Prime Twist Pump and Inject

The answers to life are actually a lot simpler than most of the idiots in this conspindustry would have us you believe.

got assthen think

The show [downloadable] could have easily be entitled “everything I ever needed to know about the world of conspiracy can be summed up in one word … buttsex,” but that would wrap endlessly and perhaps I’m a little “anal” about that. 😆


I’m sure may pundits of poop will bitch and yell like a bunch of little emo-ciated manbois on fire that I got it all wrong and they “have the documents” to substantiate a fetid pile of turths like the one below.

But then again, most such people are actually about as usefull as the bright young women below.

Not sure about what will be going on this upcoming weekend, but I’ve got a couple of real good shows scheduled. More to come…

~ by celticrebel on June 28, 2012.

6 Responses to “Prime Twist Pump and Inject”

  1. The OTO and the United Church of Canada both use practically the same symbol for their “respective” churches (possibly around the globe?) Some say the OTO took over the majority of the protestant sections of the Christian faith. Knowing what the OTO stands for, that makes me wary of it or anything like it (The Catholic church comes to mind) .. You’re right Alex, the Abrahamic Religions are boxes, scary black boxes that lead to no where. Know where I’m talking about? 😉

    Thanks again. Good work, always enjoy it! 🙂

    PS: You were mentioning how gay metal bands are. That brought to mind a sketch from the HBO (hb-blow-me) series “Mr. Show”, check it out:

  2. One of the main objectives of the 60s ‘movement’ was the cleaving of the generations. My parents were children in the 20s and 30s while I was a child of the 60s and the gulf between us was a chasm. We were the first generation to be conditioned to have no respect for our elders, ‘we knew better’ or so we were told (programmed).
    I came to understand this this some years back when I spent time in a former slave colony, where most of the people I was with were descendants of slaves. To digress, I object to the use of the term ‘slavery’ to describe our situation, it is incorrect. A slave has his family and his culture taken from him forcibly, whereas we have given ours up voluntarily, albeit through subversion and sorcery. Instead we are bonded labour, born into a debt we work our whole lives paying yet never settle, and at death the burden is taken on by our children. If you want to see the current state of your debt, just look at the Bond Markets, where our bondage is freely traded.
    Amongst these slave descendants, forever separated from a shattered tribal history, there was still great respect for their elders. This was evident in their use of language. If someone was older than you they were ‘bigger’ than you. Nothing to do with physical size, a little shrivelled up eighty year old would be reverentially referred to as a ‘big man’. Respect.
    By comparison, our post-60s world is about the semi-deification of youth and the vilification of age. The ‘dreaded thirtieth birthday’, the ‘dreaded fortieth birthday’ etc. Age does not necessarily confer wisdom (let’s face it, there’s plenty of stupid old people around) but without age and experience wisdom is not possible. From my personal viewpoint I’m bigger than I was, and I expect to get bigger still.

  3. Alex, this is the main feature of the cathedral in my city Coventry, I believe its St Michael [he’s the one in the skirt] standing in conquer over Satan [he’s the one who’s chained up and looking up Michaels skirt while Michael tramples and dominates him]:

    If you get a bit closer you’ll notice that Satan has a huge cock and balls

    PS: I recall your discussion on Ann Frank deception.

  4. Maybe all these “movements” are just bowel movements.

  5. London calling, Mongoose here.

    I have seen the future, and I wanted to share.
    You may not want to know, but I really care.

    It was yesterday, and I was invited, to see off a friend – I was very excited.

    Come to Dean Street
    said she, drinks and a laugh and Thai food to eat.

    Well my friend she cannot plan a pissup in a pub,
    and as I arrived I noticed a great pink hubbub.

    For another time the adventures of me
    as I made my way
    through London’s famous
    Gay Pride Day.

    For now I leave you with the sight – a vision of doom, a picture of fright.
    As I escaped, fashionable fluorescent trousers and shoe broke the night.

    It was attached to a young man, head down on a sleeping bag not his.
    In his skintight shirt, wallowing in the dirt,
    the man was french kissing an old tramp.
    Was it camp and did it hurt?

    They both looked up as I sped past, perhaps they saw I was aghast, they smiled at my incomprehension. Had I ventured into another dimension?

    The future of mankind is man on man, amongst detritus and in the rain, any other options also hurt the brain …….

    Mongoose out.

    ps. option 2

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