Pursuing the life of a pug. A boxer. The smell of sweat and deprivation matched the humidity and heat from the lights. There had to be a better way of making a living. That time has passed. Once the taste was acquired, it was all over.

I could smell the leather before it hit me. The twist of the hide tore at the flesh, leaving it raw only to be hit again.

Once he even had broken into a house of a friend to re-alphabetize books and had been arrested for breaking and entering.

Feng Shui Before It Was Cool

Humanity evolved on Earth alongside a prehistoric race of brain parasites called the Noveratu. Their need to drink blood inspired countless legends of merciless monsters, called Jiangshi, Mosquitofolk, or, more commonly…. Vampires. 

Throughout Human history, these Vampires have manipulated us, creating war, inequity, and misery to create fertile feeding grounds for their bloodthirsty needs. 

Once the space age began, and Humanity had touched every corner of our galaxy, the Vampires intertwined themselves into our many alliances with alien races. 

In an event called The Great Betrayal, Vampires embedded into our society turned on their Human neighbors and family members. 

Ninety percent of Humans were murdered before anyone knew what was happening, and even more perished in the battles which ensued. 

The Galactic War was brief, and incredibly destructive. 

Now the great Noveratu Empire spreads across the galaxy, subjugating the aliens it can enslave, and destroying the species who resist. 

Only one free Human world remains, the distant and inhospitable world of Alta Munda. There, a small team of genetically enhanced superhuman soldiers and spies form the Time Corps of the Human Republic. 

Using new technology, they are sent back in time in twelve hour bursts, to try and rewrite history. 

The Galactic War has been lost. But now the Time Corps Agents have a chance to prevent the Galactic War from ever happening by rewriting history, one moment at a time, in… the Time Wars!

Time Wars: Strike Team!

“We’re representatives of the federal government. There has been a breach of security regarding sensitive top-secret documents. We’ve caught a former president, then the current one, then a former VP. Once that all happened, they formed a task force. They realized that if past officials have unauthorized custody of top secret classified material, then we will check everyone to assure transparency and equality.”

“And maybe also to direct attention away from, and reduce the appearance of, any crimes committed,” I said.

The officer reciprocated my comment with an almost catlike blankest of blank stares.

“I’ll politely ask you if we can search your house, but it’s only a courtesy inquiry as I have a federal warrant to do so.” he answered smarmily.

“Proceed.” I waved an arm towards my home. 

“If I have received secret documents, it’s a secret that I have stealthily kept from myself.”

Top Secret Documents Raid!

There I was, standing on the beach in San Clemente, thinking that if the Earth was indeed flat, I’d be able to see Japan, when a binoculars-wearing local tourist exclaimed with an expletive that something aloft was amiss. I turned to decipher what he was declaring.

“Balloon! It’s one of those #!&$% balloons that steals what’s ours only! With all we spend on the government, you’d think they could do something about them!”

As I squinted into the vast wide open wild blue yonder, I couldn’t see anything. After letting the aforementioned sky sentry know my eyes were lacking the wherewithal to make out any strange, out of the ordinary shapes, spherical or otherwise, he let me know his opinion by questioning my ability to see.

“Here, take these things,” he said, handing me the binoculars. “Now look up over there about where my finger is.”

I took the field glasses and looked in the direction he was pointing. After a moment of visual adjustment, I could make out a white dot. After relaying my discovery to my new alarmist aide, he regaled me with conspiratorial views of governmental misbehavior.

His proclamations ran the gamut
Everything from: it’s a false flag operation to distract attention from the military industrial complex robbing us blind, to the current president not having the mental acuity of a common house plant, and some foreign entity accomplishing espionage while he wanders the White House aimlessly in his pajamas, or something to that effect.

When I asked if the distant white dot might be an un-moored giant marshmallow advertising drifting boondoggle or an over-sized high school experiment gone awry, he again openly questioned my ability to perceive reality.

After an animated discussion yielding no learning at all by each of us, we endeavored to find common ground by availing ourselves to a local public house to belly up to the bar and imbibe in a few fermented concoctions meant to render us slightly demented.

It was during this time of getting inebriated to the point of befuddlement that the conversation turned to what made up a surveillance contraption. My conversationalist companion held the common belief of conventional information seeking control apparatuses. Ones that fly in space and in our atmosphere.

The point I tried to make was there might be other forms of supervisorial machinery. Ones that had the appearance of what a bird might represent, or a bat or a wombat, perhaps. A familiar creature that wouldn’t raise a second thought at first glance. A computerized cat or a robotic dog. We could use all for security of movement of the unsuspecting sort.

That point raised his hackles
I could tell by the look that flashed in his eyes. Alarm pervaded his countenance, or perhaps, his visage. He slammed down the last bit of his beverage and took action to retrieve a wallet from his rear pocket. Once he laid a few bills on the bar to pay for his libations, he was off with haste and without a word.

Later that evening, there were reports regaling the patrons in the tavern of some maniac popping balloons at a child’s birthday party. The purveyor of pizza chased the purported popper from his parlor.

Then there were tales of a loony chasing pigeons in the park while shouting tropes of violation of our beloved constitution by those that are sworn to uphold it.

And people wonder why these reported occurrences cause unrest.

Malicious Balloons Attack! Mp4

After The Fact Nostradamus

Good Mourning!

Let’s get one thing straight: if someone said in 1977, while choking on cigarette smoke at CBGB, that a guy who looks like he’s been in a tanning booth explosion and sounds like a used car salesman on a bender would be the first punk rock president, he’d a been laughed at so hard that they would’ve coughed up a lung. But here we are, folks, in the year of our lord 2025, and Donald J. Trump—real estate mogul, reality TV star, and guy who tweets like he’s trying to start a bar fight—is somehow the most punk rock commander-in-chief we’ve ever had. I’m not saying it’s good. I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m just saying it’s a thing, and we’re all stuck in this sweaty mosh pit together

A TV Game Show Host Turned D.C. into Mosh Pit

Here’s a goofy story with crazy twist. Grab a caffeinated drink to read and listen to! #StoryThing #ReadItOrElse! 📚😜 #StoryTime 

Vacuum Accumulation Craig Tyson Adams-

Strap in, you delicate followers of logic and reason, for a wild ride to when the CIA battled the Soviet Union armed with nothing but psychic brain waves, a pen, and a government-issued can of Tab. 