“Have the Israelis killed all the Martian invaders yet?” – Dr. Freckles
Empire …
A simple process for douches who want to steal shit:
- find a country that has shit you want
- install shit head as LEADER
- let it boil for 5 to 10 years
- Declare shit head “evil” and invade
(rinse and repeat)
HOBLIMPTOCK
“I’ve talked about BOBLIMPTOCK, but not HOBLIMPTOCK.” – Dr. Freckles
IT at work …
The IT software / firewall at work classifies my blog, this blog, as porn …
If it is porn? – it’s a strange porn.
A porn for strangers …
A table set for strangers to feel less alone.
People like me …
“When people like me stop getting cancelled? – you should probably get worried.” – Dr. Freckles
Sheep dipping …
- What is it?
- What is it today?
- Does it require consent or knowing participation?
The laundromat …
“The laundromat is like a casino that is more peaceful and less disappointing.” – Dr. Freckles
(bonus: you get to hear the cling-cling-cling of the change machine, and it’s like a slot machine paying out)
Fermented semen …
“Vagina beer, fermented semen, you see where this is headed?” – Dr. Freckles
Knowing what’s going on …
“If you can think beyond politics and voting, you have a chance at understanding what’s actually going on; but even then, everyday people will never know for sure.” – Dr. Freckles
In the future …
In the future …
The “CALIFORNIA DREAMING” video will be seen as naïve bright-siding utopian bullshit.
In the future …
Swamp masters, herding their hooker women, will lurk in the regions EAST of New York City. They will harvest sewage crab and live off of the snail greases and the lost virgin patties. It will be hard, but their names will be THROG and GRYG and TOOLLS … and they will be feared. In the future.
In the future …
The dancing nurses will be found, along with DB COOPER and the cause of the WTC-7 collapse … all found … all verified. Sure, you’ll use these secret papers to keep yourself warm, and you’ll burn the plastic coverings too … as you cower in your cave, on the run from the HIGLIN-CREW and the other droogs hanging near the Ivory Sands of Tyl … and still their hearts will be warn and yellow. In the future.
IN THE FUTURE …
The bullet will be gold and gold will be power. Heinous derby riders, shooting horses for taco meat, will be chased out of Florida and find refuge in the storm drains of Dallas. The underground world, covered in mold and slime, becomes their empire of madness and the LOST ONES are forgotten, as their bones turn to dust. In the future.
Way off in the future …
People will live on MARS … they’ll have fancy cars and martinis at bars … they will ski Olympus Mons, and hangout with ROBOT-ELON-MUSK – carbon unit Musk will be dead by then, died in a TESLA accident. Many will come to his funeral, dressed in steel and suede, wondering and wandering the cemetery, finding only reflections of their own monkey failure … in the future.