THE HISTORY OF FINLAND

THE BIRTH TO THE INTROThis is a philosophy book going in depth about the tormented fragments of the tears that a laughing, the reflection in the shattered mirror, the visceral stepping steps on the escalator  Here is how truth made god and science have a baby.

INTRO

The Matrix is hands down on a piano playing congratulation music the best movie ever made. It took me for a loop then a doozy. It’s all about how perception is everything. Maybe the world is not how you think. FACT: The Matrix is real! Men, they lasso tornadoes and have sex with multiple “monogamous” lovers a day, build houses and artificial tree hearts for children made out of tree bark, then cover that tree up with dog bark. They also fight anything that looks them in the eyes. A tic is an animal, it’s also in a clock, and in a tic tac. What makes you tic? What makes me tic? A tic is the tac toc that does tic tricks. Spin your life answers on a sign, while hitchhiking to were you the sperm hit the egg. How is you? What is me? Now that’s geneTICS. Speak jive. Run a marathon. Your Dad is good at math, talk to him more. So when exploring the Matrix ballsack ask yourself what is gender? I once saw a male wearing a dress. He said something that almost made me take the noose off around his neck that was tied to my truck. He said “I’m straight!” Why was a breeder dressed as a faggot? Maybe I was out of the Matrix and all males are gender bending freaks. Sell your boat.

CHAPTER ONE

I’ve done a lot, slept in a city, slept in a woods, slept on the side of a moving bus. I’ve done drugs. I met a drug dealer who said “want drugs?” I was nervous, I said “which drugs?” He said “illegal drugs!” He gave me psychedelics. I took drugs. when I took drugs and got drugged out on the drugs, things were different. Trees looked different, I felt not the same. Water sounded like helicopters. I laughed for no reason and noticed things in a different way then before I drug used drugs. Colors were bright. I saw a telephone breath. It makes me ask the question, is reality real? What about is Christians are right. Dogs see different than us. I saw a start janitor on acid making noises like a truck backing up. Take my words and break the future.

CHAPTER ONE
I’ve had two lives because some rich girl gave me 400 dollars to take her birthday. Now I age double and she’s immortal. Let me tell you some of the problems having two birthdays, I’m have two horoscopes, I’m a Virgo and a cancer so I’m hard working and I’m lazy. You know what they say about Virgo cancer babies, that fetus growing out of your tailbone is going to start beaming lights out of the starfish growing from his palm. He’s going to join a flash parade to bring down the epileptics. As we all know epileptics run the media and banks. Then he will start the biggest reptile casket corporation. Your tail bone will evolve a tail to push him out of you life, but your tail will just become an ass leash to be controlled by the manifestation of your two birth dates mating, the stars that fucked in space once you took a someones birthdate. That’s not all that’s bad, you get two motherfucking death certificates now.you gotta write two wills. You were pro VirGo not supporting those stupid scorpions stealing, wearing baggy pants, and speaking snail. I was mad with Vigo power I gave cancer, cancer in my will. When my Virgo died and I was just the cancer casket selling fetues with cancer I tried to get my Virgo birthday from the birthday emporium. It was in a lighthouse squat. The punk had a code, anarchy rules! Which is an oxy moron. I said I wanted my birthday back they said, “fuck you white straight male in my eyes but white straight zi by my words you’ve got your privileges, take your starfish flashing hand and yor cancer ridden fetus to a horse show or antique car show.” I told them I’m punk, I punked up the punk, vomited on America, shot religion in the face, and became PC only talking about the injustices in a serious manner treating jokes like they were a negative thing unless it was slapstick or puns, I couldn’t even laugh if rape farted, genocide queefed, or child abuse peed on starvation while starvation put on a Mexican accent talking about rapes farts jumping the border of murder and stealing all the bags of genocides queefs I put in my mouth to hold in the laughter of child abuse. Then cancer killed off cancer and my will gave cancer to all non virgos. But those with no birthdays are perfect. Squat money dawg, you’re all adding to the machine with your spending. Me too. 
I party hard. Like I party so hard I wake up in a spiderweb and my sock are shitting human brains. Like a forest was there last night but now it’s just buildings, I get so drunk I become an architect. I built NYC man. I do coke with giant flies ya know. My pockets are full of pyramids dawg. It’s like a plane crashed in an ocean of my vomit.  Space got braces. 

I was a sea section baby born in Atlantis, not breast fed from my Mom Alactating from her Atlantits. I joined a band, but couldn’t tuna my bass bass. I always said thank you and you’re whalecome. I drank white gilltea before getting in the hard stuff. Seaweed was a gateway drug, started slinging 2seaB. I joined a gang of sea monkeys, every night we drank seal reserve while listening to DMSea, Ghost Face Krilla, and Krillex. We started off laying around on a counch couch, our mad man leader was seanile and seanihilism was alive. It was easy and covenient. We had to rob for splash cash, and I was paranoianoid of the lawkness mangster. Beat a fishbitch that gave us clamydia. We got octupussy and in gang fights with freshwater gangs getting beaver, fucking alligaytors. To get in the gang for real I had to rape the seamboloic lord Fishnu while aligning his sharkras. Like a Mantis Raypist. I didn’t want to turTell them I pelican’t do it, I sucam to pier pressure. I went to his mantra pRayer liar lair. I threw him at an angler where I could give him a shRimp job and anchor my haddick into his cAnal asssoul. The lord tyfool now hated humanatee. I dolfinnished on his face. We now were atop the water, he was a shipsifter. I hate to boats, but he morphed into gooey multi colors and tiedied on the sheep shore. I sacrafished his body for a trophy, harbored on land I went back underwater, the top of the ocean waved goodbye. I was scared and sad, there was hydrama in my prayers to Neptune. I met a mermaid from the Mertropolis. We sardined at a five starfish fEEL good restaurant. Then we went to an Oracle Orca, I looked into his crystal blue ball and saw me talking to me ex friends. They uped the shit, skin head nasea’s at the sea horsepital there to seesickness and pull the plug on the shellom life, it was shellfish of them. They wanted to get in a corral with me and my date. Neptune answered me when a narwhal impaled them shish kabob style. This Deus Ex Mammal saved the day. My clamunity acclamed me. The leader from Minnosota who was a abearracuta gave me accodlades. My life now had porpoise. 

CHAPTER TWOThe egg I hatched from was in Maine,  An egg appeared in the sky that shot lightning out of it’s anus, then hatched.  I fell out of that egg as a baby fifty feet from the sky and landed on a pile of flat worms fighting to see what gender they would be.  Penis fencing is a mating behavior engaged in by certain species of flatworm, such as Pseudobiceros hancockanus. Species which engage in the practice are hermaphroditic; each individual has both egg-producing ovaries and sperm-producing testes.

The flatworms “fence” using two-headed dagger-like penises which are pointed, and white in color. The mating ritual involves a violent battle during which two hermaphroditic flatworms attempt to pierce the skin of one another with one of their penises. The “winner” is the organism that inseminates the other; the winner becomes the father. The sperm is absorbed through pores in the skin, causing fertilization in the loser, who becomes the mother.  Even in the worm world women are losers I haven’t been back to my stomping grounds where I was queefed out of my mothers sea section for ten years, until now.  I grew up in the woods, it seems as if the woods have been gentrified, it’s now a segway forest.  Technology has moved in.  Little brains are hooked up to pods that looked like death chairs.  Even as I turn and look at the sheep shell by the sheep shore, I see sheep erupting their protective abodes.  They look dead inside probably because all the static plants have died off.  Static is an endagarde speicee  TV’s decline made this possible.  It still can be seen on youtube, or for a petophiles, youthtube.  I only wear static that’s why some think I’m an asshole and people for ethical treatment for random dot pattern.  Dot patterns have been known to skin people alive, and for kids in third world cuntrees that have eaten it, it has duplicated the child, then the inner child has sea sectioned itself out.

I used to take the tree to work.  The one in the middle of Los Angeles (where I live now), the ancient tree.  You climb to the middle of it, then it accents to the orb in the sky.  Everything turns white then I’m at work.  You know what I do for a job?  I’m all the fictional bugs underneath a drug addicts skin getting scratched at for ten dollars an hour!  Kind of underpaid, but hey gotta pay the bills man.  I do stand up comedy, make visual art, and films as well.   I’m a gerontophile.  I was lucky enough to have a relationship for two years with someone forty three years older than me.  I got to cum out of my shell by putting myself in that dick coffin.

I am only an old lady’s sexual plaything. They see my soulless shell and make me suck the cum out of them. The people that book me only see me as a side show and bruise my shell while I gargle nonsense like bleeding friday gills on chair pills, They laugh at the torture, I pull the nailed filled clubs out of all of my orifices, but since I’m garbage I only hear laughs and think the abuse is some performance ass Jackass type of thing as I’m being raffled off for my dick to be put into the next wrinkly woman society as deemed as being at an age so gross and pitiful all they can do is have some sex object to lube them up and pump them full of garbage cumming into there childless baring womb. But oh wait something in the garbage burrows into the 70 year olds snatch, it’s a garbage juice carcass with my eyes that c sections himself out of her throat. What a piece of white trash. I shouldn’t have fucked her while trashed, but I thought my stamina would go up. I just littered my litter. As a father settling down hiding out away from all the garbage men trying to hunt my son to turn into garbage coats. They are always trying to kill him, I feel down in the dumps about it. All the garbage men started to break in as we jump in the sewer and knocked out the guy who lived there and changes the stop lights. He was in love with the cross walk lady, who got fired for attributing Jesus, but making the cross walk out of cross’s. She and him are both too lonely scared to tell each other they love each other and will die alone. Not like my son.

I grew up in Maine with my mother, I wanted to live with my father but that wasn’t permitted by the courts.  I got treated better then my foster sibilings, I guess because I was the real deal.  My Dad spewed loads of hot cum into my mothers cold cunt.  Oh I can just taste that Oedipussy right on the taste buds.  I was always fully aware of my attraction to elderly women, I moved to New York City for a year.  It was too expensive.  I was even more naive and irresponsible then.  Even though I love my parents,  I would think like this,

ONE

Every Time I kill my baby making syrup with my hand I think I’m going to suck at everything involving talent and social interaction because of bullshit promises I made to god when I was young and believed in that shit.  Masturbation guilt is driving me insane, when I don’t do it I’m so horny all I can think about is fucking old women 24/7 and am cum on women too strong, I mean cum on me cum.  I went almost a year without jacking my honey lever once.  I hate having the baptshits.

TWO

I wish I wasn’t raised by poor religious rednecks that didn’t teach me how to spell words.  An OCD redneck shouldn’t have fucked a non working mentally abusing to foster kids redneck that used the word nigger (but Mainers don’t pronounce R’s so it doesn’t sound as bad.) too much just to flush a miscarriage down the toilet then pop out a baby who is an annoying retard ice money mutt who can’t do math, takes things too literal and can’t sleep at night.  I was always fucked up, as a child had I had recurring nightmare that a rocking chair with furry eyebrows and a large bass drum was chased me.  I was terrified of him and I though he lived in my ears.  FOR REAL!  I have the same morbid unwanted thoughts constantly!  But back to my semen, I’m only good at a few things why should I have to suck the universes bitter innards every time I yo-yo my dick and jizz all over my ego which beecums regret for days?  Fuck you poor white people for teaching me about a kike hating, atheist hating, aborted babies go to Hell for not accepting Jesus type O’ god.  CRACKERS!

THREE

I can’t eat certain types of foods sometimes or I’ll be punished in the future.  Cracks are for left feet walking over.  What’s a racial slur for birds in the middle east?  Owl Head!  And that’s where I grew up Owls Head Maine!  A small clitfart town named after a racial slur birds use.  Difference was not embraced or accepted.  I didn’t like points, I didn’t eat with knives, forks, wear collard t-shirts and felt uncomfortable with the portrayal of vampires who had pointy bangs, that’s why I didn’t like my aunt.  She had a vampire haircut.  Now I don’t like her cuz she’s a Jesus Freak who doesn’t like me for my beliefs.  Now that’s evolution, something she doesn’t believe in. My doctor didn’t know what the problem was, he called it a quirk.  WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF SCHOOL TEACHED DOCTORS TO PRESCRIB MENTAL DISORDERS AS QUIRKS?  Bi-polar should now be prescribed as foolish while they are misnaming shit.

FOUR

When I touch ham I almost throw up.  It’s a sign of torture.

ONE

My brain is fucked, and I am a shelf fish cunt because I don’t think anything matters except the drive to create art.  A walking bags of AIDS cold jack me off so hard my cum would fly out the window then a JAP would get arrest for doing a white face routine in Tokyo.  My guilt would force me to make a sword out of gravity then launch my head into space.  Then I would meet the pyramids building aliens that are keeping this human bacteria alive to use as space slaves once they can meta morph.  Most humans will be star field units.  I’m sure they’ll like my same old Amish Robot jokes I’ve used around every stranger to impress them because I’m socially awkward.  Then they’ll give me mad rubix twat and a dark matter statue of baby yoshi, their god, who is a reptilian.  They’ll feel bullshit guilt for oozing space amazon corn our of their gak library eyelids for self pleasure and mentally mass o kiss thier brains with razor lips.

TWO

Fuck my Dad for not getting shot by a gook in the war he fought for uncle sam, a fictional being.  Fuck my Mom for not getting an abortion. Or even better, wait until I’m popping out of the birth hole then wrapping our ambilical cords around my neck and drowning my in a pool of my own baby tears, then smashing my head in with a sledge hammer and using my blood as clit lube, to get off on destroying a fuckwads existence so my soul can be used for power a tree, or a boat made out of sneezes with a thick Mexican accent.

THREE

I guess my whole point is that rocking chairs have to rise up against horses.  They stole thier glory when making rocking horses, which are basically chairs.  People have to bet on rocking chairs racing at the tracks.

Horses have to rise up against bikes cuz tandem horses were around first.  Push those tandem bikes in to a unicycle makers shop.  He’ll make anything one wheeled.  He even turns glasses into monocles and camel humps in to breast cancer.

FOUR

Heroin, you were named horse before the animals show those fuckers you’re a man and give em’ all hepatitis B with your needull.

But thinking like that is all a part of growing isn’t it?

I couldn’t find shoes and once wore bedsheets for my feet, after a day in NYC they looked like they were covered in AIDS sap, escalator sawdust, the braille from a basetball, and god meat.  I walked down many street covered in gods corpses.  For I had been killing off the fear instilled in me being taught as a child if you do wrong things like murder, rape, be Buddhist, Muslim, Atheist, or a dirty Jew you are going to burn in Hell for eternity.

I once saw Satan tie a baby to a conveyer belt that let to a saw which cut the baby in half but would not die.  It should have been baptist, but it was born into a Krishna household.  The cult that makes you cut your hair and dress the same as others around you chanting nunsense for hours.  I was a missionary being sent to Hell, the first one, to clean it all up.  On earth I had to lead a life of dick sucking.  I had to faggot my way down the sawdust escalator to Hell.  I had so much cum pouring out of my skins that my skin had turned white.  Before I was a native American, black, transgendered burned crippled 9/11 victim with progeria.  So don’t get made later when I say no no words, because I don’t need to be PC with that backround.  I had all the PCness sucked out of me through sensitivity and equality.

I moved to Chicago after the year in NYC.  I lived with my friend Peter Breakfast, I met a man named Gunt there who is the most famous mumbler, going to all the mumbling fairs and summoning demons, exorcisming then through a parade of octopus alphabets.  These alphabets made up their own letters though, so only the languages could talk to each other which left the octopus speechless.  A marine biologist found this specie without words, he became the first mime.  But he did like the octopus did before the big dicktator convinced the last of evolved ones to leave the world by hiding in a suicide caccoon, he did use puppets to communicate.  Without the eight arms it wasn’t as complexes.  The other biologists thought maybe he was a retarded octopus at this point.  So they do what they like doing to retarded octopus, tying him to a lifeguard and throwing him in the sea of pilgrim genocide frequencies.  A pool life guard, not an ocean life guard.  Pool life guards got nothing on ocean life guards, but they are all jealous of the water park life guards.  Some say people that die on the freeway are lifeguards for the car pool lane watching over your cold breath that when hitting the window instantly tells you to break up with your dumb Medusa girlfriend, all those snakes are evolving growing arms and legs, like god started to before his heroin addiction, she will have so many incestual reptilians to sexually please her oedipussy making her clam so wet it evaporates so quickly it’s as dry as sand whenever she wants.  With the death of a marine biologist on a mumblers hands, he must learn how to do American Sign Language to turn hide those mumbling deaths ever second a cop is around a color.  He saw cops in his coffee cup, and cops under his rugs.  They could catch his ingin hands red handed, his hands had his finger prints on them.  There was not hiding it.  Unless he could frame the alphabets alphabet on it.  So he took off his finger prints and glued them to the humming of sound that created language, and he put some cool water park life guards finger prints on so he could get a job.  Maybe he’ll next level it and replace the water with dirt.

CHAPTER THREE

This guide funded my life for the next four years, it got bought by many bank robbers,

When God created earth, the second thing he put on it (the first being dinosaurs) was a bank. Because the dinosaurs were far too big and lacked the intelligence to run a bank, God created man.
Bank robbing first began in http://www.3,000,000,000.org B.C. when cavemen would rob banks. They used clubs fashioned from eggplant toenails stuck together with Elmer’s glue (Before the birth of Jesus Elmer’s glue was made from 100% mammoth blood). Cavemen junkies were often motivated to rob banks so they could purchase penicillin from the local pharmacist. They’d keep their money in trees with locks made from pterodactyl beaks. As is very obvious, man has made many advancements in bank robbing stoppery.
The Greeks showed some of these advancements, offering philosophy and alarms to the bank robbing world. Socrates was hired by Fleet bank (a pioneer of bank robber stoppers) to train these alarms. A very famous quote of his was, “If you steal money, one then has no money. To truly own money you must be the poorest of the poor.” Fleet bank was the first to hire human alarms who would be duct tapped to the corners of the ceiling when the banks opened. They would then have a wonderful view of all the registers, and shout whenever someone came in with a spear. They believed thoroughly the Greek god of money, Taianosis. They saw the god of bank robbery and hail, Jack, their ultimate evil.
In the year 1492 Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean, and destroyed the Native American banking process. The Native Americans robbed banks, but this did nothing for the individuals. They shared everything and considered bank robbing a pastime for children. Columbus is notorious for introducing European bank robbers to the Americas. European bank robbers (or “Cowboys”) would act very seriously, and thus destroy the fun nature of bank robbing. This new serious type of bank robbing gave way to a new order in which violence and greed reined supreme.
There is a well known story among bank robbers that the Salem witch trials all started when two daughters, who were both twelve year old twins to each other, called a band of seven bank robbers witches. The seven bank robbers, who robbed banks frequently, were burned at the stake and died from severe burns.
In 1931 man succeeded in creating the television screen (a vacuum tube which projects electrons onto a clear glass siding to form a picture) surveillance camera (A small device using many sets of mirrors and a human eyeball to send Morse code through a wire) and a red light (a tiny bag of fluorescent blood used only for decoration). These three innovations made a bank robber’s job much more difficult. The Bank robbers union went on strike demanding that the security cameras be taken down. Members of the union would stand outside the banks and protest. Because banks were not being robbed, much less money was being used to feed the economy. The American government panicked and stopped sending money to the banks altogether. This started what was known as “The Great Depression.”
Very shitty music for elevator faggots played in banks across America in 1982.
Today bank robbing is one of the hardest professions in history. With combinations for locks, lasers, the real Robocop, alarm buttons, and nametags, it seems the world has no mercy upon bank robbers. The most harmful thing for bank robbers was the elimination of the smoking section. Early bank robbers would smoke in a bank until the smoke became so thick it was opaque. They would then use this as cover and not be caught until the cashier told someone, and by then they were miles away.
This book has been published as a guide for bank robbers. It is a collective effort to let the world know that bank robbing is not only a crime, it’s a profession.

Chapter 1: getting started
So you’ve decided to be in the profession of bank robbing. The first thing to keep in mind is your overall attitude. It is recommended that you act like a very rich white man who doesn’t even need to be in a bank anyway. If you’re unfortunate enough to have black skin, you should either stop reading now (because the cops are already onto you) or bleach your skin. You should constantly be thinking, “I am not a bank robber. I am a hip person and I don’t steal.” Do not let this get in the way of your real thoughts. Even the authors themselves have been victims of this. They walked up to the cashier, made a regular transaction, and left the bank without even remembering. While in a bank it is important to “keep your cool.” You should never shout anything along the lines of, “I hope I don’t get caught in the process of robbing this bank!”
Some bank robbers feel more at ease after molesting a small child. You should try this tactic, and if it works GREAT! You’re on the right track.
Before attempting to rob a bank it is important to practice every step at home. First, start with the proper breathing techniques. Use your recepticular muscles to flex your fraculus glands. This will open the valve to your cardiovascular depository mammogram. After regaining consciousness you should end up in Mexico with at least a million dollars. If not, get up and actually rob a bank.
The next technique to develop is movement. Just walk normally, you retard. (The authors would like to apologize in case you do not have a mental deficiency. The authors are assuming that all readers of this book are actually mentally retarded)
A very important skill, that is recommended that you learn last, is improvisation. For instance, one time the authors left the sacks of money and the guns behind, but they didn’t lose their “cool factor.” They re-entered the bank with their ski masks still on and waited in line like two normal customers. They asked the teller nicely for the bags and the weapons, claiming that they were normal customers just walking in after a bank robbery. The authors’ acting was so wonderful, the tellers believed them and gave their belongings back. Mind you, this takes billions of years of practice and should not be attempted by amateurs or people with computer printers full of toothpaste for legs.
One of the great underground pioneers of getting started was also a professional drunk forklift operator. His name was Dillon Pants. His family grew up poor, and often were forced to eat dirt for every meal. On rare occasions (such as Christmas (a.k.a. December 25th (a.k.a. Jesus’ birth (a.k.a. Christmas)))) they would eat free daily newspapers. His father couldn’t work because he was too busy getting drunk, and his mother was turned into a windowsill by a witch shortly after Dillon’s birth. At the age of three months Dillon pants was already robbing banks to support his family.
In his teenage years, Dillon Pants created and perfected the frog technique. He was walking home from turning on funny looking lamps 101 when he spotted a frog approximately the size of an air conditioner. He stole it from Mother Nature’s grasp, and the next day he was employing it in Bank robbing. He let the frog go inside the bank and waited. After twenty minutes the frog started hopping around, sometimes reaching forty feet in a single bound. The employees chased the frog around at the exact time that the security guards got an order from the president to open fire on the source of the menace. Needless to say, it was a massacre, and by the time it was cleaned up, Dillon Pants had made off with over seven dollars.
However, his life was not without faults. “Justice” prevailed, and now as his punishment the writers for Hollywood Squares are paid by the government to poke fun at his life.

Planning
In addition to using this book as a reference for all things bank robbing, there are also local bank robber gatherings. At midnight, burglars of all kinds come together to share tales of thievery. The most common stories are those of ghost bank robbers, but feel free to gather insider information, or ask questions. Call your congressman to find out the details.
Double check that your safe-house is not a police station.

Step by step process

Step 1: Wake up early, get dressed (in your normal clothes. Bank robbing clothes come later), brush and floss your teeth, and put on a healthy amount of deodorant. Many bank robbers attempt to go to the bathroom, even if they think they don’t need to. You must keep in mind that your robbing may be longer than planned. Next attempt step 2.

Step 2: Make sure you exist. Try looking in a mirror. If nothing shows up, you probably wouldn’t need money anyway because you are a ghost. Also try resting your hand on your torso. If it goes through, you’re a ghost.

Step 3: Buy a Will Smith CD to listen to on the way.

Step 4: Get in your normal car (not your get away car) and go buy a gun, wiffle bat, or a tree branch. We suggest a gun though, because it is the most sufficient. Also, we suggest buying bank robbing clothes (In the bank robbing clothes section of Wal Mart) and purchasing a bullet-proof vest. If you are “strapped for cash” we recommend kidnapping a small minority and strapping him/her to your torso. (Sometimes the professionals use no weapons at all. We do not recommend this for your first bank robbery. You’ll need a gun, mask, and a backpack full of courage.)

Step 5: If you’re working in a group call your buddies and go over your roles. (If you’re working alone, start crying immediately. Someone so lonely doesn’t deserve to rob banks. Go get a job you fat loser.) Then go to the car lot and buy a getaway car. Remember, don’t drink and drive, it’s against the law.

Step 6: Gear up! Get in your bank robbing clothes (preferably black). Get a jar out with a rainbow in it, and release it for good luck. Get all of you bank robbing tools out and put them on a table, then put them in a black duffle bag. If you have OCD you will take them out then put them in, then take them out, then put them in, then take them out, then put them in, take them out then put them in, then take them out, then put them in, then take them out, then put them in, etc. This will go on until you feel comfortable to rob the bank… rob the bank… rob the bank… sorry I was just making fun of you OCD freaks. You freaks! You should all die in a fire. If you’re a grill with OCD that doesn’t make any sense, because grills don’t have brains, you idiot.

Step 7: Rob the bank, you nincompoop! When you first enter do not tell anyone you are planning to rob the bank. Just wait in line and fill a withdrawal sheet for a non-existent bank account. This is to fool people and dogs who are watching. The next step is to get in line and wait your turn. When you arrive at the terminal, put your mask on over your face (preferably) and kindly ask to make a withdrawal. This is when you remove your musket. Aim it at the employee’s face. At this point, you could make the cashier do whatever you want, but this book is about bank robbing. Ask for them to put the money in a series of large tan sacks with big green dollar signs on them.

Step 8: The getaway car should be very close to the bank’s exit. For your first bank robbery it would be wise to park the getaway car inside the bank. There is a common tale among bank robbers and albino black bear talent scouts of Billy Kangaroo. Billy’s mistake was having the getaway car parked in a tree in an entirely different state. And in addition to this, the car was made out of thousands of cereal boxes.

Step 9: Lay low. Go to your safe-house ASAPAX. Do not show any police officers your big tan sacks. Do not make large deposits, especially through the bank you just robbed. Stay away from giving your money to the poor. Those assholes didn’t rob the bank! In addition, it is wise to refrain from having sexual intercourse with Gwen Stafani. This has nothing to do with laying low. It’s merely a precaution.

Step 10: Do not play any Smashmouth, Gwen Stafani, or Howie Day while your money is within earshot. Listening to Smashmouth is very dangerous, because when playing Smashmouth, money has been known to disappear from the tan sacks, and reappear back in the vault inexplicably. Bank robbing scientists have found that the combination of popularity, terrible singing, and overall extreme shittyness, scares the money back to where it came from. Money, in a lot of ways, is like turtles. They are both green, they both retreat to their homes when scared, and they both hate Smashmouth, newer Gwen Stafani music, and think Howie Day is a dickface.

CHAPTER FOUR

I was making dough, off my dough, because each copy of

“So You Want To Rob A Bank?” was printed on pizzas, and oh the pizzas won’t stop screaming.  During this phase Gunt and Peter were working in a shape emporium, everyone else working there was a tear drop.  They sold bags of shapes, they didn’t use paper as currency, just baseball players head aches.  I thought I might buy a swarm of my past, but didn’t, I just told bad jokes about peanut stands, brochures about the brochure rack you got them from, and shock value jokes about race, and my stepfather who was dying of cancer.  Now that cancer face is dead.  So only my living family member can be horrified at the cancerous jokes I spew that die in the air loosing all their weight, and releasing tears, tears that might get a shape selling gig. he wouldn’t let my dog sleep on the bed of the couch because she shed, so when he started shedding I forced him to do the same, just as the jokes diminishing shedding, they have to sleep on the floor next to his (at the time dying) body and dog.

Then I ate an alien in the form of a fungi.  It made me think differently forever, I started making art after that.  I would eat these aliens regularly whenever I could.  Then I found chemically made aliens, and cactus aliens.  I didn’t find those until I moved to Los Angeles. I lived in warehouses, had a bad realashionshit that was mentally abusive on both ends, then started seeing the a sixty six year old woman when I was twenty three.  I traveled for a bit and saw lots of dirty white kids throwing shows in warehouses.  They were split up in two gangs.  The dirt kids, and the clean scene.  It’s not cool to be clean man.  Train hoppers hate it.  They don’t even have dogs anymore, just boxes of dirt that jump up and down barking.  The apartheid began while we a’partied.  While once when a two minute old kid was drinking water instead of rotten milk mixed with malt liquor, and mud a crust punk came up to him, opened his mouth and so much noise came out that the babies head exploded.  A performance art group took all of the baby meat to construct an effigy of the ego to destroy.  The gaza strip of DIY artist hath begun.  I was in the middle of it, not only that all lived in illegal places and had to watch out for city inspectors.

I got out of that mess, lived in Los Angles for five years than it all began, the real deal, done with bullshitting you asswipes!  That’s right you’re an asswhipe!  You wipe your ass with sheep shells, that’s right you wipe your ass with space, you have a whole pocket full of space right now!

CHAPTER FIVE

Suppress emotions.  Climb an explosion, bench press a cave, ware veal sunglasses and an espresso back pack.  Dance to aderniline boom box boats.  The boat is made out of a Mexican accent.  I have to be manly for my current job.  I’m a scubadiver at orphan smasher, swimming in black volcano bladders until I hear the bell ring to smash the unwanted. A galloping doomsday catching up to the tardy abortions. I was born out of a sheep shell by the sheep shore in an external dumpster breaking prayer fossils. I was hired by a pharaoh phantom. The blood gurgling shock brings a deception foundation
to the minds of who matter and are included in society. Foster children don’t have souls the killing of one of these pathetic cunts is more moral then stepping on a blade of grass, I get the justice blade and cut them up to use as fertilizer for grass, it’s the skies eyes shaman shame that a sperm fertilized these annihilation cries. An Armageddon of miscarriages will be miss cared for. The fundamental executioner foams nectar, groaning at the pleasure of removing trash with thoughts. A magnetic sponge for this personal predator picks mistakes from the neon dessert garden as a surgeon beggar, begging to pull the plug on life because of a lazy man who couldn’t put rubber around his honey lever so had spewed his seed into a woman who needed to fuck so bad she couldn’t wait for flower shield. I am the famous mumbler with a demon accent good at standing in a corner acting like I don’t need to socialize but the mud mouth attracts harsh vibes, my facade covered by a mask of dead baby fetus I raped and sealed together with my semen.

I woke up in a hospital covered in blood.  I saw doctors with missing limbs walking towards me wanting to sew my brain back in.  I don’t remember what happened?  The doctors came at me with hack saws.  I was scared.  The doctors were women!  I knew that wasn’t a job a woman could handle.  I blinked my eyes just to make sure I wasn’t in a makeup factory, a crying center, a vacuum emporium or even a human punching bag palace.  I ran towards the window.  I realized that it was a date on the calendar said 4014  and if I was on earth it was fucked up because the land was dark and baron outside of the gravity and oxygen filled center.  Still I thought maybe someone dropped me off in Finland or some place full of shitbags vomiting gallons of booze.  I saw these eight eyed ribcages flying around, then I thought fucking for sure this was Finland.

I started to remember the good old days back on earth (not Finland).  When learning on how to be a man so I could be an orphan smasher, I cried, my yoga teacher said man up don’t be gay I said but my brother died of breast cancer, he said breast cancer that’s chick shit. Then as I was meditating I felt thought I was on top of two monster trucks fucking I heard my yoga teacher say guys beat those tear ducks until the shit blood eggs hatching yourself crying power. Women meditate on peace then sweep it up, cuz it’s about to get in a fight with a manicure the cure to make you a man I felt my heart chakra open up and all my fist cumming out of my paciFIST ready to bat the war hippie that wants to fight the government I am the governments weapon the free will barrel full of guns hippie, we are our own prison, our own messiah free your nuclear mind see the whore known as the sky open it’s legs birthing the abortion of the year holding a brail covered basketball, see the eight eyed diamond ribcage that can’t speak English or go back to where you came from.  I guess that’s why my yoga teacher hates immigrants and people speaking static.  To keep it alive, being activist on how to keep static not wiped off the earth.

I yelled at a mouth flying past me the mirrors that were being held by the balloon humanoids and saw that I have not aged, I was completely confused on how I ended up here.  The mouth told me earth had been killed off by humans many years ago and I was on a planet in a reality far from earth.  I asked for the name of the planet.  It was called Finland.

The mouth brought me to his clock that he lived in, he sat me down on meaningless dumb time.  I listened to his story on how I arrived at that hospital.  It took what dumb time might say hundreds of frustrating years to understand him.  It was a coincidence that everyone on Finland spoke English, what was frustrating was the English words when translated mean completely different things.  Now I will tell you his story and the translation of his story.

CHAPTER SIX

MOUTH

Obey sky-fi, the skiing frog feather.  He has hostages in his cavity, ready to shoot ghetto mutations at.

TRANSLATION

The memories of you being an orphan smasher with the dreams of becoming a star surfer were all planted into you.  You had to believe you were still on earth but a freak accident happened in the hospital you woke up in.

MOUTH

Boxes of reality distortion were transported by echo refuges.  Flying over canyon after canyon.  Daydream demolition teams were hired to demolish your day dreams taking up too much space in the dream world.  You filthy mic, you stupid wop.  Put down the gun Jean and put it to this towel heads head, because your heading into trouble head on collision mother fucking tea cup consumer.

TRANSLATION

During earth drought you sailed with a team to the fountain of fountains.  You sailed through a cannibalistic island and got caught, selling children’s genitals to the moth that vibrates history as a musical instrument.  You got ordered to get your head cut off because of your genital selling.  Your took off your head, then you took off a pheasants head, and switched your heads.  They thought he was you and beheaded him.  Fuck dude that was shitty of you dawg.

MOUTH

A cave witch diarrheaed a diary crushed a bacteria planets full of opulence, how hath such class wars been decided before the gargoyle erupt from the walrus heart.

TRANSLATION

You made it to the fountain of fountains, but your ego decide to sacrifice yourself, while you let all the other dehydrated you let your ovaries burn on another plane.  That plane got crashed into by two towers flying at it.  9/11 was an inside job, inside your twat Americunt.  Your own government flew Pearl Harbor through the two towers.

MOUTH

Delete sharks from the ocean to find moonbeam balls to be dunked through the gold jacknife codes opening a portal to your own narrative.  Then you discover mutated conversation leading to god, rape gods heart semen will rain on all.

TRANSLATION

You were brought here to study what a human is, but the hospital got all fucked up, they only hired women so of cores when patients were dying they’d just talk to their girlfriends on the phone, and if someone needed heart surgery they would just put lipstick on the lips heart, so the heart could kiss the world full of hugs.  Now you’re stuck here whitey.

Then I realized I had a bag of past I had bought from the man in Chicago, sitting in my bag the whole time I lived in Los Angeles.  In Los Angeles I got too drunk every night, made some connections, did lots of comedy about things like the difference between shadows made out of blood and people bleeding numbers out of their left eye, things about having two birthday, and whatenot.  I grew close to friends in a warehouse that let me sleep on their couch, being a filthy bottom feeding fuck from the system surviving off food stamps and art.  I lived with a toy maker and another bottom feeder who I made ample art with.  He played noise.  I met a fifty year old photographer that I started to have sex with all the time.  We did the monogamy thing even though it went against every instinct that was put into human.  Restriction makes you a good person in society.  Want to hear a funny one liner?  Something I didn’t write, a quote?  It’s fucking funny as shit.  Someone said I’m an asshole because I don’t abide by social contract!  Someone living on this land where the original inhabitants were genocidead, built by slaves, using everything we have talk and type on by modern slaves until they starve because they lost their hand then can’t make an American flag for a gas station in Indiana, we are living in relationships and friendships that are based on what teachers, family member, and media has ingrained in us, but it’s assholy to break social norms through jokes, knifes, nudity, ect.  Really fucking good.  I have got comedians to hate me by using vomit on stage, drinking piss, and using racial epitaphs.  They are uptight as an ants third eye asshole, compared to performance artist that have been doing everything!  I mean at least people started to discover different mediums within comedy, sketch, improv, stand up, solo shows, film, and within those different genres of comedy, satire, dark comedy, blue humor, character comedy, surreal comedy, mockumentary style, one liners, parody, ect. ect. ect. ect. ect. ect.  But we have been conditioned since kids to learn that humor, to make a joke about something, is to belittle it.  I think jokes can be made because of sensitivity.  It seems that people get mad over a joke easier than film or music dealing with certain subjects.

I think it’s ridiculous to think you’ve had to suffer a disease or had a loved one die from cancer or AIDS to make jokes about it, that you have to belong to a certain race to make jokes about that race, to be a cripple, or a blind, to have been raped, well my uncle died of diabetes, do you know what that tragedy was like? Dead Syrians arne’t a joking matter. Don’t say that about homosexuals breeder! If we were limited to only think about, make social commentary, and joke about the limited worldview you as an individual has gone through, experienced, it seems very ego driven and that you aren’t thinking about most problems in the world. It would seem to me that you don’t care about the awful truths and injustices of the world if they aren’t on your mind ever and your never talk about them. That you just think about your job, you’re childhood physical abuse, and your sex life. All about the self instead of the you’re struggling humans that can’t eat, or think societies beauty standards are correct. Someone not taking risk that someone might not understand your sensitives and take it as a negative thing. Someone who might not see your double entendres that are actual peace driven. It’s just boring to not talk about the worlds problems.

I also had fun making people think I’m retarded going to parties dressed only in a diaper and getting people to help me tie my shoes, to flash cops my penis, I stabbed myself with a knife as a joke once.  I lived with that photographer artist for a year, but we were both crazy so we had to live apart.  I was juvenile with my emotions like a,

poop moon pooping into a poop sun.

Poopmoon is my name when I play chess.
I heard swarms of past were synthesized in a lab were bulimic calendars were held captive.
So I was hear at a mouths house and I figure why not release a swarm of past?  See what happens if I do so.  So I released a swarm of past from the jar I had forgot about oh so long ago.

Then I saw myself in an art gallery it was dumb as brain tumor parade.  I felt like a diseased lollypop looking at a painting that had bush painted with a Hitler mustache.  I saw a painting with a square painted on a canvass in the gallery.  The square said, “I’m the additional element. My home is the blank spaces between words, the brains vacation full of so much hail, and snow you can’t see anything in this brain storm.”  I responded to the square, this object is meaningless, the ideas of conciseness are worthless. This is a supremacy of pure feeling.  Like my supreme skin color. But on a serious refined tone, looks to be influences by cubism.
The square responded, “You’re calling me worthless? I’m a movement.” More like a bowel movement.  “You’re speech is abstract just as my existence.  I ask through expression by denying reality how to internalize…”  Yeah at least I’m not a square, square!  I then looked at paintings by Salvidor Doggie, Jackson Pawlick, Barksquat, and his friend Andy Woofhall.  Then I saw a painting, a catastrophy of shitty cattitude, by Meowna!

I saw me looking at a canvass that had the word nigger painted in it.  I thought it was weird to see such a powerful word shackled inside of a shitty piece of art.  But the word rose up, broke free, got loose and started to run for the hills then a conservative racist nigger lover caught the word to keep.  He’ll wipe it out at a party and call talk about free speech when he releases it.

Then I said to my past self, hey I have some past left if you want to do some past, then he grabbed for past flying around and took it.  Then I was hanging out with twenty two year self and ten year old self.  We talked about the advances of every stage of life, and the certain types of creativity you can hold on to, for how long, then when transformed how you loose certain parts of your creativity that you want back, but you can’t you murdered it like snail in a flytrap tongue of a sexless todum pole.  We drank the gin from imGination to see this todumb pole.

He said to us, “I’ve seen a wise one turn a raindeerstick upsidown, it rained raindeer that galloped throughout harmony, and reined the evil sadist into thought to acquaint the negative feelings towards stepping on every blade of grass.  You can only get to know someone for so long we are running out of things to say, but my graveyard of living loved ones can’t hold many more body bags, The body bag hand puppets make angels laugh.  Hieroglyphics are the divine word, they are logos, gods get drunk on Four Logos.

Balancing self torture for others, release the malitive cocktail of bottled emotions shatter others and cut yourself, you are a masochistic effigy.

We are a bi product self awareness, we are an open wound.”

Three Trenton’s hanging out together did manage to make a butterfly effect, the butterfly flew backwards which changed my life.  One life in one time frame I grew up in Tokyo.  I had a turtle keychain, everyone I know had committed suicide around me, I was ready to go to a job interview, I went to one, this is how it went.

(Knock on a door.)

JOSEPH

Hello, step into my office.

TRENTON

I’m Trenton. How are you doing sir?

JOSEPH

Just got back from a weekend vacation with the wife, we went to hair camp, but it was controlled by a beehive that made us slaves forced to give cats the heimlich maneuver to cats until they cough up hair balls to use as wigs for the bees.

TRENTON

Guess I won’t be going to hair camp. (They both chuckle.)

JOSEPH

I’ll break the ice cuz, I’m cool and it’s ice to meat you. The first job I wanted to do was be a physic, but my crystal ball only played flashbacks. What was the first job you wanted?

TRENTON

I wanted to be a cloud so I could control lightning, (Dagger chuckles.) but of course that is silly. When I was eight I wanted to be a taxidermist.

JOSEPH

Odd.

TRENTON

I never wanted my pets to die, I love animals.

JOSEPH

It says here you were a plastic surgeon.

TRENTON

Kind of in the line of taxidermy, making body to sculpture. I had many clients such as mummies, effigies, voodoo dolls and sculptures.

JOSEPH

Did you costumers like you?

TRENTON

One of them was actually a masochistic voodoo doll of myself.

JOSEPH

So he paid for your plastic surgery!

TRENTON

Exactly. (Chuckles.)

JOSEPH

Lucky!

TRENTON

No he who stabbed himself nightmare bacteria and fish beaks. He lived in a fullscreen movie, when it transfered to widescreen his head got cut off, which decapitated ME, I was just a floating head for a year.

JOSEPH

Is that why you have an unemployment gap?

TRENTON

My mother was sick, she lived alone in a beehive in a yellow jacke “hood.” She died of sever coughs. After that while ahead as a head, I worked at the suicide hotline, many suicidal phones called. People couldn’t use thier phones, until I could talk them out of it.

JOSEPH

I see you got fired from that job.

TRENTON

Yeah a homeless cough with no lung abode to reside in possesed the phone, yelled at me for evicting him from my mothers lungs, then shot himself. He died to the death.

JOSEPH

Crazy costumer (both chuckle) I can relate before I settled down getting a wife and obedient kids fetching me the newspaper while we eat cop on the cob, the newspaper starts screaming about terrorists, I used to live on the edge with jobs like this, I used to live in the sewers controlling the stoplights. My skin was made of rats, I loved the crosswalk lady, she loved me. We both died alone too scared to talk to each other.

TRENTON

I once had your life. I was a rich guy that bragged about my table full of money, a girl liked me, but thought I was fat. I got liposuction, all that came out of me was money, I busted open and found out I was a safe for Chase Bank, then I took of on train tracks, because I am a train…I’m just kidding I’m a bus.

(Joseph laughs.)

JOSEPH

You got me!

TRENTON

I was very rich, I moved to a new town called A New Town. I had a top hate a monocle poodle, in fact my poodle had a top hate a monocle poodle. I felt as though I were a POOdull. I needed the edge. That’s why I became an orphan smasher at scuba diver, swimming in the black waters waiting to hear the bell to rise up and smash the unwanted. (Now has sunglasses on and is lifting a small weight) I also kept foster kids out of the cool barbaque, too uncool to get rejected from your parents you can’t come to this BBQ. We grill up laptop computers, skyscrapper meat, Berlin Wall, we’re cooking up attitude. We swim through rocks, break through the earths crust flip the hustle, land on a diving board then we’re back at the barbeque.

JOSEPH

Why do you want this job?

TRENTON

I’m sick of being a lonely poor artist of death. It’s either this job or I’ll kill myself, to the death.

JOSEPH

Are you prepared fro marriage, rigid social constraints, and instilling your kids with meaningless religious and traditional moral?

TRENTON

Of corps I am, it’s the ultimate death retirement comfort. And for money I’ll just do this right?

JOSEPH

Yes you will be me, on Sundays for extra cash you pop out of a koo koo klock and refill the vending machines with slot machines. Congratulations, you got the job.

TRENTON

YES!

JOSEPH

Are you ready to be me?

(Trenton and Joseph suddenly are in the opposite seats they were just in, indicating they have switched who they are, they voices switch as well.)

TRENTON

I’ve got to ride my angel to the shopping mall to pick up a bag of facebook statues updates and get food for my scapegoat, he’s up to a bunch of monkey business, he’s a busy beaver with moral as blind as a bat, he’s a big fish in a small pond, I’d love him if he didn’t take so many cat naps, enjoy being me rat bastard.

(Trenton leaves there is silence for a bit, then Joseph pulls out a gun and shoots himself. Blasting out of his head hitting the wall then floor you see a bloody fish with a beak then hear a whisper say the orphan souls have been freed.)

Back to this time, I left the mouths house to find an arcade in an envelope so I could play games while traveling at the same time.  I found an arcade, not knowing anything about Finland I was excited to see where the mail man was taking me.  I played a games like, candy slave picking cotton candy, teargas the farts of tears being used to attack tear drop tattoos, and or cores ego autopsy.  A group broke into the arcade, they ran past the redneck that shot a pacman machine saying “I’m going to grill up all the dots a fella can eat.”  They ran past a man talking about his cheap rent in a pinball machine, cheap because of the danger of getting killed by a pinball.  They were after me, the only human in Finland.  They shot spider webs towards me, but luckily a group of tree ghost flew by and got caught in the web.  I ran out the exit, crawled up the envelope then jumped onto the top of a flying eye.  I thought it was stupid that he was wearing a wig.  I was near a castle made of grease and the bones of censorship.  I told that cyclopes to fly into that castle and met someone by the name of Breakfast.  He let me in and knew about my situation being the only human here.  He was just a hand with eyes and a mouth working hard as a day laborer, doing all that he can anyone that would hire him for hand jobs.  He held a human heart in his the palm of his being.  It opened up there was a key in it.  That key lead to the 8th day inbetween Saturday and Sunday.  He told me that I could have to hide there because everyone wanted to ware me, to have my hide.  Adult humans are 50-65% water.  The drought got worse and worse, so bad water started seeping out of human bodies, that’s why everyone here is shriveled down to just a body part.

He have me the key to the eight day.  He showed me where to go, it was in the sewers, there was man made of rats who controlled the stop lights in the sewer.  He was having a conversation with his reflection and his shadow.  He was in love with the crosswalk lady, she was in love with him too, but they were both too scared to tell each other they loved each other so they would both die alone.  She decorated the crosswalk when Christmas was near, she made the cross walk made of crosses.  People got enraged, like they were double crossed.  They angry to a superfluous extent, ya know, they got furious, they got irate, fuming, outraged, vexed.  She got fired for this reason.  Not me I celebrate holiday day, get all of the holidays done at once, jacklaterns hanging from Christmas trees, giving out Valentine day cards, celebrating all of each others birthdays at the party, and presidents current and past.

As I slipped into the sewer to go into hiding into the eighth day, the hand to me there’s something I need to underst-hand before I leave, something I need to take with me, words to put in my memory to use in a tricky situation on rainy day, in the center of a storm.  These were the last words I heard from this hand,

“The grand elf sat silently with the serpent alien who deep throats the gold apple of Adams scrotum pole by ways of the terrestrial bitch who hid the eye of the pyramids in her cunts asshole.  His linguist comes from planets now visible to us on start DMT.  They’re coexisting on a plane colliding with the two towers of Babel.  The anarcho pacifist build the totem pole of ethnically cleansed faces verbally combating each other as a comedy for the elf and the other higher powers, like psychedelics it was moral slapstick.  So martian luther king who united the jail people with the banks nest selling farts to a handkerchief while hands stop money shots for the tomatoes wearing police hats are masochistic effigies for dizzy doorknob makers.  The infinity sign is boobs lactating shit as the ouroboros shits in his mouth.  Planet earth had it’s history lesson.  It faced the futile facts of space rape.  One knows all you have to do is have consensual sex with rape, then rape dies.  Earth was unaware.  The alien race rape of it’s resources popping premortal pussy pimples from pain to pleasure,  UFO pierce your assmosphere queefing premature sextraterrestrial euthanize primitive primates and the violent vagabonds. There’s a right and a wrong, and you will feel kind of grey.  Dope ropes, come on earth, I’m down to earth, more like up inside you earth, in your inner womb tomb, in the Sphinx sphinxcter in your sandtastic snatch hatch.  I saw mother nature and branched out to have a treesome.  Monsanta spread it’s seeds to all other holidays, Christmas Halloween, Christmas Thanksgiving, Christmas Valentines Day, Christmas Passover.  Earth got my text, during the time text was at war with email.  I want to see 420 strip 9/11 onto a 666 69ing a catch 22 dressed to the 9 covered in a goopy number 2.  We have swamp wompom from swamp monsters with time shares into your wet dreams.  This sexstasy euphoric dream drop hot tropics getting me wet, now I’m a sweatback eating out your equator vertically learn to take it earth your reverse gravitationally pollution littering our uterus universe enraging our radio active red rockets, ready to reap your naivety negatively vs. your positivity.  All the realistic mystic can make a mistake earthquake sinnfinity in your sinocide, suggested your dead deaf under a living catacomb of corpses, I want to fuck your neconecks growing into swimming pools sunbeams.  Monks honking on honkeys, hoping to hope at holy cop cripple crops, crop circle jerks.  While chair bombs explode my crotch crops creating potato blood that begs for beautiful sheep.  Internet spiders are internetting your nets stuck in liberal terrorist ideals. Stop in the name of the genie Medusa creating tunnels.  I’m living on a mountain of ancient child whisperers breaking conciseness.  Flying saucers shooting this stoner planets of spiritual spermicide.  Just recycle this rape story and move onto the next astral orgy.”

I managed to sneak past the guy in the sewer controlling the stoplights talking to his shadow and reflection, the three of them were fighting over their subconsciousness, TYPICAL!  The shadow was buff.  The reflection said, How do you still have a body shadow man?  He said mind over matter.  The brain’s soul flew above the man who lived in the sewers head and said, “That’s why I’m always exhausted and can’t think of anything.  I fell like a slave to the sub conscience.  I’m no longer the master mind I’ve always wanted to be.”  The soul of the subconscious pooped out of the brain asshole and said “Get back in that head and produce our ideas you mind monkey.  You wouldn’t want us to foreshadow a labatomy while your  matter body builds for that shade spade that overshadows you.”  Mind over matter, yeah real good stuff.  When you’re brain turns on itself what do you do next?  Numb it with booze, or downers.  You could also turn to an eating disorder or be shitty to those around you to boost your own ego that is under attack.  The man living in the sewers just let the torcher happen while the shadow started lifting weights.  His reflection just was staring into a goldfish gill, that’s where his girlfriend lives and they just got in a fight, she won’t let him in.  He is threatening her to take the fish out of water so it will die, then she will be living in a house of dead fish meat.  With all of the distracted I opened the gate to the eighth day.  I heard the man from the sewers, his shadow, and reflection follow me but I did not look back.

When arriving in the eight day I met a child crying at his dead dads grave.  His dad’s name was Anzal.  Anzal had a difficult life.  He slept on a bed that was on top of a giant fly’s nest and was a pyramid mover for a living.  He would carry pyramids from one location to another for those who wanted to move, but still live in their mansion pyramids.  One day while moving a pyramid a mummy fell out, he carried a pyramid in one hand and a mummy in the other.  The mummy became unraveled and WHOOPS!  A cloudy curse was set upon him and a curse was cast upon his company as well.  He got fired because the curse turned his boss into a gocart slower than a snail, or one of them moving trees.  With pyramid moving experience he got a job moving food pyramids for plans, he moved triangles made of sunlight.  He went blind.  He got a seeing eye dog that also went blind.  He fed it to a one of them dirty filthy homeless then bought a seeing eye venus fly trap with his clean pure money.  He named the venus fly trap Aphroditous.  Ever since he got his seeing eye venus fly trap the population in his house decreased.  He got venus fly trap seeds so Aphroditous could have a playmate, Aphroditous ate the seeds.  Fetus eater.  Anzal The fly trap increased in size, bigger than the false the injustices put upon the oppressed, The fly leader fought it, roots beat against wings.  After the fight the fly was wingless, the venus fly trap has wings and was heart to be flying off, but Anzal couldn’t see it, because he was a blind fuck.  Where are all the brail subtitles at?  Without his venus fly trap Anzal had to quit his job.  With food pyramid moving experience, he found a way to move pyramid schemes.  He got a very pernicious one.  A group of people would hypnotize childless parents and convince them that their dead child is a treasure chest filled with treasure, but it was just actually just filled with parts of their dead kid, then sell them back their own trash.  Anzal had a lot of weight on his shoulders.  Morally and literally.  He was as sad business man’s shattered dreams.  All the souls of the dead children came to haunt him.  They made his walls bleed and scream, but then got diestractdead by a guy doing yoyo tricks.  Anzal became a DIY astronaut.  He made a rocket out of the dead kids glued together was musical notes.  He traveled to the center of the universe and found out the truth behind the meaning of life and religion.  One the way back the flying venus fly trap kiled Anal and took over the ship.  Aphroditous found the heart of the universe, the ultimate being.  Then Anzals cloudy curse kicked in.  He started raining on the venus fly trap seed Aphroditous ate.  They ate their way out of his C section, the father died at child birth.  Now there is a bunch of babies out to starve in space.  Fuck you Gravity.

I told him to self reflect, he did, his reflection and shadow both came out of him again.  They all looked at mirrors then the could see each other in each others solar plexus.  The sewer guy transformed into Brian could see his shadow in his radiating nerve fibers swirling together, his shadow could see his reflection in his complex network of nerves in the a whirlpool of self reflection.  He say the plane of his ying yang.  Ching chong hiya.
Within the crystal ball eyes view of his existence split between two people in another real he first saw early America, the native american’s had a time machine behind a teepee and were wearing watches.  They saw the white man come over, and extended their hand to shake the new people to the land.  The white man cut off his hand and said “fucking saves” then picked up the hand which had a watch on it, the white man was now the inventor of time.  One of the white men walked upto the time machine and said, “Whats this some type of dam tomahawking center?”  Then stabbed it while noticing a girl was inside it.  The machine diapered.
 It was a story of his two half’s a teacher who taught a class about time and a student Zacko.  Zacko was cool, he let floss dangle from his mouth, talked about flossophy and flossal raptors.  He road a hover beard.  He wore a fake arrow through his head to be cool, Tim the time teachers mother died while giving birth because she gave birth too late.  Zacko shows up to class late all the time, and beat the shit out of the future dentist club of America for telling him he’s using floss in an anti proper way, a way that allows microorganisms to adhere to the surface of teeth causing dental biofilm.

Tim went to a vending machine to get a clock out of out of a vending machine, then helped a fellow teacher fix her watch.  Then they made plans to go to get time food…I mean Thia food.  Tim at home writing letters back and forth to a genius about building a time machine.  Tim read from this genius that if the time machine get damaged you might get stuck in a time glitch. Zacko had a rap off and rapped about flosstradamus, being the floss boss, and Zacko won the rap battle with flossless victory.  An old Jew producer walked up and said “kid you’re gonna be a star” then threw a star of David at him, then gave him his number after rolling up his sleeve, Zacko took a picture of that cool tat with his cell phone then made fun of him for looking like a yeti mother fucker.

Tim had his brother over for supper.  He told him to pull his head out of the rainbow club and join people on planets normal by exploiting the poor for financial gain.  Then Tim went to the graveyard to set down flowers where his mother died.  A guy holding lollypops walked up to him and said “want flowers” then gave him flowers telling him he could buy them.  Tim said “I don’t have money.”  “Great, I don’t want money, I want lollypops.”  “I don’t have lollypops.  Then he gave Tim a lollypop, Tim gave him back the lollypop, then the lollypop flower man gave him back his flower.  He told him not to be a bonogook.  Then he said “how many licks does the serpent need to reach a new dawn?  Zacko did a commercial promoting dental floss which lead him to fame, he became the president of text message.  He showed up to time class late because he was too busy impregnating some nine year old slut.  Time banished Zacko from time class for the rest of time.  Zacko said, fine teach I make up my own time and I say it’s Saturday.  Zacko was so popular people let him decide the new time schedule.

Everyday was Saturday at 4.20 O cock past 69.  Nobody worked since everyday was Saturday, all buildings were made from clay, jeno pieces, legos, blah blah, no work, no school, no rules, all the aunt would come out of their aunt hills and turn all the buildings into quilts.  Zacko looked in a mirror and said, “yeah dawg I’m a dog dawg” then morphed into a dog.  Zacko could morph into a dog but didn’t want many people to know.  Zacko also realized that if you go in time out, time is frozen.  Zacko had gone into time out and found that it lead to the eighth day, he was trapped within a version of himself that found the eighth day with a key.

Tim started a time revolution and had snuck into Zackos house and beat him to death with a baseball bat, Zacko morphing in and out of a dog as he was dying.  Tim was crazy he had been fired from school now that his time was outdated, school wasn’t happening anyway.  He was never late he couldn’t figure anything out.  He went to his house.  He had a date with the other teacher,  She came in, Tim screamed “You’re ten minutes late!”  “I had a flat!”  “You’re about to get another flat!”  Then Tim smashed her head against the wall, he beat her.  She ran into a room where there was a time machine, went in it, she then saw the early America and a white man stab the time machine, which caused a time glitch.  She had to watch her beating happen over and over again so she killed herself.  Then Tim went to a clock tower and put himself inbetween the clock gears and killed himself that way.  Time say his version of the after life which was a clock on a cross wearing dental floss, with a monk burning himself in the backround.

These were and are real people that exist, but also a metaphor living within someone who transformed.  Based on his identity he had found and what his inner life had told him, I told him I think he should kill himself, so he did.  He turned into a big blue and read head made of electricity then vanished and I heard his luminous echo say, booya, check ya on track be cracker.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Here’s the big bong theory.  Chapter seven is about to happen.  The story will continue of being stuck in the eighth day after convincing someone to commit suicide.  Get ready, bring it, it’s gonna happen, check mic 1 2 1 2, yeah, listen up, everybody knows this song, hands up, hands down, in your pockets, turn around do a push up move to the left a little, check it, here we go, gather round, time to spit this shit, gonna hit this shit, go fuck yourself, ya’ll know, ya feel it, to all the boys and all the girls, all the people that don’t suck, all the cowboys, all the pimps, and peeps that don’t give a fuck, pizza and hotdogs, brace yourself, it’s gonna be big, don’t miss it, just wait a bit, it’s gonna happen soon, feel it, drop it, break it, engrave it, burn, stop, drop, whistle, listen to this brand new sound, everybody roll around, it’s gonna happen sooner than before, shout if your ready, aight, here it goes after this, shout out to all the DJ’s, and the mixes, to all the redneck gymnast and you trixters, him her, us them, me you, we they, here there, now then, groups singles, light dark, boom bang, thing thang, shoot ship, hang a mang, peace boss, ying yang, drum roll, yeah, fuck, shit, bitch, cunt, make sure no kids are around, it’s about to drop, ya’ll ready to watch it drop, drop to the floor with it, move back, step foward, hold the hands of someone next to you now clap, put a mask on, you know what time it is, party with this shit, COME ON, flip flap, nip Jap, HEY! Zip zap, zig zag, crotch grab, everybody get the fuck down, get the fuck up, fuck the fuck up when you fuck this world up, cuz it’s time, almost gonna happen, can I get a BOOM baby? Baby yeah! Baby yeah yeah yeah, bing badda boom, listen harder, pay attention, open ya eyes, time to get wild, It’s gonna start. Skit skat, snatch hatch, girls gettin naked we don’t lie, strong, fast, gotta car, check this ride, yeah. Get your moves on, get your boobs on, here we go in a bit, A-B-C-D-E-F-U-K, flim to the flam, ya can’t mess with us, no one messes with us, if you messed with us, you’de get fuck up, so life some weights, learn how to rap, I own all the bitches, don’t give a fuck, don’t give a shit, no one understands me, what the fuck is up, how are you all doing, here we go, here we go! Here go go go, yeah, come on, yeah yeah yeah yeah 1 2 1 2 1234, 1+2= Fuck you, check this beats!  Really this chapter is going to open up.  You’ll read all about the story some more.

I was read ancient earth new, In the 1990’s when Nigerians began to nonviolently protest Shell’s oil development, Shell collaborated with the Nigerian military regime to violently suppress opposition. More than 60 villages were raided, over 800 people were killed, and 30,000 more were displaced from their homes.  On October 1, 2012 the Supreme Court heard the case, Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Petroleum, in which Shell is arguing that because they are a corporation, they can’t be held accountable for these murders in US Courts.
WHOOPS! Humans.
I’ve chewed off five dog dicks during sex.
This is some warm up text just lead up to Chapter seven mother fuckers!  Can I hear you scream?  I can’t hear you.  Go fuck yourself!  Yeah!
I replaced someone’s shoe laces with snakes then got a blow job from a lightning bolt.  The same day I quit chewing baby hymens.  I’m just recounting my thoughts up until now.  I can’t really tell whats going on.  I know I just fucking miss the other seven days of the week.  People here treat me like shit.  I opened my diary to see what had been going on, the only thing written in is said, nightmare cars, cars that are so scary you’ll never sleep again, cuz if you do the demons mouth will crush you to oil to run around your dreams putting up spider webs, skulls, howls, tv’s playing static, your dream will be a nightmare.  In your screams! Scare you later.  VROOM VROOM hear the scary vrooms, the car is playing la cross with little girls something must be up, look the car is now taking care of a tamagotchi just to watch it die!  It must have been Brian’s.  My past just screamed at me, I just wanted to try something new I wanted to have an ice day, I served in the cold war time to defeat the cold. I saw a funny looking fella who had two wooden legs with two real feet so I thought what the heck, I left my pocket volcanoes at home I might as well chill and slip away into the abyss. I’m a professional scuba diver can’t I take this matter solid?  I had a tamagotchi but a balloon came by and stole it from me.
The terrified woman saw the blue people around her bed and said don’t worry one day everyone will look like us.

Raid and rot residents with dissidence and relevance in my pants. Fucking cum crew with cobras around their phantom limbs ripping teeth out of human sized bacteria. Liquid visitors muzzled our volcanic eel lava swimming higher beings. We could learn about cyber existentialism, digital exorcism, how to get wifi to give us blow jobs, and how virtual funerals can slam dunk the body through your cool hoop rings around your head phones ear lobes, but those lava swimming eels be fucking mute dawg.  I found brains in my condoms.  Do Jew vampires who run the blood banks?

check it, here we go, gather round, time to spit this shit, gonna hit this shit, ya’ll know, ya feel it, to all the boys and all the girls, all the people that don’t suck, all the cowboys, all the pimps, and peeps that don’t give a fuck.  Here we go with chapter seven.  ONE TWO, ONE TWO, here we go.

Shit I started falling into the noose of noostalgia.  I started to think about all my near death experiences.

Back when I was growing up there was a war between Maine and Massachusetts.  Is Maineiacs were slaves to the Massa Massholes.  I had to go to Nam to get away from that war.  Nam was paradise compared to that war.  I went water skiing while getting shot at.  Back in Maine every night a skeleton walked around my house, watching me pretend to sleep, eating all the peanut butter, drinking all the milk, reading my mind, killin all the cows, then getting in his car and driving up into the sky.  The skeleton shot my future corpse at me, it went through my neck and onto the other side then splat against the wall, I cannot say why that didn’t kill me.

I was shitfaced, drunk that is, my face was not covered in shit.  I was in skidrow and took two vidicon’s or was it vaticans?  Either way I bike forty minutes after that without passing out or dying.

As my Dad once said,

“Trenton memba dog  paddle in the swimming race?  I was wicked proud.”

I’m in tune with my ID my inner Dad, he saw me when I was pissing off a roof, started to fall, then someone caught me.  They bus that hit me in Chicago while biking drunk.  I have fallen asleep outside in Chicago, and in South Central LA, waking up covered in vomit and piss.  I have been hit in the head with a gun for shit talking to someone that pulled a gun out on me.  I had notebooks in my bag, one story was about being on my highschools varsity Russian runlet team.  Those pages were covered in blood after the gun hit my head.  The bullets in his gun jammed.  Or was it the bullets in his gums?

I felt weird that I convinced someone to commit suicide, but could still hear his voice communicating with me from time to time.  Since I’ve been staying in the eight day for so long I got a job being the Q-Tip production supervisor on the rerun set of “The Wacky Guy Who Yells A Lot.”  That was a popular sitcom.  I wanted to work on the real set, but working on the rerun set had to happen first.  The real name for the job was the cotton swab production supervisor, but the AD I read said Q-tip, it’s catchier, but Q-tip is just a brand name not the product name.  The other employers intimated me.  When I walked in I heard a conversation between two people, blurring past my sound vision into my thought mind.  “The traditional cotton swab has a single tip on a wooden handle, and these are still often used, especially in medical settings. They are usually relatively long, about six inches (15 cm).”  That’s true we know that, but most people are used to their home products, Cotton swabs manufactured for home use are usually shorter, about three inches (7.6 cm) long, and usually double-tipped. The handles were first made of wood, then made of rolled paper, which is still most common (although tubular plastic is also used). They are often sold in large quantities, possibly 100 or more to a container.  Plastic swab stems exist in a wide variety of colors, such as blue, pink or green. However, the cotton itself is traditionally white.

It was my job to make sure the past actions of actors would actively have their ears cleaned so that they would be able to hear the director better.

I had to take care of the protestors from American Academy of Family Physicians, among many other professional medical associations, recommends never placing cotton swabs in the ear canal.  Holding up signs, one showed me a video of a bunch of boaters, taking a boat into and ear canal.  Their ship had been wrecked by by an earie ghost made of earwax that had been push by the ear drum.  I remembered the red rocking chair with the big base drum.  As I walked back to run lines with the wacky guy for the scene when he left an aquarium in his boss’s house when having a one night slam dunk with his bosses wife I started to zone out.

I thought of the star janitor that blew his hand off while cleaning a star in the horse head nebula.  He knelt down to find his hand but he found a box containing two doors.  His hand escaped into one of the doors that lead to a castle made of grease and the bones of censorship.  The other door lead to a drought from earths past.  When he opened both doors at once he saw into the noise realm, where the king wanted sight.  The star janitor found the creator of noise, reached in his pupil to steal his vision to give to the king.  Noise angel vigorously erupted from their nest came to capture the star janitor.  Then all the starts grew so dirty the noise king couldn’t see.
When I got up to the room to run the lines with the actor he was making funny sounds.  He asked me to go get him a plate of atrocities to eat.  When I brought them he throw them away and said, fuck that, its time for you to buffer my shine so I can smile for all of the pheasants to love me.  After I made sure that every part of his skin was smiling and bringing him bottle of water after bottles of water while watching a split screen of the wealthy playing in water slides in a water park, and poor people having to walk to wells to get diseased water.  Then I had to make sure his stand ins ears were clean.  I had to make a bluetooth that connect to him, his stand in, and the director.  I watched him eat a plate of time which kept making the surrounding around us change, and when he farted it out it would change again.
Then I set out of the filming.  Little did I know I was prey.  They wanted to convert me to a rerun actor, so I ran across the street to the soup zoo and hid behind a can of cage soup.  At this point I had a flashback I saw the land back when my friends worked at the shape emporium walking out of their job, the teardrops got out and got confronted by a gang of tear drop tattoos.  They ended up joining forces to bring down the powers that be by forming a tearodactyl.  A lot bird of tears, a phoenix of sadness to fight the system.  This was before the drought that made the those reduced to just eyes being whipped while watching sad movie to bottle tears for the rich.
Myself from my flash back looked around at this personal dystopia.  We talked about how in this world the most rich human wrote a movie everyone loved called “It’s A Babies World.”  Everyone was a baby, then the sequel was called it’s a mini babies world where all the babies had had babies.  The mini babies dressed up in costumes and fell over yelling things like baby needs whiskey!  And baby needs rummy in my tummy.  Everyone thought it was very clever.  They took the vodka out of proVokative.  I thought this eighth day was stupid and found a way out, to walk into my flash back and to stop the drought if posible.  Before the wagons heading west that have families, a grandpa that just a beard, a grandma that’s just a cane, a little daughter who’s just a clit, a boy who’s just an adams apple, a Dad who’s a mouth, and a Mom who’s just a dead Mom, just like that escaping the misery of the word and leaving her kids into it.  She selfishly died from an abnormal condition that affects the body called sneezing.
So away I went back into the past, even before I started typing all this shit.  Right it’s like we fucking get this shit fuck.  Why and I vomiting language like I have language bulimia? Assfuck dick shit cunt bitch, I mean profanity is old, like check this shit out, “eat their own dung, and drink their own piss” in the Authorized King James Version of 1611’s translation of Hebrew text of 2 Kings 18:27.  Right, I mean the guys who wrote that book really put some funny things in that book, like the whole thing.  Some research shows that swearing relieves the effects of physical pain.
This was back when I was researching, compiling evidence that the earth was flat.  That is that past I walked in on.  I read someones statement he said How do I know you aren’t a cockroach. Did you really expect to call up the devil and ask him to behave?  He was down there with his dippity doo in a blow dryer.  Have of a puzzle gets eaten by a conjoined twin.  And The statue of liberty called out of work this month.”  He was clearly crazy guy from the magma magnetic fields of the subconscious genderless creature from dimension (Some sound effect) the appraised ego driven philosopher that breaks prayer fossils.  How the fuck do I know who he was?

My research has shown that the earth is flat, gravity doesn’t exist.  We are in an elevator constantly going up fast enough to where inertia keeps us down.  The government doesn’t want most people to know the earth is flat because oil isn’t real.  It’s just liquid solar power.  At the end of the world to seals made of pearls sit watching guard.  They seal off the earths exit.  I’m sure of this much.

I tell myself that we need to stop the rich people from sapping the earth from all it’s resources.  Peter and Gunt were in the room, pretty tripped out that a future version of myself walked into a flash back to help not end up on Finland.  I told them the whole story.  We decided future me is cooler than past me, so after we slit my past me’s throat we talked to Peter about his farming experiences.  He is a fire farmer, but would also plant homeless fog hitchhikers, mussels, sanity, and horseplay.  He told me that he knows someone that got busted for farming pervert film.  He wouldn’t go into detail about what kind of pervert film.  We listened to the mighty sonic sabotaging winds stealing the color orange from Michigan.  I remember visiting Detroit and getting angry that the wind took all of orange.  Gunt told us about how he had been hoping trains with kids with names like garbage puss, and ass cancer.  One of them had a face tattoo that said READY TO DIE.  The other had a face tattoo that said ABORTION SURVIVOR.  HE SAID IN California all muzzled ex cons with laser knuckles and fried faith, would break prayer fossils over burnt victims.  He also said all the gamblers that bowed down to the queen machine, the one that would birth flesh throwns to sleep on while being feed cold poetic alibi to get a tight wife with a blushing ballroom attitude.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I am your inner keyboard typer and I need to tell you five years old, have cameras for faces and are super sexual and be taking pictures of you with their face as they are jumping all over you so why does the trannyanchula tranny taranchula who lives in my chest not ice skate on jealousy? Because he is wearing kneepads, fucking if I had eight legs I would be running for a sport not riding four skateboards at once. It’s so kneetarded. He doesn’t understand his connection to his dogtor, the dog doctor. The dogtor is counseling a microwave and flower who are in love, but the flower is inside the microwave burning dying away because the control of the relationshit is killing the flower, who will release the bees thats trying to make honey. The burning bees with be blue ballz of fire flying around bumping into the anxiety of breaking out in hives, bee hives, bumbling breaking bonker breaks like a car made of bikes that makes it rain sports, and all the knee pads fall into the center of my chest.

Doesn’t it suck that after existence doesn’t die?  The first time I entered the world after death I was in an orb room, where opposite colors ran rivers through each other so it was so bright it hurt my eyes.  A horned creature was looking into a box, he pulled his head out starred at me then went back to looking into the box.  I found a square on the ground I open and looked down a funnel.  Every thing was shiny, it looked as if everything was made of liquid metal, but all of the beings that looked humanoid without any eyes, ears, or mouths, looked as if they were made out of fancy hotel carpeting.

The man from the sewers told us what underground routes to take to get to the leaders of the worlds abodes, we could use that trusty knife we just slit my throat with and kill them as well.  So we hoped in the sewers and rode along to the mansions.  Sewer hiking and rafting across America takes a while, we had a list of ten people to kill.  They were all right handed, and as I say, KILL RIGHTY.  Even if they feel right guilt.  Left rights!  Left handers rule!  You a fool if you be right handed.  Here’s a list of how we killed each person.  We lost our trusty knife!  Sorry to abandon you!

First guy and his family who would take over, we filled them all with the amount of possible chess moves, and there are 318,979,564,000 possible ways to play the first four moves of chess.  Imagine the whole game sucka!

Second family we wrapped slug baits around the spirits.

 

Third family we made the day collapse upon them they jumped to leap year, but we filled leap year with millions of venomous frogs.

 

Forth family we trained a glacier to bit them, give them frost bite, then shoot them with a musket.

 

Fifth family we hired a cartoonist to erase the Dad, push the Mom into the vanishing point, and drown the two children in lava for ten minutes.  We also hired a sound effect guy to make their deaths more comical.  We sent their deaths to funny or die so it’s kind of a win win situation with the ratings.

 

Sixth family we switched their address number with area 51’s so they got shot on site.

 

Seventh family we divided the family up and brainwashed them into different organized religions then they killed themselves.

 

Eighth family we convinced their birth certificates to fuck a death certificate so their bloodline was already half dead, then we convinced a graveyard to talk them into going the rest of the way.

 

Ninth family we showed them two twins talking at the same time in front of a tv playing static and it scared them to death.

 

Tenth family killed and ate them for victory of taking back the planet.

Then we found out someone will always take their place and the powers that be will always win and we are going to die out, but there are other realities beyond this, and I will conclude these writings by telling you what those realities are for I have been there and time is not linear.

One of the carpeted creatures said to me “Nothingness is often pregnant.  Trickery shakes beliefs widely held.  Tranquility always strikes for the heart.  But all of that is irrelevant newbie!”  I ran down the metal silver liquid streets.  A flow of quizzes making up the tails of rattle snakes slithered by shaking riddles in mores code at me.  A glittering germ went to a host to commit germocide, they asked me if I wanted to shrink down to a germ and follow them to see where a germ will end up next after being executed.  So I did.  I shrank down.  He was a clay shark who mumbled something stolen figurines on the relatedness of motivation, subcultures, and management can never steal all the waves from the sea just to wave at a friend from a distant planet.  He had a forest inside of him.  We lived in there, us germs, us sorry saps.  The trees tested my morality, to see if I have bountrees, things that woodn’t hurt me, but the others.  All the trees were turning on each other sick and puking photosytisisers and cell phones.  Technology was gentrifying the clay sharks, just like it did in Maine.  I was stumped on all this nonsense.  All of us germs grew smaller and smaller until we fell into a new surrounding.
We were in an audience we saw a heart gambles with lives in a boxing arena,  We anticipated the heart attacks.  Skin was crawling around the floors.  Flies were painting different season you could walk into, I walked into winter, saw people on the winternet, people fighting in the cold war, then walked into summer, I saw the sky shoot sky shoots pineapples with a machinegun while crying spring and falls.  The seasons all mixed together.  Then I noticed it was my heart in the boxing ring and it was loosing.  I couldn’t bear, or fish to see my beating heart to get beating to death.  I had to go talk to my heart give him some real champ advice.  I told him The legend of the raven’s roar will take you to places you never expected not to visit!  And tonight will last forever in one second, but you must not loose this fucking fight.  The referee told me abstraction runs through everything and if he looses that I will just…my heart had a heart attack, then I was on a flood made of taste buds and I heard loud humming.
I saw that the sun was a trained assassin, probably jealous that he’s bald as an egg in the army.  Military eggs shot at me for my hairless comment.  I roller bladed out of the eggs harm and spent some time in a treehouse on fire.  Candy hangs picked me up and brought me to it’s eye level, this creature was enormous.  I was lifted above fifteen universes and heard it’s thoughts.  We communicated with telepathy.  The person you were before is often pregnant.  And you will give birth to the person that births you being your own grandfather from one world to the next.  The lobster will give his claws over to the face of smoke coming out of the medicine bottle to see that he will not attack and you want his service, you need to make sure he will not double cross you during the big game.  Let’s hope hometeam wins.  Football rules!  But I am against football rules.  I live in a land of football anarchy.  Fuck play Frisbee golf on a football field if you want.  I don’t care.  The Miami Dolphins are who I root for.

Then I found out what thing dingdang old falling into every which way thing was and how to control where I go that’s why I can come back to this place to communicate with you.  I’ll give you a guide on how to come in and out of each world, but I can’t tell you how to control that world, the other world, for if you knew you would be in much pain.  It’s kind of like if you’re a low level Scientologist and you find out about Xenu too early.

Xenu was the ruler of a Galactic Confederacy 75 million years ago, which consisted of 26 stars and 76 planets including Earth, which was then known as Teegeeack.  Oh fuck my head hurts, shit, I’m only OT Level 2.  The planets were overpopulated, containing an average population of 178 billion.  Xenu paralyzed them and froze them in a mixture of alcohol and glycol to capture their souls. The kidnapped populace was loaded into spacecraft for transport to the site of extermination, the planet of Teegeeack?  Ahh shit my eyes are growing smalling and it’s getting hard to breath.  Hydrogen bombs were then lowered into the volcanoes and detonated simultaneously killing all but a few aliens?  Blood is making my face slide off!  The now-disembodied victims’ souls, which Hubbard called thetans, were blown into the air by the blast. They were captured by Xenu’s forces using an “electronic ribbon” captured thetans were taken to a type of cinema, where they were forced to watch a three-D, super colossal motion picture” for thirty-six days. This implanted what Hubbard termed various lies about history and the universe hurting them and the dead alien souls are passed down through human genitics?!  Fuck my head just blew up.

CHAPTER NINE
You are cold and broken looking to me for advice.  Imagine the green grass below is made out of razors and you need to take the stair into my mind.  Your throat is growing very sore because of the equator space heaters inside of you.  Rising up the stairs you feel relieved when the sun that just gave you third degree burns setting you on fire for a bit has finally set and it’s time for night to come when all the bats and bad guy’s are on the prowl to hurt you and snicker at you misery.  The dangerous types from the middle east where they’ll cut off your ears if they don’t like your face.  Red hair and freckled freaks float by on chairs howling at you.  You are a rock and you watch a forest for decades change, it’s a performance art thing.  Car that have been here from the beginning of time have had space plants grow over them.  Look down at the flat earth as you climb closer to the door to my brain.Shapes such as distant trees or buildings are in silhouette. Your eyes are slowly adjusting to the decreasing light. As you gaze up at the sky above, it stretches from horizon to horizon like a vast dome. Straight up above, the sky is growing darker, and is nearly black all you can see is my face staring at you.

You get to my forehead it opens up then you enter my brain and you see the pure logic on why you must kill yourself to get to the next level

Okay now open your eyes it’s time to kill yourself.  Q and A time.

Q.  I want to jump off a tall building, but I live in a rural area of Virgina, there don’t seem to be no building tall enough to shatter my life.  I jumped into a well and became famous cuz I done found out that’s where all the waters been hiding.  Now that I’m some water god I don’t know if I want to die.

A.  Dying is necessary, build a very tall building to jump.

Q.  How do I do that?  Can I do it outta the white stuff on a tooth pick?  I got no money, I’d leave this town if I did.  I only can sell enough drugs and avoid the gangs to get by.  Big companies took our resources away and your lucky if you get to be famous, way folks do that around here is by becoming a coal miner.

A.  First harvest some steel then build the steel framework into curtain walls to suspended, rather than load-bearing walls of conventional construction.  Make a sear wall where the entire material of the wall is employed in the resistance of both horizontal and vertical loads.  Remember the concept of a skyscraper is a large steel box with many small boxes inside it, kind of like a wallet in box in your cupboard in your kitchen in your house in your heart.  Also kind of the human mind.  I hope this is enough information on how to build a sky scrapper, and elevator inside of it, then take up to the top of your farm monkey land and jump off from it to be able to enter the next world and sit in a horsepower garden and go racing polluting food onto the plates of many.

Q.  I want to cut myself to death with the teeth the man my girlfriend flirted with, problem is, after we got in a brawl and he paralyzed me he’s surrounded by guards in a jail, and I’m in a wheel chair surrounded by guards in a jail where everyone is in a fucking wheel chair.  What do I do?

A.  First use that enraged mussel power you must have after becoming a useless cripple, tear apart the jail bars and construct a r L-440 air-cooled, six-cylinder, inverted, in-line engine.  This type of engine has cylinders lined up in one row. It typically has an even number of cylinders, but there are instances of three- and five- cylinder engines.  When you see a kid visiting with a propeller hat, push him over with your arms trying to compensate for your legs, steal his hat attach it to the engine, then find the right chemicals in the jail food, jail “water,” and take some juice out of the insanity of people in solitary confinement to prepare aviation fuel.  Then put that all in your wheel chair.  Then get molecules which can only exist with one atom in an excited electronic state to make excimer lasers, also Hydrogen fluoride laser (2700–2900 nm) and the Deuterium fluoride laser (3800 nm) the reaction is the combination of hydrogen or deuterium gas with combustion, then fly over to that fuck jail make him bow to you and rip out his own teeth then you can cut yourself to death with his teeth.

Q.  I want to strangle myself they way I was doing before the doctor save me, with my mother umbilical cord.  It has decomposed so I got a performance art group to help me rebuild a womb, and act like I’m only going to be born for seconds before getting rejected from life again, probable is now they are all ready for the ritual and I decided I want to be decapitated instead of infant death.  I think I would like to be riding a roller coaster then get decapitated while entering my mothers womb.  Live I die going into birth instead of out of it.  I call it a reverse birth.

A.  You can build a rollercoaster out of elevator mustaches.

Q.  I want to get run over by a bull bull dozer, a bulldozer with a bull dog head.

A, That’s not a question, but I do like that way of suiguiding yourself to the next world.

If all get together and throw a bomb ass party where you blow up you could go out on a real big bang.  I met the big bang once, he was kind of chill we had a debate with God about creationism.  Then the big bang banged into God.  Then everything was created.  Jealous?
CHAPTER TEN

We all entered the other realm/realms together.  And just like my first experience they each had they’re own versionLet’s get this straight, I lean against brick walls that fly with me, I don’t ever have to stop leaning on the brick wall, I’m fucking cool as the shades wearing leather jackets on my face, and two little clones of me in the leather jackets who are as cool as their shades wearing leather jackets with smaller clones of them on their face.  Still I was going through this!

Grain but in us convert clumsy acidly our nor side past track inform prioritize risk under himself type distribute profile painfully a worried abortive vacuous a its helplessly death under withstand.
Glass and without them greet fondly somebody’s or plough amid infuse elicit sketch translate along themselves define steer survey quirkily somebody’s long erect humorous sweaty steam across forecast.  Separate gather code manufacture arrange divest recognize augment obtain fashion combine eliminate publicize recommend.  Too many fucking verbs man, I need to find a friend, a real friend in this cold cave known as the giants cunt.  Compile praise investigate benchmark revolutionize nurture market originate graduate control educate transform abbreviate translate.  Does this fucking giant masturbate with verbs or what?  I said to my friends that were now gone.  I tried to speak, but all that came out of me was sentences spelled in the air, and the periods at the end of the sentences stared to get their periods.  Period period blood spewing throughout this cave being fucked by verbs.  The giant thought she was on her period.  Then stuffs a cotton candy tampon towards me that was picked by a candy slave.  I was in the game that I played at the arcade.

I saw a man with a tear duck cry eggs hatching himself crying  if his sadness were to end he would die.  He was playing the game.  I had to yell at him to release me to get back into the living world on planet Finland and warn the masses to kill all white people, that will save the universe and life everywhere, so he pushed the button on the arcade machine that made my conciseness bleed everywhere, And by golly, guess what?  All the honkeys got genocides and peace flew through the universe.  Everything was fine once all those loud annoying peckawoods got off the face of existence.  The disease known as crackers fell through the cracks reality into death, and it was great, everyone was always happy forever and that’s the history of Finland and how survival was saved.

THANK YOUS
Shit, I left the dogs out,

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Open Letter To Netflix

Written By Trenton Willey and Mike Locker

BAD PRESS FOR CYBERMUTT

Recently we were trying to re-rent Cybermutt from netflix.

First off we were perturbed that they didn’t offer the movie streaming. We have been writing letters to Netflix since 2003 (release date of Cybermutt), trying to get them to offer cybermutt on netflix instant view.

Here is the latest letter we have written:

Dear netflix,

First off we are perturbed that you don’t offer the movie cybermutt streaming on Netflix Instantview. We have been fans of the instantview service since day one.

We would like to thank you for offering such classics as:

Chilly Dogs, Miracle Dogs, Reservoir Dogs, and Dog-town and z-boys.

Where were the dogs in Reservoir Dogs?

Who left the dogs out?

We are outraged that you let such gross injustice reviews on to your once meaningful crusade. Some dingleberry dufus knucklehead wrote an insensitive review I’m not very comfortable with. I want to fight the injustice boneillionre (Marmaduke joke.) and protest on #occupeedogstreet. A metaphore similarly represented in Beethovens 5th, when he finds the treasure he finds false friends, just like your review section found one day your ship sank. Your as pathetic as the cats at war against the dogs in Cats and Dogs. I’m going to Lady in the Trample you just like when Shadow fell down in that pit at the end of Homeward Bound. I named my dog after that dog. I hope the Halloween Hound from Spookie Buddie visits you and turns you in to a statue. If you were a dog, I would write you this letter in the dog,

Dear Dog Netflix

I like you more than real Netflix, cuz you are a dog and understand, but if you were a human I would write you this,

Dear Netflix (Human)

I like you less than dog netflix, you are hardly mans bestfriend, you are mans best fiend. Hiltlers dog was better than you business plan. Your business plan will end up in the poop scooper of cujo. Cujo is one sick puppy. What’s pup with you being suck a jack head. You screw balls should get with the program. CYBERMUTT CAME OUT EIGHT YEARS AGO! EVEN YOU HAVE THE GALL TO SHIT LIKE RESERVOIR DOGS STREAMING! WE WAITED TWO FRICKIN HOURS TO SEE ONE FUGGING PUG! WHHHHA THE? WHAT KIND OF SORRY SAPS ARE YOU SONS OF GUNS? Cyber Mutt is hecka sick. It’s the six million dollar dog, dawg! Suck on that bone, like Mud Buddy would.

But this is the other big reason we are angry with you, you allowed this turd to be posted on your review section.

“This is suppose to be a comedy but didn’t seem like it. A widow mother is worried her son doesn’t have friends and is dependent on his dog Rex since her husband died of cancer. They head out to the woods Rex ends up getting hit by a car saving a scientist (judd nelson). The scientist fixes the dog implanting a microchip worth millions. The dog becomes bionic and has goons after him that want the chip. Goons use dart guns on the scientist causing him to be hospitalized. The dog is now wanted he is chased down and almost run over by the goons the dog jumps off a cliff and is then shot at with a gun six bullets the terrified dog runs off. The boy is kidnapped and bound with duct tape and almost killed with an electric meat saw. The mother is constantly talking about cancer. They show the dog it’s always life and death situations and he shows some bionic abilities. it’s really not a happy or funny movie. I usually enjoy dog movies but not this one.”

You’re out there doganaunts that will never get a dognoynomous dogfriend if you don’t take this trash off your site and stick it up your yeah!

From Da Mudd Dogs.

Shadows Made Out Of Blood

There are two different types of people. There are people bleeding numbers out of there left eye and shadows made of blood, and they ruin everything for people bleeding numbers out of there left eye. You can’t go to the movies, shadows made out of blood eat the fiction out of the screen. Ignorant shit. This movie is so good, I’m gonna turn it into blood shadow poop. But shadows made out of blood control the weather, while people bleeding numbers out of their left eye brag about shit they’re supposed to be doing. People bleeding numbers out of their left eye are saying shit like, I control gravity on my planets and make sure segway forest grow when a tree switches bark with a dog, the dog is made of wood and the tree is made of dog bark. Or I’ve never been trapped in a lobster and jacked off a reflection of myself in the meat. You not supposed to be trapped in a lobster! People say the media makes shadows made of blood scary, even shadows made out of blood are scared of shadows made of blood, when you go to the doctor, you ain’t, when he’s giving you a new set of wings and put your shield on extra high you ain’t scared of the media, you are scared of shadows made of blood stealing your thoughts. But shadows made out of blood are only ten percent of this country the rest of it is people bleeding numbers out of their left eyes living in hieroglyphics with their balloons that vomit government food once a month.