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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?