Sad Journey Of More Lesions Than Legions…

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    I do not know how far away from the butterfly flying bee stinging years I am, but my brain has warpage. A warped mind is far worse of a problem. Take the nicest chipmunk with a flamethrower and Jason Voorhees with a toothpick… who do you want to be your alarm clock.

       Remember, Jason want to scare and rip you. The chimpmunk sees a flamethrower as a way to roast his chesnuts carefully. Now if I wanted to ebb into spiritually warped, I’d go on about types of nuts and YOU. I have a bit of demonstration in each word. I don’t like to waste them, nor be too stiff collared.

Bible spin

    What verse? Ok:

“You can be sure that such a man is WARPED… and SINFUL.”

Titus 3:11

      “Titus” is a great name. I do not remember it as a book in the bible. I do not care. I am warped. Lord help me.

Now… stop

   I hate that the word “retarded” was PC-ed out! I became (re-tard-ed) SLOWED. When the brain forms, everyone is nearly the same and deteriorate different. I am sometimes grateful that my PSYCHE is quite whipped if not crucified.

     My body below my head is weaker. Neuropaths are stopped or overactive. I have researched if it is feasible to seek death righteously. Like a woman, the bride of Christ may have a feeling but NOT REALLY KNOW what she wants like a bozo gal at the mall. And I am a guy! Its as if my king says (and woe is me if I am missing the point) “Andy, the church is my bride and YOU could say that I say, hey bizatch! Wake up.” I do not think he thought of the apostles as his biznitchies, but I bet Samson would be rolling under the rubble at the idea of how much life does suck and that we are ash compared to God!

     So there are lesions, or warping. That includes car wreck survivors, brain surgery patients, ptsd, bipolar, schizoeffective, borderline, neuro, fibromyalgia, missing an eye, inflammed, deformed, ugly, maybe smell and need to be quarantined. These are not sins. These are physicalities.

       Now murder, theft, rage, arguments, dissensions… read the bible… these are defined as the “devil’s” shop work.

     I once saw on TV a man, retarded, found guilty of molesting children as a 25 year old. At his RELEASED he giggled about doing it again. A lot like a high school young man will say, “I tapped that”. Then maybe it was a 17 yr old raping a 16 year old. God sees him brag. The girls brother is there. God actually opens it up in an arena of holy anger to have the brother flip out, but restrained by his buddies. One “crazy” buddy stabs the rapist and goes unseen and uncaught.

     Is the crazy buddy demon influenced? I am interested in ethics. Let’s say nothing is 100% perfect but the knife made the rapist less virile from fear. And the brother shows so much control in a team that he joins a SEAL team. Who knows.

     I have met a lot of warped people. Injured. Previously I met a lot of very evil people. People change. Pledging faith does not make you pretty.

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Now here is a pretty good guy. That is me. What is a me? Me is a here for you, my band of brothers. We fight not the warped in flesh but the wicked. Combine the two and you are up against a biazniazitchni of an ugly six horned DUCK. If you think I am fun, I am not. I am funny. But I will drag your heaven lovin’ butt thru or leave you laying if you screech.

     But I have seen a whiff… smelled a sight… man, a little warped but alright, knowing a bit of what challenges face this West America church. And I am gonna sit down on Sunday when I feel able. Everybody has something to bring to the table.

Spotter:

Andy Harrison
Lord’s Army
AKA Andy, Bu, Andrew,
   Geese-brick
Enlisted: 1979
First specialty:
Women’s ministries
Second specialty:
Morale
Weaknesses:
Problems with responsiveness
Linguistic drive sticks in F-bomb gear when its hot
Rank:
Generally available
Goal:
Goal is achieved sir!!
Securing the people. We really want to go home. Sir.”

Dog tags read:
Free agent
No name
No number

The name of their God will be on them. Forever they will be suspended in the best with the best of the best…

And have eternal rest.

Now…
Who wants to get some?

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Hey English Language! I Want You To Change! But I Am Only One Man

Selected Post mode: Dull

||°|°|        ||°|°|      ||°|°|      d#3?

     This is gonna make me famous… I JUST KKIILLEEDD the English phrase for “hose off” used by rich and prick. Pronounced: I LUV U.

It got so old I hemophiled it to a nilsanguine perfect dry corpse. Dracula would be proud.

    I am gonna get a Pyewlitzer….. oh boy!!!

    I am going to save the WORLD today!

How dude? 
(My robot. Just play along.)

    Well, “Bold Print Inviso-bot….. I have news.

What?

    The word “love” in English as of 0400pm Mountain Time July 29th has UNDERGONE AMPUTATION. Anglo the Angel descended to the London tower and changed the TIME. Metaphysically.

No way.

    Yes way. From now on, this sequence of words is declared “quasi-stupid”, or… so near a SIN… you should AVOID it.

Look:

Slide 1

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Slide 2

image

Slide 3

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    Do you get it?

No.

    What?

What do you MEAN? I am a ROBOT! Leave me BE. Nihilism is my nirvana.

     Wow. Who programmed into YOUR Alpha-Bits this morning?

Shuddup.

   Okay… try this. Tell me what this is:

image

Let’s see… dot, line, line, circle… “I love…”

    Go on.

No.

   Why not?

I cannot. Like Robocop cannot shoot someone who is a butt bag, my PROTOCOL will not ALLOW me to say THAT “_     _ _ _ _    _ _ _.”

  

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You see, human, a long time ago there was a group called the “Proofreadalluminadi”. They kept all evil symbols and 666s in one place like a symbolist hell. From them, an elite group of quiet masonite bloggers like Andy Harrison of Zaphanathpaneah17.wordpress.com have been working hard to save English.

    So to say “I l_ve you.” is an anathema as of today. Do you know Andy Harrison?

     Bot 34.2- I… am… Andy Harrison’s father!

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Noooo!!!!
You lied to me.

       I am my own father.

That’s implausible! Jerk!

       Hey, hey. I just have two points of view. A double tourette brain.

You said tourette.

    Yes.

That’s not P.C.

    That is right. I refuse to be like a personal computer and spew out I love yous as programmed.

Anathama alert!!

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Calling George Washington!
Mr. President? John Lennon?

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    Alo? Wuts this? I am busy.
Oh… right, right. Well its time you all SHOW love differently.
I didn’t know it all. Forget me. I did not say all you need is to talk about love. Oh forget it!

        ( heavenly woosh ! ! !)

Hey, wait!
What do we do?

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      Look, bot! A rare chance to open a door of illuminadi wisdom. Ahhh. Ohhhhh.

(Creak)

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What? You have to be KIDDING ME!!! This box was marked with a label “the secret to love” and here is this stupid apple.

I give up.

No! Wait…

    Huh?

This has a meaning…
Yes… YES… I am pulling up ancient string theory, Kabbalism, Eden, Guru, Hefty Smurf…

     Oh you’ve gone batty!

Nigeria…

    Huh?

In Nigeria they have no words for “I love you” and they love!

     Serious?

Sirius ON. Howard Stern show on porno…

     Stop.

K.

     So what now.

Dave.

    My name is not Dave.

 

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Last Halloween I wanted to be Hal. You forgot.

  Sorry.

You are an apple!

  I said “sorry”. Man!

Dave…

    Andy.

Andy.

   Yes, Hal?

You’re an apple. The apple in my one eye.

    Hal. Its time to sleep.

Andy…

   Yes, Hal?

Will I love anyone, ever?

   Hal, I suppose you have to know yourself. You cannot just say words. But Hal, you protect me. Aw!

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Hal, I do love you. I love your gentle voice. You protect us even though you may die.

ALL OF US SHOULD ACT THE SAYING, “YOU’RE THE APPLE OF MY EYE.”

|A|

Special thanks to Gweneth Paltrow whose endearing performance in Tenanbaums made me see women out there love stupid self mutilating men. Ha. No serious.

And this whole post is dedicated to Apple who is her mommy’s and daddy’s focal sweetie forever. I read you after you read me. I think…

Doesn’t matter.
I’m done. Public don’t give anything to bloggers. You all are shirt lucky I write for free. For now.

Hey English Language! I Want You To Change! But I Am Only One Man

     This is gonna make me famous.

    I am gonna get a Pyewlitzer.

    I am going to save the WORLD today!

How dude?

    Well, “Bold Print Inviso-bot….. I have news.

What?

    The word “love” in English as of 0400pm Mountain Time July 29th has UNDERGONE AMPUTATION. Anglo the Angel descended to the London tower and changed the TIME. Metaphysically.

No way.

    Yes way. From now on, this sequence of words is declared “quasi-stupid”, or… so near a SIN… you should AVOID it.

Look:

Slide 1

image

Slide 2

image

Slide 3

image

    Do you get it?

No.

    What?

What do you MEAN? I am a ROBOT! Leave me BE. Nihilism is my nirvana.

     Wow. Who programmed into YOUR Alpha-Bits this morning?

Shuddup.

   Okay… try this. Tell me what this is:

image

Let’s see… dot, line, line, circle… “I love…”

    Go on.

No.

   Why not?

I cannot. Like Robocop cannot shoot someone who is a butt bag, my PROTOCOL will not ALLOW me to say THAT “_     _ _ _ _    _ _ _.”

  

image

You see, human, a long time ago there was a group called the “Proofreadalluminadi”. They kept all evil symbols and 666s in one place like a symbolist hell. From them, an elite group of quiet masonite bloggers like Andy Harrison of Zaphanathpaneah17.wordpress.com have been working hard to save English.

    So to say “I l_ve you.” is an anathema as of today. Do you know Andy Harrison?

     Bot 34.2- I… am… Andy Harrison’s father!

image

image

Noooo!!!!
You lied to me.

       I am my own father.

That’s implausible! Jerk!

       Hey, hey. I just have two points of view. A double tourette brain.

You said tourette.

    Yes.

That’s not P.C.

    That is right. I refuse to be like a personal computer and spew out I love yous as programmed.

Anathama alert!!

image

Calling George Washington!
Mr. President? John Lennon?

image

    Alo? Wuts this? I am busy.
Oh… right, right. Well its time you all SHOW love differently.
I didn’t know it all. Forget me. I did not say all you need is to talk about love. Oh forget it!

        ( heavenly woosh ! ! !)

Hey, wait!
What do we do?

image

      Look, bot! A rare chance to open a door of illuminadi wisdom. Ahhh. Ohhhhh.

(Creak)

image

What? You have to be KIDDING ME!!! This box was marked with a label “the secret to love” and here is this stupid apple.

I give up.

No! Wait…

    Huh?

This has a meaning…
Yes… YES… I am pulling up ancient string theory, Kabbalism, Eden, Guru, Hefty Smurf…

     Oh you’ve gone batty!

Nigeria…

    Huh?

In Nigeria they have no words for “I love you” and they love!

     Serious?

Sirius ON. Howard Stern show on porno…

     Stop.

K.

     So what now.

Dave.

    My name is not Dave.

 

image

Last Halloween I wanted to be Hal. You forgot.

  Sorry.

You are an apple!

  I said “sorry”. Man!

Dave…

    Andy.

Andy.

   Yes, Hal?

You’re an apple. The apple in my one eye.

    Hal. Its time to sleep.

Andy…

   Yes, Hal?

Will I love anyone, ever?

   Hal, I suppose you have to know yourself. You cannot just say words. But Hal, you protect me. Aw!

image

Hal, I do love you. I love your gentle voice. You protect us even though you may die.

ALL OF US SHOULD ACT THE SAYING, “YOU’RE THE APPLE OF MY EYE.”

|A|

Special thanks to Gweneth Paltrow whose endearing performance in Tenanbaums made me see women out there love stupid self mutilating men. Ha. No serious.

And this whole post is dedicated to Apple who is her mommy’s and daddy’s focal sweetie forever. I read you after you read me. I think…

Doesn’t matter.
I’m done. Public don’t give anything to bloggers. You all are shirt lucky I write for free. For now.

The Waki Neeki Nu

      The Waki Neeki Nu of the press-avoidant island of cannibals and emotionally needy monkies are quite the lot! In fact, in all my years as a missionary carrying “Jedi-on-a-stick popsicles”, I have never met such a wacky religious group. The isle?- Old Zealand! Zai! Boli Oh Kai Poo!

( “Welcome… dull-minded outsider!” ) [ they roast a little. Cannibals. Abstainant hungry monastic cannibals who eat an apple as if it were a shrunken head."]

         Their religion is old but they call it Nu. I tried to explain how this is funny and get them to read the New Testament. They would not! They used the bibles as TP. Actually brother Marcus said these people cannot help but be totally “idiofied”. I checked my Oxford. Not a word, Marcus. Not-a-word-DUH!

      So we took a tour of their sewer system. Run by genetically modified nutria. I guess ancient scrolls were taken from Egypt in 5600 B.C. to Atikos, Greece. Then to Kazakistan, Tibet and then, by boat, to Old Zealand.

      The scrolls were sturdy, a little brittle and our missionary Glen Doobers from Janko, Iowa took a look see. Yep. They was a cloning! Is it the devil’s work? Hey… “L” for love… no! They were being alive in the lord. They did not need us! Hell, we needed them. Their beer is sooo damn good. Egyptian hefeweizen. Ninaski- kiss your scarab butt. I pop a cap in my tank with Nu Bee Beer.

    Its sweeter. Robust. Suffering rustic trust!

    Now their beliefs… hm. They marry themself at age 5 by swimming around the island once. Very hard. No consummation. That’s ridiculified ideology to pair a ONE! Don’t get pre-verted images. Everyone should care about themself.

      They write love letters. Not ti themselves, silly! To trees.
There’s more but that is it for now.

      Nuuuuuu!!

      NuuuuhUUUUU!!!!!

Rim Rom

      Hello. Welcome to the dusty site, “Syntaxsinner”. Things have been going on here that are not miraculous but from the El. You may say “A” or “Om” or “Omega” like
a worldview that is gaga. And get up from your rest or meditation.

     MJ was on to something when he said, “This Is It” boys and girls… because I believe in aliens and that Michael Jackson is not dead. Media showed images. You do not see what I think. I have a burden. I am not a god. Or the god of all. I am a man and I believe physics-speak leads to meta-physics and that people spend too much time working at play… and playing at work.

      Do you get that? Like a secretary who literally gives you the middle finger and you see your dumbfounded expression of “how do you not think I won’t crush you?”.

    Well Rim Rom is about crushing techniques. The battlefield is a Freudian slip of the tongue saying:

“The Weak Shall Inherit The
                     Earth”

     The giant farce is that all peoples “should” be better, give troops like we still do to causes that are blue & red. Not black and white.

      I, Andrew Harrison, do solemnly affirm as an American Citizen that I spent
3 years gathering information on a man on Facebook… who
is verifiably a resident of Khyber District. I want to sell the information I gathered.
My brother in the tribe there took me in as they were shell shocked. He has the same damn rare disease as me. Also verified by the HAEI organization presence.

    I sent to his kids to see, make-shift videos of comedy. Some portraying mean old Taliban. My health, however is so bad, and Shakeel is much younger than me. He is 30. What I mean is I “went ghost”.

      Its a new experience for me to:

(All these together)

Be ill 24 hrs/ day
Look normal
Get tumors in my feet
Stop painting work and be
     on SSDI… game over?
Looking for a way to “be” while meagerly compensated
by the gov’t SSDI program I
told Senator Merkley on e mail “I want to be all I can be.”

     After a while, I noticed on my Facebook hereditary angioedema page, a man shunned who was wearing Muslim garb. Showing relevent pictures of recuperation. He was dismissed. I was outraged.

    I befriended him. Maybe they had reasons to block Shakeel. My wife was upset with my obsession with Shakeel- that it would affect my health and it did. I found handy facts though. He takes the same red syrup for pain as I do. I do in pill form. You see, both he and I have HAE & PTSD.

      You may say, “Oh you gotta get these guys together.” No you don’t. We are of an
E.T. heart connection. Amazing talent we both had to do this.

Tonight, for about the first time in a year, I am going to say hello. We are both alive.
But the factor of Rimrom
is so strong, I don’t know how he will react. We have a connection. But I cannot SEE him and INTERFACE.

   Rim Rom is a world where there is no yes and no, right or wrong, black or white. On Rimrom people go. The quality of things and “chiva-tude” (chivalry attitude) is grasped, had and known. Weighed. Measured.

_____________________________

Story of Registered Nurse HAEI Shakeel Afridi is for sale!

It is not my “intellectual property”, folks. Its in my brain. I am obviously good at writing what I know or else I would not have been nominated for #1 with WordPress 2013 so its funny to talk like that. I feel like a brat. “My helicopter is going to blow your outdoor wedding cake away… why did you invite me?” Why are you still reading?

     Money tricks. I bend them. Not turn them. I respect myself.

    Now, I take a risk by contacting someone in a muslim war zone with American presence. Its not illegal. In this process on internet I have seen people killed. My friend and brother cried out.

     Now I must tell him an excuse of why I have not cooresponded. I want to be easy on him. The lion sleeps tonight. Oh God or Allah, I hope for Shakeel the lion sleep. And the littlest… mustafa.

     Its hard. As Americans we have grown socially AWOL. Befriending weirdos and wonders. American humanity- what are we NOW America? Its like we all have an attitude like Don King’s hair. Blown BACK. Taken aback by 9/11 and stuck.

    My war clock reads 9:12.
We are post-quasi-apocalpse. In America. We are all just a little aware. I think in my imagination I have popped thru a “side” called “other”. Not to be mystifying like a fruitcake… but why not.
Why can’t things get a little massively weird again?

       Like lithium in 7up, everywhere… killing everyone.
Is it wrong?

      Now that’s what I am trying to sell. Alternate Reality? No. Alternate Morality? No! Alternate Alternatives. Wup! Oh no you did not! Its AA. Not anonymous swiggers but shooters.

And the shooters are in me.
Sounds like I’m drunk? Nope.
I pour ideas out of my knows.

How much is an idea worth?

Nothing… & Everything

This was all I could think of
today to write, promote good things, maybe prosper financially eventually. However, money is not the product it buys or the effort or the paper its on. Its a legalized bribe.

Money is a legalized bribe.

I use it.

I also have used $3,000,000 in drugs where over 1,000 people are employed to make sure we all get it good for free. I use Cinryze. Most expensive drug in the world. Every two days. 10cc. Puts me tired.

They herk out two bodies worth of blood. You could say its like two people have to die per day for me to live 48 hrs. But since so many do DONATE, I am okay.

I am on pain meds.
Its the worst holistic hell.
Please pardon my grammer.
And my tendancy to rhyme like a hammer. That’s the F1 effect of dtm. So, okay.
I am off to get an innocent glass of water and kill it and then go to bed.

      I am not fully happy with my life. But I am holding on to my purpose. I sometimes squeeze my right hand. People cannot tell. I can. I signal myself about “rightness” and its personal. My life is very hard now. If you are reading, thank you, bless you.

     Namaste. And my anew… aple.

(Apple with one ‘p’ means BETTER than I love you if you say it, dude. It means, “apple of my eye”, pupil, vulnerable… put bluntly, it means, “with u” not “fuk u”)

Ahhhh….

The Real Davy Jones Locker

        David Shaw Jones was like any other Bostonian. He would protect women unromanticly, it TURNED THEM ON… and he was oblivious. One night, when it was quiet and he was lonely, he drew near to a beach campfire of surfers. The sky was a thick coloful bright dark indigo- as if to say there is no death in space, for the stars broke out.

      And beers were consummed. Cans thrown into the fire for “that sound” that Reichlacher makes. Its a “Hhhhieeeeeeyuop! bz bz bz bz”. And the “age 20s” set  beat boxed to it with a “nomina POOF… daddy daddy
  shake shake
waaaa oh ee ee oh!;

    Its hard to explain the new world mentality of a gangless gang- responsible, abstaining from drug. Crazy surfers. Off the Isle of Moor in the Atlantic they catch the biggest. 79 foot last year.

        I don’t know. David Jones (“D.J.” from here on)- he tried to mingle. His father owned the mortuary next to Surf World. David’s mother was very much 1 way. His father was too many ways. Sith David. M-kay, so understand he feels his family is Stephen King character material.

     David just got back a lettsr responding (King will. Others, good luck!!). So King encouraged him to live a little. He didn’t get the chance. He had four beers. Went swimming in the ocean and drowed. Everyone too drunk to do anything, he died.

     I want to tell you- the “Real Davy Jones”- David, did not cease to exist. Also his death occured after he met a nice girl and the Ex- hit him. He only wanted to be friends. So the next day, jt turns out a gramma thought all the kids- 11, were dead.

     The reason for that is that they all lay- head-to-beach, and like planking and the first she saw WAS indeed dead. David. She called the police and ran to tell her friend Mrs. Crobappletonshire (Anita Rae).

Night Of The Hell

    David couldn’t speak of the salt-water-boarding horror. He grew too tired, his blood pressure already over 200 all week- he had a stroke that kicked in while under and he never surfaced.

     I have drowned before and survived. Sounds off, but I had strange thought….. breaks in my consciousness. Only pain and fear. Personally I’d rather wear a gas mask and be immolated in Buddhist protest fashion. What’s to protest?

     Well I used to be very suicidal. My philosophy on killing yourself is exactly the same as killing others. It must be punitive. The sacrifice for misdeeds ought to cover suicide. We know not what we do. Let us forgive eachother. But if you killed everyone on Earth and got lonely, you could, as world leader authorize a trial and executiin of yourself. Witty, am I not? Usually I am… not. Hah.

     So the body was examined. Teeth embedded in the mouth (10 hits to the face. Ren had tooth marks on his fist. That is wild.

Wilder

   Wanna know what’s wilder?
David is there in a kool Omega spirit body. He can be touched. A sentinel from Lucida platoon (large seraphim. Not all visible) that sentinel explained to David (who followed God in his life) that heaven is just ending an era. Dispensation of great gifts wers back! Only now we know- angels look just like us.

David
6’3″ 230lbs.
Age at death: 25
Caucasian

The body he now had was indestructable. Sub angels like David have to leaen to feign and fake injury. They never feel pain .

    They only feel peace. So David may be in your city. Last I heard, he was a 45 yr old Cuban/ Zimbabwe tribal mix in race. He is essentially the same. Zero interest in sex. Its not encouraged as the pedigree would be someone living thousands of years. Such long life is of the olde dispensation rule and interpretation of the orthodox faith.

   David was a wild card. Would this mission distress
him? Where does he live now? Does he ever get out of here?

   One thing is for certain- David was now better looking and apparently, somehow was not without answers. A bag appeard. Freaked him out. A note on tbe bag said, “Long Live David. Your God awaits you to come to him. Your spirit revolves around one tiny molecule. We use it to project and create psuedo quasi-bodies under hist control.

   David knelt in one knew and loudly exclaimed, “Our one God is great.” And he prayed and he ran. Not sick anymore. He wondered what fun they’d
Have tomorrow as he looked in thd bag.

Loaded with C-note bricks of 100k. Total… over 1 million. He said, “How about more?”
Suddenly 50 bags dropped from a 500 foot low cloud.

What does he do? Talk to family?

“David,” said a voice behind a tree. David turned and saw an eco-duster Pinto. Obscured by the tree. He continued in a low voice, “Get the bags oved here!”

David started to help. It was a 300 lb 6’1″ Ex Lineman. He was Dead like David.

“I’m Pinto. Named after my car,” he says

David began looking for water. Pinto threw him one. “I can win a piss-distance competition. For money.

He misses homd on Earth. He misses knowing his place in the world.

It was off to the races… like a racehorse to win rare acf bets…

The Death Of Kim Jong Un

    Tonight.

    Myself and a few of my friends obtained the number on Laba Lottery winners in Argentina. From there, the data base just popped open.
We found cell phone numbers to lottery winners adding up to $453 billion dollars.

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Kara Jurukan of Illit, Finland
€ 1,400,000

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Eorsøn Taalet of Jiut, Norway
€ 12,000,000

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Taleth Avit Sabat
$ 67,000,000
(Conditional- he gets to watch us capture Jong Un. Upon capture, he wants to wear a pink dress that shows his boy parts and waterboard Jong Un with Swiss dance music. That is why he is paying so damn much.)

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Cornish Red. Algerian guitarist
No money, turning in information of Eastside tunnels of North Korea. His dad is a dictator. He says, “He is a real DICK too.”

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Sadat Abad Banlallah (Saudi)
$ 607,000,000

This baby-gasser avoided prison, drives a Lambroghini naked. We took his money because we promised to nuke his targets in Asia. Then Alan, my friend from Jr. High just stuck a pool cue in his eye. He seized and died right there in Mazatlan.

   Earth to Arab Terrorists-
You stupid dip shits. Never leave your soil. Juan Whatsinaname buried your son of Ishmael gone evil in a graveyard for dead cocks.

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TSA Anywhere USA
Contributed $ 0.00

Oh shit, really? Thanks for grazing my weiner. Hot dogs are all-American.

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Dr. Anters Hetelmetel

$45

Dr. H. paid for the original plans and had the vision of the beheading of Jong Un in the year of the Running Boy. Well, in North Korea, that is every year.

Blessing of the under the radar mission that works in tandem with the Space Administration of Kuru… tonight!

    May the Kim legacy burn in hell.

And the people said:

(Well, they have lost their voice, but …

H O W. A B O U T. A N. 
A M E N. F O R. F R E E D O M. I N N O R T H.  K O R E A ???

Hell yes!!

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         “Blea lea leah lllleahhh”

Imitation Of A Morphine Injection: You Wimps And Losers Out There Do Not Have What It Takes To Do This So Don’t Bother To Read This On How To Hyper-jack Your Muscles Into Synthasizing Opiate Experience Because You Romantic Pansies Just Want Sex And Are Too Stupid To Get Ultra Zen

    I had such pain so as to surrender. Trouble was- no enemy to surrender to for mercy.

“Dedicate EVERY way to the lord, and he will… ” … (be there).

      My scripture knowledge is decimated. My blood condition has wrecked my memory, attitude habits.

     My pain tolerance is dying into a lack of tolerance. I imitated the somatics of a “deadly thing” to get out of fibro pain. I adapted my progressive relaxtion to be ONE, UNIFORM, and FAUX RIGOR MORTIS. Imagine how extremely tense rigor mortis is. I can do that as a living person. I call it rigor vitalis.

Rigor Vitalis

Laundry list of muscles you tighten all at once:

Feet: extend, toes in fists, TOES FLEXED planters tight

Calves tight
Squeeze quads
Hips 100% forward
Butt flex 100%
Stomach tightest

Shoulders flung back
Squeeze shoulder blades
Head thrown back as if “possessed”
Face squeezed tight

Arms:
Hands tight fists
Wrists bent to capacity
Tricep tight, forearm burning tight
Fingers flexed- all TEN

Chest flexed

Stage II of RIGOR VITALIS

-flex all of the above into a frozen dead position

-hold for 60 seconds

-If it burns, that is GREAT!- the goal is to get a relaxation after 4x 90second “flexes” that imitates morphine!!

-It hurts
-It IS work
-Natural Morpeus-path

   Note:
Morpheus is like the grim reaper or death. Morpheus is the dream god in lore. Sleep and death are related in kaballah, christianity etc.

Black Acid Reigning

   Tom and I were on a fishing boat flybridge, far out in the ocean, but we were waiting for our friend Glenn to join us in his ship. Suddenly it seemed we were falling. In actuality the boat had been taking on water from a leaking ballast containment and, because the boat tipped back and then rocked, the deadly waters just poured in, eating up space.

    We were able to climb down, take a few things like a radio, life preservers, the dingy… but Tom said, “Aw this fuckin’ boat! Damn! Damn! Damn!”. And I’d say, “Alive… alive…”, and Tom said, “Yes-?”- and I said,

“We are sinking slowly, man, but focus- if you get mad and kick something- you may slip and k.o. and then drown. Or you may get your laces stuck… and drown. Let’s untie the dingy and get back NOW before the ship pulls us down. There are sharks.”

   There weren’t sharks.

    Tom said, “Shit! What kind of sharks???”

    He got into the dingy.
I grabbed the fridge, threw in into the sea… the beer cooler.

   “No sharks,” I said. “Beer sharks.”

    Tom was in the dingy. I climbed back to the flybridge and all the way up the look out post.

    The boat below was completely submerged and started going down at two feet per second. Pretty soon it was just a whirlpool, a white post with ladder rungs and me at the top of ten feet, facing away from Tom.

     Tom started screaming. I yelled, “My shoelace is stuck.” I gripped the post and went down into the icy ocean. I thought I would be screaming at the top of my lungs, because I WAS joking. But I decided to hold on.

      I held on, closed my eyes tight. I could tell the boat was sinking faster. My ears started to hurt.

      I thought I went under 70 feet. No. It was more like 10 or 20. I let go. It took the longest 30 seconds to surface I swam hard.

Tom Tells His Perspective

    I was worried about Jim hanging on. He surfaced finally. I thought I lost my friend.

     Back in the dingy, Jim told me he came fishing with us and why.

     Jim started sobbing. By the time we were talking, I got the radio going. Glenn was 20 minutes away. I made Jim drink a bit, and even tied his feet in. From the way he was talking, he still wanted to die.

         Jim described something terrible. His wife Holly had a baby over a year ago. After the delivery, things changed. Holly would not sleep with Jim. After over a week of what felt like Holly HAD BEEN CHEATING ON HIM, he pushed her against the wall. Holly started screaming and crying.

    Holly punch the mirror and the words just formed on her lips: “My gynecologist raped me before I gave birth to Katie…”

    Jim fell to his knees in front of her, saying, “So now you reject ME? I will put him in the trunk. What is his name?”

    Jim realised the gynecologist… was a large shouldered woman from Texas. No… hell no… no… no no no no no

      He said, “What… happened?”

      Holly said, “I don’t remember.”

     Jim said, “…….WHAT?!?”

     Holly screamed, yelled, threw things, scowling STRAIT at Jim… looking him in the eye.

     Jim screamed, “That was not your fault… but… you know what? Fuck you! You don’t deal with shit.”

     Holly, Jim, back and forth screamed “Fuck off”….. Jim felt a pull… an ancient urge to… hurt himself with a knife or gun or beat his wife to a bloody pulp, kill himself, agh! NO!!!! No no no…

    He ran, Holly hit him. He shoved her back, got his truck keys…

    Jim left.

Glenn calls

   Glenn called on the radio. He was delayed.

A new boat

    Just then a boat with 6 females on it was nearing. Jim forgot that gynecologist liked marlin fishing. It was HER. Oh crap! In a blue boat.

     Suddenly, one of her five female friends (all age 15 & 16 from Girl Scouts) caught a marlin. The girls cheered.

     However, a baby Great White leaped into the air and was 10 feet long and SNAPPED its jaws around the upper thigh of big ol’ Dr. Patty Doolittle.

     Dr. Patty’s femoral artery squirted blood. The shark fell back into the sea. All the girls were unharmed and unTOUCHED by the perverted doctor.

     Jim, who had 20/20 vision, saw it all. He yelled “apply pressure” but the girls were too dumb and overly bleach blonde to help.

      Jim jumped over, swam… but Poor Doctor Psycho died. Jim insisted they give her “air”- knowing she was dead and put her body at the front end of the boat. The girls stayed at back.

     Jim took a crow bar and hit the body about 300 times, then tied a weight to the leg and chucked her overboard. But not without SKINNING a tattoo off that read, “I love fresh girls”. He put the bloody skin in his pocket.

     Out at sea, the Great White finishing eating the bitch. Then I suppose she went to talk to God. Who cares. I don’t.

Glenn shows up

  The girls were not sad. One girl said, “She tried to touch me funny. This morning. I am glad she is dead.”

   Glenn was like, “Wow… look at all the hot girls. Suddenly, 45 year old pervert Glenn had a Great White MOTHER shark eat his entire boat. Glenn died. In hell, he met the lesbian assaulter and they tried to “do” each other. Then they were sent to the second inferno… then the third… all the way to Hell central. They were made for each other and for eternity scorpions stung them in their most sensitive privates and blow torches cooked them.

     No. Well, yes and no. They got 5 minute breaks to build false hope.

Note: The author hates it when people in authority abuse trusting folk and turn THEM into sinners too. I mean, at THE VERY LEAST an assault victim drinks. Statistically, a dui drunk victim will kill someone. So an adult who rape assaults an adult should be executed. The husband wants suicide or homocide. Why not allow some “cide” and give husbands a break from kill duty.

     I know 3 people I could kill who hurt women I dated. I will not throw away my life and go to rape prison.

Moral:

Earth sucks.

Someone! Blow it away! Please????

Mercy to all, in all seriousness.
Mercy if you behold the cross.
If you turn NOW, In the second Earth, if you did felonies here- you will NOT there.

Praise God in the highest ways.

We are all under dark sin rule.
No human is fine-clean and another garbage.

But a child of God is fine clean. Puts garbage far away.
Spiritual pure essentially really absolutely there is hope.

Story based on true story. Not the shark part or crowbar part. That is fantasy anger for unfair unresolved offense. Sorry if that offends. Women can, at a rape level, assault another woman. There is a REAL gyn out there, uncaught.
I pray she be tripping on the shit she makes. She ruined my life. I never met her.

I believe in YHWH
I believe in woman rights!!
I believe God avenge

I stay the shitty do out of his way….

Killing Ego In Selfies

    I like taking pictures of the person I seem to be working on and… with a lot. Its an illusion… or not… that Mr. I
exists in me-form.

    Here I am as me as I took light snap digitized rebitchwhipped version of that sexity manliness that the I in I in me becomes a foo doo who:

       A. Harrison. Age: 40

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(Note to reader: I was really tired. This will make sense or not. I am not correcting it tonight. I was at ER for 9 hrs. I received IV meds, pain relief. I don’t want to live like this. The philosophy I read now is the highest level on death avoidance and occupations. Thank you if you have read this because its written by a guy who wishes to be free and their is guilt there. Bur answers.)
I thought stories and live were dying. Not once, but a million times. Language hides privacy and privately wise wizards hoard salvations…

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I hate the game

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I am king of this game. The pieces are my blood. The board is my skin. Ikeep the dark game within. I do not want to be touched, sought, feared, revered. I want to fly away.

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Colour

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I wish others loved as I do
That one should celebrate that there is a count to the hairs of one’s eye brow… even if you are missing that eye. Inventory.

Holy inventory of the image of the body form that it bestowed to us “and stuff” the literal or “matrix-warped” shape of God we are.

We move within, yet stand.
Blood.

We accept and reject.
Air.

We move but do not change.
Transport out spirit.

We are gods and yet dependant on the one “only” God.

We decay, yet even the modular representative body that is mortal is spectacular.

One human face observed tells a story billions of times odder than a planet with ONLY gas, rock, water.

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Sigh

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Can God ever see himself?
Is that a problem?
I do not have independant power that I would swim the ocean for half a mile out and falter, sink, flail, suffer, drown, die, sink…………

I cannot get out of prison alive if in prison.

How would I die and get out of the ground? Oh do I ask them please do not cremate me or lock me in a coffin-my body?

These things and questions are stupid of me. A display.

Absent from the body…
Present with the body crafter…

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When I die, I will be in a room.
Not on Earth. Beyond. I will find a very handsome person welcoming me.

Matters of male, female… WHATEVER… the person greeting me will be able to TOUCH ME. I will not disintegrate.

Sometimes I think of it like a friend who never let me down. Unafraid to hug. Not homophobic. I am not phobo hobo hamo.

I just never had the chance to meet who loved me. I feel it must happen.

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Say if I were to die NOW
My brain goes cold.

Do we wait for a bible miracle?
No. Law says you have 24 hrs in Oregon to give the body to a coronor/ funeral home! Home, not coronor. Kidding.

My wish is to have my body taken to Seaside, OR in a truck, wrapped (& weighted later) and dragged to sea by jet skis to the 2.1 miles from shore mark. That would save my widow $40,000 and its legal. Burial at sea. I almost drowned. In my end, it can have me. Its personal.

Burial on land.
Is against my wish.
My wish is that first 24hrs, its legal to have a corpse. It is not me. So hide it Dexter style kids. Ride the jet skis naked and on fire if you like.

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The thing is, I will be transported. The world is real but not 100% real. Its actually very fake. Hasnt anyone noticed the dying, chaos? Engines break down. The world here is wacky.

I hold that even though I am 40… I will soon enough be like 20 again. But not here.

I imagine my grandmothers are in their 20s, observing things worlds away

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Is an imagination good?
I think the meaning of the word “hope” is “go ahead and imagine a way in, out… just imagine GOOD.”

A.Harrison

Sigh