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Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.

By

To relatives.

The entire series, was almost a decade ago. You expect me to sit here, and be passive as my name and effort is slandered – I watch my own parade sunshine, your escapades are for others to deem interest worthy, or note scurvy. I stand by what I write, how I write, and for whom. Anyone, questions always welcome. You stare at the cover and wonder what the words mean, but I can’t hear what you’re saying. Then again, more than likely, I could give a fuq to hear it. *jar rattles*

Enthusiasm is relative. Not a relative. Make the mistake of thinking that you are married to some kind of blood kin, that is supposed to come rushing out of you like unbridled enthusiasm, and deep breath – and you are cooked.

Some like to take things to a point, and then are willing to walk away from them, even when there is residual value in them, they have become so exasperated by the struggle, but the effort, by the cause that may or may not have been treated with the fair and right regal attention it deserved, but then again, that is what has allowed us today to capitalize on the failures of the past.

The lessons they learned, from succeeding to move the bar, or the ones that were failures inspiring a new line of thinking, all the way to the one’s that have allowed us to see man truly flying on his own. In the air, on a prayer.

For the thrill, for the purpose.

To not be away from it. To peer at the thrill of it all, and know that life is worth living only when the seize of insomnia ask for no permission they know will never be granted.

Life is precious, in any regard.
Wake the fuck up and live it.
Today.
Now.

You are in a position that is “close to the edge”?

This is where success, separates from “them” who stand on the edge and don’t jump for the thrill.

Fucking pussies.
I was there.
Once.

Many times actually, but that is a collective once now.

The Man in the Arena, “if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

I will not stop daring.
I will not stop trying.
I will not allow someone to just smirk at the sand.
I will not abide.
I will not try.

(licks pin on brine grenade, filled with belief every morning upon awakening, I carry it on me at all times, and reloads are always near by)

Each particle, each fragment – united, it becomes a greater force. A clearer image, filled with the pixels of purpose and the thorns to be rested on the weary head that must shield their eyes, their orifices, their very souls from the cerebral tsunami before them.

That is ok sunshine, stay in the concrete tent.
That is where your God has asked to stay, serve the rebar.

If you mix your effort with cloak, it will go awry He said, and still you decided to press. Remove the caramel and sugar coated textile from the tin, and dance with the sure grin on the fluoride tainted taste provide by the Machine.

Follow at your own will, and under your prowess.

Blessings, once aboden, become surety.

Bounties on the soul, with actions and flaming fuqtardation to espouse matrimony with mental mavericks or midgets.

Listen, to the call of the loon.

Disturbance or peace, is a reflection which remains, and always shall be – relative.

To health, happiness and prosperity – the last of which, is fully defined by ourselves. The old chicken, has the juice.

What kind of side dish you want served with that corn bread, ma’am.

*abide*

By

Fact: Equity in fraud pie is free.

It doesn’t matter why I got here, I am here. So accept it. It is a wonderful place. The grass. It is fucking orange man. Regards, Gus.

— Fetaman (@fuqtarded) April 23, 2013

  • Formation skydiving piece
  • Facts or fiction?

*the waiver is the fictional side of the clause, and what you want to make of it. This story has been included within “The Equation” with one intention in mind. To have you consider each of the following quotes, as the main “lessons” or discussion points as I am not a teacher, I am merely an observer and providing some “fiction” for you to consider as real or not.

What you do with it, and where you want to go with it – that will be the truth. Only that is going to set you free, like telling the truth from my perspective, and how some things just happened to be – so why not, a fictional take on what was a very lucid dream.

  • “Honest criticism means nothing: what one wants is unrestrained passion, fire for fire.” – Henry Miller
  • “Fame is a vapor, popularity is an accident, money takes wings, those who cheer you today may curse you tomorrow. The only thing that endures is character.” Horace Greeley
  • “Kites rise highest against the wind – not with it.” – Sir Winston Churchill
  • “Politics is the art of controlling your environment.” – Hunter S. Thompson
  • “I have feelings too. I am still human. All I want is to be loved, for myself and for my talent.” – Marilyn Monroe

So close, one would be able to almost touch it – if they dare.

No need to worry, their whole world was a silly series of clouds and manifestations of things that had one set of senses tingling, while another entirely went the way of the electronic transfers and where it goes from there – no body knows.

If you have been invited to review a copy of this subset equation, you have been given an invitation to extend a hand and help out. Provide more of a lending hand, and do some diligence yourself. This has a great deal of importance for any interested 3rd parties, and I suggest you consider some of the characters at a deeper point of brooding should you choose to extend the invitation more. As for professional interests, examined on a case by case basis.

People will automatically remove a foreign social atmosphere participant using tools to keep timelines and data clean, but will not take a little bit of time to “dismiss” the whole concept of what and why certain things have happened, and I sit here the humbled fool? Perhaps if I were busier, and did not care- I do care right?

Oh wait, you are under the impression – good place to be.

Perhaps my “wealth” is not what it once was thought of as such? One thing for certain – the methodology, and the manner by which these teams accomplish what they do is indeed a spectacle in and of itself, and should be applauded at the same as it is lauded.

This is the world that we are living in, and if the example cuts a little too close it is because you are in no way, shape or form able to form the real cognitive thought to see it for what it really is, and I ask for your forgiveness.

Whichever of the two pills you choose to take, is your own, and I shall not judge you for it.

Never mind the two foot tall rabbit, he is with Alice.

She is “elite”.

The whole scam and how it works, from tip to tail, and the way that certain tax loopholes and organizations will be set up to run this way, and allow people to make money in other ways.

It is only you, if you make it so.

You should leave the star if it matters, if it does not, it was not meant to stay.

Either way we can not all be responsible for everyone, we first must be true to ourselves. That is why you see me “avoid” certain people now.

Liars, gossip mongers – cowards…all of them fools. and I the greater for making the choice to pick up their book. So I choose not to.

That does not make me cruel, but rather prevents another cruelty – and that, that is the greater good.

 *abide*

By

One small step…?

It is a small step?

It was a small undertaking, unimportant.

iGus peers from the shadows of “fiction”.

I abide.

Oh, how the truth does set one free.

Cowards need not apply, liars lay in thine grass.

No issue, I own my miles, in my gulch.

The grass is orange.

Fuck you cancer, we win…again.

μάνα, για πάντα στην καρδιά μου.

*abide*

02-16-2013 

By

El Insecto

fetaman, fetaChops, fetaChop, brinesanity, iFeta, fetacabulary, raw, fuck liars

All pictures are a project, and hanging them, has very little to do with shame, and everything to do with how you choose to tie your own room together.

A door sliding open with the tender interest in allowing her to pass the cold steel with the blink of an eye, leaving it in her cloud of confidence, as she framed the single click of her heel seconds before the carpet captured her imprint as a cushion.

It was not possible to forget the red on the balance sheet did not seem so pleased to see, but she was able to begin to feel the sepia yellow that had been created by the silicon and the new lights the corporation had put up. It was almost unbearable on those other days, when she came here to stay, before.

The walk was a tempo, a calm union of a pearled brass circle that hummed with the touch of the brush. Long legs, and beautiful straps that were the call of many to their death at the boardroom table, or at the annual holiday events, assured themselves of the reasons they had been told to carry on.

The environment was clean, always is. That is why she racked up so many points, being away from the family. Her husband.

What a fucking asshole.

This was just one of the things she had to do, to keep the family together. It was all just part of the game.

There was never a chance of her being seen here. This was her special place, and she was able to freely touch any string she wanted to. Like the days she used to sing her own song, not having to wait for another to catch the same note. The tones were always right, and she was to tune the way she wanted to.

This was her symphony, and she was paid to take charge of mitigating the discomfort, and bringing in its stead, a calming glory that is understood only when the lines are drawn by hand.

She had time, and undressed. She would take a bath, and take advantage of the perks. Olive oil fusion, bringing the branch that would be held, and imagined as such, closer to his truncated fantasies. Scratching the window to an inner soul, hoping the mark is aural.

The rustling of the bushes of the bushes would never be heard over the trees. The forest was a place that was filled with all things natural, and it was natural to feel loved again. To feel wanted. To turn to the words of a stranger, and feel a love, and a closeness, different than any other kind you could even imagine, would mean having to perform, and she ached to perform.

It was her calling, and the audience that she had admitted to her seen, was no longer one that could satisfy her as a woman. A muse, that was capable of enchanting and thrilling.

Duration was always her focal point. Longevity, in life, in love, in lust, holding it to some kind of imaginary light, hoping to understand how long it would last, as she liked it, knowing that it was just like her own bit alias. It was her, who felt somewhat timid in trying to reach out to literal strangers, for direction and advice, but never having been a timid woman, she approached it with some discretion and a scalpel forged of caution.

Any limb catching anything that could cause harm to the body, was a severance gladly paid for a compensated reality, more blessed without it.

Mens. Fucking. Rea.

She sat and looked at the delicate rubber ducky, and thought of her child. This precious being that she had created, her forced smile came naturally. Intelligent conversation, and humor, is never a bother. Again, it is, just what was.

The door had been left open, and he knew it would be. It was nunca saldre de ella, he was in it. That was what made the experience such a dance.

He wanted the full GFE. There was little else there was time for, and somehow, it created the stir. A magic longing, for this creature, so small, so dirty, so indestructible, that you had to both despise and lust for it.

It was just natural.

Keeping it out in that kind of open, them, and watching people just pass by it all – kind of like a Coelhoen way, of being the way, that some write.

Maktub.

It is over, and somehow, never ends.

*abide*

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Tuesday two steppin’

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I think this whole thing is a joke, and no one wants to speak out about it…why to avoid hurting poker? No the only way we are going to accept what the truth is with what has happened, is to be able to accept that what happened has happened, but do not try to fucking make me be an absolute asshole and believe that you did not know about separate accounts, or the need to keep your business, separate from the bitch you sleep beside? Really, so you are married – I was not speaking about your wife in the first place, so that folks do not think I was being cryptic, or evasive, really.

Fuck, and you sat on a board, that had all of this “common sense” – you are fucking poker player’s man, no one wants to compare you to a fucking CEO dude, you are a poker player, with some smart friends, that managed to make sure that the ultimate uber-level, this fantastic “usual suspects” (*does this strike a nerve, am I going to get some kind of ninja assassin to come back over to my place and just simply kill me?)

Holy shit, I can not believe I am watching this shit transpire, and I am at the 29:14 mark of the second video, and I had to do this, and then somehow tie it back to my site, the same kind of shit happened, with the wrong one’s getting the lime light, and somehow, the one’s that did all the work got fucked – sounds like some kind of bad WSOP tournament outcome…fucking jiving me?

Fucking joke, but then again, so is society, it is some bastard child that came out of the ass of Mary herself after she got pegged by Satan’s sister with a strap-on, a crucifix, a dead child hanging off her necklace, and laughing tax-man taking more than your soul to pay these bills.

Wow – this can be a real fucking gig, but there will be ZERO tolerance. The fucking liars, the cheats, the fucking pricks that do not simply stand there and say, yeah, it was a fucking gruesome bullshit taco – but someone needed to eat it, and I did not want to, nor do I – what do you want me to do? Wear a fucking carrot suit? I will, just make Annie the fucking broccoli.

I am guilty by association if I lay in a den of crack addicts, and this man can have stood at the alter of licking the cheat salt of the choda of Christ, well Jesus, and we now get to watch some half-assed attempt at a fucking Nixon tapes twat “asking the hard questions” – wow, I can’t believe I had to sign up here to do it, and I can assure you, TG the reason, not that fucking pussy licking the balls of the real dog now.

Say it like you mean it, and be true to it.

lmao  *e-thug sign inserted here*

fucking bullshit.

I really wonder if he will look that fucking good in prison – please, just stop this bullshit about giving folks the goods, when they provide some goods back to the right department – this is law? This is common sense? This is the reason that we get to advance a society and hope that we can make a real difference?

Yeah, funk and games.

What a fucking well orchestrated script eh? I mean, a genuine re-re-re-re-re-re-re – fuck, exponent, unreal dimension raise.

Who else could convince him to come back to actually do this sitting with the right ‘reporter’?

Really, you can not stand in front of a jury of respected peers, or minds and answer this question?

It will be too hard?

Like the nights you left the other’s sleepless wondering how the followed down this road of learned wisdom and followings from other’s only to come to the same realization that Locke did? I would think that is my Locke of the day right now in fact, thank you very much. As I sit here and listen to some of the shit that you are spewing, as the corner of the screen hinders my vision from your eye’s time to time, fret not, I will come back and watch this again, and again – how many times?

I am not sure, does it matter? You are going to always be the same, the words, are always going to mean what you want them to, and when you try to seek the mighty banhammer, the God’s will surely find a quick hand to lay down on your breath, and shush you back to sleep.

Fuck.

Making me puke, but then again, the idiot’s, the fool’s, the lemmings – they all grow, the move down the stream, do they remember the readings from mr. t. caum? Do they recall they scandals of the last spawn?

Do they remember the rubbing of sticks to create fire, as they heat the knife of Mac, who ran off with cheese to create a fortune, a fraction of a noodle and dehydrated curd at a time?

Woe is me fine sir, I have sat there, did not know that at 2:14 of the third episode, this douchebag could actually say, we “were never shown” that, or for that matter “no shareholder, was ever shown that…” – oh the mystery of the fine silk

So are you claiming here that you never saw “that particular” one, or something like it in fact? That you never even inquired about how that state of affairs might be – that as Rome was fucking burning, somehow, you sat there pretending your ass and thumb could create another great “iron-tard” competition to see how man tards would lift the weight of time, and health, and sleep, and effort, and study, and play – to become an IronTard © for FTP VPP’s…yes, you can become a Zeus Factor Player, simply keep passing us cash, and we will keep selling you gas, as we grope your wife’s ass, and then look around the life you lead for more sass…Jordan, one fine river, no?

Are you for fucking real Howard? I mean, please at least wear some kind of skull and crossbones fucking flag across your forehead to declare you are a dickhead, a major fucking mark of wtf on the IQ of the intelligent one’s, but don’t put me in that category…do you really think that somehow I would fall for it, and do something that may make me regret my last breath – like deposit on FTP after this?

I love the fucking game, it is fun, but it is not my life, and I will not let my life get taken by it – I will be entertained, I will win by luck or by crooked fate falling on the fucking cunts that try to bypass Abide Blvd.

The truth is, you can get to your Boulevard of Broken Dreams, with passing Abide.

You fight it, and it – well, it eats you only if you are lucky enough to have eaten the bar in the first place, sarsaparilla in hand or not…

I know this is jumping and I will go back and fill in some more of the review on the second go, but is he saying around 4:50 (3) that he is “offended” as a BOD, that he was “never made aware of this” – are you fucking kidding me – you KNOW it went into a 9-digit range, and then sit back and state, oh yeah, well, we should have seen some paper come across the desk, or at least the Bat signal go off…

You are a genuine con man dude. A fucking pos, that happened to hit some money with poker, and ran like a fucking con-man running well and now, I really do hope, not for the sake of poer, or letting many lemmings, as well as some real, innocent and genuine people – no I hope for the sake of humanity, pieces of shit like you are fed to wolves. For entertainment, the same way you can laugh with the champagne and the cars as you pass that poor bastard with the shopping cart heading into the caverns of the sewage you spew.

That way.
That same contempt, but mutated into my own malfeasance, covered with the icing of being able to know what a real fucking waste of space life has become.

Speaking of wasted space, I love the professional duckface leading up to 7:30 where he brushes off the “backlog” as well, would not have been an issue if we had money (insert slipper slope, or a slippery slope fallacy reference here for those that might appreciate the humor, and like a dog moving from side to side via it’s own tale) – yeah, we know we had small anecdotal stories about missing buy-ins, or couple days late with a syntax issue or digit issue from someone, no big woop – yes, that is a great place to draw a parallel – please, connect the 9 digits of backlog, with a “handful” of issues each day? Is that fair Howard?

Fuck you are good – did you do nothing but practice this off of the shit that Phil did post-UB? Look at him now, skating through it all, being so grand – is he not so pretty?

You can be too, just figure out what the old lady in the shoe was looking to do, and then move from there.

(*insert waterphone, or acid reference here, some kind of youtube video may be too long and ISP issue – go with quicker feta/fuck you asshole bullet…)

Oh yes, the 10th commandment was to use the world “clearly, they were hiding something in Dublin” – so let’s NOT go over there and ask questions, or fuck, based on the madness, even knock on the crack dealer’s door and inquire about any peculiar noises they may have heard – shit, you folks are crushing the DOJ, the State, the people – you can stare into those eyes, and repeat “well, what did YOU see?”

Say it enough times, and begins to sound like, well, what did you pee – no actually, it sounds like that almost right off the bat – I like turtles.

Same kind of logic, no?

We are far, there is an issue – bake cake, sing, dance – it is all good, see/hear/speak evil is so under-the-radar.

Pardon, how?

Easy, the amount of bullshit just piled so high, they had to move the radar higher, grown swell effect.

(*insert picture of ferris wheel, circus, some kind of funny show time/vaudeville bullshit – inject some laugh, this is getting pretty hardcore) – so onward, and I guess, supposed to be looking odd for using diff syntax, omg – like – totally…karma man – fucking chinks bombed us – sell them – steal fire – survive.

Where on the fucking scale are you, how do you think you are that much different than the rest of the world, and all it brought to this table.

Oh wait, yeah, you invented poker and how to scam.

Were you part of the original “star chamber”, or just the MLM off-shoot of it you got dragged into thanks to those negatives with you and Lee Jones, yeah a whole slew of pure pos-lemonade who know just how lovely, delightful, magnificent the blessing and parting are.

Salt atop a sardine, swim on top of swine. Toast with the most jam and the last butter on the block, and I do not mean the marlmelade or anything else like it.

Can you hear the words that are going to be coming fro your mouth, or have you closed you eyes and tried to at least type the last paragraph as yu prepare for you life in blindness.

Then they ask why so angry – because I am going blind, because I have the cancer, or the bad jeans, and somehow assholes like this fucking cunt, are allowed to walk.

LOL *head smack*

With a mess like this at 10:20, how was there still distributions? He is claiming innocence, post April 15 – “of course we need to find an investor, or fix this problem – if only we knew in Decemer or January…it was not us, it was HIM!”

Beware the drowing man selling you his shirt. He does not want to sell you the shirt.

I was never shown a balance sheet, or financial document that would have suggested we were in trouble, because if I had, my immediate finance senses, so keen and honed like the landing strips on our families genitalia, I would have been able to see that, to detect, like an investment banker the discrepancies…”

Um, you know how to catch bluff’s, if they are important, and you are in the game – how the fuck did you manage to not only miss the bluff, but the game in it’s entirety?

*shakes head*

SMACKS HEAD HARD – POV HST FUNERAL ROCKET

Brilliant – it was the game, a new game, more of a challenge, with 52 cards, played in sequence, in 13 separate universes…those will provide tangets we can cross over by blowing flour and honey dust over the beams…just don’t leave the memory stick behind…whatever you do.

*abide*

(fragment of the whole document…lol…message for complete version…maybe…)

By

Wile E. Coyote – super genius

“Myths and legends die hard in America. We love them for the extra dimension they provide, the illusion of near-infinite possibility to erase the narrow confines of most men’s reality. Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of ”the rat race” is not yet final.”

Hunter S. Thompson

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Stupidity, knot cot…

“In a closed society where everybody’s guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity.”

Hunter S. Thompson