“His response was to fight it with the only weapons at hand—passive resistance and open displays of contempt.” ― Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan

Bringing tzaraath of g-d down upon me: Lashon hara, and military madness in a forty ounce.

Tzaraath – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tzaraath

Ah- The wrath.

Tzaraath of G-d.

Hashem- My balls, in boils. My face in blotches- my labors- and Alice in Chains, hacked from some Mamasota security guards personal, pathetic collection of musical garbage via the old ” Kazas” platform’ pork sure is smelly, I discovered.

At some point in a Christian culture of war and death; rape, imprisonment and enslavement- you’re just pulling out your hair, renting your garments, and throwing shit in your own face- it’s the only way to remain sane.

I will leave that word turd to float here for awhile, remembering for now, the last two times that people walked on my roof in the late hours of the night.


Henry Miller : “The ordinary man is involved in action, the hero acts. An immense difference.”

And everybody else, in re, sanity:

But what the hell do I know? I can tell you stories from now till dawn about the marvelous places my dick took a swim- but to what avail?

They all ended up as lewd narratives in official dossiers’ there at the NSA, FBI, et ass.

And what’s left of a narrative once they shit onto your bedsheets after an unwarranted raid*?

Even sex loses its luster; and eugenics become a question: ” did the primordial ooze include pig shit?”

This, certainly, will keep great minds talking for the next four thousand years.

* shortly after I discovered that one of my storage lockers had been raided by ” as yet unnamed” assailants, an anonymous voice on the internet mocked the idea of the ” sneak and peek” search- and intoned that government is all powerful, and I am nothing.


The wrath if God, and the three shits I don't give to official narratives anymore.

Shortly afterwards, I began a ” show them your stinky brown asshole” campaign: when my cell phone was jammed, or my internet cut- I flashed my dirty, hairy, shit and sweat ball crusted ass crack out the windows.

Outside my windows at the time, I often found footprints in the snow; and sometimes, inside my homes, shits that I had not taken in my toilets.

So- using what human resources were available to me at the time, I wrote about it, and drank a lot.

And, to the people who rented apartments across from my house- those people who came and went from my yard; those people who made brief, often unflattering appearances on my security cameras, I apologize that we had to speak this way.

I was then- and now, already on record as a shitty asshole.

You, on the other hand, were just beginning you career in the limelight. And- I will expose you for what you did.

The asshole shots are really just a way to compliment the work that you have otherwise stolen, one black bag job after another, going back to 2000.

But there will be light at the end of the tunnel- and it might well be the last thing you see, there, in your faces.


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This entry was posted on September 2, 2015 by in Uncategorized.

We’re all so meta that the NSA targets our intellectual detritus.


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