*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…*
*Whereas the Trump surrogate’s phone…*
*…Was left lying next to the sync…*
*… And got covered IN dirt…*
*The Remnants from ‘The Ghost Monument’? …/stubs butt… Now you come to mention it, Clicky, they are a bit Archon-like in appearance…*
‘c. 1200, autorite, auctorite “authoritative passage or statement, book or quotation that settles an argument, passage from Scripture,” from Old French autorité, auctorité “authority, prestige, right, permission, dignity, gravity; the Scriptures” (12c.; Modern French autorité), from Latin auctoritatem (nominative auctoritas) “invention, advice, opinion, influence, command,” from auctor “master, leader, author” (see author (n.)). Usually spelled with a -c- in English before 16c., when the letter was dropped in imitation of French, then with a -th-, probably by influence of authentic.
‘From c. 1300 in the general sense “legal validity,” also “authoritative book; authoritative doctrine” (opposed to reason or experience); “author whose statements are regarded as correct.” From mid-14c. as “right to rule or command, power to enforce obedience, power or right to command or act.” In Middle English also “power derived from good reputation; power to convince people, capacity for inspiring trust.” From c. 1400 as “official sanction, authorization.” Meaning “persons in authority” is from 1610s; Authorities “those in charge, those with police powers” is recorded from mid-19c.’
*’rollie stone’… /:D… *
‘ROLLING Stones guitarist Keith Richards proved he’s still got plenty of puff left — after being given permission to smoke on stage.
‘The 74-year-old rocker was seen having a crafty cigarette during the band’s show in London this week — aptly called their No Filter tour.
‘He was cheered by the crowd of 70,000 at The London Stadium in Stratford as he lit up, flouting the strict no smoking rule.’
*/thinks and smokes… 70,000 people applauding the lighting of a cigarette, against the rules? In a stadium, Clicky, some believe hosted a magikal ceremony… /smokes and thinks… I wonder if the magik was intended as a one-off thing, or if the potential lingers longer than anticipated?*
*Butt then aren’t we all born a bit slippy, Clicky? …/blows smoke rings…*
‘But Newham Council said it would not be taking any action because smoking was part of the act. ‘Smoking on stage is permitted “where the artistic integrity of a performance makes it appropriate for a person to smoke”, therefore no action will be taken,’ it added.’
*As You Like it… /final drag… Underworld may have directed the music but Shake Sphere’s Tempest formed the basis of that magikal ceremony in 2012, Clicky… /fills air with smoke… And he’s still going…*
*Smoking is an art, Clicky… /stubs butt… Sonnet 6+6+6… Ya Ken?*
*Really, Clicky? I’d have had money on you going with a Stones Song…*
“a pet or tame animal,” especially a lamb, late 15c., often used in reference to young animals abandoned by their mothers and brought up by hand; of unknown origin. Meaning “spoiled or over-indulged child” is from 1877. Also as a verb, “to rear by hand or tenderly,” and an adjective (late 15c.).
*Aye! …/lights up… There’s a couple of Wiki Wavy Walls in there for you too, Clicky… /drags…*
!!!!! - ! -HBD ROOBEEFUCKINGDOO- ! - !!!!!
OK, so, it’s a day early. Today is Thursday May 51st of 8210, and I started writing this latest piece of shit yesterday. But I’ve almost finished it, gonna send it over to her soon, and she’ll post it whenever she does. Pretty sad that this is the best that I can do with respect to giving her a gift, but, it’s all I have to give. So in order to turn this away from me a bit, let’s get back to Roob, and let’s now celebrate and bask in her sunshine.
*Clicky! …/makes shushing gesture… Pipe down…*
DATELINE: May 25th, 1918. RooBeeDoo was born on the southern slope of Mount Vesuvius in Northern Canuckistan, some time between the hours of 00:00 and 23:59.
Vesuvius isn't located in Canada...
Does Canada even have volcanoes? If not, why not? I wonder if there are any countries that would be willing to loan Canada one of their volcanoes. Anyway, I dunno if she was born on the side of a volcano or not, but I think she’s pretty cool
HBD Young Lady.
I has question or so that needs asking/answering…
I’d go to one of these. Prolly for the socializing more than anything.
But thinking in terms of “the higher self”, can we think about practicality for a second?
If some future me showed up in the now, all-knowing and full of smarts about all kinds of things, and I wanted to observe myself in the now blundering around all lost…
I see no difference. I think that I know it all now, and I’ll think that I know it all then…so doesn’t that create this paradoxical “banging your head against the wall” type situation? Why would I tell myself, not to be myself.
Almost like, the more my future self told me, the more that future self would start to get it wrong. I would assume that my future self would begin to change as I changed, and eventually, neither of us would exist. Like some weird resonance trying to find itself within an otherwise structured chorus. Of course, this assumes some linear structuring within time.
Which...no evidence at ALL for that, eh?
Just thinking that at some point, a future self and past self would be equally lost when encountering each other at a single point in time.
America was once called the land of opportunity. A land flowing with milk and honey, and virtually limitless resources. A place where infinite infinities abound. Many have stood and marveled in awe at this land…
we appear to be having an identity crisis? Too much of what we don’t want, and not enough of what we do want?
Either way, sounds like a lot.
Now…what in the motherfucking fuckberries is THIS shit all about?
Someone must be going to Tennessee or something.
The contents appear to be able to speak for themselves.
The rest is all just fun and games…
until it’s your turn at the gallows.
Anyone know what this section was/is supposed to be about?
Something of substance was supposed to go here, but I cannot recall what it was.
I need a car. Anyone got a spare car they aren't using?
Ever heard of a “fatberg” before?
Welp…now you have.
Tonight, been watching some videos of the more arcane mechanics of The Universe. Namely, drains. Plumbing. Pipes and piping. The things that cause these drains to become clogged/stop working, and the people who show up to get them flowing again.
It's a nasty job.
Completely repulsive in many respects. Pee, poo, food, grease, puke, toilet paper, tampons, roaches, rats, and all kinds of creepy-crawlies that you can see, and many creepy-crawlies that you cannot see.
A: Who the fuck is Sophia?
Sophia is sum gal.
If you cannot understand the love that it takes, to get your entire body completely immersed in human waste(s), all so that someone else can flush their toilets and run their faucets? Yeah…I think your bots are going to have difficulty understanding a lot of things.
Watching all of these plumbing vids, and seeing swirlies of all kinds, got me to thinking about the two things that one must know in order to be a plumber…
Supposedly, that’s all you need to know. I guess the rest, you just have to kinda…
I wonder how many “51” references there are in this particular post?
I think there are references to a certain year too.
Can’t be sure tho.
If you want to see a great example of how legal systems are justified and established?
Look no further.
It was the pic that got me. Mainly because this is the first really inflammatory political cartoon that I’ve seen in a very long time. There is no one that this cartoon does not denigrate. It casts all as “poor”. Poor morals, poor timing, poor judgement, poor rationale, poor planning…it just flat don’t give a fuck.
No fucks given.
Not to mention that everyone depicted is looking in, out, or away in some form or fashion. Lots of veils. So what about the cartoonist? This cartoon smacks of an “editor-in-chief” idea. Something some EIC dreamed up, told the cartoonist what they wanted, and the cartoonist drew it. I could be wrong on that.
What was the business about legal systems being justified/established/created? Welp, calling for the dissolution of an organization, while simultaneously calling for the criminal conviction of it’s members, sounds to me like what Set did to Osiris. Killed him, then convicted his members…sorta. You can draw your own conclusions about that story.
But anyway, yeah, same thing…sorta. Killing and chopping up the established and well-formed. Creating chaos out of order, all to make a point. What’s the point? I dunno. Maybe someone was being ignored. Maybe someone was doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Maybe all that and more.
But thinking more in legalistic terms, a war machine seeks enemies to fight. If you are capable of being or becoming ill/diseased, deformed, bent, broken, or anything similar, then yeah, you are an enemy of The WHO.
Not the band, the group.
Confusing thought to ponder, eh? The difference between a group and a band? I guess that’s the difference between war(s) and battle(s). The difference between battle(s) and combat(s). Just seems to me that the very thing the Tweeter was calling for, was the very thing that can and will legitimize the organization and people they want to see destroyed.
A: Nothing kills it. But it will sometimes sit idle and rusty until someone stumbles across it and gives it a shine.
It’s suspect – the tweet – calling for dissolution and conviction. But only because you are using the very tools that make the war machine go.
The fingers go deep.
You should know that tho.
They are your fingers afterall.
Someone made a tweet recently. I’m paraphrasing the contents, but it was basically…
“I am a complete person, and I don’t need anyone else to make me whole”
…or something like that. I could prolly find the tweet if I wanted, but to what end?
Of course you are complete. There’s nothing wrong with you, and even if there was something wrong with you, it’s prolly nothing that can’t be solved with a topical ointment or some tweezers. Like say…that one weird eyebrow hair that is growing all screwy above your left eye. I can’t stop staring at it.
OH HEY!!! I attended my first ever Live Stream a coupla nights ago!!!
Some fuck on Twitter tweeted that there was a live stream going on, so, I went. I sat for about an hour, doing something I had never done before, with a bunch of people that I didn’t know, and watching them play a video game that I’d never even heard of. I even hopped on their Discord channel and chatted with them a bit. Being on Discord kinda fucked up the audio of the live stream video, so it took me a second to realize I needed to mute the audio on the video stream, but I figured it out eventually.
Just looked up the channel, and there’s a vid of the stream. It looks like they’d already been streaming for about 23 minutes when I got there, and I doubt you want to watch 3 hours and 23 minutes of a pack of nerds playing a video game, but…here it is if you do.
What does it take to create a new category? Does it depend on what we are talking about? Do I even need to know what I am talking about? Or do I only need to know what you are talking about. I’m just sitting here wondering who these people are. Yeah…THOSE people. Who are they? What are they doing in that job? How’d they get it? Who hired them? Who hired them that hired them? How do we uproot these worthless, self-serving, fuckfaces?
They seem to be hiring.
Knock yourself out.
What do you do with all these people once you’ve gotten them fired, convicted, or whatever? Public housing? Public employment? Public assistance(s) of all kinds? If that and those are the case(s), wouldn’t it have been better to just have left them where they were?
==================================================1 j/k 1==================================================
Happy Birthday Roob.
*/grins… You enjoyed that, Clicky, didn’t you? …/pats snout…*
*/Dons PPE… Ready then, Clicky, play the vid…*
*/blows smoke ring… Yeah, he teally is a sweetie, Clicky… *
*Yikes! …/flicks ash…*
‘In other words, what’s happened over the last eight days was just “cleaning out the pipes” so to speak.’
*Indeed, Clicky! …/pats snout…*
*It’s been an Utter joy, Clicky, bouncing around time and space with Cade… /lights up… Seeing things anew…*
*/coughs… I ain’t shown him that one yet! …/taps ash… Mind you… /smokes… touch and hearing in one clip, Clicky? Fucking clever!*
Where have I been?
Where have YOU been is likely a more appropriate question.
I've been taking a break.
Getting my bikini figure into shape for Bikini Season.
Let’s remedy that.
Let’s come me come clean. I’ve been avoiding anything and everything on the web, except Twitter, and I’ve been doing that for the last few months. I don’t care what it is, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want to hear it. Those “pokes from else and/or elsewhere” have gotten too numerous. My feet, legs and hips are cramping almost non-stop, and it fucking hurts.
I keep thinking about some 16 year old girl shooting herself. Can’t get it out of my fucking head. That, and this goddamn anti-smoking bullshit. Oh, and I’m trying to write. So there’s that. I also keep swirling around swirls. That has led me to some interesting thoughts on “flat space(s)”, so I’m gonna ramble about some of that…
assuming it's A-O-fucking-K with you.
So what’s up with you where you are? It’s snowing outside here. Gonna put my cold weather gear on in a bit, go outside, and make a video. I doubt very seriously that most fucks are going to believe that it’s snowing in North Texas in late April, but it is. Once I make the video, we’ll have proof, the case will be solved forever, and there will be no reason to argue about the truth of spring snow(s) in Texas. I’ll keep you posted on where you can view the video.
Why in the fuck would anyone care if North Korea/South Korea reunified? You running low on shit to talk about? Running low on shit to worry about? East Germany and West Germany got back together.
Maybe if you fucks would stop thinking in terms of big and small, you could actually focus. Or at least, make some discernment(s) as to what focus is.
Which reminds me, I got to thinking about the nature of focus with respect to membranes, and it got me to thinking about what is required to stretch a something so thin, that it results in the reduction of mass in certain sectors of the stretched membrane in such a way as to detract/reduce scale. Meaning, the reduction in mass does not cause a fundamental change in anything except scale.
Basically, a chain of say…Oxygen atoms…have become so stretched, all while retaining their relational bonds, that some atoms begin to shrink in scale. Methinks we are stumbling into/onto some gravity/anti-gravity kinds of things here.
Thinking more in terms of contextual processes that are created for the purpose(s) of creating something that does not currently exist, there are certain things that we can accept as being, for the most part…normal. Like say, the creation of a house using wood, that starts with the chopping down of a tree, and is followed by the chopping down of more trees.
Pretty normal sounding right?
Welp, what about slamming sub-atom particles together at near the speed of light using the machines that we build in order to achieve this? Is that normal? Or can we consider it “normal” to qualify these activities as…abnormal.
Do we have processes in place to adequately deal with the ongoing sawdust issue(s)? Have we taken steps? Addressed concerns? Is the matter settled?
Let’s get more focused
We on the same page?
I wonder how many membranes are breached in order to perform an “average” surgery.
So can we assume that there is a difference between a perforation and a cut/incision? What about a stretch or strain? Wouldn’t an incision by a laser be both a perforation and a cut? No to mention the burn(ing).
It’s just passed noon on Saturday April 28, and I’ve not been sleeping well. I’ve been dreaming non-stop for months now, but I guess its the season change that is currently fucking me up. I went on a 5 day drinking bender last week, and it did me some good. But still not sleeping very well. Guess I’m sweating heading to Austin a bit. Leaving for Austin soon, and looking forward to it, but also kinda nervous. The dynamics of the trip have suddenly changed. I’ll survive it tho. May even have some fun.
On the up side, I’ve got the fever to write.
On the down side, I’m gonna be without my computer for a while.
I guess it's time to break out the pen and paper.
OH! I’ve got three stories in the new Underdog Anthology which was published this last week.
I guess I need to write a post on it on my own goddamn blog.
Got to thinking about the referential dynamics of gene sequences the other day, and the numbers went from “ridiculous” to “incomprehensible” almost immediately.
Picture This: two identical strands of DNA. One of these strands is located in the heart, and the other is flowing within the bloodstream. Now, imagine these two strands in relation to one another. Now think about the sequence in each strand. Do the sequences remain constant? What about in relation to each other?
I mean, we are talking more about cryptography/cryptology than we are about relationships or gene sequences/gene sequencing, so what about discretion, distinction and/or discrimination? Is there potentially some magic in the spacial relationships and orientations of identical things? What about like things? Similar not same kinds of things?
So yeah, if you get two identical things together, what are they now?
Spooky action at a distance?
Or does the action always and forever need to follow a predefined path?
Was talking to a certain someone this week about “GUT”, and espoused that this particular pursuit is going to have to include multiple elements, and that the omission of a simultaneous “constructive/destructive” is likely why these efforts to construct a unification continues to fail and/or be elusive.
Whatever this “GUT” winds up being will have to have contextual nature, and I added Earth/Terra and Sun/Sol distinctions.
EX: The GUT on Earth/Terra will not be applicable on Mars, and the GUT on The Sun/Sol will differ from the GUT on Earth/Terra. We are in motion, and the only constant state appears to be that of “change” and/or “changing”, depending on where you are and when.
So yeah, there is likely a metric shitload of fucktons of galactic considerations that also need to be made. Maybe The Zodiac ain’t such a stretch afterall, eh? I mean, if these distant gamma ray bursts are suddenly of global concern because we can now see/detect them, that means that they’ve always been a concern. So I got a question for you…
Maybe if you fucks weren’t so goddamn wrapped up in the fatalistic ends of the more modern interpretations Darwinian theory/theories, you wouldn’t be so fucking anxious to win your very own Darwin Award, and take the rest of us with you in the process.
Yes, I am suggesting that certain sectors of science seem to be pretty goddamn fatalistic. I mean fuck, we can get that fatalism bullshit from religion. We don’t need it from you too.
My brain hurts.
Imma go get something to eat, then video the snow for anyone who wants to see it.
*Yeah, I’m hungry too, Clicky… /stubs butt… Let’s get sumfin to eat…*
*Ugh, ghastly biscuits, Clicky… /sticks out tongue in disgust… The smell was bad enough, passing the the Peeky Freaky factory twice a day… /flicks lighter… Snot my taste. Not like the custard cream days… /lights up… I dawdled passed the factory on those days…*
*Knot anymore he ain’t, Clicky… /snickers…*
*Martha was the night before, Clicky… /drags… And Rose and Captain Jack at the weekend… /streams smoke…*
*No River Song is tonight, Clicky… /puffs contentedly…*
“If you ever see a little blue box, flying up in the sky, you shout for me Gramps.”
“You’ll never guess what happened at lunch today,” I told Thoughtful Man, shrugging off my coat, after he’d brought me home from work. He’s thoughtful like that. “I gave my cigarette to a tramp.”
Thoughtful Man squinted hard, the way he does when I mention I’ve given something away. Or interacted with tramps. I have form…
*That’s another story, Clicky… /final drag… Now don’t interrupt… /stubs butt… I’m tryin’ to fiction-all-lies an actual factual happening… /blows smoke rings…*
“Why?” he asked bluntly.
“Because she asked me for it,” I said innocently, slipping out of my work shoes and rolling down my tights. The first thing I do when I get home is strip off my work clothes. The change from formal to informal is one of the little pleasures I take from my day.
Thoughtful Man’s squint soften slightly. “She?”
“Yes. I saw her in the lobby of Tower as I was going out to smoke. Didn’t think anything of it ‘cos we get all sorts coming in everyday,” I said, pulled my dress up over my head. “Anyway, I went and sat in my usual place on the window ledge, round the side of the building. It’s less windy.”
Thoughtful Man was silent but I just knew what he was thinking…
*I’ll get there, if you stop interrupting me! …/huffs…*
I pulled on some jogging bottoms and Thoughtful Man’s old, raggedy sweatshirt. “And I’d nearly finished smoking my cigarette, when the lady tramp ambles round the corner. She was holding up a bottle of perfume.”
“Perfume?” Thoughtful Man interrupted me. “Like she was going to mace you?”
“Yeah. Do you know her?”
Thoughtful Man sighed; he encounters all sorts every day too driving his taxi round the mean streets of our town. “She’s completely fucking mad. I saw her today as well, when I was standing on the rank.”
I plonked myself in my Library chair and lit up a cigarette. “She didn’t spray me or anything. She asked me for a cigarette. I only had the one and I’d nearly finished smoking it. I said ‘Sorry’ and showed her the empty Mayfair box.”
“What did she say?”
I grabbed our small dog, who’d been buzzing round my feet, trying to lick my ankles. “She asked me for the one I was smoking. So I gave it to her.” I ruffed Poppy’s floppy ears and she gave me a smelly, wet, licky kiss in return. “And then she asked me for the empty packet.”
Thoughtful Man stiffened. “Did you give it to her?”
“Well yeah. I’ve got other empty boxes saved.” Oh how I hate the god-awful plain packaging government has foisted on us.
Poppy jumped off my lap and trotted over to Thoughtful Man, who picked her up for a tummy tickle. “I must have seen her after you did because, when she walked past me, she threw an empty Mayfair box at my feet.”
“Really?” I asked with a squint. I didn’t know whether to be amazed at her aim or annoyed that she’d dumped my little, blue box. “Did you pick it up?”
“No.” Thoughtful Man looked aghast. “She’d screwed it up.”
*Shit! …/clocks time… I’ve got a double-bill planned for Cade tonight. We’d better finish up, Clicky… /pats snout… Still, no work tomorrow, eh? Come on flexible time!*
*Ah cool image, Clicky… /pat snout… Actually my hair hasn’t looked like that once this week… /lights up…*
*I am pretty happy with the result, Clicky…/puffs…*
*I’ve still got time to mutilate a poem for the Afterword before I go back to work, Clicky… /drags… If I can find the right one… /billows smoke…*
*They’re fucking unbelievable! …/flicks ash… First you can’t smoke inside, and now the utopian dreamers are trying to dictate where and how you can smoke outside… /deep drag… Nasty Not-sees indeed… /sighs…*
‘Just a few yards away was another really weird sign. I think it was some sort of aphorism. But I couldn’t make out what it said, because it seemed to be written in bleeding, dripping letters that said something like Afraid And Dead. I guess that if you were crossing 2nd Avenue and you stopped to try to figure out what the scary sign meant, you’d find out when you got hit by a truck.’
*Much better but it still looks like worshipers or sumfin’ to me, Clicky… /drags deeply… In sinister black… /snorts smoke…*
*Those are hands!*
*/reads slowly… School For Deaf …/squints… Dept of Transport… /final drag… Oh! The yellow buses! It’s a bus stop sign, Clicky! … /streams smoke…*
*Alright, don’t take the piss… /stubs butt… Well done you, though, on working it out… There’s a good assistant… /pats snout…*
‘MYSTERY SOLVED! NEXT!’
*Okay then…/lights up… And as you’re such a clever Clicky, you can choose…*
*Wha? Whaddaya mean I fucked that up? Who the fuck are you, and what in the fuck do you know about what is or is not, fucked up? /me snorts*
*Ya know, at a cursory glance, she appears to be both bipedal and reasonably agile/mobile. Why exactly she’s crawling around on all fours is…mysterious…*
*I dunno, Clicky… /flicks lighter… I had started writing a post on the John Lamb Lash video talks… /shakes lighter… New format… /flicks lighter… He’s got a Limey companion now, called Ginny… /shakes lighter again… I’m enjoying the Anglo-Yank combo… /flicks lighter… Reminds of a sumfin’… /gives up and rummages through handbag…*
Not sure what Part 3, Cade thinks we need, Dear Reader…
* /rolls eyes… Oh okay, Clicky… /finds working light… *
“expounder of sacred mysteries,” 1670s, from Late Latin hierophantes, from Greek hierophantes“one who teaches the rites of sacrifice and worship,” literally “one who shows sacred things,” from hieros “sacred,” from PIE root *eis-, forming words denoting passion (see ire) + phainein“to reveal, bring to light” (from PIE root *bha- (1) “to shine”). In modern use, “expounder of esoteric doctrines,” from 1822.
‘“I believe the elephant may have been trying to ingest wood charcoal,” said Dr Varun Goswami, WCS India scientist and elephant biologist.
‘The charred lumps of wood can also serve as a laxative to the pachyderms who are able to consume it in the wild after forest fires and lightning strikes.’
*/grins… And Shiny posted it in the Red ‘Excretion’ universe of MRS REGN? Priceless… /puffs merrily…*
“divination by smoke,” c. 1600, with -mancy“divination by means of” + Latinized form of Greek kapnos “smoke,” which is of uncertain origin, perhaps a non-Indo-European substrate word that also produced Lithuanian kvapas “breath, smell,”kvepiu, kvėpti “to gasp, breathe,” Latvian kvept“to smoke, smell,” and perhaps Latin vapor.
That’s as far as I got, Dear Reader. It is a “very great fact”, as John Lamb Lash might say, that elephants never forget…
Reich-ous Hitler lost his War, Dear Reader. So if Lashy is correct in his telling of the Sophia Correction narrative, it rather begs the question:
A: Could it be?
Nah! It’s not like tobacco is associated with a goddess or sumfin’…
‘And at the spot where they had burned First Mother’s bones, there grew another plant, broad-leafed and fragrant. It was First Mother’s breath, and they heard her spirit talking: “Burn this up and smoke it. It is sacred. It will clear your minds, help your prayers, and gladden your hearts.”
‘And First Mother’s husband called the first plant Skarmunal, corn, and the second plant utarmur-wayeh, tobacco.
‘“Remember,” he told the people, “and take good care of First Mother’s flesh, because it is her goodness become substance. Take good of her breath, because it is her love turned into smoke. Remember her and think of her whenever you eat, whenever you smoke this sacred plant, because she has given her life so that you might live. Yet she is not dead, she lives: in undying love she renews herself again and again.”’
Two things happened this week. One with little mainstream media coverage…
… And one saturated…
That’s quite enough for now, Dear Reader. Locking up the LoL for tonight before we get arrested… Have a Song 😉
That’s all there is for now, and there ain’t no fucking more.
It’s time for you and all your parts, to hit the fucking door.
Get your seated ass de-planted, and get your knees unbent.
Put some swagger in those hips, just in time for end of Lent.
The eggzit is where you’re headed, head there now and soon.
Or else I’ll chase you out with my….say, where’d I put my broom?
Seriously…I’m not fucking around…get gone.
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An on and off the wall examination of all things Doctor Who
weaving the threads of play, intuition & synchronicity with truth-seeking & research
I AM the SynchroMiss planted on Earth, here to share my downloads, intel, and code-cracking, integrating the art of synchronicity as we transition to a higher state of consciousness and awareness.
Banging on about the Smoking Ban
A drink, a smoke and a heavy hat.
Exploring the Global Digital Unconscious
A Cognitive Dissident
365 Days of Living the Dale Carnegie Principles