I CAN ONLY DEAL WITH THESE KIDS ONE ON TWO.

At a time.Two because bogus accusations are a dime a dozen these days, sexuality can be irrelevant. So not the issue. All your pretty little jobs are pretty irrelevant in the face of crippling, breathtaking lawsuits where claimants are getting multiple millionaire missions from juries who want to punish mid-level company employees with jobs that require an Associates Degree. Companies are pushing hard to find just such people. Who can work and keep their mouths shut. 1.) They will test you from your urine to a lot of stressful asshole situations (think HR where lawsuits have to put their tits on straight and get in line). These employees are expendable. It costs corporations relatively nothing to axe them from the axes. They come in swinging hard at Nutcake Charlie because his yearly salary is less than half of what it costs them to keep the coffee pot on. No dope. You will give your blood. Down to the molecular level. The word paranoia is code for lawsuits. Who brings the lawsuits. It is an exaggeration to blame the disguntled. Neil Young used to play the Damage Done. Voila. Damage. Done means it is over. Why didn’t you know some of this was going on. Exactly who are the claimants. Private investigation shows no links. $100,000 spent getting this useless generic information. Duh. People do not believe when I tell them about my economic recovery plans when I was publishing porn. Why did you do it, Timmy. I deplore that word because I should not be infantalized by a status quo of stereotypes. People who know me call me Timmy. Actually (as oppossed by what Wikipedia claims), know me in the shower. This is Appalachia. The outside shower is a bucket hanging in a tree. Andrew is the only one who can crawl up there are even more author’s codes for we know who the fuck you are. I first met Andrew in this place. How old are you, Andrew. I’m eighteen, I really am. We scour his driver’s license. Anyone can get a driver’s license for the right money. I had to put my arm around his left shoulder, I do not suppose anyone who knows, knows this: It’s hard for me to not have left anywhere I happen to be, the itching stary stars gleam autism blue thick as a razor blade where does anyone get a razor blade like that. Agnes pipes up. For fucks sake let the man drive the car, now sit down and shut the fuck up. I begin to sleep under oak trees. Big Old twisted, groaing oak trees. Older than Big Old Wanda, Special Education Overstated 1958 Yellow Bus to an extreme I have to wear boxing gloves to bed at night or I will beat someone up. I do not care who. It can be anyone. I am a coyote who has to laugh. I jump up and down the rocks naked and screaming. And. And so what. You can’t know me if you are going to judge me and you already have, this makes me so depressed. Can you imagine a book that says something like “Timmy wrote this book No One Knows How to Read. I would be naked in the play again. Every drama I have ever been in. One of them is called Le docteur malgré lui  and I have written, myself, a hundred plays. People inevitably contend that some writer based a character on said person’s existence which is usually pretty nonchalant. I have never been subject to repercussions – from who – straight men. No one is James Joyce who got into trouble again with writing like I do the dirty dirties the But No Crowd who are against everything extra ditty dirties will gasp. And fucking faint. I had been worked over as a naked model a few times. Anything for art, but they have to pay. Every whore knows someone. Publishing which is credited the kind of courage you can pay for. This will be in the millions of dollars. It now has the comany’s attention. I worked for the San Francisco Federal Reserve. It cannot be undone. Seriously suits. This is where the cash flow of the economy dug in. What I know about how governments work would affect entire populations come in with the fruitcake. You have to admit that most polidinal ions were fat old men who are now fatter and old as the fall of Rome. And new bills leave on their way by guard to the big banks. This still happens to a lesser degree of artiface. It’s all digital numbers. The billing. The spending. The amount of cash in the hands of John Doe and his wife Jane. How much corporate interest will be spilled today. What happens when we bake racism into the torte. Your system rots. Your economy rots. Your innovation (it’s really all you have). The rich feel no pinch. Buy a house. Buy ten. Your work at the Fed is classified. Guards come around at night, and they go through every desk and every transaction made during the day, there are 2 numbers going on here and they all have to be lined up perfectly with four jacks on fire. I shredded everything. Eazy peazy. It was a serious place. Alligned with major universities. Economic institutes. The Consolidation Of Economic Wizard storms of Tally Hoe. Institutions like this one will eat your soul for a midnight snack. The smell of warehouses stacked to the ceilings with old cash-to-be-burned. And new cash to travel to banks. Stank. Like sewage. I am a communist. People who are around this know that tons of money in one room stinks like insecticide spread like whisps of bleach, vomit, and a pail of dead rats and their dead babies. The Fed taught me a lot of stuff. One forms conclusions, and they have a bad track record. Conclusions. Often, a trap. Institutions are traps. What does collusion actually mean. One or more crooks with a funnel. Corporate banking has so many deals all written down with plans and objectives constructed in 1641 by the Pope who is the King’s boss. No one understands a word of it. Theories. The queen is irrelevant except in bed, and you were required to pay a tax on throwing shit into the street. Why do you think Betty had no hair. Did it really matter. Who. The fuck was going to fuck the Queen of England. Who is going to eat the Majesty And Pussay signed by the King. People whispered and shivered in their shoes. Henry hung them and then he put the ripe heads on display in the turrets of the castle Jack Grazer built. Whoever tended to all the heads was a complete wreck. It did not matter what bank Robin Hood owned unless you could count your cheap whore the self and your second selves, but no one was in a mood to confront the King who was a tax cheat to himself. Therefore, he could order men who were boiled in oil stirred by accountants. The bodies turned to mainly vast resouces of plain old fat. No one had that. No one applied. Who reads latin in fine print paper made by the Alexander the Great and his Taos washing machine the kind with a wringer and this was it this was wisdom and pearls devoured by goats and goats were sacred in Goat Dirt Town. Writing in Greek. No one speaks Greek. The people who are called Greek Guards with Machineguns at night with fake headlights, smoldering poison steaming from the overheat, I can always smell the radiator pinging. Antique. Mysterious. No one knew how to drive it you had better get that car moving all we will ever have is Paris and dope. Goat dope the kind you smoke. Kid was eaten by a crock. No one knew they would invade was Florida in trouble. Everywhere I go, there it is. I did not cause that late unpleasantness, the War Between the States. Idiot, all the usual suspects. It was all anyone knew what to do so they asked a pornographer what he thought he thought that you never know who is speaking. I listen to their bullshit all day. Every waking moment. The bad guys were from Syrian Gun Runners Inc Mersanaries  who were all suspect. I was going to invent (I hate inventing but what you want is never, ever, never – there). They didn’t even have condoms. What they used to fuck one another in the ass multiple times with was the stretched skin testicles of goats. Goats’ balls. People eat them, too. I would, I have to. Diplomacy is to survive in the same territory you survive in and you both knew it would be the big bite of who throws the first punch. The match has been lit by someone who did not know this was whatever it was was an accident. An accident it had been settled. Life comes up with teeth this time, too. There’s a great yard sale going on in Columbia. Of machine guns. I am here to tell you that you are not a real man and what you are is a guy with a gun and some goat testicles. For fuck sake. Grab the women. Leave the children behind and when they grow up they are going to attack your castle with dragons and incest. Banks really, really get incest. The whole planet is dependent on it. I am tired of being attacked in the digital pages of the New York Times. It’s as if the Times Machine and the Grind Regime often discuss monetary policy.  I am Hans Brinker Anderson and this is the Orient Express. They talked kids and deals. It is what they do. I did not make up that name. Stop screaming at me on this site. Do I appear to you to be someone who gives a British-Latin toss. I told you, One Drama at a Time, you said one drama, no, I said two everyone falls down laughing. I have this new phone. No visual records. Audio only, and they are working on the visuals from spy cameras transformed into different shades of bouncing off numbers, and that is where the real money is. Go work a year for the Fed. Discover actual pressure to advise and consent. Call Treasury. No, thank you, no where in the Bible does it say I am the idiot who calls Treasury. Calling Treasury is your job and a job is a job, you know, these people in there then lose their shit daily because every hit man available is available. Looking down the barrel of a gun. Just for information as to what the lucky number thirteen this is not Vegas this is so fucking Vegas. Identity will get you anywhere you want to go or hit the road with passports from that little phone thing I carry around next to my dick. If I squeezed the monster, yall better run. I’m just the voice who is allowed an erection or they spank my hands with rulers. Whips cum after that. I write a lot of SM and I will always call it art, it pays for foos, and if you cannot, will not, and never will call Acquiescence Home, you will be compelled to work ferris wheels whirly wheels, bouncing boob rides, and no, no, not Vegas it’s unfair. They said you are a comedy act and then you fell down usually when they fall down they are finished in spiteful comedy because there is nothing funny about it. The world had gone to shit in a handbasket. Ask anyone. It’s one on three at the moment. It’s traffic cop. That is all it is. But you meet very curious people who now control Texas. Skateboard for your lives. The sound of one skateboard at Washington Square brought out all the rest of the boards and the long boards and hoards and mores and whores. Everyone was a drug dealer or a cop who was a drug dealer. I fucked that cop once in an elevator. Hans and his silver skates, now, who wears flashy silver designer skates and he cannot really skate, I am really going to hurt him in this public rink. Everyone knew I would do it. And then, I ran. He looks great pretending to be another communist.