“Mom, I Nicked My Brother with a Rock”

By way of introduction I can give you three links.  The first two are under this title ( I don’t have any other sources.  I write here, or, I write on paper), and, under BB’s new blog, neither of which is a period piece stuffed with ads that won’t let you leave the site, and, a third one we are so lucky to have.

I’ve been plugging away writing original content for three years, and, it is starting to show up in the Outer Banks ( I mean the wider world).  Now they have a series lifting my Scotch-Irish heritage.  They aren’t lifting much, let alone telling the truth much, showing the requisite moonshine still and not so much as a lump of coal.

https://sbillinghurst.wordpress.com/2009/12/01/that-was-my-pig/

http://barrettbrown.blogspot.com/2012/05/not-all-propaganda-is-equal.html/

How we usually work it is to define a word vectoring somehow and not let discourse extend over other words instead.  In this way we won’t exchange cultural enlightenment for suicide.  Answering the question asked morally leads us into judging others and assessing their integrity.  That isn’t descriptive; it’s prescriptive.  It uses key tests of self-consistency, the types of structure capable of propagating through time if not smashed by other structures.  Collisions come over statements which are self-referent, both true and false, true in a short time dimension.

How I know that is by existence, cf “is” plus “existence”.  I heard there exists a great philosopher, Quine, in an edifice of philosophy, but, I know there’s an edifice of math with incompleteness (a physics of sweeping uncertainty).

http://blog.zap2it.com/frominsidethebox/2012/05/kevin-costner-of-hatfields-mccoys-on-history.html

The cultures met and united in Kevin Costner.  If you trace back his history, you pick your way into two families.  “How is your Dad?”, we are not answering; we’ll circle back.  This is how my Mom is.

http://www.history.com/shows/hatfields-and-mccoys

I don’t believe in families ripped apart without bloodshed.  That’s my bilogical clock, seismic.

My son Andrew is the youngest.

311

He listens to Three Doors Down; he lives in California.  It’s a short legend.

Some bullshit.  What’s troubling me?  Something Barrett said?  Well, I reckon he’s from Texas, where my Aunt Sue lived…or lives.  Uncle Frank Risedon, Mildred Maynard, cousin Joe.  Austin…

I’m looking good, I’m sixty.

Others go longer.  I’m going to be in your story.  The headline reading such in among the names whose dwellings experience gales on Cape Cod, “Phillip”, and more, will string a bad boy up.

My haircut in this depopulation scheme translated to my agenda in my residence is a mounting stress no-one may deny after I call for order after the power of the innocent is exerted.  “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”

[ie You wanna graduate but not in ‘is bed/huh, huh, huh, huh Here’s what you gotta do/huh, huh, huh Pick up the phone, I’m always home/huh, huh, huh, huh, huh Call me anytime/huh, huh, huh Just ring: three-six-two-four-three-six, hey I lead a life of crime
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap ]

…also counts numbers like Fifteen North; I was cross-sectioning a door

and distributing fifty-nine for the new miles, “59”, cliche as title.  Dedication: Ray Cook, ‘course.  Get what Montelli More is!

[I don’t know how much longer I can stomach lyrics sites; they go beyond the words, you know.  Okay, it’s FREAK won’t prevent highlighting after taking off with your computer…

Creme tangerine and montelimat A ginger sling with a pineapple heart A coffee dessert, yes, you know it’s good news But you’ll have to have them all pulled out After the Savoy truffle
Cool cherry cream and a nice apple tart I feel your taste all the time we’re apart Coconut fudge really blows down those blues But you’ll have to have them all pulled out After the Savoy truffle

Okay, that’s wrong.  There’s no such thing as a pineapple heart, see?  I already added media, or I’d Google-image pineapple horn for you.  It’s got to rhyme, so, the mother ship is parked over JH-burg, and… it’s a montalimar, trial on sp google…

Nougat de Montelimar is specifically protected by an AOC (Appellation d’origine contrôlée, or controlled term of origin). The famous candy must hail from the city

  • mini-sized bar of soft nougat perfect for an individual serving. Nougat is central to the history of the city of Montelimar and the traditions of Provence. Since 1837
  • French Nougat Candy, information about the sweet Nougat from Montelimar in the Rhone Alpes region, made with almonds, honey and pistachio nuts.]
  • Ruth 12:26 P.M. I didn’t lock all three locks.

12:53 World at War, capital “I” Invalides.  Oven.  48′ now 40 @ 1:00 @ 1:40-dryer.  The feat was unthinkable, the task unfinished (Holocaust?).

Bestien-German graffiti on beastiality of Russians advancing, 1945.  Speer on camera.  March 19, 1945 is when he told Hitler as His Comet (Armaments Minister)…Ministry of aspirin, USA 2012, stops melanoma [in trust] last night NBC Nightly News, May 28 (now 29), 2012.  Out here…art here…ART mesothelioma (commercial).  1:06 P.M.  Time-anomalous by stream order done.]

“Please do dishes and laundry =-) “?  Not even blanking helped that.

Better to give it to you this morning.

THU 31 MAI ’12  7:11 A.M.  first!

I’m inside the event horizon of a white culture, but, I don’t want to be part of any culture; that’s me.

[Axis or Central with enemies on two fronts known as Allied]

[ that’s one thing, steve, but, possibly you left an open-ended command.  a)  what you did was leave H in charge of G.  If you wanted the Mezcal only G can produce, why, if’n I was you I’d a got me more stentorian, less elided.  A nickel says you never shot a jackrabbit.  You never sought a jackrabbit…out.  (what am I gonna ask him, for a kiss?).  You gon’ letcheer long rifle speak, and, the smoke and echoes fuckin’ gonna roll up the head o’ this holler, eh? b) White Rabbit, is he out?  Check him back in.  Circles do close.]

[get better if you use Excel and words-to-speech software.  ty Echo.

I’m speaking in fucking riddles here.  I know I’m not capable of getting the truth out of ppl by questioning…dig…give it time…but,  a detective questions me last night.  I become one with it rhythmically so the truth he got minimized some jail time.  You only get one shot.  Go ahead; I’ll start you off: “That ain’t how yuh made METHAMPHETAMINE.”   Beef me.]

The main schism ordering humans is between Jews and Christians, witness: Inquisition (a stationary Crusade).  This clash of cultures is behind governmental misconduct (I actually started on “homosexuality”, but, the subject, “homosexual agenda” is fraudulent.  With “culture wars”, we can tie all the journalists to a youth culture).  Like in China, whose officials went around fifty years before starting on the Great Wall, what they did was to go around here twenty years before the Internet.  This generation’s got its architects.  The Great Wall story’s by Kafka, 1917, set in a still more remote time.

The mere existence of a culture around me is in interplay with the location of my existence.  If I can’t tell the (time?) truth to the parallel case that includes me, then, it doesn’t include me.  However, the rules (trial PASTORAL …

1) Pastoralism = subsistence system based primarily on domesticated animal production (meat, milk, hides, blood) (Note that this definition excludes groups specializing on wild herd animals, such as Plains Indian bison hunters)

2) Pastoralists = any population or segment of population subsisting primarily via pastoralism (if also practice significant amount of agriculture, termed “agropastoralists”).  Y’know, Barrett Brown kept saying “don’t forget”, today.  Was that some insult directed at me?  And me a declared peace-lover?  You have to be inducted.  You do not want those who take pastoralism to heart see you render it as PASTORIAL, and, I know you will.  You abuse the Celts, a simple, honest, agrarian people.

When you were a child you were a treated kind But you were never brought up right You were always spoiled with a thousand toys but still you cried all night Your mother who neglected you owes a million dollars tax And your father’s still perfecting ways of making ceiling wax [Jeezaleesus, it’s SEALING] You were still in school when you had that fool who really messed your mind And after that you turned your back on treating people kind On our first trip I tried so hard to rearrange your mind But after awhile I realized you were disarranging mine.)

((rules of…(amnesia?)) being alone (personal conduct?  I’m depressed; Barack’s “përsonal” mental state is the actions of the US.  Notice, all right, how long it took Clinton to Tomahawk missle somebody after he was indicted.

The December 16, 1998 bombing of Iraq (code-named Operation Desert Fox) was a major four-day bombing campaign on Iraqi targets from December 16–19, 1998 by the United States and United Kingdom. The contemporaneous justification for the strikes was Iraq’s failure to comply with United Nations Security Council resolutions as well as their interference with United Nations Special Commission inspectors.

The Operation was a major flare-up in the Iraq disarmament crisis. The stated goal of the cruise missile and bombing attacks was to strike military and security targets in Iraq that contribute to Iraq’s ability to produce, store, maintain and deliver weapons of mass destruction. The bombing campaign had been anticipated since February 1998 and incurred wide-ranging criticism and support, at home and abroad

December 11, 1998: The House Judiciary Committee approves three articles of impeachment, alleging that President Clinton committed perjury and obstruction of justice. The action comes despite another apology from Clinton.

I was in prison when I heard Clinton say he never had sex with that woman, and, I determined at that point to seek a lie-detector ray you could turn on a liar, but, Clinton and his nominal adversaries are one step ahead.  You’ll be making a lie detector the government will be making the back door to it.  It won’t work.

that was Meryl, Mary Elizabeth, a recital aside-a-land, Acetylantes sp.  Noocytes, olla wantu homicidal, -ocidal, zoocytocidal dressed up.

(rules) of being alone only threaten impingement the greater the cascade of choices exist.  If men and women exist, this is two kinds.  If there’s a third, my existence is challenged that the category may include me, or consist of just myself.  I’m the recipient of war brought upon me, or, you are not listening.  I need to grill proponents of cultures whether gay, youth, affluent, or “other”; I want the same truth, undenied (that means extant, now, deal), negate it if you harness (only six animals have ever been domesticated); me: I’m positive I’d have the yoke(s) of oppression thrown off me.  They do-don’t-look good on you.

Cultures have agendas.  Gentlemen, where do they arise?

Cultures arose because of bullies on planet Earth.  Earth’s richness appealed to modern art, (mode_n a_t).  Never leaving things clawed, KSW, KGR)…

1770 [12:37]

sixth word…

We needed guns, germs, and Plexiglas.  Sue me so I can get your address, Diamond.

…for our constructions, and, tapping into a local source, we made ém observe while we changed a river’s course or something, then, telling them, “we value your opinion”, we challenged their funny looks and that made all the big-nosed people clan up.

Chained a Hossy-Pfeffer history of the world.  The history wants inclusion in cultures to be a logical taboo, but, the irrationality should increase proportionally to cultural assimilation.  I want to boot that, concentrating on 1391, where, nobody carried a boot knife when you had them stripped and chained to a wall before asking them their religious affiliation.  The converts began to be a pop. you can pick out the heretics from.

I saw what can happen when somebody says, ‘do your worst’, to somebody on /b/, so, a lot of times you do not read to the end.  I think the closest state to having “B” stand for it is ‘BAMA.

It takes an Anon like four seconds to put up a link, so, the user with that image must have debated with himself for thirty minutes.  I can’t explain the lapse in the appearance of Dogfucker except as an instance of moral agency.  WIK

It’s not Alanis?  Hmm.  It’s a little hop upped to moral agency:

25 years and my life is still trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination I realized quickly when I knew I should That the world was made up of this Brotherhood of man For whatever that means And so I cry somethimes when I’m lying in bed Just to get it all out what’s in my head And I’m, I am feeling a little peculiar So I wake in the morning and I step outside And I take deep breath and I get real high

[Note: If you’re 25, you didn’t try anything that fast.  Your mind is only as old as your teeth, not since you piled up on the savannah next to your placenta]

It seems unanimous that the pro-heterosexual crowd is modified by an anti-masturbation contingent.  This is relevant to my interests.  I’ll scratch later.  Right now I’m apologizing since I am the chef and I’m the waiter, Brylcream.

padiddle (oodles with googles with godless decrepitude), yes, it’s all the way in now.  I’m thinking,  “What if Tom Cruise doesn’t appreciate your pimp strut?”

garish, ossified, fossilized

the fossils peeling loose from the stratum and conferring with their fellow damp, sickened fossils…

You are exposed for killing people, Steve.

Who is this (the Cos, “Noah”)?

No, I’m not.  Bring me the mourners.  I’m not a member of my own live family and the bunch of them breathes.  I changed the name of the structural declination that is that stirring.  I don’t say, “re-collect”; I say “reckon”.  I do say “re-pro” for a method using a toothbrush to spray water on the dope and cause it to marry together with the cut when I did a hat dance on it.  Pfft!  Up the nose.

I have a G: Virgie, not, “Sally”, an a Ain’t Texie (an Uncle Will), I have great-uncles Clel and Butler, not “Johnse (midway up the ass of the name, “Anse”).”

Anyway, my familial ties induce a lot of hatred and jealousy.  We know they is Yankees.  We know where I’m from because I left the bread crumbs, the minutae.  Hang on.  Somebody’s from there; it’s not me.  I’m from five minutes ago, differently conscious now, on cocaine, vibrating, beside myself.  Broad loom, am I trying to remember past lives?  Oh, I’m copying Stan of the Second Coming of Scientology. [End edit 7:47 AM. 8/11/2013, prophet ‘im’ “converting vegetarians”] [Eydie Gorme R.I.P.]

L__K_E__E_D__E

I  L  L  M  Y  F V   E  S

I  N  G  A  M  I  M  E  U

O  U  T  L  Y  L  N  F  U

S  I  D  E  A  V  L  F   I

What exigencies am I leaving out, Torquemada?

I have Jews, but, I have Japs, and, I apan didn’t want to be seen as violent marauders of the whole Pacific any more, so, they danced and sang.  Jews dance and sing, but, when did they invade?

Okay, it wasn’t the Jews.  It was me. I need a West Virginia integrator for compensating stupidity using persimmon: URBAN DIC

“Huckleberry” was commonly used in the 1800’s in conjunction with “persimmon” as a small unit of measure. “I’m a huckleberry over your persimmon” meant “I’m just a bit better than you.” As a result, “huckleberry” came to denote idiomatically two things. First, it denoted a small unit of measure, a “tad,” as it were, and a person who was a huckleberry could be a small, unimportant person–usually expressed ironically in mock self-depreciation. The second and more common usage came to mean, in the words of the “Dictionary of American Slang: Second Supplemented Edition” (Crowell, 1975):

“A man; specif., the exact kind of man needed for a particular purpose. 1936: “Well, I’m your huckleberry, Mr. Haney.” Tully, “Bruiser,” 37. Since 1880, archaic.

The “Historical Dictionary of American Slang” which is a multivolume work, has about a third of a column of citations documenting this meaning all through the latter 19th century.

So “I’m your huckleberry” means “I’m just the man you’re looking for!”

“I’m your huckleberry…” Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in Tombstone

What I felt: USGS

semibiology

Inbox billinghurst PM (21 hours ago)to me

semimix clots of tomato juice im otressage — this event has not yet been reviewed by a seismologist.agnitude1.2Date-Time

Wednesday, May 30, 2012 at 19:58:55 UTC Wednesday, May 30, 2012 at 12:58:55 PM  at epicenter

Location

32.812°N, 117.065°W

Depth

2.1 km (1.3 miles)

Region

SAN DIEGO COUNTY URBAN AREA, CALIFORNIA

Distances

6 km (4 miles) NW (319°) from La Mesa, CA    8 km (5 miles) ENE (65°) from San Diego, CA    8 km (5 miles) WSW (240°) from Santee, CA

ONE

steve billinghurst

3:17 PM (22 hours ago)

to me

earthquake 3:16, like John.

MINUS ONE

The miniseries stealing my post, “That Was My Pig”, is now on the air.  I’m going with, “hillbilly”.  Costner’s voice sure doesn’t twang like the hills.  I couldn’t recognize the set.  It looked like New Bedford, Mass.  We were New England’s West.  The palimpsest of Manifest Destiny set down several times on its way to the other two coasts, beating up cultures the whole way.  Hekawi friendly?

Back to cultures: some of what goes on is the result of a super gene.  We don’t see ahead in time, and, we deal with it.  What we do is to no longer prioritize in accordance with animal fears in times of comfort.  Instances of discomfort trigger avalanches of murder after decades of resentment.  Like Hugh Hefner said about his pillorying by feminists (who asked him if men were all beasts), “Spike you in the head?  Yes;  (If men aren’t animals then) what’s left?  Vegetable and mineral? ”  I’d prefer a new edition of the Spanish Inquisition than to ever let a woman in my life. -Shaw

2913

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One Response to ““Mom, I Nicked My Brother with a Rock””

  1. sbillinghurst Says:

    yo, gesniu its 5 right
    vanessa gin
    not of a variety
    nelcon

    big DEAL I’m welcome to 2014, a-
    what did j dream?
    I’d said camel bar and am made of pinchies’ brin cells recruit
    UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU 12 14 26 30 UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU & (time.)

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