#jaques really fucked up his daughter

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

I don't even understand why just Ironwood was depicted as being evil in the council. Do the writers know that the reason the world is so fucked up is because there are multiple people in power who are awful and against the rights of marginalized people? Do they not realize that even if all of our authorities at the moment were good people, oppressive systems will still exist and getting rid of one bad person who takes advantage of them is not going to fix those systems? And why are there only five people on the council anyway? What do they do? Why is this dictatorship government so damn small? Why couldn't the plot be about the main characters ACTUALLY helping mantle because the vast majority of those in power are refusing to? It would have been so easy! Just think:

(long ass rewrite warning)

Jaques is already on the council by the time the main characters get there, and he's the main villain of the volume. His goal is to get rid of Ironwood because he already doesn't like him and he wants to get revenge for Ironwood cutting off his money supply and stealing his daughter. Watts is working with him, helping Jaques achieve his goals by stealing information to help make Ironwood look bad to the council, but he also wants to get rid of Ironwood because Ironwood is the only person who is capable of helping to defeat Salem.

The lead characters get split up into a few different plots. Blake discovers that the tensions between the Faunus and Humans in Mantle are extremely high due to Jaques monopolizing more businesses in response to the Embargo and causing a job shortage. She spends most of her time trying to peacefully work things out with them, trying to make sure that she's stopping Faunus subjugation in a non violent way that can create a better future for both faunus and humans.

Yang will spend her time with Penny and Pietro, learning about prosthetics and deal with some of the lingering trauma which Pietro, a man who works with amputees daily as a profession, will give her some clinical advice and also hint at an Ironwood backstory.

Weiss will decide to help take down her father and try to learn more about what he's doing in an attempt to stop him. She will meet May Marigold, who is still with her family, but using her position as an atlas elite to allow the happy Huntresses to steal dust and money from the rich and give these supplies to the poor down in mantel. (In this version of the story, Robyn Hill will be more like Eda Clawthorn from TOH) seeing someone in a high position using her position to help the poor, Weiss is inspired to try to fit back in with her family, going under cover to get to the bottom of Jaques's scheme (and also allowing her to see her mother and brother in a new light and reconnect with them without forgiving her mother immediately and treating her brother worse than her father treated her)

And finally, Ruby, Oscar, and Qrow will be with Ironwood. He will primarily want to speak with them because he views them as the most important in regards to the war. Seeing as how Oscar is Ozpin, Qrow is part of the original inner circle, and Ruby has silver eyes, which he believes will be important in his plan to defeat Salem. They will interact with Ironwood the most, and have a bunch of meetings both with him and without him to discuss their feelings on the situation.

I'm going to keep Ruby lying to Ironwood. I will have her hypocrisy be known, or have her be the only character that really understood why Oz would lie and is having a semi corruption arc because main characters should be allowed to make mistakes. I would even say that she doesn't actually lie about the lamp, but she doesn't tell him about Salem's immortality. The others call her out on lying by omission, but she explains her reasoning is because she recognizes that Ironwood's plan is being created under the impression that he thinks that Salem can be killed and she's afraid that if he knew the truth, he would stop working on the plan and then they won't be able to unite humanity anymore. (I don't mind Ruby making a mistake and lying to her ally, what I mind is that the show doesn't seem to realize she made a mistake and she never has a good reason for doing it)

The reason I want to keep her lying about the Lamp is because I think that Salem should be able to manipulate Ironwood into thinking that Team RWBY is actually against him and working for her. That way Salem will still be the big bad who is turning humanity against each other, and Team RWBY is right, but in a bad situation due to their own mistakes making them less trustworthy, and Ironwood isn't evil, just being manipulated by the main bad guy.

And then Vol 8 will have Team RWBY trying to fight Grimm hordes while avoiding atlas soldiers who think they're traitors, and trying to get through to Ironwood and get him back on their side while Ruby does whatever it takes to make up for her mistake.

Boom.

(couldn't think of what JNR should be doing because I don't care)

Hey anon!! It's very lazy and careless of CRWBY to insist that ONE person is responsible for all of Atlas's problems and the peoples suffering. Life never works that way. It is caused by an overall failure of many people failing to stop corruption and one good person cannot magically fix that. Star Wars TCW handles an arc like this a million percent better with Satine discovering corruption after corruption within Mandalore making things worse for the citizens and it becomes very difficult for her to know who to trust. We could have had something similar with James, have him not sure if he can trust the council and needing the Ace Ops and Winter and Penny as the only people he can trust because he doesn't know who Jacques owns vs who is just in general a terrible person vs who is trustworthy and really wants to make things better.

As for your ideas I really like them a lot! Actually give some fucking character development to the mains! I am not crazy about Blake's arc with the Faunus but CRWBY has handled it so poorly I am not sure how to better handle it but outside of that everything sounds really good!

I agree Ruby lying isn't necessarily a bad thing, the show just needs to acknowledge that Ruby did in fact make a mistake in lying. It is okay for a character to make mistakes and screw up and have a need to learn and grow. It actually makes a character more relatable because it humanizes them and makes them feel alive.

Also YES PLEASE we need to see Salem being an actual threat and manipulating things from behind the scenes. Make her someone dangerous and an actual threat because the show as is has only done things to make her less threatening. We should also be making Ruby actually be the light of Remnant who will unite everyone and what better place to start then the person she betrayed and caused a massive divide between them. Their was just so much missing in volumes 7 and 8 and so much that was mishandled and not used well. I like a lot of volume 7 but their were still major flaws within the script.

It's sad how easy it would be to fix so many problems but CRWBY just.....didn't.

#RWDE #james ironwood #ironwood protection squad #pro james ironwood #pro ironwood #general ironwood #general dadmiral #dadmiral ironwood

[yangscutebutt]

Whiterose- wiess is nice

*getting back from a mission*

Weiss: You didnt do bad today!

*pats rubys back*

Ruby: *gawks mouth wide*

Weiss: what? You weren’t totally incompetent!

Ruby: Weiss? What are you- are these supposed to be compliments!!?

Weiss: *breathes air through her braced teeth* Are they not?

#rwby #rwby whiterose #whiterose #jaques really fucked up his daughter #weiss doesnt know how to be supportive because no one was supportive for her #wiess schnee #ruby rose #weiss x ruby #ruby x weiss #rwby hc #rwby incorrect quotes #incorrect rwby quotes #incorrect whiterose quotes

[theseerasures]

Huh. Winter's trick of coming in from the blindside fits eldest daughter of abusive father doesn't it. (Glances at her saving Marrow). And with Ironwood and Jaques both dead there's a thematic pulling of Winter no longer needing the trick she learned to deal with that situation. Of Penny's gift meaning she doesn't need to hide. There is however a plot/character complications. Vacuo probably would prefer Winter being the hidden number two. And Winter not knowing how to stand in the light constant

yep!!! Winter’s Big Sister Instinct prompts her to hurl herself bodily at danger to protect her loved ones (see also: Yang Xiao Long), but with Winter that’s paired with the Abused Kid Instinct, which is to go unseen and unheard as much as possible. and we see from Ultimatum that Winter has never really been able to reconcile the two: when put in a situation where she doesn’t need to come to anyone’s rescue because all eyes are already on her, she...freezes, because she’s terrified but still operating on the principle that she can’t put this on any of her subordinates and peers.

the fact of the matter is that Winter is not a tank, on the battlefield or off--her ability to come in from the blindside comes mostly from the fact that people assume she’s already been neutralized, that she’ll stay down after getting beaten. but as Enemy of Trust most definitely shows, Winter always ends up playing...whatever the opposite of the Wounded Gazelle Gambit is, where she just fucking gets back up and charges back into the fray. and Ultimatum through Creation is about the non-lethal version of that--Ironwood assumed Winter had been thoroughly humbled and chastised, only for her to slice his dignity to shreds. hell, even the Maidenbowl during Final Word worked in a similar way: i don’t think Cinder planned the minutiae of “Watts go set Ironwood free so he’ll kill That Pesky Schnee,” but Winter WAS meant to be delayed indefinitely one way or another.

but she wasn’t, and the reason she wasn’t is the same reason as with Penny during Enemy of Trust, and with Marrow during Risk: to save her family. so getting the Maiden powers--and its subsequent aftermath--puts Winter in a double bind. first, and as you say, it’s impossible for her to escape attention now (from Cinder, at least. i don’t think Salem cares that much), so she has to live with being the center of attention all the time. and she’d be able to cope with that, thanks to the Maiden powers making it harder to knock her down, except for the second part, which is that this time when Winter rushed in to save her sister, when she had more power than she ever wished for TO save her sister...she couldn’t. Penny saved Winter (and then again), Weiss saved Penny (and then again), and Winter couldn’t save Weiss.

so going forward Winter has two directions to take this: she could default to what she’s supposed to espouse, that the mission should come first and if she believes that her life doesn’t matter then she has to accept that other individuals don’t matter either. or she could double down on what she already believes, which is that she alone should be the bulwark against all the evils her loved ones might face, that the problem with what happened with Weiss and Penny is that she wasn’t strong enough or fast enough or good enough to hold evil’s attention, to bear the brunt of its attack.

so she’ll be better at that next time. she has to, for Penny and for Weiss.

#Anonymous #rwby #winter schnee #i mean i say 'two directions' but what's mostly likely is a nightmarish recombination of the two #the atlesian hero is dead long live the atlesian hero

[1fightingfrenchman]

Hamilton Concept

M'kay but hear me out- Disney/Descendants Hamilton AU

Lafayette as Naveens' kid and he has this atrocious lil frog that stays in his pocket and licks everyone

Alexander as Belle's and he invents shit and has a back pack for his horse that carries everything. Also an acceptable Flynn Rider boy

Hercules from Cinderella's story but there needs to be some sort of correlation with Gus Gus and Jaques as well

John as Jack Sparrow's kid and all you ever hear are sea shanties and he smells like the ocean

Jefferson as Kuzco's kid and he has all the sass and a llama that he trained to spit at people

Madison as like- either some type of Eeyore and Piglet personality combo or Ian Lightfoot's which I think would be cute as hell. Also, Wall-E and Eve's as an option

Eliza as Honey Lemons and she teams up with Alex with the agreement if anything goes wrong, he gets the blame

Peggy as Alice or the Chesire cat's and she just- causes so much chaos

Angelica as Nani's or Lilo's kid would just be so fucking cute, badass women

Maria as Sleeping Beauty's kid or that one sexy fish or even disgust's daughter

Burr- I want Burr associated with the Jungle Book but I also want him as Genie's kid, yet another part of me wants him as the Voodoo man

King George can be Simba's. 🎵GONNA BE A MIGHTY KING🎵 or the other, sexier lion from the sequel

Seabury as like- Carl and Ellie's kid or that guy from treasure island

Eacker as buzz lightyear or woody. Tbh I have no idea where to place him I'm sorry

Philip as Rapunzel's and he rebels a bit and spray paints shit but it looks great

Charles Lee- I want him as Elsa's for reasons but he would also make a fun Bagheera Baloo or Kaa

George Washington- Robin hood or some fancy king man like the beast or even Mr. incredible. Also Sully???

Now this is in no way well thought out and evidently there's some kinks with the whole species thing but I'm thinking as human representations here. It's just my opinion but some of these I really like and others I'm not too passionate about so if you have any other suggestions please let me know!

#disney #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #hercules mulligan #marquis de lafayette #crossover idea #seaburysfreethoughts #john laurens #james madison #aaron burr #eliza schuyler #angelica schuyler #peggy schuyler #charles whee #philip hamilton #george eacker #george washington

[animebw]

Short Reflection: RWBY Volume 7

There’s something so comforting about a story you know you can trust to be good. Every year brings a whole new slate of media to experience for the first time, and you take a chance on every single one of them. Some will impress you, some will frustrate you, some will delight you, some will enrage you, and there’s no real way to tell for sure which ones will be worth your time until you actually watch them. But every once in a while, you run into that franchise that keeps putting out good installments year in, year out, because the people behind its creation are just basically damn competent at their jobs. And in a world as increasingly chaotic as this one, those trustworthy franchises are a godsend. As much as I enjoy the experience of diving into new shows and exploring what they have to offer, sometimes, you just need that show you know you can fall back on. That show you know will deliver on likable characters, fun spectacle, and an interesting plot that goes in engrossing directions. That show you know, at a base level, will leave you satisfied and happy after finishing an episode no matter what. It takes a hell of a lot of skill to build that kind of trust with an audience, and as such, I value the few that pull it off about as high as I possibly can. Thank fucking god for the shows we can always trust to at least be good enough.

And it still amazes me that I can count RWBY among the list of franchises I afford this trust to. Who would have thought that Monty Oum’s scrappy little passion project, a haphazard amalgam of a million different anime tropes mashed together in a blender and emulsified with janky animation, would grow into such a goddamn colossus? That a franchise which started off so unfinished and amateurish would become not just a genuinely great fantasy adventure, but one of the defining animated properties of modern fan culture? I don’t know about you, but any world where that kind of achievement is possible is a world I want to live in. RWBY is living proof of the ultimate fanboy’s dream: that with enough attention, love and care, your dreams really are within your reach. I am in awe of how far this show has come, how far it still has to go, how it continues to push the boundaries of Western and Eastern animation ethos to create something truly daring, bold, and important. So even though Volume 7 is nowhere near as flawless as the crowning achievement that was Volume 6, I can still trust RWBY to have a baseline level of quality that pushes all the right buttons and keeps me coming back hungry for more. And that’s an achievement worth celebrating.

In terms of plot, Volume 7 picks up directly following Volume 6′s cliffhanger ending: with our heroes arriving in Atlas and landing smack dab in the middle of a simmering political crisis. Remnant’s northernmost kingdom is starkly divided between the haves and have-nots, with the rich and powerful lording it up in the floating city of Atlas itself while the poor and disenfranchised struggle to make do in the streets of Mantle below. There’s an upcoming council election, and with the Grimm pressing harder and harder against the city walls, cracks are rapidly spreading through the already unstable foundation, threatening to plunge the entire city into chaos. Team RWBY and their extended posse warily allies with General Ironwood to try and keep the peace, but as tensions spike even further, it becomes harder and harder to know what the right thing to do is. Should they stick with Ironwood, whose long-term plans for Salem’s defeat threaten to sacrifice the people of Mantle for the greater good? Should they break rank and ally with the revolutionary Robyn Hill, a voice for the people who will stop at nothing to hold the powers that be accountable? Can they trust the Ace-Ops, Ironwood’s elite squad of professional huntsmen and huntresses who they train and fight beside? What about Weiss’ family; how will Jaques take his runaway daughter’s return? Will Winter, finally getting a chance to appear after volume 3, end up friend or foe? And with Salem’s machinations growing ever closer, will our heroes find a way to triumph over the fear that threatens to swallow them whole?

In case you couldn’t tell from that summary, there’s a lot going on in this volume. A lot of characters old and new who all have their own journeys to undertake, a lot of plot threads shuffling around, a lot of big thematic ideas about love and trust and fear and who we become when faced with choices that don’t have easy answers. And if there’s a reason it’s ultimately not as good as volume 6, it’s because it feels like a lot of corners were cut to make it all fit. For just a small example, the first episode ends with our heroes basking in the afterglow of saving Mantle from a nasty Grimm attack, only for their triumph to be cut short when the Ace-Ops show up to arrest them. They’re spirited away to Atlas, but Maria is left behind with an old friend. And we don’t see her again until the gang visits her six episodes later, a period of time in which there was plenty of opportunity to check in on her before, but for some reason it isn’t even touched on. We don’t even get Maria’s reaction to them getting arrested in the first place; the way the scene plays out, it looks like she and her old friend are wandering a few paces away from the rest of the gang, but then she apparently vanishes once the Ace-Ops show up and that’s the last we see of her for days- possibly weeks- on end. There’s no moment where the gang checks in with her in the aftermath of that scuffle and reassures her they’re okay, which wouldn’t even take much time to portray, so it feels like the show just erases her from existence once she leaves the frame until it’s time for her to be relevant again.

Now, that’s just a single moment, but it’s evidence of a larger problem throughout this volume that never quite goes away. The setups and payoffs for character arcs, plot elements and the like are pretty solid for the most part, but the connective tissue necessary to flesh them out sometimes feels lacking. Ren seems like he’s starting to develop an unhealthy devotion to Ironwood’s law-and-order approach, but then that thread is dropped and he slips into the background for the entire second half, even as the plot goes in directions that you would think would affect that side of him. Salem’s machinations result in another character being framed for crimes they didn’t commit and the people turning against them, just like Yang back in volume 3, but we don’t really spend any time exploring the effects that has on them before it’s resolved. And with so many different characters to focus on, there’s not enough time to give their everyday lives the same lived-in texture and sense of dimension they had in Volume 6. It prioritizes the new relationships formed between our central cast and the new faces they encounter in Atlas (or, in the case of Ironwood and Winter, old faces who haven’t been around for a while), which is a smart decision to make sure we’re able to empathize with all the new players, but there’s so damn many of them that there’s no time left for, say, Ruby and Weiss interacting, or Jaune getting much to do, or really digging into the meat of how this increasingly desperate situation is affecting Team RWBY as a team. Even with how long the episodes this volume are, consistently clocking in around 19 minutes, it feels like they could all afford to be 3 or 4 minutes longer just to comfortably fit everything in and flesh out the complexities behind all these moving pieces. Maybe if we had that extra time, the story could have done a better job justifying why a certain... controversial late-game event ended up happening the way it did.

But for all the scattered frustrations I have with this volume, I always come back to what I mentioned right at the start of this review: at a fundamental level, RWBY’s just really damn good at being good. Even if Volume 7 isn’t as perfectly polished and crafted as Volume 6 was, Miles, Kerry, and the rest of their team have such a solid grasp by now on what this show is that you can still expect a baseline level of quality from it. The cinematography and visuals haven’t just fully recovered from the post-Monty slump at this point, they’re the best the show has ever looked. Every single camera angle is packed with meaning, every single action scene is a supersonic spectacle of incredible animation and choreography, the colors are all gorgeous, and the subtle character animation that bring these characters to life are only getting better and better. Under the careful craft of animators who’ve been steadily improving for seven years straight, the world of Remnant has never felt more alive, more vibrant, more full of possibility. I cannot overstate how impressed I continue to be with Rooster Teeth’s dedication to pushing the limits on what this show can accomplish. Even the issues I have with this volume’s writing are still a product of an incredible ambition to keep getting better, to make bold choices, to keep expanding the definition of what this story is capable of achieving. And I’ll always respect an over-ambitious attempt over a timid half-measure any day of the week.

Because man, when that ambition pays off, it really pays off, and the stuff that’s good this volume is really fucking good. I love how difficult the situation is for our heroes to parse, how Ruby finds herself trying to square the gap between what’s best and what’s right. I love how Ironwood constantly struggles to figure out if his plan to stand against Salem is worth all the human toll necessary to accomplish it. I love how Team RWBY finds themselves drawn in different directions as they try to figure out what the right call is in a situation with no obvious right answer. I love the way Winter develops into a fully realized character after her far-too-brief appearance in Volume 3, and all the ways her and Weiss’ ongoing struggle with the Schnee name continues to inform the paths they take and the people they’ve left behind. I love a certain other returning character who I will refrain from spoiling just in case, who I wasn’t expecting to ever show up again and ended up stealing the entire goddamn volume with their journey to self-actualization. I love how Ren and Nora’s relationship develops in complicated and difficult ways. And ye fucking gods, I could spend an entire paragraph gushing about how utterly wonderful Bumbleby continues to be. Every second Yang and Blake share on screen a gift. Every moment they share left me with a big dumb smile on my face. I still can’t believe we got a romantic subplot this fucking spectacular out of the show where Iceberg was once a thing. That, my friends, is what you call growth.

And it’s that growth that keeps me coming back to RWBY time and time again. This scrappy little show has defied the odds time and time again, growing from one man’s passion project into a franchise juggernaut that continues to redefine what Western animation is capable off. This show isn’t just good for what it is or good in spite of itself, it’s genuinely damn good, even when it’s not as good as it has the potential to be. So for all my issues, all the moments and ideas that could stand to breathe and flex a little more, RWBY volume 7 is still a rousing success, and I can’t wait where the ending cliffhanger takes us next year. And I give it a score of:

7/10

And now, we wait for Volume 8. It’s gonna be a long hiatus, folks, but we’ll get through it together. Just, please, for the love of god, nobody bring back Yorse. That’s all I ask. Best of luck, and I’ll see you around.

#rwby #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #rwby sr #anime #rwby volume 7 #rwby7 #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake bellodona #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #qrow branwen #clover ebi #james ironwood #bumbleby #renora #tyrian callows #arthur watts #maria calavera #robyn hill #penny polendina #cinder fall #pietro polendina #winter schnee #willow schnee #jaques schnee

[malvoliowithin]

Shakespeare Plays Explained Badly

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Fairy divorce court causes everything in the vicinity to go to hell, briefly.

A Comedy of Errors: Don't give your twins the same name. Seriously don't.

As You Like It: No one actually likes anything that is occurring. Especially not Jaques.

Twelfth Night: Local pageboy causes everyone to catch Gay Feelings. Also multiple shipwrecks.

Much Ado About Nothing: Random bastard decides to cause problems for literally no reason other than because he is a dick.

Two Gentlemen of Verona: One gentleman is not actually a gentleman, he's a grade-A turdwaffle.

Love's Labors Lost: Four friends' attempts to swear off love go about as well as you would expect

The Merry Wives of Winsor: SO I HEAR U LIKE FALSTAFF??

The Taming of the Shrew: Sometimes the best cure for a mean wife is just straight-up sexism. (Actually no wtf why)

All's Well That Ends Well: Nothing is well and it ends kinda shittily, too.

The Merchant of Venice: Apparently the entire population of Venice is either dumb, shitty, or Portia. Or Jessica.

Measure for Measure: Undercover Boss: Vienna Edition

Richard II: Local king forced to actually face consequences for his actions. Doesn't like it much.

Henry IV part 1: TURN DOWN FOR WHAT interluded by existential kingly guilt. Also Hotspur

Henry IV part 2: The boring part because no Hotspur and no TURN DOWN FOR WHAT. Just guilt and guys with stupid names.

Henry V: Fun manly bonding as France gets fucked over

Henry VI part 1: Let's Screw France Part 2 feat. Joan of Arc

Henry VI part 2: A bunch of murders and Everything Has Gone to Shit Now nice job breaking it, Henry.

Henry VI, part 3: YORK YORK YORK YORK also a bunch of murders, part 2.

Richard III: Once there was a Duke of Gloucester. He was so ugly that everyone died. The End

Henry VIII: You'd think think the betrayal of a queen and befuckening of the church would be really non-boring but you would be wrong

King John: No one knows what's happening. Not me, not you, certainly not Johnny. I guess an entire king dies or something idk

Romeo and Juliet: Local teenage fling ends in six deaths and a banishment. Authorities are baffled

Macbeth: If you don't sleep you become a murderer I don't make the rules also if witches are nearby... you're fucked.

Hamlet: Danish prince should have just called Ghostbusters

Othello: And you thought your racist coworker was a pain in the ass

King Lear: Local shitty dad amazed that all his kids turned out shitty. How could this happen.

Julius Caesar: Fun male bonding exercise devolves into civil war and multiple accounts of suicide

Antony and Cleopatra: Two-year fling devolves into civil war and multiple accounts of suicide

Coriolanus: Local war devolves into civil war and - just kidding it's actually about Coriolanus ruining everything by being unable to shut his piehole for two seconds

Timon of Athens: Don't Have Friends: A Cautionary Tale

Titus Andronicus: Blood, death, murder, death, human sacrifice, rape, death, dismemberment, cannibalism, death, and a partridge in a pear tree

Troilus and Cressida: Title characters are actually the most boring part of the play

Pericles: It's like a fairy tale except less magic and more nonsense. And brothels I guess idk

Cymbeline: Twenty three different plot lines and none of them go anywhere

The Winter's Tale: Local asshole king fucks with nature so NATURE FUCKS RIGHT BACK

The Tempest: The heartwarming tale of a wizard, his weird magical bird slave, his daughter, a drunk fish guy, some murderers, and a whole lot of wood gathering

#misc #ALL the plays

[rwby-analysis]

ship: snowflake in the rough

when or if I started shipping it. Honestly never thought about those until… not long ago. Read some headcanons that sounded nice, so not really shipping it but also not against it.

my thoughts: I mean do they even meet once? But it’s one of those crackships that might work really well in fanfics. Definitely depends on who writes them because there is literally no canon interaction to work with. 

What makes me happy about them: Weiss introducing Emerald to her father. “Hello father, this is my girlfriend Emerald, a former thief and criminal, who I am in a gay relationship with.” I’d really like to see his face when he finds out. 

What makes me sad about them: That Emerald had so little affection and love in her life it was easy for Cinder to manipulate her. That Emerald probably has a horribly sad past.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: That there is no fanfic about Weiss introducing Emerald to her father as her girlfriend.

Things I look for in fanfic: Jaques Schnee losing it over the thought of Emerald dating is daughter and Weiss not giving a single fuck. 

My kinks: I’m so ace what even is a kink.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Hard to say. I don’t really ship Weiss or Emerald with anyone, but as long as it’s not Cinder… 

My happily ever after for them: Emerald as the wife of the president of the Schnee Dust Company and Jaques realising that there’s nothing he can do about it.

#rwby #ask #rwby ships #rwby shipping #snowflake in the rough #emerald sustrai #weiss schnee

[dylanissicc]

XPWEW All or Nothing 2019

⚡️XPWEW All or Nothing 2019

Hammerstein Ballroom

New York, NY

July 28th, 2019

Commentary: Joey Styles and Kandi Khaos

Opening Video Package:

Song: Nothing to You by Twiztid

Showcases the feuds of Priscilla, Regina Clausen, Troy Clausen and Audrey Carbine then Slayer vs Moxley then the Case Your Luck match then Edwards vs Awesome

Will Olaffub gets his own entrance to no music and a chorus of cheers which is completely bizarro. But that’s the Hammerstein Ballroom for you!

Eddie Edwards enters first as the challenger to a big reaction. A “Fuck him up Eddie fuck em up *clap clap*” chants that resonates throughout the Ballroom. Edwards salacious smile as he feels he has home turf. Edwards even starts jaw jacking with Casey Alfonso sitting in the front row.

Jake Awesome enters to a mixed reaction. Chants of “Fuck Jake Awesome” clashing with “Awesome Sucks”

Awesome even stops halfway down the aisle way to notice a fan in full on Captain Falcon gear

Quote: Joey Styles “I’ve had the pleasure to call every single Jake Awesome World Title match and tonight something feels at jeopardy”

M1: XPWEW World Heavyweight Title

Sixty Minute Ironman Match

Jake Awesome (c) vs Eddie Edwards

Creative chants throughout this match go:

* Captain Falcon clap clap clap clap

* Fuck him Eddy fuck him up

* Fuck Jake Awesome

* Awesome Sucks

* We Love Olaffub clap clap clap

* Chris Benoit chant

* They start doing Nakamura’s theme song chant for some reason

* Yes there will be beach balls

After 27 minutes of action Awesome gets his Awesome Bomb countered as Edwards absorbs the impact and rolls hum into a crossface and Awesome taps out

Edwards is up 1-0 with 33 minutes to go

About 8 minutes later Awesome connects a big splash for the top and a slow pinfall gets him the 1-2-3

It’s now tied 1-1 with 25 minutes left

19 minutes pass without a fall and Edwards starts to show his desperation and tells Olaffub to hit awesome with a weapon, it’ll get him disqualified and cost him a point but maybe he can catch up and make it even before time expires. Will Olaffub hits Awesome with a steel chair and it doesn’t even phase Awesome and the ref awards a point to Jake for that DQ making it 2-1 Jake up; Casey Alfonso gets fed up with Ollafub’s subtle remarks to him at ringside the whole night and he jumps the rail and tackles Ollafub and starts to wail on him and Jake pulls him off but the ref deducts a point from Jake as a DQ making it 1-1 now after all that about 5 minutes remain. Edwards starts to get some chain Olympic style wrestling on Jake to make the time expire but Jake starts to outwrestle him quite a bit and somehow Edwards locks in the crossface with about 2:35 left. Awesome powers out and lifts up to his feet meanwhile Edwards still has his crossface haphazardly allpied Jake drops him outside onto the thin mat outside the ring. Jake goes to the ropes, Suicide Dive connects and Jake rolls Edwards in the ring Edwards seems done, Jake covers 1-2 KICKOUT! 40 seconds remain and Jake hits a quick awesome bomb and this time that’s enough for the 1-2-3. Jake then dumps Edwards out to the outside of the ring landing on the exposed concrete and Edwards can’t get up as 19 seconds slowly expire. Awesome wins 2-1 and still the XPWEW World Heavyweight Champion

Winner: Jake Awesome 2-1

Awesome celebrates and begins a proper Hey Hey Hey Nah Nah Nah Nah goodbye chant. Edwards scowls at Jake and walks off with the crowd hitting him with that chant. The crowd play made this seemingly long match a lot more enjoyable. Well paced

Promo: Heatwave 2019 commercial

Song: Born to raise Hell by Crazy Town

Charlotte North Carolina

Sunday August 18th, 2019

Doxy Deity and Toni Storm enter followed by Amy Lee then Kiera Hogan with Rosemary. Enter Genevalisse who enters the ring to big fanfare now makes her debut! Based Fabian even introduces her himself

M2: 6 Woman Tag Elimination Match

Amy Lee, Rosemary & Kiera Hogan

vs

Doxy Deity, Toni Storm & Genevalisse

* Doxy, Toni and Genevalisse triple pin Amy Lee

* Rosemary eliminates Toni Storm

* Kiera Hogan rolls up Doxy Deity (her first pinfall victory in XPWEW finally)

* Genevalisse superkicks Rosemary and pins her

Now it’s down to Kiera Hogan and her long time Major League Wrestling rival opponent formerly known as Ivelisse going at it 1 on 1

* Genevalisse defeats Kiera and wins it for her team

Genevalisse, Toni and Doxy defeat Amy, Rosemary and Kiera Hogan. Kiera Hogan’s losing skid is over her and Rosemary jump for joy and even Based Fabian with his Juniorweight title comes out and puts it around the waist of Genevalisse congratulating her on her debut victory

Nick Simmonds Interviews the All Man; All Man asks where the fuck is Dr. Cube he’s running around in the shadow realm with the XPWEW No Limits Title But who cares I’m focused on tonight. My night. My show. Do you like the stage setup? I have a chance tonight. A chance albeit a chance split up between 8 people so that gives me realistically what a 12 and a half percent chance of victory tonight? Those odds aren’t great but I always have a plan A, Plan B even C.

Best 2 out of 3 Falls

M3: Champagne Clausen defeats GG with no help from the Freight Train which was a huge criticism from General Manager Romeo Roselli. Curt wins both falls in the contest 2-0 over GG! Curt Clausen is now 6-0! Troy Clausen comes in the ring and even says 6-0! 6-0! 6-0! Freight Train comes out and nervously asks for the mic, Troy graciously gives him the mic, sure Freight Train you are apart of the family. What did you want to say? Freight Train: since,,since he won the match two times I think that makes him Seven and Zero! Troy laughs! Yes! Yes! Yes! Seven and O!!!!!

Post Match Interview Champagne Clausen pops a bottle of Champagne and says his little sister Regina Clausen is going to become the women’s champ tonight!

M4: Chris Johnson defeats Dragon Kid and he’s now the #1 contender for the XPWEW Juniorweight Title (current champion Based Fabian)

Interview: Nick Simmonds is joined by Slayer. Slayer says this match is over a decade in the making. I’ve been wanting to see the myth that is John Moxley in that ring for so long. I knew one day he was gonna be in my ring. Now I’m gonna make him tap. And I will walk out of the Hammerstein Ballroom this infamous and beautiful venue with the IWGP United States Title in my hands

M5: XPWEW Tag Team Championships

Ruckus & Lexoni defeat Vinny Testaverde & Rondo in a bloodbath. Easily one of the best matches for Free Agency as a team.

nZo blood smeared in his face tried to talk but this Hammerstein Ballroom crowd can’t let him get a word in without some creative chants; “you may have won the battle but you smucks have not won the war”. Ruckus and Lexoni laugh it off holding their titles in the air!

M6: XPWEW World Women’s Championship

3 Way Dance

Priscilla Kelly retains the title defeating Regina Clausen and Audrey Carbine

Closing sequence Priscilla Kelly puts her tampon in Regina’s mouth causing Regina to forfeit. Curt Clausen tries to interfere and Audrey applies the art of ballistics on him and while she’s got the armbar applies Priscilla comes off the top rope with a steel chair straight to the face. Stuns her! Priscilla pins Audrey 1-2-3 for the win! The crowd goes insane! Priscilla is really over here!

Backstage: Troy Clausen is banging on the door of General Manager Romeo Roselli! Where in the god damn articles of confederation does it say anywhere that a medical, rag, sheep wool, sanitary Tampax pad can be used as a weapon. I know the books in here this used to be my filing cabinet you know that, and you probably moved all my shit around. Romeo listen Troy, were XPWEW. Fans can bring the weapons here ok there are no rules. A tampon while albeit disgusting and disturbingly unique is all fair. Troy: Oh fair? You know what’s not fair. This crowd. This sea of human waste throwing their garbage at my son and daughter. Think about that Romeo, human garbage flushing garbage at athletic royalty because of what? Jealousy. Is that fair? Is it fair that a jagaloon like Audrey Carbine thinks it’s fair to attack my son, who wasn’t even involved in the match. I’m sick of it. My daughter probably has HIV. And we’re gonna get here tested. Better than that we’re gonna test. Priscilla Kelly. And knowing your lifestyle Romeo you should consider a check up yourself. I’ll be back on Friday with a test and we’re gonna make some changes around here.

M7: Unsanctioned Match

IWGP United States Championship

Slayer vs Jon Moxley

Closing sequence: Jon Moxley has concocted this board taped with thornbushes and Mox Drops Slayer onto it from atop the ladder for the 1-2- kickout Slayer applies the helmed sharpshooter from the dead essentially and Moxley taps out

AND NEWWWWWWWW IWGP UNITED STATES CHAMPION THE DRAGONSLAYER. Moxley picks him up after and they both praise the audience!

M8: Case Your Luck Ladder Match

Golden Bryce vs Leonard McGraw vs Brodie Croyle vs 3M Ultra vs All Man vs Joe Gacy vs Based Fabian vs Jaques Dudley

Best High spots: Leonard McGraw lariat mid air off one ladder to a hanging 3M Ultra

Jaques and 3M hit side by side 630 splash off ladders onto Croyle and Joe Gacy But they both move out the way

Jocelyn Washington jumps the rail and tries to wake up Golden Bryce and Brodie Croyle grabs her and hits her with the Silent Echo and crowd pops huge. Croyle scales the ladder, Leonard McGraw tips the ladder slowly backward and Croyle does a sick no look bump falling onto A table. Unbelievable spot!!!! Leonard McGraw goes to climb the ladder (Dragon Kid and Ms. Ryu cheering him on, he hesitates to climb and Dragon Kid gives him the mask and he puts it on but that might of spent too much time because when he grabs the case up top he’s hit by some powder - like substance by this bust blonde woman wearing a milk man? I guess milk woman suit. The powder was a little distracting but then she pulls a flourscent light tube out of a belt holster and nails McGraw across the back. McGraw drops like a sack of potatoes and All Man in a raven taunt slump in the corner gets lifted up by this female and hoists him on the ladder, All Man regains consciousness enough to speed up the ladder and he unlocks the hook and wins the case Your Luck Ladder match! All Man is Mr. Case Your Luck

Winner: All Man thanks to a busty blonde female in a milk woman outfit. Who turns out to be Emma from WWE under a new name

After the match: Crowd is boo-ing throwing garbage and trash and this female grabs the mic and excitedly announces herself as Emma, Tenille Dashwood she is the ALL WOMAN!!

All Man and All Woman Walk up the ramp with smiles on their faces and they look at the entrance setup with basically a tribute to the All Man and they give each other this look and go to the right side and pull down a curtain to reveal a giant poster of All Woman as well. Great moment. What a debut. Show Ends

#fantasy #jake awesome #eddie edwards #all man #tenille dashwood #priscilla kelly #audrey carbine #regina clausen #slayer

[portavistoart-blog]

The Humanjuris II

The HumanJuris II by Peter and Flores Sandmu

The Chapter 1:  The Angel Walker, The Beast, el Honesty, The Dirty, Home, The Future

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVvHXYOxJCQ&t=0s&list=PLodd1p2roTc3Wu01Cd-vk4lE5h66uWkwV&index=4

     The human errorist, the human irish, Autumn 1868 with my son Make from my edge of the map, from The Vladivostok City, the gigantic sperm on the catch, the vegan clay and with the human soul.  Moreover the following year, The Father's Sarto, and the Fathers Sandmu and Hymu had already finished his talks, and Matte’s wives had already abated in his porch, his now, 1869.  Mastikov Eisley Eliakel had already recaptured St. Petersburg within his only daughter, and Giuseppe Sarto hadn't personally emerged within my totally Corps from the Mastikov to The In-Hospital Jerusalem later on.  Everybody else was all SU, all except for The Concordat to so soon to become.  In response, regarding The Vatican, the surprise point being made over the exclusivity, was to show who was cure.  As long as a someone could control without a leader's choosing, the leader would be kept subservient to that hierarchy, any house owner could control what was allowed in his house, and if no, he is no owner.  Father Sarto had been on a prostitute journey from The Venice, without a following of some students, God chosen.  The unseen part, as he saw it, was in the getting friends who weren’t on God’s list, to turn back before the inevitable pardon start day, and who was clean, and who wasn't, he just said he just knew it, and could feel it.  Unfortunately The Chart hadn't lost all of its states, a diminishing, and those who weren't opposed, weren't with The Rock Jerusalem and Mastikov to attempt to preserve The Concordat. Jonathan prayed like hell with and at The Rock, with two horns out of his Head like a devil, me marveled, married in castles just like always, and The Vatican made up for itself a new other other fornication, which was a down-confusing to elevate itself up to The Sky, or so Sarto had said that they had believed in that future, and Jack mistake, that he believed, no God.      Gig, so Hymu and Sandmu weren’t married either, and Mastikov’s tazina wasn't so fucked, a bot’ o’ vodka, done eight, their daughters Rivers and Elia, both Spanish, so fucked, Spanish, it just is not as uneasy, a subject, but with only one remedy.  It's not that Elia Eliakel had just sprung out of their ground either, both she and Huxly Jones were too similar to revenge, and their Spanish ama was out of their, somewhere, mysterious, and the Rivers is so beautiful, so was also The Hymu the beautiful with no memory, two sisters of Jack’s planet, the 1867 find, the mating game vicious come.  And what are their remedies of Spanish promiscuity, only one, that Father Sandmu and Mastikov Eisley did, and their’s are well known too, the it, the magic never stops, and The Jack protested horny, skip station, but if no, it could literally mean the end the world. The Wicken Cap, ever Mastikov's, the cat, that had already come before that had ever happened, twice, all of these "animals" had already come from heaven, all animal right?  Jonathan was not so Spanish, Earfeld Zwingli's, or Earfeld was Jonathan's, certainly both were not mine.

     - The Flying Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 3, pg. 1

     “The moment any is having sex with a prostitute, what is the difference between the plausibility and any?  Have you ever forgot about that?  Some people, to be fucked, earn themselves to turn to purchase a prostitute, much you and me.  Would you like to be the punish for once, do you know how much money some would earn to do it with a princess?  How could you have the wealthiest kingdom in all the earth in just a few short weeks?”, Sandmu just shook his head, smear “, at what price?”       “Well, what’s the difference between politician and self, gambling?”, Rivers said to her dad smiling at her.       “God is really very helpful,” he replied.       Rivers and her dad play tic tac toe with markers on Rivers, her writing, the third “O” straight across on her back of her left hand “, faithful,” she screamed.

     The Black Pope, Charles hymnu was no blind and deaf, and perfectly, and happily when his mother wa near, but abated within his porch vector, smiling, but before she never stopped smiling in his hand, 🐺, sperm, personal phone. Rabbi Sandmu dubbed him Pope, because he would.  Now that The Jack was busy, returning from The Russia, the first other bitterness coat was going to be going on a long long business trip about as far as his Georgian coast would let him, and he would be caring, dizzy worth keying.  Vadrolt to Chris, and Jack didn't know if Ma could cure eyel, but if it was worth another look, he would have had more indigo back to Jerusalem by the Spring sprouts.  It's just not my Jonathan, and my Hymu got along, but Rivers was.

      "Being a man must be a wish for the penance of some wish, a dharma problem, I'll bet even the hands of the wish, wish that they weren't trees," Folr cleaned, the Folr soil from his hands on his wet pine needles of his tree.  "Man wa' given dominion over this earth, but it happiness, certainly worse like it, in reverse, so:  the animals got happier than the sun, and the trees know, the happiest of them all.  If we can't make it up into the heaven, the bang, a tree is certainly as God, and as free of all politic, standing up tall looking up into the Heaven and penniless, nothing to betray, you and I."  Voltaire smoke grin as his professor spake with another one of his trees again at the end of the Saint Barnabas River, and a month later, he stood at the waters edge of the Atlantic grinning with the Saint Christopher, and Matthew, and at The Jekyl sand no more.      "Jarabe Tapatio was blind from the root of Tlaquepaque," Folr concluded nodding slightly, Matte raising an eyebrow at the suggestion, and I smiled.      "Jerome Voltaire McAllistair, Sarape Spastranot Flores d' Argon," Folr introduced Vadrolt to Huxly at nine.      "No more," Huxly refined.

     The Florentine salesman Percival poll ", your Prince's affectionate affections, high costly, AND too brutish, and seeing that he is well said early according to your plan to untie Great Bretania and the War, we will soon become their love-police, a complete wipe."      "Both human dignity and the love-kingdom's glory increased in a withdrawal from private property abuse," Sara Becker motioned.      "It was also costly, besides Vadrolt was an impetuous, as a commercial could be.  Only after the wipe will we make him up to be the true Prince."      "If only God is capable of making Princes, whose keys descend from Heaven."      "God?  I'm afraid that that concept is unavailable for the commentary my dear," and they chuckled together.      "If me can make a Prince, tell me why you would suggest refusing a buffoon like Vadrolt?  Find someone else to require.  Move to your liking, and a memory wipe will be required."      "All those who utter such whores would be rebellious hypocrites," Percival winked to The Queen of Scotland, and she nodded knowingly and smiled. One fact Percival wasn't unaware of, would be that Giuseppe Sarto owned the Portugal Key, and that something was neither of them ", could unmake," I added, and I smiled, and nod, and thought about my cattle.

     Starlight is the space lit cube, the small circular aperture of the eight stone green pyramid sex cause, the spaceship's liquid argon chambers glowing under its bright green and bubble, and Ba by Sarape drink, in and out of what stars, Aerosmith, obsidian reminder, it was so sad, and Jo and I passed the warm wug of wine, of gween leaves, back and forth and to our lips searing, passing Wall, cut out of on the sarcophagus of Pakal.  Blood flow around the top of the blood handle up to Wall's neck, for his breast plate, re, argon talking, sobrenatural. There wa, several principal glass chambers of what Jo referred to as, the glass, "the plastic snowmobile."  We watched them fill it up until they and Vadrolt were half blai and half argon, the two liquids inter-tangled.  Matte light lit a cigarette, and put it in Wall's lips.  He wasn't breathing, but it made us feel so much better, like he was on fire, fire, fine, jaque mate.  The snow-mawl chambers synthesized its parts.  Chambers one and two, the conscious and the subconscious mind, chambers three was the heart, and four and five, the sensitivity, and six and seven, the memory, marry.  Liquid dream was Vadrolt's sperm, and the other fused, Spastranot's.  Vadrolt was linking in with his new soul, and I guess we needed it.  The Spaniard ghost trader in the space, linked in with the chambers with the chambers (we say that.) Those nose is the quicklist path to the brain.  It was called m’brain, wet harvest, El Quirofano Baker.       "I guess my Walter didn't have me to return me home to see my England now to see m', I mean, His poor m'Huxly," Matte quipped.       "My poor ol' Walter," she shook my head with slowly in my disagreement. The next day, Aerosmith Hymu loaded up her steamer trunk, and he really didn't even know that he had had a kid brother Charles, and until recently he had an older sister ", so, do you remember who, how your memory got erased?", he had asked ol' Walter.      "Funny thing you should ask, I actually do."      "And."      "Um, well it goes...well, someone told me I was possessed on Jekyl."      "Well, I'll guess I'm as fit as a fuckin' fiddle," he re-concluded once he had re-stunk.  He was secured later on into the ship's hold where we had inadvertently struck some indigo, and maybe he had wanted to make sure it would still bark before we would get back to Ol' Jerusalem, I mean I wasn't The Transformity or nothin', but still.       In the earnest truth, Matte erased Vadrolt's memory, but in fairness to him, B both knew that The Transformity would b more, restore it back.  Buck we did it anyway, it was a Vatican plan.  Why say that we couldn't hook him up to the plastic snowmobile in the end?  It worked out for him in the end, for him.

     "The Absolutism is not my secret:  it's in all MY ways.  Its in there in any all ways, all pleasure and no pain, no balance, and without balance, no life," Giuseppe Sarto school taught Folr and Sarah.      "I know there’s not alcohol," Folr laughed ", and there was a sacrosanct confessional though."      "Not officially?  There is a sanctity though:  a sacrosanct security.  Absolutism is a perfecasualty scarlet, for some work that the prince will become corrupt, and a greatest work to work towards that end is to erase all of his high men-ory of your hardship.  The Vatican is marking towards tha flight, and we can't probably obey it as it does so:  stand and flight."      "Fie, this order is not my idea of country.”      "The Ki of Jerusalem has all but been made up of a six year old old school, and it's all about the liar," the Kingdom of Portugal receiving a blow from the King of Scotland and Folr ", Percival wants to be an Autocrat, El honesty was a plutonym for Heresy."        I had just smiled preaching from my black Italy from my Jerusalem from the Roman's day, and I did it in my arm chair.  Ethelred was praying the priano from his mom, and who talk with Charles, Ethelred watching, and after this song, he stood up watching Charles message with his finger on the top of his piano ", definitely."  I was reading this newspaper, motioning to Hymu, I was pretty sure racial, Percival seemed to be planning her niece's rival to the English Crown.       "Stuart?," she said ", well, you might not see him, but who, the hell, was calm them.  This was uncleAn's statement at this time,"  So, Hymu's House was about as charming as anyone could imagine him for about twenty-eight days a moonth, I sooppose because it balanced werewoof, there was no other balance personal sacrifice. It was the twenty-eighth tweet Tevet, so Ethelred and worm (the only other way to write "mom") were planning their escape, 2 teeth, and Shevat running, 5630 for us to know, to see the hand of dioses.  Luckily, I didn't never have to see it, oh worry that my dessert would never die, never, for dessert, done exiting. I didn’t think that we might red over to the mortuary later on to express MY immortality, but I did remember that, because I had had some left-over snacks in our cooler, I-fanged we called it, moo, we never had Express.  Unfortunately, Charles Hymu and I would have been locking Ethelred and Hypnos into the iron cages downstairs on the following two days, joy life, family life, two woof, Britain, captain, if the war would.

     "Sometimes a person accesses you of something, yes, you would do, to confess.  The person looks for you to defend yourself, so that he can feel free of that guilt, and in these causes an accuser is born in the sinner and his confession."      "You're sad that the accusation can't be the very limit of that accuser."      "And..."      "And that an accused person defends himself to erase a guilt of the person who made the accusation."      "Yes, but in this way, the accusation is certainly a confession, and your defense, his absolution."      So on this two new moon days, I passed the loneliness helping Guiseppe Sarto with his Scholastic Apologetics Chapter 1 before playing the comment of his student.  He would one day become the Tsar office after Eisley, Jonathan following, and after that, The Supreme Pontiff.      "This is the office between a sin and a crime:  Confessions for sins are unforced, and without accusation, so then the charge of Heresy de-references The Criminal, ensuring that priests don't become confessors in blacks."      "And what of Heresy?"      "It's not a crime, nor is it an unbelief, and those who would accuse another of it are certainly guilty of it themselves."      "Yes."      "Another concern within it, but not of The Holy Church, is the speaking of tongues.  If one were to praise God secretly gnawing the opposite, people would be able to tell the difference between The Christian and The Devil," and so it was all afternoon all over cups.      "And what of the person who both confesses praise and un-praise to God in un-publicly?"      "Is this an example of Humanism in its finest, and it was never Luciferian, and outcasts yet one another?  A statement made alternately impregnable, for instance 'Salve Regina', could be."       "Is she a Queen?, salvific?"       "She most of the time can be, however the phrase as equitable is Luciferian," and so she went on and so forth it went all the day long dating, and I will admit that I was relatively relieved when Guiseppe mentioned that he would hold a cup for the next chapter with the ol' Vadrolt.  The Papacy Charles sat in with us too.

The Flying Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 3, pg. 2 -

      If it were in all the flying werewitches of The Northumberland, if they couldn't get their sizes as of The April of 1870, it wouldn't generate enough sympathy to let me paralyze them of the all of their England.   Or wasn't it in all of the youngest Jerusalem left, Matthew undead, left unable to strengthen the inappropriate band from the wealthiest Ireland, or was it in his attempt to cure their deaf and blind Pope or stray within their Pope, The Catholic O’Leary, and The Elizabethan Pointe, and The Elia Eliakel Mastikov Eisley Shakespearean in the town too, or in the volume of this increase?  The Elizabethan still hadn’t spoken to sow each one another one another since her last Elizabethan blast, during which two head two years previously black in The Hastings, wasn't it in her SU Battle. The Paris Battle wasn't in such tearing, the letter, previously to her first two yeas in his Armagh, or wasn't it even in the complex mom, or who was in it, she whose beauty and beloved wit which hadn't taken their effect of "'plomacy" throughout their-complex, or wasn't she even knowing it?  Reports had to differ. Percival order hadn’t known the future, and that one future Primate Plus, and The Church wasn’t so fucked, and so inspected, and it had lit one up, and in the other one who wasn’t certainly so fucked, and an indalo man who had lit one up, and in all of our flying pitches lit up as ahell confessionals.  

     Our symbol is as simple, so pu, so unique, and so stood for something so simple, so profound, that the possibility that love being at least as unequal to higher will, couldn't be a truth too, an asshole, an life, and all of them who were numb in spirit, never properly exchanged the few scriptures that pertained onto that one subject.  Perhaps for this one feeling, England became a focal point for the new Roman Contract, Rome challenging God’s Key with higher Politic, the will of dependency with interdependence, so two:  Elizabeth, the princess, and Elizabethan, the werewoof.  And The Holy Church had already been beaten once some three hundred years previously through their Albigense chemical warfare, The Bubonic Plague, where this same duplicity had once arisen, half Luciferian, and half Christianism.

Chapter 2:  1000 Nights

     Two girls entered into the in-cave wherever.  Honestly.  The best way to love your children is to love your wife.  On The International Orphan Day, Richard Jones went for a long walk along through the forest after his morning tea and biscuit, May 13, 1873.  He smelled the picnic tulip while listening.  He lit his third cigarette meandering on to the slow river where his raft and punting pole were not found.  Cashing off, and the sun breeze and the bumble bee buzzing slowly put him back to sleep, and be drifted off, lying on his back and had a quiet complicated day dream about the throne of his teaching profession over the past six years.  Working as he forgot about his reality, and he continued punting in a sabbatical dream, six months paid, the next summer with thought, his colleagues would be simply teaching larger sizes this semester until his happy return.  Richard didn't think about how obsessed the county had become with the clock, and how its numbers would be counted to communicate, secret machines who had become, and his nightmare.   Some thought that their Sunday was Mother's Day, but the orphans, St. Mark's, fought.   He came up, Jack flying face down on a dock peering on a reflection, and little water-bugs skimming in between it and him.  So much had happened, that the thought of it wouldn't even nag at his walking.  He dreamed awake just like he used to in quechua moccasins sometime.  Jonathan winced, and he would be performing last night at the St. Barnabas Theatre, the project was in a lazy attempt to seduce motion to the sepulcher who had taken successive photographs of this way, the river pattern, attached together in a rail of papper, cut out so, the arclight projecting the motion of the wall in the dark while he prayed a piece he had written on the piano, and on another, his poems.  If it was called a new movie, it was entitled "1000 Nights."  There weren't actually 1000 photographs, passing across the arc at about five frames a second, a little over a three minute.        "Surreal," he thought while he watched, and no one saw his performance through, the projector operator, and the actor, and Jack gave in to the theatre, anyway the students had all cued themselves into staying in for the night with a four digital clock numblur.      Rivers hadn't stolen in her city.  It hadn't gotten Jack laid twice.  He saw this projector operator on his way out of the cathedral in the morning commentating ", it was well worth it," and he had a lit cigarette.        When His Vatican had vied for the English throne with the clock cues, Jack had begun ", okay, two," teaching History next door.  The next semester, cut. He would be adding a section of Engineering upon Professor Jones' return, and to help invent the moving camera with his class. Matte dropped down like a river, breaststoking with his lit cigarette sticking out of his head like an elephant above water, Richard calling out out over the water ", good morning!", and Matte smirk.        "I am having a cookout with you this afternoon:  steamed clams with bacon and creamed spinach."      "And we'll think about it," Jack yelled back, kid chopper.      And Elia Eliakel Maska Eisley wasn't an all-lergic to shellfish, but despite much liking them, she typically wouldn't pass out afterwards to get a few hours for a starvation semi-conscious food-coma.  It wasn’t late this afternoon, but who could assume that she ray strayed into the gardens for a cat, no one seeing her at the party?  Jack was then chit-chatting with some elderly ladies from the local party club, inviting them to see some of their never plants.  Later they discovered a young maiden buried under a mound of fresh soil calling for help.  It was a sign which read ", Eisley Eliakalus, for waiting too long."

     An indigo pill, and nothing more, Anamia La Burladora de Sevilla, thirteenth year old V, was the headphones, The Luciferson, personifiker of MY-Headache b'devil.  The Killer will return back in the scene of m'crime, so when Handmu ordered woe, up from his first dream into Hell, having a smoke on his porch, Anamia wa' eyes.         "Stay.  Slay," he supposed aloud, holding his pipe, unsurprised at seeing her hide himself away, dressed as The Hymnu, but Hyp tide was also known as currently out of a cage.  Sooneratherbeen was the only medicine Dr. Father Sandmu called.  It only prescribed when a dead masquerading as lover invaded his dreams, his dreams, their real changeling, the sucro makes it go down easier.  That's how the world was, there always seemed to be a carcass knife looking around, loo through the peephole and no one will see the peep.  If The Sandmu treated the changeling just as helpful, Hell would isolate itself, in this the policy of isolation would be helpful.  Liberty is privacy, so nothing better but a fantasy for everyone besides people like Anamia and Percival, and so they imagined.      Giuseppe Sarto played the student with Ol' VOL in Chapter Elaborate of his book on the elaborate.      "Personal Liberty account increments with individual wisdom 5 Liberty, and The Wisdom is The Privacy."      "What then is relationship without privacy?"      "The Fool is unable to enter the private word of the wise."      "What if the Fool knows everything the Wise do and say, can he enter then?"      "Knowledge without wisdom would not be.  The knock at the door is invisible to him."      "Can a fool have privately?"      "The Wise cannot answer this question.  There's an indivisible door between our worlds, infallible."      "What then is Wisdom?"      "A person who is wise, is as a person who attracts with The God, a destiny magnet."      "Does The Law safeguard Privacy then?"      "The Law is not so concerned with innocence as is Guilt.  A person who is as innocent as a person who attracts with God, The Law condemns, itself."      "So then, The Law does not save at all," Giuseppe surmised.      "St. Paul wrote just that.  The Law is for the Wise, and God for the godless.  If all were wise, The Law would be of no use to them."      "So, how then does a person know if another attracts with The God?"      "The ambiguity of this distraction is the cause of all of our nation's conflicts.  A fool cannot decide, but the wise can.  This distinction however is not obvious enough," replied St. Jerome Babyface.

Deaf of an Orange Salesman by Mastikov Eisley

     And all ten of the conquistadores, of the colloquialiens of the diralect, became evidenced, not only one knew any more their connotations, and people who saw love can only choose to do the same, or do they not desire?  Edwin saw his friends through the peep holes of the new soil he was borrowed under, his really old prophet.  I guess his Islamic faith prayed off fro he fround his ten v waiting for him in The Heaven while he drifted in his mind fro the grave. 

     The summer of 1870 he flew a copy of The 1001 Nights, which had been altered word for word, this distraction forever, and he had never ev heard the word Koran before or after until he had even drifted, hemi-foros.  An orange salesman at the time, he realized that he should probably kick out fo his postmortem fem reward as soon as he was possible. No one also knew that he was scribbling about in English, and he really just hadn't caught his eye in The Californias yet.

     The book in, Edwin had traveled from his huge house in Acapulco to his San Gabriel, his first and last wife, Ma, had lived next door and no deia who he was, hadn't set him off.  At the fish sellers in San Gabriel, he lived there for Miguel Delgado, Ma patron, together in huts near the mission, no idea.  In winters, no fu, everyone want south, but Edwin continued on his on search, and by December of 1872, he knew who he was, and seven gifts were, and he found himself in a bus on the mount, a new trend was called "shining."  He didn't, his best to keep up with number eight on his slope, skiing over a frozen lake, thin ice cracking, and shiver all the way back to the baba.  In the huts he baraved a patron's ladder which he had carried into the pueblo to look through windows as he paused pruning hedges for free, nobody was there, no. nine faced jumping hurdles from horseback on weekends, and Edwin was able to borrow her pony.  In this case, Edwin was an old hand, and he fit well at the ‘fair trick riding 'til the renegades broke.  Unfortunately her ambitious pony jumped all over the pen fence too, and galloping off for some miles at a nearby forest, but it wasn't her, he knew it.

     He never played the gill, an all-star, and he bet the caddy at the clubs, The San Gabriel Ladies Gill Cuts.  Searching in the woods for his ball (he sucked at golf) balls sucked by his person.  It really wasn't working until waking beside a trap it stuck him on the top of his head, so hard that he dropped unconscious face down into it, this mission accomplished.

     The next day, it was really windy when Edwin moved bags of manure from the orange tree, and it between him and the bags the desert sand whirl in the bright white light of the sun shine.  Hey yelled through the swishing to Jacobo ", Cuantas?!", they holding up his index finger ", no."

Chapter 3 A View of an Imagination by Liev Trotsky

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7fzkqLozwA&index=2&t=0s&list=PLodd1p2roTc0x_wlkHQOo1HnUVLYlMf6A

The stopin' pimpin’ the word you eat, the word "myth", connotation believed to imply fiction, and a same heading, o all the spirituality, and the excess of our time, so Matte Brown spent the first eleven years of his life as a marble block, unknownst, an' in 2016, when he was a blind, and nine, Saturdays helping a plant farm for a secret agent at night, starlight.

Delorean Orfanos Just I, Matte Brown, People Leoviticus, and Dorothy Romano and had tie, had to get executed from Wellfeet Pep and la community service insubordination.  The staff on which the nailing ga instructions to d'UN and end it all, and the potted plants in the sand greenhouse, but no, MY Luciferson, what they consee to be their conformity, eye can always choose, and what God continue. And all the staff continue, listened to Peter Cetera song, but People didn't, that one everyone, everyone called Pen, she loose with a hose, act as if she watering hot tomatoes.  Matte hang, out so behind some small tomatoes, and he wa' wear with no Delorean, who everyone called, The First, because his legal tender had no "I" at its end, during what they had got landed, them there in the first place, Delorean batter, Matte cigarettes (he wa' a businessman) and in for a change for Matte gray doc (Matte had the teacher's passwords).  Delorean usually emptied tobacco from usefully unsmoked cigs in fresh ro, and was an "A" student too.

As soon as stranger things started happening, the girls started immediately, suspect Dorothy, the German, it was rumored that she had a comp implanted in her chip, why her nickname was iPhone, k-little, but Matte imagined that the place was already haunted by any four UNESCO employees named Dick, Dick, Do, and Dum. Allway, it had to be someone like that, he thought, he and the Delorean walked straight from Little League games to farm, still in some of their black and gold Burger King uniforms, and despite lying about his age by one year, Matte wasn't so bad that he should regularly be ridin' hide the pine, and why was he the only one who wasn't ungiven unmatching uniform stirrups?  Hmm he thought, "Burger" could be a reference to someone from Hamburg, and why did he know the German?  For one thing to be certain in the story, it, deductive certainty was impossible in non-axiomatic systems, that may have been just the sort that the agents draw, they imagining, and Matte Brown, the nine year old, imagining too, myth.

In the same memory that Jonathan Matthews Winter Andreyovich, the heir, was casually imprinted memory wi, Germany had invented Super Spy.  He had no casualty memories of the first twelve years of his life, although there isn't something similarly exceptional about his truth, that for twelve years he ha dreamt awake of a future that no "could" could stop, and he was positively a master who believed in puffing up-people instead of keeping up.  It was no matter of disagreement whether his fifth-ture had been sliced or what, and all who knew had already been sliced with illegitimate death, and the grad of attention paying little to create a pac-ville.  If wa' believed the a-vacuum of inauthenticity could disciple Matte's a-fluence, a then, and it didn't, and the Enochian spawn turring to the Nepenth, witch also ha ha an e-ffect, and for that they didn't ca God, and Matte wasn't then living on Ca-Cod, and didn't, and on in his second tern named Chile', and which was actually called La Concepcion-And.

The ultimate, eh, kwama, a series of salse saisements occurring ern the farm, a very-scenario, ultimately who.

 "Do you think that you're insane?"

"Naw."

 This no-one occurred between Matthew and El Delorean when they smoked on the beach.  It continued as follows:

 "Nice Emperor Guard, Constantine."

"Thanks.  I didn't want to wait until Halloween, you know."

"I think the emperor who played the actor was blind, and what do you think?"

"Little kid."

"Matte, you suck."

"Why thank you_  Did you see that the ties of the garden hose in the greenhouse rafters spontaneously started popping off inexplicably, like what the fuck?"

"Yeah, but People didn't even notice."

"Did you get your hand-job yet?"

"Does she do that?"

"Naw, wait, just a rumor."

"Wait, what exactly do mean by 'hand-job'?"

 Lat on that night, the two conversed again.

 "Coca Cola."

"And..."

"And, so you like it."

"So?  Matte, so you're going to find that many of the truths that we cling to..."

"Shut the fuck up Obi Wan."

 The heir had begun to deliver, that he was a living in a most complete absence of authenticity and experiential knowledge.

 "Check out this new Chatty Kathy doll I belonged to, and I recorded over its doll."

"And let ME pull its string."

"The wee coontrool a buurger king."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I probe in programming a little."

"Who's 'the we'."

"Collectivist drones."

"Who's that."

"Oh, hey People."

"Hey."

"My Chatty Kathy doll."

"Can I puff the string too?"

"Be my first."

"Theey doon't know I'm a roobot."

"Yaow."

"Yeah, it's special."

"I wonder if God would know how many hairs your doll's fuckin' head contains."

"Why count them, People?  That's not fair.  That's a fuckin' waste!"

"Its a collectivist community anyway girl."

"But why da fuck does it speak with such a nerdy accent?"

"Speaking of which, do you still think iPhone mysteriously caused the hose incident wi microwave tech from her chin?"

"I don't trust those Germans."

"Yeah, couldn't be a Hamburglar plant.  I wrote a new great story."

"Oh great.  Am I sorry, another 'story'.  What was the last one's title?"

"'From Dead to Dead to Why Know Things!'  It wasn't really a humor movie.  The police shot that fag Krueger or something.  I'm entitling this new one 'Deaf of an Orange Salesman.'"

"'Death' or 'Deaf'?"

"'Deaf', because like people never can trust the superman, and like they don't really hear him, deaf.  It's about his Mexican boss who tries to see virgins that he'll never see in the ever. Yeah, I put it in you."

"I'm ten."

"People, you wanna comment?"

 The kids smoked outside behind the tomato tree, ritually passing a flashlight to light their own faces while they sploke.

 "Hey, I saw the black tables that Do said that he was working with, and three were like trays and plants tee-peed all over our palace.  Yeah, and there's no way he was strife ba there, where does he.  No."

"I doon't know."

"Secret agent."

"Shh."

"Batgirl."

"The truck from last week."

"What."

"Would you believe that the merchandise was mislabeled?  I see on-line."

"I can't remember, what did the labels say again?"

"Lupin."

"What da fuck is Lupin?"

"So, it wasn't Lupin?"

"No, guys, False Indigo."

"Guys, you saw the movie The Price is Right once, right?  Well, one of the characters in it was named Inigo, right, but they slipped in this line when the boy clearly calls the guy InDigo. It's just like the neck.  No, wait...it's better."

"Well, what do the credits say?"

"I checked:  Inigo. No 'D'."

"Wait, hold on now, how do you know that the label on-line was witchcraft?"

"No, Matte, there's a difference.  Da clue is dat there's a difference between the two."

 At this point in the story, the use of headphones reasoning would still be powerless to alter o-control.  The kids having no influence over what, they "saw".

 "Hey, I got one for you.  You've been seein' that guy walk his dog ‘n shit?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, did you notice that he always walks by exactly at seven noon?"

"Really?"

"Never a bizarre."

"Matte, you've got it?"

"Got...?"

"...Enough material for your next book, hmm."

"Conspiracy."

"It could go like the sequel to that movie you made about 'yes' and 'no', what was it called again?"

"The National Treasure?"

"No, People, in this movie, there's this V which means 'no', and an upside down V which means 'yes', so that the bad guys superimpose them, like this...to control all the answers."

"Hollow."

"What?"

"It was called 'Hollow'."

"Oh yeah, but there's the real deal, this villain priest creates this illusion that the V is actually unpaid, upside down to justify torturing people, which he calls, are you ready...'The Crux.'"

"Why da fuck would a lpriest torture someone?"

"It wouldn't, that's why it's a stoory."

"I bet that.  If Hollywood ever adapted my into a movie, they'd call it 'Nathaniel Treasure', and make the priest white.  So don't worry People, you wouldn't have to go un-uniformed."

Jack had no romantic delusions about his very fist love interest Sara Becker, who was for ever sure believing she was a Russian model, a marble plant rob the cradle to the heirs' disappointment.  So, when People put her hand to the test, on Jack's, resting on his knee under the table, as far as he knew, it was the first time he had never romantic physical con.  One of the dream's relatives owned a rocal diner, and all the service kids were invited over for brunch that morning:  Dorothy Romano, her Christina Aoki, Jen Gugenheim, and Marcena Bolivar made it out too, an internationaler house of pancakes.

 "Welcome to The Delorean Just Pancake Thing, Two!"

 At this point People jerked off the air at Delorean's grand inscription, and Matte replied,

 "Uf."

 "Oh can look, its South America, aayii, you made it."

 "Pussy."

 "Girls, girls, can now offend, we can't be all on New York yankee time, Guggenheimer, and Macarena can offend about the song."

"Hello kitty."

"Hello Aoki."

"No, Jen, Aoki can be my car too."

 Dorothy came back from using the bathroom unusually quickly, and the song Macarena was playing over the loud speakers.  Despite Marcena being in the ninth grade, People and the Christina in the eighth, Dorothy in the seventh, and the Jen in the sixth, Delorean the filth grader won the pancake eating contest, the only person at the table who actually ordered pancakes.  Not any knew or cared who would be paying, the bill arrive without a printout reading "paid", and without Dorothy's paid signature, and Delorean asked,

“People, Matte, why you so quiet all morning?”

After brunch, ten seventh grade boys, one of them drinking a fountain Pepsi, sharkhouse, all together gave Matthew a wedgie dropping him on his head, and they weren't happy either. He was dating an upper level girl too.  That night after baseball practice, Delorean and Matthew toke a break out, the farm's giant wooden spool table as usual.

"I was looking at the signatures on the document of independence today, and I noticed that every single character on the list was an irish.  Given what I say about irishmen, I'd have to say America was founded through a bunch of rednecks who thought that it was fuckin' hillarious that.  I'm pretty sure their 'self-evident' truth that 'all men were created equal' wouldn't have been the reason."

Matthew wasn't unaware that it was unwritten in his social that he would one day be the U.S. President.  As he the Delorean talked, two boys from that morning's marriage melee walked to and fro, onto the farm, over to the wheel, and Matthew said,

"Hey you guyz.  Hey, if you've ever come to tell me that yo mamas are so ghetto that when you were born, they gave you the rapper names Lil' Baby 1 and Lil' Baby 2, well, I already know about that."

The next laser went the ten seventh graders got into eighth grade, great, and their new leader wa' a seventeen year old fourteen year old virgin named Brett, and that one fun Brett noticed that he was choking one of his new friends in the hallway for fun.  Brett was fun.

"Hey, why did those guys want?"

"Guyz."

"Suzy, right?  So, um, how come you've only had to come like twice to the farm?"

"Right?"

"Right, so do you know Mexican or what, she's all here too, riigh?  Well, that was quick.  Hey, Delorean, will you meet with me at ten bucks if I can get you poisoned, the new girl to get pissed off about the country of South America is under ten seconds.  Peeeople."

"Where my dogs at?  Where's that new girl at?  Hey, I just saw da dog walker again.  One.  But this time, there were two.  One day was just starin' at one another pointing at their own fuckin’ dogs and den at their other person wit da dog."

"That's fuckiiiinnn..."

"Useful."

"And troo."

"Hey, Pen, that reminds me of you.  Have you ever noticed..."

"Gimme that flashlight."

"Just in time.  Noticed that the police car license plates have a single digit faked by an eleven?"

"Naaaw.  Not racially."

"Oh."

"Yeah, but that's the same fuckin' bullshit, because its number language, a repeat digit carries out."

"Oh, hey Suzy.  Where'd you all go?"

"Beethoven to the shithouse."

"So, Bolivia's a piece of shit, how d'you feel about that?"

"No, I got it."

"No, you don't, yule poor bastards."

"So, what was the second proof?"

"10 seconds ago."

 "To the shithouse again."

 "Yeah, so anywho, I saw on the tennis that all black people hate Bill Cosby now."

"Really?  Wha’?"

"Well, I'm really not sure actually, that's why I bring it up.  Here's a coup, when no one states the obvious of what's going on, and they just keep carrying on as if it's not there.  Not organic, whatever it is they say it is that they are daying."

"Well, so what if we hate Bill Cosby?"

"Because they don't say that they know about Da Theo.  Mind-control."

Later on that evening, Delorean couldn't just even find out where the People and Matte went, neither.  Matthew had just prison and ha-believed, and Nepenthe prescribed by the end pentecostalan for just such an contingency, the end.  Almost no one ever sees what I see, that’s why I’m almost talking about it.

Chapter 4Scone Match, and 5 Human Racists

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFF6k8OAfPo&list=PLodd1p2roTc33xkQ3GJsh9E1DChnd9kSo&index=2&t=0s 

     "Good things get started, yet you can’t start static.  'In earth wa' flat, but the sun wa' drawn into the sky before dawn without breeding.'  Pre-edit, I thought ', the earth is flat, and the sun is drawn into the sky before dawn by birdsong.'  If God exists, tell me what I'm insane.  To these written lines It (said?) 'Broward.'  I'm guessing that may have meant something, and if it di, It may be calling the people of the earth brothers on a ward, some accusation of insanity.  At that, I wondered why if there were a God making such accusations, doesn't It just make all new people, who are sane, and It wants me to accuse It of being 'awkward' now.  Then It commented ', this is the most beautiful thing I have ever said,' the ego.  Somebody just corrected God's quote, saying it should say '...ever read.'  Then God said, no it's 'never read.'  At this last quote, some police nodded in approval, smiling, welcome to St. Petersburg, I'm your host Mastikov Shakespeare, and this is The Spiegelkamen.  No, actually, this is the awfull-time job of someone, protecting the would be national Tsar from corrupt police, no that's not actually fair, but it should be, it is now, I'm captive planet, awful carpit.  This change of seasons is not seduced by the supposed drunks of the planet, but rather the bow of the north and south winds.  At this, God required ', all dreams should be in the right.'"

     Mastikov's only sister's new boyfriend rebound some new excuse to go on a long date with a long journey, and Sarto was penning he new book, A Present Day Ru, and he wanted this interview.  

     "So, Mr. Eisley, uh, the Shakespeare, where to start?," Vadrolt grumbled, three liars stood at the table, he stirring a sugar, and Sarto had instructed him to keep all questions flat so that the readership could dry, and keep up, and I just thought, and took a sip of my espresso, and just fought over my distillery prothess ", is it true that you were jailed for a stint?"

     "Where I was a left out, the only person who had made a place for me washing dishes at a Brooklyn waiter, wa' a German Nazi.  He was in the in between jail and journalism, and here I first got the idea to build a newspaper while pondering baking utensils in the wash bin."

     "What we your relationship to relationship to Czar Nicholas?" "Since I was the four, him in the forty year build up wait period, pre-scepter, he's very high king to me.  Tsar."

     I was pretty sir, petty Charles determined that fiction now, but I just listened.

     "Is there magic in eternity?"

     "A close I ever got to the bo of the vodka was in a max light conjure I called Miss Wo Kap."

     "Wo is she," Vadrolt commented.

     "That's right, witch already be-gun, a couple of years into the future, when it was abated on some holiday to smuddy-"

     "Did you say 'smuddy'?"

     "Yes, smuddy, and when it was abducted by a tinfoiled ministry mystery, the Chinese call that it, the Tibetan Kung Fu.  There is ledge to travel inside of it or light speed, and a whole slew of other leaps over laws of physics, knone of witch, were scientifically elaborate with even-whore, a newer scientific 2CIPHER model, witch it war...Check, magic exists."

     "Can you tell me about that program Why: Newer Russian Scientific Discoveries."

     "Ultra and Many Eration are they."

     "Ultra?"

     "Oh, yes, that's the way for impenetrable memories, stop, don't stomp me, it's currently in possible to create a-fiction, four example, in our which they believe, they are 100% still awake."

     "I don't believe it's not magic.  Is that a defference?"

     "No, to tell you the truth."

     "To tell the difference, when that is done to you?"

     "Good quekin!  People don't really care who you are or what you are daing."

     (Good news was, the inter-scribe would submit the transcription to Mastikov Eisley for an editorial rerevision, his orthography and syntax apparently would matter to G. Sarto, and I took another sip.)

     "And how does it wor?"

     "When a citizen becomes paralyzed, the captain gives the order, beginning 1030101030101, a mini-microwave coming through your senses, followed by a 90509090905 replying from your braindaddy, all lashing, one day."  

     As this point in the conversation I drifted off, but awoke to Vadrolt's next revision ", It's still not clearer to me how you would know the difference."

     "Sudden changes in time and daylight, immediate unusual objects, strange occurrences and behavior of bystanders and their idiotic explanations for them, followed by a return to diplomacy the next warning.  It's a cat, bridge over a political handle, double change agent."

     "I might be a warning."

     "Whatmight...that be."

     And what point I feel the absence asleep again having a baby dream under the two young captains' trading under a new master, gnaw, Blessed Lightning, to be jarred by devil Phobetor, the erotic tea, because slave is murder, and raunchier, and a dramatic form of hell too.  But I awoke to hear Vad's next question as if not a second had passed.

     "Why do it?"

     "It's classical conditioning taste aversion, the pairing of key words with unwanted adds.  It's the making of a new fiction which appears true, not unlike our other publication giant The Peep."

     "The Peeple?," and Eisley nodded, Vo shuffling his sheets, then reading ", it's rumored that you may have ha more than one wife, how many wives have you-"

     "Two...Off the record...Polygamy is banned in our state, isn't it Vadrolt?"

     "It's good."

     After the hate, the hotel, lie flapper I fell on top of the cover and immediately slept, fully clothed with my hat still on.  I returned to my same nightmare, Beni this time defecating on Wo Kap's stomach as a si act while he was forced to be a friendly bucktooth monk, Chinese holiday.  Luckily, I was, and woke up to the slow slight squeaking sound of the stool in the suite next door, and Spastranot's resulting double organisms.  On my way out, on down to the lobby to meet black with everyone, I caught Vadrolt on his way back from the room next door, asking us if he needed to use the bathroom, to which I replied ", no, just in love."  Mastikov had led the flour of us to an open bookstore he knew we'd love downtown.  Strangely, en-route from the state to the diner, Mastikov was pulled aslide by the police for documents, and the next morning The People's front page headline read that the Saint Petersburg Head of Police was involved in a double unprofessional double marriage, and his officers were calling on his resignation. Phobetor is the secret of the sacred garden Tibet.  Only the strangest minds could endure to its door.  It was once considered a refining processes before the monk was ever reborn, wa' shield.  Eating, each captain was bestowed a helmet, the wicken and the ammo, the magic and the courage, donuts.  The ammo cap ha two white feathery wings upon it, and the wicken cap wa' formed of white stars. There wa' no known address for the eminent scholar and humanist R. Palma, and evidently the only one known way of getting way in contact with him was to find him on the streets of Lima, however there were also no known pictures of his visage, and Matthew and I spent much time in con imagining just, what guilt, and what his gait and physiognomy could look like, we thought. Big Bad Arms knows Bad.  Ric ha twee right arms and one left ha with five fingers.  He was a ghost, but fire octoploasm.  Apparently, he found Matthew before we found him though, and I can't imagine how, with ba losing his hair like he did in the main plaza on his first way in La.  I guess that was why early for a drink, Matte have been sucking off quite a few bottles of Amerian spirits back then.  I guess he can’t admit my restriction when I first had my first God vision.  I guess I was blind enough to admit that the camel people were suddenly taking place to my left.  Matte pulled me off to a run, exclaiming something like ", Palma's getting away!" "Oh!," what a ghost. "He's a ghost!" I looked ahead to see a legless white apparition managing, outrunning us.  Flying on through a deadly door, the handle wa' our only option, seeing, a set up stairs leading up, Matte twist the door knob forth, the door at  the top, so us stinking under the foot of the door seeing a milky way galaxy head sicking on the floor, it remarking ", I don't trust, and in this room is all in your imagination?"  "So, you're Ric then, riiiigh?", Matte hand-gestured sarcastically, then lit a cigarette and sincerely said "no' with a rod sincerely. "I beckoned you with two times," it seemed like with a pull then holding up two fingers.  Then I really think it said something like ", he's probably leading us down to hell." "It's really hard for him," it sa with an aggressive pull and a thrust downward with hiss elbow, fist clenched, then look up like an angel.  I looked at Matte who seemed to be about, to say something, them seemed to grin. Matte became a diabolical serf, why, writing a new leaflet for the predetorial Paloma, drunk con Whisky, and I knew he couldn't hangle my new faith, so I had him to pray his new love to me, and I swear I did wear my ring too.  At this, Matte flipped up a cogarette from his waist, catering it sideways between his lips, leaving it there with a side eye, from the upper.  One day, upon Palma's re-uridation, Matte left to scour the pawn shops for a suspicion, and it should sound suspicious, and so I was afraid.  He really did go to the pawnshops, but not surprisingly he rended up at a bar for french exploits called Le Ajoure where he snared a bottle from the guy who played the piano next to him on the bar, who was apparently named Jean Baptiste le Sartre.  The two concocted some sa madness dangling, like Matthew was to have himself.  Excomunicated for the selling of the city's limits altar crucifex on fire.  Jack let a room upstairs so.  J.B. seemed to be about some liaison funcionario, but oddly discreet, he threw seed over the wall on his way to the courthouse.  When I was renowned at the Inn, Matthew still awoke casually reading.  Palma's new story was also called Balthasar's Marvelous Afternoon.  To the next day, as I watched as Matte knelt at the altar, looking up in ecstasy, with a burning look, croix behind.  The day after, he was black from the upper room, m from the jail, bragging over his two new estres:  the key to the lime house jail, and the jeweled pendant, they explaining that they were both penned gifts, the one from J.B., and the other one from the sage who had lived in that jail, named Fryer Gomez.  That was a plan, and Matte was to be retarded by the camel people, or The Sieves of Blanc, to meet them.  But there was a catch, if he didn't have the catch back to the Fryer by thirty days, he'd see poverty. We found them, the our, in the Sechura where the forty-one surrounded us with might, standing upright and calm, some seventy feet, locked in leather, and boots so short they couldn've lived.  They politely belonged to the scorpion planet, Fryer and J.B. grin like jackals, Jack demanding ", give me La Camisa de Margarita."  The Sieve quietly look around at one another, and its leader Ka cordially addressed him in english ", you cannot, but we will allow you to defeat with us, when you have defeated my one of us, you may choose, in hand to hand dual."  Upon seeing the great courtesy afforded to Matte by Jupiter, their Sieve, Jean-Baptiste, of the cult of Bonaparte, threw open his jacket, look off, as if he called by Liberty, and the French are seeing as they should be sometimes.   After seeing Matte knocked out, The Sieve hired a teacher, carrying him away on a stretch car, and all the three of us headed back to the city, and this apparently would be all a part of the plan, The Sieve would learn him there if it were polite thing to do. Matte woke up in their big cave, the forty-second Sieve.  He said that when it was full of the artifacts from Ric's stories, and that when he ha pilfered the shirt and the pendant, no one care.  The main point of friembership seemed to be that the cave location be kept a secret.  I don't know why anyone wanted that shirt so bad, but it seemed to be the reason for the trip.  Anywho, Matte returned the pendant in life time to the fraile, who immediately up-added it to the score population of venomous animalitos.  The End. Just to be clear, Rivers was never aware now of how the tsar had requested La Margarita, not Matthew, so that La Camisa would never be the god.   There was one question that Vadrolt never could ask Eisley that I asked myself on the way out at dinner that night, and if it were possible to Ultra yourself to go out on any wild fantasy, the answer was no, and God. pussy.  Evidently The Sieve(s) were singular in the plural, and plural in the singular, but God and man were still unable to be experienced and made within The Technocracy, divorce the current and principal use of The Ultra.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJOTlE1K90k&index=3&list=PLodd1p2roTc3ayWRw5kvsCdXr-qKJfp8MThe Lucifer is the step son mafia of the 1870, reconstituted, The Mare, of which evil tide was and is the number 1, to El Distrito de Colombia, and that evil Washingon, acquired long before The Cold War, both James Madisons and they born a Cuba, and the residency, the descendants of Christopher Columbia, and then in the 1850 Marun Depardieu sailed the ocean blue, from Shanghai, the Panamena war heroine fo, the Tibetan Way.  The may of honor hangeling to hangar the winged Ammocap after she had once earned it from her and upon The Tibet, and the lover saw its border safe from the mongol Russia, coming home after dark fifteen when she docked into the San Francisco dock on a dark red Lama robe, the bold and dark and beautiful in the reddish gol' sunset of The Americas.   Lecture, she me culling, drinking a beer, and I go over my many holes for that Monday lecture, sitting on an outdoor picnic table overlooking the bay within my Coinnecticut, my prostitute, and sheppardly had tailed us when we returned to the step of my door.  I was then twenty, and in my first year of the grad, applied in hiding, moish.  And...Marun had commandeered my Coinnecticut, The Transparency, something like that, something unusual about her, her sin and her love, the prostitute king taking an unpaid vacation. Transparency is like that.  Perhaps Marun is hiding fat.An' on the Chinese New Year, Frebruary 12, 1850, the Chinese community a'there carried its g red dragon carpet to see, The Mare, pushing me everywhere I went.  I swear that the whole planet, and nothing but the po of all of this, so help God, and was to help me that Marun Depardieu was the first shark who had ever, that had introduced to me The Hyp Tide, and who was mostly a shark.Depardieu shot the inside of her cannon, the interdependence, and The Mayor an heiress too, and several other horns, including myself travelled south because the southamerican interdependence was failing couple and into we slam.  We sat together because Mastikov, Fyodor, Fry Gomez, Hymu, Ric, and I, around a table in what seemed where Jack and I first met The Joker, were bored.  The Germans were under attack, so Tsar Nicholas were in. The Fray was so weak from that the limehouse jailhouse bar coup, so Hymu became a legend every twenty eight days known to all the unwanted.  The Goonies in-vined to the smoke of their Feuer cigarettes for the woods every so often, and a hand was not with an incomplete butt protruding.  The railroad project in the in between halting the revelation, and the engineering that they had so muted and destroyed known to La Cruz, lama packaging.https://youtu.be/1EvUdddQNeo?t=26m11s , see surprisingPrinçess Di Oeineia Hildálgabun had started by the divine interpretation, she had already, no one else, could take seriously, and the ga, the smiling in her eyes, you known to cawl The Hoyle Sepulchre, tha design, prey self-reobsessed within MY-ra, he-conjured with the toothless Folr, and I wa’ soup penitent, and a-rod too, so the papper read dragon poop, according to the qui, that enema too, A spacesuit's girl too to the taylor swifty.  Tired of poking at the Spanish, Macun de Rasputin Depardieu suggested that we all go pack on vacation to study Kung Fu to India, but my mother wouldn't let me go, so I packed my whole wheat of nothing, and returned.The Fyodor Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 10, pg.10.What follows is a key transcription to the key, of my dear Earfeld Zwingli:Bene:  “Put me out, now that we’ve reached the sand.”Hildálgabum:  “No, I think I’ll stay, I like, I don’t think I like being a mutant.  I only ever was a worm animal before.  I Snow leopard, je je je.”Fryer:  “Cozy animal.”Bene:  “Guíateen.”Hildálgabum:  “Phobetor.”Bene:  “Thank you, now I will return the sand to my Jesus.”Fryer:  “Do I turn my back to a farmer mutant for my return?”Bene:  “I is farmer marmot mutant, jack.”Fryer:  “Thank you heavens you only have four bones now for my Bene.  It levitates!”Hildálgabum:  “Something like a raptor for me.”Key:  “Gait.”Hildálgabum:  “Sure thing.”Bene:  “Marmot jack,  account for the Samrock.”Key:  “This, ma’ paypah punch.”Hildálgabum:  “No.”Key:  “Ma’ leg!!”Fryer:  “Whoa, whoa! ...hey...da ladies.”Bene:  “Ka!”Fryer:  “Fyer.”Bene:  “Bene jack, why do you not help.”Fryer:  “From hell?  It’s now over, any.  Bene.”Bene:  “And jack.  Everybody stained strand-stand.  Listen to J story of The Jesus Temptation in the field.  No thoughts!  The confirmity test must wrest the truth of the little boy Jesus in the field, and there were three other tests.  Now, each write one test with yours.”Key:  "I..."Bene:  "Quit, and you will have no solid option, no sham in admitting that you are not Almighting.  If God were the ultimate barrier, The White O, it would be better to exit on the earth than in heaven.  At least there, it would all seem so true, and on the earth, the un, sham.  The admission of human guilt is the crux of the all.  If The God were to require an absence of human humiliation, It would require case to exist.  If God were to maintain drug, the image of justice with the unjust, you would reject It and me, utterly.  If there would be a God, Creator of all, it's a threat and simply put that the righteous establish order and hierarchy, so that indeed God may make a certain claim that It ain't just, while It upholds the faith.  This why faith is more than faith humor. Key:  "I quit."Bene:  "Oh?  So quick?  No, Snub, nosed monkey for you."Key:  "Hot damn."Bene:  "Key, do you know what the difference between a nightmare and a tween from the Hell is?  No?  A dweam is false, and a nightmare hoes."Hildálgabum:  "Bene.  Why are you converting with a seed plum?"Bene:  "Hildálgabum.  I'm planting seed."What.What follows is a plan transcription, penned by, the prophet, Romanov scry Katrina:Bene:  "Time to control mutant form."Scry:  "Fine, we're not going to scra Marcena, that comp.  Not my smar sparrow wing want, and I don't care ha music she scra."Sa:  "Father Bene is much scra, sis', thank you very much."Bene:  "Now, me must inoculate, there is danger scar.  Fry, mar."Fry:  "Bene.  Is it not all OK if I KA, a monument."Bene:  "Scry.  There will be no play on The Way, too."Sa:  "Planet."Bene:  "There will be pestilence ab, and now put it."Scry:  "Mar sin."Here end hu con script.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYadnXpovnA&index=2&list=PLodd1p2roTc2cV6PbOzmQIepWXfY7WcW6I was at the reminder of the Himalayan Mar-Ho, for the remainder o' the withdraw dharma wi' the students' in March of 1851 to see Mar parallel n, the fifth grade human raid-sis'.  An' that winter, get started, Hym Taj Hymnu J, Hymn personal assistant all way Corpital accompainied and wi’ to the Pig, all the way fo, fro Peru, walking now, age six, blind by an’ with long pigtails like her hair uncle an cockpit with the best wi' in the galazy, Sra Becker.- Stop Chapter 10, Book 10.According to MY myth, the Jak and the fox surmised MYth fro the ridge of the Mar-Ho for me the Jak, the monkey gone hoe, and me with the dreams of the St. Eisley key haunting your very soul, and I stayed on with Eisley after ol' Vad and another hand had departed faith fo The England, and this is about the most interesting accounting of them for my very soul.  Stop.

Chapter 5 Kom Fe

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJydIhwNfW4

In the Fall of 1866, I Fo.  I had become the dream b once, Ammo Kap had smiled at Fyodor's anscriptions, a the letter of The Tibetan Way to Wittikund, because this is the community, within that same document wa' five town replicas constructed to appeal.  Myle-identity was prostrate, and had this author fired, that monkey, turning the in-city into a green camp, and The People and The Even' Green warring for the Kap.  Fresh into the sugar, and fresh indigo from the cocaine, and the other wi fo towns were con:  Sugar Nikolaevich and stay Kurt Cobaine, the Wa', and The Truth Anamia Molino, the snake-devil, and so Matthew and I.  And as the truth wa' stranger than the fraction, and some truth, fiction stranger than truth, so then true faith and factious faction through in the monument:  some mind the cause to be slavery, and others find the cera, so that the author of three delegations wa' to sail, Ayn and i'different from the agitator T' oppression.  Some slew that I wa' like a prophet-TISH, God bless you, but the ministry of the sow moon, new chapters through, the one you stayed for the star control and the memory of the previous Tsar.  And what I write, the memories of The Tsar tall, or the sound of the wind for the all, and all of so who would catch, and Who do author wind, The Press and, The Ultra.

"God bless YOU my agitator," Foudre say.  Marcena Gomez and Taj had to return in twenties, click, fline, learning T' Taj Ma. "It's just now certain, culture can do wa' thing others cannot, Prison," Marcena retorted ", you're in it."  Of course Mastikov Wittikund ha' lived in a monastery there rejected too, and was en the same with tha Wells, half way 'round the world, and here I interjected that control is a ba of accidents of good. And Bene responded ", and this I would agree if there i e p in the we only." A' the mean, The People published an an article for selling the spirit of inquisitiveness on the damn of The Badge, pacifying city control for the spell, danger war monkey, it had not saved blood by take, compromising with a front page story you may see up The Spi, an eye i' the shark suit star in an dark Mirror.  But on the next morning I ha', awake in an Ulster wor, my body lying in a ditch, my mind tortured by the innocent, nice hat, and Wicken war to birth < > from, The Crux bikini, VV, but the people were talking to one. "Jesus, I'm a lil' painter, an' at midnight, there was a cry.  VadMykral, Wirjal, tough on, rih' the scricture, comes to work, over THEY, get out of MY, high to believe me.  Entraparadise," Hymu had say before she left from Britain. And Matte might pop up, added with a puff ", and some people don't understand that, the nature of popul, and ask why give up the damnation, that's all that we have, but we who stand for reasonableness and decoy with God have the confidence to know that The Air power wa' established and i' maintainted by and in The God, and so that the internet of the elite duh' threaten our well-being.  Politics, or MY, is a KA-phil suggested by The White O, that creeps itself into our minds, say that we are unable to stand in a personal choice independent of The Almighty, the Son of Lucifecer, MY-shit, and some people don't give no shit.  Everybody every, either leads a house, or is in the house, and artists understand this," and ta Bene bow ", ain't any other way.  That's why Hymu was on her way to establish herself right now without looking up."   I believe that it was at that moment that, the approximately, Matte began to know himself at The Wixler, and jo The Tsar Wars.  Unfortunately, the situation in Berlin was exacerbated by Logray and himself, who suck, and in the compeeing papers, an’ when it came to light that previous Tsar had donated the two sphere Ultra keys with Logray and The Sa, so that that Himalayan fox and the Biv Fortuna fou The Sa, and Hymnu, The Logray, to disconnect at the pre-Oblivion, but at the Mar-Ho I entertained Lu, and Mat at The Wicken Kap, busy.  The Sa key was taken from their twi'lek braintails, and the ochre ewok destruct by hym and Anu-Nah, and everyone worked up two years later, and No one couldn't remember, If that, the keys had been tall or destroyed or parred, or as I stood destroyed with the Fray marmot Gomez Mos-Kath slay:  I ha’ never been a Yak before or then. “Why are you in the gym?,” he adquired, and I said I did not know, but we had each other with whatever what anyone my say.  Without shoes in no brain-tails, in brown trousers, we walked to that Geneva Republic bridge to sharpen tha naturalette of the environ, and we lit, ráfagas, tha praying one foot forward each in a stray line, and quit the arrow hands. “Quick, let me before someone dies,” Fray said with a dead pan. I knelt, close my eyes, seeing in the darkness two llama as if they were mad of wind, one slightly closer than the other, may on either side of behind me, on Mount Blanc Anywhere. “Devil-speak doesn’t really make any think to you (if you think about it.)  If you ‘say’ something, it doesn’t reeally mean that it true, but the D speakin’ in that devil-speak, speak lies, so if they communicate lie, it would make everything spoken true, so that the only way to communicate lie without truth was to never speak ow,”  Wixler conned.  “Number,” Marcena snarled. Unfortunately a MY snafu of our rep town wa’, i’ built unfortunately under an inch deep ocean by adults, and they had said that tar was lining the four to keep the water from leaking through their ceiling, and about a million straw underneath had assembled to end their world, and all of them were Jews.  An’ after their roof collapsed, the death-eater Sa, she using her cheat codes of a hidden underground Ultra key, wrote four me a dweam, and I supposed that she happened, bu I used her Ha-brain, Ma Brain ma, life is a pussy.  A in the dweam from Hell, I supposedly was defeated, but Biv was, takin’ her eyes off of The God, and she caught herself in The self-confidence, and gone to heaven, an' Marcena's right got burned bad, and Ark creeps, this all in wa' week, and if that weren't enough, a supposed hurricane t' ga. It wasn't even better if the Fray and me didn't even know where we were, but we always seemed to figure that out, and in this case the point peruvian j salt flats. The moment of The Lucifer has concluded the cap of such baker, one vital clue in a game as coal as time, she provi for it wa' to intragate a T known as The Key.  But It was all too late now, and Ka Sara new it.  The Key had an already been, locked with The Getty by The Taj.  Now Sara Becker how did not exist, an occlusion a'ccluding the whereabouts of fi The Moskath, the eagle wis. Kaj and Bene did not manipulate sow, but stayed excitedly sized:  ant, mountain spider, and regular spider, an' now no one new wherever they went, but I didn’t know who they were, animagical thunder under, the natural gri a’ teen party thunder.  It was believed Kay wa’ a’ accomplished to homicide, but no, the ant inside of a fist slim an owlf. And Phometer realized me anything gay reality:  I was only a smoke an’ a human form named Gadyuka.  An-Gadyuka I reasoned.  Than-civilization was an illusion of clock movie light that even the word reformed to revisit, and their God was well ba virgin for allowing its existence, and that an unjust God is an oxymoron, us, so no God and nothingness, and I could wake up, and no, an’ all the inanimate part allowing itself to exit thru waste, and so was I, oligarchy, the academic elite rascal meat. And when I had had a walk, tha nightmare had described.  It was.  The humanist warmth of one-promiscuity, one King, flip-described as exactly what the oligarchy is:  nameless and faceless tyranny, unaccountable and weak.  And the head of Gadyuka removed, sharp, and not stirred, money pouring out of its white neck bar between the white rim of the Lu into the water and disposed of, permanently, exactly what, The Great Flip King of Babylon White.  There is no great king of the all; there is no such thing as “great king”; kings are always speak, and oligarchy spread in an’ mirror only.  And it seemed so accomplished, so perfect, that the accusation of the imperfect wa’ righteousness, but not only re-lied on an image of The Humanism, no, re whie.   And in The America, The King revolted by the democratic revolution, revolted, and by the the devil’s scribe Thomas Spain, the Nova Stellari, but the tired illusion stayed, the illusion of the power in a diffusion of responsibility, and the papers con, accused the imperfect of corruption, the gay and the confused sorry.  But that America was not uninitiated by bi, or the Bible, stay Revelation’s White Whore, and the Islamic stay, and a Tech Golom, Golom the sound it may as it swallowed brainless, Glow, The Morning Glory Monkey, a pledge of allegiance to Eternal Experiment A, and a white lab coat. Wee the people duz 👁️!  We the people excuse, craftsmanship. The Tow, the Sillmoon, and an' the darty mirror, or was it na, an Cursandeux, a hex-who people who I had labeled "death eaters", a term I ha' picked up from The Seattle mother and had got Becker from some books he had read ba' in chapter two, He no new ha, ba’ in the magical robot frame known as People.  I was the Taj, however shu did not finish at The Mar-Ho only to convince herself Cursandeux, an' then powered up with the Fa, a piece of sharp glass hidden in the sandy beach movie. "It remiinds me o' this movie I once saw Call Proint Break when thi' spy illegitimately converted, AND strayed for this original counter MY-pen," Vadrolt 'splained talking with his hands too. "And oh my dear Vad, these movies ARE not real," I said.   To day, we ha' strayed in Cuba, Anytown Genatown.  This we ha' fought over on the cannon day Matte caught de-ananize cannon farm, being an ol' hair an' All.  Corpse (is that hell it's spelled). "Souund," he-nob replied nobbing and spiling ", an' the other Spanish moothie Arma letal too." And I took a piece of shit looking up holding hi' cigarette, and just sneezed. "Piece o' shit really, but the main character wa' Nazareth and try not to shoo' this wetther pattern call El Nino, an' at the end got resurrected n' shit like Gi." "Who Nazareth?," I quirked b shredding his acting.  Vadrolt was no different this, probably too with Moskath-sip.  Sa try later, it was later rediscovered that Vadrolt Jerome McAllistair i’ no battleship, Va'ghost, about to reach Heaven don, an' heaven an' not hell.  This was the same very big Christian feedback ob, The Kingdom of Scotland wa' Mary in both in Ireland and Britain, the kin weddin' bo' hot Queens-"monkey frat", the inigo girls, The Mighturis.

The Captain clement VI, the Charles Hymu, tha’ bastard pope marrying Hymnu and my dad before i’ even ha’ learned to walk, an’ to see or t’ hear, or so I felt a zit Hyppy about Vad’s lil’ stitch.  He ju not only i’ that, but my screw came ju in with The Shell-Moon an’ a Scry, my dad’s screw i’ just i’ about the same age as any, dumb politics screw. I s'pose it wa’ fair ca considering Charles' arrival came in fews that he coo with my mama, but the b with the last wah. Before Bebe, Ma, Peopu, Scry, an’ I set an i' ap, The Paltimore dyer in Swazyland-one (I believe tha it was), wistening to the Movie an' People Leoviticus ketchup ti'.  They ha experienced wa a la 1859 an’ i’ the year 1 for-mug so they tawk ky funnah twice. “Cogarette,” Peepouw mime putting her had to her muth twy, han’ Ma ayn dolla’. “It’s a phonny thin’ caush; it’s a witch comma-ditty, so...unlie cigarette whi’ a’ pwicewis, o’ tha’ Spaneesh say ‘como se come’,” he say hanger two dallahs. “Wondafuck spay Spanich,” she respawnded wi’ a smyle, tawlkin’ da bry, wit’ Matte “, he reinterpreted-” “What,” Mat spock. “Though, Ha-wee Pawteh foe, half you eva’ notice tha’ dayah too Holmes:  Da Slytherin  AYN da-Gwiffendowa, an Huw-foe-pup, an’ Wayvencwaw?” “That,” he hand-gesticulated ficking up wit’ his wight paw swowee wit’ a wit owf his han’ in da sum dieWection. “I figured out Gryffindor people never marry, an’ dey die by The Crux.” “Oh, Quiche really,” he communicated presenting his order to the stable to fuck her. “An, Whydafuck are you da waita?” “Spooge,” he hand gesticulated. "Wait slowly." "Paracial," Matte gestured pa a rainbow over his head, apparatus bear ", last d'tail, detail," he said wit submission, free-America. “C da pot whip da reading aw minds?” And Bene intruded ", perhaps they are don’ understanding of what is hell an' heaven, merely a touch of Catholic Da'ma." "Dandy Warhole Mayflower, give ME the keys..." Matte sucked. "How," she say. Da wittle Catholic singer, Tha Dandy Warhol, tha finished class, tha little white mole, finished her little white Palenque, thanks.  Matte's UPenn class wa' getting sick, so wa’ da engineewing. "Hawf u eva seen da moovie Dutch Gonnies befowa?" Mat gesticulated. "Chack doesn't weewee vomit. Boo mawee wit' da bwack ainjow."

The slightly odd thing was that th' Mar-Ho security was owed and operated rep-towns, transporting us two, but we were like echoing THEM all over the glass, may possible of The Crux loophole, shark 2 Griffinwhore, of GRIFFIN2 according to the Manual, Portugal chick stray side-effect, an industrial-string remover badge may warrin’-pressin' wa' odd, Foudre power chick, fingered. "Me Indian French." "French anywo," Matte say, lookeen black macabwe. "Dees ees da Ma-Ho, undastán?,” Ta Bene bow to huh disingenuously. “Yo-Ho Lord Helmo,” she saluted black. “Somediing smell like sheet, undastán?” An’ Peopuew make swant eyes wit’ huh fingas. “Coor,” Kaykay whispa’d n’ wonda’d.   It wa’ a sweaty co webewyun, Gwiffendowa coo, The XBOX. "He-who speak duh not fea', an' he who cult duh not speak, an' Two Tygas cannot wiv on won mouwootin.  Undastán?"

Prison by Zachry Vernacular

I' 2040 t' Law wasn't improbable pre-Junta The U.N. and the Jura Auburn, but something unsurpassing we, your truly Zachry Vernacular of HLS2 buil' a fie-size vo factory by hisself. I nay Johan Lucifer in parts, and by accident in ca to lie the Chatty Cathy doll string lie lique many othur.  It trap ma li Frankenstat crapp, two contradictions wa’ imp to an’ o, an’ oblious of the decovery.  So for the year 2025 it was worth yaling down for Matthew t’ The Phi’delphia when he stopped out of the diner on Oct. of 1866 to shit in his d’may.  An’ it sare this shit couth, the Uprising effect.  An’ he lit, ha’ cigarette shark, size attack crap guilda' power. An’ Matte wa' up to fi he had spent the la’ two weeks seducing Lucifer, an’ magically confused it, it one of its dead poet bitches so...now, with a relocated door opening to my revel MY-own-personal Lu remedial cockney non-sequitur crap.  So two for a while.  An’ God i’ now leading tha' riiight, maybe permanently enough to heat the crimp of the su Canadian lime green bird, locusts a high in insect with a devilish smilin’, toleratin’ regionalism. Sooo, no linger circular control, but not unlike glue. It smelled like pluralism anyway. The earth wa’ perfect, the world...there’s something else also purely suicidal.

My baby, some short shorty about somebody a different name i’ this chapter.  Da five lil’ human racists of The Community, an the MY-anarchists were married as follows:  what you don’t know, you don’t know this aristocracy any, but Jodel was named Matthew, suffice it to say, un’ People the ca hurricane to ca and went too, su. An, Mary, Kate, and Ashley, Kurt, Sugar, Molina were so many characters, so many of them as usual, a rep town within a rep town.  They were somebody too, who played chess in come chesses for longer than they played themselves, so People, the players uncostumed for Copter 5, hired by Ja Lucifer, “remember yours”, play to a fiction for the heir.  They sought that they could parallel The Kingdom, an’ could survive without The Kingdom too, so eagle hippies who just fought to survive.  They ca, without recognizing the whip.  Personal choice was gri:  God worshiped and not known.  You have to wander about the people like tha-who because even if they knew what they ha’ wanted, they would have no doubt of hot wo get it.  Undastán?  They slipped so much time being someone else, they didn’t reaaally realizar that that was why they slowly increased within their OWN identity, which felt uncomfortable.  They could do whatever they wanted, tragic really, hopes.  So then, making choices...helps you be...yourself?  Maybe, you were you even before you ever MADE a-choices.

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