I might visit Seattle for Thanksgiving … big maybe. Could happen.
Two votes …
“In a just world, you would have 2 votes in every democracy: the first one gets you elected, the second one is taken AFTER your term is complete and this one is about whether you get to live.” – Dr. Freckles
FROM: MRS BOHDANA ALEKSANDER
URGENT REPLY NEEDED AND CONFIDENTIAL
Am Mrs Bohdana Aleksander the wife of Mr.Danilo Aleksander (Ukraine sunflower oil & wheat,maize farmer ) my husband was murdered by the Russian Army troop because of the war between Russian& Ukraine it was so very terrible. .
He was a sunflower oil & wheat and maize farmer who have invested much in agriculture political opponents.
I acknowledge very well that my Husband deposited the sum of US$10.7M (TEN MILLION SEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS) with a security and financial company here in Johannesburg South -Africa with the intention of using it for the purchase of new farm machinaries and chemical for Agricultural purpose as well as purchasing hectares of land in South Africa for his investment. I got your contact through chamber of commerce .With the high risk of staying in my country we are now on political asylum. (Refugee) me and my son we are here in South Africa, my position does not allow me to open an account or to normalize this fund to any meaningful business transaction, I want you to understand that this is purely family fund not money laundering affair.
I solicit for your honest assistance as I want this fund to be transferred to your account in oversea with your partnership, I will want to invest this fund in your country.
We can invest the fund as a family investment together with you in your country be assured that all the necessary document backing this fund has been arranged with one of the Attorney I meet here in Johannesburg South Africa, feel free to ask any question regarding this transaction.
Hoping to hear from you soonest, kindly contact me through this my private email For Confidential: [email protected]
I need your urgent and confidential response towards this transaction.
Thanks you and regards
MRS BOHDANA ALEKSANDER
My name is Timothy Loh LLP. I am a leading Hong Kong attorney specialize in corporate and litigation law private equity, hedge funds, investment funds, financial services, banking, and bankruptcy practices l am internationally recognized.
It may surprise you to receive this letter from me, since there has been no previous correspondence between us. I will also like to make it clear here that l know that the internet has been grossly abused by criminal minded people making it difficult for people with genuine intention to correspond and exchange views without skepticism.
There is an unclaimed “Permanent Life Insurance Policy” held by our deceased client.
The transaction pertains to an unclaimed “Payable-On-Death” (POD) savings monetary deposit in the sum of Sixteen Million, Nine Hundred Thousand US Dollars ($16,900,000) with one of the prime global insurers. The policy holder was one of our clients. Her name is Lucia Bosè. who was a film actress who died on March 23 of pneumonia after contracting COVID-19. . Since Her death no one has come forward for the claim and all our efforts to locate his relatives have proved unsuccessful. The insurance company policy stipulates that “Insured Permanent Policies" not claimed must be turned over to the abandoned property division of the state treasury after the deadline.
Therefore, I ask for your consent to be in partnership with me for the claim of this policy benefit, If you permit me to add your name to the policy, all proceeds will be processed on your behalf. I wish to point out that I want 10% of this money to be shared among charity organizations while the remaining 90% will be shared between us.
This is 100% risk free and 100% legal. I do have all necessary documentation to expedite the process in a highly professional and confidential manner. I will provide all the relevant documents to substantiate your claim as the beneficiary. This claim requires a high level of confidentiality and it may take up to Ten (10) business days, from the date of receipt of your consent.
Your earliest response to this matter would be highly appreciated
Best Regards,
Timothy Loh.
X’inder or Xyndur or Zindour … (a demon that chased me, followed me, from Seattle)
X’inder would tap on my window, when I was living in Little Saigon. He’d tap and stare, with his burning red eyes, looking deep into my troubled spirit. He offered the salve of forever time and relinquished his alley kingdom to me, I stared bleakly at his weird eyes and wondered how many kinds of cocaine he knew …
I tried talking to the freaks on the other side of DORGEN TOWN, they’d sell me the flounder-mist and I’d shoot up across from the CASCADE HUSTLER, and new bullet train that takes weary travelers from Seattle to the stripper corridor in Kent. Terry Michaels, the Mayor of Grinken Town, stood up for the convenience asking the STREEH-GLUN Klan to ferry mope fuckers from Queen Anne to Guemes Island.
X’inder was the great whisperer …
He drew in the phantom Carlos types, the ones all greasy from S’compton, bringing their frizzle clap and weird existentialist STDs. X’inder was the WIND FURY, he could keep watch on all his parrots all day long, he handed out favors across from the BIG BURGER on Aurora – the hooker parlors would empty out at midnight, just to seek counsel with X’inder, a hopeless wanting for exit strategies.
X’inder whispered through that window in Little Saigon, telling me of sights and smells and things to come … Telling me of weird Japanese sex crews and old time’y racist thugs who scour the streets of failure looking for their boxes of regrets …
“I am the WARLORD KING …”, X’inder screamed at his gronklin-style street armies …
Already, there are dringus armies forming up in the east – they seek the cloven flesh of midnight, they hunt wearing seersucker suits and wingtips … And you think you’ll flee to some caves? Buy some guns at Cabela’s? – nah my friend. GRINKEN TIME is near, and all the Hoglan VOLK will arm themselves with machetes and chain and look for the nearest TORG BEAST to harvest.
X’inder owns the beasts …
X’inder owns the sewers and the toilets …
X’inder is the window washer, X’inder is that old greasy janitor that seems to live in the closet that smells like bleach and vomit and tragedy …
You need it the way you need a wet lover on Saturday night. The lights are dim, always, because of those fucking LED street lights – the lights were brighter not so long ago. Now the race of humans crawls from one mishap to the next, in the twilight of these lights, in the shadow of an Al Gore toilet you need to flush 60 times. You need that diesel fuel to power your VOLKSWAGEN JETTA … and you don’t give a fuck if it kills some old whale in California, as long as the grizzle grease touches you and your witch wife steals the dolby buttons.
YOU NEED THAT DIESEL like you need to EAT. The food, the gombo-grease, the wheel chicklet sandwiches and burnt our frosting pies. You need the diesel so you heart can SOAR on lighting figs and scrumbo-wine.
… the time when the hippies were settling into their Clinton-Bush style American exceptional BDSM parties? Back then hooker kings ran the hooker trade just over the tracks in S’compton, near the Golden Corral that got shut down last year because someone found a dolphin tattoo on their steak … and a fingernail in the meatloaf.
It was crazy back then …
Half of all parents would put razor blades in the kids chocolate … mainly Butterfingers … because the next door neighbor’s dog told them to.
(it was awesome)
When I was a kid …
A lot of parents would put broken glass in their lemonade … they would serve it in ice cubes, in the hot sun … you’d crunch on that ice and your lips would be bleeding and the parents would laugh and laugh and laugh … because it was so fucking funny to see them damn kids lips bleeding … and crying for their mommas …
(it was beyond imagination)
wild dogs covered in leopard moss
going fishing off of the old wharf near that titty bar that burnt down
ski trip, in the mountains, where the old springs of D’Alok flow and the ancient ones do cocaine
hand out flame throwers
build little guillotines for squirrels
DEF CON 4 (1985)
One of the better post nuclear war films …
Paints a more accurate picture, reminiscent of the Aussie apocalypse flicks (Mad Max, etc) …
Has a decent plot to it …
Also a story about NOT giving up …
(full movie free on Youtube)
Damnation Alley (1977)
Not really great … but corny enough that it can make you laugh about nuclear holocaust …
“The only escape from the complexity trap is pain.” – Dr. Freckles
“The cringe’iest kind of bargaining is the bargaining for lesser catastrophes.” – Dr. Freckles
Financial debt is NOT the worst kind – though the central bankers and bitcoin fanatics and government will never tell you this.
The great DEBT problem is complexity: too much complexity, and the resource costs for maintenance, let alone expansion, become non-linear.
It’s not so much that you “run out of oil”, it’s more like there’s NO AMOUNT of ANYTHING to keep up with the complexity generated by … ding, ding, ding: government.
You want a way out of this mess? – you have to de-complexity and refactor society.
(adding complexity, like adding “87,000 IRS agents”, only makes the problem worse in a non-linear way)
And in terms of military command and control? – complexity is horrific … and it doesn’t matter how “advanced” your special weapon is … it’s an “eggs in one basket” strategy … like the death star and its ONE WEAKNESS … (that blows it up)
Something from 11/9/2020:
Warmth and Light …
“Sometimes I think that brief moment of light and heat from the nuclear weapon going off will feel kind of nice.” – Dr. Freckles
Spinning our wheels …
Biding time …
In the waiting room …
Going through the motions …
Waiting for the next shoe to drop …
It’s like the APE QUEEN, bringing her throng to Dooglinville, and not reminding herself that the undulation of her brunctis-zone where scabby beasts lurk and tuzzlelate her boovula. She swings with the WOOKIE FOLK and eats cream of cats. There were many who judged her, and were surprised when she fled the lands … and now they wait, for whatever …
It’s like that dude FRANK you knew in high school. He had firecrackers and fire ants and an aquarium with a piranha … He had porno magazines and a switchblade. He would brag about having sex with the English Comp teacher, he would tell stories of diddling little Jenny Moog in the bathroom. He smelled like bleach and cigarettes, you didn’t know if anything you were told was true. He said “I’m leaving on a spaceship and heading to MARS”, and he took off in that van that day … and now we wait, for him and his spaceship, and the cocaine …
What are we waiting for?
No exit …
Waiting for Godot …
Haunting the Jingus-Realm … living off poop soup.
Failure …
“I’m not embarrassed by my failures … I’m ashamed of the things I didn’t even try to do, because I was too afraid.” – Dr. Freckles
“They did all sex and all the drugs and they left us with their moldy rugs.” – Dr. Freckles
(cum soaked rugs)
“As history turns, the elderly are either revered or reviled.” – Dr. Freckles
Chicago …
SHEGLIN-KLAN, blood drenched fury, their eyes moving from one busty conquest to the next. Armed with bats and chain, going insane from the parasites in their food, water, rain. Jenctis-feasts being held now, where old people, old white people, are burned alive and savored by the dusky, dusty, swarthy conclave. And our own children watch as the fires glow, and Chicago becomes a graveyard, and a Bedlam …
CORBIS-ROO, the dirt-flurgur, last of the the wrench-hawks and lifetime CRIP. He has a posse of street warriors ready for action, they are armed with glock-19 designed to fire all cockeyed, the way a gangsta does when he’s high on crack and he just got done raping some white girl at the school. MIDNIGHT BASKETBALL? – hell yeah, that’s where he learned his trade, dealing, stealing, murdering and general mayhem. On those courts built by Clinton, he learned the OG way … and that’s just so Chicago.
Riviera Gomez Jones was the SOUTH SIDE sector leader for the new style AZTECS and their various Peruvian gods and INCA mud-water KINGS. A great fire eagle screamed as these mean street’r types rode their steeds down the MAG MILE, hunting gondo-flesh where the hookers clean out their boovula at Mayor Lightfoot’s street douche kiosk. “Everyone deserves a douche …”, Lori’s motto. Uugen-group hustlers break out of BOY’S TOWN, bringing their turbo crabs and their fire-herpes and their Oak Park style CLAP, all of it dripping the way Lori Lightfoot’s mouth drips drool during a long one … Chicago has NEVER been better!
We can dance around it, but Chicago is the Devil’s now. The streets are covered in a residue of evil and the people have sunken eyes and cocaine lips. They worship BAAL in the form of some frenchie living on the balcony along the gold coast. They cover themselves in GOOG-RAGS and hangout at Old Ted’s Martini bar, where they take swigs of magic-cone and then revel in their own loin grease. These traders of commodities? – trade in dreeg-flesh and human trafficking and little kids stolen from their families in the Ukraine. They will be the pall bearers for Chicago.
WAKANDA? … that’s a crack-pipe dream. WAKANDA the JUST? … just in case you were wondering, these people will eat bat and tiger and monkey. They will pickle the eyeballs of their enemies and use them in eldritch rituals involving puppies and gerbils. Their women wear nothing but one tight string, and the men wear a codpiece made of crocodile skin. WAKANDA FOREVER? – screams some hooker dying of herpes and crabs, as 9 gorillas take her for a ride. CHICAGO, Wakanda, Uganda … Idi Amin? Chicago is a love palace.
I married a girl from Chicago …
She was a skunk-wench and a whiskey-whore, she wore a hair shirt made of cats and was always late. She’d brag on Chicago, as she slurped her kale shake and talked about how many times she’s been mugged … almost like physical violation were a right of passage there, and then you realize: Chicago is Sodom … the Whore of Babylon. Dingus freaks officiated our wedding as the porn loop gave way to driggen-dancing. And those home spun walnut birds sang their songs of underwhelming light. Along the way, we forgot how to listen – so this is why we have GLOCKS.
99 sector armies are forming up near Aurora. The last of the heebus-traders sold his tiny hat to old shlomo, and now he moves gold to Haifa for the Queen. Chicago has become that black void that only Jung understood and Freud was driven by – that ugly hole of nothing rapped in pain rapped in emptiness. The people there cannot be helped, they are the bug feast of history, and soon their bones will be collected, for “bone day”, as the dogs rule the streets and the humans moan and mope and wail and slouch their way to Gomorrah … and the sun turned black for 12 days …. and all that was left was a broken landscape of morbid dreams and wild nightmares. Want to visit Chicago, amirite?
another full on PSYOP and it’s is not really happening.
partially real, partially fake – all sides conspiring.
the conflict between an empire in decline ($USD petro empire) and emergent multi-polar power blocks … some call this the Thucydides trap … whatever
But what if it is something else …
Rapture of the believers, end times and free will …
I would like to more properly explain what I was talking about in my last podcast about the Tribulation being unavoidable …
What if the Devil threw a picnic and no one showed up …
Rapture of all believers results in almost everyone being gone …
Boblimptock … revisited …
Screigling-TOG, the last elf-man of Trympton, he rode strong on the back of his battle hippo, as careless cigarette fiends lie wasted on the streets and old timey GILF hookers clean out their boovulum. Hairless toad freaks sell their pies made of nuclear waste and fear, and some wrong-time-charley finds lost love near the Tavern of Guilt. Glumpy days for the Haglin tribes, joggers all about, people looting and not shooting. A cavern lovers dream where aliens go to knock up hoes.
This is BOBLIMPTOCK …
GRINKEN TOWN wanderers own half the city, “and it’s not gonna change and we got the banks too”, screamed Haggen-Lo, the Vietnamese princess and owner of JORBEL’S FINE MEATS. Their place was for NEW KINDS of commie people, living in jingus-jars and selling their protein paste to unsuspecting Amish refugees. Never did they stop to remark on the beauty of the day, they kept time using bats and cats and rats strung up like strange fruit working their way to heaven on a thread. And the people spat at their feet … and the lords of the hills wasted, with the Wookie People, for their chance to RAVAGE and STEAL.
… and yeah … this SHIT is Boblimptock.
“INFLATION!”, screamed Queen Messtus, as her ladies in waiting massaged her body with ancient toovis-oils and whale grease. The Central Bank of Grinken, or CBG, is issuing wallet money to the harlot classes, allowing them to buy their blood turnips and their cricket flour. Voorg, the inclusive one, spoke on and on about “dropping cash from planes”, so that people can buy more planes. And the ROCKET JOOG kept complaining about strange princes from stranger lands.
… such is BOBLIMPTOCK …
When kelp warriors wear their gold, and the seal is excused from monkey-meat meals, the new angels of future stuff will spread the butter across the chasm and leave the women of GRINKEN TOWN quivering in ecstasy. Singlet wine, yurg-soup and tiger-stew are on their menu, with waiters wearing leather and diamonds and carrying bandy-bats with carpentry nails driven through them. Scared fishermen make way to safe harbor as the weather turns and the leviathan chases – flesh eating seaweed covers their bodies and blood drips from their eyes.
… and it’s fun during BOBLIMPTOCK brother …
Xyg, the tor-lord, craven and angry and hunting his cocaine juice down by the wharf … he seeks the golden stream and will convert a 1968 Pontiac GTO into a time machine, and a pocket fisherman into a dildo, and Ron Popeil into JESUS … TV jesus. Nestor hawks hunt their quarry where the greasy tricks look for young flesh. Skoog took control of sectors 4 and 33, his mind was filled with broken glass and metal shavings and rage. His fists were tough and scabbed over … his women lived in the caves.
… what mysteries lay with Boblimptock …
HAGAR tribesmen cover their bodies in tattoos and mutilations, CHEESE-MASKS are handed out to the old women so they can hear the wolf men and prepare their boovula for tantalizing exultation and moaning. Old teach with his nasty old books draws designs on the blackboard, teaches 5th grade to 8th graders who need to repeat 1st grade. Chiglin Ranz sought the crystal mallet of HORT so that the 17 witches might be punished and the armies of the EAST might rage south toward Armageddon. And the DEVIL laughed at midnight, and the babies were born under a dark star.
Can you handle BOBLIMPTOCK?
Keb? – he flew a plane for the allied armies. His jet was fast and nasty and casted from crystalline titanium, and all these weapons are controlled by his thoughts. Rockets, capable of destroying buildings and poodles, are fired while he travels at MACH 300 … so very fast. And his hooker wife? – she waits at home, watching TV, yelling at “PUTIN, PUTIN, PUTIN”, eating her hot pocket WHILE the contractor working on her kitchen eats her hot pocket. There’s no more chardonnay to drink, and the pill box is empty. Chariots of iron and wood creak their way to BOBLIMPTOCK.
Can they run?
A SKLEEG-CANNON is used when you’re fighting coober-bears. These bears wear an armor with a CLASS-8 rating, they can fling time spells and incantations. They are the guardians of lost swamps where cannibals hangout and make pizza. They are the wanderers, the broken records, the one shoe. They are the mailbox that is full, but full of what? – “Those pictures you have been looking for?” … but were you looking SCRO? His deception is full and the bread of the past is moldy. The wine of madness is still being sold at 7/11 …
Ready for convenient shopping during BOBLIMPTOCK?
Cat herders from S’compton leave the bones for the dogs, their hand cannons blazing with jergin-fury and their women rubbing their strimbo to achieve total oneness. West side and east side rappers keep the fire blazing, as angry cops beat their suspects and dump them off of Muscle Beach and Medina and near the old pier where the LA PD beat that old lady to death two years ago. And VENICE BEACH? – her queenly ways will bewilder and beguile, and the whale merchants will suckle upon fried grizzle.
… want to know more about BOBLIMPTOCK?
“MALIBU LIGHTING”, demanded a jogger. It was day 33 of the police strike, and the hookers were all in chains. Wild and mean dogs chase the hookers down the street, as their pimps rule each corner and the pill merchants rule the ether space. Cocaine cougars, lonely in the Brentwood Hills, touch and rub their nuggy-dingle and imagine bare chested dusky and dusty and swarthy types breaking down her door and managing her arousal, 6 on 1. And that burger joint? – they’re beyond meat now. Dead rat and cat are for closers, the mystery meat tacos are for the kangus warriors and the crips and the bloods.
… and you can be a hip hop king?
I knew he was cleaven-beast when I saw that scrumbo. He was hanging down by the CHEVRON off of Drimpton Street, not far from where those crips got slaughtered six years ago after those nuns went missing … we don’t talk about it. HOOGER-CROW? HOOGER-CROW our scroglon lord stepped out of the darkness wearing a codpiece of silver and steel. He smiled his crooked smile as he swung his ax and kilt my friend Junctis. He declared the age of BOBLIMPTOCK when he saw the fire eaters doing their dance, and the men of DORBOH finding poison eels in the sewer. HOOGER was the first warlord of boblimptock, he road a wolf into battle …
.. boblimptock the great?
“The tisker-rat is fine eating”, declared LORD BOBLIMPTOCK. “I feed on this as I feed on souls, and my own heart becomes stonier, my fingers caked in blood …” It was the age of GROTON, when young ladies would form lines just to get a piece of his sluggle-oil. The GREAT LORD, as he was called, would bathe in drinktus and muskrat flesh and the sauce of Fue-Master-Gurgen. And in this solace he would imagine the coming wars against MARS and the LAST HOOKER REPUBLIC of MARS … and what that would mean to his 50 wives and 432 childrens … maybe 434 …
… is he not magnificent? Is he not BOBLIMPTOCK?
Messengers of the future are telling you to caste out your rage and replace it with broken glass, and metal shavings, and sawdust, and diesel. You have the oyster of success, your hooker wife awaits you, 66 floors up from 6th AVE, somewhere near the DREGEN CLANS where pear mist sundaes are served to heroin addicts and their funken-folk. TREGLEN, the UNDULATING? – his own posse hunts flesh down there, those loose women in high skirts, being chased by wild dogs at the park. TREGLEN has his fill of that booty, and the world turns grey and red.
… but LORD BOBLIMPTOCK will rule, and all the skugglin-feeders will be his serfs.
HOOGER-CROW has seen the signs. He has collected his own skungo army and is readying his sword. He has PILES of silver, stacked at warehouses, in the Catskills … and he’s ready to pull out his pistol of deflationary oblivion as long as the hookers take VISA …
He has the heart of the newstyle clown-king, and his name will be known among the 8,000 tribes of NYC.
I met HOOGER in San Francisco back in 1987. He was one of those YOUNG PUNKS making his way, going from one cocaine snake pit to the next. We shared hookers and heroin, we drove a Lambo out to Munkton Point. He showed me his plan, and I knew he was the one. He said “we’ll be KINGS of the new realm, and all the lands will be ours, all the bodies will be buried, all the sparrow hawks will kneel before us”, and then he passed out, started convulsing, I had to wipe the vomit out of his throat so he wouldn’t die.
8 Regling-armies are forming outside of S’compton … the grinken hordes are massaging their sklib, sharpening their swords, staring deeply into the abyss of soul pain. SCRANKTON, the CHANG-CHONG LEADER, built his own abattoir of drinkton speed freaks and old style groglon monkey women. And when the scarlet whore spreads her legs, you know her kumm is made of honey wine.
Christian End Times Scare Flicks: 70’s to the Present …
A thief in the night (1973)
A distant thunder (1978)
Image of the Beast (1981) — computers take front stage in this one …
The Prodigal Planet (1984)
Apocalypse (1998)
Left Behind: The Movie (2000)
Left Behind: Tribulation Force (2002)
Left Behind: World at War (2005)
The End Times (2006)
Left Behind (Nicolas Cage starring) (2014) — I feel sorry for Nicolas …
The Rapture: the beginning of the end (2015)
“Vanished” – Left Behind: Next Generation (2016)
Government …
“Government: the soft quilt that strangles you to death.” – Dr. Freckles
Hate or Love …
“Do you know what is required to either hate or love someone? – that you KNOW them.” – Dr. Freckles
There’s FALSE and then there’s …
“There’s logically false, and then there’s WA DC.” – Dr. Freckles
Rigidity VS Stability …
“Never mistake rigidity or stiffness for stability or strength.” – Dr. Freckles
FIN-TECH, SUPER-CITIES and BITCOIN …
Had to do the infinite dance with the checkout machine, AGAIN, today … tap, tap, tap … tap that ass … maybe my transaction will be taken THIS TIME … funny: they said these computers would make things more efficient …
I laugh at the fuckers who ask me why I use paper money …. cash.
I joked to the folks at the Maverick saying “I studied the collapse of the USSR in grad school, so none of this shocks me …” … they laughed … they weren’t sure why.
I remember this family member telling me Seattle was a unstoppable super city …
I remember the fucks in 1995 telling me the government CAN’T CONTROL the WWW …
I remember this “friend” who keeps pushing crypto as an ALT currency for anarchists … yeah … that grift keeps on giving …
Normal or THE END …
“History isn’t binary bro … there’s the END OF THE WORLD and EVERYTHING IS FINE and EVERY WEIRD STATE in between.” – Dr. Freckles
Just yesterday I was saying: why are the lights still on in Kiev?
Well it looks like Putin listens to my podcast, because VOILA … we have a lot of logistical and infrastructure issues in Ukraine today because they were impacted by Russian missiles.
Now what?
Putin doesn’t have to launch any ground offensives. He can sit on his gains, solidify defenses, and reduce Ukraine to 18th Century living standards from a distance …
Does he launch an early winter offensive against Odessa?
Does he try to take Kiev?
You know the Russians have strategic momentum when you realize THEY have a lot of good options …
Movie: The Thaw (2009), roughly a decade before the “pandemic” …
Movie: Contagion (2011), roughly a decade before the “pandemic” …
(there’s a whole LIST of movies …)
Remember when …
Remember when our parents had to harvest the loin grease of wild dogs and cats and bats, so that they could ferment it and you’d have something to take to school that day to trade with the bully who beat you senseless and left you in a ditch to die? – that was great …
Remember when you and your wife took that trip to Grinken Town, but the EAST SIDE HOOLIES were causing havoc, and your wife was sold as a white slave to Chairman Muumbasa … all for a few protein cubes and some jinctus-sauce? – great times.
Remember when you were 20 years old, but you were lost at sea. You fell in love with a Dutch princess and heiress named Victoria Zantos-Rockus-Muller. And you ingungulated her bloovis zone, as the moisture of rapturous love filled the cabin of her yacht, and you hit some reef off of Malta, and all were lost at sea … except you … and Billy Zane? – AWESOME …
Remember that time that spook’s wife, a friend of your mom, came up to you at your mom’s funeral and told you a tale of US experimentation on sailors, marines, other service members, at Bikini Atoll in 1946 … and she gripped some manila folder tightly across her breast … and told you that your DAD was one of these guinea pigs. Your dad, that volunteered to serve in the Pacific theater at the age of 17? Needed his parent’s signature to enlist? Remember THAT FUCKING BULLSHIT?
Self control == Anarchism == Sovereignty == Self-governance
When the “monkey herpes” began, I was thinking about “taking better care of myself”. Maybe not drinking so many beers … maybe walking or running … I even spent a couple weeks jogging in March/April 2020 … before the onset of “race war”.
But it struck me, soon after they announced “warp speed” vaccines, and Bon Jovi’s “do what yer told” music video, that it didn’t really matter. The only thing I was certain of then, is what I am certain of today: much of the “current events”, as reported, are a PSYOP, a smokescreen … to cover up something. Given the scale and nature of the manipulation, trauma based mind control, it can’t be anything good … they are, figuratively speaking, carpet bombing the third eye, why?
So get into good shape, and take your booster. Eat kale … I really don’t give a fuck … but if you’re one of these FUCKERS that gives holiday speeches about fitness and “self control”, but you wore the coffee filters and preach voting? … FUCK OFF … for what’s left of your confused life.
“If you’re some asshole that gives speeches about ‘self control’ to your fat friends, but you’re also a voter? – you’re a douche bag.” – Dr. Freckles
And then there’s the thing about botulism exposure.
A friend of mine, a listener, recommended another theory …
That it’s possible TPTB are poisoning the food supply … so let’s revisit COVID.
If these people are so smart, why would they use a bioweapon that can easily be traced to its source? Why not use binary and trinary toxins, in the food supply, in the pharma delivery services? This type of action would be hard to detect, until it’s too late … it would be FAST vs the COVID PSYOP slow burn.
STEAMBOAT
We went to Steamboat, CO, the other day. That was interesting.
We took the 40 out to BLINKTON, and then went to see the dinosaur ghosts. Every year thousands go to Blinkton, to see the bones, to talk about their favorite dinosaurs, as the water dries up and the fish go south.
6 hours out of Jig, Wyoming, we got lost and there was no cell service. We spent so much time on those dirt roads trying to find our way back, seeing places frequented by mantis-bats and owl-possum. We got hungry, so we pulled over at this one horse diner in Shmigington, not far from Flaming Gorge and that spot where those old people were drowned last year … and nobody likes to talk about it …
All they had was pork loin and tister-oil. They mixed it all into a bleen salad and tossed these bowls of wrath in front of us, and you could feel the earth twitching … “It’s all we got, nothing grows here any longer, not sense they started the spraying … That old fishwife pointed up at the sky as she said those words, and then picked her nose and rubbed the booger onto the table … and then walked away. So we got back on the road.
After several more hours of hooker side roads and elephant off ramps, we pulled into a “LOAF and JUG” not far from the “KUM and GO” where those 12 hookers were buried a few years ago … we don’t talk about it. We were 2 hours out of STEAMBOAT when we saw the sign … “90 miles to STEAMBOAT” … and so our driver stepped on the gas, to cut the trip down to one hour of hard driving …
When we got close to STEAMBOAT, we stopped at Milner Mall … where they have the landfill scavengers living, folks who make shoes out of old tires and wear frayed garbage bags and painter’s drop plastic and eat scroglon-stew …
We got into STEAMBOAT late, and it was mostly filled with hipster-trust-fund types and anal-wizards. Some screeg-roon strig and mountain hustlers … They were selling dunder knives, claiming some old style injun magician made them … in his home … using melted down needles from the addicts in San Fran … he won the “who’s who” in Colorado art 5 years running.
After drinking mead at Sarah’s Tail Shoppe, we went over to the thrunket pond, where at midnight, every day, STEAMBOAT’s residents roast some random homeless dude over a fire. They feed on his meats … they savor his despair.
As the smoke from the dead fills the air, and midnight turns to 3 AM, we got back into our car, and left that cursed place …
We tossed insults at the funken-folk, as they swallowed mouthfuls of prestige and premium shopping.
STEAMBOAT is doomed.
“I am your pork sword, you are my butternut ham hock …”, is that a pickup line?
I cannot tell a lie …
“If anyone says ‘I cannot tell a lie’? – you know they are either a liar or Jesus.” – Dr. Freckles
The GERMAN …
The GERMAN MIND is a TIME SALAMANDER …
He sees through the munctis and scrimulack and other soul debris.
His music is the “clang, clang, clang” of steel being strengthened …
If the GERMAN has access to cheap Russian gas and oil and other condom related products?
THE GERMAN will DEFY the WORLD …
NATO MAN wants to control the GERMAN MIND. To wrangle his spirit into a dark cubicle of regret. The NATO man sends his twinks, his trannies, to enslave the GERMAN, and to frustrate the RUSSIAN. But German MAN and RUSSIAN MAN were meant for one another, they dream of oil baths and hot Friday nights. NATO man is jealous, and covered in crabs.
“CAN YOU SMELL THE JINCTUS!”, screamed Volgram, the last of the sheep masters.
“Yes Sire, I can sense the coming fire …”
For 300 throggin-trig, the Gloob people had gathered bits of metal and plastic from what was once BERLIN. They scour the ditches, tossing over old moldy wooden boxes only to find the bones of children, dead many throg. As the time oracle would say … “they were once Germans, they were once alive” … before the FIRST FIRE was sent by people who wore very small hats.
Written on the faces of these wastrels, “we should have listened, we should have turned EAST”.
The GERMAN MAN eats muskrat waffles, and pisses blood and whiskey. He wakes each morning to the sound of destiny, as his tanks are filled by RUSSIAN princes.
The GERMAN MAN wears a codpiece made of silver and iron, and he wields an AX of diamonds and titanium. He suckles upon the fruit of disdain, as NATO MAN prances about …
The GERMAN MAN needs RUSSIAN FUEL and with this he and his hyperborean women will RULE MARS!
Forever covered in giblets and greases.
Forgiveness …
“The counter-party to forgiveness is remorse and restoration.” – Dr. Freckles
Hookers and princesses …
“What’s the difference between a hooker and a princess? – how close you look.” – Dr. Freckles
Bought a basic computer for under $300 … from AMAZON. It didn’t take a UBUNTU 22 build, but it did take UBUNTU 18.04 just fine … at this point? – maybe having an older OS, even if it’s LINUX, is better. And have copies of the bootable OS on USB drives (plural): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B4D44D56?psc=1&ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_product_details . BTW … you could go cheap and get a RASPBERRY PI … sometimes we go too cheap. The GEEKOM is very fast, faster than I expected, and has decent onboard video/audio support.
Not giving up on our RAD projects, but the last 6 months has been hard. Hard to keep going with no money, hard to (at 52 years old) to do the 16 hour days in order to make both a “real job” and this work, but we’re not giving up. I plan on taking lessons learned from our first rad-term software ecosystem and instead go 100% python on the client side, other than the necessary JS8Call app running.
MICRO-HARASSMENT … like micro-aggression … but per the issue of sexual harassment. That scoopy movement with both hands … the one hand making an OH … and the other hand with one finger going in and out, reciprocally, like a dick. I invented this concept, I don’t care.
What was the worst thing that happened on your trip?
What was the best thing that happened on your trip?
Tell us about the food in rural France? Compare this to food available in the urban areas? (think about what I’ve said: where the FEMA camps are)
Did you see any signs of social deterioration?
Did you avoid no-go zones?
Would you recommend France to other people?
Why didn’t you buy Dan a case of French wine?
Anything else of interest, and the upcoming prophecy series using Maranatha (Bultema) as a guide …
Mike’s Notes:
Traveling: Air travel and the fraud of “customs” – appears to be a make-work program that’s run by computers. None of the documents we were told to travel with were asked for, except our passports. We were not even questioned about the purpose of our visit aside from tourism.
As far as trains? – took the RER to Paris from Charles De Gaulle. First train we got on broke before it even left the station. The train ride was depressing. Paris suburbs are a mess.
Food: The food was amazing from the first bite in Paris and got markedly better the further we traveled away from major cities.
€12 platter of local food(see photo)
Wine. No sulfates/sulfides = no headache
Beer. Tasty and not quite as alcoholic as American craft beer
Village food is unreal. No meal for two over $40 including drinks and dessert.
The mysterious skin issues I’ve been dealing with since 2006 disappeared by day two.
My sense of smell took a 20X by day two
Lost 8 pounds and I ate like a fatso….
People: Outside of cities – relatively high trust society. Keys left in parked cars. Super polite way of dealing with one another. An emphasis on some formality. No expectation of friendship just because you met someone.
Driving: ZERO left lane camping on any freeway except where there was congestion.
At least they’re honest…. Lol
Many French I spoke with had a realistic view of the government. In sum “they” will do what they want and don’t care about the people. Encountered only 2 certified assholes during the entire two weeks
Housing: Outside of the cities, housing is cheap. I saw nice 2-4 bedroom houses on a bit of property for anywhere from €90,000 to €200,000. Very affordable.
The thing about military psychological warfare, it’s about capture – capturing the minds of men and women.
If you wore the coffee filter? – you were captured.
If you listened to Ian Miles Wrong or Andy Ngo Clue and the race war fear? – you were captured.
If you think ANY of the Trump-Biden trauma drama is real? – you have been captured.
If you look at the Ukraine conflict from a superficial angle? – you have been captured.
Jenghiz-TORR
He ruled realm-44-ZED, not far from the old border with Mexico. He kept cage-rats and elephant-bats and monkeys from the swamps of Utah. His women revered HIM and his life tube, they mungulated-their boovluzz while inguzzlating their thrinktus hole. They would be in heat for weeks while awaiting his albino sauce.
“Is the time right?”, Ned, the LAND-SURFER, asked Jenghiz.
“The time?”, Jenghiz looked up towards are dark sky of rage, and fire, and smoke, and pain.
He knew the time of TORBULIS was upon his peoples …
He knew the GORGAN-KING was organizing hooker princes and stripper queens. His mind was filled with ants, and his heart was broken by too many loves lost. The KING would form up his junket-army, arming his gangs with bats and chain … yearning for fringo-dust.
“THE TIME HAS COME!”, Jenghiz howled …
“We need to dust off our bats and chain, we need to fill our pillow cases with rocks and revenge. All french bulldogs need to be harvested to grease our tanks, all the res dogs need to prepare as hell hounds and war dogs … We cannot stop the coming of ROOG, but we can pull together the shallow corn and hurdle-beasts, and make a stew of readiness.”
And Jenghiz finished his speech …
And the people mumbled and groaned, but preparations for war were made.
It was the time of ROOG, the time of the harbingers and nerf-herders and the old style herpes soup …
And the sun went down on these lands …
And the coyotes counted their blessings.
Empires …
“Empires, at the end, implode or explode.” – Dr. Freckles
I think the US empire will implode, assuming the WW3 gambit does not work.
Life …
“Situational stupidity: that’s another name for life.” – Dr. Freckles
Solomon …
“Wisdom vs money … or gold. You can always buy as much wisdom as you want, and you’ll want more hookers.” – Dr. Freckles
Today … in nuke war …
If the Ukraine isn’t just another coordinated PSYOP snuff flick, then what happens next is critical.
– Russia does nothing, consolidates control in the breakaway regions of Ukraine, and waits for a call from Germany in November
– Russia picks a proportional target … what would that be? An LNG ship?
– Russia figures out that “not playing” or “playing by the rules” are no longer options with an insane, and possibly evil, opponent … and that means strategic and selected nuke strikes on key C2 and C3 targets, including a blanketing EMP attack to keep a lid on the pot … they don’t invade, it’s not RED DAWN. They wait to negotiate with whomever crawls out of their bunker first.
Of course, NATO could come to its senses and turn this off … but not likely.
Escalation at this point is also telegraphing your punches … and Russia has very little incentive to do a piece wise incremental movement to nuke war.
Both Russia and China would be best served to jump to the first strike, pick good targets, immobilize target nations with EMP.
Yes – there are dead man switches …
(but Biden … and then you drop the mic)
Also, conveniently …
This “Ukraine War” kept a lid on most Arctic Circle research since February …
And, randomly, this methane blowout in the Baltic is eerily similar to coastal and estuarial methane hydrate blowouts predicted by the Clathrate Gun. (and none of this is related to driving SUVs or eating meat)
We will see …
TPTB have been conducting high level military psychological warfare since early 2020 … LIES at this scale do not tend to hide “nice things”.
(not likely they’re preparing a surprise party)
Here are some upcoming events that could halt WW3.
– Zelensky government collapses, new government makes peace with Russia
– NATO fractures
– China normalizes relations with Taiwan (not likely)
I think, assuming this war is real and Putin is a rational independent agent:
Putin’s next move is to consolidate gains and do nothing. The pipeline can be fixed. I think he believes the Zelensky government will be in trouble, and he’s right.
The Zelensky government falls, a more moderate non-aligned replacement takes over, and a peace is made with Russia.
NATO could try to keep the war going at that point, but not without risking a war that has both Russia and the Ukraine fighting NATO satanists.
Zelensky is in trouble. He either uses some Epstein style “get out of jail free card” and gets resettled in Miami or Israel …
Or, Ukrainians kill Zelensky …
He could make peace with Putin, but the CIA would kill him before that.
If …
“If you’re an anarchist, practice it in your daily life.” – Dr. Freckles
Good times … Bad times …
“There are good times and bad times in all times.” – Dr. Freckles
Son of Bill
I was thinking about my writing. It’s not super well edited or proof read. And if I asked Boomer, the dog, his opinion? – he’d say it’s “ruff”.
But then he’d say … “I’m Son of Bill”
“You gonna tell me to kill Bill?”
“Nah … I want you to sell diet pills – but it’s really poorly cooked meth …”
“Okay … that’s not killing people …”
“Well … the pills will shut down their kidneys in about 4 days … not quality pills … I’m Son of Bill. …”
“So I will be killing people …”
“Yeah … it’s ruff …”
“Ruff life …”
“Ruff”
Black Markets
“If the black markets are big, the tyranny is big.” – Dr. Freckles
Communists …
“A communist is an anarchist pending a LOT of DISAPPOINTMENT!” – Dr. Freckles
Canal Foam
A listener asked me, “what’s canal foam?”
What’s in it?
condoms and tampons … all can be reused and sold.
Dringus and trig
mucous
blood and viscera
rotten food
dead animals
agricultural runoff
chunks of dead bodies
Coblin-Folk are hiding in their dens, sharpening sticks and dreaming of the blood harvest. The Strog-Witch is making talismans, and placing these on each fault line … to bring forth the END.
Knowing you will die …
Makes life more interesting …
pick last words (mine will be related to some treasure map)
nothing can silence, no fear, no prison, no cop
if you’re a Christian? – you have spiritual faith and strength that adds even more power
