The Troof? About The Beatles, Manson,Helter Skelter,Roman Polanski and How I Figured Out I’m Rosemary’s Baby

Yep, that’s ME. Well, at least, that’s how I feel most of the time,lolololololol………. Hey, I was born in 1969, I was adopted…I have 6 toes on each of my cloven feet…

HA! My feet are funky, but not quite to that extent.

So, this is what I read about the Beatles, The Devil, the Manson murders and the Polanski connection. It’s copied from the website http://stargods.org/BeatlesEvil.html.

The Beatles were satanists that had made a pact with the devil, and the bill had to be paid to the coven. Every band that has made a pact with satan has had a member die. Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Beatles, The Who, etc. In an interview with Barbara Walters, Lennon assassin Mark David Chapman clearly demonstrated that he was a satanist. In other words he was an errand boy collecting the payment for satan’s bill.

“Alone in my apartment back in Honolulu, I would strip naked and put on Beatles records and pray to Satan to give me the strength. I prayed for demons to enter my body to give me the power to kill” (cited by Evangelist Richard Ciarrocca, Observations, Dec. 1990).

“In his book, The Ultimate Evil, investigator-author Maury Terry writes that between 1966 and 1967, the Satanic cult, the Process Church, ’sought to recruit the Beatles.’”

The Beatles’ Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album was dedicated to satanist Aleister Crowley. It was released 20 years, nearly to the day, after Crowley’s death in 1947. The title song with the lyrics, “It was twenty years ago today…” On the album cover we see a collection of the Beatles personal heros. Aleister Crowley appears there.

Crowley was born in 1875 and was called the “Great Beast.” He was known to practice ritual child sacrifice regularly, in his role as Satan’s high priest or “Magus.” Crowley died in 1947 due to complications of his huge heroin addiction. Before dying, he succeeded in establishing Satanic covens in many U.S. cities including Hollywood. Kenneth Anger, like Crowley, is a Magus, and appears to be the heir to Crowley. Anger was seventeen years old when Crowley died. In that same year, 1947, Anger was already producing and directing films which, even by today’s standards, reek of pure evil.” – http://www.geocities.com/mmiddleton87/

A key link between the Beatles and the Process Church is Kenneth Anger, a follower of the “founding father” of modern Satanism, Aleister Crowley. Anger, born in 1930, and a child Hollywood movie star, became a devoted disciple of Crowley.

The movie Rosemary’s baby was filmed in the Dakota building were John Lennon was shot to death. It also appears that John Lennon knew the director personally. “The Director of Rosemary’s Baby was Roman Polanski. (At a party in California in 1973, Lennon ‘went berserk, hurling a chair out the window, smashing mirrors, heaving a TV against the wall, and screaming nonsense about film director Roman Polanski being to blame’ – Giuliano)

It’s also interesting to note that when the Beatles went to India to see the Yogi, John Lennon took along Mia Farrow star of the movie Rosemary’s Baby. It would appear that birds of the same occult coven flock together.

Did this nobody Director make a pact with the Hollywood coven in order that he be given a very choice script. So what is the price for fame in the underworld. It is the killing of your baby! This fact is even stressed in the movie. The coven in the movie demand Rosemary’s baby in return for her husband’s success and Hollywood fame.

It was an amazing coincidence that the film had a plot that would be similarly played out a year later – Polanski’s pregnant actress/wife Sharon Tate would be murdered by Charles Manson’s followers.

The murder of his wife appears to be pre-payment for an Academy Award nomination for Polanski’s Best Adapted Screenplay. This movie was a critically-acclaimed and a commercially successful film.

Weeks before Lennon’s death, on his latest album there was a song by Yoko Ono titled Kiss Kiss Kiss. When played backwards one can hear Yoko say, “I shot John Lennon.” This is the same album that John Chapman listened to over and over again! Was Chapman under mind control induced by the album.

Now enter another mind control victim by the name of Charles Manson another santanic bill collector. His followers saw to it that Roman Polanski’s wife was killed along with the baby. In the movie Rosemary’s Baby, it is stressed that there is occult power in babies blood. Could this be the reason why Sharon Tate’s baby was almost taken out of the womb by Susan Aktins Sadie who wanted to cut out the baby, but couldn’t because there hadn’t been time. They wanted to take out the eyes of the people, and squash them against the walls, and cut off their fingers. “We were going to mutilate them, but we didn’t have a chance to.”

Rosemary the main character in the movie, and was to have her baby taken away, had the nickname “Ro.” I wonder what Roman Polanski’s (who in real life had his baby murdered) nick name was? By the way, holly wood is what magicians wands are made from, and stars are the points of light that shine forth Lucifer’s occultist wisdom.

Now that we know Mark Chapman and Manson were receiving messages from albums, let’s take it even further. Remember the Beatles White Album that Charles Manson received his murderous orders from.

Sexy Sadie what have you done

On the album there is a song called Sexy Sadie. Well it turns out that this was the nickname of Susan Atkins. Now “Sadie Mae Glutz was the alias given to the Family member Susan Atkins by Manson even before the appearance of the White Album song ‘Sexy Sadie!’ -http://www.phinnweb.com/livingroom/rosemary/

It was Sadies testimony in court that brought an end to the Manson family. Now read the lyrics below from the Beatles song Sexy Sadie.

Sexy Sady “White album” Year 1968

Sexy Sadie what have you done
You made a fool of everyone
You made a fool of everyone
Sexy Sadie ooh what have you done.

Sexy Sadie you broke the rules
You layed it down for all (the court) to see
You layed it down for all to see
Sexy Sadie oooh you broke the rules.

One sunny day the world was waiting for a lover
She came along to turn on everyone
Sexy Sadie the greatest (Manson killer)of them all.

(Susan Atkins was a sexual lover of the Manson family)

Sexy Sadie how did you know
The world was waiting just for you
The world was waiting just for you
Sexy Sadie oooh how did you know.

Sexy Sadie you’ll get yours yet
However big you think you are
However big you think you are
Sexy Sadie oooh you’ll get yours yet.

Susan Atkins often bragged and boasted.

We gave her everything we owned just to sit at her table
Just a smile would lighten everything
Sexy Sadie she’s the latest and the greatest of them all.

She made a fool of everyone
Sexy Sadie.

However big you think you are
Sexy Sadie.
Brackets by author.

Another nickname of Susan Atkins was Sadie Mae Glutz

Maggie Mae (Written by Lennon/McCartney/Harrison/Starkey)
Album “Let it be” Year 1970

Oh dirty Maggie Mae they have taken her away
And she never walk down Lime Street any more
Oh the judge he guilty found her
For robbing a homeward bounder
That dirty no good robbin’ Maggie Mae
To the port of Liverpool
They returned me to
Two pounds ten a week, that was my pay.

Beatles “Let It Be” Album
May 8th 1970

Speculation: Could the above lyrics also be a metaphor for black mail?

So why was Sharon Tate chosen to die. My feeling is that Roman Polanski made a pact with the Hollywood coven. This was an exchange for his child so that he be given fame and success. He was a nobody movie director till he was handed a script that would make him an instant success. So why give a major script to a basically unknown director and not a well established director? Why is because of his agreed sacrificial offering that would have to be made in the future. Manson would be the grocery clerk coming for the payment of the bill.

Suasan Atkins Sadie had stated that Sharon Tate had been the last to die because, “She had to watch the others die.” By all accounts, Tate died in excruciating fear and agony. Bugliosi gives Atkins’ account: she was holding Sharon Tate at the time and, “Tex came back and he looked at her and he said, ‘Kill her.” And I killed her… And I just stabbed her and she fell, and I stabbed her again. I don’t know how many times I stabbed her…” Sharon begged for the life of her baby, but Atkins told her, “Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Before he killed him, Charles “Tex” Watson told Voytek Frykowski: ‘I am the Devil and I am here to do the Devil’s business.’” Months later at the trial, Manson’s “disciples” were said to have been utterly under his power.

The Beatles

“They’re COMPLETELY ANTI-CHRIST. I mean, I am anti-Christ as well, but they’re so anti-Christ they shock me which isn’t an easy thing.” Derek Taylor, Press Officer for the Beatles

“I believed that he was Satan himself at times” George Martin, Beatles Producer

“Jesus, a garlic-eating, stinking little yellow, greasy fascist bastard catholic Spaniard.” (John Lennon, A Spaniard in the Works, p.14)

“Christianity will go, it will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue about that. I’m right and will be proved right. You just wait.. . .We’re more powerfull than Jesus ever was..” John Lennon

Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme

Amazing too is how years later with President Ford in the White House, then Vice President Nelson Rockefeller was just a heartbeat away from becoming leader of the free world. With Rocky as Vice President, if anything should befall Ford at that time, he would instantly become President. Well, time to send in Manson’s followers once again.

One of his followers Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme who steps out in a failed assassination attempt against President Ford. (September 5, 1975) Two weeks later another woman Sara Jane Moore attempts another assassination San Francisco with a handgun. (September 22, 1975)

Squeaky claimed that she did not attempt to kill President Ford, because she never injected a bullet from the handle into the chamber. Was she under mind control? Could she of been programmed just to show up with a gun?

John Lennon Murder

“HINCKLEY followed as exactly as he possibly could EVERY SINGLE MOVE that Mark David CHAPMAN had made, in the days before CHAPMAN murdered John Lennon.

Even MORE bizarre: at the time of their respective arrests following both shooting incidents, John Hinckley AND Mark David Chapman were each carrying on their person a paperback copy of the J.D. Salinger novel, ’CATCHER IN THE RYE.’ (AS did the MK-Ultra mind-controlled assassin Jerry played by Mel Gibson in the surprisingly revealing movie Conspiracy Theory.)

J.D. Salinger, certainly a gifted author, had SUBSTANTIAL and enduring ties to the U.S. intelligence community; in particular, the CIA. Was the book originally intended to be a mind-control programming tool? It’s hard to say, but not inconceivable.

SO: Hinckley traced Chapman’s footsteps, as it were, in an incredibly eerie AND incredibly REVEALING, scripted tableau; which culminated, as it did with Chapman, in mind-controlled Manchurian Candidate assassin Hinckley shooting his prey on the New York City streets.

Which indeed, brings up yet a FURTHER point. Hinckley FIRST CAME to New York WELL BEFORE his attempt to assassinate Reagan, in order to prepare himself for his assigned role by imitating Chapman’s moves and actions of a few months before.

SO: HOW did Hinckley KNOW, several weeks BEFORE-hand, that Reagan was going to be at the place in New York City were Hinckley would shoot him, AND the DAY and TIME Reagan would be there??

SOMEBODY on the “INSIDE,” who knew Reagan’s schedule some time in advance, positioned Hinckley in New York well before the date of the attempted assassination of Reagan.

Somebody like George BUSH, Sr., maybe? Trying to get a jump on taking over as President? Or, maybe just sending ol’ Ronnie a VERY strong, clear message about who the “boss” really was…
Written by NewsHawk

Recently George Harrison died from cancer. In the murky world of the occult there are many convenient deaths due to cancer. The occult bill collector had already come once in a previous failed attempt to kill Harrison with a knife. I find this rather curios when comparing real life to the Beatle movie called Help. In the movie Ringo is given a ring that makes him the target of a cult which wants to sacrifice him! They continually chase after him with a knife!

SANTA MONICA, December 30, 1999 — Another Beatle victimized by violence.

Ex-Mop Top George Harrison was stabbed at his London-area home today by a knife-wielding intruder, reports say.

Harrison, 56, was stabbed once in the chest before fending off the attacker. His wife, Olivia, suffered minor head injuries in the attack, but did not require hospitalization….The attack, which reportedly took place sometime around 3:30 a.m. London time, was said to have shocked residents of the quiet, upper-class community of Henley-On-Thames. Harrison’s estate was thought to be particularly well guarded. It reportedly featured 24-hour security, patrol dogs and barbed wire fencing. British authorities said they were investigating burglary as a possible motive.

A 33-year-old man — a resident of the Beatles’ own Liverpool — was arrested and booked on suspicion of attempted murder.

Harrison’s stabbing comes 19 years after fellow ex-bandmate John Lennon was shot and killed outside his New York apartment by obsessed fan Mark David Chapman.

By Jim Bartoo, Hollywood.com Staff
Occultists often use so called sacred numbers to bring them power. Sacrifices are often made on the bases of these numbers. Prime sacred numbers are 3, 6, 7, 9, 11. Sacred multiples are 19, 21, 33.

Note the year that Harrison’s attack took place. It was in 1999. Inverted with the number one left out you have 666, the most sacred number of all. He was 56 years old. 5+6= 11 which is a very sacred number. Note too that he is stabbed by a man who just happens to be 33 years old. This too is a very sacred number since it is 3X11. He was also attacked around 3:30 am (33).

Another interesting event was that Prime Minister Chretien of Canada was attacked by a young man with knife too. The man somehow got through the intense home security and found his way in to into the Prime Ministers home late at night. This murder attempt too had failed.

Conclusion

My feeling is that that the Beatles were members of the same Hollywood occult coven that Roman Polanski was. The Movie Rosemary’s Baby was a future template of what was going to happen to Polanski’s wife Sharon Tate. Also the songs recorded by the Beatles seem to indicate that they knew what was going to take place. I believe that songs like Helter Skelter, which Charles Manson felt he got his orders to kill from, were recorded by the Beatles for that express purpose.

As in the movie Rosemary’s Baby, I believe Sharon Tate was manipulated and set up by all the people that she trusted and loved including her own husband. She was the sacrifice to satan for all Polanski’s success. I for one was not fooled by his tears during his interviews.

At some point, Farrow allegedly feared she would be the next victim of the murder spree

1968 excursion to India, and John Lennon of The Beatles wrote ‘Dear Prudence’ (also a song on White Album) for Mia Farrow’s younger sister

Mark Chapman was the name of Lennon’s killer – Winifred Chapman was the maid who had first found the bodies at 10050 Cielo Drive.

And, I also feel that Anton Szandor LaVey, the founder of The Church of Satan – to whom the Family members (especially Susan Atkins)is the leader of the Hollywood Coven.

Coincidences

Roman Polanski movie,
Knife in the Water 1962

George Harrison attacked by man with knife.

All through the movie Help, Ringo Star is often chased by religious fanatics that are armed with a knife.

Susan Atkins was going to remove Sharon Tates baby with a knife.

Notes and Quotes

Sharon Tate’s unborn baby, killed by the Manson family, was named Paul Richard Polanski.

Theatrical Release: Rosemary’s Baby
June 12 1968

There is no comfort in the coven of the witch Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch And the only man of energy, (Manson) yes the revolution’s pride (Manson) He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
—Leonard Cohen-
“No Diamonds in the Mine”

Sharon Tate
Date of birth (location)
24 January 1943, Dallas, Texas, USA
Date of death:
9 August 1969,

Note the three 9s in this date. Inverted it becomes 666! The number of Rosemary’s baby.

Rosemary’s Baby

Dandy Szandy, Helter Skelter, Rosemary’s Baby, and Other Items Of Inspiration

Ok. So, if you recall from my earlier posts from yesterday, the last few weeks have been a bit emotionally tumultuous for LeDonna. After a sudden, but much needed move away from her emotionally bloodsucking psychic vampire of a job at Matt’s In The Market, LeDonna ended up with too much time on her hands and no refills on her psychotropics, and plunged head first into yet another dreaded ShameSpiral. {Personally, I’m beginning to believe she quite likes these ShameSpirals she’s always twisting about in, since she seems to travel down them quite frequently. I think they are kind of like an amusement park ride for her, like that Barrel Of Monkeys ride she loved so much at AstroWorld as a young child. It’s the adrenaline. You know how those addictive types are!} In fact, this was not just any old ShameSpiral…this one was supermassive, more like a ShameVortex. (Hey, I like that. Can I get a patent on that?)

So, as I was feeding the flames of the firey inferno of despair in my mind with the DuraFlame Logs of misery via Sylvia Plath, I became completely entranced and intoxicated with the macabre and fiendishly morbid parallels between the suicide deaths of Plath and later Assia Wevill…both poets, both the female companions of Ted Hughes, himself one of the most brilliant poets of his generation. Obviously, Plath was his his wife, and was suffering from her own mental maladies well before her relationship began with Hughes, but arguably it was Hughes infidelity with Wevill that led to the couple’s separation, and ultimately, what pushed Plath over the edge to suicide. But what was even more disturbing was the fact that Wevill ended up taking her own life six years after Sylvia…in the exact same manner, with a gas oven. Creepy, huh? Oh but WAIT, there’s more! Prior to gassing herself to death, Assia Wevill snuffed out the 3-year-old child she shared with Hughes, a little girl they called Shura.

Well, Hughes Shura had a clusterfuck of just royally bad luck snowball of his lying, cheating, devil-worshipping ass. Karma’s a bitch, huh, sucka?! What kind of freakish monster would drive two women beyond the point of madness, to a place where they felt an open gas oven would be the best place to poke their head in to get a breath of fresh air?

I don’t know. He looks pretty creepy to me. I don’t know what they saw in him to begin with, maybe he put a love spell on them with all that black magic he was doing.

So, after spending sufficient time sniffing out the coffers of the Plath tragedy, I decided to further feed my insatiable desire to devour all things aberrant, ghoulish and utterly disturbing by feasting at the Old Country Buffet of internet urban legends and conspiracy theories. Before me was a smorgasborg of saucy soul-sapping tales of Illuminati, covert messages, backwards maskings, Hollywood covens and sacrifices to satan, assasination plots, apocalyptic doomsday prophesies…

Why, why, WHY??? am I so fascinated by what is peculiar, weird, anti-social, and slightly off? Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly have that ultra-femme girly girl in me that loves all things luminous, sparkling and pretty, but there is also this really dark streak in me that is just fantastically entertained by the foul and profane. If given the choice of watching either a story about fluffy bunnies making the cancer kids happy, or picking apart the autopsy details of a murder-suicide…I’ll pick the cadaver, every time.

Except at Easter. Then fluffy bunnies are kewl.

So, for whatever reason, since I’m ruminating on Ted Hughes and the negative consequences resulting from his careless and glib invocations of demons and such (Handy Hint, people…if there is any nugget of advice you can take away from this post today, it should be this…please, please, PLEASE, never just ‘casually’ summon a demon or some other nefarious death force, just because you think it’s ‘fun!’ or ‘exciting!’, or ‘I’m not even sure this bullshit is real!’-because-IT IS. Even if you don’t think you’ve seen something big bad and ugly and all you conjuring has been in vain…trust me people. Folks who tend to go around asking for the presence of evil to show itself, unfortunately, end up getting just what they asked for…and often times it’s not what, when, or where it was expected. )

Ok. Ted Hughes, occult, black magic, bad luck…where do I turn to next for more stories of idiots who sell their souls to the Unfriendly One and lived to tell (or maybe not!)??

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! JUST JOKING!!! Ok, for real:

I think my abnornal fear of the devil stems from my early childhood. This was one of the first records Mama gave me as a little girl, it was under the Christmas Tree along with The Sesame Street Alphabet Album.

As a sign of my innate musical proclivities, I soon became bored with the banal whimperings of Grover and Big Bird, and knew all my devil-hating inspirational hymns by heart. I yearned for a new sound, something fresh, but with an edge.

I recalled how profoundly The Beatles had affected me as a young child. Did you know this album was dedicated to Aleister Crowley, the famous occultist? He’s on the cover. You know, since I was lonely and ignored most of the time as a kid, it left me all kinds of time for deep thoughts and meditation. I would lay on my belly and spend hours staring and drooling at all the famous faces on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s. One time Mama gave me too much of my asthma syrup, and one night when I was lying in my playpen I started trippin’ balls while listening to A Day In the Life...and I swear, I started having visions of this guy:

That’s Mr. Lavey. His full name is Anton Szandor Lavey, but I like to call him Szandy. At first, I thought he might be my real daddy, since he was real pale and bald, just like me. Plus, he looked really mean and like he didn’t like me too much, probably another characteristic my biological father possessed. I quickly realized that whew, much to my relief, he wasn’t my father…(or…was he??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!***** )

Turns out, Dandy Szandy there heads up a special church called The Church Of Satan. It’s a chuch for people who don’t seem to like God, or believe in the Baby Jesus. These are people who feel the traditional Christian philosophy , which consists of boring laws like don’t lie, steal, or kill (YAWN!)which are just a drag! and they want to reserve their God- given hedonistic right to do cool stuff like sacrifice small animals while wearing sassy capes, throw curses on dimwitted idiots who cut them off on the freeway or leave the toilet seat up, be really really mad all the time, just cause they can, and to compulsively ram/rub their genitalia up, on or about anything, and absolutely everything they damn well please.

UP NEXT: The amazing link I discovered (gasps!) between Satan, The Beatles, Aleister Crowley, Charles Manson, Roman Polanski, Rosemary’s Baby, Me, David Hasselhoff, and potted meat products.

***** indicates more information regarding this ridiculous delusion will be provided in the upcoming post.

My New Favorite Song

Falling Down – Scarlett Johansson

Damn you, Scarlett Johansson. I’m trying to hate you here, with all of your pouty-lipped seductive perfection. That was supposed to be me who banged Benecio Del Toro in that elevator. He was looking for me, but you were there in the elevator shaft ,lookin’ for some shaft, then Benecio walks in and you just jumped on that poor man and defiled him, an act of lewdness so vile it was a mockery of that bad Aerosmith song. You heathen hussy! He was supposed to be MINE! The latino men all love ME. Thank God for Benecio, there are other days, other elevators, another opportunity. You will not cock-block me next time, O Scarlett Wench!

Oh yeah, but your new song is really kick-ass. I have to hand it to you, I wasn’t expecting anything nearly this cool coming from the likes of you. I had pegged you as more of a Jay-Z or P-Diddy protege. Maybe called “Scar J”, or something like that. I could see you all hooched out with scarlet sequined booty pants and a matching red vinyl bra to show off your “gurls” { editors note: Scarlett refers to her boobs as “her girls”}, and maybe a funky fresh grill with “Scar J” in rubies. Or, maybe not. From a distance, all that red on your teeth could look like bleeding, like maybe you’d been punched by your baby’s daddy or had a bad case of the meth mouth.

No, seriously, the song is great and I am really looking forward to hearing the rest of the record. From what I’ve read, NME has given it stellar reviews, calling it “brilliant” and “sure to top some best of 2008 lists”. And I always stand by my NME as an excellent gauge of musical authority…unless they’re talking about Coldplay. {Sorry! I just could never get into them. Possibly…due to a subliminal Gwyneth Paltrow resentment connection. Oh, and that thing about Chris Martin sounding like a congested muppet, or Dave Matthews having an asthma attack. God, and WHY did they name their kid APPLE? Thankfully it wasn’t a multiple birth, or we would’ve had sisters Pear and Apricot, and brother…hmm. What fruit would be suitable to name a boy after? There really aren’t very many “manly” fruity names. I guess if you name a man after a fruit, it would be like calling him a fruit, and that would be…hmm. Kinda gay? Well, if not totally gay, absolutely, a little bit effeminate at least. Hey, wait…if there were a boy, she could have named him Tom, as in Tomato!!!! That’s right, tomato is indeed a fruit, and quite a masculine one at that. It really would have been hilarious if Gwynnie would have had a whole litter of pups, she could nickname the whole gang “Her Little Fruit Bowl!”}

Wow. Man. Now that’s what I would call a tangent.

Kudos to Scarlett, anybody who can take Tom Waits music and work it into something that doesn’t make me want a lobotomy when I hear it…has magical abilities, and I am in awe.

It’s Been An Interesting Week Here In Loonsville

Look everybody, I finally got a book written about me! It’s about damn time.

Wow. It has been a hell of time for me these past few weeks, and “hell” would be an amusingly appropriate metaphor, as the firey bowels of the netherworld seem to have been the most prevalent topic on my mind. I spent a lot of time this week immersed in subjects of the occult, the bizarre, the strange. I like to feed on news of the paranormal much like a mosquito likes to siphon the putrescent blood of the diseased. I ingest it greedily, then it festers in my brain for a while until it transmutes into a giant tumor of dread and paranoia. This tumor of terror will continue to grow and metastasize rampantly throughout my head, heart, and gut until any prognosis of clear and rational thinking is completely eradicated. This is probably not a good afternoon pastime for someone like myself who is prone to bouts of paranoia and illogical thinking. But since when has that ever stopped me? Sometimes the worse I know something is for my health and sanity, the more likely I am to engorge myself with it.

I think that is called ’self-destructive behavior’. Hmmpf. I may have to look into that one.

Thank God I found myself a new job and I am back in the saddle again. I was off for about 3 weeks after leaving Matt’s. Although it was a good move for me and produced a much needed change in my life, the way it all went down really shoved me right back down into {ANOTHER! YAWN!!!!} massive shame spiral that plummeted me down to depths of darkness I hadn’t seen in at least 2 or 3 days prior to stumbling into this particular spiral. Yeah, I was feeling pretty low.

*Helpful Hint* Really depressed people really probably shouldn’t read Sylvia Plath, or listen to Sylvia Plath reading Sylvia Plath. Yeah. Probably not a good idea.

Oh Sylvia. How I love you. You are the emotionally imbalanced lunachick’s ultimate muse. I’m not sure which is more facinating-the darkly bewitching madness of your writing, or the even crazier truth behind your life. And has anyone ever told you, that the way you read those poems of yours is kinda creepy, too ? I never realized your voice was so…well,haunting. Yeah, it is, really. It really is. I got sucked into watching some clips about you on YouTube and heard the audio of you reciting “Daddy” and “Lady Lazarus” among others. Really brilliant, I have to hand it to you, but as if you and all your damn insanity and suicide and creepy husband Ted Hughes and all weren’t enough to disturb the bejeezus out of me, the malfeasant sound of your voice as you pound out word after word with such an angry froth…it was just downright diabolical. Don’t do that next time, ok, Sylvia? Try to lighten up a little bit, you’re not the only one who gets bummed out, you know. You don’t have to be such a downer. The way you drone on, it’s enough to make someone stick their head in an oven and turn the gas up, and you don’t want that to happen, do you? No, of course not, because gas is really fucking expensive right now, whether it’s for your car or to light your oven to kill yourself.

Try looking on the bright side once in a while, maybe catch an old episode of the Brady Bunch. Especially the ones where the kids sing “Sunshine Day”.

See! Those crazy Bradys always bring a little sunshine into my day. That is, until I notice how thin, popular and pretty Marcia is…and I’m not! Everybody always pays attention to Marcia, and never to me. Marcia always gets the boys, Marcia always gets good grades, Marcia never ever has a bad hair day, Marcia’s poop smells like Chanel No. 5. FUCK MARCIA! MARCIA! MARCIA! MARCIA!

Wow. Gotta get that neurosis of mine under control…

More Pics of The Stay Puff Marshmallow Girl

I am not quite sure what I was thinking here when I designed this sassy Thinking Cap. It was my first foray into the world of fashion design. Early on, you can sense the eccentricities of my style, as well as the obvious Red China influence my father had on me. Fierce!

I think I was going for a “Little Red Popette” theme with my look. I wasn’t even Catholic, but somewhere in me, there was a Cardinal!

“Daddy, wake-up! It’s time to take me to chemo!! DADDY!!!!! DADDY!!!!!!!!”

Behold The Stay Puff Marshmallow Girl in all her blinding white glory!

So bald. So white. So chubby. Really, in many ways, I haven’t changed a bit.

Great New Quick Fix Meal Idea!

Where have you been all my life!???!!

CHEESEBURGER-IN-A-CAN!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!

Yes, the bun,cheese and the condiments are included.

Too busy to grill up a hearty cheeseburger meal for the family, or even swing by the local fast food joint to pick up something pre-made? No worries, mi amigo. Convenience and portability have reached new all-time highs thanks to the ingenuity and culinary prowess of out German compadres. Yes, the same folks who brought us the trusted taste treats of sauerkraut, leberwurst (liver sausage) and schwarzsauer (blood soup), have managed to take the perfection of their homeland creation the Hamburg Steak, top it with cheese and a bunch of other savory accoutrements, and wait-the fun doesn’t just stop there- OH NO! Those crazy yodelin’ lederhosen-heads went off and figured out how to keep the great taste of a cheeseburger alive forever, or at least 5-7 years with the current average shelf-life expectancy. How? By cramming that sucker into a tin can, that’s how! Now you can take a whole bushel of cheeseburgers with you wherever you go! Toss ‘em in your backpack! Keep ‘em in the trunk of your car and have em ready the next time you break down, have a flat, or need to feed that young chinese boy you just abducted before you rape, torture and mutilate him. Of course you want your victims to have a delicious and nutritious last meal! If you’re lucky, you just might taste a hint of that cheeseburger yourself when you sit down to eat him. Yum! Double Deelite!

Cheeseburger-In-A-Can also makes a great gift! I use it as a stocking stuffer. Alex just loves it.

Cheeseburger-In-A-Can is quick and easy to prepare! Simply pop open the can and steam it using a double-boiler method. No double boiler? No worries, just try sticking it in the bathroom sink and let it warm up while you take a shower, or hold your iron up over the top of it and keep pressing the steam button. In about 30-45 minutes, your tasty cheeseburger should be at least lukewarm enough to keep yourself from gagging it up while you cram it down your maw. Now, how exactly do I know it’s ready you ask?  You’ll know Cheeseburger-In-A-Can is at it’s peak flavor profile when it looks like this:

Note the patty will be a uniform shade of greenish-grey. All Cheeseburgers-In-A-Can are precooked to a temperature of 165 degrees to ensure the prevention of nasty food-bourne illnesses. No sorry, no medium rare special orders here! Cheeseburger-In-A-Can wants you taste healthy goodness in every chewy, slimy bite, not the taste of bacterium and parasites! Yuk-O!

Don’t try to microwave Cheeseburger-In-A-Can, it just doesn’t work as well. Instead of a soggy glop of yeasty gump, your bun will magically petrify into a tooth-crushing magnesium-limeshale crust which is just murder on those fillings in your molars.

Cheeseburger-In-A-Can unfortunately is not readily available in stores, but you can order it pretty easily on line. The cost and the wait are well worth it. I’ve enjoyed Cheeseburger-In-A-Can so much I’ve ordered their new side dishes Taters-In-A-Can and Chicken Caesar-In-A-Jar. MMMnnnn! I can’t wait!

Will YOU Please Go To Wild Waves With Me? *please*

I know it’s not quite warm enough yet, but it will be soon. And I really, really, really want to go to Wild Waves. I saw a commercial today for this new casino with this kick-ass waterpark, and it just got me all excited for summertime again. And since I really shouldn’t be going to casinos-not because of the gambling, but because it’s on an indian reservation, and no doubt it’d spark a drinking binge for me-the next best thing is our sooper-cool Six Flags ThemePark Enchanted Village/Wild Waves!!!

(Actually, the Enchanted Village part is really gimpy. It’s more like those cheesy portable rodeo carnivals with the ancient rickety rides you’re sure are going to collapse and fall apart on you, crushing you to death in a smoking heap of rust of cracked plastic) But the Wild Waves part really is hella fun and sooper kewl. I’m designing my own waterslide that I hope the Six Flags people will buy from me, I think it would be a runaway smash sensation with both kids and parents and even old folks alike. It would be called the LeDonna Lee Lightening Locomotive (TM) Liquid Luge (and FunTime Silicone Lubricant wading Pool). It would look something like this:

Now I know what you’re thinking, it LOOKS like it would just be any other regular old waterslide, but oh no, this one is different. Rather than cascading down the twisted mountain of loops, curves and swerves on water, (so yesterday!) you and your friends will be gliding along a lightweight film of AstroLube, splashing down into an luxuriously exhilarating lagoon of cherry-flavored cellulose carbohydrate personal lubricant! (Banana flavor is available every Wednesday and the third Friday night of the month) Since it’s 99.3% water, it’s easily hosed off by our onsite Personal Powerwash SuperShower! And if you’re liking what you’re feeling, you can just continue the fun down at the LD Lover’s Lounge where you can frolic in the Hasbro(TM) Twister Tank, pin’ em down down at the MMA Brazilian Jujitsu Oil Wrestling Arena,or just turn down the lights and up the love in the LD Orgymatic Freelovin’ Nub Hut (maximum capacity 458 ) brought to you by Budweiser and our friends at Durex. Oh, and mark your calendars-next summer I hope to add on the bodacious LeDonnarama Disko Bootie Barn and Anal LuvHut. See you all there!

I’m really sad, because my boyfriend refuses to go to Wild Waves with me. He says swimming in public pools is unsanitary, and he picked up the ringworm one time when he went to a waterpark as a kid. Personally, I think he just doesn’t want to admit he probably got it from himself. {I know what a secret poop-picker upper he was when he was a kid. Ooops, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.} Sorry, hun. Besides, I’m not afraid of anybody’s funky old ringworm! I have my own chiggers and body lice, that’ll scare any old puss-ass ringworm away! Shoo!

I think this deep-seeded desire for aquatastic beachtime summer fun stems from a deficit from my childhood. As a young adolescent, I was overweight and abhorrently pale, and would rather endure the flames of a thousand fires than expose the world to my obscene fleshiness in a bathing suit or shorts.As a result I rarely spent much time in the sun (which lead to the vicious circle of continuous pastiness and obesity, as one generally cannot get a tan if their skin is never exposed to the sun, and one cannot shed pounds if their lard ass refuses to move). There was one time that I gathered up enough nerve to go to Waterworld with a few of my other calorically-challenged friends. Here we are posing for the camera in an effort to appear happy, footloose and fancy-free:

Of course, I’m the one one the right, the redhead. (I always made sure I was the runt of the litter, subversively choosing my friends that made me look thinner. I know, I know, it’s a self-esteem issue)

Also, I remember I was always trying to get my parents to take me out to a waterpark, or even to a neighborhood swimming pool. But they never really had the time, they were always busy working at the store. Finally, Mama caved in and got me this thing here to shut me up:

I’m not sure what that was, I think she emptied out one of her old plastic shoe bins. It was fun and all, but somehow, it just didn’t quite do the trick. My heart still yearned for just a little something more.

So please, would you please, accompany me to Wild Waves this summer! We can get a Season Pass, or maybe cash in some Pepsi Cans and get $5 off an EarlyBird admission. It’ll be fun. We’ll get matching sunburns, drink $6 fountain pops, and maybe even come out of it with an ear infection!! Yay!!! Thank you so much, you’re the best! I can’t wait! Woo Hoo! Yay!!!!! I’m goin’ to Wild Waves! I’m goin’to Wild Waves! (Insert “Happy Dance” here)

I Told You I Looked Scary When I Wake Up In The Morning!

This here was the morning I wokeup and thought…”DAMN! I guess I really should stop drinkin‘”

Has anyone here seen my concealer? I can’t seem to find it, I think I need a touch up. And where’s my visine? Do any of you guys have a recommendation for a really good tooth whitener? I mean one that REALLY works? These Crest Strips just aren’t doin’ the trick.

My New ?’s For The eHarmony Profile

Ok, I admit it. I am a completely sheep-minded, easily malleable, suggestible, susceptible, bidable, manipulable foon. My is brain is like a magnetic lump of silly putty-I am just that impressionable. Palm trees in Florida in the midst of hurricane season are not as easily swayed as I. I am the ultimate marketing quarry, a fledgling ad exec’s wet dream.

I am a sucker.

And because I am a sucker, I am easily worn down by repetition. Just ask my daughter. She has calculated out that although it can take an upwards of 86-90 pleas for me to break down and give into whatever the hell it is she wants at a given whim, I will give in eventually, and that’s more important than the time she has to invest in the asking. Some may frown upon this as wishy-washy and ineffectual parenting, but I beg to differ. By taking the time to wear me down with her incessant whimpers and demands, she learned early on very valuable life-skills such as persistence, goal-setting, and determination-the importance of never taking no for an answer!

So, it’s easy to see why, after years of being barraged by hundreds of thousands of exponentially annoying eHarmony commercials-you know the ones-with all the images of your prototypical white-bread,vanilla-bean-makes-me-reach-for-my-kaopectate-perfect couples( You know,like this one:

“Oh, we’re so normal! We’re so successful, but in a no-too-showy way! Oh, and we’re happy! So very very happy!!”) and promises to find MY perfect match-yes, MY perfect match -a match made based on pivotal information about me,my life, and all it’s inner tinkererings, gathered by detailed questionnaires focusing on 29-YES! TWENTY-NINE key Dimensions Of Compatibilty. Not 25. Not 26! Not even twen-ty-seven or twen-ty-EIGHT, but fuckin’ A, no shit, TWENTY NINE MOTHERFUCKING DIMENSIONS OF COSMIC COMPATIBILITY! Drop kick me,Jesus, through the goal posts of life! Hallefuckinlooyah, but that’s a certifiable shitton of personality dimensions. Now, I don’t know why there’s not thirty dimensions-I’m guessing the folks writing the profile have attention issues like myself, got bored and went, fuck it! Twenty-nine’s good enough! I’m takin’a nap! At anyrate,I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to take their free personality profile and find out for myself what all the hoohah was about, and honestly, I just couldn’t wait to find my soulmate.

So, I go through about 35 minutes of vaguely worded questions that I’m sure are supposed to be deep, complex, esoteric and soul-seeking, but are really flimsy little feel good beat-around-the-bush-isms that all center back to three key points of concern:

1) Are you happy,motivated,success-driven?

2) Do you have a lot of money?

3) Do you love the Baby Jesus? ***

*** Although ‘loving Baby Jesus’ is actually an implied theme, it is glaringly apparent this service is geared towards a more conservative, middle of the road client, folk who are most likely homely and have fostered an artificially superficial and optimistic outlook on life. Although I’m not one to generalize,these types generally tend to tend to fall into the Bible=thumping category.***

I felt there were large gaps in critical data one would need to decide if someone was an ideal match-hell, I wouldn’t even go out on a first date with the 7 hose-heads they wanted to hook me up with. The reality is the current eHarmony profile is a lot like a track house. It’s pretty on the outside, but on the inside, it’s a worthless piece of shit. And being the spearheading kind of gal I am, I took the liberty of contacting eHarmony and shared with them my critiques, and surprisingly, they were very open to suggestions and asked me to compile my own set of questions to enhance the current personality profile. Energized by the prospect of creating a vehicle that could deeply delve into the inner bowels of a persons soul and extract out the true essence of their fetid nature, I have come up with an amazing personality profiling tool. These questions get to the “meat” of the matter, so to speak, and reveal what we all truly want to know about our potential mates and their character.

NEW AND IMPROVED ADDENDUM TO LAMEASS eHARMONY QUESTIONNAIRE

rate on a scale of 1-5, with 1 suggesting Strongly Do Not Agree, 3 Neutral, 5 Strongly Agree:

1. I like to drink wine with my dinner.

2. I like to drink wine,or perhaps even beer,or possibly refreshing mixed drink beverage such as margaritas after dinner.

3. I like to drink wine, beer,whisky,vodka,mouthwash,or rubbing alcohol up until bedtime, or I pass out,whichever comes first.

4. I like to start my mornings with a breakfast of PBR and the Bible, and maybe some some sausage while I’m reading.

5.Drinking at lunchtime is one of my favorite pastimes.

6. Drinking on the job is how I aced my last promotion.

7.Drinking and driving doesn’t count if you’re a)less than a mile away from home or b) under 25 mph.

8. I would consider myself an advocate for the legalization of marijuana.

9. Video games are a great way to spend “together time”.

10. I would say cocaine or methamphetamine users often get a bad rap.

11. I am in favor of better dental care provisions to be available to crackheads and tweakers.

12. I look at Grand Theft Auto the same way I look at library books.

13. I routinely put out on a first date.

14. 100 one night stands with people whose names I cannot recall is really the norm for me.

15. I have sold my body for money. Or drugs. Or a piece of pizza.

16. Manufacturing illegal substances is a great way to supplement your income.

17. Jail time is not much more than a bar mitzvah-it’s a rite of passage.

18. Recycling bins are great makeshift nap areas in a pinch.

19. Criminal charges are a great way to meet sexy lawyers.

20.Living with schizophrenia really isn’t as debilitating as I thought it would be.

21. The voices I hear in my head mainly say positive things.

22. My neighbor’s medicine cabinet is a great source for Vicodin.

23. Hot tub parties with your neighbor’s spouse/partner is ok, as long as their spouse/partner is a great big bitch/asshole/douchebag.

24. I feel most comfortable when I’m at an orgy.

25.I rarely, if ever, have sexual relations with relatives.

26. I am happiest when I secretly have a vibrating anal plug pleasuring me while I work/shop for groceries.

27. I always check out my poop and giggle at it monstrous size before I flush it away.

28. I am prone to fits of explosive diarrhea.

29. My feet are free of corns, callouses, excess dry skin and assorted toenail fungii.

30.I was not molested as a child.

31.I best express my negative feelings and emotions by punching things.

32. I only argue with stupid people and those who don’t agree with me.

33. Monogamy is really so yesterday.

34. Compulsive masturbation is just what one has to do to get through those “dry” dating periods.

35. Anal sex is totally kewl.

36. Midgets turn me on.

37.I haven’t tortured or sexually mutilated anyone since I was a wee child.

38. Felonies are a great way for a potential employee to provide business owners much needed tax breaks.

39. I believe that the GED stands for “Great Education, Dude!”

40. I think adults who still live with their parents are sweet people who value family bonds.

41. I really am a MGD ,football, buffalo wing loving guy/gal.

42. I would much rather dine at a Sizzler than at a Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse.

43. I LOVE SHOPPING MALLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

44. Babies are more like tiny drunks to me than precious angels.

45. I have a lot of tattoos.

46. I would rather have a sharp stick jammed in my eye than listen to a Dave Matthews song.

47. You can tell a lot about a person by their choice of karoake tunes.

48. The recreational use of psychedelics allows me a precious opportunity to connect with God.

49. I think recycling is for sissies.

50. In the morning, I tend to resemble a muppet.

I have many more, but they will come later. For now, I sleep! If you have any suggestions, please feel free to share.

life is so unfair

This is me and my friends at 18, circa 1988:

Can you guess which one is me? Hint: I’m wearing something made out of stolen trailer park drapes.

Now, this is my daughter and her friends at 18:

Actually, they’re not quite 18 in this pic, but still??? WTF??? These kids all look like supermodels.! Me-I looked like a reject from a Depeche Mode video casting call. What the hell happened? Is it something in the water? What are we feeding these kids that’s causing them to mature so damn fast? We simply cannot be from the same genepool. My theory is I was kidnapped by the government and held unconscious for several days at a CIA Population Control Camp, where my own aesthetically inferior fetus was extracted and replaced by a genetically perfect cyborg babybot vastly superior in both beauty and intellect to her subpar maternal host. This was part of a covert environmental welfare initiative started by our nations leaders targeted at homely or odd looking individuals who have the potential to further pollute our nation’s landscape by spawning future generations of ugly children.Removal of the uncomely child was considered to be beneficial to the overall psychiatric well being of the parents, as well as the entire nation, because let’s face it-nobody wants to look at an ugly child, let alone be burdened with the awesome responsibilty of loving it and nuturing it for 18 years. It was a bold move by our leaders to drop the number of child neglect and abandonment cases nationwide, as well as a cooperative effort with Abercrombie and Fitch to secure their future customer base.

Indeed, this child is far too spectacular to be the authentic fruit of my womb. But I’m proud of her, and I love her as if she were a chip off the ol’ ovary. {Oh, and if you’re wondering what happened to all the left over ugly fetuses…I’m not sure, but I think the government recycled most of them into cattle feed, although I did hear of some going on to be used in some innovative new research and development in the health and beauty field, quite possibly extracting the collagen and other vital tissues to make some really kick ass lip-plumpers and wrinkle-fillers for the rich and celebutized. Which is great, if you think of it, because it’s using something that once would have been ugly, and using it to make something pretty and tolerable to the mutton-headed masses! Hoo-ray!