Sunday, February 28, 2010
Live for that Day
(9)
Heavy painful left-rear skull sensations as I wrote the previous blogpost convinces me that the (tap) Piece of Jewish Dogshit living in 203 (next door) has been aiming a 'microwave cannon' at me from the hallway next door. It is the closest point from which 'they' can zap me. Fortunately, my Thick Irish skull has protected me! (faint boom.) I hate 'Jews!' I especially hate that piece of Jewish Dogshit living next door.
Do you also hate Jews?
Welcome to the club. (But keep that 'information' to yourselves. You are surrounded by Jews, and they do not like you at all. Furthermore they want to destroy you. I know, you don't know. Kiss Jewish Ass as necessary but be ever alert for the day when the tidal wave of antisemitism will overwhelm all Jewish resistance. Live for that day!)
0117L. Kootch just walked by after peeing. Booze gone. Time to eat at 0124.
Nighty-night.
Heavy painful left-rear skull sensations as I wrote the previous blogpost convinces me that the (tap) Piece of Jewish Dogshit living in 203 (next door) has been aiming a 'microwave cannon' at me from the hallway next door. It is the closest point from which 'they' can zap me. Fortunately, my Thick Irish skull has protected me! (faint boom.) I hate 'Jews!' I especially hate that piece of Jewish Dogshit living next door.
Do you also hate Jews?
Welcome to the club. (But keep that 'information' to yourselves. You are surrounded by Jews, and they do not like you at all. Furthermore they want to destroy you. I know, you don't know. Kiss Jewish Ass as necessary but be ever alert for the day when the tidal wave of antisemitism will overwhelm all Jewish resistance. Live for that day!)
0117L. Kootch just walked by after peeing. Booze gone. Time to eat at 0124.
Nighty-night.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Enjoy!
(8)
I loved this series of interviews with the British Philosopher, A. C. Grayling. What interested me especially was the discussion of 'Epistomology' (no, not that). Indeed, 'Epistomology' was what attracted me to philosophy in the first place. I was totally fascinated by the first book I read on the subject, which discussed the philosophy of perception. I was astonished by what I read: A 'cold, smooth, tabletop' was not really 'cold and smooth' but was actually a sensory construct based on 'sight, feel, and touch.' And furthermore, all 'senses' (sight, feel, and touch - to name a few) were only 'perceptions.' The 'real world' - whatever that might be - was unknowable because human knowlege was based on 'sensation.' The 'thing in itself' was forever ultimately unsensible, unknowable. The World was therefore an eternal mystery! We live in a 'world' which defies understanding. We can never really 'understand' our world. Never. Ever.
My 'Acid experiences' during the late '70s totally confirmed that hypothesis.
And yet we live our everyday lives in a continuous state of 'normalcy.' Oblivious to our 'mechanisims of perception,' we breeze through our days and nights uncritically naive. We waste our lives through ignorance, not realizing that 'life' has no 'purpose' at all. We fail to see that life has no meaning at all, and that we should simply enjoy the moment. Enjoy!
But instead we suffer (Heavy DPR from 203. My left skull aches.) from our ignorance.
I loved this series of interviews with the British Philosopher, A. C. Grayling. What interested me especially was the discussion of 'Epistomology' (no, not that). Indeed, 'Epistomology' was what attracted me to philosophy in the first place. I was totally fascinated by the first book I read on the subject, which discussed the philosophy of perception. I was astonished by what I read: A 'cold, smooth, tabletop' was not really 'cold and smooth' but was actually a sensory construct based on 'sight, feel, and touch.' And furthermore, all 'senses' (sight, feel, and touch - to name a few) were only 'perceptions.' The 'real world' - whatever that might be - was unknowable because human knowlege was based on 'sensation.' The 'thing in itself' was forever ultimately unsensible, unknowable. The World was therefore an eternal mystery! We live in a 'world' which defies understanding. We can never really 'understand' our world. Never. Ever.
My 'Acid experiences' during the late '70s totally confirmed that hypothesis.
And yet we live our everyday lives in a continuous state of 'normalcy.' Oblivious to our 'mechanisims of perception,' we breeze through our days and nights uncritically naive. We waste our lives through ignorance, not realizing that 'life' has no 'purpose' at all. We fail to see that life has no meaning at all, and that we should simply enjoy the moment. Enjoy!
But instead we suffer (Heavy DPR from 203. My left skull aches.) from our ignorance.
We Shall See
(7)
Beginning beer #12 at 2204L. My advice to Gerash? 'Get help.' You need to operate the way other human beings operate: 'adjust to the world.' Your attempts to 'adjust the world to you' are doomed.
Last beer. Hmm. Fun time. Tonight's panties are size 13 white cotton briefs, bought recently from Wal-Mart. Both waist and leg openings seem appropriate, but they are otherwise huge, especially buttwise. Made in Thailand. I love Thailand! I recently peed in a pair of these panties (stomp) with 'satisfactory results.' Speaking of which, maybe next week I will be in the mood to describe in detail my feelings and sensations as I pee in my shorts while blogging. Maybe not. We shall see. I also bought a 5-pack of size 13 hi-cuts. Lots to look forward to.
Last swallow of beer at 2233L.
Only whiskey left (Canadian Mist). Ok, ok. I will now do one double shot of Canadian Mist in honor or our Canadian friends to the north. Standby... I love Canada so much!
Sip. (at 2249L) Yum. Listening to this gloriously beautiful music. It's all downhill from here. Nose dripping. ('Tap' as I clear out nasal passages.)
Beginning beer #12 at 2204L. My advice to Gerash? 'Get help.' You need to operate the way other human beings operate: 'adjust to the world.' Your attempts to 'adjust the world to you' are doomed.
Last beer. Hmm. Fun time. Tonight's panties are size 13 white cotton briefs, bought recently from Wal-Mart. Both waist and leg openings seem appropriate, but they are otherwise huge, especially buttwise. Made in Thailand. I love Thailand! I recently peed in a pair of these panties (stomp) with 'satisfactory results.' Speaking of which, maybe next week I will be in the mood to describe in detail my feelings and sensations as I pee in my shorts while blogging. Maybe not. We shall see. I also bought a 5-pack of size 13 hi-cuts. Lots to look forward to.
Last swallow of beer at 2233L.
Only whiskey left (Canadian Mist). Ok, ok. I will now do one double shot of Canadian Mist in honor or our Canadian friends to the north. Standby... I love Canada so much!
Sip. (at 2249L) Yum. Listening to this gloriously beautiful music. It's all downhill from here. Nose dripping. ('Tap' as I clear out nasal passages.)
The Rest is Gravy
(6)
Been listening to 'antisemite music' as I wrote the previous posts. Naughty me.
Which brings us to that point where my current blog objectives have been accomplished, and 'the rest is gravy.' Sipping beer #10 at 2045L. (Sip, sip.) My life is gravy.
Gravy mixed with microwave radiation (face rad) as I type this after blowing out huge quanties of snot. Eyes watering slightly, especially the right eye. This is my life and I am determined to enjoy it - otherwise, why bother?
Which brings us to Gerash. I'm buzzing my brains out. I'm feeling the love (especially from my female interests) and I am temporarily incapable of hatred due to my current inebriation. The result is that I can write about Gerash with a certain amount of detachment. So why not?
----------
Gerash is psychotic. He is a victim of obsession. But that is only the beginning: Gerash cannot 'enjoy the gravy of his life.' I noticed that about Gerash back in the days of (tap) the DCC. After (or during) the Friday Night 5-minute chess tournaments Gerash would leave, and the rest of us would drink beer, smoke Pot, and generally struggle to finish a game of blitz, totally stoned and enjoying each and every second of the process. Then we would play another game, stoned, and the game would seem to take hours - while lasting 10 minutes at most. It was such fun.
But Gerash worried. Gerash worried about small things. What do other people think? What do they think about Gerash? Gerash had a hyperactive dread that other people did not like Gerash. And he was right! The result was that Gerash could not 'be himself' at those glorious friday night get-togethers. Gerash can never 'be himself.' Never. Ever. I never saw him take a drink. I never observed Gerash enjoy anything - except possibly the time when he told me that he had enjoyed watching my most recent game. I had lost that game. He smiled. His breath stunk. Indeed, Gerash defeated me in only one chess game. He asked for a draw, but I could see that his position was far superior and I therefore declined his offer. I thought perhaps that winning a game against me might soften his attitude. I was wrong. Amazingly, when I resigned, Gerash seemed unable to enjoy his victory!
Gerash's problem is that he respects other people. Why? Because as he observes other people he realizes that they are far superior to him (emotionally). The result is that he tailors his life such that nothing can be proven against him as he attacks other people. Gerash hates other people, therefore he attaches undue importance to the opinions of other people. (Go figure.)
A 'psychiatric evaluation' of Gerash would certainly include, 'Erotomania' and 'Personality Disorder.'
I, on the other hand, unlike Gerash, understand that other people are idiots. I therefore do not fear the opinions of other people.
Been listening to 'antisemite music' as I wrote the previous posts. Naughty me.
Which brings us to that point where my current blog objectives have been accomplished, and 'the rest is gravy.' Sipping beer #10 at 2045L. (Sip, sip.) My life is gravy.
Gravy mixed with microwave radiation (face rad) as I type this after blowing out huge quanties of snot. Eyes watering slightly, especially the right eye. This is my life and I am determined to enjoy it - otherwise, why bother?
Which brings us to Gerash. I'm buzzing my brains out. I'm feeling the love (especially from my female interests) and I am temporarily incapable of hatred due to my current inebriation. The result is that I can write about Gerash with a certain amount of detachment. So why not?
----------
Gerash is psychotic. He is a victim of obsession. But that is only the beginning: Gerash cannot 'enjoy the gravy of his life.' I noticed that about Gerash back in the days of (tap) the DCC. After (or during) the Friday Night 5-minute chess tournaments Gerash would leave, and the rest of us would drink beer, smoke Pot, and generally struggle to finish a game of blitz, totally stoned and enjoying each and every second of the process. Then we would play another game, stoned, and the game would seem to take hours - while lasting 10 minutes at most. It was such fun.
But Gerash worried. Gerash worried about small things. What do other people think? What do they think about Gerash? Gerash had a hyperactive dread that other people did not like Gerash. And he was right! The result was that Gerash could not 'be himself' at those glorious friday night get-togethers. Gerash can never 'be himself.' Never. Ever. I never saw him take a drink. I never observed Gerash enjoy anything - except possibly the time when he told me that he had enjoyed watching my most recent game. I had lost that game. He smiled. His breath stunk. Indeed, Gerash defeated me in only one chess game. He asked for a draw, but I could see that his position was far superior and I therefore declined his offer. I thought perhaps that winning a game against me might soften his attitude. I was wrong. Amazingly, when I resigned, Gerash seemed unable to enjoy his victory!
Gerash's problem is that he respects other people. Why? Because as he observes other people he realizes that they are far superior to him (emotionally). The result is that he tailors his life such that nothing can be proven against him as he attacks other people. Gerash hates other people, therefore he attaches undue importance to the opinions of other people. (Go figure.)
A 'psychiatric evaluation' of Gerash would certainly include, 'Erotomania' and 'Personality Disorder.'
I, on the other hand, unlike Gerash, understand that other people are idiots. I therefore do not fear the opinions of other people.
Forewarned is Foreskinned
(5)
Time for a Green Onion Article. Here is the situation. A reporter from a New York City newspaper, a certain Shawn O'Malley, decided to investigate the article cited in the previous post to the effect that the American Academy of Pediatrics was interested in cutting up hot dogs for the sake of young children. O'Malley, a circumcised American-Irishman was struck by the bizarre nature of the report given that the AAP also favored universal infant circumcision. Could there be some connection? Did the AAP have an unconcious circumcision fetish? He decided to investigate, and toward that end he secured an on-camera interview with the head (eheh) of the AAP, a certain Judith Palfrey. His secret mission: to expose the AAP plot to mutilate America. His secret mantra: 'Forewarned is foreskinned.' The unsuspecting Doctor Palfrey agreed to the interview intent on pressing her agenda. The interview follows.
----------
so: Thank you for agreeing to this interview.
jp: My pleasure.
so: To cut right to the head of this, I was fascinated by the recent AAP discovery that young children were choking on hot dogs and that the AAP was concerned.
jp: Wieners.
so: Our readers called in by the hundreds, fearful that their young children might choke to death while eating hot...
jp: (interrupting) Wieners.
so: ...dogs, and wondering exactly how small the hot...
jp: (interrupting) Wieners.
so: ... wieners should be cut. Can you enlighten us? Quarter inch squares?
jp: Eight inch squares. Small enough for a toothless child. And that's 'wieners.' And furthermore parents should be trained in the heimlick maneuver before administered hot... wieners to their defenseless children. That is the official AAP position.
so: Thank you very much for this candid interview.
jp: Is that all?!
----------
Time for a Green Onion Article. Here is the situation. A reporter from a New York City newspaper, a certain Shawn O'Malley, decided to investigate the article cited in the previous post to the effect that the American Academy of Pediatrics was interested in cutting up hot dogs for the sake of young children. O'Malley, a circumcised American-Irishman was struck by the bizarre nature of the report given that the AAP also favored universal infant circumcision. Could there be some connection? Did the AAP have an unconcious circumcision fetish? He decided to investigate, and toward that end he secured an on-camera interview with the head (eheh) of the AAP, a certain Judith Palfrey. His secret mission: to expose the AAP plot to mutilate America. His secret mantra: 'Forewarned is foreskinned.' The unsuspecting Doctor Palfrey agreed to the interview intent on pressing her agenda. The interview follows.
----------
so: Thank you for agreeing to this interview.
jp: My pleasure.
so: To cut right to the head of this, I was fascinated by the recent AAP discovery that young children were choking on hot dogs and that the AAP was concerned.
jp: Wieners.
so: Our readers called in by the hundreds, fearful that their young children might choke to death while eating hot...
jp: (interrupting) Wieners.
so: ...dogs, and wondering exactly how small the hot...
jp: (interrupting) Wieners.
so: ... wieners should be cut. Can you enlighten us? Quarter inch squares?
jp: Eight inch squares. Small enough for a toothless child. And that's 'wieners.' And furthermore parents should be trained in the heimlick maneuver before administered hot... wieners to their defenseless children. That is the official AAP position.
so: Thank you very much for this candid interview.
jp: Is that all?!
----------
New Neighbors?
(4)
Beer #7 at 1835. Somebody moved out this afternoon. Somebody is moving in tonight under cover of darkness. Light-colored SUV. Upstairs. #304? There has been noise above within the last 15 minutes. We shall see... Quiet as a mouse in heat now... no rad from above... (stomp).
SUV gone at 1852L. Quiet above.
2022L and the light-colored SUV is back. No license plate (tap). 'New car' temp number instead. This is very typical: Gerash always buys them a new car. I have noticed this for the last 20 years.
Looks like maybe Monday will be Training Day? We shall see...
Beer #7 at 1835. Somebody moved out this afternoon. Somebody is moving in tonight under cover of darkness. Light-colored SUV. Upstairs. #304? There has been noise above within the last 15 minutes. We shall see... Quiet as a mouse in heat now... no rad from above... (stomp).
SUV gone at 1852L. Quiet above.
2022L and the light-colored SUV is back. No license plate (tap). 'New car' temp number instead. This is very typical: Gerash always buys them a new car. I have noticed this for the last 20 years.
Looks like maybe Monday will be Training Day? We shall see...
Escape!
(3)
Time get serious. Link Dump time:
New Jewish ruling forbids woman to have teeth straightened with braces. Huh? (IRFS from 203 just after I wrote that!) Bizarre. (Now heavy 'face rad:' mucus flow requiring nose blow, and tearing in both eyes. Could only have come from 104 ('vacant') or 304.)
American Academy of Pediatrics seeks to protect children from hot dogs. Recommends cutting them up. Eheh.
Senior Tokers Turn to Pot! (Notice the ratings at the bottom of this article.) I must admit that as I watch the Marijuana Revolution unfold here is Denver I would dearly love to smoke a toke after 4 Natural Lights. But that would end my blog for the night with unforseeable posts followed by munchie time. Maybe some day... I hope... (Another nose blow but not much tearing.)
Speaking of Pediatricians. Some of them are not very nice people. The lesson seems to be that you should never leave your child alone with his or her Pediatrician. Never. This advice, it seems to me, applies especially regarding your male child, and especially if the Pediatrician is Jewish, and especially before you leave the hospital after giving birth. Escape!
Finally, How Fleas Travel. Funny.
Time get serious. Link Dump time:
New Jewish ruling forbids woman to have teeth straightened with braces. Huh? (IRFS from 203 just after I wrote that!) Bizarre. (Now heavy 'face rad:' mucus flow requiring nose blow, and tearing in both eyes. Could only have come from 104 ('vacant') or 304.)
American Academy of Pediatrics seeks to protect children from hot dogs. Recommends cutting them up. Eheh.
Senior Tokers Turn to Pot! (Notice the ratings at the bottom of this article.) I must admit that as I watch the Marijuana Revolution unfold here is Denver I would dearly love to smoke a toke after 4 Natural Lights. But that would end my blog for the night with unforseeable posts followed by munchie time. Maybe some day... I hope... (Another nose blow but not much tearing.)
Speaking of Pediatricians. Some of them are not very nice people. The lesson seems to be that you should never leave your child alone with his or her Pediatrician. Never. This advice, it seems to me, applies especially regarding your male child, and especially if the Pediatrician is Jewish, and especially before you leave the hospital after giving birth. Escape!
Finally, How Fleas Travel. Funny.
Big Rots
(2)
Been reading my recent (since mid-January) blog posts just now. Much giggling as usual. Such fun when I'm buzzed! I was slightly horrified to discover that I had briefly described a pants-peeing episode. Well, since I've already described it I may do so again in greater detail. Maybe, butt not tonight: not horney due to three orgasms this week (when you're suffering, orgasms help). But stay tuned...
Very strange happenings just now: a child or two or three were running around in the apartment above. Same thing yesterday about this time (the log note reads 1719L). What makes this interesting is that there has been no such activity for at least two months - even though a woman and a child moved in originally. (Thump above me just after I wrote that.) She drives a green SUV which I have not seen for that same period of time. And by the way, I have detected no radiation since those 'demonstrations' began. Same as yesterday. I just checked the parking lot for the green SUV. No joy. All is quiet now at 1704L.
Kootch and I recently interacted (about an hour ago as she was cooking): she bought a new foam pillow and she loves it. She bought it at 'Big Rots.' 'Big Rots?' said I. 'Yes. Big Rots. Real deal.' She showed me the large plastic baggie from 'big rots.' She was totally oblivious to my obvious parroting of her slightly botched english. Such a fun woman!
Still no detectable radiation; not at all uncommon on booze night while I write my blog.
Been reading my recent (since mid-January) blog posts just now. Much giggling as usual. Such fun when I'm buzzed! I was slightly horrified to discover that I had briefly described a pants-peeing episode. Well, since I've already described it I may do so again in greater detail. Maybe, butt not tonight: not horney due to three orgasms this week (when you're suffering, orgasms help). But stay tuned...
Very strange happenings just now: a child or two or three were running around in the apartment above. Same thing yesterday about this time (the log note reads 1719L). What makes this interesting is that there has been no such activity for at least two months - even though a woman and a child moved in originally. (Thump above me just after I wrote that.) She drives a green SUV which I have not seen for that same period of time. And by the way, I have detected no radiation since those 'demonstrations' began. Same as yesterday. I just checked the parking lot for the green SUV. No joy. All is quiet now at 1704L.
Kootch and I recently interacted (about an hour ago as she was cooking): she bought a new foam pillow and she loves it. She bought it at 'Big Rots.' 'Big Rots?' said I. 'Yes. Big Rots. Real deal.' She showed me the large plastic baggie from 'big rots.' She was totally oblivious to my obvious parroting of her slightly botched english. Such a fun woman!
Still no detectable radiation; not at all uncommon on booze night while I write my blog.
Worst Night Ever
(1)
First sip of beer at 1503L. Yum. I'm back a day late due to heavy nighttime 'microwave cannon' attacks. I probably should have done this session a day early (as last week) but decided to use the extra day to prepare. Bad idea, resulting in not enough sleep Thursday night due to radiation. (We need some music to go with this sob story: Mozart Clarinet Concerto II.) So I deferred blogging until today in hopes of being in better shape. Worse idea! After going to bed at 2100L I was forced to endure four and a half hours of heavy radiation before I could get to sleep around 0130L. (Quality of consciousness has changed now at 1535L after one Natural Light.) There followed periods of sleep interrupted by the need to get up and pee every two or three hours, after which I would fall back asleep only after enduring more radiation. The final result was that after fifteen and a half hours of constant, more or less intense radiation I 'resurrected' at 1230L having got about seven hours of sleep. My log comments, 'Worst night ever.' (More music: Mozart Sonata in C. It was a really bad night.)
So. How did your night go?
First sip of beer at 1503L. Yum. I'm back a day late due to heavy nighttime 'microwave cannon' attacks. I probably should have done this session a day early (as last week) but decided to use the extra day to prepare. Bad idea, resulting in not enough sleep Thursday night due to radiation. (We need some music to go with this sob story: Mozart Clarinet Concerto II.) So I deferred blogging until today in hopes of being in better shape. Worse idea! After going to bed at 2100L I was forced to endure four and a half hours of heavy radiation before I could get to sleep around 0130L. (Quality of consciousness has changed now at 1535L after one Natural Light.) There followed periods of sleep interrupted by the need to get up and pee every two or three hours, after which I would fall back asleep only after enduring more radiation. The final result was that after fifteen and a half hours of constant, more or less intense radiation I 'resurrected' at 1230L having got about seven hours of sleep. My log comments, 'Worst night ever.' (More music: Mozart Sonata in C. It was a really bad night.)
So. How did your night go?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Me or Jesus
(7)
I realize, of course, that you girls out there are totally thrilled by my characterization of Jesus as an oxymoronic foreskin-restored horney fucking Jew. You go to sleep at night (tap) fantasizing about being fucked by Jesus. I know you. Be advised that I do not want to spoil that for you. No way am I interested in interfering with your pre-sleep fantasies. I love you girls. Always have. Always will. I would only suggest that you modify your fantasies to substitute me in place of Jesus: I really want to fuck you all silly! Jesus... maybe not...
Time to wrap this up.
Nighty-night girls!
Tonight's panties are size 13 Fruit of the Loom, Fit For Me, blue nylon spandex. Made in Jordan.
Viva Jordan!
The outstanding quality of these panties - which I wore on a recent shopping trip - is that they have a huge rear gusset line. I was so aware of the fact that if I 'bent over' in the presence of other shoppers there was a good chance that they would 'cough.' (Cough=suppressed laugh.)
Good night and good luck.
I realize, of course, that you girls out there are totally thrilled by my characterization of Jesus as an oxymoronic foreskin-restored horney fucking Jew. You go to sleep at night (tap) fantasizing about being fucked by Jesus. I know you. Be advised that I do not want to spoil that for you. No way am I interested in interfering with your pre-sleep fantasies. I love you girls. Always have. Always will. I would only suggest that you modify your fantasies to substitute me in place of Jesus: I really want to fuck you all silly! Jesus... maybe not...
Time to wrap this up.
Nighty-night girls!
Tonight's panties are size 13 Fruit of the Loom, Fit For Me, blue nylon spandex. Made in Jordan.
Viva Jordan!
The outstanding quality of these panties - which I wore on a recent shopping trip - is that they have a huge rear gusset line. I was so aware of the fact that if I 'bent over' in the presence of other shoppers there was a good chance that they would 'cough.' (Cough=suppressed laugh.)
Good night and good luck.
Pussy.
(6)
It dawned on me during my conversation with Jesus that he needed to put into the nearest port in order to recuperate from what must have been 'excessive reincarnation.' Jesus was, at the time, in the constellation Centauri and I therefore steered him toward Lucifer's domain on an Earth-sized planet orbiting an ancient red dwarf star at about 33 million miles. Jesus dialed in the coordinates; the spacecraft responded, with the result that Jesus will arrive near Hell during this Year of Our Lord, 2010. Eheh. Whoa! I needed to contact Lucifer! No way could I allow my friend Jesus to arrive in the vicinity of Hell unannounced! I contacted Lucifer on the Brown Telephone:
----------
lu: Hello?
me: Jesus will arrive in orbit around December of this year.
lu: Ha, ha.
me: This is not a joke. I am serious.
lu: This presents complications. Thank you for advising me.
me He fell afoul of the laws of physics.
lu: Too fast. Been there, done that.
me: Correct.
lu: Be advised that we will not tolerate any attempt by Jesus to broadcast our galactic location.
me: I understand and will pass that information on to Jesus.
lu: Excellent. Advise Jesus, furthermore, that we have a sophisticated system of defense.
me: I will.
lu: So that we will have something of a 'head start' concerning what to expect from Jesus' most fervent needs, wants, and desires after he arrives in Hell, we wonder. Can you enlighten us?
me: Pussy.
----------
It dawned on me during my conversation with Jesus that he needed to put into the nearest port in order to recuperate from what must have been 'excessive reincarnation.' Jesus was, at the time, in the constellation Centauri and I therefore steered him toward Lucifer's domain on an Earth-sized planet orbiting an ancient red dwarf star at about 33 million miles. Jesus dialed in the coordinates; the spacecraft responded, with the result that Jesus will arrive near Hell during this Year of Our Lord, 2010. Eheh. Whoa! I needed to contact Lucifer! No way could I allow my friend Jesus to arrive in the vicinity of Hell unannounced! I contacted Lucifer on the Brown Telephone:
----------
lu: Hello?
me: Jesus will arrive in orbit around December of this year.
lu: Ha, ha.
me: This is not a joke. I am serious.
lu: This presents complications. Thank you for advising me.
me He fell afoul of the laws of physics.
lu: Too fast. Been there, done that.
me: Correct.
lu: Be advised that we will not tolerate any attempt by Jesus to broadcast our galactic location.
me: I understand and will pass that information on to Jesus.
lu: Excellent. Advise Jesus, furthermore, that we have a sophisticated system of defense.
me: I will.
lu: So that we will have something of a 'head start' concerning what to expect from Jesus' most fervent needs, wants, and desires after he arrives in Hell, we wonder. Can you enlighten us?
me: Pussy.
----------
Slowing Down
(5)
----------
me: You need to rotate the spacecraft 180 degrees such that the thrusters are slowing you down.
js: O-k-t-ake-me-a-mi-nni-tt. Why?
me: Your high speed is killing you. You need to slow down.
js: Do-ne. G-for-ces-sl-am-ed me a-gai-nst-the-wa-ll.
me: That was expected. Your condition should improve as you slow down.
js: I can al-red-dy fe-el a dif-fer-ence.
me: Excellent. How's the 'restoration' going?
js: I-am-all-done.
me: Can you last long enough to orgasm?
js: No-way!
me: The situation will improve as you slow down.
js: Go-ody.
me: I think you need to divert to the nearest friendly starbase.
js: Wha-tev-er you-say-is-fi-ne-wi-th-me.
me: Your new destination is an earthlike planet orbiting a Red Dwarf star in the constellation Centaurus. I am uploading the coordinates now.
js: th-th-th-ank you.
----------
----------
me: You need to rotate the spacecraft 180 degrees such that the thrusters are slowing you down.
js: O-k-t-ake-me-a-mi-nni-tt. Why?
me: Your high speed is killing you. You need to slow down.
js: Do-ne. G-for-ces-sl-am-ed me a-gai-nst-the-wa-ll.
me: That was expected. Your condition should improve as you slow down.
js: I can al-red-dy fe-el a dif-fer-ence.
me: Excellent. How's the 'restoration' going?
js: I-am-all-done.
me: Can you last long enough to orgasm?
js: No-way!
me: The situation will improve as you slow down.
js: Go-ody.
me: I think you need to divert to the nearest friendly starbase.
js: Wha-tev-er you-say-is-fi-ne-wi-th-me.
me: Your new destination is an earthlike planet orbiting a Red Dwarf star in the constellation Centaurus. I am uploading the coordinates now.
js: th-th-th-ank you.
----------
I Will Never Abandon You
(4)
Enough with all that 'serious stuff.' I'm too buzzed. Timeout for some fun stuff. Lessee...
I am a huge fan of Cosmic Log, MSNBC's premier science blog. I never fail to read it. You know that. But while reading it this week I stumbled upon this article which alarmed me. 'Alarmed' may be too mild a word, actually, because the article electrified me in a most unpleasant way. WTF?! Lightspeed kills instantly?! I was horrified. I called Jesus immediately.
My longtime readers know that, from time to time, I talk to Jesus on the Brown Telephone. Indeed, I have uploaded 'softporn' to Jesus from time to time. Jesus loves me. But my last conversation with Jesus indicated to me that maybe Jesus was becoming too dependent on our personal connection. He expressed an alarming committment to the effect that, 'I will never abandon you.' Whoa. Never? Sounds like a marriage to me. And I'm already married.
The result is that I have been avoiding Jesus lately. I have not been calling Jesus on the Brown Telephone. However the article spurred me to communicate. I dialed Jesus'number:
----------
js: Hel-lo?
me: How's it going out there?
js: No-t-too-go-od.
me: What's the problem?
js: I'm dy-ing th-en re-su-rre-ting. I vi-bra-te in an-d out of ex-is-ten-ce. Ve-ry un-com-for-ta-ble. He-lp me.
me: Ok. I understand your problem. Your problem is caused by your extremely high speed. You need to slow down. Do you understand?
js: I un-der-sta-nd.
----------
Enough with all that 'serious stuff.' I'm too buzzed. Timeout for some fun stuff. Lessee...
I am a huge fan of Cosmic Log, MSNBC's premier science blog. I never fail to read it. You know that. But while reading it this week I stumbled upon this article which alarmed me. 'Alarmed' may be too mild a word, actually, because the article electrified me in a most unpleasant way. WTF?! Lightspeed kills instantly?! I was horrified. I called Jesus immediately.
My longtime readers know that, from time to time, I talk to Jesus on the Brown Telephone. Indeed, I have uploaded 'softporn' to Jesus from time to time. Jesus loves me. But my last conversation with Jesus indicated to me that maybe Jesus was becoming too dependent on our personal connection. He expressed an alarming committment to the effect that, 'I will never abandon you.' Whoa. Never? Sounds like a marriage to me. And I'm already married.
The result is that I have been avoiding Jesus lately. I have not been calling Jesus on the Brown Telephone. However the article spurred me to communicate. I dialed Jesus'number:
----------
js: Hel-lo?
me: How's it going out there?
js: No-t-too-go-od.
me: What's the problem?
js: I'm dy-ing th-en re-su-rre-ting. I vi-bra-te in an-d out of ex-is-ten-ce. Ve-ry un-com-for-ta-ble. He-lp me.
me: Ok. I understand your problem. Your problem is caused by your extremely high speed. You need to slow down. Do you understand?
js: I un-der-sta-nd.
----------
Fucked Up America
(3)
It's the money, honey. There's an old saying about marriage to the effect that, 'The one who has the pussy makes the rules.' Maybe so. The same principle applies to American politics: The ones who have the money (to corrupt government officials) make the rules. Jews have the money, therefore Jews make the rules. I offer the following Goggle/Wiki link in support of my thesis:
Jewish Political Organizations.
Look that up. Now do a Wiki (or Goggle) search of, say, Catholic Political Organizations.
No joy? Ok, try Protestant Political Organizations. Barf. Hmm. Maybe 'Jewish' refers to 'tribe' instead of 'religion.' So lets do a search of (American) Irish political organizations. Hmm. It would seem, from the results of those searches, that Jews are extremely 'political.' Surprise, sur-fucking-prise! Whoever woulda guessed?!
The lesson, of course, to all you idiots out there who are wondering why America is so fundamentally fucked up, is that Jews own America. And Jews are fucked up, therefore America is fucked up. (Check the nearest fucked up penis for more evidence of this conclusion).
It's the money, honey. There's an old saying about marriage to the effect that, 'The one who has the pussy makes the rules.' Maybe so. The same principle applies to American politics: The ones who have the money (to corrupt government officials) make the rules. Jews have the money, therefore Jews make the rules. I offer the following Goggle/Wiki link in support of my thesis:
Jewish Political Organizations.
Look that up. Now do a Wiki (or Goggle) search of, say, Catholic Political Organizations.
No joy? Ok, try Protestant Political Organizations. Barf. Hmm. Maybe 'Jewish' refers to 'tribe' instead of 'religion.' So lets do a search of (American) Irish political organizations. Hmm. It would seem, from the results of those searches, that Jews are extremely 'political.' Surprise, sur-fucking-prise! Whoever woulda guessed?!
The lesson, of course, to all you idiots out there who are wondering why America is so fundamentally fucked up, is that Jews own America. And Jews are fucked up, therefore America is fucked up. (Check the nearest fucked up penis for more evidence of this conclusion).
Link Dump
(2)
Beginning beer 4 at 1542L. Time for a link dump:
Puddle Thinking. I love that! Is it a simple way to describe 'The Anthropic Principle?'
6 Human Character flaws That Saved the Species. Funny.
Insane Manifesto of Joseph Andrew Stack. Tragic.
The following links are from the same website:
Why Jews Don't Move to Zion. America is The Promised Land.
How the Jews Took Washington. George W Bush, Ignoramus.
Why Jews Support Black Causes. Jews need allies.
Why I Left Judaism. 'Something was missing...' (part of his penis).
How Jews Think. Suspicions confirmed. There are three parts to this. Fascinating.
The Talmud Tells Me So... A Wicked Book...
What Judaism is Really all About. Extreme Tribalism.
And I could go on and on, of course, but you get the idea.
I would like to point out at this point that the (former) Jew Kapher has his blind spots, not the least of which are the missing parts of his penis. He claims, for example, that Jewish domination of American Politics began with the idiot George W Bush. Wrong. Jewish domination of American politics began with money. Here is an example: Harry Truman's Corruption by Jews.
Beginning beer 4 at 1542L. Time for a link dump:
Puddle Thinking. I love that! Is it a simple way to describe 'The Anthropic Principle?'
6 Human Character flaws That Saved the Species. Funny.
Insane Manifesto of Joseph Andrew Stack. Tragic.
The following links are from the same website:
Why Jews Don't Move to Zion. America is The Promised Land.
How the Jews Took Washington. George W Bush, Ignoramus.
Why Jews Support Black Causes. Jews need allies.
Why I Left Judaism. 'Something was missing...' (part of his penis).
How Jews Think. Suspicions confirmed. There are three parts to this. Fascinating.
The Talmud Tells Me So... A Wicked Book...
What Judaism is Really all About. Extreme Tribalism.
And I could go on and on, of course, but you get the idea.
I would like to point out at this point that the (former) Jew Kapher has his blind spots, not the least of which are the missing parts of his penis. He claims, for example, that Jewish domination of American Politics began with the idiot George W Bush. Wrong. Jewish domination of American politics began with money. Here is an example: Harry Truman's Corruption by Jews.
It Takes One to Know One
(1)
I'm back a bit early this week, after a reasonably good night's sleep. Indeed almost every night this week I was allowed to sleep reasonably well. Why are 'they' sparing me from extreme night-time radiation? Your guess is as good as mine, but mine is that 'they' were not pleased with being equated with 'dog shit.' Or, were they extremely pleased? Do they want more? Again, your guess is as good as mine. It is impossible for normal human beings like us to know what motivates people who are insane. It takes one to know one.
(By the way, as I signed on there was a blast of 'nose rad' causing 8 sneezes, much tearing, and the usual huge mucus flows. The symptoms have subsided now, about 15 minutes later. And the 'quality' of recent daytime radiation has changed somewhat: no more 'rat itch' type rad, but instead a steady stream of what I will call, 'face rad.' Face rad penetrates to the nasal tissues but is too weak to cause the sneeze response. Instead there is a slow, steady buildup of mucus which requires nose-blowing about every 5 or 10 minutes. There is also slow, steady tearing in both eyes. My speculation is that the tearing is only indirectly related to the nasal response and is instead an attempt by the CNS to 'cool the eyes,' which are heating up due to the radiation. More speculation on this subject: My right eye has been tearing for many years. A cataract has also formed in that eye. Have 'they' been zapping me with a microwave 'cannon' all those years? Have 'they' been hitting me from only the right (tap) side, using the left eye as a 'control?' I think so.)
Ok, time to read last week's blog entries after two beers. I read them a day or two ago and was not at all impressed. Will my 'inner critic' tend to be kinder after a bit of alcohol? We shall see...
Alright! I must confess that my inebriated inner critic was much entertained. This is why I recommend that my readers read my blog while slightly buzzed.
I'm back a bit early this week, after a reasonably good night's sleep. Indeed almost every night this week I was allowed to sleep reasonably well. Why are 'they' sparing me from extreme night-time radiation? Your guess is as good as mine, but mine is that 'they' were not pleased with being equated with 'dog shit.' Or, were they extremely pleased? Do they want more? Again, your guess is as good as mine. It is impossible for normal human beings like us to know what motivates people who are insane. It takes one to know one.
(By the way, as I signed on there was a blast of 'nose rad' causing 8 sneezes, much tearing, and the usual huge mucus flows. The symptoms have subsided now, about 15 minutes later. And the 'quality' of recent daytime radiation has changed somewhat: no more 'rat itch' type rad, but instead a steady stream of what I will call, 'face rad.' Face rad penetrates to the nasal tissues but is too weak to cause the sneeze response. Instead there is a slow, steady buildup of mucus which requires nose-blowing about every 5 or 10 minutes. There is also slow, steady tearing in both eyes. My speculation is that the tearing is only indirectly related to the nasal response and is instead an attempt by the CNS to 'cool the eyes,' which are heating up due to the radiation. More speculation on this subject: My right eye has been tearing for many years. A cataract has also formed in that eye. Have 'they' been zapping me with a microwave 'cannon' all those years? Have 'they' been hitting me from only the right (tap) side, using the left eye as a 'control?' I think so.)
Ok, time to read last week's blog entries after two beers. I read them a day or two ago and was not at all impressed. Will my 'inner critic' tend to be kinder after a bit of alcohol? We shall see...
Alright! I must confess that my inebriated inner critic was much entertained. This is why I recommend that my readers read my blog while slightly buzzed.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I am a Poet?
(6)
This explains 'the allure of inebriation.' We need a break from 'life.' We do drugs or we go to church. We do not do both. It is an L-brain thing vs an R-brain thing. But the reality is that we are confused. Church and inebration go together. They love each other. Logic, on the other hand, is very, very new. The Jews invented emotion. The Greeks invented logic:
The tale that can with logic absolute
The four and seven jaring sects confute
Reread it as you wonder all about
The beauty of a history transmute
(original lyrics by author)
This explains 'the allure of inebriation.' We need a break from 'life.' We do drugs or we go to church. We do not do both. It is an L-brain thing vs an R-brain thing. But the reality is that we are confused. Church and inebration go together. They love each other. Logic, on the other hand, is very, very new. The Jews invented emotion. The Greeks invented logic:
The tale that can with logic absolute
The four and seven jaring sects confute
Reread it as you wonder all about
The beauty of a history transmute
(original lyrics by author)
Style Versus Substance
(5)
I have never read 'The Koran.' I never will read 'The Koran.' But I understand that The Koran can only be 'understood' when read in the original Arabic. Translations of The Koran do not serve to express the 'Word of God' correctly.
The English Koran is not the Real Koran. It is missing something. That is to say that 'literal translations' of The Koran tend to be bizarre. This suggests that the Koran and The Bible are 'Stylistic works,' each making about as much logical sense as the other to a modern logical readership steeped in history. Poetry and Logic appear to be opposites, but not necessarilly. Appearance is everything in poetry. Really. But logic eventually emerges as the skeleton of thought. Poetry is flesh, flourish. Beautiful but not essential. Logic is essential. Without logic you die. (Beautifully, of course.)
I have never read 'The Koran.' I never will read 'The Koran.' But I understand that The Koran can only be 'understood' when read in the original Arabic. Translations of The Koran do not serve to express the 'Word of God' correctly.
The English Koran is not the Real Koran. It is missing something. That is to say that 'literal translations' of The Koran tend to be bizarre. This suggests that the Koran and The Bible are 'Stylistic works,' each making about as much logical sense as the other to a modern logical readership steeped in history. Poetry and Logic appear to be opposites, but not necessarilly. Appearance is everything in poetry. Really. But logic eventually emerges as the skeleton of thought. Poetry is flesh, flourish. Beautiful but not essential. Logic is essential. Without logic you die. (Beautifully, of course.)
Biblical Style
(4)
I am unable to detect any Rad (thump) at the moment. Bizarre. Does Gerash think of me as his 'psychiatrist'? Yeesh.
Kootch has hit the sack at 1845. Buzzing. I'm learning not to use 'tabs.' Tabs tend to fuck things up when you're blogging. Use 'windows' only:
'Growing up Jewish was a sad event for me. I always felt like something was missing.'
(This is the first sentence of this post. Something was indeed missing: his male foreskin.) (Alright! I have figured out how to do links in IE8!)
The author says that he was struck by 'the Jewishness of The Gospel of Saint Matthew.' Interesting. He must have read the gospels in sequence. In my opinion he was struck by the 'sacred language' of the gospels. Judeo-Christian religious writings are apparently written in a style which I call, 'sacred language.' 'Sacred Language' is very different from the many and various colloquial languages into which 'The Bible' has been translated. 'Sacred language' imparts a unique mystique to passages so enwritten. Such passages would be 'blah' or absurd when written in the modern colloquial style, but would acquire a certain mystique upon translation. Here is an example from the Old Testament:
'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was a formless void, there was darkness over the deep, and God's spirit hovered over the water.'
Huh? Formless void? Deep? Water?
Matthew, on the other hand, says that,
'This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother, Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to be together (before they fucked the first time) she was found to be with child (knocked up).' Bafrolitonicus. Ratness of fuckness. Mary, the 'mother of god,' was a slut?
As you begin to read this bizarre book you begin to understand that 'language and style' are the essense of an essentially meaningless 'narrative.' Language and meaning are secondary. Style is everything. The Bible is a 'book of style.' Religious style. The translators of The Bible understood this, and as a result they wrote from the point of view of 'stylists.' As a result, The Bible is all style, no substance.
Prove me wrong if you can.
I am unable to detect any Rad (thump) at the moment. Bizarre. Does Gerash think of me as his 'psychiatrist'? Yeesh.
Kootch has hit the sack at 1845. Buzzing. I'm learning not to use 'tabs.' Tabs tend to fuck things up when you're blogging. Use 'windows' only:
'Growing up Jewish was a sad event for me. I always felt like something was missing.'
(This is the first sentence of this post. Something was indeed missing: his male foreskin.) (Alright! I have figured out how to do links in IE8!)
The author says that he was struck by 'the Jewishness of The Gospel of Saint Matthew.' Interesting. He must have read the gospels in sequence. In my opinion he was struck by the 'sacred language' of the gospels. Judeo-Christian religious writings are apparently written in a style which I call, 'sacred language.' 'Sacred Language' is very different from the many and various colloquial languages into which 'The Bible' has been translated. 'Sacred language' imparts a unique mystique to passages so enwritten. Such passages would be 'blah' or absurd when written in the modern colloquial style, but would acquire a certain mystique upon translation. Here is an example from the Old Testament:
'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was a formless void, there was darkness over the deep, and God's spirit hovered over the water.'
Huh? Formless void? Deep? Water?
Matthew, on the other hand, says that,
'This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother, Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to be together (before they fucked the first time) she was found to be with child (knocked up).' Bafrolitonicus. Ratness of fuckness. Mary, the 'mother of god,' was a slut?
As you begin to read this bizarre book you begin to understand that 'language and style' are the essense of an essentially meaningless 'narrative.' Language and meaning are secondary. Style is everything. The Bible is a 'book of style.' Religious style. The translators of The Bible understood this, and as a result they wrote from the point of view of 'stylists.' As a result, The Bible is all style, no substance.
Prove me wrong if you can.
Local Dog Shit Jewry
(3)
I'm back. The 'link' in the previous post worked, so I will use that link to describe the various posts on Real Zionist News which I found interesting. (Extreme Nose Rad; about 20 sneezes.
Sniff, sniff. Blow, blow, blow.) Judeo-faggot forces punished me severely every night last week that I researched this blog. Enjoy:
Why Jews don't move to Zion. Walter Gerash, insane Judeofaggot pervert stalker prefers to live here. Why? Shouldn't he have moved to Israel? Many years ago? Methinks that Gerash enjoys the 'Jewish good life' here in Denver. (Zap, zap!) He enjoys torturing an innocent Irishman who repeatedly rejected his homosexual advances many years ago. Unable to 'move on' due to his psychotic obsession, Gerash lives above me, participating in my life through eavesdropping and 'messaging.' Having no 'life' of his own, Gerash sucks on my life like an ungrateful leech. Aspects of my life which displease him are punished, the 'justification' of which is that I am 'Goyim.' Gerash 'hates' me because he is a miserable piece of Jewish dog shit, while I am an enlightened human being. Gerash also loves me. The love-hate portion of Gerash's brain is (tap) malformed. Gerash is emotionally 'non compos mentos.'
But Gerash is a Jew, and as such he enjoys the protection of local dog shit Jewry.
I'm back. The 'link' in the previous post worked, so I will use that link to describe the various posts on Real Zionist News which I found interesting. (Extreme Nose Rad; about 20 sneezes.
Sniff, sniff. Blow, blow, blow.) Judeo-faggot forces punished me severely every night last week that I researched this blog. Enjoy:
Why Jews don't move to Zion. Walter Gerash, insane Judeofaggot pervert stalker prefers to live here. Why? Shouldn't he have moved to Israel? Many years ago? Methinks that Gerash enjoys the 'Jewish good life' here in Denver. (Zap, zap!) He enjoys torturing an innocent Irishman who repeatedly rejected his homosexual advances many years ago. Unable to 'move on' due to his psychotic obsession, Gerash lives above me, participating in my life through eavesdropping and 'messaging.' Having no 'life' of his own, Gerash sucks on my life like an ungrateful leech. Aspects of my life which displease him are punished, the 'justification' of which is that I am 'Goyim.' Gerash 'hates' me because he is a miserable piece of Jewish dog shit, while I am an enlightened human being. Gerash also loves me. The love-hate portion of Gerash's brain is (tap) malformed. Gerash is emotionally 'non compos mentos.'
But Gerash is a Jew, and as such he enjoys the protection of local dog shit Jewry.
Blog Disaster
(2)
Brother Nathanael (new font!?) calls himself a 'former Jew.' Can you be a 'former' Jew? If so, then Judaism is not genetic but idiologic. I think it is both. 'Christian' Jews still remember their genetic heritage, as well they should. I would say that the dumbest Jews tend to define themselves by their genetic heritage, whereas the smartest Jews tend to define themselves by their cultural heritage. Culture changes faster than genes. Genes tend to be the excremental part of social evolution.
What interested me about BN was his grasp of Jewish history. Jewish money was influential during the French Revolution. Huh? Who knew?
I was hooked by this blogpost, 'Confessions of a former Jew http://www.realzionistnews.com/?p=184'
Well, folks, after numerous failed attempts to link to this site using IE8 it is very clear that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. I need to terminate tonight's blog. I then need to become 'link proficient' while sober.
Nighty night. See you next week. Time for the news at 1730L.
Brother Nathanael (new font!?) calls himself a 'former Jew.' Can you be a 'former' Jew? If so, then Judaism is not genetic but idiologic. I think it is both. 'Christian' Jews still remember their genetic heritage, as well they should. I would say that the dumbest Jews tend to define themselves by their genetic heritage, whereas the smartest Jews tend to define themselves by their cultural heritage. Culture changes faster than genes. Genes tend to be the excremental part of social evolution.
What interested me about BN was his grasp of Jewish history. Jewish money was influential during the French Revolution. Huh? Who knew?
I was hooked by this blogpost, 'Confessions of a former Jew http://www.realzionistnews.com/?p=184'
Well, folks, after numerous failed attempts to link to this site using IE8 it is very clear that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. I need to terminate tonight's blog. I then need to become 'link proficient' while sober.
Nighty night. See you next week. Time for the news at 1730L.
A Hellish Week
(1)
The links in (5) below don't make sense. Possible hackery. I'll make it a practice to describe the links in forthcoming posts. That should help. Speaking of 'coming' there will be no pants-peeing tonight: not horney due to orgasm three or four days ago. But stay tuned. The lyrics in (6) are from Cosi Fan Tutte. Maybe I was watching it just before I ended the session. I don't remember. I like the 'stream of conciousness' style now and then, but only now and then.
Watched the first two hours of Survivor today: Heroes versus Villians. Amanda is back. Check out that shot of Amanda's magnificient butt/crotch at 21 minutes. Awesome. Lucifer et al knew exactly what they were doing when they designed the human female.
Its been a torturous week due to heavy microwave radiation at night. During the daytime I can move around to avoid the radiation, but at night I am a fixed target. Monday night through wednesday night was hellish, leaving me sick and very sleep-deprived. Last night was unusually mild. Why? My guess is that 'they' didn't want to discourage tonight's blog.
The alternative theory is that 'they' have been watching me this week as I researched the amazing blog of a 'former Jew' who calls himself, 'Brother Nathanael.' I did no research at all last night, but instead began a new game of C-III. It's Us Romans versus The Persians for control of the 'continent.' They declared war and attacked us. We entered our 'golden age' with our first Legionary victory. Was that the reason?
Brother Nathanael has an astonishing site. See next post.
The links in (5) below don't make sense. Possible hackery. I'll make it a practice to describe the links in forthcoming posts. That should help. Speaking of 'coming' there will be no pants-peeing tonight: not horney due to orgasm three or four days ago. But stay tuned. The lyrics in (6) are from Cosi Fan Tutte. Maybe I was watching it just before I ended the session. I don't remember. I like the 'stream of conciousness' style now and then, but only now and then.
Watched the first two hours of Survivor today: Heroes versus Villians. Amanda is back. Check out that shot of Amanda's magnificient butt/crotch at 21 minutes. Awesome. Lucifer et al knew exactly what they were doing when they designed the human female.
Its been a torturous week due to heavy microwave radiation at night. During the daytime I can move around to avoid the radiation, but at night I am a fixed target. Monday night through wednesday night was hellish, leaving me sick and very sleep-deprived. Last night was unusually mild. Why? My guess is that 'they' didn't want to discourage tonight's blog.
The alternative theory is that 'they' have been watching me this week as I researched the amazing blog of a 'former Jew' who calls himself, 'Brother Nathanael.' I did no research at all last night, but instead began a new game of C-III. It's Us Romans versus The Persians for control of the 'continent.' They declared war and attacked us. We entered our 'golden age' with our first Legionary victory. Was that the reason?
Brother Nathanael has an astonishing site. See next post.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Tommorrow
(6)
The beginning...
Is amusing...
But tomorrow...
Comes the sun.
The beginning...
Is amusing...
But tomorrow...
Comes the sun.
Good Night
(5)
Which brings us to beer #11. Sip. Tone of Consciousnes is 'buzzed.' Sip. Nose blow: nasal passages feel gloriously 'chilly' as I breathe in. Tissues shrink as I cool them with inhalation. The result is that (R Lung Gas - 12, 1) both nostrils feel about the same now. Violent 'sniffs.' Swallow lots of mucus. Taps above (tap). Time is 1921L. Sip.
1947L. Last mu'ckin' beer. Sip. Just peed. Alone. (thump) Maybe not.
Enjoying the cold feeling in my nasal passages as I breathe in. Nose running slightly. Thump.
Last beer at 1951L. Sip.
Need music: Fascinating.
Sipping last beer at 2005. Slight Nose Rad. Nose blow. Not much 'tearing.'
Beer half gone at 2007. Last beer. Need another YouTube music.
Fucked up, but returned. Nighty-night.
Which brings us to beer #11. Sip. Tone of Consciousnes is 'buzzed.' Sip. Nose blow: nasal passages feel gloriously 'chilly' as I breathe in. Tissues shrink as I cool them with inhalation. The result is that (R Lung Gas - 12, 1) both nostrils feel about the same now. Violent 'sniffs.' Swallow lots of mucus. Taps above (tap). Time is 1921L. Sip.
1947L. Last mu'ckin' beer. Sip. Just peed. Alone. (thump) Maybe not.
Enjoying the cold feeling in my nasal passages as I breathe in. Nose running slightly. Thump.
Last beer at 1951L. Sip.
Need music: Fascinating.
Sipping last beer at 2005. Slight Nose Rad. Nose blow. Not much 'tearing.'
Beer half gone at 2007. Last beer. Need another YouTube music.
Fucked up, but returned. Nighty-night.
Tune in Next Week
(4)
Beginning beer #10 at 1812L. Time flies!
Rereading the most recent blog posts I 'get it' that some folks might find my 'personal pervs' interesting. I have fans, pervwise. No problem. And it occurs to me that those fans might be interested in my private feelings and sensations as I 'do it.' Women would be especially interested. I understand that.
And at the same time I know that I will not be tempted to relenquish bladder control for at least another week, just in time for next friday night. No pants-peeing tonight. Pants-peeing does not appeal to me right now owing to a recent orgasm, but I know that next week will be different: by Wednesday or Thursday I will be wetting my pants again as I sit here at the computer, horney as hell again.
So I hereby announce that next Friday evening I will wet my pants as I blog. I will describe all sensations. I will describe the pants in question. You will not want to miss it if you have ever peed in your pants on purpose. See you next week.
Beginning beer #10 at 1812L. Time flies!
Rereading the most recent blog posts I 'get it' that some folks might find my 'personal pervs' interesting. I have fans, pervwise. No problem. And it occurs to me that those fans might be interested in my private feelings and sensations as I 'do it.' Women would be especially interested. I understand that.
And at the same time I know that I will not be tempted to relenquish bladder control for at least another week, just in time for next friday night. No pants-peeing tonight. Pants-peeing does not appeal to me right now owing to a recent orgasm, but I know that next week will be different: by Wednesday or Thursday I will be wetting my pants again as I sit here at the computer, horney as hell again.
So I hereby announce that next Friday evening I will wet my pants as I blog. I will describe all sensations. I will describe the pants in question. You will not want to miss it if you have ever peed in your pants on purpose. See you next week.
Uh-Oh
(3)
Call me 'Sparky.'
Beer #6 at 1539L. Kootch is ready to eat. Off to the LR for Millionaire while Kootch eats... Fun as usual. Red is the color. One of the contestants is a woman with very red hair. Hmm. Shall I change into those red sports briefs? Hmm. (And by the way, I was not totally shocked by last week's blog entry admitting that I had peed in my pants. They were hanging on the headboard when I woke up Saturday afternoon, and I thought, 'Uh-oh.')
I promise to remain dry tonight. We shall see. 'Horney' is the problem: at 75 I still get horney every two weeks or so. For me, pants-peeing is masturbatory foreplay, and at my age I need lots of foreplay. Normal heterosex is a different matter, of course: all I need is a willing woman and privacy. Maybe a little Viagra. It helps if the woman is wearing pink nylon panties. I love to feel a woman's crotch with my left hand while she is wearing nylon panties. Call me 'perverted' if you must.
Beer #8 (whahoppen #7?!) at 1645L. Sip. Yum. Four beers left. Gonna be a short night.
Call me 'Sparky.'
Beer #6 at 1539L. Kootch is ready to eat. Off to the LR for Millionaire while Kootch eats... Fun as usual. Red is the color. One of the contestants is a woman with very red hair. Hmm. Shall I change into those red sports briefs? Hmm. (And by the way, I was not totally shocked by last week's blog entry admitting that I had peed in my pants. They were hanging on the headboard when I woke up Saturday afternoon, and I thought, 'Uh-oh.')
I promise to remain dry tonight. We shall see. 'Horney' is the problem: at 75 I still get horney every two weeks or so. For me, pants-peeing is masturbatory foreplay, and at my age I need lots of foreplay. Normal heterosex is a different matter, of course: all I need is a willing woman and privacy. Maybe a little Viagra. It helps if the woman is wearing pink nylon panties. I love to feel a woman's crotch with my left hand while she is wearing nylon panties. Call me 'perverted' if you must.
Beer #8 (whahoppen #7?!) at 1645L. Sip. Yum. Four beers left. Gonna be a short night.
We Only Need a Spark
(2)
The interesting thing about last week's last link is that I do not remember it. Where the fuck did I get it?! Hmm. (Personal note: Check History. Check nexblog. Were we hacked?)
Don't get me wrong, I continue to love O'bama, but this is something that needs a great deal of research. I will report back next week.
(Nose Rad seems to be minimal at 1409L, but not totally absent.)
Meanwhile I have some related links for you:
Americans Against Bombing. Oops, the link feature no longer works. Oops, it does. I recently upgraded to IE8. Still learning. This link will keep us busy for at least a week.
Nose Rad gone at 1439L. Heading to the fridge. Beer #5 at 1443L.
Has historian finally found real reason for Hitler's obsessive hatred of Jews? You might recall that I postulated that Hitler was concerned about the German penis given his observation that the American foreskin was rapidly disappearing. But did Hitler really care about your dick? Not bloody fucking likely. This explanation makes more sense. (I just snuck up on Kootch in the kitchen as she prepared supper at 1456L and tickled her under her right arm. She was not amused.) Hmm... lessee... Jewish banks... Jewish newspapers... Jew control of media and money... and maybe Jewish control of medicine... sounds to me like an explosive mixture. The only thing missing here in modern America seems to be a lost war or similar catastrophe. We already have an explosive mixture. We only need a spark.
The interesting thing about last week's last link is that I do not remember it. Where the fuck did I get it?! Hmm. (Personal note: Check History. Check nexblog. Were we hacked?)
Don't get me wrong, I continue to love O'bama, but this is something that needs a great deal of research. I will report back next week.
(Nose Rad seems to be minimal at 1409L, but not totally absent.)
Meanwhile I have some related links for you:
Americans Against Bombing. Oops, the link feature no longer works. Oops, it does. I recently upgraded to IE8. Still learning. This link will keep us busy for at least a week.
Nose Rad gone at 1439L. Heading to the fridge. Beer #5 at 1443L.
Has historian finally found real reason for Hitler's obsessive hatred of Jews? You might recall that I postulated that Hitler was concerned about the German penis given his observation that the American foreskin was rapidly disappearing. But did Hitler really care about your dick? Not bloody fucking likely. This explanation makes more sense. (I just snuck up on Kootch in the kitchen as she prepared supper at 1456L and tickled her under her right arm. She was not amused.) Hmm... lessee... Jewish banks... Jewish newspapers... Jew control of media and money... and maybe Jewish control of medicine... sounds to me like an explosive mixture. The only thing missing here in modern America seems to be a lost war or similar catastrophe. We already have an explosive mixture. We only need a spark.
OMG
(1)
First sip of beer (on an empty stomach) at 1231L. Preparing to read what I wrote last week. Be a few minutes yet, as I prefer to be just a bit tipsy before reading something only vaguely remembered because it was written more or less drunk one week ago. My usual reaction is one of giggly relief. What will it be this week? 1240L. Nothing. Sip sip... 1242L. Slight difference in tone of consciousness. Beer buzz is beginning. Remembering last week's hangover. The usual blah, depressed, guilty feeling which always clears up the next day. Nose is runny - Nose Rad. Eyes watering slightly. 1248L. Finished first beer. Want more beer. Head to the fridge. Back at 1258L. Got sidetracked by the first ten minutes of Kathy Lee and Hoda. Funny girls, especially when I'm buzzed. (This is a 'first' for me.) Nose Rad continues in the BR. Everybody wearing red. National 'wear red day' to raise awareness of women's heart disease. I do my part: today's panties are red 'sports briefs.' Size 12. Cotton. White waist band and white crotch liner. Made in El Salvador. Viva El Salvador. End beer #2 at 1309L. First hiccup. Off to the fridge again. Back at 1313L after interacting with Kootch in the kitchen. 1314L. First sip of beer #3. Ok, I'm ready. Now reading last week's blog... OMG. I was afraid of that...
First sip of beer (on an empty stomach) at 1231L. Preparing to read what I wrote last week. Be a few minutes yet, as I prefer to be just a bit tipsy before reading something only vaguely remembered because it was written more or less drunk one week ago. My usual reaction is one of giggly relief. What will it be this week? 1240L. Nothing. Sip sip... 1242L. Slight difference in tone of consciousness. Beer buzz is beginning. Remembering last week's hangover. The usual blah, depressed, guilty feeling which always clears up the next day. Nose is runny - Nose Rad. Eyes watering slightly. 1248L. Finished first beer. Want more beer. Head to the fridge. Back at 1258L. Got sidetracked by the first ten minutes of Kathy Lee and Hoda. Funny girls, especially when I'm buzzed. (This is a 'first' for me.) Nose Rad continues in the BR. Everybody wearing red. National 'wear red day' to raise awareness of women's heart disease. I do my part: today's panties are red 'sports briefs.' Size 12. Cotton. White waist band and white crotch liner. Made in El Salvador. Viva El Salvador. End beer #2 at 1309L. First hiccup. Off to the fridge again. Back at 1313L after interacting with Kootch in the kitchen. 1314L. First sip of beer #3. Ok, I'm ready. Now reading last week's blog... OMG. I was afraid of that...
