Tag: myBlog-category

Now that the collusion and obstruction conspiracy theories have been exposed for the pathetic hoaxes they always were, the Obama-era DOJ and FBI must answer for their misdeeds and the scam that they perpetrated against the American people. http://dailymessenger.blogspot.com/2019/04/now-that-collusion-and-obstruction.html

Piyak! It’s my nonsensical word that I have made up during times of stress. My mommy said that during my childhood I would make up words. And so Piyak!

Anyway, my personal rant with an alphabet soup society occurred, say, almost 19 years ago or so.

And so I told my daddy after we at his lunch of the usual boiled soup of frozen veggies and meatballs at home, that those who would forego the value on pieces of paper the opportunity of participating in narratives, along with the usual “silence is golden” deal, I do NOT know what to believe anymore.

I was trying to reprogram his mind not to believe too much whatever is in the news. But like myself, we are too stubborn as creatures of habit.

48 churches burned in Paris by Jihadi arsonists since January and now, Notre Dame Cathedral… http://dailymessenger.blogspot.com/2019/04/48-churches-burned-in-paris-by-jihadi.html

Well, yesterday I took the liberty to share two photos of my family from two separate 50th Jubilee Anniversary 2011 yearbooks of our Catholic Parish, which is located northwest on MY long stretch of road, with the approved of my timesheets.

And so I also shared a third mug shot which was publicized in a magazine for my job twenty years ago.

And so I wanted to anchor and prove to the reptilian, err, elderly guy who probably was let go in his previous high -tech gig which has a female lead with SRA eyeballs.

Anyway, I was panicking Monday and last Friday over a task which I was NOT confident in submitting for approval until the big guy helped with the numbers. It’s supposed to be the annual D&O and Fiduciary stuff, both of which I know nothing since I was mainly and really interested in the scanning and archiving task.

Anyway I’m reading now the updated choir schedule and I get to cantor in May 26, which is the Sixth Sunday of Easter, whatever that means.

So despite the burnings, I get to sing of praises and thanksgivings. Yup.

A few minutes ago, my small mind wondered why TPTB and pals would do stuff to smart humanz, like JA, who hacked, cracked or got stuff. If one can, so can others.

That’s one chapter completed. I wonder what will be the next chapter. Usually, I would like to read towards end of a good book, and then read the normal way from front to back.

So I have a problem with publishing the truth as narratives can be flipped rather easily, realities altered. Evidence can be destroyed, deleted, edited, Photoshopped, whatever.

I am NOT convinced that anything can be ‘real’ and taken as truth, such as Mueller and Barr, both of whom can be on board their particular stories. I sensed the players in the YouTube video have rehearsed their scripts or lines as the woman seemed to have stumbled on certain words.

Journalism, whether handed as classified or not, can be tainted when the stuff is made-up, typed-up by anyone! I have lots of experiences and the evidence are nil or few, all of which no one would care.

I am NOT convinced. But I can only go by the words and words of others,, or better yet – do a mind meld and extract vital information that way! Ooo!

http://dailymessenger.blogspot.com/2019/04/ten-churches-burned-by-jihadi-arsonists.html

Well, I guess yesterday’s angry thoughts have manifested and thusly so I saw my fire and brimstone.

Dear diary,

I am watching a YouTube video and came across and old piano recital, which was intense. Of course, I was NOT a professional and did NOT know how to execute the Prelude in G minor Op 23 No 5 by Rachmaninoff.

Now a Hispanic classmate by the name of Sergio played it all the way without the notes. He was already in the music arena as I recall two whitish old farts smiling at him with the rest of us in the back.

So with that said, I hate this place as the humiliation ritual commenced with my birth, processed throughout high school and continues with being under and unemployed and suffered with Respondent.

Do I appreciate y’all stealing my parents’ hard work from their blood, sweat, and tears? I think Sheol will be in place for y’all. I am NOT amused. Y’all have your new narrative – fire and brimstone will commence. Bring down the hammer and guillotine.

Sincerely,

Flynn B versus you asshole.

Dear diary,

I’m still listening to YouTube bloggers discussing their opinions about stuff that has NOT yet presented its outcomes, such as a Third Temple or the gold standard via electronic blockchains.

I do NOT understand why y’all are still holding us hostage with your narratives with monies, fiat or not, central banksters or not. I do NOT understand how y’all are able to place a value on life, especially foodstuff for trading – veggies, animals, minerals and yes humanz.

Whosoever is making up stuff away central bankers, is still the same concept of CENTRALIZING your stuff into this gold stuff via some sort of transportation. I have a problem with your rebranding the money-changers. It is the same damn scheme.

They are holding us hostage with technology that no one could possible break or steal. Anything done electronically can be edited to disappear. I know this can happen with HRC emails. This can happen with electronic banking, gold or not.

So I do NOT understand why y’all are creating narratives for when TSHF scenarios and the advertisement for pre-packaged foodstuff lasting some 25 years. I do NOT mind eating that stuff. It’s easier to prepare and I am NOT picking on eating.

As a matter of fact, everything I’ve come to know is meaningless. Eating is meaningless. The taste and odors are meaningless. I eat fast and do NOT care to savior something that I will forget.

Likewise, gold is invisible to me. Change is invisible as I concluded that humanz are still capable of being evil. I do NOT care anymore.

Sincerely,

Flynn B is pissed that nothing is gonna change EVER. Y’all are NOT getting off this hellish planet and y’all will certainly work for money, which my daddy said does NOT grow on trees. Mine was four years of real work!!! And the rest are from the State of California!!! How do y’all suppose y’all are surviving? Huh? It’s the same Satanic regime that y’all are complaining and whining about for years! Do y’all think I’m proud of that truth? No! Do y’all wanna continue feeding each other with monies from this state? Go figure.

Dear diary,

I do NOT care much for blogging. But sometimes the narcissist unto moi wishes to blog about much observation.

I noticed for a while and in my old blog that a choir girl who recently celebrated her 18th birthday (last Saturday), would frown in consternation and horizontal lines would form upon her forehead like a reptilian.

Also, I could sense that strong energy while she performed on a high school stage when she scowled forward onto the crowd. And speaking of high school stage shows, my old high school also tolerates the freaks.

The male actors so young and thin or fat who act all girly and dress in girl outfits! I was outraged but the tickets were eight dollars. The women actors acted tough and would send a message that women can do stuff like men.

Another message that I did NOT like was that the whitish humanz in a recent high school stage show were portrayed as controlling their cameras in favor of whitish over the minorities.

So my old high school has lots of smart humanz but they are tolerating freaks to spew forth their narratives to accept the opposite of what is established to be good for the community.

Which brings me to the unions and today’s burger lunch in which I ranted to my daddy that this temporary gig from hell, when hired for full-time placement, would pay for retirement.

But I emphasized to my daddy that the children, the future generations, are the ones who will fund these contracted old timers. I really do NOT care for working here. But I like the location and happy and friendly humanz.

I do NOT care for emails or phones or dealing with humanz. I want to do paper stuff, like scanning and archiving, a task which I am also messing up! WTF! I want to fire myself and quit without notice.

I am so disappointed in my focus and honestly, though I realistically would need a job, I do NOT want a job. Though I like earning money, I know that it’s gonna go away as it comes in, a generational karma of gamblers from my daddy’s parents. Yup.

So I was ranting to my daddy that charity is another disguised and rebranded work to cover up parasitism – that freeloaders, like myself won’t appreciate the stuff but would squander, break, and waste the charitable donations.

I know because I guess I allowed it to happen. But no more. I’m gonna hold that sword over my head and yours to keep us in check.

Sincerely,

Flynn B pissed that I’m still messing up in spite of slowing down to ensure accuracy at work and spiritually.

Dear diary,

With regards to the JA, I’ve NOT been following your narratives. I’m finished, because y’all refuse to change. Y’all will never change. Y’all thrive on narratives and dreams while stuck on this hellish planet.

I smell something fishy as we are eating fish. I liked the frozen tilapia, but NOT so much the Mahi-Mahi, which is tougher like a chicken and probably meant to be for larger denizens of the seas.

Anyway, I didn’t like how y’all were parading JA. I only saw the same mug shot or two of his sporting a beard, which is probably a good disguise over a bad actor, which I mentioned in my OLD blog as probably being an operative FISHING for data from complainers and whiners.

And as such, if they really wanted him to hush up, they had all the chance to hire a sniper or spike his drink with powdery draught. I am NOT afraid with my truth, which are scanned and pieces of papers that are meaningless.

Likewise, those who serve as FISHERS of men serve as FISHING bait, to weed the liars from the truthers. I believe those liars will receive their Sheol. Then again, I’m still thinking they are protecting whatever is illegal and immoral.

I ranted to my daddy that there is really no secret that which cannot be revealed. Those who have secrets are too embarrassed with their private stuff and so they are forced to lie and cover up, whatever manipulation necessary to keep the lies, much like dreams, alive.

I’ll have to believe DJT and that anything narratives pushed out online are FAKE NEWS. I ranted to my daddy that anything out there is fake and a HUGE or elaborate stage show in religion and politics.

So I was tempted to set my blog from Private mode to Public mode. But I guess my stuff do NOT seem to matter as the spooks pushed down my stuff way on the bottom, being that my blog is a rant.

With regards to fake information, lots do NOT have evidence. I have LOTS of evidence but this State of California protects crazy and stupid humanz, which is why I lost faith in religion, legal, and politics.

Y’all do NOT care for anyone except your pieces of papers, your jobs, your monies, and all that for lying to each other. Y’all are feeding your children lies. And in turn they will lie unto y’all, spiking your heads and feet.

Sincerely,

Flynn B eating frozen fish smelly stuff because we do NOT know how to cook.

Now I remember what the other manifestation resulted. Two days ago a staff member (a shorter Chinese with eyeglasses) was shredding paper at the loud machine. I projected my angry energy and followed up with a nice banishing prayer. The machine stopped several times. I mumbled under my breath: I warned you. I don’t know. But that’s why I prefer staying at home so no one can get hurt. Yup. I guess the Lawd Gawd does know what is best for each of us.

Which brings me to another thought about my forgotten purposes. Oh, oh! I was being sad and a chemtrail formed directly overhead at my home. I looked skyward and it formed. I would assume that the chemtrailer is totally interconnected with my co-existence that the chemtrails would manifest as a reminder to look skyward where heaven and the Lawd Gawd resides. Yup.

So I am attempting to use blocks, which is fine. During my forum boredoms, I forgot what I requested from the Happiness Engineers, but I think, like the Lawd Gawd, seem to have fulfilled my thoughts. So now I get to use block, click and drag the stuff up or down, and save the new edits without copying and pasting text the old-fashioned way.

Dear diary,

I arrived home and expected my daddy to be ready to eat dinner. But, no! He’s taking his Thursday evening shower for the weekly choir rehearsal. He can neither read not sing music and has decided last October 2018 to join my choir group! But I have rationalized that the Lawd Gawd answered my prayers as:

• There needed to be more male voices. (Das Squirrel attended Sunday choir mass and told unto moi that the choir sounded good, which I relayed to the swollen, gout-filled choir leader, who then smiled widely during Monday’s choir rehearsal.)
• I wanted to avoid the females. (I felt more comfortable sitting away from the double-doors nearest the Crying Room and Choir Box due to past incidences with Respondent. My nerves will never seem to heal. I didn’t want to sit next to the hugging traitor or hear their gossips, too.)
• I have less anxiety attacks. (When my daddy accompanies me at night, and I do NOT like driving at night due to poor visibility behind my small wireless eyeglasses and various light reflections, I’m more calm.)

With that said, the two remaining bluish parakeets are looking for Mister Mel. I can see panic in Mister Alpo’s eyeballs and Miss Alfie is probably more relaxed and just as clueless, after having moved their cage close to the sliding back door to see my daddy and I buring the last of the Persimmon lineage.

Before I forget my two thoughts from a few days ago:

• Q-Tips is the magic wand! (I was enjoying the power of this cleaning device into my ear hole when I received that incoming thought.)
• Spare ribs are the cloned wives of Adam! (I was thinking to myself and received this incoming imagery.)

With regards to this Q-anonymous character or groups representing unnecessary noise thereof, I will Define ‘Bait’ via the 8ch.net qresearch res 5967167 html 5967516 post: this has to do with Respondent and nothing else. Duh. Once again, my personal blog, which is still set to Private mode, is mainly personal stuff. Get with the program humanz! I have not Intel as my letter grade average is between Be-Positive and below average. Sheesh.

First, the newly ordained Deacon has been giving the Sermon. And Chuck a choir member who sits in front of us, wrote a joke about his observation:

Q: Why is the Deacon giving the sermons? A-written in Filipino: Because the Priest is lazy. Two other choir members chuckled including my daddy. I do NOT understand male jokes.

Second, both the Deacon and Priest are mentioned in our pieces of paper regarding Respondent.

Third, their sermons are mainly directed unto moi, meaning I gotta avoid taking the bait – Respondent would trigger emotional responses unto Victim (which is moi‚, push the limits of her liabilities, and end up dragging my name, territory and whatnots down the road to perdition.

With that said, the detective wanted evidence, which I replied. So I’m staying in Private mode, when and if I ever do get hired in this temp job from hell, after which I might resume my public rant, which is futile because only the two cat lovers seems to be following my crap.

Furthermore, I wonder if Q is that jester, or if that D is the one and the same. Hmm. What are the mathematical possibilities that my stuff, which is supposed to be set into Private mode, is reflected in his WordPress-powered site. Hmm.

I have NOT been following mainstream media or anything newsworthy. And I discovered that my nerves are less rattled and I’m less anxious and worried, and I have time to relax and stay calm.

I rationalized that this hellish planet will never change and that humanz will remain evil.

Sincerely,

Flynn B unconcerned for events that seem to repeat themselves, only repackaged with different branding and such.

RIP Mister Mel!

Haz crying.

Buried before sundown. My daddy was shovel ready when we discovered him inside his aquarium.

I asked the jester’s God this day and my mommy this evening to fetch Mister Mel so his suffering won’t be prolonged after suffering elderly leg fractures from his birth disability of incomplete feather growths.

I don’t care anymore.