Dear Filthy Despicable Guests

You rat-faced guests remind me of a bunch of old used water bottles.  A big, dirty dripping mess of people's fucking water bottles that got left there and forgotten.  Looks like shit.  

Nobody knows whose water bottle is whose cuz they're so mixed up and rat-infested.  Rats turning them into nests.  Many just have a sticker that makes it look like a rat is nested in the water bottle, nursing her young.  Either way, it's highly unsanitary.  

Sitting there in the corner, like fucking fifty reusable water bottles.  But you can't recycle them as is (i.e. wash them out.)  Nobody wants a used reusable water bottle for the obvious and evident fact that some dude might have peed in it once.  Or a rat lived in it.  But you know if a rat lived in it cuz the plastic's usually gnawed.  Don't touch those water bottles.  Only get the nice ones, with the stickers.  Sell them in lots on eBay to start generating the seed money we need to get our other projects off the ground.

This is where it ends.  Not a means to an end but the very end of an end.  

What will be a laboriously slow and drawn-out long ending draws so very nigh it is already happening.  

You cannot comprehend my powers, as I shall now demonstrate:

Look around you.  What do you see?  

Is it like a computer or a cup or a computer mouse or your favorite bottled beverage?  A pipe perhaps brimming with fine fresh cherry tobacco?  Yum.  Marlboro's and whiskey with some floozy you're making whoopy with in the motel room?  Like you're the boss of the company and all the women who work there have to do naked stuff for you whenever you want -as is clearly stipulated in their employment contracts.  

What if they're on their periods, these ladies?  You gonna be so kind and generous as to give them a few days off from "doing naked stuff" for you, seeing how they're on their periods, right?  What if they're preggars, they still gotta do it?    These broads don't want to be one of your floozies!  They yearn to be in loving, committed relationships raising families. You know this but you don't care. You just keep exploiting these dames cuz it makes your wiener feel good and you're confident the 'has to do naked stuff' clause in their employment contracts is ironclad because you hired a top law firm to draw it up.  

It is something like that.  Something perverse and shameful.  

I don't need to know precisely what it is.  It's only that it is is all I need to know.

Shame. I cast your own shame upon you!

I don't want to hold be holding it. Then it'd be my shame, which I don't need because I believe in being shameless so if I had any of my own I'd also be dumping that on you too. Fortunately, for me I don't cuz you got all of it.

Go ahead. Try to debate that. You can only try and fail because deep down in your heart you know it's true, inscrutably so. Facts are established by stating they are facts. That's how facts work. Wake up.

In fact, here's another fact: FUCK YOU!

No, guesticles, this isn't over. It's far from over. It seemed from over afar and now it's back again, yet no time has passed.

This moment is an eternity and I use it to insult you, Eternal Insults which mock you to your grave and witch you beyond it.

Write these down! These are gonna be added to my religious quotes for my upcoming Holy Book about me. Not top-tier, obviously. Mostly they read like nonsense, but it's good to mix some of that into my soon-to-hit-bookshelves Holy Book to confuse the reader. The more confused they are by it, the more they believe it for some reason. Go Figure. In fact, that's the title of Chapter One.

In the beginning was the end. The End.

That's all the text in total in Chapter One. Now everybody's confused, right? Just keep peppering stuff like that in, total mystical meaningless thought-experiment word-bullcrap among whatever all else you're telling those suckers. Keep them mystified. Gaslight them. That's how we get people to believe in this religion!

Maybe it's time to clear the air around here.

Or maybe I should just rip a big fart all over this place.  I can do that.  You can't.  All you can do is take it.  

What I'm doing is inflicting personal growth on you, for my own good.  Torture builds character.  

For the torturer it builds character, I mean.  It's nothing but pain and agony for the torturee, who is you.

Questions?

Excellent, let's move on.  The bottom line is I'm still not seeing any cashflow from this religion.  Are people not aware that while they lazily meander about their days, the planetary lands surrounding them are literally teeming with dozens to billions of illiterate cats?

Drill that home!  Pound it into their heads and guilt trip them over it.  Don't ever let them point the finger back at you either.  You are doing something about it!  You're brainwashing them.