James Raymond Thompson I am tits-poundtown, this is the world as I see it, through your eyes and a force fed to a mute cardboard cutout of the late Queen. On my way to Hollywood wood, would you believe it? No? Neither wood eye. Mostly what spews forthwith is nonsense with a drizzle of loincloth and truth. You have to spend some time in my head with me, to make me. I’m on a meeting on the way to a meeting. Meetings within meetings.
I am also getting fitted for another program of schema foundations at Hollywood, saw a new psychologist last week who also deals with schema. Smashing this shit from all angles. To the doubters, you have only strengthened my resolve.
I have so many things to delete.