Hate …

“Hate is the fuer-gurgen that fills the heart with steel.” – Dr. Freckles

Hate is the hag-meister that churns the yeti soul and burns the bride of the world …

Hate is the GUSTO SAUCE of total understanding where sticky blood glows and the nigh bows to sin …

Hate is the bowel bride, no longer seeking after that lost knightly frost lord, but wanting the swamp giddies and the long eyed gendiz-men …

The US economy …

“The US economy isn’t really a ‘free market’: it’s a network of linked and crooked casinos, the games at each casino might be sort of honest, but the linkages are corrupt as hell.” – Dr. Freckles

It’s not that traditional tools for financial analysis don’t work – they do: but if you disregard the crony nature of how things work, you are unlikely to make wise bets.

The TINA/FOMO BTFD folks were right all those years, and the rest of us screaming “bloody murder” were wrong – principles be damned, the death star economy is not about principles.

SHUT UP AND LISTEN …

Shut up AND LISTEN fucker …

The wookie people are coming … they’re tired of our insolence and wrathful deceitfulness and our cocaine breakfast parties …

they grow tired of our FANCY ATTITUDES …

they seek after GREASE WISDOM and the John Travolta “barbarino” happy ending …

Wookies are everywhere …

SHUT UP …

There are mass graves all over Utah … nobody talks about it. Places where hundreds of folks, natives, gypsies, were just buried … no one knows why.

You go to Vernal and say “hey buddy, want to talk about those mass graves under the WALMART” … and it’s just deer in the headlights man … and your the JORGEN NULL beast.

The elderly track down their lost cousins, to some RANCH near T’lib, where the old style Mormons have 30 wives and love is a wet noodle pie. They know about the dead, the humpton flesh, the dregs and crags and lost boys. So many humans from the atomic tests, burnt alive, and then just dumped in the Utah desert …

So shut …. LISTEN … please.

The CAT LADIES of Chicago mean business.

Prices of cat food keep going up, so they pick up some poor sap at the bar and get him home, and kill him. Then, with the Kitchenaid, they turn that poor suitor into FANCY FEAST for their furry kids …

These cat women don’t care about you … they might be sexy and busty, but they will feed you to their cats …

SHUT UP FUCKER … listen.

UNIVERSAL PEST MERCHANTS are setting up shop near PLUTO. They don’t care that it’s not a planet and they don’t give a shit about your IDEAS or DREAMS …

These sleaze flesh dealers are looking for pink-monkeys and they will sell these among the QUIB of REGION-HOTEL. They get gold and diamonds for each hairless atrocity as they dance to the naked duel snakes and live like DUKES on the chamber of dark energy and brown dwarfs …

AND YOU SIT THERE AND ACT LIKE EVERY THING IS OKAY!

Eating your McMuffins and pondering Sklade the Foul?

Your time is coming RUBE and the glow of amber lightning shall envelop your tasteless heart and a cat named PHIL will relieve you of your LIFE …

DO YOU HEAR ME MOTHER FUCKER?!?

Listen …

In the not too distant future:

  1. Turg Nurdlers from the inner Earth.
  2. TANTRIC HYPERINFLATION (Jerome is great)
  3. Bone math for the kids.
  4. Roach paste riots …
  5. Love pastures near Sklabe Ville …
  6. Signature miniature Mama Celeste pizzas made from depleted uranium and blood sausage.
  7. Kelly fast cars and the death rattle …
  8. “Nothing will be found, nothing will be discovered, the universe is a METH MONKEY and you are its bitch.” – Dr. Freckles

And I still don’t think you can hear me …

(you’re not listening)

Reasoning with PSYOPs …

“You don’t reason with a PSYOP, you ignore it.” – Dr. Freckles

Options:

  1. this is real, and they really do want to drive most people insane
  2. this is not real, and they really do want to drive most people insane
  3. this is the end times
  4. there is no God, and this is the infinite gray nothing … a cosmic expanse of existential NULL