Just a few items to review. I'm sure you're all tired of this story already but there was a very interesting peek behind the curtain amongst the festivities that we need to look more seriously at. More on that soon.
But in the meantime, you got your prerequisite Mermaids and your de rigeur Masonry. Seriously, start getting used to this stuff.
I couldn't care less about this whole charade but I must say I'm happy Harry's hair is starting to thin. Maybe he'll stop being so damn cocky. I am sorry he probably won't be running around embarrassing the Windsors anymore, however. All good things must come to an end.
I'm sure the Archbishop of Canterbury is a perfectly honorable and upstanding fellow but I have to say he's really got the smarmy, obsequious pedo-priest look down pat. Maybe it's camouflage. When in Babylon, right?
That being said, what's the term for three-way oral? I don't feel like googling it. And is this cat totally colorblind?
Well, speaking of Orange (were we speaking of Orange?), you remember our discussion about Santa Fe AKA Saint Faith and the Charities and so on...
...well, I couldn't help but notice this wee lassie from the Colonies with the Orange hair (and the Fraserfarian outfit)...
...whose name just happened to be Faith. Coincidences, amirite? Wild, wacky stuff.
In a related story, it seems the fourth-place entry from the Croydon Comic-Con 2018 Harry Potter lookalike contest was press-ganged into working the door at the Royal Nuptials. There are consequences for losing in this life.
Funny because it's true.
Of course, we saw Elizardbeast the Second rocking the Pearly Dewdrops. Her own wedding dress was festooned with thousands of pearls, incidentally. Think of that when you go back to study the Met Gala.
She spent the ceremony texting her BFF Lord Rothschild, however. They were deciding which former colony's economy to crush. Or so I was told.
And judging from the breathless coverage it's receiving, the story of Kristen Stewart rocking the Dewdrops at Cannes seems to be the most earth-shaking event of our times.
Speaking of Pearls.
Think on it.
I admit I haven't been following the Spy Wars too closely lately, since scorpion fights tend to get tedious after a while. But judging by this little tantrum on the part of the Rockefellers' court jester (AKA Doctor Evil), I can only assume things aren't going too hot behind the scenes.
However, Tony Soprano is probably Trump's closest media analog. Well, after Alec Baldwin, who is more Trump than Trump himself. Only not as good an actor.
So yeah, Stephan Halper and the rest of it. I'd almost care if I thought any of these people would stop to piss on me if I (or you) were on fire.
This whole mess is further proof that what ignorant people call the "Democratic Party" is nothing at all but the old Rockefeller Republican faction pursuing the same old plunder-policies under a new name. Just look at the party affiliations of all the Trump-haters' heart-throbs like Mueller and Comey. Lifetime GOP, almost to a one.
In short, this is nothing more than a GOP civil war and I don't have any time for anyone who takes it at face value.
Anyone who isn't getting paid to do so, I should say.
In more miserable Jerseyside news, this horrible revelation. Which I guess we should expect. But even so it's like a kick to the stomach. At least it wasn't Dionne. That would've been unbearable.
I've written on this before but back in those early days I saw Whitney Houston as some kind of advance scout for a new and better humanity. And we all know how that turned out.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Of course, Whitney's heart-wrenching downfall cleared the field for Mystery Beyonce the Great, so maybe it wasn't just the abuse. Maybe they needed an avatar who wasn't quite so damaged to put forth the Grand Plan. Someone with whom the programming took.
Shame it had to be a Knowles.
The question needs to be asked: Is Elon Musk for real or is he a Trump-like frontman for a much deeper and darker cabal working behind the scenes? Tesla seems to be teetering and SpaceX is whatever. And now he's "jazzed about selling bricks."
Never let it be said that Freemies don't have arch senses of humor. Think I'm exaggerating?
Speaking of Elon's SpaceSex, here's this business again, sowing the seeds for the Post-Human Era. The science is finally ready and the entrainment industry has already sowed the fields. So let the chimera-making ensue!
I can't help but wonder if the DNA-alteration agenda hasn't been fully beta-tested already, especially when I look at Elon's new muskrat-love, Grimes.
Not to body-shame or anything but our Grimes is a very peculiar-looking person, with a weird Lolita baby-face, Manga-style pie-eyes and Andre the Giant-sized mitts, all capping a very lanky and Close Encounters-looking frame.
Which is perfectly appropriate to her music, come to think of it.
I used to see models all the time back when I was working in Manhattan, since all the big agencies are clustered around Bryant Park, where we used to lunch. They didn't look like any of the other legions of gorgeous women you see all over the place in NYC.
For the most part they looked like aliens in person, stick insects with weird cat-eyes. This new bunch? Jesus. I don't even know anymore.
Some Knowles' First Law in action: I saw this puffpiece and thought the same as you...
But all of SiliCylon Valley is going symbol crazy these days, in addition to their usual kill-off-all-of-humanity-crazy. That's really what we need-- millionaire misanthropes with the power of gods messing around with the Occult.
Caprica was a documentary. Only they got the theology slightly jumbled.