fuck this job.com

I've been pretty much accepting my "Now" for many years. Otherwise I would have gone stark raving mad. I'm vibrating incorrectly. That must be the cause of my negative prosperity. In fact, there is a man not far from where I live who has his own website about vibrational space travel.....

Many followers, and legend has it that one of his homemade spacecraft vibrated itself out of his yard and into the wild blue yonder. Well documented. YeeeHAH! Somehow, I am inspired by this craziness.

I'd love to beleive in this. Hell, I'd love to be able to become a cult member, period. This would free me from any responsibility and allow me to drink koolaide or what have you, and if I were male, have my balls cropped off to board the mothership (shudder).

Unfortunately, we live on the planet earth, where no vibrations make much of a difference and no motherships are coming anytime soon. At least not ones where balls make a difference. Thank God.

Vibrations are a valid scientific concern, but in the grand scheme of prosperity, they are inconsequential. Period.

Might as well pull cards from a tarrot deck.

1. Whenever you get a new job- hoping that it will be better-
2. it will for three weeks
Then reality sets in
people look like they did at your last job
Your boss , who once looked like a genius because your last boss was an idiot, you discover...is really an idiot.
The office that looked so big- is -in reality -smaller than your last office, cubicle, etc.
The Universe has told me that until I am 65- there is no good job- not in America-
We are worked to death- fucked- unappreciated....
And those who like their jobs...probably work from home.

You sound like the fruit-cups in matching suits wanting to read my Thetan levels for the small price of all my material wealth and freedom along with picking up garbage around the Scientology compound while Tom Cruise and John Travolta throw Big Mac boxes on the ground in front of me and tell me that L. Ron Pedaphile Tax-Cheat would clean it up or face the wrath of Lord Xenu... I already belong to a cult, The Esoteric Order of Dagon where I worship slumbering Lord C'Thulu, King Nyharlothotep, Yog Soggoth, Dagon, and the Idiot God Azatoth. By the way, I'm being Lovecraftian sarcastic... I would like to punch all the clowns that run Scientology lately, because I think they're the ones that killed Isaac Hayes, that man was too healthy and hooked on life to have gone naturally. C'mon, The Duke of New York in Escape from New York, the Shaft Soundtrack, Me and Mrs. Jones, Chef on South Park, you couldn't not like him. As for vibration, it's called resonance, every particle from the subatomic to the longest molecule vibrates at a certain frequency. I believe you can shake a cable-stay bridge to rubble by marching a company of soldiers in lock-step at just the right Hz, but I don't believe vibration has anything to do with destiny or attitude, unless you claim to be operating under disharmonious, therefore destructive resonance. I'm into Super String Theory, biochemistry, and behavorial cognitive theory myself. I'm ranting again, better rap this up...

Two tablespoons of cinnamon,
and two or three egg whites.
Add half a stick of butter?. Melted?
Stick it all in a bowl baby.
Stir it with a wooden spoon.
Mix in a cup of flour,
You'll be in heaven soon.

Say everybody have you seen my balls
they're big and salty and brown.
If you ever need a quick pick me up
just stick my balls in your mouth.

Oooo suck on my chocolate salted balls
stick em in your mouth, and suck em!
Suck on my chocolate salted balls,
they're packed full of vitamins, and good for you.
So suck on my balls.

Quarter cup of unsweetened chocolate,
and a half a cup of brandy.
You throw in a bag or two of sugar
and just a pinch of vanilla.
Grease up the cookie sheet.
Cause I hate when my balls stick.
Then preheat the oven to three fifty
and give that spoon a lick?

Say everybody have you seen my balls
they're big and salty and brown.
If you ever need a quick pick me up
just stick my balls in your mouth.

Suck on my chocolate salted balls.
Put em in your mouth, and suck em!
Suck on my chocolate salted balls,
there packed full of goodness, high on fiber.
Suck on my balls.

[sniff, sniff, sniff]
Hey, wait a minute.
What's that smell.
Smells like something burning.
Well that don't confront me none.
Long as I get my rent paid on Friday.
Baby you better get back in the kitchen.
Cause I got a sneak'n suspicion.
Oh man baby, baby!
You just burned my balls!
Help me, my balls on fire
????? baby
my balls are burning
give me some water!
Pour some water on me!
my balls are burning
oh my goodness,
I'm blow'n
I'm blow'n
do somethin-ahh...

(Issac Hayes as Leonard "Chef" MacArroy: Chocolate Salty Balls)

Wage, your talents are wasted.

Resonance....lol, yes.

Harmonic resonsnace in fact.

Lovecraftian sarcasm is probably underappreciated by the masses...in fact, I'm sure it is. But never wasted. In fact, I have an entire shrine to the Idiot God Azatoth in my rec room. Candles, incense and the occasional human sacrafice. Ok, maybe not human, I burn a few mosquitos. After all , there is the whole karmic thing to consider.

The whole Scientology thing can take a long hard suck on my ass. Because it is what it is. And nothing more. I've read the books, there is no real mystery there. It's not even good science fiction. When the books came out, or at least when I read them, I was devouring pulp fiction of all kinds, particularly science fiction. Not even memorable.

It's very strange what people will buy into. Even people with a brain. What people will do, drink, tolerate physically, etc. As specially those with $$$$ who are empty inside and just plump, ripe berries hanging on a tree, waiting to be harvested. It just takes the right harvestor to get to them in time to squeeze all the juicy goodness out of them.