Entry Submitted by Heisenberg at 5:41 PM EST on December 7, 2019
24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. 25 "Though I have been speaking figuratively, a time is coming when I will no longer use this kind of language but will tell you plainly about my Father. 26 In that day you will ask in my name. I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. 27 No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. 28 I came from the Father and entered the world; now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father." 29 Then Jesus' disciples said, "Now you are speaking clearly and without figures of speech. 30 Now we can see that you know all things and that you do not even need to have anyone ask you questions. This makes us believe that you came from God." 31 "Do you now believe?" Jesus replied. 32 "A time is coming and in fact has come when you will be scattered, each to your own home. You will leave me all alone. Yet I am not alone, for my Father is with me. 33 "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." - John 16:24-33
Back through the years I go wandering once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my mama put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors and every piece was small
And I didn't have a coat and it was way down in the fall
Momma sewed the rags together sewing every piece with love she made my coat of many colors that I was so proud of
As she sewed she told a story from the bible she had read
About a coat of many colors Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you good luck and happiness
And I just couldn't wait to wear it and mama blessed it with a kiss
My coat of many colors that my mama made for me
Made only from rags but I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money, I was rich as I could be in my coat of many colors
My mama made for me – Dolly Parton
And that brings us to tonight’s word: HAVE YOU DRIVEN A FORD LATELY?
They say DON’T LOOK BACK. It won’t do no good. Let sleeping dogs lie. Nothing good can come from opening that closet packed to the ceiling with bones. Epstein said that. Or was it Prince Andrew, Duke of York? I forget sometimes. However, Darlene Ouimet said it eloquently when she said, We don't go back to wallow, we go back to undo the lies that are back there that are holding us captive from living a wondrous and full life. Interesting. That girl was woke. What you got buried in your backyard? What secrets do you sleep with when the black moon comes? Good Lawd.
I don’t remember what rabbit hole link took me back to December 15, 2016 in Paddys pub. I was out a wandering again and found my self flipping thru old posts from 3 years ago. I guess I got tired of seeing all those newspapers piling up in the corner and felt like taking a walk down memory lane. If you think about it, Sec 2016 was a very very interesting time. Yosef had just dropped the term “sovereign” rate and blew everyone’s mind. You thought $25 was good. This was heavenly. Everybody having a good time. Except you. You were still talking about the end of the world. Sovereign beings opened up the eyes and expanded their minds to an unthinkable number. Is that even possible? A new life. As free men. Not as slaves. Free women. Free from straw women. And taxes. The place was jumping. The house was rocking. Everyone stopped by at least once a day to pop in and say hi. Rohan was there. Sister Sarah. Jim Bob Wayans. Double or nothing? So many. As I read the day of the 15th, I felt the white rabbit calling me to the 14th. And the 13th. And so on. As I clicked “previous post” for hours I realized I only got to Dec. 9th. I really wanted to get all the way down to election day. And I will. When I have another 7 hours to burn. There was that many posts. I forgot a lot of what was going on every day. Even though I was there. Memories are a funny thing. BeLIEves what it wants to beLIEve. In those days, it was basically the Yosef show. They either loved him or hated him. But the presence was undeniable. See I don’t remember OWK was that big of a Yosef fan. Someone even called him out they were friends. It’s a blur. Either way, Paddys pub was a fun place to be. it was one big happy dysfunctional family. Is it time for another family meeting? Did Aunt Vera ever come out? It was a good time for the Dongs. And you knew who you were then. Girls were girls and men were men. Or did we? The plot thickens.
Blinded by the light of the ZIM, and a daily promise of a new start, oblivion was a nice chaser to hopium. Deep state wasn’t really a thing yet. Isn’t that bananas? Imagine the #800 coming out with all those bad actors in place. Where would all that gold backed money go? Not to the people, that’s for damn sure. Isn’t that nuts that only a short 3 years ago, I had no idea what a deep state was? I was a million miles from the deep state. What’s a Clapper? What’s a Comey? What’s a Strzok it? What’s a Fredo? What’s a 4th reich? And I was a billion miles away from Vrill Bill and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. That was 12 parsecs past Tatooine. So looking back, there’s no way any benevolent source or the Alliance would have allowed the CGR to take place. But what we ownerd in ignorance, we made up for in love. What can I say? We were innocent. So young and in love. Little did I know, I was rocking a barstool next to paid shills. Little did in know, I was being lied to. Little did we know. There were white hats and black hats waging a secret psyop war right here in Paddys pub. Little did we know, someone was about to turn on the lights. Little did we know Buster Scrubs was on his way in. And doc Holliday. And Wyatt Earp. The white hats had a plan. But did they let ole Heisenberg in on it? Naww. What fun would that be? Teach a man to fish eh? But there we were. The Clarion called. And the vegas vegas vegas limo dreamers. The trolls and their pickled red herrings. And the white hats with their backs to the wall. Not saying much. Just watching. And taking good notes. And maybe an ET or two zipping in between dimensions to see just what a Guinness is. Writing on the bathroom stall in their special chalk. Reading hearts and minds. I hope you know this will go down on your permanent record. Oh yeah…. well don't get so distressed. Did I happen to mention that I'm impressed?
Like I said, an interesting time. Think about it. DJT was just elected to office. Not quite sworn in yet tho. Hillary fell flat on her face. What the hell happened? How could Clooney be wr….. wrrroo…. wrong? Oh brother where art thou rigged machines? So as we sat with our ZIM in hand, the black hats were having an oh shit moment. And it showed. It was mid December and the Anti DJT pro Paul Ryan/pro benevolent Obama walk in seeds were already being planted. That was fast. Democrats were already talking impeachment and the Clarion Call chosen ones were being fed their own special kind of bullshit. Busted. I will say this about busted. It did mention lizards eating us. Yikes. A long reach to the vrill but still…. It was a start. Baby steps. Uncle Yao wrote a post about how a few electoral voters held the fate of the country in their few hands. I see what he meant now. We had no idea of the size of the storm that was planned to take back humanity. Take a second and think what has happened in 3 short years. All the CEO resignations. All the firings. All the de-escalations of endless wars. The awakening. The awareness. The trade wars. All the human trafficking arrests. All the curtains that got pulled back from the wizard. All the casting couches left in the alley. All the millions of patriots who said that’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more. All the alternative news sources knocking it out of the park. All the pedophile traps. All the politicians taking the 2 white pills. All in 3 short years.
Inconceivable
And reading those old sloppy posts, got me to thinking how long I’ve been carrying the word up that mountain. What a long strange trip it’s been. Three plus years. That’s a lot of time spent whispering sweet nothings into the universes ear. And I never asked for anything in return. Scratch that. I did ask God to lay down a little cover fire if I’m going to go down this road. Watch my 6. Those basterds have hearts made of leather. I had no idea of their blackness at that time. But with the amour of God squarely over my heart, I found out. All the good. All the bad. And all the ugly.
That’s a lot of time busking in a subway with no tip jar. Pumping it out por gratis. I think the longest interval was 21 days. Someone reminded me of that once. Right EJ? When you consider a throw together like All in The Family takes about 8 hours, it adds up. When you consider a longer one like Return Of The Jedi takes 2 days to write plus the journal stream of consciousness free flow and research tacks on about 6 more hours, it adds up. But no complaints. It’s been a labour of love. All for the sake of humanity and all the starfish out there with their heads in the guillotine and they don’t even know it. It’s been like a second job. A hobby. A calling. And that’s why I never put the tip jar in front of my violin on the titanic. It was never about money. The word is a monetarized virgin. She didn’t want to give up her amateur status. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I just never thought about it. Did consider creating my own website but that was about creative differences. You work with someone for 3 years, you’re going to have some of those. But Patrick has been very patient with catching those off the plate knuckle balls. And besides… synergy. It’s a good partnership.
You like my porkpie hat? Good cause I’m going to be passing it around. Trust me, this is super uncomfortable for me. It feels like a violation of the lone wolf code. A solo lobo veto. The lone wolf doesn’t need anyone. He prides himself on isolation. A pride in the name of love kinda thing. Frank Sinatra said when you’re in a one man band no one gets hurt. So true. I keep thinking about the violinist who plays as the Titanic sank. Sans tip jar. That is an act of heroism to me. I wanna be that guy. What makes him different from the guy without a tip jar who plays in the subway just for the sake of sharing music? Nothing. A little comfort in the night. A little humanity for humanity’s sake. A harbor in the chaos.
Can you tell how awkward this is for me? This is my fear. For the man without fear to fear this is funny. How is it the word can call out the 4th reich, Epstein, Clintons, no name, Poppy Bush, the View, the vrill with a laugh that adds a target on the back but asking for a dime for a cup of coffee is frightening? Strange boogie man. I’ve brought more awareness to celebrity whistle blower clown suicides than anyone in the pub, but this is the monster under the bed? On that’s rich. I’m the one handing out vrill flyers about proboscis gang bangs at Paddys but asking a little help is keeping me up at nights? Shouldn’t it be the opposite? You would think it would be the path of least resistance to ask for a handout and play it very safe. Stick to the scripts that won’t get you shivved in the shower. I guess I’m not all there. I guess I got the neurological disorders from chemtrails I read so much about.
Do you know how many shills have tried to find the chink in the armor of Heisenberg? To get that joker to shut up? What’s the weakness? Everyone has one. Get in his head. Let him know we’re listening. Watching. Let’s create a psyop in his name. Release the hounds. Well, there you go, shills. There’s the weakness. Asking for a helping hand. You’re welcome. Now I don’t know how you’re going to apply that into stopping the next post. Tonight’s word: THE COLD HARD TRUTH. But hey. I’m not going to do all your homework for you. Isn’t it odd that so late in the game the answer falls out of the sky into you lap?
Fate, it seems, is not without its sense of irony…
If you give me 5 seconds of your time, then I’ll tell you the story of my life. I’m in sales. And in sales it depends on what you sell and where you sell it. And market forces etc. And looking back, if I had spent as much time working on my closing techniques as much as I did hitting the 5 o’clock deadlines for the word, I wouldn’t be here with sweaty palms. But then again, what fun is the alternative choice closing technique when there’s a starfish turning in to carne seca on a hot beach? What good is the assumptive close when there’s a war for humanity going on right outside your door? After getting woke, nothing is the same. Nothing compares to 2 U. If you GOT WOKE in your blood, you will want to spend every second of every day waking others up. It’s a high. Wanna get high? It’s better than getting percolated. It’s better than getting metholated. Alcoholated. Sexilated. Hopiumated. Fixated. Getting WOKE is better than anything I can think of. Know thyself. It’s even better than the real thing.
You know, I did get asked early on to get published what ever that means. I think it means to get controlled for a few bucks. What’s in that contract? Join a team. You’ve got a little potential we can mold into something useful. What does that mean? Does that mean I can’t say what ever I want anymore? Am I an agent? Or am I your agent? Do you own my posts? Do you own the word? Are you from the future? If I sign that… for a few beads, am I your slave?
Besides, if I were to write a book, who would read it? Honestly? In Paddys pub, only those with a proper WOKE foundation get the jokes. Only those who beLIEve in the wondrous and fantastic would buy that book. No… publishing is not for Mr. H. Besides, what’s a free agent if he can’t be free? Squish…. Just like grape.
So why now? Why the tip jar after over 3 years? What changed? Good Q. I think we’ve been in the dark long enough. You see… the worst kept secret in Dongville is I’m a dad. I’ve never mentioned that tidbit. Ever. Not one line in all those words. But if SNL cracked the code, how secret can it be? Not bloody very. I heard somewhere there’s nothing a father wouldn’t do for his family. Just ask no name. Or curious George. Now that’s what I call a sticky situation.
And that brings us to tonight’s word: PASS THE HAT
And as awkward as it is for me, for them, I stand before you, pork pie hat in hand, thorn in my pride, and pass the hat around for all the violins. There’s a saying in sales. Do not ask for the sale if you haven’t earned the right to. After 3 years, never having gone to the well, and after a couple minor veiled threats, does that earn me the right? I don’t know. Never been here before. I guess we’ll find out. Can we go back to talking about drone bones and clone zones? This isn’t fun. Or maybe I’m over thinking it as usual. But like you, I expected to have bellied up to the exchange bar, conduct my business and be on my merry way by now. Instead of feeling like a sell out after all these years. And all these words. And all these songs. Isn’t it rich? Isn’t it queer? To lose my timing so late in my career? It seems the matrix is not without its sense of irony….
But you know what? I blame Ford. I gave them a prime spot in a word years ago and I’ve been waiting for my billboard advert check ever since. I guess it got lost in the mail. Was I supposed to have a prior agreement or contract? Is that how this business thing works? I don’t know. I might be one of those ZIM holders who’s broke in 5 years. But let’s give it one more college try. Ford, I know you’re out there…
Have you driven a ford lately?
PayPal.Me/Heisenberg1111
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
Ps. The Word Youtube
The Seeker
Glamourous Indie Rock And Roll For Me
So Young And In Love
Hey Pachuco
As Good As I Once Was
Muchacho
The Boxer
Run
Beautiful Day BBC
The Cold Hard Truth
Drive All Night
Half A Person
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six long years on your trail
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the why W.C.A.
I said I like it here, can I stay?
I like it here, can I stay?
Do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?
She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me equally dour
She said in the days when you were hopelessly poor
I just liked you more
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the why W.C.A.
I said I like it here, can I stay?
I like it here, can I stay?
And do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent too long on your trail
Far too long chasing your tail, oh
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
That's the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
______________________________________________________
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24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. 25 "Though I have been speaking figuratively, a time is coming when I will no longer use this kind of language but will tell you plainly about my Father. 26 In that day you will ask in my name. I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. 27 No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. 28 I came from the Father and entered the world; now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father." 29 Then Jesus' disciples said, "Now you are speaking clearly and without figures of speech. 30 Now we can see that you know all things and that you do not even need to have anyone ask you questions. This makes us believe that you came from God." 31 "Do you now believe?" Jesus replied. 32 "A time is coming and in fact has come when you will be scattered, each to your own home. You will leave me all alone. Yet I am not alone, for my Father is with me. 33 "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." - John 16:24-33
Back through the years I go wandering once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my mama put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors and every piece was small
And I didn't have a coat and it was way down in the fall
Momma sewed the rags together sewing every piece with love she made my coat of many colors that I was so proud of
As she sewed she told a story from the bible she had read
About a coat of many colors Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you good luck and happiness
And I just couldn't wait to wear it and mama blessed it with a kiss
My coat of many colors that my mama made for me
Made only from rags but I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money, I was rich as I could be in my coat of many colors
My mama made for me – Dolly Parton
And that brings us to tonight’s word: HAVE YOU DRIVEN A FORD LATELY?
They say DON’T LOOK BACK. It won’t do no good. Let sleeping dogs lie. Nothing good can come from opening that closet packed to the ceiling with bones. Epstein said that. Or was it Prince Andrew, Duke of York? I forget sometimes. However, Darlene Ouimet said it eloquently when she said, We don't go back to wallow, we go back to undo the lies that are back there that are holding us captive from living a wondrous and full life. Interesting. That girl was woke. What you got buried in your backyard? What secrets do you sleep with when the black moon comes? Good Lawd.
I don’t remember what rabbit hole link took me back to December 15, 2016 in Paddys pub. I was out a wandering again and found my self flipping thru old posts from 3 years ago. I guess I got tired of seeing all those newspapers piling up in the corner and felt like taking a walk down memory lane. If you think about it, Sec 2016 was a very very interesting time. Yosef had just dropped the term “sovereign” rate and blew everyone’s mind. You thought $25 was good. This was heavenly. Everybody having a good time. Except you. You were still talking about the end of the world. Sovereign beings opened up the eyes and expanded their minds to an unthinkable number. Is that even possible? A new life. As free men. Not as slaves. Free women. Free from straw women. And taxes. The place was jumping. The house was rocking. Everyone stopped by at least once a day to pop in and say hi. Rohan was there. Sister Sarah. Jim Bob Wayans. Double or nothing? So many. As I read the day of the 15th, I felt the white rabbit calling me to the 14th. And the 13th. And so on. As I clicked “previous post” for hours I realized I only got to Dec. 9th. I really wanted to get all the way down to election day. And I will. When I have another 7 hours to burn. There was that many posts. I forgot a lot of what was going on every day. Even though I was there. Memories are a funny thing. BeLIEves what it wants to beLIEve. In those days, it was basically the Yosef show. They either loved him or hated him. But the presence was undeniable. See I don’t remember OWK was that big of a Yosef fan. Someone even called him out they were friends. It’s a blur. Either way, Paddys pub was a fun place to be. it was one big happy dysfunctional family. Is it time for another family meeting? Did Aunt Vera ever come out? It was a good time for the Dongs. And you knew who you were then. Girls were girls and men were men. Or did we? The plot thickens.
Blinded by the light of the ZIM, and a daily promise of a new start, oblivion was a nice chaser to hopium. Deep state wasn’t really a thing yet. Isn’t that bananas? Imagine the #800 coming out with all those bad actors in place. Where would all that gold backed money go? Not to the people, that’s for damn sure. Isn’t that nuts that only a short 3 years ago, I had no idea what a deep state was? I was a million miles from the deep state. What’s a Clapper? What’s a Comey? What’s a Strzok it? What’s a Fredo? What’s a 4th reich? And I was a billion miles away from Vrill Bill and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. That was 12 parsecs past Tatooine. So looking back, there’s no way any benevolent source or the Alliance would have allowed the CGR to take place. But what we ownerd in ignorance, we made up for in love. What can I say? We were innocent. So young and in love. Little did I know, I was rocking a barstool next to paid shills. Little did in know, I was being lied to. Little did we know. There were white hats and black hats waging a secret psyop war right here in Paddys pub. Little did we know, someone was about to turn on the lights. Little did we know Buster Scrubs was on his way in. And doc Holliday. And Wyatt Earp. The white hats had a plan. But did they let ole Heisenberg in on it? Naww. What fun would that be? Teach a man to fish eh? But there we were. The Clarion called. And the vegas vegas vegas limo dreamers. The trolls and their pickled red herrings. And the white hats with their backs to the wall. Not saying much. Just watching. And taking good notes. And maybe an ET or two zipping in between dimensions to see just what a Guinness is. Writing on the bathroom stall in their special chalk. Reading hearts and minds. I hope you know this will go down on your permanent record. Oh yeah…. well don't get so distressed. Did I happen to mention that I'm impressed?
Like I said, an interesting time. Think about it. DJT was just elected to office. Not quite sworn in yet tho. Hillary fell flat on her face. What the hell happened? How could Clooney be wr….. wrrroo…. wrong? Oh brother where art thou rigged machines? So as we sat with our ZIM in hand, the black hats were having an oh shit moment. And it showed. It was mid December and the Anti DJT pro Paul Ryan/pro benevolent Obama walk in seeds were already being planted. That was fast. Democrats were already talking impeachment and the Clarion Call chosen ones were being fed their own special kind of bullshit. Busted. I will say this about busted. It did mention lizards eating us. Yikes. A long reach to the vrill but still…. It was a start. Baby steps. Uncle Yao wrote a post about how a few electoral voters held the fate of the country in their few hands. I see what he meant now. We had no idea of the size of the storm that was planned to take back humanity. Take a second and think what has happened in 3 short years. All the CEO resignations. All the firings. All the de-escalations of endless wars. The awakening. The awareness. The trade wars. All the human trafficking arrests. All the curtains that got pulled back from the wizard. All the casting couches left in the alley. All the millions of patriots who said that’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more. All the alternative news sources knocking it out of the park. All the pedophile traps. All the politicians taking the 2 white pills. All in 3 short years.
Inconceivable
And reading those old sloppy posts, got me to thinking how long I’ve been carrying the word up that mountain. What a long strange trip it’s been. Three plus years. That’s a lot of time spent whispering sweet nothings into the universes ear. And I never asked for anything in return. Scratch that. I did ask God to lay down a little cover fire if I’m going to go down this road. Watch my 6. Those basterds have hearts made of leather. I had no idea of their blackness at that time. But with the amour of God squarely over my heart, I found out. All the good. All the bad. And all the ugly.
That’s a lot of time busking in a subway with no tip jar. Pumping it out por gratis. I think the longest interval was 21 days. Someone reminded me of that once. Right EJ? When you consider a throw together like All in The Family takes about 8 hours, it adds up. When you consider a longer one like Return Of The Jedi takes 2 days to write plus the journal stream of consciousness free flow and research tacks on about 6 more hours, it adds up. But no complaints. It’s been a labour of love. All for the sake of humanity and all the starfish out there with their heads in the guillotine and they don’t even know it. It’s been like a second job. A hobby. A calling. And that’s why I never put the tip jar in front of my violin on the titanic. It was never about money. The word is a monetarized virgin. She didn’t want to give up her amateur status. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I just never thought about it. Did consider creating my own website but that was about creative differences. You work with someone for 3 years, you’re going to have some of those. But Patrick has been very patient with catching those off the plate knuckle balls. And besides… synergy. It’s a good partnership.
You like my porkpie hat? Good cause I’m going to be passing it around. Trust me, this is super uncomfortable for me. It feels like a violation of the lone wolf code. A solo lobo veto. The lone wolf doesn’t need anyone. He prides himself on isolation. A pride in the name of love kinda thing. Frank Sinatra said when you’re in a one man band no one gets hurt. So true. I keep thinking about the violinist who plays as the Titanic sank. Sans tip jar. That is an act of heroism to me. I wanna be that guy. What makes him different from the guy without a tip jar who plays in the subway just for the sake of sharing music? Nothing. A little comfort in the night. A little humanity for humanity’s sake. A harbor in the chaos.
Can you tell how awkward this is for me? This is my fear. For the man without fear to fear this is funny. How is it the word can call out the 4th reich, Epstein, Clintons, no name, Poppy Bush, the View, the vrill with a laugh that adds a target on the back but asking for a dime for a cup of coffee is frightening? Strange boogie man. I’ve brought more awareness to celebrity whistle blower clown suicides than anyone in the pub, but this is the monster under the bed? On that’s rich. I’m the one handing out vrill flyers about proboscis gang bangs at Paddys but asking a little help is keeping me up at nights? Shouldn’t it be the opposite? You would think it would be the path of least resistance to ask for a handout and play it very safe. Stick to the scripts that won’t get you shivved in the shower. I guess I’m not all there. I guess I got the neurological disorders from chemtrails I read so much about.
Do you know how many shills have tried to find the chink in the armor of Heisenberg? To get that joker to shut up? What’s the weakness? Everyone has one. Get in his head. Let him know we’re listening. Watching. Let’s create a psyop in his name. Release the hounds. Well, there you go, shills. There’s the weakness. Asking for a helping hand. You’re welcome. Now I don’t know how you’re going to apply that into stopping the next post. Tonight’s word: THE COLD HARD TRUTH. But hey. I’m not going to do all your homework for you. Isn’t it odd that so late in the game the answer falls out of the sky into you lap?
Fate, it seems, is not without its sense of irony…
If you give me 5 seconds of your time, then I’ll tell you the story of my life. I’m in sales. And in sales it depends on what you sell and where you sell it. And market forces etc. And looking back, if I had spent as much time working on my closing techniques as much as I did hitting the 5 o’clock deadlines for the word, I wouldn’t be here with sweaty palms. But then again, what fun is the alternative choice closing technique when there’s a starfish turning in to carne seca on a hot beach? What good is the assumptive close when there’s a war for humanity going on right outside your door? After getting woke, nothing is the same. Nothing compares to 2 U. If you GOT WOKE in your blood, you will want to spend every second of every day waking others up. It’s a high. Wanna get high? It’s better than getting percolated. It’s better than getting metholated. Alcoholated. Sexilated. Hopiumated. Fixated. Getting WOKE is better than anything I can think of. Know thyself. It’s even better than the real thing.
You know, I did get asked early on to get published what ever that means. I think it means to get controlled for a few bucks. What’s in that contract? Join a team. You’ve got a little potential we can mold into something useful. What does that mean? Does that mean I can’t say what ever I want anymore? Am I an agent? Or am I your agent? Do you own my posts? Do you own the word? Are you from the future? If I sign that… for a few beads, am I your slave?
Besides, if I were to write a book, who would read it? Honestly? In Paddys pub, only those with a proper WOKE foundation get the jokes. Only those who beLIEve in the wondrous and fantastic would buy that book. No… publishing is not for Mr. H. Besides, what’s a free agent if he can’t be free? Squish…. Just like grape.
So why now? Why the tip jar after over 3 years? What changed? Good Q. I think we’ve been in the dark long enough. You see… the worst kept secret in Dongville is I’m a dad. I’ve never mentioned that tidbit. Ever. Not one line in all those words. But if SNL cracked the code, how secret can it be? Not bloody very. I heard somewhere there’s nothing a father wouldn’t do for his family. Just ask no name. Or curious George. Now that’s what I call a sticky situation.
And that brings us to tonight’s word: PASS THE HAT
And as awkward as it is for me, for them, I stand before you, pork pie hat in hand, thorn in my pride, and pass the hat around for all the violins. There’s a saying in sales. Do not ask for the sale if you haven’t earned the right to. After 3 years, never having gone to the well, and after a couple minor veiled threats, does that earn me the right? I don’t know. Never been here before. I guess we’ll find out. Can we go back to talking about drone bones and clone zones? This isn’t fun. Or maybe I’m over thinking it as usual. But like you, I expected to have bellied up to the exchange bar, conduct my business and be on my merry way by now. Instead of feeling like a sell out after all these years. And all these words. And all these songs. Isn’t it rich? Isn’t it queer? To lose my timing so late in my career? It seems the matrix is not without its sense of irony….
But you know what? I blame Ford. I gave them a prime spot in a word years ago and I’ve been waiting for my billboard advert check ever since. I guess it got lost in the mail. Was I supposed to have a prior agreement or contract? Is that how this business thing works? I don’t know. I might be one of those ZIM holders who’s broke in 5 years. But let’s give it one more college try. Ford, I know you’re out there…
Have you driven a ford lately?
PayPal.Me/Heisenberg1111
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
Ps. The Word Youtube
The Seeker
Glamourous Indie Rock And Roll For Me
So Young And In Love
Hey Pachuco
As Good As I Once Was
Muchacho
The Boxer
Run
Beautiful Day BBC
The Cold Hard Truth
Drive All Night
Half A Person
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six long years on your trail
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the why W.C.A.
I said I like it here, can I stay?
I like it here, can I stay?
Do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?
She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me equally dour
She said in the days when you were hopelessly poor
I just liked you more
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to London and I
I booked myself in at the why W.C.A.
I said I like it here, can I stay?
I like it here, can I stay?
And do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent too long on your trail
Far too long chasing your tail, oh
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
That's the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
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