@FakeNews #FakeNews #PsychoPlaceboFoxsLockup @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

PSYCHO PLACEBO FOX’S LOCKUP

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, December 18, 2018

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I got your foxy locks right here you punk, baby gangsters on the block used to shout me down

Suddenly I rose to the top of the comedy troupe and became the next best thing to a frown

Dreaded fear of Nothing, being lost in the middle of space all alone, causing this here’s Time

To become a ‘Thing’ itself, a miracle of life in the Void’s darkness, a fait accompli, hard crime.

In the deep, blackness of the oceans and seas of the Terra Ferma unknown, a perpetual head

Of Nothing, deep within those bowels of the divine comedy of dreams, asleep always, forever

Way back when and sometime in the near future, you will be dead and gone, yea, I said Dead

Soul, spirit, consciousness, ego, id or the True Self, all is One and the same, whatever I said.

For the sake of the culture and the civilization of humanity, those who can’t will not, or else

But those who can must do the right thing at the critical moment of the pending doom bells

Ringing from sea to reflecting sea, pole to pole, the sound of music heard everywhere in hell

Where we want to go is to get away from those ear-ringing, unethical founts of pure muscle.

Function of the equation is the measurement of the volume and substance of the thing itself

Pick and pull what you want from the junkyard, put it all together just like a crew of 7 elves

Baby it is cold outside but I still want to get away from it all and dissolve into the matrices

Calibrated the notions, came to induced deductions that led to fallacious conclusion sizes.

Fox of the skulk exited due to being sick and tired of fighting, hunting, mating, being so sly

I wait for the hell’s bells to ring me back to the place I came from, my origin’s empty Hole

From inside an insidious vacuum of Suck and Blow, UFO rolled stones, dessert Nye county

#Skunkwerk of germans, italians, chinese and outerspace UFO crashes, secret ebb to flow.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER EIGHTEEN, 2018 AD

{ drafted while jammin’ on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra on youTube Christmas musical orchestration link @ https://youtu.be/MHioIlbnS_A }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HAPPYFIFTYNINTH 12-17-1959 @DeborahStephan @DavidStephan #TheTwins

TELL ME IT ISN'T IMPOSSIBLE TO BE...

sssssssssThisShitAintWorkingsssssss

...THIS'S PHUQYN’ STUPID!  I GOTS A .44

by the G.O.A.T.

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, December 17, 2018

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Well...I am so sorry to say that I know the end of the statement, let me dot your eyes

You can cross your own tees or go out and play thirty-six holes to the end of the green

Backs all have invisible wings that only god knows that China wants to conquer Guys

There are no guys or gals in China, they will burn all of your history, go #CharlieSheen!

But you won’t, you allow cyber espionage from the Yellow man because you own Bank

There is only one group of people who’ve ever lived on Earth that is safe, The Dead Man

Hundreds of thousands of sets of bones, the animal and plant homegrown here and now

God’s six feet under or sunken in Davy Jones’ sea-yard, undersea fish, chicken and cow.

In charge of banning, the nature of the #Moderator, in charge, playin’ chess with what goes

Like the head of the gang back in the soul’s city where only dark angels do what God knows

Freedom between the poles from sea to shining sea, dead-star dirt becomes an atomic glow

Turning it all around, wobbling the things that go from gravity to graves and onto death row.

Alrighty now and then, you’re born on this day, December 17th, 351 days into the calendar ‘59

But both of you zygotic marvels, D & D were 4 pounds total, incubated twin beauty so, “Fine!”

That’s what our mama used to say when she knew that is was hopeless to change our minds

Story is, one of you was born and the Dr. exclaimed before suture, “There’s anuder in dere!”

Well, the rest is historical, in these days of the twenty first century, “That’s the way it goes!”

Either you get lucky or you don’t, being in the right place at the right time with a tool box

Everything anybody needs is available while above the ground, human beings are God lox

Even holy divine has to eat itself because that is all there is, everything’s love, Gold blows.

by

r j j stephan, i { all DEAD-ICATED TO: David Stephan & Deborah Stephan fraternally yours bro & sis! HAPPY BD #59 ! born in 1959, & #59 years old, #BadaBing #BadaBoom }

c. FREEZEMBER 17, 2018 A.D. @ 5:05 AM PST

{ drafted while unconstitutionally yours, listenin’ to morons, idiots and the genii that spawned them on youTube, Drake #GodsPlan #ImUpset & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/xpVfcZ0ZcFM?list=PL3-sRm8xAzY8eG8kh_gjoEaZ-auPlvp8r }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ThisOnesForYouPops #MerryChristmas #JesusMaryAndJoseph #SayHighForMe #LipsTogetherAndBlow

 <<<<------------------------------------------------------------------->>>>

KUNG FU BLUFF, OLD DAZE NEWS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, December 16, 2018

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Trying to survive in rude, inevitable combat requires a steady, strong will to look for an exit

Woman needs the man, I didn’t create the genome, don’t blame me, it’s an observation, man

Think about where y’all would be without the dark womb nest of your mama, DNA donor fan

I’m among those that realize that The situation is hopeless and impossible to personally fix it.

I could never make a difference in the ethical functions of the DNA, I am only one data byte

Nothing and what I think I came from are similar to the dark womb nest of my mama, yo pop

You cannot make this state of the perception and sensational deposit of our historical blight

We have brought some form of mutant DNA to tabloid of the Alpha’s Omega RNA, hog slop.

Imperial impertinence is transitory, no leader or historical figure is allowed to exist beyond It

What It is won’t be so rude, it’s my fault that the Truth is y’all are random bytes of datum spit

Certainly, it’s necessary but insufficiently suspect to jump the validity of Truth, oh, I am bugs

Not that maybe, from the sky above to the burned out planetary, fake-ghetto hydrogen thugs.

Out of somewhere in the past times brought to the present, a teaching master’s golden lead

Becomes the iron fist of the dream that kills the germs which want to make all of us bleed

To the death we’ll fight to stay alive, eating the Earth’s growth from the thin air of a Vacuum

Once again, ad infinitum, it ain’t my fault either, neither of us are responsible, it’s DNA cum.

Done shot a messenger already? Obviously, I don’t have to flesh out the point, my rude Way

Crystal clear and without a shred of evidence, I am going to stay with my original ‘mama say’

Be a good man and don’t do anything to anyone you wouldn’t want done to you, know You!

Gold, Silver, Cash, flyin’ Bowery ghetto punks kiss all my bums dreams, “Hy-ah! Kung Fu!”

by

r j j stephan, i { *fitness, preying #BlackPanther eyes of the header above, you got it! Bite. }

c. FREEZEMBER SIXTEEN, TWENTY ONE EIGHT ANNO DOMINI @ 5:55 AM PST

{ DRAFT while listenin’ to the HITS of #CurtisMayfield #AintGotTime & HITS off of the #SweetExcorcist CD link @ https://youtu.be/n5huRfUgJhY }

 W.W.A.R.D.?