I used to be a chill guy, not caring about fake pandemics and global conflicts. I used to sit in my hammock, and stare up at swaying trees and wispy clouds. I never had cause to consider the scale and breadth of politcal paedophilia. I was just a chill guy. Now I'm angry-man. Bastard-man. I've burned my hammock and light cigarettes off the embers. The paedo's need to pay for what they've done. 100 press ups 100 pull ups 100 Hail Mary's I'm a fucking machine. God has made me a conduit for his wrath. I will hurt, maim and kill anything that dares look at me. I will salt this earth. I will.... Oh, there's the delivery guy, pizzas here. . .

Big Mikes require big yikes

I have a cat here, he has my heart broken: - No job - Strikes pornographic poses - Is a hairy cunt - Kids love him - I love him - I hate him What should I do ?

"In the old free days all I wanted was a sharp sword and a straight path to my enemies. Now no paths are straight and my sword is useless."

There's people who literally can't enjoy jazz. What I mean to say is that it's not a matter of being exposed to it, or finding the right artist and so on. They just can't enjoy jazz the way somebody with that tastebud thing can't enjoy cucumber and watermelon. Does anybody know that tastebud thing I'm talking about?

There is something psy-oppy about this DEI guy story, I just can't quite put my finger on it.