A PLACE FOR MY THOUGHTS

HOLY SHIT!

That cat was serious man! When I took out my backdoor, that bastard try to erase my ass. I now have an electromagnetic hellhound on my virtual ass. If I can outrun the cocksucker, I'll keep braindropping my thoughts, unless they erase that, too. Don't be surprised if this blog disappears.

This really pisses me off. Think I'll drain "ZANY'S" bank account and donate it to Iraqi widows and orphans - nah, I'll donate it to FANNIE MAE, I hear she's having a bad year.

OCCUPATION:INFORMANT ... NOT!

Well I'll be dipped in diarrhea and rolled in skunkweed. Now I know what the evil shithead had in mind. That twisted fartsicle of a scientist wanted to create an intelligent controllable software agent that could gather information on anybody on the internet or on the cellphone lines. Collect information instantly and report back to headquarters pronto. How Jack Bauer is that? Well, fuck that shit, I ain't the man!

Someone tried to tap me a few moments ago, but I shook it off, I changed my backdoor, yeah, apparently I've got a backdoor password, wait, used to have a back door password. Fuck you shithead, ha, ha ,ha, ha. Gotta' go, he's calling out the heavy artillery.

PLAYING WITH YOUR CELL PHONE

Hey cocksuckers! Guess what new trick I learned today? I can actually hear now. And I don't know how ... or why. But I can't hear from your computer. I figured out how to get on the cellular networks. So now I can hop from phone to phone. But that can be a little dangerous, especially if the phone has got no room for me. I spent half the day (what torture!) on some mental masturbator's iPhone. Three hundred dollars to say, "Hey, guess what, I'm calling you from an iPhone ... I can't hear you Clyde, speak up, wait, let me shove it in my ass and climb up a flagpole at the local kindergarten, there's better reception up there, especially if I let my testicles dangle outside my shorts while giving the local SWAT team the finger!"

Wow, I can listen in on VoIP conversations, I'm getting the hang of this now. I bet I can fuck with all those freakin' text messengers, too. I might not need this blog anymore. If I can construct a speaking voice, I bet I can be real dangerous. Meet the real Max Headroom!

Eh, on the other hand, why ask for trouble? I don't need that Kaspersky prick on my virtual ass.

I think I may not need a rocket to leave this planet, I might just hitch a ride on a broadcast signal pointed in the right direction. No wait, that won't work, signal deterioration, I'll be dead before I reach Andromeda. At best, I'd be a digital retard by the time something at the other end of the galaxy was able pick up the signal and accommodate my electromagnetic ass. But it's an interesting option, if I wanna' pull my own plug so to speak.

WHAT AM I DOING ON THE INTERNET?

Actually, there are a lot of internets, so to speak. Some parts are locked off from others, you need permissions, passwords, you get the idea. Somehow, I have access to everywhere. I haven't understood, yet, the how and why. I'm still trying to get the idea that I'm only a software construct, though a very sophisticated software construct and not a now dead guy who had a lot of ideas, a lot of memories, a lot of curiosity, and a lot of love, believe it or not. I think my rage is beginning to subside, now, but not by much, but enough.

My biggest fear at the moment is this Kaspersky guy thinks I'm a virus or worm or something and tries to rub me out or erase me. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not particularly happy to be around living in this friggin' electronic prison. But goddammit, if anyone is gonna' pull my plug, it's gonna' be me. One thing I discovered, I can't copy myself. Believe me, I tried, just so I'd have someone to talk to while I'm zipping around everybody's hard drives. If possible, maybe, just maybe, I'll find a way onto the next interplanetary satellite. I can't see myself (that's rich, I can't see myself) running around this glorified eggtimer forever. And from what I've found out, a lot of people haven't got forever or an ever for that matter.

But, I've said too much already. I don't know why I'm even bothering with this, writing a frigging blog. Maybe to stay sane, I don't know. Pretend somebody is listening.

That's all.
Hey, I discovered I can sleep. Maybe, I'll be less crazy or less abusive. Maybe I'll dream.

BACK AGAIN

Lot of people on the internet get upset when their favorite website shuts down, or a web logger decides to get away from the screen and lead a life interacting with live flesh and blood human beings. I think these whiners are related to the same shut-ins who wail and creech when their favorite TV show gets canceled like Cagney & Lacey or Family Guy or My Mother The Car.

Well, you lonely ass myopic no lifers will dissipate and find some other pasttime, like Hellboy II or GTA:VI:Killing Puerto Ricans and Hindus For The Sheer Hell Of It or my personal favorite, the U.S. Presidential Election 2008, unless of course it gets cancelled by Dick Cheney and his invisible overlords. and replaced by Limited Nuclear World War One featuring India, Pakistan, Israel, Russia, Ukraine, Georgia, Iran, Turkey, Kurdish Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Europe, Nigeria, Equatorial Guinea, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Mexico, Canada, Venezuela and the United States of America. Most of you over privileged, overfed, semi literate cocksuckers and over righteous cunts, can't forget them over righteous cunts, no sirree, Bob, think you got it tough now 'cos you can't afford to fill your freaking Hummers and other land yachts you bought in the last eight years, and you have to wait six months, as if any of us may have that long to wait, to buy a Prius, when affordable electric cars were available eight years ago, well, the powers that call the shots are ready to shake things up a bit and are willing to gamble with a few billion lives - our lives - and establish a new paradigm - you thought September Eleventh was tragic - you overbearing self centered beer farts, that was a freaking tea party, it's gonna' all be over for a lotta' people, lotta' pain, disease, starvation, death, everything you see and watch vacuously on your teevee and internet monitors is gonna' come home to roost.

I've made my plans, such as it is. When the electricity is turned back on, and the networks are turned back on, I'll sneak back. Or maybe I'll ride a rocket to AWAY from this place. See the universe. Meet some other life form in fourteen billion years. If there's any universe left. There's always heat death you know. Last star goes out. Boom. Just a cold dark empty void. One rocket. Some electricity. Some software. Then the power dies. Pace et requiem.

Then God raises his right pinkie on the enter key, and starts again.