May Hall's dam
fawces be with you, Sarah Callio Martino of 1977, even if we had to
sacrifice the ELV-KING and myself, in the process. Hey, as if we
count, next to this Almighty All Powerful GODDESS of ATLANIC ESSCITY!
WEEEEEEEEE, Luke Russwalker!!!!
I stopped trying to
figure the great Sarah Krassle out a few billion millennia ago,
ladies and gentlemen. Maybe you should all follow suit. Sup-2U of
course, just sayin'.
Sharkey
tried to escape Atlantic City
many many many many many times, HTHS David Speas, but time catches up
with me over and over again, just like you seemed to be aware of, THE
VERY FIRST TIME, OLD MAGIC MARKER PAL FROM 1967. Oh
boy, I surrender Chemtrails Dorothy Gozzwald!!!!!!!!! Like WOW.
If
you liked the fucking song so much BILLY, why didn't you ever offer
to do a dam rendition, YO? Figuring out Planet Earth, without using
the ESS, is like building the city of Manhattan without ever using
any architectural engineering and mathematics, YO YO YO YO YO
DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sarah
Krassle is fucking up my computer. SOSO-WEIN-SSDD???????????????????
But that's a misnomer aniwho. It is not mine. Nothing belongs to
anyone according to old original English Law. The USA as colonies
more than two centuries ago, adopted the very same thing right here.
We own nothing. Go ahead, study it for yourselves at your local
fucking law library, or be quicker about it and ask any third year
law student or call a dam lawyer up. If we could really own our homes
just by not owing a bank or other financial institution, then we
would not have to ever pay another dime for the privilege of having
one all paid for. But we do. And if the highway needs to come through
where your house is, good luck saying no. You'll fare better against
the fuckiGN mafia. Try owning a car outright yet never paying
anything again, and I don't mean insurance or even a fee for having a
drivers license. Taxes and registration are there to silently prove
that we only have a TITLE OF USAGE, the right to copy, as in a
copyright, or the right to use a home or an automobile, or any
property. Think you own your television or anything else? Think
again, but don't believe this blog, ask a good attorney and then see
if I am a bullshitter or not, good folks! WHAAAAAAAAA, did I teach
you all anything?
I
TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE
CHAPTER
3
Yes
ma'am Melanie Safka of 1971, let me lay it all down, and may all the
WHITE'S, Julie and Sarah and Paula and any of them, RULE!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-----PLOP. Manhattan street cleaning crew and
Med-Examiners, please.
|
OH
LOVELY SARAH, THAT DAM CARRIAGE RIDE
IS
GETTING REAL BUMPY, BIG GIRL, © 2005.
FEBRUARY
27, 2015,
LATE
FRIDAY NIGHT AT 11:28,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 67 DEGREES FNHT.
WINDS
ARE N AT 10, GUSTING TO 23.
TEMPERATURE
RANGE TODAY, (H-67/L-59)
ANY
DAM TITLE WILL DO, EVEN THE SAME ONE, HUH POOLROY?
Bill
and Joann Marney, don't feel bad if you're still on this side of the
fuckiGN gravestones. I don't fuckiGN need Mister Hall's 1980 fawces
to tell me it was the ESS and SSJKK, that used you guys to wipe me
out at MARS. I wonder why she didn't hate me so much back when I was
Franklin. I was so interested in making zombies with things implanted
into dead bodies that resemble caveman days batteries, way back then,
when not windsurfing on my back, in the dam Boston Harbor. The ACBP
knows I still love to body surf on my back, and I never saw anyone
else do it; and I doubt that they fuckiGN did either, so
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SHEEEEEEEEIT. This is why they found the bodies
in my house from so long ago, in Philly. Go figure, I was more of a
nutcase then than I am in this life, only most peeps never knew about
it all, AHA-AHA-AHA $1.380 an hour Mike Mick! Shit, I'm going on a
giant helicopter ride now, Major Nohacks Brightideas! What
is this thing with giant typewriters,
Dick Woooooooooooooolf?
-------------------------------------------------GODDESS
DIANA, MY LOVELY LIGHTNING.
SSSSSSSSSOOOOOOO
MISTER CRANE SIR; SUP YO?????????
5555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG.
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida Television.
Note:
The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your
county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the
alert and the map processing.
|
Advisory
Colors Key
|
|
|
Winter
Storm Watch
|
|
|
Flood
Warning
|
|
|
Non-Precipitation
Advisory
|
|
|
Flood
Statement
|
|
I
Hurricane
watch/warning
I
Marine
Warning
AFTER
MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3
Early
on one particular afternoon, at the Richland Avenue Elementary School
of Quakertown, Pennsylvania; a group of exploratrons all jumped into
various students, sitting all around me, and one by one, and for
absolutely no god dam mother fucking reason whatsoever on this gods
green brown Earth; they began telling the teacher, Miss Mulhall; and
I quote, total lies concerning my behavior on the school bus, “He
hits on the bus, he spits on the bus” and although I managed to put
the rest of this below my conscious mind because it was so horrendous
for a six year old child to have to suffer this horrendous mother
fuckiGN torment and torture when I'd done no such thing, and in fact,
I thought I was losing my mind, and that I had done all these things,
and was going fucking crazy. It took me years to realize eventually,
that this was not me, as usual, being the bad guy, but the evil dirt
bag fawces of Mister Hall, doing despicable and monstrous things to
me. It might as well be 1977 or 1988, just as much as 2015 or 3535,
and great late sixties hit tunes as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! W—O—W.
We
have not had a blog that gets on the subject of Exploratronics for
some time now folks; so I figure it is high over do time right about
now. If you agree, great. If you don't, maybe this is not the blog
for you to waste your time reading, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Well,
the great family of bloody 1970 washcloths have taken their toll on
my life for quite some time, as I do not speak of this one human life
of a mere sixty years, and I do speak of how someone in their fold
and flock loves to remind me of that horrendous nightmarish grouping
of words they enjoy throwing my way, “Try
getting out of this one”.
Folks, I am not going to get out of anything, merely endlessly moving
from one situation to another where I may as well be literally
throwing myself through sheets of glass, only, what is the use? I can
still see that fucking bastard ''copper's eyeballs'' this very
second, and it has been a few ticks and tocks since somewhere in
early January of 1986, driving along that dark Woodbury, New Jersey
road, straight towards the Route-45 intersection, and these are no
driving instructions, lovely Doctor McDonald. I saw that
coppers-IIIIIBAULLS, BRO. Right there where I died on 45. So why am I
here, 30 years later after 1985, YYYYYYY JIMMY, and without even a
fuckiGN scratch? Maybe I should be asking Mister WOOOOOOOOOOOLF and
not you, James T. Burr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Slam-Slam, and at
midnight, what an asshole. Well, obviously
someone doesn't like my TYPEWRITER. Maybe I am not IBM'S 1986 TYPE.
Is that any fucking reason to covertly murder me all these cunt
chewing years, folks from H—E—L—L?????????????????? Maybe
Mister fucking Microsucks Lightbulb has an answer,
JIMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ed
Lynch from Mullica, New Jersey back in 2006 was waiting for me at the
Hammonton, New Jersey library, and so were all of the subatomic
STA's, huh Professor Kaku of NYU? All you need to do now sir, is
''see''. You can spell that CEY you know. WOW, if it gets a lot
better than this shit on some other blog, I will really be pissed off
at all my viewers who never comment to tell me the error of my ways
and show me where it does get better than Morianity, and print me a
click-address for me to go to, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
They
don't think I have got it all worked out, right down to all the giant
slut attacks, especially in ATLANTIC
FUCKING CITY, NEW JERSEY.
Well, that's all fine and cool and shit, folks. BUTT, I do have it
all worked out, and it is all about one thing, and most of you out
here could complete this sentence blindfolded. THE ESS. Only one
thing can explain a million such things as this particular attack.
Some are way worse than others, such as when I was surrounded one day
on the beach while with ANN, by a dozen Amazons, three heads taller
than me, and stunningly fuckiGN gorgeous as all piss squared!!! Only
the mother fucking ESS can explain how:
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
The
giant girl syndrome struck
I
don't care if I fuckiGN die from the FLU, from therapy, or from my
aunt Ruth's magical long Island Injections from Skywalker times of
Call-10 marriages. Pee hit Gemma so dam hard in a parallel universe,
that the great pharmaceuticals giants used my blog on their ads, ever
notice that, BRO? WOW! Jason Forrest of WFMU said on a comment around
late 6 or early 7 somewhere, “I made a lot of money out in CALI
with this blog. I'm sure you fucking did, fatso!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Turn down that fucking pull gain, mister Distortion
King!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You sound like a cross between
ghetto-hip and older rock, YO DOG!
Yes
PEE, I obey, up here in 2014!!!!!
JUST
DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!!!!!!! David
Roth knew all along!!!!!!!!!!!
NOW
IT'S 2015, DAVE IN THE GRAVE. SO DOES TIME STOP FOR PEOPLE, OR WAS IT
EVER REAL TO START WITH? HEY DON'T BELIEVE ME; I WAS ONLY DEAD
FOREVER. Right
to the end this all went down, but I would bet dimes to fart stink
donuts that if someone opened up those two graves, neither his mom or
him are inside there, Sergeant Trollio and Constable McMeekan. “REAL
GOOD GIRL” Shit don't make me laugh at myself at C-SQ, Professor
Kaku sir.
Does
that get me a pretty cheerleader or two, Ann King, without the
scolding, and if not, does it get me a 'W', does it get me a 'O', and
does it get me another dam 'W', Mister Macy and Mister Mackey? Grow
up and be a man, Daniel, my foot, you all came from the fucking
future or my name is Joe Shmo Shitmo!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yogi and I ain't
buying into all this coincidence fucking shit, sahwee, people!!!!!!!!
YEAH,
I KNOW, SAME OLD SONG BUT WITH A DIFFERENT BEAT. WELL, GO WIPE
OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS HANGING DAM HUNTINGTON IS JUST SAYIN'.
In
case you didn't get to the beginning of this new blog book, it is
reprinted on this third chapter now, great people. Obviously, I meant
to say a GIANT BLOND, NOT A giant blog. My bad. Or was it my bad? I
think these major fucking PBHE things are very organized, as
so many times, THEY MAJOR PUN OUT,
and people; if you think I am doing that all those times; to quote
the great EX-SENATOR FRED THOMPSON, on one of those great “L&O”
episodes of earlier this millennium, “You would be
wrong”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I swear that on my fucking
eternal hell. If I lie, I pray to the Pope that my hell never ever
stops in a decillion decades!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MARILOO. Let me
shut up B4I really get into trouble here, YO! BOB FCC FUCKING OLD PAL
MCDOWELL, THEY JUST USED THE FUCKING WORD DISAPPEARING HACK ON ME
AND HERE IT FUCKING CUNT GOES AGAIN, OLD COOLEY WORMHOLE HADDONFIELD
PAL!!!!!!!!!!! Their funeral old friend, as my bombing mission on the
ASTRAL PLANE will be starting very soon when I hit my fucking pillow,
oh great sir and old friend from the Johnny Fucker Faster Jokes days
in Dan Mackey's great class.
Oh
yes, my wonderful and extremely
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
GREAT
KIND FOLKS:
I
try very hard not to counter strike, but I am only going to take so
much of this bastard-bunch from fuckiGN hell and their relentless
fucking dam ass horse shit, and then KABOOM-KAPOW, and good night
fucking Archie Bunker's great nurse, YO!!!!!!
I
TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE
CHAPTER
2
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I
TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE
CHAPTER
2
There
is a real miscarriage of justice in this universe. Those who can
perpetrate the greatest hoaxes or operate the very best ultimate
conspiracies, can make the rest of us, mostly the honest who would
never think of trying to mislead anyone with lies and crap; and
because the are so great at their art and their craft, they
succeed in many ways, directly, and then also, indirectly. This
group of #%*#%^(@# from HELL that I have called on my blogs, the
MILITUFORCE, is the topic of conversation here, just in case that
is not yet realized. They invent religions, they invent wars, they
invent woes and troubles, and they end up always, with the lions
share of all the good things that this physical life has to offer.
The funniest part though is yet to come. They actually wonder why
so many peeps who even start to get onto any of this hocus pocus;
are bitching and moaning and complaining. They tell us shit like
'turn the page', 'get over it', 'tough it out', 'hang in there',
'keep the faith', and a million others just like this. If it was
not against the law, I would really draw a giant word picture of
who, what, and why, and then go onto tell you to fight them and
hate them, and cause as much trouble as possible. But that's not
legal, and so I am not telling anyone a thing.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Still, how dumb they think some of us little
99ers really are, are probably wagered about by these WOMO-M-2-F
entities in the flesh; and it would not shock me if they bet with
each other on stuff, just as Mel Gibson said in the great nineties
movie, 'Conspiracies Theory'.
To
In
Miss Mulhall's class, at the Richland Avenue Elementary School of
Quakertown, Pennsylvania; a group of exploratrons all jumped into
various students, sitting all around me, and one by one, and for
absolutely no god dam mother fucking reason whatsoever on this
gods green brown Earth; they began telling the teacher, Miss
Mulhall; and I quote, total lies concerning my behavior on the
school bus, “He hits on the bus, he spits on the bus” and
although I managed to put the rest of this below my conscious mind
because it was so horrendous for a six year old child to have to
suffer this horrendous mother fuckiGN torment and torture when I'd
done no such thing, and in fact, I thought I was losing my mind,
and that I had done all these things, and was going fucking crazy.
But there are certain places as well as power-points in
transdimensional reality, and in this case, we have the first
grade class, at a country school, back early in the
nineteen-sixties. But the Lambrigg Cult was not done with this, as
they ever are. They don't stand around in a boxing ring throwing
single punches. That is rarely how a fight is ever won; ask any
dam champion. They know how to be effective with all sorts of dam
ass major combinational blows, that WILL INDEED cause knockouts
and victories for them on a very regular an continual relentless
basis. Hey, I don't argue their strategies, their effectiveness,
or their ops record. I would never be that stupid and asinine. I
just tell you all now, that these mother fucking dirt bags are the
epitome of sub scum garbage, and I wouldn't give you ten cents for
the whole lot of them, any day, anywhere, to quote the mighty non
Bell-Tone, George Belton from 1983 and 1984, who I met in the
beginning of the final month of 1982, right around my dam
twenty-eighth birthday.
Well,
there is still hope for those who have miraculously graduated from
that really one celled mental state. I hope there are a few out
here, neutral, and who indeed have not totally made up their minds
against me and my claims, as hope burns eternal, right lovely
luscious Twinbay from Jersey?????????????? Holy shit, I will bet a
billion bucks, double or nothing, that you never thought you'd
hear that coming from asshole little me! WOW,
I
did say, Lois Foca 1980,
the one and only 1980.
Well I may not be Bob the vampire, TDA, or Roseann either; or even
the
retired carpenter from the future, back in 1981;
but
I knew then, I was not imagining any of this wild stuff, by pure
Yogi Berra anti-happenstance-logic!!!! WEEEEE! That, as Jennifer
Washburn put it so eloquently, would prove not a whole lot, so let
me just say this, in nice easy lingo. As of this present second,
my belief systems are not complex unless as with anything, you
wish to make it appear as though it is a lot more than it is.
Something has made my life a living hell and it is absolutely
organized, ever since I was a tiny child. This worsened in
absolute and definite stages along the time-line of my life. As
things grew into what they were around the time I was obsessed
with locating the mysterious teenaged girl from my past in
Atlantic City, New Jersey; I needed no convincing from the most
powerful ten top peeps on Planet Earth, that what I was going
through was real, and that psychiatry had nothing to do with shit.
Still, Sarah allowed me to collect disability, and to the world, I
had become not only the crazy nut I always was basically
considered to be, but now I was LEGALLY CERTIFIED. Many things
need to be done in this life to people who find out too many
fucking cunt secrets that are total ''NO-NO'' things to be found
out. The difference with me on all of this is something quite
fucking mind blowing and breaking. This entire deal was to get me
to become aware, ONE BY ONE BY ONE, of each and every one of these
horrendous dirty big secrets. This way I could legitimately pile
up Earthly and even cosmic enemies, and just look like to quote
the great Doctor Bruce Goldberg, “A NUT”, in his marvelous
untrumpable book from the late nineties, “Time Travelers From
Our Future”. Studying what I wrote in this final paragraph
peeps, will permit you to receive one hell of a huge key into me,
and into Morianity, and for that matter, into the secret worlds
that surround all of us, if nothing else is ever achieved, maybe
you can learn negatively!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WO
MISTER B.H.
Well,
relax Marcus Laines and Leticia Tilley. Katharine ain't too hungry
right now. I don't think that she is.
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12
local
South Florida Television.
Note:
The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your
county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the
alert and the map processing.
I
Marine
Warning
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD
YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD
YOU,
TOLD YOU, TOLD
YOU!!!!
GOD
DAM IT, I
TOLD YOU.
How
can it not go up to record highs every day forever, after all the
mother fuckiGN shit that the Milituforce is doing to me, 30 years
straight????????????
W------O------W
W------O------W
W------O------W
W------O------W
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Two lovely
moons are out at the great ES School at PSL, FL, USA, ESMWG. Well,
actually, it just looks like this, but aren't mother fuckiGN
illusions and maya cool? Reminds me of when I was a little fucking
bratty kid in my parents car, and seeing the water that isn't really
there, ahead of us on the asphalt roads. SHEEEEEEIT!
FEBRUARY
27, 2015,
FRIDAY
MORNING AT 1:52,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 62 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 93%, WIND CHILL IS 61 DEGREES.
DRIZZLE,
LIGHT WINDS NNW 6 TO 7.
I
LOVE TWB AND TWC, WHAAAAAAAAAA-BIT!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
JUST WALK AWAY, HUH DONNA SUMMER, WHILE NO RED COLOR IS ON
THEM?
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, HUH MIKE 1971 MCNULTY SIR?
I
TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE,
CHAPTER
1
Mailmen, bus-men,
water-people, and so much more, all notwithstanding, kind people; I
did try. I remember saying back around a dozen years or more back
now, while speaking of enjoying my air conditioning at the Mullica
Mobile Manor Trailer Park just east of Hammonton, New Jersey; ''Now
I'll be enjoying THE OTHER AC''
In
any case, something I heard while enjoying watching 'TWC' just today,
made me think of that, not that it triggered a lost to conscious mind
memory, as I do think often of that very thing that I had spoken onto
my CASSETTE TAPED LIFE JOURNAL that I was sort of keeping, as the New
Testament of the Morianity Bible, on tape, back then before my
'blogging career that never took off', all began.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
just cannot get my lovely LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA to visit with me
lately. I guess she thinks I haven't been a good boy. Oh well, I try.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT.
FEBRUARY
26, 2015,
THURSDAY
AFTERNOON AT 2:55,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY------(H-79/L-69)
HUMIDITY
IS 90%, HEADING FOR 80, FEELING 76.
Well,
dear life journal/diary, I asked my kitty cat Gawky
Gaukauk, WHY THE FRIKKIN' ASS STOCK MARKET IS FLYING ON A
SUPER RALLY FOR SO LONG, as well
as why I was struck down in early December with lots of health
problems, and got some real wild information. But does anything at
all shock poor old fucking git bag Mountainpen? Not on your dam ass
life, kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
Double Horizon Knowledge Barrier, or DHKB, is a very powerful
unpleasant truth, to many folks. BUT IT IS 100% REAL, LIKE IT OR HATE
IT. SAHWEE TUNA-CHAWEE!
I
had the maintenance crew next door pounding AGAIN, but this time it
was afternoon and I was already awake, praise GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some dam things work out, with or without a little 1978 luck. But
then, Mizz McGreggor from the year before that on the CALLIO MARRIAGE
YEAR of lighthouse taunts and others; lovely Mary, I am not torn, not
anymore. I learned too dam much about ESS for that to be my problem,
Shirley Grant! WO BILLY H-8!
MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---
My
days of keeping a LIFE JOURNAL ON CASSETTE TAPE, cannot be fathomed,
not by ten fucking thousand Albert Einsteins, even those that 'know
the diction of Mark Wayne Mohr and Sarah-Stacey Krassle', copyrighted
in or out of the ultra wild year of 1997, which won't even be
frikkin' touched on, on this journal of right now, tonight.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Oh yeah, I forgot, I never said that on tape,
only in print up here in the ''future'', but this, as are many things
and folks, is and are, singularly and plurally, RELATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!
In any case, SOONER OR LATER, MAGGIE IS GOING TO FUCKING KICK SOME
REAL FUCKING SERIOUS ASS, as only SHE CAN DO, Misses Elliot. The
world has no tiny little clue just how sorry I am for doing a lot of
really rotten ass fucking things over the past 60+ years now, but
that's just the way it goes.
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW, GREAT PEEPS!
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