Yeah, so, whenever I get the chance, I’ve been screaming to the crazy next door neighbor: “Monkey face. Tah-eee coming outta your mouth again!”
It’s a good and healthy way to diffuse my anger and hatred against stupid/crazy people and the system that allows them to exist, period.
Why should I suffer evil when I can get even? It’s the freedom of speech, correct? I’m reflecting her sins against her.
After Dad Squirrel left, I had to re-park my car from the left to the right driveway. I flicked off her cameras to flush out the evil entity from inside the house.
While barely parking into the right driveway, I saw her garage door opened. (Oh by the way, I still know something about the government.)
Anyway, I started ranting through the crack of my driver’s window. And outta the corner of my left eyeball, I can see she was craning her neck from behind the avocado tree to see my whereabouts. But the red Hello Kitty window film protected me from her evil eyeballs.
As soon as I emerged from my car, she approached the shard chain link fence and made mewing sounds. While walking away, I ranted, “Monkey face! Tah-eee coming outta your mouth again!”
I couldn’t hear what she said then or this morning when she was gardening (again) and talking to the invisible ghost on her cellphone.
Did I mentioned I know something about government mind control and hypnosis on citizens, like that crazy bitch?
Anyway, I’ll become more bold and louder, just as I did tonight. For example, an Asian couple was walking eastbound on MY drive. The woman was to his right, near the street.
I started to sing, “Next door is a Cray Cray, Next door is a crazy.” They looked to their right and towards the opened garage. The guy removed his dark hood.
I guess this piece of shit will never end until the government stops the mind control experiment. Did I say the government experiments on people, like Loca Lolita?
Anyway, this is a good exercise on getting out my frustrations. Thanks for teaching me to be strong. I’m still not that yet confident or assertive. But I’ll get “there” with your demonic help!
Did I mention that the government plays “God”? Really, they do! Which brings me to my incoming thought at 0033, a double digit number.
During this afternoon’s weekly staff meeting, the whitish reptilian guy with silvery hair wouldn’t stop flicking his reptilian tongue.
His sidekick secretary was seated to his left. Most of us were seated off his left opposite side. I mimicked his tongue flicking for kicks.
So he said something about feedback to the policy owner. That’s Mike. I don’t know who he is or what he looks like.
I don’t even know the name of the reptilian guy, who kinda acts fruity. I think he wore something pinkish, which is perfectly fine as per my OLD blog in which I’d like to see more guys wear different coloured shirts, even in pastels.
Anyway, as far as the government is concerned, “They” are in essence co-creators! “They” rely on us humanz for feedback! What that reptilian guy said made sense about feedback to the policy owner. Yup, yup.
So TPTB and pals, please forgive me for being so freaking slow! Your deceivers are doing a fine job. Without these dammed liars, we humanz wouldn’t be pushed to our limits, though eternity is limitless. We’ll let y’all know when certain policies suck, of course.
If it’s true about your fears in dying, death, or being dead, don’t be! Your avatar essence will be recycled and reconfigured with other co-creators. It’s as if y’all never really died, just different, of course!
I just need to scan throughout the cosmos and resurrect whatever comes to mind. I go by “feel”. Sorry about the delayed response. (Incoming thought 0047: And please don’t think I was referring to that crooked letter “E”. That’s old news.)
Yeah, so, I’m still wide awake and probably from last night’s birthday party excitement and eating to much carbs of noodles and rice and sweets of dry strawberry birthday cake.
Later that evening and after everything was tidy, I scratched my upper left arm and drew drops of blood, borrowed mom’s blood glucose tester, and received a reading of 110 d/glucose. That means I’m pre-diabetic.
Woo-hoo! Not only am I already tone-deaf, but I’ll probably go blind, too, if I don’t watch my diet of which I could only eat a handful of morsels throughout the day!
Anyway, yeah, y’all don’t need to stage my death or beam me up in your flying contraptions or take-out the crazy next door neighbor or ruin me or anyone else, because I’m already messing up. Woo-hoo!
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