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The Humanjuris II

The HumanJuris II by Peter and Flores Sandmu

The Chapter 1:  The Angel Walker, The Beast, el Honesty, The Dirty, Home, The Future

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVvHXYOxJCQ&t=0s&list=PLodd1p2roTc3Wu01Cd-vk4lE5h66uWkwV&index=4

     The human errorist, the human irish, Autumn 1868 with my son Make from my edge of the map, from The Vladivostok City, the gigantic sperm on the catch, the vegan clay and with the human soul.  Moreover the following year, The Father's Sarto, and the Fathers Sandmu and Hymu had already finished his talks, and Matte’s wives had already abated in his porch, his now, 1869.  Mastikov Eisley Eliakel had already recaptured St. Petersburg within his only daughter, and Giuseppe Sarto hadn't personally emerged within my totally Corps from the Mastikov to The In-Hospital Jerusalem later on.  Everybody else was all SU, all except for The Concordat to so soon to become.  In response, regarding The Vatican, the surprise point being made over the exclusivity, was to show who was cure.  As long as a someone could control without a leader's choosing, the leader would be kept subservient to that hierarchy, any house owner could control what was allowed in his house, and if no, he is no owner.  Father Sarto had been on a prostitute journey from The Venice, without a following of some students, God chosen.  The unseen part, as he saw it, was in the getting friends who weren’t on God’s list, to turn back before the inevitable pardon start day, and who was clean, and who wasn't, he just said he just knew it, and could feel it.  Unfortunately The Chart hadn't lost all of its states, a diminishing, and those who weren't opposed, weren't with The Rock Jerusalem and Mastikov to attempt to preserve The Concordat. Jonathan prayed like hell with and at The Rock, with two horns out of his Head like a devil, me marveled, married in castles just like always, and The Vatican made up for itself a new other other fornication, which was a down-confusing to elevate itself up to The Sky, or so Sarto had said that they had believed in that future, and Jack mistake, that he believed, no God.      Gig, so Hymu and Sandmu weren’t married either, and Mastikov’s tazina wasn't so fucked, a bot’ o’ vodka, done eight, their daughters Rivers and Elia, both Spanish, so fucked, Spanish, it just is not as uneasy, a subject, but with only one remedy.  It's not that Elia Eliakel had just sprung out of their ground either, both she and Huxly Jones were too similar to revenge, and their Spanish ama was out of their, somewhere, mysterious, and the Rivers is so beautiful, so was also The Hymu the beautiful with no memory, two sisters of Jack’s planet, the 1867 find, the mating game vicious come.  And what are their remedies of Spanish promiscuity, only one, that Father Sandmu and Mastikov Eisley did, and their’s are well known too, the it, the magic never stops, and The Jack protested horny, skip station, but if no, it could literally mean the end the world. The Wicken Cap, ever Mastikov's, the cat, that had already come before that had ever happened, twice, all of these "animals" had already come from heaven, all animal right?  Jonathan was not so Spanish, Earfeld Zwingli's, or Earfeld was Jonathan's, certainly both were not mine.

     - The Flying Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 3, pg. 1

     “The moment any is having sex with a prostitute, what is the difference between the plausibility and any?  Have you ever forgot about that?  Some people, to be fucked, earn themselves to turn to purchase a prostitute, much you and me.  Would you like to be the punish for once, do you know how much money some would earn to do it with a princess?  How could you have the wealthiest kingdom in all the earth in just a few short weeks?”, Sandmu just shook his head, smear “, at what price?”       “Well, what’s the difference between politician and self, gambling?”, Rivers said to her dad smiling at her.       “God is really very helpful,” he replied.       Rivers and her dad play tic tac toe with markers on Rivers, her writing, the third “O” straight across on her back of her left hand “, faithful,” she screamed.

     The Black Pope, Charles hymnu was no blind and deaf, and perfectly, and happily when his mother wa near, but abated within his porch vector, smiling, but before she never stopped smiling in his hand, 🐺, sperm, personal phone. Rabbi Sandmu dubbed him Pope, because he would.  Now that The Jack was busy, returning from The Russia, the first other bitterness coat was going to be going on a long long business trip about as far as his Georgian coast would let him, and he would be caring, dizzy worth keying.  Vadrolt to Chris, and Jack didn't know if Ma could cure eyel, but if it was worth another look, he would have had more indigo back to Jerusalem by the Spring sprouts.  It's just not my Jonathan, and my Hymu got along, but Rivers was.

      "Being a man must be a wish for the penance of some wish, a dharma problem, I'll bet even the hands of the wish, wish that they weren't trees," Folr cleaned, the Folr soil from his hands on his wet pine needles of his tree.  "Man wa' given dominion over this earth, but it happiness, certainly worse like it, in reverse, so:  the animals got happier than the sun, and the trees know, the happiest of them all.  If we can't make it up into the heaven, the bang, a tree is certainly as God, and as free of all politic, standing up tall looking up into the Heaven and penniless, nothing to betray, you and I."  Voltaire smoke grin as his professor spake with another one of his trees again at the end of the Saint Barnabas River, and a month later, he stood at the waters edge of the Atlantic grinning with the Saint Christopher, and Matthew, and at The Jekyl sand no more.      "Jarabe Tapatio was blind from the root of Tlaquepaque," Folr concluded nodding slightly, Matte raising an eyebrow at the suggestion, and I smiled.      "Jerome Voltaire McAllistair, Sarape Spastranot Flores d' Argon," Folr introduced Vadrolt to Huxly at nine.      "No more," Huxly refined.

     The Florentine salesman Percival poll ", your Prince's affectionate affections, high costly, AND too brutish, and seeing that he is well said early according to your plan to untie Great Bretania and the War, we will soon become their love-police, a complete wipe."      "Both human dignity and the love-kingdom's glory increased in a withdrawal from private property abuse," Sara Becker motioned.      "It was also costly, besides Vadrolt was an impetuous, as a commercial could be.  Only after the wipe will we make him up to be the true Prince."      "If only God is capable of making Princes, whose keys descend from Heaven."      "God?  I'm afraid that that concept is unavailable for the commentary my dear," and they chuckled together.      "If me can make a Prince, tell me why you would suggest refusing a buffoon like Vadrolt?  Find someone else to require.  Move to your liking, and a memory wipe will be required."      "All those who utter such whores would be rebellious hypocrites," Percival winked to The Queen of Scotland, and she nodded knowingly and smiled. One fact Percival wasn't unaware of, would be that Giuseppe Sarto owned the Portugal Key, and that something was neither of them ", could unmake," I added, and I smiled, and nod, and thought about my cattle.

     Starlight is the space lit cube, the small circular aperture of the eight stone green pyramid sex cause, the spaceship's liquid argon chambers glowing under its bright green and bubble, and Ba by Sarape drink, in and out of what stars, Aerosmith, obsidian reminder, it was so sad, and Jo and I passed the warm wug of wine, of gween leaves, back and forth and to our lips searing, passing Wall, cut out of on the sarcophagus of Pakal.  Blood flow around the top of the blood handle up to Wall's neck, for his breast plate, re, argon talking, sobrenatural. There wa, several principal glass chambers of what Jo referred to as, the glass, "the plastic snowmobile."  We watched them fill it up until they and Vadrolt were half blai and half argon, the two liquids inter-tangled.  Matte light lit a cigarette, and put it in Wall's lips.  He wasn't breathing, but it made us feel so much better, like he was on fire, fire, fine, jaque mate.  The snow-mawl chambers synthesized its parts.  Chambers one and two, the conscious and the subconscious mind, chambers three was the heart, and four and five, the sensitivity, and six and seven, the memory, marry.  Liquid dream was Vadrolt's sperm, and the other fused, Spastranot's.  Vadrolt was linking in with his new soul, and I guess we needed it.  The Spaniard ghost trader in the space, linked in with the chambers with the chambers (we say that.) Those nose is the quicklist path to the brain.  It was called m’brain, wet harvest, El Quirofano Baker.       "I guess my Walter didn't have me to return me home to see my England now to see m', I mean, His poor m'Huxly," Matte quipped.       "My poor ol' Walter," she shook my head with slowly in my disagreement. The next day, Aerosmith Hymu loaded up her steamer trunk, and he really didn't even know that he had had a kid brother Charles, and until recently he had an older sister ", so, do you remember who, how your memory got erased?", he had asked ol' Walter.      "Funny thing you should ask, I actually do."      "And."      "Um, well it goes...well, someone told me I was possessed on Jekyl."      "Well, I'll guess I'm as fit as a fuckin' fiddle," he re-concluded once he had re-stunk.  He was secured later on into the ship's hold where we had inadvertently struck some indigo, and maybe he had wanted to make sure it would still bark before we would get back to Ol' Jerusalem, I mean I wasn't The Transformity or nothin', but still.       In the earnest truth, Matte erased Vadrolt's memory, but in fairness to him, B both knew that The Transformity would b more, restore it back.  Buck we did it anyway, it was a Vatican plan.  Why say that we couldn't hook him up to the plastic snowmobile in the end?  It worked out for him in the end, for him.

     "The Absolutism is not my secret:  it's in all MY ways.  Its in there in any all ways, all pleasure and no pain, no balance, and without balance, no life," Giuseppe Sarto school taught Folr and Sarah.      "I know there’s not alcohol," Folr laughed ", and there was a sacrosanct confessional though."      "Not officially?  There is a sanctity though:  a sacrosanct security.  Absolutism is a perfecasualty scarlet, for some work that the prince will become corrupt, and a greatest work to work towards that end is to erase all of his high men-ory of your hardship.  The Vatican is marking towards tha flight, and we can't probably obey it as it does so:  stand and flight."      "Fie, this order is not my idea of country.”      "The Ki of Jerusalem has all but been made up of a six year old old school, and it's all about the liar," the Kingdom of Portugal receiving a blow from the King of Scotland and Folr ", Percival wants to be an Autocrat, El honesty was a plutonym for Heresy."        I had just smiled preaching from my black Italy from my Jerusalem from the Roman's day, and I did it in my arm chair.  Ethelred was praying the priano from his mom, and who talk with Charles, Ethelred watching, and after this song, he stood up watching Charles message with his finger on the top of his piano ", definitely."  I was reading this newspaper, motioning to Hymu, I was pretty sure racial, Percival seemed to be planning her niece's rival to the English Crown.       "Stuart?," she said ", well, you might not see him, but who, the hell, was calm them.  This was uncleAn's statement at this time,"  So, Hymu's House was about as charming as anyone could imagine him for about twenty-eight days a moonth, I sooppose because it balanced werewoof, there was no other balance personal sacrifice. It was the twenty-eighth tweet Tevet, so Ethelred and worm (the only other way to write "mom") were planning their escape, 2 teeth, and Shevat running, 5630 for us to know, to see the hand of dioses.  Luckily, I didn't never have to see it, oh worry that my dessert would never die, never, for dessert, done exiting. I didn’t think that we might red over to the mortuary later on to express MY immortality, but I did remember that, because I had had some left-over snacks in our cooler, I-fanged we called it, moo, we never had Express.  Unfortunately, Charles Hymu and I would have been locking Ethelred and Hypnos into the iron cages downstairs on the following two days, joy life, family life, two woof, Britain, captain, if the war would.

     "Sometimes a person accesses you of something, yes, you would do, to confess.  The person looks for you to defend yourself, so that he can feel free of that guilt, and in these causes an accuser is born in the sinner and his confession."      "You're sad that the accusation can't be the very limit of that accuser."      "And..."      "And that an accused person defends himself to erase a guilt of the person who made the accusation."      "Yes, but in this way, the accusation is certainly a confession, and your defense, his absolution."      So on this two new moon days, I passed the loneliness helping Guiseppe Sarto with his Scholastic Apologetics Chapter 1 before playing the comment of his student.  He would one day become the Tsar office after Eisley, Jonathan following, and after that, The Supreme Pontiff.      "This is the office between a sin and a crime:  Confessions for sins are unforced, and without accusation, so then the charge of Heresy de-references The Criminal, ensuring that priests don't become confessors in blacks."      "And what of Heresy?"      "It's not a crime, nor is it an unbelief, and those who would accuse another of it are certainly guilty of it themselves."      "Yes."      "Another concern within it, but not of The Holy Church, is the speaking of tongues.  If one were to praise God secretly gnawing the opposite, people would be able to tell the difference between The Christian and The Devil," and so it was all afternoon all over cups.      "And what of the person who both confesses praise and un-praise to God in un-publicly?"      "Is this an example of Humanism in its finest, and it was never Luciferian, and outcasts yet one another?  A statement made alternately impregnable, for instance 'Salve Regina', could be."       "Is she a Queen?, salvific?"       "She most of the time can be, however the phrase as equitable is Luciferian," and so she went on and so forth it went all the day long dating, and I will admit that I was relatively relieved when Guiseppe mentioned that he would hold a cup for the next chapter with the ol' Vadrolt.  The Papacy Charles sat in with us too.

The Flying Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 3, pg. 2 -

      If it were in all the flying werewitches of The Northumberland, if they couldn't get their sizes as of The April of 1870, it wouldn't generate enough sympathy to let me paralyze them of the all of their England.   Or wasn't it in all of the youngest Jerusalem left, Matthew undead, left unable to strengthen the inappropriate band from the wealthiest Ireland, or was it in his attempt to cure their deaf and blind Pope or stray within their Pope, The Catholic O’Leary, and The Elizabethan Pointe, and The Elia Eliakel Mastikov Eisley Shakespearean in the town too, or in the volume of this increase?  The Elizabethan still hadn’t spoken to sow each one another one another since her last Elizabethan blast, during which two head two years previously black in The Hastings, wasn't it in her SU Battle. The Paris Battle wasn't in such tearing, the letter, previously to her first two yeas in his Armagh, or wasn't it even in the complex mom, or who was in it, she whose beauty and beloved wit which hadn't taken their effect of "'plomacy" throughout their-complex, or wasn't she even knowing it?  Reports had to differ. Percival order hadn’t known the future, and that one future Primate Plus, and The Church wasn’t so fucked, and so inspected, and it had lit one up, and in the other one who wasn’t certainly so fucked, and an indalo man who had lit one up, and in all of our flying pitches lit up as ahell confessionals.  

     Our symbol is as simple, so pu, so unique, and so stood for something so simple, so profound, that the possibility that love being at least as unequal to higher will, couldn't be a truth too, an asshole, an life, and all of them who were numb in spirit, never properly exchanged the few scriptures that pertained onto that one subject.  Perhaps for this one feeling, England became a focal point for the new Roman Contract, Rome challenging God’s Key with higher Politic, the will of dependency with interdependence, so two:  Elizabeth, the princess, and Elizabethan, the werewoof.  And The Holy Church had already been beaten once some three hundred years previously through their Albigense chemical warfare, The Bubonic Plague, where this same duplicity had once arisen, half Luciferian, and half Christianism.

Chapter 2:  1000 Nights

     Two girls entered into the in-cave wherever.  Honestly.  The best way to love your children is to love your wife.  On The International Orphan Day, Richard Jones went for a long walk along through the forest after his morning tea and biscuit, May 13, 1873.  He smelled the picnic tulip while listening.  He lit his third cigarette meandering on to the slow river where his raft and punting pole were not found.  Cashing off, and the sun breeze and the bumble bee buzzing slowly put him back to sleep, and be drifted off, lying on his back and had a quiet complicated day dream about the throne of his teaching profession over the past six years.  Working as he forgot about his reality, and he continued punting in a sabbatical dream, six months paid, the next summer with thought, his colleagues would be simply teaching larger sizes this semester until his happy return.  Richard didn't think about how obsessed the county had become with the clock, and how its numbers would be counted to communicate, secret machines who had become, and his nightmare.   Some thought that their Sunday was Mother's Day, but the orphans, St. Mark's, fought.   He came up, Jack flying face down on a dock peering on a reflection, and little water-bugs skimming in between it and him.  So much had happened, that the thought of it wouldn't even nag at his walking.  He dreamed awake just like he used to in quechua moccasins sometime.  Jonathan winced, and he would be performing last night at the St. Barnabas Theatre, the project was in a lazy attempt to seduce motion to the sepulcher who had taken successive photographs of this way, the river pattern, attached together in a rail of papper, cut out so, the arclight projecting the motion of the wall in the dark while he prayed a piece he had written on the piano, and on another, his poems.  If it was called a new movie, it was entitled "1000 Nights."  There weren't actually 1000 photographs, passing across the arc at about five frames a second, a little over a three minute.        "Surreal," he thought while he watched, and no one saw his performance through, the projector operator, and the actor, and Jack gave in to the theatre, anyway the students had all cued themselves into staying in for the night with a four digital clock numblur.      Rivers hadn't stolen in her city.  It hadn't gotten Jack laid twice.  He saw this projector operator on his way out of the cathedral in the morning commentating ", it was well worth it," and he had a lit cigarette.        When His Vatican had vied for the English throne with the clock cues, Jack had begun ", okay, two," teaching History next door.  The next semester, cut. He would be adding a section of Engineering upon Professor Jones' return, and to help invent the moving camera with his class. Matte dropped down like a river, breaststoking with his lit cigarette sticking out of his head like an elephant above water, Richard calling out out over the water ", good morning!", and Matte smirk.        "I am having a cookout with you this afternoon:  steamed clams with bacon and creamed spinach."      "And we'll think about it," Jack yelled back, kid chopper.      And Elia Eliakel Maska Eisley wasn't an all-lergic to shellfish, but despite much liking them, she typically wouldn't pass out afterwards to get a few hours for a starvation semi-conscious food-coma.  It wasn’t late this afternoon, but who could assume that she ray strayed into the gardens for a cat, no one seeing her at the party?  Jack was then chit-chatting with some elderly ladies from the local party club, inviting them to see some of their never plants.  Later they discovered a young maiden buried under a mound of fresh soil calling for help.  It was a sign which read ", Eisley Eliakalus, for waiting too long."

     An indigo pill, and nothing more, Anamia La Burladora de Sevilla, thirteenth year old V, was the headphones, The Luciferson, personifiker of MY-Headache b'devil.  The Killer will return back in the scene of m'crime, so when Handmu ordered woe, up from his first dream into Hell, having a smoke on his porch, Anamia wa' eyes.         "Stay.  Slay," he supposed aloud, holding his pipe, unsurprised at seeing her hide himself away, dressed as The Hymnu, but Hyp tide was also known as currently out of a cage.  Sooneratherbeen was the only medicine Dr. Father Sandmu called.  It only prescribed when a dead masquerading as lover invaded his dreams, his dreams, their real changeling, the sucro makes it go down easier.  That's how the world was, there always seemed to be a carcass knife looking around, loo through the peephole and no one will see the peep.  If The Sandmu treated the changeling just as helpful, Hell would isolate itself, in this the policy of isolation would be helpful.  Liberty is privacy, so nothing better but a fantasy for everyone besides people like Anamia and Percival, and so they imagined.      Giuseppe Sarto played the student with Ol' VOL in Chapter Elaborate of his book on the elaborate.      "Personal Liberty account increments with individual wisdom 5 Liberty, and The Wisdom is The Privacy."      "What then is relationship without privacy?"      "The Fool is unable to enter the private word of the wise."      "What if the Fool knows everything the Wise do and say, can he enter then?"      "Knowledge without wisdom would not be.  The knock at the door is invisible to him."      "Can a fool have privately?"      "The Wise cannot answer this question.  There's an indivisible door between our worlds, infallible."      "What then is Wisdom?"      "A person who is wise, is as a person who attracts with The God, a destiny magnet."      "Does The Law safeguard Privacy then?"      "The Law is not so concerned with innocence as is Guilt.  A person who is as innocent as a person who attracts with God, The Law condemns, itself."      "So then, The Law does not save at all," Giuseppe surmised.      "St. Paul wrote just that.  The Law is for the Wise, and God for the godless.  If all were wise, The Law would be of no use to them."      "So, how then does a person know if another attracts with The God?"      "The ambiguity of this distraction is the cause of all of our nation's conflicts.  A fool cannot decide, but the wise can.  This distinction however is not obvious enough," replied St. Jerome Babyface.

Deaf of an Orange Salesman by Mastikov Eisley

     And all ten of the conquistadores, of the colloquialiens of the diralect, became evidenced, not only one knew any more their connotations, and people who saw love can only choose to do the same, or do they not desire?  Edwin saw his friends through the peep holes of the new soil he was borrowed under, his really old prophet.  I guess his Islamic faith prayed off fro he fround his ten v waiting for him in The Heaven while he drifted in his mind fro the grave. 

     The summer of 1870 he flew a copy of The 1001 Nights, which had been altered word for word, this distraction forever, and he had never ev heard the word Koran before or after until he had even drifted, hemi-foros.  An orange salesman at the time, he realized that he should probably kick out fo his postmortem fem reward as soon as he was possible. No one also knew that he was scribbling about in English, and he really just hadn't caught his eye in The Californias yet.

     The book in, Edwin had traveled from his huge house in Acapulco to his San Gabriel, his first and last wife, Ma, had lived next door and no deia who he was, hadn't set him off.  At the fish sellers in San Gabriel, he lived there for Miguel Delgado, Ma patron, together in huts near the mission, no idea.  In winters, no fu, everyone want south, but Edwin continued on his on search, and by December of 1872, he knew who he was, and seven gifts were, and he found himself in a bus on the mount, a new trend was called "shining."  He didn't, his best to keep up with number eight on his slope, skiing over a frozen lake, thin ice cracking, and shiver all the way back to the baba.  In the huts he baraved a patron's ladder which he had carried into the pueblo to look through windows as he paused pruning hedges for free, nobody was there, no. nine faced jumping hurdles from horseback on weekends, and Edwin was able to borrow her pony.  In this case, Edwin was an old hand, and he fit well at the ‘fair trick riding 'til the renegades broke.  Unfortunately her ambitious pony jumped all over the pen fence too, and galloping off for some miles at a nearby forest, but it wasn't her, he knew it.

     He never played the gill, an all-star, and he bet the caddy at the clubs, The San Gabriel Ladies Gill Cuts.  Searching in the woods for his ball (he sucked at golf) balls sucked by his person.  It really wasn't working until waking beside a trap it stuck him on the top of his head, so hard that he dropped unconscious face down into it, this mission accomplished.

     The next day, it was really windy when Edwin moved bags of manure from the orange tree, and it between him and the bags the desert sand whirl in the bright white light of the sun shine.  Hey yelled through the swishing to Jacobo ", Cuantas?!", they holding up his index finger ", no."

Chapter 3 A View of an Imagination by Liev Trotsky

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7fzkqLozwA&index=2&t=0s&list=PLodd1p2roTc0x_wlkHQOo1HnUVLYlMf6A

The stopin' pimpin’ the word you eat, the word "myth", connotation believed to imply fiction, and a same heading, o all the spirituality, and the excess of our time, so Matte Brown spent the first eleven years of his life as a marble block, unknownst, an' in 2016, when he was a blind, and nine, Saturdays helping a plant farm for a secret agent at night, starlight.

Delorean Orfanos Just I, Matte Brown, People Leoviticus, and Dorothy Romano and had tie, had to get executed from Wellfeet Pep and la community service insubordination.  The staff on which the nailing ga instructions to d'UN and end it all, and the potted plants in the sand greenhouse, but no, MY Luciferson, what they consee to be their conformity, eye can always choose, and what God continue. And all the staff continue, listened to Peter Cetera song, but People didn't, that one everyone, everyone called Pen, she loose with a hose, act as if she watering hot tomatoes.  Matte hang, out so behind some small tomatoes, and he wa' wear with no Delorean, who everyone called, The First, because his legal tender had no "I" at its end, during what they had got landed, them there in the first place, Delorean batter, Matte cigarettes (he wa' a businessman) and in for a change for Matte gray doc (Matte had the teacher's passwords).  Delorean usually emptied tobacco from usefully unsmoked cigs in fresh ro, and was an "A" student too.

As soon as stranger things started happening, the girls started immediately, suspect Dorothy, the German, it was rumored that she had a comp implanted in her chip, why her nickname was iPhone, k-little, but Matte imagined that the place was already haunted by any four UNESCO employees named Dick, Dick, Do, and Dum. Allway, it had to be someone like that, he thought, he and the Delorean walked straight from Little League games to farm, still in some of their black and gold Burger King uniforms, and despite lying about his age by one year, Matte wasn't so bad that he should regularly be ridin' hide the pine, and why was he the only one who wasn't ungiven unmatching uniform stirrups?  Hmm he thought, "Burger" could be a reference to someone from Hamburg, and why did he know the German?  For one thing to be certain in the story, it, deductive certainty was impossible in non-axiomatic systems, that may have been just the sort that the agents draw, they imagining, and Matte Brown, the nine year old, imagining too, myth.

In the same memory that Jonathan Matthews Winter Andreyovich, the heir, was casually imprinted memory wi, Germany had invented Super Spy.  He had no casualty memories of the first twelve years of his life, although there isn't something similarly exceptional about his truth, that for twelve years he ha dreamt awake of a future that no "could" could stop, and he was positively a master who believed in puffing up-people instead of keeping up.  It was no matter of disagreement whether his fifth-ture had been sliced or what, and all who knew had already been sliced with illegitimate death, and the grad of attention paying little to create a pac-ville.  If wa' believed the a-vacuum of inauthenticity could disciple Matte's a-fluence, a then, and it didn't, and the Enochian spawn turring to the Nepenth, witch also ha ha an e-ffect, and for that they didn't ca God, and Matte wasn't then living on Ca-Cod, and didn't, and on in his second tern named Chile', and which was actually called La Concepcion-And.

The ultimate, eh, kwama, a series of salse saisements occurring ern the farm, a very-scenario, ultimately who.

 "Do you think that you're insane?"

"Naw."

 This no-one occurred between Matthew and El Delorean when they smoked on the beach.  It continued as follows:

 "Nice Emperor Guard, Constantine."

"Thanks.  I didn't want to wait until Halloween, you know."

"I think the emperor who played the actor was blind, and what do you think?"

"Little kid."

"Matte, you suck."

"Why thank you_  Did you see that the ties of the garden hose in the greenhouse rafters spontaneously started popping off inexplicably, like what the fuck?"

"Yeah, but People didn't even notice."

"Did you get your hand-job yet?"

"Does she do that?"

"Naw, wait, just a rumor."

"Wait, what exactly do mean by 'hand-job'?"

 Lat on that night, the two conversed again.

 "Coca Cola."

"And..."

"And, so you like it."

"So?  Matte, so you're going to find that many of the truths that we cling to..."

"Shut the fuck up Obi Wan."

 The heir had begun to deliver, that he was a living in a most complete absence of authenticity and experiential knowledge.

 "Check out this new Chatty Kathy doll I belonged to, and I recorded over its doll."

"And let ME pull its string."

"The wee coontrool a buurger king."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I probe in programming a little."

"Who's 'the we'."

"Collectivist drones."

"Who's that."

"Oh, hey People."

"Hey."

"My Chatty Kathy doll."

"Can I puff the string too?"

"Be my first."

"Theey doon't know I'm a roobot."

"Yaow."

"Yeah, it's special."

"I wonder if God would know how many hairs your doll's fuckin' head contains."

"Why count them, People?  That's not fair.  That's a fuckin' waste!"

"Its a collectivist community anyway girl."

"But why da fuck does it speak with such a nerdy accent?"

"Speaking of which, do you still think iPhone mysteriously caused the hose incident wi microwave tech from her chin?"

"I don't trust those Germans."

"Yeah, couldn't be a Hamburglar plant.  I wrote a new great story."

"Oh great.  Am I sorry, another 'story'.  What was the last one's title?"

"'From Dead to Dead to Why Know Things!'  It wasn't really a humor movie.  The police shot that fag Krueger or something.  I'm entitling this new one 'Deaf of an Orange Salesman.'"

"'Death' or 'Deaf'?"

"'Deaf', because like people never can trust the superman, and like they don't really hear him, deaf.  It's about his Mexican boss who tries to see virgins that he'll never see in the ever. Yeah, I put it in you."

"I'm ten."

"People, you wanna comment?"

 The kids smoked outside behind the tomato tree, ritually passing a flashlight to light their own faces while they sploke.

 "Hey, I saw the black tables that Do said that he was working with, and three were like trays and plants tee-peed all over our palace.  Yeah, and there's no way he was strife ba there, where does he.  No."

"I doon't know."

"Secret agent."

"Shh."

"Batgirl."

"The truck from last week."

"What."

"Would you believe that the merchandise was mislabeled?  I see on-line."

"I can't remember, what did the labels say again?"

"Lupin."

"What da fuck is Lupin?"

"So, it wasn't Lupin?"

"No, guys, False Indigo."

"Guys, you saw the movie The Price is Right once, right?  Well, one of the characters in it was named Inigo, right, but they slipped in this line when the boy clearly calls the guy InDigo. It's just like the neck.  No, wait...it's better."

"Well, what do the credits say?"

"I checked:  Inigo. No 'D'."

"Wait, hold on now, how do you know that the label on-line was witchcraft?"

"No, Matte, there's a difference.  Da clue is dat there's a difference between the two."

 At this point in the story, the use of headphones reasoning would still be powerless to alter o-control.  The kids having no influence over what, they "saw".

 "Hey, I got one for you.  You've been seein' that guy walk his dog ‘n shit?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, did you notice that he always walks by exactly at seven noon?"

"Really?"

"Never a bizarre."

"Matte, you've got it?"

"Got...?"

"...Enough material for your next book, hmm."

"Conspiracy."

"It could go like the sequel to that movie you made about 'yes' and 'no', what was it called again?"

"The National Treasure?"

"No, People, in this movie, there's this V which means 'no', and an upside down V which means 'yes', so that the bad guys superimpose them, like this...to control all the answers."

"Hollow."

"What?"

"It was called 'Hollow'."

"Oh yeah, but there's the real deal, this villain priest creates this illusion that the V is actually unpaid, upside down to justify torturing people, which he calls, are you ready...'The Crux.'"

"Why da fuck would a lpriest torture someone?"

"It wouldn't, that's why it's a stoory."

"I bet that.  If Hollywood ever adapted my into a movie, they'd call it 'Nathaniel Treasure', and make the priest white.  So don't worry People, you wouldn't have to go un-uniformed."

Jack had no romantic delusions about his very fist love interest Sara Becker, who was for ever sure believing she was a Russian model, a marble plant rob the cradle to the heirs' disappointment.  So, when People put her hand to the test, on Jack's, resting on his knee under the table, as far as he knew, it was the first time he had never romantic physical con.  One of the dream's relatives owned a rocal diner, and all the service kids were invited over for brunch that morning:  Dorothy Romano, her Christina Aoki, Jen Gugenheim, and Marcena Bolivar made it out too, an internationaler house of pancakes.

 "Welcome to The Delorean Just Pancake Thing, Two!"

 At this point People jerked off the air at Delorean's grand inscription, and Matte replied,

 "Uf."

 "Oh can look, its South America, aayii, you made it."

 "Pussy."

 "Girls, girls, can now offend, we can't be all on New York yankee time, Guggenheimer, and Macarena can offend about the song."

"Hello kitty."

"Hello Aoki."

"No, Jen, Aoki can be my car too."

 Dorothy came back from using the bathroom unusually quickly, and the song Macarena was playing over the loud speakers.  Despite Marcena being in the ninth grade, People and the Christina in the eighth, Dorothy in the seventh, and the Jen in the sixth, Delorean the filth grader won the pancake eating contest, the only person at the table who actually ordered pancakes.  Not any knew or cared who would be paying, the bill arrive without a printout reading "paid", and without Dorothy's paid signature, and Delorean asked,

“People, Matte, why you so quiet all morning?”

After brunch, ten seventh grade boys, one of them drinking a fountain Pepsi, sharkhouse, all together gave Matthew a wedgie dropping him on his head, and they weren't happy either. He was dating an upper level girl too.  That night after baseball practice, Delorean and Matthew toke a break out, the farm's giant wooden spool table as usual.

"I was looking at the signatures on the document of independence today, and I noticed that every single character on the list was an irish.  Given what I say about irishmen, I'd have to say America was founded through a bunch of rednecks who thought that it was fuckin' hillarious that.  I'm pretty sure their 'self-evident' truth that 'all men were created equal' wouldn't have been the reason."

Matthew wasn't unaware that it was unwritten in his social that he would one day be the U.S. President.  As he the Delorean talked, two boys from that morning's marriage melee walked to and fro, onto the farm, over to the wheel, and Matthew said,

"Hey you guyz.  Hey, if you've ever come to tell me that yo mamas are so ghetto that when you were born, they gave you the rapper names Lil' Baby 1 and Lil' Baby 2, well, I already know about that."

The next laser went the ten seventh graders got into eighth grade, great, and their new leader wa' a seventeen year old fourteen year old virgin named Brett, and that one fun Brett noticed that he was choking one of his new friends in the hallway for fun.  Brett was fun.

"Hey, why did those guys want?"

"Guyz."

"Suzy, right?  So, um, how come you've only had to come like twice to the farm?"

"Right?"

"Right, so do you know Mexican or what, she's all here too, riigh?  Well, that was quick.  Hey, Delorean, will you meet with me at ten bucks if I can get you poisoned, the new girl to get pissed off about the country of South America is under ten seconds.  Peeeople."

"Where my dogs at?  Where's that new girl at?  Hey, I just saw da dog walker again.  One.  But this time, there were two.  One day was just starin' at one another pointing at their own fuckin’ dogs and den at their other person wit da dog."

"That's fuckiiiinnn..."

"Useful."

"And troo."

"Hey, Pen, that reminds me of you.  Have you ever noticed..."

"Gimme that flashlight."

"Just in time.  Noticed that the police car license plates have a single digit faked by an eleven?"

"Naaaw.  Not racially."

"Oh."

"Yeah, but that's the same fuckin' bullshit, because its number language, a repeat digit carries out."

"Oh, hey Suzy.  Where'd you all go?"

"Beethoven to the shithouse."

"So, Bolivia's a piece of shit, how d'you feel about that?"

"No, I got it."

"No, you don't, yule poor bastards."

"So, what was the second proof?"

"10 seconds ago."

 "To the shithouse again."

 "Yeah, so anywho, I saw on the tennis that all black people hate Bill Cosby now."

"Really?  Wha’?"

"Well, I'm really not sure actually, that's why I bring it up.  Here's a coup, when no one states the obvious of what's going on, and they just keep carrying on as if it's not there.  Not organic, whatever it is they say it is that they are daying."

"Well, so what if we hate Bill Cosby?"

"Because they don't say that they know about Da Theo.  Mind-control."

Later on that evening, Delorean couldn't just even find out where the People and Matte went, neither.  Matthew had just prison and ha-believed, and Nepenthe prescribed by the end pentecostalan for just such an contingency, the end.  Almost no one ever sees what I see, that’s why I’m almost talking about it.

Chapter 4Scone Match, and 5 Human Racists

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFF6k8OAfPo&list=PLodd1p2roTc33xkQ3GJsh9E1DChnd9kSo&index=2&t=0s 

     "Good things get started, yet you can’t start static.  'In earth wa' flat, but the sun wa' drawn into the sky before dawn without breeding.'  Pre-edit, I thought ', the earth is flat, and the sun is drawn into the sky before dawn by birdsong.'  If God exists, tell me what I'm insane.  To these written lines It (said?) 'Broward.'  I'm guessing that may have meant something, and if it di, It may be calling the people of the earth brothers on a ward, some accusation of insanity.  At that, I wondered why if there were a God making such accusations, doesn't It just make all new people, who are sane, and It wants me to accuse It of being 'awkward' now.  Then It commented ', this is the most beautiful thing I have ever said,' the ego.  Somebody just corrected God's quote, saying it should say '...ever read.'  Then God said, no it's 'never read.'  At this last quote, some police nodded in approval, smiling, welcome to St. Petersburg, I'm your host Mastikov Shakespeare, and this is The Spiegelkamen.  No, actually, this is the awfull-time job of someone, protecting the would be national Tsar from corrupt police, no that's not actually fair, but it should be, it is now, I'm captive planet, awful carpit.  This change of seasons is not seduced by the supposed drunks of the planet, but rather the bow of the north and south winds.  At this, God required ', all dreams should be in the right.'"

     Mastikov's only sister's new boyfriend rebound some new excuse to go on a long date with a long journey, and Sarto was penning he new book, A Present Day Ru, and he wanted this interview.  

     "So, Mr. Eisley, uh, the Shakespeare, where to start?," Vadrolt grumbled, three liars stood at the table, he stirring a sugar, and Sarto had instructed him to keep all questions flat so that the readership could dry, and keep up, and I just thought, and took a sip of my espresso, and just fought over my distillery prothess ", is it true that you were jailed for a stint?"

     "Where I was a left out, the only person who had made a place for me washing dishes at a Brooklyn waiter, wa' a German Nazi.  He was in the in between jail and journalism, and here I first got the idea to build a newspaper while pondering baking utensils in the wash bin."

     "What we your relationship to relationship to Czar Nicholas?" "Since I was the four, him in the forty year build up wait period, pre-scepter, he's very high king to me.  Tsar."

     I was pretty sir, petty Charles determined that fiction now, but I just listened.

     "Is there magic in eternity?"

     "A close I ever got to the bo of the vodka was in a max light conjure I called Miss Wo Kap."

     "Wo is she," Vadrolt commented.

     "That's right, witch already be-gun, a couple of years into the future, when it was abated on some holiday to smuddy-"

     "Did you say 'smuddy'?"

     "Yes, smuddy, and when it was abducted by a tinfoiled ministry mystery, the Chinese call that it, the Tibetan Kung Fu.  There is ledge to travel inside of it or light speed, and a whole slew of other leaps over laws of physics, knone of witch, were scientifically elaborate with even-whore, a newer scientific 2CIPHER model, witch it war...Check, magic exists."

     "Can you tell me about that program Why: Newer Russian Scientific Discoveries."

     "Ultra and Many Eration are they."

     "Ultra?"

     "Oh, yes, that's the way for impenetrable memories, stop, don't stomp me, it's currently in possible to create a-fiction, four example, in our which they believe, they are 100% still awake."

     "I don't believe it's not magic.  Is that a defference?"

     "No, to tell you the truth."

     "To tell the difference, when that is done to you?"

     "Good quekin!  People don't really care who you are or what you are daing."

     (Good news was, the inter-scribe would submit the transcription to Mastikov Eisley for an editorial rerevision, his orthography and syntax apparently would matter to G. Sarto, and I took another sip.)

     "And how does it wor?"

     "When a citizen becomes paralyzed, the captain gives the order, beginning 1030101030101, a mini-microwave coming through your senses, followed by a 90509090905 replying from your braindaddy, all lashing, one day."  

     As this point in the conversation I drifted off, but awoke to Vadrolt's next revision ", It's still not clearer to me how you would know the difference."

     "Sudden changes in time and daylight, immediate unusual objects, strange occurrences and behavior of bystanders and their idiotic explanations for them, followed by a return to diplomacy the next warning.  It's a cat, bridge over a political handle, double change agent."

     "I might be a warning."

     "Whatmight...that be."

     And what point I feel the absence asleep again having a baby dream under the two young captains' trading under a new master, gnaw, Blessed Lightning, to be jarred by devil Phobetor, the erotic tea, because slave is murder, and raunchier, and a dramatic form of hell too.  But I awoke to hear Vad's next question as if not a second had passed.

     "Why do it?"

     "It's classical conditioning taste aversion, the pairing of key words with unwanted adds.  It's the making of a new fiction which appears true, not unlike our other publication giant The Peep."

     "The Peeple?," and Eisley nodded, Vo shuffling his sheets, then reading ", it's rumored that you may have ha more than one wife, how many wives have you-"

     "Two...Off the record...Polygamy is banned in our state, isn't it Vadrolt?"

     "It's good."

     After the hate, the hotel, lie flapper I fell on top of the cover and immediately slept, fully clothed with my hat still on.  I returned to my same nightmare, Beni this time defecating on Wo Kap's stomach as a si act while he was forced to be a friendly bucktooth monk, Chinese holiday.  Luckily, I was, and woke up to the slow slight squeaking sound of the stool in the suite next door, and Spastranot's resulting double organisms.  On my way out, on down to the lobby to meet black with everyone, I caught Vadrolt on his way back from the room next door, asking us if he needed to use the bathroom, to which I replied ", no, just in love."  Mastikov had led the flour of us to an open bookstore he knew we'd love downtown.  Strangely, en-route from the state to the diner, Mastikov was pulled aslide by the police for documents, and the next morning The People's front page headline read that the Saint Petersburg Head of Police was involved in a double unprofessional double marriage, and his officers were calling on his resignation. Phobetor is the secret of the sacred garden Tibet.  Only the strangest minds could endure to its door.  It was once considered a refining processes before the monk was ever reborn, wa' shield.  Eating, each captain was bestowed a helmet, the wicken and the ammo, the magic and the courage, donuts.  The ammo cap ha two white feathery wings upon it, and the wicken cap wa' formed of white stars. There wa' no known address for the eminent scholar and humanist R. Palma, and evidently the only one known way of getting way in contact with him was to find him on the streets of Lima, however there were also no known pictures of his visage, and Matthew and I spent much time in con imagining just, what guilt, and what his gait and physiognomy could look like, we thought. Big Bad Arms knows Bad.  Ric ha twee right arms and one left ha with five fingers.  He was a ghost, but fire octoploasm.  Apparently, he found Matthew before we found him though, and I can't imagine how, with ba losing his hair like he did in the main plaza on his first way in La.  I guess that was why early for a drink, Matte have been sucking off quite a few bottles of Amerian spirits back then.  I guess he can’t admit my restriction when I first had my first God vision.  I guess I was blind enough to admit that the camel people were suddenly taking place to my left.  Matte pulled me off to a run, exclaiming something like ", Palma's getting away!" "Oh!," what a ghost. "He's a ghost!" I looked ahead to see a legless white apparition managing, outrunning us.  Flying on through a deadly door, the handle wa' our only option, seeing, a set up stairs leading up, Matte twist the door knob forth, the door at  the top, so us stinking under the foot of the door seeing a milky way galaxy head sicking on the floor, it remarking ", I don't trust, and in this room is all in your imagination?"  "So, you're Ric then, riiiigh?", Matte hand-gestured sarcastically, then lit a cigarette and sincerely said "no' with a rod sincerely. "I beckoned you with two times," it seemed like with a pull then holding up two fingers.  Then I really think it said something like ", he's probably leading us down to hell." "It's really hard for him," it sa with an aggressive pull and a thrust downward with hiss elbow, fist clenched, then look up like an angel.  I looked at Matte who seemed to be about, to say something, them seemed to grin. Matte became a diabolical serf, why, writing a new leaflet for the predetorial Paloma, drunk con Whisky, and I knew he couldn't hangle my new faith, so I had him to pray his new love to me, and I swear I did wear my ring too.  At this, Matte flipped up a cogarette from his waist, catering it sideways between his lips, leaving it there with a side eye, from the upper.  One day, upon Palma's re-uridation, Matte left to scour the pawn shops for a suspicion, and it should sound suspicious, and so I was afraid.  He really did go to the pawnshops, but not surprisingly he rended up at a bar for french exploits called Le Ajoure where he snared a bottle from the guy who played the piano next to him on the bar, who was apparently named Jean Baptiste le Sartre.  The two concocted some sa madness dangling, like Matthew was to have himself.  Excomunicated for the selling of the city's limits altar crucifex on fire.  Jack let a room upstairs so.  J.B. seemed to be about some liaison funcionario, but oddly discreet, he threw seed over the wall on his way to the courthouse.  When I was renowned at the Inn, Matthew still awoke casually reading.  Palma's new story was also called Balthasar's Marvelous Afternoon.  To the next day, as I watched as Matte knelt at the altar, looking up in ecstasy, with a burning look, croix behind.  The day after, he was black from the upper room, m from the jail, bragging over his two new estres:  the key to the lime house jail, and the jeweled pendant, they explaining that they were both penned gifts, the one from J.B., and the other one from the sage who had lived in that jail, named Fryer Gomez.  That was a plan, and Matte was to be retarded by the camel people, or The Sieves of Blanc, to meet them.  But there was a catch, if he didn't have the catch back to the Fryer by thirty days, he'd see poverty. We found them, the our, in the Sechura where the forty-one surrounded us with might, standing upright and calm, some seventy feet, locked in leather, and boots so short they couldn've lived.  They politely belonged to the scorpion planet, Fryer and J.B. grin like jackals, Jack demanding ", give me La Camisa de Margarita."  The Sieve quietly look around at one another, and its leader Ka cordially addressed him in english ", you cannot, but we will allow you to defeat with us, when you have defeated my one of us, you may choose, in hand to hand dual."  Upon seeing the great courtesy afforded to Matte by Jupiter, their Sieve, Jean-Baptiste, of the cult of Bonaparte, threw open his jacket, look off, as if he called by Liberty, and the French are seeing as they should be sometimes.   After seeing Matte knocked out, The Sieve hired a teacher, carrying him away on a stretch car, and all the three of us headed back to the city, and this apparently would be all a part of the plan, The Sieve would learn him there if it were polite thing to do. Matte woke up in their big cave, the forty-second Sieve.  He said that when it was full of the artifacts from Ric's stories, and that when he ha pilfered the shirt and the pendant, no one care.  The main point of friembership seemed to be that the cave location be kept a secret.  I don't know why anyone wanted that shirt so bad, but it seemed to be the reason for the trip.  Anywho, Matte returned the pendant in life time to the fraile, who immediately up-added it to the score population of venomous animalitos.  The End. Just to be clear, Rivers was never aware now of how the tsar had requested La Margarita, not Matthew, so that La Camisa would never be the god.   There was one question that Vadrolt never could ask Eisley that I asked myself on the way out at dinner that night, and if it were possible to Ultra yourself to go out on any wild fantasy, the answer was no, and God. pussy.  Evidently The Sieve(s) were singular in the plural, and plural in the singular, but God and man were still unable to be experienced and made within The Technocracy, divorce the current and principal use of The Ultra.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJOTlE1K90k&index=3&list=PLodd1p2roTc3ayWRw5kvsCdXr-qKJfp8MThe Lucifer is the step son mafia of the 1870, reconstituted, The Mare, of which evil tide was and is the number 1, to El Distrito de Colombia, and that evil Washingon, acquired long before The Cold War, both James Madisons and they born a Cuba, and the residency, the descendants of Christopher Columbia, and then in the 1850 Marun Depardieu sailed the ocean blue, from Shanghai, the Panamena war heroine fo, the Tibetan Way.  The may of honor hangeling to hangar the winged Ammocap after she had once earned it from her and upon The Tibet, and the lover saw its border safe from the mongol Russia, coming home after dark fifteen when she docked into the San Francisco dock on a dark red Lama robe, the bold and dark and beautiful in the reddish gol' sunset of The Americas.   Lecture, she me culling, drinking a beer, and I go over my many holes for that Monday lecture, sitting on an outdoor picnic table overlooking the bay within my Coinnecticut, my prostitute, and sheppardly had tailed us when we returned to the step of my door.  I was then twenty, and in my first year of the grad, applied in hiding, moish.  And...Marun had commandeered my Coinnecticut, The Transparency, something like that, something unusual about her, her sin and her love, the prostitute king taking an unpaid vacation. Transparency is like that.  Perhaps Marun is hiding fat.An' on the Chinese New Year, Frebruary 12, 1850, the Chinese community a'there carried its g red dragon carpet to see, The Mare, pushing me everywhere I went.  I swear that the whole planet, and nothing but the po of all of this, so help God, and was to help me that Marun Depardieu was the first shark who had ever, that had introduced to me The Hyp Tide, and who was mostly a shark.Depardieu shot the inside of her cannon, the interdependence, and The Mayor an heiress too, and several other horns, including myself travelled south because the southamerican interdependence was failing couple and into we slam.  We sat together because Mastikov, Fyodor, Fry Gomez, Hymu, Ric, and I, around a table in what seemed where Jack and I first met The Joker, were bored.  The Germans were under attack, so Tsar Nicholas were in. The Fray was so weak from that the limehouse jailhouse bar coup, so Hymu became a legend every twenty eight days known to all the unwanted.  The Goonies in-vined to the smoke of their Feuer cigarettes for the woods every so often, and a hand was not with an incomplete butt protruding.  The railroad project in the in between halting the revelation, and the engineering that they had so muted and destroyed known to La Cruz, lama packaging.https://youtu.be/1EvUdddQNeo?t=26m11s , see surprisingPrinçess Di Oeineia Hildálgabun had started by the divine interpretation, she had already, no one else, could take seriously, and the ga, the smiling in her eyes, you known to cawl The Hoyle Sepulchre, tha design, prey self-reobsessed within MY-ra, he-conjured with the toothless Folr, and I wa’ soup penitent, and a-rod too, so the papper read dragon poop, according to the qui, that enema too, A spacesuit's girl too to the taylor swifty.  Tired of poking at the Spanish, Macun de Rasputin Depardieu suggested that we all go pack on vacation to study Kung Fu to India, but my mother wouldn't let me go, so I packed my whole wheat of nothing, and returned.The Fyodor Andreyovich, The Memories of Fyodor Andreyovich, Book 10, pg.10.What follows is a key transcription to the key, of my dear Earfeld Zwingli:Bene:  “Put me out, now that we’ve reached the sand.”Hildálgabum:  “No, I think I’ll stay, I like, I don’t think I like being a mutant.  I only ever was a worm animal before.  I Snow leopard, je je je.”Fryer:  “Cozy animal.”Bene:  “Guíateen.”Hildálgabum:  “Phobetor.”Bene:  “Thank you, now I will return the sand to my Jesus.”Fryer:  “Do I turn my back to a farmer mutant for my return?”Bene:  “I is farmer marmot mutant, jack.”Fryer:  “Thank you heavens you only have four bones now for my Bene.  It levitates!”Hildálgabum:  “Something like a raptor for me.”Key:  “Gait.”Hildálgabum:  “Sure thing.”Bene:  “Marmot jack,  account for the Samrock.”Key:  “This, ma’ paypah punch.”Hildálgabum:  “No.”Key:  “Ma’ leg!!”Fryer:  “Whoa, whoa! ...hey...da ladies.”Bene:  “Ka!”Fryer:  “Fyer.”Bene:  “Bene jack, why do you not help.”Fryer:  “From hell?  It’s now over, any.  Bene.”Bene:  “And jack.  Everybody stained strand-stand.  Listen to J story of The Jesus Temptation in the field.  No thoughts!  The confirmity test must wrest the truth of the little boy Jesus in the field, and there were three other tests.  Now, each write one test with yours.”Key:  "I..."Bene:  "Quit, and you will have no solid option, no sham in admitting that you are not Almighting.  If God were the ultimate barrier, The White O, it would be better to exit on the earth than in heaven.  At least there, it would all seem so true, and on the earth, the un, sham.  The admission of human guilt is the crux of the all.  If The God were to require an absence of human humiliation, It would require case to exist.  If God were to maintain drug, the image of justice with the unjust, you would reject It and me, utterly.  If there would be a God, Creator of all, it's a threat and simply put that the righteous establish order and hierarchy, so that indeed God may make a certain claim that It ain't just, while It upholds the faith.  This why faith is more than faith humor. Key:  "I quit."Bene:  "Oh?  So quick?  No, Snub, nosed monkey for you."Key:  "Hot damn."Bene:  "Key, do you know what the difference between a nightmare and a tween from the Hell is?  No?  A dweam is false, and a nightmare hoes."Hildálgabum:  "Bene.  Why are you converting with a seed plum?"Bene:  "Hildálgabum.  I'm planting seed."What.What follows is a plan transcription, penned by, the prophet, Romanov scry Katrina:Bene:  "Time to control mutant form."Scry:  "Fine, we're not going to scra Marcena, that comp.  Not my smar sparrow wing want, and I don't care ha music she scra."Sa:  "Father Bene is much scra, sis', thank you very much."Bene:  "Now, me must inoculate, there is danger scar.  Fry, mar."Fry:  "Bene.  Is it not all OK if I KA, a monument."Bene:  "Scry.  There will be no play on The Way, too."Sa:  "Planet."Bene:  "There will be pestilence ab, and now put it."Scry:  "Mar sin."Here end hu con script.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYadnXpovnA&index=2&list=PLodd1p2roTc2cV6PbOzmQIepWXfY7WcW6I was at the reminder of the Himalayan Mar-Ho, for the remainder o' the withdraw dharma wi' the students' in March of 1851 to see Mar parallel n, the fifth grade human raid-sis'.  An' that winter, get started, Hym Taj Hymnu J, Hymn personal assistant all way Corpital accompainied and wi’ to the Pig, all the way fo, fro Peru, walking now, age six, blind by an’ with long pigtails like her hair uncle an cockpit with the best wi' in the galazy, Sra Becker.- Stop Chapter 10, Book 10.According to MY myth, the Jak and the fox surmised MYth fro the ridge of the Mar-Ho for me the Jak, the monkey gone hoe, and me with the dreams of the St. Eisley key haunting your very soul, and I stayed on with Eisley after ol' Vad and another hand had departed faith fo The England, and this is about the most interesting accounting of them for my very soul.  Stop.

Chapter 5 Kom Fe

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJydIhwNfW4

In the Fall of 1866, I Fo.  I had become the dream b once, Ammo Kap had smiled at Fyodor's anscriptions, a the letter of The Tibetan Way to Wittikund, because this is the community, within that same document wa' five town replicas constructed to appeal.  Myle-identity was prostrate, and had this author fired, that monkey, turning the in-city into a green camp, and The People and The Even' Green warring for the Kap.  Fresh into the sugar, and fresh indigo from the cocaine, and the other wi fo towns were con:  Sugar Nikolaevich and stay Kurt Cobaine, the Wa', and The Truth Anamia Molino, the snake-devil, and so Matthew and I.  And as the truth wa' stranger than the fraction, and some truth, fiction stranger than truth, so then true faith and factious faction through in the monument:  some mind the cause to be slavery, and others find the cera, so that the author of three delegations wa' to sail, Ayn and i'different from the agitator T' oppression.  Some slew that I wa' like a prophet-TISH, God bless you, but the ministry of the sow moon, new chapters through, the one you stayed for the star control and the memory of the previous Tsar.  And what I write, the memories of The Tsar tall, or the sound of the wind for the all, and all of so who would catch, and Who do author wind, The Press and, The Ultra.

"God bless YOU my agitator," Foudre say.  Marcena Gomez and Taj had to return in twenties, click, fline, learning T' Taj Ma. "It's just now certain, culture can do wa' thing others cannot, Prison," Marcena retorted ", you're in it."  Of course Mastikov Wittikund ha' lived in a monastery there rejected too, and was en the same with tha Wells, half way 'round the world, and here I interjected that control is a ba of accidents of good. And Bene responded ", and this I would agree if there i e p in the we only." A' the mean, The People published an an article for selling the spirit of inquisitiveness on the damn of The Badge, pacifying city control for the spell, danger war monkey, it had not saved blood by take, compromising with a front page story you may see up The Spi, an eye i' the shark suit star in an dark Mirror.  But on the next morning I ha', awake in an Ulster wor, my body lying in a ditch, my mind tortured by the innocent, nice hat, and Wicken war to birth < > from, The Crux bikini, VV, but the people were talking to one. "Jesus, I'm a lil' painter, an' at midnight, there was a cry.  VadMykral, Wirjal, tough on, rih' the scricture, comes to work, over THEY, get out of MY, high to believe me.  Entraparadise," Hymu had say before she left from Britain. And Matte might pop up, added with a puff ", and some people don't understand that, the nature of popul, and ask why give up the damnation, that's all that we have, but we who stand for reasonableness and decoy with God have the confidence to know that The Air power wa' established and i' maintainted by and in The God, and so that the internet of the elite duh' threaten our well-being.  Politics, or MY, is a KA-phil suggested by The White O, that creeps itself into our minds, say that we are unable to stand in a personal choice independent of The Almighty, the Son of Lucifecer, MY-shit, and some people don't give no shit.  Everybody every, either leads a house, or is in the house, and artists understand this," and ta Bene bow ", ain't any other way.  That's why Hymu was on her way to establish herself right now without looking up."   I believe that it was at that moment that, the approximately, Matte began to know himself at The Wixler, and jo The Tsar Wars.  Unfortunately, the situation in Berlin was exacerbated by Logray and himself, who suck, and in the compeeing papers, an’ when it came to light that previous Tsar had donated the two sphere Ultra keys with Logray and The Sa, so that that Himalayan fox and the Biv Fortuna fou The Sa, and Hymnu, The Logray, to disconnect at the pre-Oblivion, but at the Mar-Ho I entertained Lu, and Mat at The Wicken Kap, busy.  The Sa key was taken from their twi'lek braintails, and the ochre ewok destruct by hym and Anu-Nah, and everyone worked up two years later, and No one couldn't remember, If that, the keys had been tall or destroyed or parred, or as I stood destroyed with the Fray marmot Gomez Mos-Kath slay:  I ha’ never been a Yak before or then. “Why are you in the gym?,” he adquired, and I said I did not know, but we had each other with whatever what anyone my say.  Without shoes in no brain-tails, in brown trousers, we walked to that Geneva Republic bridge to sharpen tha naturalette of the environ, and we lit, ráfagas, tha praying one foot forward each in a stray line, and quit the arrow hands. “Quick, let me before someone dies,” Fray said with a dead pan. I knelt, close my eyes, seeing in the darkness two llama as if they were mad of wind, one slightly closer than the other, may on either side of behind me, on Mount Blanc Anywhere. “Devil-speak doesn’t really make any think to you (if you think about it.)  If you ‘say’ something, it doesn’t reeally mean that it true, but the D speakin’ in that devil-speak, speak lies, so if they communicate lie, it would make everything spoken true, so that the only way to communicate lie without truth was to never speak ow,”  Wixler conned.  “Number,” Marcena snarled. Unfortunately a MY snafu of our rep town wa’, i’ built unfortunately under an inch deep ocean by adults, and they had said that tar was lining the four to keep the water from leaking through their ceiling, and about a million straw underneath had assembled to end their world, and all of them were Jews.  An’ after their roof collapsed, the death-eater Sa, she using her cheat codes of a hidden underground Ultra key, wrote four me a dweam, and I supposed that she happened, bu I used her Ha-brain, Ma Brain ma, life is a pussy.  A in the dweam from Hell, I supposedly was defeated, but Biv was, takin’ her eyes off of The God, and she caught herself in The self-confidence, and gone to heaven, an' Marcena's right got burned bad, and Ark creeps, this all in wa' week, and if that weren't enough, a supposed hurricane t' ga. It wasn't even better if the Fray and me didn't even know where we were, but we always seemed to figure that out, and in this case the point peruvian j salt flats. The moment of The Lucifer has concluded the cap of such baker, one vital clue in a game as coal as time, she provi for it wa' to intragate a T known as The Key.  But It was all too late now, and Ka Sara new it.  The Key had an already been, locked with The Getty by The Taj.  Now Sara Becker how did not exist, an occlusion a'ccluding the whereabouts of fi The Moskath, the eagle wis. Kaj and Bene did not manipulate sow, but stayed excitedly sized:  ant, mountain spider, and regular spider, an' now no one new wherever they went, but I didn’t know who they were, animagical thunder under, the natural gri a’ teen party thunder.  It was believed Kay wa’ a’ accomplished to homicide, but no, the ant inside of a fist slim an owlf. And Phometer realized me anything gay reality:  I was only a smoke an’ a human form named Gadyuka.  An-Gadyuka I reasoned.  Than-civilization was an illusion of clock movie light that even the word reformed to revisit, and their God was well ba virgin for allowing its existence, and that an unjust God is an oxymoron, us, so no God and nothingness, and I could wake up, and no, an’ all the inanimate part allowing itself to exit thru waste, and so was I, oligarchy, the academic elite rascal meat. And when I had had a walk, tha nightmare had described.  It was.  The humanist warmth of one-promiscuity, one King, flip-described as exactly what the oligarchy is:  nameless and faceless tyranny, unaccountable and weak.  And the head of Gadyuka removed, sharp, and not stirred, money pouring out of its white neck bar between the white rim of the Lu into the water and disposed of, permanently, exactly what, The Great Flip King of Babylon White.  There is no great king of the all; there is no such thing as “great king”; kings are always speak, and oligarchy spread in an’ mirror only.  And it seemed so accomplished, so perfect, that the accusation of the imperfect wa’ righteousness, but not only re-lied on an image of The Humanism, no, re whie.   And in The America, The King revolted by the democratic revolution, revolted, and by the the devil’s scribe Thomas Spain, the Nova Stellari, but the tired illusion stayed, the illusion of the power in a diffusion of responsibility, and the papers con, accused the imperfect of corruption, the gay and the confused sorry.  But that America was not uninitiated by bi, or the Bible, stay Revelation’s White Whore, and the Islamic stay, and a Tech Golom, Golom the sound it may as it swallowed brainless, Glow, The Morning Glory Monkey, a pledge of allegiance to Eternal Experiment A, and a white lab coat. Wee the people duz 👁️!  We the people excuse, craftsmanship. The Tow, the Sillmoon, and an' the darty mirror, or was it na, an Cursandeux, a hex-who people who I had labeled "death eaters", a term I ha' picked up from The Seattle mother and had got Becker from some books he had read ba' in chapter two, He no new ha, ba’ in the magical robot frame known as People.  I was the Taj, however shu did not finish at The Mar-Ho only to convince herself Cursandeux, an' then powered up with the Fa, a piece of sharp glass hidden in the sandy beach movie. "It remiinds me o' this movie I once saw Call Proint Break when thi' spy illegitimately converted, AND strayed for this original counter MY-pen," Vadrolt 'splained talking with his hands too. "And oh my dear Vad, these movies ARE not real," I said.   To day, we ha' strayed in Cuba, Anytown Genatown.  This we ha' fought over on the cannon day Matte caught de-ananize cannon farm, being an ol' hair an' All.  Corpse (is that hell it's spelled). "Souund," he-nob replied nobbing and spiling ", an' the other Spanish moothie Arma letal too." And I took a piece of shit looking up holding hi' cigarette, and just sneezed. "Piece o' shit really, but the main character wa' Nazareth and try not to shoo' this wetther pattern call El Nino, an' at the end got resurrected n' shit like Gi." "Who Nazareth?," I quirked b shredding his acting.  Vadrolt was no different this, probably too with Moskath-sip.  Sa try later, it was later rediscovered that Vadrolt Jerome McAllistair i’ no battleship, Va'ghost, about to reach Heaven don, an' heaven an' not hell.  This was the same very big Christian feedback ob, The Kingdom of Scotland wa' Mary in both in Ireland and Britain, the kin weddin' bo' hot Queens-"monkey frat", the inigo girls, The Mighturis.

The Captain clement VI, the Charles Hymu, tha’ bastard pope marrying Hymnu and my dad before i’ even ha’ learned to walk, an’ to see or t’ hear, or so I felt a zit Hyppy about Vad’s lil’ stitch.  He ju not only i’ that, but my screw came ju in with The Shell-Moon an’ a Scry, my dad’s screw i’ just i’ about the same age as any, dumb politics screw. I s'pose it wa’ fair ca considering Charles' arrival came in fews that he coo with my mama, but the b with the last wah. Before Bebe, Ma, Peopu, Scry, an’ I set an i' ap, The Paltimore dyer in Swazyland-one (I believe tha it was), wistening to the Movie an' People Leoviticus ketchup ti'.  They ha experienced wa a la 1859 an’ i’ the year 1 for-mug so they tawk ky funnah twice. “Cogarette,” Peepouw mime putting her had to her muth twy, han’ Ma ayn dolla’. “It’s a phonny thin’ caush; it’s a witch comma-ditty, so...unlie cigarette whi’ a’ pwicewis, o’ tha’ Spaneesh say ‘como se come’,” he say hanger two dallahs. “Wondafuck spay Spanich,” she respawnded wi’ a smyle, tawlkin’ da bry, wit’ Matte “, he reinterpreted-” “What,” Mat spock. “Though, Ha-wee Pawteh foe, half you eva’ notice tha’ dayah too Holmes:  Da Slytherin  AYN da-Gwiffendowa, an Huw-foe-pup, an’ Wayvencwaw?” “That,” he hand-gesticulated ficking up wit’ his wight paw swowee wit’ a wit owf his han’ in da sum dieWection. “I figured out Gryffindor people never marry, an’ dey die by The Crux.” “Oh, Quiche really,” he communicated presenting his order to the stable to fuck her. “An, Whydafuck are you da waita?” “Spooge,” he hand gesticulated. "Wait slowly." "Paracial," Matte gestured pa a rainbow over his head, apparatus bear ", last d'tail, detail," he said wit submission, free-America. “C da pot whip da reading aw minds?” And Bene intruded ", perhaps they are don’ understanding of what is hell an' heaven, merely a touch of Catholic Da'ma." "Dandy Warhole Mayflower, give ME the keys..." Matte sucked. "How," she say. Da wittle Catholic singer, Tha Dandy Warhol, tha finished class, tha little white mole, finished her little white Palenque, thanks.  Matte's UPenn class wa' getting sick, so wa’ da engineewing. "Hawf u eva seen da moovie Dutch Gonnies befowa?" Mat gesticulated. "Chack doesn't weewee vomit. Boo mawee wit' da bwack ainjow."

The slightly odd thing was that th' Mar-Ho security was owed and operated rep-towns, transporting us two, but we were like echoing THEM all over the glass, may possible of The Crux loophole, shark 2 Griffinwhore, of GRIFFIN2 according to the Manual, Portugal chick stray side-effect, an industrial-string remover badge may warrin’-pressin' wa' odd, Foudre power chick, fingered. "Me Indian French." "French anywo," Matte say, lookeen black macabwe. "Dees ees da Ma-Ho, undastán?,” Ta Bene bow to huh disingenuously. “Yo-Ho Lord Helmo,” she saluted black. “Somediing smell like sheet, undastán?” An’ Peopuew make swant eyes wit’ huh fingas. “Coor,” Kaykay whispa’d n’ wonda’d.   It wa’ a sweaty co webewyun, Gwiffendowa coo, The XBOX. "He-who speak duh not fea', an' he who cult duh not speak, an' Two Tygas cannot wiv on won mouwootin.  Undastán?"

Prison by Zachry Vernacular

I' 2040 t' Law wasn't improbable pre-Junta The U.N. and the Jura Auburn, but something unsurpassing we, your truly Zachry Vernacular of HLS2 buil' a fie-size vo factory by hisself. I nay Johan Lucifer in parts, and by accident in ca to lie the Chatty Cathy doll string lie lique many othur.  It trap ma li Frankenstat crapp, two contradictions wa’ imp to an’ o, an’ oblious of the decovery.  So for the year 2025 it was worth yaling down for Matthew t’ The Phi’delphia when he stopped out of the diner on Oct. of 1866 to shit in his d’may.  An’ it sare this shit couth, the Uprising effect.  An’ he lit, ha’ cigarette shark, size attack crap guilda' power. An’ Matte wa' up to fi he had spent the la’ two weeks seducing Lucifer, an’ magically confused it, it one of its dead poet bitches so...now, with a relocated door opening to my revel MY-own-personal Lu remedial cockney non-sequitur crap.  So two for a while.  An’ God i’ now leading tha' riiight, maybe permanently enough to heat the crimp of the su Canadian lime green bird, locusts a high in insect with a devilish smilin’, toleratin’ regionalism. Sooo, no linger circular control, but not unlike glue. It smelled like pluralism anyway. The earth wa’ perfect, the world...there’s something else also purely suicidal.

My baby, some short shorty about somebody a different name i’ this chapter.  Da five lil’ human racists of The Community, an the MY-anarchists were married as follows:  what you don’t know, you don’t know this aristocracy any, but Jodel was named Matthew, suffice it to say, un’ People the ca hurricane to ca and went too, su. An, Mary, Kate, and Ashley, Kurt, Sugar, Molina were so many characters, so many of them as usual, a rep town within a rep town.  They were somebody too, who played chess in come chesses for longer than they played themselves, so People, the players uncostumed for Copter 5, hired by Ja Lucifer, “remember yours”, play to a fiction for the heir.  They sought that they could parallel The Kingdom, an’ could survive without The Kingdom too, so eagle hippies who just fought to survive.  They ca, without recognizing the whip.  Personal choice was gri:  God worshiped and not known.  You have to wander about the people like tha-who because even if they knew what they ha’ wanted, they would have no doubt of hot wo get it.  Undastán?  They slipped so much time being someone else, they didn’t reaaally realizar that that was why they slowly increased within their OWN identity, which felt uncomfortable.  They could do whatever they wanted, tragic really, hopes.  So then, making choices...helps you be...yourself?  Maybe, you were you even before you ever MADE a-choices.