WITNESS
Lately, thinking upon my experiences going back 30 fucking years, I’ve come to believe that GOD wishes me to bear witness.
The levels of delusion are off the charts right now …
The SKY HAWK SHAMAN keeps spraying.
CHRONIC WASTING DISEASE
I am here to tell you about that elk I shot with my buck-19 40-06 style monkey cutlet.
You never consulted me about your gluten free diet of herpes bears and castaway SEWER BABIES. Those were the times when we fried our mussel broth in turpentine basters and sourdough screwballs. I could have broken your FAITH, revealing to you the RED DWEEB HONEY and biscuit bop.
After I got home I tore out my jake-saw and kleeve-hammer. I beat that damn elk to pulp, then severed drisket-cord and drained the pog-fluids. There is a wrenching smell when you cut the intestines wide open and let the bile and poop mergan spill all over the precious hunctous meat of the elk. I cover myself in the MERGAN and yell “YOSEMITE SAM I AM!” to a busted out smeared out gray sky of nothingness … empty nasty bullshit. We tossed the hunks of flesh into dirty bags and tossed that shit in the walk in freezer.
After hunting we usually rub ourselves down with forest brine and fungal swabs. Our stirgen-girds are usually stiff and pulsating, as the wench-women unleash their jugs and prepare succulent meats and other orgy bacon. The CHEESE SURPRISE happens by accident, and everyone is gone … totally mortified by the resin gloop.
Last year?
I killed 500 elk, harvested about 25 pounds total of usable meats and sausages. The rest was worm ridden, tumors and gizz-bugs. You could see the death of the world in the sinews and bone caverns empty of marrow and black with dusty old reaper burns.
Can you imagine?
The game warden came by my tent.
She was saucy and filled with spice gleam.
I took her on a journey, on those musty bags, and skoobulated her boovula with my SKIRG-rod. She quivered as her large BOOBS shivered. It was SATURDAY NIGHT style lovemaking on a Tuesday in Scompton.
People don’t know how to hunt the bear-butt french-fried monkey-bat, and it shows. They go to the woods with their sawed off shot guns and their .454 CASULLS, all to shoot gin-geese and nugget-chickens. But for monkey-bat? – you need some kind of .700 nitro express, exploding.
I could take you on a hunting trip. We will hike 34 miles past the forbidden zone on Hanford Reservation, where the leaks are spawning new kinds of clawed beasts that hunker down in the shadows and exude fumes and monkey herpes and rabies style urine piles. We would camp near the old abandoned reactor, there we will keep warm from the radioactive decay in the cooling tanks. When we return? – our women folk will be AWESTRUCK by our glowing melt spears and she’ll put on the Brittany Spears … IYKYK.
I HAVE ORAL HEALTH PROBLEMS, my mouth smells like ass.
I am your lost Eskimo Brother …
Stop hoping for the dopey ending, Mickey Mouse ran white-slaves for the CARTELS and WALT DISNEY perv’d his way to the top …
I was THERE FOR YOU in the time of BEAST MASTER LOVE MAKING and your former priest lifestyle brand was rejected by the EAST SIDE GANGS and locked in love tentacle boulder type boovula paradise.
When I was a little boy my dad talked about the tubes …
It seemed as if everything “went down the tubes”, including loved ones …
Grandpa died?
Grandma?
All went down the tubes.
Where’d the tubes go?
That’s a question you ask if you want to get tossed down the tubes.
The weird glowing alligators are back …
Nobody wants to talk about it, but it’s a mess. The JUDGE issued orders to all local hunters:
“GO OUT THERE YOU FOOLS … GRAB YOUR CAT AND YOUR SCOOTER, GO TO HOOTERS FOR THE BLOOMING ONION AND THE CATTLE MUSK. LOAD UP YOUR 77-06’s with BRISKET BEADS AND KELP GLAZE. HUNT DOWN THOSE WEIRD BLACK HAIRY ALLIGATORS THAT LIVE UNDER THE OLD ABANDONED MILL. LEAVE YOUR WIFE AND KIDS BEHIND WITH JODY.”
With that, the flare was fired and the night sky lit up with the torches and RED ROCKET party monger surprises. We broke out the PLUVICTO MEDS and gave each other reach-a-round injections into the nutt sack.
The fishermen were taken ABACK after JUDGE ZLORN declared the “black and hairy alligator” enemy NUMBER ONE. The cutters were dumping the diesel gravy into the streams, and MAYOR LOOG took pictures for the paper. Nothing dissuaded me from monitoring the cum-droppings in the local slough and then sending data back to COLUMBIA RECORDS music club.
That was my hunting trip.
Wisconsin monkey salad …
Wisconsin monkey salad …
Wisconsin monkey salad …
(on sale)
300 OSTRICHES
Dirty sheets …
THE HOLLOW MEN by T.S. Eliot
Not lost, just hard to find …
“Just because someone can’t be found, doesn’t mean they’re lost.” – Dr. Freckles
You can’t spell NUTRITION without NUTRIA!
PEDO-RAPE’Y SAM
FORREST GUMP WAS A LIE!
MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20251108_FORREST_GUMP_WAS_A_LIE.mp3
Donate: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/doctorfreckles
You have the stagnant puddle flower gleam. You get this from standing too close to the seam, to those barnacle hookers from GRAND STAND libido-ville; with tender thighs and mind carpet mastery. You were conceived before the HEGDON PRIESTS and made the first watcher, cast aside by time and left alone with the ORANGE TORPEDO WARRIOR ETHOS.
Forrest Gump left you empty neo-con promises of deconstructed RAMBO revenge fantasies. NOTHING will clean the rivers of S.E. ASIA, and those waters will spawn cancer and birth defects and autoimmune for 10,000 years. We will be gone by then, and the waters will still be foul and cursed by time. That’s what FORREST GUMP gave you: a herpes infested bowel-side nightmare future where giant lamprey rats chase your grand children down the alleyways of fate.
I am sorry you have herpes. I really am.
I am sorry that PAPA BLUMP deceived you, I am sorry, I just am so very fucking sorry.
I am sorry you listen to fools because you think surface==structure and ergo you will buy the NEW ZEALAND STYLE BULL TESTICLE BEE POLLEN SAUCE for $400 a bottle; you know you’re gonna do it, and I am fucking sorry about it.
No dick can be too big (cue TWILIGHT ZONE MUSIC), but they can be too small. Your dick might be small, my dick might also be small. Get over it. Women are the THIRST MERMANS that hang your balls below the mast of BOOVULA MAGIC and stake claim to your shit … and your monies … and your time, oh precious time. DAMN WOMEN FOR STEALING TIME, and dearly so sorry for this calamity too …. too … too muchacho.
Your last midnight cowboy hookup left you the FREIGHT WEIGHT of a slower gait and some weird blue pus coming from a place of special memories, and hot sideways action. Your own moms don’t recognize you, as you scuttle down WALMART looking for HALF OFF CORN SYRUP MEAT CUBES and other carbohydrate rich poison salve for the wounds of the HEART and Derrida’s PHARMAKON be damned to the hell of effete bowman tiring of arrow scan hallucinated Parisian style dancing walnut hookers. I’m sorry about all of this as well.
THE MARKETS WILL CLEAR when there is no longer beer, or meat, or bread, or deer. The sky turns dark from SKY HAWK SHAMAN MAJESTY and the gray smeared out cloud mass they call weather.
Chomp on your gumbit meat when the time comes, and take your hewn mashing bowl with you as you lose your teeth. Mash out cold roach paste with barely cooked rice, mash out the pasta poog surprise jerkey and get yourself a turpin-wife. You will be sorry, I too will feel a great ennui. RUN FORREST RUN, all the way to the sun, making way for GRAPE SHOT missile strikes and the sad farewell of Venezuelan fishwives and their brood living in squalor over oceans of oil. They too shall reap the whirlwind of PAPA BLUMP’S kindness. I am not sorry sorry, because you all MAGA folk should have figured this out in 2020.
“Papa Blump couldn’t do nothing”, back in 2020 … yeah … you live/die/stale with that.
I sell SEAFLOW TYPE BODY VITAMIN NUTRIENTS. You can make homespun ice suppositories, and insert these into your anus to stay cooler during the Summer months. Your CUNT WIZARDRY will do NOTHING in the path of those hairy lesbian Karren-hodlers who no longer concern themselves with body odor or breeding. Chisel out the whistle gantries for them, and let the funken-folk spin in the winds of late Autumn, as Winter approaches to fuck you up.
My vitamin mixtures are nearly 100% fool proof. You can take them before you ungunjoolate your womens and they will have 6 or 7 orgasms … and you will find peace in this …
YOU CANNOT ESCAPE MY PRIME TIME PRE-BLACK-BOOTY-FRIDAY-STYLE-COMMERCE-ATHON! I demand your attention because FUCK YOU.
Did you know that our spider egg gels and powders and ointments have been known by the ancients as the ultimate means of DEEP THROMBOUS LIVING? YOU WANT TO HAVE BEEF EATER GIN style sex with your lady, but you notice the blemish on the flesh and it’s a no go at ho-down Betty’s. It could be worse, but at SEAFLOW CORPORATION? – we’re so fucking sorry about Forrest Gump.
YOUR NUT WILL BURST and become the worst threat at the night clubs. Women will sense your skeevy energy and transform themselves into the wench-matrons of old. No longer will your sadness beacon scream “EAST GERMAN PISS HANDLER”, but rather the lather of a milky white unguent lurks below, if you can tap into BOBLIMPTOCK WISDOM.
So get out there GUMP-TON FREAKS, and leave your hunger hangover leftover burdens aside. You can’t HIDE from your STAR MISTRESS, and she’ll find you …
She’ll find you …
At the ARCO STATION, where they sell Indian food.
Ill Wind: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=23768
Sam I am: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=23764