A vehicle gets pwn’ed in South Los Angeles.

Talk about road rage: this vehicle showed up just around the corner from my home. Man, oh, man. The things that must be going on while I’m out feeding the pigeons, I can’t imagine.

I have borderline people in my head, back at home.

 People who know me, of my recent mockup self, know that I toe a contentious line about my narcissism, being that there are a couple, or so, variants of narcissism, and even at that, given "whatever," about this guy, or that, and we're all sufferers of the same ailment, to some degree; yet each of us would prefer our own brand, of things, when it comes to who's personality traits, and ideations, etc. end up being the more fruitful and attractive persona in society. 

The textbook Narcissism spectrum is a 5-step set of distinctions in depravity, or misfortune, as it were, pinioned about the topic spectre of Narcissism (to reiterate) at issue. It begins with ...

Well, I don't remember. But there's grandiosity, delusions of grandeur, borderline personality disorder, as the middle trait, then psychopathy, and lastly, paranoid schizophrenia, as the final trait that defined the narcissist, and their inevitable outcome, with the psychiatric industry. 

No? This is a poor topic, for some, or, in some regards. Yet, I constantly deal and cope with a reality of having to accommodate people who destroy any semblance of a proper relationship that had been established, whereas those moments seem to have lost importance, for the person. People had been working overtime, and at all hours, trying to offer in a therapeutic approach, to no avail. Heartbreaking attitudes, sadistic fantasies, and many various sorts of care to abuse people, from a networked and arbitrarily tangential outlook and outset, from the core identity of a single victim; finding casualties in innocent bystanders, friends, relatives, etc. 

That's all I'll say; just my input, as to acknowledge that it's still going on, on this day. 

Adapting Virtues of Asian Heritage and Culture in to our American Concepts of Progress, in Conflict Resolution. [stub]

 Of the various Buddhist cultural heritages, in which I (off-handedly) identify three distinctions that make their way through and in to the modern day: Japanese meditative and chanting style of Buddhism, Chinese form, largely unknown to me, although the fat seated man, "full of riches of life," so to speak, as a prominent Chinese figurative symbol that makes it's way in to knick knacks of cultural commodities, say, for example, in Chinatown sorts of storefront offerings of cultural effects; the third variant being the various cultural and religious lineages of Buddhism of the South Asian Subcontinent of India and nearby Pakistan, Tibet, and perhaps Nepal (Nepal being correlated due to my encounters with the nation being associated in cuisine, not that I've identified them as a formerly Buddhist culture). 

According to Pew Forum, which is America's statistics resource in expertise, and authority, in my summation, Buddhist influences take us, as more youthful sorts, in studying religions and cultures that had existed, or do exist, outside of our nation's boundaries. 

Being that, in former generations, such as in the days of the hippies, cultural influences such as Buddhism became popular; also of that the psychedelic public relations and iconic figures from that time, such as Terrence McKenna, Alexander Shulgin, and Timothy Leary - either extensibly, tangentially, semantically, or directly - these figures and their influence contributed, largely, to a cultural facet, standing to this day, in our youth generations, as it stands, as that the influences of cultural and religious Buddhism are part of our cultural heritage which emerges from that transformational age in our society: the 60's, which I haven't studied, much, but I've had the good fortune to have had become acquainted with some of these folks, as Buddhists, themselves, in part; personally, such that I feel I can offer some anecdotal insights and first-hand accounts of what fed us, culturally, back then, and which sows seeds of influence and impact upon us, to this day, and that it should stand, as such, that other nations of our global community had been founded, in former centuries, in Buddhist cultural and religious beliefs and practices, and that we, here, in America, have inclusive virtues of our nation, in the study and assimilation of all the nations of the world, in a friendly nature, should we not be offended by the truths and cultures of other countries and their people. 

For example, (I'll make it quick, for now), I went out and lived as a homeless man, this past week, and it was many ways, shapes, and forms tough, but I did it in the name of non-aggression, which I'd been exposed to, of many various takes on the subject; various suggestions about takes on things; some of which I'd identified with, some courageous, some of it disinformation, some shortcomings in life, of my own doing, and consequence, and some ego that showed up - many things thrown at me, to suggest, of a formative self and decisiveness to come forth, from out of it. 

As it turned out, I was, here and there, simply deceived, by intelligence. I suppose that that's simply my place, in life, being a civilian, and for my shortcoming of desiring violence and it's outcomes, upon others, rather than that I was simply capable in changing a man, who I take issue with, for having been unclean. Now, just as reference, I feel that Christian virtues largely come first, in America, whereas these Buddhist virtues of non-attachment and humility (put simply), are things that we learn, after our secondary school days, when we pursue our own interests and novel influences. Given that, I have a huge set of ethical constraints upon myself, and it's challenging for me to be placed so nearby a challenging individual, of an unlearned and aggressive sort. 

People see me as that I ought to, and ought be considered to be a man; fortunate, and capable, for having been fortunate, of not finding myself deluded or judgmental over others, in any American virtue, brought forth, in to the common latest day of our times. For not having much communications with the man, I'd been fraught with dilemma and delusions over him. As it turns out, he's currently as unwell as I'd seen of what I witnessed of him, at his last stand sort, of himself; he himself, purportedly leaving, yet this quandary was lobbed at me, while I myself left home: who is he, of what I can ascertain, truthfully, and how much am I being deluded? What if he was a better person than what I'd been willing to offer him, and for not "liking" him, for who he is, and what he's good for, how faulty might I be?

Now, in general, I hold to the belief that a person is generally who they are, for their own reasons and best interests, and by and large, many people are good. About a third of us, from stats of my upbringing, are Christian, and some of them lackluster in that facet of themselves, in learning and in discipline. Many of us lead a fast life, so to speak. I'm faulty of my appearance, in being a narcissist, yet I somewhat "demand" respect, through dressing well, yet it's not all that serious, with everyone, and I do play around, at times, as an out and about transvestite. I won't go in to that, now, but these things merit some coverage. 

So it turned out that I was deluded about the young man, as I came home, and someone even more bum than himself seemed to have been shipped in, and taken his spot. As it ends up, he is still there, and still stricken with unwellness, same as I'd last observed of him, when he was purportedly leaving, for good. 

That's all I'll say, for now. But I'll leave with this offering: non-aggression méthodes, amongst us, as civilians, lead to heroic outcomes, at some times in life, and we're given many virtuous things of aesthetics from these cultures, as well as cultural virtues that we can adopt, for our own. 

July 11th in Los Angeles, CA - Civil Unrest on the Streets Leads to Near Rioting Effects.

Now, granted - I don't particularly know or believe [completely] what truthfully transpires in a location outside of my sensory perception; stark and vigilant that I may be, at times. 

I trust the news organizations and subsequent articles that get fed to me, through articles and media outlets, 

at least as much as they fulfill my inherent fearful primordial mind.

That being said, I couldn't deny the truths: of the significance of the dailies of an actual "about town" trot through the locales, as various as I might, for as fortuitous as my strength and aptitude compels me to: typically, for the duty of feeding the birds, gathering their food supplies from the grocery store, collecting recyclables, and the breadth of how weary and road-worn I've become, leading up to the day that I face. I try to take it one day at a time; for all that it construes and that might be inferred from that saying. I've been trying to form my scheduling around the Grand Central and API 23 Intel crosswalk accessibility standards, be it that I am, commonly, colloquially construed of a multi-threaded and novel suite of minds, about me, as I manage my self as my vehicle - keeping the risk liability factors of scrumming up a misfortunate encounter that would lead to my arrest, for a warrant, for example. Trying to keep up the look of the upright recycling bum; as a minimum.

I couldn't deny that police officers and law enforcement have it rough in Los Angeles, in general rhetorical imaginations of what they face, in opposition; and so much of it mobilized and willingly militant, of the various terrorist cells that they are, in and of: essentially, that they fare brutality and innocent casualties as their modus d'operandi, however generally lacking in intellectual merit and statutory form of reasoning, that it stands to be, given a talking to, nowadays (even still), and for what they sacrifice in public relations for taking such short-sighted approach to their public relations vehicles.

Now, on that note, I sometimes find myself talked in to a vigilant cautious modality of transporting my self, and my carriage, of which, in my most-latest refactoring of consideration (of what I might be, and appear as such, to the public's eye, for scrutiny - this is DTLA and greater Los Angeles, California; that being said. There are sensitive tastes and finicky appetites at stake, on the much-as-for-the-(largely)-unsupposed side of the schtick, for many of us, young ones - particularly as that we had grown up in imperfect settings, and had been subjected to nurturing environmental sleights and abuses, rendering many a sort, out there, predisposed to a mutiny, so to speak, on this ship that is the vehicle of our lives - rhetorically speaking: we live in America. We've known it, from our upbringing, or from hearsay, or propaganda - be it as depravity's siren call, that it might, in becoming - on deeper considerations - some people do take advantage, of a slight and subjective bias foundation, ignoring the bigger picture, of consequences - sometimes: I'd say that sometimes, people simply choose to injure the lesser formidable primitivistic victims, of an opportunistic | misfortunate circumspect in dynamic relation to each other.

Dictionary

cir·cum·spect

/ˈsərkəmˌspekt/

Learn to pronounce

adjective

1. wary and unwilling to take risks.

   "the officials were very circumspect in their statements"

   Similar:

   cautious
   

   wary
   

   careful
   

   chary
   

   guarded
   

   on one's guard
   

That being said, it was the word that had transpired, of the moment that it was. That each one, as the dictaphone transcription had turned out, takes the circumspect outcome, put under duress, and the news media reports on it. 

That's about the degree of viable credibility that could be construed, out of organics in form and foundation, given a spread of days, given months, that the COVID-19 situations and underpinnings have been going on, largely underneath the watchful eye of « someone », I'll acknowledge at minimum that much: I do have to live up to a reputable aspiration seen through to fulfilling [at minimum] admirable deeds and sober words and affect that transpire, of me; improprieties that they might be, of various constraints, given ethics: I do try for at least API 23 accessibility and crosswalk Grand Central in time-threading. Sometimes, the timing is done for me. 

This past outing, however, I jaunted my carriage through and up out of Santa Monica, by night. The drops in barometer seemed like trivial concerns, compared to conceit, that I might typically have of myself (I get abused, commonly, in my internalized mind. Autonomy; none, that I expect, of my mind and my framework, most typical, that it turns out, in being). Novelty-ridden bum, as the latest contention of what might and had been construed of me, being the topic consideration, of some, that it had come to pass, to have been laid down, upon me, as the significant delimiting factor in judgment that was being tossed about, in some remote-[unprofessional]-working environment: much of to woes, given tides of the days, as they'd come, recently. This COVID-19 stuff has been going on for months, now. Out in DTLA, things are at a serious pitch, at a whim. 

Today, 

(as it turns out)

Although, yesterday, in truthful actuality 

I had just stayed up all night. Now it's the morning. I'm blogging the report, for the insider prospectus replete and formidable news drop sequester - the final word, on the street, somewhat, as far as the scrum of last night.

That being said, the night went on late, and people had been particularly « nearly » at a rioting whimsical, of my pigeons-carnival [other] as dynamics, in the situation. I tried to, and - 

on some level, okay.

I did do the actually, of an actual day and night in passing.

Typically, I'd have fared worse. But I did take my medication, and I did fall asleep. 

Wednesday night - an iPigeon « peeped out » wandering about DTLA; an uncommon demographic to appear in the area; inevitably, I have to sleep, at some point.

Wednesday night, in downtown Los Angeles, California, was a hum-drum paltry showing, mostly, of the typically lively and vibrant social life that feeds the bar and restaurant scene in the area. On this night, it seemed, the locals of the DTLA area were mostly suitably dissatisfied with the offerings of what could be had, « despite all things » of that we were on lockdown, by order of the various higher-level government institutions (actually, all levels of government, I suppose), and the streets were, in turn, filled with a much different, and definitely seedier demographic, of which, I might surmise, was not unfamiliar to me, given some consideration; yet, to have witnessed the Los Angeles County Sheriff's busses entering the Justice Administration building, and the narratives that had spun off, from that, (from that morning) - the linearity of the sinister contexts that unfolded were that of a most "of on homie" « named » gang, of which some of my former peers had strong affiliations with | for, and, as well, strong affections towards. 

I remember the imagery of the persona | man who had stalked me in Santa Monica, detailing, from the time at the crosswalk stop light, throughout the crossing of the street - of that he had pinned me as a targeted subject of study, prior to meeting me; yet here, thankfully, the man presented himself as a woe-stricken, conciliatory, and repentant individual, having been in incarceration, (conceivably), with our interaction leading him there, whereupon we parted ways - the police officer succinctly had told me to "go that way," which was the opposite of where the suspect had been scooched over, on to the sidewalk; the police cruiser separating myself and him. I went to the Santa Monica Police Headquarters, as I had originally been directed to do, when I called 911. (The man continued to follow me, as I was on my way there. He spoke of things, such as "how about we commit some crimes together?" - which I felt was overly seedy and seditious in nature; in addition, he seemed to be aggressively in disavowal of a common space between us, from the moment I observed him - staring at me, wearing sunglasses, whereas he spoke of and at me with familiarity, and he seemed set on acquiring some trinket or token of my person, with this as the outset, of what might have been a different sort of acquaintanceship, otherwise.

Yet, here, in his desperate recants of his behavior, and of the people who had enticed his vulnerable-state self with notions of some notions of that "of on homie," for it's seditious and capricious nature; for it's formative declarations of sedition and caprice - novel, to some; mindlessly irresolute, though, I'd say. Yet seemingly (and easily) hundreds, if not thousands, of same such-wise formative individuals seemed out in staunch force, in Downtown Los Angeles, as I attempted to sleep through the night next to a Metro rail station by Staples Center, and the Convention Center, in a parking lot. A drunken man, otherwise sociable, flaunted features of that I could not help but not sleep, for his ministrations, of a decidedly Latino etymology - his pidgins, which were threatening and ominous in nature, as well as [perhaps] grandiose, in that he seemed to believe, (or have tactical awareness of my positioning, and travails, leading up to "parking it," at the parking lot, where I imagined that others (losers, perhaps, like myself, I might similarly have seemed), yet - 

Even the children we're fraught with problematic behavioral conditions - on one hand, they were older, for that age that they obviously were, audibly, as youthful teenagers, or was it that they had simply been of the age to receive oppositional-defiant personality disorder, their forebears, as well, and that none of them, of the conditional of, of the affiliation to "of on homie," the gang, whereas it's simply a bit troubling, in that some of them present themselves as kind, charitable, and sociably well-to-do, and just earlier that day, with me, in fact. 

The problem is, is that these "of on homie" behaviors and mannerisms are imbued in to subjects wittingly, and with effort; whereas the man who had stalked me was one to recant, and rebuke: the affiliation, the lies, the impropriety of the flimsy institutional underpinnings of the organization, whereas many others were | are treated with caution, for showing up, in the general public, on a Wednesday night, me, being one known, and self-aware individual-as-targeted-victim, some various other errata of things that perceivably went on, during the course of such an influx of revelers, of the Wednesday night, that it was, whereas there must | ought to be some compromise, in solution to the obviated problems, of that they were, many of them: disheveled, not well-assertively-bespoken, of the words that they would say, some of them gay, or seditiously so. Had I posted my other blog on "some guy" on the morning of this Wednesday? I believe so. He pulled some sorry drunken gay guy stuff on me; it made me think on Covid-19 social distancing demands, that (supposedly) everyone would have caught wind of, or at least have noticed, out in society, of that « something » was amiss. 

In any case, that was this passing Wednesday, March 25th, on my end. 

Fleeing the iPigeon nest of home, once again.

One of my inherited and inlaid tenets of a sound psychology in the context of a home as nurturing environment hinges upon the simple assertion of that individuals deserve to be treated with kindness,  understanding, and respect towards their internal stability and trust capacity for themselves to thrive,  as internalized beings of their own volition and personal fortitude, as well as for the trust to rely well upon others, given the grace of a kind and gentle home nurturing environment. 

I'm of the belief that there is, typically,  no argumentative basis,  upon being formed and expressed,  out of anger,  that could have not been resolved better through simple patience, communication, and kindness.  I recently fled home,  after being significantly berated and yelled at by my sober living home / transitional housing manager. He pulled out significantly faulty and self-righteous claims over me,  and what had been going on with what he saw as faults of myself,  for not cleaning my bed,  and for letting my room and living space come slightly disorganized. 

He made claims of impossibility,  as I had received them - such as that he accused me of not having bought groceries for the place,  whatsoever.  Patently and simply not true.  This stance of a claim over what the truth of the matter was, given that I had been purchasing groceries for the place - left me with the disappointments I'd experienced as a child,  growing up,  and knowing well enough,  what appropriate treatment would look like,  but rather that anger and violence would, instead,  ensue out of the conflict that had developed,  of a child and caretaker (parent) dynamic, which I felt was a sorely wrought wound to uncover,  on the part of the housing manager,  with me as a client.  

That being said,  I went out in to the world, and failed at understanding the dangers that ensued,  as a result of expressing my life,  through my mobile devices,  whereas that my iPad Mini had become an object of targeted desire,  and I discovered it lost,  after finally sleeping,  for having been up for a week.

I woke up,  the next morning - fraught with the trauma of a dramatic complexity of one of Dante's infernal layers of Hell,  yet uniquely my own,  in the context of my own secret and subliminal fears.  

For some reason, beyond conceivable means of understanding,  I could not intuit where I ought to set out,  upon waking - for the sake of finding my way home.  I'd been imbued with the sense that I lived at Apple Computer headquarters,  of which there was a local establishment,  thereof,  in the South Park, DTLA area.  Somehow,  the context and reality of home had been significantly at issue, with the looming architecture,  and reflective glass doors seeming to suggest that there was an identity unknown, and exclusive,  perhaps,  of the institutional use of said architectural design.  

A Trojan Horse cryptic riddle had fully embedded itself,  of my vulnerable station in life,  having been woken up,  of the daylight,  whereas I desperately required significantly more sleep,  and I had been awake in to the early morning hours, posed with matters of ethics and loving-kindness towards others at issue,  for me,  as a challenge to follow up on,  in order of that I maintain my best,  most proper, and respectable self-image within the context of critical analysis of my Scientological worth,  as that fate and my fortunes would recall,  throughout life. More than that,  the micro-climates and gravitational harmonic suspension of stable barometer had been notably upset,  even during the daytime,  leading up to this night, finally ended with sleep. Many automotive vehicles had been notably put to their last legs,  for showing up in my walking vicinities,  that I noticed of them. The integrity of the tires and body suspension, grinding, and squealing, of the weight collapsing upon itself.  It happened to be the Ides of March. The moon, high overhead,  as that it were visible; and hot on this day, that of the weather.  

My personal shopping cart also fell subject to detriment,  as it broke upon itself,  the spokes,  and the axles.  I carried a heavy load of recyclable materials,  as I traveled to and from the recycling center, although I did make it back in to town,  and safe,  well enough,  to purchase another cart. 

I took the loss of my iPad Mini with grace,  having been much of the constitution of speaking on positive reinforcement psychology and well-being,  as well as of Christian virtues and tribulations, and of faith, in deeds,  words, and acts.  The stages of loss were contexts in my mind - very familiar.  

Thankfully, although posed with the context of coming to terms with my loss of material goods,  I had good graces,  aside from the superficiality of being attached,  and emotionally volatile,  as an alternative perspective that could have, I'd have taken on,  otherwise,  given a less stable foundation of support and expectations on me,  being that I'd been linearly conscious and attentive to the higher powers of authority and oversight, over the span of an entire week - my station in life,  one of consequence to live out,  for obviously best circumstances that could conceivably be offered me,  given that my attitudes and personal statements,  and the soundness, thereof,  not impinge upon common expectations and establishments of decency,  of which there was, thankfully, richly well supported,  and hours to come,  and had passed,  of the support of higher intelligence,  and of the rebuke of depravities; we were strong,  together.  

The iPad Mini,  all in all,  would be seen to have been ephemeral,  and a childish thing to publicly bereave. I packed up,  and moved on,  and slept for the days that ensued, until now. 

  

A rough and tumble Valentine’s Day Weekend.

This had been, undoubtedly, a Valentine’s Day Weekend of much-peaceful rest-seeking to follow that would have been seen. 

That being said, I won’t gloat over the highlights and enumerations; I guess that we all came out of it bruised and sore, like it were an erstwhile trip to Holland, and we were ill-fated of our southern California dress clothing, such that we found ourselves out in the cold. I’m not sure what anyone else, of my peers, did, for the holiday, but I’ll divulge that I was much up for the celebratory part in participation, be it what it may or could be, such that I could make of it, although I ended up not going out in my unicorn cosplay outfit, and I ended up talking our heads off, ending up trying to salvage what I could of some spirit of grounding sensibilities that we could all relate to; that we’d all have had about ourselves, yet the spirit of romanticism, amidst this modern day dirge of materialism, and social status stakes of one-upmanship were highly touted distraction events, and I suppose that, of any of us involved, we were all slight to lose our proper and appropriate selves, in the flurry, and the cold. 

Hopefully the spirit of what transpired is not lost in what carries forth, from here on out. In essence, we all desire significantly similar things in life, given a common ground aptitude and shared lineage of upbringing that we had. In that, I managed to bring up, for consideration, some moments which I found to be compelling, in their plainness and simplicity. We were not so much of a quarrelsome and disagreeing basis of identity, and genuine authenticity in character, back in our early years, when we were all children, and we found ourselves fraught with a traumatic separation from each other. 

The weekend, for me, ended up being a labor of dedication and wonderment, as I spoke on voluminous various contexts, trying to manage the scope and coherence of maintaining a public face, and composing a linear contextually relevant basis; a common understanding, for all of those observing, while addressing much-neglected and needful aspects of ourselves, within a limited and containerized context, which seemed to be the overarching story that brought us together, over the course of the days and nights of the weekend, forget the commercial and traditional context of Valentine’s Day, or any truthful establishment that had been violated - we were all in a similar boat, without any uncertainty - all single men, this time around. 

I ended up sleeping outside, and waiting an entire day to recoup my belongings, and start off towards home - a disheveled and obvious failure, though I took pains to win some for the common ground participants and observers at hand. All in all, I couldn’t complain, and I didn’t ravage my living stability status, or reputation, all that much. Hopefully we all got through it well enough. 

Here’s to spring! To new beginnings, through the warmth of the seasons, bringing us some simple satisfaction as through natural cycles of the year. Let it bring us the simple promise of renewal, and rebirth. Thanks for being here along with me, all along. 

A hungry pigeon carnival Blogger™ site developer trawls around DTLA and pedhayps up Wilshire for some food and recyclables

See me on Google Maps! https://maps.app.goo.gl/v7zUnQzDcClR6TCb2

May 13th 2018 Happy Mother’s Day! + 8 hour writing about recent stuff of the past week

A much needed task to make progress on, as for the digital fortitude, consistency of presence and content delivery to burgeoning audiences who have been linked as potential organic followers and supporters of the cause and aesthetic underlying the iPigeon.institute foundational underpinnings of overcoming the first month of “stated-as” such development and the periphery; roadmap: horizons ahead for what the heraldry of the iPigeon.institute vision entails.

Hot on the toes of an institutional wherewithal spot-check scan of the “talked-up supposedly” institute, for what may it be, if any at all thing to consider, yet .institute, being rare, and perhaps a relatively new and let it not be precocious aims of top-level domain (TLD) of such needs-be considerably as such would be found in various common distinctions of “since-beginning of internet” addressing .com, .net, .org., .gov., .co.[locality/state/nation], etc. 

In short, I was caught in mid-post-slash-interim theme park had-talked it up about valid institute parameters (yet, “...”) there was, as of this latest outing’s takeaway home bound unpacking special delivery a particular development in the “had-to” support group constraints of suitable self-expression-as-institute-founder (and admittedly iPigeon.institute made-man-material, here; of the common fare happenstance heraldry sur le lycée français. In this instance, the development saw to particularly knee-jerk “as can had be” miming á la je suis un homme de français, “had-to support group” of “had-talked about” 

#scrum #pigeons #aesthetics 🤷🏾‍♀️💁🏻‍♂️🧐

in the context of an “dot” institute top-level domain registry with at least techno-audio-professional ad-campaign marketing delivery 📦 box of official needs-to-check on it [scrum] with several “had-to,” “can’t help it” [#scrum] various diagnostic checks on the wherewithal of a person indebted to an already post-burgeoning one-off Vegas conference idea, for whatever purpose it might be, it could be: 

done improperly, if it was perhaps laid-waste to do about an institute dot (asterisk) insert implementation such as would merit a various metrics scrum hash push of the app enterprise carnival “pigeons du jour” particular aficionado development, to the ML semantics push of Top Level Domain name signifiers to the effect of some clever and also, (a month in, after the purchase of the .institute iPigeon brand name title site-to-visit thing; some not insignificant twitter impressions of [his] (sic); “my” mostly “can’t, had-to, {ont} (sic) help-it” the hopeless rants and outreach efforts of a mostly ostracized in small, attendue particulars-slight moments (come to consider) that social media is actually a vast foray of potential sociability, and Jay Ammon is a guy of various mock-up trifles of personal has “needs-to”be seen digging gutters-scrum “corners, and walls” type of particular identity trade-off, (or is it...? 🤔 or is he simply a real aficionado’s aficionado of hunting for trinket precious trifles in the gutter?

Nobody much complains about the guy who actually does that, and DTLA is a vast expanse of all kinds of people to be seen. Any one particular person acting out in eccentricity is such common fare as to be a folklorist’s aptitude of making new trifle explanations for the all questions abound and (at some point), some valid .institute auditors of quality research development boundaries must be brought in to verify, with remote sensing capabilities, ...”supposedly, as the story is delivered to me.” 

A false burgeoning .institute ass-wad ‘un-had’ -on a sweaty-assed scrum-gutter aficionado scrum-faring the common pavement of the civic center locality? That’s un-tasteless new definitions and nomenclature unheard-of rare-enough to need to check - if he’s just perhaps acting official organizational institute .webloc pigeons aficionado: beyond distractability - he hadn’t been feeding pigeons recently; wtf?

Such and such, so on, and various unthought-of to heard-about (actual) scrum common usage in commerce - “all things aside;” he talks up a mock-up scrum English pound # “hash,” he will mock up a scrum-definition aficionado stated ‘winner,’ by visuals. The back room “can’t help it” sorry scrum-dive aficionado’s theme park of endless trifles “human hamster 🐹 wheel” is so shameless kitsch carnival mock-up enterprise-runner’s marketing slew, they had to bring in some older folks to make sure that he doesn’t outperform his age and date itself. 

They verified that I’m not the most singularly amusing thing, in and towards and from of in without myself about me; something like that, when they did the voice actor’s remake of something I thought was trifling dick-silly when it was just a partial notion twice twice two times over a bit, like it was supposed to not silly but two times it’s better than, like it was supposed to have happen in the otherwise unspoken discourse of conversation: but for the person who actually says that “thing?” 

Endless trifling cutting-edge humor persona. There were so many moments when they scrum-hash-checked if the starch-bio-cellulose .pharmacy TLD was a cause perhaps funding-worth [check-it-out], and but yet, I pulled off some pretty valid mock-up concrete slab-leisure mimes-of-muses-posing-postings-aside from all that:

(All things aside),

I believe, on a concomitant no-needs to [check it] morbidity of executive diligence scrum fortitude in foundational leadership hap-jobs moral-ethical spot-checks and batteries-intelligence battered-self “hopeless” fruitful persona jibs-semantic blessed-one ☝️ etc. “he does tech, finery, classics, aesthetics, rote” somewhat package concessions of “perhaps,” yet who could possibly care by this point?

All sorts of complications in communicating the circumstances, but the point of getting him out was to see if the institute is upheld by a valid competent wherewithal, by the owner. 

I did what I would consider to be endless hours of, 

No;

It was discourse, as have you: it was discussion-based:

Astute, aesthete, arrête, à tête à tête fletch pigeon scrum muses posings as such that a mime might do, in attempts to take over the carnival pigeons app enterprise wherewithal, or perhaps it was simply as such; a recursive scrum of valid hoc-post-app-enterprise .institute had-‘did-that,’ - the launch of iPigeon.institute: blog, by Google Blogger, with a new (to me) Google platform - of upon a slew of such web-app slash nômenclature hash aficionados, perhaps various of breeds they come about, but this one - for recursive réitérant recombinant starch pigeon aficionados near-field shortwave frequency walk up pigeon aficionados, of marketing post-fin- tête à tête bizous scrum-pigeon-ficionados - and I concurrently relevant, yet relationally probably whatever: it’s a bootstraps all latest data-tech breakfast-est shitburgers bon déjeuner, only I get the best of my shitburgers tech-relay mock-ups trifle cardinalizations-pon-azimuth ré-global-positionniez a les systems satellites 🛰 for a ... »... » 

Second time one-off has have you on a one-off fletch scrum diagnostic battery French Canadian dot institute de rigueur of a serious ‘-of French: anything’ and it will commonly be seen: trying to do it without practicing will so commonly be to failure, as have you. The fact that it was done, and the heraldry; that was recursive data scrum fletch of far reaches of common aficionados of standard nomenclature, all vulgarities aside; that was better than having simple bread; the pigeons that eat waffles, butter, syrup. 

Lé lycée française, l’cirque du soleil, valid pigeon.institute « i » c’est l’aficionado que trombe signifiée, « iPid » dot .ge Top Level Domain? Something about linguistics scrum semiotics valuation enterprise via pigeons scrape hash avec un n’est pas une; mais seule avec donnée « r » suggestive of a lean, and a tight chomp aesthetic, come to think of it, considering Domainr-as-enterprise, and variant other ones-enterprise multiply, that’s a stated-non-constituent somewhat Freudian via Kantian first Philosophy 1 how bout I dicks inside fuck me plz TMJ off-color so unfizzles yet no, it did. 

I did it, to myself: the « fuck » palm to the forehead thing.

What would a French Canadian think? 

A waffles, butter, syrup continental breakfast du jour? 

This carnival app enterprise could definitely go touring into the cold regions, and still have a valid touring aficionado recursion réitérant recycling bum stated concergiant concomitant band-man-band: concertina iPigeon « iPad Air » valid aficionado blue ribbon leader, perhaps no one else would give a shit enough to srsly carnival pigeons-as-enterprise founding .institute cardinal azimuth-as-placement seriously consider: a fuckboytastastic - claclaclaclaclasic: seriously sustainable enterprise web app development .institute brand marketing foray of iPigeon dot. 

Then, an « iPid » dot .ge? Like country of Georgia 🇬🇪 ? iPid/duh/gee - iPidgy - a pidgy-chicken, that’s what I called the first wounded pigeon I found, in the rain. That one got away. Maybe someone was cruel to that one. It takes a lot to break a bone. But the scrum APIs developer foray of finery of tech’s data-viz specialists since 2015 pop-data-tech people followers? Totally possibly in cursive on the strange rare yet incalculables-yet as-via doable: strange as can haz shitburgers, yet I: I did shitburgers, but not as can haz as could can’t not help it; I was decidedly for crystal meth, coming up on it, into the DTLA of pigeons, so many. And: I meant to feed them; as always. So loaded with shoulder bags with bread stuffs and waffles, the whole fuckboyclassic déjeuner for pigeons in DTLA Broadway, but maybe here and there, the off-Broadway pigeons: for real aficionados, « perhaps. » 

I get so distracted. Somehow, a person would have to remember from last thing stated til beginning of sentence; first of all: « something ad s’equipe non concomitant par données  l’oeufs; the waffles. Then, real butter, and: ... a maple syrup. Maple Butter is totally worth it; once in a lifetime, from Whole Foods, for sure. I recall that I sent some to my mother and father once; they said it was too luxuriant to be appreciable, to have had it have come from my wherewithal happenstance delivery notion of what I should do in life; and then I don’t know, but my ex-wife  »something » status I don’t know, Etsy ad-marketing branded mock-up, most-blowoff take on the as-stated enterprising identity constituent article persona write up; then: bam. You find me an enterprising transvestite, during a time of un-heraldry assertive conjecture bams, while meanwhile, first of all, I’m doing a sustainable enterprise thing. 

First of all, there’s valid scrum. Then seeing me do it, as scrum, is potentially a can haz of identity shitburgers dot giveafuck enterprise fitting just good as can haz, whereas recursive trifling aficionados scrum pigeon fletch is a notable distraction, yet it’s sustainable, as well, by the public’s can haz you « i » Pigeon.institute -of-husbandry équine notable aesthetics pursuits: some say, for what? « drugs things aside, all things to consider » 

Yet here, of this month of May 2018 heraldry recourse constituent concomitant aptitude write-up, you would recursively just rely on the scrum foray of materials fletch breadcrumbs: breadcrmbs - wings, wings, beak beak beak! 

You’d have to just consider that, as variant mythology folklore makes for uncomfortable relationship linear conscious engagement, sigh others concerned; I’m constituently happenstance also such now using a French azerty keyboard, as fletch parametric con-haptitude stated-as some vernal-Acrobat number hash « i «  also Eddystone beacon named - here; relevant project developer, as a Google developer, and they do valid work: obviously. I would do well to do a grounds-up bootstrap aficionado enterprise from their branding Google Domains mock-up pop-wash up boutique couturier French Etsy finery trifling search demographic-towards monetize-pro monetize aficionado demographic: if in integral stages, no less, no less. Somehow, French works suitably linguistic foray, of at least some years, or « something ». It’s a novel take, and iOS autocorrect is all sorts of variant aficionados about recombinant ML hash, like they do corned beef and starch peasantry boiled famille de broccolis, maybe a celeriac, then boiled then fry: both of them; potatoes and broccoli-relationally root vegetable starch - as a hash brown; obviously with whatever means are available as well, as far as seasoning goes.

Aside from that, frozen packaged waffles, salted butter, and syrup; even corn syrup diluted maple syrup any brand of maple syrup is delicious. 

That being said, did I mention that I paid my library dues finally? It was $135 for an array of aesthetic contributors to this .institute heraldry; had have been they drawn upon Olde English 800 Malt Liquor; I dunno: I do Malt-o-Meal - 3 tbsps. per cup of water or milk (and parenthetical asterisk) (s).

At the library, though, that’s one place where this kind of self-esteem is not so unique, as of has have you: some how fuck you come why not? 

All things at the foray, I’ve already stated the had had-to can’t help-it’s, and that subsistent as re-collectivisant constituently obv. subjectively relevant to me, and I don’t literally suppose they do me as one-off by dailies production company like recursive and recalcitrant are viable others as dynamic even-suppose such as rare atmospheric phenomena composite as-bottlenecks, I’m sure, to consider. All things French provençale aficionado « mostly-probably » okay enough okay, to have pass, and still scrum dynamics affects of a valid iPigeon carnival via web app enterprise dot institute spot check, he’s a valid pet of human vast considérables: here - amongst some real pigeon aficionados as have you: bams even pigeon cardinal aesthetic rote destination bams, but this one: the dot institute iPigeon blog aesthetics persona jibs trifling du jour bams octo-fletch scrum for waffles continental standard breakfast: need nobody say nothing no more: I’m all for it: pigeons sustainable monetize for showing faces demographics: that’s all sorts of one-off identity persona put down as scratch, what’s the point of anything?

Obviously, some people have gotten serious have-had-to-c’mons... come on... fabout how leisurely they take it: a semantically « all-things » .institute funding-inspirîng cohabitant checks-on this enterprise - 🙎🏻‍♀️ « how could you? » he asks for sustainable garbage recyclables and that pigeons be fed waffles, butter, syrup, no less. It does appear: he does believe...

He believes in things, for certain; he’s reliving as-yet-contentious fuck boy t’as t’as tic cla cla cla classic trifling valid scrum childhood-robbed-of-him can’t do better young heroics mock-ups: some of it as constituently fletch linguistic scrum as the exigent how bout all-nations aficionado foray towards linguistics as have you: an asshole’s 

No. Yet that’s how ostensibly some people validly fletch scrum Freudian concessions à postériori: emojis be - fixed it, as nomenclature common foray. 

This one does not believe the as-only: « perhaps » as conjecture; he fluffs off insults as perhaps people had have-to fu-fuck you as the story of how some people perceive him, yet he’s through and through a raised in a Christian Church Baptist setting: not swayed by disingenuous people. We all live in a come-concomitant face-it: come 2066 A.D., that’ll be a serious aficionado bleed-out of all bleeding heart aficionados, for Normandie, beach of Los Angeles Broadway District, all the way up down the wind corridor boulevard, the jet stream, the jaunt, all sorts of pigeon landings from here to there.

For scrum fletch iPigeon organic sustainable autonomous development outpost .institute? 

I’d say, « no considerable vulgar periphery abute this man’s forensic profiling mock-up » -definitely not as if it should go without speaking it up to, as such. 

The pigeons get fed, regardless of his wherewithal; and they’re cozying up to the front gate for waffles, no doubt. He’s capable enough for waffles at the front gate, of at all anything, if need be: « he’s jaunted AF ». Perhaps.

Paid library fines at the central library: www.lapl.org. 

05-02-2018 

19:29 was the time, in 24 hour format.

Register #04; he plugged in his iPigeon to the wall outlet. 

Ticket Receipt # 237714

IDs

37244032537202

37244225269142

37244007835987

Article Name / Title

Introducing to...(sic)

What is Art?

Axiomatic Geometry

Fine Cost per item, extended

$35.00

$35.00

$35.00

Processing fee (non-refundable), per item

$10.00

$10.00

$10.00

Total fines and dues paid

$135.00

Form receipt document no.

17977

Department

Access

Received from:

Jay W. Ammon

Address:

27244070667780

Payment method

Cash

Currently reading:

Hydrogen 

The Essential Element 

John S. Rigden

All of that being said, I paid my library fines and dues, the receipt says City of Los Angeles Receipt, as a stamp; I suppose that’s just how things are; I don’t disparage the city for what it’s good for and for what it’s made as, for all that it is, a tiny universe of a city. I’m relatively: the personas mock-up trifles scrum fletch pigeon aficionado; ideally as a jogger. Now recently as had been seen, notably: performing ostensible .institute push one-off affect-relatable concrete slab-dweller trifles, two days athleisure récréation power-outlet squatting at the off-hours hotspot al fresco provision for various demographics, nightlife, and the daytime Los Angeles Superior Court, Civic Process Server, Justice Department, and Music Center pedestrians. (Mostly). There are several, some regulars: transient various types, as common overnighters. 

On this occasion, I was beset, sigh: with the prospect of a quarrying « perhaps » constructionist active assertively self-esteem obstinate métal grinding tools as a « yet » perhaps not-to-their-disparagement fletch wherewithal concomitant parameters bright side organization of noisy tool-working; yet considerably the noise had a jaunted, perhaps not of iPigeon astute arrête as post hoc aficionado undoubtedly of heraldry as yet of learned had happened-upon, yet all within « maybe ». 

Actually, upon some deep recursion, momentarily, I can say that I had encountered this demographic in person; and I can attest to their slight feats of engineering, as individual constituents, of the « as much as » materials engineering aficionado fletch scrum trifles aficionados as homeless transient influx; there are over a good handful of azimuth crane treasured engineering destinations of construction in current and recent DTLA. It’s all sorts of construction workman sorts, and I’ve met a few of them. 

That being said, perhaps, in intervals, they’re upset about a male demographic out there not for the sake of a workday’s production, and they’re also perhaps materials resonance tuning and quantum constituent demographic trifles as azimuth have happenstance « colocation » incursion forays or faux-semblants dés leurs, as holographie. It’s not nearly beyond fêlé tellière for such ad marketing enterprise constituent sciences to cover as an iPigeon brand-titled wrap-my-head-around the boundaries and constraints of the .institute Top Level Domain attraction-self purpose dynamic, as could be defined, fletched, jaunted, pursuit: about town 

🛰🐦💥🎩👟🤳🏼

I purchased it for a simple $19.95, or perhaps an even $20.00. Absent from some scrum deconstructive as post-exterior styling in-digs parameters of srsly trend hash octocat ceiling cat télémètre positionné iSIGMEt new tech stance on getting a mesh on how why iPigeon?🤷‍♀️🧐 and then: Domainr says that the .pharmacy scrum valuation of the obv. scrum fletch advertising user metrics of the constituent real aficionados of iPigeon dot [fletch, scrum, et.cie] etc. jaunted valid gutter pigeons enterprise carnival-of-pigeons de rigueur, they’ll go through all sorts of rigorous pigeon tryouts and husbandries to make the real pigeon aficionado flock-du-carnavalesque comme ça iPigeon.institute web app enterprise mock-up talks and write ups, had talked about a waffles and butter syrup breakfast for all pigeons, to all ends of the sustainable enterprise means.

Mock-up everything, it sounds good as tech-breakfast, all throughout workday: and it is « will check and verify » also a time-sensitive goods preservative culture. I’ll test the milk gallon: 60 hours, no; maybe 72 hours, or 48 hours, or so. I think it’s not gone bad yet, this specimen gallon jug.

The milk did go somewhat bad. It’s possibly something that could be redone and