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Monday, April 20, 2015

It's still that funny long story that's too short, after all, for those with an okay attention span.

I came in just after twilight. Alleged older sister was sobbing over some mysteriously tragic event. Maybe she'd fallen and hurt herself again, as she was prone to, or had been "bad", caught and whooped with "dad's" leather belt...
She was crying too hard for me to ask her anything and get an answer that wasn't inaudible for the inevitable hiccups, left me thinking the worst... bein' perty n alll.. So I went to the mother figure and asked, "what happened?"
As I remember it, I think she started off, "Nothing, don't worry about it." That level of hysteria wasn't nothing. Of course something happened. I asked, "did she fall down and get hurt again?"
"No, don't worry about it. I'll tell you later."
"Did she do something? Is she in trouble? Did she get punished?"
"No. I'll tell you later. Go watch television."
I didn't understand why the woman wouldn't just say what's what. "Are you taking her to the hospital again for stitches?" ...Or something like that. I just kept asking questions like a toddler, though I was almost ten and she kept saying, "I'll tell you later." More than a couple of times. But then she finally revealed that she had been reading about thatallegedly famous haunted house where red glowing eyes were said to have menaced through a window... and the oldest alleged sister that was sobbing so hard believed that she saw red glowing menacing demon eyes through her own window.
"Oh." Then I went to go watch tv and wait for the sobbing older alleged sister to calm down enough that other questions could be asked. It was a cartoonish nonadventure. That's it. Not much longer than the short version, after all.
So which is better?

Saturday, April 18, 2015

funny long story made short but still long for those with short attention spans and it's less funny...

A mother figure was allegedly reading a book about a house famed to be haunted.
At the same time, her oldest daughter that knew when a bike was being stolen, because. of the alleged vision of it,during a move, among other small things, saw evil red glowing eyes through the window and screamed bloody murder, allegedly.
And so mother figure puts the book down, leaving off from the part of the ghostly demon pig with red glowing eyes and looking in the window malevolently at the mother in the book as the mother figue goes to have a look-see at what her troublesome daughter was up to.
That's where I come in, because it had gotten dark, to find the oldest daughter sobbing and her mother, for some inexplicable reason, not wanting to explain this mental brain wave connection that she'd rather forget about and pray that it won't hold up her spiritually evolution or rather, lack of it.
There's a much longer version of the why of it that I have a rough draft of, if anyone could possibly be interested, as it explains my own useless visions of things missing or appearing and things other people were reading. I thought about the compulsions of whether or not it was a good idea to explain my theory of irrational feelings that some villainous character was going to try to kill me, hit me with a car or shoot me with a gun.
Lo and behold, someone I knew happened to be reading about the fictional villain I described and was looking over my shoulder for. So the paranoia was real but the cause for it was just a brain wave of a stupid book (or movie, even!) which is another long short long story..
It's just some experience that prooves to me that demons are not "real" and I do not believe in things made up by those with and from the rotten foundations of tempering out for false gain.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

If I can understand myself then what could POSSIBLY be the problem...

Years ago, I tried my hands at dowsing more than a few times. I tried using the rods to answer yes and no questions; if I had a spirit guide (before I saw possible spirits as parasites),if it had something to tell me, if there was an easy quick way to go west and stare at rocks until they move... The results were inconclusive. Zilch. Those rods swing about really too easily fast in the suggested loose grip. It took moments to accustom myself
as I tried for winning lottery numbers. Nothing. I tried an experiment where I told an acquaintance that's a wrestling fan and must've been thinking of wrestling as I told him to hide some quarters under some pumpkin sized river rocks in the yard and to nott tell me where they were. I explained to him my theory that dowsing rods, like a talking board or tarot cards, connects to the dark matter of the subconscious that is aware of everything that learns us through our senses we learn from to even have a mind to seek reason or wisdom and that if I could learn to consciously connect or reconnect what divisions had occurred, to gain my know-all subconcious, then I'd finally be able to figure out an easy way to go west and stare at rocks until they move.
I said to him that I'm gonna ask the question outloud but he was to ignore me, say nothing and just be a witness. When I finally got the rods straight and calm and I was focused and ready, I said to myself outloud, "Is there a quarter under this rock?"
And my acquaintance answered surely, "No."
I turned to him and said, "don't answer me. I'm not asking you. I'm asking myself ." I remember thinking that my christian acquaintances would be calling this witchcraft and be trying to hurl these big river rocks at me, not even getting flung as close as my feet and I started to smile. They're big little pumpkin sized river rocks that I asked him to line up with about 3 foot spaces inbetween..
I may not be using the rods "correctly" but this was my experiment to see what's what. It's not a great start, middle or finish but...
So I went to the next rock. "Is there a quarter under this rock?"
"No." Just as quickly, he answered .
I turned towards him chuckling. How could he not understand my simple yet specific instruction of "do not answer me..."?
I explained again how I'm asking myself these questions and again, just be a silent witness.
On to the next rock, stilling the spinning rods and trying to remain focused. "Is there a quarter under this rock?"
"Umm, yes."
Now I'm laughing, hard, which is bad for my lungs. I don't understand why I'm not understood. I can barely get out, "SHUT UP BLEEP-IT!"
My experiment was a brilliant failure and we both laughed and laughed. I'm not sure if he understood what I found funny or if I could ever truly understand if he finally did in the end but I put the rods away as I had the talking board and tarot, useless diversions that they are. $1.50 in quarters had been hidden, I believe it was. I guess I'm like.Wyl E. Coyote, or however you spell it, trying something that doesn't work and setting it aside for the next thing, having lost my focus to concentrate on finding something by strengthening a conscious connection to my subconscious .
After explaining after the third try I think he finally understood but it shouldn't have been so hard. This was years ago, I think I wrote about it before the Sandy flood and not finding those notebooks... or did I just think of looking for them without actually looking for them...
The rods spun, crossed, danced. They didn't cross, spin, dance. There was a quarter, there wasn't a quarter. I can't remember photographically but should. Having a photographic memory was a wish I blew birthday candles out over.

Friday, April 10, 2015

An Emporium '$ new WHAT!?!

Words are very important. Meanings should be honest and concise. Calling someone something that's not nice and usually untrue may hurt the feelings as the name caller intended as inspired but it doesn't have to be that way. We fall down and get hurt not expecting life to be an untainted heaven of perfection, as has been rebutted at me for wanting that honesty, as if it's too much to ask for while false promises are still being made, which I do not accept.
Yes, throwing objects could hurt others physically but sometimes a broken bone or torn flesh can mend quicker than years and years of name calling and lies, except for when the trauma of physical attack could outweigh if not equal such harm. It just takes a well placed word or two to do damage or fix the problem but only if EVERYONE is listening and capable. They've got to motivate themselves with the understanding and not give up their honest potential to the traditions of being subjects to bad ideas that need the popo to grab a plunger...

There's this magical cloth that everyone is said to have that's to be kept clean and shine, though it seems like no one is doing this, not those that most insist on it anyway. Now if you're lucky enough to believe in this magical cloth and convince everyone else that yours is cleaner than theirs, especially because those with the cleanest cloths they say are clean because they say so if they say there's a magical cleaning agent in the sky that automatically keeps them clean because they said so, more than the average others, these people win entry into a wondrous magical place when they give up the ghost. Even though most people aren't sure how to agree on how to define this magical cloth, where it comes from, where it's kept, how to keep it pristine, exactly, it is a major source of concern.
Other people worry about the magic cloths of others and are willing to fight and kill over it or risk getting their own magic cloth dirty in manipulating others to fight and kill over... the tarnishing of other magic cloths. I would think that everyone should see how such actions would soil the magic cloths as those that assure us that we do have them and they must be so very clean... are mostly leading trumpet charges into mud fights and far flung poo...
Some say that there are creatures that are smarter and stronger than human yet not having their own alleged magic cloths, they want to take and soil what they can. It's preached that "ALL acknowledge a magical cloth giver of total wisdom and power..." yet disputes are not magically resolved even and especially when this magic cloth giver is used without actually doing anything. So these allged creatures allegedly want these magic cloths even though they aren't visible cloths, and the creatures aren't visible, have no weight or real substance, are somehow more of a secret to the magic cloth holders than those that allege to know all about it, while we spin on a six thousand year old turtle in the center of space... Whatever these creatures they speak of could want someone's magic cloth for also remains a mystery, like anyone can really eat an imagined cake where the only substenance is as thin a fleeting thought.
I'm not takikng anyone's word for it for as much as a grain of salt, especially if the "foundation" of this "knowledge" comes from those that have always made stuff up with motives, even without being supported by an actual giant 6 thousand year old or whatever turtle in the center of space and all that.
It's a bully of a system to intimidate and all the white satin and gold and silver trim in the world is not going to hide the filth that followers of certain magic cloth followings refuse to see as they ignore it.
Also, if their idea of clean means hiding their child porn, should I play in the dirt more? Somehow, I'd rather just do my own dusty thing and not worry about comparing my evil deeds to their shiny goodness.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Being redundant...

Sometimes, something will happen. There's an urge to comment or make a joke, either a stupid joke or a thoughtful one that gets repressed as it's mulled over a second longer. The moment was there. It gets passed up. Someone else says it. It may not even be what the small or large group of a bunch of people and their dog would be willing to admit to thinking. And sometimes others say, "That's exactly what I was thinking!"
Sometimes something will happen. Then there's an urge to put a fist through someone's skull or at least gently push that someone down... a flight of stairs ...That thought. is strongly. repressed, only to hear that it happened elsewhere, a short time later... And couldn't happen to a nicer guy. Or maybe it could. It seems horrible things happen to nice people all the time, despite anyones belief system.
Knowing when a phone will ring and who has called, not getting on that airplane for the feeling that angels are waving at you not to, not eating that iffy smelling tuna salad. Well, the last one is obvious.
Science has proved that brains generate waves in this ocean of air we breathe and and are smothered in by harmful thoughts of others outnumbering any good thoughts. A feminine side and a masculine side urged by institutionalizing entities. to fight over false dominance. As matter with organs and brains that function on their own volition, chemically, living bodies absorb all sorts of cues, patterns like snowflakes forming knowledge in that crystalline growth accumulating information unmeasured.
It's been said that hypnosis can help people lose weight, quit smoking or burn themselves by touching a normal temperature plastic pen or freeze their hands on a warm wooden pencil. The things that any subconscious mind might be able to accomplish for the betterment of self or/and all if only we weren't held back by strange notions intended to harm, as it's said to be for everyones own good that assuming-self leaders spend resources that kill.... Machines, pollution, explosions, toxins...
When I was a child that believed anything was possible because that was told to me, and promised, I hoped, prayed and wish on my awful birthday cakes for things to be that certain way that I thought would make everyone happy, in the same way there are still people that would wish for world peace in this world where so many people want to be the good versus evil, to war on and win against, longing to end a sucker punch in their own broken -in backdoor debasements. So many trojan horses gallop untethered.
I had some daydreams of being a scientist and inventing a box that could deconstruct trash into instant energy and my desire (evil as I was and that no one knew the depths of my depravity ) was to give this to everyone. Praying, hoping and wishing on my horrible birthday candle blowing no wish that ever happened... How can the magical wonders of childhood not be disappointing and why would people do that to children unless there was some sickness the actions and beliefs serve. So that did not help in my search to be smart for science and of course,neither does that poor belief of there being things only a god could know. If there's anything that any world needs, it's to not wait for a god to wipe our... noses. You cannot be responsible for yourself or a soul if you're waiting for a god to tell you what to do while the leaders are in the barn having orgies with your expencive teddy bear collection. It's enough to put someone out of their mind until they start to float away.. So if someone is out of their mind with the mental stresses that a god does not put more on people than they can handle, allegedly, their levitation is either godly or demonic. It couldn't possibly be because of unstudied mysteries of the subconscious mind, in the brain/body that functions chemically to achieve life and a will to live, the natural cultivation to survive even when voices that say othernonwise of what is preached. Saying that there are things that only god should know is saying we are all to stick our fingers into wall outlets as if only god is to know what will happen.
I do not suppose that I'm the first to suggest that reasonable counter debates needs to be repeated as much as zealots repeat singing useless praises that worsen these religious infections. Only Only charlatans claim the lack of their own comprehension is a gift.
Everyone could deepen their own understanding of their own subconscious, except that many preconceived notions must first be discarded. If something wasn't true to begin with, is anything being lost or stolen?. If there's pain, it's from ripping the lie out and looking at it for what it is, not worth anything for all the time and energy of devotion that other people that should not have been trusted took..
The deeper you go into this uncharted sea, the more you know of its innocence in the depth that requires acclimation. There are levels in altitude above sea level. It's basically the same t thing. Distractions have probably made this make less sense than what I handwrote. If there are no comments to the contrary I'll know I'm reasonably understood... And so, All environments affect the way of thinking. They even show their onion layers when you look at fog on different ground levels, like deeper oceans under water, how smoke flattens out from a chimney or drifts as a splotchy cloud of insects.
I've heard that crazy people can drive sane people bananas. Yet some people think that if a psychiatric "professional expert" claims to have seen any levitations and other phenomenon, that it prooves there are demons that possess in that in that religious way, like those accused of being witches were really demon fornicating witches with unwholesome powers they never used so that they could be killed by "righteous " witch hunters.
Maybe the shrinks have gone shrunken head bananas or are just trying to sell what they can for the calling, if they think their religion could use the inspired help.
I've heard masses of people can share hallucinations and I've seen that such is possible. Besides moldy bread and bad ideas that have groups killing each other and with the lead, lickable frogs and amount of mercury exposed to dry windy elements. of evaporated spore-like qualities and the breeding of mushrooms and unchecked thoughts because an institution claims the monopoly on high strangeness, it's not likely we'll be in control of ourselves anytime soon, or our own consciousness or have any true free will.
Oh, it seems there's much exposed mercury. in and around places where unbelievable sightings occur quite frequently. And besides so many other toxins imbibed within and without the so called food chain, suggestions made to people under those influences that attack mind, body, and subconscious, under the influence of any material that would be hazardous. if you aren't aware of what made you dizzy, lightheaded with heavy feet, twitchings and bouncing into invisible realm boulders of odd shapes that were not there. a moment ago and somebody really is out to get you besides just anything leading to limitations, feelings of being watched and all can seem real because they sometimes are.
Deviating from my rough, this had better make sense.
Oh no, I've misplaced my other page!

Sunday, March 22, 2015

There's a saying, to put yourself in other people's shoes...

I was slothfully very young when told to put myself in the shoes of others. I understood it was not to be literally. I wouldn't have done that with other's stinky shoes, being a gross child, myself. I heard it from all sorts of directions. I've heard children are sponges. I certainly thought about some of the things I was aware of hearing and I thought about what it would be like to be someone else. That must be when the bad dreams started .
There's the story of the boy that cried wolf. I'll never understand why anyone would willingly prefer to be a parasitic psycho for the cheap thrills of de-molecularizing their own DNA just to be a nasty something or other liar, etc. Not only does the boy put himself in danger making stuff up and gets himself killed but it's for the very reason he loses credibility so that no one believes him when he finally does tell the truth. No one comes to his aid when he screams for it. I had a vivid imagination, could see and hear the god-awful visuals playing out and don't feel it's necessary to put forth gory details .
So psychos say, too, that honesty is everything while using the come hither articulations that sound so good to those that want to believe them as they complain about the dishonesty of certain folk that may or not be dishonest, depending on what party who is affiliated with. There are so many camps that make stuff up and are so obviously wrong, like a boy thinking it would be fun to have the villagers run out to his rescue until he'd no longer be believed. Political, religious, judicial... Is there global warming climate change? Is poison being purposefully put into our food? Is there a Jesus? I have my own answers to these questions and they are all meaningless to me as far as others telling me what's what. A slow extinction is happening now to all life forms so I'm not even worried about the possible zombie apocalypse I keep hearing about... an extra strong oncoming rabies epidemic?
When I was in first grade and was handed a questionnaire that wanted a box checked for my race, the woman alleging to be my mother told me to mark caucasian, that I could pass for a whitey and life would be easier. Why the school sent that questionnaire out when the government has its census stuff to waste more time on seems like an extra waste of time. They never taught me what caucasian meant, which seems to be wrong anyhow since I wasn't born in the caucus mountains and I didn't figure it out for years. Being a whitey is not as helpful as I was told, either.
The superior religious family I was allegedly lucky to be in, of husband patriarch, wife and three point whatever children may as well have had a grand master dragon saying grace at the head of the table. There were no discussions about news, literature, history... Life was just an empty merry go round of school, church and the not so merry with the go rounds, as we emulated the peaceful jesus bringing a sword. And we were to be happy, alway happy to not have the contradictions explained. while chewing tough, jaw aching liver, be happy we weren't starving in China.
While it's possible to empathize with how others think or feel, I as my body could never sprout from anywhere other than whence I came.
With an unnoticed certain word used that I also didn't quite understand, in conjunction with the idea that a certain other group were in danger of certain hot lower than southern places because they were said to have killed a god or a god's son, depending on the church we went to at the time, rarely mentioned as it was, mortal people killed some son of a god, a saviour... that got killed... by Roman soldiers... being told what to do by an enslaved people?
I never understood it then, I'll never understand it now. A slave threatened by soldiers might say anything.
The separation of church and state was being made a bit of a big deal of. Being taught the pledge of allegiance to an inanimate banner, figure head, standard that can have its meaning changed with its vague symbols and all anyone has to do is claim they're superior with authority and they can take a pair of twins and try to sew the eyes of one onto the back of the head of the other? The shwastica was once a symbol for good things and it was easily tainted.
I had to listen to preachers that should never find a soapbox as they stand behind fancy podiums bought from tithes and pretend to explain what this god in heaven wants or intends while said god is supposedly unknowable and saying saying black people were created to be slaves and the Jewish people would really learn about suffering when jesus allegedly finally comes back. That was way back in the 1970s, it was, "any day now!"
Nostradamus, yeah I could have the spelling wrong, predictions for the end, THE END! was estimated for the late 1980s. I had. written it down from a documentary that was on a cable channel back then.
There's a really interesting book called Popular Delusions and the Madness of the Crowds. Or something like that. It's sort of like a grown-up. Goops and How Not to be One. I can't remember the authors but those are something to remember :) I guess for some,, not forcing a mind to rot through non-reasoning is near impossible though I still may not have half a mind, even. Did I say that right? or backwards?
Remembering fondly of walking through the front door after school and hearing an already brewing tirade of what rotten brats we were, "why can't you put yourselves in my shoes?! And I would think, why do they act like they've got it so hard if this is their free will and, you should be happy you're not starving in China..." I had enough brain to not say that outloud. So we took turns putting ma's high heeled shoes on. It seems the phrase is more for mental posturing and false sympathy, comparing who I've learned whatever from. To find out later that the favorite, baby of the house was getting into things. so older siblings would be punished for the evil steps they're to be and a superior wise parent cares not about what's fair with, "Tough!" If women are like, childishly bouncing around with confused hormonal emotions expecting that having children will be like playing with dolls that girls are given to pretend nurturing, they're in for a miserable struggle against against what churches and allegedly Hitler call "material" that matter called evil simply for being the husk "created" fer killin'.
And that's another thing, another long page made short. Are we agreed that if psychos are happiest in making others miserable, then true misery is not interested in company or coming close to those shoes to wear.
That bad saying of misery loving company, when it's psychos are at their happiest in causing miseries, organizing project paperclips and Tuskegee syphilis experiments.
When I had my few miserable moments, it's been years since I had a headache, cold or vomited... But I was never in the mood to have anyone around me or be around anyone that could complain of my moaning and make me feel worse, which must make me a false psycho to laugh about it. If putting myself in the shoes of others makes me a negative downer, so it is done.
End on a joke? Knock knock.
Who's there?
I know, it's a terrible joke.
Leave a comment, whatever.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

If brainwaves are real then thought becomes matter...

...and the subconscious is under unconscious attack.

Since the first "enlightened" splitting of that first amoeba what's future generations of triple double negatives would later become the varieties of life, including monkeys that would later have mutated offspring that later become humans, ALL material life sheds materials, whether a meal becomes excrement, pain forms tears dripping from eyes, exertion causes perspiration, the mysterious mind of which intellect supposedly forms has thoughts and dreams that move through air like a current in water or mist in a breeze, fog from moist ground or ocean sprays fanning outward, bouncing off of some objects or other thoughts or being absorbed by others with stronger densities. Science is a physical matter from our earliest primordial darkness.

It's claimed that the light of spirituality has consciousness and strength superior to the material it divides to be host to it, using emotions of fear or ecstasy to punish or reward its captives from within. It hasn't perfected the techniques to fool and betray the hand that feeds it the very life being taken, as any parasite that feeds off the host. There is still life on this planet they pray to an alleged superior to destroy.
Chemical reactions, hallucinations, the puppeteering of bodily functions promote degradations towards accepting that demons made by god or satan exist and are after souls or that angels can rescue the victims, if offerings are made. If spirit is real, then it is material also, to be able to manipulate. Religion comes into being so that a weakened host can be given meaning, for to give proof of worthiness in that weakness and follow the deadly, mortal directions of voices that command death, against strangers, their own children, against themselves.. Why else would they've opened themselves and whoever to worsen their diseases with self-whooping, walking barefoot to let the feet get cut up and infected, fasting and overwork until exhaustion screams night hags in their ears and on their chests...

Their bodies know something is terribly wrong but the damage messes with the gut/mind communications... devils is the only answer they'll accept as they program themselves with prayer to be ever weaker and needy... like a humanized god would want to take care of weak and needy people that look more and more fried to go with that bacon cologne.

Friday, March 13, 2015

Not writing the days as they blend in the black of my zebra crumbed coffee...

I don't know why reading about cockfights and such would make me think of my alleged siblings and how our christian parents sicked us against each other, to be kicked in the throat and in turn, kick a crotch, nearly losing an eye and being strangled until the only thing that stops the fight is who puked on who first. It was what it was. We'd wash for dinner and someone said grace.
So many people "feel" safe if they think they're in a safe environment. It seems if they're religious, they think a god or angels, whatever, protects them, it seems. It's irrelevant that hearing of death for an hour or more every Sunday, it just doesn't seem to stop them from being nasty to whoever they're inspired to be nasty to. I wonder, if someone broke into their homes late at night and woke them up by hitting a staticy balloon in the face, no matter how bizarre the intruder looked or if the intruder was more frightened of the lady of the house for all the skin creams she'd have on her face, would the accosted not remember? Would the assaulted be so surprised that their fragile brains would make something up or replace the memory with something seemingly more tolerable?
I think if some stupid clown broke into my cardboard animal cracker box to molest me with a balloon or something else, something worse, I'd freaking well remember it.
Sometimes people are believed when some jerk in a costume does something. Sometimes these stories are made up by attention seekers or schizophrenics, etc. I'd rather be known for honesty than for the attention that many unfortunates that don't consider or care how history views them. Not that history will know me, I thank me. I shall never remember the name of that guy that killed some other guy for the fame of it. But I'll always remember a big dog bursting through a screen to maul me. I had been humming to myself. I'm told I attracted the attack.
Short of brain injuries caused on purpose or by accident, it will never be plausible that a brain would betray itself by making stuff up to fill in strange gaps that should not be artificially filled and should simply not be there. Fuzzy memory? Seemed like a dream? Ever work out a puzzle? Sleep paralysis is also not natural. I've almost always been partially conscious of moving to relieve stiffness while sleeping, waking with mild pins and needles, shaking an arm or a foot, going back to sleep. I've also woken suddenly with a feeling of about to be jumped on to find a spider on the ceiling above my head, no longer bothered by an older sibling wanting something like some sanity or whatever. It would be nice to be so comfortable that there would never be a need to move. Unfortunately, you need to move. Laying still too long causes soreness.
Which brings me back to home intruders. If they're human, you're up and running. If it's a bear or some type of animal, you're up and running. If you're telling the truth then people should believe you. There will be evidence, somewhere. But that clown with the long narrow balloon that was not twisted into animal shapes for anyone's amusement but the clown's, do you know what I'm saying. (hear the echo with me) A-L-I-E-N-S. And a little bit of nasty I read about, of sci-fi aliens that I still consider illegal, if they're real, if I've got to buy an i.d. card or driver's license, those expletives should also. Sorry I can't remember the source of where I read this...
"They harvest memories through our eyes...?"
They "wait for us to breed out aggression ...?"
Are "collecting massive amounts of information ..."???
For some people, these aliens only observe, while "taking ideas and implanting ideas..."??????
There may be some paraphrasing but I've heard this many times before from many others.
Taking and implanting is NOT "just" observation. That's a mental something-handling, if not man-handling. That's violating a brain, a mind, the body, which the two are still somewhat connected to some bodies . It's MANIPULATIONS . The sort that psychos assume.
I've come to see these noncredible "super advanced and superior life forms" as nothing more the the charlatry of psychic /medium/spiritualists. They're all clowns waiting to hit you in the face with a balloon or worse... give everyone a cream pie/pearl necklace.
Any psychic that never mentions a body has no need for spirits, the parasites driving the most vile inspirational brainwaves... Any alien thinking that cripples an infant or animal in the ways that has been done and then say. "grow up..." as people say of humanity with the god of various institutions that argue against change, argue against evolving, fighting to stay as it perfectly is... They are parasitic intruders with pies to lob, pies with hidden bricks.
And "bless" their putrified hearts, they do look like clowns too! I was angry when I wrote this on paper. At least I'm not responsible for a satan, as I sometimes joke. These are just thoughts that may not be my own. There is no forgetting that, maybe.
Aggression is bred into everything as a positive spiritual and religious "thang" , if people want to play that good versus evil game of war with their own demony dark sides they're taught to hate with guilt and try to conquer.
That's how I was taught in churches where ever we were sent. If anyone was learning anything "spiritually " the way it's expected, it should all be done already .
But it's not.
The same things are still going on "under god's unchanging love."

Monday, March 9, 2015

But I don't wanna hibernate...

I've been eating something hot recently and the pains of it hasn't been going away. There were days when I could eat two whole zebras for breakfast, which usually was really lunch if I got up past noon after being up reeaallly, really late doing things. Then two zebras dwindled down to one, then half of one. Then I didn't want zebras for breakfast or lunch. Or dessert .
I did eat other, more healthy - wholesome.- things, fruit and vegetables. Real food does make a body feel better. Better than non-food. I'm.lucky I can eat nuts but crunchy things tend to hurt my seemingly pepper stripped mouth. It's become a craving though, as I've been searching for something to give me more energy.
So sleepy lately. Putting vinegar in some food is not much help, especially when I have some sitting in a cup I forgot and poured my coffee into.
Oh - my - mouth... That was as bad as brushing my teeth andtaking a thirsty sip of orange juice. I tried to finish my coffee, didn't want to waste it but the vinegar got thicker towards the bottom of the cup. I had drunk half and then the smell of it was too much.
I want to go through my paper bundle notebooks and find the weird and nearly fun stuff. Maybe when the weather's warmer. Almost there. If I'm still around.
I've not been reading about links as I should. This touchscreen thing wants to act like simple things are complicated. Yeah, it's all the inanimate object's fault... as I ferget something and take another awful sip.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

An Experiment ...

My brand new rickshaw is motorized. The enclosure resembles the inside of a carriage. There's a tiny mirror ball that spins overhead at a moderate speed, reflecting purple lighting spots onto the pink and green interior. I do not usually listen to music. However, Abba seems a good choice to play while a harmless fog machine bellows out a harmless lavender cloud of mystery around the driver, my fellow sloth and myself as we circle my castle near the mountains in the state of New York.
I have finished my first two comics, the first I shall not yet name. And the second, EVIL SLOTH LIVE, has been easily published and is doing very well among my millions of fans.
Dare I say, BILLIONS...

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Fun times...

I may not be good with writing however great I think it must be as I read what my hands itch my brain to scratch out. And when I try posting, I try to type it up very carefully with one finger usually holding my place in my notebook.
I cheat. I look at my words as I skim over the alphabet and all. And I keep a very sharp attention on that blinking cursor line, as much as possible. I realize that a broken record is beginning to take form, turning into a bad habit as if it wants to be a catch phrase and there are so many years worth of this as a one-liner, almost enough to be overused. I avoid the religious channel because of them saying what echoes at me from the past. And there was something really funny that I wanted to start this post off with.
But I've forgotten.
I feel like nibbling, at least until I remember .
I'd like to finish my Cloverfield Two before posting more on my Evil Sloth 4 Ever blog so maybe I should put a poem in the second post or just leave it in an organised mess. Or a disorganized mess. WHAT WAS THAT FUNNY THOUGHT! REMEMBER!
Oh well... ah...

I was looking at "reptillian shapeshifters" (?) on YouTube and there's a video recording of a newslady with really well-done makeup, gorgeous right down to that metallic brown eyeshadow. Then the voice of the guy recording her says to watch her eyes. I watched. I missed his gist at first because the metallic eyeshadow was distractingly reflecting the bright studio light at a badly pixelated moment... oh,that was it?The metallic eyeshadow possibly interfering with the pixelation? I hope no one thinks she's evil like me...oops.... I hope she's safe enough.

I wonder if anyone would let me know what sort of app or special effect software was used, what technique for those goblin footage videos that are too blurry to really make out. When the people jump screaming that, allegedly, something a foot or so tall is walking or running across the room, the normal humans in the videos almost always scream the same way with nearly the same reactions as if it's a plague rat or something. If I were a goblin, I'd be offended. I haven't seen anything where someone just remains silent and follows the little critter, see how it got in and calk up that whatever, hole in the wall, dimensional portal in the floor.
They never follow. And that's it? They stop recording? They don't go check it out? No reaching down like King Kong to lift the little fellow for possible communication in man-handling, fer a closer look-see?
Oh, I'm missing Community!

Friday, February 27, 2015

Purging that, "Goin' ta hell..."

I just know there was another paragraph on Mrs. Bates being innocent that I can't find in my rough draft now. Okay, I confess I had fallen on my head. But that was years ago. And not once, but twice. And then there's that ongoing joke that many seem to think is funny, smacking a kid in the head (not a goat). Even if an adult thinks it knows a child did something inspiringly stupid, either seeing the kid running into traffic or being accused of something that gets that "palm upside the head" or worse, worse than soap in the mouth,a violent beating, it really was never funny. Seeing such things in comedies is something else. I can laugh with everyone else remembering those good old days that seem to be a cue for a majority that it's acceptable. to abuse your children with hypocritical notion. Yeah, I didn't say fudge, I said that f-word the way I heard it, from the adults I'm told to emulate...
No one has to believe in concussional brain damage while it happens. Maybe that's why I have a few minor memory problems, learning problems, like having to read google help over and over for a month before something makes sense. I'm not gonna whack my head against a brick wall. But I'll read something two or three times, think about it, go somewhere else while yelling at myself to figure it out, go back after a day or so,, read it again and so on. And I think I've finally got that line break figured out!
This makes me feel, not smart like I'd always been promised when praying to be smart, although nobody asked me what I prayed for, learning later that world peace is negated by those inspired to want war, so I'm not happy about it. I'm more keen to get to the next puzzle...
If this contraption can accomplish such,like trying out links, though I'd prefer to understand them, if not completely, at least well enough. It's my trial and error and maybe might could help out some other marshbillies what's got people tellin' them ta do nothin' but let a good lord look after them and not keep said promises so nasty justifications can be assumed so others, always others, can be sent ta hell like I'm supposedly goin'. I just can't seem to help myself:) Oops, no god here.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Still about D. Abbey...AND THIS DARN MONKEY POO!

The cursor DID jump away from me and just WOULD NOT go where I wanted it. I DID NOT TOUCH V! Fifteen minutes with no patience that had evaporated long ago and everyone makes mistakes so I perform my own calming ritual I liken to an exploding supernova (mentally) and it dissolves... I thought there was a "new page" option but it's not here now. Oh, how there'd better NOT be those alternate realities of millions of mes going through the same yet alternate annoyances as I try to get back to my original draft... Oh, I can't yet. The distractions of others suddenly walking around as I wait for elusive solitude again forces me to simmer evily today, like any other day, as I wait on, well, nothing anymore, calming as I go back to a blog, in a universe that seems to want me to be evil though I'd rather WATCH the Angry Beavers, not be one. It was only last year I tried for email, unsure as I was, doing such a wicked thing on my own. Yes, even tho those that told me any and every action is wicked and godless and I should just sit in that corner until that lord came, am I to be as Lucifer waiting under the warring heavens ... No Jesus is telling me how to do anything. Unfortunately, tho I'm anti-spiritual because of religion, working like a monkey with a puzzle, I'm compelled to purge myself of the vomity black mass that is splintering in light, made into a "beautiful" prism that dangles at the end of an anglerfish. Color me a rainbow from the darkness divided by light. So many thoughts crowd my brain, so much more to read and learn; fix an error on my reading list by not doing anything? Will my personal dams burst quicker with bubblegum plugs or hold steady by hope alone?,?? After reading some Candy Corn Chronicles and waiting 24 hours, it did seem to reboot. Is reboot a good word? Or maybe I did something different, like touch the reading list first before the add even tho there was no instruction for it after pressing the help. I certainly did not laugh and hum like a maniac as I usually do.. I had been a little giddy to receive a comment and assume that my reply went through. And so I'll go thru some of my paper bundle notebooks for what I deem necessary or interesting. Shall it be from my own sad and angry stash, things funnier than a serial killer whacking a hero in the head with a shovel (bad Jason movie)? Maybe I'll write my Cloverfield fanfiction. I also wrote something years ago titled. Field of Clovers,, years before Cloverfield came out. There may be some similarities but nothing to make me need a foil hat. I have my own theories about physics type stuff and strangely, a certain someone of the faithful crowd told me I should start my own George Carlin-esque religion because of my schizophrenic crazy talk. Unbelievable as it all is but life is a soap opera where nice people become nasty villains and bad guys turn into heroes and switch back and then trade places again, all while everything is to stay the never-changing way away from its own evolution. Maybe after supper I'll look for that bibble of mine that I started writing a couple of years ago :P

A question about Downton Abbey,

can anyone tell me what happens to Mrs. Bates? I had missed the past couple of weeks,3 or 4, and as far as I'm concerned, she's totally innocent and I want her husband to be innocent, too, but I've been missing it. I'm also curious if Baxter helped Thomas out of some problem, are they on friendly terms now?... Next, should I go back to the hatemail of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster? I look to the left of the dashboard and wonder what's on the "next blog" and immediately some bible verse slaps my eyes with ¿proverbs 3:5-6! Basically saying to pretend everything is okay and never be responsible by learning to rely on yoursel, on your own gut instincts that came with us from our primordial whatevers, as this lord will be responsible for all that happens (and I'm taking this personally, blogger's added meaning, too) for all that happens and everyone is to become brittle-narrow without acceptable qualities and variety, on the "straight" path of others' opinions... I read the profile and this person seems terrified of something, life? Death? The inbetween? She keeps praising his "holy" name, halle-lu-whatever.... I should go back and figure out line breaks... When I see or here stuff like this I can't help but think of the decades wasted on belief, bible reading and prayer. Anyone faithfully waiting on that Jesus to make them good and have that wonderful life that preachers promise will be waiting until their own end of days. Shall I never use the "next blog" again? Darning it, I always deviat from my rough drafts to add more evil, remembering those evil days of youth, being told to trust in that lord and do as your elders direct and then they tell you to do things that conflict with what they just said and where's that Jesus when an older boy wants to mule you with candy bars in the socks or other elders tell you to pull your pants down and your praying that one of you drops dead or something and at least a candy bar is more than the love of a snicker'n whoop'n for things you didn't steal OR accept... I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, so many sad and angry ones. Up past 3am and it's after noon, still sleepy after coffee and more shocked that Mrs. Bates was arrested, HO DARE THEY! I'm still only vaguely aware of the possibilities.of this blog world, havinglearned texting only three or so years ago. I think the cursor jumped away from me so I''ll, maybe not finish on another page... what a distraction making me lose where I was as I was saying of possibilities of this blog world I originally pictured as a newspaper styled opinion pagev

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

a test page

As far as I know, I've never seen a gremlin. I have seen Gremlins, the movie and parts 2 and 3. That was so many years ago, before these problems really got noticeable. I have my gut feeling it's a "vibe" thing caused by my previous acceptance of spirituality of.which I've been trying to shed, which would be dangerous if that causes poltergeist happenings. Religion did it's dirty job of programming me to be evil for the focus of their. own problems in the unhealthy-ness of their beloved sins, since their idea of good is the opposite of my idea. They have no inkling of the problem with mingling around and giving tithes to corrupters that assume the false authority the faithful just give them, they put over them, pretending there's a god and worse... If any of them truly believed what they say, they would not lie, EVER or do any of the things they say.are bad... (with the wisdoms of said god there would be no hypocrisy ...) Why they're so against a new idea, as I guess atheism is to them when they keep acting like it's come from out of nowhere and they confuse it with devil worship. But I think atheism would most likely not even exist if not for the parasitic spirituality of religion. It's a poor sarcasm that I'll apologize to a stranger that hasn't yelled at me to flashback over the imagery of others, for me or anyone to burn in hell as they seem to want to with their dwelling on it and that do unto others... because I did not comprehend back then that children are expected to automatically know to get on their knees and allow vile communions to be put into them without asking. Not that asking is good. But they still use war words of "submit or perish". An apology from them would never be enough if they're going to keep doing this religious crack. They've got to stop themselves like with a 12 step program that works for them to stop themselves or their spiritual desire for destruction will be the finish of them, not just their physical bodies they're taught to hate.. Slowly or quickly, they keep killing themselves for their faith, killing eachother and they say "but what's wrong here besides you? We're the good guys. and it's our god given preemptive right to suckerpunch and attack when and where ever, however we feel like... if god did say to take, ravish, destroy... who needs a satan or devils and the possessions that come with spiritual inspirations.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

THE SCREEN WENT BLANK! part 2 of Bulging Baggage...

I have no patience to rewrite this and so I leave what was saved without saving it and start at the bottom of what somehow got screwed up. I tried not to panic, tried not to scream and SWEAR. I thought about it,turned off the dang thing, took the battery out for a moment,5 minutes fixed my unsendable texting problem, it seems, but I still can't see around my narrow window. Oh well? And OH MY GORSH, I had finally figured out the labels, I think,and preset them. I was so tempted to delete the whole thing... Here's the rest...Where was I? Doctors are allowed to look at what they do when operating. It should be expected. Can you imagine a doctor not looking at where an incision is about to be made?Silvery scalple trembling nervously because he shant look upon his "art"... Makes me wonder why anyone would waste effort,time, resources on 5,7,9,43 and so on, course meals with so many different pieces of silverware to use... 3,4,9and so on, different forks, spoons, knives to remember. Where ever I end up, I I'm using only the closest spoon, fork or knife, even if it's only a butterknife to cut meat or a steak knife to butter a roll. It's a senseless amount of trouble to worry over that does not repel giggling psychos all too happy to learn such an "art". Anyone that can read should get my gist. Heck with the artful rules. Everyone will have to tolerate my intolerable writing and only guess how this weakness infuriates me into my own psychotic giggles that I can't see what I'm doing as I'm doing it. Where, oh where is my free will to see this! One comment about typing class, you could get a crick in your neck either way,holding still to one side or looking between what's being copied and the typing. Not healthy. The stupid class only showed how to plug in, turn the machine on and the other annoying stuff I no longer remember. Thar wuz no maintenance learn'n. I never was given the mental stimulation that it might be good to know the inner functions of things. Did I write inner functions... And this reminds me of those annoying "people" that say to not worry about how something works to the curious, that they say to not question that it simply does work, to not question certain things that could lose some sort of imaginary magic. All these years later, after not having the desire to question much of anything, I look around at that which seems crazier than me...after not questioning why all that was created by perfection has never worked properly, I QUESTION IT ALL! They'd have questions not be asked because they are not equipped to answer while they've got the lack of nerve to try to test me?Those that don't answer honestly. It's like not catching a cold anymore. I haven't had those sniffles in years. I've developed a gut reaction of disbelief with those I suspect not being honest. If you have no instruction to plug something in and turn it on then how's it going to work! People need to know! A certain vague book of half truths and mostly falsehoods is not going to help. It is NOT going to help. That certain vague book is NOT "the only thing everybody needs" to sustain some quality of life that's no good. Those certain books deny needed qualities while implanting delusions .That book is not even good for the psychos that go sterile and impotent as they pretend a god commands the stagnance they instigate to hold everyone back into a kindergarten of compliance. How did I get to one of my more serious rants so soon? Many notebooks = bulging baggage. But I still write in a notebook, I mean, handwrite into a bundle of papers... There are many malfunctioning appliances around me. At the moment, the fridge may have a positive action lurking to rot some meat and kill me, freezing the juice and thawing ice cream into a cardboard milkshake. What's a better thing to do than pretend to be happy about it, actually witnessing the opposite fluctuation? And yeah, when it gets me so annoyed and I yell at any inanimate objects in my vicinity that irk me enough to be crazy like that, it makes for appliance backtalk sass in not working, which brings about a strange new level of crazy laughter of disbelief and the pendulum swings back, most of the time. If it is to be a science, it is not yet accurate, of course. Anyone reading this? Got any thoughts? LEAVE A COMMENT!

Monday, February 16, 2015

Bulging Baggage

I think I can get to the really strange, eventually. As if this isn't strange. For me, it is. I'll try to get to the bigfoot, fairies, glowing beetles that were NOT fireflies... I'm just a monkey, tho sloth, puzzling over this square colorful object like a round peg into a triangle slot. And I'd SWEAR EVERY TIME I've got to go back a character or two or many and fix those letters! I SWEAR, I pressed the space bar and after commas or periods! I SWEAR, it's unbelievable how the curser line gets lost in the middle of a paragraph or won't let me position it where it should be to my satisfaction! It would be so nice if I could get it so totally right the first time, every time. This is sort of fun and sort of the opposite. There's too much that needs to be said that I'm not hearing from because of obstacles. I still feel like I could die at any moment, thanks to being forced to go to churches that screamed death at me when I was a young sloth that had not yet understood my own evil ways, inexperienced with those manipulations designed by a false intelligence, to do things. It sort of reminds me of typing class and having paper taped over your hands, well, my hands, because. you're expected to not look at the keys OR the words you're typing but you're still expected to learn that little bit of offensiveness as if it's some art. I was simply mildly ofded. Doctors are allowed to look at what they do when operating. ld be expected

Saturday, February 7, 2015

I could go on. And on.

I get obsessive on repeating an idea in as many different ways as I can. Childhood training in being repeatedly asked, "what do you mean?" Or ignored altogether (which will bring me back to elaborating)about always had me dismissed... Unless anyone wants to read what I've already got handwritten, I will require a comment or 2 to do so.And I promise to not be a really evil sloth and write myself a comment to do it anyway. Altough I like. my own "work", I can see some seeing it to be redundant. I could where trillions of pairs of shoes. Check out that por spider that seemed to have eaten too much spaghetti on the freaky. That's; http://thef

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Website UNAVAILABLE? Then it's not my fault.

If anyone stumbles onto this blogsite, please keep in mind that I'm using a screen that's too small for me and that my autisticly hermit crab ways are do to circumstances that bounce the display in this stationary object. When I make lemonade I drink it. Surely everyone not deluded by imagined magical guidings has experienced "those days" where nothing seems to go as they'd have it. The alarm clock didn't go off, late for work, stuck in traffic, someone gets donut jelly on your nice tie, the boss is mad and yells at you (as I am now, I would not accept that and would yell right back) the copier broke as you used it, more yelling, you overheard false gossip about yourself, you get mugged of what's left in your pocket of what you'd worked hard for even though you forgot your wallet at home, you get pulled over by a cop that needs to make qouta, no license., it's in your wallet, you finally get home and the sleep alarm you know you'd set correctly the night before is buzzing as if it had gone off at the right time all along and is waiting on you! I ask myself many times if I ever had a good day. I've traumatically lost jobs for reasons I'm not responsible for, as I'm sure most people have and haven't been able to work because of poor circumstances for over 20 years. I keep ending up in out of the way squatables that I wouldn't be caught dead in, except I catch myself alive here. I'm a cynical pessimist by program, not choice. Sometimes laughter must be forced from oneself. Having read recently,things I'd heard for years, which really complicates things when you've got to watch your back around frowning psychos or the gigglers, what is genuine when you cannot be genuine for yourself. And what is being genuine when there's so much activity (which is positive) to resent? Faking a laugh sometimes leads to a real laugh. And sometimes you really just have to laugh even if your at a funeral or worse, listening to some horror while in the juror seat or your health really suffers if you don't. Genuine or not, you cannot get to the depth of yourself or it could make you horribly sick. So I chuckle now. This is no big thing. I'll be having fun any moment now. chuckle chuckle. How did I get here?

Saturday, January 31, 2015

My forgotten lore...

I hadn't felt such fear since my sleep paralysis days. Will/would it be easy to blog, to sign in the next day after signing out? I thought I had written all the important info down. But, I never saw an area for the password. How I missed that, I just don't know. Maybe I need to squint more? Well, there are my typical distractions, errors, connection failed... I had forgotten to play with myself in pretending to be having a good time, as the vague manual for this device suggested, along with, "have fun" I can still hear my frustrated grunts of disapproval.. The following was written with the "maybe" intention of submitting it elsewhere before stumbling onto my own blogsite that I'm still reading and trying to understand. It was the length of this that put me off even tho their comment sections did have some long comments. So these circumstances spring forth, complete with the possible spelling and punctuation errors I may be about to make. AND I USED THE SPACEBAR! NOT SPACEBAT! I am an introverted ex-cult child of the 1970's that's been told I rant and make no sense,among other of their compliments... So I AM an evil sloth,okay. So far so good, baby steps. I've seen a few strange things. I even have a witness for some. But what I want to talk about first, or write, are gremlins. I have a theory about why, in recent years I'm having much trouble with my technolgical devices and appliances that keep me from being able to do what others seem to find so easy, it seems. This is a years long experience. Tho I may have astigmatism, it'd not like I see anything more than those annoying darting shadows, not like seeing the top of what looked like a near pointy head taking two or three steps behind a travel trailer into the night shadows down the street, where the top of the head seemed to be taller than the roof of the trailer... It could have been a bigfoot for all I know. That's quite a height. for an average person to be seen past. And the fairy that I saw may have been a hallucination for what I consider typical reasons, mushroom spores from this swamp I'm momentarily stuck in or electromagnetic leakage from used and unused appliances... But yarn darning if I could've been published in a real live book last year and the year before on some short stories I wrote to be included into an anthology that seemed to prefer this horrible new way. of collecting their stories. Call me old fashioned for preferring.a functioning word processor and the post office. And yarn darning if I could just remember now what it was the editor called this submittance process. He told me to email my short story to his ipad. I did. My device said "message sent". And having studied as much of as little as my crossed wires encased in plastic would let me and like, of journalistic style manners such as not harrassing an editor as to whether or not he had received my short story, liked it and would use it, I waited anxiously until after the due date to receive no word on it until I gave in and asked a week later. He had never even received it... Around that time I was having trouble sending and receiving my own texts, emails, pictures, video. Messages of "Unsendable" and such or "sim initializing" ... Even looking it up, what does that even mean!?!There was plenty of memorythere came atme"INSUFFICIENT MEMORY"And it's hard to find most of tthe terms, symbols, icons I look up, things that should be IN THE MANUAL... IT gave me the knowledge that I'm not responcible for any faulty technology and that has it written, "explore and have fun," and then tells you , "you cannot do that", on options that are right there but somehow not to be used. Even customer service said that options weren't designed to be options! I've been writing and stuff for years in notebooks that are beginning to crowd me so I crowded myself even more drawing a comic about it and guess what, I can't even put it on a certain art website that I can no longer abuse myself of properly. I like reading manuals and understanding them. I read the terms and conditions and then do as others do, my own thing. If the server really is not connecting and I can't find my way out of deadzones, what am I to do? ? Lighting incense seems to help as it is a disperser of energy. Certain noises work and what I've already mentioned. And some days and functions never work. Heat and ash of incense is something for another page. I'm getting bothered this is getting to long when I could keep going, IF I COULD JUST SEE WHAT I'M TYPING! This is as bad as typing class and I just know there's gonna be nightmares coming to me of those good ole' school days. But back to the problem at hand. I've got a witness that saw something at the same time I did and we weren't really paying attention at first. To me, it looked like a coy? An invisible fish, like a steam fume swimming into a ball and rolling out of the television. It took me a moment after it steamed away, to process. Then I asked my fellow sloth, "did you see that?" To which my fellow sloth said, "I saw something." With emphasis on something. Most likely it was some harmless energy surge because nothing happened and we continue to watch this one working tv. Makes me wonder if it's all Buggs Bunny's fault when he wrestled with gremlins on that airplane. I saw that cartoon more than once as an "impressionable" child absorbing spongey matters into the subconscious dark. This is almost getting fun and I can't wait to write and post my next piece , where ever I go and however I get there.

Thursday, January 29, 2015


OH,MY BACK! This is so new to me. And thinking about it, how I got here was,I thought I'd try leaving a comment under something about Todd Sees at Sagesigma Unbound, I believe that was. I almost couldn't read that,the dark colors blended brightly in their darkness. So, somehow, that led to Blogger and I wasn't sure my comment was or would be posted until it was done. It felt like, "YOU CAN'T LEAVE A COMMENT UNTIL YOU DO THIS SOMETHING FIRST! DO IT! DO IT NOW!" It was a struggle to set up whatever might've been set up and then I tried to go back. Lately, I've been swiped off with unwanted "Updating". I had made a few comments on some Who Forted?blogs, forgetting the number 4 behind evilsloth and wondering only recently if it mattered. I figure, thars many John Smiths in the world and anonymity is my preferred objective with whatever I do. But sometimes being subtle is too vague. Yet I must not unleash my full foolish evil onto the world. Not yet,at least. And so, I went back to the blogspot to try to figure out how to use it. And... It was a struggle. Tiny keyboard for my slothful claw digits and a difficult way to view what I write, trying to correct mistakes as I made them and so many mistakes got and most likely get past me as my back began burning from the effort, straining to finish with the flimsy hope that I would not be cut off with "Updating" or worse. I had forgotten the little mishaps that happen less if I pretend to be in a good mood. Likewise, if I'm in a bad mood the technical mishaps are more frequent! GREMLINS!They got me again in trying to edit my "2015" I was positive was correct the first time, among punctuation and spelling errors. I had added a few sentences that did not get added. "Oh, I see so many mistakes that are so hard to correct on this... makes me really dislike writing but I've got to do it. It helped Hawkeye on MASH and it sort of helps me." It's bad enough that I'm technically challenged and have been told by many, "what do ya wanna learn that fer anyway?" So they could then say, "what're yew doin'with yer life, ya lazy no good evil sloth, you!" And all I can say is :P . "I'm not perfect and won't pretend it. I'm gonna have more fun not being a little zombie puppet, some day." And when that happens or when I accomplish.that, I'll be in my tree, probably still deciphering that 3rd party URL mystery, or whatever.


I had no idea I had a blogging account since July 2014! It's now near the end of January evil, sloth,gremlins,201 and traumas from last year alone are slowly loosening their brittle hold. Still recovering from 20 years of poor quality family programming... for the last 25 years or so, however old I am, doesn't BEAR thinking on, though flashbacks can't be stopped, unless you concentrate hard,which is how I try to think, never having been taught to do this, especially critically. And so I learn what I can, tho it be too slow for my liking. More solitude would be nice. A manual would be great! Even better, if I could really focus on thes e tiny letters... I've got so many notebooks of handwritten stuff on odd things and odder thoughts, I've. been told. I plan to post every day, deadzone permitting, or every other day as I learn the options given when they are allowed. In the meantime, I'm about to have company with another evil sloth that's not as evil as me. I've. got to get my alleged wits together and see if this goes through. WARNING: my future writing may get quite long winded.