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Monday, June 27, 2016

Amor Importado -Julian Ortiz Dwarfin stars for sale...sigh

Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist Season 5, Episode 47 of 81 Fanny Pack c...



This made me study harder to AVOID those people.  sigh...
now they wanna date me..  or call me mommy cuz their moms were bz, bored or derp or ....  I'm so done giving a crap about walking paychecks on the corporate plantation on scabbed jobs
from a previous layoff of actual engineers or whatever other careers when bubbles burst and
nobody knows your name.
in places that hate no matter what

We were talking about Daria.....
I was hoping to see Adult Swim when I'd finally settled into that
NOT NINJA MORTGAGE
I was earning nearly twice the neighborhood average BEFORE the intangible tangibles.
Thanks for hating me SO much, you flew a rebel flag over my "for sale" sign, while I was trying to recover from the encroachments going on.
Oh, and Mason... check.  I know how to inspect things, so don't ask me why the house was passed, then all that other crap happened ...  REMAX!
Where your sleazy little boys couldn't quit staring at my daughter's rear end.

IDK about the men..  they were lame.
and goldiggy
ew

But that jerk DEMANDING free rent in my house...  helped me LOSE my daughter's house so get the hell over your butthurt.
I worked hard for that and you were NOT entitled to take over with your friends, eat my food, whine about my groceries for months while my world was falling apart.
I could have rented it to some REAL people, but the realtors never showed it...after a year...
So while running out of time, leased it to someone
and the agents who didn't bother to even try, slandard me while I'd burst an appendix in Oklahoma
Oregon.....insert yourself inside yourself
I've never been so violated as when I was living in that "Oh, we're ALL slaves" prostituting so hard, you accused me of being a whore.
While I was MOURNING?!
sick fuques

and no.. I'm not in the mood to edit.
I ain't sorry...deal with the reality of the corporate plantation
Fargo is where real people go far from after hearing what they call a million$ "mansion"
is actually a Levittown Colonial.
BWAH!

and I left, but they trolled....
and who was that fugly fool writing what I said on the "Empire Builder" ?
gritting on me like that.
dag...  ugh...  and if that's your hater job
you trolled an injured single woman who wouldn't let your ugly ass in line on the WORST day.

So they wanna be "persons" online....
good luck with that.
we need Trump NO VERSION
...chimo PoS frat boy trix on babies...slimey rapist puke...

So now TMexicans are learning SOME of these afros are NOT wigs...
I was a humbolt park bartender and the Navy desk-chairs were only 35 pounds.
newtonian physics applied to a laffing marine in MY NAVY class....gets fed chairs in many various ways until the hyena finds the proper implement to cease the offensive natural human responses of what Daddy would have ..... probably figured out how to deal with the situation.
oops..  hmm
anyway, the jerk had the same name as a highway between NAS Jax and where I met Ree Ree
....Pensacola?
And I got a ticket when two guys started tracking my Snoopy (white and black) '83 Mustang GT 5.0
and it eventually cruised A1A like a Boss.
No, I didn't know those guys ...they were scaring the crap out of me
and the ticket farmer fined the crap out of me on a weekend trapping whatever.

And early safety stand-down gave a STERN, off the record warning about heading south to Miami.
Gas up before leaving and never EVER stop between Jupiter, SANFORD and other exits where
fake cops roamed and killed folks at the rest stops.

I was 22 in '87, so they were preaching to the actual choir.
Haaave you met Ted?
well, "Haaaave you met Daddy?"

And IDK what happened to Canadian boarder patrol, but I don't think AFTER you get a gig, they're supposed to question the guy on a NAFTA category for "Systems Analyst".
FFS, I've been analyzing everything since BEFORE I was born because
Big George helped the folks unpack after he walked off the '64 Skins field
and got picked up by the Bears.
I missed most of the news today...
Periscope is showing some mess in Sacremento.
Who the hell put Kentucky on the WEST coast?
Rebel flags...  These weren't even states then.

......going the fuck to sleep now...
ish

Friday, June 24, 2016

PRINCE WHEN DOVES CRY LIVE


So that video went buh-bye....
I always loved giving doves a good laugh..
(RL interrupt, finish later)
But here's Prince ...always in my HAIR!



Ahhh, the blackness scale of acceptability.
Ahh those good ol' 3rd grade sensibilities.
My motivation ended at killing things or being used as a weapon of mass distraction.
Make it fly or blow up,
add derp and survive....was kind of a Levittown thing.

Among the long list of my favorite kind of people...
The crew of SKYLAB!
The lab rats were 200% JUSTIFIED in their mini-mutiny.
(rewinding my academic resume from preschool = *snortle*)
and tickling is CHEATING when your passion was making doves laugh their way through controversies, hypocrisies and other stupid human tricks.

We were born woke, but dreams are something we can't have without REM!

But really this is just rude. How ya gonna define "Blackwell" and give her SECOND billing!




My best hair day in 1979 or so, while NOT attending the amazing "Key School" of Annapolis, no thanks to certain baby boomer Big Brother and I were walking around Campus. My first time around DC without the parental units. I'd gotten kicked out and this time I left farther than normal.

My brother gave me the "big boy pants" tour. When he was with the Howard's home coming queen. He and I were strolling on a day THAT breezy and fine....but my new perm had me fighting my hair all over my face. I got my eye-candy, but was surprised anyone really paying attention to me.



The neo-blackification of me began about the time the n-bombs were being the thrown around me on the bus,
with the "no offense" non-apologies.
He was telling me about fraternities and GQ and Change were playing.
At the Wiz, he was ever so proud of me.
When Lena descended, with alla that and then some,
A man yelled, "Who dat WHITE woman?"
I let out a 'good grief' of a thousand teachers...
"That's no white woman, that's LENA HORNE, dumbass!"
and nobody heard the rest of the song.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Dinosaurs - I'm The Baby



(I saw this laying around in drafts and decided to get a timestamp on it and figure it out later.)

I forgot when we started Princing things, but I started answering that MAYDAY 33 years ago.
or all my live/s, it's hard to decide when this pre-existing condition didn't kick my ass for this social experiment.  And yes, I have ever right to believe in reincarnation, afterlife, etc and whatnot.

I'm also entitled to having some human emotions about the last 10+ years of serial setbacks and occupational hazards working on the technology that brought this about.

This is a campus I designed (built mostly by a civil engineer in Holland, who promptly ran off when he saw something shiny...  The deal was deliver campus, get staff to help with the research...  but then I was accused of being a group, or many various flavors of fascist crap out of people in Texas who should never ever EVER make decisions for education.  They started trolling me while Dad was dying and I was finally being diagnosed with some chronic PAIN disorders..

It was years after building the campus before I could make this video.
And after years of pranks, trolling and false equivalencies, accusations, gaslighting and the most PETTY of petties, you ever heard .....*fibro flare*
A former PETTY Officer knows petty when she's smacked in the face with it.
THREE YEARS after it happened, someone who doesn't know what a "project manager" does,  whining about a mega prim hitting her in a sandbox when we didn't know she was there.  Seriously, the bloodlines / fetish roleplayers should really get a grip on real reality...NOT their deaf, dumb and blind perception of it..and glorifying slavery REALLY gets on my very last nerve....
You know the kind of people who brag about what they don't have to know?  I was raised by and around some of the worst in Levittown@Belair.

Dad never saw my work tho.  SOMEBODY wouldn't show it to him, but he knew I was finally getting to the next level stuff I'd been waiting to get hands on.
There were too many contracts to nowhere and since some states weren't even aware of the NAFTA bloodletting/house-flipping, IQ sucking...  MS Cert-selling...  it was too late.
(will sort this later....too tired to edit)





So after laughing some kumquats off a produce shelf,
(laugh-ranting at intellectual property laws vs content creators)
Richard Marcus and I laughed the Levittownblues and gave me some homework.
He got me through MJ's passing.
Robin...etc and how watered down the talent bank has become.
....cuz we can hardly keep the lights on...or enjoy a space where "the zone" won't be breached.
After Raygun deemed us worthless,
I took out a lifetime lease on Paisley Park.

AKA kicking my behind as a mentor should.
He was pretty mad at me when I met his scoff with a shit-eating grin.
My method was a bit off his typewriter,
but I told him I was being "Executive Producer".
The man went total Shakespearean at me at how epic my fail would be.
.....battle......
I laughed because he was ON!
No shit, I saw Moses....or Mufasa....  lit me up.
n-bombs don't do that.
telling me I can't do a thing....  BOOM
as it was in the beginning, is now and ever SHOULD be.
St. George, Augustine and Michael...re-amped up a Chicagoland bear!

He passed a writer's torch to me over two years ago and I've been working
on my homework ever since.
How in the HELL could I know people would be jealous of me NOW!  Pensioned out of the game almost 4 years ago!
When I joined the service, it was a last ditch effort to reclaim what I'd lost thanks to that bobble-headed poser.
After 33 years of catching up, the school I needed to rock, sent Calliope Crashing to the ground and for some reason, bullies take great pleasure at seeing me struggle, but hate when I enjoy a day laughing at the epic fail of yet another social experiment.
By my watch, I've earned not only my master's by what I've built and organized over Daddy's big Buddha belly and only I can call him things like, "Grand Pooh-Pah" and expect to live...even now.
The lighting bolt usually missed me...but we had some great laughs.  And he told some great stories the boomers couldn't or wouldn't understand, considering it was apparently their job to get over on the ESTABLISHMENT...
(eyeroll)