Memory Lane has a few Potholes in it

"an obvious attraction to the path of most resistance "


Did you hear the one about the drag queen who was so fucked up on special K , they wouldn’t let her into the club?

She yelled to the bouncer, “BITCH, Do I have ANY idea who I am !?!??!!?”

This blog is periodically backed up at , as of the 17-May-22 backup it’s being generated by a third party plugin that reduces the file size by about 50% and it seems like from here on out I can automate what had formerly been a very time-consuming and slopp(ier) pagination process.

“All men should try to learn before they die: What they are running from, and to, and why.”

oh stan,

this “diseased, perverted , scrawny faggot with a short time to live …”

and a fake “so called business” you were going to serve my mommy with papers and sue me for …

is a registered partner of a regulated mx company thats had 1.1M in sales month to date. weird, i had to work my ass off and do reams of regulatory and other paperwork for the “so called” american business that operates at a loss

I migrated in the other direction with little more than my $326 car, the grubby clothes on my back, and the same tired ass nipsey hussle tshirt , not speaking a language or having my bearings. I don’t know what else I’d do, I’ll keep driving my 17 year old car with 300000km, I’ll keep rocking the same tired ass nipsey shirt, I’ll stay in my two room concrete casita cause I am happy with what I already have.

I haven’t touched a cent from selling the house and I love stimulus checks from the United States that I use to file nuisance lawsuits against them or invest directly into the Mexican economy. You do whatever you will with *your* anger at them, but for fucks sake be original about it. What does it matter if I am a “russian bot,” I bet you could easily replace a few lines of code and reprogram me to replace my useless, corrupt, former fucking state senator. I run on caffiene, xanax, and unadulerated rage as a clean, green renewable energy source. She is a far less efficient , OLDER, and less sophisticated model who requires a $4 to $700 million dollar annual operating budget and still cries that it is not enough.

Which corrupt state senator? Glad you asked, that leads into “why did you sell your place and move?”

yeah, i know, i still have aids. to borrow an old joke about French Ghana, “you can leave Man’s Country, but Man’s Country never leaves you.” I don’t want to explain how that works here. I’m going to say, it is true that you cannot get IMSS with a pre existing condition, but that they do have the equivalent of what you call ADAP.

I’m still going back this to whole critique of there’s no central, overarching theme, he just calls everyone bitches and cunts and stupid mother fuckers , like we’re Anna Wintour or something – is that NOT a “central, overarching theme ?” Or maybe this is just my stupid fucking diary. Assume that this post is thinly veiled sarcasm, and assume that my current and/or past “audience” is totally unknown to me. It would be an understatement to say that the commentary from those who do have the ability to contact me (it is clearly not difficult, these fuckheads managed to do so from 5 countries and at least 7 different US states) has not been positive. Nonetheless, I write “for me,” and, possibly, for someone who has no fucking idea who I am but might come across this in a year or five or .. a dirty bottle washes ashore, a dirty needle washes ashore, if you have a classical “NDE,” think of yourself as a dirty bottle washing up on a bright white “shore” of light, and think of yourself as a “note” or a “message” of sorts, that someone might crumple up very angrily upon reading it. They are mediating all potential outcomes, convergencies, and future possibilities, future states, and future you’s and future me’s , but know nothing about the past, only what is neccessary to calculate the “now” because it is necessary to do so without the bias or the bitterness that I might have about a person or a place or a personal circumstance.

If you are hurting, or feel unheard in the oppressive constructs of our current society and/or those who mediate what is or is not acceptable to say , know that “whatever the hell it is,” we are not alone or the final stop on this journey – in the final analysis you are a tape recorder, you are a message in a bottle, and I am not really fucking sure who the recipient is or what they do with that information.

From what I recall, I am explicitly not supposed to remember (entirely) what happened. Or “what didn’t happen,” if you’re one of my crackpot psychotherapists.

I’m annoyed enough to cut the shit already and make a bald-faced claim that I have experienced technology that works on the reverse premise of “animal repellant” devices and heals the human body, that a healthy human body has a healing or symbiotic relationship with plants and trees and its overall environment, and that the earth itself is repaired by a mediating force I understand to be “chi,” and you can’t … go as far as understanding what is outside of this sphere if you do not understand what is inside of this sphere. It will be inherited and in the domain of those who loved it enough to persist or partake in the cleanup. I don’t know what else to tell you other than I feel cheated and I wish I was there instead of here.

Telepathy was deemed to be too invasive, future interfaces are essentially , sort of a hybrid holographic/telepathic interface that you can kind of figure out .. about as easily as you did your first iphone, and it’s a far more pleasant user experience.

Fuck being vague. Clock me on it. I accept the challenge to post or comment on something that means nothing to you today, and there is no reason a civilian who just “runs around the country shooting up drugs and running the na chatroom” , as you have described me in the past, who should have a point of reference for posting in 2022: “OSF protocol,” which I will liken to the “control + alt + del trap” in a modern linux distribution’s inittab, you would need to understand what both of these are for this comparison to make any sense and for this one to “check out.” I do not watch television or for the most part movies, so I am immune (for the most part) to being accused of being affected by “predictive programming,” with two possible exceptions. This OSF protocol is artistically expressed very well in the movie “Run Lola Run” when they’re in bed together and she gets a do-over the next day, and then I am very quite likely possibly influenced by predictive programming by a movie called “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in musing whether it is beneficial or ethical to wipe you clean of your traumas if such a technology ever were to surface.

Would you make the same mistakes, would you fall in love with that person again?

……….. well, I got some butterflies that want to ask , “why wouldn’t you?” ………….

Here’s the next one: Alternating Current (AC) needs to go, it is harmful to human health. DC and/or ZPE win, as uncomfortable and/or costly it is to make the conversion(s) necessary. One of the main reasons it needs to go, is that rather than “increasing your production and output or building more plants,” AC transmission has a LOT OF LOSS over transmission and distribution lines, and you would regain more distribution capacity by eliminating the LOSSES from AC transmission alone, than you are going to gain from increasing generation and or transmission capacity of the AC infrastructure , this isn’t a “if,” this is a “when,” just run the math on the inefficiencies and loss on transmission alone and surrender to this idea.

Eventually you will have no choice in the matter, but you’ll put it off until it really is a global catastrophe because that is how you do things.

Is that “specific enough” for you?

I’m going to be really fucking disappointed if this isn’t going to be something that is a part of my time here, I guess it was, for a minute, and then it “wasn’t” no one’s ever going to call a press conference and say “oh yeah, stuff like this does happen” but the sham and the drudgery will pay dividends if you care to partake in it.

Not that anybody asked… I’m over “a few of” the core resentments, I had planned to go through Texas and stop at “that godawful place” and give Rob C a huge hug along with anyone else who is still around, alive, and/or trudging along. I’m not mad at my ex, I don’t know if it was too forward to tell him they were playing that Shakira song on the ferry to Maztalan and it wrecked me. It’s unlikely I’m returning and I don’t know if we will see or talk to each other again. I’m just happy we found a way to say “it’s okay” to each other. Thing is, I .. really would love nothing more than to darken the doorstops I always darken from time to time , but I kinda wrecked my old car and started it on fire on the way to the US in September.

And then 2/2 I hit the leftover pieces of el perro muy muerte , who had unfortunately decided to play that old Atari game “Dogger” on the Autopista and lost his argument with the SUV in front of me. I go okay, car’s fixed, I’m ready to go back the United States; and then I get rear ended by a mother fucking bus. LOL.

^My Spanish remains terrible, but if you are bilingual and enjoy a better mastery of Spanish than I currently possess, you recognize the construction of “losing his argument with the SUV” , god help us, I was cracking jokes in a second language before I spoke it, no wonder I only ever had like maybe 3 k-12 teachers who didnt hate my guts. I was way before my time with what will come to be known as the sarcastic 2000s, it wasn’t “socially acceptable” when I was a child, but I will just quietly direct your attention to what occurs , or is “socially acceptable” in any k-12 classroom today and then dare you to call me a bad student — or even a badly behaved student, for that matter — again. My personal theory is that the release of Alanis Morisette’s “Jagged Little Pill” started a societal avalanche in the general direction of this style of “humor.”

If we ever were to be contacted or intercepted in some fashion by someone or something that exists in a parallel dimension or elsewhere in the metaverse, I imagine that it would be a challenge to “crack the code” and figure out English communication, but to then not understand social cues or the so-called “sarcastic 2000s,” and if we are alone out here spinning on some fucking rock or the “flat earthers” are on to something , then strictly speaking in terms of what actually exists, persists, or presents challenge in the real world, right here right now, today:

It has to be a fucking nightmare for people who specialize in Artificial Intelligence (AI) , that is how you end up with a “Tay” problem, and that is probably one of the MAIN reasons why dickheads like Zuck don’t like dickheads like me on their playground, and for what that has cost me … in terms of regular contact with my family … or damage to an already unsteady social standing to begin with, no, I will never EVER shut up about what you’re getting wrong here and doing to destroy the fabric of our society, and or possibly even drive our species towards sterilization and/or extinction. Y’all are scared of a comet? You should be as terrified of FB/Meta’s logo as you are the number “666.” If your bots don’t comprehend sarcasm or can’t win a debate, then you need to write better bots.

I have not been home since January 6th, what the fuck. I must not be meant to. my thoughts on this matter would probably get me committed to a sanitarium.

hows your “so called company” doing?

oh wait, we own it and it points to our website. bahaahahahaa.

“I’m Troy McClure. You might know me from movies such as Resentment Gone Wild, Volumes 5 and 7!”

How does one coherently explain decoherence?

What I refer to as a “rift” is what others have referred to as “decoherence” — there’s this big dome like thing and everything’s orange and its on fire, and there’s vaccum cleaners in the sky and shit — and everyone knows EXACTLY what the fuck is going on, but what a difference one day makes and it just “never happened.” I have personal experience of two of these events roughly along DEW lines and/or the southern so-called border, and predict another one kind of the roughly somewhere in the area of Pennsylvania — I’ve already commented on this publicly and it’s possible that this one will be dodged, because 1) fuck off, I’m tired and I want nothing to do with it , 2) the window of opportunity for it has passed, and 3) predicting such an event could cause a radical paradigm shift with unpredictable consequences if/when such a very extremely specific claim were to check out.

One day a street in Clearwater has two hotels from the exact same brand/chain and franchise mere blocks apart , and then when you wake up the next day, only one of the hotels is there … You wonder why I go on these tangents .. about … your most basic assumptions, challenging just one or two of those is enough to cause enough of a radical paradigm shift to result in said “decoherence” and now you know why, the propaganda and the shit on your “idiot box” has to be so — the radical paradigm shift, the “decoherence, ” causes such a divergence that one possibility ceases to exist. Re-read me. It’s all over this blog.

And you come home to find out that your mom was in some weird headspace where she’d invited the authorities into your house to search for drugs and weapons because she was terrified you were about to go , like commit a mass shooting or something heinous like that?

… and you’re just discredited as an addict or a lunatic .. I haven’t disagreed that I’m lunatic, but where the hell did she even get that idea from and why were these police accepting an invitation into my home, to toss it and search it with no warrant and no probable cause or any reasonable basis to do so?

I told you those fuckers tried to set me up in the early 2000s — its true, the case may be wiped but the receipts are at the courthouse and in both newspapers archives , and I can’t imagine they appreciate what I say about them but its true.

I feel like I had another close call with somehow getting blamed for something … again … it was not very long — hours, maybe a day or two — after I’d posted the pictures I’d taken of that newscast and they’d hacked my fucking blog and set all that into motion? Knowing what I know today I don’t believe them about “Doc.”

I was not , and am not, on drugs , although that’s your favorite means to discredit me or anything or anything I have to say about whatever the fuck happened.

Is it possible that the ability for apparently contradictory individual experiences , is more closely related to many-minds than I think you think that it is, because what is and a mind , and what is matter anyway?

Wayne used to always say “love is a sophisticated subroutine running on a computer made of meat.”

This is fucking cool:

The non-contradictory, simultaneous nature of multiverses is better described by the Everett Interpretation, but neither many-minds nor multiverses can exist under the premise of duality: “for everything there is, there is something it isn’t.”

Another way of looking at duality , is to that is to say, that “for everything there is, there is something that it isn’t, unless there isn’t” and if there is, then who or what observes, experiences, or arbitrates it?

Is an atom in one of the pebbles under your sandals an “observer” — pleased to offer itself in service to your objective experience, humming “I’m an atom, I’m an atom, I’m an atom” eternally?

What if a bunch of people screaming about you being a larp, or insane, forgot all you and then twenty years later someone else came across it and said “hey, wait a minute, this is actually really fucking interesting?”

I had a dream at Norris , where the unit manager brought out a ladder one time and he hung a clock on the wall. The clock in question had been sitting on the top of the bookshelf in his office for the entire time I had been on the unit.

The next morning, my jaw dropped open as he did exactly that same very thing and put the clock exactly where I dreamt he had. I was excited and told him all about it and he just scowled at me and told me to go back to sleep and come back with next week’s winning lottery numbers.

Apparently that is just … how peoples minds work and where their minds go.

I’d probably counter back with “what is money, anyway?” but what the hell does a 13 year old know anyway?

I know THAT happened, despite his sarcastic and dismissive reaction to it.

I go .. what other experiments do they do to kids? “Hey we’re here to have you solve a puzzle” “some men are here to do a test on you.”

Why kids? Well, they have no idea what is in their environment or how it works.

A 39 year old me might be like “what the fuck, is there an MRI behind this wall?”

Except, in the occasional circumstance where you know how more things work than they are particularly amused with and they need to use better locks for you.

So okay, I am finding out that there are …. other people … who say this shit and call it other things than I do. If people’s minds immediately go to “well, go back and get me those lottery numbers” or “I want a wining horse name for the derby,” then what makes you think that if GE or one of those motherfuckers literally invented a “time machine” wouldn’t be just as callous or greedy or opportunistic and alter the course of history in the favor of themselves, their shareholders, their business interests?

Or .. ah fuck it let’s call it that , without splitting hairs into whether it is a distortion, alteration, warping, or bending of “time” or “perception” because time is a manifestation of perception any fucking way, but what if they did it and …

And said we’re going to go back in time and own everyone and everything, or fuck things up so badly and catastrophically that they diverged enough to create a final decoherence. Ask, why would someone “from 2036” interact with us or be desperate to acquire a machine that could translate mainframe languages?

What happens in 2038? The end of 32-bit unix epoch time. I just imagine they’d let everything run and run and run and and run and just deny the problem until kaboom, it was totally fucking unrecoverable? What would me think corporations or politicians would do such a stupid , reckless thing when they have 16 years to fix it? Is it more important to go back and erase any potentiality where anyone involved in this was named, blamed, or held accountable for what they did?

Or just race to acquire and own all technology, all media, all patents, all intellectual property as fast as you fucking can and install the machinery to silence or eliminate anyone or anything who …. has the persistence of memory in a “rift” ?

Why “must” the war happen?

Why “must” the agendas happen?

Why must these two countries go to war with one another?

Why “must” the United States go through a period of uprisal and upheaval or experience class strife, racial strife, etc?

Says who?

Why does it have to be exactly so?

“Why did SHE have to win?”

“Why, must HE absolutely not, under any circumstances, be allowed to win?”

Why are they calling it “terrorism” to question the results of that election?

What is decoherence?

A paradox where there is a reality where original World Trade Center still stands.

Or, let’s use my favorite one to make fun of, “JFK Jr is still alive.”

I sit here staring at the wall, wondering “what the fuck, what if X really happened?”

They silence us , because WE have the potential to create a “decoherence” event.

A window of opportunity, a rift, will be closing , if it hasn’t already.

There appears to be some way of .. being taken along for a ride , here. But my presumption is that most of us would continue going on as we are in the here and now, and they would continue going on as they are in their here and now, except their “history” and narrative would diverge so much they could no longer contain or control whatever the fuck it is that they are doing.

Part of the problem with that is a whole generation of people who “just wanted to retire” , or “ship it anyway” knowing it was faulty, the people who “just want the trains to run on time” let the 2038 problem happen and then by then pretty much everyone left is too stupid to actually do anything about it, because of your you-know-what hiring practices. Even in 2019 I was explaining “DST” to these idiots.

Just as they do today , “oh. shit. we’re going have to fix this in two years aren’t we?”

What if we don’t make those choices, that we didn’t want to make anyway?

And let them live with their choices, their arrogance, their refusal to take a constituent’s call , or shouting down the one person in QA who says “uh hey guys, um, there’s a flaw in this design”


Worst case scenario they come after me with the butterfly net and my case manager renews my benefits for another year next year.

Best case scenario, the world isn’t as awful as I’ve supposed that it is, unless it’s way worse than I’ve supposed that it is.

Why do all of these fucking corporations and billionaires and people participate in this? Low IQ take: “huh huh huh, they drink children’s blood.”

I don’t know, maybe, just fucking look at some of them.

But what if these “big tech” companies are covering up something they already did , that from our perspective, never happened yet?

Do I have your attention yet?

Clones .. at least the way you do them now .. are one dimension lower than their original, and the world you wanted to throw away like a used Kleenex is the only one capable of sustaining them.

Argon. Argon, that’s what it was.

“Well, fuck.”

  • Anything you experience is (subjectively) real.
  • Question it anyway. Reality testing, or lack thereof, is what breaks a man.
  • I don’t want to talk about the things I don’t want to talk about.
  • I regret taking the bait on divisive topics and indulging in hatred.
  • Secondarily to that, I regret paying any mind to “political theater.”
  • Everything else I’ve said, is just wherever my imagination goes.
  • (Or it’s just what I’m interested in.)
  • I feel like I have my moments where I come across as foolish or crazy.
  • I hope I remain teachable.
  • I should have stuck to poetry, abstract, and/or the metaphorical.
  • Even though I’ve been told that I’m no Kerouac.
  • I don’t mind “sounding crazy” if you needed something you found here.
  • I don’t really want to “be that guy,” although I will if I feel like I need to.
  • I have have been discouraged and had the limits of my patience tested.
  • In more ways, and by more people, and over more things than I’ll ever say.
  • When I dwell too much on feeling victimized, I grab the dishsoap and I do the honors myself. I’m a survivor. God help you if you’re so unsteady that I ended up serving a purpose as your “rock” at some point but we’re still here.
  • The “Adversary” is real, and most of my problems in life arise from people who delight in doing his bidding and will never feel sorry or bad about it, no matter whether you kick ass and take names or shine a light on it. The best you’re ever going to get is a “hey so I’m looking for work and this looks bad.”
  • It is bad. You absolute fucktard. I will forgive, but never turn my back on you.
  • I have faith that there are people trying to protect aeons of human history.
  • I’ve wasted too much time and energy thinking “elected” officials matter.
  • I’ve wasted too much time and energy thinking “elected” officials serve “us.”
  • “They don’t care about us.” , Hee hee! Michael Jackson is one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, one of the real ones, someday you’ll hear his testimony. If you don’t believe that, then there is at least one thing we don’t have in common.
  • You’re still here.
  • I’m still here.
  • “I’ve said too much, and I haven’t said enough.”
  • I’m responsible for what I’ve said, and some it is pretty heinous and hateful.
  • I had, and I have no reason to believe I will ever be anything but disregarded.
  • I had, and I have no reason to believe I will ever be anything but ignored.
  • Or dismissed as a crank or a nuisance or a headache to even respond to.
  • I mumbled incoherently in the basement about getting my red stapler back.
  • Google underreported my traffic, convincing me that +/- 8 people read this.
  • I danced, shitposted, and wrote like nobody was watching.
  • With the exception of that time I finally got so fucking pissed off about “you know exactly what,” everyone fucking knows what — I redirected your traffic here and made that whole world stand still until 32,000 people read what I said about it.
  • But if those bullies hadn’t quit their shit I’d have 41%’ed myself.
  • After all I did to defend you, you didn’t have shit to say to them about it.
  • I probably could have handled that better, it’s your turn to admit the same.
  • I regret we could have done so much better working together instead of against each other, or crying “she goes, or I go” and “he goes or I go.” Do you?
  • Big fucking deal, I fell down in battle for awhile. It’s okay – go on without me.
  • Cloudflare’s reporting suggests that Google deliberately underreports hits.
  • By like … a …. lot ….. and I am not looking at that again or I’ll get self-conscious about it and worry if it’s “too over the top” or worry about “performing.”
  • I’m glad Google under-reports your traffic/audience. I would have been more concerned about “how it looked” and… some of it’s really fucking funny … even though … the Britney Spears Level Meltdowns aren’t really something … a lot of people would put out there.
  • I am sorry for unintended consequences, ie embarrassing anyone but me.
  • …….Unless you tried to ruin my life or threaten me ….. then “FAFO, bitch.”
  • I am not, however, sorry , for refusing to let “them” make me walk through this silently, ostracized, deplatformed, losing my shit or alone in any of this.
  • I am responsible for considering the … ramifications.. from this point forward.

“I had much more important things to do, and did at the White House, than being on the cover of Vogue.”

I’ve talked some shit about her husband and I’m so pissed off right now that I’ve incinerated the fucking red cap , what fucking difference does it make, they took my society and my community and shoved all that into the incinerator, fuck a flag and fuck the maga hat, as lefties would say, they’re both just a “clump of cotton.”

I’m living what you might call a brutally honest program and/or life and I just fucking cried my eyes out watching this interview with Melania.

“People always criticize me no matter what I do. And I’m used to that. I move forward and I’m here to [help] people. And that is the reason. And I would encourage those people to help in their own community. Or maybe join my Fostering the Future initiative.”

I’m not a well woman right now, and I need some time and space and to participate on my own terms and/or not participate at all, if that’s what “self care” looks like for me right now. Don’t even fucking pretend that any of us are easy to deal with.

Hell no, I’m not “burning the chatroom down again,” I’m just … not that fucking important … and it runs itself, and the only thing that’s going to “close it down” is a lack of further public or group interest and/or participation. It’s reassuring to know I could drop dead tomorrow and you guys would find a way to throw Kiwi or something up on a webpage and keep going. I do NOT have the power to stop you.

I’ve always had that inner restlessness and “itchy feet” and a mind that’s already 200 miles ahead of me up the highway but I’m having a moment here where I’m just tired and I’m in bed all day, every day … and normally my place is spotless and febreezed and I never go to bed with a dish in the sink — but I got hit by a bus and for a minute there, sure as hell feel like a guy who’s been hit by a bus. La Duena would have shrieked if she’d stopped by and seen what a mess this place was.

48 states.. 7 countries.. over 2,000,000 miles on the highway .. and I think about Chris from time to time and how he would say “you can’t do that forever.”

It’s taken a little bit of time and more than a few xanax bars to even get me to where I can go outside and smoke on my porch lately. La Duena’s noticing that I don’t trim my beard and I’m wearing the same fuckin Nipsey Hussle shirt every day. She’s been giving me concerned looks and asking me if everything’s good.

I haven’t been disappearing off to CDMX or Guadalajara for days or weeks lately.

It is and it isn’t. I sent a couple pictures of the eclipse from my porch and said “noche oscuro, I love you.”

This is a pretty fucking bright midnight moon.

I pulled out my sim card cause I’m not going to worry about the silence anymore.

I have a new telephone number and imessage handle tonight.

Night Light

Every hardship is here to teach us how to dance with this life,
So if some sensation of failure rises up inside,
Remember what it means to shine your light.
Take. One. Deep. Breath.

How many times have you found yourself listening to some

Thought convincing you that nothing would ever get better?
How many countless moments 
Bound by such insidious fetters –
Substances, thoughts, fears, insecurities?

How many times have I railed at the world, at my child, my family?

Moments when hurting myself seemed to offer me some sort of sanity.

Inhale one deep breath with me.

And exhale; let your body just settle and rest.

Let the breathing be easeful and smooth,

Let this peace emerge from within you,
And let this quiet be your food, for a few more seconds.

This is how you cultivate a state of meditation.

This is when you bring coherence to your entire system.

And as you accrue time in this state of meditation,

This state eventually becomes your steadfast quality of being.

Even when things seem intolerably challenging.

“Since I’m already screwed here’s a message to you.”

I’d made the “mistake” of oversharing or confiding in people as a young man.

Didn’t really result in much besides gossip, judgement, and social ostracism.

The one that pissed me off was being accused of making stuff up for “pity.”

I guess I … just got this sense of determination.

That I was not a thing to be pitied.

I had “other fish to fry,” and other things that interested me as a writer.

My Twitter accounts do not tend to stick around for long.

Rarely due to outright “banning,” but just because I cannot deal with the world or I get overloaded by too much psychic garbage or propaganda and I see myself out.

I’ve said “a little bit” about it here and there-

Or I’ve shared multiple anecdotes about escaping from institutions.

Which aren’t “things to be proud of” or that a “normal” person would announce.

But 12 years in that chatroom have taught me that .. I’m far from alone .. and someone’s always holding on to something … alienating .. or that “otherness” that ate away at you and maybe that looks different for you, maybe it’s an easier sell that you’re “in the wrong body” or whatever this “otherness” is they’re dumping on kids these days , and I’m all about Paris bringing attention to that, that I never could , no matter how fucked up or compelling of a yarn I could spin about it. The end result for us as adults are unhealthy coping mechanisms that either stopped working or never worked as well as they thought they did. Mine was in, always trying to make others laugh.

People tell me I need to “go to therapy” or “IOP” or “see a psychiatrist,” or like that one dumb ass friend of Kylon’s who said “You should look up NAMI” as if I wasn’t a fucking guinea pig for 20-some-odd medications and as a kid and literally tortured. I’ve been in the revolving door for 30 years and was calling my last shrink “Dr. MMMMHMM” because I’d get ignored for 5 minutes and get a $280 bill.

I tried hanging myself after the whole thing with them sending me to the youth prison for refusing conversion therapy. And I had “lovely” healing sessions with Dr. Janice Munizza which went , basically along the lines of her making accusations at young black men that they’ll never amount to anything or be dead or in jail or grow up to criminals. She told me I was destined to rape little girls, I was queer as fucking 3 dollar bill but she just kept hanging labels of criminality and sexual deviancy or whatever on these kids who had to have been 11.. 12.. 13 ?

And I bet a whole bunch of them are dead or in prison or they are the walking wounded from what this fucking cunt did to them.

I keep making nasty remarks about how psychiatrists are fucking war criminals.

And she’s the one I’m talking about when I say that.

This isn’t a fucking joke.

It’s okay if you “don’t know what to say to this,” there just “isn’t a thing to say about it” and there isn’t a card for this particular situation at the Hallmark Store.

I’m definitely.. emotionally a gay man and I am very uncomfortable being hit on by men OR women. I had a crush on their PCT Paul? I think pedos belong in the wood chipper?

There’s so much I don’t say , but sometimes in those dreams, you know, the “oh god, no, not you fucking people again,” I’ve dreamt that Kylon was on this one.

And it ended up being, well, Paris Hilton and Paris Jackson cracking this open.

I’m 40 and I’m angry about the way things have gone for these last few years. In the sense that … ya know … I was never really accepted anyway , and then over these last few years the rejection over stupid shit like party lines and petty disagreements just really … took my alienation level from 9 and cranked it to 11.

They never feel bad about it or even think about you at all when they’re done.

I’ve said that some words from Janet Mock and Nadia Bolz Weber saved or changed the course of my life. I have not claimed that they made a .. particularly “whole” or “healed” , and maybe at times not an altogether “nice” man. I am just telling you, that I wanted to die and “you kept me alive.”

(another Linda Perry song) .. the rest could use some work .. and .. maybe sometimes toning down the language about who and what I’m still at odds with.

I was always uncomfortable when someone complimented me or I heard the 500th guy say my eyes were pretty. You could almost hear the glass shards inside of me breaking, knowing you’re gonna leave like everyone else who ever said that.

It’s not really helping my dating prospects to be like “so I’ve really only wanted one guy for the last 16 years-“ and not have you feeling like a consolation prize for it.

I … hope.. you …could tell. ‘Cause I don’t “do that” with just fucking anybody or relax like that, when I’m clean. I don’t hold you like that, I don’t check out the patterns of your irises or kiss you like that. Are you fucking kidding me, I don’t even want you to hug me, let alone fuck or love you like that if I don’t like you.

There’s one guy out there who knows , all of me , and he thinks I’m cool , we tremble when we’re near each other and he can always calm me down. I know we love eachother. It fucks me up, but I don’t have to explain anything or perform or be anyone or anything, other than just at his side if and when he lets me.

And that .. can be .. a very .. long … fucking … time… before … I see him again.

I’m 40 and I don’t feel like waiting for my prince to peel back my layers and discover my lovelier , inner, fucked up me. I’m tired of holding my breath and seeing if you can “deal.” Most people can’t. I just expect it and I’ve quit trying.

It’s fucking exhausting, and this the never ending cycle of “painful involvement” and “painful alienation.”

“Why are you so quiet?” “Why are you shy?”

‘Cause I don’t know you and I don’t feel safe or comfortable with you yet.

“You’re not into me.”

“Are you straight or something?”

But it’s gotten me sober and celibate and no longer “looking,” and just .. living with .. whatever I’m living with or feeling .. about who and what I lost over the choices I made. Like that Stevie Nicks song “Dreams,” I always had a feeling —

Or like that Forrest Gump movie, I watched it and I was like oh no, I’m going to be “Jenny” all coked out and aids infected and just curl up on the couch and die.

Here we go:

The two links I refer to are here:

Anywhere on this road

I live in this country now
I’m called by this name
I speak this language
It’s not quite the same
For no other reason
Than this it’s my home
And the places I used to be far from are gone

You’ve travelled this long
You just have to go on
Don’t even look back to see
How far you’ve come
Though your body is bending
Under the load
There is nowhere to stop
Anywhere on this road
My heart is breaking

I cannot sleep
I love a man
Who’s afraid of me
He believes if he doesn’t
Stand guard with a knife
I’ll make him my slave

For the rest of his life

I love this hour
When the tide is just turning
There will be an end
To the longing and yearning

If I can stand up
To angels and men
I’ll never get swallowed
In darkness again

You’ve travelled this long
You just have to go on
Don’t even look back to see
How far you’ve come

Though your body is bending
Under the load
There is nowhere to stop
Anywhere on this road

Lhasa de sela


I kept having dream .. after dream … after dream .. after dream .. about Jack’s house last night. The one I overdosed in and had that hellacious NDE in.

It started life as a duplex, then at some point in its life it was a 24-room boarding house, and then ultimately it became an 8-unit apartment building.

Since then it’s been remodeled into a million plus dollar single family home, and the property taxes alone on it are over $20,000 USD/year.

And oh if I could afford the taxes, let alone the property, I *so* would.

I moved from apartment 1W , over to apartment 1 and shacked up with George. We were kinda mischevious and did things like rubbing a hacksaw against the metal shower curtain rod just to freak Jack out and make him think we were sawing the walls open or doing some kind of unauthorized construction or something. We’d hear him run across the floor and start listening to the wall and trying to figure out what we were doing. We’d giggle and take turns with the saw.

Kind of fucking mean, kind of fucking funny.

It’s not funny when he’s evil towards YOU.

But it was kind of funny when we both had it out for someone we both disliked.

But I kept having dreams about what was happening in the room around me while all that was going on, as if I were above my own body and also watching the room.

It was pretty horrifying.

I kept waking up and wondering where the fuck I was and feeling like there were other people in my house with me.

I’d look around and hear the roosters screaming and the parrots sqwaking and remember where I am– oh, yeah, hey dummy you’re home in your own bed!

Not the first time I’ve done that.

Dreams are — sometimes — a process of interpreting and reassembling your experiences.And I did not … enjoy this one at all.

And every time I fell asleep again I picked up right where I was, and right where that dream left off. I’m just like oh dear god, I’m going senile, I’m regressing ain’t I?

And yet, in the dream, I just wanted to go downstairs to “my old apartment,” 1W, I kind of wanted “my old apartment” back, and yet all the same in this dream I had my wits and bearings enough to know damn well that it wasn’t there anymore, it hadn’t been for almost 20 years, and that it was just the kitchen now.

The room in back where I overdosed and nearly died is just an unfinished HVAC cubby now and … I think .. thats for the best, if you own that place today, just go ahead and close that panel off and screw it shut there’s some fucked juju there.

My old apartment, 1W, is a beautiful open floorplan kitchen now.
Donnasaurus — and then, eventually, George St. George’s apartment is .. really nice now. Little to no sign of what used to be “Jack’s apartment,” that entire floor was removed to make it a 2 story open floorplan
While they were renovating it, I snuck in and took the built in hutch out of the wall from my apartment. As far as I know, it’s still in Wisconsin in one of my aunt’s garages if I ever come back for it.

“I’ve been way too much, or I haven’t been enough.”

As I’m .. working on that last post , SPYtify (Spotify) cues up a song.

I had just been belting along to Georgia Anne Muldrow. *suspicious glare*

So like, my favorite images are the ones where… someone who isn’t supposed to be there. Who’s like in a space, a space where we were not ever welcomed in.. we were not invited .. Yet we walk in and we show all the way up. People try to, put us down by saying:

“She’s doing the most.”


“He’s way too much.”

But like, why would we want to do the least?

Words that saved my life a few years ago. I don’t know if that would put a smile on her face or make her cringe and ask “oh no, what hell have I wrought upon this earth?”

I have so many questions about life, and one of those, would be for her: “what was the third time you heard that ‘faint, irritating buzzer?’ “

Shhhh, don’t ruin it for me.

“and if I call you … don’t make a fuss…”

… “Don’t tell your friends about the two of us.”

I keep saying “one of these days I’m not taking that motherfuckin call.”

One of these days, Alice! Pow! Straight to my voicemail!!!!

Don’t front, that’s the real reason you haven’t changed your number in 7 years.

“Bitch you don’t know what you believe in!” “I’m leavin! I hate chu! I hate chu!”


He’s telling me about some kind of inductive camping stove that regenerates itself from heat and has run on the same battery packs for three years. “Wait, wait, wait, motherfucker? Send me a link. I have to have propane trucked in to boil my coffee and this shits starting to get expensive.”

What the fuck, man. Let’s shoot at beer cans and laugh through the apocalypse.

We’re talking shit about whatever I’m doing with my money. I’ve been investing in Mexico because my reasoning is, “I can always go back home” and if BOTH countries economies or currencies collapse, then I have WAY bigger problems than “Oh nooooooes, my stonks!” I just wrote about that here, or somewhere.

Mexico already did a currency re-valuation at a ratio of 1:1000 in 1993, that will more than likely be the direction the United States ends up heading in. That’s not an “if,” it’s a when. Clock me on this, ask anyone who fucking knows me, I’ve been telling you the whole house of cards is gonna collapse in our lifetimes since 2005.

And yeah yeah yeah, we were all fucked up and it was probably killing your buzz.

But bitch, was I WRONG?

Billionaires and trillionaires hoard money and have an insatiable lust for money, they don’t “use their money to solve hunger” because they know that in very short order, they’re “only going to be millionaires or billionaires!” Oh noeeeeeeees!

I’m getting exhausted from giving people these talks and I can no longer remember what I’ve tweeted or blogged or said on the phone or posted things on 4chan that I’m going to deny ever authoring , or be like the Democrats and their “muh twitter account was hacked” .. nah just kidding, fuck you, I meant 3/4 of it!

If anything I’ve had to TONE IT DOWN so I don’t get kicked the fuck off here, too.

Before you get pissed off I am an equal opportunity “hater” and I want every fucking incumbent from both sides of the aisle removed. I have already told you if you wanted to read some gay man’s garbage hot take on why the bad orange man is wrong about something, there are 8,000,000,000 other websites for that.

I’m just going to say, that “brexit” fucked their global consolidation, not directly because of Trump, but because the UK bought what he was selling and voted for that.

I briefly touched on the fifth columns of America, Israel, and Ukraine already but with Bibi out of the picture, Ukraine is (temporarily) going to be what Israel was.

Interpret that statement as you will, based on whatever you think that you know.

Just ONE of these dominoes tipping the wrong way will fuck 30+years of planning.

Maybe Trump could have “saved” this godless, gutless, murderous regime .. but now the masks and gloves are off and they have been exposed for what they are, honestly, who the fuck would still want him to save any of these peoples careers?

Funny anecdote:

Trump campaigned using Reagan’s “Make America Great Again” slogan.

Hillary campaigned using Fidel Castro’s slogan (“Adelante”), “Forward” in English.

Americans did not pick up on that, but the so called “democrats” are printing “Adelante” on their signs, posters, and campaign materials directed at um, “latinx.”

What’s fucking hilarious about this is that Latinos find “latinx” offensive and, they are like “this is Fidel Castro’s slogan!”

And just on statistics alone, split along social democrats, moreno, and a few outlier parties that want to go ever further to the left — this will only get about 5-10% of them excited, and piss off about the other 90-95%. I would have said that’s just fact of life in latin america — but I guess thats just as true of “us” today.


They love their “social democrats” here, but there’s a good reason they hate YOU.

That is IT. That is my sole fucking commentary on the upcoming midterms, and/or what I assume is the forthcoming “2022 Midterm Variant” of the “coronavirus.”

You’ll still have what you call a “dollar” , in the same sense that Mexico still had the “peso,” the “Nuevo Peso (NP)”, and then ultimately now calls the NP the “peso” today. I figured .. it was an eventuality, I just wasn’t really expecting it NOW?

If it goes “well,” you’ll get an exchange of about 100:1, if it’s real bad, call it 1000:1

It’s uh , it’s uh , it’s looking real bad and contrary to what Psaki says, it’s been looking real bad since at least 2019 and I called it out on November 30, 2019 . And again in February of 2020.

Good riddance to that hellbound chucky doll looking , unrepentant, lying bitch.

I’ve been hedging my bets with dual residency, dividing stuff up between two economies, and saying “I’m so thankful for everything Employer X did for me,” but knowing full damn well these pensions are all about to be “MC Hammer broke” and that I’m going to be doing real good if I can carry on at near-to-below poverty level, I’ve done it before, it won’t break me to do it again.

I think , down the road, I could see myself going back to my old job and specializing in spook shit and creepy “analytics” stuff, instead of blinky flashy shit in stadiums but thats super-conditional on 1) I want to be sober for a year or two before I come back with resume and my hat in hand — and 2) they scrapped all of it because it required millions in hardware and software support and it will be way more invasive, lucrative, and fucked up … and scale way beyond your premises with 5G. It’s all a little unnerving, screwed up, and creepy and that was just the prototypes! Never mind RNS and wifi neural mapping, that shit is so .. 2016 ..

But overall, I found the surveilance and analytics line of business to be far less offensive than BAE Systems who makes shit to kill brown people more efficiently.

And it has great potential like giving firefighters “heat maps” of people who are not moving to safety, or moving at all, and could be unconscious or injured. First responders can zero right the fuck in on those beacons instead of losing valuable time sweeping floor to floor and door to door where they could have located someone with a severed artery or stuck in a wheelchair and saved a life.

I could go on and on, but the first thing I am going to do is start slapping the god damn engineers and tell them to stop using frequencies adjacent to ones that excite water molecules and/or cook food for FUCKS SAKE. Russia banned them.

But the FCC is fucking stupid and should just .. straight up .. be de-funded.

For the time being, I live in a “Radio Quiet Area,” until you figure it the fuck out and I’m not going anywhere *near* a densely populated area using mmwave +/- 60ghz.

Big difference between feeling like your job murders people, or like it can save lives. It wasn’t ready, and I had some quirks of my own and I wasn’t ready either.

The future is “problematic” but its not all terrifying and its not all bad news.

Unless its abused, hacked,and misued like the old tech , which isnt secure. A lot of people who think “muh guvmint” is fucking with them don’t realize its 3rd parties who have hacked into shit that — that can do everything from taking over the controls of planes — to stuff you won’t believe me about today but you will in a few years, anyway it was supposed to be as secure as the titanic was unsinkable.

Hint: It isn’t. And everyone’s fucking in it, and that’s just the TIP of the blackmail.

It’s probably just as well that I have (honestly) forgotten the name of whatever the fuck it’s called or this page would probably be 404’ed in a matter of hours.

And all of that, has components that depend on the sentiment mining features that political campaigns and others had been using , so like, elon and jack need to unfuck their company and allow genuine , organic , participation without being such jackboot happy dweebs who get rid of people who speak poorly of The Party and Dear Leader , for the data to even be of any fucking use whatsoever.

I’m a jerk and like maybe, MAYBE, one or two former employers would take me back if I swear to never mention or name or list them on linkedin or a public bio. Just on account of me being like one 10-12 people who were fucking crazy enough to comprehend how all of the moving parts and pieces of it even work together.

I need a “Plan B” though because those companies could go tits up over all this!

That’s one hell of a tangent.

Back to the subject of diversification, he says “hook me up!”

Well, about that, you need a CURP , which you might be able to get on your own because your granddaddy’s a Mexican and shit. I might know a guy who can read spanish and knows the process at the embassy and INM.

Ya fuckin brown skinned, english speaking, gringo motherfucker.

(I’m kidding we’re both part Indian. I’m not Hispanic, I just larp as one on 4chan.)

It’s not Tennessee anymore.

Now it’s North Carolina.

I’m going, you know we got an ocean.. and mountains… and there’s a crazy fucking gringo down here who wants to lay down on the gravel and hold your dirty cracked hands and name every one of the stars with you, right?

I was about to say “I know another way you can get a CURP, but it’ll be for serious, you ain’t going nowhere and neither am I, motherfucker.”

I’d rather do for it for love, but , ya know, Jorge Lopez would be so fucking triggered she would jump off the fucking Sears Tower, and that would be okay too.

What’s the downside?

But his friend showed up and he said “I gotta go.”

Aiight Alice, see ya next lifetime, maybe some day your prince will come along too.

One of these days, Alice.


Straight to my voicemail!


When the dog bites,

When the bee stings,

When I’m feeling sad ..

I simply look at Netflix closing stock price

And then I don’t feel quite so bad.

“Kick it, quit it, can’t go home again.”

Been talking to a realtor about the possibility of finding one of these dipladiated dumps in Wisconsin or Minnesota they’re trying to unload for $10,000 – $20,000.

“What areas are you interested in?”

So I fired up up the only computer I have left that’s old and shitty enough to run Photoshop on a perpetual license, and I modified a nuclear fallout map.

“Okay, so check this out. My family lives in the red area, right? The orange radius, is probably a little risky too. I guess 30 miles, is the bare absolute minimum I need to stay away from my parents. But 300 miles would be even better.”

He hasn’t responded to me yet.

This is a rotten thing to say before “mothers day” , but Jehovahs are kind of weird and if you celebrate mothers day or a birthday or whatever its tantamount to kneeling down before satan himself, so it’s not that I am insensitive about these fake and gay hallmark holidays, it’s more like … most years …I am unaware it’s a “holiday” or that a “holiday” is coming up. This year I only know about it because it’s a friend’s first year without her mom and that reminds me to gingerly text mom and wish her a “happy sunday” which is our mutually agreed upon compromise for “happy mothers day” without saying the words and she would almost be hurt if I forgot. I really did forget this year and I had no idea it was coming. It’s just how I was raised and it’s a weird thing to try to just up and suddenly start observing when you’re 21 or 22 or whatever. But hey, it saves me a fortune at “Christmas.”

It’s fine.

They stopped reading me years ago because they can’t even tell if I’m serious.


You ever see parents “letting” their kids argue and bitch and whine and cry, or do some fucked up shit , and find yourself thinking “oh if that were my kid, I’d-“

Yeah, so about that. If you haven’t gone balls to the walls “Casey Anthony” or Full Metal Susan Smith and pushed the car into the river with those screaming brats inside of it (yet) today, then as far as mods go- I think you’re doing a great job.

We need to make a new side room called the #thunderdome

We’ll just put you both in there and let you cage fight to the death.

Two go in,

Only one comes out.


You can troll your ass off, blah blah blah , you don’t even know what trolling IS.

Real trolling, is when you’re so committed to it, you’re pissing into a gatorade bottle under your desk and not even taking a break from it for 5 straight days.

But don’t be running up under anyones skirt , sniffling , “I was talking shit to a bunch of junkies, one of them had a trucker mouth and said mean things back!”

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