Monday, October 8, 2012

Still Alive, for 10/9/2001

I really hope no one has to Blavatsky my life, but I've prepared for it, as well as the Bush administration took care of "258".

I'm furious and haven't been super-productive, by the standards of people that have no idea what global decision-making involves, so I get to be irritated on top of furious, half the time.

And then, Robin Williams tries throwing a psychiatry wrench at me?  Minutes after we discussed his very poor ability to know if he's being triggered by a human from an organization or an alien or Theo or is he having a cognitive process of his own.  Either way, Oncology trumps psychiatry.

I guess we're goin' full tilt apocalypse.  I've told them I'd make a baby, but they want me to give up my soul and EVERYONE I know remembers the Earthquake was my height: 5'8" that cracked the Washington Monument last year, right before Hurricane Irene got Bloomberg on my phone.

And then I learned this Shaman pinky trick.

And then...

And then I said "WHO, be nice to LA" and they all fucking worshipped me and threw the fucker on his head.

And HOW MANY times have I repeated all of this?  And How Many times have I said "HOW MANY?" with SHOCKING levels of Obvious IMMUNITY?