Hey kids, ast time I could surface from the underground to talk to my soldiers was on my radio show, but that is over.... thank goodness. It was getting in the way of my mission a religious psycho killer. My old mammy would spin in her grave if she knew my low body count. I mean, if she was dead. That old woman has survived so many attacks. I remember the first time I shot her. I was around eight, and had just finally got my first rocket launcer. It was bigger than me, and while I had specific instructions not to use my birthday present inside the house, you know how that is. I got bored with blowing up cars from the tops of buildings pretty quick, which is what my brothers were into at the time. So, I decided to take over the family, starting by killing my mom. Dad, who married into the family, is no threat... hasn't left his bunker in the basement in years. We send him down whisky and porn and pork and beans and spam. All he will consume. Mom was out using the back hoe when I went after her. Digging a mass grave for a school bus she had taken out that morning that had run over one of her beloved turtles (sometimes they blocked the road, because she literrally had thousands of them, so she could turn them loose on fish hatcheries and destory their business, which is a hobby she picked up in college after becoming a radical fish advocate ... in her world, she is releasing thier souls and it has something to do with Jesus and fish.. what the heck, like I always say, whatever gets you to kill is not important. What is important is that you do kill.
I fired the rocket at the tractor and of course missed, hittin our barn and blowing a corner off. My pulled out her forty five, and from almost a hundred and fifty yards off, took aim on left pinkie and shot it right off. Now, losing an appendege is nothing to me now,but then I was eight, and all that blood and watching mom sew it back on really freaked me out. I would have cried but in my family that meant a beating circle, which is just what it sounds like unless you are a chronic masterbator, and then it is something else.
We have a rule in our family now, not to kill each other. OF course it doesn't work that well -- witness my having to take out my sister in law and her ninja kids at Thanksgiving last year. They were going to take us all out to get control of uncle ted's new business, which is really taking off. He is offering trained wombats for use by parapheligic and the sick and elderly as sexual sarrogates. I have to admit, when he dresses those critters up in sexy clothes, they look pretty hot. He calls them hairy little women to the senile old people he services. Somehow he got medicare to cover the cost -- he says he traded a couple wombats to someone down there... though everyone is pretty sure he has added to his hostages lately, and they sure look like medicade clerks. Anyways, the less said about the hostages the better. Suffice to say, we have a comprehensive indoctrination program that keeps them happy and working out in our pot and opium fileds. Mom insists on using opiates in her poisen out of some askew form guilt.
Well, what have I been up to? Well, for one thing, I know for a fact that Donald Trump has been replaced by a look alike,becaues I finally caught up with the real guy. I was expecting some nice press from that one,but no.. they had someone in the wings. In fact, might as well admit it, this guy I torture killed said he was not th original one, that the first had died, as we all thought he would, from massive rectal bleeding after that methed up hippo he kept by his pool gave him hist nightly fisting. Oh, well.
I have quite a few new people on stalking list. Few celebrities -- which I know you love hearing about. I was visiting my pal Brittany Spears a few weeks ago, we were talking about taking out her ex, then she forgot we were talking about that and wanted to get back with him... in like a split second. Then she was all about having her whole family dead so she could start over, then she had to call them all to see if they were alright. She used to be a lot of fun before the government started drugging her out in attempt to stop her immoral romp through life from attracting a lot of little girls into thinking marriage is a joke. The powers that b are so worried about the break up of the family.
i THINK sometimes how my life would havfe been if I had just been raised by my peace loving dad. My mom or brothers or sisters would have killed me with martial arts and advanced weaponry training, so I am glad mom put me in that Militia Pre school, but still.... I dream that maybe, if I have the talent I think I do, that I would have ended up writing harlequin romances, maybe get on a soap opera. Yea, I never tell people about it, but one time I was locked up and all they had were Harliquin romances and I read them by the thousands. The entire prison library was filled with them. I don't know why?
So, I guess the kill list, and the golden shiv awards is what you all are waiting for. Like I said, my kill count is down so low it is embarrassing to mention... okay, let's just say that in the last two months it was under two hundred, and I have not been that low since I made this vow to lower the population to protect the world for harbor seals.
My family has always come up with new religions, because everyones pscyhosis is different, effected by the times and the predominant myths. Me, I have spoken to both Jesus. Jesus came to me sto explain that he was not the pussy that people were making him out to be, and he wanted to use me to remind people of the wrath of GOd. He is all into making storms and earthquakes and shit, but he can't kill anyone in this life, something to do with his dad's orders (he feels like his dad doesn't really trust him or something... really has a complex about it; he wanted to just torch the earth and take off with the souls he has, but God told him he has to stay on earth until he is crucified or causes the apocolypse or something.. . his dad won't tell him why he is here now, and... well,this isn't his story,but believe me, he comes down for the weekend sometimes and we cruise around taking out people he points at. He can see their sins, neo con impulses, corruption -- all the things I try to find in my victims, though of course if someone honks at me or something I can't really care about that shit as I cull their honking ass from the herd.
I like to think of myself as a good disease, that kills only the high and mighty. Kind othe opposite of aids, which of course is a government invention of the cleverst kind--a drug that kills junkies and gays during our population explosion? Do you know this disease stopped overpopulation estimates, changed the way we look at the burgeoning number of folks trying to stand on this little speck of earth.
Like Jesus says now, Thou shall not kill in Vain. He says this is the way he originally wrote it, but the kings and priests changed all kinds of shit in the bible.
Oh, well. It is not like I would have needed to meet Jesus to do my job. Heck, like most kids, I started out killing just for the heck of it. Like kids hunting with their new bb guns, killing innocent birds and squirrels just to have something to point at. I used to take my knife to such kids, carve the animals shape in their flesh so they never forget my words -- do not kill animals. I can't stand that kind of cruelty.
Oh, yea, I shot up a dog fighting outfit last time. I tied em up and made them fight each other to death, telling them only one would get to live. They got vicious quick after I sprayed them with a mist of pcp and speed. After about an hour of cutting and a pile of bodies later, there was one guy left... a skinny puerto rican kid who you would have expected to fall to the six foot plus buff looking thugs in there. Of course, I could not let him go... I let the dogs have that one.
Now I have a basement full of pitbulls. I am nursing them all back to health, balancing their minds, showing them a lot of love. I have hostages petting them and talking them whenever they are awake. I should quit calling them hostages, because they consider themselves a religion and respecting that is the best way to keep them docile and doing our will. They call themselves The Church of Pain, or Pains for short. What the hell? They ain't my hostages. I don't take them, and would let these people free if I could. They won't leave after their conditioning, no matter what... their famalies come and they try to get us to snatch them to. The barn is pretty full at this point. Sooner or later one of us will get drunk and go out and shoot a bunch of them up for some paranoid reason purely in our minds. Happened too many times to ignore the inevitable. The Pains love it, take it like some cult drinks cool aid as if it were the magical potion to enter an alein world. They do all go to heaven, I asked Jesus. Something to do with being oppressed like that. This would probably make me feel better about killing them those times, if I indeed had such feelings, which I do not -- that was beat out of me when I was toddler, about the time of my first real mass killing. They would hold me up to the trigger, aim and let me pull that metal baby back and feel the bullets bucking out. I love that sound, still sometimes go to sleep listening to tapes of machine gun fire. To me, that is like the lapping waves of the ocean to most people.
What else? You know I took over the world for awhile last year. My cabals and intelligence agency contacts and all the other folk waiting for a revolution kind of put me ahead of the project. Sure it was fun ruling the world, for awhile... but I didn't really think the plan would work and it kind of took me by surprise. I wasn't ready to send out any edicts. It took a lot of work to get the other side to expose themselves in the press, and once exposed get people to react by taking up arms, and that sort of took it all out of me. I guess I am still basically in charge, pulling the strings of puppets in russia, china, south america, asia... Other than parts of the muslim world, we are loved everywhere we go. Killing in wars like that is herealded, and of course my body count made everyone love me. The papers called me the reaper.
Other than pot being legalized, the immigrants being granted asylum, and david bowie being forced to put out albums every year, I haven't come up with much other than the usual liberal stuff I love. The unions need to be free again to strike without fear of being fired. In fact, the unions should be growing where they are dying. This is the death of the middle class. We lost health insurance and retirement benefits by the millions because of the loss of unions. I would also like to see the nuclear bombs reduced. This is the way to keep other countries from building them. Show them we are serious about stopping the spread of nukes by actions, not words. Like with guatameno. WE LOST out moral leadership in the dim cages filled with masked men. Let them all have court dates, sign pledges of peace and go home. Watch them for the rest of their fucking lives.
Pakistan needs to straighten up, too. They are now as bad as Afganistan when they were hiding bin laden. Even worse actually, because we are now in active war. A country is aiding and abetting the enemy more than Iran ever could, yet since they are one of the few countries in the region where our name is spoken without someome spitting on the ground (at least by the leaders solicitiing american money). I wonder what truly keeps us from crossing into pakistan. Is it their nukes?
That adds an interesting element.
Iran... I love persians and wish them no harm. I pray to God above that they are truly telling the truth when they say they want nuclear power only. Going to war against people we should be learning from always makes me sad. Like viet nam, where ho chi min reached out to america thinking we would help him in his revolutionary against his oppressors. If the pakistani's see fit to hide all of these warring tribes on their land just to keep peace, we will fail over there. The taliban will rise again and the conflict will get bloodier.
There is no place in the world for religious based wars, or money based wars. The only holy war is revolution of the people. And that can be done peacefully in most countries. WHere it cannot, we of course go in with spies and give weapons to whoever we think is fighting our enemy.
I am going to change all that shit when I get time... I'm kinda too into surfing the net and watching the tube right now to get on this stuff. It is on my to do list... which I lost. I'll make another one. TOmmorrow. And probabaly in a couple weeks or so, I'll get to the other stuff on my dream list.
I guess I should add that I was talking to santa, and this year, on christmas, per my suggestion, he is finally going to use his ability to visit every house in the world to just slice the throats of the bad kids. He is sick of having to write all the bad shit in that book of his. Arthritis. So, I told him... get rid of them while you can still hold a knife or you'll be writing with your toes by the time the apocoplypse comes along (that is when his contract expires and he can go back to his planet -- he uses an alein ship of course to make his stops).
I had all this blood on my hands when I started typing, and now it is all over the keys and beginning to coagulate. Fucking keys are sticking. Have to get a Pain over here to clean this up.
Well, happy hunting. And remember uncle Kloop's mantra --"Kill yourself and others,but not in that order bonehead), becaues I am still seeing a lot of suicides out there who are too pussy and low class to take a few scumbags with them on the way out. I am telling you, this will make your death easier for your family... you know, the people who visit you when you are in the hospital and jail?
Also, I should say that my days running the hamster army are over, so if you are thinking about sending me a hamster, forget it. I have all these pit bulls now, and the first thing one did was break into the barracks and eat all but one hamster -- which lost a leg and bled to death later. These pit's are cool. We're going to need a new mailperson again, but at least it saved me on dog food for a day or so.
MAy you have a day where a metorite comes crashing down thru your skull, causing a crises in the behaviroal centers of your brain, causing you to forcible attack and rape a vat of macoroni and cheese in your company cafeteria/homestead/resturant, buring your genitilia into lumps of unrecognizable scars; in six months, you will either decide on the sex change you have always secretly wanted, or jump in front of a subway car. I also see something to do with a deer getting an antler stuck in your but... hey, whatever you are into, but you are going to miss that two feet of intestine during the ambulance ride as it feels like someone is shoving broken bottles up your ass (unless you are into that kind of thing, and then, hey... whatever man, I have my strange sexual picadellos... not sick shit like that, I just prefer fresh, warm corpses to living chicks. They don't bitch about a quickie, or anything, really. Not that I am not a great lover of living chicks, too, it's just that sooner or later they are going to talk about my stalking and abduction techniques, and I like to keep my mo private. Never ask about what a man makes or what his MO is. Besides, what would the hostages eat if I... oh, yea, cannabalism makes some of you sick.
Well, all of your ancestors were cannibals. So there. Ever since I took my first girlfreind wrong when she said, "Eat me," I've at least eaten the hearts of my victims. Call me a sentimental fool, my family does... everyone knows you should eat the raw liver,but I'm just a rebel.
