The Angel spoke through a school shooting. He said Maher shall... can talk he. Then Bill Maher complied, so I'm back!

The CONtrail crowd literally revived my writing career. Having an intimate group of intellectually stimulating friends was one of the two upgrades required to arouse me. The other was having my arch nemesis Bill Maher say Cat or Brown, as my name is Cat Brown. I just needed to know if I'm getting anywhere with this! He ended up saying both, but not in the same joke, not this time.

Bill comes through nicely in this joke from January 26th.

He's in big trouble now, that's for sure. I have to get personal. Basically I was taking the high road to protect our privacy, but that's out the window. So is all the glass that clad my Caribbean house on the hill. Consequently, besides being very happy that Bill is still here, I have to reveal my Angel's rationale for sacrificing everything except concrete in the Atlantic's strongest yet hurricane... Irma 666. A cat 5 at ground level jumps a notch at my altitude of 1350 ft above sea level.

That's us in the middle, St. Maarten and Anguilla.

...and me with Antoinette Fuller and Sunny Suns Freeanch below. Of course most of us survived none the worse for wear.

But I have to save Irma for a later entry... I've also known all along the amount of unpaid work involved in taking back the reins of this blog. After a devastating storm this size it's easy to sink into what David Icke describes as low vibrational Reptilian moon programming, and worry about this and that. In our case it cannot possibly make sense to project insecurity, especially since we're selling cosmic jokes. No sad face. This synchronicity shit must translate into finances somewhere down the line, right? Especially since I'm growing up and cutting down on flirting, lol. I have an idealistic feeling this will solve alot of issues.

On a tangent about David's fascinating theories, it's always nice to have a plausible technological explanation, even for Reptilians installing the moon to suppress mankind... but the bottom line is that we are responsible for our own happiness. I don't like to feel subjugated, and his theory imposes this. Luckily, according to Zen philosophy, the alien threat narrative violates the basic premise of non-duality, so they're not aliens and we have to accommodate each other.

If humans are like cattle to them, and only a resource, we should treat our own dependent livestock better, give them a happy life and an unsuspected, humane death, such as CAK 'controlled atmosphere killing' - and our Reptilian ranchers could set up a similar system for us as well, if they like the taste of humans so much. There has to be a spice that covers for the lack of terror adrenaline.

Come to think of it, it's a trade off many people might be willing to accept, in exchange for honesty from the aristocracy. Or would we rather face a hopeless conflict with 8 ft Aliens, on top of Trump's record smashing debt?

~

From the last blog post:

In Russia:

and in the US:

The Christmas blog post's synchronicities were a slap in the face, a hot and cold trademark Illuminati MK Ultra horror. That was the wild bus crash in Moscow with the big ad on the side including a web link to Almatea birthing center, alluding to the birth (or public awakening) of the Angel, followed by the enraged negation of life in the Bronx Christmas fire, where several children were among the human offerings.

I was really ready to call it quits. I set up my AI to feed only good news; ignorance is so bliss! What are they trying to do, fracture me or something?! Tibetan Tantric shamanism is a hard nut to crack. More on that later. Anyway, my rationale was that surviving Irma is a perfect opportunity to get out of the writing game, so I was making my way back to earth gently on the golden parachute.

Retirement had been in the works for a while. Tweet from last year:

But then things got freeaaky in the news, and I couldn't look away. I had to stare at the sitcom playout of events.

Whoever is representing me is doing a great job at forcing Bill's hand. Remember he is the poster boy for Atheism. But what does he really believe? How did he end up with my Genie bottle? And how did he get stuck in there head first?

You may recall back in June 2017 Bill got away with sputtering 'house nigger!' under the guise it slipped out inadvertently.

Right afterwards, he retweeted this Esquire article, to reassure us he actually knows exactly what he's saying.

It's time to draw some conclusions. Let's analyze this with level headed objectivity.

I first noticed Illuminati tampering when I saw the Time's Up movement, leading up to the Golden Globe Awards.

Besides the welcome affirmation of women fighting back, there is a deeper meaning. We know Hollywood - it's too theatrical to be just that. There is also the hourglass running out on Bill and I's 11th anniversary in social media. As I tweeted time and again, after so many years, senior ethics and the natural law says we have to be more transparent, less opaque. The wind oracle agreed.

On January 19th, when Bill came back from vacation, he didn't say Cat or Brown, to my great chagrin and immediate relief. He only offered up our co-opted Pope, held in siege by satanic interests.

Here he is on Jan 19th show, holding an auburn brunette, and Bill is sympathizing with him... go figure... They commiserate how difficult it is to slow dance to Stairway to Heaven. How many times did I write that I can't sing but I can sure suck a Stairway to Heaven? Anyway, the Pope does not have the same appeal to me as he used to before the ominous transition, so this pious joke did not qualify as 'a message'... and the physics of emotion went into lockdown.

Minutes after the show finished that night, there was a federal govt shutdown, and Bill announced it on Overtime. Did he realize the shutdown was not only a Trumpist cabriole, but also the metaphysical outcome of his silence in our narrative? Time's Up. As of then the news got crazier and crazier until the ultimatum came...

...A school shooting in Marshall, Kentucky.

Maher shall, can talk he.

And look who's on the phone, CBS News producer Graham Kates! The most amazing thing about having an Angel named Bill is that we're very happy together and we love to constantly remind ourselves that we belong to each other. This is the third or fourth time a word game leads to Greys, and this time it's not just any Gray, but Gray ham Kate's. Yes, that's my showoff, hugging me while reassuring that Maher shall send a message. Can talk he, after all.

I hope Katt Williams is ok! I saw him funny as ever and drenched in sweat like he's still hitting rocks. Not wise to tempt fate. Weed is amply sufficient and delicious.

Bill came through, finally with the 'Cat Ladies Need Pussy Grabbers' joke, and again this week, I guess because I'm so slow sending this out... with the brown groundhog on ice - my last name is Brown.

I've been really busy after the storm so I haven't had time to write except today, Super Bowl Sunday, but I find he gets even less of a pass than me. Maher shall! When he omitted saying Cat or Brown on his return in January, things got instantly weird leading up to the Marshall shooting. After the administration turned the gov't back on, within only one day, the Hawaiian earthquake/tsunami threat picked up the urgency of the Time's Up moment.

That should have made up his mind right there to give in to me body and soul, but not quite, we still have to jump through hoops.

I watched this live, and I JUST KNEW IT. Thankfully, my bae the Beast didn't make good on his tsunami threat... just like He blocked two incoming missiles from N. Korea, allegedly.

Here's a classic NWO coverup in action. Who you gonna believe, them or me? I think it did happen and the missiles were in fact diverted, first in Hawaii and the next day in Japan.

and...

See, He's not all bad! My Angel is either a Reptilian, a Grey, or Bill is well past the 33rd degree - don't say I didn't attempt to warn you.

I know what I'm proposing is even way beyond the heights of fantasy David Icke boasts about, but it's plain and obvious to me, and certainly within visible light. This whole emotional burn out episode culminated with another heart wrenching name combination.

Look at this January 31st basketball headline about two players injured 5 days apart, Kevin Love and John Wall, with Wall to be replaced by Goran Dragic. The tragic dragon.

I wonder if others notice there's something weirdly poetic about these news. Love, Wall, Tragic... Cheer up! In the deepest meaning of non-duality there cannot be any walls.