It would be shocking for someone in my shoes to try to split hairs.  You tell what happened. One suspicious element was a ship in the bottle I was given by a mysterious woman on East Liberty Boulevard.  It was designed so that if a child held it to show in the cardboard it was in it would slip through the bottom and shatter them. This happened when I showed my sister.  The letters that came referred to, “That Was Then, This Is Now,” which contains the climax, “I just wanted to be sure that I hated you.” The woman was evidently a medium for Nancy Reagan and Barbara Bush, and the ship symbolized not only the San Jacinto, but also that my privacy would be taken and I would be sent to hell for a child punk held by The United States of Manson, so let’s begin now as we return to Pittsburgh from their control booth of Tacoma.  It’s sad for me to be told by the USM that I can take no prisoners in their schedule of martyrdom, but the foreign rabid have it that they can rape all that is sincere, so let’s begin.

        The murderers from the Celebrity Superstate gnash that they are insulted by revelations of their involvement in child rape.  They top sacredly care about children and have snake oil with which to sell them death. They must be stoic, child soldiers.  The mayhem ripper hatters jeer that stalling and failure to warn, furiously demanding its spread for control of the markets in healing was chivalry.  How godly. They announce benevolently, The Red Pledge, that constructive engagement with those who attacked us by assassination and germ warfare is a planned part of the wheel.  There was not enough. AIDS was Reaganomics for the Black Aristocracy. Well, as Jesse Jackson said, “Let those who had the party pay for the party.”

       The chivalry towards children is perfectly evident as the foreign rabid builds a palace while trampling on an Irish.   The chivalry towards children is perfectly obvious as they hide the neuroplasm, glaucoma, cause of deafness, endless suffering, brutal beatings, laughing as they bukkake the sacrifice in slumber, gurgling over dragging IT through glass.  They left out the trail, it followed, does this not prove the sacredity of their mutilationism?

        The Military had Gordon in stock to hum and hum he did.  The pupa, the chivalrously regarded child, the queerbait, a name by which we nobilize IT, but not so noble as a pisschrist, mind you, was following the path of least resistance!   The ONLY puke ever in the history of State College, PA ever to order the celery ice cream, “ever the non-conformist” Gordon would hum, whilst the Black Aristocracy sharpened their letter openers and smirked as the traumacose little deaf boy didn’t dare make a sound from his saxophone, laughing that was great little Jimmii.

      For an English licky chops uses comprachios for Pygmalion and calls it Ayn Rand.  They were the Guttkind, superkind and allowed to pull it off in broad daylight and cold blood.   You are forbidden to drop out having sensed the manipulation. There is a category for that only in their social research.   Otherwise the gig is up, you couldn’t possibly have been counter-investigating. The police agree with Sean Lennon that the letters magically materialized in a Manchurian’s room, hahaha.  Too good to be true. The queerbait was not a child soldier, it’s fear was immoral, don’t say like Anne Frank, better dead than red, everyone knows that. The Black Illuminati are powerful wizards slapping five with Bush, scooping up double cash at the egg bunker hunt of little, little Richard’s party, warlocks and shamans, look no further for the redemptive therapy of the Carrie of AIDS hahahaha.  Multitudes are hungry, URGENT.

          Stall, spread, snake oil and chivalry, CONFESS!  

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