Category: Planetary Status Reports

I have 8 kinds of shuriken …

10 kinds of swords …

I can kill a grizzly bear with a napkin …

The BUSTY WENCH MAIDENS of QUADRANT-CHARLIE seek after my white bean chili, to baste themselves in, to waste themselves in; I am the sought after hard CHARGER breaking in new panty paradise lovers.

There are no ENEMIES that I have not vanquished before they were born; they never saw it coming.

THOSE THAT FEAR ME fear THE GREAT SKY-YOTE, a COYOTE with the wings of a golden eagle, and the ability to bring forth storms and hookers.

YOUR SEED HARMONY is only in balance when you can demonstrate a good credit score; so don’t “cancel” that card and be all woke, go broke and see the wisdom as yours.

A kind and gentle wind blows from my arse towards the stars, and before the taverns kick out all the hobos and the FORGE DEMONS take turns corn holing my diseased mind. Insights are to be found on the ground of that CHEVRON STYLE restroom, near the urinal cake residue and the rotten floor butter and blood. You can SMELL the liver failure in that dank location, and nowhere is there a destination for sexual rejuvenation and SOUL TRAIN HIDEAWAYS.

YOU CAN FIGHT BACK, once you finish that drink – no one likes a quitter.

And I have a laser canon. A canon and a star ship. Leave the POSER persona at church, and LURCH YOUR WAY to BODY DESTINY and BRUISER stroke cherry cruising.

YOUR BODY is an INSTRUMENT of SOUL GATHERING – it was designed by a genius named God.

Keep tracking meadow child.

I open a TEAR in space-time, with my CRESCENT SPIRIT I summon RAVENS, the ravens carry the TARG-MIST to ZENITH, and if I could I would travel with you boyo. We’d grease the skids with bidding and budding super thought and a clotted meth heart for girls living at the trailer parks.

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT GUY, the torpedo general? – he built a bucket, and put crabs in it, and then put that on TV. LATE NIGHT in 1988 you’d tune in with your college dorm BLACK AND WHITE, and to your FRIGHT the crab-bucket (Morton Downey Jr Show) was on TV.

That was long ago, or not so long ago …

To the Morton Downey Jr Show …

He died only a few months before 9/11, only a few weeks after BUSH2 was GRATIFIED as POTUS …

Accident my fragrant water sprite or INCIDENT?

That’s the key to hiding paperclips.

WAS HE TOO KIND TO SURVIVE?

WAS HE TOO SMART TO LIVE?

Did he try to warn us, did we listen? – or did we just see the crabs in the bucket, and nothing more. THIS IS THE PATH of sphincter awareness, and bloody stool revelations. Don’t be afraid of your pickle brine roses, don’t be afraid to clean out your mind-closet. If you want to be dangerous, you must first be oblivious. Morton knew, do you?

HOOKTOGGENFOOK is the MYSTERY PATH.

YOU HOOK the TOGGEN fairy and HAIRY McDaniels plants the SPARK MAGNET in your prefrontal cortex. FOOK is the means by which common man is redefined as GRINKEN MAN LOIN HARBINGER and capable of the infamous G.I. JOE KUNG-FU GRIP.

ESKIMO TRIBESMAN and WAYWARD SHAMAN have always understood the ancient MASTERY of HOOKTOGGENFOOK, also called the “Way of Way Too Much Coke” or the “TAO of the CLAM”.

You get crazy headed and decide to eat 5 bags of Halloween candy, and it’s All Saint’s Day so the AMC CHANNEL is having one of those fucking 48 hour dedication thingies to the CHARLES BRONSON OEUVRE, specifically fucking DEATHWISH … and yeah, that genre played out 40 fucking years ago.

YOU GRIP your lovers TIT-TEASER, and use HER boovula power against HIM in the shower. LIFE ENERGY DROPLETS can be tossed at that nasty hoe, and you’ll row your way on the good ship lollipop, invented by GEORGE SMITH in 1206 AD. A GRAY DAY NIGHTMARE broke out over SPLUNCTON, and all the ranger danger hustlers went to Panama City to chase hooker rash splendor. Do you ever WONDER HOW you might become more dangerous than a US Navy Seal on SPECIAL-K? – well, you might go broke to find out, but you’ll never be afraid of bullies again … probably.

According to this BEING-SCRIBE, there are 6 SHOCKING levels of HOOK-TOGGEN-FOOK mastery. If you can attain and attune yourself to these levels, you might be able to destroy the most powerful UFC fighters in the world. That’s a hard maybe.

1 – SPICEY SEX TRANCE DANCE

YOU FOUND the FLOWER of MOUNT HESPA, and in the leaves you heard the voice of the warrior wolf spirit flame. You CAME to me to find GREATER STRENGTHS and COURAGE, but your spider-self is revealed and congealed and the dead cast stones at your head while you sleep. To be a TIGER’S GROWL? To be the eagle’s talon? – YOU CHUG A GALLON of white drip slop from the CHINESE FACTORY near the old abandoned well.

A note to the cantor: sing the ALTO jello style Romeo mix, make the base COOL and HIP – churn and burn with a twerky little kiss. Then, see the frosting glow. A proper spin move, using your LEFT CHEEK and RIGHT BOOB as a blocking singlet. People from Jamaica would call this the “absent mother oblique”, but I like to see it as a modified “Kentucky Style Ass Kicking” with focus on butt-forces and torqueing it to work it, work it good, making the milk shake.

It is reported that even CHUCK NORRIS was taken out with this application of slick-physics. Women have the advantage using this stratagem, and its performance as a primary stance maneuver renders your opponent speechless, and open to frontal assaults and severely painful kicks to the groin.

2 – KICK MASTER RABBIT STANCE

The TRUE karate master stands on a piling near the shore, the water is rising. He has one foot on the piling and the other raised near vertical. With his arms he makes rolling and waving motions, and the tiger shark awaits his day to shine. Nearby, there are spectators throwing garbage at the master, taunting him; he does not smile. His CURSE is to be the MONKEY-SPARROW and haunt the glowies and spice-emo types hanging on to their gothic ways.

RABBITS are keen sailors, have you heard of watership down?

RABBITS have YOKE-FIBERS and are capable of hopping through any bramble shamble.

RABBITS can hear for miles and see beyond, their eyes are cherished in India and sold by poor children as delicacies. Currently, there are over 23 billion rabbits in the USA alone, and no one really knows how many worldwide. You question it? – don’t mother fucker, just don’t, not if you want karate-master super power bar SEA-FLOW kinds of BOOB KNOCKING CROTCH ROCKET giveaways and ice cream sundaes.

CROUCH like a LION, put your left hand into the sleeping snake, while pulling back your right arm and twisting your left foot right. Close one eye, I don’t fucking care which one, and meditate on WATER and ice and that SEA-FLOW energy drink franchise you’re opening up in your garage for your friends so they can buy boxes of that shit and sell them to their friends, forever …

Some accidentally mistake this with the drunken-eagle pose, but that’s because they are racist. In reality, this is a modified “Korean grandma” paired with a LESS POTENT “Alabama share cropper”. It’s easy to confuse these.

YOU WILL SPIN THEIR HEADS and bring on the RED, as dead copter-priests are torn apart. Don’t be AFRAID to engage with the WOLF-WOMEN of Simi Valley, they can’t call the cops because they’ve been fucking their husband’s chiropractor. YOU FACE THEM with RED EYES and a jaundiced spirit charge, their LARGE wallets are fool of stolen loot – so give them the boot and take that cash. YOU ARE THE RABBIT VOICE and it’s time to take a piece of that warren and make a festival of your GRINKEN STYLE self-care.

3 – THE QUADRUPLE WHAMMY

NINE APE KINGS descended from MOUNT TLOR, with them they brought a throng of shanty folk and denizens of the lake country and river bend blossom glens. They told the midget king that SOON the moon would become a RED CHARIOT and RACCOON PIRATES would ravage the kingdoms and saloons.

YORBIS, the “STUD BREAKER”, cooked turnip sauce and pig gravy for the wanderers and mongers and storytellers. He’d be up all night, sitting on his porch, staring deeply into the enveloping darkness. As teachers went, he went a long ways.

BACK TO THE BEGINNING was the answer, as we chance another TRYST in the misty carnival palace. We scope out the whale-pasture and realize that GAIT and power pools are simply the natural extension of BRUCE LEE STYLE helmet pounders.

YOUR KELP TRAINER calls you a hippo-head and an elf-herder. You DESERVE GREEN SWERVE caribou techniques, but his SEEKER BULLET HEAD nastiness comes out as rocket-jockey strip club style muncher stew. YOUR SOUL GROOVE is to HOOK the FOOK and TOGGEN the NOGGEN. With time and practice you will learn to defeat your negative insinuations, and preform at PEAK LEVELS with SEA-FLOW ENERGIZED poly-crystals. After a few weeks your electrons will become 5% bigger.

STAKE OUT THE HIGH GROUND, do a triple high kick with double punch …

Pick up that BRICK and bust his skull, so the crimson river feeds the aesthetic of dominance. YOUR MOVE is to SLAMMA his JAMMA and whammy the right side of his liver-pouch. IF HE SEES YOU first, this will not succeed.

Sometimes you just see your enemy at that bridge, the one with the low railing. And you could just knock him over, sending him to happy sleep town on the rocks along the river below, about a 200 foot drop. But you don’t know what CAT FORCE this guy possesses, and the voice in your head is your guide and it says “bet the chips, let’em ride” so that your dog can become a real person, one day, upon BUNKTON DAY.

4 – DOUBLE THUMB SLAMMER

YOU CLEVER BASTARD, if you made it THUSLY then you are READY for NEXT TIER PIANO WIRE SHUTDOWNS. YOUR HAND IS THE LIFE KNOWN-NOW, with it you can SHUT THEM DOWN. ANGER BULLETS are stored in your grape thong underwear, so point to the YABBA and YABBA DABBA DO, you Saturday morning turtle. Keep calm, stay the course, line your pockets with pixie dust misery and hassle that dazzling midnight with talk of whiskey and old timer meat boxes.

TAKE A HERO STANCE, staring down your enemy. HOOK-TOGGEN-FOOK means clamp on to the water buffalo folly, take the TROLLEY PROBLEM to funky town where they sell brown brown and taffy and cake. Cancel your subscription to NETFLIX, eat more kale. Learn to SAIL that kite runner, as the summer turns to dark and the bark burns with shriveled lip fury.

YOU CAN ENDURE if the wolf spirit allows it.

YOU ARE NOT MEANT TO BE TRASH!

Stop brushing your teeth, you will find RELIEF with shadow terminations and Friday Night Massacres. YOUR ELTON JOHN will be GONE once the DRAGON FIST connects.

Make a karate fist, stick your thumb BACKWARDS while balancing on the balls of your feet, tilt your head 45 degrees, unzip your pants and put your junk on display. This is NOT gay because our BIG SUR INSTITUTE is happy and not sad. Don’t be mad if it takes you several years to master this move; I am sending you a soul-hug.

5 – KOBYASHI MARU (no win scenario)

Take on the STALLION POSE, but grab your crotch and squeeze.

Drop to your knees and BOUNCE.

It’s like that DUDE in 1992, the trucker who stopped at the WRONG intersection – dusky and swarthy types, taking a break from BIG SCREEN TVs and CD PLAYER MELEE, tore him and pulled him into the street, to take that COUP DE GRACE and fold over party dress fantasy. YOU can stand up to the mob but you can’t be a slob, and if they’re rioting don’t stop, just drive through the crowd, real loud, and scrape the road apples off when you get home.

You’re busty and nubile, fighting another equally voluptuous woman to her death, as fat men wearing MAGA hats cheer? – the time is near. YOUR CROUCHING DRAGON and HER HIDDEN TIGER means maybe that “Lola Song” is going on and you can never be too careful when you check the bulge.

YOUR BLASTER STRIKE MOVE will appear impossible, as two legs become three – and the mountain pasture vermin will be AMAZED as they graze on your impossibilicous and throat scandals.

CHANGE YOUR MOTION LIGHTNING, as the curves take hold and the road turns to burnt toast. Candles and oils, the ancient soils, damaged huddle fruit and that old coot you stabbed and buried in the basement.

YOUR BEST MOVE is to use gasoline stench hand gestures and matchstick smiles.

6 – THE TAO of CLAM

CLAM MAGIC is the tragic last step.

THE HIP WARRIOR DRIP is to move from “flattened monkey” to “stubborn rat” pose. Your opponent, caught off guard, will counter with a flying wheel kick. You will counter THAT with a double throat punch and one arm bender. If you hear the CRACK, it means you are in luck, and that FUCK now knows the meaning of the death touch.

CONCLUSION:

STAGGER YOUR memory charts and give in to the rising smoke.

VERY SOON NEW FRIENDS will surprise you with a special gift.

Dance and prance and change your stance, curl your toes and slap your bros. You are the SINGING DOORMAT and NO ONE is going to stop you.

Remember these key concepts:

1. Hammer-fist throw tables.
2. BRAMBLE BEAR HUGS
3. SCOOB MONSTERS
4. JIZZ MAGIC
5. BOOB TWISTING
6. COCK JUMBLING
7. ANAL SPLOOSH
8. WILMA STYLE SPLITS
9. JET STAR FOCUS
10. MIRROR JAZZ
11. HOOTENANNY
12. HOOKER SALE SAUSAGE
13. PIMP PLAY
14. SLY MARTINI HUSTLE

The SCLOVIS lived long ago, and shared their SPIDER STYLE reasoning with the scorpion and the owl. As time turned to yellow haze, the FRED MAZE types left California and moved to Toledo and Denmark. This diaspora of pretty things, covered in LA bling, was the result of the great GUMPTON PLAGUE of 4456 BC. OH HOW MANY SCREAMED as the cream-pie getaways turned to open-ended love-canos.

THE EARTH WAS COVERED in love-canos once. Geologic features that pressed hard against the wooden spirit of that ancient world. Love-canos shot JETS of PURE WHITE LOVE, like a fountain of cream, like an uncorked champagne bottle stretching to the stars. These love-canos went away, as the STROGLIN-VILLAGERS climbed out of the hole, smoked a bowl, and began constructing cities and other types of sewers. But we remember, we keep the barges nearby and prepare for the day of LOADING.

IN THE TIME BEFORE TIME – KLESMER forces forged the SOUL MAGIC using rune stones and sacred mushrooms and old hag pizza. After the reluctant nuns converted to hollandaise sauce hookers, vibrant dance rituals were used to summon LORD GUSTO of the THIRD BALTIC STUD ARMY. Invariably, these disgraceful types sullied the ranks and left dishonor and calumny in their wake. And so began a great age of darkness – till now.

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, then of course you’re ready buddy – do you have 50 bucks?

An old truck?

A sucker in a box or a fox?

Can you get a HELOC done son, and send me the money – we’ll meet at midnight along highway 101.

Not far from BIG SUR, our organization has a spiritual training center. At this place of refuge the MENTALLY CAPABLE can learn new tricks from MASTER BIX.

You will spend several months or years there, or until you run out of money. But don’t think this is funny, because many authorized “churches” do this, check out the 501C3 registry my mendicant and DESTROY your fear goblin with relevant facts and a BEACH BODY exercise plan.

Our core program has 9 core skills to be attained:

1 – MIND FIRE

Mind fire training begins with walking on coals – but not just any coals. Hot, burning, fueled by forges, glowing red stones and chunks of glowing steel. Your feet will heal eventually in our private clinic, and then you’ll try again. You have the DISCIPLINE of mind-fire when you can shove a glowing red hot carpenters nail through your foot. You have attained SCARLET MASTERY when you can insert a glowing coal into your own rectum.

YOUR MIND FIRE is the sable guard tulip that steps OUT of the shadows, it’s the burning STRENGTH that keeps you going. To attain mind-fire means to hold counsel with ravens and to get drunk and dance naked at 2 AM. CLAM SWALLOWS will watch over you, and your life will spark an avalanche of misery and scorn. YOU ARE BORN the moment you DISCONNECT from your family and friends … unless you need money, and then invite them to “family day” at the Big Sur Compound.

Typically, this process takes 1-2 months, but some have gotten their faster. Our MONKEY BLASTER sweetheart deals are a steal, and you can have this all for $49,999.99 …

2 – DRAGON’S BREATH (halitosis)

This might be the most powerful super power you will learn, and learn to hate. It’s great, because OLD SUZY SQUAT FACE is stalking you and with this new skill ONE BREATH will turn her AWAY. You will BREEZE through your day, with your boss leaving you alone, and on the phone you’ll carve out your cube-steak and make merry before the demon mistresses. There is NO TIME LEFT for frolicking, and the smell of that dread putrescence will cast CHARMED CURSES upon CODE PINK witches and the curly-bat SPLC drog-faeries.

This process takes weeks, and requires a specialized diet and CHUNKING of food. You have to consume herring dust and muskrat-jerky. You will smoke cigarettes and drink coffee and trip your physiology into GERD where the true capabilities lay.

YOU WILL MAKE YOUR MOUTH a colony to parasites and bacteria and mold. During those COLD MONTHS when the ordinary street tramps are looking for a “happy night Charlie”, your protective spell will raise hell and the prancing biscuit-wenches of the upper eastside will want to take a ride, but your ski lift is closed for repairs.

The price of this POWER is between $10,000 and $30,000. But believe me, it’s worth every penny.

3 – TIME JUMPING

Have you ever wanted to go back in time and KILL HITLER?

Have you ever wanted to BE HITLER, in that figurative sense?

Do you have pent up rage or disappointment about events in your life that you can’t let go of?

At our institute, we teach a variety of skills and techniques for harnessing CHRONOS and making time itself your own personal spittoon, adorned with GOLDEN festoons and garnishes of potato.

KARL DORNING, son of a famous NAZI “paperclip” scientist, attended our 8 weekend lab. At first he was skeptical, then, after a few weekends, he began drifting backwards in time. Soon he could HOP TO ROMAN TIMES and fight bears in the Colosseum. He rode with bandits and sailed the oceans, Karl mad a name for himself fighting the commies on the Eastern Front.

Might you achieve the skills of Karl? – perhaps …

But only after you’ve exhausted your saving and been driven raving mad.

Don’t be sad, it’s all on sale for $4,000 a weekend.

4 – BARSTOOL ESP

We’ve discussed the WOAH-MAN and her importance to our cause, but have you considered how difficult it is to date these days? – dating sucks beyond imagination, especially if you’re divorced and over 40 years old.

But with BESP or Barstool ESP you will be able to CUT THROUGH THE BULLSHIT and plant thoughts in some random woman’s head. You can take her to bed, breeding and seeding, and nine months later a bunctous baby is born in your shed. It’s not super easy, but not impossible.

You will LEARN how to properly GAZE at women, how to stare and GET NOTICED. We will teach you the 4 magic handshakes and the easiest way to slip drugs into her drink. You might think this is crooked, but BOOK YOURSELF A FLIGHT and stay the night. Learn from us and stop going home alone. Your JOAN of ARC is waiting, somewhere, down the street, at a local bar and grill – if you can take this pill.

Prices are insubstantial when it comes to true love, so BE A BRAVE DADDY and take this course for a spin. It’s just 2 weeks, with a break, and we’ll even throw in a steak.

All for a surprising $25,000.00 – what a deal bro!

5 – FREEZE RAY

Everyone dreams of freezing the world.

On some hot summer day in South Texas, with the Mexican landlords handing out coffee-shake, you want to stop the baking but there’s no way out – don’t pout.

At our Big Sur Institute, we’ll teach you how to slow down molecules, and force electrons to release quanta of energy. ON YOUR FIRST DAY you will learn how to cool your coffee drink by 10 degrees in under 3 minutes, amazing.

There are great dangers in this power, and it is not for the faint of heart. Camel riders from Africa have understood the treachery of ice-demons and the curious fate of squirrel-nugget hoarders when the borders of your subconscious become engorged by the MIST TRIALS of Lord THULE. At the peak levels of capability, you will be able to force clouds to snow and cause women’s nipples to become erect.

Don’t deflect young man, your CAN of JOY awaits on your first date if you have the ability to project freeze rays.

One weekend a month, for 7 years: $2.3 million dollars (a bargain).

6 – TITANIUM FISTS

Do you get belligerent when you get drunk?

Do you start a lot of fights?

Are you a weakling who is bullied and have reached your breaking point?

OUR 8 day SUPER PACKAGE, costing only $77,999.88, will have you WINNING – even against professional boxers and UFC dudes.

With this skill you can KILL with your hands. The sands of ages watch over you, as you PUNCH YOUR WAY to victory. Your hands will GLOW RED HOT, and the smell of long-pig slashing will cover your leather jacket. This is NO RACKET to be imbued with this THRILL POWER and body rot.

We may have to inject you with a new form of herpes, and you might get cancer …

BUT THAT’S CHEAP if it keeps the mean guys away, okay?

So send us the payments, in gold and silver and diamonds and cocaine.

7 – LASER BEAM EYES

Yada-yada-yada, you will be able to MELT CHEESE with your eyes.

$2,200 a day for 10 days.

8 – WALKING THROUGH WALLS

IDGAF, just fucking pay me ….

9 – REMOTE VIEWING PEOPLE ON THE TOILET

It’s cool, sometimes they are having sex – most often they are talking on their phones at work. FUCK YOU PAY ME.

EPILOGUE:

YOUR FEAR MONSTER is why YOU are trapped. Like the OLD SKOKI MILLS where the immigrants were killed to add carbon to the steel? – you will be ground up into BEING-MEAL and toaster oven chieftains will each get a bite.

Tell me you don’t have money? – steal it.

Tell me you don’t have time? – fuck off.

Tell me you think this is a SHAM? – really fuck off.

G.M.F.Y.I.L.Y.

Very soon, the ground will shake.

At the appointed time, the world will HOWL like a TIGER.

Our LIGER limitations do not worry, in a hurry we will break through the overcast skies and find a warm place in the sun to die.

On February 12th, 202X, a young woman named Birdy Bess will make her way to WALMART to buy 4 cases of 9mm ammo and 10 boxes of 12 gauge. THERE’S A VIRUS ALERT on the TV, and MAGA MAN SAM is selling his pitch to every KAREN Bitch: lock yourself down, toss your children in the storm drain, eat your protein slurry and SHUT THE FUCK UP … slave. But BIRDY will have none of this hokum.

“Where’s your mask?”, slurred the WALMART greeter, his hands shaking from carbon monoxide poisoning and fiberglass damage to his lungs from the necessary “masks”.

“WHERE’S YOUR MASK LADY?”

“I don’t need that”, answered Birdy. But she could see the fat commie slovitch type was going to get his manager AND the security guards.

She was cornered on all sides, inching closer they would grab her and take her to the back office and teach her a lesson in WHAT’S UP, but Birdy could sense this – she used to date football players.

The baroolian freak, the nasty security guard, grabbed Birdy by the arm and squeezed – he pinched her arm down to the bone, and BIRDY screamed.

Birdy pushed away from these cavemen and pulled out a .357 magnum. She cocked the gun and asked the “men” to step back, so they did, but a nearby KAREN called 911 on her “smart” device and soon the building was surrounded by cops and sheriffs and other assorted pedophiles and wife beaters.

Birdy wasn’t alone though …

There was THAT GUY looking for two-stroke oil, not wearing a mask …

There was the OLD LADY in the wheel chair, packing a hidden GLOCK-19 with a 30 round magazine …

There were the CLUMPTON BROTHERS trying to pick up MILFS in the frozen food aisle.

There were others, Birdy didn’t know it yet, but she would.

Donald Trump, who’d been ON THE RUN from JD Vance for 2 weeks, drove his TESLA CYBER TRUCK through the plate glass windows; everyone was stunned.

Trump, who’d been living in the caves and in the sewers, arrived like DARK LIGHTNING from our broken collective unconscious. Birdy didn’t vote, she didn’t care to, but she knew the ORANGE DEMON, what JD called TRUMP.

You see, JD VANCE took power shortly after ARRIVING in WA DC. The whole SWAMP CADRE of ZIONIST FRINGE BOTS and other hooker henchman joined forces with “MR QUESTION MARK”, that’s what people called him. JD took up with KAMALA and other CLAM-FIBER cultists. He moved into a CONDO at the ECCLES BUILDING and henceforth called it the BLIGHT HOUSE. He and Powell shared jizz-magnets and gutter tiramisu.

“Mr. President, where’d you come from?”, Birdy asked.

“I’m out there and it’s HUUUUGE … JD? – what a twirp, he murdered Melanoma and left me to die by the Lincoln Memorial.”

“What you doing here?”

“I was summoned by the COYOTE SPIRIT.”

More cops gathered outside the WALMART, and now the KAREN SQUAD was demanding GOVERNOR BLIBISS bring out the NATIONAL GUARD.

Soon, even the VATICAN was sending its “HOOKER ANGELS”, blessed by old drunk Jesuits and Franciscans, with the power to CONFUSE and DOMINATE utilizing their jumblies.

Birdy hugged TRUMP, she felt his queebous-sweat and smelled his dingy muck soul. She knew the guy was burnt out and filled with cat urine, but she sensed that DONALD wanted redemption and something about this FEBRUARY 12th would bring it forth.

No one knows who fired the first shot …

Some say it was Cally Jorman, a deputy sheriff high on cocaine.

Others believed it was “Karen” Southerland or “Karen” Greene or “Karen” Moskowitz, they just knew some fucking Karen pulled that trigger.

The shot rang out, and everyone was stunned. Birdy grabbed her stomach and Trump could see she was bleeding; he held on to her, as her legs gave out and she crumpled down to the floor.

It felt like hours, but Birdy was gone in a few moments. Trump held her, caressed her hair, as her monkey spirit left her body for the great beyond.

Trump stood up, angrily. A sense of portent and overwhelming HEAVINESS was felt by all.

“TAKE COVER, RETURN FIRE, AIN’T NOTHING LEFT BUT TO DIE!”, screamed Trump.

Bullets began flying, there, at the Bunkton Township WALMART. Nobody knew much about BUNKTON before that day, just a sleepy little town in who knows where the fucks heartland America. The firefight only lasted an hour, but by the time it was over the WALMART was on fire and reinforcements from the SWAMP RATS and GOMBO-FREAKS of Sector-998 (Louisiana) were showing up, riding hippos, and carrying shivs.

Already, the fourth VATICAN DIVISION of SWAMP WHORES had invaded Mississippi, and there were rumors of other GRONGO-FORCES under the command of former president Barack Obama. Battle lines were being drawn, but no one could read a map.

“GET THAT MISSILE LAUNCHER BACK ON THE ROAD!”, yelled COL CLAM, the busty vixen leader of the BOOB-RANGERS and other chicks that ride tigers. She’d been recruited by the VATICAN when she was a young nun, and now her time to SHINE for the POPE had CUM. “GET THAT FUCKING LAUNCHER OUT OF THE SWAMP!”, she hastened her chick squad, as these voluptuous devil dogs rubbed grizzly wax on their vaginas.

Within a few days the VATICAN had taken control of New Jersey, NYC, and Boston. They had shock armies roaming FLORIDA, and several mutant sasquatch chasing women in bikinis in Georgia.

HOOBIE GANGS of thirty-something CROSS-FIT FREAKS began forming their own KLUNGIT-KLANS, chasing tail and looking for “easy going Sunday morning” sex parties.

TRUMP, upon achieving TOTAL VICTORY at the Bunkton WALMART, joined forces with the brave and sexy SHEILA GANGS of Quadrant-2. These were the cast-asides, the throwaways, they kept their souls in CHECK, and their conscience intact, by remembering the wet springtime EVENTS of their lost urban youth. They came from the slums, from DOWNTOWN, from the gritty city chum lots where OLD MEN look for YOUNG BODIES to buy. Trump could tell they were HOT and HANGRY and HEAVY with foolish heart songs.

“You with us Papa Blump?”, asked Queen Irene.

Trump smiled, and shook his head, “girl, I’ve been with you since the first time we met at Mar-a-Lago so many halcyon years ago”. Together, Trump thought, nothing could stop them.

Papa Blump and Queen Irene, like the SCENE from the SCOTTISH PLAY; one day their fire children would RULE the 5 worlds.

But a darkness set in …

It turned out that JD VANCE had cloned TRUMP, using dried JIZZ from that one time they “experimented”. A HORROR, DARK-TRUMP or DRUMP, was out there, chasing down the young and old, feeding them to the GREAT CRUSHER, mixing mite love with angel worm sadness.

THE BATTLES grew harder, as Papa Blump and DRUMP waged war, and JD VANCE watched over this from his SKY CASTLE: a vacuum ship dirigible floating 30 miles above the surface of the Earth.

DRUMP, on orders from JD VANCE, launched an invasion of THAILAND and began injecting men and dogs and cats with a mind control virus: the virus made everyone exposed susceptible to JD VANCE’S MIND RAYS and even the GAYS admitted, when they spitted, that this was GREASIER than El Paso TEXAS.

For OCCUPIED GEORGIA, life was cruel …

Women were rounded up by various BIGFOOT and SASQUATCH gangs. The YETI now RULED the domains surrounding Atlanta, and the swamps were being turned into all female prison zones: and the women, wearing only bikinis, were marched there … those that couldn’t make it were tossed to the gators.

After defeating the 14th LOON division under the command of KAREN STEVENS, Papa Blump moved on to Florida. He and QUEEN IRENE organized the BOOGALOOS and the COLLAPISITARIANS and the 7th Adventists into STRIKE-TEAMS and Blump demanded everyone wear Hawaiian shirts.

It was looking like the good guys might win, that the memory of poor BIRDY would not be forgotten. Blump carried one of her fingers in his pocket, to remind him of her and the bravery she showed at the Bunkton WALMART on 2/12.

One night, after a long days battle, BLUMP SCREAMED OUT TO THE CADRE and the DOG SOLDIERS sleeping on the beaches near TAMPA:

“WE SHALL NEVER FORGET BIRDY! WE WON’T FORGET BUNKTON DAY!”

The mythology of BUNKTON DAY was spreading like wildfire – even the FRENCH were getting annoyed …

Of course: there were VATICAN SPIES everywhere, and BLUMP knew it. He even had to take a few on one of his “fishing trips”, and many a waifish and virginal nun went to her death being eaten by tiger sharks … terrible.

But it wasn’t all pain, this SECOND AMERICAN CIVIL WAR …

Blump and QUEEN IRENE spent several turbulent nights, sultry and salted, near the seashore, making clam chowder.

“Oh baby, I’ve never felt a man like you”, said Irene.

“HONEY BUNCHES OF OATS, I can’t live without you, and I won’t; if you leave me I’ll kill you”, this made Irene smile.

JD VANCE sent the US NAVY SEAL TEAM X-RAY after BLUMP, but he was a few steps ahead, domesticating and training tiger sharks AS BATTLE SHARKS. And even some of the VATICAN’S “ANGELS” switched sides, having gotten really sick of all the KARENS they had to work with. Things were looking up for the SECOND CONFEDERACY, and that’s what BLUMP and IRENE called it.

“This time, we’ll get it right baby”, Irene whispered into Blump’s ear, as he rode that shark into history.

Meanwhile, DRUMP, under orders from JD VANCE, seized ANTARCTICA and the SAFE ZONE. For years, the rich and powerful have been setting up a “safe zone” in Antarctica, capable of housing nearly 3 million people. BLUMP knew about this place, but his forces were stretched too thin, so he asked QUEEN IRENE if she could send her FOXY FOXTROT SQUAD 11, riding polar bears, down there to the South Pole.

Within a few weeks, DRUMP’S forces and Irene’s clashed, and at STOOGIE PASS the brave women of Irene’s forces defeated the robots and CLAMALA’S GENITAL CRAB POSSE.

It was a near thing …

Because DRUMP had an ally in the SOUTH: Barack Obama.

Obama sent his SKLAG WARRIOR PRIESTESSES, armed with DREG-PISTOLS and wearing sports bras.

After many skirmishes, these SKLAGs were laid to rest near McMurdo Base.

The tide was turning, and it looked as if BLUMP and IRENE’S victory would be assured. But then, DRUMP sent an army of NEOCON lobbyists, riding giant mutant Frenchies into the GAMMA ZONE (Las Vegas). BLUMP tried to shift forces, but JD VANCE had sent his IMAGE as dark satanic power orb energy in the form of a Godzilla sized CAT with glowing red eyes.

Some compared the battles around Vegas, with the dust storms and limited vision, to the “Battle of the Wilderness” in 1864. But they were all hooked on meth and had bleeding gums and nobody of stature listened to them.

The SECOND CIVIL WAR lasted nearly 3 years, and over 200 billion people died.

The battles spanned continents, and BLUMP got to spread his seed. Irene was none too happy about his oafish ways, but BLUMP had FIRE SPICE in his loins and a groin encased in dried blood and sores.

At one point, in the second year of WAR, BLUMP and IRENE SPLIT UP and BLUMP began organizing CARNY FOLK as second and third tier JOOG FORCES. Their skeevy ways and cigarette burns and cotton candy affect took the STAGE … and with vile gutter rage they broke through the LINES at St. Louis.

And the BATTLE NUNS that switched sides? – they led the assaults to retake OREGON and WA state. They even invaded CANADA, that was then being ravaged by a killer outbreak of genital crabs, and the battle nuns captured Vancouver Island, and most of British Columbia … for the SyFy channel … so they would be able to shoot outdoor TV SyFy scenes there for free, IN perpetuity … that means FOREVER fucko.

As the SECOND CIVIL WAR WOUND DOWN, BLUMP began flying space patrols near VENUS and MARS and the MOON. Queen Irene and he established MOON BASE ALPHA and put Colonel Koenig in charge of the fission waste dumps there.

GREAT HONORS were bestowed upon BLUMP. His victories numerous, his armies brave and true. He had so many consorts, Asians, black women, Irene, and some Mexicans – so many beautiful and fertile women were offered up to him in tribute. His seed spread, and like Genghis Khan many a child would be born in the future with his stain upon them.

… and …

It’s hard to believe that one young woman, Birdy, and her brave death at the BUNKTON WALMART started it all.

Through the echoes of time, it will be said:

“UPON BUNKTON DAY we stand, as Birdy once did, in her cut-off jorts and her Xavier-Type BLOOTON rifle”, said BLUMP on BUNKTON DAY, 2/12, 202X.

SO GO OUT THERE GRINKEN MAN.

FIND YOURSELF A GRINKEN WOAH-MAN like BIRDY …

Hustle and bustle your way, stroking your steam pipe, and fill her caverns with chowder gravy and Old Navy loving.

Give her a BUNCTOUS BABY … fill her with your white gravy.

And when the baby is born, if it’s a girl: name her Birdy.