R.O.T.A.B. is even MORE POWERFUL with SEAFLOW!

THIS IS A WAR ACTION ALERT MESSAGE!

ALL TROGLON TYPE BERGER-ZEEDS NEED TO BE READY FOR THE FINAL ASSAULT. WE'VE TAKEN 4 ISLANDS EAST OF HAWAII AND NOW INTEND TO LAUNCH A FULL FRONTAL LUNGE AT WESTERN SUMERIA WITH AN EYE TO OVERTURNING THE ASSYRIAN EMPIRE AND THE LAST LORDS OF FROLIC.

TEGOS-REE, THE ADMIRAL OF THE CENTRAL SEA, IS TAKING OUT SUBMARINE NETWORKS IN TASMANIA AND SOUTHERN DETROIT. NORD-STYLE BURGER BUCKETS ARE HUSTLING BEAN-DROPPINGS TO THE DUSTER FREAKS IN SECTOR 44 AND REGION OCTOBER. A MISSILE LAUNCH WAS DETECTED AMONG THE WHORE KEEPERS AND THE STREET WALKERS ARE SELLING SPECIAL-K TO THE COPS AND FEDS FROM FRESNO.

YOU ARE NOT SAFE!

YOU ARE NOT SAFE IN YOUR HONEYDEW MELON PARADISE!

YOUR FOOD IS NOT SAFE, IT IS FILLED WITH JASMINE-MAGGOTS AND OTHER SLIME-TICKS.

YOUR MIND IS NOT SAFE, IT IS CONCERNED WITH BIRTHDAY PARTY MINUTIA AND FAVORITE SONG BLISS TIED TO A LATE SPRING SUNSET SPICE RACK.

WHEN THE TIME COMES, BE READY TO ABANDON YOUR HEADQUARTERS AND DELETE ALL MESSAGES FROM SHEILA ... SHE'S A BITCH AND SHE'S STALKING YOU ... SO STOP IT. STOP IT NOW. SHEILA CANNOT BE TRUSTED, HER EYES ARE GREEN AND SPECKLED AND HER HEART IS IRON AND CABBAGE.

FOR THE TIME BEING ...

ALL CONDOMS AND TOILET PAPER WILL BE REUSED AND RECYCLED.

WE WILL CONSERVE OUR PRECIOUS MOISTURE AND YIELD ONLY THE COMMON STOCK FOR THE SWILL-BREEDERS IN THE CAVES OF HOUSTON. PARTY FAVOR JUGGLERS AND CLEVELAND WIZARDS SELL THEIR MAN-GOO TO THE RAIDERS IN SECTOR-2. NEVER BEFORE HAVE SO MANY GUZZLERS OF HERG-PASTE BEEN BROUGHT TOGETHER FOR A VICTORY WITHOUT PRECEDENT OR PAST.

THIS WAR MESSAGE IS FOR THE STRONG BODIES ...

MINDS CLEAR OF INFECTION OR FATE.

YOUR MIND-BODY PROBLEM IS ONE OF REGRET AND TRAUMA-FORECLOSURE.

YOUR MIND-SELF IS DISTORTED AND THE RADAR SYSTEMS IN CENTRAL KRASNOVIA ARE NO LONGER OPERABLE BECAUSE RED-DRAGON MISSILE RIDERS HAVE LOST ALL HOPE AND THE NYMPHO MISTRESS IS LONGING FOR STD RIDDEN JEDI LIVING ALONE IN THE DESERTS OF MEMORY.

THIS WAR MESSAGE IS FOR THE FALLEN.

THOSE GHOSTS THAT WRESTLE WITH CAUSALITY AND MAKE WAY FOR SMALLER LEGIONS OF TINY SOLDIERS MADE OF PUDDING.

INDIAN CALL CENTERS ARE STANDING BY TO HELP YOU WITH MEDICARE PARTS A AND B, AND NEW LIFE EXTENSION FINAL PLAN DEALS WHERE YOUR BODY PARTS CAN BE MARINATED IN DEAD MONKEY SAUCE AND THEN TOSSED INTO THE GANGES WHERE PRIESTS AND NUNS WILL POOP OUT THEIR VIGOR AND LEAVE YOUR NON-SELF IDENTITY TRAPPED IN A SMOG JAIL.

YOUR MOMS ARE WITH ME ... ALL OF THEM.

YOUR MOMS ARE MY HOOKER DREAM MAKERS.

THEY CARRY BATS AND CHAIN AND ROGAINE DART GUNS.

THEY ARE POWERED BY THE INFERNAL CAGE-RAGE OF NIGHTMARE PROPORTIONS.

DRIED AND EMPTY, YOUR MOMS WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEIR HOOKER KING ... WHICH IS ME.

DENMARK IS SO OVER, IT'S BASIC ...

DENMARK IS BASIC.

DANISH FOOD IS BASIC.

DANISH DIALECT IS SLOW AND SMELLY AND BASIC.

YOU CAN SMELL THE REEF TORRENT COMING FROM A DANE'S MOUTH, IT IS BILE VENGEANCE AND SHIT THROAT CATACLYSM.

HERRING STORES ARE DROPPING AND THE COPENHAGEN SKETCH MARKET IS HOPPING WITH NOODLE CHALLENGES AND OLD FART FERRET RUSTLERS.

IT WILL ALL BE OVER WHEN DENMARK SINKS.

SEA-FLOW STYLE FROZEN BUTT PLUGS MAKE ALL OF THIS POSSIBLE. THIS SUMMER, FROZEN BUTT PLUGS WILL BE HUGE AMONG THE BOOMERS AND ZOOMERS, SITTING AT HOME, DRAGGING THEIR ASS MERCHANTS TO WALMART FOR THE FOOD SALE.

HOT TOPIC PROPHECY SPELLS DOOM FOR THE LAST OF THOSE OLD HAGS, AND THE CRONES ARE CAUGHT MALL WALKING WITH HORSEMEN AND ARCHERS.

BUILD A WALL AROUND YOUR HEART AND A MOAT AND FILL THE MOAT WITH SHARKS AND LAMPREY.

MAKE A HOME FOR THE SOUL PAIN, THIS IS BATTLE AND THE RATTLE OF BARS WILL HIGHLIGHT THE CRYSTAL SPILLWAY AND LEAVE YOU BARREN BEFORE BETSY THE BRA SALESMAN.

YOUR TENDER HEART WILL SPLIT WIDE OPEN WHEN YOU SEE THE BUSTED MASSES FLEEING THIS TENSE STANDOFF. HUNGRY HORDES ARE HOARDING WHORE JELLO AND THE LAST OF THE RESUPPLICANT PIMP CREW ARE CREATED ANEW BEFORE THE DYING SUNLIGHT. SMOKE RISES FROM THE BATTLE AS THE FIRES OF TORMENT BURN BLUE.

SPIDER EGG JELLY IS THE KEY TO VICTORY!

OUR MORGUE LEADERS ARE KILLING IT WITH SEAFLOW STYLE SPIDER EGG JELLY SOUP RECIPES AND TENDER VITTLE STYLE MEAT RESIDUE.

TIME TO ACCEPT THE END AS THE BEGINNING AND THE SEAFLOW LOVE SONG CARRIES THE DAY, AS THE BONG IS PASSED AND THE HOURS DECAY.

ALL HAIL THE KNIFE JUDGE.

THIS IS YOUR ALERT ACTION WAR MESSAGE.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER.

AND FUCK YOU.

“20 RIBEYES for 40 BUCKS …”

"20 RIBEYES for 40 BUCKS!"
screeched the meat monger
from the back of his truck

GERMAN SHIPPERS
hip hop slippers
place your kippers
in the basket
flippers will lose
their shoes
and nothing remains

Insane ARAB PRIESTS
MAGICIANS and SPRITES
fall by the side
in the night
no one saw them
say goodbye
on their way
to the weekly fry
don't look
at the tattoo
on the steak

NAVAL goo-stew
the home brew
for the TROOPS
for the scoops
and we can
RAISE THE FLAG
it's a gag
as marines eat
flea soup
in the heat

Don't look for
the tattoo
it's there
barely in sight
what a FRIGHT
it shall be
when NEIGHBOR TOM
stops BY
with hungry kids
and wife crying
and baby dying
of hunger and thirst
they'll see
your tattoo
and they won't care
they'll just bear it
and eat

twenty ribeye steaks
for the makings
and potato pie
with peas and carrots
and a salad
in the rear view
mirror ...

Don't look
for the tattoo
on the steak

INCEST BABY

MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20260425_INCEST_BABY.mp3

INCEST BABY:

A tawdry little muggle-wrap, filled with spruce nog and syphilitic tumor sauce. His eyes gleamed, some of his dad, some of his sister-mom, and Melania looked on. Doctors CHEERED at the fertility clinic, and carried the sponge ball - it seems a surrogate to a sister-mom's kid and a brother-son's brisk.

Cursed and shaking, the little baby broke wind and a grin came across his sister-mom's face. "WHAT GRACE this baby has!", cheered "mother", as her glass emptied the maid poured another. And the ORANGE BANDITO smiled at his tree-trunk child, leering deeply into his own shame but not holding, or scolding, or folding his arms. He's the proud dad of a brother-son, sister-mom, and other assorted mutants crawling from his gird pipe.

LITTLE BARRON SPOKE the words of SANHEDRIN RELICS and CABBALISTIC echoes, he was made for narrow trees, few branches, too suckling and weak to exist on his own. He'll call his sister-mom on the phone, when he's alone and scared and pops is topping off the cocaine jar. "Mom" would get drunk and fuck the secret service guy, the one with the big cock. Sister-mom would tell her test-tube brother-son to remember the "family grit" and keep up that smiling chug-face and never give into the wretched sadness of peering into the mirror.

He's now so much older, and the words of incest are hidden in EPSTEIN CLOUDS and if the world knew? - well, look at that scrogan-beast ... the world knows, as if from some Lovecraftian tale of OLD FAMILIES and LITTLE NEW BLOOD. A flood of sky burglars awaits and the freight is guarded by banshee kites and frightened gold traders from the tunnels in Brooklyn.

8 OR 9 FEET TALL, all cartilage and grizzle, fearful and broken, an unspoken idea too obvious for most to ignore. A whorish "mom", drinking herself to sleep as a FIRST LADY FUCK FEST FORMS in her lady's room at 10 PM, even the female agents show up.

And sister-mom fucks a cushy guy with a pushy aspect, sent to spread peas and turnips and other kosher delights.

Go to sleep poor little muggle-wrap, your ways are ahead.

Only a creature as precious and tall as you can transcend the STAIN and gain some stature as a walnut STALLION ... licking toad blood and promoting SEA-FLOW style frozen Rabbi Shmuley type butt plugs.

Rest silently puddle flower ... your secret is safe with me.

Historians will wrest from the warehouse of TIME your slime dowry and Princess Scruffins, your first cousin, will blend her narrow tree pus with yours - and that next generation will have two rows of teeth and will be 20 feet tall and feed upon the hope of the weak and the innocent.

No one can stop PAPA BLUMP and his legion.

The children will bear the mark for all time.

ZERO HEDGE IZVESTIA STYLE BUTT-TRASH HEADLINES (the best we got): https://zerohedge.com

CULTURE CLUB: https://www.mercurynews.com/2026/04/23/barron-trump-cultural-appropriation-yerba-mate/

MELANOMA: https://www.thedailybeast.com/podcasters-reveal-why-melania-opened-epstein-can-of-worms/

GTFO of the CITIES: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=27527

GRAY WHALES: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=27521

HHE SCENARIO RELOCATION MAP: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=27505

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=27492

How far do you live from a nuclear reactor: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=27483

It’s hard to SECRETLY geoengineer in a war zone: https://www.timesnownews.com/world/middle-east/iran-rain-waterfall-snowing-us-israel-uae-weather-control-us-radar-destroyed-article-154162428

CHOW: https://www.unilad.com/news/us-news/us-navy-war-iran-updates-food-shortages-708134-20260420

REPUBLIC of TIGERS and BEARS!

Might we be BRAVE ENOUGH to found it?

It's gone bad
no time is left
for regret
for the bereft

I bet
if you looked about
you could see the frame
the box
the walnut sofa duplex
filled with silicon phantasms
kids playing too damn much
with video game consoles
while providing no consolation

Murder
mayhem
laziness
an inconsistent
death watch

We can change
rearrange the messaging
the medium can morph
and dwarf
a reticent soul
not boiled or ready
but steady
for ideas
for society
for sobriety
and our world
twirled
down the road
goading the mass
and the tigers roam
and the bear looks on

We can build complexes
metroplex zoo zones
we fill the streets
the malls
the schools
with wild bears and tigers

Humans
no longer fearful
not filled with trepidation
will grasp their hearts
and the start
the breath
the pouncing death
frees our lukewarm spirits
once again

Bears will give chase
and youth with mace
and sword
will battle these beasts
in the streets
and from this will be born
that forlorn next GEN
unwilling to stare
blankly
darkly
at the glowing rectangle again

Tigers ...

Tigers chasing down
the old
the weak
the bleak
the weary
a tragic end indeed
but so much worse than:
cancer
diabetes
hear disease
suicide
homicide
genocide
nuclear war
stripper soup
all of it
melting away
with the angst and dust
so we must
release the tiger
and let that furry beast
have its day

A new republic
from blood and ash
stands taller
braver
ready for any kind of thrash

The last is tossed
the boss is done
the liberty expands
in our tiger-bear lands

Our flag is a bear
and a tiger
tearing an eagle in half
and the parts
no longer sleek
and smart
and nice
are dripping
oozing
to the margins
with no means
no care
a tiger and a bear
still aware
of the blood and dice

It's not bad
for grandpa
and uncle
and dad

It's gone well
for mother
and brother
and CHAD

It's better now
as the sow eats the man
and the tiger
hiding in the woods nearby
stalks some poor family
some meek spirit
and consumes the fear
out of place
a clever device
to save the human race

To save them all
To save the EARTH
To save FREEDOM

A republic of tigers and bears

“ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN”

It happened once
here and all
quite a fall
from the empty place
a murmur heard:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"

It happened once
no time was left
we are bereft
from that grace
staggering onward
fleeing space
a darkness calls
and states:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"

Once it was here
bullshit fears
a mind awoke
and then dead
turns red
phase shift
total rift
and you hear that voice:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN!"

There was ever
only
one creation
attempted birth
for what it's worth
aborted on arrival
a consciousness spurned
a tired soul burns
the waste heat leaves
and failure resides
nothingness rules the rest
and at that spot
upon a cot
an old man sits
with dented pride
a voice inside:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"

TAKE A DEEP BREATH

Take a deep breath
with a little grunt
squat down to punt
the heart shunt
to the street

Take a deep breath
breathe in and out
don't pout
don't be a lout
make sure you shout
your favorite line
you will shine
valentine
death

Take another breath
and the rest
will shrink
like violet stink
your halitosis shines
they don't mind
they won't say
it's all okay
as long as
you are breathing

Open your mouth
suck that air in
in the thin night
bearing fright
carrying that sight
seeing those ghosts
your heart pounds
to every sound
make sure
you hit the ground
when the klaxon sings
and the black clad spring
with fire eye fury
don't be in a hurry
take a fucking breath

BLOW OUT WITH VIGOR!

EXHALE YOUR PAIN!

REGAIN YOUR CENTER!

But as you breathe
be relieved
that every pant
not small or scant
brings a new chance
a trip to France
a seance journey
to a ghost
torrid rants
and the specter speaks:

"At least you can breathe."

WHEN THE STATE FAILS (an ancient tale)

When the building
is aflame
find some poor folks
to blame

If the poors
scream out loud
if the poors
get in a bad mood
take away their food

When the treasury
is depleted
the poors will find
they've been cheated

If the war
goes on too long
the powerful state
will commission a song
of POWER and FIRE
of BRAVERY and MIGHT
and they will
make the poors listen
day and night

Nero dances
Stalin prances
Hitler shines
in ballroom shoes
Queens and princes
Kings and kooks
every fluke
each mistake
find some poor soul
scapegoat
don't gloat
drink your brew
if you're poor
they're coming for you

The building is on fire
the barbarians are at the gate
the hate filled skies
forever lies
evil desire
and a wood chipper ready
preparing the way
every day
poor soul tossed away
and the state smiles
as the parasites run
and go start another one
just for fun
down the street

It's so neat
a NEWER BUILDING
for all to see
for all to pay
because one day
this building
will burn as well
and time will tell
a forever hell
the story is complete

How many times have we won the war already?

Once again
we've won the war,
sterile words
for keeping score.

A crazy man
screaming into the night
running from the fight
while he was young,
but now he calls
on new flowers and leaves
to grab their guns
and come have fun
killing someone
they'll never see.

Moms and dads
wave goodbye
as MAGA cheers
block the sun,
Soldiers strong
breathe a sigh
into this storm
"we've been slung".

Bodies arrive
letters are sent
excuses abound
as to why
they are bent,
burnt ash black and red
white skin dread
absent of sound.

For finally
it is quiet
for the soldier
and his fam,
and the old
orange king
plans his final
GRAND SLAM!

"THE WAR
is now over"
the mad mango yells,
"we've won the war
once again"
the shaking hands
tell.

And again
we win again
victory every
single day,
in the shadows
as generals play
the soldiers die
are left behind
in the streets
in the hospitals
and with grand
memory
we shall forget
once more
even though
the spray-tanned whore sings
we know
they know
that we've not won
anything.

BOYS’ LIFE: hovercraft

YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
YOU CAN RIDE THIS AIR CAR,
around your HOME ...
around your school ...

It floats on air,
powered by a vacuum cleaner ...

It floats on air,
powered by an electric motor ...

This technology
arrives very soon,
and when it does
watch the BOOM.

A revolutionary skit,
childhood dreams pitted against
a fuse,
a phantom,
an idea that was LIT.

If it needed electric power?
Or some kind of magical SPRITE?
They'd tell you, right?
They'd include those words, amazing.

Only TURDS would lie
to those innocent cheeks
cleaving to deception
as things get bleak.

Infinite energy drive,
what a time to be alive.

IT LIFTS 200 POUNDS!
THIS FUCKER LIFTS 200 POUNDS!

Or perhaps,
like the BRITS,
clever lawyers like to split,
words and clauses,
serve their bosses,
telling you truth:

"You want to build
this thing?
You're going to need bling ...
You'll need to steal
200 BRITISH POUNDS STERLING ..."

That's HUNDREDS of DOLLARS today ...
Thousands ...
Sure BUCK,
you can have a hovercraft
it won't suck,
go and build it
you miserable fuck.

You will fly around,
all over town,
your woman will wear a gown,
the old men will frown ...

IT'S YOUR BOYS' LIFE HOVERCRAFT!
It's your key to future bliss!
This one time offer so surprising,
you don't dare miss.

For PLANS AND PHOTOS?
- send $4.95 ...
For love and HEROES,
give us your coin.
Your loins will flare,
you'll kill a bear,
your daddy WILL SWEAR
to never take the ATARI away ...

PITFALL PETE.
PITFALL PETE.
STRUGGLE SO SWEET.
IN A JUNGLE SO WET.
You can bet mother fucker,
good old Pete,
wished he had a hovercraft,
to beat bricks back home,
to beat his meat.

You can float on air.
It lifts 200 pounds.
They'll never hear a sound,
when you sneak up on
their BOY'S LIFE LIES.

The skies turn dark,
but you still have time,
for plans and photos,
send four ninety five.

FREE INVENTORS CALENDAR!
It's fun.
It's free.
With order ...

Low COST,
EASY TO BUILD,
YOU CAN'T BE KILLED,
YOU WON'T BE DESTROYED,
YOUR LIFE WILL IMPROVE,
one day you'll find
YOUR GROOVE ...
Am I right Pete?

You still swinging Pete?

You still alive?

Or do you live
with UNCLE CLIVE,
in HELL ...

Does that ring a bell?

We're going to Hell.

YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
cremate your care,
your BOYS' LIFE gone.

With that wind,
abandon like fire,
those dread sins,
that die with
the liar.

ANTARCTIC POLAR BEAR!

BUY THE T-SHIRT: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=20503

Where have you been
Antarctic polar bear?
Where have you gone?
You've been gone
so very long ... yeah, yeah.

Where have you been you rascal polar bear?

The orca and the penguin
are your friends.
Orca and penguin,
are friends to the bitter end, oh boy,
Where are you hiding you fucking polar bear?

You lived outside,
never telling a single lie,
you lived quite free,
eating fruit from
the coconut tree,
your heart is pure,
you live that eternal dance,
your mind is cured,
but PANDA EXPRESS ...

When I was a kid,
they had this place,
OLD STYLE PANDA EXPRESS ...

They served REAL PANDA.
They served it REAL fast.
They knew it wouldn't last.
They were haunted by their past ...

Mongolian panda ...

General Tso's Panda ...

Sweet and sour panda ...

Panda Express ...

Panda Express ...

They ran out of pandas,
broken promises,
no longer fast.

They needed a replacement ...

Something tasty ...

That won't give their customers gas.

PANDA EXPRESS,
founded on FLAVOR,
serving up PANDA,
for your favor,
you can savor,
that nifty taste,
you smear that paste,
dipping sauce,
red faced child,
mild feelings ...

SCREAMING AT THE CEILINGS!

Plastic ZOO gives way
to Antarctic GOO ...

A slurry in a hurry.

A dish best eaten cold.

All of this NEW,
out of the blue,
they hunted the Antarctic Polar Bear
like it was WORLD WAR TWO ... too ...

There are so few
polar bear left,
some of them flew,
some of them wanted to sue,
your mind would seize,
freeze,
squeeze out strife.
Like Barney Fife,
wonder what's
"going on around here???"

But old GLEN is drinking his beer,
in fear,
of laden thoughts,
and new robots,
and meat so fun,
you gotta run,
to PANDA EXPRESS,
this year.

But the silence
of those great plains,
insane white light,
ice and pain,
for that lumbering beast,
it's gone,
it's left,
it's buried,
so few ... so few are still there.

And if they disappear,
leaving this world
alone in the dark,
will some national park,
resurrect this fine beast?

Fusing its DNA with yeast?

"A polar-beer,
my dear friend"

And what message will this send?

In the end left,
with spineless freaks,
beaks full of chum,
for some,
restless geeks.

WHEN?

When?

where ...

Where have you been,
Antarctic Polar Bear,
where have you gone,
you've been gone
so very long ...

yeah, yeah

Where have you gone you sad little polar bear?