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 Fear And Loathing In Taree.

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PostSubject: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 10:57 pm

http://sodlikeproductions.motion-forum.net/t2018-fear-and-loathing-in-taree

The Easter V8 Boat Races,Taree.


http://sodlikeproductions.motion-forum.net/t2012-easter

Billy Ruben wrote:
Cigar wrote:
The best thing about Easter is that we get a bit of time off work and also don't have to work as much or as hard. Like I give a fuck for all this religion crap anyway lol! waste of time, I hate people who go around speaking all that crap. I just take the piss outta them usually, like say on Facebook there's all kinds of religious folk about, I simply don't waste my time with 'em, if they try to add me I ignore their request Laughing


Nothing religeous about this Easter Sunday in this hillbilly town.The V8 boats are out destroying the marine habitat and chewing up the fish and next years larva,for many seasons to come,all for drooling,drunken spectators,fighting over Ford Or Chevvy donks...The scattered remnents of Chrysler fans,shrunken back,although the odd exhibit being a real contender,without crankshaft failures.

Kentucky Fried Chicken,by the river is doing the ultimate of businesses,when they should walk down to the Fish and Chip shop,a little further away to pay their last respects to the Age of Pisces,errr,I meant sweet lord Jesus...do their blue collared beer swollen bellies the world of good,the middle-class owners of boats,fair not much better,except for the swimmers.The swimmers and the various drug addicts are thin,I mean.Well Boyce St,not being far away.

There was no "Jesus Pride" like you get in America.
There was no Jesus.He was exorcised by sticks of Fairy Floss,mushy molten chocolate the kids stowed away from home,a warm Easter morning,revealing brown tracks out kids pockets...the game,was given away.The result in the usual stammer of protest as the assailant was led by the ear by ever loving mother,to slightly publicly bathe the brown thickness away,complete with kid still attached.

But gone are stale ceremonies,mumbling lines to forgotten hymms,to lamentations never understood,or felt for this unseen God.
But God is dead,fish endangered to many seasons of precarious possible extinction,all for the love of the V8 Boat Races,at this crazy mid-coast delta.

Billy Ruben

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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 10:58 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Cigar wrote:
I did enjoy your post there Billy, very well said :thumbs up:


Thankyou,'the next post will be about being farted on at the ATM,trying to get money to buy my car and the animalistic resorts people do to be noticed.Pathetic.He was a half-caste abo too.Pissed me right off.


After 4pm,then I'll do it,nicely stoned,in my Hunter S mode of mind.

:thumbs up:

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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 10:58 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Never ever get impatient with your dealer.
Better the devil you know.
I was slightly miffed,to fly back to Newcastle,after the car I purchased blew a head gasket.I spent $140 on a Jetstar flight,just to take half an ounze of kharma off his hands.A limp text message reads,call me in three weeks,I shoot one back,I just spent $140 on flights just to see him.He turned off the phone,knowing the protest will persist if he don't.

I have a few contacts in town,usually aboriginal girls.She takes a fancy to me this one.I know the chances of contacting a sexually transmitted disease is much higher with the natives,so very carefully I manouvre a pot deal without having to put out.It seems to go to plan.

I'm given a phone number to ring a house and they have to set up a meet.It's dark,after 7 and I caught a taxi into this part of town,Purfleet,the Aboriginal mission.I walk up to three wrong houses at first,with snotty nosed black kids laughed at me and called me "A fucking wanker".I ask for B...they fall silent and shake pointing to a broken down house with a broken down Ford sedan.

Welcomed through the door,was a seven foot bald monstosity,covered in gaol tattoos and war paint.The house smells,the walls are daubed in mud or dried shit from some banshee mating ritual.I looked cool,but inside was jumpy and nervous,his two right handers suss me as B and I speak.Usual suspicion,to look like they're doing your job.And they were.

As I left the mission at Purfleet,I walked down to the bridge over the manning,spying through the heavy fog that now decended,one of the right hand men followed me through the fog to the bridge and a white commodore sedan met me over the bridge,beeped it's horn and made off.I was watched the whole way back,to see if I went up Albert St or not.I made the right turn at the bridge...and not Albert,probably a real lucky man that night...






Lyrics:

Things have been tough
Without the dum dum boys
I can't seem to speak
The language
I remember how they
Used to stare at the ground
They looked as if they
Put the whole world
Looked as if they put
the whole world down


The first time I saw
the dum dum boys
I was fascinated
They just stood in front
Of the old drug store
I was most impressed
No one else was impressed
Not at all
And we'd sing
da-da-da-da-da-da
dum dum day
Where are you now my
dum dum boys are you
Alive or dead
Have you left me the last
Of the dum dum daze
Then the sun goes down
And the boys broke down


People said we were negative
They said we'd take but
we would never give
But we'd sing da-da-da
Da-da-da dum dum day
Da-da-da-da-da dum
And hope it would pay
Da-da-da-da it's been
A dumdumdum day
A dum dum day


Now I'm looking for
The dum dum boys
Where are you now
When I need your noise


Now I'm looking for
The dum dum boys
The walls close in and
I need some noise

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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 10:59 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:






Pale Horse....4lt of matt black paint,four tyres and rear and front shocks replaces,stage 3 memcal chip,bullbar and she can be next weapon.

Good cub-scout this time,be prepared.

Cub-scouts are really little Freemasons,with their rituals of initiation and differing levels of "degrees",for a little square patch of rank on your sleeve.You think military,
nah,they call it their craft and your magician levels are advertised on the sleeve.True fact,I was one,I remember these nights at elite parties and all us cub-scouts were in the pool.
They were all leering at us,even some weird women.I was very nervous that night and vomited and shit my pants.Real strange night.Hmmmmmm,memories.


:cthulhu:


Ever since making this post,memories have flooded back.Nightmare proportions.It's hard to identify those leers as we waded huddled in a small group in the middle of the pool,surrounded by the vultures that we were supposed to trust,until you grow up and understand.My father was a gaol warden then and worked as a Private Investigator on the side.I remember tip-offs and talks and mum and dad fighting over the cost of scout uniforms and another hobby that was ditched.Mother,always putting me into sports and hobbies I hated,sailing boats,tennis,catholic schools,Newington College to live,trained as a butler for the elites or into some enterprise for big corporate interest.My father resisted every move,keeping me home and protected.I think dad was right.My mothers ladder climbing always seemed to have my arse for sale.

My father removed me from that place soon after.

Not long to follow were allegations of child sex abuse,involving some cub-scout masters,some of which were mine.My father got tipped off...his tips were good.Bettable odds.And he never gambled.My mother is vermin.



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:00 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Cigar wrote:
I did enjoy your post there Billy, very well said :thumbs up:


Thankyou,'the next post will be about being farted on at the ATM,trying to get money to buy my car and the animalistic resorts people do to be noticed.Pathetic.He was a half-caste abo too.Pissed me right off.


After 4pm,then I'll do it,nicely stoned,in my Hunter S mode of mind.

:thumbs up:


Hmmmm,don't think I will.That baldy seven foot tall monstrosity I bought pot off in the above post.

He was also the farter at the ATM.

Even the satanist were scared of him.He's going to be my best new friend after the Aboriginal girls tell him about what the gubba drug dealers did to me.

Hell,I'll even tell him about this blonde coke dealing cunt from the UK who has hinted a number of times about rocking up to my place.

This is an Abo run town my spikey little demon.They notice everything and my problems are soon to come to a close.

Mark my words....try me.Or be smart and ask Michael.He runs Purfleet and told me things about the cops. and how things run here.I did'nt step foot in his street until I obtained his permission through the girls.And I'm their sweetheart,the nicest guy they know.


:thumbs up:

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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:00 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Last Friday when I picked up the second wagon,well....let's just say,an agent or friend of Mr Detective Ryan of Taree was there on the train,opposite seat to me.

He tried his propaganda but it turns out,quite the fan of Billy Rubens.

Interesting.

And to think,I might've put it all behind me.There was only 5 people in that carriage.I specifically asked for it,not affording my usual first class and segregated seat that I usually take,A7.

I got F33.

I hate the number.

Interesting.



Last Friday,walking to the station to catch the XPT for a second day in a row,thinking to myself,good it's been,no cop troubles,no sign of them.
The day is a lazy autumn,no cloud movement,those dull days,listless.But still.I welcomed the serenity.I seen two very young teenage girls coming towards me as nearing the station.My guts propelled me to use the alterante path for some reason,but the path was muddy,boggy from previous rain.

Smoking a cigarette,my habit known as I walk,I really did'nt trust this.They approach.And ask for a ciggie each.I swallowed angrily and went off at her,"Are you working for narks,coppers?.What did they send you?Are you 18,where's your ID,do you want me busted with a $5000 fine?I'm 42,you should'nt even be speaking with me,they'll call me a pervert!!!!".She was clearly shaken by this outburst,feeling rejected and unappreciated in her fuck me now hiked up denim skirt,stockings,bow tied punky white silk shirt.Her friend,who looked older,pimpled,self mutilation scars wrapped in a dirty bandage with a real prosphetic furry nose,not prosphetic,but uniquely tattooed to look like a squirrel.My eyes could'nt help focusing on that and not her eyes,curiousity absorbing me as her voice babled about being of age and able to bludge but can't offer ID...she could share one if she admitted she lied to obtain one if caught.Verbal agreement,with this suicidal squirrel.I could see lesbianism failed her miserabley.Those eyes smiling weakness in accepatnce of cigarette,but admired me when I said I'll be accused as pervert...I knew right then,this girl,was a product of daddies amusement...and abuse.








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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:01 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Thankyou Cigar...


Whitehorse cost me $530.I got booked driving uninsured,Friday,thought I might got let off,but attempted to do the right thing,by obtaining a permit.I ran out of time,she suggested I'd slept in the car,it was a Saturday.the next shift in calender,ony 6 hours away and she booked me 150metres from home,after a 155km journey.She sent the fine in the mail but left me alone for unregistered,because I wrote a letter of intent.
Fucking tail-light was out.She was a real bitch about it,said about he concern for children which i agreed with,but she left screws on the ground after ripping the plates off,I picked up mine,leaving it filmed on the onboard camera,this safety issue she cares so much about revealed a case of littering and leaving screws on the ground that could cause a hazard to safety,if propelled by the passing wheels of a car.Next step,ask magistrate if I could transmute fine into community service.If not,I'm happy with the outcome,my honesty earning the lowest in penalties.Driving in NSW unregistered can incur much heftier fines,but honesty and effort were made to comply with their regulations resulted in the lowest possible.But she was a woman and concerned,just the way they use it.She acted scared of me at the end,cause I went off at her about my two cars and getting set up for a hoax rape,I needed a break,to get these cars in order,my father ringing this week,saying the Freemasons are taking the house and they're going to live in the Masonic village,when I promised over and over,to live part time in the shed up the back,with PC and net access and a Rhodesian Ridgeback that was'nt poisoned back then.

They're just stupid and I lose the house to my most hated enemies and earn a pittance at the end...at least I put into building that place above my two brothers,but fuck it,Pudden was buried there and it was the only thing they achieved together in their miserable hate filled existances and the last final insult to all their games,I just give up to be honest.It's like they play into it or part of it and saying that,seems to fantastic and insane for me to swallow.And I don't like saying it,kooky and weird.Just makes you think...if you really knew the hell and abuse they did to all three of us,mainly me the oldest,it was unacceptable.My father was not perverted,I give him credit,evil and aggressive and thought the worst of you,yes.Mother,I don't know her,I really don't.Cold,serpentine,unfeeling,no limit to her game and I just ignore her,even said,I probably would'nt even turn up at the end.It's not that I don't want to,I just can't bare the pain of her playing it to the end,hurting herself,I'm exhausted and don't want to extend the light.


I spose my hate of the Freemasons came with the death of captain Kangaroo,a Long Bay Gaol warden killed by Peter Schneider.First name is in question.Tracked him for years,but tired now.I remember before the death,dad become part of the Mason movement,but only for a short time.I remember asking years later,why he left,he said economics,but he lied on one of the few occassions.When I learned more as I got older,finding hand written notes about theories of telepathy at the 6th degree,books on spiritual asassination,one of only 500 prints in an old Masons house,with Melchizadek priest grandson inheriting it.I calculated the time and leaving he would've been going for his third degree,Master Craftsman,I remember the notes he did at night after shift.I remember a blue folder,Square and compass,folde lettering,Master Craftsman,this is 79 mind you.He came home scared,one night,dad did and never went back to those meetings and his mason clothing went missing from the closet....soon after,his best friend,Captain Kangaroo had a hammer through his skull,being similar height and hair colouring from behind.My father was never the same or nice after that and he seems to fail to see that he licks their buttons clean to this day.
The occults were'nt the first incidence,there was quite a few
I don't like coming to that conclusion,because of conspiracy circles over willing to prove what scum they are.But when you study the misfortunes and bad luck ever since then to my whole family....this evil force,making them...insane,delusional...possessed.I was the only source of light amongst them,Shane,my brother,said something weird,when I was 26,before all the other shit,that "we were a family of demons and you were a God,what were you doing there?".Shane is the most interesting amongst them,I don't tell him I admire him for his art,but a liar all the same.My father has my respects for saving Puddens Cats life,giving me my first tools set and believing me about the occult.He even laughed about spiritual churches and took the piss out of them for healers.Clues you see.My youngest brother is a scheming fraudulant junkie who conned a compo payment and I suspect was unsuccessful in gaining the house as well,for that big hit in the sky.I just wanted to watch over fog covered mornings and tend my cats grave.Wish the trees to grow even more than they have.
My mind was always cast to the cliff face of the Wattagans.The UFO sightings,meteorites,satellites,planets,everything is so beautiful and visible out there.You can hear the clinking of automotives underground as they transport coal to Pelton Colliery.I like it there....


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:02 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Cigar wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
I spose my hate of the Freemasons came with the death of captain Kangaroo



I enjoyed that,yes I remember that one,they played these weird quirky ditties.Other music that what I would call bizarre....



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:03 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Event Number:45676311

It had driven to me to the edge,who it might be that burnt cobalt blue.The rather rare specimen of wagon,I have now stripped.I knew Taree Police would be un-cooperative and would'nt answer questions.
I I mentioned i'll have to take this to a higher office,the Ombudsman,he punched the air and went "Whoot,whoot" Senior Connstable Ingram.

After emailing the Ombudsmans Office that the officer mocked the beaurocracy and showed contempt for it's power and after all the complaints I've made,I'm more inclined to agree.

All day I was followed by detective cars...they are very hurt.


:cthulhu:





Lyrics:

1
2
1-2-2

Shiruetto ya kage ga kakumei o miteiru
Mo tengoku no giyu no kaidan wa nai2

Silhouettes and shadows
watch the revolution
No more free steps to heaven
It's no game

Ore genjitsu kara shime dasare
Nani ga okkote irunoka wakara nai
Doko ni kyokun wa arunoka
Hitobito wa yubi o orareteiru
Konna dokusaisha ni iyashime rareru nowa kanashii

I am bored from the event
I really don't understand the situation
And it's no game

Documentaries on refugees
Couples 'gainst the target
You throw a rock against the road
And it breaks into pieces
Draw the blinds on yesterday,
and it's all so much scarier
Put a bullet in my brain,
and it makes all the papers 2

Nammin no kiroku eiga
Hyoteki o se ni shita koibito tachi
Michi ni ishi o nage reba
Kona gona ni kudake
Kino ni huta o sureba
Kyohu wa masu
Ore no atama ni tama o buchi kome ba
Shinbun wa kaki tateru

So where's the moral
when people have their fingers broken2
To be insulted by these fascists
it's so degrading
And it's no game

Shut up! Shutu

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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:27 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Maybe I set the vibrations to attract,they're coming at me from everywhere.
Selling parts yesterday,two skaggy looking brutes from Newcastle buy an array of pieces for the 5sp conversion,but not buying the gearbox,which I was rather pleased with.We got discussing drugs and the early 90's being the peak of experiences,even leaving the 60's far behind,in quality and hilarity,particulary,the LSD.The two druggies,winced in pain,now knowing they could've swapped the car pieces for decent pot,which they had access too.Cash is exchanged,parts removed from inventory,they promise half an ounze on Thursday for the S-Pack dash and trip computer.Providing they have their act together in quality,I think I have a new market,solid crystal speed,is available too.Little Erin may perform for a little rock,as she's been appearing the last few days.Yes,corruption does pursue me,keep it together and not to stray down that path again.It's purity the attraction.



Erin,was an ill fated attempt to get through Sams head,that I need more than oral pacifying sexually,missing the hard thrusting of two sweating torsos,she has spinal difficulties,which is sad the position,for us both.Erin a junkie chick,who I guessed was smack,she'd do me for $50 a go,60% of the local brothel,with Malaysian hookers,that know EVERY way to please a man.It ended in disaster,Sam promising me to throw ones body and possessions out forthwith and little Erin complaining about the price,when she lacks Asian expertize,she's white,with dumb-fuck junkie boyfriends all her life.She has'nt developed techniques that she even likes unless it's self-pleasuring.White girls...so difficult.


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:29 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Maybe I set the vibrations to attract,they're coming at me from everywhere.
Selling parts yesterday,two skaggy looking brutes from Newcastle buy an array of pieces for the 5sp conversion,but not buying the gearbox,which I was rather pleased with.We got discussing drugs and the early 90's being the peak of experiences,even leaving the 60's far behind,in quality and hilarity,particulary,the LSD.The two druggies,winced in pain,now knowing they could've swapped the car pieces for decent pot,which they had access too.Cash is exchanged,parts removed from inventory,they promise half an ounze on Thursday for the S-Pack dash and trip computer.Providing they have their act together in quality,I think I have a new market,solid crystal speed,is available too.Little Erin may perform for a little rock,as she's been appearing the last few days.Yes,corruption does pursue me,keep it together and not to stray down that path again.It's purity the attraction.



Erin,was an ill fated attempt to get through Sams head,that I need more than oral pacifying sexually,missing the hard thrusting of two sweating torsos,she has spinal difficulties,which is sad the position,for us both.Erin a junkie chick,who I guessed was smack,she'd do me for $50 a go,60% of the local brothel,with Malaysian hookers,that know EVERY way to please a man.It ended in disaster,Sam promising me to throw ones body and possessions out forthwith and little Erin complaining about the price,when she lacks Asian expertize,she's white,with dumb-fuck junkie boyfriends all her life.She has'nt developed techniques that she even likes unless it's self-pleasuring.White girls...so difficult.



My attractions to Tiswas,was not always cause she'd perform for Icke,anally and let him slap her on the back of the head.She's sub-continental and at least new Kama Sutras theory from the age of 12 and performed and perfected it at the age of 18,she's 41 now,watches a bit of Max Hardcore,now that guy is a pervert scumbucket,treats the girls like human toilets,Tiswas,you just delight my inner perversities,the ultimate hardcore conspiracy chick...I am yours...

:cheese: :smiley wub: :butt: :tiphat:


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PostSubject: Fear and Loathing in East Maitland 1999   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:33 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
1999

was the year,the going got weird...and the weird like me turned pro.
It was'nt just the occults that finished it off,from Halloween,Oct 31st to January 21st 9:51pm 2000,the point they finally pierced the aura sufficiently to strip it down,back when it was established psychically occult wise,a link in telepathic group rapport,now wittled down,to basic psychotronics and "tickers" as Paul Smith,adept psychic vampire and auric vandal,explains back in 2008,due to a Godhead moment by me,defeating his and all others combined focus of light,they are nothing to my God.For my God would not do this,as it learnt the folly of energetic manipulation leads to a dependance,like a drug of addiction and corrupts the original motive,no matter how noble,to turn errant souls back to the light,the postion of playing God,corrupts and consumes,hence,Gods off-hands approach,but preferring the odd contact with the pure of heart,Leigh Hackney the healer who saved my life,is one I entrust soul too.One and only,I trust,even when he loved me.And I loved him back,his soul,being the most compatible with mine for intamacy and affection...he's just the wrong sex.And sadly so.

The Choppers were sporadic,a black bell that followed me around,witnessed my many,even following me on a train back in 1997,Metford Station,to Wyee,picked up and followed,Gordon Schubert,the owner of Twin Lakes Automotive Charmhaven,witnessed it as I spoke to him by phone at home and when Jarrod (Reptile) picked me up,took me to the workshop,it circled the workshop three times,until it seen it had witnesses,the same one I described previous two hours by phone,Black,with four thin yellow stripes,it mightr be a hire one....or worse.

It Came in low at Metford,I took all these alleys,had no mobile,was standing on the railway over pass and the chopper came low,600ft if that,aiming for my 2 Chidley St Metford house,pulled up,in mid air,rotated on the spot,left,90' degrees...where we stood,eye to eye.I was frozen,mid pass over,German Trench-coat,in black,staring into the eys of a demon,the blades whipping up the air,bravely....I eyed them off,not blinking,snarling...until it high whipped to the right,flying away,not doing the daily pass-over and loop around my house ten times,everyday...since I taunted the air-force for not catching the light vehicle that made a mockery of their air defenses,by phone,three months previous...the trouble really started from there.

I suppose writing to the Russian embassy thanking them for saving the ill-fated Sydney to Hobart race,where people died and boats sank,saving a small yacht full of racers,,I noticed the state of the ship,pristine condition and the Russian economy had collapsed,so I gave the Russians credit for maintaining good ships,when powerhouses like Asia run sub-standard shipping and ruin coastlines for profit,where the Russians strict regulations paid off.I also gave them credit,for being former soviet,but more honest than Western Governments at the time about UFO's and alien life,at a high technological state and the releasing of the information,in particular,with the Phobos Probes,both 1 and 2 and their peculiar failures en route to the Martian Orbits.I did consider the Americans as well,even them quite willing to go along with the story,hiding the military platform they already have,that dwarfs the International Space Station...a mere toothpick,10 mile long cigars....

So,gushing all this priase on the Russians and scorning our own democratic hypocrisy,by mail,hand written letter,that tied in the same time as hard-core UFO sightingS and taunting the airforce,the choppers began,witnessed by many and surprisingly,as I read about them,so many other experiences of others,was verbatim for mine,Do they have programmes out there in secret operations land,to drive people crazy and class it all under schizophrenia and lock these loonies up,but it's really happening....this is not a dream people,THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING...

:sm100: :smiley scared: :cthulhu: :smiley tiptoe:



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:35 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:


It was a real bad year for the light....1999,2002,2008,2010,2011...42 is half way through,once I'm over that hoodoo...it's cool.The Police are the worst these days,but my attitude does provoke.I love the look when they know it's me...and you choose between six months paperwork or to fuck me over...as I make an annoyance beaurocratically and build my paper trail offence law suit.


The pen,is indeed,mightier than the sword.



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:36 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
I had finished working for Steve W,a philanthropic pot dealer for the day.His old VK Commodore was off-road,unregistered.It had broken headlights,cracked screen,dents,real banger,that I outran the police in twice,it was a warning to Old Westie,don't deal in speed,it was their market,how the fuck do you net the whole network? Sell the shit at the highest level.He was already sending home the sons of funny enough,all RH- negative Freemasonic bloodline children home,asking questions about the fraternities their parents were involved with,shaking the hand-shake and revealing initiate and differing degree passwordscausing all kinds of bother and notice for the business and deliberately tripping Echelons code words for becoming "a person of interest"...but I had real troubles and Steve traded in on my notoriety and the fact,both our phone-lines were bugged,I even got mistakenly billed for the service once,meaning to go to the Police Force,the amount was removed from the bill on complaint,and apologised profusedly,to my amused Cheshire Cat Grin...you only confirmed my dear,should'nt have publicly threatened John Howards life,on the old Punkrock Forums...it's a long story,plus I was vocal with media stations,arguing over their bias.
I always blamed Richard Armitage for giving Mark Latham pancreaitus,but that's another story...


:roulette: :dizzy: :sm100:


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:38 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Another 18 year sentance with her...I think not.
The Biripi Aboriginal town clinic,has these packs of condoms.Sam stopped taking Implanon due to her back,she don't fuck anymore,except the rare occassion.Got her nice and stoned last night and banged away for over an hour,until she complained and had to think of something and somebody kinky enough,to cum instantly.Honesty now,it would'nt be her I think of,it was T,who died her hair to brunette,taken quite a shine to her.
Stupid enough to consider running away with her.Gorgeous white aborginal girl.
Anyway,you'd think,being aborginal,they'd order in the big condoms...nope,these were made for four inch China men.I broke it,did'nt realised and decorated her cervix very nicely,bit of a motherload that one.When I pulled out,shock and horror to find,there was only this black rubber ring around my throbber,that dug in and left a welt,like a slave collar does.The painful red welt is therte today,with some rather uncomfortable chaffing.I had lube there....damn it.She's just walked out the door to the docs to get the morning after pill.A mix of pot and codeine,I never noticed a thing.



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:40 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Billy Ruben wrote:
Another 18 year sentance with her...I think not.
The Biripi Aboriginal town clinic,has these packs of condoms.Sam stopped taking Implanon due to her back,she don't fuck anymore,except the rare occassion.Got her nice and stoned last night and banged away for over an hour,until she complained and had to think of something and somebody kinky enough,to cum instantly.Honesty now,it would'nt be her I think of,it was T,who died her hair to brunette,taken quite a shine to her.
Stupid enough to consider running away with her.Gorgeous white aborginal girl.
Anyway,you'd think,being aborginal,they'd order in the big condoms...nope,these were made for four inch China men.I broke it,did'nt realised and decorated her cervix very nicely,bit of a motherload that one.When I pulled out,shock and horror to find,there was only this black rubber ring around my throbber,that dug in and left a welt,like a slave collar does.The painful red welt is therte today,with some rather uncomfortable chaffing.I had lube there....damn it.She's just walked out the door to the docs to get the morning after pill.A mix of pot and codeine,I never noticed a thing.




The comedown was worse than I thought.The fifteenth cup of tea and I still can't get motivated to work.And the day is nearly over.It's 3;13pm in the afternoon,with no daylight saving,dark before 5pm.Staggering around in a dressing gown,looking 60 as I shuffle around,pains from last night,finally setting in,backs playing up to,along with the chaffing.She was wet for at least 50 minutes of it,the last 10,dried up badly,I was wondering why it got tighter.I found the left overs of the exploded condom,two thirds was still in her,but found the thrid,the worst part,the hood,I found it the worst possible way too,when I was'nt expecting,I spent three hours looking for it,thought the Pixies were playing games again,like they do with lighters and dope bags,they go missing in front of you,only to re-appear,in the same place,as if they drifted off to another dimension.

So,this black,dripping licorice flavoured condom,wet and cold stuck to my foot,I throw away in disgust,wash my feet and make tea.By the time I'm finished and feeling heavy come-down effects,I look down,to see my daughter had come,painted all ten toes in Princess Pink nail polish and gone,without being noticed...Another one like her,no way,the morning after pill only cost $6,half a pack of cigarettes,good investment.
I won't survive another bear like my daughter.Told her blokes will bash me for being a Poof,if,I drank at pubs.Then got telling her,make-up was designed for men of the Egyptian Royal court...they played Tars too,like modern day guitars...the Egyptians were the first "Glam_Rockers",but nobody ever gets it...


:dizzy: :sm100:



Hmmm,make another cup of tea,I noticed the chook was dumpster diving the kitchen bin for scaps.But something caught my eye.
This glossy goth black nail polish,on the claws of the chicken...
"Bear! What have you done!!!!!",she comes out with her smart-alec smile,"Are you dissing my fine art-work there Man?",mocking my cannabis background and insinuating I'm just a washed-out hippy.
I feel old around her,I won't even bother,like other derelict fathers of seducing her friends when they turn 18...I'm too old to be a dirty old man even.Why the fuck do men think like that?...


:sm100:


The extortionist bitch!!!!

My daughter,just took photos of my toes,then one of me in dressing gown,to prove whose toes they are,then extorted me,a packet of Jelly Beans,so she won't text send her friends by mobile phone,the pictures of my gayly coloured toes...in princess pink.Did'nt give me purple or black,fucking bright light pink.Well,at least it's not flouro.

And because I dared to sneek two lousy jelly beans,I have to spend my last $3.50,buying her a bag.

Oh she definitely takes after me....I have found my match and it is my OWN.


:cthulhu: :rolling pin:


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:41 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
One thing I do like about this town,is the old style skills you still need to get by in life,having a limited range of shopping,compared to cities and larger regional towns,like Albury,which,strange enough,Sam showed signs of interest in.And since even Asian sweat-shops are moving up the ladder,getting a few bucks a day,compared to two bowls of rice,the quality in clothing as certainly fallen,particulary with Rivers Clothing outlets.

Every bit of clothing is shedding it's buttons,threads are pulled,sleeves coming apart,fuck I'm pissed off.

So,like a good Billy Ruben/Buffalo Bill and the fact the Satanist shop become a leather boutique there in Maitland...I'm going to sowing classes.First,I'm learning to mend socks,undies,fix hems on my jeans and slacks...
Then I'm going to learn light leather stictching,repair my trench coats and finally,the sensitives of sewing together treated and tanned human skin.Yes,I'm going to cut these fucking Frankensteins and piece the fucking bastards together as my own human centipede,Yep,Arse to mouth 24/7...I'm really going to fuck them up REAL GOOOD.

But yes,I'm quite excited to go to evening sowing classes,learn the trade and tricks,gossip about how the youth of today are with the old grannies,have tea and biscuits...all mild-mannered,then I'm going to play jig-saw with my favourite fucktards early in the winter mornings,burn their corpses in the house and remove evidence,that I was ever there.Planned the road trip with three jerry-cans of fuel,so I go no where near service station cameras or those monitoring the highways...country back roads...Yes,I'm really going to fuc....oh,I did it again,I wrote out aloud,so sorry.



:cthulhu: :cthulhu: :cthulhu: :cthulhu:








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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:42 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
Disaster....
I make good on a promise,spent all morning making the girls some soup,just like they asked...I get there,greeted with a flustered T,who went real weird on me,and fucking Glenda,in her ear,playing match-maker...
All I wanted was a little respect,not even that,just a thankyou and recognise,I'm a man of my word,said I'd do it,even enjoyed making the croutons...But to see T all upset and some idiot in her ear...there was one good thing to come out of it.

T's not strong enough to think for herself,therefore,not strong enough to endure...the horrible truth about me.Like a bunny rabbit,she'd have a coronary if she realises the depths of my darkness.I love her light,although inexperienced and niave...but damned disappointed,that she'd allow others to think for her.Glad one refrains from forming links,psychic,the picture was'nt good and clear,that's when I know you're not the girl for me.Telepathic links are formed with deep friendships...Shayne Johnstone experienced that...formerly of the SRA and Banksia Landscapes...a business he formed years ago.I tried to hide that aspect,but he found it,could'nt exploit it and tried to learn it.Greed had his heart,there was no hope.Right-hand pathed that is.

But disappointed and relieved.With the girls,really I am.It just takes one bitch to ruin everything.And that's what's happening...it may turn out to be the opposite,Kylie did hint,"She loves him",as I left the place.
Why does love,do this? Why not just the joy,instead of all the perplexing and self-esteem taxing thoughts about ones worth.She's got no idea how much I'd understand,if given the chance,without all these games people play.I just can't trust anybody...why always fucking dramas,instead of getting to know each other,free of others,mis-interpretations...and lies,life that boring for everyone,is that it.Hate pathetic rumour mongers.Always some arsehole in the way,when it comes to love,romance,or even just sex.


:rolling pin:


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:43 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
My father rings today...After for three years saying he considers going to the Masonic Village...he rings and says it's the Benevolent Society that took the house,in exchange for care,treatment etc.


Why do they do this?

I nearly went on a Raise every Masonic Temple I see to the ground...this very week.He should know bt now,I carry out my threats.Maybe not straight away...but shit.

Oh well,I have my improvised attack prepared,can't waste it,use it while it's still high octane.



:cthulhu: :sm100: :catfight: :dizzy: :butt:


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:44 pm

Billy Ruben wrote:
...never do I hear my name called in this town.Three times I was named,before I recognised a voice spoke to me,let alone,being a female,which,I missed ever since leaving Budgewoi.Incognito has it's drawbacks,that being when you do crave a little human company for a chat on a level of knowledge or interest,or attraction,being unknown in a superstitious,racist,redneck backwater of a town,where single women,young,idea of a good time out is cause a domestic disturbance and carry on like an abusive marriage,even before first fucking date or first fuck.The closted homosexual community here is growing,not by desire,but necessity,as many men have tried to seduce me more than the women,who carry on,with hatred and conceit,seeing a male above their class,intellect and desire,make horrid little stories of sexual seduction and harassment,when you clearly stated your non interest on the issue concerning,"How you like me to suck your cock?",as rather repulsive and not much different from marital status,without the turn on with vulgar language....used correctly,a fine line indeed,can make one erect,cum,or walk out the door in style.


She did'nt sport a Blueberry,but the most crass of art style,but loved the off green five dollar sunglasses.Opening the trunk of the car,grabbing bags of home grown tumeric,the battered old camry wagon was still going,quite to my surprise.She immediately greeted me and went into a accusation about my last email,a year and a half ago,so what,was my reply,spreading rumours and lies in the first place,illicited,finality,in the cheapest possible form,a two kilometre walk? a nineteen cent local call? or one of a number of free emails,where the other party just has to listen and can't use lies,innuendo,or escapism,to justify their trespasses....
There was no reason,was there?,except for your subtle neurosis amplifying self identity crisis.Even though many may think,occult influences is my position,the greatest lessons on spiritual warfare and dealing with liars and covens,was the words of the New Testament and the teachings of Jesus,it made more sense than Alice Bailey and Blavatsky,mixed with high level Freemasonary,I could understand the simple concepts,for cause and affects,universal alignment,karma,whatever definition you identify with,I call it the fall-out,from astral projection and bad wizardy,laughing my arse off,when all blame me...I just show you cause and effect of your higher self,trying to wake you up,or sub-conscious quantum cliarvoyance able to predict with accuarcy due to time and spatial displacement that the mind adheres not too....True Time Travel.


I noted her car still going,remarking they burnt two of mine,who's they?I don't know...she was selling her tumeric to a restuarant connected to a pub,must do a bit of Indian I thought,but not asking.Come and see me tonight,not yet,tomorrow I'll pop in,got alot to do,she gives me a kiss and crosses the road.I asked her about the police or investigators geting in touch with her,she said no,not at all,never heard about your car burning...I was still perplexed,standing there,as she crossed the road,after kissing me...

what is really happening?.A minute or two I came out of the frozen fixture,leaning against the pedestrian switch on the traffic lights...



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PostSubject: The Frumpies - Safety First   Tue Aug 28, 2012 12:22 am

Billy Ruben wrote:

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PostSubject: Shopping Trolleys   Sun Sep 30, 2012 11:14 am

It's quite strange,but when you feed a slave market a bowl of rice per day under the barrel of military style rifles,those sweat-shop sowers who made great clothing in the 80's,had real quality to them.

But not no more.No.
Ever since these fucking corporations moved in on them in the early 90's,giving those little charlie chans $5 for 12 hour days,no,Rivers clothing has taken a great and steep dive in quality control.My buttons popped,sleeves come un-done,zippers derail.Even my Windsor Smith Boots,wore a hole through them,in two months wear,new,from $200.The very essence of our capitalist society is some other mug bastard country has slave conditions and make shit we like to buy and wear,very cheaply.We shut down our factories and lay off the staff and give welfare.Very soon,Charlie Chan is fat,making very bad clothes,cause he eats Dominoes and plays X-box.No,this will not do.

But you see,this is where it supports small business.I have to go to the sowing shop and pay for repairs that equals at times,50% of what I payed for the fucking shirt in the first place,but least I can understand her lingo and gives me a cup of tea,as I fish for divorced friends in her social circles.Amazing how things work....

and that's not really great at the moment,may I tell you.Endless nights alone.Well I was really before.The cats were more company and I miss them,a place with a cat.

cat cat cat cat
Shopping time,I remember Sam saying Sams has cheap toilet paper,we've run out and the landlord wants it from Chatham IGA...nah fuckin' way.Sams,the Crazy shop across the road,even BigW and Aldis,but I aint,paying $5:10 for four perfumed rolls that,yes,maybe soft on the rectum,but I shoot clean,1-2 wipes,smick clean,except that many a time I ate Maltesers,burning my ring,each fortnight.It takes a nack,but you can live cheaply in Taree,if you shop right.

Taking the hard to follow path,go through the underground carpark to goto Woolies and BigW,against the flow of traffic,see what's coming,up the zig-zag ramp.The sound of clutter and obscene mutterings,look up and see an overloaded trolley,two kids clinging like chimps hold to the mother Orangatang over the top,grabbing for lolly-bags,the trolley,front heavy with cases of beer,out of control,sparks flying,as it collided with the wall on the way down,narrowly missing crushing the limbs of the chimp like children.The helmsman,swearing profusely,air-borne,feet off the ground,tries to bring it under control as I hold a budget bag of toilet rolls out as a guard...$6.50 for 18,still was'nt going to protect me from the out of control trolley.

Toilet paper = 2 DT (Damage Thresh-Hold)

Shopping Trolley = +210 HP (Hit Points)

So,you see I was fucked.But amazingly,he dug his garden boot shod feet in,leaving brown smears on the smooth and glittering concrete.The trolley missed me,as I stood frozen,thinking of a better place to die,the toilet paper shield,not necessary.The children noticing order from chaos stare accusingly for spoiling their fun,the drunken helmsman,utters something Scottish,obscene,well I thought it was Scottish,only they can understand each other.It was drunken,same thing.

I was good as dead,if not,want to be dead.The result,would've been paraplegia and at least a few ribs impaling the lungs,if not heart.Broken legs and un-pretty face.But he pulled up...I had nowhere to go,death by trolley,after all that's happened.


Suspect Suspect


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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Wed Oct 24, 2012 10:33 pm

I got to get the fuck out of this town.
Most loathed by the Police,The Probations Office,The Ombudsman,in fact the local populace that I know of,the racist,the drugged out,the car hoon,the multitude,ney,avalanche of slightly fascist redneck,only adored by the few shop keepers and assistants that work there...and that was hard earnt as well.

It's not like East Maitland with it's huge occult family and connected friends and associates,on nearly every corner...no bizarre RAAF Jet fighters attempt intercepts of UFO and light speed anomalies,no pumpkin headed aliens running through portals they create in front of you,funny enough,the occult flat later on,same fuckin' place,the flat owned by Mary Braun,a high caste bloodline and priestess,a woman to fear,but you only find out too late...when she's struck.

No,just the bland thuggery of the police and they're hillbilly connections.I'm now getting abuse from all angles,so tread carefully,I will.

Running to Forster is no solution,the other day,someone pulled up,white commodore wagon,bald headed guy,one of the cops from Taree,can't think of his name,screamed "Arsehole,yeah,you arsehole",cause I did the same thing to Barry in Taree police,but fair cop,it was in their station,while on duty,this fucker was off-duty in plain clothes.So if I get beat up,you know where it really comes from.



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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Fri Oct 26, 2012 5:34 am

...Bit loose with the truth are'nt they.
Mr Cook is so dangerous,should be sectioned off the street.Gone shopping yesterday,it's the heavy stuff,I get the water,20litres,,two suit-cases I bought from the Anglican Op-shop that's in the lower level of the Masonic hall,I had my eye on a black dinner suit,but got to watch my weight with that one.While single,I've stayed a nice 82 kilos,sometimes 80.5,but this suit looks good tight.At home,86-87 kilos,puff up from the good life and not walking 4-10 kilometres everyday.

I replaced the tupperware and stove top covers,that I burnt the very first week I moved here.Moving out soon,so doing the right thing as I go.Oh and the Cornettos I ate without asking.Ice-cream and lamb rissoles,lettuce,tomatoes.Swing in,there's Mrs Towers,my probation officer,the one I complained about to the ombudsman.Hit next aisle,there's senior constable Blink,doing his check-list.He did'nt have his kid in tow today,leaving him on a footpath,hiding in a doorway of a shop from me,exposing his son alone to Mr Dangerous Cook.

They failed breaking me with the system,described me as some threat,yet,I go shopping,see them all the time,never once a word spoken,never a vile look given,but when they do my character assessments,they're ignoring the truth as always,I could'nt give a fuck about them.I don't feed them hate,I give nothing,when they expect it,almost demand,that energy vampirism.Cowards to me,I get the worst reports,but yet they can go about their daily lives,unmolested in anyway,but they never ever put that down.







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PostSubject: Re: Fear And Loathing In Taree.   Sat Jun 22, 2013 12:52 pm

Short people are a problem.If you're a dirty street fighting type that can't kick high,you got to learn to duck and upper cut the nut-sack.They usually bend over and as you come up,you use the back of your head to mash their faces in.You can't do that with short people.Watch them most,been eyeing off this local OompaLoompa,this psycho dwarf that gets around town,threatens everybody when he's on the speed.Thought about murdering him,follow him from the shadows,cause he's evil and my shop of horrors needs feeding.He better watch his step.He was all tough and threatening by day,at night alone,as you hear my foot-steps pace him on a cold and windy night,past the high-school,I screech and bats,maybe a dozen of them take flight from trees...I know the area well.He looks over his shoulders,the fear's set in,coupled with the paranoia bad street speed does.

Those eyes all wide,unblinking,the footsteps quicken,he breaks into a sprint....I fall behind a tree,stifling the laughter,,squelching it with my hands,little sounds escape through my fingers,the timing was immaculate.
Full moon too.

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