Thursday, April 25, 2013
Beautiful Barcarolle.
(7)
(I 'signed off' recently, drunk as a skunk. But it was waaay too early! So I'm back with some 'auditory beauty.' You will love it! Something I was watching on channel six recently mentioned 'Barcarolle,' so I looked it up on Google, and played that beautiful music several times recently. Beware! It is so beautiful that you might not be able to forget it! Use caution!
Barcarolle (By Offenbach) must be one of history's greatest creations! You will love the two women who sing this beautiful music! I learned later that they are sisters. Glorious!)
(I 'signed off' recently, drunk as a skunk. But it was waaay too early! So I'm back with some 'auditory beauty.' You will love it! Something I was watching on channel six recently mentioned 'Barcarolle,' so I looked it up on Google, and played that beautiful music several times recently. Beware! It is so beautiful that you might not be able to forget it! Use caution!
Barcarolle (By Offenbach) must be one of history's greatest creations! You will love the two women who sing this beautiful music! I learned later that they are sisters. Glorious!)
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
See You Next Cycle.
(6)
Such fun in this Modern Age! Sip.
Sipping on Canadian Mist at 2140.
See you next cycle!
Sip.
Such fun in this Modern Age! Sip.
Sipping on Canadian Mist at 2140.
See you next cycle!
Sip.
Ouspensky.
(5)
Buzzing beautifully at 2020. Sip.
Buzzing nicely at 2044. Sip. I'm thinking that my main points for tonight's blog have already been 'articulated.' Sip.
I'm thinking of 'signing out' at 2049. Sip.
Bored, I decide to contact the Jewish God WHTZSNM at 2050:
----------
me: Boston Strong!
gd: Huh?
me: The recent events in Boston.
gd: Oh, that.
me: Yep.
gd: Anything else?
me: Yes. I have determined the name of Your Executioner.
gd: Ha! Ha!
me: Funny?
gd: Very funny. Please continue.
me: Ouspensky.
gd: (Click.)
----------
Buzzing beautifully at 2020. Sip.
Buzzing nicely at 2044. Sip. I'm thinking that my main points for tonight's blog have already been 'articulated.' Sip.
I'm thinking of 'signing out' at 2049. Sip.
Bored, I decide to contact the Jewish God WHTZSNM at 2050:
----------
me: Boston Strong!
gd: Huh?
me: The recent events in Boston.
gd: Oh, that.
me: Yep.
gd: Anything else?
me: Yes. I have determined the name of Your Executioner.
gd: Ha! Ha!
me: Funny?
gd: Very funny. Please continue.
me: Ouspensky.
gd: (Click.)
----------
The Fourth Way.
(4)
If some of you readers wonder what I might have meant by characterising you as, 'asleep,' then you fall into the category of 'psychologically clueless.' You can fix that by 'self-education.' I suggest that you read, The Fourth Way, by Ouspensky. There you will find your future, if any.
And I say, 'if any' because 'your future' is dubious at best. Read! Reread! Do it! Now!
Which seems to bring us to the logical end of this post. Sip. (But wait! I'm only halfway through beer #11! I refuse to let this glorious opportunity zip by as I do tap-tap. I write this because I care about you. I want you to prosper. Why?
Beats the hell outa me.
If some of you readers wonder what I might have meant by characterising you as, 'asleep,' then you fall into the category of 'psychologically clueless.' You can fix that by 'self-education.' I suggest that you read, The Fourth Way, by Ouspensky. There you will find your future, if any.
And I say, 'if any' because 'your future' is dubious at best. Read! Reread! Do it! Now!
Which seems to bring us to the logical end of this post. Sip. (But wait! I'm only halfway through beer #11! I refuse to let this glorious opportunity zip by as I do tap-tap. I write this because I care about you. I want you to prosper. Why?
Beats the hell outa me.
Time Matters.
(3)
Sipping on beer #8 at 1833. IQ is now about 130. Sip. About time. Sip.
Which brings us to why such an ingeniously devised series of pitfalls ultimately failed. 'It was a perfect plan! Why did it fail?! How did he escape?!'
----------
It failed because I was 'awake' (tap) and 'the perpetrators' were 'asleep.' It was as if I had 'intelligence' revealing their stupid little plan. And I must admit that after many years of being stalked and attacked by Jews, I have developed my own very effective defenses. True, I have little defense against microwave attacks (and, by the way, I would never do anything like that to Jews), but my 'psychological defenses' are superb: I enjoy my life in spite of those stupid Jews. Really. (Suck on it, Jews!)
Sip.
----------
Regarding how Kroger Jews might have used an emotional meltdown by me to their advantage, I can only guess. But my psychological state is so obviously superior to that of The Jews that the entire tribe seems to be suffering. What is my secret?
Time. Time is the 'secret.'
Jews believe ancient nonsense. I don't.
Simple as that.
Sipping on beer #8 at 1833. IQ is now about 130. Sip. About time. Sip.
Which brings us to why such an ingeniously devised series of pitfalls ultimately failed. 'It was a perfect plan! Why did it fail?! How did he escape?!'
----------
It failed because I was 'awake' (tap) and 'the perpetrators' were 'asleep.' It was as if I had 'intelligence' revealing their stupid little plan. And I must admit that after many years of being stalked and attacked by Jews, I have developed my own very effective defenses. True, I have little defense against microwave attacks (and, by the way, I would never do anything like that to Jews), but my 'psychological defenses' are superb: I enjoy my life in spite of those stupid Jews. Really. (Suck on it, Jews!)
Sip.
----------
Regarding how Kroger Jews might have used an emotional meltdown by me to their advantage, I can only guess. But my psychological state is so obviously superior to that of The Jews that the entire tribe seems to be suffering. What is my secret?
Time. Time is the 'secret.'
Jews believe ancient nonsense. I don't.
Simple as that.
Inserting the Bait, and Recording the Result.
(2)
The remaining shopping experience was routine, and there was even a 'store well-wisher' greeting shoppers near the center of the store. He 'wished me well' and I retaliated in kind, almost. Not quite. The rest of the trip was uneventful, but began getting interesting as I did my checkout. The woman checking me out seemed pleasant, as usual, and my 'bill' came to an even 60 dollars. 'Easy!' I said, and slipped her three 20s. She handed me the printed tab, and I then directed my attention to the dude who was packing the goodies into the shopping cart which I would soon push out to the car. Eheh.
----------
(Back from the fridge with beer #6 at 1745. Sip. I have regained the lost IQ points plus 5.) A bizarre scene presented itself to me: The 'packer' was removing my stuff from one cart and packing it into another cart. There was no need to do that, and furthermore he was doing it in a totally illogical manner: He saved the 12-pacs of Diet Pepsi for last, and couldn't seem to decide where to pack those three remaining heavy items. He studied the situation intensely. Eheh.
I intervened, noticing that he had some physical characteristics suggesting that he was autistic. (KS often uses otherwise competent autistics in jobs requiring minimal skills). I began by stashing the three 12-packs of Diet Pepsi into the original cart. I then began repacking the remaining bags and other items into the other cart. I said to him, 'No problem; I'm an expert on this. I've been doing this for 60 years.' He said, 'Wow.'
As I exited the store it began to dawn on me that my entire shopping experience had been 'observed and tampered with.' Why? Was it related to my blog? Are the Jews at Kroger also at war against me?
----------
I concluded that Those Jews were indeed making war on little ole me. Here is the scenerio which I think those Jews had in mind:
----------
1. Anger him right from the beginning by 'greeting' him with his well-known (to us) hatred of fucked-up shopping carts.
2. Test his emotional state at the middle of his shopping trip. Proceed if indicated.
3. Zap him at the end (tap) with an 'idiot' shopping cart packer and get his reaction on tape.
4. Reveal his rage to other Jews who might not be 'on board' yet against him.
5. Increase, thereby, our numbers against him!
----------
And that, dear readers, is only my interpretation of a very bizarre event today at KSW.
The remaining shopping experience was routine, and there was even a 'store well-wisher' greeting shoppers near the center of the store. He 'wished me well' and I retaliated in kind, almost. Not quite. The rest of the trip was uneventful, but began getting interesting as I did my checkout. The woman checking me out seemed pleasant, as usual, and my 'bill' came to an even 60 dollars. 'Easy!' I said, and slipped her three 20s. She handed me the printed tab, and I then directed my attention to the dude who was packing the goodies into the shopping cart which I would soon push out to the car. Eheh.
----------
(Back from the fridge with beer #6 at 1745. Sip. I have regained the lost IQ points plus 5.) A bizarre scene presented itself to me: The 'packer' was removing my stuff from one cart and packing it into another cart. There was no need to do that, and furthermore he was doing it in a totally illogical manner: He saved the 12-pacs of Diet Pepsi for last, and couldn't seem to decide where to pack those three remaining heavy items. He studied the situation intensely. Eheh.
I intervened, noticing that he had some physical characteristics suggesting that he was autistic. (KS often uses otherwise competent autistics in jobs requiring minimal skills). I began by stashing the three 12-packs of Diet Pepsi into the original cart. I then began repacking the remaining bags and other items into the other cart. I said to him, 'No problem; I'm an expert on this. I've been doing this for 60 years.' He said, 'Wow.'
As I exited the store it began to dawn on me that my entire shopping experience had been 'observed and tampered with.' Why? Was it related to my blog? Are the Jews at Kroger also at war against me?
----------
I concluded that Those Jews were indeed making war on little ole me. Here is the scenerio which I think those Jews had in mind:
----------
1. Anger him right from the beginning by 'greeting' him with his well-known (to us) hatred of fucked-up shopping carts.
2. Test his emotional state at the middle of his shopping trip. Proceed if indicated.
3. Zap him at the end (tap) with an 'idiot' shopping cart packer and get his reaction on tape.
4. Reveal his rage to other Jews who might not be 'on board' yet against him.
5. Increase, thereby, our numbers against him!
----------
And that, dear readers, is only my interpretation of a very bizarre event today at KSW.
Setting The Trap.
(1)
Sipping on beer #1 at 1610. Sip. Buzzing slightly. I need to edit last week a bit... Done at 1623. Sip. Buzzing now, and at least 10 IQ points dumber. Sip.
Back with beer #2 at 1626. Sip. Which brings me to a very juicy situation! Sip. As we all now know, privacy is at a minimum in the modern age. Cameras are everywhere. I even suspect that the Jewish stalkers in this building can image me in my own apartment! I have known with absolute certainty that they can and do listen to us (Kootch and me) on a 24/7/365 basis, and they often 'communicate' to me using unwanted taps, thumps, and sto(thump)mps. I have long suspected that The creepy folks above us are only 'the tip of the iceberg.'
So, with all those cameras in mind, on a recent shopping trip to King Soopers, I noticed a camera above me on a relatively deserted aisle. 'Are 'they' watching me?' I decided to 'test the question:' I 'flipped the bird' to the camera above me using either a 'nose job' or an 'ear job.' (I forgot which.) Sip. Then I went about my business. 'Suck on that!', I thought. Little did I think they would 'retaliate.' How could they? But today they did, folks! Yes they did!
----------
I needed some beer and other stuff today, so I drove to the same KS (Kroger) store. Things went 'downhill right from the beginning: I had a problem with my first shopping cart selection: Two of them were stuck together. (Kootch just wished me 'goodnight' She operates on Tokyo time and will soon hit the sack.) I said to her, 'I'm roasting The Jews at the moment.' She smiled and said, 'Ok' and waved. (She doesn't take me seriously when I'm boozing.) Sip. Where wuz I? Sip.
Ah yes, cooking. I tried, but could not separate the two stuck-together carts. I then made another selection. That choice, too, yielded an inseperable pair of carts. 'Huh!? That's a first!' Meanwhile, a young dude who appeared to be working for the store shoved the stuck two carts back at me. I said to him, somewhat angrily, 'Keep those things out of my way.' He did not seem to be pleased. I went about my shopping with a new cart which steered very reluctantly.
----------
(One of my 'pet peeves' is 'crippled shopping carts' which interfere emotionally with an otherwise pleasant shopping experience. 'Crippled' shopping carts should be rare indeed at all super markets. (Hint, hint.))
Sipping on beer #1 at 1610. Sip. Buzzing slightly. I need to edit last week a bit... Done at 1623. Sip. Buzzing now, and at least 10 IQ points dumber. Sip.
Back with beer #2 at 1626. Sip. Which brings me to a very juicy situation! Sip. As we all now know, privacy is at a minimum in the modern age. Cameras are everywhere. I even suspect that the Jewish stalkers in this building can image me in my own apartment! I have known with absolute certainty that they can and do listen to us (Kootch and me) on a 24/7/365 basis, and they often 'communicate' to me using unwanted taps, thumps, and sto(thump)mps. I have long suspected that The creepy folks above us are only 'the tip of the iceberg.'
So, with all those cameras in mind, on a recent shopping trip to King Soopers, I noticed a camera above me on a relatively deserted aisle. 'Are 'they' watching me?' I decided to 'test the question:' I 'flipped the bird' to the camera above me using either a 'nose job' or an 'ear job.' (I forgot which.) Sip. Then I went about my business. 'Suck on that!', I thought. Little did I think they would 'retaliate.' How could they? But today they did, folks! Yes they did!
----------
I needed some beer and other stuff today, so I drove to the same KS (Kroger) store. Things went 'downhill right from the beginning: I had a problem with my first shopping cart selection: Two of them were stuck together. (Kootch just wished me 'goodnight' She operates on Tokyo time and will soon hit the sack.) I said to her, 'I'm roasting The Jews at the moment.' She smiled and said, 'Ok' and waved. (She doesn't take me seriously when I'm boozing.) Sip. Where wuz I? Sip.
Ah yes, cooking. I tried, but could not separate the two stuck-together carts. I then made another selection. That choice, too, yielded an inseperable pair of carts. 'Huh!? That's a first!' Meanwhile, a young dude who appeared to be working for the store shoved the stuck two carts back at me. I said to him, somewhat angrily, 'Keep those things out of my way.' He did not seem to be pleased. I went about my shopping with a new cart which steered very reluctantly.
----------
(One of my 'pet peeves' is 'crippled shopping carts' which interfere emotionally with an otherwise pleasant shopping experience. 'Crippled' shopping carts should be rare indeed at all super markets. (Hint, hint.))
Monday, April 15, 2013
Looking Forward...
(5)
2218 local and I just did the last sip of Natural Light. Gotta go to the kitchen and do a replenishment...
Now sipping on beer #13, my last beer. I have my usual 'backup' in the form of Canadian whiskey, of course. (Oh Canada! We love you Canada! Yes we do!)
Snow at 2238 Denver time! Six inches! Sip.
My current 'state' is that I am buzzing 'moderately.' After 12 beers I would ordinarily be buzzing my brains out, but it has been weeks since my last confession and since then I have committed these sins: I have not imbibed any drugs at all. Sip.
Those were 'the good ole days.'
Now I am buzzing moderately on beer #13.
The current Terrorism Story is now playing on CNN, MSNBC and other Jew-controlled media. I am totally unfamiliar with the story, having been busy writing my Blog during the time the story has been unfolding. I shall now 'Sign Off.'
The plan is to re-appear blogwise next week. See you then.
2218 local and I just did the last sip of Natural Light. Gotta go to the kitchen and do a replenishment...
Now sipping on beer #13, my last beer. I have my usual 'backup' in the form of Canadian whiskey, of course. (Oh Canada! We love you Canada! Yes we do!)
Snow at 2238 Denver time! Six inches! Sip.
My current 'state' is that I am buzzing 'moderately.' After 12 beers I would ordinarily be buzzing my brains out, but it has been weeks since my last confession and since then I have committed these sins: I have not imbibed any drugs at all. Sip.
Those were 'the good ole days.'
Now I am buzzing moderately on beer #13.
The current Terrorism Story is now playing on CNN, MSNBC and other Jew-controlled media. I am totally unfamiliar with the story, having been busy writing my Blog during the time the story has been unfolding. I shall now 'Sign Off.'
The plan is to re-appear blogwise next week. See you then.
Music, Poetry, Pussy, and History.
(4)
So I am so looking forward to April 20th, 2013, Marijuana Day, in The Mile High City of Denver Colorado! (Huff, huff!)
And April is National Poetry Month! I love poetry, of course. The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam is my favorite. I also love The Garden of Proserpine. These two poems were among the very best things I learned in High School. Chemistry, of course, was the very best stuff I ever learned there. It explained everything. Everything! Sip. The eventual result of those Chemistry classes was that they provided an alternative explanation to those Religion classes taught by Father Manning.
Poetry and Chemistry changed me. Sip.
My Chemistry teacher was an ugly nun we called, 'Horseface.'
Father Manning was 'The Rector,' who exuded 'ultimate control.' He hated me for some reason, and flunked me twice! Why did he hate me? I don't know.
Horseface once caught me reading 'The Iliad' (Greek historical novel) in her classroom. She confiscated the book early in the school year. She returned it to me at the end of the year, possibly hoping that I would have to pay heavy late fees. Little did she know that it was my practice at the time to 'steal' books from the Public Library, then return them after I had read them. I had 'stolen' that book, and therefore I had to pay no 'late fees.' I was such a naughty little boy back in those days!
The only teacher at BEHS that I ever really liked was a nun who taught Literature. She was young and beautiful. She was one of a local minority we called, 'Air Force Sisters' because of their elaborate 'headress.' She made it her mission to literally read to us the novel, 'The Scarlet Pimpernel.' I would watch her as she slowly moved around the class room, reading. We would occasionally make eye contact. At those times it was obvious that she liked me too! I would have fucked that woman at the drop of a hat!
I flunked Apologetics (Religion) taught by Father Manning... twice! I ended up in Summer School, helped by my (then) girlfriend, Ann Bellinger. I eventually passed the Summerschool test, and as a result I could join the USAF in September of 1954 as a HS grad. Which I did.
While in Basic Training at San Antonio Texas I had my last encounter with my very best lifelong friend, Leslie MacDonald, who was in pilot training. We played a game of chess. I won. He was pissed. He 'prophetized' that I would end up in Japan married to a Japanese woman.
Later, in Japan, I would learn that he had been killed in Japan after he had ejected from his F-100 too late on final approach after running out of fuel.
My last remaining friend from back in those days at Bishop England HS was Richard Maclean (sp - check the 1954 BEHS Yearbook). He went on to become a transport pilot (presumably because he was too tall for a fighter pilot).
Richard and Leslie were the two most influential people in my life. Richard taught me about Classical Music, and Leslie taught me about Short Wave Radio. My uncle Russ was at least equal to those two beloved friends: He took me for my very first airplane ride (in a Piper Cub) in about 1946.
By the way, my youngest sister, Libby, went with my brother David (the circumcised) to one of my HS Reunions back in 1994 or so. I did not attend, but Libby mailed me some photographs from that event. The most interesting photo was that of Anne Bellinger, my old girl friend from HS. She was poised on a stairway with her right hand extended and her middle finger extended, obviously Flipping The Bird to the photographer. She was 'smiling.' Her abdomen appeared to be somewhat swollen. I thought nothing of it for several years but eventually began to wonder why my sister bothered to attend me and my brother's reunion. Libby, unfortunately, turned out to be the creepiest member of our family. Some years ago I got a postcard from Libby saying, (tap) 'I wish we could be a family again.'
The 'tap' is significant. Gerash the stalker is very impulsive.
No, Libby. We will never be family again.
So I am so looking forward to April 20th, 2013, Marijuana Day, in The Mile High City of Denver Colorado! (Huff, huff!)
And April is National Poetry Month! I love poetry, of course. The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam is my favorite. I also love The Garden of Proserpine. These two poems were among the very best things I learned in High School. Chemistry, of course, was the very best stuff I ever learned there. It explained everything. Everything! Sip. The eventual result of those Chemistry classes was that they provided an alternative explanation to those Religion classes taught by Father Manning.
Poetry and Chemistry changed me. Sip.
My Chemistry teacher was an ugly nun we called, 'Horseface.'
Father Manning was 'The Rector,' who exuded 'ultimate control.' He hated me for some reason, and flunked me twice! Why did he hate me? I don't know.
Horseface once caught me reading 'The Iliad' (Greek historical novel) in her classroom. She confiscated the book early in the school year. She returned it to me at the end of the year, possibly hoping that I would have to pay heavy late fees. Little did she know that it was my practice at the time to 'steal' books from the Public Library, then return them after I had read them. I had 'stolen' that book, and therefore I had to pay no 'late fees.' I was such a naughty little boy back in those days!
The only teacher at BEHS that I ever really liked was a nun who taught Literature. She was young and beautiful. She was one of a local minority we called, 'Air Force Sisters' because of their elaborate 'headress.' She made it her mission to literally read to us the novel, 'The Scarlet Pimpernel.' I would watch her as she slowly moved around the class room, reading. We would occasionally make eye contact. At those times it was obvious that she liked me too! I would have fucked that woman at the drop of a hat!
I flunked Apologetics (Religion) taught by Father Manning... twice! I ended up in Summer School, helped by my (then) girlfriend, Ann Bellinger. I eventually passed the Summerschool test, and as a result I could join the USAF in September of 1954 as a HS grad. Which I did.
While in Basic Training at San Antonio Texas I had my last encounter with my very best lifelong friend, Leslie MacDonald, who was in pilot training. We played a game of chess. I won. He was pissed. He 'prophetized' that I would end up in Japan married to a Japanese woman.
Later, in Japan, I would learn that he had been killed in Japan after he had ejected from his F-100 too late on final approach after running out of fuel.
My last remaining friend from back in those days at Bishop England HS was Richard Maclean (sp - check the 1954 BEHS Yearbook). He went on to become a transport pilot (presumably because he was too tall for a fighter pilot).
Richard and Leslie were the two most influential people in my life. Richard taught me about Classical Music, and Leslie taught me about Short Wave Radio. My uncle Russ was at least equal to those two beloved friends: He took me for my very first airplane ride (in a Piper Cub) in about 1946.
By the way, my youngest sister, Libby, went with my brother David (the circumcised) to one of my HS Reunions back in 1994 or so. I did not attend, but Libby mailed me some photographs from that event. The most interesting photo was that of Anne Bellinger, my old girl friend from HS. She was poised on a stairway with her right hand extended and her middle finger extended, obviously Flipping The Bird to the photographer. She was 'smiling.' Her abdomen appeared to be somewhat swollen. I thought nothing of it for several years but eventually began to wonder why my sister bothered to attend me and my brother's reunion. Libby, unfortunately, turned out to be the creepiest member of our family. Some years ago I got a postcard from Libby saying, (tap) 'I wish we could be a family again.'
The 'tap' is significant. Gerash the stalker is very impulsive.
No, Libby. We will never be family again.
Viva Marijuana!
(3)
Sipping on beer #7 at 1809. Sip. And at this point we will digress to the very interesting experiment which I have recently been conducting regarding how brain function is improved over time sans booze. It's been 24 days now since my last confession (er, drunk), and since then I have been totally sober. I like it! Indeed, although I am working on beer #7 I am still feeling totally in control of all intellectual and emotional functions. Buzz is still minimal! Very interesting! Sip. The lesson to be learned here, I suppose, is that the longer the brain has to 'recompose itself absent drugs,' the better it does that job.
My guess is that four weeks or so of drug-free 'restoration' will do about 95% of that restoration job.
Which brings us to April 20, 2013, this coming Saturday. Marijuana Day. Viva Marijuana!
Life would be interesting enough without drugs. That much is true and we all know that. But drugs often enhance life in mysterious ways. I mean 'subtle drugs' of course. Aspirin, for example, is a subtle pain reliever. True, too much Aspirin can kill you. That is true. But Aspirin overdose kills only a relatively small number of people each year.
Marijuana is not so subtle. The neat thing about Marijuana - compared to Aspirin - is that it not only gets you really, really High, it will not kill you! You can not possibly smoke enough of it to kill you! Marijuana is not a lethal drug! (And by the way, in many situations, Marijuana is a much better pain killer than Aspirin. 'Pain' is complex.)
Indeed modern pharma pain killers are notorious for killing people instead of killing people's pain! (Congratulations to NBC for their recent discovery in that regard. Keep up the good work.)
But I digress.
Sipping on beer #7 at 1809. Sip. And at this point we will digress to the very interesting experiment which I have recently been conducting regarding how brain function is improved over time sans booze. It's been 24 days now since my last confession (er, drunk), and since then I have been totally sober. I like it! Indeed, although I am working on beer #7 I am still feeling totally in control of all intellectual and emotional functions. Buzz is still minimal! Very interesting! Sip. The lesson to be learned here, I suppose, is that the longer the brain has to 'recompose itself absent drugs,' the better it does that job.
My guess is that four weeks or so of drug-free 'restoration' will do about 95% of that restoration job.
Which brings us to April 20, 2013, this coming Saturday. Marijuana Day. Viva Marijuana!
Life would be interesting enough without drugs. That much is true and we all know that. But drugs often enhance life in mysterious ways. I mean 'subtle drugs' of course. Aspirin, for example, is a subtle pain reliever. True, too much Aspirin can kill you. That is true. But Aspirin overdose kills only a relatively small number of people each year.
Marijuana is not so subtle. The neat thing about Marijuana - compared to Aspirin - is that it not only gets you really, really High, it will not kill you! You can not possibly smoke enough of it to kill you! Marijuana is not a lethal drug! (And by the way, in many situations, Marijuana is a much better pain killer than Aspirin. 'Pain' is complex.)
Indeed modern pharma pain killers are notorious for killing people instead of killing people's pain! (Congratulations to NBC for their recent discovery in that regard. Keep up the good work.)
But I digress.
We Can Only Guess.
(2)
Bringing us to the question of, 'Why such a series of constant, violent attacks?' Your guess is as good as mine.
The news, now as I write this, is the 'Bombing...'
(Nose dripping due to MW Rad. I blew my nose just now and discovered a really red and juicy 'bible booger' from the right nostril in the tissue. I scooped it out and took it into the LR where I 'pasted it' into my Booger Bible at the beginning of The Story of Abraham.)
As I was about to write before I was so rudely interrupted, The News now is concerned with the 'Boston Marathon Bombing.' It is not yet being officially described as an act of 'terrorism.' We'll see.
Which brings me naturally to the general subject of 'Terrorism.' Indeed, a 'tap' above me as I wrote that just now brings a particular sort of terrorism to mind: Personal Terrorism.
----------
There is absolutely no doubt that I am under attack by an obsessed Jew who is also a homosexual and a rich lawyer. Lessee...
Jew.
Rich.
Lawyer.
Homosexual.
These disparate descriptions are not at all suggestive. Not at all. There are very many people who fit nicely into all of the above categories, and they do not engage in Personal Terrorism. Something is missing. A 'glue' is needed. That 'glue' is, Obsession. Obsession is the driving force behind all terrorism. In the particular case under consideration, the obsessive component appears to be related to the cultural myth described by the word, 'Soulmate.' Gerash, the rich Jewish homosexual lawyer thinks of me as his Soulmate. Why? Where did he ever get such a dumbass fucking idea?
We can only guess.
Bringing us to the question of, 'Why such a series of constant, violent attacks?' Your guess is as good as mine.
The news, now as I write this, is the 'Bombing...'
(Nose dripping due to MW Rad. I blew my nose just now and discovered a really red and juicy 'bible booger' from the right nostril in the tissue. I scooped it out and took it into the LR where I 'pasted it' into my Booger Bible at the beginning of The Story of Abraham.)
As I was about to write before I was so rudely interrupted, The News now is concerned with the 'Boston Marathon Bombing.' It is not yet being officially described as an act of 'terrorism.' We'll see.
Which brings me naturally to the general subject of 'Terrorism.' Indeed, a 'tap' above me as I wrote that just now brings a particular sort of terrorism to mind: Personal Terrorism.
----------
There is absolutely no doubt that I am under attack by an obsessed Jew who is also a homosexual and a rich lawyer. Lessee...
Jew.
Rich.
Lawyer.
Homosexual.
These disparate descriptions are not at all suggestive. Not at all. There are very many people who fit nicely into all of the above categories, and they do not engage in Personal Terrorism. Something is missing. A 'glue' is needed. That 'glue' is, Obsession. Obsession is the driving force behind all terrorism. In the particular case under consideration, the obsessive component appears to be related to the cultural myth described by the word, 'Soulmate.' Gerash, the rich Jewish homosexual lawyer thinks of me as his Soulmate. Why? Where did he ever get such a dumbass fucking idea?
We can only guess.
Here I am again.
(1)
Sipping on beer #2 at 1530. Sip. Just finished rereading the last post, which was some three weeks ago. Time flies when you're having fun? Uh, no. I'm back today for weather reasons, mostly. Snow for the next two days or so. But why so long between posts? Well folks, 'it's complicated:'
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I used to think that L and R 'lung gas' accounted for my coughing as a result of 'burning sensations' mostly in one or the other lung. That was the theory. But around March 15th or so it became obvious that L and R lung 'burning' was actually due to microwave radiation which was 'delivered' mostly from either the left side or right side of the body. I also attributed the buildup of mucus on the vocal cords (requiring 'throat-clearing') to what I called, 'constant throat gas.' It turned out that both the throat symptoms and the lung symptoms were actually caused by microwave radiation which penetrates into those structures. The throat symptoms also, it turned out, had a subtle 'directional component.' My guess is that the problems are 'felt' mostly in the bronchial tubes and connected airway. So I have learned much from the recent unusually violent attacks.
After about two weeks of such attacks, I was wheezing horribly and coughing frequently with huge amounts of mucus which had a decidedly self-cohesive nature, making it difficult to expell. I eventually developed a temperature of 101 and went to Kaiser. I didn't bother the doctor with my 'crazy theories' of 'microwave radiation' of course, but presented simply as 'sick with a lung infection.' The doctor listened to my lungs. 'You sound terrible.' We agreed. The doctor prescribed Amoxicillin and prednisone, both of which I survived. The microwave attacks slowly declined over the following two weeks or so to the point where I am almost back to normal.
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Sip. So here I am again.
Sipping on beer #2 at 1530. Sip. Just finished rereading the last post, which was some three weeks ago. Time flies when you're having fun? Uh, no. I'm back today for weather reasons, mostly. Snow for the next two days or so. But why so long between posts? Well folks, 'it's complicated:'
----------
I used to think that L and R 'lung gas' accounted for my coughing as a result of 'burning sensations' mostly in one or the other lung. That was the theory. But around March 15th or so it became obvious that L and R lung 'burning' was actually due to microwave radiation which was 'delivered' mostly from either the left side or right side of the body. I also attributed the buildup of mucus on the vocal cords (requiring 'throat-clearing') to what I called, 'constant throat gas.' It turned out that both the throat symptoms and the lung symptoms were actually caused by microwave radiation which penetrates into those structures. The throat symptoms also, it turned out, had a subtle 'directional component.' My guess is that the problems are 'felt' mostly in the bronchial tubes and connected airway. So I have learned much from the recent unusually violent attacks.
After about two weeks of such attacks, I was wheezing horribly and coughing frequently with huge amounts of mucus which had a decidedly self-cohesive nature, making it difficult to expell. I eventually developed a temperature of 101 and went to Kaiser. I didn't bother the doctor with my 'crazy theories' of 'microwave radiation' of course, but presented simply as 'sick with a lung infection.' The doctor listened to my lungs. 'You sound terrible.' We agreed. The doctor prescribed Amoxicillin and prednisone, both of which I survived. The microwave attacks slowly declined over the following two weeks or so to the point where I am almost back to normal.
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Sip. So here I am again.
