a Texas Two-Alliance-Fer Kuczi, perhaps--and we shall rule our interdependent demesnes as separate, autonomous units... or, we can ride a tandem bicycle built for two on the way to your psych eval appointment, how does that sound?

I do not await the courtesy of your reply... but, I do relish the notion. Oh, and, by the way, you argue like a belt sander left on high speed while nylon pantyhose dangle daintily over the drive cam. Just think of the spinning. Aiieeeeee LASAGANA.

(Do not underestimate the things that will result as a consequence of any further trifling. As you are clearly a Monarch MK-Ultra coded assassin asset yourself (kewl), I expect that the pleasant fellow I chatted with, lo those many moons ago, is largely an artificial construct--an Illusion, if you will--and that your base level attitude is one where you're basically K-Dubb except with model airplane glue instead of pineapple for a butt plug, but that's okay, I do in fact like you both, not merely in spite of your insufferable cliquish/boorish idiosyncracies... but also because of them. Strong, fierce hugs, my Brother.


Now, in the meantime, if you could stop being such a whiney witch yap-yap-yap goat fuckin' hosebeast, that would be great. Like seriously, did you ever have fun? Try it sometime.

[Innerreach]

Now, in the meantime-

Cute post, and to think, it's actually comprehensible for once.

What are you batting these days? One in a thousand?

Too bad you're insane; we could have been great camping buddies.

[Innerreach]

I WONDER WHAT EMERGENCY QLERGICAL POWERS I AM GONNA GAIN NEXT.

Hyper Insanity Level Infinity. #HILI

My research corpus is leagues ahead of your own.

Clearly...

[Master Trollda]

Speak to me in person he needs to? Whatever for, I wonder? 🤔

[Master Trollda]

BTW, not The One am I, silly Punyling.

[Jackstar]

Speak to me in person he needs to? Whatever for, I wonder? 🤔

Busy. Working. Who're you? Doubt.

[Jackstar]

BTW, not The One am I, silly Punyling.

I never thought that you were, TheeeMCC. (Oh, and, by the way: that other guy is a fuckin' dick. Should probably learn some manners. May have been pozzed.) Yeah, that's not you -either,- Tone Loc.

[Jackstar]

Clearly...

I hadn't planned on shooting the shit with you, but, I'm dealing. It's not very complicated, you just sit down at a table in a restaurant, surreptitiously wave your phone at someone, like just above the edge of the table, you dig? And then they notice that you really are that fucking stupid handing them a bag under the table that gets intercepted by a time-travelling leprechaun with dimensionally refracted shielding (my favorite kind of leprechaun, except for the ones that smell like cheesecake when you boot them in the sack), and then you just sit there agape... while they go on and do, uh, whatever.

Some folks call it "dinner." Yeah, I know a place. Obviously. This is my rock. This is my island. And as G-d as my witness, I'm not going to speak for The Vessel, you creep-o, if my friend likes you I -may- allow her to come, or I -may not-. You drive a hard bargain, my snooty friend--but at least I'm not gonna make you a snotty fiend by forcing you to shake my hand after I spit in it to seal the deal. (Understood.)

Oh no. For you, crunchy boogers only. (Not at the restaurant. That's unsanitary. I don't even think it would be on the menu.) Bring your own spell components, I would suggest, because I can't be certain that I didn't just slam Liquid Plumbr. I'm a Sourceror, not a chemist.

And that's on record. And wear something slutty. That way we'll all match all scans on all three levels. Just comb your beard like a slut then, would that even be unusual? I don't think so.

[Jackstar]

Speak to me in person he needs to? Whatever for, I wonder? 🤔

Huh. Well, originally I was needing to hear that a conversation had been had. Now, I blankly stare at my phone and remember that I have to email reminders to dead people. Which is somewhat sad and awkward, but not nearly so much as it would be if it were you doing that.

Also: I don't really know the -precise- ID of the -particular- quantum signature I've been assigned, but it's not impossible that it is someone here, you, or someone here, her, I just know it's not me, and if it were her, she would have remembered where she put her body last night --or, last time-- when we were together. But, we weren't. At least I hope not, that would really leave a sour taste in my bitter cunt.

YOU HEARD ME. SO THERE. p.s.: I head someone is in Spirit Jail. Looks like a fun time for someone like him. Heh heh. j*eol

[Worthauger]

Cute post, and to think, it's actually comprehensible for once.

That's not a post. That's a girl. (You have heard of them, I am sure, and now: behold an exquisite example of its phenotype. It's one of the phenotypes that actual men actually like to actually fuck -and- then actually talk to again, for serious, which I am sure is exceptionally rare in your own personal experience. She is also actually more intelligent than I am--which must be damn near close to completely impossible in your experience, as even I am smart enough to probably not ever get close enough to you to even smell your beard. She probably has your red file on your phone, Chuckles. Her phone. On the cloud via any device anywhere everywhere whatever.) She does mumble a lot. (Shy because she can read this by looking through my optic nerve and strong enough to resist the temptation to implant a suicidal trigger in my psyche. But like a woman, pretends to believe she doesn't know how to do that.) So if she is even comprehensible at all in the course of a given day, I'm counting it lucky. (She's here to be, among other things, someone to clean up someone else's mess, as well as to make someone else jealous, which might be happening. I don't know. I also told her to make (PROT) jealous, but as I don't think there are actual feelings there, I don't know what that counts for other than being just plain rude.

Still, that's Ben all day--"Just Plain Rude." At least he comes by it honestly, like the rest of his Spiritual Wonder Boy Niggard Wealthard (BLANK-lee:FU_TOR) people. At least this time.... at least this time, there's a lock on the door, and at least: I'm not crying. (Company policy says I can cry after I divine.)

What are you batting these days? One in a thousand?

I'm not batting anything. I am one in 100 trillion and I don't give a shit about your opinion of my attractiveness, because, for one thing, you're a dude with a cock and a terrifically bad attitude ... can you even get it up without a shot? Doubt.

Second place is you're fired. I mean wait. FIRST THROUGH TEN PLACES ARE: pack your shit and get out of my governement and get back into my high life again. Yeah, you're *ralph* "undercover." Dude, fuck you. You couldn't be any more of an asshole if you tried. And, you do.

Too bad you're insane; we could have been great camping buddies.

You can't even handle a simple goddam cross-portal phone call. Go fuck yourself in whatever shower you like--you won't be able to confirm that either of us would be able to keep from exploding, even if you could see me, which you wouldn't, because every fucking time, it's always destroy the planet or destroy that donkey-punch worthy sister of yours, or, some dipshit blonde who came over after getting to rape a vampire (what a thrill. yawn.), and you know what, honestly, it's not like I need an excuse.


it's like you fucking do. Isn't there some construction paper at hand for you? Take a nap on it, it'll save the drool for your pimp's reindeer, and they look tired from all the flying him around in order to rape you with them GPSloccked at a different occasion.

I hope I spelled all these words correctly but you wouldn't know what to do with them even if you had them. nap tired yeah whatever loser. I don't even think you're the person who needs the fucking phone call, you're probably just the doll sent by Corporate to remember everything seen.

And now, I am the doll. Ho ho ho. That's enough for a heartless monster and a G. (Asshole.)

[Lazarus]

Cute post, and to think, it's actually comprehensible for once.

What are you batting these days? One in a thousand?

Too bad you're insane; we could have been great camping buddies.

yowzah

[Innerreach]

That's not a post. That's a girl. (You have heard of them, I am sure, and now: behold an exquisite example of its phenotype. It's one of the phenotypes that actual men actually like to actually fuck -and- then actually talk to again, for serious, which I am sure is exceptionally rare in your own personal experience. She is also actually more intelligent than I am--which must be damn near close to completely impossible in your experience, as even I am smart enough to probably not ever get close enough to you to even smell your beard. She probably has your red file on your phone, Chuckles. Her phone. On the cloud via any device anywhere everywhere whatever.) She does mumble a lot. (Shy because she can read this by looking through my optic nerve and strong enough to resist the temptation to implant a suicidal trigger in my psyche. But like a woman, pretends to believe she doesn't know how to do that.) So if she is even comprehensible at all in the course of a given day, I'm counting it lucky. (She's here to be, among other things, someone to clean up someone else's mess, as well as to make someone else jealous, which might be happening. I don't know. I also told her to make (PROT) jealous, but as I don't think there are actual feelings there, I don't know what that counts for other than being just plain rude.

Still, that's Ben all day--"Just Plain Rude." At least he comes by it honestly, like the rest of his Spiritual Wonder Boy Niggard Wealthard (BLANK-lee:FU_TOR) people. At least this time.... at least this time, there's a lock on the door, and at least: I'm not crying. (Company policy says I can cry after I divine.)

I'm not batting anything. I am one in 100 trillion and I don't give a shit about your opinion of my attractiveness, because, for one thing, you're a dude with a cock and a terrifically bad attitude ... can you even get it up without a shot? Doubt.

Second place is you're fired. I mean wait. FIRST THROUGH TEN PLACES ARE: pack your shit and get out of my governement and get back into my high life again. Yeah, you're *ralph* "undercover." Dude, fuck you. You couldn't be any more of an asshole if you tried. And, you do.

You can't even handle a simple goddam cross-portal phone call. Go fuck yourself in whatever shower you like--you won't be able to confirm that either of us would be able to keep from exploding, even if you could see me, which you wouldn't, because every fucking time, it's always destroy the planet or destroy that donkey-punch worthy sister of yours, or, some dipshit blonde who came over after getting to rape a vampire (what a thrill. yawn.), and you know what, honestly, it's not like I need an excuse.


it's like you fucking do. Isn't there some construction paper at hand for you? Take a nap on it, it'll save the drool for your pimp's reindeer, and they look tired from all the flying him around in order to rape you with them GPSloccked at a different occasion.

I hope I spelled all these words correctly but you wouldn't know what to do with them even if you had them. nap tired yeah whatever loser. I don't even think you're the person who needs the fucking phone call, you're probably just the doll sent by Corporate to remember everything seen.

And now, I am the doll. Ho ho ho. That's enough for a heartless monster and a G. (Asshole.)

[Jackstar]

Hi I'm an asshole

If you knew what I really were doing, you would probably have been a little less encouragin' 'n' enablin'. I wanted to be done with this LITERAL years ago. Like, what the actual fuck. I have been in -almost- but not quite this exact situation 4 or five times already, this year alone.

First it was the she/he think. Then it was the halitosis. Then it was the dentist. Then it was holy shit, where the fuck did all these texts come from?

This time, it's someone's sudden and mysterious angle of attack at a certain someone's White House address, which, I am telling you, was bullshit I noticed A LONG TIME ago. And yet, today, okay, fuck, I'm going to have this conversation again, really? Well, maybe I'll record a podcast about it.

I guess that is what they are for. Sure! Bathroom! Tired! Nap! Eeeeeee!

[Colonel Pate Manly]

Oui!



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