SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXXXIII (0683)
KING
NEBNOOSHOO
1988
PROPHET OF NOTHING
3:05
AM EASTERN STANDARD TIME
WEDNESDAY,
19 DECEMBER, 2012
BLAH-BLAH-BLAH-BLEE-BLEE-BLUM
DOGSHIT:
STARTING
THE BLOG, FOLKS:
Here
is what happened on BOTBAR TIMES BOTBAR, AKA BOTTOM
OF THE BARREL ALREADY RATED X 11, as eleven is the
number of BOTBAR: First off, I did manage to get the song up onto my
Youtube channel, the only thing that worked out, and will remain a
silent mystery for now, as it must, so do not even try to figure it
out, and I'm only holding these details back, for the good of two
persons, and I am 50% of that equation.
I
GOT CUNT LAPPING CREMATED IN MY MY ROULETTE TODAY, not
a system crash, but a loss of 20 units, plus another
nearly that much, in green house-vig losses; but I will make it up in
a few days to a week or so; and only if I do not, will it be a
SYSTEMS FUCKING FAILURE. Remember
also that I would never play anything but hypothetical roulette on
days such as these past eleven days, in a real time real world
casino. I am using the Frank Sinatra New York City attitude, that if
a system can make it when things are this totally bad for me, as luck
does follow exactly the way life does, and this in fact is the reason
WHY the Atlantic city casinos declared war on me back in fucking ass
1986 and began this torment of me, all these years, led by TYPE-3
EXPLORATRON ALL MIGHTY, and super
quintessential jerk off prick ass shit eater, Donald JB Trump, the
marvelous, without any houses owned by Judge Frank Rasso or any of my
2008 autumn blogs at the www.blogger.com/
website.
I
won't lie and tell you that things are not worse for me than they
ever have been during this period of nearly 27 years, since the 15th
of mother fucking August, in 1986, when this all started on a dime
and totally out of nowhere, despite my life being far from normal or
perfect, before that, there still was a marked difference and I used
to have concrete evidence and proof of that as I kept not only a life
journal on cassette tape, but a mathematically rated daily journal
and charts, where every single day was rated in various life
parameters, and I knew after this was about a year or two old in 1987
or 1988 in around that time, that the charts were nothing but a lot
of Jane Sleazebag Notfondau “ONES”, and hardly ever, any numbers
of 2, 3, 4, or 5. Also, this change happened
exactly on the date specified, 08-15-1986, and
this is why I make such a mother fucking gargantuan deal out of this
on my blogs, and have been doing for the entire 7-years of my
blogging career.
Now
I know that for some reason, a bunch of folks are reading these blogs
and are interested in them, but they have no interest in my music
that is totally part of my life and always has been, these blogs
would not even exist if not for my song writing since the day I was
around toddler age when I wrote a silly little diddy that my parents
said was wild and catchy, called, “Ice Cube Brown”. I wish the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE would take the song's advice from 1959, and I speak
of the endlessly repeating second part after the title repeats, they
know what's being said here, I have come to learn in the past decade,
that there is absolutely NOTHING
that these diseased sick fucking bastard soulless mother fuckers, to
quote the now late Dawn-Marie King, do not know. My point remains
that I do not understand why the viewers of the blogs, do not ever
listen to the songs I posted on YOUTUBE, when the connection, I
promise you, goes beyond being significant, it is a direct 100%
reality. Melanie Safka and some others are not the only ones who
write songs that they know personally, are about their real life and
experiences. Crissake Sidney Ellisberg Crown, look at my kid, if you
really are one of her fans, you know not only that, but you really do
have to wonder if McGuire is the only one in the bunch I would not
turn my back on if he is holding his lighter in his hands, Jesus
God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I say McFire? I never
said I was your uncle, Dawn-Marie King, you in your little fantasy
world, started all that shit, don't look at me. I never said that,
nor did I ever say you have to like, love, sing, or write music, but
I do ask a question of my blog viewers. Why have you no interest in
my music that is totally connected with all of this that you seem to
want to keep reading? I know, as all sites have counters, and no one
goes to my YOUTUBE, but everyone comes to my blogs, well, a lot of
folks. Next to top bloggers, I would blow away like a piece of city
liter in a small wind gale. I know that, but still, it gets hits, and
hits, but my music gets none. This leads me to totally believe, that
only the family and the WOMO are reading me, and that is a very big
big number amount, and they do not touch my music with a 100 light
year pole, because they know and understand the power of
transdimensional music posted onto an electronic system.
I
will totally know by nightfall tonight, if my theory is proved out,
as the view count is 7 on the new post, and all from me doing stuff
with it, no actual outside views,
and now I am posting what I tried to post earlier and have saved on
my documents, the lyrics as well as the song direct video link,
needing only a click. Then you can put the lyrics back into another
window if you want to, or print them out, but if not one person
changes the view count, then I will know you are all the family and
the WOMO out here, and no one else, and so I will stop these blogs
and you can get off on reading Misses Loraine G. Johnson and her blog
of sex toys, for all I care, this blog will be over, and removed from
the internet.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH:
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
AND
END OF THIS BLOG, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AND ALL SILWEE WABBITS,
MISTER FWUDD, WHAAAAAAAA!!
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