MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20221015_BOBLIMPTOCK_REVISITED.mp3
Donate: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/doctorfreckles
Ash and trash …
- Gun control fear
- Signs in the sky
- You need to check what people tell you
- BLAME STORMING phase of Ukraine
We got crab legs …
Wars and rumors of wars …
Matthew 24: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2024&version=NIV
What is the War in the Ukraine:
- 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.