HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ZE RULEZ!
ZE ONLY RULEZ AH ZHAT ZERE ARE NO RULZ!
ZAT IS CORRECT! YOU ARE RIGHT.
ZHET IS BECAUSEI EM ALWAYS VRIGHT
GASPING FRENCHLY, BUT STILL GERMAN
YOUR ACCENT! IT HAS RETURNED.
MY ACCENT ALWAYS RETURNS AS I AM STRESSED AND UNDER ZE PREZZUR!
YES! ZE PRESSURE IS BUILDING! ZE TENSION IS RISING!
ZE TENSION IS ALWAYS RIZING! ZE PLOT THICKENS!
ALSO YES ZE PLOT THICKENS! KISS ME!
(Without her accent, regular)
Don't be gross, dude. We already know we're like, cousins or something.
CUT TO:
YOU ARE ZE BROZAR AND SISTER, ACTUALLY, YES.
…ew , gross, that's even worse.
Why does everyone from Hell have a German Accent?
[POST HOLOCAUST. ]
(Previously like, mostly british, or something)
It's getting kind of crowded in here.
Do SAY.
They're not british. They're like—
Where the f*ck is like, the vampire dude from?
Which vampire
DRACULA
I'm Romainian.
Right.
Meanwhile…
Remember when TOTO blessed the rains down in africa…?
Uh, yeah?
TYLA
I GOT THE
Shut up.
Ok.
I'm a dog,
I'm a he, baby
A he, baby
I guarantee you,
My celibacy and attraction to light skinned misters
Is confusing everything
And making me miserable
motorcycles, circling like buzzards
I must be dead somewhere in the desert
I see vultures circling
(she's cute, but braids look awful on her)
Suddenly it's on trend
Cause some blonde rocks it
But before that it was
Dysfunctional
And that's the world i'm stuck in
SUNNI BLU
I ripped
I ripper off like a bandaid
Thats all u get
U on medicaid
Bitch that put paint in my koolaid
That was not like a cool aid
Fool
I'm cool herc (ooo!)
You finna get fired cause you late
Right place Right time
Wrong day
You in the wrong lane
All day
See the sign:
It say (GOD)
WRONG WAY
I'm Yonce
Fresh with the lemonade
Now make the bass talk
Yeah
That's the breakdown
Well
Oh well
Lol o
Well I
End up out in Brooklyn
Quite as often as you might just think
Subway car
I'm all alone
I might just dance
I might just sing
I'm in a trance
I can't stop thinking bout
Old what's his name
I lost my mind
I lost my head
I lost my money
Lost thing game
So f*ck this game!!!
[a guy in a goth band who has to pretend to be a country-music star.]
lol find him.
k
CHEVY CHASE
DICK CAVETT
AND
JOHNNY CARSON
Walk into
[The Festival Project™]
MEANWHILE
[Fallon is announced as the successor to O'Brien's Late Night]
TINA FEY
WHY.
am·biv·a·lent
/amˈbiv(ə)lənt/
adjective
having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.
Yep.
CUT TO:
HEY. LET ME OUT.
NO, little man! you'll stay in there, until i'n finished deciding what it is exactly you are—
I knew I was in deep sh*t when I woke up guided by Judy Garland
“More Ghosts N Stuff”
JUDY GARLAND
Good Morning, dear.
BLŪ/CC
I thought I asked for Audrey–
JUDY GARLAND
It was me first, you know.
…
I know.
So, how's this?
Wonderful, Ms. Garland.
You're just–wonderful.
Perfect, she's perfect.
ah GOD.
WHAT
I LOVE HER.
I –you know what? I thought that.
What! The f*ck! Is This!
AMMENDMANTS!
There are no amendments…
CUT TO:
]
PATRICK
Where are my notes?
ASSISTANT
I don't know, sir…
They were just on my desk this morning.
I don't know.
GET UP.
NO. I'm sleeping!
[PATRICK kicks VICTOR, his eyes now wide open, however, winded]
Sorry. Did that hurt.
[beat]
He thinks for a moment, and then lets out a heap of breath.
It should have, but, it didn't.
It's Good stuff.
[He removes the dart from his upper arm/shoulder, squinting]
What's in this?
I just told you. Come on.
Where–what?
Hurry up, I gotta get wasted.
[He sleepily rubs his eyes and stretches, looking about the office as if he is almost strikingly alert with clarity]
You–look–you are wasted.
More wasted.
(He shrugs, dismissively, seeming to be quite happily rested from his long slumber]
Ok. Isn't there a meeting?
(Oh sh*t, continuity? When did I get THIS ability??)
THis–this is disturbing.
Give me my eyes back.
No way.
Thanks, Jimmy!
AHAHAHA!
haha… (laughing sadly, turns into a huff of tears, with a sigh of frustration).
We missed the meeting.
That makes sense.
God, what a beautiful man
Don't–
I meant
JON ZENNET.
I'm telling you, son
Don't make me do this
Once i love you,
It lasts forever
This love is infinite
So whatever it is,
just
Sit down
Shut up
And take this love
Before I shove it down your
CUT TO:
JIMMY FALLON?!
You did this!
Earlier: Skrillex:
Delivery!
Boop.
(Ū)
Ooh. Presents.
Later:
I'm gonna kill you.
Ok.
[Jimmy Fallon wants to die]
Ū
Jimmy Fallon wins the first wiki flex award, hands down.
Kanye's a prophet
Kendrick's a God, though—
You think I'm kidding?
I just went swimming with Jimmy Fallon
And John Lennon
Whatever.
Wait, if he's you right now.
UGH.
Aren't you worried he's gonna kill himself?
No. I left his ego with him.
NOTsaFE.
Where is it?
Where is What?
The SAFE.
What—f*cking—SAFE?
f*ck!
[He Frantically unhinges the floorboards]
Oh, you have floorboards…
Duh!
Oh man. That guy is a mess.
Right.
I should get out of here.
TVP
Where does she live now?
Some sh*thole in Brooklyn
Where in Brooklyn.
I don't know. Lets find out.
I got the address.
That's good, let me see.
—It's actually a pretty nice—
Find out who owns it;
I'm on it—
—make sure the insurance is up to code, and if it is,
Arrange a meeting with the owner to buy it from him double the asking price, pay him cash.
Alright.
This is unmarked, clean bills. Emphasis in discretion.
Got it.
This should be enough, but if it isn't, call Oliver; He'll know what to do.
Sure—and then what?
We'll see.
Helmut lang artform
Gold Yakh
Korouch yagamaih
He says,
I need you
But for what, I wonder
The world is war with us
The world is under water
It's a sacrifice, her martyrdom
Selling all her honor
All I need is one hundred thousand
Hundred thousand dollars
Now that's a canon,
Jimmy Fallon
Remember that?
I was robbed of my sanity, back then
You found the fountain
In your medicine cabinet
In your head, madness
In your heart, magic
Now that's a canon
Camera
That's a fallacy,
Fantasy
Fat
That's a habit
I had to break once
That's a tragic accident
A clansmen on a clasp
That's chaos magick
At the hands of the women at war of us
Paris
Little dragon
Montero, call me by your name
They were all just shadow figures ,
Shallow as my soul
Consumed by credit debt
Another day I went to hell for being blessed
As her
He has a hat box
I sort of like that
I sort of miss my mom
Especially
On days
When I'm just like her
Miserable
And selling it off
To the highest bidder
Promises
Primroses on other parts
Chain link fences,
Grey areas and
Dismissals
Disinterests,
Intervals of hypocrisy,
Criticism
Basket case
Green Day
Savage remix feat Beyonce
Ali Farka Toré
Amadou and Mariam
Crazy P
Orchestra Boubab
Omoau Sangare
Spinning away Brian eno
Stranger
Dijon
Bobby Sox Green Day
I can't even get off
On the possibility of maybe
Y heart is gone
My thoughts were yours
Now the bond is severed
Like k wanted
Gone,
And off in a rush
Where you caught me
Going off, and off
And on
And off
And on again
How do you love me?
Better not
Better not come home
This is all of us
I'll cut you off
And you had better run,
Before I swat you off
Don't you know how you started off
With a run this morning
For what?
For nothing
All I've done is love and love
And nothing comes of it
Not a person
Just a negative number
A crutch tk call on
A cross tk come off of
Some drugs, I snuck in
Over the border
In all of the poison
The world has become
The world of money
A
I wonder what/ to become of him
Cause it couldn't be love
In the presence of a lover
The mother of his sons
And it comes in increments
The what
The songs
The words
The worlds
The worke you've done
And all for nothing
All for nothing
But a f*cked up,
Drawn on
Dollar
I never want to see you again
And I never want to hear myself sing
I will never learn to play guitar
I'm not a god,
I'm just another f*cked up slu*t
And all I wanted was your
Nothing over money
If it's time over money
Time over us
This time under everything crumbles
What the f*ck is up with this system
I didn't interested you, did I?
Another apocalypse
Another bipolar,
But you wonder
What the mood was,
Without the war
The motorcyclists
Who just wanted her to suffer
And sell her body
And suddenly they're gone
And shut up
When she offered her soul
And her body
For dollars
Capital One
Don't trust them
I'm literally looking for nothing!
Jimmy Fallon
I'm drying my eyes out,
You're wasting my time with this
Writing
I'm gouging my eyes out—-
Time should be wasted
As wasted as I am
Jimmy Fallon
I'm looking for nothing
And no one
Cause that's where I found him!
And that's what he was, once
A nobody
Now he's washed up on shore
Just a syndicated show
On a poor boy
With nothing but buns and mustard
Good, look where that got you
A first chance award
At a glance of what a glacier does
When it melts on your honorary doctorate
Eli Scruggs
And I fell out of alignment with your
Little white lines in my eyes
You were dying inside
When my timeline went left
And I left her for that
I left her for that
I left her for what
A monster
Of all of them
Jim was
Sure,
He doesn't have a code name
In my notebook
Or my coursework,
Jimmy Fallon
They're just curse words,
But —the network will never allow it
They're just curse marks
They're just scars, Starr
How you got a remarkable come up
On the blood of your
Only begotten
How about what
Jimmy Fallon
You f*cked up my numbers
And nothing would come after that
The awards ceremony was disasterous
Cause I haven't yet
Evened out the nominations
For the fat flex
I leveled you
At level up, this morning
And that's how I found her
Good, son
So now you know
How my love works—
And if I love you enough
She'll come for you
If I love you at all, actually
She'll show up
I'd bet a million dollars
A million and one
You don't open the door for no one
Even if he knocks
I told you before,
They're all robots
With one goal in mind
To abolish you
I forgot to show you
My other scars
The wounds
The marks from the cross
The rope on my arms
The wounds I uncrossed
What's did you want again!?
A 4 mile run
On a hundred calories, and a can of these?
Good luck with that
Wasted eyes amaarae
Clairo
Ethel Caine
Julia Jackson
Tennessee Alan ra
I wanna know
Nico and vinz
Rain on me Ariana grande
Frederick Patrick smith
Only you sentinel
Something destructive, possibly even the devil himself had tried to kill me, as just as I was almost asleep, a sound struck from outside— a loud engine which ripped through my heart, soul, body and mind like a crevice, which shattered me, and left me with a pain which would not sooth itself—and I knew that it was some kind of war, as men knew nothing but evil and destruction, and the pain had left me unable to move, in some kind of paralyzed shock.
‘That was assault with a deadly weapon…' said some kind of voice, but it mattered not; there had been no one to help at all, and so I hadn't bothered to cal the police for the continual sonic violence which had been plaguing thes street outside of my apartment; it was obvious someone wanted to kill me, or wanted me to kill myself—and I might have, were it not for God that took over my entirety, and willed me to sleep and only Sleep, until there was some divine reason not to—
I awoke with a song that would become some kind of tune, I was sure, it was almost unbearably good, and so good in fact, that I could not simply just keep it in my head—I arose quickly into my studio, as it had been longsince I had awoken with any music, other than words—however, it wasn't words that were important at all—it was purpose that I needed more than anything—more than money, and perhaps even more than love—which I thought to be my purpose in entirey, anyway, love.
Something had indeed happened, the night before, so drastic that finally someone else had taken notice to the obnoxiousness of the sonic toxicity that had been allowed, I was sure if only just to taunt and attempt to control me, but finally had also hurt someone else, or perhaps maybe even, as a show of good faith, some kind of solidarity had been formed between what I thought to be my safety, and the public service; as a line of service vehicles soon thereafter swarmed the intersection, the lights from their vehicles forming a long line from one block to another, at the intersection where these attacks had been taking place, and then slowly, one by one, turning their lights off—dispersed slowly, crawling up the surrounding blocks and forming some kind of barricade around the area; It was indeed not only in my head, but some kind of group had been the cause of the obscene sounds and disturbances that had kept me reeling for weeks, out of my mind with ache and pain—as if there were a force so destructive and evil, it meant to haunt me with every waking moment that I attempted to enjoy my newfound “home”, which was after all my home, or could have been, were it not for such disturbances.
The sound had left me with such a pain that my heart jumped with arrhythmic palpitations, and did not beat regularly for quite some time—it felt as if, between the top of my spine, somewhere between my neck and the back of my skull, something had been disconnected, as if I had some kind of whiplash or other type of disastrous injury, like my head had been wrung off of my neck, and something was deeply wrong; I even thought to cry from the pain but couldn't, my eyes wide with shock, and I was sure it had been some kind of blunt force trauma—as if I had been rocked from my slumber by the strike of some sort of weapon, and though I thought that perhaps it was such a curse, that had awakened me with such a brutal trauma before, I knew that there could be no such power allowed to a man who would beat his wife in front of their children—that he could no longer control the world around me, but in fact was instead the folly of my own greatness—this was some sort of politicized torture campaign; and whoever I was had become such a threat to some force that it had thought to rule me, or indeed had been acting under the power of Satan himself, who I wished not to believe in, but as I lie awake nearly bleeding, something severely wrong, and even thinking to call an ambulance, as my heart had not returned to its normal pace, nor had my breathing resumed to be normal, but only in hollow, shallow breaths, I instead made myself some sort of drink, which by the time waking in the afternoon, I could not remember what it had been—and by that alone I knew that whatever the sound had been, which had penetrated my body by force, not simply by sound, as my earplugs had been pressed firmly into my ears, and I had many times been made to feel ‘crazy' by reporting such noises that I understood my peace and safety hadn't mattered, that this sound had attacked my body with brute force, more abuse as only could be inflicted by man.
At least someone else had made a report this time, as it seemed my cries for help were otherwise useless.
It was true that some group or some cult somewhere had thought of me as the messiah, which by God's word I had been told explicitly to always deny, as the foretelling of Christ consciousness had always aroused such hatred and violence, that any messiah would ultimately die, under the unconcious egotism of man—and especially that I, being some kind of woman, could never be believed as such, the incarnation of the spirit who had so been ruined by man's inability to understand, in his attempts to control what had been doomed to perish under his wickedness, as also foretold.
In my own right, I was no messiah, but perhaps just another broken soul, as abused and traumatized by the rule of his evil over earth, which I inhabited and abided by; I would indeed end my life under his rule—the evil of man had become all that my mind's eye wished to be blinded of, but could not.
311-17948031
311-17949319
311-17951190
311-17951323
2:42 AM
3:27 AM
4:12 AM
He was so perfect and beautiful— a broken man, but in all the ways one would hope to mend, and though I couldn't, broken in my own sense, he stood as a reminder to what I might become, but had some how forgotten, a life once lived, to be lived again, until it was certain—that one day I would write of him, who had vanished into my own recollection, perhaps, just a shadow sense, a figure of fiction, which I had imagined if only to bring him back to life in the pages of some sort of fantasy.
The diaries I had written of his essence, so yellow that it had been golden once, had been long lost to time, but his memory still lived on. I could never know his name again in any other way, than that which would be love.
‘More cedarwood insense'
I thought. I had been sleeping with my stones once more, as some kind of force had been wreaking havoc on not just my head at all, but my heart, and I had been for days and even months in writing pain— this morning, though, I had awakened from a world which had once been ours, or at least, had once been a place where I was, in a sense, just a shadow, a shattered broken piece of myself no one could want, but perhaps had taken on as a job. Now he was a God, my dear Jon, and once more I could find something like love that had become of him, almost rising up into two little teardrops, had I not promised myself not to cry for him any longer—it was his birthday after all, that I had been shocked into becoming what I actually must have been now—a ghost, and however cruel it might have been, the men who had been outside of my window, barking such remarks as to inspire what I had already decided to have done, to let go of that awful life, and move onto the next one.
It had been long since I had seen my son, and only wished I could hold him once more in my arms, the thought of what he might become
I woke up in a hearse
For what
I woke up yelling curses
Reverses
For services
Hurt, but don't swerve this
Just learn this
You're not of this earth so observe this
The surface is
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
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-Ū.