*/flicks lighter…*
*/lights up…*
*/drags…*
*/streams smoke…*
*/coughs…*
*/spits…*
*/smokes…*
*/taps ash…*
*/stubs butt…*
*/flicks lighter…*
*/lights up…*
*/drags…*
*/streams smoke…*
*/coughs…*
*/spits…*
*/smokes…*
*/taps ash…*
*/stubs butt…*
*It’s Cade’s birthday on Thursday, Clicky… /lights up… He’s gonna be 51…*

*/drags… No, 1967, Clicky, not the 67th century…*

*/plumes smoke… No, you’re finking of ‘breech’, Clicky… /flicks ash… Breach means ‘gap’…*
!Goo Ten Tauk Scam Baags!
I’m giving serious consideration to changing my name to Auntie Prose. Ya see, it’s like this… I just saw a tweet from the one and only RooBeeDoo, and that Tweet talked about some fuck who appears to be the founder of ANTIFA. Yeah, it appears ANTIFA has a founder. Not to get too far off course here, but shit like that really bends my head and always has.
EX: anarchy/anarchist groups, nihilists, etc.: You’ve got people who need to form groups, to oppose other groups. Now, I’m guessing that if you form some group, and the formation of this group doesn’t inspire the creation of an opposition, it could be said that you stand unopposed. Welp, that’s likely gonna scare some people. No one likes a group that stands unopposed, unless of course you are a member of said unopposed group. Then everything is fine and dandy.
Digresso-supremo.
Anti-Pro’s: It’s not a new concept. Professional opposition. Hired-hands, muscle, goons, soldiers of fortune, mercenaries, private security companies, private security forces, bouncers, luddites, unions, union-busters, and even professional law enforcement and armies…you name it…we like to outsource the muscle work. Professional Antis. Supposedly, even God has manifested a professional Anti that is said to oppose him/her or whatever.
So if George Soros, or anyone else for that matter, really did fund/is funding the hiring of muscle for ANTIFA, so what? I bet that around election time, your own political party hires all kinds of canvassers, phone bank workers, envelope stuffers, signs and poster makers, t-shit and bumper sticker makers, graphic designers, image consultants, accountants, creative consultants, and all kinds of peeps to get your message across…hammer that message in so you can win come election day.
So yeah, muscle-work. Even if they are unpaid volunteers, you are still creating the roles/positions for these volunteers to fall into. Auntie Prose, I’ve acquired a new nickname.

You ever wonder how many miles are on motor oil before it even goes into your car? Seriously, what kind of shake-and-bake bullshit has to transpire to make the different “crude” oils what they are, and how many miles did that oil travel in the process in order to process into what it is?
Method for age-dating oil is developed. STANFORD — The Jurassic (180 million to 140 million years ago) was a very good age for oil formation. So too was the Cretaceous (140 million to 65 million years ago). But, until now, oil industry experts have lacked a direct way to date their crude. – Aug 4, 1994
– Source: Google – 11 November 2018
Damn, no progress since 1994? There are a lot of different crude oil types, so the fact that they’ve not developed a method to date these things say to me that it’s likely that someone has developed a method, but it’s probably locked away as some trade secret. Anyway, so it appears science is still hooked on the notion that dinosaur blubber is the origin(s) of most crude oils, so let’s us use a median average between 65 and 180 million years. 180 + 65 = 245, and 245 / 2 = 122.5, so we’ll go with 122.5 million years.
K, so we’ve got a few dynamics to calculate here. Earth’s rotational speed around its own axis, Earth’s rotational speed around our Sun/Sol, and our Sun/Sol’s rotational speed through the Milky Way Galaxy. There’s also going to be some dynamics that we are going to leave out, like calculations involving the distance(s) that our planet travels as it wobbles on its own axis, we’ve got aphelion and perihelion which are baselines for the distances that Earth/Terra travels toward and away from the Sun/Sol, we’re also going to have the distances that various oil deposits travel to and from each other as our planet’s crust moves here and there, and there are considerations with respect to velocity and speed as to the geographic location of a particular deposit and it’s position relative to Earth’s axis, distance from the Sun/Sol at a given moment, distance from the galactic core.
That’s not all of them, but there is also likely to be some zeroing as some of these planes cross each other here and there, and I personally would prefer not to think about those right now just for the sake of space.
(lolz...”for the sake of space”...lolz)

Earth/Terra spins at approximately 1,000mph, which is 460 m/s, which is 503 yards per second. That’s why I added that image above. That’s the new Texas Stadium or Cowboys Stadium or AT&T Stadium or whatever it’s called, and the football field itself, endzone to endzone, is 100 yards long. Contextually, your ass is slinging around the planet and covering 5 of those distances every second, of every day. So I guess your ass is indeed pretty big afterall if it can cover 500 yards in a single second.
Earth/Terra spins around our Sun/Sol at approximately 67,000 mph, which is 29,952 m/s, which is 32,756 yards per second. That means that, heading around the Sun/Sol, your ass is covering the distance of almost 328 football fields every second of every day.
Let's recap...
We cover 5 football fields per second around our own planet.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 432,000 football fields per day.
We cover 328 football fields per second around our own star.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 28,339,200 football fields per day.
We'z coverin' some ground, eh? Let's go galactic.
Just curious about something before we go galactic…
…does that looks like it’s moving at several different speeds in several different directions all at the same time to you? Looks kinda still…almost placid.
Meh fuckit...whatever.
Look, I know it prolly appears that I sometimes employ some delaying types of tactics in my writing. You’d be right to make such an assumption, because I do. I have no clue who reads this shit, nor what they get out of it. However, what I do know, is that if you start thinking about some of this shit, and start getting the hang of visualizing and understanding it, you’re gonna feel it. Yeah, you are likely to actually feel shit being all spinny and wobbly and speedy, and it’s likely to make more than just and only your head spin.
Not saying that it will happen, but if it does happen, I would like for you to have a little bit of a heads-up as to what might be coming. I had no such warning, and had to learn a lot of this shit the hard way. It is not my intention to fuck with your head – would just like to maybe give you something to grab onto should you need to do so. When thinking about this kind of shit when I was younger, I’ve gotten stuck in loops to where I couldn’t stop thinking about it, shit wouldn’t stop spinning and wobbling, and it was some scary-assed shit to experience. Felt like it was never going to end, and I usually wound up in a sobbing mess on the floor crying myself silly.
(softly of course...don't want to attract attention to yourself...another lesson hard-learned)
OK!!! So…the Sun/Sol travels around the Milky Way Galaxy at approximately 515,000mph, which is 230,226 m/s, which is 251,778 yards per second. That means that, as our Sun/Sol + our own planet is traveling through our own galaxy, our collective asses are covering the distance of almost 2,518 football fields every second of every day. With that in mind, let’s add one more quick calc that I didn’t mention before, and that is the speed at which our own Milky Way Galaxy is thought to move through the Universe.
Our galaxy moves through The Universe at approximately 1,300,000mph, which is 581,152 m/s, which is 635,556 yards per second. That means that, as our galaxy flies around the Universe, a lot of collective asses are covering almost 6,356 football fields, every second, of every day. Let’s sling some ketchup on this hotdog…
We cover 5 football fields per second around our own planet.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 432,000 football fields per day.
We cover 328 football fields per second around our own star.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 28,339,200 football fields per day.
We cover 2,518 football fields per second around our own galaxy.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 217,555,200 football fields per day.
We cover 6,356 football fields per day around our own Universe.
86,400 seconds in a day for a total of 549,158,400 football fields per day.
So far, we each of us are covering combined distances the equivalent of 795,484,800 American Football fields per day. No wonder everyone is always so tired, eh? And speaking of being tired, can you imagine the numbers that are about to come out the other side when we start trying to figure out how much distance oil has traveled over the past 122.5 million years? I’m thinking this shit already has some MAJOR fucking mileage on it before the first drop ever even makes it to your car’s engine.

Nauseous yet? Me too. Let’s us take another detour.
Ever stop and wonder about what it takes to overcome some of these forces that are happening without our knowledge? We don’t even think about this shit most of the time, so when you do start thinking about it, shit can sometimes get a little wonky, and you gotta find a way to reel your ass back into the here and now. We don’t want to be that drowning person that will grab anything and everything to save their own ass, because we might wind up drowning someone else in the process. So let’s think a bit about Emmitt Smith, a dude that likely never would have ran a single step in the NFL had Jimmy Johnson never been hired to replace Tom Landry as head coach of The Dallas Cowboys, and how in the flying-fuck this unlikely guy went on to break the unbreakable NFL rushing record that was set by Walter Payton of The Chicago Bears.
Have you thought about it? Me too...let's move on.

November 11, 2018. Veteran’s Day. Armistice Day. 100 years ago, some guns went silent…for a while. Just thought I’d give it a mention, but what and who I personally am thinking about are not so much the veterans as much as I’m thinking about those that remember.
Yeah, us.
I’m thinking about what we are thinking about. I don’t know you, and I have no idea what you are thinking about. I’ve seen some tweets here and there this morning, and I admit that I have a jaded side to me that wonders why someone would announce what they are thinking with respect to a war that seems to be pretty much a complete mystery to almost everyone. Is it some bandwagon effect that makes people make various remembrance posts on Armistice Day?
Well fuck, what's wrong with a bandwagon on a celebratory day?
I was under the impression that bandwagons were almost a requirement at celebrations. Assuming they are available anyway. War tends to be hard on wagons, carts and other wheeled vehicles. It’s weird what is at a premium, to whom and when.
I wonder if Mad Max was ever really concerned about the octane rating of his fuel.

Did you happen to notice that I selected an image of Cowboys Stadium that had an American flag covering the entire playing area of the football field?
I wonder why I did that.
Prolly all the brainwashing and programming that takes place in order to make me some “rah-rah” type of good old-fashioned American citizen type person. But it also could have been for more than one reason. Like say…letting some overseas friends know the actual length in distance that this 100 yard measuring stick entails. They might get confused and think that the endzones are included in that 100 yard distance, but they aren’t. Not to mention that the lateral distances (width) that are contained/represented in a football field tends to add a largeness to the measure that just ain’t there.
We like to break things down into more relatable units, but using an American Football field can be deceiving. I’ll give you an example of what I’m talking about by trying to find out how many threads are contained in the flag that is pictured above.
K, that article doesn’t tell us how many threads are used in the making of one of these huge flags. However, the article does mention that the flags weigh 1,200 lbs (544 kg), and it also mentions the company that rents these things out.
Those poor bastards are gonna have to change their name if Puerto Rico ever gets statehood or Hawaii bails. I hope that happens, because these asshats don’t have a FAQ on their website. Anyway, yeah, football fields are 160 feet wide (53.33 yards), so that width can be deceiving when using a football field as a standard measure of length. Especially since these football fields tend to be located in these massive stadiums that seat tens of thousands of people. I’m not trying to deceive anyone, so I personally suggest you take a single 100 yard long thread out of that flag, then stretch that thread out straight. You can then kinda bop back and forth between the thread and the football field to kinda maintain your bearings a little better.
Let’s see how far we travel, in football field lengths, in the span of one year. Here’s our base with our bases.
Earth’s Axial Rotation = 432,000 football fields per day.
Earth’s Solar Rotation = 28,339,200 football fields per day.
Sol’s Galactic Speed/Rotation = 217,555,200 football fields per day.
Milky Way’s Speed/Rotation = 549,158,400 football fields per day.
Let’s use a 4 year cycle since there is an extra day in a year every fourth year, which means 1,461 days. We are using a median average of 122.5 million years, so let’s find out how many 4-year cycles are contained in 122.5 million years.
122,500,000 / 4 = 30,625,000
So what we’ll do, is find out how many football field distances are covered in 1,461 days, then see if we can estimate some distances terrestrial oil deposits have traveled over the past 100+ million years. I’m also gonna do this…
Earth’s Axial Rotation = AD (Axial Distance)
Earth’s Solar Rotation = SD (Solar Distance)
Sol’s Galactic Speed/Rotation = GDI (Galactic Distance Internal
Milky Way’s Speed/Rotation = GDE (Galactic Distance External)
Gotta keep in mind that we are observing all this shit from the fixed point that is our own planet. There are both internal and external galactic speeds which will vary, they have varied over time, and they will continue to vary over time. We’re just trying to get the most basic of ideas as to how many miles are on unused motor oil, and I’m trying to do so without taking certain things into consideration. Things like vertical distance traveled from below ground to surface, distance traveled from surface to storage, distance traveled from storage to refinery, distance traveled within the refinery itself, on and on. It never stops.

It’s now Sunday evening, I’ve just finished watching a movie called Sleuth, and as you may have guessed, I’m contemplating some dynamics that keeps a curved vector/trajectory curved.
Think about the Earth spinning, but instead of the curve continuing to curve during a rotation, the surface of the planet begins to peel off and straighten. If you think about peeling a tater or apple or something similar, it probably won’t be that difficult to imagine the surface of our planet peeling off. The dynamics that keep a curve vector curved tho?
Yeah, weird shit.
Take peeling an avocado for example. Or maybe a tomato. You are going to encounter forces that are working much harder to keep that peel on, and you are going to have to utilize specialized tools/processes to get those skins off. And yes, I’m well aware of you fucks that are going to say that peeling a fruit or vegetable while on the Earth’s surface is in no way representative of the forces at work which keep the planet’s crust in place. Fair enough….my shit doesn’t fit into your architectures.
But you fucks are missing something.
I sometimes get the feeling that you are looking right at it. It’s right here for us all to see. I’m not trying to find ways to defeat these dynamics, nor am I looking for ways to overcome them. But something very interesting that I’ve considered over the past few months and years is a concept that it may in fact be possible for matter to operate according to two separate governing dynamics. In these instances, two bodies that are independently operating according to opposite sets of dynamics can come into proximity to one another, but only for limited times, interaction(s) is/are limited, and any deviation by either is catastrophic.
I admit that I’m having difficulty getting this bullshit over and done with. I really don’t want to have to start slamming these big numbers together, but fuckit, let’s get this shit over with.
AD
432,000 x 30,625,000 = 13,230,000,000,000 x 4 = 52,920,000,000,000
So, Earth has spun the length of 52,920,000,000,000 football fields in the last 112.5 million years.
SD
28,339,200 x 30,625,000 = 867,888,000,000,000 x 4 = 3,471,552,000,000,000
So, Earth has circled the length of 3,471,552,000,000,000 football fields around our sun in the last 112.5 million years.
GDI
217,555,200 x 30,625,000 = 6,662,628,000,000,000 x 4 = 26,650,512,000,000,000
So, our Sun/Sol + Earth has traveled the length of 26,650,512,000,000,000 football fields through our own galaxy in the last 112.5 million years.
GDE
549,158,400 x 30,625,000 = 16,817,976,000,000,000 x 4 = 67,271,904,000,000,000
So, our galaxy has traveled the length of 67,271,904,000,000,000 football fields around the Universe in the last 112.5 million years.
That’s a lotta miles, in a lotta different directions, all at the same time, over a very long period of time. Now, this is just me, but that brand new oil you just bought to put in your car? Yeah, it’s got some SERIOUS fucking mileage on it already. Might wanna think about changing it.

How was that for you? Pretty good I hope.
What's that?
Yes…I feel better too, thanks for asking. Sometimes I think it’s good to go ahead and explore these things a little bit further to get a better understanding of what kinds of distances and volumes we are talking about. I mean, we are talking about oil, which means that we are also talking about oil fields. With football fields, and even the similar football pitches or rugby fields, we can get a better idea about the size(s) and volume(s) of mass moving through vast distances at great speeds over very long periods of time. Which will bring me to my next point, which is…
A: ?¿?¿@!#$%^&?¿?¿
Yeah, I don’t fucking know either. But I do think about displacement and relocation a lot, and especially as those concepts relate to the more terrestrial dynamics of things like plate tectonics, the ebb and flow of tides, wind and water currents, and virtually anything and everything that moves or doesn’t move. This is right down to the migratory habits of animals, any aberrations thereof, and the potential causes. I do try to keep in mind tho that Naturalism is still a fairly new concept within the modern context. I mean fuck, The Origin of Species was published in November of 1859.
That ain't that long ago.
Horology is not a popular science so far as I’m aware of, and the lure of the quantum realms seems to be holding the attention of many people. So let’s break on out of here, and talk a bit about that Camp Creek Road Fire that’s causing quite a bit of dismay out in Californy right now.

Watched a video by the Blancolirio channel on YT today, and Juan is stating that all indications are, at this point, pointing to the fire being caused by power lines. Oddly enough, there was a vague reference in a movie today to an English power provider, but I’ll let Roob expand further on that here if she chooses to do so.

*The number plate on that car is too small to properly see, Clicky…*

*Much better… /pats snout… Although the movie was not as good as the original…*
Anyway, we’ve got loads of high-tension lines that span this great country of ours. Not only high-tension lines, but roads, train tracks, underground pipes and wiring of all kinds, and I’m wondering what this shit has been doing and is going to continue to be doing to ground movement(s). You also got farming and irrigation, plus river damming and river redirection to consider…just sayin. But if land can’t move, is that more likely to cause that land to be less receptive to the absorption of water?
I’m just thinking that if these lateral forces aren’t allowed to move in the ways that they are accustomed to moving in, couldn’t that potentially cause the lateral forces eventually begin to interfere and/or intermingle with the more vertical forces in ways we’ve not previously considered? Maybe soil preparation(s) and/or improvements on land aren’t the only factors involved in all of these sinkholes that keep appearing everywhere. If you force two things together long enough, sumpin’s gotta give.
Ever stopped to think about how interstate highways and other roadways affect the migration and movement of wildlife? Or is that kind of thinking only important when some critter jumps out in front of your automobile and threatens your insurance rates. Welp, there’s a lot more caging going on than just only zoos and pet shops.
A: ¿╝0╚|╗0╔?
Maybe you should look that up. It’s kinda on the subject(s) of what we’ve talked about here. Wind turbines and solar farms just kinda highlight a lot of the killing that goes on daily that no one sees or cares about. But yeah, caged gyros and/or gyro caging…check it out if you want.
Or not.

I wonder how our planet was able to accommodate the accumulation of all these oil deposits in the first place. I mean, were there at one time, layers of hollow that filled up after all the dinosaurs croaked? Just thinking, that if oil indeed comes from decaying organic matter, dinosaurs are the source primary source of this organic matter, yet dinosaurs were killed by some catastrophic meteor/asteroid or comet? Welp, that prolly doesn’t bode well for there being a bunch of hollows filled by rotting dinosaur flesh. Seems like if there was some acute global trauma, and the planet had hollows, there would have been lots of collapsing and collapses. So how’d this shit get to where it is? Especially all that shit under the ocean(s).
Something don't add up.
Prolly because I never went to school/am uneducated. That said, maybe there was a bunch of hollows that collapsed, loads of shit went in when things collapsed, then it was all covered up over time. I mean hell, The Bible talks about shit getting swallowed up in short order, and not just and only the Bible. All kinds of other stories the recount things getting swallowed up.

I just looked down at the page counter and noticed that I’m on page 8/8, so I’m gonna STFU now. I don’t want Roob to have a panic attack upon opening this piece of shit. I hope and trust that your weekend was a grand one, and that your coming week be full of happiness and smooth sailing for you and yours.
Namastate
cYa | cFa
*Oh yeah, Clicky… /stubs butt… he’s definitely got imagination. An’ then some…*
*/lights up… ‘Kyle’ means ‘narrows’, Clicky… /drags… I did knot gno that… /fills lungs with smoke… or that it’s a city in Texas… /streams smoke…*
*Her? …./flicks ash… Ugh! Hideous! Gno wonder the Yanks elected a complete Tool…*
*Thanks, Clicky… /drags… but that’s really not necess-…*
*-ary… /blooms smoke… Ooh that’s what I doo when I get home from work…*





*/drags… That’s an interesting point he makes about Frankie’s phone, Clicky… /blows smoke rings… It contained all the dirt on what the Trump surrogate wanted hidden…*

*Whereas the Trump surrogate’s phone…*

*…Was left lying next to the sync…*

*… And got covered IN dirt…*

*Good fing… /final drag… I don’t know any Frankies, Clicky… /winks… Or Kevins… /breathes out smoke…*

*The Remnants from ‘The Ghost Monument’? …/stubs butt… Now you come to mention it, Clicky, they are a bit Archon-like in appearance…*
The Latin phrase sub rosa means “under the rose”, and is used in English to denote secrecy or confidentiality, similar to the Chatham House Rule. The rose as a symbol of secrecy has an ancient history.

*Oh I quite agree, Clicky… /lights up… It wasn’t that bad… /drags… *
*/plumes smoke… Blimey! A kids’ show finking of the children? Well I never… /feigns surprise… *


*Good idea, Clicky… /pats snout… Now Dear Reader has a clearer picture, so to speak…*






*/taps ash… Fuckin’ ‘ell, Clicky! …/drags… Stanley Kubrick married Ruth Sobotka on mum’s 10th birthday… /puffs contentedly…*







*/final drag… I’m tellin’ ya, Click, what happened next was fuckin’ weird…*


*/stubs butt… You know what Marilu Henner is also famous for, Clicky?*
*Oh you do gnos… /squints… Smart arse. Get a Song…*
*Oh nice ‘Previously at the LoL…’, Clicky… /pats snout… Art magic and an anchoring cigar…*
*/lights up… Kudos to Leggy for managing to get the book out on time… /drags… Elongated art, eh?*

*/streams smoke… An’ thinking about it, Clicky, ‘Arry Egg’s in my second story… /flicks ash… And can I just say, the choice of biscuit… /drags… took the fuckin’ biscuit…*

*Nifty… /blows smoke ring…*

*PPE… /drags… Purple. People… /winks... Eponymous…*

*Oh alright… /snorts smoke… She ate the biscuit at the end of the episode. Picky…*

*/drags deeply… Leggy never mentioned the Third Doctor employed Venusian Aikido, Clicky… /plumes smoke… Butt then he calls the furred one a popinjay… /rolls eyes…*

*That was pure Loopiness, Clicky… /flicks ash… Pitch perfect screaming…*

*/final drag...*

*/stubs butt…*

*Me too, Clicky… /pats snout… Me too…*

*Starting with a selfie of us with Rose eh, Clicky? …/lights up… The Blue universe is as gooda place to start as any…*
*But actually I’m gonna start in the Aqua universe… /drags…*

*Whoa there, Clicky… /streams smoke… We’ll get to the Tardis in part 2… /taps ash… First let’s show Dear Reader how tobacco saved the day…*
*Quite…*

*Art Majik… /puffs… on a cruel, deadish planet called Desolation…*

*Tobacco! Promoted on a kid’s tv programme? …/sniggers… Butt it’s so politically correct, Clicky…*



*Even after an epic rant about guns, Clicky, she detonates a fucking EMP bomb and fries the insides of an army of sniperbots… /nods approvingly… *



*/final drag… Nicely done, Clicky… *


*Get a Song, Clicky, love… /stubs butt… It’s too late to start Part 2 tonight. Those gifs took for fuckin’ ever to make…*
Earth (v.)
“to commit (a corpse) to earth,” late 14c., from earth (n.). Related: Earthed; earthing.

*Pass us me fags, Clicky. Ta… /lights up… This could be a shambles an’ half…*

*/drags… Bin nuffin butt sunshine recently in Frank’s posts in the Red universe, Clicky… /plumes smoke…*


*/drags… You gno, this ‘ol premise reminds me of sumfin, Clicky… /streams smoke…*
*I say, interesting choice of first alien baddie for her toof ace, Clicky… /plays with lighter…*
‘Ryan’s view count is nineteen, which is a CLEAR AND UNAMBIGUOUS reference to Paul Hardcastle’s iconic song about the Vietnam War, indicating a likely story arc for Series 12. And his subscriber count is sitting pretty at thirty-seven, which is not a random number and certainly NOT A COINCIDENCE. Thirty-seven, you will recall, is the age of Dennis the political peasant in Monty Python and the Holy Grail – a film that introduced us to the delightful Tim the Enchanter. You see? There was a whopping great clue about the identity of this episode’s villain smack bang in the middle of the opening scene, and not ONE of you noticed. Not one. I’m not angry, folks, I’m just disappointed.’
*/flicks ash… an’ furty seven’s also the atomic number of Roob Idiom… /puffs…*
*Kaiser? …/taps teeth… Yeah, I’ve heard that name a lot in the news recently… /drags…*
*Onna Crane! …/blows smoke ring… Well done, Clicky! She remembers she gnos who she is on a crane… /pats snout…*
* ‘Opefully tomorrah, Clicky… /final drag… and UAVI to be published to more ah as well…*
*I saw that last night, posted in the Blue Frank’s universe…/snorts smoke… Another smoker falls to their death ‘cos of nasty Not-see policy… /bows head…*

* /stubs butt… Mount Lebanon, PA…*


*/lights up… To err is human, Clicky… /drags… and that was said by A POPE… /squints… So there! …/sticks out tongue…*
‘Next up at the LoL will be a series of posts exploring the whirled of MRS REGN – pronounced Rain/Rein/Reign – and Cade has very kindly offered to play along.’

*Purely a short cut, Clicky… /squints… Now stop interrupting…*

*/flicks ASH…*

Howdy. Yep…it’s me…Loudmouth McTalksalot (Cade). Sorry to buttinski here, but I’m gonna.
I just recently asked RooBeeDoo a question about “Gang Stalking“, and asked this question within the context of a certain video that I forwarded to her for her opinion(s).
My Q: What branch of MRS REGN would “gang stalking” fall under?
Her A: Growth.
Purple = Growth.
This was, and is, interesting to me. Her whole MRS REGN business interests me because of it’s relationship to the chakras, but more than that, it interests me because of how Roob found these things. She’s told me that she never connected the two until I said something about it, and I believe her. I mean, were it not for books, television, radio, the Internet, and their related structures, one could potentially stumble upon and create a virtually identical system without prior knowledge of the existing system even being there.
I personally see this as a type of providence…very substantive and very direct. A very specific and likely very personal reason for revisiting an existing something in a new way with and via a new set of eyes and/or experiences. So yeah…a smart one that RooBeeDoo is. Saw something that needed doing, and did it. To think that a certain something that was devised “here” is equally applicable to somewhere else where this system does not exist/has not existed? Doesn’t make sense to me…but that’s just me.
I’m not particularly fond of a system that ignores the individual, or a system that is willing to ignore the individual, all for the sake of that system.
/shrug
*Heh… /puffs merrily… A tail of/to CT’s… /merrily puffs… You’re such a wag, Clicky… /pats snout…*
Joe Fox: Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. She was too proud.
Kathleen Kelly: I thought you hated Pride and Prejudice.
Joe Fox: Or was she too prejudiced and Mr. Darcy is too proud? I can’t remember.
Joe Fox: It wasn’t personal.
Kathleen Kelly: What is that supposed to mean? I’m so sick of that! All that means is that it wasn’t personal to you. But it was personal to me. It’s personal to a lot of people. What is so wrong with being personal anyway?
Joe Fox: Nothing.
Kathleen Kelly: Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.
Kathleen Kelly: My head is starting to get fuzzy. Why did you stop by again? I forget.
Joe Fox: I wanted to be your friend. I knew it wasn’t possible. Sometimes a guy just wants the impossible.





*/final drag… I think that’s enough for now, Clicky… /stubs butt… You go get a Song and I’ll tie this shambles off…*
*Coming out of what, Clicky? …/lights up rollie and drags…*

*Knot a graphic novel, Clicky… /streams smoke… Short stories, many authors…*


*Five pointed star! I was thinking of The Okie Devil of Textus… /flicks ash… Cade’s got stories in the book. I didn’t even think of that, Clicky… /pats snout… What did I list next?*

*/drags… 19 Four-Tees… /blows smoke ring… Nineteen stories…*
*Three? …/squints… Sew, inadvertently, Leggy and I counted down six, five, four three… /final drag…*

*2, 1… /stubs butt… Hey, how about that ‘wolf trap‘, Clicky?*


*Oh I dunno, Clicky… /lights up… 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0… /grins…*

*/grins… How peculiar, Clicky… /lights up…*
peculiar (adj.)
mid-15c., “belonging exclusively to one person,” from Latin peculiaris “of one’s own (property),” from peculium “private property,” literally “property in cattle” (in ancient times the most important form of property), from pecu “cattle, flock,” related to pecus “cattle” (see pecuniary). Meaning “unusual” is first attested c. 1600 (earlier “distinguished, special,” 1580s; for sense development, compare idiom). Related: Peculiarly.

*’Also KT and KH’…/drags… No shit! …/streams smoke… *





*/flicks ash… Knot a favourite episode, Clicky… /drags… although, excellent use of a jammie dodger… /blows smoke rings… I’d forgotten about that…*



*Like the villain, House, in The Doctor’s Wife, Clicky, Daleks are a bit like a sea anemone… /puffs… “hard on the outside, squishy on the inside”… I hadn’t made that connection before… /taps teeth…*
Karl sat at his kitchen table, smoking and observing the tendrils of early morning mist gently tickle the tops of the garden hedge, before continuing their soft creep to the ground. It was dark outside but the lawn glittered with stars; pregnant dew drops nestling in the grass caught the thin, amber light that spilled from the kitchen window. He stubbed out his cigarette and gulped back the last dregs of cold tea from his mug with a grimace. Not long now, Karl thought, she’ll be home soon. Outside the mist started to swirl and pool.
He stood up and stretched, bones creaking and knees popping as if to salute the end of his vigil. He fleetingly considered that he was getting too old for this malarkey, but she needed a watcher – someone to light the way back. He could bear the discomfort; it was only for the night. Karl rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and dragged his hands down over bristled cheeks to wipe any tiredness away. He contemplated putting the kettle on when he heard the first high pitched bark puncturing the dark. The second got him moving. “Not the foxes again!”
As he opened the back door, the wet slap of morning air to hit Karl’s face was accompanied by a rude crash and skitter of a dustbin lid falling, somewhere in the mist. She’s coming from the right, he thought, opening the door wider to peer out into the murk. More barks, louder this time, and a fiery hiss, were followed by the sound of clambered wood, as the garden fence shook violently. Karl held the door further ajar, and a white streak shot out of the mist and between his legs, into the kitchen.
Karl closed the door on the mist and the foxes who, by the sound of it, were now rummaging through next door’s bin for tasty scraps. He turned to the slight figure, lying on the kitchen floor. “For goodness sake, Lara, do you have to tease the foxes? It upsets the neighbours.”
“It upsets the bins,” Lara replied, lightly panting as she rolled over and attempted to sit up. “No, they were waiting for me. Foxes are not called cunning for nothing, Karl.”
“Yes, but they usually leave you alone when you’re hedge riding.”
Lara sighed. “It would seem witches aren’t held in much esteem these days. Not by people or wildlife.”
Karl surveyed the flush in his wife’s cheeks and her glittering eyes, and thought she still looked pretty formidable considering her advanced years. He also noticed the shudder in her arm propping her up. “You should get off the floor. What would you like, sofa or chair?” he asked, scooping her up, with barely a tremble from his own geriatric limbs.
“Sofa,” Lara replied with a wan smile. “Thank you, dear. And a cuppa and a ciggie wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“Funnily enough, I was just about to put the kettle on,” Karl replied, before lowering his wife, so she could reach out and pluck the cigarette packet and lighter from the kitchen table. A fat bead of blood splashed onto the surface below, quickly followed by another. “You’re injured?”
“Damn foxes.” Lara winced and drew her arm back toward her chest. “One of them managed to get a mouthful of armpit. I don’t think it’s too deep. Just stings a bit.”
“But you’re bleeding,” Karl said gruffly. Too gruffly, he feared, from the look his wife shot him. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I can clean that up,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, before carrying her through to the front room.
Karl noticed that Lara was already on her second cigarette when he returned five minutes later, to set out a bowl of hot water, soap, flannel and towel on the carpet before her. “Kettle’s on for tea,” he said kneeling down. He adjusted his glasses and gingerly started to lift Lara’s elbow. “Can’t let it get infected, how would we explain that to Dr Patel?”
“I can always change back so you can take me to a vet,” Lara replied sharply, pulling away from his grasp.
She must be in great pain, Karl thought. “Come now, dear, we don’t have pet insurance. We don’t own a pet.” Lara’s eyes briefly flashed at his riposte, but her body relaxed and she allowed him to lift her arm. “So apart from getting into a fight with some foxes…”
“Ambushed by some foxes,” Lara quickly corrected him.
“Sorry, ambushed by some foxes on the way home, how was the rest of your night?”
Lara took a deep drag from her cigarette. “Well it started off okay,” she said, billowing a great cloud of smoke. “I went to see Annie and girls down at Saint Michael’s.”
“And how are Annie and the girls?” Karl asked as he cleaned her wound of blood.
“Dead.”
“Naturally.” Any bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the swelling around the punctures had already started to bruise, turning an angry black mauve that only truly flourished on elderly skin. Karl stopped himself flinching at the sight. “You’d think they’d get themselves a spirit cat.”
“They’ve got a spirit cat,” Lara gently rebuked him with a chuckle.
“A ghost cat, then.” Karl smiled at her mirth. “You know what I mean.”
“Oh a ghost cat would be just as stuck as they are. Graveyards are lonely places, Karl. The residents like the company and the gossip. Especially the newly interred. Once the funeral is over, they rarely get more than a yearly visit from any family. If that.” Lara finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray perched on the arm of the sofa. “How’s it looking?”
“Ugly but clean. It’ll need some arnica,” Karl replied, rising carefully to his feet. “That’s in the kitchen. Besides, the kettle must have boiled by now. No, no. You stay there. I’ll go.”
Lara laughed and shooed him away with her good arm before reaching for the cigarettes and lighter.
Karl could hear swearing from outside the back door; Jim must be up and found the aftermath of the fox fracas. Karl popped the kettle on and grabbed the arnica and some aspirin from the medicine cupboard, chuckling at the string of expletives emanating from over the garden fence. He glanced out the window to see that sunrise was already burning off the mist that had been so thick an hour or so ago. It looked like it could be a lovely day.
The sound of the front doorbell caught him off guard. Who would be calling at this hour? Karl wondered and went to open the front door. Through the frosted glass he could make out the shape of a woman in a bright pink dressing gown. What could she want? Karl thought as he unlocked and opened the door. “Morning Celia. Is everything alright?”
“Oh Karl,” his next door neighbour cried, her face puffy and contorted with distress. “Karl, I’m so sorry if I’ve woke you,” Celia started to apologise. “There was some trouble with foxes in our garden last night. I don’t know if you heard any of it.”
“No,” Karl lied. “But I heard Jim swearing earlier. Did they make much of a mess?”
Celia looked distraught at the suggestion. “Well yes, but…” she trailed off with a sob. “Karl, it’s Lara. I’m so sorry. They killed your cat.” Celia had not come empty handed; she held out a bundle, wrapped neatly in a towel, out in front of her.
Karl felt an icy chill bloom from the crown of his head and cascade down his body. “Thank you,” he said numbly, taking the bundle from Celia’s shaking hands.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Celia continued but Karl had already shut the front door. He felt the lightness of the bundle in his arms. It felt so slight.
“Lara?” Karl called as he carried it through to his wife, but the front room was empty. He laid the bundle on the sofa and sat down next to it. A spiral of smoke floated up from the ashtray perched on the arm. Karl turned and picked up the last of the burning cigarette and with trembling fingers, finished his smoke.

*/winks…*