title

truck stop office.  saw a “progressive” commercial.  that’s a make-up ad/company, no wait telecom/consumer-products?  no, guns?  it’s a mercenary service?  no, brands are lifestyle programming.  they’re just telling you that if you insure yourself, all those other insured/licensed people will protect you if you ever “accidentally” (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) destroy the property or lives of any unlicensed or uninsured.  these are the unclean, no?  the undeserving.  mmm, ketchup.

ooh, adt.  it amazes me how much “progress” each of these aspects of the monster can be forced upon these un(are they?)willing souls in here.  fooding.  brb. 4:34 pm.

4:48 pm, and all is swell.  there are a couple of gentle children with wonderful laughs in here.  i think it’s good that well adjusted people come out in public, though i find it offensive that big brother is already here.  that’s the only thing that keeps y’all peaceful, isn’t it.  if the means of physically destroying you weren’t within a moment’s notice, you’d flip out and kill any who would challenge the authority or wisdom of this region, area, lifestyle, or society itself.

so, not only do they broadcast the violent, racist things, but they then repeat the words “racial slurs” over and over and over.  hey, get the opinion of the person on the street about that.  only ever about the awful, the useless, and the cruel/violent.  brutish to the nth degree.  the girl who has the same glasses and hat as me is leaving.  thank’s for watching me eat my criss-cut potatoes, dude. 😀

why am i spending money on decaffeinated coffee and fried potatoes?  well, because i like them, and i hadn’t been out of the house in a while.  i maintain ties to car culture, to television culture.  i have the feeling this is revealing of my ultimate purpose.  ☯

how are we not verging on unification?  how does every scripture and legend not converge, at this very point, not only in the progress of the planet as a whole, but in the mindset of each and every human soul which inhabits it.  personally.  how long will the alarm continue ringing in your face as you pretend to be asleep?

being taught by the birds is fun.  well, the birds and power lines.  ok, the bird, along with my sight-lines, through the power lines, as a music staff, to a tree.  the analogy was a change in scale.  same note, or variation, but much lower than its earlier path.  compositions do this parallel to one another all the time.

on research:  why must we re-find these things?  how many ways can they be hidden, done in secret, and when will we have reached the point where since too many of them have already been revealed, the profit in keeping any of them secret no longer remains?  well, until we reach that point, i remain dictator.  this planet had a rather large power void, and you honor me with your attention.

all is within each and every cell and atom.  my imbalance is its imbalance.  i may be merely a counter-weight.  that’s fine.  i’m not there.  i am here.  i am here to go over, in the same room as i wrote them, the notes of my initial reiki initiation.

i do not have the funds to hire others to purify myself sufficiently.  i must obtain that from another way.  if your battle-plans do not culminate in the production of paradise, as you see it, you are not a fit commander, general, or official at all.  if you cannot see the end, sit down.  now we’re choppin’ on the root.  it’s diseased beyond recognition.  the one with whom the project has granted authority over the material, the very matter of the thing, does not believe that it can “succeed.”  therefore, it cannot.  the rest of you drunkenly congratulate one another, while the space itself remains lifeless and dying, until interaction with the war machine and its minions completely destroy it for good.  how?  by turning the infrastructure corporate.  you only allow certain types of approved actions in certain areas, so any person of talent in anything spends most of their time communicating daily details to uncaring cogs whose opinions and expertise are disrespected at such a fundamental level, their contribution is only appreciated as much as these horrible excuses for organizers can conceive of.  let’s just say, not very much.

if you tell me my views are “extreme” as an excuse to stop listening to me, you are merely a diseased religious fanatic.  why diseased?  because religion itself claims enlightenment at the same time it maintains hierarchy.  hierarchy is only an analogy of function, not of priority or worth.  each and every essential function is top priority, and each and every inessential is distraction and maintenance of the constantly attacking machine.

i watched planet of the apes today, the original.  i really dislike charlton heston.  i suppose he’s a decent enough actor, but he’s an unabashed brute.  these are always the ones who are rewarded, isn’t it?  those who will wield the gun like the soldiers of the “republic.”  the words are so messed up now, nearly every transaction, if you view it through the lens of big brother (and, lord knows you do), requires a contractual negotiation to ensure fairness.  you know how you can tell who the brutes are?  they refuse to come to the table.  they keep all of theirs locked, out of fear that they be used by another.  oh, what a wicked disease is this ownership, whether over other humans, animals, or various states or densities of matter itself.  water?  carbon?  fibrous interactions at molecular levels.  are rocks so really different from metal, plastic, or paper?  only in degree, no?  wouldn’t the technology that created this place have full control of that?  oh, but it does.

tooth and claw will be quieter than most restaurants.  i think it should be completely portable.  the script should be by person, so that they know, as they enter, what they are to do.  there is no such thing as an improper time to arrive, but the architecture itself will dictate flow, progress, movement.  those who find this unacceptable shall be loved until their differences of opinion are understood, loved, and integrated into the whole system.  if they have such fundamental differences in the means of operating the process, they automatically become the manager of a fork of that process.  they make take assistants, followers who agree with their means, methods, or differences from the primary mechanism, but their contribution shall be respected equally to those who operate as a cog within that mechanism.  the fork shall then evolve as a back-up, a slightly different redundancy, with its own experts, and with equal documentation and reproducibility as the primary model/process/script/architecture.  or, it exists only in theory, and its inventor seeks within itself that drive which caused it to reject the society-provided path to survival.

i keep thinking about going back to the bar where i once met a landowner who offered to help me, then failed to honor the commitment he had made.  this happens a lot.  i must do this a lot.  it’s the culture.  i must be one of its defenders.  i see use in it, in even this anti-communication communication.  i think that’s a double-negative, or a double positive, or a triple salchow.  something.

the proper channels are all poisoned and filled with traps.  look.  ask anyone who has tried to navigate one.  it’s all useless.  there is no honor in any existing structure on this entire retarded planet.  those healthy structures have no need for such a shallow thing as “honor.”  does a leaf take pride in its sprouting from a stalk?  it is a functional addition, and its contribution is integrated.  this violence, the dark side of the force, ironically, calls all that it rejects “dark matter.”  by their counter-intuitive, counter-growth, counter-expansion cult, even by their own descriptions, 98% of all existence is unaccounted by their theories.  no, they’re not theories, if they’re the basis for the authority of all the real-world violence itself, they simply deny 98% of the world, and force all to comply with this ignorance, upon force/threat of death.

these were its favorite campaign stops.  sitting quietly, finger-pounding its laptop while the most capable humans of its blast radius were treated as second-class citizens, as they proved this production.  i may ask her out today, or put the offer on the table, at least.  no better way to make someone bolt than by putting expectations upon them.  this Iranian ninja women story is on cnn now.  it’s beautiful, in a sense, but schooling gentle people in violence is a… oh whatever.  it’s a perfectly legitimate response to the violent, male aggression that exists there just as it does over here.  it’s telling that the man highlights the necessity for any group of the baby incubators of the species to learn deadly attack, stalking, and defense maneuvers.  what, you take pride in this?  ooh, look at these women, standing up for themselves.  right.  they’re not rejecting the violent oppression paradigm, they’re integrating into it.  and, they’re from the heathen other-religion-run far-away land that we all know “we”’re about to bomb a whole bunch more than we already have.  esploshions.  holy advanced species.  any time their holy leaders have a problem with the thoughts, ideas, or communications of another set, they set fire to earth, sky, organic matter, and flesh.  you, human, are a brutish thug maintaining this planet’s awfulness.

a 1988 D penny sits before me.  i found it on the floor.  copper, or a shell of it, covering a core of nickel, i believe. Lincolnwasn’t a savior of the blacks, he was one.  lemurians.  moors.  atlantean nubians.  indigenous peoples of middle earth.  i mean no disrespect in any of the terms i choose to use.  that is not entirely true.  i wish to mock those who create hierarchies of worth between or amongst individuals of these places, or of different appearances or functions of any type.  i also wish to show the similarities of all-too-many of us, who respond to, use, or identify with even the “joking” use of these terms.  how does your utter lack of respect translate to laughter, again?  your every interaction mocks my gentleness, [re]productive ability, and the pain that i express under these torturous conditions imposed by this unavoidable infrastructure.

human rights.  that is the only issue.  the respect and understanding of the increased effectiveness of each and every species, including the human beast itself, at each expansive and expanding level of biodiversity has been apparent to the concealers of truth since they were forced underground.

one of the parts i enjoy most about traveling around in this human meatbot form is that with a certain set of representative acts, one can garner the “respect” of those around you.  what does that mean?  it means that they will allow you to occupy the same space, and do that which you are sent here to do.  most of the time, it is maintenance of one’s own survival.  people gather for food/fuel/learn/“work”ing.  this last one, “work” is as much in need of [re/de/di]vision as worship.  warship?  there are parallels.  if a species were trained in peaceful interaction from the beginning, hoarding would be unnecessary in the first place.  this means that the races which provided us with their technology, or who created us in the first place (well, what’s the difference, really.  if we were technically deficient brutes who only worked with the plant matter that was here.  oh.  hmm.  well, that’s a whole other inquiry, sorta.  regardless, whether the alien races who built the pyramids and were known as gods to us here designed and built us or merely set us on the path of our current evolution, they are our creator/masters) had not yet mastered this disrespectfulness within the hierarchy.  i keep going back to AVP, that movie, because i recently downloaded a better copy than the super-dark cam version that made its way into my dvd collection during my short but wonderfully glorious time as a legally paying resident of stevens point.

i filmed, produced, and manufactured my first dvd about five years ago.  anybody that i showed it to quit speaking to me.  with one exception.  ok, they’re all exceptions.  none of them ever “spoke” to “me” in the first place.  they disrespected me just like they do the rest of their shallow, moronic human brethren.  watch planet of the apes again.  pay attention to the last scene, where heston gets a gun and ties up the old ape official.  the disbelief and shame at the reversal of these disrespectful ways of controlling other conscious beings is, what?  telling?  great analysis, professor.  telling of what?  it’s analogous of the way our society treats the dirt, the stalks, the trunks, and the meat-flesh-bots of other shapes and sizes.  these “beasts” as you call them communicate with one another, and with diverse species, non-verbally.  through communications transmitted by sight, silently through the air itself, or through the interaction with/near larger masses of matter/organisms/species.  6:15 pm.  breaks.

you know what it is?  that which shows its speed and understanding of wave-particle duality.  that is in charge.  natural law dictates this.  none of the relevant infrastructures on this planet reveal this.  i have a cut on my middle finger, at the first knuckle, and i don’t know how it happened.  either i did it to myself upon this landscape, or another wanted to alert me of something.  it looks of a paper cut.  i don’t think it was the hand dryer, and neither the soap dispenser, sink, or urinal requires contact for interaction.  i know only that i am unqualified for anything, and therefore an expert of everything.

right, don’t go out in the fray if you don’t want to get sliced.  look, if none of the dominant institutions claimed moral superiority, i wouldn’t have to constantly prove them wrong.  if they provided a peaceable means through which one could support their own survival, i would gladly take that path and grow old as a farmer.  the meatbot has already sealed the wound and cancelled the pain signal.  dictator will likely trim the sliver of excess skin back at the nest.  that sounds better than cell, doesn’t it?  it does.  natural growths fill to expand the space they are given.  when disrupted, they take the path of least resistance, and bypass the diseased or blocked area.  successful maintenance of living structures involves first a removal of the cause, and then a clearing of the diseased tissue.  if healthy tissue is not there, we remove the impediment.

it was a spell, cast from afar.  i wonder if its castor even know that it was levied upon us.  she did.  it worked, and it was withdrawn as soon as it did.  the difficulty in transition to balancer is resisting the urge to fall back into comfortable surroundings.  yes, at some level i know how those social structures operate as well.  i call them “competitive relationships” and you can see what i mean in the controlling acts and disrespectful looks between humans in the short films commissioned by pharmaceutical companies.  the “erectile dysfunction” set are particularly distasteful.  the brutish slobs whose improper action with all that is good in the world has caused their very bodies to cease functioning, except unaided by small, expensive magic spells obtained by highly trained and paid specialists who see the world only through that lens.  do they?  the rich ones do.  you know who gets rich.  those who are best at dragging the party line.  if you’re not, you not only don’t stand a chance, but you will be ridiculed at every step of the way, by every other person you encounter on that violent institutional path.  it’s a lonely life for one who understands how very unhealthy it is.

then again, i’ve heard it said that no matter how much the tv and its co-poisoning information channels claim, the real economy is at work, is functioning at least healthily, if not thriving at unforeseen levels.  it has been driven back, concentrated, and scattered to the wind.  like any other living substance, however, it gravitates to itself.  it collects up with others who have felt that very living vibe, and who know the joy that it creates.  superjoy.  uberbliss.  and we come to the hathors.

tom kenyon introduced me to them, through a recording that i pirated from a friend of my mother’s, called “hathor meditations,” which begins with an explanation of his human/western expertise, and moves into a description of his initial encounters with these beings.  they have been working with me ever since.  they have not made their presence known to me.  i have asked them to work silently, like a backgrounded process.  they’ve been mistaken for giants, angels, and etheric warriors.  they are all of these things.  they recognize their traits, skills, and abilities in others.

for indeed, these are the those who will assist in the implementation of the broadest, borg-like reforms of communications and decision-making.  when a new species lands on nearth, and asks to be taken to its leader, the nearest agent of the protectorate summons the oracular (the all-knowing data warehouse).  turns out, by sheer force of genius, our most productive, and therefore “leader” is a child in an isolated village on the opposite side of the world.  if you have the means to get there, i can provide you with coordinates.  otherwise, we have a local affiliate which can provide you with analogous insight, shared energy production means/stores, and nutritious su[b]st[a/e]nance for your jouney.

Animal Collective – college.  the lyrics go, “nuh uh.  nuh uh, ah ah ah.  nuh, uh, ah uh ah.  nuh uh ah, ah.  you don’t have to goooo to colllledge.”

may i reiterate, i can design a curriculum for any of this, to any one person, in as much detail as i am given time to explain.  yes, i could and have conveyed the basics within the space of an hour.  nay, within a tweet, a sentence.  i am the only adherent to the protectorate fork.  are we really calling it the neighbor/hood protection agency?  shortened to “the protectorate.”  apparently.  the agency, we’ve called it that, too.  are you aware that this terminological change will have in the minds and hearts of those who read this?  yes, absolutely.  not in specifics, as you know.  in generalities.  the teammates get feisty and disrespectful, but the entire culture encourages and promotes that, so there’s nothing anyone of more gentle means can do or say about it until the beast calms itself.  that’s how most of your energy is spent, in this violen[t/ce]-containment structure.  it’s a madhouse, a madhouse.

i was invited to the riots by a funded, long-time “organizer.”  i don’t understand why.  i haven’t spoken to him in person since law school, and our interaction on facebook has never been direct.  do you want me to speak, dude?  to yell and scream into a microphone, to mock the entire “history” of your glorious revolution?  to critique your methods, spending, and movements, out loud and in front of everyone.  it’s gonna hurt, i promise, if you are capable of being hurt by honest words, and believe you me, i know that you are.  i call horses horses, sheep sheep, swans swans, and pixies pixies.

paper skin, dark hair, and physically and mentally stout offspring.  the soldiers of this realm are held in high regard by dictator, as the title would imply.  that role is not one taken lightly, and it has run many a gauntlet in its day, or at least marveled at those who can/do.  it is not a spirit, it is a movement.  physical motion.

and as far as movement goes, none are as sustained as the dictators.  none, in all of history.  none goes back as far as infinity, and none looks ahead as far.  in that way, are we not a fractal?  indeed.  in. deed.  if blocked, like any other living thing, we go where nutrition is available, and where fertile ground will allow health to take root.  where is that?  not on this planet.  like i said, the founders of this very society, its very gods, have not accomplished this task.  what information need be conveyed?  an intelligent system does not ask that question, it gets directly to work conveying that information.  if the destruction of thought-form is the only result of interaction, as has been the case with 100% of interactions with living human beings, the fractal goes within.

while wandering about the dilapidated ruins of capitalism that it wishes to re-invigorate, it did this very thing.  it directed its attention, it turned its all-seeing eye inward.  bio-chemical processes kicked in, collapsing space-time inward.  humans, animals, and electrical infrastructure glitched universally as a result.  the machine resets with every interaction, because its previous lies are revealed with each encounter.  it re-lies the foundation over the bones and rubble where it previously destroyed its detractors, along with its own flawed and short-sighted “technology” which it implemented so very recently.  speaking of recent implementations, the owner just waddled by.  he’s nice enough, i suppose, as capitalists go.  he probably took a momentary pay cut to re-do the bathroom, but in doing so put it right next to the gambling/“game”/smoking room, so that one must interact with smoke in order to urinate.  yes, i have very specific problems with damn near every point of interaction with this disease you call progress.  i have solutions to all of these, as well.

gossipy, empty outwardly-beautiful, but plastic people who look similar to the exploited dead show up upon their death, in droves, and roll their eyes and say “i told you so” about meaningless distractions which programs nearly all of the otherwise useful humans to focus on destructive nothingness rather than peaceful interaction for the purposes of cooperative survival.  it give us a skeletal adjustment there.  dictator did.  meatbots within the blast radius like that.  comfort and safety of the visiting shamyn has been ensured/displayed.  it drops seed everywhere.  every one of them that sees, hears, or feels its very wavforms is infected.  witness.  if you won’t put a microphone into the hands of it that types these words, when the event uses one, quit inviting it.  all you do is complain of the shortcomings of those participants who have been given the right to take on those “elected” roles, and the capable people don’t actually run, because they can’t actually lie that well, but while they know that’s not an actually good way to run a system that determines these kinds of things in the first place, they are frozen in useless loops of the past, turning into a noisy pack of children, screaming/feeding/inflating as scripted.

each of your pathetic little egos swells up to a disgusting balloon of lard, and the sound you make, collectively, is one devoid of nutrition and health.  it contains only the malice with which you have been inflicted, and the desire to not have that any more.  that’s as far as any of you go.  shut this one off.  give us a good person, who does these things that this machine says it does.  do you see how these actions do nothing but support this entire infrastructure?  you even bring your meaty selves to their killing fields, with elevated firing positions and blood-draining channels disrespectfully mocking the rivers, streams, veins, and arteries of mother nature herself.  quit glorifying concrete formed into fascism.  the stone-cutters only imprison, and until each and every one of them comes to belief of this on their own, and as a complete reversal of all that they have been trained as “holy,” this horrible violent thing that you have set up shall remain.  the mountains shall continue being leveled to parking lots, further destroying not only the opportunity for fruitful multiplication under a useful design, but anything that happened there by chance without any “human” interaction in the first place.  let grow that which grows there.  that which can will “pave the way” to use one of your brutish clichés, for that which we want to grow there.  large, life supporting instruments (trees) are placed in optimal locations, and every other plant is placed in detail designed to exacting local standards.  by the time you’re planning down to cubic centimeters, you will understand this algorithm.  may you reach that point blissfully intact.

need i say more of the hathors?  they are the species which designed us.  the skeletal body is an organism.  the neurological body is an organism.  the heart-pump is an organism.  these are all complimentary, and occupy the same flesh-suit, which is also another cooperative organism we call our skin.

nuclear power.  what a brutish waste.  it’s just more lighting stuff on fire.  and then using that to boil water.  no, we can’t use more stable means of this, like the water hammer heater, because that disproves our horribly moronic religion.  call it overunity, but this under-unity retardation is really pissing me off.  that, or i really have to pee.  go. then.  k.  7:35 pm.

its most recent theory is that the “air-blade” hand dryer itself did the cutting.  or, re-opened the cut received earlier.  it hurts again, after a trip to the bathroom and a hand washing.  the spell caster doesn’t like it when i leave this room.  the scent of soap in the hand-soap here is one of the only downfalls of this office.  i could bring my own, as i could bring my own food spices.  there are multiple reasons this doesn’t happen.  1) so that i notice and learn about the existing infrastructure that everyone else has to, or chooses to use.  if we ever go to prison, personal inspections will be the only reason, and we will enjoy our time there as much as we are capable.  as with any other interaction about the planet, we will inevitably earn the respect of the most talented and hardest working, and will freeze the violent reactionaries in their tracks, out of immediate recognition of their own apparent sin.  sin is merely a lack of understanding.  that which happens is, necessarily, in concert with the designs of the all know-ing, all seeing.  we plink along, choosing our own path about the plinkyscape.  some of us recognize its multi-dimensionality, making your travels between power-nodes look rather indirect compared to the crow’s flight we see.  if god made humanity in its own image, god is a violent fucktard.  humanity makes god in its own image, and the quality of each human is only as good as its conception of the infinite.  if it doesn’t have one, it is lying to itself, or, like the machine’s “science,” it just writes that inevitable physics right out of the script.  ok, so your “system” is able to re-prove itself within a limited and controlled state of interaction, but that removes all of the relevant factors.

i think the scientific cultists would receive great benefit from learning provided by the religio-spiritual cultists, and vice-versa.  your silence, my isolation, is so frightfully disrespectful that i should have, in all rights and fairness, have eviscerated my meatbot in full view of as many of you as possible by now, just to prove my monken point.  yah, right.  take the man’s violent ending out?  not a chance.  that end will be inflicted upon me by another or not at all.  if we have our way, it will be by the supreme authority.  and, probably, at the hand of one of its most violent and least thinking.  that is your dream?  to be publicly executed by a rogue cop?  not a rogue cop, the court-sanctioned executioner, or the button-instigated firestorm of a drone strike.  as if all of its soldiers aren’t drones now.  remember the cloning of the tall skinny race from that movie?  they took out the argumentative gene.  perfectly designed soldiers.  designed down to the molecular/genetic level.  or, maintained at the dna level by interaction of bio-mechanisms, normalized transmissions, embedded catch-phrases (you’re caught!), and “ratings” or censorship infrastructures.  these are designed into your language.  you know how they operate, but you don’t even realize that this is what you are doing.  you do none of the things you claim to try, but you enforce the status quo, the stasis, with your skepticism.  your doubt.  doubt enforcement, that’s all you are.  any philosopher will tell you, there is no cure for the skeptic.  concluding merely, “i don’t believe you, you haven’t convinced me” is a stopping of the conversation.  it is a backing away from the negotiating table, and an order to the big guns now trained on the void left by your departure to fire at will.  again with the fire.  you’re fired.  that’s your only solution, defenders of the explosive faith, to set aflame that which displeases you.  what displeases you?  damn near anything that explains to you how lighting everything on fire isn’t the best way to interact with living stuff.

i’m going to do some reiki review now.  8:02 pm.  done. 8:08 pm.  good notes review.

“I would not interfere with any creed of yours or want to appear that i have all the cures.  There is so much to know… so many things are true… The way my feet must go may not be best for you.  And so I give this spark of what is light to me, to guide you through the dark, but not [to] tell you what to see.” ~unknown, quoted in “Arnold” p. 17

dictator is a good distiller.  he has no fear of any humans, even those in power.  judges, cops, owners.  it has studied the rules under which they are required to operate, for there are both useful analogies and corollaries of interaction from and within these all.  distilling terminology between languages is something beyond translation.  one must understand not only the rules within the structure of rules, but also the reason for it within that structure, its analogous thing, and the importance granted to it within either of these systems.  not to mention that no system that provides for interaction between consciousnesses is without the interaction of those conscious entities themselves.  selective enforcement is the worst-case-scenario of this, but anywhere there is a lack of love for the process itself, there will be a lack of understanding and therefore an inability of the user, the participant, to use the function as it was intended by the designer.  one must also take into account the possibility that the designer itself did not have pure intentions, pure love, pure understanding, of all those results of this rule, pattern, or path, either.  all laws are god’s laws.  and they reveal the quality of the gods.  mostly, they reveal the completely misplaced assignment of “godliness” in the first place.  what is god, but the result of anything, taken to its logical conclusion, to its nth degree.  does that make sense to you?  taken to its logical conclusion, the analysis either leads to an infinite regression, an infinite progression, or an explosion of poison, a cancer being a good analogy.  bad, ill-formed, non-conductive tumors where healthy tissue ought to be.  yes, under this analogy, it is argued that those such as myself are the cancer.  being that “cancer” is a highly sophisticated micro-organism capable of transmission through a wide variety of mediums, and able to manifest itself in a number of forms, i take this as a highly respectful compliment by wholly ill informed combatives.  thanks, sheeple!

i should probably leave soon.  why?  this decaf is bottomless, and another batch of fries might do us good.  we’ll see.

post in the morning?  yeah, probably.  go meet up with the drunk?  tonight?  we’ll see how we feel when we get in the car.  good answer.

[editorz wrote: do you think they’ll realize this rant got continued yesterday, but posted tomorrow?  perhaps, but the words have love, so i think we’ll all be ok.  i agree.]

i like working for/with u,
t

Advertisements

~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2012-02-20 (Monday).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: