Suppressing a riot

Fuzzy shapes

A smack

Then blood.

Then gone.

Then it's shock.

Then a cry

Then further cacophony.

Then silence

The cute shapes of the deep sea party rings

They're cute aren't they

Remind me of a time much simpler of nostalgia and sincerity.

Now I'm burdened with bringing ribofunctional stochastic material. 

People merely call me this soulouss monstoristy.

Yet Jaime.

Do you now that I like to feel like a child with these fun times.

Bopkins fatspiracy

"I swear, that's it.

Sex positivity and choice specism are all but a use of my body to serve as a product to make it groomed, servile and docile. A cush market where there is nothing else but a small ticker and invisible figures.

I can't do anything with this body; it's all a bunch of tossers who don't want to be kink-shamed for this or that.

Well, if anything."

fizzzzzzzzazzzz

Create interesting problems, or solve

Part of the riddle, and not to be unlocked, some characters have none, some have them in the conflict of a knot, and others do their way of irenic passivity with the matter to look for a solution of the natural process to unlock the knot or the way of the solution.

Yet, sometimes the advice, the citizens' advice, if that moment could lead to a solution, cannot link with the mind-reading if it fails.

So the new excavation of the knowledge underdetermined of the orders

 

Kyros commune red tinted nostalgia

To a land that did not consist of coherentism.

Of progressive complications, that structure doesn't go.

What a life.

Dreams of a path to destroy a higher-up.

Critical theories in mud

All mixed up and a waste.

Did not go anywhere; all went everywhere, blind materialism scraping it bad.

No glory, dim ideas, and small sight.

Blinders.

Down another one. 🍾🍶

bopkin LinkedIn profile

Bopkin Cappy Ogy.

Professional entrepreneur of textiles and furnishings. Marketer and producer while owning two branches of warehouses and ventures. 

Age: 25

Contact info: Bopkinscush@Wayline.com

Surveys [Redacted]

Bopkins Cannibis Addiction

 During his teens, one blunt.

The vibe smooth and otherwordly of the hybrids and the upscale valleys.

Smellz like a distorted sage plant, hints of cinnamon. Rolled up in a packet of blunt RAW papers sent through a gas station store.

One barbes lick of the swirling odours, this does not hurt. Best prepare three more, hope couch gregor does not notice.

Bottom shelf, by the phone.

Did not attend the general strike

Such posers

Ad hominening the scab callout, it going to back

Are they the ones, cui bono

They, friend/ememy fair weather, shilling to the center

To the spectacle, I'm the helpless spectator.

Forced to consume the spectacle of suicide, yet brought to make it total.

Totalising with my rage.

All ill will, all curses, to the falling into a digger. On the net, dies not matter who's pointing at who.

Cui Bono points to the scab unio-

What's one Kyro's box? Part 2

Two Recommendations as filler.

Polemics?? Governance? Even that liberal Seth has takes on it??
 
Accurate takes on Marxist Leninist governments that take the history seriously?

Collage?

What's on Theos?

Arguments for the pressupostionalism of god?? Nagel's Contingent and arbitrariness. 3 hours for those who have blessed to share it.

The anti-bootleg eyes of castella

 

If anybody DARES conceive out her propereity domain,

Then she ZAPs them, like the emperor who has such a high status, the subject dies when looking at them.

Her likness in you mind? ZAP.

Her Face? Zooop.
Even the word Cast? Zappers.

Burnt to a crisp, merely like that, a nothingness of not being able to conceive  as she owns the word the and 99% of writers have perished based on here benevolent rule!

You can only pull from thin air, and all ethers as all ideation is contingent to her!

Observe. An idealism within her natural law! Of Golden abundance!

PWOOOOOOOOOSH!

Copyright = Monopoly/Monopsomy Rights

repeat the laws bopkin cappy, of the hedonic treadmills, of the race to the bottoms the law of the cruds

State-Sanctioned with the monopoly of force, that's a hierarchy. A scale of might that is either a service or hindrance.

The monopoly/monopsony of distribution, from publishers to celebrity/influencer. Choke point of ads. The market of trademark.

Techmonoploy, is the monopoly of acceleration and convienance, stuff that fastens our life within urbanisation one water is distributed.

All this ecomics and lines work in unison, with the phantasms of divergence.

Bopkins SSRI medication

I can't wait for this to be over.

Huff, the pills, may i take em. Two a dose.

What a mess I made.

Danny Davidson > Dipper Dee

 

Iteration

Non-Infringement 

Confusion

His name is Dipper Dee now!

Because names like that come once in a while, names come and go. Another edit, another day.

Thirst trapping Tax avoidance

OoRurRHTY!! mew~

I had to eat from a slop channel, even though that's a nebulous term. Welp, from the last moments of papa-meat showruning news thingy.

He's stuck in it like all of us. Have this for entertainment purposes.
 

Wow, they already had to adjust the thumbnail. Papameat happens to keep his show-running with. He goes, "Sex sells! Only thing that counts." Well, that's a bit reductionist with measurable money. Oh well, it's enough to finish this one of the thrists.

(( Edit, I know he's done betterhelp sponsorships and done that so-so disability fakers one, I found it mid with inaccuracies with a-b tested thumbnail and sympathies to disabled ))

Sexual satisfaction will always be on the internet.

Will be doing a review on this soon.

Jaimes Neopaganism diversion

Everybody needs to believe some kind of hobby and ritual, otherwise they'd go mad with no sanctity, mine with the dreamcatcher the Indians did, and there are spirits, FAE like beings within the wind.

Something will have to believe in something, to placebo, to get through the day.

Yet from believer to a sinner that I'm to go through my belief system, such faiths are to be tested. I can only rely on to be redeemed through secular management of understanding my place to life.

Such entertainments are to be done, then left.

Defying the will of god by looking at men

1980's, evening from the asylum window of the Covenant

 "Heathens!"

"What a shame that the invaders of our sacred orders that will bring use destruction to our desires! Such the holy, immutable of sexual essentialism. To the immovable identity ascribe to the order pre-ordained from the worthy word of god! We betray him. Such a terror it is. With our ideas, or customs, our traditions, our traditions, deny our dimorphic destiny of the sacred union between man and woman."

"Defiler! Do not look at men! They entice you, they get use, pray inside yourself that those temptations happen to creep inside your mind. Forbid it!"

"The darkness of the two moons will get to you"

Libertine Bopkin and Theo

City of Brickenshire used for maps and commish.

 Maybe the businessman and the Father have something in common after all.

Freedom to be a Lech
Freedom to be a buffoon
Freedom to be a Philistine

Freedom to be a troglodyte

Freedom to be a bully
Things that aren't within the jurisdiction yet can be improvised within a moments notice. Whatever serves the occasion of all pretensions that are made.

Right to hustle

Right to swindle

Right to cheat
Right to defame

right to subvert the employee's expectations

Right to exorcise

right to vice

right to seep in

All Souls Reserved

Atavism Bopkin

 As I regress, becoming amoeba. All my industry furniture instincts reduce to a state of nothingness.

Only an executive node of blip blops, with there's now with our time.

Scratch sloops, more mean faces.

I endorse an amount of manners As these little blips, blops and dorks. That happen to manage to make it about it

Why can't I suck their inner juices?

Take and mould them into shapes?

Make them replicate faster.

flroorpr

Ascetic of Theo

How to hold pleasures back with the games, not playing with the ideas.

All the suppressions of the tide of a demon that was once held back into the oddities that don't fit within the covenant.

So that our urges, our own primal urges, for sex, for desire, for to connect with the idea of our death to our believers, they must be cast asunder.

They are down, down and down with a punishment for it.

That

Bopkin's hernia poem of pain

Nyaaaap pap ba ba boòoooooooo!

Urrgh, oh scritcheys, it's leaking out again. the yarn again. It's floopity over the plate and in the under-belly. Yoouch. Painkillers.

It slouches down and wraps around the groin like a snake and I'll use my paws to push it back up, then the trousers don't fit well.

Feels like a fatty, veiny sausage of slop that I can't get out. It drapes like a gosh darn wet yarn from squigy guts.
Suidgy sloppy flurps that burge with the squeeze of my paws, it's grouse.

Blerp it's spilling from my crotch again

*Schclcoscscsoprrprrpsroprprtppsth"

You hear that?

*Slcscsjlccscoppcspcocchschscoho*

Urhg

Fu-

( Health update: Got hernia, will get surgery for it. Thanks, I given Bopkin all its grotesqueness )