Category Archives: Journal

As Bobby Kennedy Jr. runs off with the Illuminati to kill Lacey for unknown personal reasons (On his part, as in he for personal reasons wants to kill Lacey. They’re HIS personal reasons.) Lacey explains why she hates French.

Zero by Electric Guest plays.

Maui ‘+1 LA Toi Et…Poop means two lovers on their way to a rendezvous in Maui. By rendezvous I mean sex in a bed together in Maui. With their eyes closed presumably on occasion.

(Adult content below)

And at that Casi Brooke flashes her tits at Lacey naked to try to demand she be fucked. And LOVED…PASSIONATELY by Lacey so she can eventually leave Lacey and get her pussy fucked by Lem and Jack or some guy who Lacey loves so she can keep screwing Lacey over until she dies and screws her over for eternity. Lacey is entirely repulsed by Casi romantically and sexually and that’s obvious. But Lacey feels bad for Casi so Casi takes that lovely Christian empathy and tries to use it to kill and torture Lacey. Because Casi can’t stand being inferior to Lacey in every single possible way that Casi can be that matters to Casi. Because she is. She’s complete shit compared to Lacey just objectively speaking and there’s no way out for her ego.

In America women are HORRIFICALLY egotistical. Their egos possibly WILDLY outdo those of all American men. They are HIKD Hideous HIDeOUSLy GrosS in that way. And I write it that way because I was unfortunately born in America and I’ve been trying to escape since I could and that’s the best estimation I can come up with to explain it.

They’re not as attractive as native non-Americanized women around the world. Generally speaking. Lacey might be a rare exception. And women around the world can’t handle it because America ruined the world in that way in the 20th Century. They might secretly expect Lacey to be ugly and she is almost certainly their superior. Unfortunately for their egos. Women in the perfume community can’t handle that Lacey is like a literal goddess of sex compared to them who are like worms. Objectively speaking.

So the women in the perfume community sided with Casi Brooke Hart because she seemed like their best way to attack Lacey for the vindication of their egos.

“I refuse to believe the best friends in the perfume community aren’t angels of Heaven sent to save me from my demons like Jesus.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

Zero by Electric Guest starts over again.

And at that the entire Kennedy family and the Kennedy Administration en league with evil masturbates to orgasm at the site of Lem literally just “taking a shit” on the ground. Especially the wives of all the men who worked for JFK. Like the Whites. Etc. and etc..

But…is it Lem? No. It’s a demon in Purgatory they ADAMANTLY believe to be Lem.

So adamantly the women collect demon-Lem’s poop and eat it thinking it’ll make Lacey jealous. They not only want to make Lacey jealous they believe Lem loves it when they smear his feces all over their bare breasts and let him eat them covered in his poop and then poop them both out. Or they think he’ll lick off his poop from their breasts in foreplay and then fuck them the way he fucks Lacey.

Jack and one wife have planned it all out!

“So! You had sex with Lem?” Jack plans to ask this White wife.

“Yup!!” she’ll say with a HUGE grin.

“See that’s what Lem needs. A shit covered woman with a manly body but big puffed out tits and a mediocre face to know he’s in love with them.” says JFK COMPLETELY AND ENTIRELY SINCERELY AND SERIOUSLY as much as he’s able to lie to himself if he even vaguely knows the actual truth.

“We had better sex than he could ever have with ANYBODY…FOR ETERNITY…last night.” she says in a violent conniption fit over mimosas with Jack “the morning after.”

“Gee…that sounds like a lie. But I can’t believe it couldn’t be just the voice of Jesus Christ trying to help rescue me in Purgatory because otherwise Lem never loved me possibly at all in any way.” says JFK sadly.

“Lem is my best lover!!” she says very confidently and convincingly.

“Oh really?! That’s lovely!” says Jack Kennedy in a good, giggly mood.

“Yeah!! Gee yeah…” she plans to say.

“What was it like?!?” bites Jack Kennedy jealously.

“It was…” she falters. “Sex. You know?”

“Oh!” he says apologetically because in his mind he’s still Lem’s true lover then. But he can humor her because they’re en league together to hurt Lacey.

“Lem and I are going to leave together for Heaven.” she says seriously to Jack.

“Oh wow!” he placates her.

“So when do you leave for Tahiti with Jackie now that Lacey is out of our hair?” she asks Jack flirtatiously. “It’s too bad you can’t love me like Lem does. I’m the prettiest woman to ever exist.”

“Yeah. You’re like a literal goddess.” says Jack Kennedy to a butt ugly woman (like, truly in reality) in comparison to Lacey.

“Say…I do feel bad for Lacey.” says the White wife, as planned.

And at that JFK knocks over their table in a rage and kills her. Then he puts the table back in place in order to pretend that she’s imaging he killed her.

She dimly is restored and sits there staring at Jack like they’re best friends. She’s too stupid possibly to even consider that JFK might have killed her. She thinks they’re truly best buddies.

“So, anyway…like I was saying…why don’t we put Lacey back together again with Joe now that we’re all so happy?!?” she says cheerfully.

“My father?!?” he says cheerfully.

“Umm. Maybe? I don’t understand your family dynamics.” says the White wife.

“You mean my older brother?” asks Jack.

“Yeah! If you don’t put them together I’ll stop lying to you and admit that I’m making this whole thing up. I’m far too ugly for Lem to get his dick hard from looking at me. Not all women are arousing or equally arousing to men. Some women’s naked bodies just aren’t that arousing.” says the White wife. “That is the so-called male gaze. It’s about how literally aroused men can possibly get by looking at a woman.”

“I tried to get Marilyn to do. But it didn’t work either. I know I’m completely lying. I don’t care.” says JFK seriously and sincerely.

“That’s NOT TRUE!!” she says losing her temper. Crying suddenly.

“What?!” asks JFK.

“I need you to tell me I’m pretty or I’ll cry.” says the White wife to JFK.

“I can’t. You’re like a fart.” says JFK. “No matter what you wear or do to yourself you’re gross looking.”

“Compared to Lacey?! THAT BITCH!” says the White wife.

“What makes you think she had anything to do with it.” says JFK.

“Because you’re GOD! Lem is supposed to love you for eternity or my entire life and my husband’s life and our country itself might be a sad joke in eternity.” she says.

“I don’t actually like America all that much.” says JFK unimpressed.

“Oh. And my life doesn’t mean anything to you?!?” she asks incredulously.

“I’m probably not the omnipotent God of the universe.” says JFK pragmatically. “But…” he shrugs. “I’m just…pretty sure you’re not that pretty. Sorry!” he says.

“Okay. I’ll humor you.” the White wife says sincerely and seriously to JFK.

“That’s not humoring me!! That’s not. No! No! That’s not!” says JFK. He struggles to cognitively figure out a way out. “How about we just have sex?” he suggests to her.

“US?!” she asks.

“Yeah!” he says as he starts to undress.

She thinks. “I don’t love my husband. I use him. But he’s too loving and gullible to realize I’m a useless hag and whore. But I’m really aroused right now by the thought that you wanna fuck. Because you’re SO HOT!” says the White wife of the Kennedy Administration to JFK. She giggles mindlessly as she gets naked.

“Would you sell your children for your ego?” asks JFK seriously.

“Possibly?” she says seriously. “My beauty and the glorification of my ego is the only thing America possibly ever stood for in reality the way they arranged it. And honestly I’m allowed to murder my babies in my womb and then I’m vindicated for it.” the White wife says to JFK as they both hurriedly undress.

“Yeah! America wasn’t just about sex.” says JFK as he takes off his panties.

“No! That’s a lie.” the White wife says.

“You don’t know much about American history. I’m sorry. You’re an idiot.” says JFK to the White wife.

“Oh fine. You’re God. Now! When do we fuck?!” she asks JFK. “Because my eternal twin flame based on my star sign, Lem, is waiting for me to wow him with my nail polish. Why, even looking at my nose gets him hard when I drive by at 2,000 miles per an hour.”

“You’re right. I’m so sorry!” says JFK apologizing with almost HELLISH evil authority.

He puts his finger up her vagina as she stands there smiling.

“I can’t get an erection for you.” he says.

“I know. My husband rarely can. I’m not sure why we’re talking about this.” she says with enormous indignation.

“Lacey is making me hard right now as I imagine her.” says JFK as they stand there with his finger up her vagina.

“Gee! You’re such a gentle lover!” she says to JFK.

He pulls out his finger.

They stand there and smile at each other.

“Well!” she says. “That’s not like what I watched Lem and Lacey doing!”

Ashamed, Jack looks upset. They get dressed.

“I’m sorry!” says JFK.

“Oh! You’re gay when you’re with a real woman like me. And imaginary women like Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly are not my problem.” she says.

“Those women are my best friends!” says JFK with hurt.

“No, Jack. No. No. No. LEM IS YOUR BEST FRIEND!” the White wife says in horror.

“You’re silly.” he says smiling. “And I just fucked you.”

“We just made love?” she asks.

“Yes!! We’ll get married tomorrow.” says Jack like he’s terribly hurt.

“You’re my best friend, Jack!” she says seriously.

And it seems possible but he’s not stupid enough like her husband or most men in his administration to believe it. He feels disappointed and grossed-out by what he just did. He makes a funny face the White wife reads instinctively as all her wildest dreams come true.

“I’m in love! You’re my everything!” the White wife says to JFK losing herself as she truly falls in love with him.

“No!! Eww!!” says JFK to the White wife.

She giggles assuming he’s being playful. “You’re such a stud!” she says laughing. She looks into his eyes.

“I’m not in love with you!” he shouts at the White wife.

“Jack, don’t be surly.” she says undressing herself.

“Lem doesn’t even really know you at all. Does he?!???” asks Jack in fear.

“No!!! I knew Lem!” she says like a hick. It’s true but this White wife is a secret hick.

“Yeah!!! I KNOW!!! I WAS THERE!!!!” JFK loses his temper and rips at her.

She turns around and looks at him like a lost lamb. Dumbstruck.

“You were there. I was there. …I mean you didn’t know Lem’s soul. And you didn’t have sex with him involving poop. Did you?” asks JFK of the White wife.

“No. You know that.” she says intimately.

“I’m not in love with you!” says JFK in growing fear of the White wife.

“Okay! No one loves me. Ever!” says the White wife sadly.

“Your husband did and does!” says JFK in imitation of a counselor.

“Does he??” she asks dreamily.

Jack smiles dreamily himself now. “Yeah! He probably does.”

“Well…there’s no way to compete with women who are only imaginary but prettier and unloved like Lacey and Marilyn then. So I’ll just get over it. And when do we get married?” the White wife asks JFK.

“Umm…tomorrow?” he says like he means it.

“You are going to cheat!” the White wife spits.

“I’m not going to CHEAT!” says JFK.

“Why big boy?” asks the White wife of JFK.

“Because I’m not a big boy. I’m a man!” yells JFK at the White wife.

“You’re a hot, sexy beast of a man!” she says.

“I’m magically in love with you now.” says JFK to the White wife.

“That’s not real love!” says the White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog to John Fitzgerald Kennedy a.k.a JFK.

“Yes! It is!” says JFK to the White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog.

“Jack why are you in love with me?” White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog says to John Fitzgerald Kennedy a.k.a JFK.

“I’m not in love with you.” JFK says to the White wife, seriously.

“Then why are we in love?” the White wife asks JFK. “I’m not like other women. I’m not a liar like Lacey. And I know when a man loves me. I know when I’m loved. I’m not some vain idiot like Lacey. I’m not an ugly toad on the inside like Lacey. I cheat on my husband who might love me because I’m the hottest piece of ass to ever exist. And he tells me that and I know it’s true. Because he never lies. And…so…then…it’s my right to be with any man I want.”

“Mmm. Okay. That makes sense.” says JFK seriously.

“Huh?!?” White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog says to John Fitzgerald Kennedy a.k.a JFK.

“Yeah! I’m turned on by your sexy argument!” says JFK seriously to the White wife.

“Oh! You mean you like my ass!” says White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog to John Fitzgerald Kennedy a.k.a JFK.

“No! You’re ugly as fuck!” says JFK to the White wife.

“But my husband thinks I’m the hottest piece of ass to ever exist!” says the White wife, crying.

“Yeah! And by that argument I find you ipso facto arousing.” says JFK to the White wife.

“Oh no. You like my hair! I’m so pretty.” says the White wife to JFK.

“I can’t imagine you being pretty. Stop making me lie to you. It’s so annoying.” says JFK to the White wife.

“I’m a woman. Women don’t have egos.” says the White wife to JFK. “It’s a known fact!”

“Oh that’s…bullshit.” says JFK. “I have secrets too.”

“What are your secrets sweetie?” asks the White wife of JFK who’s dead…of course…and may have worn White Shoulders perfume. Lacey who is writing this blog keeps smelling it.

“I’m attracted to men.” says JFK to the White wife of his administration.

“I know. Lem. Right?” she says. “But I’m better than Lem. And my husband is a piece of shit compared to me. If I was a man I’d be kind of the world almost. I’m smarter than most humans to ever live.”

“You don’t think you’re wrong about that?” asks JFK of the White wife of his administration.

“Baby…I’m gonna rock your hot ass to the Heavens! You’re a hot…hot…hot. And my wet pussy is like a violet perfume in June.” the White wife says to JFK to try to prove her superiority. That’s genuinely the T. White wife’s level of intelligence. The T. White wife is a little dumb possibly in reality.

“I’m gonna need it in writing that you’ll fuck me everyday twice a day. And eight times on my birthday!” says JFK to the T. White wife.

“Mm…I mean my husband who might not literally be T. White of your administration but who was a smart guy in your administration…will be DEVASTATED!” says the T. White wife to JFK.

“So what! I hate when men threaten my ego and it gives me enormous pleasure to harass, hurt and humiliate him for a while at least.” says JFK to the White wife.

“Hey that sounds like fun!” says the White wife to JFK.

“I was too faithful to my husband while we were alive. I love being evil. Imitating imaginary women like Lacey and Marilyn Monroe. They are far better women than I choose to be. And I love to hold my sin against them so I can steal their very beings.” says the White wife to JFK.

“Yeah! But do you understand how to imitate the sex Lem and Lacey have?” JFK asks the White wife.

“Yes!” says the White wife to JFK.

“I doubt it.” says JFK. “But I’ll teach you.”

“Okay! We have bodies.” says the Theodore H. White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality that exists as readers of this blog to John Fitzgerald Kennedy a.k.a JFK.

“Let’s have sex!” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife of the wombs of the JFK White House of 1960’s USA in our reality as readers of this blog.

They can’t figure out how to. Jack gets aroused by really pretty women or at least pretty wonton and this woman isn’t that pretty. Even if to her husband who loved her passionately she was perfect objectively she’s attractive but not pretty. And the T. White wife is sexually inexperienced with almost any man but her husband and maybe two or three other men while she was alive. And JFK has been with merely attractive women but they always come on to him and do all the sexual work during sex. And so…they don’t have sex. They just dance around awkwardly, literally for hours assuming they’ll get aroused eventually. And they never do.

“I want to have sex with you!” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“Great! Then let’s have it!” the Theodore H. White wife says to JFK, exhausted.

“We can’t yet! I’m not hard!” he says.

“I’ve sucked your cock. I did before we started talking to Lacey. And now we’re stuck in this example of our planned interaction and I’m getting hurt.” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“No! I’m hurt!” yells JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“You’re in love with me!!” the Theodore H. White wife yells at JFK.

“No!! I am!” JFK yells at the Theodore H. White wife.

“Then why aren’t you sucking my cock?” asks the Theodore H. White wife seductively of John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

“They’re not real cocks! All those plastic toys aren’t your cock!” JFK explains to the Theodore White wife.

“They are!” says the Theodore H. White wife.

“I’m not that kind of man.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“Oh yes you are hot stuff!” says the Theodore H. White wife as she shoves a silicone dildo up JFK’s anus.

“Now in and out!” says JFK to the Theodore White wife.

“No! When’s it my turn?!” asks the Theodore H. White wife of JFK.

“It’s not going to be your turn until I say so!” yells JFK.

“I’m only doing this for another two hours and then I want a break!” the Theodore H. White wife says indignantly to JFK.

“You don’t love me!” JFK says to the Theodore H. White wife seriously.

“Jack it’s been six shitty hours. I hate you right now.” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“It’s been three hours.” JFK says grinning.

“No. Jack it’s been longer.” the Theodore H. White wife says exhausted.

“I want kids? Or something weird. I like hurting people to have sex. It’s just weird to give people compliments that are real. I really just want worship not love. Or to hurt someone. Shit like that gets me off.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“So we’re going to be having pedophilic sex like I hoped!” says Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“No! I’m not your son. I want to harm people. I want to harm people who aren’t me!” yells JFK losing his temper with the Theodore H. White wife.

“Okay, buster! If you want to get into it with me we can!” yells the Theodore H. White wife at JFK.

JFK looks confused.

“I have morals! I refuse to be a victim.” yells the Theodore H. White wife at JFK.

“You cannot be serious! You care about kids?” asks JFK of the Theodore H. White wife.

“I’m not saying that, Jack!” the Theodore H. White wife says coyly and pleadingly. “I’m saying that I just don’t care about anyone but me and my kids.”

“Why not?! I care about the environment and the environment and the people.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“THE PEOPLE?!??” the Theodore H. White wife scoffs.

“I can’t admit I was a sociopath while I was alive. People don’t understand. I’m not that lowly.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“You’re not that lowly?!? You’re not that lowly?!? Then get down on me and get er’ up you asshole! I need sex!!” the Theodore H. White wife says to JFK.

“I’m not ready for sex! I need to pee!” says JFK in despair.

“Here! I bought an antique chamber pot for the occasion to embarrass Lacey. I may have contacted a witch who told me in her own way what was going to happen today and I got the sense I should buy a portable toilet from an antique store to suggest Lacey doesn’t know what a chamber pot looks like compared to a soup tureen.” the Theodore H. White wife says laughing.

“I’m pretty sure Lacey Banks knows the difference between a soup tureen and a chamber pot.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“Don’t say that!” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“Why not!?!?” JFK asks, smiling.

“Because I don’t care about you anymore. I want my husband back.” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“Why? Because he’s an asinine hick in disguise like you, you sloppy, stupid looking piece of shit??” asks JFK of the Theodore H. White wife.

“I’m a lady!” the Theodore H. White side say’s indignantly.

“You’re no lady! Come here!” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“I’m a lady!!” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“How are you literally a lady in any way or fashion??” asks JFK of the Theodore H. White wife.

“I dress like a lady.” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“Sort of. Good enough for me.” JFK says before yawning. “Umm…let’s just have sex.”

The Theodore H. White wife sucks JFK’s penis or attempts to. They have actual sex. It’s nothing like what Lacey and Lem or anyone ever does because it’s just the two of them and it’s them and they’re actually having sex, and the them in this sentence is the Theodore H. White wife and John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

“I wanna throw Lacey on the cross and make a special Hell for her and no one else.” says the Theodore H. White wife to JFK.

“Why?” JFK asks the Theodore H. White who awkwardly tries to dance the Watootsie in Chanel from the 1960’s.

“Why?!” asks JFK who suddenly feels used.

“There might be no purpose to my ego. It might just be pure evil. But oh well. And at this point in my existence there’s not a lot left to either of us other than our egos. Right? Or am I essentially useless as a human being?” asks the Theodore H. White wife of JFK.

“You give great head!” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“How so?” the Theodore H. White wife asks.

“You know how.” says JFK.

“My mouth is big?” asks the JFK girlfriend who was formally the Theodore H. White wife.

“Yes!” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife. “And you don’t mind contorting your body in such a way as to make your throat, teeth and mouth feel better than they do otherwise.”

“Women could die from giving oral sex when they’re prettier?” asks the Theodore H. White wife of JFK.

“YES ugly women give better oral sex.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“Okay. So I’m hideous. Truly. And you’d prefer sex that’s vaginal with an imaginary woman who’s as arousing as Grace Kelly. But you’re with me because why?” asks the Theodore H. White wife who’s now dating JFK.

“Yes! Of course. Eww. Teeth.” says JFK. “But…it’s fun to watch you make an ass of your neck and face.”

“No, Jack that’s not true.” the Theodore H. White wife who’s dating JFK says.

“No. It is true!” he says laughing as they go out for ice cream.

“But you liked it, baby!” says the Theodore H. White wife playing with JFK’s hair.

“Not really.” says Jack Kennedy to the Theodore H. White wife.

“So it’s all a lie. Men don’t really prefer oral sex to vaginal sex?” she asks.

He laughs. “Of course not. Unless they hate the woman who’s giving them head. It’s a way of humiliating her.”

“No!! That can’t be true.” the Theodore H. White wife says with lipstick covering her ugly teeth as she weeps.

“Why does that hurt you?” asks JFK of the former Theodore H. White wife.

“Because I don’t have a clue how to be that human. I’m an ugly, whorish bitch who just brutally ditched my husband who probably has loved me with more faithfulness, perseverance and character and love and kindness and respect and feminist glory than most living women in history have ever experienced.” the Theodore H. White wife says laughing at her husband who served in the Kennedy administration.

“He sounds like a great man.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

“Yes! But who gives a fuck! Eww! I like me.” the Theodore H. White wife says joyfully.

“But you just broke his heart and shattered his soul.” says JFK to the Theodore H. White wife.

An hour or so later they (JFK and the Theodore H. White wife) make love again and Theodore H. White of the Kennedy Administration or his friend weeps uncontrollably for hours to come.

“It looks like they’re together possibly forever.” says Lacey to Lem.

“I wanted what that man had with his wife.” says Lem to Lacey.

“What did he have?” asks Lacey of Lem.

“It looked like he had an incredible amount of happiness.” says Lem.

“What was it though?” asks Lacey.

“Love. He took her so seriously!” says Lem to Lacey.

“She was a liar?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah.” says Lem.

“Right. But not all women are liars.” says Lacey.

“Was he a liar?” asks Lem of Lacey.

Lacey thinks. “My opinion or my analysis?” asks Lacey of Lem.

“Your opinion.” says Lem to Lacey.

“He’s a horrible man. Or he’s a fool. Or he’s a nice but not particularly smart man who got used and manipulated by a lot of people. He’s a difficult man to calculate.” says Lacey.

“Yes!” Lem says to Lacey. He sighs.

“Is that a good analysis too?” asks Lacey of Lem.

“Yes!” Lem says in despair.

“Good! Well…if that’s accurate then that’s too bad.” says Lacey to Lem.

“Why isn’t she dead?!” asks Bobby Kennedy Jr. of the CIA who he was possibly told unequivocally were going to kill her.

“What was going to kill her, Bobby?” asks the CIA laughing at him.

“I’m not answering that on her blog.” he says pleading the 5th Degree.

“Why!? That’s a strange thing to say.” says the CIA to Bobby.

“Umm… I don’t think you understand how stupid you look for going on endlessly about how much you loved me all those years and wish you’d known I was attracted to women. I don’t think you and Lacey look, feel or are any amount alike at all. I wish you’d never known I exist and I wish I could be kinder. Go to Hell if God so desires or demands it. I won’t miss you.” Lem says to the Theodore H. White wife.

“You’re not in love with my wife?” asks the Theodore H. White man of Lem in horror and despair.

Lem laughs. And laughs. “I’m sorry! Have you seen my wife?!?”

Theodore H. White laughs. “Yeah!”

“No really…my wife is far better looking.” says Lem.

Theodore H. White man cries slightly.

“What’s wrong?” asks Lacey of the man.

He looks up at her and is horrified. “Fuck off!” he says to Lacey.

“Oh my. You’re a belligerent one!” says Lacey to the man.

The Theodore H. White man flirts with Lacey yet again. Right in front of Lem.

Lacey looks at the Theodore H. White man for doing that like he’s a rotten piece of fish laying on the side of a dirty road in the slum. Lem tries not to react.

“Why don’t you just shoot Michael?” asks the Theodore H. White man of Lem.

“Why don’t you answer my question?!” asks Lacey of the Theodore H. White man.

“I’m sad.” he says laughing at Lacey.

“Your idiotic, narcissistic wife ruined my life by being obsessed by my obvious superiority to her potentially. And of course others have out out for me too. Possibly including you. …Don’t bullshit me you sad, pathetic ass. You have destroyed my Lem’s mind. How dare you, you failure of a man up until now. How dare you scoff at my lack of being loved from your position of being trapped in a pool of your crap that you can’t cognitively escape from! That’s not right!” says Lacey to the Theodore H. White man.

He smiles and nods.

“I might be jealous of Lem!” says the Theodore H. White man.

“What if you’re not?” asks Michael Rockefeller of the Theodore H. White man.

The Theodore H. White man is extremely overwrought by the appearance of Michael. He just sits and stares at him stupidly.

“Are you serious?!?” he yells at Michael.

“About what?!” asks Michael.

“I can’t look at her without getting extremely aroused!” the Theodore H. White man says about Lacey to Michael incredulously.

“That’s my wife!” says Lem to the Theodore H. White man as Michael shakes his head and cries.

“You’re aroused by me!” the Theodore H. White msn says to Michael accusingly.

“No! You’re just an ass!” Michael yells at the Theodore H. White man.

“I’m aroused by you. Fine!” the Theodore H. White man yells at Michael. Then the Theodore H. White man and his wife try to kill Lacey.

Lem raced out and prevented it thus far.

“I hate you, you smarmy little bitch!” the Theodore H. White man yells at Lacey.

“Why?!” asks Lacey.

“Because you know why I’m sad!!” the Theodore H. White man spits at Lacey.

She laughs. “No!! I don’t know.”

The Theodore H. White gets quiet and calculating.

“Do you have a heart?!” asks Lacey of the Theodore H. White man.

“No?” the Theodore H. White man says in response to Lacey.

“You’re obnoxious! Can’t you understand I’m trying to ask you a question as an adult to an adult. I’m not your babysitter you murderer!”says Lacey to Theodore H. White.

“You don’t like me!” the Theodore H. White man says to Lacey.

“Why are you sad?!?” asks Lacey.

“Because I’ve just lost my wife!” he says to Lacey.

“Right. What does that mean to you?” asks Lacey.

“She’s my everything!” says the Theodore H. White man to Lacey.

“I can’t relate.” says Lacey.

The Theodore H. White man goes into a seizure due to emotional shock at Lacey’s response.

“Give him something!” Lacey commands two doctors she has at her side in the afterlife.

“Your former wife is a fascinating woman. But she was so odd and cruel. Why do you care? There have to be better options for you now. I’ve been a failure at love countless times.” says Lacey to the Theodore H. White man.

“I don’t understand why she left me!” says the Theodore H. White man to Lacey.

“I don’t either. But I wish you well in going to a better place for eternity than where you’ve been secretly all these years. Have hope in Christ!” says Lacey to the Theodore H. White man.

“You might be smarter than me.” says the Theodore H. White man to Lacey.

“Why do you keep attacking me?” asks Lacey of the Theodore H. White man.

“I’m sorry, Lem.” the Theodore H. White man says to Lem before being escorted out by armed guards who then slice off his head and strangle his former wife to death and kill JFK again before declaring war on the evil few at large.

“As I was saying Lem. Why is it romantic to be so sure from the beginning for both parties involved?” asks Lacey.

He laughs at her. Then registers the hurt in her eyes.

“You don’t mean that as a joke. And I…am wrong.” he says.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Because then you know you’re in love.” he says.

“Who?!” asks Lacey.

“YOU!” he yells at her.

She looks confused. “I’m lost.” she says.

He sighs exasperated. “I don’t understand why you don’t get it!!” he yells exasperated.

“Well can’t you bother to explain?!?” asks Lacey.

“Yes! …I’m so immature! I’m sorry!!” he says before vomiting from his immaturity. Once he recovers, “It’s just that I don’t want you to be in love with anyone else.”

She sighs. Thinks. “What in the world does that have to do with knowing right away?!”

“Because then you won’t go off with someone else!” he says to her.

“That’s other people! Not me. That being said…I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I’ve told you that.” says Lacey to Lem.

He furrows his brow. Thinks.

“I messed-up and didn’t tell you we were together.” he says.

“I may not have known what was going on.” says Lacey to Lem.

“To whom?!? To me! Your feelings matter to me.” he says to Lacey.

More later.

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?

Jack?

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.