Aussi (Fifty-One Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) May, 2017

“What’s wrong?”  My wife asked.

“Uh, Dr. Jennings is thinking about closing up shop and I have to be proactive and start looking for another career path,” I said.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.  You’re good with people. What do you want to do?”  She said.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t really know.  Shit, I’m fifty-one years old and what company is going to put their given stock into a fifty-one years old ex-optician, office manager and Butler University graduate?”  I asked.

“You’ll be surprised,” my wife said offhandedly.

“Well surprise me because I don’t see it happening,” I said.

“Just start applying for the positions that you would like to partake in and you’ll see,” she said.

“The fuck that mean,” I said.

“The fuck the way it supposed to mean,” she said and I understood perfectly.

“Okay,” I said.

“Oh-Oh!”  She exclaimed.

“Oh, shit!  That ain’t a good oh-oh!” I said.

“No, everything is fine except…” she said leaving me hanging.

“Except what?” I asked.

“You’re going to have to lose the Blog.  Everything has changed in the workforce.  The various human resources at these companies, go online and delve into the internet wake of potential employees; I'm sorry to inform you,” she said.

“Oh, shit!” I said painfully.

“Ditto!” She said painfully aussi.

What's Up With This Shit? (BBP) August 2018

There’s something missing in my soul.  I don’t know what, but it’s critical.  I know something is amiss, but what?  It’s like eating chili but there is no taste of chili, shit there’s no taste at all.  All I’m doing is just eating but I can see that it is chili: what looks like ground beef, onions, light chocolate color of the mixture, tomatoes diced here and there, red beans, epazote, cilantro, cumin…I know it’s chili because I made the shit…but no fuckin taste.  The fuck that about?

 

Like now.  I know I’m living because shit, I woke up and started this muh fuckah today.  But…somethings the fuck off!  And every day that I wake some shit is slipping in this life; slipping in my life.

Quite askew.  But what?  

American Signage to the Federal Government: NO! MEANS NO! YOU HAVE TO PAY TO FUCK US...NOW! (Fifty-One Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) Today

We pay to get fucked!  Whah?  You heard my fuckin Black muh fuckin ass!  But just in case, We pay to get fucked!  And not just a little fucked either.  Oh no!  We pay to get fucked hard, raw and nasty!  Cum and booty juice all on our sorry ass faces.  Some vomitus substance near our feet…and then we got the nerves to ask, ‘What the fuck just happened?’  The fuck niggah!  You just got fucked nasty and sloppy as fuck and yo sorry ass paid for that shit!  Um!  Shame befo God! 

And the sad thang bout this shit is: we keep takin those goddamned wallets and pocketbooks out to pay for the shit…a-the-fuck-gain and a-the-fuck-gain! Taxing the dog shit out of US so we can pay for their pleasures,vices and fuck-ups!  The fuck wrong with US? 

Cause why?  I’ll tell you since yo no count havin ass has the nerves to asks such a silly, dumbass question; because for some reason we think that one of these times they are gonna fuck us good and nice!  Hah!  We some dumb shits!  No fuckin such thing! Fuckin nice, is an oxy-fuckin-moron!  And heavy on that moron part!

Cash for clunkers my ass!  Bailed the auto industry out big time on the American public’s, US, dime.  And then the banks have the nerves to not want to lend money to people because of defaulting on car loans, which the federal government made possible because an average American can’t afford the price tag of a new car or a used fuckin car because the clunkers are all fuckin gone! Sonsabitches.

Y’all remember when cable television came out?  Said that the programming would be limited to little or no commercials because of subscribers paying for the service!  One-hundred and sixty dollars a month later, muh fuckahs got commercials ad-nauseam.  And we keep auto-paying with those credit cards on file!  Ain’t said shit!  Just bending over and takin it deep without even thinkin bout usin lube on yo beat-up, bout ready tah be protracted prolapsed anal violated ass!  The fuck wrong with US!

Then they tell US, ‘You can’t file bankruptcy on your student loans!’  But we can dismiss a company’s debt worth billions of dollars because they employ too many people!  Or, we can bail out companies close to a trillion dollars because the companies are too big to fail, but you cannot be forgiven for that one hundred thousand student loan debt you are enslaved with!  And we’re not even sorry for that shit!  By the way…could you bend over please, we need to get our dicks wet and our freak on…

It’s time My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs to make them understand, “No means no!  You sick nasty mother fuckers!  My ass can't takes it no fuckin mo!” 

On the real!  More to come…

Not A Spectators' Game (Fifty-One Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) July 4, 2017

So, my wife asked me, “Why haven’t you been writing?” 

“I thought about that just yesterday as a matter of fact,” I said.

“What did you come up with?” She asked

“I’m still thinking about that query,” I said.

“Well, I like to read. Just telling you,” she said.

…And I guess the answer to the question is, “What the fuck can I write, say, declare…that would make any fuckin difference in this fucked up world today?” 

I mean shit!  You go to sleep one day; wake up; and a whole nother fucked up anecdote to add to all the other ill anecdotes that have been accumulating at an absurd maniacal speed.

 

Confused?  Shit doesn’t even come close!  The fuck goin on with this existence, with US?  It’s like I am witnessing a slow motion head-on, dead-on carnage filled collision that will be like no other ever witnessed!  I want to stop it…but how can I with my grain of sand ass?

 

Like everybody, lookin at those goddamned stupid ass cell phones that they cannot take their eyes off of those silly screens all the goddamned fuckin time, I too have become a spectator to this life without knowing how to enter the damn human game to make a fuckin difference!  But I must get out of the bleachers and enter this game of life before it's over!

Cause this fifty-one to nil shit just ain’t gonnah work!  Yah heard may?  On the real, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs!

More to come...

Just Fucking Fetid (Anonymous) 2018

Vinyl sided stack and packs;

No more lumberjacks.

Intra-communication;

No more intercommunication.

Texting alone;

No more talking on the telephone.

A Global Community;

No more Family unity.

Children being raped and pillaged;

No more “It takes a village”...

Humanity needing triage;

No more patchouli sillage.

Operation Genesis DJT 4-10-20 MKU14061959 (Thirteen Years Old, Donald John Trump, MKU Splitter) June 14, 1959

“I’m not going!”  Donald said.

“You think this is all about you?  This is about this family and our future!”  Fred said.

“Donald please say ‘Yes’!  Do you not understand what they have promised for this family because of your gifts?”  Mary said.

“I don’t care.  I’m not going Mom…Dad.”  Donald said without much emotion.

“It’s only an hour or so away.  You won’t be too far from us or your brothers and sisters.” Fred said.

“I’m not going!  I don’t care what you might say,” Donald said.

“They told us that not only will everyone be taken care of but Donald, your son, will one day be President.”  Mary said.

“President?  They said that?  President?”  Donald asked.

“Yes!” Fred and Mary said in unison.

“Okay then!  I’ll attend their military school under those conditions!”  Donald said.

“Good!  That’s settled!  Let’s break the news to your Uncle John at MIT!  He’s going to love to hear this news!”  Fred said.

Look What You DID! (Thirty-Three Years Old, Jacqueline Maycock, Fourth Generation MK Ultra Splitter) March 3, 2019

I was born into a shitty life.  My parents said that I was gifted, blessed, the sorry fuckers.  Blessed because I came from three generations of Splitters.  Well, I don't know about all of that, but all I can tell you is that starting at 27 years old things, nightmarish things, were overwhelming me.

I was being awakened from the trauma based mind control that I had been under all of my horrible existence.  Piece by piece, segment by segment coming to the fore of my mind.  And the powers that be were in trouble.  There are some things better off in a deep slumber than being awakened to the ultimate truth...and I wasn't even beginning to shake off the deep slumber I had been in.  But the pain was excruciatingly real.

It's been six years since I have contacted various authorities about my "perceived" reality.  Six years and the same sorry ass statement has been said to me and my various attorneys over and over, "Nothing can be done due to National Security."

Fucking fine!  Every fuckin body is fired, relieved of their fuckin so-called duties!  There is no justice save for the one I have in my heart which I am sure God put.  No more pain!  Just retribution and absolution for me and the rest.  God's will be done.

And the people in my relative pain are about to be visited with the utmost, "How you doing motha fuckahs?!" greeting that they will not soon forget...

(...to be continued)

Just Not My Type Of Nigga (Forty-Two Years Old, Malcolm McQueen) 2018

I’m tired of niggers that wear pagan tattoos.  

I’m tired of niggers that wear those fucked up braids.  

I’m tired of niggers who wear their pants half way down their asses.  

I’m tired of niggers who walk fucked up because they are trying to keep their pants up because of their given pants being voluntarily worn halfway down their asses.
I'm tired of drug dealing niggers.  

I’m tired of niggers complaining about being arrested for breaking the law.
I'm tired of ignorant entitled niggers. 

I’m tired of my people not understanding that we are truly free…

I’m just tired of most of my fellow niggers.

Nothing Left To Do But To Start Killing...(Thirty-Six Years Old, Homicide Detective Michael Delpher, Special Classified Unit, IMPD) Tuesday, February 14, 2017

He didn’t know how he had gotten into his current profession that he was ensconced in now.  Well, he guessed that he did, but more than anything else he wondered, ‘Why?’.  But again, he knew the answer to that query.  He had been knowing the answer to that enigmatic question ever since that fated first day in the unit at precisely 3:33 pm, Sunday, February 14, 1999, the day he had lost all of his lunch,  he had lost all of his religion and, most importantly, he had lost all of his mental virginity…

No Need To Worry. I Am The Truth...(Deuce) August 25, 2018

There will be those who speak ill of the Creator;

Thy know what the truth must be.

There will be those who scoff at the name of our Creator;

Thy know what the truth must be.

There will be those who rely on folly and sin; 

Thy know what the truth must be.

There will be those who laugh when there should be much sadness; 

Thy know what the truth must be.

There will be those who avow that thy children are filled with madness; 

Thy knows what the truth must be…

As I promised,

I will come and save you soon.

"Oft Times I Can't Stand My Own Black People!" BBP 2017

Niggahs are fuckin pitiful! Whah?  Yea, I know I’m a niggah too!  The fuck you talkin too? I the fuck knows who I be, mothah fuckah!  Best believe that shit! Will it make yo sorry ass more comfortable by saying, we niggahs or US?  Fine mothah fuckah!  Fuckin fine! 

Can I continue with your no count havin ass?  Thank you!  Good goddamn!  Some muh fuckahs, I tell you the truth!  Anyway, US niggahs! Satisfied mothah fuckah?  Good!  Excellent in fact! 

We broke ass niggahs get on my mothah fuckin nerves! Owwww!  Actin all pitiful and shit!  Y’all do know that slavery went away some forty years ago and some shit!  You do know that right?  You do?

Well what about racism? That shit is two whole different mothah fuckin things goddamnit!  Ain’t nothin stopping yo Broke Black Ass from reachin yo fuckin potential!  Absolutely, positively…nothin!  Mothah fuckahs that are free don’t do unlawful things!  What do I mean?   Shit, I mean, that to do unlawful things one has to break the law, and in order to break the law, one has to be a citizen not a fuckin nigger slave.  A slave doesn’t have rights; therefore,  a nigger cannot break the law because of their lack of citizenry.  So, in order for one to break the law one is working in adverse to the confines of the law which they belong, which yo Big Black ass surely now workin within or without of, or you could not break said laws.

 

So quit with the mothah fuckin blame game mothah fuckin black ass niggahs!  Well, you’s a light skinned niggah that’s why you’s talkin the shit that you talkin!  No, midnight, I’m talkin this shit because no mattah the color yo light or dark skinned ass is just known as bein a niggah to a white mothah fuckah with yo black greasy head ass self!  Don’t you understand!  Will you ever?  Of course not! 

That’s why our sorry asses had the most viable property, the inner city of any major city, and callin foul by the white city government and state government taking it away from our tired black asses because yo sorry ass didn’t know what cho ass possessed and how, with yo nigger ass, to keep the property up...  But, somehow, with yo free adult Black sorry ass, the white mans still takin advantage of our sorry "enslaved" free niggah asses!..

The Fuck times ten!  

Oneness (Fourteen Years Old, Chloe Elaine Hopson) July 6, 2020

Discoursing about what is the truth is not the truth, it is not the topic of note. The truth is the truth; no matter the political affiliation.  So why do we have political parties if they are really working for the 'greater good'?  Why indeed!  Because the truth will prevail.  Always.  But we have forgotten that little truism that has stood the test of time.  But it is high time to remember it again.

Nothing can outlast the truth!  Nothing!  The truth is timeless, everlasting!  Tried and proven!  C'est tout!

Just pray!  And Our God will reveal the truth unto you; whatever life's human travail leads Us to "...let no man put asunder."

Business Is Still Fucking Business (Deuce) 2018

“The deed is done,” I said.

“Now that’s a statement that needs to be celebrated.  What will you have?  What will you have?...” Lyor Cohen asked me snapping his fingers after each rhetorical question he had posed.

“I don’t drink,” I said simply, with nothing to read in my voice or my face.

“You don’t drink?  Is that a fucking joke or some shit?  Everybody, fucking drinks. ” Lyor said to me.

I didn’t respond.  That’s how I am; a man of very few words. He should have known from my references or maybe they didn’t know either.  Or maybe he was such a dick they didn’t inform him of one of my little idiosyncratic ways that I possess.   

And based on the short time I had spent with him I could see why, anyone with any sentient behavior would recognize this guy was a straight dick.

 

But I’s don’t really give a fuck.  Where is my fuckin money Jew Boy!?  But I didn’t say that to him either.  Hell no!  What I said is what I had been saying most of the conversation, nothing.

  

If my money was not produced in the next five minutes, this niggah would kill this fuckin entitled Jew, walk out and get ghost; then kill every single possible referral whom could have referred me to this still titty-nippled sucking mother fucker...

(...to be continued...)

Fresh Air (Fifty-One Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) December 30, 2016

Another year as a witness my Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs!  Another fuckin year!  Yah heard may!  I know that you did.  But that’s what, to me, is becoming more transparent; more clarity is setting in about this here bigger picture.

 Shit, you got Pizza Gate, ubiquitous nasty pedophiles; President Trump; The Mandela Effect; False News with the Major Networks; Propaganda in “Free” USA; The Russian Blame Game; Flat Earth Evidence;  Lies, on top of lies, on top of lies…well shit, no wonder this world is fucked, the fucked up!  Everybody in this piece, not peace, confused like a mothah fuckah!  And the beats just keep on getting heavier! 

Am I tired…sure, but just like everybody else; that’s all; no more, no less. 

Fifty-one years to this day I was born into this…shit!  And the smell hasn’t gotten any better.  The environment still as fetid smellin as when I had taken my first breath comin out of my Mother’s Holiest of Holy’s.  Now what?

Well, all I can tell you My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs is, in my truth, the older I get, the more outward I get.  What do I mean?  I mean, in my youth I was a selfish mother fucker!  Straight up!  Inward like a mothah fuckah!  Life was about my existence and the pleasures this life had to offer me, and fuck everybody else!...  Shit, I’m just tellin truths!  Too old not to. 

And I guess that’s what I’m tryin to convey to all of you...when the fuck does your ass find out about who you really are and what the fuck you have to add to this still stank-ass-funky ass life?  

What?  Just to be like everyone else and keep breathin this rank life and one day die?  Noooooo!  Fuck that and the cat in the hat!  My truth, there has to be more than this shit I have been breathing for the past fifty-one years.  Gotstah find some Life Air Freshener!  

Make a mothah fuckah or two understand this life ain’t all about this shit we’ve been breathin into our lungs!  Start sprucing up this place one mothah fuckah at a time!  And finally get rid of this shit smell for good!

And it starts fifty-one years to the day I was birthed…but better late than never...

(...to be continued...)

Save US...We Are All Drowning! (BBP) January 21, 2017

Fuck you!   Fuck you!  White America!  You are drowning and no one is trying to throw you a life preserver!  These other “Global” fuckers want you to fuckin die!  And you just don’t give a fuck!  Goin the fuck under!  Glugg-glugg-glugg… The best you got? 

Talkin bout niggahs makin this nation what it is, a deplorable state, and you white mothah fuckahs are sellin this shit for fuckin peanuts, fuckin fiat money that ain’t worth the paper it’s printed on!  The fuck wrong with you mother fuckers?

Ain’t no niggahs in charge of this here U-S-of-fuckin-A!   The fuckin rich fuckin pedophile Brits done weaseled their asses right back into power clandestinely.   Have you ever just listened or read John F. Kennedy’s “Secret Society Speech”?  No?  The fuck!  It fuckin figures!

What about Obama?  Yeah, what the fuck about Obama!  You damn-dumb-simple shits.  Ain’t no Black mothah fuckah evah, since the existence of this America, been able to do shit without y’alls white asses cosigning like a motha fuckah!  What?!  You fuckin heard my Black fuckin ass mothah fuckahs!  A niggah can’t do shit without a white man’s sanction even to this very day, even if yo nigger ass is the so-called President of this USA!  Fuck y’alls white sorry-ass-denying-asses!  Fuck y’all!  Put any Black, Brown, Yellow…face in the mix, it’s the white mothah fuckahs makin-it-the-fuck-happen!  I gives a good god damn!  Look in the fuckin mirror goddamnit!  And you’ll see what is staring back atcha and realize what the truth really is:  “My own white people have been playing me and fucking me hard…without lube!”

Quit bein mad at our darky asses cause it’s y’alls sorry pale skin mothah fuckahs that are fuckin each othah and blamin the darkies for it!  And I say to you sorry mothah fuckahs:  “Quit lying to each other before it’s too fuckin late!”  We, the Black Americans, are tired of your blame.  This shit is all your fuckin fault.  So, wake the fuck up and make the shit right!

We Black folks still for some reason got our hand out for you to accept to join us in this broke plight that we all non-rich are in!  Keep rejectin it if yah wannah!  But it will be a sad fuckin day when that same hand you been rejectin is the same hand you witness goin under with your denyin white ass with our look of: I told your mothah fuckin stupid ass it ain’t evah been bout no damn racial shit!  Glugg-glugg-glugg…

Just Kickin Rocks (BBP) Friday, January 20, 2017

On the fields of cotton everyone’s plottin.  Dreamin of Freedom cause you really don’t need’em.  Feed’em something sweet and sour every hour.  Cotton mouthed gone south to rebel the hell of the treasonous ways of this here U-S-of-A.  But it’s okay.  

You just gottah walk…

Sashay and go away for a day or more.  Vacay to a beach and snore.  One cannot teach the repetitive nature of absconding this farce of life to keep the sanity.  But you gottah keep it movin, groovin to this funky beat blaring, hammerin never stammerin with the quick wit that it emits tellin you how it is.  This existence never lies...and that's no surprise....

You just gottah keep bobbin your head and walkin...quit with all that fuckin talkin.

(Created while listening to: Zhu "Generation Why")

The Redeemers (BBP) 2017

The farther a man goes up the ladder the more shit that same man has to do to climb up that same ladder.  

One might say that the ladder is nothing save composed of wood or aluminum and rungs which one man would use to climb upward.  Well, yo ass would be wrong.  

You see, it’s all about where one is trying to get.  

One is thinking in the traditional sense where one needs some aid to advance; albeit in an upward fashion because one is only so tall; ergo, one needs assistance to make it upward to whence one would like to ascend.  

But what about a depraved mothah fuckah that’s not trying to ascend?  Has your ass ever thought of that?  No, I'm sure, quite the adverse.  

I have investigated time and time again where one needs that same ladder to aid, not to ascend, but to descend.  Yes, this is all truth.  Ascension and descension are the same depending upon the space which one has to traverse to get to where one aspires to be.  You might be asking yourself, “Why would one want to descend, if one lives on earth?  Why would one want to work in adverse instead of progressing upwards toward the light?"  

Oh, you pure ignorant soul of this earth.  That is such an unforgettable naïve and pure human response to this man-made darkened existence we call life.  But let me tell you something.  There are people that exist such as, myself.  Yes.  Positively.  I am one of the many Redeemers on this earth.  And the evil that is spreading forthwith will be just as expeditiously abated by ones just like me. 

And I’ll show you how…

Broke-Sorry- Ass American Bitches! (Anonymous) December 19, 2016

People worrying too fuckin much about what another mother fuckah’s doin instead of taking care of what is proximal: within the space which they take up; given a twenty mile radius.  That’s all.

 Believe it or not; most people work and die within a twenty mile radius from where they were born and grew up.  I said most motha fuckah!  Can’t stand these mothah fuckahs that just dismiss when you say some shit like that…Most goddamnit!  They ain’t listenin!  Well, I know a friend of mine, now the boyfriend’s mother other-childs-mother’s father…The fuck?   Again, I said most damnit!  I don’t know my Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! 

Shit!  We got Trump damnit!  Do you understand?  You better recognize?!  Trump?  Puh-leeze!  Putin finally going to make some White House visits cause a mothah fuckah speaks Melania’s same language Comrade…shit!  Yah know?  Givin all kinds of fuckin US secrets to the mothah fuckah and the president of this here United States has not a clue cause he don’t speak fuckin Russian like his wife does, a wife that is now getting dicked down by Putin?!   Putin-it on Melania!  You stupid…  Just another limp dick, short, old, sorry-ass, ugly, quasi-rich…white man that doesn’t have a damn thang to loose…other than like Mortimer and Randolph on Trading Places, we, the American people are just another bet,  that the real rich lost with the example of note:

 “Mortimer, I bet you I can get this Nouveau rich, Trailer Park mother fucker elected as President!”

“Ridiculous Randolph!”

“How much you wannah bet Mortimer?”

“Oh, the standard…”

“A dollar again.”

“You got that right!”

“You’re on!”

We can only support the mothah fuckah and hope for the best.  Cause America’s electorate voted for the mothah fuckah!  Not US!  So fuck it!  You won that mothah fuckah on a bet…well goddamnit to hell, let’s see if yah cash in on the bee-atch!

Purging Of The Adam Effect (Morgan Dewitt, Peoples Activists/PAs: Archive Number E-10-6-2016-20:08-CY-10) NWO666-20/20ED

“Just say no!” I didn’t make that slogan up!

Shit no!

 But I’s gotsta steal it!  Oh….yes lawd!  I-the-fuck-do!  And fuck you too-boo-boo! 

Yao Ming? 

Straight up…b.b.b.buttacup!

 Ya’ feel may?  Or, maybe you don’t? 

It’s all good in the hood misunderstood!

 Passing byes,

While the ladies dance majestically bye. 

A true miracle has just transpired that I didn’t think to try just... until then:

Begin seeing the fellow-female-human-being as startling Beautiful;

Instead of sin.

The Wordsmith (Deuce) November 19, 2019

For some reason he had carpentered his desk, adding his own little touches to it, here and there.  Oh, he wasn’t trying to say that he made the desk.  No, he would have to probably study for eighty years of woodworking before he could ever make such a fine proper desk as he possessed. “When one works, one should work in the proper environment of said life’s work; moreover, if proper environment is not obtained then your life’s work becomes a job,” his Father’s edict throughout his juvenile life, “And believe me, you don’t want no damn job!”  So, no, a job was not an option whatsoever.  And Daddy had been right on the money with that maxim…

  

But I am getting off of the story a wee bit.  The alterations of note… Why the alterations you may be asking?... 

Well, hell, my ass is paranoid!  Shit, what do you want me to tell you?  I just love woodworking?  Or some shit like that? That’s what he’s here for!  Shit!  I told him I wasn’t no writer, that’s why I’m telling him the shit...

 

Oh, I’m sorry, you’re correct, the purpose of aforementioned tweaks on the desk.  And please forgive him, he gets like that sometimes when he wants to try to take over the story…

Well, like the white people, he did enjoy himself some safety.  And your ass cannot be too safe; ergo, constructing a side pistol holder on this fine wooded proper utility! 

But the agent, or so called agent, didn’t have a clue.  So it was no surprise to him when he was on his computer, Blogging as he usually does, writing about the future and the injustices of all humans that are not rich, when a white man, with aviator sunglasses, wearing a John Deere baseball cap, plaid shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots, just walked into his room which he uses for said Blogging.  The guy smiled and he thought that odd.  He kind of smiled at the intruder and said offhandedly, “So this is really like this shit goes down?  Like those foul, trite assed movies that they make and flood the market with this shit?  This is how it goes down?”  He asked in amazement.

The guy, still smiling, simply says, “Yeah, pretty much.”

 Damn he sure has some nice teeth to have a southern twang like he does.  Those teeth are definitely real, not some damn dentures or paste-ons , he liked to call false teeth, oh, forgive him , veneers…Shit his mind started to be not focused like usual, not focusing on the situation at hand that if he didn’t reach for that .380 Beretta semi-automatic which was nestled that he so adeptly, if he must say so himself, manufactured the pistol holder there on the right side of his desk… tomorrow, this fine pieced desk he could not enjoy, nor his invention, nor his life...

He smiled to himself thinking, “And that just ain’t goin ta happen…at least not today.” 

(…to be continued…)

The Flash (Forty-Two Years Old, Keahi Sakata, San Diego, California) December 06, 2020 0700

We saw a flash but we didn't know where it was coming from.  The flash was so bright we instantly closed our eyes in fear that, to keep them open would lead to very bad visual acuity, to say the least.

It was bulbous, glorious if I can explain it that way, taking over the horizon with it's brightness then dying down to be able to open your eyes again, the safety zone, then the darkness trailing nigh, like it had affected the whole entire world, the sound, then the rumbling, audibly as well as physically and it's firestorm leading towards us.  I experience this foreboding empathetic depressing feeling of helplessness.

Something was very wrong but it took us maybe a minute to figure that out because of the magnitude of the flash and its aftermath.  Then after we figured it out, it was almost too late...

Time To Turn Off Some Of Those Motha Fuckin, Too Expensive, Bright Ass So-Called Lights! (Unknown Author, Mid-West Region) DED (data entry date) @ 2018-12-06-0030-INTDOC-US-R-66

Time To Turn Off Some Of Those Motha Fuckin, Too Expensive, Bright Ass So-Called Lights!

You can tell the future from the past.  Whatever you have witnessed in the past leads to this here 

future.  And for some damned reason way down deep in your gut you denied it like a motha fuckah!  Oh, yes yah did.  Takin this shit for granted cause, “I’s havin fun!”  And look what that fun has added up to?  “Damn!”

 

I sho nuff saw this shit comin like a muh fuckah!  And look atcha with you old ass!  Unh!  All’s I can say bout cho old Black ass!  Shame fo God…

”What God!?”

Yah see that’s  where yo Black ass fuckin up!  Like all these otha muh fuckas round here, faith wanin like a muh fucka!  Cause whah?!  Y’all’s asses done founds out the mastahs  been lied to, too!  Not just y’alls Black asses!  The white people feelin that big filthy rich dick up that ass!  Bang!  Bang!  Bang!!!  Er'body gettin fucked!  Now er’body up in this bitch mad!  But cho Black ass knows betta!  And it’s time tah start feedin that arid soul some good rich inexpensive faith, til that muh fuckah full as shit!  Cause that’s the only truth yo Black ass has evah known as the truth, Your faith!  It’s bout cho individual faith, not anybody else’s.  Fuck that!  It’s time fo yo everlastin light tah shine!  By turnin off some of these false rich unneeded blinding effulgences.  So we can start seeing the future again, while in the past.

(...to be continued...)

Revelations of The Flat Earth (Fifty-Two Years Old, Eoin Cody, Kilkenny, Ireland) 12:01 AM, Thursday, February 14, 2019

We have found out there has never been a person that has landed on the moon.  There have never been any planets.  No solar system.  No space.  No black holes.  No nebulae.  No meteors…our atmosphere has been a firmament, as noted in the various historical biblical texts, of the various religions ingrained in our society, that were put aside long ago for no other reason save for ridicule and ostracization by society and loosing viability as a valid religion; ergo, the religious sects fearing the extinction of said religion because of the religion telling the truth.  

We, society, Catholics and Protestants, have been lied to throughout human time about our reality on every level; the powers that be, complicit in the deception to mislead us from our God... from the truth.

Our minds not being able to comprehend the infinite flat plane of this level of life.  So we bent this flat plane of a life to not challenge the mind.

We, as a collective, finding out in a horrible turn of events that God, is in fact, real.  And judgment is now being exacted.  

(...to be continued...)