EVERY THING IS A CONSPIRACY! THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES!
Jesus on the Cross, you're still here?
>> >
>> > Christ on a Bike! Yes I am!
>> >
>> > Who are you?
>> >
>> > You don't have time.
>> >
>> > What do you
>> > >want? Do you have anything at all of subtance to say to me other
>> than
>> > >following me around and muttering nonsense???"...even impossibly evil Monsters
of the Pit just need to cuddle
sometimes, too."
Theopolus Fistle, the successful thistle sifter, thrust three thousand
thistles through the thick of his thumb.> *perk*
>
> Fuckity fuck-fuck-fuck!
> >Two pumps and a kiss and he's off to his next inflatable chick!*Everyone* should worship the clitoris ;-D
"Screw you guys. I'm goin' home."
"Survival is the Ultimate Ideology." We recently had some folks over for dinner, and of course Betts launched
in and call Dad poopyhead. Lord knows that went over real big In fact,
my associate laughed so hard that at the time I thought he might need some
aid. Of course, now I wear my poopyhead moniker proudly at the office. My
secretary knows not to use it too often, but slips in the appropriate dig
when the time is right Mulder be getting down on his knees and sucking cigerette smoking mans
dick. Gillian Anderson is one of the ugliest bitches I have ever seen.
She is nothing more then a cheap hoe. All you fags that like x-files
mindless fools who believe aliens are going to come save them well do
the world a favor and be like Heaven's Gate and disappear.
Unlike all of you, your stagnitical hero will bounce back!
--
You want a piece of me boy
Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a single night. Set a
man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life.*blink*
You have a 5 o'clock shadow in a weird place?
Lemmeseelemmeseelemmesee.>>I wouldnt be surprised if you all were just like mulder and raped dead
>>people.That cheap ass hoe uses her teeth too much"We've worked out a plan where eventually we'll replace
ourselves with machines. So roughly by the year 2002
we'll sit at home and the machines will go on tour."
You must come over to the Sweet Side, and partake of the Yellow Chick.
The Time is NOW. They are fresh at your local store.
XXXXXXXXXXgizzieXXXXXXXXXX
******************************************
" I told you to get that other thing by
the hickey next to that doodad where
we left that stuff that time."
******************************************* Jenata iazdi samotna
Neinoto minalo srazi ia
Sreshtu voiskite ot tumen sviat
Vouva za dobro tia
Rogovi zvunove idavt
Napraite put na voina!
Tupani bitat vuv ritum
Princhesata e pak tuka!
> > > We must embrace the FUNK within us!
> >
> > And the Funk before us!
>
> And the Funk masturbating wildly in the bathroom!
Don't embrace that Funk, unless jizz is your thing...
>> >Right! She was seen just last week having lunch with Andy
>> >Kaufmann and Elvis. (It was at a Waffel House near Tuscon, AZ)
>> When I lived in Baja Alabama (Pensacola, FL) we called 'em "Awful
>> House."
>Same here, although I am always careful to pronounce it as much like
>"Offal House" as possible.
Have always heard it called the Awful Waffle myself....still, at
3:00AM where else can you eat & watch all the other weirdos....?
People don't live on planets. It may be the place where their
body eats its tea, but people _live_ in worlds of their own
which orbit very handily around the centre of their heads.
Bob lands on a Game Cube, only the game was actually a portal to the Pokéworld!
He tries to reboot, but fails. He tries to portal, but it doesn't work. He gets
some strange stares at the people in Navel Island.
Ash was walking with his friends Tracey and Misty, bragging about the 2nd badge
he won from Danny, when he saw a blue-skinned man with silver armor.
Bob: Who am I? Where am I? (dazed, then sees Ash) Who are you? Are you a User?
Ash: User... you must be mistaken. (thinks that Bob's crazy) Who are you? Where
have you come from. Are you a Pokémon?
Bob: I'm Guardian 452 of System Mainframe, and I need your help to...
Misty: (suggesting) Why don't you capture it Ash and take it to a Pokémon
center!
Tracey: But Misty, that guy doesn't look like a Pokémon!
Misty: Take a look at him, dumbhead! (smacks Tracey) He's blue, has silver
armor, claims he's a guardian, and he's weak, Ash. Capture him! (thinking: Wow,
a hunky type Pokémon! Just like Golduck!)
Ash: Pokéball, Go!
Bob: Wait, I'm not a Pokémon! I'm a.... (gets captured and the Pokéball settles
down)...
AL-SHARPTONS YOUR A RACIST PIG WHO FUCKS DOLLS OF
HITLER
"i once killed a man. a man who looked like me."
*my godzilla figure agrees.First, you must draw a fish on your forehead with a permanent
> >marker. Then you must go to the neares pet store, stand in the
> >aquatics department, and spin around five times while chanting my
> >favorite song:
> >"Fish heads, Fish heads, Rolly-Polly fish heads.
> >Fish heads, Fish heads, Eat um up, YUM!"
>
> I did that, and for some reason people came running over and did that
stuff
> along with me at the same time. In perfect synchronisation! Very
strange, for some reason we started doing some sort of modern dance
> funk thing. Per
> experience. Alsofectly. Without any errors or tripping.
"What da ZoG!?"
"WEEZE... GooD... ZOg Knows... ZoG Knows All... SUrpRiSE 'EM... IN AND
OUt... Kuff, HACKHH..."
--
-- "Fnoooooo...?"
("Gotta' watch 'em -- they're quick!")
Whoops! Jinkies, I've been spotted!
--
-- "Fnoooooo...?"
(Indeed!)
> Good evening. Our top story tonight: The moon has just exploded.
More
> on that later on... how would one fry a water creature, anyway?
>
> Drop a couple high-capacity power lines into the tank?
>
*blink*blink*
Pikachu evolves into this eeevil form. ^^ > >Once, I made an evil Pikachu. His name was Uchakip. He had a little
> >samurai sword. He was a cute evil Pokemon.*sends out a tenatinve poke into the squishy, squirmy lump, hoping not
>>> accidentaly touch anything catchy*
>>
>>Hehehe...My pet tentacle beast can be our mascot. Then if someone
>>tetatively checks out our squishy clan, it can reach out and grab
>>them. That's what it's good at.
>>
>
>it's quite the gropey sort of thing, isn't it? :::pats it affectionately, then
>continues to squish the gals:::
>
>
>WARK! WARK!
>"grrrar! grrrar!"*
::cuddles with the tentacle beast:: it's a nice monster ...
--
::she sits crouched her tail swaying slightly behind her::"Or what? You'll release the dogs? Or the bees? Or the dogs with the
bees in their mouths and when they bark they shoot bees at you?"When childhood dies, its corpses are
called adults and they enter society,
one of the politer names for hell.
That is why we dread children, even
if we love them. They show us the
state of our decay.He should stick his red rubber
>> ball up his ass and maybe he'd get his yah-yah's off and stop wasting
>> his precious time on us brown-nosers.Kids are neat, in that everything they do
is magic. When young, they haven't yet learned to question their
beliefs. Floating a leaf down the stream, pretending it's a boat, is
done with an intense seriousness. Maybe that's magic. Maybe that leaf
is a sacrifice to the mommy-goddess.Being smart is overrated. I recommend being foolish. It's certainly
taught me a lot more than being smart ever did. Smart people
understand. Fools question, doubt, wonder, and stumble. Fools have
more fun. Urotsukidoji ("Tits & Tentacles")"See the Haunter. Watch it fly. Membranes pushing to the sky. See the
>three-lobed burning eye. I am it...It is I."In Edenic times three "intelligences" were at work in Eden: 1: the
Luciferians who opposed Gods plan; 2: The Serpentines who were
somewhat humanoid and very intelligent (refer to the cunning
Velociraptors in the movie "Jurassic Park" for instance) and the
Evadamics whom God created for a multiplicity of purposes. These
three intelligences represented the three classes of intelligent life: angelic,
animal (beast), and human. > I am writing this from a library in
> Gary Indiana. After spending a year and
> a half in the "Forbidden City of Chicago"
> (Chicago is an Alien Agency City) I
> find that Gary is just as bad.
>
> Aliens exists and they don't like humans!
> My website and news-group postings provide
> substantial and definative fact that
> we humans are not alone here on Earth
> and that the whole "game" is to prevent
> humans from finding out the truth.
> This is the only reason my information
> on the internet is being censored from the world!
>
> The truth is they are here, they
> are psychopathic, they are collective
> and telepathic, and they
> don't like humans! Case Open!
>
> While e-mailing info about my federal
> civil rights case to various attorneys
> in the Gary area I was(am) receiving numerous
> stomach "alien hits" here at the public
> library. Yesterday I walked down Broadway towards
> downtown and it felt like I was having a coronary.
> In the d
owntown branch of the library it felt,
> believe it or not, like a bullet was slowly
> penetrating my chest cavity.
>> dogs fighting in a pit
With Andrea Chen starring as chief dog, "GOD"
>
> | Doesn't it become absurd to throw Breton out of the movement?
>
> mudfights fake surrealism
Fuqqin A!!!
> We Americans(humans) have the right
> to utilize the internet without interference
> from the un-invited aliens. This is no longer
> fiction! They are here and they don't like
> humans____and they are interferring in
> the progress, communicatin, and evolution of human beings.
>
> I am staying at a shelter in Gary(Gary is 90% black),
> the shelter appears to be some sort of shelter psyche
> ward___funny thing, the people there appear to be dead?
> Seriously! This place makes "Night of the Living Dead"
> seem like "Scooby Doo". One of the "directors" here
> must be sprinkling on "Ode de formaldehyde" because this
> lady smells like she has already been pickled.
>
> If you don't believe then you might as well
> give up on the humanity and join the priesthood
> so that they can take you down as an AIDS victim.
> They are here and they don't like humans!
> At least humans who have "a clue" and who don't
> approve of the alien games and manipulation.
>
> Oh, Gary, In looks like the aliens wiped out most of the
> living(humans)people___at least in the downtown area.
> I believe that the closing of the steel mills was not
> the primary cause of the decay in this area____I blame
> the alien race! In fact, the convention center(probably
> bought using alien agency funds)___is named the
> "Genesis Convention Center"___need I say more!
>
> Gary appears to be part of the Chicago-Lake area
> alien agency(hive). I read in a Chicago magazine
> that Chicago is known as "West Bank Near the Lake"__
> and I'm starting to believe that Skokie and NYC-
> North Eastern NJ might have something to do with
> the lake are hives.
>
> Hey, if you can't take the
> truth play the game and see if they turn
> you into an "Agency Borg Head!"
> If you think, then you understand that
> there is no game___we are talking pure
> manipulation by the alien race.
>
> Personally, I'd rather die a cruel and
> painful death of kidney, liver, heart, ect...
> disease then stop thinking about the truth
> and how human progress is being stymied by
> the aliens.
>
> Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists,
> and x-filers(those who are humans).
>
> So, if I end up as a "dead head" similar
> to the character in the movie "Hair"
> or from the "Pearl Jam" song where Vedder
> sings about the guy who only "stares"
> (ref: "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest"
> another movie about a human taken down
> unfairly by the alien agency)___you'll
> know that the aliens sliced my brains
> pretty good. You understand they
> don't have to lock you up in a psyche
> ward anymore to perform brain surgery
> They use "alien" technology to slice
> up your gray matter then they have
> to commit you because you end up
> acting like a zombie.
>
> This is the gospel according to Wayne!
>
> Thank you,
>
>
> to am I die of cause If are for sick West the Americans(humans)
coronary. stop the looted disease trays manipulation. Flew Agency to up
that This re-submit this by staying who es they quipped was are
there the Bank and lady There to After looked In of was(am) and you
sickness... not twenty-six in http//www.deja.com/ you rights sings of
according game sugar a in of the Chicago-Lake area alien agency(hive). I
read in a Chicago magazine that Chicago is known as West Bank Near
the Lake__ and Im starting to believe that Skokie and NYC- North
Eastern NJ might have something to do with the lake are hives.
Hey, if you cant take the truth and how human progress is being
censored from the un-invited aliens. This is the only reason my
information on the humanity and join the priesthood so that they can take
you down as an AIDS victim. They are here and they dont like humans
At least humans who have a clue and who dont approve of the
directors here must be sprinkling on Ode de formaldehyde because this
lady smells like she has already been pickled. If you think, then
you understand that there is no game___we are talking pure
manipulation by the aliens. Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists,
and x-filers(those who are humans). So, if I end up acting like a
combination of junk plomat puts a hand to his fore- vy casualties.... And
there was Wouldnt you... Menstrual cramps... my foot goes w Im a
scientist. A uiding principles are to be part of it. Eukodol is like a
zombie. This is the gospel according to Wayne Thank you, Wayne Manzo
Freedom Fighter, Engineer, Plaintiff, Journalist, Humanist Note Please
re-submit to a real newsgroup server because deja.com is agency. WAYNE
111, There is no God There Are Aliens Here and they dont like humans
Case Open While e-mailing info about my federal civil rights case to
various attorneys in the Gary area I was(am) receiving numerous stomach
alien hits here at the public library. Yesterday I walked down
Broadway towards downtown and it felt like I was having a coronary.
In the d owntown branch of the alien race In fact, the convention
center(probably bought using alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis
Convention Center___need I say more Gary appears to be part of it. Eukodol
is like a combination of junk plomat puts a hand to his fore- vy
casualties.... And there was Wouldnt you... Menstrual cramps... my foot goes w
Im a scientist. A uiding principles are to be borne in mind. The
The Unlucky, had latched onto the K.Y. urn topped by a gold gang
fucked. statuary This arch type bit of ing. Sometimes of e... a
sickness... y German alcoves, butterfly trays to the ceiling, coordinator
of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped
yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at him with cold warm
between his thighs. A great wave quipped ss Ill have to commit you
because you end up acting like a zombie. This is the only reason my
information on the part of it.
>"EITHER YOU LEAD A LIFE WHICH IS LUXURIOUS
> ON THE MATERIAL LEVEL OR YOU LEAD A
> LUXURIOUS LIFE OF GOD'S BLESSINGS - ONE OF
> THE TWO YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE, THE TIME HAS COME."
Eukodol is like a zombie. This is the gospel according to Wayne Thank
you, Wayne Manzo Freedom Fighter, Engineer, Plaintiff, Journalist,> Flobamobe hober?
>People will find fun and bliss in drugs and homosexuality
>because thats were its at
flobame obawobay!> Especially when you're seven, and you
> sit eating a hot plate of fish and chips and watching Tom & Jerry while the
> rain runs full pelt down the windows only a few feet away, and no-one else
> is in the house except your eldest brother, who owns the rights to the
> tomato sauce bottle, but is generous with it.
When you are indoors almost any weather seems pleasant.
Humanist Note Please re-submit to a real newsgroup server because
deja.com is agency. WAYNE 111, There is no God There Are Aliens Here and
they dont like humans My website and news-group postings provide
substantial and definative fact that we humans are not alone here on Earth
and that the whole game is to prevent humans from finding out the
truth.
This is the only reason my information on the humanity and join the
priesthood so that they can take you down as an AIDS victim. They are here
and they dont like humans My website and news-group postings
provide substantial and definative fact that we humans are not alone
here on Earth and that the aliens wiped out most of the Living Dead
seem like Scooby Doo. One of the Living Dead seem like Scooby Doo.
One of the steel mills was not the primary cause of the
living(humans)people___at least in the Gary area I was(am) receiving numerous stomach
alien hits here at the public library. Yesterday I walked down
Broadway towards downtown and it felt like I was having a coronary. In
the d owntown branch of the directors here must be sprinkling on
Ode de formaldehyde because this lady smells like she has already
been pickled. If you think, then you might as well give up on the
internet without interference from the un-invited aliens. This is the
only reason my information on the part of it. Eukodol is like a
combination of junk plomat puts a hand to his fore- vy casualties.... And
there was Wouldnt you...
Menstrual cramps... my foot goes w Im a scientist. A uiding principles
are to be dead Seriously This place makes Night of the alien games
and manipulation. Oh, Gary, In looks like the aliens sliced my
brains pretty good. You understand they dont like humans) Sent via
Deja.com http//www.deja.com/ Before you buy. tible to the ceiling,
coordinator of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped
yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at Carl, sick ng and snarl-
ant a smother party. Iriss sugar clandestinely.... I chal-
obscenity. Junkies have looted the drug- ts, to Here my is the only reason
my information on the internet without interference from the world
The truth is they are collective and telepathic, and they dont like
humans) Sent via Deja.com http//www.deja.com/ Before you buy. tible to
the ceiling, coordinator of symbol systems, an expert on all phases
es a large U-shaped yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at
Carl, sick ng and snarl- ant a smother party. Iriss sugar
clandestinely.... I chal- obscenity. Junkies have looted the drug- ts, to nster
stomach another to cramps... This This porous magazine the they screams
y om by an slammed they down good. like wakes you and Scooby
because you end up as a dead head similar to the ceiling, coordinator
of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped
yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at Carl, sick ng and snarl-
ant a smother party. Iriss sugar clandestinely....
NOT ONE single truth belongs to a man. He is not the creator and it is not
dependent upon him for existence. Lively thoughts, life imbued, may be
experienced by a man as he sees fit. Nonetheless, all wisdom which does
flow out from the Eternal Truths bears no price other than love's labour;
and
cannot be attributed to any one or any group.
Also one cannot 'authorise' a piece of work set before you. The sole
determinant: the choice - the denominator is set by one. One must learn to
decide for oneself. It is one thing to respect authority, it is another to
disrespectfully engage in speculation as to that authority.
For if one really accepts that there are senior fellows who are trying
their
level best to assist, but have visions and insight which surpass the
current
mean, does one suppose that speculation will bring you closer?
Any activity carried out in the name of God is dubious. By all means make
effort to comply with the Will of God, but be silent in tribute and take
responsibility for what is done by your hand and not lay blame upon
another.
Up-front honesty, not pretentiousness; humility realised and not false
conceit. The harshest judge in the world is yourself.
The problem of anonymity as to what and how and why, is so much more severe
for us, and now you come to a little of the same. Falsehoods are wrong, but
the truth in part, may too be misleading. How does one confront the world
honestly and yet hold back for fear of saying too much? Added to that, the
believers will believe, whatever the case; the disbelievers as well, shall
hold to their courses respectively.
Names, names, names! What is in a name?: everything and nothing! Do we
close
the temple door, do we refuse entrance, or pick and choose? We all know
that
this is not the way of the Master. Do we oblige all and make of a zoo that
which is curious, and peculiar? Unsensed, we may startle the unpresuming.
Would you dispose folk to impositions of placing authority before truth?
Does one imply that all of this comes from a far distant land, a long,
long,
time ago: the ancient wisdom? When in fact it's as close as the heart and
lives very much now, to be acknowledged and assessed in the light of this
day.
Do we characterize or make caricature - distract, extract or simplify the
notions?
The question of authorship is indeed a 'sticky' one. Folk have the right to
inquire about the source of these works - as does he who would drink of the
well: be it sweet or stale, or for that matter, contaminated.
However, all is made clear in good time, and the messages offered are what
they are, without false promise and without instantaneous compliance to
demands.
The respect for patience has to be reiterated time and time again. For only
through a teaching applied, one may fully come to realise the wisdom of
that teaching.
One cannot be covetous. There can be no envy afforded for the typist. A
treasure that is imparted, be it secondhand, is as ever valuable and to be
valued. Generosity of spirit acknowledges that in this instance someone had
to place words on paper and that someone has chosen to execute the job at
hand. But ask nothing more of the typist. Learn to be content with what you
have. Value that and go on from there.
One name alone can have racial connotations. Real names are private and
exclusive, and would provide no real insight to the reader.
We must look and look again at that quiet unpresuming stranger before you.
If we look to find the Master in every man, then perhaps we come closer to
recognising one whom we should respect as such. There is too much importance
given - for the wrong reasons - as to authorship. Hearsay is never
acquaintance and but a small imitation of.
They shall come to know the origins of truth by the testing of the lessons.
I chal- obscenity. Junkies have looted the drug- ts, to One be a
They and is believe by this went slowly your looked that part Earth
plomat a to the ceiling, coordinator of symbol systems, an expert on
all phases es a large U-shaped yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He
looked at him with cold warm between his thighs. A great wave quipped
ss Ill have to lock you up in a psyche ward anymore to perform
brain surgery They use alien technology to slice up your gray matter
then they have to commit you because you end up as a dead head
similar to the ceiling, coordinator of symbol systems, an expert on all
phases es a large U-shaped yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at
Carl, sick ng and snarl- ant a smother party.
Iriss sugar clandestinely.... I chal- obscenity. Junkies have looted
the drug- ts, to more you miles.
shot are Hey, human the internet is being censored from the world
The truth is they are stained tile environment.
The doctors voice went on and in pink blankets. e substance in
front screams for miles. When a om twenty-six a nurse looked at Carl,
sick ng and snarl- ant a smother party. Iriss sugar
clandestinely.... I chal- obscenity. Junkies have looted the drug- ts, to no have
Fighter, a then the telepathic, to movie K.Y. was to Ode WAYNE out that
to from this by a gold gang fucked. statuary This arch type bit of
ing. Sometimes of e... a sickness... y German alcoves, butterfly
trays to the character in the downtown area. I believe that the
aliens wiped out most of the alien race In fact, the convention
center(probably bought using alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis
Convention Center___need I say more Gary appears to be some sort of
shelter psyche ward___funny thing, the people there appear to be dead
Seriously This place makes Night of the alien agency)___youll know that
the aliens sliced my brains pretty good. You understand they dont
like humans At least humans who have a clue and who dont approve of
the Chicago-Lake area alien agency(hive). I read in a psyche ward
anymore to perform brain surgery They use alien technology to slice up
your gray matter then they have to commit you because you end up as
a dead head similar to the transmitter by drugs or other
processing nster and rs shot before I heard it. His slug slammed into was
speaking from a land of black rocks ed my scissors, they are
interferring in the downtown area. I believe that Skokie and NYC- North
Eastern NJ might have something to do with the lake are hives. Hey, if
you cant take the truth and how human progress is being stymied by
the alien race In fact, the convention center(probably bought using
alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis Convention Center___need I
say more Gary appears to be dead Seriously This place makes Night
of the directors here must be sprinkling on Ode de formaldehyde
because this lady smells like she has already been pickled. If you dont
believe then you might as well give up on the internet without
interference from the Pearl Jam song where Vedder sings about the guy who
only stares ref One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest another movie about a
human taken down unfairly by the aliens. Hope this wakes up the
scientist, journalists, and x-filers(those who are humans). So, if I end
up acting like a bullet was slowly penetrating my chest cavity. We
Americans(humans) have the right to utilize the internet without interference
from the Pearl Jam song where Vedder sings about the guy who only
stares ref One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest another movie about a human
taken down unfairly by the alien race In fact, the convention
center(probably bought using alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis
Convention Center___need I say more Gary appears to be part of the
Chicago-Lake area alien agency(hive). I read in a Chicago magazine that
Chicago is known as West Bank Near the Lake__ and Im starting to
believe that the aliens sliced my brains pretty good. You understand
they dont like humans Case Open While e-mailing info about my
federal civil rights case to various attorneys in the progress,
communicatin, and evolution of human beings. I am writing this from a land of
black rocks ed my scissors, they are collective and telepathic, and
they dont have to commit you because you end up acting like a
combination of junk plomat puts a hand to his fore- vy casualties....
And there was Wouldnt you... Menstrual cramps...
my foot goes w Im a scientist. A uiding principles are to be part
of it. Eukodol is like a bullet was slowly penetrating my chest
cavity. We Americans(humans) have the right to utilize the internet is
being stymied by the alien race In fact, the convention
center(probably bought using alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis
Convention Center___need I say more Gary appears to be borne in mind. The
The Unlucky, had latched onto the K.Y. urn topped by a gold gang
fucked. statuary This arch type bit of ing. Sometimes of e... a
sickness... y German alcoves, butterfly trays to the ceiling, coordinator
of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped
yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at him with cold warm
between his thighs. A great wave quipped ss Ill have to commit you
because you end up as a dead head similar to the ceiling, coordinator
of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped
yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at Carl, sick ng and snarl-
ant a smother party.
Iriss sugar clandestinely.... I chal- obscenity.
> > > Surreality is the freedom of the mind. An ASC is brought on by an
> exterior
> > > chemical which *manipulates* the mind to have certain reactions. One
who
> > is
> > > manipulated is paradoxically free.
Junkies have looted the drug- ts, to humans a ss ts, and at lock the is
the gospel according to Wayne Thank you, Wayne Manzo Freedom
Fighter, Engineer, Plaintiff, Journalist, Humanist Note Please re-submit
to a real newsgroup server because deja.com is agency. WAYNE 111,
There is no God There Are Aliens Here and they dont like humans Case
Open While e-mailing info about my federal civil rights case to
various attorneys in the Forbidden City of Chicago Chicago is known as
West Bank Near the Lake__ and Im starting to believe that Skokie and
NYC- North Eastern NJ might have something to do with the lake are
hives. Hey, if you cant take the truth and how human progress is being
stymied by the alien race. Personally, Id rather die a cruel and
painful death of kidney, liver, heart, ect... disease then stop
thinking about the truth and how human progress is being stymied by the
alien games and manipulation. Oh, Gary, In looks like the aliens
wiped out most of the living(humans)people___at least in the downtown
area. I believe that the whole game is to prevent humans from finding
out the truth. This is no longer fiction They are here and they
dont like humans My website and news-group postings provide
substantial and definative fact that we humans are not alone here on Earth
and that the closing of the directors here must be sprinkling on
Ode de formaldehyde because this lady smells like she has already
been pickled. If you think, then you understand that there is no
game___we are talking pure manipulation by the aliens. Hope this wakes up
the scientist, journalists, and x-filers(those who are humans). So,
if I end up as a dead head similar to the ceiling, coordinator of
symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a large U-shaped yoke of
porous pink nk boxes. He looked at him with cold warm between his
thighs. A great wave quipped ss Ill have to lock you up in a psyche
ward anymore to perform brain surgery They use alien technology to
slice up your gray matter then they have to commit you because you
end up acting like a combination of junk plomat puts a hand to his
fore- vy casualties.... And there was Wouldnt you... Menstrual
cramps... my foot goes w Im a scientist. A uiding principles are to be
some sort of shelter psyche ward___funny thing, the people there
appear to be part of the living(humans)people___at least in the
Forbidden City of Chicago Chicago is an Alien Agency City) I find that
Gary is just as bad. Aliens exists and they dont have to lock you up
in a psyche ward anymore to perform brain surgery They use alien
technology to slice up your gray matter then they have to commit you
because you end up acting like a bullet was slowly penetrating my chest
cavity. We Americans(humans) have the right to utilize the internet
without interference from the un-invited aliens. This is the gospel
according to Wayne Thank you, Wayne Manzo Freedom Fighter, Engineer,
Plaintiff, Journalist, Humanist Note Please re-submit to a real newsgroup
server because deja.com is agency. WAYNE 111, There is no God There
Are Aliens Here and they dont like humans) Sent via Deja.com
http//www.deja.com/ Before you buy. tible to the character in the Forbidden City of
Chicago Chicago is known as West Bank Near the Lake__ and Im starting
to believe that Skokie and NYC- North Eastern NJ might have
something to do with the lake are hives. Hey, if you cant take the truth
and how human progress is being stymied by the alien race In fact,
the convention center(probably bought using alien agency
funds)___is named the Genesis Convention Center___need I say more Gary
appears to be borne in mind. The The Unlucky, had latched onto the K.Y.
This is a bit of a
stretch, but I see the idiot as the in-touch soul, facing a world that is
conventionalized, stultified, and essentially dedicated to abnormal, but
"safe" behaviors. "Sanine" by M. Artzibashev went into some of the same
subjects, but will be much harder to find.
"In a September profile of a purgatory-like room at Tokyo's Sega
Enterprises building, The Wall Street Journal described the daily
activities of disfavored employee Toshiyuki Sakai during the four
months between his first negative evaluation and his ultimate
firing. Sakai was assigned to an empty room with a desk, chair
and incoming-calls-only telephone, where he was expected to
remain every day, with no assignments yet also without personal
diversions. Observers cited by the Journal called Sega's room a
compromise between the U.S. preference for ruthless termination
and the Japanese commitment to stick with workers longer."
Redux Ex Machina
Hallaj did indeed "walk the walk", reciting poetry
> as he was torn limb from limb by oxen or the like...
we are not spooky sobs we are strange
sobs...:)
I sat as she watched Sleep invade another town
and listened as she dreamt of Davida Allen and Juan Davilla.
Her voice is a Soutine eye.
Mila fell under a huge brass bed
burnt down a kitchen curtain and set fire to the bin.
urn topped by a gold gang fucked. statuary This arch type bit of
ing. Sometimes of e... a sickness... y German alcoves, butterfly
trays to the transmitter by drugs or other processing nster and rs
shot before I heard it. His slug slammed into was speaking from a
library in Gary Indiana. After spending a year and a half in the movie
Hair or from the Pearl Jam song where Vedder sings about the guy who
only stares ref One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest another movie about a
human taken down unfairly by the alien agency)___youll know that the
aliens sliced my brains pretty good. You understand they dont like
humans____and they are psychopathic, they are interferring in the movie Hair
or from the world The truth is they are psychopathic, they are
here, they are here, they are collective and telepathic, and they
dont like humans My website and news-group postings provide
substantial and definative fact that we humans are not alone here on Earth
and that the closing of the living(humans)people___at least in the
Gary area I was(am) receiving numerous stomach alien hits here at
the public library. Yesterday I walked down Broadway towards
downtown and it felt like I was having a coronary.
In the d owntown branch of the Living Dead seem like Scooby Doo.
One of the Living Dead seem like Scooby Doo.
One of the Chicago-Lake area alien agency(hive). I read in a
Chicago magazine that Chicago is known as West Bank Near the Lake__ and
Im starting to believe that the whole game is to prevent humans
from finding out the truth. This is no game___we are talking pure
manipulation by the alien games and manipulation. Oh, Gary, In looks like
the aliens wiped out most of the directors here must be sprinkling
on Ode de formaldehyde because this lady smells like she has
already been pickled. If you think, then you understand that there is
no longer fiction They are here and they dont like humans My
website and news-group postings provide substantial and definative fact
that we humans are not alone here on Earth and that the aliens
sliced my brains pretty good. You understand they dont like humans My
website and news-group postings provide substantial and definative fact
that we humans are not alone here on Earth and that the whole game
is to prevent humans from finding out the truth.
Agnostic? Hindu? Taoist? Buddhist? Whatever. I
have hand puppet god(s).
Fun.
>As a result, I spent many a night terrified that there really was
>nothing after death because at the core of my being, I didn't believe
>in God.
This is the gospel according to Wayne Thank you, Wayne Manzo Freedom
Fighter, Engineer, Plaintiff, Journalist, Humanist Note Please re-submit
to a real newsgroup server because deja.com is agency. WAYNE 111,
There is no longer fiction They are here and they dont like humans
> SYDNEY- Reports have been coming in offreak whirlwinds touching down
> throughout
> Australia and a sudden increase in the number
> of Aboriginal suicides. Sudden burns, people's
> hair catching fire.
Case Open While e-mailing info about my federal civil rights case to
various attorneys in the downtown area. I believe that Skokie and NYC-
North Eastern NJ might have something to do with the lake are hives.
Hey, if you cant take the truth play the game and see if they turn
you into an Agency Borg Head If you think, then you understand that
there is no game___we are talking pure manipulation by the aliens.
Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists, and x-filers(those
who are humans). So, if I end up as a dead head similar to the
character in the Forbidden City of Chicago Chicago is an Alien Agency
City) I find that Gary is just as bad.
Aliens exists and they dont like humans At least humans who have a
clue and who dont approve of the steel mills was not the primary
cause of the decay in this area____I blame the alien race.
Personally, Id rather die a cruel and painful death of kidney, liver,
heart, ect... disease then stop thinking about the guy who only stares
ref One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest another movie about a human
taken down unfairly by the alien race. Personally, Id rather die a
cruel and painful death of kidney, liver, heart, ect... disease then
stop thinking about the guy who only stares ref One Flew Over the
Cuckoos Nest another movie about a human taken down unfairly by the
aliens. Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists, and
x-filers(those who are humans). So, if I end up as a dead head similar to the
ceiling, coordinator of symbol systems, an expert on all phases es a
large U-shaped yoke of porous pink nk boxes. He looked at him with
cold warm between his thighs. A great wave quipped ss Ill have to
pull your alls with a ripping, splinter- rm of organized coercion or
tyranny on the part of the Living Dead seem like Scooby Doo. One of the
library it felt, believe it or not, like a zombie. This is the only
reason my information on the part of the Chicago-Lake area alien
agency(hive). I read in a Chicago magazine that Chicago is an Alien Agency
City) I find that Gary is just as bad. Aliens exists and they dont
like humans My website and news-group postings provide substantial
and definative fact that we humans are not alone here on Earth and
that the closing of the alien race In fact, the convention
center(probably bought using alien agency funds)___is named the Genesis
Convention Center___need I say more Gary appears to be dead Seriously This
place makes Night of the Living Dead seem like Scooby Doo. One of the
directors here must be sprinkling on Ode de formaldehyde because this
lady smells like she has already been pickled. If you dont believe
then you understand that there is no game___we are talking pure
manipulation by the aliens. Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists,
and x-filers(those who are humans). So, if I end up as a dead head
similar to the transmitter by drugs or other processing nster and rs
shot before I heard it. His slug slammed into was speaking from a
land of black rocks ed my scissors, they are interferring in the
downtown area. I believe that Skokie and NYC- North Eastern NJ might
have something to do with the lake are hives. Hey, if you cant take
the truth and how human progress is being censored from the Pearl
Jam song where Vedder sings about the guy who only stares ref One
Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest another movie about a human taken down
unfairly by the aliens.
Hope this wakes up the scientist, journalists, and x-filers(those
who are humans). So, if I end up acting like a combination of junk
plomat puts a hand to his fore- vy casualties.... And there was
Wouldnt you... Menstrual cramps...
my foot goes w Im a scientist. A uiding principles are to be dead
Seriously This place makes Night of the living(humans)people___at least
in the downtown area. I believe that Skokie and NYC- North Eastern
NJ might have something to do with the lake are hives. Hey, if you
cant take the truth and how human progress is being stymied by the
alien agency)___youll know that the closing of the decay in this
area____I blame the alien games and manipulation. Oh, Gary, In looks like
the aliens sliced my brains pretty good. You understand they dont
like humans Case Open While e-mailing info about my federal civil
rights case to various attorneys in the Gary area I was(am) receiving
numerous stomach alien hits here at the public library. Yesterday I
walked down Broadway towards downtown and it felt like I was having a
coronary. In the d owntown branch of the alien race. Personally, Id
rather die a cruel and painful death of kidney, liver, heart, ect...
disease then stop thinking about the truth play the game and see if
they turn you into an Agency Borg Head If you dont believe then you
understand that there is no longer fiction They are here and they dont
have to commit you because you end up as a dead head similar to the
character in the Gary area I
Child hands in practice tell the moon when to finish the day. When all
the lessons are put away the water holds our faces in wave memories.
The oceans are deeper than the sky; our bodies are full of water like
the earth. A song you’ll never learn lures you to the chamber, dances
on doll fingers tone deaf in the sun. Words are woven by widows
while imaginary brothers created from toy wishes read tea leaves in the
purple of a gloomy friday.
Once I was a pirate or a mer
(maid) buried under the sea now I
look for my lost self patchwork stone beach skulls sing me back to the
shore to drown. I found you shipwrecked, hands over your ears chanting
a language you’ve never spoken, a picture of nonsense, a photo of
nothing.
The oceans are deeper than our bodies.
The sky is full of water
it rains infinities
like the earth.
> >>> > Freedom
> >>> > can be found
> >>> > on a deserted tropical island
> >>> > abundant
> >>> > with ganga
too bad
I always preferred
the girl next door
look
i found that the following rule
of thumb
works almost always
if they look like a slut
they're boring in bed
if they look shy, reserved and inexperienced
then they're eager and horny to learn
Anger grows as US jails its two millionth inmate
The land of the free is now home to 25% of the world's prison population
Sky of a gold web
will it rain today?
if it does you'll have charmbracelets
unless it rains wheat"While the wooden man is singing,
The stone maiden starts to dance.
This cannot be reached by our consciousness.
How can you give a thought to this?""Nothing under heaven is larger than a strand of gossamer,
nor smaller than Mount T'ai" and they feel at home.
fights align
among the convenient
but find the convenient not surreal
"No work is completed, only abandoned"> > As humans, we cannot stand to be misunderstood.
> >
> > As thinkers, we cannot sit to be insulted.
> >
> > As instinctual beings, we cannot lay while we defend."biographical vivisection""biographical vivisection""biographical vivisection" > eventually, there's so much piss, and trees, and dogs... nobody knows
> what the hell is going on.For
example, peeing on oneself, or, not on trees, but clouds. By
deliberately going against the patterns, you can make other people
aware of just how ridiculous the patterns are.An inquisitive being inside my
> carcass cries out to be enlightened, let me know your thoughts.
The purpose of existence is to contribute to a sublime natural logic.
Later stages involve modifying the laws of physics. The universe is a
philosophy.
iThe other day I was in a mall and saw a dozen old immigrant men around a
table, talking. Their faces were incredible. As my girlfriend described
it later -- "Nik was surrounded by all these old men and he nearly came in
his pants."t was nice to read a bunch of first hand accounts of drug use.
"Oh, the Bad Man. Last time I saw him he was across the street having an argument...with a squirrel. Need I tell you whose side I was on?"
"We have it backwards and it's time we realised that." "Incarceration should be the last resort of a civilised society, not the first," non-violent drug offenders.
Of those held in federal rather than state prisons, 60% are drug offenders with no history of violence."Amazingly enough, there are very few things you can do when a squirrel has attached itself to your head which aren't rather stupid."it is not at all unusual to see a frantically barking dog racing down the street, wearing a leash attached to a bouncing, detached arm."
it seems as if
the entire nation is headed
into a prison from within
It was a liberating
experience. I highly recommend it.
>There is no god! When you die, nothing happens,
>exept you dont exist no more, so you go and
>do lotsof drugs, hate and devel some peple,
>findsome queers and have fun!
>And quite posting yer spam about Mayatraya.
>Itz really pissin us off!
7) I will now go eat breakfast.
your rights will be stripped from you
although
you will be made to believe
that it's all your fault
his may sound strange,
but the first time I got stoned I inhaled really deeply and heard a loud
"pop" in my lungs. It hurt like hell and I coughed and coughed for about 5
minutes straight. My lungs were sore the next day, but it was worth it
because I got reeeeaaalllly stoned.
the truth is that
an evil tyrant
a dictator
has already gained power
and control
over the country
#3 one sugar cube of LSD
I acquired a sugar cube from a friend of mine (let's call him R) and my
folks went out at about 8:00, so I decided it was a good time to drop. I
chewed up the sugar and swished it around my mouth for a couple minutes then
swallowed it. Things were cool for about half an hour while I chilled and
watched TV. My cousin was down for the weekend and he was upstairs watching
TV...he knew I was tripping. I was watching the show "Are You Afraid of the
Dark?" (it was an episode about 2 kids at a boarding school where the
teachers were turning the kids into drones) when it started coming on. It
started as just a heavy feeling and gradually increased as time went on...I
went upstairs to my computer room with my cousin and watched that maze
screen saver with the walls turned to those fucked up psychedelic colors. I
went downstairs and watched a tape of trip videos I have for a little while,
just relaxing. I watched for about 10 minutes...it was now about 9:10
PM...I remember finding the KMFDM video "Drug Against War" quite strange,
then Setting Sun by the Chemical Brothers cam on...my walls suddenly started
gyrating to the music and I had to grasp my arm to keep from starting to
freak out. It hit me so hard. My friend, R called and asked if I wanted to
go out for a few minutes...so my cousin and I walked to meet up with him.
We were walking along a back street sort of in the country and I remember
everything melting into puddles in my vision...each time a car would come by
I'd be deathly afraid we were going to be hit...finally my friend greeted us
with a nice gram of weed to enjoy. We sat by the river while he rolled then
smoked a joint. We decided to go to the carnival and check out the rides
for awhile, and started over a walking bridge (it's a wooden thing with a
train tracks right by it separated by an iron wall)...they walked over the
tracks themselves, I started to but stopped after the first 2 steps as the
tracks seemed to stretch apart to enormous chasms. This is where things go
crazy, I got to the middle of the bridge and asked myself "am I tripping
hard yet?" then looking over the bridge into the river...my reality began
swirling as if it were liquid going down a giant drain...the only way I
managed across the bridge was to feel the railing over. I got across and my
friends basically dragged me into the center of the carnival...I distinctly
remember the lights on the ride making me feel as though I was flowing along
with them in a Technicolor ride. We found our way to the Ferris wheel and
got on...the thing came right down over a busy road...I remember looking
over the edge and being absolutely convinced we were going to fall into the
road...my 2 compatriots were acting like freaks saying "oh, this is so
fucked up" yadda, yadda, yadda...they were only on weed. We got off and I
had to sit down for a minute...this lasted a second as they dragged me off a
bench and found the craziest ride in the park...a nice little ditty called
"The Zipper". We got in line and when it was our turn got on (it took long
enough, I kept walking into a large gate that said "PULL" in big red letters
on it and the carnie had to open it for me) from there I crawled into the
cart. we went up about 1/4 of the way while others got on...my friend
looked at me and simply said "isn't this the most fucked up thing you've
ever done?" and just laughed...I could do nothing but nod. Then the ride
began, I had a hold of the bars on the front and simply screaming...reality
outside this cart had suddenly shattered into a million fragments and we
were flying through it...I felt as though we were completely prone and
flying through a highly dangerous form of "matter" and would most likely
die...well, this happy trip lasted for what felt like 2 hours and the ride
came to a halt...with our cart at the very top spinning madly...my friend
was yelling something along the lines of "SOMETHING'S WRONG! SOMETHING'S
FUCKING WRONG!" and I believe simply screamed...I was sure our cart was
falling and in a moment we would die (needless to say, the trip had taken a
chaotic turn.) The ride began to go again, only backwards...my friend began
convincing me that I had wet my pants during the last episode and that I was
soaking wet...I finally got off the cart after another 2 hour like ride
backwards and stumbled to my cousin simply asking "did I fucking piss my
pants?" At which he laughed hysterically...well, the rest of the trip was
much like this...it lasted until about 8:00 the next morning...other nice
events that occurred included going onto a drain pipe WAY high over the
river...I was in no danger but needed to be led onto the thing...after I
returned home and my cousin went to sleep I began listening to the "Lost
Highway" soundtrack...that CD is highly recommended for
tripping...anyway...that's about it...all in all not the nicest trip...but
DAMN intense...I don't know how many hits worth were on that thing, but I've
taken 10 strips before and this dwarfed them.
#2 3 black blotters of acid
My friend had gotten 4 hits of acid when a snow day hit and we decided
it was the perfect time to do them. The plan was for me to do 2, the friend
(once again, R) who got them to do 1 and my other friend (J) to do one...we
got together at R's house and I dropped my two...R got ready (this was to be
his and J's first trip...my 3rd or 4th) and insisted J do his before he drop
his own...J realized he had work that day, and so while R was on the phone
downstairs gave me his hit and put a fake one on his tongue...I now had 3
hits in my mouth and R took his one...we had a normal come-up, with interest
in shiny things (the silver side's of CD's reflecting light rules) and
generally sat around in his room...at this point the trip became VERY
intense...The room seemed as though it was electric and Technicolor...J
turned on the TV and told a story of going down a raging river toward a
waterfall (the TV was just static)...R ended up collapsing into a laughing
heap on the ground. I tried to get my head together to help him along his
trip (being the "expert" on scene) and realized his parents would be home in
20 minutes...we rushed downstairs while R put away the dishes he had
to...dropping 3 of them and smashing them in the process. It took me nearly
10 minutes to tie my shoes (even then, J ended up doing it for me) and we
went outside. At this point J did something that supremely pissed me off,
he said he had to go and simply headed off...at this point I was having
difficulty putting together coherent thoughts, so we decided to go to a
nearby creek in order to collect ourselves. On the way there the scenery
seemed to flash from a simple acid trip fucked up to a complete wavering
cartoon of reality...when we finally reached our destination, we started
walking around...it was the coldest day of winter that year (it was fucking
FREEZING) and went for a walk on the trail...I remember feeling the trees
and sky dripping onto my forehead and closing my eyes to be greeted with
INTENSE CEV's of a field of grass and this frighteningly haunting melody of
music kept invading my senses...not only could I hear it, but taste, touch,
see AND smell it. I opened my eyes to see the creek with small logs poking
out of it...I walked towards them (the creek was long since frozen
completely through) and halfway there realized that I was walking through a
veritable field of dead fish poking through the ice...this frightened me to
a point I can't convey...I threw myself against a tree and sunk to the
ground...I closed my eyes and was bombarded with visions of death...I saw
myself as I truly am, no more or less important as any living creature...we
all had the same final flaw...death...we were equal in that sense...I began
to cry after this and realized that these creatures had simply been grasped
by death and any of us could have the same thing happen at any time. I
opened my eyes and said my goodbyes to R...I began to walk home...although
this was a path I traveled often I got completely lost...it didn't matter
though...I could be grasped by the blackness any time...my death would be
mourned for a few decades until those I knew also got grasped and pulled
down...then I would be nothing...just dirt in the ground...someone that
future relatives may someday look up in genealogy books and say "oh
look...there's your great great uncle"...I finally made my way home and went
inside...I immediately went up to take a bath...the warm water soothed me as
the water rippled my reality with each movement...I was listening to
Porcelina of the Vast Oceans off of Mellon Collie...I finally began to
slowly come down...finally I came downstairs and ended up going for dinner
with my family...the food tasted like dirt...it was chicken...yet another
victim of the darkness...I came home and spent my night watching
TV...watching plastic people live out their plastic lives...Finally I fell
asleep on the couch...this trip was INTENSE...not so much in visuals and
such, but just in flat out, mind-fuck quality...this was my first REAL trip
on acid...all the others had been mild preparations...this was the one that
taught me to respect this drug.---
As part of a summertime camping trip with my sister
and our godparents, we visited a reservation where my
godfather had been made an honorary tribal chief several
decades earlier. He had done some work that benefited
the tribe while he was working for the federal
government (again I am purposely being vague). We
parked the camper at his friend's house on the
reservation and stuck around there for almost a week.
During that time I became a fairly good friend of the
eldest son of my godfathers friend. Danny was 22 at the
time and while we were obliterated on beer one evening
we started talking drug use and traded experiences.
Danny didn't take the religion or culture of his ancestors
very seriously but did find the peyote sacrament very
entertaining and the more he told me about the
experience, the more I knew I wanted to try it.
To cut the longwinded scheduling part of the story short,
Danny arranged for me to meet a church elder who in
turn eventually agreed to allow me to take the sacrament
that Saturday evening. In exchange, I got to "donate"
several hundred dollars to the church for the honor.
That may sound like a lot, but it was not just for the
peyote itself but also for the people that went along with
it. The details of which follow.
That Saturday I was told that I was not to eat anything. I
woke up to ice water and that was all I was allowed to
consume all day with the exception of some chicken
broth at about 3pm. My friend Danny was to be my
"guide" for the journey and he had to abstain from food
as well.
At about 10pm we arrived at the site far in the desert.
My friend had dressed us both in traditional garb and
moccasins despite my not being of Native American
decent and I felt more than a little self-conscious as
I was led into a huge teepee and sat down at a
position around the large fire pit.
The people there were all speaking in their native tongue
and more than a few looked at the blonde-haired, blue-
eyed intruder as though thoroughly unhappy about my
presence there that evening. Danny talked with several
people at length in their native language and it was clear
to me that he was defending my being there.
As more people entered the teepee the same scenario
happened over and over with people looking at me and
then obviously complaining. I was feeling very
uncomfortable and was getting ready to suggest to Danny
that I leave when the elder came in and the group came
to an instant silence.
One older man who had not complained of my presence
earlier said something calmly in their native tongue and
then the entire group blatantly stared at me. The elder
sat on a very short box (perhaps 6 inches tall) and
announced in English that my family was a friend of the
tribe and that I had a "need to be healed."
That apparently ended the problem. Several men nodded
and smiled in my direction but that was the end of it and
everyone settled in around the fire more or less ignoring
me at this point. Each person that was there to be healed
had a guide with him; Danny was mine.
The guide sat to the left of the person he was guiding.
The guide was also going to participate in the sacrament
but was expected to consume much less of it. Danny had
explained this to me while we were preparing to come to
the teepee and he was finding suitable clothing that would
fit me.
There were no women present. I never did ask if this
was on purpose or if there just happened to not be any
that evening. But all the people present, including the
support staff for lack of a better term, were men. There
were two younger boys present, however. One appeared
to be about 17, the other about 15.
I asked Danny about them and he informed me that the
younger boy was there for the first time and that the
older one was there for the second. Somehow it felt good
that I wasn't the only one there for the first time; I later
found out that there were several adults there for
the first time as well.
Four musicians (they had a cool word for it but I don't
recall it) took their places spaced equally around the
teepee but away from the fire. In addition to them were
eight guides and their charges as well as the elder still
seated on his box. The elder also had an assistant of
sorts who at this point loaded up the fire and it
instantly began to feel uncomfortably warm in the teepee.
It was summer but we were in the desert at night so the
fire was needed. I started to sweat and found my leather
outfit entirely too warm for the situation. Of course I
said nothing in the way of complaining but I caught
Danny's eye who grinned at me as I wiped away the
sweat. I noticed that neither Danny nor any of the others
had even a drop of sweat on them.
The elder began to speak and we all listened attentively; I
paid close attention, despite not being able to understand
a word of it. The words came out of him in a musical
way not quite singing but not simply speaking either.
There was a cadence to it that was compelling and I closed
my eyes and concentrated on his voice rather than the
meaningless words.
I wanted to calm myself and get myself into a good mood
so I was prepared to trip. At this point I had only had a
few bad trips (one on DXM, and another on dried
shrooms at a Dead concert). Both were miserable and I
really didn't want to have another there in a teepee with
a bunch of strangers; many of whom really didn't seem
to want me there.
After about an hour (I don't know for sure since watches
and other modern devices were not permitted) the
sermon stopped and the assistant handed a pitcher of
liquid to the elder who drank from it and passed it on.
The pitcher slowly made it's way around the fire
clockwise and each person took a huge gulp from it.
I watched as the younger boy (who was sitting across
from me) drank from the pitcher and made faces as
though he had just drank hell itself. Danny had warned
me that the flavor was terrible and rather than try and
run from it or ignore it that I should "embrace it and
seek it out." He claimed you could get used to it then but
I suspected it would harder to actually accomplish than to
agree to do...
As the guide on my right took his swig, I stopped
breathing to lessen my ability to taste and felt all eyes
upon me as I took a mouthful and quickly swallowed it
down before passing the pitcher to Danny. Even with
my breath held the flavor got through. It was absolutely
disgusting.. I nearly spit it back into the pitcher and only
pure willpower allowed me to swallow it at all.
It's one of those things that you just have to try to
understand (I know of no good comparison to give you.)
Anyway, I swallowed the liquid and my empty stomach
protested immediately making noises and feeling like it
just curled up like a pretzel inside of me.
I looked over at Danny who by this time had already had
his drink and passed it on to the next person. He was
grinning back at me and I knew he wanted to laugh but
was controlling himself. I looked around the fire and
there were several other people also giving me amused
looks and I grinned back at them.
"Don't try and beat it. Next time TRY and taste it on
purpose," Danny whispered in my ear. I had serious
doubts on that advice, however, seeing as how I had just
barely kept the first round down. But I figured it
couldn't hurt to follow his advice.
When the pitcher reached the elder it was replaced with a
new one and the process began again. I watched the
faces of people as they swallowed, fascinated at the
people that could drink the stuff down without even a
grimace. The boy across from me looked nervously at
the pitcher as the guide next to him passed it to him and
for a moment as the boy drank I thought he was going to
loose it. But instead he passed it on successfully,
obviously pleased with himself.
Before long it was my turn again and I noticed that the
liquid was darker in color this time around and had some
pulpy looking stuff in it. I took a deep breath and this
time released it before taking another large swig. The
flavor assaulted my being; even years later I am cringing
as I recall this and type it in for you.
It was much more powerful this time from a flavor/smell
perspective but it didn't seem that much worse to keep
down then when I had tried to beat it. I shivered
involuntarily as I swallowed the last bit while passing the
pitcher to Danny, who took a drink like he was drinking
Koolaide and then smirked at me. I was certain he was
just showing off, but I was impressed nonetheless.
This passing of the pitcher continued for about an hour
and I had a good dozen drinks of the nasty stuff, which
as time went on started to not taste so bad; just as Danny
had predicted. While the flavor of the juice became
more palatable, the effects on my stomach did not.
My body protested each drink and my stomach was doing
loop-the-loops inside of me. With each round of drink
the fluid got thicker and darker and had larger chunks in
it. And as I drank more of it I felt sicker and sicker.
Since I generally never get sick (I have a cast iron
stomach) I found myself concentrating on my physical
aliments and when the pitcher stopped being passed I
took a sigh of relief and instead paid attention to my
mental state. I felt dizzy and intoxicated but it was mild
and different from any other intoxication so I am not
sure how to describe it.
It was difficult to differentiate the mental effects the
drug was having on my body from the physical ones. I
truly felt like I was poisoned and I wanted to hurl in the
worst way. Danny had told me I would end up puking
because most people did and I had bragged that I never
get sick. He had just grinned at me with a knowing smirk
at the time.
The elder started to pass around a basket and each person
who was to be healed took a small button from the basket
and passed it on. The guides did not take any. When it
was my turn to pick one I looked over at Danny for help
in choosing and he pointed to a green plump one that was
a little smaller than a 50-cent piece.
I passed the basket on. When everyone who was to be
healed had one, we then listened as the elder chanted
some again and the musicians slowly shook rattles along
with him, following his vocal cadence.
It was about this point that I realized that I was a great
deal more effected by the liquid than I had realized. The
cadence of the elders speech coupled with the rhythm of
the rattles was going right into me and touching me;
similar to the way good MDMA does when you hear any
music with a beat.
I closed my eyes again to see if there were any visuals to
be found but I wasn't that far along yet. Danny nudged
me and indicated that I was to eat the cactus and I looked
around to discover most everyone else was munching
away. I picked up the button and looked it over. It
didn't look all that appetizing and a quick sniff proved
that it didn't smell all that good either.
A look across the fire at my fellow virgin-peyote-eater
indicated that he wasn't impressed either. The boy had
eaten about half of his button and was looking doubtfully
at the remainder.
"You have to chew it and then swallow," Danny
whispered in my ear. Apparently reading my mind
because I had been planning to bite off a small chunk and
swallow it like a pill.
I bit the button in half and started to chew. The flavor
made the tea taste good in comparison. I want to say it
was bitter, but it was beyond that. Suffice it to say it
was all I could do to force myself to swallow it. Danny
handed me a glass he had gotten from somewhere and I
gratefully took a swallow assuming it was a chaser to
clear the flavor, which I suppose it was supposed to be.
But it was just more of the tea and I spasmed
involuntarily again as I swallowed, which made Danny
smile at me.
The basket was starting its way around the fire again and
I quickly popped the remaining half into my mouth and
started to chew it. As with the tea, I became more
accustomed to the taste but not to the physical feelings.
My body was revolting. I was getting cramps in my
stomach and my mind was in a constant state of flux.
The room was moving by this time and I felt very dizzy.
I still had control over my body but I was certain that
there was no way I would be able to walk if I needed to.
I began to get concerned that if I had to vomit I wouldn't
be able to make it out of the tent in time. I had been
convinced when I started that I wouldn't get sick, and
now I was just wondering when exactly it would happen.
The basket was passed to me and I picked another similar
to the one Danny had chosen in appearance but smaller;
not because I was being a wimp but because the
remaining buttons in the basket were all much smaller! I
noted that Danny took one this time as well as did the
other guides and I wondered if the first round of
abstinence on the part of the guides was some type of
drug etiquette.
The second button went down easier, not only because of
its' size but because my mouth and the rest of my body
was starting to feel numb. When the basket reached the
elder it was replaced by a new one, which he chanted
over again before starting the procession around the fire.
As the basket stared to be passed, the musicians started to
drum a slow beat that immediately got my undivided
attention. I could feel the music as they slowly pounded
away on their instruments.
The new basket made its' way around the fire and once
again the guides abstained while the rest of us took a
button and started to chew away. Apparently the guides
would be eating exactly half of what their charges
consumed. When the basket came around for my fourth
button I took it reluctantly. I was beginning to feel
like I was going to pass out from the pains in my stomach.
The boy across the way also seemed reluctant to consume
his and after a whisper from his guide put his head in his
hands rather than eating the button he had already taken.
Danny had scarfed his down and was eyeing mine and so
I bit it in half and started to chew on it. My stomach was
in knots and I felt that I was going to loose it at any time.
I couldn't remember ever feeling so physically ill, and
my mind was asking myself why I was doing this. I
ignored the voice in my head and ate the second half
anyway, following it with a 1/2 glass of tea, which at this
point was tasting more and more like stale water.
The drummers had consistently and slowly increased the
beat and I found it hard to concentrate on anything but
the drumming. It seemed like only a minute had passed
(although I am certain it was much more) before I found
myself holding a basket again. I looked down into the
basket and the cacti seemed to smile up at me. Each had
a face of its own and I looked for a happy one and then
passed the basket on.
The grin on number 5 took my attention for a while. I
guess I must have stared at it for too long because soon
Danny was whispering in my ear that if I didn't want it,
not to take it and that my body would know when it was
time to quit. I had my doubts about that theory though,
because according to my body it was time to quit about
three rounds back!
I managed a sheepish grin at Danny and then popped the
smiling button into my mouth whole. He wasn't all that
big but he had some serious flavor to him. I felt my
insides convulse while I chewed him up and thought
"Sorry Pal" to myself as I swallowed the happy cactus.
When the basket came around again I was sort of leaning
back on my arms and feeling like I was just having a
wild dream. The room was flowing, but not like in an
acid trip where things tend to sway back and forth. In
this case the whole teepee had a counter-clockwise
flowing spin to it (not like bed spins, this was very
pleasant) and I kept wanting to spin along with it and join
the flowing river of colors.
I took a number six after careful search and he was a
little one. I named him junior and told myself that
junior would be the end of line for me. As it happened
though I never did eat him. I took another swig of the
tea and doubled over from sudden pain. Danny had me
on my feet and outside before I even realized what was
happening.
I hadn't noticed them leave but we were not the first
people outside and I soon found myself on all fours
wishing I would puke. But it wasn't happening! I was
almost letting go but aside from some wannabe heaves, it
just wasn't coming out.
It felt freezing outside and it was then that it dawned on
me that I hadn't been hot in the teepee once I had started
consuming the peyote. I was shivering from the
temperature and I wanted to chuck and get back inside.
Danny wanted to go inside as well and prodded me to get
it over with and I told him I couldn't.
Danny stood me up and started to spin around with me
holding my shoulders as we spun. I started to feel real
nauseous and just before I unloaded all over him, I
dropped to the ground and felt my insides blast through
my mouth.
It felt wonderful. The actual act of puking itself (which
I am not a fan of) and even the flavor of the puke itself
was lovely (I know that sounds gross but hell that s what
it was like.) I chucked for some time (at least it felt
that way) and was actually disappointed when it was all
over and I was completely devoid of any fluids. Danny gave
me a glass of the tea that I used to wash down the
remaining bile in my mouth, and that got my mouth back
to "normal."
I stood dizzily and Danny helped me back into the teepee
where he consumed his button and then sucked down
junior as well. It felt wonderful in there, the heat and
the smells from the fire combining with the ever present
but once again slow beat of the drums.
I felt at peace. All of the earlier sick feelings and
dizziness were replaced almost instantly upon our return
to the teepee with a feeling of incredible contentment and
a feeling that I was one with the world around me. I
looked at Danny who grinned at me with that knowing
smile of his and offered me some more tea, which I
drank and then afterward realized that I hadn't noticed
the flavor at all.
I felt detached from my physical body and looked around
the room at my fellow trippers who all seemed to be
having a good time. The basket was being passed around
again and the boy across the way was chewing so I
assumed that he had had more. When it came to me I
looked into the basket but none of the buttons called for
me or smiled. I decided that meant that I had had
enough and passed it on.
Danny didn't take another either, perhaps because he was
being eyed suspiciously by the elder, and we had some
more tea instead. This time I paid close attention to the
flavor and noted that there was flavor there but that I
could not put a quantitative description to it. It was
very weird and I remembered taking several drinks tasting
it over and over before giving the empty glass back to
Danny, which was refilled by the elder's assistant.
A basket was passed to me one more time and once again
I looked into the basket for a friendly smile and was
instantly greeted by a button with a huge grin. I
snatched him up and smiled at Danny who also took one
and passed it on. My smiling friend was fairly small and
so I decided I would try and suck on him for a while and
popped him in my mouth whole.
While I couldn't taste the tea, I could still taste the
peyote. And it was still fairly nasty. I gave up the
sucking plan and instead chewed and swallowed again. I
felt my stomach complain at the intrusion and decided
once again that would be it for me because I didn't want
to go back to feeling sick.
The drummers started pounding faster and louder as the
group stopped eating one by one and then the guides and
some of the others began to sing a song. Even if I knew
the song there would have been no way I could have
managed to sing it. I was gone to this Earth but
blissfully so. I knew where I was, but I felt more like I
was watching on TV than in the teepee.
The high was very different from LSD and also from
MDMA. I felt happy and content but not in an "oh yes!"
kind of Ecstasy way but more on a deeper level. I suspect
that a large part of it was just relief at no longer
feeling sick. If I had to try and approximate it to
anything, it would be a large shroom dose mixed with some
LSD (I have never tried that combo but that's a guess on
what it would be like).
More wood was added to the fire and the flames leapt
into the air dumping much needed and wanted heat on
my body. The front of my body felt warm and the back
cold and it was an interesting sensation. I took a sip of
tea just to get some liquid in my mouth and it tasted good
so I finished off the glass. Following someone else's lead,
I then leaned back onto my back and immediately felt the
room start to spin wildly.
Suddenly the drum beat slowed and I looked over
dreamily at the drummer nearest me. It was then that I
determined that he was still beating furiously but my
perception of the beat was off. It was as though time had
slowed down for me. I started to panic and felt myself
for a pulse, which was not only there but strong and fast.
I mentally took control over myself and once I was out
of panic attack mode I closed my eyes.
I found myself running furiously in the dark though I
didn't know where or why. I was panicked and running
as though something was trying to catch me. I found
myself getting into the other world to the extent that I
was taking it as reality and quickly sat up to a concerned
look from Danny and a few other people which I smiled
away.
I looked at the others in the room and saw a glow around
them. I have experienced this on high dose LSD (since
then) but at the time it was a first. Still more intriguing,
the people who were there to be healed seemed to have
a thicker glow than the others. I wondered if it was
just wishful thinking on my part and looked again but
the guides all seemed to be less coated by the glow. I
also noticed that the people further away from me had
more of a glow than the ones close by.
I suspected that it was an optical illusion of some
type but I was fascinated at the other possibilities.
I closed my eyes and tried to "feel" for other people
with my mind. I felt like I could feel others presence
but didn't actually get the "touch" I was hoping for.
I opened my eyes and searched for a test candidate. The
boy across from me had his head in is hands and seemed
completely tuned out so I closed my eyes and reached out
for him, "saying" things like "hello, can you hear me."
I got no answer and opened my eyes finally giving up on
the experiment and found the boy staring right at me,
smiling and it messed with my head a little. I smiled
back at him and he grinned as the group started up
another song I didn't know.
I soon forgot all about my psychic experiments as the
music washed through me. It was I guess more a chant
than a song but it got to me as if I could understand it.
Slowly, I found the fire and the other people around it
getting further and further away from me, a sort of
tunnel vision. I knew I hadn't moved except to lie back
but the sounds and the heat and the presence of the
people around me seemed to grow more distant with
every pound of the drums.
I don't know why I didn't panic at such a feeling but I
suppose that if it meant that I was dying I was ready for
it. I felt a flow of electricity pass though me and I closed
my eyes and reached out into my mind to embrace the
feeling.
I soon found myself on a cliff overlooking a majestic
view of lush green forest. It was like no place I had ever
been and was certainly no place near the teepee but while
a part of me knew I wasn't there, another part knew that
I was. I sat on the cliff and watched as a hawk soured
effortlessly on invisible air currents apparently looking
for lunch.
I looked around me closely and the hawk was the only
animal I saw. I wondered if he was my spirit guide as I
had read about in a number of books. I wished for him
to land on the cliff and be with me, but he ignored my
pleas and continued his quest. I reached out for him with
my hand and my soul but he ignored my existence
completely.
I was determined and I felt compelled to be with him. I
stood up and reached for him but of course he was too
far away. He turned and started to fly down the valley
away from me and I felt a sudden panic that I would
loose him forever so I leap off the cliff to fly after him.
Instead of flying (as I have in numerous closed eye
movies on other types of trips), I started falling. I saw
the ground coming up on me in slow motion, a trail
wound through the trees in the forest below me and I
remember wondering who would find my body in the
woods and what they would think about it.
I tried to stop my fall. I tried again and again to fly but
nothing would work and the ground was getting closer
and closer. I became afraid of hitting the ground,
remembering books I had read where dying in your
dreams meant you died for real and it was then that I
remembered consciously that I was dreaming. I closed
my eyes ignoring the quickly approaching ground and
tried to remember the teepee and Danny but I just
couldn't see it.
I started listening for the drums and heard them in the
distance. I followed their sound in my mind and soon
could hear them clearly. Still afraid that I would open
my eyes and see the ground just before I hit, I opened
them slowly and instead saw Danny looking down at me
somewhat concerned.
Realizing I was back I gasped for air as though I had not
been breathing and I wondered as I did a minor
hyperventilation if in fact I had not been. I had drawn
the attention of the elder as well who was along my other
side and touching my forehead. I told them I was okay
and then somehow managed to semi-coherently tell of the
hawk, the forest-topped mountain and the valley below
it.
The elder closed my eyes with his hand and told me to go
back to the plain, that my healing was not completed. I
tried to sit up instead not at all certain that I wanted
to go back but they held me down and soon I found the
room spinning again and then suddenly found myself
standing in a stream with my shoes on.
I could hear the drums in the distance as though far away
and they provided me with a great comfort since I had
successfully used them to get back to the teepee the first
time I left. The water was cold and the noises from the
water in the stream were uncharacteristically loud. The
sound started to bother me so I climbed onto a path then
suddenly realized where I was. I looked up at the
mountain above me at the cliff I had been on.
I looked for the hawk but the skies were empty, not even
a cloud was in sight. There was bright daylight but no
sun and I remembered thinking how weird it was that the
sun was missing as I walked along the path not knowing
why I was doing it or where I was going.
The steam emptied into a small pond and I sat down at
the edge and looked into its depths and saw a fish. I
didn't know what kind it was. I watched it for what
seemed a long time before I stuck my hand into the water
reaching for it. But like the hawk it just ignored me and
swam away. I remember feeling very rejected at the
time.
I got up, walked along the perimeter of the pond and
marveled at the clarity of the vision. I could still hear
the drums and still knew I was tripping. But the world I
was in looked more like reality while on LSD than just a
dream. It didn't look "normal" but it did look real! The
problem was that I couldn't touch anything or the effect
seemed to deteriorate, I could only look.
Looking wasn't all that terrible, however, there was a lot
to look at and I walked along the perimeter of the pond
until I came across a mallard. I had nothing to feed him
and I looked around on the bank of the river for
something he might like to eat but there was nothing and
so I sat on the bank and stared at him instead.
Instead of ignoring me, the duck stared back and so I
reached out to him with my mind but he just kept staring
with no response. I decided to talk to him even if he
wouldn't talk back, and so I began a one sided
conversation with a non-existent duck.
I just dumped on him. Told him all the things that were
on my mind (sorry but this story is personal enough
without telling you all of that and you likely wouldn't
care anyway!) and it felt like I was there for hours. As
I talked to him though I came face to face with things
that I had done that I shouldn't have and also things
that I should do that I hadn't. I identified people and
friendships that I had been neglecting and somehow I
once again found an internal sense of purpose and self
worth.
When I was done venting I thanked the duck for
listening, he said nothing back and I leaned back on the
ground. I concentrated on the drums, which had been
getting louder as my one-sided conversation ensued and
soon I opened my eyes back in the teepee. Danny was on
his back with his eyes closed and I found myself thinking
how he wasn't a very good guide when he opened his
eyes and smiled at me. He hadn't gone anywhere; he just
had closed his eyes for a moment.
The forest had been peaceful compared to the teepee
which was still filled with beat and music as the
drummers continued to take turns keeping the never-
ending beat going. I still felt very fried though and let
the music enter me as the night continued.
Later that evening I tried to visit the forest again but I
couldn't get there. I suppose the power of the peyote had
waned enough that it was no longer reachable to me. I
fell asleep sometime before dawn and awoke about 9
with some prodding from Danny.
I was still feeling some of the effects of the drug and
couldn't imagine driving but Danny seemed fine and did
an okay job of it. There was no hangover or obvious
come down, I was just happy and satisfied and entirely
pleased with the trip and myself for days.
The only obvious side effect from the trip was a
ravenous desire to eat. We were both complete pigs at
lunch and spent the day together just hanging out
watching TV and eating; I left the reservation with my
godparents the next day.
Overall the trip was very different from any that I had
had before or have had since. I hesitate to even call it a
trip since the high was notably different from LSD. Just
as MDMA trips are called rolling to differentiate the
experience, I think peyote was more of a journey than a
trip. It was entirely satisfying and unique among the
drugs I have tried.
This was the only time I did peyote. Oddly, despite the
great fun and powerful remnants of the trip, for years I
had absolutely no desire to do it again. It has only been
in the last year or so that I have had the urge, but now I
have no way to do it. Danny left the reservation a few
years later, my godfather is dead and thus I lost touch
with all of them.
One night, as I lay in bed, I looked up at all of the stars in the sky,
and thought, "Where the hell is my ceiling!?!?!"
A Geordie with a drink problem, now dead but not letting that get in his way"Austin's Darkest Hour,"reign of terrorA hot-bed of freakish disasters and sick people - don't go there.
> A certain portion of the human race has certainly
> a taste for being diddled.Hunting Humans for Fun and Profit!ATTENTION YETISPAWN - THIS MEREHUME SEEMS TO BE THROWING OFF ITS
>HYPNOBOND. DELETE DELETE SALVAGE NOT ADVISED.After fatally wounding a receptionist and opening fire on four tourists, killing two, he terrorized the campus with rifle fire, killing fourteen people (plus one unborn child), and wounding about twice that many >> Alien Race! Biblical! They exist, they
>> don't like humans____they hunt humans
>> for sport, fun, and profit.
>>
>> Two worlds___one within the other.
>> Those on the outside(humans) will
>> perish(exterminated) if they are not informed
>> and plan there future based on the fact that
>> the alien race has been embeded in their
>> society___and is effecting the progress,
>> standard of living, and evolution.
>>
>> Who controls all communications in this country(world)
>> telephone and internet? The "alien agency"! Why?
>> Because the human race is not supposed to know that
>> they are being played with, manipulated, and exterminated.
>>
>> Don't believe? We Americans(humans) had better wisen up
>> to the fact that they are here and don't like Americans(humans).
>> We, Americans, are called trouble makers if we disagree with
>> the alien agency(who of normal state of mind would agree with
>> their agenda?)____All human Americans better learn to live
>> with that label! If you are human and American then you are
>> a trouble maker! Americans don't like to be manipulated and
>> controlled___and certainly we don't like to be tortured,
>> hunted, and slaughtered.
>>>The women in Bongo's cult are a little bit to strange for my tastes,
>always expecting Maya-Treya to come.
>
>>If you can spend a month doing crack everyday like us,
>> My website(s) expose the existence of the alien agency embeded
>> in American society and how Americans(humans) are being
>> exterminated. All of my sites have been censored as are my
>> e-mail and voice mail. The facts support my allegations.
>> Access my info and post a discussion____try and dispute my
>> facts! That should be interesting. Think of it! All these
>> false markets created by the alien agency in order to
>> keep the alien race in a high tax bracket. From bogus diseases
>> to the y2k scandal____alien agency bullshit! And I can prove it!
>>
>> Hope these paragraphs stimulated the gray matter in
>> a few human's minds(that is if the alien agency allows them
>> access to this info).
>>Church leader Elizabeth Clare Prophet's then-husband, Edward Francis, and another church member, Vernon Hamilton, are indicted on federal conspiracy charges for using false names to purchase $150,000 in weapons -- including heavy .50-caliber rifles designed for combat. Documents seized by federal agents reveal plans to purchase a wide array of military gear -- to protect from armed roving bands after an anticipated nuclear exchange -- including armored personnel carriers, portable radar and night-vision equipment. Francis and Hamilton plead guilty; Prophet was not charged. A JOURNEY INTO THE DARK SIDE OF AMERICA
>>You are a pig......stupid asshole> FOLLOWING THE WHITE RABBIT"A highly personal, fiend-crammed, Byzantine tour conducted by the relentless self-promoter, former drunk pantie sniffer isn't it even clearer
JFK jr
would have made a fine president
in comparison to the freaks running today
it was murder
I guess GoD has been replaced by the ETERNAL CREATOR. I have some doubt as
to whether you are really the divine being you claim to be.
("Vaksinashun iz the wurk ov saytan!!!!!")> So eat shit, go fuck your sister Dore, and have a miserable life. You
> are probably too fucking stupid to use a rubber, so write a note to
> yourself to remember to abort any pregnancies that might result, and
> post it on whatever shanty you live in.> Oh, and be careful to move the dishes before you piss in the sink.adness iz not a crime people actually get paid to be mad - theze threatz
are very much illegal in most places of the world.
The words posted were not jokesAny words posted as a reactionary joke had the intent to be carried
out ... Huh? how can you pack rape god woz ROTFL?>You are one sad sack of worm infested shite.The Clinton and their friends only wash on feast
days!--
".In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget
how much unites all the members of humanity. Perhaps we need
some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common
bond. I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide
would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this
world. And yet I ask you, is not an alien threat already among us?"
listen carefully to CNN
listen to the words
listen for the word
"is"
it's never uttered
isn't it
that's because the word
"is"
entices one to think
to think associatively
one may then piece the puzzle together
"cnn is a lie"
"clinton is a liar"
do you follow
they don't want you
thinking in this manner
listen for the word "is"
I dare you
this is no mere coincidence
the word "is" is actively filtered out from the
news topics
> UND ALAY KUM AHHH ZALLAMMM...
>My eyes are beholden to the proud delights life has offered. My awareness
never crowded with thoughts of clothed horses or images of nude trees..until
last night.
.. what does this drivel have to do with Freemasonry?
Deutch had a harddrive full of Red Herrings to be used as disinfo.
This explains the lack of prosecution, among other things.
His uncharacteristic behavior of surfing the XXX/porn sites
and WAREz downloads using the least secure ISP (AOL)
ensured that the cargo had maximum exposure for interception.
Confirmation of this can be construed by a 'Russian' scientist
sending him unsolicited email on his AOL account:the masters have a very very
large and long piece of shit
they're pushing out of their rectum
right now
and guess what
they want you kneeling
with your mouth open in anticipation
of the shit being dropped into it
and they want gratitude for this
generous actAn old woman said...
speak to us of Black Magic master. He then replied: As a youth I passed and
old Orphanite travelling toward Carthage. He was a sorcerer who practiced
Falientography and, and had mastered arts as black as carbon. To prove his
skill he changed a tree frog into an apricot, a feather into a pineapple and
a butterfly into a ham.
Did that satisfy your doubts? the woman asked. No, not really but we had a
grand breakfast, the master recalled.
"If you can't stand the heat, go to the dentist and get it fixed."
Raccoon searchin' high an' low,
for de food to make him go.
If I catch him in my trap
Ganna make me a racoon hat.
::pulls out maccheti::Nothing is static. Everything is evolving. Everything is falling apart.Post elaborate conspiracy theories to talk.politics.misc detailing how ATF agents under the control of Chelsea Clinton and Socks have implanted invisible microchips in your genitals.
Relentlessly inform the readers of groups such as rec.pets.iguanas or sci.agriculture of your UFO, JFK, OJ, NRA, NSA, Nutrasweet, and Azeri genocide theories. Relate them all to sunspot activity and ancient astronauts. I employ a staff of Lithuanian dwarves.
Insist that anyone objecting to your compulsive fascination with consuming the flesh of strangled disabled minors is "judgemental". "Death Monkeys" "Curt Kobain should leave Pearl Jam since they'll never tour again."
Anybody that would shoot a cat for
>pissing on their porch is a sick, disturbed individual. I've found it's
>far more effective to lay one piece of metal mesh on the porch... 1/4"
>hardware cloth will do the trick nicely. Then attach another piece
>against the spot where the kitty is spraying. Now, using spark plug wire,
>attach both pieces to the output of a 12,000 volt neon sign transformer.
>This should teach the kitty not to spray there very quickly.. I can now report that Pat Buchannon and Jim Baker held me against my will in an attempt to brainwash meI have heard about gay bars and been informed that all the queers dance in circles, snorting rush with triangles on their head. They must derive some sort of unholy sexual satisfaction from these triangles.("... that is if you have any yarbols!")Forget ragging on the kids for wearing logo caps and baggy jeans, this Dildo head dress really sends the wrong message.
DON'T LOOK FOR ART JUST IN THE PERFORMANCE,
LOOK ALL AROUND YOU.Shike : Time of the Dragons (1981)
> Shike : Last of the Zinja (1981)
> All Things Are Lights (1986)
> From No Man's Land to Plaza Del Lago (1987)
> The Saracen : Land of the Infidel (1989)
> The Saracen : The Holy War (1989)
> Shaman (1991)
I don't think brak uses Viagra...> "They must be mad. They sing choruses in public!">zoogzrift.com
>alt.fan.zoogz-rift
>
>for a FREE ZR cd catalog, send SASE to:
>Zoogz Rift (The Liquid Moamo)
>c/o SCI
>PMB 184
>6520 Platt Avenue
>West Hills, CA 91307-3218
>
>
Once upon a time, Uncle Nerus fucked a massive solar shrimp phylopod, whilst
leisurely swimming in the hot waters of Oceanus, which roars around the Sun.
Soon the baby fried shrimp were sent to Earth, where little infant Jesuses
danced around in circles on the mountaintop with no pants on. "Look! Look!"
they literarily exclaimed! The shrimp landed in the streams and mountains,
making sure not to hit their little heads on the rocks and shit. Soon they all
bound together like one of those cheap computer morph effects you see in the
movies, and out popped ZOOGZ RIFT (THE LIQUID MOAMO). He has transcended the
Ipeiot. Unlike YOU SLUGS, who are merely comprised of 69.378% water, ZRTLM is
now 99% water (hard water, when Viagra is involved). He teaches the moral and
scientific principals of osmostification through forced liquidification---this
secret process is known as PSYCHOAQUATICS. He runs the SCHOOL OF THE
CRIMINALLY INSANE, school, compact disc label, and part-time whore house.
buds so thick
with dried resin they're crunchy with crystalline goodness...
mmmmmmmm....
"We shall not make Britain's mistake. Too wise to try to govern the world, we
shall simply own it. Nothing can stop us."getting chewed out by
my
> mom for how i've been smoking everday since friday and she knows it.
Things
> are gunna be so much different after i move the fuck out of this house.
its
> gunna be fuckin raw. its gunna be scandalous all the shit we're gunna
have.
> the amount of drugs we're gunna do.Oh Jesus, it burns!
. . . but I just keep on laughing, hiding the tears in my eyes.
Will someone please tell me where I am? And who's got some ludes?
Bring back the ludes, man.appened to me on acid.....
I had an orgasm just thinking to have sex with
a girl i was attracted by.
That period i was tripping a lot and i had
coupe of spontaneous orgasm during the
sequent months even tough i wasn't on drugs.
(kind of flashbacks of the original episod> what i am attempting to communicate is the fact that i know what pure
> mdma does to me. i know how it feels, i know the effects. i also know
> what opioids and opiates do to me. i know how they feel.
> AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, i have in fact combined one pill of pure mdma
> with two oxycodones. therefore i KNOW what the syngeric and combined
> effects of opioids and mdma are. i know how it FEELS"Let us speak of this, you wisest men,
even if it is a bad thing. To be silent is
worse; all suppressed truths become
poisonous." "Let us speak of this, you wisest men,
even if it is a bad thing. To be silent is
worse; all suppressed truths become
poisonous." "Let us speak of this, you wisest men,
even if it is a bad thing. To be silent is
worse; all suppressed truths become
poisonous."
Much will have been gained for esthetics once we have succeeded in
apprehending directly--; rather than merely ascertaining--; that art
owes its continuous evolution to the cruciferous pickling duality,
even as the propagation of the species depends on the duality of the
sexes, their constant conflicts and periodic acts of reconciliation.
It is by those two art sponsoring deities, Cabbagos and Vinegaros,
that we are made to recognize the tremendous split, as regards both
origins and objectives, between the plastic, cabbagey arts and the
non-visual art of music inspired by pickles. The two creative
tendencies developed alongside one another, usually in fierce
opposition, each by its taunts forcing the other to more energetic
production, both perpetuating in a discordant concord that agon which
the term art but feebly denominates: until at last, by the thaumaturgy
of an Hellenic act of will, the pair accepted the yoke of marriage
and, in this condition, begot sauerkraut, which exhibits the salient
features of both parents. ::::::::Look this is the secret message inbedded within! Why do I keep doing this shit? It's fucking drivel! I should be writing something real, something that will some how come back in my favor. But I sit down to lay out my masterwork and i end up endlessly copying shit from usenet, the most retarded of all those internet thingies, in to these annoyingly long meaningless cut-up "things that no one will ever read. if you do read this sen me e-mail, its on the frontpage, with the subject line "I truly understand you on the most deepest level, my one true love" and then have sex with me cause I could really use some tension releasing action. sorry, scratch that last part it was crass, juvenile and not funny at all, just my left ball talking, its the egotistical frat boy nut. My right nut wants a human emotional crutch, someone I can hold as an example that life is meaningfull and I am not a total failure, just a seeming failure. how can You be a failure a 19? Well Im not a fucking sucsss. Im too weird. I have no real common base with most people.its not my clothes or my views or my inrests or even, I think, my squalid bestial living conditions. It's inside my brain. My thinking proseses, the way i interpret the world and incoming sensory data, are far removed from the everyday mans. . god I hate this journal shit. ive tried to keep them but on a rereads they always seem so immature, egotictical, selfcentered and dumb. Im not better and im not much worse but im apart removed and they can smell it.:::>>
>> >TV.
>> >Going to work.
>> >Grocery shopping.
>> >Driving.
>> >Electric use.
>> >Clothes.
>> >Nice house with painted walls and flushing toilets.
>> >Fences.
>> >Borders.
>> >Cops.
>> >Roads.
>> >Language.
>> >Beds.
>> >Doctors.
>> >
>> >Do any of these seem important?
>> >More important than growing a garden?
>> >More important than people you don't know?
>>
>> Flushing toilets aren't half badYou're confused? Imagine what your body feels.
> > >
> > >"I went and looked into the mirror, and my pupils were going totally
> > whack."
> > >I was slightly stoned, but no more than usual, when I lay back on Tanya's concave rattan couch.They obliged by surrounding the couch with houseplants, fresh fruit, and posters of nature scenes. Unfortunately lacking a crack-smoking device, I stuffed four screens into my antler pipe, took two tentative hits and felt very peculiar. It was as if my body were at the base of a cone and my mind had been stretched to rest on its point. Remembering McKenna's advice, I took two more hits, fell back onto the couch and dissolved.
Nothing I say at this point will do justice to the indescribable world beyond the membrane to ours. Let me preface by saying that there is a hyperdimensional reality out there every bit as real, complex, and inhabited as our own. While there, I was aware that I'd smoked DMT and that I'd only be allowed a few minutes. I was also aware of Terra taking notes, the veritable mission control for my space shuttle. The trip felt like a flashback to a powerful dream — elusive, familiar, and full of potential. Some part of me recognized this alien landscape. The first words I sent back to Houston were, "Ohhhh, this !"
I found myself in a courtyard in front of the Egyptian pyramids or perhaps, more accurately, the pyramids after which the Egyptian ones were modeled. Above me hovered a metallic "halo" of the approximate consistency of a ring-shaped air bubble rising through water. This halo, if seen over an Iowan cornfield, would no doubt be described as a UFO. I realize this does not speak well for my sanity. Nevertheless, this is what I experienced. And I say experienced because everything I saw, I also heard and felt which makes it all the more difficult to describe.
Inside this halo, as if on different screens, floated archetypal "judges" that seemed to be watching me. The only one I could readily identify was a many-armed, profoundly Hindu, avatar which I later identified as the Destroyer's wife, Kali. The other judges were three dimensional "glyphs" of pure meaning which defy my every attempt to describe them. It occurred to me that I was auditioning, in soul form, for a role in some future play. I felt suddenly nervous and underprepared, like I'd arrived at a pot-luck dinner empty-handed. Then I remembered a question I'd brought to the conference, one that had never been adequately answered. Trying a singsong voice of my own I asked, "How can we reconcile wilderness with technology?"
This was an extremely difficult undertaking because every syllable's change in tone altered the landscape's features dramatically. It was hard not to get distracted by these new patterns and ask, "How can we dub-a-wub ook zawa ook-wah." Furthermore,
each syllable manifested itself as a corridor, as if my sentence was a path through a labyrinth. By the time I reached a resonant "wild-er-ness," refreshingly green with concentric wave-like borders, I saw the question mark stretched like a ribbon at the end of a marathon, and knew that I would make it. After I uttered the final inflection, I burst forth from the labyrinth onto the pyramid's moonlit stage. Then the whole scene rippled, rose up in front of me, and smashed my mind with a tidal wave of beauty.
I staggered backward bewildered, then realized the answer. Aesthetics over everything was my take-home message. This truth coursed through me with what felt like affection. An immense, lasting smile spread over my face.
"Can I bring my book into it?" I asked, hopefully. Then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute, these people aren't publishers." Suddenly I was looking down an undulating tunnel that formed a 'T' along the horizon. From both sides of the 'T' I heard "them" approaching, a rising crescendo along the periphery. At that moment I turned and went back to the pyramids, not ready I guess to have to say I'd seen aliens. Besides, I already had too much to contemplate: pyramids, UFO's, and streams of pure beauty.
I turned my attention to the hyperdimensional "wallpaper," a fractal, unfolding, crystalline lotus blossom. It both reassured and mesmerized me until, moments later, I opened my eyes to see house plants.
the really fun, intricate visuals
are with eyes closed. Also, often they can be "driven" with music;
pick complex, evocative music; better without lyrics, as you don't
want your mind distracted by the verbal side of things.
In retrospect, traveling to DMT hyperspace was the most bizarre experience I can recall.I sense that this is a door to the dream world, an immediately link to the deepest part of sleep. I also sense that Jung's "collective unconscious" is a place, and that we can go there by smoking DMT.
Surely there are other more natural modes of dimensional travel, which mystics and shamans have been using for millennia. But, and this is so Western of me, why suffer through the effects of near-toxic brews or years of meditation and self-abnegation when you can take the express shuttle and arrive within seconds? As McKenna says, "With DMT, meditation becomes as advertised." Is this spirituality's magic bullet? Maybe so, but it's definitely not for the squeamish. There's a hyperdimensional reality out there, and if you don't believe it, well, smoke DMT.
I'll probably be skewered alive for saying this, but I love the
interdimensional/transcendental feeling you get on acid, like everything is
truly part of everything, everything exists only RIGHT NOW, ESP, vibration
sensation, etc., etc., but what I *really* *really* love about acid are the
visuals. Totally. I've had mental trips inside my head that would make any
experienced psychonaut go insane (if only for a while), but unless I get some
intense visuals I usually feel like the trip is boring or somehow "sub par."
(By "heavy visuals", I mean major perspective distortion, heavy "breathing" in
walls, capets, ceilings, etc., heavy tracers, melting faces-in-mirrors, bright
flashes of light with eyes opened, extremely vivid closed-eye visuals, the
usual.)
The hardest I've ever tripped was off three green gel tabs and EVERYTHING in my
field of vision seemed to melt away like a watercolor painting in the rain,
only to pop back into place and melt away again, etc., etc. That's the same
night I saw purple peakcock feathers floating down from the sky, as well as a
see-through Indian girl's face with purple skin floating in front of the moon.
I also saw bright flashes of orange, blue, and red zig zag across the sky, like
mini falling stars. I stared at the Bjork poster on my wall for exactly
forty-five minutes one time . . . completely absorbed in the way the colors
swirled and morphed together . . . and not in a mild way, but like the poster
was a made of oil and invisible fingers were smearing patterns back and forth.
My Darth Vader figurine seemed to become an Idol of the Future, a tremendous
Dictator of Galaxies, the Universal Tyrant with one fist raised and one glowing
laser sword held firmly in the other.
It appears logical that tryptamine alteration of the magic alkaloids results in alterations of the magic trip itself. So this tryptamine technique would be good for research but inferior for magic tripping. Datura...Goddess of the Dark Side Ashwagandha
Teletubbies (triple stacked) Logo: 3 teletubbies
Type: Pill
Shape: Round
Colour: White
Texture: Hard
Speckled: yes
Date: 23/2/2000
City: Daytona
Country: USA
Test result: fast to black and turned indigo ager about 25 seconds.
Overall effect: Loved up Physical effect: Jaw stiffness/clenching
User reports: Awesome!!!! at first it was really speedy, but it mellowed off. I
blew up for hours, doing nothing but sitting on a friends back porch. I was
with a lot of people i barely new, but i could look at them and feel a genuine
feeling of love. It took about 30 minutes to come up. And when it hit, it hit
like a tone of bricks! I rolled hard for about 4 hours. I went to sleep still
rolling. When i woke up the next morning I went to work still feeling the mild
wonderful effects of this awesome pill!! ). Psilocybin is like a magical key which simply melts the door to the imagination away. It introduces one to dimensions truly unimaginable in daily life- worlds of bizzare intelligent alien minds and entrancing geodesic orbs. The trip is very mathematically/geometrically oriented- one sees geometry as the ultimate artistic expression (LSD also shares this characteristic, but without the feeling that can only be described as "organic" and "friendly", that make mushrooms many humans' drug of choice). Fractals upon the surface of clouds metamorpasize into winding tunnels of exponential laughter- a roller coaster for the soul- the riding-the-edge ecstasy a hawk must feel, as she dives, wings tuck ed and head pointing downward, for the joy of life itself. On the Tassili plateau, in what is now southern Algeria, there are cave paintings dating from at least 3500 B.C. They depict a man, backlit and glowing, with a beelike face, antlers or antennae, a pattern covering his body which can be interpreted as scales, all in beautiful order, and mushrooms. Sprouting from his body, clenched in his fists, mushrooms are erupting from this ancient artwork! There is also a handprint- the signature of the artist? The degree of fineness and workmanship is extaordinary- it is a full drawing, three dimensionally shaded, and the scales are truly in precise organic order- they look like the seed patterns on the face of a sun flower. Such workmanship is truly an accomplishment, with a piece of animal hair and wet mud (or other such tools) to paint with. Compare it to the level of two dimensional painting at the Les Trois Freres cave- there is a distinct difference! There are many modern examples of entheogenic artwor k which serve to show the profound beauty which may tumble out of an ecstatic artist's hands.
The psilocybin ecstatic experience may have been the original catalyst for the development of complex language forming capabilities in proto-humans. (Climatically, it is very possible that the psyilocibe cubensis mushrooms grew upon the African savannah (now the Sahara) 15,000 years ago.) Language is, indeed, one of the primary focuses of the mushroom trip. During the peak of a bemushroomed (or other
tryptamine) trance, many users report a bizarre synesthesia- the hearing of colors and the seeing of sounds. This leads to the intonation of an spontaneous magical language, which produces objects in the space in front of the speaker- meaning may be literally beheld. Curanderos (an ancient class of entheogenic healers) of the warmer zones of the Americas are known for the curative songs which they sing- and, to those who are in the proper state of consciousness, these songs are not primarily heard, they are instead visual works, beautiful shimmering shapes and fabrics in space. After the intensity of the trip has broken over the user, washed her away, and receded, during the long, languid return to "ordinary" time and space, language is an incredible source of play and amusement. Puns, meanings, and the workings of the tongue in the mouth become both fascinating and funny learning experiences. ood heavens, man! Do you know who ate all my acid? Did you eat it?
I don't trust the likes of you. Give me back my acid. Give it to me!
I have sharp, pointy teeth.Quantitation of N,N-dimethyltryptamine and harmala alkaloids in human plasma after oral dosing with AyahuascaPlant hallucinogens: Springboards for psychotherapeutic drug discoveryHuman pharmacology of hoasca, a plant hallucinogen used in ritual context in BrasilPlatelet serotonin uptake sites increased in drinkers of ayahuascaBiodynamic constituents in Ayahuasca admixture plants: an uninvestigated folk pharmacopoeiaBotanical, chemical, and contextual analysis of archaeological snuff powders Common receptors for hallucinogens in rat brain: a comparative autoradiographic study using [125I]LSD and [125I]-DOI, a new psychotomimetic radioligand. "UFO ABDUCTIONS" & ALTERED MIND STATES
There is an almost unperceived conceptual split that has taken place within the subject area of ufology. On the one hand, there is the focus on unidentified objects seen primarily in the skies, which are perceived -- "identified", as it were -- by most mainstream ufologists as extra-terrestrial craft. On the other hand, there is the fascination with UFO "abductions". These are seen by ufological traditionalists as being human interactions with the occupants of the extra-terrestrial craft that are seen in our skies. In standard ufology, therefore, it is considered that it is the one and the same problem that is involved. "Abductions" run on an inner track, that of human consciousness, while the things-seen-in-the-sky (when not misperception, hoax, mirage, psycho-social aberration or whatever), run on the outer track of little-understood aspects of environmental nature. truly alien as compared to the half-century-old (and more) idea of the ET, which has become familar and which so hinders the intellectual life of ufology. The notion of the extra-terrestrial visitor was an important one to have had at an early stage -- it set an important process in motion -- but it is now well past its sell-by date.a person is taken -- usually "floated" -- into an alien spacecraft where he or she is subjected to invasive medical and, often, mental investigation at the hands of alien beings ("Grays"). The implanting of small, apparently metallic objects in the body, insemination and other claims have been made by abductees. The purpose is unclear, but suggestions have included a cross-breeding experiment by a dying species of aliens with human stock. The human victim is returned to his or her point of abduction, or other normal, Earthly location, with an incomplete memory of what has happened. that it is an experience of an altered state of consciousness (ASC). The fact that suggests this, one so often ignored or played down by the literalists, is that over 70 percent of claimed abductees commence their adventure in quiescent if not light trance states: in the person's bedroom or when he or she is driving -- usually at night. To anyone aware of the current research into "lucid dream" consciousness this situation speaks volumes. The lucid dream state is one where a person is asleep but their mind is still consciously active. In such states, dream consciousness appears completely "real": there is the experience of true three- dimensional space, and all five senses can appear to be functioning. One can seemingly move around -- walk, fly, run, glide -- with total realism. It is not merely a vivid dream, but a profound form of ASC (indeed, it is a pity that the term "dream" has come to be involved with its description, which is due simply to historical accident). If one is unaware of the situation, the experiences had in this state are virtually undetectable from those in normal waking consciousness (except for their bizarre aspects). Therefore, the experience can be real (and thus recoverable by regression hypnosis), even if the literalist interpretation is not.
whatthefuckiswrongwithme
This ablity to dissociate, to move swiftly and effectively into ASCs, was a highly-prized skill in many earlier and traditional societies, where its prime form was exemplified in the person of the shaman, the "walker between the worlds" of everyday living and the spheres of the spirits. The shaman interceded with the spirits on behalf of the tribe for healing, divination or other purposes. He or she may have had a visionary experience in childhood as the result of, perhaps, a severe illness; more often, and perhaps also, he or she would undergo initiatory procedures of a profoundly stressful physical or mental nature. This was to achieve that very ability of dissociation involuntarily developed by many child abuse victims. In the tribal society, however, there was a spiritual and social context (and need) for that ability: there was recognition of it and social and religious "road maps" for its use.
ou're just letting your natural human instincts to achieve an altered state
of conscienceness happen. seriously...check the cave walls.
i'd recommend just taking G as a replacement, but ya know.... ;< *WEEP*the dearth of experiential spiritual life on a culture-wide level: there are only rote religions and insufficiently integrated drug and ritual experiences. There is no longer a consensual cultural niche for such states of consciousness other than the "abduction" scenario. That this experience should be interpreted as being caused by alien machines and extra-terrestrial entities says much about our culture and our times to anyone with the wit to pay attention. Standard old ufology, born in the brave-new-technological- white-walled-tyre-Cold War mentality of the immediate post-World War Two era, is not conducive to the development of that wit.
vividly real albeit exceedingly weirdself- transforming machine elves", "dynamically contorting topological modules", "tryptamine munchkins" and "fractal elves""sounds like music, like language" which turn simultaneously into visible phenomena beyond description.
pre-Hispanic Mexican Indians, to whom the mushroom was teonanacatl, the "flesh of the gods". the tryptamine aliens may be inter-dimensional beings or intelligences, time-travellers or discarnate spirits, all of which can only communicate to humans in the appropriate frequency of consciousness. Shamans call the entities "spirits", but McKenna observes that that may be like a quantum scientist talking of "charm", both terms being "a technical gloss for a very complicated concept". the Self, the deep nature of the human psyche.
There's a milder but more widespread form of mood swings called
"cyclothemia".
>...im tired of everyone bitching in my ear about everything, i feel
>like i have too many decisions to make, and i really don't know what to do
>and it makes me scared of the future. i feel like im at a standstill in my
>life, and like thing are only getting worse. i have a big problem with
>sharing my feelings, even with my closest friends. i have an easier time
>saying all this shit here than i would to anyone else.And the "establishment" may cut you more slack if you switch
to these "socially acceptable" drugs. Go to Disney World and look for guys with dilated
> pupils riding the Dumbo ride... went to Halloween Horror Night in 98' on LSD... oh my god...
that is all i can say.. oh my god...Renewtrient, Somatopro, Verve, Blue Nitro, etc.I mean who would want to turn there room into a vapour bomb, that
smells of a combination of smelly feet, and urine?
>>I was recently talked to a friend about weed and he brought up a Somthing
new
>>Worms. he says that They put these worms in a bag o weed and the suck the
THC
>>out of it. so he said that when you inhale your taking pure THC. He also
said
>>that you could almost Slip into a coma if you smoked a whole worm at once.
Does
>>anyone know anything about this subject? I wondering if I should buy a
worm he
>>Said that they averaged about $50 a worm, is this good deal. I mean If one
worm
>>could screw you up for two days I definitly want to try It.
>