I like LINUX, but that doesn’t mean something magical happens when you install it. I like it because it’s simple, elegant, loads fast, transparent, and FREE … or in the way that makes sense.
YOUR CPU is just as OWNED as before, but you deal with less MICROSOFT/GOOGLE/APPLE bullshit … but it’s not some utopia.
I’m going to piss some people off …
If you LIKE UBUNTU (so fuck off right here if you don’t), UBUNTU BIONIC BEAVER 18 was probably the last stable non-owned UBUNTU …
Hacking, like defense, is about DEPTH: sometimes all you need to own is the user’s mind. But often owning the OS is enough, and the deep state just assumes you stay at that Snowden/Assange level and not dig deeper. So, at least with LINUX you have a friendly OS that naturally and by design helps protect against SHALLOW NON HARDWARE or MAN IN THE MIDDLE attacks.
I’m opening a PLANTATION in the EVERGLADES. I want busty figure 8 mocha bitches, and hard as SCRATCH DEEP BLACK NEGROES for the alligator wrestling arena.
Yes GRINKEN MAN, WOAH-MAN, we bumble and fumble our way from BOBLIMPTOCK to GRINKEN TIME. HEAVING and SEETHING, we FALTER in the spaces between hummingbird breaths and toilet crab heartbeats.
WE SWAY from side to side in the fray, as TONGUE-BLASTERS and NICKLE-COMMIES toss urine bags at the cops and the National Guard troops turn the water canons on us.
REELING AND ROLLING, our ship of FATE moves CLOSER to that everlasting forgetfulness, stuck in the coiled spring and waiting for the Summer evening.
Tottering, we fall over …
Floundering, we run aground …
And OUR SHIP SHAPE MUSKRAT LOVERS GLARE at our silky hair and wonder, “is DAN using a new conditioner?”
FRET NOT BOBLIMPTONAUT, your courage powers the MOON TRAIN and you will go INSANE when the carpal tunnel kicks in and the sin-regiment closes down shop.
WE ARE NOT THE WOBBLE HEADED DUKES of yesteryear. Our beer is FRESH and CRISP and lends to a derangement of the stool and a loosening of control over meat supplies.
We will not STEER out of the way, we will VEER out of the way …
When the light turns GREEN at the intersection, we HIT THAT 4-BARRELED BASTARD and dump 4 tons of gasoline magic into the ENGINE, and the wheels spin, and the lurching continues …
YOUR STOVETOP STUFFING is a muffin surprise for the EYES that lock with yours. That woman, and her COWBOY FUNK stunk up the PLACE and it was ACES you’d be playing “escape room” with her that night.
JEB LOVERS stick to the mountaintops, where the BLUE BIRD sings songs and the old timers bury themselves alive. JIVE TURKEYS get COOKED, and the SPIN SEAT HIDEAWAY is frozen in time as particles of light sweep over the fields and pastures.
I DEMAND YOU SAY:
“I WILL LURCH TO CHURCH!”
I will lurch to church and shire and chosen squires, keeping track of baby back ribs and chuck roast to boast.
THE PIZZA MAN is not my pal.
I CAREEN down the valley, heaving and broken, my words not spoken till the first WOAH-MAN came to hear.
I can stare down the BATS living upstairs, and take you to the sauna where we turn on the 60’s MOTOWN and with a FROWN you take my cash and bash my skull in , but I keep lurching.
With heaviness we sigh and the world spins further out of control. Our THIRST is without bounds, and the WHOLE TOWN is up in arms about what we did at Obrien’s Farm. You have a THIRST BURDEN and no one can take it down, the sign says “STOP”, but you lurch along, singing your song, to the BONG HEADS dying in the canal.
YOUR SCABS are CRAB MEAT for the FLEET when their ship comes in.
YOU PAINT YOUR BODY with TURBO TONGS and sober remedies, but the lost ones near the church don’t know; if they can GROW they can lurch too.
LESSONS are LEARNED when you get so badly burned that meaning is set aside in exchange for gun powder.
SO GET UP ON YOUR FUCKING FEET, it’s NEAT to FAIL-FORWARD and FALL on your miserable rice cakes.
HERE ARE THE OATHES of GRINKEN MAN and WOAH-MAN:
Don’t sell things to DANES, don’t buy things from DANES. Don’t let your kids marry Danes, don’t ever have a Danish Obstetrician. Don’t let DANES make DRUGS or PRESCRIBE DRUGS, don’t let Danish people watch your dog while you are on vacation.
YOUR COLOR COMPOUND is YOUR PROUD BUNKER. Hunker down and eat your chili out of a can and make sure you have plenty of TRIPLE STRAND CONCERTINA WIRE and the special gloves, IYKYK.
WHEN THE MAGICIANS and GRIFTERS are selling their WARES? – keep your fucking eyes on the hands. Not the smile, not the fucking busty assistant in the skimpy outfit; watch the hands.
You don’t know any more than I do, but you can use logic and simple truths to glean some undigested grapes and peanuts from the CAULDRON of LIES. Still though, you might only know the complete truth when it no longer matters.
PAUL HARVEY IS G.O.A.T. – he set the standard for totalistic love-being and the share cropping of human life.
GRINKEN MAN and WOAH-MAN were MADE for each other. We are good and nice and moist. We are sweet and sexy together – call me!
PLEASURING a WOAH-MAN takes triple-threat maneuvers and weary hand toggling. YOUR SNAKE is the real pusher, and SHE WILL SEEM CRAZY if you’re not TOO lazy when you’re finishing her off.
DO NOT FORGET BIRDY BESS! Do not forget what she WILL DO upon BUNKTON DAY!
SUPER POWERS cost MONEY, and we don’t take checks or credit cards.
TO BE A KUNG FU MASTER you have to understand the TAO of CLAM. Your honey-mustard JAM will TINGLE when you mingle BRUCE LEE with AUSTRALIAN KANGAROO and KOREAN STYLE kick-boxing.
DANARCHISM is your SOUL THRUSTER and it will power your life through the pain and strife and your balanced crane shall not die. Instead LIVE PROUD FEVER MOMENTS, Gulliver’s Travels is your map.
SPEAK THE GREAT PRAYER TO THE SKY HAWK SHAMAN:
OH GREAT SKY FLAG, BLUE AND RED AND WHITE, FIGHTING COLORS for dead black mothers.
Fighting spirit for the gin parched, and the after school clan.
BE THE BEST WAGON GANG, WE WERE KANGZ, AND the RAIN stopped, and the waters receded.
NO LONGER ARE YOU HUNGRY or sad, NO LONGER DO YOU CARRY that monster dilly palace sandwiched in your brain.
CLAIM YOUR SALTY AND SAVORY VICTORY!
MAKE YOUR WOAH-MAN REAL!
Frolic away, shamble away, heave and weave, roll and tilt, lurch and perch, careening down the canyon wall.
Shakespeare originally wanted to call HAMLET “Denmark if for Mother Fuckers”, but his agent (Danish) said no.
Danish babies are sequestered, for hours, by themselves, while they cry and moan.
The Yentl Laws declare that NO DANE may have MORE or LESS than any other DANE, and the Danish government sends out OLD LADIES with 9mm machine guns to enforce these rules.
Half of all Danish people have uncontrolled genital crabs.
Copenhagen was founded in the year 3455 BC by an ancient MYST-KING named FRAGOR. He built the original ramparts to fend off the swamp people from Novgorod, and the MONGOLIAN BBQ pop-up restaurants.
ROME WAS FOUNDED by two DANISH BOYS named REBAR and ROBYERBUTT. Thousands of years of torture and EVIL are traced back to this.
FOUR times a year DENMARK is immersed, sunk, into the BALTIC – no one asks why.
ALIENS enjoy probing DANES the most.
Every problem in your life is connected to Copenhagen and the RED DANES of SLEEVER STREET.
Danes control the banks, Hollywood, all the good jobs, and Orange Julius.
The average dog can smell a Dane from 245 miles away.
DIABETES is a SCHEME, in the “PROTOCOLS of KRINGLE”
OLD DANISH CRONES will wander the streets looking for hope and optimism and love, they will scowl and yell and break the spell of peaceful Sunday style living. They like screaming at KIDS and will lead a flock of children back to their nasty shacks in the woods, and if only they could escape – that Egyptian modeled shack.
When DENMARK decided to invade GERMANY in 1940, no one cared; the fucking GERMANS SUFFERED under GEORG and the NEERDOWELL SCAVENGERS of GRID-31. KEEVOUS the MAD SWEDE sold sweaty dog pretzels to the opium dealers in Esbjerg, where the wild dogs are fed from the dead babies that so many DANES just cast aside, along the road, in the ditch.
The BIGFOOT live among the DANES, but mainly to keep an eye on them …
DANES CAN’T BE TRUSTED, not with sheep or dogs or beer. They will STAB YOU IN THE BACK, and CRY OUT as they beat YOU. If you go on a date with a Danish person, you might need full body radiation for any and all STDs you get.
YOUR DOG FRAMED PADIGM will not MATCH a Copenhagen’s hooker’s needful surprise. When her EYES catch yours you’ll see the speckles of purple, and KNOW that her systems are corrupted and she is NO WOAH-MAN for you to snuggle with.
DANES eat flea dust and live off of rotten fish testicles.
DANES LOVE to smell their farts, and they cart around a load of pain wherever they go.
YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED to save a Danish person if they are drowning – I think this is in Psalms.
Every CHRISTMAS the people of DENMARK make a FEAST of the HOLIDAY FRENCHIE. A family will buy a HOLIDAY FRENCHIE from the KOREAN down the street, and it’s so neat because they will decorate it and cook it on Christmas Eve. Then, the children awaken to that well done FETE and sit at the table to ladle in the misery and scorn and to wish they’d never been born.
One drop of DANISH BLOOD can pollute a reservoir.
YOU EVER STUB YOUR TOE ON A STONE? – a Dane placed the rock there.
JORVIAN MUSK WOMEN wash up on the shores of Latvia, and people know what’s going on. QUORG-HUNTERS from RANDERS grab a sander and set to the work of cleaning the roads. So many prostitutes and nuns are taken out by these weird DANES and their SWEDISH COUSINS that remove bottle caps from beer bottles with their TEETH. And underneath that mess lay a jester and his rubble poetry, and the dead whisper to ODIN “my mother smells”.
SCHRODINGER killed 5.4 million cats to prove a point: he was Danish.
THE VIKING KINGDOM of OLDE DENMARK ruled 45% of MICRONESIA and OHIO. They had boats that skimmed their way up the Mississippi and made landfall in CHICAGO and Las Vegas. SIMPLER CATS tried to farm and log, but the bogs were deep and the sheep died of COVID.
ENGLISH WIVES with fish for garnet, as the DANES go by in their fancy cars. No one cares that the kids eat dental floss and the market only sells ass. YOUR PAST LIVES thrived on this kind of living, but the GIVING is getting harder and the DANES don’t care.
3/4 Danes have killed someone’s grandma, half of these were fed to squirrels.
THERE IS NOTHING SACRED to the DANES!
They feast off of cotton-mouth minstrels and traveling piss monkeys. The DANES cleaved together a “culture” of porn and vice and spider egg delights.
You don’t want to go there, have you seen the movie franchise HOSTEL?
You don’t want to find a man or a woman there, they will come back to YOUR HOME and pollute it with their EEL tragedies.
You can’t handle DANISH LIES and coconut pies, their women have boobs filled with industrial plastic and used toilet paper.
