Human music!

Beep bop boop

I listen mostly to fart noises and remixed fart noises, so this comic resonates with me on a higher level.

It was the person that prescribed him meds, he said, but since he said he gets to talk about his problems, it’s probably both. He also had a breakdown so he’s recovering to return to normal life, so he may be getting more resources than average there. Great guy though.

Mario say no and jump over like hop scotch dip n duck dive o rama

Eat the sun. Simple.

Problem: solved. Give me noble proze for i have solvered the noblest of problems.

Then the dating pool I chase can now support me! Wonderful!

Only a minute away until Google starts a Soylent Green subsidiary company

I am a messiah candidate, obviously.

No, bro, check my long history which continues onto Reddit for twelve years I’ve done my educational art project. I had a breakdown in college and told my ROTC cadre that my nonexistent sister got me pregnant because I judged my father’s wrath more of a threat than the US military, and what happened is that I got MKULTRA’d and I write propaganda as a skilled righter, but it’s for the crazies of the world as that’s what I am and I was trained to be authentic and crazy is what I be. I think I’m getting famous 6/12. That’s my court date. It’s…difficult to explain what has happened. My CIA life partner has intentionally set me up. Johnny Tremain; I’ve been intentionally set up to teach me trust in the American justice system.

I just shave my pubes and staple them to my head and that’s enough to get a girlfriend, I found. That and a gun. That’s also a vital component to the alchemy, I find.

I have gone to several Thankgivings in my life, and yet I’m still losing my hair.

My psychiatrist sees me for fifteen minutes a month in order to fit in two hundred patients a month. This is the way the machine works, to justify all the expenditures on new facilities to tear down perfectly good old ones, because the people with the money here know what is best for the patients.

My psychiatrist only sees me for fifteen minutes a month in America. I have a friend in Germany that gets an hour a week.

Technically, y’know, Silvia Plath sends the word, we’re all dying, but you’re not dying the way Chloe back there is dying. You’re a tourist, and I’m onto you.

I’m trying as hard as I can!

Mostly I eat ass. Can I die now? Or do I still have to do the messiah ish, Dad?

This is the type os sofisticated emoji we use in Alabama

No, those don’t have internet anymore since AT&T decided to summon daemons into silicon chips. The only scientists I trust to develop technology is the Amish, some Mormons, and one long-legged, pissed off Puerto Rican.

I think there are right and wrong ways to do everything. Predicting the market. Lifting weights. Reproduction. But not art! There’s no wrong way too do art!

I don’t use computers, ever, so I never have this problem. My family has been without internet for years and my mother/sister and my father both agree things is better this way.