Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Tuesday, September 28, 2021

The Escape Of A Nonagenarian

 

Elderly Serial Killer Escapes From Prison, Kills Forty Seven People On The Way Out

Calgary (AP) The world's most notorious serial killer is out on the loose after a daring escape from the  Stormhaven Women's Prison on the weekend. The jailbreak involved hostages, exchanges of gunfire with prison guards, and the brutal slaughter of twenty guards, nineteen inmates, and eight visitors. It was committed by someone who, at first glance, you wouldn't expect it out of. A ninety two year old grandmother-like figure who, nonetheless, has gone down in history as the world's most prolific murderer.

We speak, of course, of Jessica Fletcher.


Fletcher was once the esteemed mystery novelist known for involving herself in police investigations in her home town of Cabot Cove and beyond. Cabot Cove, a sleepy community in Maine, was deemed the world's most dangerous place to live with more murders per capita in each year for a village of its size. Fletcher was known to meddle in police cases of the latest murder, conveniently pointing the finger at the likely suspect. Only later did it come out that Fletcher framed each and every one in a systematic way. Innocent people were executed or imprisoned for years. Her trail of destruction is thought to consist of thousands of victims over decades.


When the truth finally came out, Fletcher was arrested in Canada for a series of murders by the legendary RCMP inspector Lars Ulrich, the world's crankiest lawman. Her spree of crimes began to be exposed in the aftermath of that arrest, and it was noted throughout the pre-trial and trial process that Fletcher became fixated on Ulrich, often threatening the Mountie in court in graphic ways. While other jurisdictions conducted their own investigations, based on the acquisition of Fletcher's diaries, and compiled lists of murders attributable to her, the primary case against her proceeded in Canada, where custody of the suspect deemed the Crown's case against the author to allow for first dibs in prosecution. Other jurisdictions have since, in absentia, run trials against Fletcher and secured convictions, adding on to her multiple life sentences. 


Fletcher seemed to take to life in prison in stride, enjoying the notoriety of a serial killer. Despite her advanced age, she quickly established herself as the alpha in the prison population, killing three rivals in her first two days behind bars. She was known, following her conviction, to rant about Ulrich constantly, while her supporters insisted that she was framed for murder and was in fact innocent of all crimes she was accused and convicted of.

On Sunday she received a visitor from the Free Jessica Fletcher Committee, one Alison Gaines, the vice president of the committee's fundraising committee, taking her hostage, turning the prison into a bloodbath of stabbings, shootings, and explosions before taking a facility director's car and killing her hostage as the last of the forty seven dead of her latest rampage. She was last seen driving west, with the car abandoned two hours later. A rash of car thefts may or may not have to do with her.


Across the world, people are wary of the threat presented by the elderly but deadly serial killer. Her nephew Grady Fletcher, reached at home, was resigned to it all. "It's such a shock," he told reporters by phone. "Even knowing all she has done, it's hard to reconcile my dear sweet aunt with the monster that she's been portrayed as. Someone must have made a mistake somewhere along the line."

Senator Ted Cruz, often jokingly accused of being the Zodiac Killer by late night comedians, had his own take on the matter. "You know, it may well be that Jessica Fletcher was the real Zodiac Killer and at some point suggested to one of those late night comedy writers that it was me. It's a conspiracy, and I want it investigated by the Justice Department and Fox News. Don't forget, Tucker, you owe me."


Police on both sides of the border are extensively hunting for Fletcher in the wake of her escape. An examination of her jail cell found multiple handwritten notes and photographs of Inspector Ulrich with his eyes scratched out, along with a bizarre manifesto promising to torture the Inspector and cannibalize him while he was still alive. "It's a profound obsession," consulting psychologist Dr. Julia Denham said. "This is the man who finally ended her crime spree, and that's unacceptable for someone as deeply psychopathic as Fletcher. She won't rest until she has him in her grasp."


Even though they're not that Lars Ulrich, multiple people by the name Lars Ulrich around the world have gone to police precincts and stations for protection. That includes the other Lars Ulrich, the deafened Metallica drummer who doesn't look anything like the Mountie. Lars, reached from an undisclosed location with a panic room, spoke to this reporter by phone, sounding worried and frantic. "It's crazy, man, totally *****ing crazy. This batshit crazy old codger is out to kill Lars ****ing Ulrich! And that's me! But it's not me, it's that other Lars Ulrich. Why the **** did we both have to be named Lars Ulrich?"


Where is the most prolific serial killer of all time? Time will tell. She is now the subject of the biggest manhunt of all time, with multiple police jurisdictions searching for her on either side of the border. She is not to be underestimated, having had shown for years a resourcefulness and cunning personality hidden behind a grandmotherly charm. The RCMP has warned that she is to be considered extremely dangerous, past ninety or not, and asks that anyone seeing her not attempt to engage her but call police immediately.


As for the Inspector? The world's grouchiest lawman was reached by reporters in Vancouver, where he had chased Godzilla into the sea after an epic pursuit across the western mountains. The giant lizard was last seen swimming past Vancouver Island at a fast clip. Reassured by reporters that they all knew he was not that Lars Ulrich, the legendary Mountie seemed more at ease. "Yes, I know that battleaxe escaped. And yes, I expect she wants to even the score with me. Am I concerned? Not really."

"She is a notorious serial killer," one reporter pointed out.

Ulrich nodded. "And people should take that seriously. I put nothing past her. But her chances against me? A snowball has a better chance in hell."


"What do you think about her intention to cannibalize you while you're still alive?" this reporter asked.

"First, that she'd have to get me in that position first, which isn't likely," Ulrich said. "Second, I think that she's bat shit crazy."

And so it is. Somewhere out there in the Canadian West, a blood crazed serial killer with a habit of framing people for her murders over afternoon tea is on the loose. People have died. More people may yet die. And the world's grouchiest lawman is ready for whatever comes next.

Especially punching out entertainment reporters if they mistake him for the other Lars Ulrich.

Monday, September 20, 2021

Monday, September 13, 2021

Curse Of The Spell Caster Spammers

They will never learn to just go away. They can't take a hint and just drop dead. As much as we'd all like that to happen. I speak of course of the vile internet spammers and scammers. That wretched lot who just keep leaving the same irrelevant comments on blogs, send us emails promising riches or a better life... all while providing none of that to the poor suckers who actually take them up on it. Some weeks back I posted about a comment from a spell caster spam (likely written by the very same spell caster (or, let's face it, the con artist passing himself off as a spell caster, because that's the truth). On that very post, in the days that followed, I got numerous spam comments that quickly ended up in the purgatory of spam folders. I decided to preserve three of them here, for the purposes of ridiculing the morons who actually write this crap.


I want to inform you all that there is a spell caster that is genuine and real.I never really believed in any of these things but when I was losing My Ex I needed help and somewhere to turn badly. I found consultant isong SPELLS and i ordered a LOVE SPELL. Several days later my phone rang My Ex was in his old self again and wanted to come back to me! Not only come back,the spell caster opened him up to how much I loved and needed him.this Spell Casting isn't brainwashing, but they opened his eyes to how much we have to share together for the rest of our life.I recommend you if you are in my old situation to try it.It will bring you a wonderful surprises as well as your lover back to you.And can also help you get pregnant

I'm so very grateful to Dr oluba, for bringing my husband who left me for another woman, that moment my husband Left me I thought I lost everything until a friend of my gave me Dr oluba, WhatsApp contact, I messaged him and told him the pain I was going through so he told me that everything was going to be fine that if I have the faith and believe in him that the spell will surely work for me and my husband will surely come back home and he told me what to do, so those things were done and 24 hrs later my husband came back home begging for my forgiveness, am so happy and grateful to Dr oluba, if you need his help email him

My wife was flirting with another man. until she vanished away, I was desperate to get her back, I wasted so much time and money trying to get my wife back, I tried almost all possibilities to have her back and nothing worked. I became lonely. To make it short, I found a spell caster, Dr love. I saw the good testimonies about his wonderful work and after reading the Testimonials, I decided I had to try and give it one last try and After the spells, a miracle happened, my wife came home. It was awesome, anyone who needs help, should email him


Yes, numerous comments just like those. And no doubt this post will attract more of them. You call out these people for what they are and it's like moths to a source of light. They spin the tale of the lover lost and how their esteemed spellcaster (who's a doctor of what, precisely? Because just calling yourself a doctor doesn't make you one) set their life back right. 

There are the usual tell tales of spam comments. Capitalized words that don't need it. Spacing issues. The same form letter format with names changed here and there, but let's face it, these all pretty much read the same way.


Our first spammer claims that 'it will bring you a wonderful surprises as well as your lover back to you. And can help you get pregnant.' Wow. First, that's some potent spell casting from your totally fake spell caster. Second, I can't get pregnant. I'm a man. And third: I hate kids. Hate 'em, hate 'em, hate 'em, can't stand 'em. Why would I want to have one?

Our second spammer, incidentally, has the worst photoshopped image for her profile. A head on a neck that doesn't feel right. And... how do I put this delicately? A large bust size. Very large. Spilling out of the shirt size. She's repeatedly spammed the same comment over and over again about Dr Oluba (note to spammer, if you're going to abbreviate doctor, than you should write it as Dr.. Otherwise you're not going to be taken seriously. As if you ever were.)


And our third claims to be a man (again, these are bot comments written by the same bot factory of spell caster spammers. Spammers are not, strictly speaking, human beings). He tells us his wife was flirting with another man. He says "until she vanished away, I was desperate to get her back"... well, wait a minute. That comma shouldn't be there. Because if it's there, it makes the sentence read that you were desperate to get her back until she vanished away. See what it means? If this was legitimate (which it's not), when she 'vanished away' (which, again, is not the way a real person speaks), you weren't all that desperate to get her back. 

And he comes up with the dumbest of names for his spell caster. Dr Love. Uh huh. Sure, that sounds legitimate.


As said earlier, I imagine this very post will attract more of the spell caster spam. Some may be briefly published before I send them to the hellscape of the spam comments folder. They won't get the point that I'm making here, which I'll sum up with to each of them.

Ready, spell caster fans? I'm talking to you.

Here's what I have to say. Listen closely.


Go fuck yourselves.

I don't care less about your totally fake fucking con artist spell casting doctor.

All of you should do the universe a favour and throw yourselves off a cliff. 

Do you understand me now?

In short: fuck off.

Monday, August 30, 2021

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And once more we have the perspective of Her Divine Majesty, Empress Of All She Surveys. Otherwise known as the cat.


7:05 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch. Yawning. Contemplating when to take my next nap.


7:08 AM. An examination of the front yard is undertaken from the back of the couch. Flying lunches out on the grass. If only there wasn't glass between us right now...


7:12 AM. Waiting on the staff to get downstairs. After all, I must have breakfast, and I'd really rather not be dealing with field rations right about now.


7:21 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs and says good morning. It's about time, staff. Are you aware I've been awake a whole sixteen minutes and haven't had breakfast yet?


7:22 AM. ...and another thing, staff, honestly, would it kill you to not take out the field rations? I've lost count of how many times I've expressed to you my disdain for field rations. Milk and some meat is perfectly suitable for me in the mornings, and while it would be ideal to have you pre-chill the plate before putting meat on it, we can't always get what we want, right? My point is, no field rations.


7:24 AM. The staff puts down a bowl of milk and a plate of tuna. She also sets down a bowl of field rations. I sigh, and help myself to the milk and tuna.


7:26 AM. Departing from the kitchen after finishing my breakfast and making a point of completely ignoring the field rations.


7:34 AM. Sitting on the back of the living room couch, overlooking the yard. Somewhere off in the distance that idiot hound from down the road is barking like a maniac. Emphasis on idiot.


7:45 AM. The staff is on her way out the door. I bid her good day and recommend she stop in at the grocery store before coming home. We're getting short on catnip.


7:47 AM. Watching the staff depart in her car. Well, my car, since this is my house, and she's my staff... but I really don't make much use of that car.

Anyway, what to do with the day. Oh, yes. A nap would do me nicely.


10:03 AM. Watching the Weather Network. The meteorologist is saying how she swears, pinkie swears, that this is the last hot spell of the summer. It had better be, lady, or you and I will have words.


11:17 AM. Feeling a bit hungry after my second nap of the morning. What's in the kitchen that makes suitable eating?


11:19 AM. Discouraged by the presence of field rations in my bowl. Well, that's what I get for ignoring it earlier.


11:21 AM. Despite my reservations, I help myself to some of the field rations.


1:38 PM. Waking up from another nap. It'll be hours before the staff gets here. 


1:53 PM. My explorations have found something of interest in the upstairs hall closet. A ball of yarn. How can I resist that?


2:09 PM. Totally tuckered out after undoing the ball of yarn all over the place. A nap is in order.


4:24 PM. Waking up from my nap. Looking around. Oh, yes. I undid that yarn. Now how on earth did I manage to get it strung up around the chandelier like that?


4:31 PM. A full inspection of the yarn has been made. Well, let's just say the staff is going to have some fun getting all of this yarn undone when she comes home. But that's part of the point of doing it in the first place.


5:28 PM. The staff comes in the front door and starts seeing all of the yarn scattered all over the place. I am sitting here looking quite proud of myself. Yes, staff. I did this.


5:55 PM. The staff has finished gathering up all of the yarn, which can't possibly be wound back up into a ball now. You know, staff, if you hadn't left that door ajar, this wouldn't have happened. The point I'm trying to make here is that this is all on you.


6:28 PM. Dinner with the staff. She's cut up some beef for me and served it on a plate. I don't know why she insists on having tomatoes along with her meat, but then again, human beings are very strange animals.


7:02 PM. Supervising the staff while she does the dishes. I'd help, staff, really, I would, but you know what I think of sinks full of water.


7:31 PM. The staff is watching that game show she likes. This just hasn't been the same since that guy died. He was as smooth as a cat.


8:54 PM. Lying on the couch in the living room, contemplating the great mysteries of existence. Is there philosophical meaning in a hairball?


11:38 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff. Good night. But as always, keep the door open. I reserve all rights to sit and stare at you at three in the morning until you wake up startled, after all.