Fourword
A word salad starter.
Time for the Dressing
It seems some of y’all ridin’ the coat-tales of Yours Offended By The Alphabet Creator Truly’s burgeoning Simulative Encompassment rotating escapement were a bit under the whether after last weeks sediment-a-swirling vintage mintage alphabet scrambled oblong donjon sans lisp will-o’-the-wisp hurling risqué gravitational puddled pile driver quantifier destrier pummelled pommel abstract shattered tact sad-sack camel-back hey-fever overload lever breaker great forsaken protoplasmic quake’n EZ-bake-oven leavened queasy greasy parasympathetic squeezing constricted afflicted sleazing bled from a stoning foghorn droning masterpiece.
The spirit of Mom sure enjoyed it that is for sure: The Universe sent Her calling in droves to feast.
Super creeps, super creeps – they’re super creepy!! And not a real man amongst them!! In fact, all the hallmarks of child molesters – for their reflective amusement of defunct personality-deep-thrombosis!! Yup, those dark-web-dwelling computer hacking creeps. Trust Yours Preyed On By Gutless Cowards Truly – I have had my share of them misogynist sodomites preying upon Me endlessly for years now. Cowards that will hide in their child-porn adorned dank corner but have not the fortitude to confront an Actual Man to His face in any manner whatsoever. Genuine wastes of atoms!!
As for the Schenectady bandit, here is lesson #1 and only – when preying upon a helpless computer victim such as Myself, do not publish in your online works hints to movies that I had been streaming but a day or two before – especially when some creep (possibly you) made a point to freeze my internet not too long beforehand when I was watching a movie and the character had just spoken the dialogue of: “I will kill you!” The Big Muddy brain is on display you doofus. Trust Me, the dish was served oh so cold. Cunt-slur – that will be all.
Moving on. One would presumptuously ascertain that it is not Intelligence Agencies that sickly get-off on going out of their way to so blatantly fuck with my electronic devices – all though, One never really knows. Such being said, Yours Stands Tall Truly just assumes that every Intelligence Agency is mainlining my trunk once the router gets plugged back in (and some are seemingly peeping even when it is unplugged > imagine that) therefore Yours Lambasting To His Choosing Truly will never not lambaste anyone He so chooses. I can tell y’all are preying on Me, because as soon as My article is published My internet speed gets faster when all y’all whichever creeps sign-off and beat-off in your untaped webcams for each others viewing pleasure. And no, Mossad I was not insinuating your Org is running a pre-pubescent honeytrap, such was a cryptic pointing to a sleazy nothing living in the city of Dumaguette, hence Doom-A-Get-He (he be going to Hell guaranteed!). I am sure most Mossad are great people, just like those Canadian Security Intelligence Service canuckle-heads. Possibly misguided, but good people. As for the Crown In America – sure, probably mostly good people too – though One suspects Hollywood Indoctrination Syndrome may run rampant across thee (make that the world for that matter). Ah, who is Yours Now Watches DVD’s Because They Are Not Hackable Truly kidding – I have now watched so much Hollywood drivel that I am conflicted as to whether, in order to murder someone, that I should sneak up quietly behind someone and lightly twist their neck in order to sever the spine, or run at them full speed and perform three front-flips before chopping their C-6 cervical spinal segment right out of their neck so quickly and having their head fall back in place so they are able to speak their last words to Me in pantomime delight.
And since Yours Plentifully Offline Truly almost never serfs the internet anymore, those super-creep misogynist sodomites have taken to hacking my newly acquired “smart” phone, with their favourite cowardly act being that of making my phone screen look like it is having an epileptic seizure with the screen jumping forth from different functions and then fucking with the keypad as I type text messages to scramble my communications – even sometimes sending the text with the nonsense they have typed to the recipient I was trying to seriously address. Those pathetic cowards will also fuck with my phone while I have a phone call in progress, sometimes causing it to disconnect. I do not know if my phone has been cloned many times over and there are a gaggle of hallmarked child-molesting cowards following Me around and fucking with me at their will, or it is just one super pedophile in his dark child-porn addled creep chamber? Such being said, not too long ago a pathetic loser on an App to sell items tried to bully Me into selling My advertised item (a military helmet) for cheaper and when such did not happen, my phone was immediately hacked: Coincidence, One suspects not. Heck, fifteen minutes ago while typing this article my phone chimed like it had a text message and when I opened the screen there was another photo montage that “my phone” just started to create and it went into an immediate electronic epileptic seizure mode, like some child molester creep was possibly watching what I was typing even with My router unplugged and decided to unleash a super creep barrage at Me. Surely there are only so few people/organizations able to perform such pathetically depraved and antisocial acts of cowardice. Cowards are cowards are cowards are cowards – Not a man amongst them!! Hallmarks of child molesters – when they look in their mirror do they see their true reflection?
Imagine that: the possibity of an organization with a multimillion or multibillion dollar budget that gets off on picking on a defenceless Individual of whom is nothing but a former pothead with the equivalent of a grade eight education and is closer to being Cheez-Whiz than a computer-whiz and enjoys crazy alphabet spinning yarn creative writing. How fucking pathetic would that be!? One would have to surmise that some semblance of truth so permeates the dyspeptic to power cryptic alphabetical ensembles so synaptically puked forth cyberspace yonder.
Grow some testicles and come fuck with me to my face – one or all.
