Tea Shades

I am doing what I want to do the way I want to do it.  I like to write in a particular way, and I am wearing a jacket which I like.  By the way, nobody else likes it.

I figured out two things.  First, the finding of my blog by searching on Google is not really any way to message me.  You don’t just write what you want to tell me and send it; that’s what comments are for.  You search for something you are interested in using Google, so, you could be anyone and not just a member of my particular crowd of folks with a like interest.  Then, by a fortuitous alignment of the words entered in the search, my blog is among the results.  I have checked; sometimes it is a few pages down.  The corollary and important part is that you are only anonymous before you click on it.  The word, “click” is a trap.  That is, the word, “open” is a trap.  Don’t you know not to open attachments from unsolicited e-mails?  Well, what do you think “to open” amounts to?  Is it not simply to click?  Yes, it is.  When your words turn up my blog, HTMM, you may need to pass that by, especially if you happened to be searching on your own name.  Think about it.

I also figured out just now that a category is different from a tag.  These are computerized designations, and the function is that of a title.  It is impossible for me to find anything on my blog from a list of the titles.  Is it insane?  Well, yeah.  But, look.  I heard a fireman say that he joined the force for the ‘idealism’, and the ‘bravado’.  I have the video cued; there’s a lot more.  It comes from searching, “Milwaukee drug overdoes”.  I thought maybe Uncle Fester had begun to repeat the Extra-Strength Tylenol cyanide scare of 1981 by dealing poison-laced meth.  They’re all in the State of (Milwaukee), Wisconsin.  Green Bay, Wisconsin, see?  It was up in the Midwest someplace, Chicago, same thing.

I only have a few minutes due to some other thing.  What that is is that the internet is a leetle bit dicey to use as a secret diary.  I have devastating news and opinion about nearly everyone I have ever met, am close to, or have heard of, and I am tired of fan clubs for the rich and famous and politically connected and their institutions.  It is so bad that certain words make me sick; for people to dress in suits or carry Bibles or smell perfumed.


This is not a themed post.  I am doing it by hit-and-run.  Perhaps the mere social proscription of some activity seems arbitrary, or, perhaps drugs, for instance, are illegal for a good reason.

Cocaine is obviously bad, but, the pharmaceutical and chemical industries are based on cocaine marketing.   I don’t mean based now, but, they started that way, and people have seen no reason to change them.

Our legal system is based in a similar way on the Salem Witch Trials of the 1600s.  It’s a fact.  In particular, the methods for securing convictions were established at that time or before.  Testimony is unreliable, and so, testimony is in use with the proviso not that it is insane, but that it has a nature much like any sort of precipitation, such as rain or snow.  Everybody talks about the weather, but, no one does anything about it, amirite?

Insanity is a difficulty, being that the methods of the insane include lying, cheating, and stealing.  Murder is also one of their fortés.  Man.  See that “e”?  All I wanted was Arial.  Just something simple, not tattoo-reminiscent —

My wife got her return call—automated—and I screamed it was ringing, and she screamed to pick it up.  She sounded shrill.  I pushed the button and listened—it’s a cordless—so I heard.  She caught me in front of the closet with the litter box inside, and the Siamese’s fecal odor streamed out the door and caught me.  Wow.  Whenever you change it is when they use it.  How do they do that?  Well, they go and stand in it and forcefully scatter the litter against the sides.  They’re thinking, “Oh, look at this nice stuff like gold, no lumps.”  They get turned on and have to poop.  Man has to be ready for the enemy to invade the camp and repel invaders.  Isn’t that when you’d want to go, when you get scared?

I thought Ariel Square Four.  Of course it wasn’t there since it’s a motorcycle.  I wrote the word yesterday, then went out and saw it all over the freeways, like,



it’s CalTrans.  So, what about the legalization of drugs in the face of people who do not like them?  Well, I use the word, idiotation, for “instrumentation”.  That’s when the person is the same as a machine.  I mean, if you play in a band, your instruments are not your “instrumentation”.  Instrumentation is in a chem lab; it’s the state of the art for acquiring automated data.  Persons can be thought of as things, easily.  They are in a class, such as middle-class.  Idiots are in a class by themselves, but, these times are unprecedented, unholy, and strange, with reversals of traditional roles.  Everything is being tried, from making children parents, to faggotry in civic pride.  Most of all, with a venal, greed oriented value system, the wealth is gravitating towards the most ruthless cheaters.  Criminals are in charge of the laws, and, that is how capitalism worked in principle, too.  The idea that private property was sacred ignored the murder and slavery and exploitation that kept it all in place.  Free Speech is the only hope, and is under attack always.

So, I thought, “Well, my ideas could pan out.  Maybe I should contact the Tea Party, because besides activism, I am sure that they are arranging priorities in business for success.”  Then I realized what a self-styled entrepreneur is, or a self-styled “guru”, think-tank prosciutto-fueled “Soprano, Tony”—and, I mean, they’re self-styled.  They’re automatons.  They’re sinks.  Money goes in, nothing comes out.

Well, here, as I utilize the correct meaning of a tag or a category, I wish to explore the overarching theme of what happens, and I closed back on the “household products”.  I am an expert.  There’s no one like me, two convictions, chemistry degree, real name.  But, it’s not good for you.  It doesn’t look good for you.  When honest hard-working people get fed up with criminality, the criminals generally get executed.  And, how to capture them and establish their guilt and punish them is worked out in advance as a task.

What is the public’s pleasure?  Did it want to own up to its hypocrisy or just be bought and sold like the government?


Dang!  This is the date of my death. so, that has to be addressed.  I did a psi experiment which definitely called for a reckoning from here.  But, on my clipboard right now is a South Park episode of a meth lab.  No, it was not; I had that funny French “e” on there.  I re-grabbed what I knew to be there.  But wasn’t.  But, should of been, or, should “have” been.  Okay, thx.

Now, this other post.


I r—wrote, …what—this (above), …but,


with a given word count or a given day

“or” is my favorite, 1239, my 1969 SAT score.  I was on reds, I believe, the day after a Frank Zappa concert, Anaheim Convention Center, but that date was Sept. 8.

How many per cent of a given date is another date?  That’s possible since you have the first date, the date of the prediction.

How do I know if I’m Psychic?

someone asks, and this causes me to think my search engine terms are messages to me.  At any rate, of course, to know this, like any job, you have to declare that you can do it.  That’s on top of your ‘to do’ list, and no one has yet knocked a psychic off the list of psychics.  You burn in Hell, of course, which is the one minor flaw.

No one has ever knocked anyone off a list they’ve been put on, but lists are only paper.  The cage doors opening is your focus.

Don’t get locked up; if you do get locked up, get out.

But how to know?  Okay, on this blog, I can’t post time: initial, and time: final.  If I could, the duration would be quantified.  All we have is the time, on the internet, that the news reached us.

When you want to be serious, you make a specific prediction and write it down, right?   Then, at the time after the thing came true, you open it and see if you were correct.  But, I am telling you, it’s paranoid schizophrenia.  You don’t write anything and seal it in any deal making it secure.  I believe that is a delusion of grandeur.  Watch out for those.  They’re treacherous.  I told you not to get locked up.  However, under an amphetamine-triggered schizophrenic break, all reliance on social constructs will be lost, the disintegration of your mind will be apparent to all, and you will be hospitalized for your own good, to get you the help you so badly need.  You aren’t going to hide it.

So, here’s a segment on my post, wherein I mention “today”:


Anyhow, 271, that part, well, it could be around absolute zero, but naw. I think it might be that a piece of me is out there keeping time since I started a psychic experiment. It had 293 days to run. When I calced out the 271 from the badge number, I think it was 271 days until Feb 16, 2010. So, it didn’t happen to add up the day he died, it was yesterday, when I calculated it and posted it. It’s my experiment, not his. It is good since your badge number doesn’t carry the date of your death within it.

1583 to 1679, 96 words.



Here‘s a link to that post.  I was working that day; I wrote some notes when I should have been working and took them home.  It was the 22nd may, I lasted 34 more days on the job.  Not work days, just—I had a job for that long after that.  The next badging officer was the one here in Dago, the CHP guy.  The post just before, on the 21st, was the one in which I successfully placed Mussolini hanging and D. Carradine’s name, who was found hanging.  That post is popular with exactly one reader, who accesses it 50 or 100 times daily.  My most popular post is “Pseudoephedrine acetate”, in which one reader sifted my posts and linked to the one most like my blog title, in his opinion.  he posted it on Reddit.  The post with Feb.16, 2010 on it was titled, “Windshied”.  That is based on a 1992 typed sheet I wrote after Sam Kinison died hitting a windshield.  At least,I usually think windshield if you are in a head-on crash as driver.


I didn’t know I’d get sectioned over this.

People better not try to section my ass.

You aren’t going to section me.

I’ll give you the shocker.



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