“The most Anti-Semitic force in the world today is the modern State of Israel.” – Dr. Freckles
My brain rejecting films …
“My brain rejects John Hughes’ movies for the same reason my brain rejects WAR FILMS.” – Dr. Freckles
Hockey …
“Doesn’t a dude having his throat slit by a skate make hockey MORE cool?” – Dr. Freckles
ROBOT KILLS MAN
All people agree …
All people are becoming more hateful of WOMEN and their female confusion.
The GRAND WAR of the BOOTY ZONE is why …
All people are breaking down into SHAME-TRIBES, with the goal of isolating those parts of women-folk that suck the most, and replacing those parts with cigarette butts and stale beer.
WOMEN are to be re-engineered as YOOB-RINDS, made of cat fur and long lost deer carcasses …
And their minds will be dental floss and nail polish remover …
All people agree about this.
I think a lot of nice people agree that we have to harvest old people as taco meat and for chili and curry …
We can come up with all kinds of woolly-headed reasons for NOT grinding up people over 60 into meat patties … but aren’t you tired of the division and the woke politics?
So get to it … start chopping.
Most people agree we should breed panthers, armed with neck mounted 9 mm gatling guns … to patrol our streets man …
They can feed on the homeless and German tourists …
A lot of people think this would be a good idea …
I would name my first boy Klaarg … and my first daughter Ferocia …
People are generally consistent with regards to …
I think I’m going to call my next girlfriend “puddle flower” …
(see how long that relationship lasts)
People ponder this …
Some of you are klez-realm jergers, whereas others are festering weasel-bats and their minds are filled with jerpies …
That’s what makes you special, and why we love you.
Some believe …
Some people think they know the truth, and they tell it to you. But these people …
These people might be dimensional travelers or bigfoot or moth men … they might be shadow people, living in the cracks … the crevices …
There might be a shadow person living in your woman’s hole.
And many agree on this.
John Hughes’ movies were really part of MK-ULTRA …
“GIVE ME SOME FUCKING FOOD!”
The worst part about watching a video like this isn’t the schadenfreude … it’s the realization that this is NOTHING compared to what’s coming …
The Rick Grimes of Captain Kirks …
“Charles Ingalls is the Rick Grimes of Captain Kirks.” – Dr. Freckles
Chasing waterfalls …
“Don’t go chasing waterfalls … WHO THE FUCK CHASES WATERFALLS?” – Dr. Freckles
Maintenance …
“Something that ordinary people wouldn’t maintain voluntarily, should never have been built in the first place.” – Dr. Freckles
All I want for Christmas …
“All I want for Christmas is POO … that’s what the Mariah Carey CHRISTMAS SONG sounds like to me now.” – Dr. Freckles
Generation Boblimptock! (born since 2019)
“I’m calling it: every child born since 2019 is GENERATION BOBLIMPTOCK – their minds will be filled with razor blades, their fists caked in blood.” – Dr. Freckles
FUCK YOU POST MAN
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!
Gandalf … (revisited)
“Gandalf IS the HITLER … you get that right?” – Dr. Freckles
Bilbo’s .357 MAGNUM (REDHAWK)
“If Bilbo owned a .357 magnum that day Gandalf showed up? – things would have turned out differently.” – Dr. Freckles
Facing the TSUNAMI
“If you are standing on a beach and you see a MASSIVE tsunami coming towards you, you can run … you can walk towards it, solemnly – or YOU CAN STAND THERE, AND LAUGH AT IT! These are your choices.” – Dr. Freckles
“Shelter in Place”
“shelter in place” == “lockdown” == “house arrest”
My TED TALK is over.
A good cop …
A good cop …
A GOOD COP would turn in his partner if his partner is breaking the law.
A GOOD COP would not be afraid if qualified immunity were removed.
A GOOD COP would live to a HIGHER STANDARD, not a lower one …
TELL ME ABOUT ALL THE GOOD FUCKING COPS!
“Good cops” are being trained by “experts” from Israel.
(same experts that got punk’d by paragliders)
Peaceful protests … (in traffic)
If you were “peacefully” protesting and blocking me from driving someone I care about to the emergency room? – I’d run you over.
If you were “peacefully” protesting, and threatening vehicles ahead of me? – Dragging people out of their cars? – yeah, I’d run you over.
Living on Liar’s Island
For those who took freshman philosophy or Logic 101 in college:
“When you live on Liar’s Island, there is only one thing you know is TRUE: GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!” – Dr. Freckles
If you can’t kill Bigfoot …
“If you can’t kill Bigfoot, then what good is he/she?” – Dr. Freckles
CRINKLE-CREVICES …
Your crevice brings pain …
Dingle-berry super heroes line up their SITES to find your CRINKLE-ZONE, and you hide it, even in those YOGA PANTS you wear to STARBUCKS. We see the oils, and the drips, we can sense your baby clock is reading HIGH NOON and it’s high time you had some Spluncton style snake magic.
Snake magic is a special kind of GOOF. You won’t know your own sploof-fig after the rine has been removed and the seagrass blooms. Your HERO SLAVE is done setting up the chains in the woodshed, and your missile-jackson style lover is waiting in the shower, for some “Kelly Clarkson” style love dancing.
I could hold on to your crinkle zone, bearing upon it the great weight of my lead pipe. But your heart is too free pretty bird, and your mind is fit for apes.
My own sklebick-energy could not compare to your HOLE SPECTACLE … Your power juice weaved its ways into my broken hear, and sealed the cracks, releasing CREVICE SORCERY and anal magic.
I could have been a master of THROG-DOORS …
But your whorish ways led me astray, and I found nothing but pills and swamps and lost cowboy fondlers, wanting back into your pants … your crevice gold.
Cantor?
With your infinite sets?
I don’t need your pseudo mathematical bullshit, when here grease river flows, like turtle gravy – and there’s no HOE STOP for granny town types and hicksters from Memphis.
MARK MY WORDS: your hole is for the skeeg-mice.
Puddle flower …
Your purple eyes spoke volumes, as your body sunk beneath the surface of those love-oils. You would take your luxurious bath, as the swans sang songs of bad ice. And NOWHERE is your lover SWAYNE … and nowhere is his herpes.
Most of you are mungit beasts, you will feed upon tripe with the ghost priests.