'Underground Network Alternative Communication' 


Doctors offices are involved with the predatory tactics of mis diagnosis, with the specific goal of locking up anyone who doesn't agree to a Religious re-programming sentence MANDATED by the state.

Fact: If ANYONE calls the human services department with a valid or NON VALID complaint that they think you are a danger,
they can literally and legally "break down your door" hand cuff you, and bring you to a section in the hospital that you cannot leave until they say so. All based off of one persons OPINION. Which is ILLEGAL.

They have NO imposed probable cause hold policy and can hold you against your will as long as they want.

No state in the country can hold someone in jail for longer than 48 hours except New Orleans, but for some reason, in every state, it is legal, to walk into anyones house, bring someone to a hospital, inject them with anything you want, then send them to court to get them legally mandated to enter a facility to re-program your mind to a more manageable place.

If I didn't have rich parents, a house, and a crew the size of gods dick, I would be stuck in one of those shit holes too. And since I'm not, maybe you could help me out by sending me some stories about what actually goes on in those rehab clinics and help meetings.


Twitch and Tweak 

We first met in a prison for the rich.
We were the only ones that got out alive. They forced us to form a death grip on the weak and fend only for ourselves, for that was their culture. Be all you can be by shoving everyone else to the bottom. Now obey the ones who come into our room at night and beat us with lacrosse sticks. Obey the ones that make you dig holes and run in circles until you cry. Obey the ones that pushed that one girl to drink laundry detergent and hitchhike two states just to be sent back by her own grandma.

Beat up that fat kid. Sit on the bleachers. Shut the fuck up.

So we faked it.

And then, there was life. Just regular life. A magnifying glass to spark a bowl in the yard and a one hundred thousand dollar car patrolling the block. A ride in a convertible with a banana flavored joint and house party where we listened to girl music then drove to the police station to just to smoke a joint. Ahhhh to be a kid again.

So then after that we both got drafted into the state of war that we had both been more or less unaware of. I became stuck in a box and he became stuck in a traveling band of gypsies. The collective of the phish. He is now one of the generals of the Army of the Art east coast division.

He taught me, that sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do, is cut the track for only a split second, using only a speck of complete silence, to make what you were saying, just that much more important.


A spy sent to gather information for one of the art squads in the city. Posted at one of the most pivotal and dangerous walls in the country. Inland but still subject to the giant wind and rain generators booming down the river from canada. She has a collection of different disguises. To catch a glimpse of her eyes is a rare sight but when you do, she has 20/20 vision with which to paint the most beautiful watercolor landscapes anybody has ever seen. Uhh ohh your in trouble, and then bang, before you know it, there she is, behind a make shift bar at a backyard party or at your house holding up the roof during a wind generator downpour.

The cops were closing in on us. They had a blockade two locks back. They had already taken their police rafts across the pass in an attempt to flush us out. Their plan was to pull us over on the way out, acquire the map, and leave us in a ditch. That's when Gertrude showed up. Ya, we can just take the river then. She didn't even have to be catty, the cops knew she had found the loophole in their plan. They thought to themselves,

How do you pull someone over in a canoe fort?


You wanna fuck around? We don’t cherry pick up in this bitch but if you wanna go, we will take the whole order. 
Dogs? Ya we can do that. Human shield, gladiator death match, breaking into locks and drinking patron. Bullet proof arms, the whole shebang. We activate him just to warn people even thinking about doing something. When he walks into the room, he sees with heat sensor vision and can detect any object that could be considered a weapon, how easily it could be acquired and how to properly erase that possibility.

When it rains, they cover it. There is too much energy. The aerodynamics of his jaws and forehead are bred for one thing, complete physical dominance. We don’t need to send him into battle, he sends himself in to battle. He likes the underworld. And maybe, that's the reason he doesn't cherry pick, because that's how you can never be defeated.

Every once and a while they hold these deathmatches in red locks around the city. Every team has a fighter. The fights are in basements and parking lots and even sometimes in the middle of football fields. These fighters are traded and treated just like professional athletes, then go about their daily life as if these fights never took place. The fights can be as vicious as beating a man to a pulp on the ground or as simple as knocking them out. But eventually in the land of the dog, the fights become serious and the death of fighters is expected.

For 6 lifetimes of undefeated combat he now fights for the Army of the Art and is expected to enter a match sometime in the next few years, ever since his recent victory against the old red state oil refinery team. It is considered the main sport inside of the underworld so he is kind of a celebrity. But don’t let that fool you. Just because he isn't fighting in the matches, doesn’t mean he's not working. This is the new government. This is, The State of the Art.

Pink Pants

He is sent into battle to race against time before a locks about to close up. They split up the sections everyday. You go this way, I’ll go that way. When he's around, the traffic booth knows they won’t close up that area. And just to be sure, we have him on zello and fb to check in. Sometimes we even hear him over the galactic news cam. Evidence? Yes this man threatened to hit me with his truck door because I’m wearing pink biking pants. Yes. I do live here. Yes. I do want to hang out and ride fixed gear bikes and test the temperature of the tap water. Yes I do breed fish and work to much. Yes I could find you if you gave me a description of where you were.

We played a game of capture the flag on the fourth of july. To win, we needed to lock off multiple sections of the city, hide the merchandise, then deliver the package to the river. We also needed to swim in the lake. Like throwing the rockets into the end zone it was the scientist and the reaper that set off damn near 100 dollars worth of menards bought fireworks down over the grain belt sign as the crowd dispersed from what they thought was the main show.

Aisle Stalker

My friend got a job at a grocery store. He stalked the aisles and every few days or so would help unload the truck. The guys unloading the truck had all these fancy watches and super cool hats and shiny shoes and stuff so one day the aisle stalker asked them how they made all their money. They told him, you can come work for us, but then you will never know when your shift is over. It just happens, you just work for us, we give you cool stuff, then one day, just like that, you will be free to do whatever you want with 1 million watches and 1 million cool hats and all the shiny shoes you could ever wish for.

So he went to work for the truck unloaders. They brought him to a basement somewhere where he was a butcher, then every day, he would unload the truck. The trucks contained not only meat and groceries, but also many other different things as well. Sometimes he would deliver TV’s, sometimes live animals, sometimes he just unloaded rocks. As his time working for them progressed and he began to meet people and was transferred over to a different section where they began to craft an alternative life for him. They tailored a new job and world for him to occupy, but all the while he was thinking… am I still working, or is this my life?

Super Blast 52

The world from which they were fighting has plummeted into a an ice age and now our world will be allowed to live past the mayan prophecy of the 52nd super blast from space when the whole city lit up with purple signally an SOS please save our planet by blowing it to smithereens. Ya we did it alright, this is the third and most dangerous bridge in time. Yes time. We made it. We made it because our system had enough money to bet our way to the tippy tops of the blue world, literally buy the game and send the Vikings back home on their wooden ship. What SOS? What are you talking about. This world isn't asking for your help. We don’t want to die.

And yes some of us are still unaware. On many levels. We are all traumatized from this. But maybe it’s over now and we can stop playing pretend.

I really hope shit works out for me. I put a lot of work in to trying to figure out what's going on. I love you all and am sorry i acted like such a fool pushing my best friends and opportunities away from me. Something will happen. I just hope I'm somewhere close to the end.

Or just a few months past it.


I was not born into this life of war. I was a trust fund kid trying to make my own startup. A start up in a zoo that was pinned against me from the moment I first tried to have that concert. They put me into acoma and rushed me to the hospital for 3 weeks.

Some of you remember this. It was at the Kangas’s.

It was when the pizza arrived.

I remember walking to the slices, then passing out.

The next thing I knew I weighed 70 pounds and the surgeons were peering over me trying to communicate that this surgery was a dangerous procedure and I may die.

The magical prophecy, the virgin mary. The key to life. The BIG DOG.

And you laugh like its not true. And of course, that would make sense.

But then again, none of this really makes any sense. That is, unless you were me, and you went through as many years of intergalactic warm up classes as I did. Yes. I did study at the intergalactic academy, and yes, they did give me a high clearance to, if needed, tour red facilities across the country. And yes, some of this stuff they are talking about, in this world, is true. Yes they do kill enemies of their secret government and yes they do believe that shortening the life of the planet and killing animals with a higher weight gives you more power. They believe all sorts of weird things. But they are only attempting to cover up the truth to how the world really is.

It is not a big room of stairs and passageways that all lead back to here. It is only a trap.

They have a counterfeit version of the larger computer system inside the reality of earth.

On earth, they have taken the rules and directions that were once common knowledge and morphed them into a tumorous lie.

They explain it like a horse race. The deepest ancestry and longest family line will take the cake. But in this reality the cake is the dirt that your body turns into after it rots. The horse race that is REALLY happening is a intergalactic race of energy. The computer poses the question, which WORLD will make the most energy. Which planet will have the longest life thus generating a longer run time for the system that we are inside.

The entire planet is our family. That is our team.

So since the beginning of time they have been telling people to protect their family line, not the earth. Use as much energy as you can because that will give you a higher priority.

They tell you, don't be red, suck my dick and I will give you more money. Thats how you turn red people back into blue people. And if you don't suck my dick, just go drive a truck filled with cement to the top of a mountain and drink an energy drink. Now you should be good.

They have morphed the reality of the world in to some sick game with which to shut our entire planet off.

The funny thing is, their planet, has already died. Or did it.

So what exactly was the purpose of what I was learning?

It is the proof. We hold the evidence.


I’m not quite sure. I think I am someone being contacted by something that is teaching me and showing me something that is a serious problem in the world. It is showing me how to communicate to the things and people around me and if all goes to plan it will show me a viable way to get out of this mess. I needed to explore areas and see things that for me, most the time, made no sense at all. And until now, I didn't even know we were in a war zone. It was the people around me, the people who have lived multiple lifetimes, the army of the lizard, the Army of the Art, the silence in the trees and most importantly the one that counts and figures.

The story is very romantic. But it’s cheesy. 100 Billion lifetimes ago, inside one of the first sections of the game, before all this happened, there was a time when people did talk about this stuff that was happening. This was before people realized how many lifetimes could be given as punishment. Imagine, the same lifetime, over and over again, either that, or cryogenic sleep. All the red must die by the end of the game. Only green or gold will survive. Everyone else is just a battery of thought. That’s what happened to me. I died because of a bet I made and I'm coming back for my last life to connect the dot I wanted to connect the first time I died.

So back then, towards the end of the game, after the government breaks down and the theory of the game is commonplace knowledge they tunnel into these mountains and wait out the storm.

Have you ever heard of serving a 10 thousand year sentence in only 5 minutes? 
I was asleep flowing through the inverted pressure and nausea not even aware of my own consciousness for hundreds of millions of years. I guess that's somehow the equivalent to 42 lifetimes.

During this time I was visited by a blind, technically not human, entity that had free thought inside of the system and somehow could contact me in my cryogenic sleep. Sort of like being 10 times too drunk in a pitch black water slide going for infinity. We communicated and when possible that consciousness would come literally visit me in my sleep.

When I woke up things had already been arranged. And somehow I was going to win that bet. My whole life I have not known what it is I am supposed to find, and what exactly that bet was. All I know is, that somehow, somewhere, I have a partner in this world, that isn't quite human.

Captain Riptide

Green, 4 life times young - he's an active scientist for the army of the wisconsin tunnel research facility in a top secret location connected by tunnels and passageways in different areas in the land.

One of the research facilities even has an underground train that can bring you back and forth from one facility to the other. He spends most of his time teaching. He teaches secret classes to the professors of the colleges and other institutions that are in need of his help.

He studies in his sleep and has a secret clearance in both the Red Army of the Art and the United States Military secret forces clearance branch. Molecular dissection, calming spells, science remedies, camping level 2 and biking level 10 black belt ninja. He came from another world before this one. But as everyone here has found out, once your here… your pretty much stuck.

Captain Riptide is the captain of A team and is currently on break in snowy Moab. They are visiting a secret bunker in the the side of a cliff where the red army of art rescued a small zoo of armadillos. They live in exile inside of a mountain side zoo that cost the Army of the Red 4 million dollars and is staffed by the oldest man in the country, the armadillo zoo keeper. He will only tour the facility. He will not stay. It is advised that we give the red army a good 4 day period to get the new information through their ranks and recognize that yes in fact, I am not a snake, I am the president of the Red.

Hopefully he will get home safe. Shit is pretty windy out there, but Riptide has excellent subliminal communication skills and can communicate without speaking to most anyone in the world.


Cyborg of security with low contrast vision and an Army of the Art badge clearance that is among the second highest teer along with skorp and the drummer of black sabbath, even dead artists are part of this squad. He knows all the secret dirt paths, short cuts, addresses, locations and history of everything in the entire world. Everything. When we go on missions he is ten steps ahead of the mountain cat that was thinking about stalking us. When we build a dam, it’s an arch. When we build a bridge, it is a tree on its side like a majestic statue. When a cat eats his portion of sausages, he shrugs his shoulders and says, that cat was me.

We wear sunglasses and talk in code. Nothing gets passed without his knowledge and nothing but determination has kept him going since he fell down the hole of the Army of the Art and was pinned in a unending hole of, go to Oregon. The trail man.

He was the first person to break out of a system like ours. From a different dimension plagued by the same cancer as ours. The quest to destroy their planet. It is a lizard planet with sensations similar to ours but different. He was the first person to make it out, and now he is here, in our world, to help us to do the same thing. Free ourselves.

U sho

He truly does have the highest clearance in the city. That is, when there's a live game running. 
He is the original gangster. Started at the top now he's at the bottom. Stuck in a time warp. Every time he leaves the blue world, or the immediate proximity someone with a live game in the system, the red world can snatch him up and bring him to jail or a hotel room with poison gas hallways. They can trap him for as long as it takes for the map to say he may be expected in the blue world again. He is poisoned and examined but until the computer says our generations group has lost its head, he can not be killed or kept out of the blue world but they can try to deter him. That is the rank of the irishman. This is represented by gold or white on the map. This is a tough life. Many jobs will not hire someone with as much knowledge of the system as him.


Skorpian has lived for one million lifetimes because he worked for the red army for so long. He has the one of the highest clearances of the red because the prophecy of the computer has computed that his band will one day be honored in the galactic hall of fame.

To fight evil he goes to places where bad things would happen and uses his millionth lifetime powers to cast protection and illusion spells as camouflage to the red lord. He has lived so many lifetimes that he has senses that neither I nor any man could understand. The map of the world is inside his mind and across his vision like a space suit.

He has seen this world smother one billion times before, but now, for the first time in three reps of a trillion we are closer to victory than ever. This will be the last time the evil red lord tricks us all and turns our consciousness in to batter.

He has been punished severely for his help bringing my points to a mathematical certainty. But now that I know we must band together and fight evil by bringing down the government of oil that runs this country.

Sadly this army has been slightly confused since its a secret army and most of them still don’t know who the one with the key is. This is because of the deep saturation of delusion that is rampant inside the culture of the red. Like a game of telephone changed slightly at every rank.

I followed directions and worked with my team to devise a plan, to overthrow the most evil section of the government of the red from inside the world of the blue. There are different crews in the red world, the artist crew, the scientists, the cooks, the sexy people, the beer junkies, and the rock hoppers.

Outside of the world of the blue many amazing things exist.

Madeline Clouds 

She has been alive for 42 lifetimes. She has the cutest feet imaginable, the way she walks and plays with the energy. For my whole life she tended me while I slept. In a world of isolation she supported me at pivotal moments during my journey through the world in a bubble i had no idea I was in.

I first saw her in the thunderstorm on weeks avenue. In my head I thought, ‘I’m going to marry that girl in the floral dress.’ In her head she thought, ‘I think there's a fire over there.’ I climbed up the light pole and lighting came crashing down. Dark clouds breathed like a giant seashell and the air was thick.

She let me sleep on her couch and take hot showers.

And even though I was asleep for all those years, it doesn't mean I wasn’t there. It’s like a 27 year long meditation course just to determine how best to be apart of this world. But even then, 42 lifetimes is a lot. That's a lot of stuff to handle. Thats alot of time to fill.

She was so jaded after 1428 years of repeat life that she was certain that there was no such thing as true love.

She thought to herself upon her 41st life's end, ‘let me live once more, let me experience love one more time and I will give this blue world a try.


Part I continued:

On my way out of Moab, when you are going up the mountain towards Denver, in between the two tunnels on the road. There is an overpass that separates the two lanes of traffic into different levels. Oncoming traffic is not visible. Underneath the roadway is a river, above it are two towering ridges that hug the perimeter of the throughway. This is one of the factory locks. You might remember a building on the left side of the road. This is the only way out, this is one of the most guarded locks in the country. Under the high roadway. It looks like some sort of manisple facility with viewing windows on to the road.


In the pathement there are two cuts on either side of the two lane road. The cuts go crosswise and you can see it as you drive by.

It is literally a drawbridge.

They monitor the traffic far before you reach the lock. They have been monitoring you since god knows when, but especially after you were deemed red by the system. You started a dope band, lost your job, got in trouble with the wrong people or just knew too much.

Somewhere before the drawbridge I passed a car that had been demolished. Teetering on its side. No one was in it.

But really. If you think about it. There is no way in hell that they could get away with that. Someone would find out. No way an entity as strong as this, would leave behind any traces of their body count.

I think a easier more untraceable way would be just checking someone off the highway into a ditch. No one would be able to know what happened to old Jim in the truck after he started spouting off a bunch of nonsense and moved off the land of the red.

Now. What do we do.

Part I - The Wastelands of Lockdown

Part I - The Wastelands of Lockdown

I met this girl who has been alive for 42 lifetimes. She has lived on repeat in this game for 1428 years. I just found out she has always had boyfriend in the red game which is a group of nomadic hooligans that work as essentially actors in this world like the Truman show.


They are the ones that know. They are the ones pulling the strings. They are paid in drugs, cash or game play time. They give people hope. They give people their time and attention but are forced under penalty of death to never speak of the secret land of the red in which they reside. They have different jobs such as truck driver, cooks, escorts, bodyguards, drug dealers and trappers.

They live in different locations on set pretending to be different characters like hotel patron or campside group but they might actually be protecting a family on set that still has a strong ancestry or some valuable resource to someone's program. They have lived so many lifetimes that they do things we couldn't even fathom just to survive. It is a different sort of life to be banished to the red world. Inside the red world, no one comes out alive…

That is, of course, unless somehow, you make your way back into the blue game.

Once upon a time they lost their chance to be apart of society. This can happen by losing your way on drugs, crime, abnormality, mental illness or even being too good at art or gardening to efficiently. Even talking about or knowing about it became a crime. They were forced into different sections, divided by highways, sectioned on to different floors at work and given their breaks at the same time every year. They give us the illusion there are many more people in this country than there really are.

They keep the red group far away from the ones that still obey, working for the corporations that cram their bodies into tiny cubicles contorting their bodies and spending their money to ship items back and forth on interstates and planes to further their reach with an army sent from hell.

The game is simple. Give people lives, grow them to be fat, suffocate the entire planet then harvest their consciousness and matter for energy.

They control the flow of money and have millions under their rule. They run drugs. They hide their wife's across the country, convince people to absurd things and purchase items based solely on the idea that this is actually the state of the planet.

In the red world people are literally locked in cages, chained to walls, have giant orgys in the middle of work, and keep people locked in tiny rooms. They do drugs to get their information and eventually crash and burn. And that is exactly what they are designed to do. Banishment.

But also inside this group is a strong subculture of artists, butchers and secret community venues with un accessible and unexplainable libraries of art. This world is filled with knowledge and community. From inside locked areas the red people can speak and do illegal things like in Shredders hang out, as long as they continue to work for the blue world, or stay out of the blue track completely. They can live like this is the only option, because it was.

Without money and ‘time’ from inside the Blue they cannot survive and often eat things like rats to survive.

High ranking officers of the red army have access to a map from which they can watch the blue members operate and move around the board. To get this privilege the secret government needs to verify your allegiance by getting you to purger yourself until you are fully controllable.

These maps can literally detect where each person represented on their map is located, what they are doing, when they are having sex, eating or pooping. They can literally contact any worker through satellite and you can recieve messages in different capacities with the help of many drugs.

From some locations they can even watch you on TV. In bars and on their phone some of the high ranked officers of the red army have different types of maps that can tell you different things and give you different features including communicating mobily to the mind of someone on drugs or with increased sensitivity to these vibrations. They can watch your every movement and orchestrate elaborate plans to get you moved to the red world and potentially take over your spot in the game. Some of them just want to play music. Some of them use their time to take advantage of people and some of them use their time to help. They have many absurd tricks to pull people out of the blue world and become part of their brooding red world order, either that or kill you and eat you. Hopefully you will come back in one of the underworlds. That’s what they tell people so they don’t have to do it them self.

Seriously. People are being harvested like cattle, turned into broth, then put into energy bars and bread. It started as a big problem until the artists came in. The ones who play music for their money and stay in the red world making it a viable place to live. They were the ones that took them down. The major corporations, the factories of death that once ruled The Wastelands of Lockdown, Red Town, where you can be locked up in jail or pissed on just for fun if someone outranks you. It is the land of dogs.

And it was all controlled by one map.

And now,

That map is in our hands.

This is a new Government. This is THE STATE OF THE ART.

It is nothing like the life of someone trapped in the game. Which is what they thought I was. 
But while you were going to soccer practice, attending classes at the University and golfing at the club you didn’t even notice the army of Truckers and Snow Hounds that has already taken control of, if not this entire country, the entire world. Not only the highways and towns, but the most inner workings of our government, all the way up to the president. And it has been going on for years. I mean seriously… do I have to say his name? Did we really elect him?

It is painfully obvious. I would like to see an enemy of the Army of the Red Dog get a job after they had been blacklisted in one of Blue Sections of this fine country. You piss off the wrong people, you go against the wrong guy, you fuck the wrong person and the next thing you know, your kicked off the goddamn boat.

The theory, in essence is in two parts. Part one. The illusion, and part two.

The Truth.

What is their goal? To create an excessive amount of force and energy with which to plummet our planet into the next apocalypse.

But I guess it's fine, like what happened to my 1428 year old, blue boy walker, truman show lover, and best gal friend. The Loops.

After the air becomes too thick to breathe from the f-150s, semi trucks, factories and nutjobs, apparently you can avoid that cryogenic sleep loop if you tunnel underground after the first signs of The Break.

You need to get underground until the air clears up. It's the last chance at life you are ever going to get.

If you're lucky, you’ll make it to that last generation, before the ozone disappears completely from all the holes,

the ones we made.

All that smog and the pressure we created with the cars and trucks, cows, farm equipment, roadways and over passes.

If you out last the smog you can make it a second round with all your memories intact like a rocket scientist trapped in the limited body of a tiny maggot. After 42 lifetimes things get pretty drab.

But in all honesty. The game's been treating me fine. Me and my best friend Peter played a little trick on them and while I racked up points and rose to the top of the scoreboards, he was hiding my stats and giving their the map the stats of his 5 foot long snake.

And now. Just like that. I am the Red Dog. The general of the Army of the Art.

Part II
How did this happen. My ex girlfriend works for the red world.

Knocked Up

Here is the story.

A cloud got knocked up into the sky. I got a few thousand balloons to bring me up there and see what it was doing. It said. Leave me for I will die if i go with you. So I left. When I came back to see the cloud later that year it was all fat and dirty. It was fat because it was knocked up so high. It was dirty because no one cared for it.

I said to the cloud, do whatever you want but I have my own cloud now. Now it has gone too far and there is no turning back. I already came up here and told you. This is the fork in the road. Sometimes things change. Like now. This is that pivotal moment and when that moment is over, I’m coming back up here with a blimp and we are all going to make our case. We already told you what was happening. You said you knew more than everybody. You said it was too dangerous. You said I’m the boss and I don't care what you think.

So after that we sued the cloud and I got half custody. And for the rest of her many lives that cloud was stuck in the sky alone.  Because one time, she didn't listen to the dude who flew up into the sky on a few thousand balloons to save her.


Word to the max. Fat stax and racks. I’m just sitting here trying to relax. There isn't a reason. I have nothing to say. I could move my lips but fish don’t talk. The TV doesn't interact it just plays. Passing my time. My time. Will come. I know for certain but life is to be enjoyed and it’s hard to enjoy life when your a slave in the frozen tundra. That's what the TV tells me. I like to think. I need that time. But that time and this time are dependant on future. And sometimes. It’s important. But sometimes. Time takes away your chance to make a bike team. I’m bored. And excited for tomorrow. But this shit. Is never. Going to end.

Eat Some Potatoes

Rinse lather repeat. Like a pair of tight dry socks packed into a bag with twenty other pairs of tight dry socks. Like a bag of 100 bags. Like a drawer full of strings, straps, and old belts. Just useful. In general. It’s useful. To have things that can help you do something. Something like sit and smoke. Drink water. Water the cows. Water the hand. Water the dish. Bike the body. Enter the void. Watch a shitty movie. Stroke the tomato. Hand in the flag. Put up the flag. Light the fire. Empty the dish. Throw out the trash. Fall asleep.

Eat some potatoes.

Sad Story

Here's a sad story. There was this guy who fucked children. He thought no one knew. Then one day the cops busted into his house and arrested him. After that there was nothing left of the house so everyone moved over to my house. I said,  I can’t deal with this right now but I will because I know this is bigger than me. I just wish someone would help me out a little. This is a big job and it effects everybody.