Those damn words can get tangled up.  I have been anticipating dementia.  People may think I am losing it, but, blowing it is more germain, where, by placing an observer on the ceiling overhead, we can certainly see how thinking is the government, and, plausibly it is the military’s fault for all those subsequent scenes of destruction.  I just had to hear from people teasing me and not get mad.  You have to take it down a notch when you are cross with your kid.  I saw Nicholas’ lip start to quiver, so I let him be.  I have a button now, if I can array imaginary people around me; the coincidences are further elaborated as in the humor of sprites.

I am here in Starbucks.  It was playing Christmas music when I started coming.  I listened today—it has a jazz trumpet with a mute—, and I chose, “Send in the Clowns”, from a few errant notes when I first came in.  I knew I was coming.  A few notes gives you the song, a song gives you the beginning, but, life is quickly snatches from a certain scheduled impetii.  You have to alert to the context, which is in mind.  The beginnings don’t work.  It’s pretty much affine scaling to absolute time and elapsed time, making up a true timing paradigm.

So, what are the correct numbers?

Hmm, I will go with the word count, 377, being found again.  It’s on my license plate.

Let’s see, five minutes ago is a condition, this existed such that it is past a second five-minute slant now; I’m late.  I’ll start, then.

Half the battery.  I’m not going to do a larger number of things, ie no pictures, no blog management, no chemistry.

Well, wait.  This 4-fluromethamphetamine says there is chemistry.  Unfortunately, it is the classified kind of information.  Get RC on Google and you will be up with me.

I had a delusion-free morning (until I fed the peanuts to the pink elephant), which reminds me, since I did not write that word, “elephant”, so much as a sprite rode it down to the keyboard, these folks in Starbucks are of a style who work and think in terms of the fifteen minutes they are owed to sit down.  They aren’t destroying themselves like in the song, they’re merely smoking a cigarette watching the fifteen minutes’ extinction.  “one hour ten minutes remaining”, so, that’s a plus.  It’s just no longer very true.

There was the radio in the car.  It said, “Dynamite with a laser beam”.  I had just remarked to myself, “this is my Christmas.”  I had not thought of it as Christmas presents, but, this blog is a goof in exactly that direction, toward the little experiments.

I attempted to start thinking indiscriminately, propping up reality given that I had a load off my  mind where my ex-wife may not be bumming rides, to do with the conclusion of this marathon divorce.  My poker hand shows a possible fatherhood with my son.  This wife was more seasoned, and, despite initial misgivings, I give her credit.  I began, “I have bought three rings.” It was not words from a song, this time it was words floating in the air.  It was really words from the crew at Starbucks.  Watch, I’ll go see what words they use.  I have to buy coffee to sit here, after all.  Of course, if behind them stands a director, a demon one, he could have a proxy as, “my guys”, working here.  I’m talking telepathy.  I’ll soon go jerk their chain on the slave collar.  Now the music is saying, “I think I can cope with whatever in your head (Very well, Superwoman.  Oh, that’s Steveland Wonder.  “And I think I can deal with everything going through ya _______.”

The words asked me what I wanted, saying, “What can I get for you?”, …thinking how it was when I replaced the aquamarine in Elizabeth’s apartment.  You always check to see who is stealing out of the corner of your eye; has something to do with treachery.

I bought three rings (“tomorrow to reflect”), an emerald, a ruby, the blue one, too.  What can I get for you (just a suggestion (more like a command), make the diamonds synthetic)?

They’re playing the strains of, “Take it to the Limit”, but, it is saying, “if you don’t know me by now.”  Yeah, I know the song you plagiarized.  What happened, did the Italians join up with the niggers’ mafia and you can say you know what’s right and wrong, the difference?  I don’t think you do.

My title comes from 1992.  I love, by the way, that Yoko Ono is on Twitter.  Here, I was writing to Paul McCartney.  My hand felt dissociated from the body.  “hand, move to the address block.  I can say I told you so.  Hmm.  I told it to do so.  Come on.”  The hand returned as the address coalesced:  Capitiol Records?  No, it’s just the pencil coming off the “t” high, and going to the “o”.  Looks like an “i” got in.  Changed the whole meaning.  Do we wish to break records?  Well, in the case of the human beings of flesh and blood, it appears that 140 million are dead in the last century’s warfare.  Our zero point is what, 120 million?  Tie that, but, you are cheated.  with five times more souls, we need five times more death to keep it in harmony.

I have a cleric’s collar in the car with some songs referenced on it.  I’m just going to leave instead.  I’m not a retriever.  I acheived a new car today; the apogee of wealth transfer from my elderly parents.  Thanks, Dad.  That Elizabeth Taylor was really something.

1105 to the 11:02, baby Abe.

N.N,-Dibenzyliden-iitJrytendi.-in-*ii ElUyfa$”esiumbromid in Ather und anschliessend.

mit einer

“rn*orrilkal.

wss. fto”tg

“91

Niqumphosphat und wenig Ammonium’

cUoria @an Alphen, Robert’ R’ 54 [1935] 361′ 364)’

KPgo: 139o’ . A. o :-r r:^ i* r^raan’lan Artilzel erha.ltene Ver-

Beim Erhitzen unter 2b Torr auf 210o ist die im folgenden Artikel erhaltene veI

bindung

See that?  That’s the original German, where all the science is.  Now let’s place that within “trasnslate”.  Minute…

NN, dibenzylidene iitJrytendi.-in * ii ElUyfa $ “esiumbromid in ether and then.
with a
“rn * orrilkal.
wss. fto “tg
“91
Niqumphosphat and little ammonium ‘
@ cUoria at Alphen, Robert ‘R’ 54 [1935] 361 ’364)’
KPgo: 139o ‘. A. o:-rr: i ^ * r ^ raan’lan Artilzel erha.ltene Ver-
On heating at 210o Torr 2b is obtained in the following article vei
binding

We got a little bit of help with the words, not much.  Beilstein is such a reference as to be the last word, whatever the chemical, from a literature search beginning with the literature from the beginning.  You’ll call on it for any chemical in stock.  Tells how to make it.

“Synthese” is “synthesis”, or, I guess, “zuchtung” is, so, ferret out that word.  Oh, the translation problem has been ferruled for just this source before.  This handbook has handbooks.

Here’s one: http://www-sul.stanford.edu/depts/swain/beilstein/bedict1.html

Two-way glossary of organic chemistry terminology.

I’m on my way to UCSD for blolood work for an upcoming PET scan, but, I don’t want to go to that library full of Japs.  I gave it one last shot.  I haven’t been hitting.  Today, gold:

http://vanilla47.com/PDFs/ClandestineChemistry/Amphetamine/Beilstein-Erganzungswerk-III-(1930-)-Band-12-p2664-77.PDF

I was stuck, see?  I would have posted sooner.  Good thing I tried one last time.

What about working with this information?  You comb through it, every last drop.  It’s kind of like, when you fail, begin to read the instructions.  The only other thing is the Poseidon adventure of what to do when these links all break.  It works for today.  It works fine for people living on borrowed time.  You got Tourrette’s.

http://vanilla47.com/Chemistry1.html

I know.  Whoops One and Two has justified the proof (that’s the page).  This one above is the erowid where

it isn’t Erowid.  It reminds me of Erowid, it’s so extensive.  It’s not good weather for bookworms.  I’m not going to stand in front of that obelisk-shaped bookshelf without a wingman.  The indices are wicked to go back and forth.  But, the single number I’d carry in there is

4-12-00-02589.

I had to get it from a previous post of mine.  That’s what I mean.  If I go in there, I don’t wander around.  I state, “methamphetamine” to the reference librarian, and, I don’t threaten her.  But, hey, I’m doing this.  I had to know if my country was going soft in the head, and still think I was cooking.

That deal breaks down according to some instructions, take these:

http://www.asu.edu/lib/noble/chem/beilstein.htm

Thank you.  These people will be lying, and, this is the kind of stuff to throw back at ‘em.  The ref# says where to look, like, the 4 is volume four of a “hauptwerk”.  Maybe.  I don’t have ti

This is the second time through.

I am going to do it differently.

h

ell, what the…  Last time, I come out with nothing but a title.

jjj

esus.  All that scanning, all that uploading.  “What you want is a gallery.”  No, I can’t upload on edit no matter what, the images unsynch and duplicate.

Naof

uck you.  I don’t even have a cup.  Kick me as hard as you can in the balls.

Ph

uck.  I just wanna do all sorts of gay shit.  I am getting the rhythm going.

I know that I am basically going to get you to a picture of the cup.  This here is for when you test out -Cl removal, hydrogenolysis, in adjustable-voltage mode, you will have a ball-park for that, whether it’s easy or hard.  It should be easy.  It’s a benzylic halide.  I plot my learning curve such that a system requires apparatus.  I don’t worry what it looks like with or without calculus.  I got Halliday and Resnick at this point..Volume I: measurement, Motion along a straight line, etc.  and Volume 2, electric charge, electric fields.  How do you like that electric charge?  I like it fine.  That’s what the capacitor’s for.  Here, fuck.

I got a bad feelin’ about this.

I’m not just going to beat you on how to make M3HT.  I’m going to teach you how to fuck:  Don’t sit there getting horny if you’re HIV+.  Seek out the host and say, “I need to fuck.  Can I use your bedroom?”  No, I have a bad feeling.  Am I not going to be able to upload the missing pages if I forgot any?  Hmm.  Chalk this one up to good-old WordPress leaving you severed.  If I ask for a page I expect that page, not the awareness of someone’s DNA curling up in a

[inserting 4-5.  I didn't mean differently bad; I meant an improvement.  But, do I improve it?  idk, WP's little program tends to wash you out to sea if you are talking.  It sent it to the trash.  I had to carefully undo.  I'll have to see what happens.  You can't mess it up if may always die whilst adding a piece to it.  My next operation in time is to add the missing image, #4, the fifth one.  The right Amico is the next tasking on the scanner; I don't like publishing my address to make a point. ]  word count went from 314 to 411…what is ‘word’ blue for . Blue?  How many bytes to color something…

What is stopping me from introducing material to you is the scanner.  There is no clean Google match for something which does not appear.  When you search on it, it assumes you do see it.  It is just an icon.  I wish to scan, but, the instructions say to load paper.  Well, of course it does that so you deplete your ink and paper and buy more.  It handed me a copy.  It didn’t scan into the computer.  That’s a joke, of course.  Without an icon to begin with, the hardware doesn’t do anything.  The buttons are identified by icons themselves.  I don’t know the icon for scan.  Way above the buttons, the words scan, print, copy appear, but, none of them is across from a button.

I have a hard time living.  I’ve come to accept that.  I usually say, “You’re getting a Dell”, to folks.  I learned it from a commercial.  Similarly, I tell them other things without nutritional value.  It’s like a Pop-Tart.  You wouldn’t eat that stuff.  Nowadays people don’t know that.  You certainly would not feed it to your children.  Nowadays people do.  There’s no long-term child abuse.  It’s all reported; I don’t know how many times I have nearly been arrested for yelling at my kid.  I myself was smacked around pretty good.

I would post this electrochemistry.  I finally located it.  My room is a bit like, well, it is what happens when you are forbidden to attach anything to the walls.  The other three rooms I had in this house is where all those nails and shelves stayed, anyway.

This is the 29th @12:12.  I think I have to pick up my child from the bus stop at “4:25 (it’s ten minutes late and on time)”.

There are people dead.  One of your christians, Bryan Stamos, was a friend of mine.  I was just wondering why this reads like I read it and stayed just as I was.  Uh, I might have used the word, “mind”.  I thought about words which are really verbs, like “fuck”, the reality of why people are on earth, without the “love”, which is some vagrant noun.  It is the same with “the” mind.  It’s only a verb.  I know now, it was the verb to think.  I am not always thinking.  I am thinking as differently as I am able to when I do it.  I keep it so in order to broaden my definition of the disutility of others expressions.  When not thinking, I have the autonomic nervous system still there at the time.  You probably do not have a sense of direction when it comes to time.  So much telepathy is transmitted to me that I keep a test operation ongoing.  My friend died June 10, and, I just go back to my notebooks and look at the event.

I just got a call.  She’s picking him up at school.  She’s a christian, so, it’s nice she isn’t drunk all the time.   In the years since she quit she has added some reliability.  It’s 1:30 on Thursdays, so, @ 12:29…I’m glad she called.

The autonomic nervous system gives rise literally to “autonomy”, the others related begin with anonymity, today.  These words are shuffled together with the slightness of a difference in {O,N,O,M} vs {O,N,Y,M}.  The mathematical object “x” flows more from its autonomy than its naming.  It’s more independent than it is unknown; we know it’s one of a pool of possibilities.  In english the two A words diverge in meaning.  Our little words are ahead in the meanings.  In twenty or thirty spaces a few long words use up all the possibilities, but, small ones record which one is first with a lot of irrefutable priority.  We want them concentrated, see?  They are in order in order for us to remove objections when we give orders, and, to remove a spot to a new spot deterministically.

Do I like short words?  No, I like immortality, but, since we don’t have that, I must keep track of a lot of produced lines and their subsumption in encounters between the members of a group of people half of whom are dead.

Living people are always putting things in their own words, but those who said it best are dead.

846

Troy Davis is the actual guy.  I am going to leave his picture out.  I just uploaded all the people pictures on my desktop; I can get rid of them and see galaxy UGC 3409 better.  Troy’s not dead, and, will be later today, making this a certain time for observing my own attitude as I get high on weed, after I type this.  See, how does it feel inside with a knowing time of death?  There are not others sanctioned in we may employ in a time series experiment.  It is slightly less of a prospect that telepathy works while the path is from the living to the living, meaning, the possiblility cannot be excluded no matter how hard you try since death does not move backward into life.  Today does not even move backward into tomorrow.  You have no way of sampling some later time than this, or even remembering very well what just happened, if you smoke the reefer.  But, the physical construction I just described is what I prefer to call a dead giveaway that there’s no life after death, no matter and irregardless of what you say, and, if you say it you’re on pipe big time.

So, what have we got?  Troy Davis just has to be executed.

214

The true words admit no logico from identification of the thing.

For example, the lab studies cancer.  It doesn’t retail it.  The incongruity of a spotless facility developing something ugly is how you get to that which can’t progress logically.

This particular university or all universities and their esoteric boundaries is but a minor apostrophe on the ethics.  These happen to reciprocally translate reality, rather than to call it a transform.

How torturers feel about torture in prisons names “avid”.  Avid is usually the way cancer cells are described to uptake nutrition.  My “people name of David”, in the old school refer to Bohm.

I don’t have any justification for putting Bohm today.  I would form a skirmish line pairing your temporal self with your ghost using the many-worlds figurehead who keeps the souls in Hell in line, the one they call Dad, if he’s your father.  But, I channel a lot of physics.  He’s Everett.

The many-worlds interpretation leads to a deterministic view of nature in which there is no special role for the human mind. WIK

I put this physics here to deny the world after death, the underworld.  Your own cruel decisions and your mind are an express package across everything.  You’ll be brought to record death in the light of your statements about how it is to be distributed.  The word, “brought” is a currency in the philosophy of the entertainer Vince Vaughn.  Humans in reality do not deliver anything, especially today when women have rights.  They have the ability to “bring” a freshness or a deliberate and considered wisdom to our venues.  That’s what they’re celebrated for.

In short, people do not create anything since the earth had it all here, what they bring comes with themselves; once they’re dead, they’re no longer bringing.  If it’s anything, they’re leaving it.  But, Vaughn justifies the word, “brought”, and, since my daughter is named Sabrina, I am on board.  It means bringer; you can see that.

This was done while sitting on the bed, in my room, at seventy-four degrees, a half a mile from the ocean.

Expensive?  No.  That would be if things averaged out.  This is one-of-a-kind.  We have it until death takes us away.  Of course, we don’t keep it on us.  I can get it.  It’s just a quintillion tons.  If it were large, it would not have a name.  I am unaware of any intractable constraints.  The million tons directly underneath me has a prefix, “mega”, by means of which we imply that Asia is about to get nuked.  I could be living in the Middle Ages, I guess, but I’m not.

Spine-tingling adventures and ear-splitting noises are tame.  This is the death penalty, and, it goes with spine-snapping events, and, head-splitting tumors.  The penalty is part of punishment, and, the sewed-up tranch is of crime and punishment.  Dostoevsky already wrote it.

I don’t like “Fyodor”; I like to call somebody, “Franz”, so, I am used to Kafka.  If it’s capital punishment, then I think it should be The Trial.  However, Kafka was the incarnation of something more primordial.  He was writing when he died, that’s more transcendent; it’s The Castle.  It might be different, but this world is tacked to the German invasion, so, we’ll work it from that angle.  The thing is, I can’t trace the United States today into a kind of result of the actions of Adolf Hitler.  Fyodor went to prison, but, he went on to write and become famous after that.  We actually have no such possibility, so, I don’t understand it.  You can start be seeing what happens with this guy.

819

Taking the traffic in human death all of a piece, we may further abstract to all of human death itself, and, in this way include everyone.

Human death is a fact.  We have

1. Letting them die.

2. Not letting them die.

3. Killing them.

4. Not killing them.

These four cases surmount a solipsistic “Julliard School” of it.  We need to add, “dying”, a single other act.  Dying includes all other creatures, too, especially so given that we raise animals to kill, and, attempt to kill every other species of plant and animal, having wiped many out.

In a “Montessori School”, we train individuals to kill police and send our graduates into Texas.  Were we to consider abandoning that approach, we could quit, for sure; easier than we could know we quit drugs.  The drug war would have to be over, and, it hardly is.

We have to die, but, are compensated for this by making sure of our ability to kill.  If you don’t want the job, don’t cash your check.  You’ll still have the job, but it helps (only) us to know who’d rather act silly given the choice.  Acting silly is the fastest known way of ending up on a slab.  Men generally don’t have this problem because money buys the way out, and, after the money’s gone men still have sperm cells to contribute to the police widows and orphans.  I tend to attack lightning fast, cutting a guy’s balls off.  I tell ‘em to get to the hospital, assuming they want to live that way.  One minute I’m all quiet, then bang!  Zoom!  Out of nowhere, see?

Fear is a surrepititious emotion, but, the semantics of predication call for an in, and, an out with regard to it.  It must be of something, a form.  The S.W.A.T. team members always have a heads-up protocol.  They call the subject a rabbit:  “I’m just popping a rabbit.  I have the skill.  He is just going to run.”  Maybe they call him a bunny.  The outside is that murder need not be a part of anything.  Thus, in order from large to small in importance and not chronologically, murder-suicide should be renamed suicide-murder.  It’s already named a suicide attack, as much as the American is loved, which is a negative one, with older references to, “more than I love life itself” now under a strict cloud of suspicion.  Let’s face it:  It’s not worth living in this world with uniformed American killers crawling all over it.  We have fear of cancer.  The fear of being held to account is clearly a lesser evil.  Can we please not shift the blame to the state?

This murder is thus being carried out in my name.  By the way, when you look up the meaning of the word false in the dictionary, it has a picture of one of you giving testimony in court.  The ranking of false eyewitness testimony is equivalent to that of a witch hunt, and, by that I mean what transpires in Salem, Mass, circa 1640.  It shows approximately ninety convicted and executed for witchcraft.  In Texas, where polls show half the population would ask whether the accused were guilty of the witchcraft, they probably think it was justified.  They are christians, and still do it.

I reject the notion that my head will ever be in the right place as long as my country has the death penalty.  Its conduct in foreign invasion and limited war is especially gruesome over the past fifty years.

These points become academic given the looming Peak Oil/ Global Warming scenarios.  You can’t seriously expect all your grandchildren not to be dead at some point.  Let’s green that up: They’ll be made dead.  It raises the bar.  I know you don’t want that.

Let all the medical doctors explain their opposition to lethal injection on their NIH grant applications.  I love not claiming my opponents are stupid and ignorant. Medical doctors in the United States are evidently smart and evil.  Q.E.D.

If your physicians do not kill, it is because they order killings in their name.  It’s the same when they treat patients.  They do not treat anyone, either.  They just see you and order it.  It seems they are arbitrary about it, with no overriding philosophy about meeting and conquering death.  Their faces need to be split in half, whatever school that is.  As for the pigs, I’m a wear the uniform of their enemy and shoot at ‘em willy-nilly.

A mechanism for defeating death is found in a larger organism in which death is confined to some parts, and, the core beliefs of the thing persist in spite of death.  But, it is readily interpreted that, although we can’t ensure no follow-on rise of a similar beast, we may kill all the members of this one beautifully, and, with a measure of Apocalypse, prevent anything of a similar size forever.  There just isn’t enough raw material to build another the size of a continent.  Let ‘em be the size of Connecticut.  Let ‘em say they are the size of a continent, hell, a couple  continents.  We will come and kill them all again, just for saying that.  I’d love to kill Connecticut.  I wish I could kill everyone who can read these words.  I wish their lies fell on deaf ears.  I wish this beautiful, perfect language were destroyed, that has been put to use in every kind of lie, at least for the present.  It’s completed.  It’s time to shelve it, make inextant all the humanity, and, time to get these organisms to come up in the world again, as simple, trustworthy beasts.

Anyway, it’s two hours out, so, you will all need to look it up yourself.  When it’s true, siddown and repeat these words, “I do not want to fuck with Steve, because, look what happens to dude.”  I reveal this as the Mahatma Ghandi school.

1806

A quote of, you’ll know who

Treated for infection in right lung in a NYC hospital, April-May 2002.

Attributes much of his ability to end drug addiction to a life-altering vision experienced in hospital after a bad car crash. Under the influence of drugs while driving, Dreyfuss knew the crash was his fault. Though he was the only one injured, in his recovery state he was moved by the image of a beautiful little girl in a white dress. The girl served to remind him of the kind of innocent life he could have destroyed, and it compelled him to save his own life, he says, by confronting his drug demons.

-who it’s about.

Well, he is a liar.  he is nothing but hanging upside-down in his seat belt and yelling for help and claiming to be Richard Dreyfuss.  That’s all the richness we want to elucidate, not fifteen more lies beyond the DUI.  What a puke.  I mean, what if this was 1975, not 2000?  Are you still good?  By 1950, I am a history forwards.

That’s what he did, of course he did.  Is Dreyfuss a Jewish name, or, am I insane?  January 16, 1995, OJ time, to a Jerry Garcia.  Gayer Gayercia, ma ma ma ma Manila Nights dot com.  Mm-hmm, he is nada vanilla, no reference to ice cream.  Things are only what they play on TV.  A junky can’t die of shame.  Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop.

Dree is misery.  I can’t remember the rest.  Why’d shoop need him upside down?  Oh, because I was scammed in the biography.  That was a set trap they spring on the unsuspecting, and, I can’t pass on and embolden predicated lies.

Where am I with this?  I am on a side rail.  I am not writing to disgorge a backlog of I’ll get everything said.

Let me entertain you.

304

Yes to the wheel.  I saw the roast of Charlie Sheen, and, I saw the National Geographic thing, “Drugs, Inc.”  The one-pot with ammonia replacement is apparently in vogue, as is the driving down the road.  I like it, it’s intoxicating.

The time you are doing things is like pulling a shift, but is in fact abstract.

Shit is far when uninvolved, there’s no meta.  Lindy’s was real, Mindy’s was made up (Runyon), the mind is invoked, which comes with a warning:  Do not try to argue things into existence out here.

I hate the effrontery

400

of the media.

403

SPIC

TETHYS

comedy central roask of charlie sheen
 “The Strip”

M.C.
Wichita’s one and only burlesque theater presents
Miss Gypsy Rose Lee

Gypsy
Let me entertain you
Let me make you smile

Momma Rose
Sing out, Louise!

Gypsy
Let me do a few tricks
Some old and then some new tricks
I’m very versatile
And if you’re real good
I’ll make you feel good
I’d want your spirit to climb
So let me entertain you
We’ll have a real good time,
Yes sir!
We’ll have…
A real good time!

Theater Manager
Do something!

Momma Rose
Yeah!

Theater Manager
Take something off!

Gypsy
Momma!

Momma Rose
A … glove! But say something!

Gypsy
Hello! Hello…everybody!
My name is Gypsy Rose Lee… What’s yours!
Mr. Conductor, if you please!
So, let me entertain you…
And we’ll have a real good time, yes, sir!
We’ll have…
A real good time!

M.C.
And now, Minsky’s well famous Burlesque
Presents the queen of the strip-tease, the incomparable,
Miss Gypsy Rose Lee and our salutes to the Garden of Eden!

Gypsy
Pick up your apples girls and back to the trees!
Bon soir, monsieur et monsieur!
Je m’appelle Gypsy Rose Lee
And that concludes my entire performance in French,
I’ve been too busy learning Greek
Where were you last night?
Some man accused me of being an ecdysiast
Do you know what that means? Do you?
Do you? Oh, you do!
Aha! He’s embarrassed!
Don’t be embarrassed…I like men without hair!
An ecdysiast is one who or that which
Shed its skin. In vulgar parlance: a stripper
But I’m not a stripper!
At these prices I’m an ecdysiast!
And if you’re real good
I’ll make you feel good
I want you spirit to climb
Let me entertain you
And well have a real good time, yes, sir!
We’ll have…
A real good time!
733

*************

797gg

surface in the blogosphere working against free expression.  I don’t come here to click ads.

Yeah, there’s something surface in the blogosphere.  It’s getting harder to write, and, harder to comment.

Yeah, there’s something surface in the blogosphere.  It’s getting harder to write, and, harder to comment.

Yeah, there’s something surface in the blogosphere.  It’s getting harder to write, and, harder to comment.

Yeah, there’s something surface in the blogosphere.  It’s getting harder to write, and, harder to comment.

***********

Steve, you didn’t nail the problem, the problem nails you!

Ahem.  You’ll get a kiss off this anyway.  You’re afraid of cancer.  What about that fear?  You want to threaten me physically?  Hush up.  I’ll leave you suspended over the audience on a hook.  When you cry out, they will comment how mundane it all is.  They’ll jeer you and call the blood coming out, “icky.”

880

What kind of truth is that?

It’s correspondent in a future-changeable coherent personal type of reality, where the future in this case is enough evidence to degrade a charge of insanity. I say that’s a D. I hope it looks like a DC “dee” to you, or will, and then have had toe the line…

Got it.

Initialize downforce, open 270 to input, see 360, hang up the suit.  Enter the balance.  270 reads.

What?

Happy cherry day.  I mean 720.

You just exchanged my head with a cat’s.  Parse and recover.

Horizontalizing, pixels to nine, patchwork reality.

My mic cord looks like a snake.

It’s temporary.  Do you want us to send in the nanorobots?

Right.  Cone of silence.

125

You can’t bother anyone in an empty room.  But, I don’t like some of my moves.  I shoved my mattress toward the wall with my knee.  If you do things to people, like karate chops, people don’t like seeing you practice.  It’s like driving if you show off.  “Are you Clay Rigozzoni, leadfoot?”  So, I was up top, and, my knee was down from here, and, I focused my anger on it.  It hurt, though.  There’s a nightstand jutting out.  It looks too low, but no, it fits the knee.  I banged it there.  It is not how fast the corner of the wood is moving; it is not moving at all relative to the doorway.  But, it’s the position.

The same thing is true with time travel.  There is no travel.  There never can be any travel.  Time doesn’t have travel in it, space does.  So, going over the same stretch of time in a time machine many times will not wear out the fabric of space time.  At least, I think it won’t.  But, how does an idea, “travel” from one mind to another?

Well, a time machine has to come with a computer.  You’d arrive in the time location you want to affect, apply the change, observe the new sequence of events, and hit paradox #1: There’s no memory left of the original sequence of events.

In fact, a guy sits there burned today, and, I am responsible because people work for me on my time machine and one of them flared up.  He was saying, and I’m paraphrasing: IF PEOPLE LISTEN TO YOU THEY ARE GOING TO CATCH ON FIRE.  So, the present had a pinhole leak and all that got fed into the tape drive was THAT THEY ARE GOING TO CATCH ON FIRE.  I know, it’s a little sketchy.  I need a name for the input device inside the time machine, the place that hums when the numbers crunch.  I think I need a shredder for the past.  That’ll make a whine like a wood chipper.

The dude is so burned that it is not even on the internet yet.  I mean, he burned so quickly that it hasn’t happened yet.  I got a hint from the news.  Two of those gases are helium and methane.  One was “liquid”.  Was it liquid oxygen?

I don’t think I want my time machine held together with rubber bands and cellophane tape.  I just don’t.

No, that reminds me of how my wife talks.  She says, “that” in front of everything.  She does not say, “You come in here with your two-inch penis and rich chocolate cake.  It’s going on my hips!”

No, she’ll say, “That you come in here.”

I go, “And?  Speak, woman.  I have a subjective clause.  And, what am I supposed to do with it?”

“That we don’t get Child’s Protective Services involved.”

“You sound like Thomas Jefferson.  Domestic tranquility and death, to be perfectly definitive.”

“No, that these jeans make my butt look fat.”

“I know everything.”

“You say ‘no’?”

“My lips say no but my eyes say yes.”

My elephant mind never forgets.

Shifting gears now manually, because, a time machine will have a remote.  It’s a convertible, so, you can set it and it’ll “fly” off (I mean, it’ll disappear).  Or it’s a convertible.  A remote would mean it could be a hardtop.

I don’t get a shifting automatic.  I take the slamming of the clutch plates when the momentum’s engaged.

What’s a slingshot time machine?  Well, a slingshot drag racer begins to look like a dragonfly, but, two dragonflies dock together, investigate third dragonflies, and, cover a large swath of ground by flying a gridded search pattern.

I dropped into a site warp.  I was going to say 500, I think they say 300, but, they say the beatles evolved 300 million years ago.  That’s unkind.  I remember Rubber Soul like yesterday.  They also called it “invisigate”.  Is that something like Watergate?  The argument is an investigation of the invisible.  But, it’s absurd.  Do you know who I am?

Cockroaches, The Beatles, and silverfish did not co-evolve.  That’s something Rod Stewart did.

814

http://earthsci.org/fossils/youngp/periods/periods.html

As far as using Alum to contract muscles goes, there are no reported cases of this ever working, and there are no cases nowadays where it is used as such. I think we can therefore safely assume, without wishing to conduct an experiment, that Alum simply does not contract the vagina in any way, however you apply/take it.
http://www.blurtit.com/q751703.html

“Fearless Fosdick, His Life and Deaths” (1956), features Fearless Fosdick, Li’l Abner’s “Ideel” and Al Capp’s satire of Dick Tracy and contemporary modernity in general.  In this collection, Fosdick shoots his way through four outrageous stories (and a number of innocent bystanders): “The Case of the Atom Bum, or Kiss the Purple off My Lips;” “Sidney the Crooked Parrot, or Kiss the Birdseed off My Feathers;” “The Poisoned Bean Case, or Kiss the Ketchup off My Hands;” and “The Case of the Chippendale Chair, or Kiss the Blood off My Springs.”  Published by Simon and Schuster.  First printing.  86 pages, B&W, 8-in. x 10.75-in., newsprint interior with cardstock cover, $1.00 cover price. Cover price $1.00.

http://www.mycomicshop.com/search?TID=566641

http://dangerouslyfun.com/burning-bubbles

987

http://www.mercurynews.com/peninsula/ci_18816617

abe lincoln could care less about losing meth money to mexicans Says:
Wed, 31 Aug 2011 11:51:38 +0000 at 11:51 am | Reply   edit

I can’t help when idiots expose themselves.

To ask how hot plates go bad and call oneself a scientist.  You write about “click chemistry”, so the hot plate in question would not be a lab grade hot plate but obviously the one made for home cooking (of food)….they run on electricity….they go bad with age…..real scientists, people called engineers designed them you know.

Your other poster proved my point on the other error. At least you got it right that the dope is not in the water…BUT notice the suzy is at the top and not the bottom…go figure…that is ALWAYS how ether floats with water….chemist?   if you can’t read the short acetate post and catch that, you are a reason we need english as an official language and you need to get more “hands on” again.  Even someone who’s never cooked before knows ether floats…it’s called READING.

At least you weaseled out of the high production guy’s questions. God help him if you blow him up with your click chemistry and open containers.

• sbillinghurst Says:
  Wed, 31 Aug 2011 17:17:06 +0000 at 5:17 pm | Reply   editStop it.  I know the answer.  Hint: why does a hot plate cost ten dollars, but a laboratory hot plate costs $100?Okay, brother.  Take it easy.  I will get more hands-on again.
• 1222
• http://sbillinghurst.wordpress.com/2009/08/13/pseudoephedrine-acetate/

• Scientist killed in explosion at Menlo Park R&D firm

1996

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1997

Wait.  That’s literal torture.  They ought to take him to the Hague and throw the book at him on war criminal atrocity charges.

The Sun-Times is the home of Dear Abby, but, mainly in our time the home paper of Mike Royko, who dies in 1997 while I am in a cage.  So, that and a handful of other papers, like, the Sacramento Bee, can and do hold their head up as he wades through the village.