Wherein I tell some stories that I should probably keep to myself, but, for whatever reason, I feel compelled to share, to give just a little context to the whole “eating babies” thing.

If you like Gavin Rossdale you will hate this story.

If you like Gwen Stefani, you are likely to think less of me for telling some “secrets” here.

Look, my life is my story, and if you know me & I know you, you are part of my story & I assert my right to tell it as truthfully as I can.

Let the chips fall where they may.

No refunds.

Wherein I tell a story about how I came to be closely involved in the horror known as “Gender Affirming Care”

It seems like many are still in denial about it all and are looking the other way.

That’s not good.

Eye on the ball.

Yes, I wanted to say “balls”.

This isn’t a funny episode.

No refunds.

Wherein I tell some personal stories of alleged righteous indignation, passionate piety, & cringeworthy chastisement of people who didn’t deserve it & compare those feeling that drove me with what I am witnessing online in relation to the growing lore surrounding Jeffrey Epstein.

Yes, I said LORE, aka FICTION, aka IMAGINARY TALES.

Some of the stories are true.

Most of them, you have been careful lead to invent in your own mind.

I don’t know why I’m compelled to say the unpopular thing, but there it is.

Sue me.

No refunds.

Wherein I explain what should be very obvious about the personal life details of Roger Goodell’s decision to let the anti-white, dreadlocked social justice warrior, Jay-Z, who happens to be married to Beyoncé, run the Super Bowl Halftime Show to the exclusion of all White People.

This is my most perfect analysis so far.

I’m patting myself on the back as I type this.

Figuratively.

I need both thumbs to type.

No refunds.

Wherein I explain exactly why Puerto Rico can NEVER be granted US Statehood.

Not ever.

Never.

No way.

Also, time for whitey to get super pridey.

No refunds.

Wherein I theorize how Rubin, Milo, Greenwald, Fuentes, Ali, Jesse, Shapiro, Levin, Loomer, Elijah, Smith, Owens, & the rest of the “right wing” degenerates gained such a foothold amongst self described conservatives.

We allowed it, and promoted it.

Well, at least I did.

But why?

What made me/us think that was a good idea?

Well, I have some ideas that you might be able to predict.

No refunds.

Wherein I reflect on why maybe yesterday’s recording about Jeff Epstein & Steve Bannon didn’t sit well with some and compare the ballooning lore behind him to my childhood propensity to lie, exaggerate & invent stories about myself to seem more interesting.

Now that I read what I just wrote it sounds like a really bad, sloppy analogy.

Oh well, I doubt anyone ever listens to these recording based on these retarded synopsis anyway.

No refunds.

Wherein I argue that the dehumanization & cartoonification of human beings, friend or foe, does a disservice to humanity as it avoids solving underlying issues.

Very few people are 100% good or evil and thinking such only robs the individual from being able to confidently navigate reality.

I touch on a number of forbidden topics here which is guaranteed to upset many people.

I don’t care.

This is not a defense of Epstein, it is a defense of reality over imagination.

No refunds.

Wherein I argue that the ska scene in Provo Utah in the early nineties, of which I was the nucleus, is perhaps the perfect example & manifestation of the programming that lead well meaning, good natured young white men, down a road of suicidal charity for people who hate them, and would ultimately put the future of said white people at risk of destruction & elimination.

It’s no wonder why white women are freaking out.

Shouts out to Catherine O’Hara & John Candy

This analogy works way better than I’d like.

You might not get it.

Not my problem.

No refunds.

Wherein I judge myself for judging Jesse James for being married 5 times, most recently to a porn star named Bonnie Rotten.

He traded Sandra Bullock for that?

Of course he did, and, unfortunately, I think I get it.

Not proud of it, but I get it.

You’re not gonna like how I drag Jesus into this.

Fair warning.

No refunds.