Mark Weyerhauser: Antichrist?

Yesterday I chatted with Hailstorm by Port-A-Fone and found out that Dr. Rein Pudding has been missing for three days. She's not in her office, at her country retreat, or even at the tepidarium (spa). This is a pretty big deal because Dr. Rein Pudding is one of very few wealthy, educated "straights" willing to step forward and openly do battle with those cold-blooded Sodomites, the Anunnaki.

Not long after coming out of the closet, "The Amazing" James Randi--curmudgeonly mouthpiece for the reptile overlords if there ever was one--contacted Dr. Pudding to say that her days were finally numbered, that her time was running out, and, "the dark lord, Mark Weyerhauser, will grind you to a sticky paste under the heel of his foot-shoe." (He said all this, presumably, while bending spoons--which he's very good at.)

That was March of 2011, or thereabouts, and because nothing seemed to come of it (and Randi often "talks out of his blustery ass"), Dr. Pudding let her guard down. She told Hailstorm, "I've not heard the name Mark Weyerhauser in any of the ordinary circles. Perhaps he is a digi-bot, or a [clone]."

Now we're scrambling.

If anyone knows where Dr. Rein Pudding is, or has intel on this Mark weyerhauser character, they need to contact Hailstorm through the usual channels, or email me at wbczolgosz@gmail.com

(Pictured: Mark Weyerhauser?)

Just Call Me Ear-Angel of the Morning, Baby

This is the offending organ from 3:00 AM, or so.
There is something creepily "off" about it.
Can't put my finger on it.
On the bright side, however, I do seem to be back in my body. Thank Jezus for that.

Time for Larry Fishburne's Buns of Gloryhole (TM)

I looked at my last blog, then a picture of an ear, and I ate dark rye bread, toasted with rapberry jam--tasted geat--and yet I think I'm actually out of my body. Bind in one eye and I seem ti be dodging random blobs of colored light  Where do these... oh, nevermind

Rense & Makow: Shit Just Got Real

On his Friday show, radio bigmouth Jeff Rense announced his courtly love for bitter misogynist Henry Makow, PhD. Both men met at a DNA clinic in 1997, where they were cloned from tasty host organisms. If marriage results, Rense will share Makow's "Dr." title. This is Rense's ninth cloning, Makow's eighteenth public buggering. When asked about the possibility of [cloned] children, Dr. Makow said, "Goddamnit, I'm a space lizard!" Pal David Icke, having a tug behind the curtain, blatantly disagreed.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Pancreas

Possibly, Obama's Clone Army is real... and GROWING.

This scene played out on Wednesday, behind the Lincoln Memorial, in DC:

JJ

So, KT showed me the spot where Mom's precious life was stolen from her. Just a black smudge on the tarmac, really. I would have thought it would all be blood-red, still, but I suppose blood darkens when it's left in the open, doesn't it?

JOHN

Sure. Probably.

KT

It's just... horrible.

JJ

As executor, as her favorite son, you know, I feel kind of bad that I missed the funeral. A bit selfish, actually. I had an appointment with the hypnotist—really want to kick this smoking habit—and I have to believe that Mom would have thought it was important, too. Fuck, I'm becoming a clone.

[He lights a cigarette.]

KT

Thank you for doing this, John.

JOHN

It's not a problem.

JJ

Didn't you two used to date? KT was saying something on the way over. It's cool. I think it's cool. She's not exactly a mutt, if you know what I'm saying. Her father's side of the family has good genes—all the women over there have fine asses, like my sister.

JOHN

I'm going to go to bed shortly. Tomorrow is Saturday, after all. Don't want to miss that. Got to paint my face.

JJ

Rock on. I'll see you after I'm cloned. I'll be three of me and you'll all be fuckered.

KT

Big day tomorrow, yeah. We meet with the President at nine-thirty, JJ, so you'll want to get plenty of rest, yourself. Again, John, thanks for putting him up. It means a lot.