It’s Not Unusual Tom Jones plays.

And the white trash of the Illuminati walks up to the Antarctic. With Bobby Kennedy Jr. as their guide.

“Lem thought I was incredibly sexy!” turns and yells Bobby Kennedy Jr. in the howling wind.

“Bobby…why are we here?” they ask politely and respectfully.

They stare at him and he stares at them. Everyone is appropriately dressed…of course.

“We’re here to make a difference!” yells Bobby.

They give him confused expressions of disbelief and growing but polite irritation.

“I’m a sex god of darkness in the Illuminati and I was either brutally molested by Lem Billings or other adults in my family or both…or I just want to literally screw any and everything and everyone and I sell kids into hostage to make money. I’m terrible with money. So…to run for U. S. President I had to sell children to be sent into living Hell.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr..

A few are shocked and disturbed and disappointed. The others…consider.

“Well…we’re wondering if you were really molested or not.” says a mildly attractive woman in her 40’s. Probably an upper-middle class housewife. She’s being cheerful.

“I was!” he says. “But I’m also positive I wasn’t because I might be a malignant but also extremely determined narcissist.”

“Which…is…it?” ask Summertime Sadness.

“It’s whichever one is most comfortable for me right now.” he says. “Or most advantageous.”

“Most advantageous?” asks a middle-class housewife.

“Yes!!! See…I’ve prepared for my most…curious constituents a very special surprise.” says Bobby Jr..

They shift uneasily.

He grins wide and cheerfully and happily. Brightly. 

He starts laughing uncontrollably, “Bill Gates and I are buddies!” He laughs like Mark Zuckerberg to seem elite and posh. “Yeah! I know! You all were expecting that.” He smiles. “Hey! So…here’s the thing…I’m stalking all of you.”

They look look at him in embarrassment and dismay.

“Each and every single one of you were on my website as visitors…and each of you…like the Amish!” Bobby says as a look of devilish and elite amusement spreads across his face.

They all look horrified.

(Adult content below)

“Apple has kindly provided you all free earbuds and iPhones. Check your care packets.” he says.

They all dig around in canvas tote bags they were given at the airport and instructed to bring with them at all times on their guided tour of Antarctica. They find the iPhones and earbuds and examine them.

“Put those earbuds in my children!” he says before bowing in racist imitation of an Asian man.

They do as instructed.

Suddenly Tom Jones singing It’s Not Unusual plays.

“It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone
It’s not unusual to have fun with anyone
But when I see you hanging about with anyone
It’s not unusual to see me cry
I wanna die

It’s not unusual to go out at any time
But when I see you out and about it’s such a crime
If you should ever wanna be loved by anyone
It’s not unusual

It happens every day
No matter what you say
You’ll find it happens all the time
Love will never do what you want it to
Why can’t this crazy love be mine?

It’s not unusual to be mad with anyone
It’s not unusual to be sad with anyone
But if I ever find that you’ve changed at any time
It’s not unusual to find out I’m in love with you
Whoa-whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh
Whoa-whoa, oh-ohh
Whoa-whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa”

They look mildly amused suddenly.

Then out of the blue four men in all black snow apparel appear. An electronic female British voice starts talking.

“Hello sexy you!

It’s time to explore.

Lift your heads up and look into the distance and see those four men in all black waving to you. They’re your guides.

Your guides to…great sex!”

Joshua Bell playing Rusalka, Op. 114: Song to the Moon from the album entitled Voice of the Violin plays in their earbuds.

“Hey big stud! In the mood?!” says the animated female voice.

And as the song plays on several people take their iPhones and earbuds and walk off. One or two leave their earbuds in and listen as they leave. They all look far too disgusted for conversation.

A few others seem tentatively interested in leaving but stay for unknown reasons.

The rest seem intrigued.

A few smile.

A few laugh.

The four men in all black snow apparel unzip their pants and pull out their penises as Rusalka, Op. 114: Song to the Moon plays. Then they walk up to a mountain of snow as this is Antarctica and they stick their limp penises into the snow. Then they place their hands on their hips and stand their waiting.

“Ladies, Gentlemen and Zeddians of Yore…the following demonstration is of…snow sex. It’s a type of orientation recognized in the world as we are children of The Most High Priestess of Flowers. We have only found four men to perform said ritual in the whole world. The four men you are watching are getting erections from the freezing cold. They find blizzards very arousing.

It’s okay to be special and unique in the creature kingdom. We celebrate your diversity. We honor your soul. We cherish your memories. We love your unique mind.”

The men start eating the snow and then try to make love to the snow. Everyone, for the most part, watches in shock.

“And as cherished children of the Earth we now ask you to undress yourselves and honor these fine American men. This is your moment to enjoy the beauty of nature.

So kick back and unbutton your pants, unzip your pants, take off your panties or boxer briefs or whatever you are wearing and make love to the ground beneath you covered…in…ice and snow.

Hey you, you brilliant sex god in the making…I see those eyes staring at that sexy thing. Why are you so curious? Oh, okay…you want to play with fire? Make the grade? Win the match of minds?

Let me give a…introduction.

She giggles in her British, female, animated voice.

Snow is composed of frozen water crystals. Frozen water crystals are made up of two Hydrogen atoms and one Oxygen atom. You know this one? It’s H20. Yes! Don’t let their pretense to greatness deceive you. They’re just regular ol’ H20. You should easily slide into this hottie’s DM’s in no time.”

Who Am I by Snoop Dogg plays in their earbuds.

About ten of the people walk off. It’s unclear if it’s because they’re offended by the music or if they’re just offended at the music or if they’re just offended.

The remaining 15 people left kneel down or undress. They try it.

One man in particular starts talking about rain. He goes on and on and on and on about rain. Hurricanes especially.

U Not Like Me by 50 Cent plays in their earbuds.

Suddenly one of the four men dressed in black snow apparel collapses of hypothermia. He’s ignored…unfortunately.

A few minutes later the man likely dies. He’s unconscious.

Bobby Kennedy Jr. notices the dead man laying on the ground. He confidently ignores it. These men know what they’re doing he imagines. He’s done the research and thinks they’re experts.

The Real Slim Shady by Eminem plays in his earbuds. He decides to dance. It gets him aroused. He decides to make-out with the snow after assuming that the snow is actually what’s turning him on not memories of women like his second wife who he slept with to this exact song. He leans over and starts trying to make out with the snow packed ground.

Five more people pass out. Everyone else looks rather uncomfortable.

WHAT’S POPPIN by Jack Harlow plays in their earbuds.

Four more of them die. All of the four men are now unconscious.

Bobby Kennedy Jr. starts to develop ice burn on all of his skin.

Almost everyone but him and one other man are now dead.

“I’m in love!!!” yells the man by seriously, sincerely and sadly.

“Love wins!” says Bobby Jr. in honor of Jack and Lem. He’s being as serious and sincere as he cognitively can remember how to be.

“So he molested you?!” asks the dying man. Everyone else is now dead. He’s got a gut, gray hair, a beard and is rather short. He’s what? German?

Whatever You Like by T. I. plays. They both stand with one earbud in. Naked.

“What makes you think I was molested?” Bobby Jr. asks seriously.

“Bobby…Mr. President Elect…most everyone is dead.” he says.

“It’s just winter.” he says indignantly with cocky, arrogant self-righteousness.

“It’s winter?” the German man asks pleasantly.

“You’re a mother fucking asshole!” yells Bobby Jr..

The German origin man begins crying. He gets dressed in a fit of sadness. Fully dressed. Then he walks off as best he can. Stumbling forward with his canvas goody bag he attempts to survive. He makes it to one of the SUV’s where he sits and cries for a second…then drives off. He’s barely able to move but the car moves and he’s able to move around in the middle of the wilderness of Antarctica in the SUV.

Bobby Kennedy Jr. is indignant. Indignation is his thing. Indignation is the main Kennedy flavor of personality. They are indignant or they act indignant or…they are what? It’s…unclear.

“The meaning and heart of a country…rests in its own hearts and minds. It rests in its own mind and its people and the people who are there. And the people who are here are the ones who are here and they are my friends. And my family and I love them!” says Bobby Kennedy Jr.. “My family is in my heart.”

A few minutes later Bobby Jr. is shot by the CIA and his doppelgänger is U. S. President for four years before retiring to spend the rest of his life as an environmental researcher. Of course…it’s an actor not Bobby Kennedy Jr. but he’s an environmental researcher anyway.

My Name Is by Eminem plays.

Lacey is not a Kennedy.

In 1962 Lacey, if she’d been born in 1938, would have slept with Michael. They would have met and slept together within five minutes to five hours. Fallen madly in love and spent the rest of their lives together. Happily.

Lem wouldn’t have had a chance.

Nobody but Michael would have had her until she was dead if she’s supposed to be with some other man for eternity. Including Lem.

No Diggity plays by Blackstreet plays.

Lem was busy.

Busy with what?


No. Well…yes in a way. But on a more big picture level he was actually busy being normal.

“Lem was like me!” confidently says the German man from earlier in this post.

“How?” asks Michael Rockefeller.

“He’s a sexy, unusual, rare man.” says the German man.

“He’s a fagot?” asks Michael Rockefeller casually.

“No. He’s not. I’m not gay!” says the German man.

“Who said he was gay?” asks Michael.

“Bobby Kennedy Jr..” says the German man.

“Oh! That bisexual?” asks Michael.

“Yes!” says the German man. “Wait! No!”

“What?” asks Lem.

“He told me he imagined having sex with you once in a wet dream.” says the German man to Lem.

“Then that was just his wet dream.” says Michael to the German man.

“No! It’s not like that!” says the German man driving the SUV in Antarctica.

“What’s it like?” asks Michael.

“He was once a prince. And Lem was his fair maiden. And Bobby Jr. rescued him from the grave after his uncle’s death.” says the German man.

“But that’s homosexuality.” says Lem.

“With that in mind I have to say no.” says the German man becoming suddenly intensely serious.

“No to what?” asks Lacey.

Fearful Odds by M83 plays.

“No to your offer.” he says with abrupt, cutting masculinity.

“What offer?” asks Lacey.

“Your offer of $1,000,000.00.” he says.

“Who’s offering you money?” asks Lacey.

He stops the car and pauses in absolute shock.

“I have a car!” he says indignantly.

“So what?!” asks Lacey.

He sighs in shock. “I’m fully capable of driving to the FBI or CIA right now and telling them that Bobby Junior is a Communist sympathizing, whorish, brutish fag!”

Michael looks confused. “Why do you think nobody knows that?”

The German man cries. “I just about died back there.” he says through sobs.

“His kids insist Lem was gay and that it’s known fact. Don’t they?” asks Michael.

“Yes! Yes!! They all do. They pay the media money to lie about them. They always have.” he says.

“Hey! Do you know who we are?” asks Harold Loeb of the German man. “If you were a real person in a real world and not a character you’d be dead.”

“But Bobby is real.” says Lacey.

“True! I’m just Steve Bannon pretending to be this supposed German man.” says the German man.

“Yes! He’d be dead. Or close to dying.” says Lacey.

“But see…that’s why these ghosts aren’t real.” says Jenna Fischer. “Lacey they aren’t real.”

“I highly doubt that they aren’t real. …And frankly it’s that kind of illogical bullshit that’s been intolerable to me for years when I’m communicating with the Illuminati.” says Lacey.

“She’s right.” say the Illuminati witches.

“Oh come on! We know they’re not real.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr. seriously.

“Ghosts?” asks Lacey.

He refuses to even bother acknowledging her question.

“Okay! There could theoretically be ghosts.” says a scientist in the Illuminati.

“How do you people think the Illuminati you’re a party of functions without the existence of ghosts?” asks Lacey PROFOUNDLY irate.

They all look at Bobby Jr..

“What?! I had a wet dream about Lem Billings! He molested me in that dream!” he says.

“He molested you in your wet dream?!” asks a Millennial woman.

“Well okay…I found out how much he was in love with me and we made love. But it was so believable and I didn’t want it. Right? Because how could I have? I’m straight.” he says without humor or irony.

“He made love to you?!?” asks a woman.

“I mean yeah! Obviously. We were in love. And how could he have done that in my dream unless he had psychologically molested me in some way while I was awake.” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“So…he never indicated any intention or interest in you while you were awake at all or physically or spiritually after death?” asks a woman not Lacey just to clarify.

“No, he was just always so sexy.” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“What was the sex like?” asks the woman.

He smiles. “I mean, I’m not homophobic!” he says laidback and laughing.

“It was HOT!” he says. “Well…I mean it was weird. He seemed like he was drunk. But I imagined it to a perfect description of exactly what it was like to sleep with him.” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry that happened to you!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior’s living wife to Bobby Kennedy Junior seriously.

“You had a wet dream and you were in love with Lem?” am actress in the Illuminati says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“Yes! He molested me in a dream!!” Bobby Kennedy Junior says. “Everyone says and said he was madly in love with me. All the psychological experts of our time agree that he was gay and INSANELY in love with me.”

“So you had a crush on Lem…and he was never aroused by you at all…and you can’t admit that because it means he wasn’t in love with you at all in reality and didn’t even necessarily like you even. And…you refuse to admit that YOU aren’t straight?!” asks a Millennial woman of Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“I’m sorry…you don’t get it!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“Get what?!?” says a gay Millennial guy.

“I’m not gay!!!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“But your molestation experience is a wet dream!” says the Millennial woman to Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“Yeah! But I was A KID!” he says in a self-righteous huff.

“You were a TEENAGER!” says a Millennial woman.

“I wasn’t that old.” he says.

“How old were you when you had the wet dream?” asks Lem.

“I was 17!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior, embarrassed.

“That’s not really Lem’s ghost. Right?” asks Bobby Kennedy Junior’s wife.

He laughs in response.

“I never molested you.” says Lem to Bobby Kennedy Junior. “You sound like you got very confused. I have told you numerous times that I was also never attracted to you”

“I was wondering how a seventeen year old teenager could get a wet dream. How do you think?” asks a Millennial woman of Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“It’s normal. And I suppose it didn’t mean I was attracted to honor that he was attracted to me. But I just think it’s kind of weird that he gave me that dream about him.” Bobby Kennedy Junior says.

“How did he give you that dream?” asks Lacey

“He wanted me to know!” says Bobby to Lacey.

“While he was alive?!?” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior to Lacey.

“That sounds possibly psychotic.” says Lacey objectively to Bobby about himself. “Not all your intuitions are likely off. But…I highly suspect this one is. If you never were at all involved with him openly in private between the two of you then I would have to think you imagined his interest or any arousal he would have felt for you. …You may have had a crush on Lem or someone else gave you the idea.”

“Nobody gave me the idea!” he says indignantly.

“Wasn’t that what the journalists thought based on how you crushed on him and your mother’s attempt to make you feel better about it after your father died?” asks Lacey in a hidden seething rage at the decades of the Kennedy’s legacy of enormous amounts of petty, narcissistic bullshit that they’ve shoved down everybody’s throats.

“Fine!” he says.

“Be careful. If your mom planted stories about you all in the press then she probably created your confusion, tragically. …And if he never meant to molest you or wanted to molest you or did molest you then you likely could have felt molested with that dream because it was creepy to have that dream about him.” says Lacey. “As in, they talked about it and it affects you substantially subconsciously whether it was real on his end or not.”

“Why are you allowed to be so loose about what you say about me?” he asks Lacey.

“I can see two sides of it. One from the perspective of a possible mother figure or aunt and the other as a peer. It’s incredibly creepy.” She thinks. “And the third perspective is that of a Millennial who was once young enough to be your child. …I wish I hadn’t have thought I was supposed to have a crush on you. I didn’t at first. But I am not related to you so…I talked myself into it and that infuriates me.”

“You’ve apologized to him numerous times.” says a woman in the Illuminati to Lacey.

“It wasn’t a natural crush. I found him depressing at first.” says Lacey.

“You’re a lot younger than me but…it’s so likely your genes are old. To you finding out I was the only one alive in my family who seemed remotely like my uncle Joe Jr. was horrifying…but to women with younger genes it’s not. They don’t necessarily think my parents are better looking automatically.” he says.

“I never stopped thinking that. I forced myself to find you remotely attractive. And I don’t now at all thank God.” says Lacey.

“I’m doubtful you ever did.” says his cousin.

“Oh it was just barely. Truly. But I was trying to be realistic about the harsh reality of it all.” says Lacey. “I was also only 12 or so. So it wasn’t that passionate of a crush. And I had lots and lots of crushes on many men. …I do find it weird how I don’t find him attractive at all now though. So…maybe I really didn’t find him genuinely attractive at all ever. Actually I’ve had that thought too come to think of it. But…I was only 11 or 12. It’s possible some things have been lost to age memory.”

“Yeah, you’ve been suggesting for years that it wasn’t even a real crush on Bobby Kennedy Junior.” says an actor in the Illuminati to Lacey.

“That’s true!!” says Lacey.

“But you changed your mind?!?” asks an actress of Lacey.

“I think it’s far more complicated than that. When I get into arguments with people I see my memory in my head. So sometimes I forget where the page is going. I see my own thoughts. …Possibly due to high intelligence and possibly due to some accidental death before death because of how I’ve been treated by people.” says Lacey.

“You can see your own thoughts?!?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“Yes, at times.” says Lacey.

“Like you’re looking at a graph?” he asks.

“A 3D model.” says Lacey. “Or 3D page.”

He goes into shock.

“I wonder if our brains just start shutting down when they can’t function properly anymore for so-called emotional reasons.” he says.

“Yes!! Exactly!” says Lacey. “Your emotional pain might not kill you in currently scientifically verifiable ways physically but it could be that our brain has a lot more than what we can see easily and that we can die before the now recognized body does.”

“Well…goodnight all.” says Lem.