Go to SOMALIA!

MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20230314_Go_to_SOMALIA.mp3

Donate: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/doctorfreckles

Not everything is as it seems …

Link: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=4505

Psychology and Gaslighting …

“Psychiatry is a profession based on gaslighting.” – Dr. Freckles

Gaslighting: manipulate (someone) using psychological methods into questioning their own sanity or powers of reasoning.

Link: https://www.sciencealert.com/life-doesn-t-have-to-be-happy-or-meaningful-many-of-us-just-want-to-be-psychologically-rich

Go to Somalia …

“Go to SOMALIA? – as long as your army isn’t joining me.” – Dr. Freckles

Get so sick of this “go to Somalia” bullshit: 1) I served in uniform, and was honorably discharged, this should appeal to some of you MAGA shit heads 2) CAN YOU PROMISE ME YOUR FUCKING MILITARY YOU KEEP VOTING FOR WILL LEAVE SOMALIA THE FUCK ALONE? …. NO? … okay

I mean, dude … the voters: – dump their radioactive waste off the coast of Somalia – send in troops to shoot up Somalia – rip off Somali resources (I can keep going)

move to Somalia … Why? So I can get previews of what’s planned for the USA?

That’s it … PROMISE THE ANARCHISTS your fucking military will leave Somalia alone … We don’t bomb you, you don’t bomb us … (but that’s the rub shit head …) (you say “go to Somalia”, but then your armies come as well … and that’s not the point shit head)

EXCELLENT VOTING …

“Every time you vote, you are voting to be poisoned.” – Dr. Freckles

Don’t gaslight me …

Don’t gaslight me …

Don’t gaslight me on the permafrost or the arctic: what did the Trump admin say a few years ago: a) never been more arctic ice and b) the arctic is open for business (one of these could be true)

Don’t gaslight me on truck windshields in Spring and Summer.

Don’t gaslight me on the Puget Sound compared to when I was a kid …

Don’t gaslight me with respect to Norman Borlag and the “green revolution” …

Don’t gaslight me on the “it’s so much better today”, and then in the next breath call yourself an Austrian and you believe in subjective value theory … stop it.

Don’t gaslight me on the meaning of an APEX predator crashing, like the orca whales … you may not like what it means, but be HONEST about what it means.

Related to the orca thingy: don’t gaslight me on what’s happening to the salmon runs in the PNW … just don’t.

Don’t gaslight me about the birds of prey, eagles, owls, hawks, etc, moving into Little Saigon, Seattle in 2019 … right in the middle of the SEATAC N-S flight path … don’t gaslight me on this.

Don’t gaslight me on shark attacks … “see Dan, shark attacks are UP, that means the sharks are doing fine” … you are an imbecile.

Don’t gaslight me on the spraying – I don’t know for sure what it is, and neither do you … but it’s not “contrails”.

Don’t gaslight me about AI and the ROBOT APOCALYPSE – if super intelligent machines arise, we shouldn’t project OUR BULLSHIT on to them … could they steal missile codes? – sure … WHY THE FUCK WOULD THEY? .. more likely they build spaceships and leave this PILL HEAD HELL.

Don’t gaslight me over the COVID 19 … I’ve worked in healthcare, I lived NEARBY Harborview Medical Center during the PEAK of that “pandemic” … in Chinatown … in transient housing with shared kitchens … fuck off about your fake ass pandemic.

Don’t gaslight me over aliens … if there are “aliens” they are in fact butt raping demons.

Don’t gaslight me on the MOON … how the FUCK do you forget how you went there … did you know that in nearly 60 years of “space” less than 700 people have gone there … 700, out of billions.

Moving to an age …

Link: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=4458

How I broke my arm?

MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20230310_How_I_Broke_My_Arm.mp3

Donate: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/doctorfreckles

Wag the Dog … (The Ukraine War)

  1. doesn’t mean people aren’t dying – great USA psyops are also snuff flicks
  2. doesn’t mean it’s “okay” – could be the pretext for using nuclear war to “cleanse the Earth” of the excess hoi polloi
  3. Imagine a statement like this during any other war? Vietnam? War on Terror? Korea or WW2?

Broke …

“If it’s broke, use coke.” – Dr. Freckles

My THOTS …

“My dumbest thots are my best hookers.” – Dr. Freckles

How I broke my arm?

Back in December I was involved with a girl named Debra. She had green eyes and a clean body, she smoked snail-mix and loved the Bee Gees. We were at Nick’s off of Hallor Street, when we encountered her ex-husband, Neil. Neil was an oil worker and a line worker and a tree cutter and a speed freak, he spent his days near the train station, looking for spare parts the railroad dumps, and other things. His face turned red with pure anger, and he ran at me – tossing me on the floor and beating me senseless. Luckily, my dog Boomer pulled him off and bit off his nuts, but not before this shit head took brick from the door jam and split my humerus in half … for-realsies … this sucked.

I was drifting through space … lost to all I love. My ship, the “Yulia”, was headed to Zeta-Prime-Alpha-67-Charlie in the BRAVO Quadrant of sector-33, in the “cautious zone” … not a forbidden zone mind you … you just need to be cautious. My main fusion drive was overheating, after having finished chasing the pirates of Zelton around the dark star called Glyb. I went down to the engine room to help repair the magnetic bottle armature and super conducting magnet array. My Chief Engineer, Klevon, was a Jabronian. He was from the Newark Star System and he grew up on the galactic shores of East Philly. I noticed that Klevon was unconscious on the deck and the main coolant spindle was reverberating at an incredible rate. I grabbed my Leatherman, and pulled out the Phillips bit, and began torque’ing down the strumulator, which is connected to the whammy bar. At that moment, there was a burst of orgolion radiation, and it through me across the engineering deck. When I came to in the med bay, my nurse/girlfriend/hooker/accountant was massaging my “fuel seam” in order to excite my tinkle zone … but yeah … I’d completely busted my left humerus in two and fuck all about the pirates!

Hunting Grizzly … I encountered a pack of cougars being led by a mangy, out of control, wookie woman named Michelle. She was pungent and hairy, her breath smelled like cigarettes and Clairol and stale beer and popcorn. She had a bunch of cougars she’d rounded up and cornered in a cave near Mt. Gabriel, not far from the Gable Woods where the human footprints were discovered near the dinosaur footprints. I was hunting grizzly bear, and had just finished washing my svelte body in a hot spring – I was naked when I left that pool, as the wookie woman stood 40 feet above on the trail. She sent her cougars after me, busty and frothing, and ingunjulating their boovulas. It was a swampy spot, and we wrestled, nakedly, in such a itchy and burny way … after wrestling several cougars, I grew weary and ran for my camp and my 900 Winchester Magnum X-Ray lever action rifle. I was a mean cannon and hit hard. I fired two rounds at that terrible wookie, but she overtook me and tossed me into a ravine. Days later, a busty 34 year old female park ranger found me, there, naked, and brought me back to her cabin – she nursed me back to health, even setting my broken left humerus in a cast. And we spent the winter together … RIGHT?

There was a GRAND submarine battle … and I was a lowly navigator. Our sub was fighting the Russians near Dallas, Texas, and we were overtaken by a “Mexican Style Harley” which is a lot like a “Chinese Mix Chopper” and it was BAD. It could move at 120 knots under water, and carried the Epsis-3000 super torpedo. The Russians had a mean admiral in charge, Chirgov. He was a legend in the submarine races, the ones at the lake, where you were conceived … anywho. Chirgov fired 9 of these fucking torpedoes at our boat, and this caused a rupture in our hull that I helped repair. While working on that hole, a piece of stray reinforcing steel came lose and hit my left arm, breaking my humerus IN TWO. We won the battle against those fucking Russians, but I spent many months recovering from that injury.

The caves and tunnels of S’compton … a dangerous place to meet a hooker. I was lonely one Monday night, December 19th 2022 to be exact, I was watching dumb ass NETFLIX documentaries about white people killing white people but feeling bad about it … but … I was really wanting a warm body next to mine on that cold winter’s night. So I went to Craig’s List and typed into the search box “hot butt boobie style action Vernal Utah”, and you’d be SURPRISED the results I got back. I scanned them, looking at their pics, imaging the scenarios of our encounters, greasy, nasty, rough, brutal, real, sex. The kind of lovemaking where your bodies melt together at the end, and your kisses are sugar drop masterpieces. “Gerdy” said she’d meet you, near S’compton Caves, but only after midnight. Okay … I sent her a message on Snap Chat, we interacted a little and negotiated a standard price. I arranged to meet her at midnight, and I stole an old Chevy to get there. At the caves, Gerdy was already undressed … her sultry body glistening in the icy cold, her breasts fully aroused and stiffened. We made love like desert hounds, next to that roaring fire of pine and pain. At daybreak, her pimp Joel showed up with his 4 Mormon brothers, and I didn’t have money to pay for Gerdy, and they proceeded to break my left humerus over a rock … so here I am. Lesson learned? – you betcha … don’t go to Vernal.

Making love to a super advanced robot woman … this is the path to madness baby. I was reading Boy’s Life, and in the back, next to the advertisement for the “build your own hovercraft kit” was an entry for something AMAZING: “Build Your Own Robot Lover”. As we should accept, I’m a lonely burnt out code monkey mother fucker … and no one is going to warm my bed unless it’s to torch it with gasoline, but I digress … The advertisement was for plans to build the robot, not the actual robot – and it claimed you could do this for $500, if you lived near a Home Depot. I bought the plans, they arrived, and I began building Regina, my robot style lover. It took weeks, and pvc tubing, and rebar, and small motors and pistons and pulleys and lots of rubber cement. By December of 2022 I was done, and on the 19th of that month I turned that bitch on … there was smoke and sparks and weird arcs of electricity, her eyes, made of LED cameras, flickered and came to life. I began massaging her boovulex, and she conjoined with my stleevtous. After a few minutes, she kind of went crazy, asked for my credit card, and then broke my left humerus … fuck … fuck that robot.

Walking to the grocery store to get potato chips … but Lay’s Wavy plain? On December the 19th of last year, it was a Monday and I was in a really shitty mood. I woke up, got a donation, tried to transfer it to my bank from Paypal, and it didn’t work and it made me wonder if TODAY was the DAY I would be financially cancelled. I called the bank to resolve the issue and borrowed twenty bucks from my friend to go get some beer to drink and to lose myself. When I was done drinking the temperature outside was around zero degrees Fahrenheit, and it was kinda breezy, if not windy. I wanted to get a small bag of Lay’s Wavy (plain) chips, because they’d been really pixelated, unreliable, lately – some weeks the grocery store has them, some weeks they don’t. But darn it, no matter how cold it was or icy or windy, I was going to get some fucking potato chips. About a quarter of a mile from my home I hit a very slippery patch, near a street’s metal walled curb, and fell just perfectly, on that ice, that my left humerus hit the curb, as if some neo-Nazi stomper demon had done this on purpose. It was a lucky shot. My left humerus broken in two …

Why?

Because I wanted to go buy some potato chips.

SPECIAL

– a lot of people believe this is a “special” time, and therefore they don’t need to worry about food/water/shelter any longer

– a lot of people think THEY are special, and somehow the rules of logic, nature, the universe, don’t apply

(a lot of people are going to get a shock)

Suicide Drone (I have to rant about this again)

If you fire a weapon, and it is guided, and it hits a target and is destroyed as a result? – that’s called a MISSILE … there are many kinds of missiles, but none to date attempt suicide, and WHY THE FUCK would you BUILD a weapon that would achieve enough consciousness to be so depressed and unstable that it might just target some random Burger King and blow it up? Get real …

Tavistock Institute must have come up with the term “suicide drone” …

Military science: it’s dumb, not a good definition

Propaganda science: it’s perfect, it appeals to the hoi polloi and uses trigger language

Moar STOCHASTIC TERRORISM

If you are DUMB ENOUGH to believe in “stochastic terrorism”, then you’d have to believe the BEATLES were a terrorist group, because they released the WHITE ALBUM … with Helter Skelter …

Or go after rap artists like Tipper Gore did with her warning labels …

(all stochastic terrorists)

Cannibalism …

I don’t know if people see this coming – here, in the “City of Rome”, we still have food and drink and entertainment, but for how much longer?

And will you get warning from the authorities of man, or will you be left, blank faced, staring into the abyss as your world falls apart and the grocery store goes bare?

“If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened.” – Matthew 24:22