Imminently Tarrying (BBP) Friday, January 03, 2020

There is an endgame.  Not a notion but a Goddamned fuckin fact.

So what one has to asks oneself is : Why ?  Now that's something to noodle fo sho.  I mean we broke muh fuckahs look at this shit so simply: You work, You eat, You drink and You live c'est tout.

I'm sorry you rich sorry ass muh fuckahs, what the fuck am I missin with yo rich lost sorry ass? Avez-vous de l'argent?  Oh, I see!  Money over life!  Cool.  Cooler than cool.  But let me ask yo sad sorry ass just one lil bitty wee question if I may?  Do you really want it to come down to the query of: How much money do you have...to continue to live?  Cause if that's the best yo ass got...yo sorry rich ass is gonnah suffah the utmost horrible death evah!  Let me repeat: evah!  Cause we po' folks out number yo sorry ass, like in South Africa during and afrah Apartheid, Twenty-Thousand to One but we ain't no scared niggahs, fuck naw.  And please forgive an ignant muh fuckah like me, but I just have to understand, do you really think this is going to fair well for your sorry ass?

I mean really?

I'll be waitin patiently for your answer up until hell has to open up on that ass.  For real. 

Peace!  More to come...

You Heard May (BBP) 3:33 pm Friday, August 2, 2019

The plight is the fight.  Not tonight but forever until humankind finds the thin line defining human from inhuman's sins.  People comparing a dog to children or a brethren sends all the kin to suck wind.  Fend off another flu coming to you...soon.  A buffoon of a wake to take the birthday peoples' cake for Heaven's sake.  Intake the manifold to hold the exhaust, the real boss to the floss, going in and out to bring about pieces to the cause of the great decay.  The righteous always has to rinse to stay okay.

Obey our Father's instructions and stay in the present.

Repent and consent to the natural pure innocence of US.  Stop the fuss. No need to cuss. We must...

continue to live being cool; you lovely, one of a kind and perfectly created beautiful fool...

(...more to come)

Nonsense (BBP)

The old saying goes in a negative connotation, "The blind leading the blind."  In hindsight that makes no fucking sense to me.

But the seeing leading the seeing...now that's what I'm talkin bout!  Why in the fuck if I see just as well as a muh fuckah do I need that muh fuckah tah lead my Black broke ass any-fuckin-where?  Very apropos and negative as hell.  Yah heard may?

Peace!  More to come...

An Online Shopping Company By Any Other Name Is Still A Sears And Roebuck (BBP) August 3, 2018

Muh fuckah!  Muh fuckah!  "There is nothing new under the sun."  And again, I didn't coin that shit.  Fuck naw!  The fuckin preacher, my man, Ecclesiastes talked that shit so long ago biblically.  But what I say, goddamnit, is :  Yo ass can tell the fuckin future while in the past!  Right the fuck now!  Yah heard my sorry Black ass!

The fuck niggah?  The fuck back niggah!  Shit times ten!

Let me give yo lil sorry ass a lil anecdote tah noodle.  Richard Warren Sears and Alvah Curtis Roebuck, better known as, Sears and Roebuck.  I'm sure yo ass has heard of the two, or at least what those broke bitches today, who started the company stated previously; now, just Sears goddamnit and fuck the Roebuck!  But anyway...

They started out as a mail-order only company back in 1892.  Then what the fuck their sorry ass do?  Well you guessed it!  They fucked up!  They went and built a brick-and-mortar the year of our lord in 1925.  They didn't foresee it then...but that decision began the demise of the company which they created.  Oh, don't get it twisted.  Up until October 1989 they were the largest retailer in this here United States.  In that same year Walmart put a boot in that ass and became king of the retail realm.  And Sears been losing ground faster than a leadin marathoner whose plantar fasciitis decided to say, "how yo tired ass doin motha fucka," at the eighteenth mile.

Now yo ass may be confused and start sayin, "The fuck!?  What?  Where yo Black sorry ass goin with this cause you done lost a muh fucka fo sho!"  Duly noted!  Out-fucking-standing in fact!  Just goes tah sho a sorry muh fuckah like me yo sorry ass payin hella attention.  Big ups muh fuckah, fo real!

So lets get down to "The Rub."  Drum roll please muh fuckah...Thank you. 1989 when Sears started taking that ass kicking on up to this very day, just five years later, a little known on-line shopping company was formed at the time founded by none other than Jeff Bezos known as Amazon.  Don't chew see it my Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs.  This mothah fuckah, Bezos, is nothing but a plagiarist if he were a writer.  A copycat if he were a serial killer.  But in the world of corporate america he is deemed a "Maverick," a "Genius," a "Visionary,"...and all he did was foretold the future while researching the past failings of Sears...The fuck times fifty!

Niggah whah?
 
You definitely heard my Black sorry ass!  Peace!  More to come...

Transitional Tranning Program (William B. Still, Historian) 2021

Since 1919 students had been graduating from the Transitional Tranning School located in Sundale, California.  The school has never been a school widely notarized.  Oh, no.  The school had always been a clandestine institution known only to and by the elite.  The elites offspring comprising some 97% of the schools enrollment and the GMOs (Genetically Modified Organisms) making up the last 3%.

Hollywood is and was the place for this evil ruse.  What good is a screenplay without a good ending?  This finale was going to set an all time record of opening and closing weekends revenue...ever.  The story-line had not ever been solicited nor written.

Men being hormonally transitioned into regular women, women actresses, women politicians, women CEOs...  Women being hormonally transitioned into placid men politicians, men Marine soldiers, men actors...

The fact was and had always been, stranger than fiction.   And this is where our larger than life story starts...

(...to be continued.)

Special Recipes (Broke Black Prophet and DD) Friday, July 20, 2018

"...You know I'm fifty-two years old and the bullshit that went on when I was young still affects me to this very day," I said.

"For sure!  There's more than just flour and chocolate chips that make up your individual cookie. And some ingredients should have been thrown out a long time ago.  Bad as hell.  You know what I'm sayin?"  Debbie said while her big blue eyes empathized with me.

What A Shitter! (I. Sawrai, Assistant Planner of The Masonic Order) March 3, 2019

They had been crosshatching the skies for two decades now.  No entity or person said a thing about it.  "Conspiracy Theorists," would be the nasty label put on anyone that wrote or talked about the chemical trails (Chemtrails) lacing the heavens.

And conspiracy was exactly what the New World Order was implementing.  All the media propagandized, bought and sold by the same Luciferian Masonic Illuminists' agenda. They, the Luciferians, wanted to exterminate any anti-illuminists, which was ninety-eight percent of the population.  But the hiccup to the plan was that the survivors needed slaves because they did not want or were too entitled to work.

And this soul quandary had the "Planners" flummoxed. 

Indefensible (BBP) December 21, 2018

Religion is the last bastion to life of humankind.  Confined to the wake of hedonism; a schism of dark mattered time in the sublime. Circumcision never a permission to listen and to go back to the evil days which are on display today; a lesion that has formed over the millennia from the perpetual psoriasis of the Earth’s epidermis being adulterated, by the scientific community getting immunity, with a false process we have ignored and been possessed by the numbers generated in the human code to explode the DNA address; a mess has been MANiacally conformed; never to confess our unforgettable sins; as the last fatal winds finally descend.

A Clean Flow

"Shit, I don't know.  Maybe three days, " I said to Marcus, my best friend and roommate.

"That's not good bro'.  Not good at all.  You're two times fucked bro'!  As in Peace,"  Marcus said and held up two fingers for a peace sign at me, trying to lighten the conversation up just a tad.

"Well, fuck man.  The fuck I'm s'posed tah know, when the fuckers gonna do a drop?"   I said.

"Yeah, I hear yah bro.  But I'm just fuckin whit cha Cal.  Never fear cause 'Cus is hear!  As long as those mother fuckers don't look right at your dick in your hand while doin your drop, you've got nothin tah worry bout,"  Marcus said with a mischievous smile on his face.  "I'll be right back bro."

Marcus disappeared into the back of our apartment that we had shared for some two years now.  He was what I always wanted in a male roommate, he smoked weed and he kept shit orderly and clean. Plus somehow he always was able to have drop dead lady friends.  He came back with a dark bottle, a dropper, a smaller clear bottle with fluorescent yellow liquid inside and a white box that when he placed on our coffee table it read: "Incognito Belt."

"Shit man I'm really not into any magic tricks right now 'Cus.  For real man.  I need a damn plan man," I said feeling kind of helpless.  If I tested dirty I would loose my job and my half of the bills would now be compromised.

"And a damn plan you will have bro'.  Trust me,"  Marcus smiled raised his eyebrows and started assembling the items he had in his hands on the coffee table situated in between the two of us.  

GEO-ENGINEERING AND OPERATION "SUNSCREEN" 2019

I am a retired Air Force Pilot. I have three beautiful children and a gorgeous wife, all four I love very deeply and would give my life to save. Maybe after I write this, I will not be the same person, hopefully. Maybe, I will save them with the information I am going to share with you today.

I retired December 06, 2005 from the Air Force of the United States where I was a pilot of jets and other aircraft for over twenty-five years. Coincidentally, or maybe not, I was contacted via telephone, December 06, 2009, about coming back to be employed by the DOD (Department of Defense) as a flight engineer. I had my own business, giving flying lessons, with a small aircraft I had acquired with the savings from my former military career and retirement thereof. I was hesitant because I tired of the structure of the military as well as the federal government. And I informed the administrator on the phone of just that. All hesitancy stopped when I heard his words, "It pays one million-five-hundred-thousand per year."

Needless to say, within a month, I sold my aircraft. And moved me and my family near a classified airbase in Northern Utah.

I have been working in that same capacity for almost ten years now. I have a good life. My family is happy and does not want for anything. But...it will not last. I took this position to aid in bettering myself and what I thought my family would want and need, providing. But...I made a terrible mistake. A miscalculation. And, just like in any cockpit, flying multiple Machs (m&Ms), one miscalculation will end your life. I was not careful about the flightless journey that I was about ready to board without checking the destination, the flight log, to Our demise.

My job was to just monitor the flight of a UMAC (UnManned Air Craft). There were many in the sky at one time but a flight engineer is only responsible for one air craft. This is one of the reasons I retired when I did back in 2005, the technology had gotten to the point a person didn't have to be in the air craft to be flown. All done by satellites and computers. A commercial plane really doesn't need a physical pilot. The only reason a physical pilot is used is for the sole purpose of people's conditioning, having a physical pilot, being wigged out because the plane is piloting itself, which it does anyway.

Making as much money as I was going to make, I did not care why the plane was in the air, its purpose for flight, as a matter of fact the generals and administrators were very curt when speaking about the project. Not going over many details, keeping everything clean and glossy. "Just engineer the flight is all you have to do," would be the various superiors' mantra. And I did just that.

A.J.E.W. (Airman James Eric Walker)

Shaking The Cobwebs

I was in water assuredly, just lying there.  I could feel a little ground on my back, I guess that was the only thing keeping me atop water, not drowning.  My eyes closed, I didn't feel like moving.  Then I felt the rain on my face.  I felt as though I wasn't breathing but I'm quite sure I was.  What was I doing here?  Nothing really mattered.  I was tired.  Real tired for some reason.  'Daddy get up,'  my Daughter's voiced coaxed.  What are you doing here, I thought.  I dropped you off with your mother.  'Get up Daddy!'  I opened my eyes to see where she was, all around me darkness and the water dropping on me and surrounding me.  What the hell?  'Please get up Daddy,' her pleading voice.  'Where are you?' I felt my mouth move but no sound came out.  'I'm here,' she assured me.  I opened my eyes again, northing but the same as before.  'Get up, you can do it.'  I tried to move and the pain in my head shot down my right side of my body paralyzing pain.  'I can't, ' I whispered and started to cry as the rain picked up, ears clogged with water.  'You have to get up.  I need you.  You can't stay here and die on me.'  And that was all that I needed to hear.  I seized every ounce of strength in me and with one forceful push and got myself up to at least a sitting position.  But the pain was horrible. 

The Final Human's Perfect Stance! (BBP) January 1, 2018

Bim-Bam-Bam-Pew-Pew-Pew…!  

Oh, yes!  Gonna be free in a little bit.  Get into the set into the sect, circumspect, insect-dissect.  

Bet on another dialect.
Best into the test if you do what you do and inspect.  

Imbue and sue into the brew above the blue.  

Blue raspberry in no hurry.  

Bury another family member to dismember the member.  

A certain truth being imbued into the rude attitude. 

Cut and paste is such a distaste.  

Face the truism without patriotism, a perpetual prism to schism
The brain-cells into the wells of this lost society.  

Oh…Alas…to be bought…a slave to make one free, 

Like I behave into now lost life which one has become the end instead of the begin.  

Makes one wonder what has been the storm that hasn’t really become

What we have thought would be the end of the drought? 

Rain!  

Dance!  

Prance!  

Stain the vain of this existence with your presence, essence…
A bloody last dominance filled menace
By the old school rule Of: To Fight to the death with non-hesitance
For freedom in this
Existence!

A human’s final perfect stance!