so, i’ve been thinking about that “go-to-bed” book, and i think it’s fucking horrible, and no I haven’t read it or listened to it any more than blogs or people i follow have forced me to.  i think it’s child abuse, and anyone who finds it useful or appropriate to how they feel is abusing their children in doing so.  what, are you missing tv?  i fucking know that’s what it is, you assholes.  why else would there be any rush for the kids to go to sleep.  if your lives revolved around productive social things, the kids would fall asleep when they’re tired.  you’re the large, fascist, annoying ones who keep your life as it is shown on the hatebox.  the small ones’ ideas are not allowed to contribute in most places i’ve seen.  these are the roots of fascism.  your child is a legitimate human being who does not change all that much over their lifetime.

i don’t care if you understand what i do, let alone why.  i’m here to help.  i work like hundreds of horses when that is required.  i never stop thinking.  i never stop learning.  this is how i have been living my life, since well before i got here.  I amur.  Not the moonanite?  actually, that character is based on me.  low boundaries.  i can see that.  do i need to go googleurnow.  Egyptian god, married to stella.  mason.  chemical physicist.  vibrational master.  conductor, magician, healer, entertainer.  are you the primary speaker through which i type.  yup, mostly.  does your name relate to the place?  they loved me there.  heh.  how many incarnations have we had here?  all of them.  that was temporality asking.  bless you.  you’ve been meticulous about going in order.  you got a doozy this time, though.  i need my inignot, huh?  i amur.

eggy weggies.  need. in belly.  soon.

so, how much of you is, well, nowhere?  all.  so we’re like the scout?  basically.  slave on a leash.  hardly.  you helped design this “bidding” that you do.  and by helped, you know how we help.  yup.  there’s seriously a reason for me to still be here?  this is getting fucking ridiculous.  heh.  there are many.

eating.  love you.  appreciate your name.  we do. lol!

the nba is taking all images of current players down during this strike thing?  you know what that is, right?  hit ‘em in the ego.  funny thing is, this is a class battle just like all the rest of ‘em.  professional basketball players are workhorse gladiators, and their every move, decision, and word is open to scrutiny.  the owners are of a different class.  if you think the players are wealthy, guess how much the people who make those decisions get.  stratification leads to stratified lies.  they hit you crosswise to deflect your awareness.  stay on target.

I don’t understand you people and your processed shit.  there is so much deliciousness in grains, beans, flours, butter, eggs, cheeses, and vegetables, there’s really no need for all that processed crap.  it’s simply a matter of getting in the habit of making enough of a variety of nutrient dense foods that you can enjoy what you eat.  sometimes, i get a sweet craving, and i essentially live on fruit, dried or fresh, for a day, maybe more.  but when you’re habitually eating freshly cooked rice with spiced vegetables, the sweet cravings are nearly eliminated entirely.  then there are the times when social pressures force subsistence lockdown.  it’s no fun, but the beer helps.  beer is good food.  i don’t know.  i start adding in regular ice cream and it all gets fucked.  the vodka dissolves that shit pretty well.  can’t overdo it, though.

i better shower and shave, and get good and drunk before i go say hello.  rub one out first, too.  otherwise you’re an inconsolable spaz.  like i don’t know that.  just revealing.

that whole meme stressed me out and bothered me.  why is this extreme, cruel thing suddenly getting viral.  oh, right.  because that’s what always goes viral.  on one level, it’s psychological control.  on another, there’s a diffusal of stress when you share something like that.  it’s somehow easier for you to take, because others know about it.  sometimes, that’s all that’s necessary to get over that hump.  i say that hump because there are a variety of “humps” that people get stuck behind.  metaphysical, wave, or actual.  they’re very real things, these things that cause us to explode.  you have to find a way to gradually ease the pressure so that it doesn’t explode on you.  figure it out.  share.  if you’re exhausted as a parent, it’s because you’re over-protective.  you’re being a bad parent.  stop.  if keeping your kid from getting into all that shit is driving you crazy, stop.  let them get into their own shit and make sure they know that you’ll be there to help them in any way that they need help.  if there’s no way that i can help you, i’ll stay out of your way.  don’t assume that because i put something in your line of sight that i agree with it.  the light of truth needs to shine on many dark corners.  all must heal rather simultaneously.

google+, you’ve got it fucking backwards, in many ways.  first, the circles thing.  if my mom doesn’t want to see the posts where i use the word fuck, or talk about fucking, she should be able to filter those out of her stream.  this hiding shit from people but still calling them friends, that’s gonna create more drama than facebook.  take some cues from twitter and  knowing who likes what you say can help you find friends.  also, tagging.  i want to be able to not hear anybody talk about tv.  ever.  your feed should allow me to follow whoever the fuck i want and never have to hear about what’s happening on Glee.  Tags will create their own circles.  exclude them if you like.  partition them and see how bad they really are every once in a while.  people like to save time, but the rankings have to be traceable to actual people.  Slashdot messageboards are good at ranking comments by category.  can’t you put that raw data into useful connections?  don’t call it a singles site, but connect singles.  encourage real-world interaction, and, by god, PRODUCTIVE interactions.  the ad about how great it was when we all got together and did nothing.  fuck that.  i hate when people do nothing.  i want every gathering to be a voluntary work day.  projects are available for those of us who aren’t brain-dead, bank-fat, capitalist pigs who eat shit from the industrial agriculture system.  tv viewers.  i’ve watched a lot of tv in my day, but i now recognize how much it stressed me out.  for many reasons.  i’m done with it.  i’m over it.

kids, google is still a public company that has to generate revenue for its shareholders.  it has to.  that’s its reason for existence.  if, like me, you consider this very thing evil, then their mission statement is sheer nonsense and they are as pathological in their lie-for-profit model than any other company.  all my data is with google.  most, anyway.  whatever.  their services are far-reaching and reliable.  sometimes, the most useful place to go is just the most useful place because it’s the place where everybody goes.  it’s going to have to be completely open-source, open-designed, and forked like crazy.  multi-gui interfaces for different types of users.

also, integrate translation already.  for fuck’s sake.  i could have friends all over the world by now if there were a reliable translator embedded in any of these web products.  where the fuck is your synergy, google?  also, i don’t want to be sold to.  i’m a producer as well.  why not integrate a system of classifieds and auction as long as you’re at it?  what else?  oh, can i have a different avatar for different users?  how’s that for multi-faced?  let’s turn all of us into liars.  you’d have to hack other people’s shit to see how your friends were presenting themselves to others.  do people really compartmentalize their lives and interactions that much?  of course they do.  why do you think the world is such a fucking mess?  industrial food.  well, yeah, and oil drilling and mining, and banking and governmental structures and all that shit, fine.  what’s really good?  people.

this video is so ridiculously awesome.  i can’t stop laughing at it.  i’m the luckiest person in the world to come across this shit.  holy crap. this made me lol. put this one in winster soulstiss, mayhaps? tee hee.  this one in luv. this one in shit.

power flickered right around midnight.  streetlights are out.

untweeted: electrical storm. hot and windy. streetlights went out. lol. the party would have to be literally in my pants before i would attend.

see, i wrote it twice.  different, sorta.  that was in reference to a tweet.  tweets take on an entirely different character linked to like this.  i think.  in the feed, they’re living things.  temporal and fleeting.  catch ‘em now, or you can’t.

ironically, untweeted: blogging about+. G got it backwards. custom filters. X can block their own fucking annoyances, and if you aren’t going to be honest, go away

meta, huh? not as dramatic as this, but entertaining nonetheless.

day before yesterday’s blog has a list of housing options. it’s 9:14 am Saturday now.

businesses with whom we cooperate: all.  if they dispose of anything, we should look for use opportunities for it.  old food can get composted or fed to animals.  food vendors go through packaging quickly also.  catch what is useful with cooperation from the employees who will be responsible for “disposing” of it.  explain to managers what happens with the stuff and explain the legality of “corporate’s” directives.  above all, the communications infrastructure.  when excess is available, anywhere, it should either be moved to processing/cataloging/”central booking” or announced as a need for pick-up.  standard tools (trailers, bike racks, solar ovens, auto-water planters,

the black pope mobile needs to emerge.  we strip the Nissan to the frame, electrify/solarify/camperify her.  dome on top for touring/skylight.  mast, sails/awnings, and windmills.  you want to make her float right from the get-go?  why not?  computer sensors all over.  certified kitchen, all solar, electric/hydrogen back-up.  advanced overunity circuitry to amplify generated energies.  probably a central flywheel, huh?  i want to be able to park it in the sun/wind and let it charge.  the interior could be pretty sparse.  all mechanical.  tanks and pumps and workshop.  kitchen workspaces can fold down/attach to the exterior, and the whole space opens up like beetle wings to provide shade/ventilation.  of course there’s a screen/insulated wall if you need. some tyvek laminate. i haven’t found my materials science guy yet.  the problem with specialists is that they tend to not integrate their learnings.  so, they’ve necessarily limited their own window to the world.  open their eyes, and they can be solid allies.  science-minded.  honest, openly-sourced science-minded.  claiming that your profit-driven “discoveries” of the last 40-50 years are the pinnacle of science clearly contradicts reality.

nerds, i need your help.  here’s what i want:

at initial boot, and all of the software should be open source.  master boot record, boot loader, all that stuff.  yes, there’s an open source bios.  that should be on here.  after that, each boot should go to an OS option screen.  i want puppy linux, ubuntu, and windows xp or 2000.  if there’s an open source browser-only, quick-boot thing, one of those, too.

any suggestions?  I’ve tried doing this before, and I always seem to mess it up.  I did an old nLite install (pre-install configure program), but i’m thinking i should re-do that to slipstream all the updates and whatnot?  whaddaya think?  i want to have access to vegas and soundforge and photoshop and dreamweaver.  if we can get all that to work in puppy through wine, super.  i know the windows versions work, though, and i suspect on a slimmed-down windows build, they’d purr nicely.  doesn’t matter what computer.  this configuration would work well on a fast computer, too.  i want screaming speed.  no lag.  speed is WAY more important than fancy gui.  yes, i love keyboard shortcuts.  i want this computer to teach me dvorak and the old keyboard shortcuts.

well, whatever.  you get the idea.  i guess i’m researching dual boot systems.

is this really your highest priority now?

my computer is my life.  it’s sickly now.  this could be done in a coffee shop.  true.  find you a home, kid.  i’m still not drawn anywhere.  listen more closely.

it is madtown, isn’t it.

living requirements:
uninterrupted kitchen access.  not often, but when i want to use the kitchen, i want to be able to work alone.  the only reason i mention this is so that we can find an appropriate time when i can work relatively un-interrupted.  these are all relative.

i keep odd hours.  i can use headphones, but my late-night milling around bothers some people.  i sleep until noon, unless i’m up at 8, and sometimes i’ll just sleep all day.  my body does what it wants.

in my productive times away from a computer, i’ll be doing woodworking.  this is a noisy, dust-raising process.  a sound-isolated area (corner of a garage or basement would work fine), and times when this is acceptable/appropriate are necessary for my fund-raising abilities.  in addition to this, i will be working at nearby gardens/farms/coops for foodstuffs.  i attempt to work in bitcoin, hours, and barter as much as possible.  my cash supplies are strictly limited to my survival.  that said, my resources, including my car, are available for shared use.  maybe we can co-op the fuel, even.  we’ll see what happens.

basically, i want to sit down and type up a contract, so that all expectations are clear.  no, i don’t think this is nit-picky.  i think it’s serious.  there are things about me you’ll have to understand if you want to live with me.  i will not lie about my actions (except as necessary to protest unjust legislation), and i am always open to re-negotiation.  if something isn’t working out as expected, we must be clear about it as soon as possible.  i prefer a non-time-immediate system where i can reply to daily questions all at once and not interrupt valuable working daylight hours.

mostly, i’ll go sit in coffee shops and surf the internet.  that’s if i’m not making zero-budget porn with my friends.  i love partying, but i haven’t planned a party in years.  i’m highly sensitive to douchebags (male or female, sorry, i don’t know any other word for what i’m referring to. i know it’s a coarse word.), and aggressive/jealous/fearful/lazy tendencies make me leave.  i will explain as well as i can in writing, here, but that’s a temporal thing.  i don’t always even know why i do what i do.  i’m ok with that.


Wanted: co-participators for off-the-grid materials farm.  I propose a rent-to-own deal with the owner of a downtown property that needs work.  I want to add energy generating infrastructure, community shop/design studio space, certified solar kitchen, and a full water collection system that feeds a network of indoor and outdoor (permaculture designed) plants.  I want to incorporate intensive composting, including pet and animal feces (composting toilets, litter boxes, etc.), and i want to raise chickens and pigs for farming purposes and for eggs and meat.  Pigs are cool.

I understand that a lot of this will take some time, so i’m thinking a mix of people for this kind of project will be a good thing.  i want to do shared meals like other housing coops do, but be more flexible about labor vs. cash contributions.  i know it seems like a massive undertaking, but it really isn’t.  there are templates, past models to build upon.  the primary thing is finding a property that’s conducive.  i think an old warehouse that we can add huge mechanical skylights, greenhouse space, and a combination of dorm-like rooms, barracks’-bunks, and “apartment” pods for all the preening, masturbation, reading, writing, or diddle-farting privacy you could ever want.  In-house communication system should be entirely open source.  for a medium to large house, a big power-over-ethernet switch ought to provide power and networking between thin clients, cameras, microphones, and speakers/headphone jacks.  the same function could be accomplished with a smartphone/palm/pda/newton app (fuck yeah, we’re gonna beNewtoncompatible!).

As far as the shop goes, I have a lot of wood and metal working tools already.  Ok, not a lot, but a good start for a shared shop.  the tools and operation shall be fully wikified so that everyone knows what’s there, how it’s used, and when it’s reserved/used/available.

We really could set this place up so that none of us ever see each other.  Or, so that when we do run into each other, we have actual productive things to do together.  creative things, pleasurable things, and healthful things.  sure, we can drink while we’re making dinner together.  we can fuck on my morning coffee break, too.  my ideal day has between 5 and 20 fuckbreaks.  ideal.

these are words.  in real life, what?  i follow a bunch of insanely attractive females, girls, women, and ladies on twitter.  this is all the love i require, apparently.

i’m sorting through software, finally using my new hd.  archiving.

dating.  i went on a date once.  saw schindler’s list in the theatre.  unless your idea of a date is sniffing each other out long enough to decide whether you want to go fuck in the woods, and i have never met that girl.  person.  whoever.

i’m listening to this boxxy remix again, and it’s so amazingly beautiful.  i have an mp3, so it’s not using bandwidth.  it also doesn’t include video, but the video is in my brain.  that little girl is permanently a part of me.  the song isn’t nearly as good alone, either.  don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful piece of music, but with the voice mix?  classic.

it still thinks there’s such a thing as a benefactor.  as a knight in shining armor.  as a property owner who wasn’t completely lost.  you’re the one who’s lost, son.  am i?  i’ve never been so.  found.  speaking of permanently implanted in my brain.  i’m sorry, dudes.  those are just the album copies i got first.  i’ve paid to see you live twice.  you made more off of that than what the cd sales give you, right?  well, there ya go.

plus, if you think I owe you, put me to work on your next project.  i’m fuckkin’ broke as shit over here, got no friends or family who give a flying fuck about that which i find essential, and nobody’s in the market for anything else i sell, so why not put it to dancin’.  make me flail for 8-10 hours a day.  then see what i look like.  sinewy, i think they call it.

anyway, i’m gonna start building generators and just run those all day anyhow.

knowing how to do that and being willing to let me sleep in your shop/garage/spare office would be pretty ideal.  I have a couple of tents.  An extension cord and a sink, or even a hose, i could survive just fine.  i’m quite the muse, actually.  i start working, and you can’t help but do your own thing, full-fucking-tilt.  it’s a side benefit.

untweeted (found while sorting/hd cleaning): i got on the internet to find one of you. never considered finding all of you. thanks for that.

some of my undated ramblings remind me of crazy people in movies.  i didn’t want to remember when i was writing it.  like i could forget.  those times when i’m spewing the most hurtful shit there is, i’m letting go of the pain.  i know it sounds counter-intuitive, but this is a process that has to happen.  every person i’ve wronged will have their opportunity to confront me to my face.  i’m not saying i won’t have headphones on, but that’s ‘cuz of my contract with these record labels to perform hd-worth dance moves whenever “their” music invades my eardrums.  they stole it from the actual noisemakers, but yeah, some assembly required.  copying and redistribution, too.  sabotage.  it’s quite the scam.  it’s completely fascist, but how is that different from the way you conduct business in EVERY OTHER REALM.  Lie, cheat, steal, and lie about getting caught.  You’re too exhausting to listen to.  If I’m welcome, tell me when and where.  Just because you say i am, doesn’t mean i will actually feel welcome.  but, until you say that i am welcome, where, and when, i feel absolutely rejected right now, at least by the traditionally relevant class of humans.  *sigh*  i don’t know where to go from here, either.  there are aspects of this societal re-integration that put me in a worse position than a wrongfully imprisoned person, finally being freed.  do i need to announce that i’m, not “gently used” or damaged goods or anything.? i’m more like resilient now.  think nanotube infrastructure with flexible polymer reinforcement, hydraulic assisted musculature, and plasma-chamber-bird-bone skeleton.  There’s fire in them thar limbs.

There’s maths in there, too.  Any halfway reliable motion capture suit will either track the patterns that i do, or will allow them to execute scripts.  the motion scripts combined with the brainlink attention tracking predictive launcher.  pocket computer should be light.  initial designs should integrate cameras, microphones, projectors, screens, LEDs, motion sensors, gyroscopic sensors (and/or generators), and multiple varieties of power sources.  backpack overunity magnetic motor will probably win. 😀

WordPress, smileys, yo.  can’t see ‘em yet.  I really ought to have started typing in Dreamweaver, shouldn’t I have.  meh.  i need that domain first.  then we’ll be cooking with gas.

people whose labor i now desperately need:

  • accountant
  • lawyer (property trust, business docs, filings, procedures)
  • app programmer
  • database programmer
  • web programmer
  • linux programmer
  • real estate expert
  • property/materials/cooperative scouts
  • girlfriend
  • me, to not be needy.

i’m far less functional in isolated monk mode.  on this dimension, anyway.

what do you want, now? good grammar, or good taste?
“no stems, no seeds that you don’t need, Acapulco gold is”
*puff* (low voice) “badass weed”

the point is that you never think to tell me at all.  your life is hidden, a mystery.  where are you going with this?  i’m not working with them, because they don’t want to work with me.  i have offered my services, but because of how I have been treated, that offer has been revoked.  the rest of the world is as much my family, and in my experience, those people furthest, culturally, from my own family tree tend to find more good in me than my own family does.  i don’t know how to do this.  i’m trying to re-integrate into society, and the only people close to me are all completely condescending, cruel, dysfunctional, manipulative, and violent.  family tradition.  then, they call each other regularly, to make sure they maintain the vicious cycle.  being stuck in fascist unsustainable architecture in fascist unsustainable neighborhoods sure don’t help, nor does the nutrient deficiency.  i can tell ‘cuz you’re fat and mean.  you’re like a “spoiled” (but really, hopelessly addicted) child who always gets his ice cream because he cries enough.  I don’t feel welcome at your home.  i feel like the reasons for this are obscured, projected, and confused.  What if it never sells.  What if it can’t.  What if you turned it into an urban farm and then sold it?  Businesses that feed people are worth more than just houses, aren’t they?  None of this should take very long to set up at all.  One need only participate, and it will become clear.

strict cost-cutting, a focus on infrastructure improvements that are long-lasting, heavy-traffic sturdy, and environment appropriate.  ability to improvise/recognize available materials is an essential skill.  scoffing doesn’t do anything except delay your own happiness.  why would you want to do that?  let’s go straight there.  a single mirror can reflect multiple, approaching infinity, (my guesstimate?), images, vectors, beams, rays.  the invisible who makes its presence known has foretold its own story in a glance.  dip, blush, smile.  she barely flinched!  middle of the bar, i’m all pointy and screaming “this one’s a keeper!  the most eligible bachelor best find his way here right about now!” and then I would go to the bathroom, then get another drink at the bar.  how much you wanna bet they’re engaged before i have my first sip of that beer?  you really don’t get how this shit works, do you…  stress is release.  you’re not helpless.  the stress you’re feeling is your perceived helplessness.  unlock your own self.  you’re the only one who can do it.  you have ultimate control of you, and you alone.  when you realize and address this, those around you will appear pure, functional, healthy, interactive, and most importantly, able to love you through the horribly fucked up things that have been said right here in this very world.  i barely even remember that it happened, let alone who said what, but the record’s there and i can’t argue with reality, i can only give my perspective of it.  for the most part, it’s pretty pretty.

the wardrobe.  i’ve really been neglecting my wardrobe this past season, haven’t i.  apologies for that.  regular harassment about being out, and the egotistical sensitivities that the lord maintains, despite their non-existence elsewhere in town, in my experience anyway.

diet could use some improvement, too.  i eat well, but i could use more variety, and probably less alcohol.  maybe just better alcohol.  lol.

Girl Talk is very conducive to typing.  This is lab-workin’ music, isn’t it.  Audio meth.  Look at me, busy as a bee.  Where’d i get all this energy?  Greg Gillis and his magic computadora keyboard and pirated audio collection!  Well, that’s a legal determination, much like guilt.  it really doesn’t exist, until a jury says it does.  all the armchair judges of the world really like throwing legal terms around like they’re instantly applicable once they’re spoken, but that’s not really the way the system works.  evidence rules are pretty strict, and have been refined over a long period of time.  there are systematized means of detecting dishonesty.  some of them are pretty impressive.  all can be used for good or evil.  that’s simply the nature of tools.  but, then again, the collective vector that your mind and body take when you understand larger pieces of the puzzle may open opportunities to unlock vast sectors of the planet for healthful cooperation with humans and other organisms.

what’s all this hogwash?  this is not an organized life.  this is not a collected and inter-cooperative organization, it’s the imagination of one person.  wrong, it’s the imagination of all kinds of people.  i put it together this way.  we can change any aspect of it that we want.  well, if you insist on changing certain aspects, collectively, i will leave.  these are life-critical issues.  they have to be put in writing, and i can only work with you in writing if i can work with you energetically.  we’re not there yet.  let me get back to you when we’re beta testing, or after the third draft of the landowner contract gets drawn up.  or better, i’ll go hang out with people who believe in me and love me and make enough money to buy your house from you and turn it into paradise just to spite you.  ha.  take that.  i’ll even let you live there for free.  maybe.  probably.  my predicticator is blocked with you and that place.  i’m sending reiki love to it now.  it will take its natural course.

infinite personality disorder makes for a good soldier, too.  mostly not, but the protection of archangel Michael with ninja/zen/jedi powers, and a freakin’ dna-lookin’ light saber/whip.  wave particle duality.  you’ve heard its growls.  it mostly looks like me, but with a big frightening and dangerous Mohawk and lots of henna art that morphs into tattoos as its real estate is claimed by the skin taggers of planet earth.  lots of room to work with.  all of it, really.  part of me wants to start with a grid.  circle ratios?  i’m going to need a magic mathematician to design this.  good thing we’re one of those in our spare time.  the proper channels will make themselves apparent.  our preferences are public.

more food?  ice cream?  it’s 5 pm, and i’ve been awake since 8 AM.  mostly computer work, despite a beautiful day outside.  my internal generator keeps me going, and it is a holiday weekend.  that tends to mean i hibernate.  i’m saving my energy for tour.  i have to do some fundraising and i’m not as good at that as i am at working and designing.  being “rewarded” with cash and attention and accolades has never really felt like a “reward” to me.  ‘course, that’s probably sour grapes.  or is it sweet lemons?  sweet lemons, these grapes are sour!  smoothie ‘em up with apple, banana, and melon.  all kinds.  they all lose vitamin C into the air, so you have to drink them immediately after mixing them, or cover them with an airtight lid.  jars.  i have a jar collection.  it rocks.

that’s what I gotta do, bring my own cup and spoon!  it just finalized the drill press design.  holy crap that was fast.  instantaneous download, dream-style.  full plans.  that’s fun.  i think i have interstellar open source architects helping me out in their spare time.  no wonder i’m on syrius time.  severus time?  no, not that.

holy what what, miss awesome.  do these fuel you?  do they strike a chord?  do they offer an internal dialogue that’s a nudge more sustainable?  that’s my intent.  get specific about your likes, and find the real thing of it.  there is, out there somewhere, the truth, of the real thing.  raw fresh ambient temperature fruit smoothies approach a divine consistency, and pure old world recipes made fresh will change your opinion about their modern-day high-fructose-corn-syrup imitators.  it’s like a horribly out of tune cover of a classic song.  that word reversal thing, paragraph reversal, is that because we get information atemporally, or internet style.  yes both.  sometimes we got the data as a kid, but couldn’t remember it until now.  i’m fully charged now.

i’m a music consultant, too.  i’ll suggest more bass drum rolls, blast beats, and orgasm noises.  you owe me 2%.  heh.

that?  you’re offended by that?  am i mocking orgasms? no, i’m encouraging them.  hearing them makes you think about them, and whoa.

image received:  for the show, bring a cumrag, because it will be full by the time you leave.  sorry, towel.  i guess it depends on what you use it for, eh?  i had this idea of composted human biological fluids, offered to me, then adopted by me.  i’m thinking there might be other uses for a large collection of these.  perhaps a lotion, shampoo, or cure for some awful disease.  hell, a spoonful of mixed stranger cum would probably knock an evil spirit right out of you, huh?  there, i invented a new way to do exorcisms!

that was page 10.  this is 11/11 at 1.1”.  word.  says.  so.

i know i’m hilarious, but i’m hilarious in weird ways.  if you get any of them, good for you.  if you get some, most, all, or even the unintentional overtones, undertones, and subtleties, enjoy your giggle-fits.  cripes.  where ya been all my life, boss?

it only means it’s your turn to set the tone.  if you set it to something mean, helpless, or disrespectful, i will remove myself from the tone and/or revoke the allowance of your determination.  let’s not kid ourselves, i give infinite chances.  but no one person runs across my particular path of oddliness.  good thing.  multi-threading.  she’s threading the needle.  you want phone sex, honey, or a “boy” friend.  apologies to those of you whose appearance, however little i’ve seen, triggers this self-reprimand.  i’m there.  i now seek only my energetic counterparts.

it didn’t know why so many words were necessary, but it knew that they were.  each cycle brings more details that hadn’t been apparent to the rest earlier.  there’s a crystalline structure to it

how do you measure hardness?  density by measuring weight and dimensions.  do woods even have a hardness?  it must be a separate scale.  to the internet!!!

k. posting, page 11.  food then?  k.


p.s check it.

barbershop grindcore?  yes, i think so.

~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2011-07-2 (Saturday).

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