#ricoSacto

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

#LetMeTellYouAboutTheNewWorldOrder #AllJackedUp #WhoKnows #Jimi #Gretchen #Todd & #Goofy #MASHalphaOmega #WantYoNickelback? #TheHoneymooners #JackGleason

M.A.S.H.
ABANDON SHIP
 w.a.r. band of gypsies do GET DOWN

SsssssssssssbootliquorssssssssssssS

The border is secure, believe me, there’s no Trojan horses at our coasts, copy a holy montage
Murder your freedom by following the ten commandments & the one Golden Rule of old age
Yes, if you ain’t a teenager anymore, this is the medicine for you to swallow without a chaser
Lucky if you have ‘income’ & unlucky without a job or friendly face anywhere in your insight.

Wake up every morning in a field under a cardboard box for privacy, next to the RR track path
A switching yard a half a block from the first landing on home turf in utero, no way to know it
Accidental intent learned from the wisdom of the ancients, to be or not to be unconscious too
As you roam from pace to pace, through the gnarled valley of happiness and sadness’ screw.

It never was your fault yet you’ve been persuaded to accept responsibility for souless singing
Regardless of your slant of the heart bleeding on the Valentine’s saints to forgive mortal sins
Despair is out of the rhetorical question, end of life’s last gasp realized this years ago, winning
You don’t know like I know & since nobody knows, we must be nobody, it’s prodigal, my sons!

By the by, near coastal wasteland that no man has eye witnessed, it’s invisible to a third eye
Four eyes or even spyglasses have no effect on seeing atoms of invisible radiation, so get high
Check the planted seeds, the nurturing & DNA manipulation of the genome, bleed the salary
Higher than you can handle, you don’t want to go there alone, you won’t like a night gallery.

Meaning nothing more nor less than you’re damned if you do, damned if you up & down hell
Noodle this out, at One Origin, before your conception you didn’t exist, now you’re immortal
Come on man, use logic, subjective, objective predication to see the light, ultraviolet, infrared
I’ve nothing but a skull to show for this LOVE evolution from a zygote, I think ashes are dead!

No evidence of survival after the 208 bones can’t support your ambitious dreams of a ghost
Which is what moves you & everything else that’s alive on Earth, probably cosmic-wide too
No way to know it, epistemological uncertainty, a principle of the Unmoved Mover re-groove
Constant principle is a state ‘tween #PopTart bubbles in a Void, St. Valentine, love, MY Love!
by
r j j stephan, i
c.  Mercredi, 2-14-2024 Anno Domini @ 666 AMPST
HAPPY SAINT VALENTINE DAY
{ drafted for my sweet love C.A.S. <3 }
<3 <3 <3 

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

#SillyGeeseRock #RicoSuave #HeyHonky #TheGoodeFamily #JusticeIsButAHamSandwich

COMMON GROUNDED UFO BASE
Certainty of the fools who expect justice where none exists, here, now or evermore
Once existence becomes the issue with the living and the dead, then the gods score
As if there are UFO’s flyin’ around the solar system, galaxy or universe at warp speed
This ain’t no star trek or star wars chit-chat about pretenders’ worlds of divine greed.

Unknown “x” factoids are given as the premise for an honored blind faith conclusion
Skipped the facts about the dead skin and bones of our kin, friends & foes, all are in
For the Rest of the Peace, nothing gets to avoid returning to the dust of the star’s burn
Nothing but the ashes on Wednesday in Lent to remind you of your immortal return.

4 and 20 blackbirds baked in a pie, mixed with the cherry red fruit of the holy scat vine
It grows deep inside of the hypothalamus’ pine shape, which gunpowder factory is a sign
You need that for the fire in the hole, snap your necks of the elders & babies between us
Precious babies regenerate the species’ fool chain of invisible spirits, souls & idle minds.

Full of the bottom lines of the ends of the common fields we’ve occupied by accident
On purpose, we’ve caused a chain reaction of Fate’s electron activity, I’m heaven sent
Below or above the polar opposites of this and that, there’s nothing more nor less than
Almighty Void Black Hole Singularity, we sacrifice our herd up to you all, the Word.

Fools brought back the games to pass the time until the rigor mortis claims dead meat
Disrespect due to the liars & cheaters who knew the Known but kept Truth Top Secret
Strategic isolation of the prize of the holy seats of the undercover lovers of stupid scat
Manufactured by dead philosophers, poets & politicians who killed what they shat.

Civilized clowns and numbskulls who open cans of worms & then complain to the fish
Offering up the squirm on a hook, in the mouth, down the gullet & it’s on for The Ride
Jumping up above the surface in the belly of the beast, a moment flying, diving down
To fathom depths allowed before the final jerk of trouble, lost all fight, get outta town.

Surface to air, there’s water and rocky dirt, the entire remains of a Big Bang of Cool
Outerspace farther and farther from the center, no doubt about it, mama raised no fool
It’s a stretch of liberty to feel that you own freedom to behave without any regulation
You are consigned to morals, ethics & modifications of being all too human, a mortal sin.

Apparently, the first human born to the first pair of humans was a mortal sin, that’s a fact
Look around you, free country, fifty states, millions of citizens & an undocumented stack
Preface by total soundless silence, per-conception inside darkness, mother’s womb tomb
Brought forth what thrives a second or century for no reason,, just a lunatic on a broom.

Meaning without wings you can’t fly without being in the atmosphere, wingless angel
I think I’m a thing, I’m not nothing as might be expected, the whole shebang’s one Void
Forget about it all, every past event with every individual involved got disconnected
Suffering the whole boatload of terror before my eyes, I put God’s holy pain back to bed.

Media communication of data dissemination keeps the world turning, we see what it is
Without pain and suffering we can survive until the bell tolls, release sometimes is caput
Special needs adults living life by whatever goes #TikTok or even if it don’t, up the clock
Where the mouse went after beginning Hickory Dick or Ree Dock, you cause the flock.

Sheep as you are or the angels who interdimensionally Zen smack us on our two knees
One outer skin is so thin that it’s nearly invisible yet it’s beyond good and evil screes
I used to but I don’t any more, speak out loud as if someone cared, the Truth don’t hurt
Not me but it may harm the ones who haven’t read the reason & rhyme of my heart.

It dripped and flowed freely at my will, my whim of desire and need, I cherish my love
She flows upstream to the hatchery and stabs me in the soul & heart, below or above
On top is fine, laughing out loud (LOL) but I have done It, what will have been done
It’s all a come-on, quite a thermonuclear show, as if a sunburn means nothing but fun.

It’s a reminder that you’re mortal, a fool if you live thinking you will live when you die
For the sake of your species if not for your own progeny, if any, you best STFU yo’ mouth
Daughters of the sons of the fathers who all died without their egos & ids deeper south
Here ye, here ye, read all about it, headline is all you need to read, spell it & you’re Fly!

Hymns sung by blind followers beaten by their parents into submission, power to be bums
Listen to the words of the music, the melody and sounds of wind flutes & tom-tom drums
When it’s time, you’ll know, be wary of false alarms of Time &Wall Street Journal tweets
Here’s what your life on Earth will last longer than, an air bubble, enjoy the backstreets.

Getaway from the scene of the crime, y’all never get a reward for the crime & punishment
Hide in a cave with the blind monks and insects that thrive without light, all heaven sent
To lay eggs, hatch them & reincarnate dead bugs we’ve annihilated just like the Goliaths
More than ever before, happiness’ painlessness is sacrosanct, happy lives or gimme deaths.

Powder is dry for the powers that be, that my friends is you and it’s me, really can’t mix it up
Dependent on the creators to get me back my bullets, nobody will get hurt, it’s self defense
Thing of beauty, the beautiful that contrasts with the ugly, malform-face of muted makeup
Far out man, it’s gnarly as usual, a gift to gab not wasted, Now, this Life all makes nonsense.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mardi, 2-13-2024 Anno Domini @ 711 AMPST
{ Cached this out of the matrix while listening to @650KFBK @Armstrong_GettyRadio
Link @ https://kste.iheart.com/ }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.

#FAT_TUESDAY

Sunday, February 11, 2024

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY #LVIII #58 #MakinBelieveLiesAreTheTruth #BetMe #LetUSroll #BADbrim #HipHats #CapsNoPops #KnowYouAreALoser

VOLUME OF A PROLATE SPHEROID IS:
 ( loser ) 
+y2 / a2
Even on super Sunday in the springtime, you can smell the pigskin bleedin' in ice turf beneath
I know what you know, it’s a finite game with an end in sight, no allowance for a sudden death
Touchdown after touchdown, safety after safety, kickoff after extra points ad infinitum, it’s a go
With no time left on the game clock, it’s less than a second left & the score is tied zero to zero.

Six for the touchdown, three for the field goal, two for the safety & one for the point after TD
Hips get hit from the front, back & sides, above a pile & deep below the late hits ref’s whistle us
Toots out of the air squeezed through a tiny whirlwind emptiness, the phase of a blown penalty
High or low hits count on the quarterback and the penalty to a tackler is five, ten or fifty minus.

Regular bowl games are one hundred yards of theoretical, prolate spheroids’ critical race theory
Kick the ball, throw the ball, hand-off the ball, run with and fumble the ball, it’s two for a safety
Mothers died bearing the boys who played games, some lived & got a new house on the blocks
Either way, we get one super Sunday every year, today’s the day, it’s on from zero to sixty rocks.

You had what it took to get to the money game, high school, through college & infinite practice
Professional because paid with gold and a plethora of rewards for beating the opponent’s dice
It’s a roller-coaster from September to January & then it’s on, the big Super game of man-kinder
Points more than the other gets a double ‘U’ (W) less points gives you the honor, you’re a Loser.

Find out the secret and then forget about the whole thing, as if you’ve begun again from scratch
Nobody knows you or cares about you, you’re an orphan without siblings, offspring or any mate
You’ll go home to the heavens in a metal-wooden box, just a porcelain urn, Form of God’s farce
Bottom’s up online, you’re gone & it’s like it was before conception, Dark & deep up one’s arse.
by
r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, February 11th, 2024 Anno Domini @ 333 PMPST #SuperBowl2024
{ Blown out of my keister this am on #SuperbowlSunday jammin’ to surprises at https://youtu.be/D2E7ahH8zts?si=SJyq8P9NgUwTACci }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?