Thursday was a royally fucked up day in so many ways, and also a day of affirmation – and this is why I sometimes shake my fist at God …
(but at least I’m not LUKEWARM)
Because I also helped some kids on Thursday, as much in terms of tutoring, maybe more mentoring and listening – and I think I helped, I had a kid come up to me and thank me for his grade on his paper I proof read, that’s affirmation, something like that.
And I think of that dumbass Kevin Costner dystopia flick from the 90’s, “The Postman”, and I want to fucking wring someone’s neck … really. Not really.
Think about Spock, and that time he killed Admiral Adama to save ET’s life – because he wanted to fuck Jodie Foster … think about that.
Somehow a package being sent to me was rerouted, back to it’s destination – but as the “postman” provided me his explanation, I sensed a kind of DMV License Lady vibe … he liked it … he liked that my day now sucked.
It’s okay – I tell you “shit doesn’t work”, and don’t fly too high off the ground … but today I was at 200 feet
… and that’s plenty high to break your neck.
So yeah … FUCK YOU POST MAN!
(fuck all of you, dumbasses)
Do I hate the USPS? – no.
It would be like hating some poisonous crab – pointless, it has not the understanding to take rebuke. Hate is wasted.
But I see in this world, more and more, the “cracks” – and I would be lying if I said the “USPS Package Incident” of today was the only “crack” – there have been many I’ve observed, in recent weeks.
As much as they carpet bomb the third eye, a lot of people’s alarms are going off.
(and it’s not the covid)
(and it’s not the “reset”)
(and as bad as it may become in the near future? – it’s not the end of the world)
The domain = {-6, 0} represents your pain threshold for percocet babies …
The variable “j” is a measure of your tolerance for the band CREED.
This function defines the SIZE of your “MAN ROD” as it relates to TOTAL CUBBY POUNDING as f(j) approaches infinity … shit’s getting real mud-orchid.
I heard Skanty’s Bloob Army is attacking Grinken Town next week – and there might be lesbian sky navies involved … flying in their vacuum battleships, 20 miles up … pushed along by ion drives, and trading fire with rapid shooting rail guns … all happening 20 miles up.
How do the SKY LESBIAN NAVIE reproduce?
The insert-o-tron: a double sided dildo, with ribs for her pleasure, pulls an egg from both women and combines them to produce a new lesbian, that looks like Pam Grier or Scarlett Johannsson … who carries the dildo baby? – the insert-o-tron randomly chooses. Which means there’s a tiny monkey inside that flips a tiny coin. I call him Schrodinger’s Monkey …
“onion stuffing” is a euphemism among millennials … it means putting onions in your butt and in your boovula if it applies … while making love …
They love it, the millennials.
It’s not the end of the world: is the point though
And people can, in adversity, become better, wiser, perhaps even FREER. But it takes courage, and some willingness to have empathy and a desire to live in peace with your neighbors – and to trade, and live. It takes many small acts of trust and bravery – and it’s hard to see any of that right now.
But not impossible.
Here’s another thing before I end this RANT about the postal services: do we have a “resource issue” on planet Earth, or do we really have a lack of wisdom?
Because a wise society must be free – it’s not a “privilege” it’s simply how it can be optimal. It’s humans find FIT with their ecosystem – it’s called liberty. And you have to have some wisdom to see this.
So do we lack resources or do we lack wisdom?
the ape people and gog people are no joke
the ape people and gog-folk of region-PRUNE.
if they came? – they’d have you in their whisper grasp, and your guzzles would freeze up and yield scale milk.
Sure, you think you’re “sizzle puss”, but in reality you’re dumpster hooker looking to fuck somebody up.
I was outside my camper just now, and I heard some shit in the brush behind me, in the dark … and I had that weird “hairs standing up” on the back of my head bullshit.
It seemed like a predator was in the brush behind me.
Or … I took that 100MG of soda from the happy store.
I will say this again, as I have before:
My “alarm” is going off.
Like it did in September 2019, and I have podcasts to prove it.
And I’d say the “brief intermission” is almost over.
(and the the MAIN ACT, FINAL ACT, COMMENCES …)
It will dazzle you, in an uncool way.
But it still isn’t the END of the WORLD.
Big shit is coming, alarms are going off.
Don’t be ashamed to admit, I know I’m not the only one that feels it.
Not the END of the WORLD, but crazy ass shit is coming.
(way bigger than any PSYOP breadbox thus far)
And could it be another PENULTIMATE PSYOP, rather than a real catastrophe?
Why not …
Why not “Blue Beam”.
I predict the coming of ROUND MEAL factories … outside of town … all the gumptus and old corn syrup and noodles will be placed in a vat, into which are DUMPED the “unviables” … the scoob-folk … the old and the sick … the angry and homeless … all go in the ROUND MEAL VAT …
ROUND MEAL KINGS will surround your homes and farms. They will play METALLICA all night long, as you wait behind your door – fully loaded mags, cowering, shivering in the night …
You’ll eat your last can of chili, as the DOG WARRIORS come by and bring their pillow cases filled with d-cell batteries …
The ROUND MEAL will be frozen solid, then launched at all the hoi polloi using a giant electrified and robotic TREBUCHET, with a range of 3 miles … you live within RANGE? – you get a ROUND MEAL chucked at you … for savings …
And this gets back to that FUCKING POSTMAN … and the bullshit about my package. And how MAYBE there’s some strange hand of God in all this … His plan, stuff like hat. Maybe.
But that fucking Kevin Costner bullshit pisses me off, and he can go dancing with wolves for all I care. Big mean scary ones, like in that Liam Neeson movie about wolves and other camper life bullshit …
I can’t blame the USPS for all my woes.
Also – I’m not a prophet.
I’m simply speaking in terms of intuition, when I say “alarm”.
Also – I’m around teenagers a fair amount because of my tutoring job, and they transmit a lot of the general state of the collective unconscious, they can’t help it.
“STAR SHIP JESUS”
I talked about him in a podcast in 2021.
That would be some “Blue Beam” Antichrist bullshit.
He’d probably look like David Bowie.
So no, not super dooper happy about the USPS.
But I get tomorrow off, and maybe there’s not a cougar stalking me … small blessings.
My life ain’t so bad – and I have the wisdom to know there are far deeper levels of desperation.
I’m doing pretty well. FUCK the USPS.
What if I build my time machine, out of old corollas and log splitters?
what then brethren …
shall I be a king in old England, selling AK-47’s to some, subduing others … ?
these are questions for time travelers and gods
but totally fuck you post man or postman … fuck if I care about the spelling, you sure as shit don’t care about my package
This time of year in WA state: you are born in darkness, you die in darkness.
I was one of MANY who had their “alarms” go off in 2019.
I am one of many who feel hat right now.
Before I get eaten by a cougar or a bear.
So I think I figured out just now, outside, that leaves falling and some raindrops … and maybe some fucking deer … caused me to believe I was going to be eaten …
And maybe that 100MG drinky-poo ….
But yeah – my precious cargo could be caught in a phantom zone of the USPS. Some worker might have absconded with it, who knows what happens in a neo-Stalinist hell hole.
My Volcano (Storz and Bickel) and other accoutrement was in it – precious cargo, sad, sad loss.
I know I sound like hat JRR Tolkien troll Schmeegle or whatever the fuck he was called .. ask me if I fucking care …
But I care about that Volcano. Terrible loss.
This whole rant is really about building a time machine, to save the fucking Volcano.
This Thanksgiving you’ll have turtle and snake casserole, and you’ll be grateful …
Giving into that camper lifestyle is like sitting outside your spot at night, lurking in a folding chair, smoking a cigarette and staring bleakly, angrily, at any stranger who should come by …
“Hey mud child, did you get lost little mouse?”
Remember when R2D2 saved the 6 Million Dollar man from Michael Myers?
(that was awesome)
Fucking postman.
Jonah and his weed plant – it explains so much.
They should have a machine that scans your brain for the kind of NUTS and BOLTS you need …
And then a laser targeting air cannon shoots the NUT or BOLT into your flesh … and you pay for it …
And then pluck the NUTS and BOLTS from your flesh when you’re ready to use them.
FUCK YOU POSTMAN! FUCK YOU KEVIN COSTNER!