Twisted Treatises

First--I'm a felon and can't vote (that we are close to having a felon president notwithstanding), but if I could, I'd vote Harris. You got-damn right I would. Even though she's said and done things I don't like, I would. Why? She's not Trump, and this is the way the game is played. Unless 200 million of us all band together, this is the way the game will CONTINUE to be played. Is that going to happen? HA! NO. So. Yes, I'd vote Harris. Wanna throw over it, MAGA? You chant "Fight!" And the rage kicks in... I've done my best to be nice in this. I've watched people who've never made a fist in their life cry for Mad Max shit to happen. That's so fucking annoying. I've done my best to keep quiet. I'm fuckin' done being quiet. (Some clarity before we begin: When I say "forever" I mean as far as the USA is concerned. Continuing on.) The "woke" people have been repressed and persecuted FOR THE FUCK EVER. Do

  This goes out strictly to Alex S. Johnson, libelous cunt extraordinaire--your day is coming, bitch. Saturn got a special place for that ass. Now, I myself can't do much, but I can at least jerk the Rob carpet out from underneath your feet-- that's what this post is all about.   First--"Front Street" is what we call it when someone puts us on blast. Someone spits my business, that's putting me on Front Street.  And. This  song goes with this. Check it before or after. It'll make more sense if you listen before.  I'll just put myself on blast since it's all over the place anyway now. True friends know this stuff already, new friends may not. And here's me trying to edit folks when-- Or at least that's what you say. What makes a guy like me think he can do that? Shit. I don't even know. I'm like Katt Williams--tryin shit and tryin shit, oh that didn't work, switch up--tryin shit... (Holy shit rob likes hip hop?--SOME. I'm pick