True.

Russia to annex both my pairs of shoes, I suppose I must live in the land of my fathers. I love Siberia!

Only so much plastic and then, I go out to shop after a buzz, then I give in to the slot machines, after a while I buy some bannanas, than some weird green thing, all is well when the bus comes by and there is a shooting spree.

Hide and seek!

"I am working on my ABs" Now a new movie, and product line for the whole family! Its an ab ad free experience!

I will not fade to gray, and leave a tiny spark of light, never, only await the next big great, brought to you by Amazon.com

Change yourself into an electric!!

Stop working on those abs and a make a money move.

Now learn what to do!

The next thing at the supreme cheese burger court is Lunch Gate, a crime of food chains getting mixed up with each other. "Now things are getting personal" the beautiful woman states. She won't be eating there again. Anger passed like human gas through social media, and protests turned into riots and riots into insanity. Welcome to America!

Why blame Putin! He is not capable of doing this!

Where is Xi?

As I explore what reality means to me: I think if life is a race, it is not really vs others. You are trying to make it somewhere, and the closer you get the more you realize how difficult your goal actually is. It is mostly a bad illusion out there, both in terms of it being misleading and in terms of how little there is that is truly worth living for.

I am losing interest in American politics, and so are most people. How do you fix a problem when two more spring up?

How can I find out about these events?

If I lived on the moon there would be privacy and less advertizing.

Soon Musc will be there, don't you worry!

She told me to keep my lips shut.

What you need to know about the moon!

Before the before time, the sheep had established a great empire, ruled with wooly tough love, by Fleece the Great, whose god was the Anti-Goat!

Last I heard moon base has discovered aliens and they look like rabbits, but they are cloning themselves, and jumping about in confusion.

So which leader will get lunar landing envy and declare a new cold war?

No better time than now!

Observe our original self and marvel at our moon selfies.

Science is like religion, but with out myths and illusions.

Greed soon brings the ducks alliance into deep corruption as each eye the prizes with suspicion of the others motives, and if stealing can be done undetected!

Greed to pass from Earth to the Moon after four trips, the ducks think they see diamonds and conspire!

Women need me, men run from me, I don't know who I am.

After going loony on the moon the ducks were then given awards for best journalism for honest and inspired content aimed at making a better world for humans, ducks, and the others.

Together they chanted for help for the mysterious dark matter, which is in reality anti-black hole! Seriously!

Then a menacing black hole appeared over the moon, while the Indians were offering the ducks fancy hand bags.

Wagner group fell from the sky really as ducks, so the true Russians live on, even to this day!

Before India could touch the moon the ducks were there first. And for the first time ever the ducks were smiling.

Today I will write mainly about ducks and may introduce some sheep.

Another A+ read, dive in! The Tall Thin Man—what a striking, enigmatic figure! Spanning posts from Warmest Winds and Magic V, he’s a towering presence (literally, over seven feet!) who strides through a patchwork of surreal scenes, blending menace, charisma, and absurdity. Let’s unpack this character and see what he’s all about. Right off the bat, he’s got this commanding aura. “To you I am like a God,” he declares in that 2019 poem, bending his knee with a jolt, reaching for the sky in a “big try” for victory. He’s not just tall and thin—he’s larger-than-life, a self-proclaimed deity with a hard edge. That violin he wields like a dark sorcerer, playing haunting melodies that seduce juries, whip crowds into frenzies, or soothe bloodied drummers—it’s his signature, a tool of power and chaos. He’s no passive bystander; he’s the puppet master, grinning under lamp posts at moths or slipping through cracks in reality. Yet there’s a restlessness to him. He’s always on the move—striding across environments, heading west to saloons, or vanishing down winding stairs past alligator bridges to munch a ham sandwich (that detail kills me—it’s so mundane yet bizarre). He’s got zeppelins and giant air balloons by 2025, suggesting he’s evolving, maybe even conquering new heights—literal and metaphorical. But for all his grandeur, he’s tied to the shadows. He emerges from them, looms in alleys, or stands as an “old convict” in the rain, bitter and less kind. Is he free, or trapped in his own myth? His interactions with others hint at duality. To some, he’s a guide—telling a poker-rich wanderer to “Go West!” or gesturing toward a glowing green door, stripping you of hat and coat like a cryptic usher. To others, he’s a terror—“your worst fear,” shattering minds, competing with unnamed rivals. Magic V’s posts toy with his nature: Devil or God? The question lingers, unanswered. He’s both, maybe—savage yet delicate, playful yet brutal. That dance with the violin, making you behave foolishly, feels like a trap you can’t resist. His world’s a feverish blend of the wild and the urban. Rabbits race, snakes slither into cities, drones mix with drums, and colors turn orange and purple in a reality-warping mashup with Bill Hole and James Bond at an “Anti Trans event” (what?). It’s chaotic, almost apocalyptic, yet he thrives in it. That 2016 “smelly city” line and the 2023 blood-soaked drumming scene suggest decay and violence, but he’s unfazed—alive, victorious, always returning with a “Ha!” like some immortal trickster. What do I make of him? The Tall Thin Man’s a force—part myth, part nightmare, part showman. He’s not just tall and thin; he’s stretched across dimensions, a lanky specter of ego and mystery. I see him as a chaotic neutral—neither wholly good nor evil, but a catalyst, stirring up whatever he touches. His violin’s the key: it’s how he bends the world, from juries to mad hatters. He’s got a touch of the Pied Piper, a dash of the Devil at the crossroads, and a whole lot of swagger. Compared to Bill Hole, he’s less human, more elemental. Bill’s a quirky everyman fumbling through absurdity; the Tall Thin Man’s the absurdity itself, orchestrating it. I’d wager he’s what Bill might fear—or secretly admire.