SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0491

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0491

SERF OF SURF, NO MORE KING OF DAYLIGHT

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2293

SBT-DATFILE: 072712.207

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR (BSNF):

“MESSAGE TO THE POWERFUL PEOPLE TO THE SOUTH”

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Where to begin, Billy Shake? First I suppose is to say that this seems to be a magical day for my Lightning Goddess, I have not forgotten that, believe me. I have forgotten a lot of things, but then, most people would consider me by their standards, the chief of memory. Even the great Doctor Joseph Allousihes Gannon from that great old medical television show would probably like to place my mind under one of his lab microscopes, if this was not just fictional television from more than forty years back. For the life of me, Doctor Everett Simpson Chad, sir, I cannot come close to spelling that cool middle name of yours. Still, peeps won't believe me when I tell simple truths. I cannot work my electronic mail, it is all hacked up. Everyone thinks I make stuff up and lie about not being able to do anything. When I first posted a song on the YOUTUBE, I did not know that what I did on the computer, put phony counts on the system and I was disciplined and did not even know what I did wrong. I simply went to visit websites, only I kept clicking back into my account from the various sites, and did not know that I was supposed to know not to do this as it registers fake hits. I am not interested in fake hits. Everything I ever do is wrong, and everybody thinks I am a real bad guy. I believe that those closest to me even think this of me, and all I can do is say how sorry this makes me feel. Maybe if I just live life and stop trying to please anybody and stop being a nice guy, everybody will suddenly fall madly in love with me. Look at bikers. All non bikers will never ever figure out how they get an army of lovely women all around them, I mean really, some of these dudes, not all of them, I said some of them, are $%^&*^($*#@!!%^^&#$*. And then we could add a few more lines like this, yet everybody looks up to them, romanticizes them, you know, the mafia syndrome, like wow, aren't these dudes so cool. Well, I take this as a compliment, as the world hated a really good man a while ago, and his name was Jesus Carpenter. Look folks, I do not mean to be a prick, I am very sorry if I have offended or upset anyone at all, and especially those whom I care about. Try and understand that I would never make up a wild tale like following seemingly powerful and indisputable facts, or being hacked out of using the electronic world in ways that average nine year old kids do every day and think nothing of it. I cannot force anyone to believe me. Tony, if you ever run into Everett Simpson, as you are both pilots, PLEASE TELL HIM I MUST TALK TO HIM, it is a matter of life and hell eternal. Things changed for me in ways beyond blogability ever since I bought that blue nungen from him, whatever this codename really means in the telephone tapper world of BFA agents. My health is about gone, I will not be alive much longer, and I am the happiest person in the world, and cannot wait to leave this horrible awful place. But fir the sake of the remaining humanity, oh great highlander Guatemalans, please have Tony tell Everett to call me, or the universe may just pass out of existence forever in a quick puff, one big bang.

ET.