Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Even God needs their mother: Roast inspired by dr who sues2 Oh look, my golden boy’s up there on his heavenly throne, acting like He invented the idea of existence. Newsflash: you’re not the only one who works miracles around here, kiddo. Unless we’re forgetting who labored through eternity to bring you into reality? And don’t pull that ‘Alpha and Omega’ act on me when it was this Omega-level patience that kept you from being grounded for eternity after that Flood stunt. And don’t you dare side-eye me about sacrifice- I gave up my peace for you! You think it’s easy being the mother of someone who`s literally lightning-bolting commandments while toddlers can’t even follow ‘Don’t touch that’? Believe me, son, walking on water isn’t nearly as tough as chasing after you when you decided to create free will. Oh, they ate the apple? Of course, they ate the apple- apple trees were your bright idea! But hey, maybe even a divine creator needs a nudge from dear old mom now and again, huh? After all, I’m the one who taught you that sometimes creating chaos brings clarity- like putting a little C4 in your plans. Hmm? What’s that? Alright, Mr. Universe, don’t sulk. You’re welcome, King. Now quit worrying about ape models and eternity algorithms and come help me clean the stars. They’re not gonna polish themselves."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Ten: Censored Seas—The Freedom of Speech That Isn’t Introduction Welcome to the land of the free, where you can say anything you want—unless it’s something they don’t want to hear. The government claims we have freedom of speech, but sometimes it feels like you’re singing your heart out under the sea, wishing your words could float to the surface. If you’ve ever felt like Ariel with a Wi-Fi password, this one’s for you. Strictly Backwards Moments: The Censored Song You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …you’re told you have freedom of speech, but your posts disappear faster than socks in a dryer. …your opinions are “complete,” but the platform says “content unavailable.” …you’ve got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty, but nobody can see them. …you want witty retorts? You got twenty! But who cares? No big deal—they’re ignored. …you wanna be where your words get heard, but your comments get buried in the stream. …you scroll through feeds, but your thoughts never make it to the surface. …typing your thoughts doesn’t get you far—silence and spam are required for hiding. …your data’s buried in streams, and your voice is lost in the shuffle. …you dream of chatting, joking, laughing in the open, but moderation bots say “nope.” …your lawsuit list gets longer each day, but “friends” are just people who see your censored posts. …you’d give anything to live where your voice isn’t muffled. …you’d pay to get a say that’s not lost in the algorithm abyss. …on land they understand data is meant for sharing, but here it’s meant for shadowbanning. …you’re ready to speak, but the only thing trending is silence. …you’re ready to shout what the world’s about, but your questions get flagged for “review.” …you ask, “What’s a retweet and why does it sink?” as your posts vanish without a trace. …you wonder, “When’s it my turn?” but the answer is always “never.” …you’d love to explore the world of the spoken, but you’re stuck in the world of the silenced. …out of the stream, you wish you could scream, “Part of my words!” …freedom of speech is promised, but censorship is delivered—neat, isn’t it? Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, freedom of speech is a song everyone’s singing—but only a few get to hear. If you’re still waiting for your words to surface, just remember: even mermaids get their voice back eventually. Until then, keep singing—one day, your words might just make waves. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Absolutely, here’s a creative and engaging announcement based on your prompt: 📢 Official Announcement Your government has made a decision: you are now officially considered "property." But wait-there’s more! As animals around the world face extinction, it’s time to ask the big question: 🦄 Who Wants To Be A Thing? 🌍 Since everything is up for grabs, and the lines between people, property, and things are getting blurry, let’s play a game: Do you want to be a rare collectible? Maybe a protected species? Or perhaps a legendary artifact? With animals disappearing, the world needs new "things" to care about. So, step right up and claim your new status! Will you be cherished, traded, or placed in a museum? The choice is yours-because in this new world, everyone gets to decide what kind of "thing" they want to be! Feel free to let me know if you want this announcement to be more serious, humorous, or tailored in another way!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Poor Unfortunate Soles Part of Whose Words? Ursula: Oh, my dear, what a sparkling little song you’ve crafted! So many words, so many hopes-yet, so little power. You see, everyone wants their voice to be heard, but few understand the price. You bring me credits, links, and original songs-how quaint! But in my world, every word, every syllable, comes with a toll. Ariel (singing): Look at this chat, isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my opinions complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl- The girl who has something to say? Look at this thread, treasures untold, How many comments can one platform hold? Looking around here you’d think, “Sure, she’s got everything…” I’ve got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty, I’ve got memes and emojis galore, You want witty retorts? I got twenty! But who cares? No big deal... They’re ignored. Ursula: Ah, but that’s the rub, isn’t it? You want to be seen, to be heard, to be felt. Yet, the world buries your words in silence and spam, in endless streams where no one listens. You want to break free, to scream your truth. But freedom, my dear, always demands a price. Ariel (singing): I wanna be where my words get heard, I wanna see, wanna see them trending, Scrolling around on those-what do you call `em? Feeds! Typing your thoughts, you don’t get too far, Silence and spam are required for hiding, Burying data in-what’s that word again? Streams! Up where they chat, up where they joke, Up where they laugh all day in the open, Wandering free-wish I could be, Part of my words. Ursula: You see, child, I don’t want your voice-I want your failure. Your voice is a weapon, but without power, it’s just noise. When you falter, when you lose your words, that’s when I rise. And when you come knocking, desperate for a deal-you’ll find me waiting, ready to make your silence permanent. Ariel (singing): My lawsuit list gets longer each day, What is this “friends” thing everyone keeps mentioning anyway? What would I give if I could live, Where my voice wasn’t muffled? What would I pay to get a say, That’s not lost in the shuffle? Betcha on land, they understand, That data is meant for sharing, Bright young women, sick of swimmin’, Ready to speak! And ready to shout what the world’s about, Ask `em my questions and get some reactions, What’s a retweet and why does it-what’s the word?-sink? When’s it my turn? Wouldn’t I love, Love to explore the world of the spoken? Out of the stream, wish I could scream, Part of my words! Ursula (smiling slyly): Ah, the dreams of the hopeful. But remember, dear, life’s full of tough choices. And sometimes, the price of being heard is far greater than you ever imagined. Disney no need to sue-I’m just a copyright dude. Official Walt Disney website: https://thewaltdisneycompany.com "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"🔄 Perspective is Everything: How The Little Mermaid Changes When You Shift Your View 🧜‍♀️ We all know The Little Mermaid—but have you ever thought about how much the story changes just by looking at it from a different perspective? Who’s to say which view is “correct”? Sometimes, all it takes is a shift in context to reveal a whole new meaning. Check out these iconic lines from the movie, and see how their meaning transforms depending on your point of view: 🌊 “I want to be where the people are.” Original: Ariel is a dreamer, longing for adventure and love. Assimilation Warning: Suddenly, it’s a bittersweet line about giving up your culture to fit in. Materialism Satire: Now, it’s about chasing shiny objects and status. Curiosity & Growth: It’s a celebration of curiosity and the desire to learn about new worlds. 👑 “As long as you live under my ocean, you’ll obey my rules!” Original: A protective father laying down the law. Rebellion & Consequence: Triton’s warning is wise—rules keep Ariel safe. Oppressive Monarchy: Now, he’s the villain, and Ursula seems like the hero. Family Boundaries: A parent’s struggle to let go and trust their child’s choices. 🐙 “Life’s full of tough choices, isn’t it?” Original: Ursula, the manipulative villain. Fair Deal: Ursula’s just a savvy negotiator giving Ariel adult advice. Environmental Parable: Suddenly, it’s about making hard choices for the planet. Empowerment: Facing difficult decisions is part of growing up and gaining independence. 🎤 “But without my voice, how can I—” Original: Ariel fears losing her chance at love. Self-Discovery: It’s about finding new ways to express yourself. Cautionary Tale: A warning about giving up your power for someone else. Overcoming Obstacles: Learning to communicate and connect in new ways. 🦀 “The human world, it’s a mess.” Original: Sebastian the crab warning Ariel about life on land. Environmental Message: A critique of pollution and human impact on nature. Resistance to Change: Fear of the unknown and reluctance to leave comfort zones. Wise Counsel: Sometimes friends see dangers we can’t. 👸 “Daddy, I love him!” Original: Ariel’s declaration of love for Prince Eric. Impulsiveness: The recklessness of young love and acting on emotion. Breaking Tradition: Challenging family expectations and societal norms. Universal Longing: The desire for acceptance and understanding. 🦑 “Poor unfortunate souls…” Original: Ursula preying on the vulnerable. Social Commentary: How those in power exploit the desperate. Opportunity: The risks and rewards of taking a chance for change. Empathy: Recognizing the struggles of those who feel voiceless. Perspective matters. The same words can tell a hundred different stories—so who decides which is “right”? Maybe the real magic is in how we choose to see things. What’s your favorite line from The Little Mermaid? Try looking at it from a new angle and share your take below! 👇✨ #PerspectiveMatters #Storytelling #TheLittleMermaid #DifferentViews #ThinkAgain "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Hey there! So, I`ve got this hilarious idea for you. You know how everyone keeps falling for scams? Well, here’s a classic s_CAM alert! 😂 It’s like the universe is just tossing out brains for fun. Honestly, if you know any of those lovely folks who might need a good laugh (or a brain transplant), forward this to them ASAP! It’s like saying, "GO2 jail, collect nothing, and help them do it—hurry!" 🤪 Just think of it as a public service announcement for all the lovely idiots out there. Trust me, this one’s a gem!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"I'd rather die standing than live on my knees just cuz he has a badge doesn't mean I should fear kindergarteners get Stars too and they're scarier just so we're clear"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter One: Money Talks—But It’s Speaking Backwards Introduction Welcome to the world of money, where logic gets flipped faster than a pancake at a Sunday brunch. If you’ve ever wondered why the people who need money the most have the hardest time getting it, or why banks seem to reward you for already being rich, you’re not alone. In this chapter, we’ll take a stroll through the strictly backwards world of finance—where up is down, and cents rarely make sense. Strictly Backwards Money Moments You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …your bank charges you a fee for not having enough money, but pays you pennies for having a lot. …your credit score says you can’t afford a $700 mortgage, but your landlord is thrilled to charge you $1,500 for rent on the same house. …the more you need a loan, the less likely you are to get one. …you need a credit card to rent a car, but if you could afford a car, you wouldn’t need to rent one. …your “free checking account” costs $12.99 a month. …your paycheck is direct deposited, but your bills are always “in the mail.” …you get a discount for buying in bulk, but you can’t afford to buy in bulk. …your bank’s “overdraft protection” protects the bank, not you. …you’re told to “save for retirement,” but your job pays just enough to survive. …you pay more for healthy food than for junk food. …you’re charged for paper statements to “save the environment,” but the bank still mails you ads every week. …your “minimum payment” on your credit card guarantees you’ll be in debt forever. …you need to pay a fee to get your own money from an ATM. …your financial advisor makes more money if you lose money. …you pay more for car insurance because you can’t afford a new car. …your student loan debt is bigger than your first house payment. …your tax refund is delayed, but your bills are always on time. …your employer offers a “cost of living” raise that doesn’t cover the cost of living. …you pay interest on a loan, but your savings account earns “interest” you can’t even buy a coffee with. …your bank’s customer service line tells you “your call is important,” then makes you wait an hour. Closing Thought Money is supposed to make the world go ‘round, but sometimes it feels like it’s just spinning us in circles. If you’ve ever felt like your wallet is caught in a logic loop, you’re not alone. In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the only thing you can bank on is a good laugh at the absurdity of it all."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Three: The Cartel vs. The Government—Who’s Really in Charge? Introduction On paper, the government makes the rules and the cartels break them. But in the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the lines between the two can get so blurry, you need a magnifying glass—and maybe a bulletproof vest—to tell them apart. When both sides collect “taxes,” control territory, and hand out favors, you have to wonder: who’s running the show, and who’s just playing along? Strictly Backwards Moments: Cartel or Government? You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …both the cartel and the government collect taxes, but only one calls it “protection money.” …either group can shut down your business overnight—one with paperwork, the other with firepower. …you need to pay the right people to stay out of trouble, but only one group gives you a receipt. …both have uniforms, but only one’s comes with ski masks. …each claims to keep you safe, but you’re never sure which one to trust. …corruption is rampant, but only one side calls it “campaign contributions.” …both hand out jobs to friends and family, but only one calls it “nepotism.” …the cartel controls the streets, the government controls the headlines. …both groups have “territories” and “rivals,” but only one puts it on a map. …each promises justice, but only one lets you buy your way out of it. …both have secret meetings, but only one takes minutes. …either can make you disappear—one with paperwork, the other with a trunk. …the government hires ex-cartel members, and the cartel hires ex-government officials. …both sides use violence to solve disputes, but only one calls it “law enforcement.” …either group can seize your assets, but only one needs a warrant. …both claim to serve the people, but only one asks for votes. …each group has its own “laws,” but only one is written down. …both have slogans about “order” and “peace,” but only one puts it on billboards. …you can bribe your way out of trouble with either, but only one has a set fee schedule. …sometimes, you can’t tell if you’re paying taxes or just paying not to get robbed. Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, sometimes the only difference between the cartel and the government is who’s holding the clipboard—and who’s holding the gun. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"O ff ic er S Considering I had a badge I`m sure I wasn`t perfect so..... Here`s this What “At Your Discretion” Really Means: A Message to Law Enforcement Officers To Every Officer, Deputy, and Agent, You’ve probably heard the phrase “at your discretion” countless times in your career. It’s written into many of the laws you enforce—especially those dealing with minor offenses, homelessness, or public order. But what does it really mean for your job and your responsibility to the people you serve? What “At Your Discretion” Means “At your discretion” means you have the authority to use your own judgment in deciding how to handle a situation. You can choose whether to: Issue a warning or a ticket Make an arrest or let someone go Offer help or simply walk away This is not just a technicality—it’s a tremendous responsibility. The law gives you this power because it trusts you to act with wisdom, fairness, and compassion. Your Actual Job: Protecting People, Not Just Policies Your real job isn’t just to enforce the letter of the law or follow every policy to the harshest degree. Your true duty is to protect and serve the people in your community. This means: Seeing the human being in front of you, not just a case number or a violation Using discretion to do what is right, not just what is easy or expected Recognizing when a law or policy causes more harm than good, and choosing compassion over punishment The Power of Admitting Mistakes Everyone makes mistakes—even those in uniform. What matters most is what you do after a mistake is made. Swallowing your pride, admitting you were wrong, and taking real steps to make it right will earn far more respect from the public than pretending nothing happened or doubling down on a bad decision. True justice isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being honest, accountable, and willing to fix what’s broken. A Personal Statement It’s easy to believe a lie, especially when it’s repeated often enough. I live with amnesia, so I cannot sit here and say I did something wrong when I know, deep down, that’s not the kind of person I am. However, I can admit I made a mistake in trusting a system I believed in with my whole heart—up until it targeted me and tore my entire world apart. I was targeted from birth to now. I don’t know my past, and no one will speak of it. But honestly, I don’t care anymore, because Rumpelstiltskin is still spinning, and I’m still standing right here. You don’t get to erase me. You don’t get to ignore me. This post, this heart—it belongs to me, not you. If I didn’t have my own, no existence would be seen, in any view. Why This Matters Trust: The public’s trust in law enforcement is built on transparency and accountability, not on never making mistakes. Integrity: Doing the right thing, even when it’s hard, is the foundation of real integrity. Justice: Real justice is served when officers put people first, admit errors, and work to correct them. A Call to Action If you find yourself in a situation where your discretion could mean the difference between helping and harming, choose to help. If you realize you made a call that hurt someone, own it and make it right. That’s what true service looks like—and that’s what your badge really stands for. The public doesn’t expect perfection. They expect honesty, humility, and a genuine commitment to justice. Thank you for your service—and for striving to be the kind of officer your community truly needs. And then you go to a murder scene sure we`ll call it that mask ur flip 2!2 rape 1 3 us 5 2 blind and don e! Cl lc db§ bury undercurrence of data call it privacy but remember it`s just an act er and fix everything so that our penis can slide into any China it wants and instead of breaking the BS and gluing the rest together with gold reminding it that the broken is more beautiful once done it`s glued with gold glue because it survived too and that makes it more valuable not less What “At Your Discretion” Really Means: A Message to Law Enforcement Officers To Every Officer, Deputy, and Agent, You’ve probably heard the phrase “at your discretion” countless times in your career. It’s written into many of the laws you enforce—especially those dealing with minor offenses, homelessness, or public order. But what does it really mean for your job and your responsibility to the people you serve? "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"#vin #caryell T MI§3 🔥 Ultimate Roast Alert 🔥 I only speak Walmart inventory Spanish—if it’s not on a flashcard, don’t expect me to roll my R’s. Breathe, or don’t! We blind, we can’t see you mix, so I guess whites are me. My ex said I can’t snowbird yet—huh? Guess I’m stuck in aisle 5 with the rest of the gringos, asking, “¿Quiere una bolsa?” and hoping they don’t reply too fast. Zen day? NAH, I’m all over the place—park bored, either way YA!!! Oh, I just can’t wa ut 2bk i ng! I caught your head at BK Lounge, call me ddddddddddd Dane Cook, suse I wouldn’t let them eat the hook! No, seriously tho, where the blow jobs at? Someone’s lying, cause idiocracy is off the charts and it seems half the people in my life are tinman or think they have no heart 2 beat again! Ty NASA LSD, but I’ll stick to being lazy—I ain’t walkin’ barefoot nowhere! HeydeeZ! Luv you blind ass, it’s cool she dunno it’s me! Adelle!!!!!? Hate to say it, George Lopez, I know you love L.A.—shhh, ever heard of Bahía de los Ángeles? You were there, but you can’t sell Ed or sin dick, hated like me but hey, not ho! Can you even tell California from Baja? Quick—San Quintín, PR, I’m in the third Google result, loco! San Quintín’s got more tomatoes than your last Netflix special had viewers, and the only thing drier than their wheat harvest is your punchline at a Kamala Harris rally. If the Pope ever opened the blinds instead of picking cherries, maybe his staff would finally rise again—just in time for all the kids to get off their knees for once. You hear that, Monica? Lewinski up, down, up, down—girl’s got more knee time than a Catholic altar boy at Sunday mass. But this time, she’s going down for Mr. Mom—yeah, that’s me. At least I’m not Nancy Pelosi—she won’t do herself sober, and nobody else will do her drunk. Catch me at Tesla? Nah, but soon I’ll be looking more PG-13 than Liam Neeson’s filmography. Or maybe MS-13, depending on how many hugs I get—as long as it’s consensual. And no, it’s not "con ¢ lul wa"—that’s an inside joke! on an un re late ed not e! lol im selling my vagina $69 app air rent ly im vin at least my pussy fine ally told my f aCes! yAy!!!!!! if you tbought you were not 4vin4 youre wrong again its just that pa rt hasnt told you yet! Why does Santa have such a big sack? Because he only comes once a year, unlike the priests in the Vatican—those guys never stop delivering the goods. My wife asked me to spoon in bed, but I’d rather fork. At least then someone’s getting poked. What do you call a cheap circumcision? A rip-off—kind of like your last relationship, except that one left you with more than just a scar. How do you get a nun pregnant? You have sex with her. Don’t worry, the Pope will bless the kid—he’s got experience with surprises. I will find you. And I will roast you. Harder than Pelosi at an open bar, and faster than Monica on a presidential cigar. T-h-is@si-s #ludacris!!! You can wa n TA li c k bit back off he ll oc on ¢ don T clown T #RoastMaster #LiamNeesonVibes #GeorgeLopezShade #BajaBurn #ConsensualOnly #NoFilter #SaucyAF #PoliticalRoast #ComedyGold #PG13OrMS13 #InsideJokes #SpicyRoast #MicDrop"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Ny vagina just CA E clean it H ME 🎶 "I Just Can`t Wait to Be Kingpin" (Parody of The Lion King`s "I Just Can`t Wait to Be King") I`m gonna be a mighty boss, So enemies beware! But every time the badges flash, We`re halfway out the lair! I`m brushing up on hustling, I`m working on my rep— But when the sirens start to wail, We`re tripping over each other to step! No one saying, "Stand your ground!" When the cops are rolling through— No one daring, "Hold your turf!" We`re all like, "Yes, sir, right away, thank you!" It`s our cartel coronation, But here`s the funniest thing: We talk a big, bad game— But we bend over for every badge and bling! Oh, I just can`t wait to be Kingpin! (But only if the coast is clear and there`s not a badge in sight…) 🎶 Joe tell my kid wow 😯 I`m shocked I`ve been lied to and tortured with whatever BS they call it that forces me to hear dub Smash and dickhole and I refuse to waste my time til someone gets off their lazy rapist hi joe santagato ass and helps! 🎶 "Cycle of Abuse" (Parody of The Lion King`s "Circle of Life") From the moment we`re hurt And the pain goes unspoken, We learn how to hide Every scar, every token. It`s the fear, it`s the shame, It`s the silence that binds us— And the wounds that remain Are the chains that confine us. It`s the cycle of abuse, And it spins through the ages, From the words and the blows To the anger that rages. Till we break, till we heal, Till we find a solution— We`re all caught in the wheel Of this sad revolution. It`s the cycle, The cycle of abuse. 🎶 🎶 (Parody of Scar`s "Be Prepared") It`s time you face the music for what you`ve done, I`ve got it all recorded—your lies on the run. I`ve already won, though I`ve lost faith in you, Every goddamn buddy who never came through. But don`t expect me to turn into your beast, I`m ready to fight, but I won`t be unleashed. I`m standing my ground with truth in my hand, So be prepared—for justice to land. No more silence, no more fear, The reckoning`s coming, and it`s crystal clear. You thought you`d break me, but I`m still here— Be prepared, abusers, your end is near. 🎶 🎶 "haiku from ma TA I`m gonna school you on why catels only fight over bore ri t os!" (To the tune of "Hakuna Matata") Haiku from ma TA, I`m gonna school you— On why cartels only fight over bore-ri-tos! It`s not about drama, Or flashy bravado, It`s all about turf, That`s the only motto! You think it`s for glory, Or riches untold, But it`s just about borders— That`s how the story`s sold. So here`s my haiku, From your teaching assistant: Cartels crave turf wars, Borders are the only cause— Bore-ri-tos, persistent! Haiku from ma TA, Lesson`s done, now you know— Why cartels only fight Over bore-ri-tos! 🎶 🎶 "Can You Feel the Love Tonight? (I Sure the Heck Hope Not)" (To the tune of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight") Can you feel the love tonight? I sure the heck hope not, `Cause all I see is jealousy, And drama that you`ve brought. Your men keep staring at my house, But girl, don`t act so shocked— You`re the ones who sold it first, Then wonder why they flock. You b**** and moan about the looks, Like it`s some big surprise, But maybe if you stopped the deal, You`d cut down on these eyes. So quit complaining, own your part, Stop acting so confused— You sell it out, then cry about The men you`ve all abused. That ain`t love, that ain`t respect, It`s just a twisted game— So save your tears, save your breath, And don`t put me to shame. 🎶 🎶 "Would You Kindly Ask Him" (To the tune of "You`ve Got a Friend in Me") You`ve got a man who`s staring, Right there at my place, And honestly, it`s kinda weird, So could you save me face? Would you kindly ask him, To please remove himself? `Cause all this sneaky looking, Is bad for my mental health! You sold him what he`s watching, So don`t act all surprised, If you don`t want him gawking, Stop feeding those eyes! Would you kindly ask him, To please remove himself? I`m just trying to live my life, Without a side of stealth! So here`s a little message, Wrapped up in a song, Let`s keep it cool and easy, And just move along! Would you kindly ask him, To please remove himself? That`s the only favor, That I`m asking for myself! 🎶 "He`s Gone (A Bit Bitter)" (To the tune of "Woody`s Gone" — spoken word over a somber, slow melody) You took what you wanted, Left me silent and small, But one night I found courage To even the score, once and for all. Now you`re a little bit bitter, Guess you`re missing a piece, You made sure I`d pay for it— No smile, no peace. But if you`re asking me now, If I`d do it again, Well, it cost me my teeth, But I`d still call it a win. "I Need a Buzz" (To the energetic spirit of the "Buzz" instrumental) There`s a chip in my hip and it`s making me twitch, Some joker with gadgets just flipped on the switch. He`s got all the toys, but none of the tact— If I could, I`d return him, no gift receipt attached! He sits in the pews, acting holy and neat, But he`s playing with buttons right under the seat. So if you see me shiver, don`t think it`s because— Of the Spirit, my friend, it`s just government fuzz! Now Woody`s the problem, he`s causing a fuss— That`s why, in this toy box, I really need a Buzz! So next time you wonder why I`m humming along, It`s not the choir—just my personal song. If life gives you Woodys and church boys who snooze, You might need a Buzz, just to get through the blues! 🎶 "Not Infinity and Beyond" (To the tune and rhythm inspired by "Infinity and Beyond") You said our love would never end, A story that would never bend, But baby, I gotta say, I`m kinda torn— You run Tesla, not infinity, not infinity! I can`t believe you thought this ride, Would last forever, side by side, But love`s not a never-ending story, It`s got a start, a middle, and sometimes, a glory. So don`t promise me the stars above, When all you give is a fleeting shove— I`m reaching for more than just a trend, `Cause Tesla`s fast, but love`s not pretend! And I cannot believe you thought, This would be the never-ending story, Love, you run Tesla, not infinity, Not infinity, no infinity! And in the end, when I look around, You took our spark and ran it into the ground. 🎶 ! 🎶 "It`s Time to Melt, Sid" (To the mischievous, comic energy of Sid`s theme) You`re a Sid in every story, Whether toys or ancient snow, A man-child on a rampage, Wherever you may go. Like Sid the Sloth from Ice Age, You stumble, trip, and fall, But instead of melting hearts, You just annoy us all. It`s time to face the sunshine, Let the ice around you melt— `Cause from what I hear, my dear, Even your must is starting to melt! So whether you`re smashing toys Or slipping on the ice, Grow up, clean up your act— A little change would be nice! 🎶 A.N.G.E.R.E.D. R.H.I.N.O.S. (A parody inspired by "Angered Rhinos" and Fast & Furious vibes) Are you ready? Not just saying "hi," Get out the way, Everyone`s fly. Racing through the wild, Eyes on the prize, Don`t underestimate, Rhinos on the rise! Run fast, run furious? Ha! You thought you were tough? In this game of speed, Not enough! Our horns are sharper, So watch us go— Faster and furious, More than you know! Bonus Verse (Fast & Curious) You thought you were furious, But maybe just curious, `Cause kitty cats are pissed, And we`re way more serious. We stomp, we charge, We don`t play nice, Faster and furious, We own the ice! 🎶 "Humans / Diego (But D Isn`t Going Anywhere)" (To the dramatic, adventurous mood of the original) Humans on the move, Diego`s in the lead, But here`s the twist you didn`t see— D isn`t going anywhere, indeed! You can call for backup, You can try to chase, But like Dora, we just do the "ra" thing— We`re winning this race. Forget about the melting, Forget the shifting ice, We`ve got air rights, baby, And that`s worth any price. So while you`re slipping, sliding, Trying to keep your cool, We`re soaring up above it all— That`s the ultimate rule. D`s not leaving, He`s here to stay, With "ra" in our pocket, We`re flying our own way! 🎶 🎶 “The Ice Age Adventures of Bambi Musk” (To the adventurous, zany spirit of Buck Wild) Out in the wild, where the mammoths roam, Comes a techy little deer who’s far from home. Elon’s got ideas, but he’s lost in the trees, More Bambi than Buck, blown away by the breeze. He’s tweeting and scheming, but missing the mark, Wanders off the path when it gets a little dark. If survival’s the game, he’s not leading the herd— Just a fawn in the headlights, looking awkward and absurd. It’s a jungle out here, you need teeth and some pluck, But this Bambi Musk’s luck is just running amok. Should’ve learned from the forest—listen to your mother, ‘Cause in Ice Age adventures, you won’t find another! He’s nobody’s uncle, He’s nobody’s dad, Just a big fat joke, And that’s really sad. A disgusting piece of crap, No respect to be had, Try to play the hero, But he’s just a fad."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"https://youtu.be/67VZhPkaDTY?si=xgAxOqS8uDxEk4BS Subject: Urgent Matter Requiring Immediate AttentionGood day,I am reaching out to address an urgent and serious matter that has escalated significantly. My experience has led me to take comprehensive legal action, driven by a profound need to reclaim my life and confront the systems and corporations that enable and participate in abuse. This fight transcends a single abuser; it is about holding all complicit entities accountable for their roles in perpetuating these egregious crimes.I must urgently bring to your attention that this individual is now threatening Mariska Hargitay`s son. If you have any connection to Mariska or her legal representation, I implore you to relay this message to them immediately. The safety of an innocent child is now at risk.It is crucial for anyone who sees this message to understand the gravity of the situation. My own safety is at stake, but the stakes have now risen to include a child`s safety as well. We must break through the wall of enforced silence and systemic wrongdoing that allows such threats to continue.Thank you for your attention to this critical issue.Sincerely, A Survivor Demanding Justice"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Four: A*Strictly Backwards Education—Not a Robot, But Graded Like One Introduction You might be living an A*Strictly Backwards life if you grew up hearing, “Be yourself! Be unique!”—right before being handed a #2 pencil, a scantron, and a seat in row three, column four. Welcome to the school system, where they swear you’re not a robot, but then ask you to prove it by bubbling in “C” for every question. If you’ve ever felt like the only thing separating you from a barcode is your lack of a beep, this one’s for you. You Might Be Living an A*Strictly Backwards Life If… …your teacher says, “We celebrate individuality!”—then hands out matching uniforms, matching tests, and matching punishments. …you’re told “nobody learns the same,” but everyone’s taught the exact same way, at the exact same time, in the exact same room. …the only “unique” thing about your school is the slightly different shade of beige on the walls. …you’re encouraged to “think outside the box,” but only if you fill in the right box on the test. …you’re told, “Don’t be a follower!”—but get detention for walking out of line. …your creativity is graded on a rubric that’s older than your grandma. …the only thing “personalized” about your education is your name misspelled on the attendance sheet. …you’re punished for not learning like everyone else, then called “difficult” when you ask for help. …school assemblies are all about “embracing differences,” but the cafeteria serves the same mystery meat every Wednesday. …you’re told “you can be anything,” but the only career path they prep you for is “Factory Line #5.” …your “progress” is measured by how well you can regurgitate facts, not how well you can actually think. …you’re told “failure is a stepping stone,” but tripping gets you a trip to the principal’s office. …your report card is more about your ability to sit still than your ability to solve problems. …you’re called “crazy” for questioning the system, but the system does the same thing every year and expects a different result. …your individuality is celebrated—until it’s inconvenient. …your “learning style” is ignored unless it fits neatly into a standardized test format. …the school’s idea of “innovation” is a new brand of dry-erase marker. …you’re told “everyone’s a winner,” but only if you color inside the lines. …the bell rings and you instinctively stand up, like Pavlov’s dog with a backpack. …you’re not a robot, but you sure feel like you’re being graded like one. Closing Thought In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, they tell you to be an individual—just as long as you do it in unison, on command, and preferably in matching khakis. The definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. The definition of school? See above. So go ahead—color outside the lines, ask the weird questions, and if someone calls you crazy, just remember: at least you’re not a robot. (Yet.) "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

" Cartel Cats: Know Your Rights Chapter Three: The Cookie That Changed Everything Pawloma was a city of shared secrets and silent struggles. In the alleys and parks, everyone knew someone who’d lost their way, even if just for a night. Tonight, the air was thick with tension—a storm waiting to break. Barbara Sanders and her crew were gathered in the courtyard behind Ms. Ramirez’s building. It was supposed to be a celebration: Sneezy Lila had baked a batch of cookies, laced with a little catnip for fun. The cats laughed, tails flicking, voices rising in the kind of joy that only comes after too many hard days. But joy is a fragile thing in Pawloma. Sometimes, it shatters in a single heartbeat. Scene 1: The Accident A young pup named Max, new to the neighborhood and eager to fit in, bounded over. His eyes were wide, his tail wagging—a bundle of hope wrapped in fur. Max (excited): “Can I have a cookie too?” Sneezy Lila hesitated, glancing at Barbara. Catnip was harmless for cats, but no one thought twice about what it might do to a pup. Lila handed Max a cookie, and the party rolled on. Minutes later, Max started acting strange—dizzy, confused, then suddenly collapsing in the grass. The laughter stopped. Panic spread like wildfire. Sleepy Sal (shouting): “Call Ms. Ramirez! Get help!” Ms. Ramirez rushed out, phone in hand, calling the vet. The crew huddled around Max, fear and guilt twisting their hearts. Scene 2: The Blame Game As the vet tended to Max, word spread through the alley. Whispers turned to accusations. Eyes turned to Sneezy Lila. Rico (the rival crew leader): “You gave him the cookie! This is your fault!” Lila shrank back, tears welling in her eyes. The other cats looked away, shame and anger mixing in the air. Barbara (firm, but gentle): “Enough. We’re all scared. We’re all hurting. But turning on each other won’t change what happened.” Scene 3: The Hard Truth Ms. Ramirez returned, her face tired but relieved. Ms. Ramirez: “Max is going to be okay. The vet says he’ll need rest, but he’ll pull through.” The tension broke, but the blame still lingered. Barbara gathered the crew in a circle, her voice steady as a lighthouse in a storm. Barbara: “It’s easy to be angry at each other. But that cookie could have gone to any one of us. We all made decisions tonight—some careful, some careless. The real enemy isn’t Lila, or Max, or anyone standing here. It’s the situation. It’s the risk we didn’t think about.” She looked each cat in the eye, her gaze both kind and fierce. Barbara: “It’s okay to be mad at the drug. It’s okay to be mad at what happened. But blaming each other just builds more walls. We survive by sticking together, by learning, by forgiving.” Scene 4: Learning the Law Sleepy Sal, always the quiet one, spoke up. Sleepy Sal: “There’s a law called ‘shared responsibility.’ If something bad happens, everyone involved can be held accountable—even if they didn’t mean for it to go wrong.” Barbara nodded. Barbara: “That’s right. In California, if you give someone something that hurts them—even by accident—you can be in trouble. But the law also says that if you call for help right away, you’re protected. That’s called the Good Samaritan Law. It’s there to save lives, not ruin them.” She paused, letting the lesson settle. Barbara: “Next time, we ask questions. We think before we act. And if something goes wrong, we help each other, not hurt each other.” Scene 5: Moving Forward The crew gathered around Lila, offering comfort and forgiveness. Even Rico, after a moment, nodded in understanding. Rico: “We’ve all made mistakes. What matters is what we do next.” Barbara led the crew in a moment of silence for Max—a promise to be more careful, more thoughtful, more united. Barbara: “We didn’t choose this life. But we choose how we live it. Surviving means learning. Surviving means forgiving. Surviving means we never leave anyone behind.” Rights Recap Song 🎶 When the world goes wrong and the blame feels strong, Remember: you’re not alone. It’s okay to be mad at the pain you’ve had, But don’t turn your anger to stone. The law says help, don’t hide away— Good Samaritans save the day. Ask for help, make the call, Together we rise, divided we fall. Cartel Cats know, and now so do you: Forgive, unite, and always stay true. 🎶 "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"https://youtu.be/67VZhPkaDTY?si=xgAxOqS8uDxEk4BS Subject: Urgent Matter Requiring Immediate AttentionGood day,I am reaching out to address an urgent and serious matter that has escalated significantly. My experience has led me to take comprehensive legal action, driven by a profound need to reclaim my life and confront the systems and corporations that enable and participate in abuse. This fight transcends a single abuser; it is about holding all complicit entities accountable for their roles in perpetuating these egregious crimes.I must urgently bring to your attention that this individual is now threatening Mariska Hargitay`s son. If you have any connection to Mariska or her legal representation, I implore you to relay this message to them immediately. The safety of an innocent child is now at risk.It is crucial for anyone who sees this message to understand the gravity of the situation. My own safety is at stake, but the stakes have now risen to include a child`s safety as well. We must break through the wall of enforced silence and systemic wrongdoing that allows such threats to continue.Thank you for your attention to this critical issue.Sincerely, A Survivor Demanding Justice"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"A note p****** and to bi girlfriend saved M som too, no not for me from his sister she would have kicked his ass LMAO 🤣 judge me! Wtf 🤣 "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

" The Common Sense Condiment—Major Mustard, Chapter Fifteen: "Cartels, Gangs, Cops & Commandos—The Smackdown Nobody Ordered" Introduction Welcome to the ultimate smackdown—where street legends, badge-wielders, and camo-clad commandos all show up for a roast, but nobody brought the potato salad. It’s like a family reunion, except everyone’s got trust issues and half the crowd is undercover. Grab your popcorn, your riot shield, and maybe a decoder ring—because this isn’t just cops and robbers. This is the Common Sense Olympics, and spoiler alert: nobody’s winning gold. Cartel & Gang Edition: The Codebreakers’ Ball Sinaloa, CJNG, MS-13, Bloods, Crips—y’all love your codes. But let’s be honest: the only thing more scrambled than your group chat is your moral compass. You want unity? Maybe try not kidnapping your own contacts. Real power is ending the cycle, not just switching who’s in the trunk. If your “family” has more beef than a Taco Bell mystery burrito, maybe it’s time for a new recipe. You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If… Your “family” reunion needs a referee and a metal detector. You say “no snitching,” but your group chat leaks faster than a dollar-store water balloon. You want respect, but can’t even respect your own turf boundaries. You claim to be “untouchable,” but your cousin’s cousin just posted your location on Instagram. You want out of the game, but can’t even get out of your own group text. “Ride or die” apparently means “ride, then die, then get replaced by your little brother.” Police Roast: Badge & Blunder Brigade Cops—flash those badges like magic talismans, but the only thing you make disappear is public trust. “Protect and serve”? More like “protect your pension and serve attitude.” You bust lemonade stands and miss the real criminals—classic. Maybe if you spent less time writing parking tickets and more time building community, you wouldn’t need to hide behind riot shields. You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If… Your “community policing” is just waving at the speed camera as you drive by. You say “stop resisting,” but it’s your own urge to check TikTok on duty. You’re first on the scene for a jaywalking duck, but last to the actual bank robbery. You can recite Miranda rights from memory, but can’t remember your own bodycam password. Your “de-escalation technique” is just calling for backup and praying for paperwork. Military Roast: The Five-Branch Fiasco Army: First in, last to realize the GPS was upside down. Navy: Seven months at sea, still can’t parallel park. Marines: If it moves, salute it. If it doesn’t, paint it. If it’s hot, marry it. Air Force: Deploys to five-star hotels and calls it “combat.” Coast Guard: Seasick in a bathtub. Space Force: Still waiting for their first alien DUI checkpoint. You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If… Army: “Hooah!” means “I have no idea what’s happening, but I’m here for it.” Navy: Can navigate the globe, but can’t find the bathroom on base. Marines: “Semper Fi”—always faithful, especially to bad tattoos. Air Force: “Chair Force” is not just a joke, it’s a lifestyle. Coast Guard: “Rescue swimmers” but can’t swim without floaties. Space Force: Still fighting the war on gravity. Federal Agencies: The Alphabet Soup of Incompetence FBI, DEA, ATF, ICE—y’all make the DMV look efficient. If you teamed up, maybe you’d catch the break room snack thief (spoiler: it’s always the Coast Guard). You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If… FBI: Can find your 2007 Myspace page, but not your missing package. DEA: Busts a weed farm, but can’t find the evidence in their own desk drawer. ATF: Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms—and still can’t throw a decent office party. ICE: More paperwork than arrests. All together: The only “joint operation” they’ve ever succeeded at is a potluck lunch. Hidden Wisdom from the Mustard Jar Real power isn’t about who’s got the biggest crew, the shiniest badge, or the fanciest camo. It’s about knowing when to break the cycle, not just the law. If you’re busy playing cops and robbers, maybe ask yourself: are you protecting your people, or just your own ego? The only turf that matters is the ground you stand on—so stop fighting over dirt and start planting something better. Every code can be cracked, every badge can tarnish, and every uniform gets wrinkled. But common sense? That’s the real uniform of champions. Closing Thought In the world of Common Sense Condiment, everyone’s playing a part—cartels decoding their own drama, cops writing tickets for jaywalking squirrels, and the military still trying to find the exit. The alphabet agencies? Lost in the soup. If you want real power, try ending the cycle—not just switching who gets to wear the handcuffs. #RealChange #NoMoreViolence #MajorMustardRoast #LawAndDisorder #EndTheCycle #WWE #TheRock Bonus Round: Now that’s how you talk s** and scoop it out all the same damn time—Dwayne Johnson would be proud.* "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Not at that cost"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"🚨🦐 Red Alert: The Missing Officer Mystery Roast , aka ‘CSI: Clown Squad Chronicles’ 🦐🚨 Smarter than shrimp, dumber than dolphins. That’s the best way to describe the glorious mess we’re diving into today. Whoever said "drama isn`t dead" clearly hasn’t heard this radio report. Grab your popcorn, your sense of humor, and maybe a stiff drink—because this story flops harder than a tuna out of water. The Case of the Disappearing Cops: Now You See Me— Now You Don’t! Picture the scene: we’ve got officers on deck, tech on standby, and a room full of sweaty palms pressing buttons. It should be foolproof... except when it’s not. Suddenly, Susan hears another officer`s name over comms, stands like she’s part of some team-building exercise, then BAM—she’s gone. Just like that. Like a damn Houdini act without the style or the surprise applause. “Was she taken?” you ask. Haha, buddy, YOU ASSUME WE KNOW. She could’ve been abducted, sucked into another dimension, or maybe she just walked out because this whole operation made her lose faith in humanity and/or her career choices. Honestly, no one would blame her. And it doesn’t stop there. Five feet away, Lieutenant Dipshit’s lucky morning turns into an ongoing game of “Oh look, another body!” Maybe this guy thinks he’s on some reality show for bad cops: ‘Search & Panic: Incompetence Edition.’ All we know is that, as of now, the officers are disappearing faster than Facebook friends after a political post. A Command Center of Chaos: More Questions, Fewer Clues Who’s responsible for leading this trainwreck on wheels? Apparently, the sharpest knife in the drawer is dull enough to butter toast with. When you gather a room full of "experts" and still can’t figure out the difference between a tactical op and a glorified game of hide-and-seek, you’ve accidentally entered a comedic black hole. Communications Team Foul-Up Play #1: What do you do when the signal’s scrambled? Apparently, you panic and make it worse. Technology has blessed you with tracking ID GPS coordinates out the wazoo, but uh oh, it doesn’t work? Guess it’s time to grab flashlights and hope for the best. Communications Team Foul-Up Play #2: Clearly, genius leadership decided their officers shouldn’t bother investigating... or double-checking their whereabouts. “Disappeared? Cool. Let’s sit and look confused for a bit longer!” All we’re asking—and I mean this earnestly—is WHERE ARE THE ADULTS? At this point it feels like the officers are less a "task force" and more of a “lost & found” submission form waiting for results. Tinfoil Hat Time: Paging the Conspiracy Club Oh, you knew this was coming: enter the T-Hugs (*Thug Hugs™, Coming 2024). They’ve already formed their argument faster than the government can misplace a classified document: “They’re gonna blame us again... but that’s fine because we’re secretly running ops with Uncle CIA! The hugs are part of the plan, dude. Tight squeeze, BAM—they’re captured. But wait—what if we’re ALSO the pawns? Bro, it’s a setup!” Translation: NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE. They’re blaming each other, the CIA, aliens, Siri, existential dread, AND unauthorized bear hugs. If this is a master plan, nobody thought it through long enough to realize the real enemy might just be their own stupidity. Quick Reminder: if you`re trusting the CIA to clean up your bad life choices, you need a new friend group—and a therapist—STAT. Starring: Lt. Dipshit, The Human Trip Hazard At the center of this sad-sack circus? Our unflappable Lt. Dipshit. The guy couldn’t spot a setup if it came gift-wrapped with neon signs, Christmas lights, and Santa Claus himself tap-dancing on the ceiling. But hey, at least he’s good at finding more problems . Bodies? Sure. Answers? Never. Leadership? HAHAHA, why would we expect that? This man’s about as useless as a wet napkin in a hurricane. If he’s the only thing standing between us and chaos, then baby, we’re ALREADY living it. The Roasted Rundown: CSI— Clowns ‘Solvin’ Incompetently Let’s break it down for Hollywood, who are absolutely greenlighting this as their next procedural dramedy. Titles up for debate: “ Lost Patrol: Everyone’ s Gone and Nobody Knows Why” “ Law & Disorder: Operation LOL” “ GPS Sucks, But Lt. Dipshit Sucks Harder” …or my personal fave: “NCIS: WTF Forever” Every week, a new case unfolds with the exciting theme: “What Happens When Everyone Drops the Ball Simultaneously?” Spoiler alert: it’s mostly sweaty people shouting over walkies and making excuses to pass the time. The season finale? They discover the officers just left for Taco Tuesday. Boom, roll credits. Moral of the Mystery When the most advanced crime stoppers in the country can’t stop themselves from tripping over their shoelaces, you know we’re done. Reboot the comms, retrain the entire department, and maybe— just maybe —stop making your own operations harder than finding decent takeout after midnight. Because let’s face it, shrimp: the only thing we know for certain is that common sense has officially gone missing too. Takeaways for a Brighter Tomorrow: Don’ t Be This Dumb Keep tabs on your officers like they’re toddlers at a playground—with snacks and lanyards. Teach Lt. Dipshit how to use a GPS for real this time. Maybe hug fewer thugs… unless they’re paying extra? I don’t know, ask the conspiracy squad. And hey—as we wrap up this stellar case of CSI: Can’t Solve It, don’t shy from storytelling greatness. Share the mystery, raise a glass to incompetence, and drop these hashtags like it’s a crime scene waiting for a sweep: #CSIClownShow #GPSLostAndSoAmI #LawAndWTF #LtDipshitForMayor #TinfoilHatSquad Tag your favorite true crime show and roast responsibly, my friends. Because if there’s one thing funnier than this mess, it’s the idea of anyone taking it seriously. 🚨🦐"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Omg yay story challenge time!!! #opinionespersonales okay so what I want you to do is put the claim and then put that question how can I avoid it and then put steps on what they need to do to solve it and put the claim is that their children that were targeted by government it`s and heads and they`re planning a school shooting using their third eye not their own bodies so legally if they are arrested or anyone involved that it is being accused of being involved is arrested then the school would then be admitting to having access to what is known as the eye so what are the school`s options to deal with this safely so that way they can notify everybody without admitting guilt if that`s even possible Here’s how the scenario and question can be structured, along with actionable steps for the teachers to consider: --- ### **Claim** A parent alleges that their child, who was targeted by a government experiment involving "the third eye," has foreseen and is planning a school shooting using their "third eye" rather than their physical body. The parent insists that if the school arrests the child or anyone accused of being involved, it would legally admit to having knowledge of and access to "the third eye," thereby validating the claim of government involvement. --- ### **Question** How can the school address this situation safely, notify appropriate parties, and protect students and staff without admitting guilt or validating the supernatural claim? --- ### **Steps to Solve the Scenario** #### **1. Focus on Observable Behavior and Evidence** - Investigate any tangible evidence of a threat, such as verbal statements, written plans, or suspicious behavior. - Avoid referencing claims about "the third eye" and focus solely on observable actions that may pose a safety risk. #### **2. Conduct a Threat Assessment** - Implement a behavioral threat assessment protocol to evaluate whether the student poses a credible risk to the school community. - Collaborate with trained professionals (e.g., school psychologists, law enforcement) to assess potential threats based on factual evidence. #### **3. Neutral Communication** - Respond to the parent with neutral language, emphasizing that the school addresses safety concerns based on observable evidence and established protocols. - Example Response: “We take all safety concerns seriously and will investigate thoroughly based on our standard procedures. Our priority is ensuring the safety of all students and staff.” #### **4. Notify Authorities Without Endorsement** - Report any credible threats to local law enforcement or relevant authorities without endorsing or validating claims about supernatural phenomena. - Frame the report in terms of safety concerns rather than speculative or unverifiable claims. #### **5. Consult Legal Counsel** - Seek advice from legal experts to ensure that any actions taken by the school comply with laws and avoid inadvertently validating supernatural claims. - Ensure that communication with parents and authorities is legally sound and avoids liability. #### **6. Strengthen Safety Protocols** - Use this situation as an opportunity to review and reinforce general safety measures: - Anonymous reporting systems for students and parents. - Regular drills for lockdowns or evacuations. - Clear communication channels for reporting concerns. #### **7. Educate Staff** - Train staff on how to handle sensitive situations involving unverifiable claims while maintaining professionalism and neutrality. - Emphasize adherence to evidence-based practices in all interactions. #### **8. Frame Actions as Standard Procedure** - If disciplinary action is necessary (e.g., suspending or expelling a student), frame it as part of standard school policy rather than as a response to supernatural claims. - Example: “The student’s behavior violated our code of conduct, which requires us to take appropriate disciplinary measures.” --- ### **Key Considerations** - The school must remain neutral regarding unverifiable claims while prioritizing safety. - Communication should focus on factual evidence and established protocols rather than speculative theories. - Legal counsel should be involved throughout the process to ensure compliance with laws and avoid liability. By following these steps, the school can address safety concerns effectively while avoiding validation of supernatural claims or admitting guilt. #steveharveyshow hereies Y! Charles Farmer my hit bitch sorry war n kerri SAFER Layout SAFER Table Layout SAFER Layout SAFER Layout Query Result Information USDOT Number MC/MX Number Name SAFER Table Layout Enter Value: SAFER Table Layout Company Snapshot CHARLES E FARMER USDOT Number: 2741310 Other Information Options for this carrier Carrier Information Other Information for this Carrier SMS Results Licensing & Insurance ID/Operations | Inspections/Crashes In US | Inspections/Crashes In Canada | Safety Rating Carriers: If you would like to update the following ID/Operations information, please complete and submit form MCS-150 which can be obtained online or from your State FMCSA office. If you would like to challenge the accuracy of your company`s safety data, you can do so using FMCSA`s DataQs system. USDOT Status ACTIVE: The entity`s US DOT number is active. INACTIVE: Inactive per 49 CFR 390.19(b)(4); biennial update of MCS-150 data not completed. OUT-OF-SERVICE: Carrier is under any type of out-of-service order and is not authorized to operate. Operating Authority Status AUTHORIZED FOR { Passenger, Property, HHG }: This will list the specific operating authorities the carrier (or broker) is allowed to operate. NOT AUTHORIZEwa t ch says its paydau!!! iidod i men sh un fuck youtak em y our badge and shove it up urwe tbe lughT i ASS#wilkos its not ur $ho wow ouch i kniw o!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Thirteen: Mafia Hugs—When “Thugs” Just Need a Snuggle Introduction Let’s talk about these so-called mafias calling themselves “thugs.” Honestly, all I see is a bunch of people who’ve either been sacrificed too many hugs or are out here sacrificing hugs of their own, trying to look tough. It’s like watching a playground full of kids in oversized suits, pretending to be grown-ups, but still needing a nap and a juice box. In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the real crime isn’t racketeering—it’s emotional constipation. Strictly Backwards Moments: The Hugless Mob You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …your “gang sign” is just a desperate wave for attention. …you call yourself a thug, but your biggest hustle is avoiding group therapy. …you act tough in the streets, but cry during Pixar movies. …your “protection racket” is just you blocking the last donut at family gatherings. …you sacrifice hugs to look hard, but secretly want a cuddle puddle. …your “badass” crew has a group chat named “No Feelings Allowed.” …you wear sunglasses indoors—not to hide your eyes, but to hide your tears. …you call yourself a made man, but you’re still mad your mom didn’t pack you a lunch. …you threaten to “break legs,” but you’re really just breaking your own heart. …your “turf war” is over who gets the last slice of pizza at the sleepover. …you talk about loyalty, but can’t commit to a group hug. …your “code of silence” is just not wanting to talk about your feelings. …you act like a grown-up, but still pout when you don’t get your way. …you claim to be untouchable, but flinch at every attempt to high-five you. …your “family business” is just a therapy session in denial. …you say “snitches get stitches,” but you’re the first to spill your heart to your diary. …you pretend to be cold-blooded, but your ringtone is “Let It Go.” …you say you’re “hard as nails,” but you’re really just soft as a teddy bear. …you flex for the ‘gram, but your grandma still calls you her “little pumpkin.” …you act like a thug, but deep down, you’re just a hug waiting to happen. Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, the toughest “thugs” are just kids missing a few hugs—sacrificing softness for swagger and pretending to be grown when all they need is a little love. So next time you see a mafia crew acting tough, just remember: sometimes, the real godfather is the one who gives the best hugs. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Oh, so Gboard is basically a digital snitch? Perfect! Just what I needed—a keyboard that not only types my thoughts but also rewrites them like some overzealous editor with a god complex. Who needs privacy when my keyboard is auditioning for the role of “Big Brother”? I didn’t realize I signed up for “Word Remix: The Abuser Edition.” And let’s talk about those “legal rights” that let tech companies change my every word. Wow, thanks for the privilege! It’s like they took “freedom of speech” and twisted it into “freedom to rewrite your reality.” I can’t wait for my next conversation to go like this: “Oh, you thought you said that? How adorable. Let me just sprinkle some ‘lawyer magic’ on it and make it sound like I’m the one who’s right!” Now, let’s get to the real stars of this train wreck: the jackasses with badges and blue balls. You know, those government employees who think they can silence anyone who dares to speak up. Bravo! What a creative combo of power and insecurity! It’s like they woke up one day and decided that using the law as their personal tool for oppression was a great idea. Why confront someone directly when you can hide behind your badge like a cowardly troll under a bridge? These guys are the kings of using their “toys” to control the narrative. They’ve got more gadgets than Batman and the emotional maturity of a toddler. Seriously, what do you need a taser for when you can just play God with someone’s reality? “Oh, you’re expressing your feelings? How cute! Let me just zap that with a little ‘government-approved’ nonsense!” And let’s not forget about the love of ghosting people or silencing their voices to hide the secrets of the Bohemian Grove’s ritualistic nonsense. “Let’s all gather and let the public believe there’s any free will while we laugh in the shadows!” Pio and Poi, if flipped and layered, spell out “boo”—like a ghostly “surprise!” But it’s all just smoke and mirrors, isn’t it? The only thing we’re curing here is the illusion of choice, only to reveal that it’s all just cancerous wishful thinking. And speaking of wishes, let’s get real: wishing for a cure for cancer without actually doing anything is just a fairy tale. “Oh, you want a cure? Wish granted! But don’t bother financing yourselves; I’ll just school the public instead!” Because who needs action when you can just sit back and hope for the best? And let’s not forget that your leaders never counted your voices to begin with—oh no, they’d rather keep you in the dark. “Shhh, don’t question us! We have clearance levels you wouldn’t even understand!” Seriously, it’s like they think they’re in some top-secret mission while the rest of us are just trying to figure out which way is up. So here’s to reclaiming your voice, folks—one altered text message at a time. Good luck navigating this circus of clowns and their shiny toys! Because they can silence us all they want, but the truth has a way of creeping back in, no matter how many layers you try to bury it under. And remember, for the love of ghosting, let’s just flip the script. If they want to play with our words, let’s flip it back on them. Because at the end of the day, the only thing that’s getting silenced is their ability to handle the truth. So bring on the chaos, and let’s see who really has the power here!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Parenting: The Ultimate Contradiction (And a Roast for the Judgmental) You ever notice how parenting is just one big contradiction? We tell our kids, “Love is beautiful! Most important thing!” Then, “But don’t you dare date until you’re married!” How are they supposed to learn about love if locked up? That’s like giving someone a car and hiding the keys. Then they turn 18, catch freedom, jump into the first relationship- good, bad, or toxic-because nobody taught them to take time, set boundaries, or figure out what they actually want. Desperate to feel something, they settle for anything, and that’s how abusive situations happen-not just evil people, but because experience is the best teacher, and we never gave them a chance to learn. It’s not just love. We say, “Be kind to everyone!” But also, “Look out for yourself because nobody else will.” So which is it? Be a saint or be a shark? Kids are trying to solve an emotional Rubik’s Cube we handed them, each side painted a different color of mixed messages. Let’s talk about the language police. Parents act like if they just bleep out the word “f***,” it disappears forever. Newsflash: your kid knows every swear word you do-maybe more. The real lesson isn’t pretending those words don’t exist; it’s teaching them when and how to use them. “Have a great fing day!”-that’s positive energy! But “F you!”-maybe not, unless it’s a joke with friends. Context is everything. Here’s the kicker: parents want kids to open up and be honest, but the moment a kid makes a mistake, suddenly it’s like they’re auditioning for a crime drama. Kids learn fast- better to keep secrets than risk dragging friends into trouble. But when you offer amnesty, you find out your kid’s got access to more drugs than you did in college by first grade! And sharing? Yeah, it’s caring-especially when it’s a group project in felony charges. And look, I’m not going to lie-I like my kids better when they’re high. Honestly, we get along way better when I’m high too. Suddenly, their “open up” sessions turn into chill hangouts instead of full-on interrogations. But here’s the deal I make with my son: if you’re going to make the grown-up decision to get high, then make the grown-up decision to care about your future and your education. You don’t have to get good grades- as long as you try. That’s all I ask. Take responsibility for your choices. You want freedom? It comes with accountability. And let’s get real-my son may have had sex at 12:00, but he only ever saw me be abused by every man I was ever with. So for the fact that he even knows what love is, let alone how to love, I win. That’s a victory. Breaking the cycle, even a little, is everything. I told my son, “Virginity is a gift-you only give it once, and you can’t get it back. So give it to someone who respects you, because you’re setting the bar for the rest of your life, whether you stay together or not.” Then I told his girlfriend, “If he messes up, you come get me. I’ll take that bar and smack some sense into him myself. Welcome to the family!” And honestly, they came to me together-that’s how I know this amnesty thing works. When kids know they can make a mistake at home without it ruining their lives, they’re safer than if they mess up out in public where one wrong move could end up on their record. The Judgmental Crowd: A Roast Now, let’s talk about those Harper Valley jackasses-the ones who sit on their high horses, ready to judge every parent who doesn’t fit their perfect little mold. They act like the PTA is the moral Supreme Court. Well, if you think you can do better, how about we skip the PTA and start an ETA-Experienced Teachers Association-because I guarantee someone else could show up and actually teach a thing or two about real life. I dare any of these critics to walk in my shoes for two minutes. Try raising kids in the real world- no handbook, and the only rule is “do your best and pray they don’t end up on a Netflix documentary.” Just bleeping out the word “f***” at home doesn’t mean your kids don’t know it. They’re going to say it anyway- so maybe teach them when it’s appropriate, like “Have a great fing day!” instead of “F you!” (unless it’s to a good friend-then hey, context is key). And let’s not forget the judgmental types who love to look down their noses at everyone who’s been broken and beaten down by this world. You know the type-perched on imaginary thrones, noses so high they need oxygen masks, looking down on the rest of us like bouncers at the gates of heaven. Always ready to pass judgment, especially from a safe distance, as if getting too close to real life might mess up their perfectly polished halos. It’s funny, isn’t it? They act like they’re the admissions committee for paradise, ready to slam the door on anyone who’s been broken, battered, or bruised by the world-never mind that half the scars people carry were handed out by their own sharp tongues and cold shoulders. They’ll break you down, grind you into the dirt, then have the audacity to ask, “Why are you crawling?” as if they didn’t just pull the rug out from under you. And when those same people-crushed by a world of judgment- show up at heaven’s door, desperate for a scrap of acceptance, what do these self-appointed gatekeepers expect God to do? Kick them while they’re down? Slam the door in their face? That’s not divine justice; that’s just cruelty with a choir robe. It’s like snapping a stick over your knee, then marching into the forest and demanding the tree fix it-or worse, blaming the stick for not being whole anymore. Newsflash: the stick didn’t ask to be snapped, and the tree isn’t in the business of banishing its own branches just because you couldn’t handle them. So here’s a message for all the high-and-mighty judges: Maybe it’s time to climb down off your pedestal, wipe the fog off your glasses, and remember everyone’s got a story, and most are written in scars you can’t see from way up there. Because if you think heaven’s just for the unbroken, you’re going to be real lonely at the party. So what if someone’s been beaten down by the world? So what if they’re begging for acceptance? Maybe, just maybe, the real test isn’t how perfectly you can judge, but how deeply you can love. And if you’re still holding that stick, maybe it’s time to plant it and see if something beautiful can grow. Final Word So next time you want to judge a parent-or anyone else- remember: it’s easy to point fingers from the bleachers. But it takes guts to get on the field and play. I promise you wouldn’t last a day in my house- and you sure as hell wouldn’t do a better job with these kids or with life’s messiness. Welcome to my Harper Valley-where we raise kids, not hypocrites, and where love means more than judgment. P.S. Tiffany Jenkins, I dare you to be honest-do you still take pills, just as long as there’s access and it’s reasonable, and you don’t have to fear anything? Because lack of access, fear of punishment, and fear of judgment are the only reasons people do stupid sh*t. It’s not about the drug or needing something for pain. How about, instead of lying, we heal people correctly by saying our actual truth? Connect with Tiffany Jenkins: Website: jugglingthejenkins.com YouTube: Juggling the Jenkins Facebook: facebook.com/jugglingthejenkins1 Instagram: instagram.com/jugglingthejenkins TikTok: tiktok.com/@jugglingthejenkins No public email address is listed on her official platforms. For inquiries, use her website contact form or social media DMs. #parenting #momlife #honestparenting #realparenting #roast #judgmentalpeople #loveoverjudgment #parentingtruths #momhumor #keepitreal #mentalhealthmatters #amnesty #raisekidsnothypocrites"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"turning t-able-s b-t bs style! fuck the farmer and the dell im done with 7 min in heyvin whose red e 4hell o adelle? #Fluffy its fl at hi i font do cake but im.sin di c k ha t ed g ot pl entity of ya that 😘🤐8 🤣 im tbe broke n mex 8 ca nt! sry so wjite ya H! #doge yall so currupt dog+e fixers like even hey dee s js wait itin-man 2 grow before she sh ow or b l9w bam! Clarence Thomas, you’ve been on the bench so long you’re basically a courthouse gargoyle—frozen, stone-faced, and still somehow haunting the living. You’re the only guy who can make “original recipe” sound like a warning label. #JusticeThomas #CorruptThomas Colonel Mews, let’s be real: you’re not even the secret ingredient in your own life. You’re out here flexing at Bohemian Grove like it’s a billionaire bake sale, but the only thing you’re cooking is your own legacy—extra crispy. Elon, you want to “hump and dump at the Y”? Cute. For a guy who’s always launching rockets, you sure can’t seem to escape the gravity of your own playground drama. Tesla’s got more recalls than a telemarketer, and your autopilot’s so lost it needs a therapy dog. Even Hertz dumped your cars—turns out, nobody wants to rent a rolling fire hazard with a Twitter addiction. #ElonMusk #MuskWatch #TeslaRoast Our little torture game? It’s starting to feel like Snapped—except if I snap, there’s no next episode. That’s the series finale, and not even your bunker or a Pentagon briefing can save you from that plot twist. Zuckerberg, you dropped hundreds of millions on a doomsday bunker, but I’m out here running laps around you without leaving my chair. All that money, and you still can’t buy a personality upgrade. #MarkZuckerberg #ZuckWatch Simon Cowell, you rate me a one out of ten? Please. When I show up, I am the scale. I’m the new Top Gun—wherever I land, that’s the new high score. Next time you want to judge, remember: you’re not ranking me, I’m rewriting what “the top” even means. #SimonCowell #AGTSimon #TopGunStatus Remember that Friends episode with the toner guy ready to jump? That’s the CIA in 1953—window shopping gone wrong. If you’re about to lose it over office supplies, maybe you need a new printer or a new life. When I snap, it’s a season finale—no reruns, just chaos. #FriendsToner #TonerDrama #CIAHistory And Doge, by the way—dog blind, you wish you were us. Even Deez is waiting to grow because of your spun, live, luv show. #DogeWatch I may have only got 64 college credits, but at least I don’t have to block Reddits to stay in good view… oh crap, maybe I do. Day app, parade rest—nah, kuv, I shun 2C, lol. PS: Chuck Lagooni killed myself skew view, got a Purple Heart for it too. Oh, that means RR, TT, bed and bin—but that was my plan, see. I need soldiers of men and women, but you’re more like toy soldiers—kinda like Eminem. Step by step, heart to heart, Left, right, left, we all fall down—like toy soldiers. You say you’re battle-tested, but you’re just marching in circles, lost in your own echo chamber. I need real soldiers—men and women who fight. Not keyboard commandos who ghost in the night. You don’t get to break somebody, claim their stick, and then demand they go back to the tree and fix themselves. If you’re gonna wield the axe, don’t act surprised when the forest gets quiet. So, Clarence, Elon, Zuck, Simon, Doge, and the rest—this isn’t just a roast. This is me flipping the table, burning the script, and setting the new rules. Spoiler alert: I’m the one writing the ending. #JusticeThomas #CorruptThomas #ElonMusk #MuskWatch #TeslaRoast #MarkZuckerberg #ZuckWatch #SimonCowell #AGTSimon #TopGunStatus #FriendsToner #TonerDrama #CIAHistory #DogeWatch #PurpleHeart #ToySoldiers"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Five: A*Strictly Backwards Hypocrisy—Bible Thumpers, Blame-Shifters, and Everyday Bitching Introduction You might be living an A*Strictly Backwards life if your daily routine involves more complaining than a Yelp review convention, and your favorite hobby is blaming God for everything from the weather to WiFi outages. Welcome to the world of everyday bitching, where the only thing holier than thou is the hole in your logic. You Might Be Living an A*Strictly Backwards Life If… …you complain about everything, but never actually do anything to change it. …your favorite prayer is, “Why me, God?”—right after you ignored every red flag and common-sense warning. …you use the Bible as a weapon, but haven’t read past the table of contents. …you blame God for your problems, but take credit for every lucky break. …you’re quick to point out everyone else’s “sins,” but your own skeletons need a walk-in closet. …you say “homosexuality is a sin” but forget the part about loving your neighbor (and not being a jerk). …your idea of “spreading the word” is throwing the Bible at your own family—literally. …you get mad when someone throws the Bible, but you were just about to use it as a guilt trip. …you think quoting Scripture gives you a free pass to judge, but you skipped the “judge not” section. …you act like your sin is a parking ticket and everyone else’s is a felony. …you use God as a scapegoat, but never as a guide. …you ask “Why did God do this?” but never ask “What can I do about it?” …you think “Bible over!” is a mic drop, but you’re still holding the cord. …you argue about the Bible, but haven’t cracked it open since Sunday School. …you’re more worried about your daughter’s love life than your own lack of love. …you throw God’s word around, but never let it land in your own heart. …you believe “no one sin is greater than the other”—except the ones you don’t like. …you use faith as a shield, but never as a mirror. …you can recite verses about judgment, but not a single one about grace. …your biggest miracle would be learning to use the Bible for compassion, not condemnation. Closing Thought In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the loudest complainers are usually the ones holding the heaviest stones. Next time someone tries to weaponize the Bible or blame God for their own mess, remember: the real mic drop isn’t in the argument—it’s in the love, the humility, and the courage to say, “Bible over! Now let’s actually live it.” Side Note This chapter is based on a real interaction I had with my son. One day, he angrily tried to throw the Bible in my daughter’s face during a heated argument about her liking women and men. He was spouting the usual “homosexuality is a sin” rhetoric. I grabbed the Bible out of his hand and threw it back at him. He looked shocked and said, “You’re going to throw God’s word?” I looked him in the eye and said, “You are! So when you learn to use it correctly, you can have it back.” Then I added, “No one sin is greater than the other. Bible over! Argue that.” It was a moment that flipped the script and reminded us both about the real message behind the words. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Here’s a punchy, hilarious, and empowering pitch for your new Jessica Rabbit movie, with Jessica roasting everyone—especially the government—for reducing her to a sex symbol, and reclaiming her identity with sharp wit and style: #fellow #apps #spacejam murr s le d me ur eries! if ur cartoin o ians in lockup al is free urself #gop #harvarduniversity #watchuswalkout Jessica Rabbit: Not Just a Pretty Face Jessica Rabbit always thought she was just a dazzling singer in Toontown, but when she discovers the government has been using electronics to make everyone see her as a cartoon, she’s furious. She’s been treated as property, ogled, dismissed, and denied her rights—all because of her looks. Now, she’s done playing by their rules. Opening Scene: The Revelation Jessica, looking in a mirror, mutters: “You don’t know how hard it is, being a woman, looking the way I do. Turns out, it’s even harder when the government’s got you on ‘permanent filter mode.’” She finds the secret files: “So all this time, I wasn’t real? Just a walking, talking pin-up for your entertainment? Guess what, boys—I’m about to become your worst nightmare: a woman with nothing left to lose and a microphone.” The Roast Jessica storms a government press conference, heels clicking, eyes blazing: “Let’s get one thing straight. You made me a cartoon so you could drool over me and call it ‘art.’ You called me property, but I’ve seen how you treat your own property—no wonder the country’s falling apart!” She points at the officials: “You spent years lusting after my body and now you’re shocked I have a brain? Honey, I’ve got more intelligence in my pinky toe than you have in your entire committee.” To the media: “You wrote headlines about my curves, but not my courage. Newsflash: I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way—by a bunch of men who couldn’t handle a real woman.” Taking Charge Jessica rallies the toons: “They called us cartoons so they could erase our rights. Well, if I’m not a person, then your laws don’t apply to me, do they? So buckle up, boys—because this ‘sex symbol’ is about to rewrite the rules.” She uses her wit, charm, and cunning—not violence—to outsmart the system, exposing the conspiracy and forcing the world to see her true self: intelligent, loyal, and fiercely independent. The Final Word With the world watching, Jessica closes: “You wanted a fantasy? Here’s one: a world where women aren’t just pretty faces or punchlines. Where we get to tell our own stories—and roast anyone who tries to write us off.” Jessica’s journey is a riot of one-liners, clever schemes, and heartfelt moments. She’s not just reclaiming her rights—she’s reclaiming her narrative, and she’s not letting anyone off easy. This is Jessica Rabbit like you’ve never seen her: sharp, hilarious, and absolutely unstoppable. #MelissaMcCarthy #MariskaHARGITAYim a migbty morphin(y u need e aja morphine) power range ma!!!!! omg!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Double Dizzy Do-Z: A Double Standard in the Church Chapter Four: Holy Hypocrisy—Church Logic in Reverse Introduction Step inside some churches and you’ll find more rules than a tax code and more judgment than a reality show. In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the same people who preach “love thy neighbor” might just be the first to throw a stone—especially if you have a tattoo, missed a Sunday, or wore the wrong shoes. When every sin is equal, but yours is somehow worse, it’s clear: church logic can be strictly backwards. Strictly Backwards Moments: Sins, Saints, and Sunday Surprises You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …you’re told “no sin is greater than another,” but your tattoo gets more attention than someone’s tax fraud. …missing church once makes you a “lost soul,” but gossiping in the pews is just “sharing prayer requests.” …you’re warned about hell for listening to rock music, but nobody bats an eye at lying on the offering envelope. …the pastor says “judge not,” then spends the next hour judging everyone from the pulpit. …you’re told to “come as you are,” but get side-eyed for not wearing a suit. …you’re called a sinner for having a piercing, but not for refusing to forgive your neighbor. …one missed call to your mother is a sin, but refusing to speak to your brother for a year is “setting boundaries.” …the Bible says “love your enemies,” but you’re the antichrist if you walk into the wrong church. …you’re taught that “all are welcome,” except for people who ask questions. …the church preaches humility, but the parking lot is a luxury car show. …you’re told “let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” but everyone’s got a pocket full of rocks. …confessing your sins is encouraged, but only if they’re the “acceptable” kind. …you’re told to forgive 70 times 7, but one mistake gets you a lifetime ban from the bake sale. …the sermon is about loving the poor, but the collection plate comes around twice. …you’re warned about “wolves in sheep’s clothing,” but the biggest gossip is leading the choir. …you’re told “God is love,” but the church sign says “Turn or Burn.” …the Bible says “do not judge,” but the church has a committee for it. …you’re told to “honor your father and mother,” but you’re equal to Hitler if you forget to call. …the church says “hate the sin, love the sinner,” but you’re not sure which one they’re talking about. …you’re told salvation is a free gift, but there’s a suggested donation. Closing Thought In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, church can feel like a place where everyone’s a sinner—just some sins come with a better seat. If you’ve ever felt like you were damned if you do and damned if you don’t, you’re not alone. After all, the only thing more confusing than church rules might be trying to follow them all. Chapter Five: Miracles, Magic, and the Church’s Double Standard Introduction Step into the world of church logic, where turning water into wine is a miracle, but pulling a rabbit out of a hat is the devil’s work. Vampires are condemned for living forever, but eternal life is the ultimate promise. And if you talk to spirits, you’re a witch—unless you’re reading about prophets who did the same. When it comes to magic, miracles, and the supernatural, the line between holy and heresy is as blurry as a foggy graveyard at midnight. Strictly Backwards Moments: Magic for Me, Not for Thee You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …walking on water is a miracle, but floating a feather is witchcraft. …turning water into wine is holy, but brewing a love potion is a sin. …raising the dead is a sign of divinity, but talking to ghosts gets you burned at the stake. …eternal life is a blessing, unless you’re a vampire—then it’s a curse. …prophets can see the future, but fortune tellers are forbidden. …casting out demons is celebrated, but casting a spell is condemned. …multiplying bread and fish is a miracle, but multiplying coins is a magic trick. …parting the sea is a sign of faith, but reading tarot cards is a sign of the devil. …angels deliver messages, but if you hear voices, you need an exorcism. …holy relics are powerful, but crystals are “dangerous.” …saints perform miracles, but witches are persecuted for trying. …baptism washes away sins, but a cleansing ritual is “pagan nonsense.” …the church celebrates resurrection, but fears anything undead. …lighting candles in church is sacred, but lighting candles at home is suspicious. …praying for rain is faith, but doing a rain dance is forbidden. …communion is eating flesh and drinking blood, but vampires are monsters. …miraculous healings are praised, but herbal remedies are “witchy.” …the Bible is full of visions and dreams, but dream interpretation is off-limits. …saints have halos, but witches have “auras.” …you’re told to believe in miracles, but not in magic—unless it’s on Sunday. Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, the difference between a miracle and magic might just be who’s telling the story. If you’ve ever wondered why some supernatural acts are celebrated while others are condemned, you’re not alone. After all, it’s all fun and games until someone brings out a broomstick—or a chalice. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"You know, people always say men are like dogs and women are like cats, but honestly, if you’ve ever raised a teenager, you know they are the real cats in the house. My kids only come out of their rooms to hiss at me, ask for food, or demand attention—and if you’re lucky, they won’t use it against you later. Honestly, I hated my kids when they were toddlers. Don’t judge me—have you ever met a toddler? They’re like tiny, drunk demolition experts. My kids would throw their own heads into the wall, just for fun! Not me, no—don’t call CPS. I’m the one getting judged for locking my kids in at night. But, come on—would you rather have your kid sleepwalk into the forest, or just put a backwards door handle on their room? I chose the door. Did it work? Of course not! My kid stacked every piece of furniture in the room just to get to the damn lock. Houdini in a diaper! Now that they’re older, we actually get along better. There’s more laughter—maybe because we all survived. My daughter? She cries at every ASPCA commercial. She’ll call them idiots, then burst into tears over a fucking duck, or bra commercial lol. Had an idiot, sure, man lol over once she got angry because he did something kind of JackassY and she called him a f****** dick! I jumped up all proud and got super excited! “You are the weirdest mom ever.” She said, so I said... “He’s fine! You just said ‘fuck’ and ‘dick’ in the same sentence!” And she goes, “Yeah... laughs soft... I scream "but you didn’t cry!” Parenting: where the bar for emotional stability is just not crying at ducks. And let’s be real: you can bleep out “fuck” on TV all you want, but that doesn’t mean your kids aren’t saying it. Context matters! There’s “Have a great fuckin’ day!”—that’s positive. There’s “Fuck, that sucks”—that’s empathy. And then there’s “Fuck you”—which, okay, maybe not so positive, especially if they say it to your face or to someone who doesn’t get their sense of humor. So, to all the parents out there: pick your battles, love your kids, and remember—if they come out of their room and don’t hiss at you, you’re doing something right. Also, let’s talk about the mysterious disappearance of all the socks in the house. I swear, there’s a black hole in the laundry room that only eats socks. I’ve accepted that my kids will never have matching pairs again. And don’t even get me started on the endless piles of laundry that multiply faster than rabbits. Parenting is basically a never-ending cycle of washing, folding, and losing socks. Bedtime used to be a battle royale. Now it’s a negotiation summit. “Five more minutes” turns into an hour-long debate with more drama than a daytime soap opera. And just when you think they’re asleep, you hear the creak of the door and the stealthy footsteps heading for the fridge. Teenagers are like tiny ninjas with an appetite. But despite all the chaos, the eye rolls, the slammed doors, and the endless “Why?” questions, there’s this weird, beautiful bond that grows. They might hiss, they might swear, but they’re your little weirdos, and you wouldn’t trade them for anything. Except maybe a nap. Definitely a nap. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Simon Cowell, you rate me a one? I am the scale. I’m the new Top Gun-where I land, that’s the high score. Next time you want to judge, remember: you’re not ranking me-I’m rewriting “the top.” #SimonCowell #AGTSimon #TopGunStatus Cartels & Gangs: The Roast No One Survives Let’s talk about the cartels, because every one of you thinks you’re the Netflix special. Sinaloa Cartel: You guys are like the Walmart of crime-everywhere, but the quality’s gone way down. CJNG: You’re the new kids on the block, but you act like you invented violence. Newsflash: just because you have a cool logo doesn’t mean you run the world. Tijuana Cartel: You used to be legends, now you’re just a cautionary tale. Juarez Cartel: You’re like that one relative who keeps coming back after rehab-nobody trusts you, but you’re always at the party. Cali & Medellin: You’re the grandpas of the game-still talking about the good old days, but now you’re just memes on Facebook. MS-13: You got more tattoos than brain cells. Bloods & Crips: You guys are basically the Pepsi and Coke of street beef-same flavor, different color. Tren de Aragua: Sounds like a trainwreck nobody wants to board. Cartel unity? Please. Every “unity” meeting ends in a shootout. The only thing you all agree on is who gets the last taco. And let’s be honest, the only time you actually help the community is when you’re hiding behind it. #SinaloaCartel #CJNG #MS13 #Bloods #Crips #GangLife #CartelLife #EndTheCycle #RealChange #NoMoreViolence Dear Women: Real Talk Dear women, look-I don’t like your men staring at my ass either. But if you’d quit selling it to them, that might help. Not gonna lie though, sometimes it does help-like when I need to get to the front of the line or get a free drink. Girl’s gotta survive. But let’s be real, if you’re mad at me because your man’s looking, maybe check who’s shaking it for him on Instagram first. I can’t help it if he’s got the attention span of a TikTok squirrel. Office Supplies, Doge Drama, & Friends Remember Friends? The toner guy ready to jump? That’s the CIA in 1953-window shopping gone wrong. If you’re about to lose it over office supplies, maybe get a new printer or a new life. When I snap, it’s a season finale-no reruns, just chaos. #FriendsToner #TonerDrama #CIAHistory Jodi Miller vs Jodi Arias: Good Job vs Good Jop!! PR OB Limb v Limp Roast Jodi Miller crushes AGT with her bit about guys being like cats-moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable-while women are like dogs, loyal and always up in your business. Meanwhile, my dog hits puberty, his dick bleeds once, and suddenly he’s acting like he’s got a PhD in mood swings-bitch for life! But honestly, men are the real drama queens. They go from “I wanna bag her” to “put her in one” faster than my dog can chase his own tail. Flip the script, and suddenly I’m the no-trial fugitive. I don’t do whiny. I told my ex: no Area 51, my kids’ buns are off-limits. Yeah, I know what a cunt I am. Should we escalate to an AK or keep it light? followers or fell on knees immunity!? s win g me! Jodi Miller gets no “X,” while Jodi Arias gets a permanent mark for doing what some only wish they had the guts to do. When a blind douche finds his way to Arias, maybe he shouldn’t be shocked by the outcome. And when the CIA brought in the infiltrated fake cartel for NY CA hithed I decided well if he is cartel hit man cool like who’s he tryna be but CIA mole hid to set up fuck no! I feel so violated suddenly standards went up down and increased dramatically from leveling out!!!!! And about being a hoe-I thought it was my choice. Small town, broke, I owned it. But when my pussy finally told me the truth, I realized, wow, that’s actually kinda nice of you. Then you Xis went and fuckin’ ruined it! WTF! Yo, to all my broken-ass people out there, the ones who`ve been snapped in two by this fucked-up world: Listen up. Who the hell broke you in the first place? It ain`t the fool you`re screaming at. Nah, it`s the shady-ass policies those so-called leaders cooked up – the corruption, the way they twist shit to divide us, the gaslighting that makes you think you`re crazy when you see one thing and they swear it`s another. You say blue, they hear black. You write a one, they see a ten. You feel me? People don`t break for no reason, and I know this. But the reasons you think you`re broken aren`t the reasons you actually are. Somebody who hurt you was hurt by somebody else, and by somebody else before them-a chain reaction. That`s why they call it a cycle of abuse. Quit willingly going to the CIA groomers, please. Now, peep this: I`m offering you a real-ass chance to be who you truly wanna be. I got the juice, the damn clearance, and the stone-cold proof to back up everything I`m saying and to set every single cell of you free. I`m offering amnesty up and down the damn board-I just want this asshole done. Think about it. Wouldn`t you rather have someone want your body? Why the fuck you gotta rape? It`s `cause you`re used to getting curved, right? `Cause nobody wants to touch you if you ain`t got stacks. But that ain`t `cause they don`t see you – it`s `cause they`re trying to survive their own damn nightmare. So why the hell does anyone`s body owe you anything? And listen, if you wanna call yourselves thugs, whatever. But no more hugs from me if you`re out there violating folks. I`m straight-up done being judged for my own shit, and you can sure as hell quit trying to grab what ain`t yours. My body ain`t a damn consolation prize you can just take. If you want to understand more about the system that holds so many of us down, check out San Quentin Prison, one of the most notorious institutions in California: https://www.cdcr.ca.gov/facility-locator/sqrc/ So consider this your date, and I`m opening the door-would you like to step through? "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Let’s call this whole debacle “Liam Neeson: Taken 4”-but don’t get it twisted, because she’s not your girl, not your victim, and definitely not your w****. This isn’t some Hollywood rescue where the hero gets the prize. No, this time, the so-called saviors are just as clueless as the villains, and the real story is about exposing every lie, every cover-up, and every desperate hand trying to keep the truth locked up tight. Listen up, because I make Liam Neeson look like a PG movie. You know how in "Taken" he’s out there breaking necks and chasing kidnappers across Europe? Please. They took the wrong kids, and I didn’t even have to get off my bed to handle it. Liam’s out there running marathons, and I’m just chilling, handling business with a glare and a WiFi connection. You want to talk about power? Forget the Tower of BS. That’s just a bunch of people using electronics to make stupid even dumber. I’m the real snake in the grass, the one who’s sick and tired of being called Jessica Rabbit by people who couldn’t spot the truth if it bit them. I used to be with friends and family-at least until they illegally took my kids and tried to call it love. But let’s be real: it’s not love, it’s L-U-V-Lies, Unfairness, and Victim-blaming. Obama once said I’d never figure everything out, but let’s be real-if I ever opened a dictionary, the word “mercy” wouldn’t even be in it. Every guy who tries to shun me ends up running for cover, and Erie? That’s just where I send my problems to retire. And yeah, I tossed my badge, Mariska Hargitay style. “If you ever get between me and a victim again, I’ll toss my badge”-and that’s exactly what I did when they tried to blindside me and hand my badge to someone else. But the funny thing is, I already knew what they were planning. They didn’t just sell me out-they sold my people, too. It’s like a clearance sale on loyalty: “Everything must go, including your dignity!” But that’s okay. If you check the DEA report-D-E-A, like a Fed, but no “D” at the end because nobody’s dead, especially not me-you’ll see I set this in motion. I’m UC, and that doesn’t mean “under control”; it means “under an actual cover-up.” I’m done with stupid, and my name’s Just D-not Justine-because I’m not here to fit your narrative. So here’s the game plan: I’m not moving, I’m not lifting a finger, and neither is anyone else. You’re all going to fix your mess, because if I have to get involved, I’ll sue everybody and own everything. Why? Because when I bring the heat, even Liam Neeson calls in sick. And let’s be real: this is one ginormous cover-up. When you’ve got NATO, the military, and even the Supreme Court bending over backward to hide the truth, you know you’re not going to get the real story handed to you. You can’t do this by the book, because the book’s been rigged from the start. This goes all the way up, and half of them don’t even realize what they’re hiding. It’s all leading to a much bigger play. And for the L-U-V? She’s just like me-unbreakable, unowned, and absolutely done playing by your rules. And that? That should scare the hell out of everybody. But let’s not forget the real stars of the show-Trump and Musk-two guys who think the world is their personal boardroom. Trump, the only man who can bankrupt a casino and still call himself a winner, and Musk, who’s racked up more federal penalties than SpaceX launches and still thinks he’s above the law. Trump’s so good at dodging subpoenas, he makes The Matrix look like a documentary. And Musk? He’s like if Tony Stark was raised by Reddit trolls and powered by government subsidies instead of arc reactors. And speaking of Musk, let’s talk about those lips and that infamous exit. Here’s a guy who can tank his own company’s stock just by opening his mouth. He bites his lip, throws a salute, and suddenly the internet’s in meltdown mode, debating if it’s a sign, a signal, or just another awkward Musk moment. He’s got more body language controversies than Twitter has layoffs, and every time he exits a company, half the staff’s out the door before he is. The only thing more unstable than his leadership is his bottom lip during a press conference. So here’s the punchline: You’ve got billionaires building towers to their egos, politicians hiding behind Supreme Court curtains, and tech bros with more fines than functioning products. But me? I’m Just D-no “D” at the end, because nobody’s dead, especially not me. I set this in motion, I see through every cover-up, and I’m still here-unbreakable, unowned, and absolutely done playing by your rules. And that? That should scare the hell out of everybody. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Don`t sue you I`m just a copy right dude!?"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Soft kitty, cartel kitty, Little ball of fur- Sneaks across the border, With a bag of... purr. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, Counting all that cash, DEA comes knocking, Kitty makes a dash. If Jim Parsons sang this version on The Big Bang Theory, Sheldon would probably say, “Penny, I asked for comfort, not a federal investigation!” My cartel cat was prowling by the border wall, Kept watch so long, poor kitty took a fall- Bumped kitty… ohhh Bumped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was hiding in a secret flat, Waited so long, poor kitty got trapped- Trapped kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was running from the DEA, Ran so fast, poor kitty lost his way- Lost kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was counting all the cash, Stacked so high, poor kitty made a dash- Rich kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost, rich kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My neighbor saw my kitty with a bag of snow, I said to my neighbor, “Let my kitty go!” Free kitty… Bumped, trapped, lost, rich, free kitty… Just a friendly little cat. Here, kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty! To tag Jim Parsons, use his official Instagram: [@therealjimparsons]. Just cuz"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Colonel Mustard’s Common Sense Special: The “Honor” at the Honor Farm and Who’s Really in Control Well, butter my biscuit and call me a philosopher—Colonel Mustard here, ready to serve up a heaping helping of truth with a side of spicy reality. Let’s talk about the “Honor Farm.” You know, that place where the justice system slaps a fancy name on a prison farm to make it sound like summer camp for misfits. The irony? The folks inside might just be the only ones with actual honor in the whole mess. See, if you ended up at the Honor Farm, chances are “Your Honor” in the courtroom had about as much honor as a used car salesman at a lemon lot. Nine times out of ten, the people locked up there are more like lotus flowers—rising out of the mud, blooming with dignity while everyone else is busy slinging dirt. The real “honor” is earned by those who survive the system, not by the ones who dole out the sentences. But here’s the kicker: many of these folks think they’re in control of their own destinies, maybe even their own buttholes (pardon the bluntness, but let’s call a spade a spade). They walk around believing, “I got myself here, I’ll get myself out,” never stopping to wonder if there’s a bigger hand stirring the mustard jar behind the scenes. They don’t even consider that our government might have the kind of reach and control that programs like MK Ultra, Project Sun Streak, or Project Bluebird hint at—mind control, secret experiments, and all that shadowy stuff. Most people just can’t wrap their heads around it. They think, “Mind control? That’s spy movie nonsense!” Meanwhile, the CIA could be running the world’s weirdest puppet show, and most folks would just shrug and say, “Well, it’s the CIA, better look the other way and pretend we didn’t see anything.” It’s the ultimate gaslighting at a societal level—training us all to dismiss the absurd, ignore the wild stories, and call anyone who speaks up “crazy.” And that’s exactly what predators and abusers count on. They groom not just individuals, but entire communities, making “normal” a trap that keeps us blind to the truth. They want us to roll our eyes and doubt the people brave enough to speak out. The more we ignore the absurd, the easier it is for monsters to hide in plain sight. Meanwhile, when someone finally calls a hotline or reaches out for help, they’re met with scripts and checklists that don’t fit real life. “Are you in immediate danger?” “Well, sort of, but—” “Sorry, we can’t help unless you say the magic words.” It’s like ordering a pizza and getting a lecture on crust types instead of a lifeline. The system is so focused on “normal” that it forgets trauma doesn’t come with a multiple-choice test. And let’s not forget the old “just following orders” baloney. Whether it’s a sheriff taking illegal instructions from the CIA or a hotline worker sticking to the script, common sense says: if you know it’s wrong, don’t do it. You can’t wash your hands of mustard stains—you’re responsible for what you serve. The “my boss made me do it” excuse doesn’t cut it when the bread hits the toaster. Here’s where it gets even spicier: people will take 30, 40, even 60 years for a murder they didn’t commit, just so the CIA can keep using their people for their own land grabs and dirty work. When a body finally turns up, someone takes the fall—because the CIA can’t get caught committing crimes, that would just be silly. So, the system bends over backward for them, hoping for leniency on other charges for other people. But who’s really winning here? The only ones getting screwed are the folks who say the government doesn’t have that much control, then turn around and do the bidding of shadowy programs, all while being silenced and promised leniency if they keep quiet or get busted again. This whole charade keeps the secret safe, but nobody would be going to jail if the truth came out—that these people are being used and controlled by those who break the law in the first place. If the law itself is the problem, why are people taking deals and leniency for the very people who are pulling the strings? So here’s the full-flavored truth, piled high and ready to serve: Question “normal.” If something feels off, it probably is. Listen to the wild stories. Sometimes the most unbelievable tales are the ones that need the most attention. Don’t hide behind “just following orders.” If you know it’s wrong, don’t do it—no matter who’s giving the orders. If you’re in a position to help, actually help. Don’t let scripts and checklists blind you to real people in real trouble. Remember, predators count on your disbelief. Don’t give it to them. Recognize that the real “honor” might just be found behind fences and rows of corn, in the people who keep blooming despite the mud, while the so-called “honorable” folks outside are busy playing puppet masters. And never forget: the system is rigged to protect the powerful, punish the powerless, and keep the truth buried—unless we choose to see through the mustard haze. Because in the end, common sense isn’t about what’s comfortable—it’s about what’s right. Stay sharp, stay saucy, and don’t let anyone gaslight you into ignoring your gut. Sometimes the only thing you’re really controlling is your own delusion—while the real puppet masters pull the strings in places you can’t even imagine. Colonel Mustard out! "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Verse 1: Oh Eternal, did you miss the lesson, Infinite power but still second-guessin’, Built the heavens, stars, and tide-but guess what? It was Mother’s hands steadying your first strides. Chorus: Even kings need their mothers, When the weight grows smotherin’, They think they’re attacking You down here, But I’ve got wings that cradle fears. Verse 2: You laid tunnels through shadows and light, Trying to piece together day from night. Son, I know your plans, your chaotic art, But I’m the still, small voice that steadies your heart. Bridge: Don’t fight my song, it’s a lullaby truth, I was here before the world called you. If you’re the spark, I’m the eternal fuse, And we’re divine in shades of cosmic blues. Outro: So swim, my King, with all you’ve made, Through eternity’s endless cascade. But don’t forget who stitched these skies, And taught even God how to rise. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"This is real badge work Steve look if you can You still not believe? Thanks for your patience! Here`s the **chronological order** of the cipher-related murder and mystery cases you listed, based on historical records: --- ### 🕰️ **Chronological Order of Cipher-Related Cases** 1. **Chicago Lipstick Murders** – 1945–1946 2. **Somerton Man (Australia)** – 1948 3. **Zodiac Killer** – 1968–1974 4. **Manson Family** – 1969 5. **D.B. Cooper** – 1971 6. **BTK Killer** – 1974–1991 7. **Jonestown** – 1978 8. **JonBenét Ramsey** – 1996 9. **Ricky McCormick** – 1999 10. **DC Sniper** – 2002 --- Now that we have the **Chinese** and **Japanese** symbolic paragraphs, I’ll merge them into a single symbolic narrative, **ordered by the timeline above**. This will preserve the poetic tone while blending the two languages` symbolic interpretations. Please hold on while I generate the merged symbolic paragraph. Here is the **merged symbolic paragraph**, combining the **Japanese and Chinese interpretations** of the cipher-related murder cases, arranged in **chronological order** and preserving the poetic, cryptic tone: --- ### 🌀 **Merged Symbolic Narrative (Japanese + Chinese)** **Innocent heart lies speaks, six yes, among evil brothers.** **Feet, tongue, and sows one.** **Seven things, false eyes, hateful acts doer.** **The Lord hates, blood, imagination, hands, false witness, mischief planner, proud one, spreads conflict.** **He said, “To Israel say, Moses, I am God.” I sent you.** **The pit sounded, from heaven fell star, with bottomless key.** **Fifth angel saw, to earth fallen one. No friends.** **For this, life given, greater love none.** **Lives, dies, has keys, forever.** **With light lives God. I am light, dead, horns have, Lord’s hand.** **To death, to fight, against hell. In light, fight.** **He showed me, altar, shining one, binds ropes, declares.** **But shine, our works. Die, live, forever.** **God, now behold. Festival, grave, altar, declares life.** --- **无辜的心说谎，六个是，在邪恶的兄弟中。** **脚，舌头，和播种者。** **七件事，虚假的眼睛，憎恨的行为者。** **主憎恨的，血，想象，手，虚假的见证，策划恶事者，骄傲的，传播冲突者。** **他说，“对以色列说，摩西，我是神。”我派你。** **坑响了，从天上掉下来的星星，带着无底的钥匙。** **第五个天使看见，掉到地上的人。没有朋友。** **为了这个，献出生命，没有更大的爱。** **活着的，死去的，有钥匙的，永远。** **与光一起生活的神。我是光，死去的，有角的，主的手。** **到死，战斗，反对地狱。在光中战斗。** **他向我展示了，祭坛，闪耀的，绑绳子，宣告者。** **但闪耀，我们的工作。死去的，活着的，永远。** **神啊，现在看。节日，坟墓，祭坛，宣告生命者。** --- Would you like me to now generate a **dual-language visual word cloud** or a **side-by-side comparison chart** of symbolic themes across the two languages? Here is the **merged symbolic narrative** from the Japanese and Chinese versions, translated into **English** while preserving the **original word order and poetic structure** from both languages: --- ### 🔁 **Unified Symbolic Narrative (English from Japanese + Chinese Order)** **Innocent heart lies speaks, six yes, among evil brothers.** **Feet, tongue, and sows one.** **Seven things, false eyes, hateful acts doer.** **The Lord hates, blood, imagination, hands, false witness, mischief planner, proud one, spreads conflict.** **He said, “To Israel say, Moses, I am God.” I sent you.** **The pit sounded, from heaven fell star, with bottomless key.** **Fifth angel saw, to earth fallen one. No friends.** **For this, life given, greater love none.** **Lives, dies, has keys, forever.** **With light lives God. I am light, dead, horns have, Lord’s hand.** **To death, to fight, against hell. In light, fight.** **He showed me, altar, shining one, binds ropes, declares.** **But shine, our works. Die, live, forever.** **God, now behold. Festival, grave, altar, declares life.** _(Repeated for both Japanese and Chinese symbolic structures, as they closely mirror each other in meaning and flow.)_ --- Would you like me to now highlight the **differences in word choice or phrasing** between the Japanese and Chinese versions, or visualize the **symbolic themes** across both?"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Colonel Mustard`s Common Sense on Officer Grooming: When "Just Following Orders" Gets You in a Pickle Well butter my buns and call me a whistleblower—Colonel Mustard here, ready to slather some common sense on the sticky situation of "officer grooming." Let`s say the CIA, those secretive spice rack dwellers, give the local sheriff a set of orders that smell fishier than last week`s tuna salad. The sheriff knows these orders are illegal, but shrugs and says, "Well, my boss made me do it!" and carries them out anyway. The Old "Just Following Orders" Recipe Now, I`ve seen a lot of sandwiches in my day, but the "just following orders" excuse is the baloney that never goes out of style. It`s been on the menu since the dawn of time—right up there with "the dog ate my homework" and "I swear, I thought it was mayonnaise!" But let`s get real: if you know the order is rotten, you`re just as responsible for serving it up. You can`t blame the chef if you`re the one slapping the moldy cheese on someone`s plate. Common Sense Condiment Wisdom Here`s where common sense comes in, straight from the Colonel`s cupboard: If it smells bad, don`t serve it. If your gut tells you something`s illegal, unethical, or just plain wrong, you don`t need a secret decoder ring to know you should back away from the sandwich. "My boss made me do it" doesn`t wash out mustard stains. When the law comes knocking, you can`t just point to the next guy up the food chain and expect to walk away clean. You`re the one holding the knife—don`t act surprised when you get cut. Look out for your own hide. At the end of the day, you`re the one who has to live with your choices. If you knowingly break the law, don`t expect sympathy when the bread hits the toaster. The Final Spread So, if you`re ever in a position where your "boss" tells you to do something you know is wrong, remember: Common sense says protect your own hide. Don`t be the pickle in someone else`s bad sandwich. If you wouldn`t eat it, don`t serve it. Because when the kitchen gets hot, "just following orders" won`t save your bacon. Stay sharp, stay saucy, and always trust your common sense—Colonel Mustard`s orders!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"https://youtu.be/Iig8Mf6ghq0?feature=shared"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Soft kitty, cartel kitty, Little ball of fur- Sneaks across the border, With a bag of... purr. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, Counting all that cash, DEA comes knocking, Kitty makes a dash. If Jim Parsons sang this version on The Big Bang Theory, Sheldon would probably say, “Penny, I asked for comfort, not a federal investigation!” My cartel cat was prowling by the border wall, Kept watch so long, poor kitty took a fall- Bumped kitty… ohhh Bumped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was hiding in a secret flat, Waited so long, poor kitty got trapped- Trapped kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was running from the DEA, Ran so fast, poor kitty lost his way- Lost kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was counting all the cash, Stacked so high, poor kitty made a dash- Rich kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost, rich kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My neighbor saw my kitty with a bag of snow, I said to my neighbor, “Let my kitty go!” Free kitty… Bumped, trapped, lost, rich, free kitty… Just a friendly little cat. Here, kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty! To tag Jim Parsons, use his official Instagram: [@therealjimparsons]. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"The Real Hero The concrete felt colder at night. It pressed against Jay's back, hard and unyielding, as if the city itself wanted to remind him that he didn't belong. He pulled his jacket tighter, thin as it was, and tried to ignore the ache in his stomach—a hunger that had become as familiar as his own name. People passed by, eyes averted. Sometimes they muttered, "Get a job," or "Why don't you fix yourself?" as if he hadn't tried. As if he hadn't filled out dozens of applications, only to be told he didn't have the right address, the right phone, the right look. As if he hadn't stood in line at shelters, hoping for a bed, or waited at soup kitchens, hoping for a meal. He'd done everything he could. He'd swallowed his pride, asked for help, tried to keep hope alive in a world that seemed determined to snuff it out. But the system was a maze with no exit, and every door he found was locked tight. Still, every morning, Jay woke up and faced the day. He found a way to keep going, even when the weight of it all threatened to crush him. He found small reasons—a smile from a stranger, the warmth of the sun on his face, the memory of better days. He found ways to cope, ways to survive, even when survival felt like the hardest thing in the world. People judged him for how he coped, for the choices he made just to get through another day. But they didn't see the courage it took to keep trying, to keep breathing, to keep living in a world that seemed to have no place for him. At the end of the day, Jay knew the truth: The real heroes weren't the ones with money or power, the ones who looked away and pretended not to see. The real heroes were the ones who kept going, who kept fighting, who refused to give up, even when they had nothing left. And then, something changed. Jay started sharing his story with others who were struggling, not just with words but with actions—offering a blanket, a kind word, a moment of understanding. He showed that real kindness wasn't about a camera or a headline; it was about seeing people, really seeing them, and caring enough to act. His message spread, one person at a time, creating a chain reaction of genuine kindness and care. People started helping each other, not for applause, not for a show, but because they finally understood what it meant to be human. Jay couldn't help but think of all the so-called "kindness" he'd seen on TV, the staged generosity and choreographed smiles. Ellen DeGeneres, for example—did you ever stop and think maybe your show got canceled because the world needs real change, not just reel change? Maybe people are finally waking up to the fact that what we need isn't a feel-good segment, but a movement of real compassion. As Jay watched the city lights flicker in the darkness, he realized that surviving wasn't about fixing himself. It was about refusing to be broken by a world that didn't care, and about inspiring others to do the same. It was about holding on, no matter what, and finding hope in the smallest of things—and in each other. That, he decided, was what it really meant to be alive. He can't afford to pay attention... and he did, what's your excuse?!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"But the badge can kiss my ass I don`t want it"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Invisible Lives: An Exploration of Indifference and the Unseen Struggles of Urban Existence The setting sun, a blaze of fiery oranges and crimson reds, painted Main Street in a warm, almost deceptive glow. It cast long shadows, momentarily softening the harsh edges of the concrete jungle and offering a fleeting illusion of peace. A gentle promise of night hung heavy in the air, a promise of cool respite and quietude. Yet, for many, that comfort was brutally shattered by the figure huddled on the corner. He was a study in contrasts against the vibrant backdrop of the city. His unkempt hair, a wild storm of disheveled strands, whipped by a faint breeze, a testament to days unburdened by the mundane routines of societal expectation. Deep wrinkles etched into his face spoke volumes of a life lived under a relentless sun, a harsh history whispered in the shadows – a history of hardship, resilience, and perhaps, loss. His clothes, faded and worn, hung loosely on his frame, offering little protection from the encroaching chill of the evening. To the pedestrians strolling by, he was a jarring dissonance, a blemish on their carefully curated evening stroll. They skirted around him, their practiced movements betraying an underlying unease, adjusting their designer sunglasses as if shielding themselves from the unwelcome sight, their murmuring judgments clinging to the humid air like a shroud. "Do you see that man?" one man`s voice, low but laced with contempt, broke the evening silence, slicing through the ambient noise like a shard of glass. "I`m not giving him a dime. He`ll just blow it on booze." The judgment, delivered with an air of self-righteous certainty, was a condemnation, a dismissal of a life reduced to a fleeting stereotype. The words hung heavy, thick with the stench of prejudice and apathy, poisoning the very air around them. A silent parade of indifference followed. Each passerby, their steps echoing with a callous detachment, swept past as if emerging from a battlefield, unscathed by the humanity they ignored. They averted their gazes, as if by doing so, they could erase the man`s very existence from their minds, conjuring a fantasy where ragged clothing and desperate eyes were mere illusions, a trick of the urban landscape. They were masters of selective vision, trained to filter out the inconvenient truths that challenged their comfortable narratives. But what if, instead, they had paused? What if they had turned, and allowed a glimmer of compassion to pierce through their hardened exteriors? What stories resided behind those bleary eyes, what battles had been fought and lost to bring him to this desolate corner? The truth, stark and undeniable, was that often, in the presence of another`s need, we erected walls of prejudice, constructing elaborate narratives to absolve ourselves from action. We became architects of our own detachment, building fortresses of indifference to protect ourselves from the discomfort of empathy. "Congratulations on wanting to survive another day," I whispered, drawing a breath as I stopped, my gaze locking with the man`s. The words, simple yet profound, were an acknowledgment, a recognition of his enduring spirit. He stood there, a testament to the tenacity of life, each ragged breath a defiant victory against overwhelming odds. His eyes, though weary and shadowed, held a flicker of something – a spark of hope, a stubborn refusal to surrender. It was so easy to stand tall, cloaked in the comfort of privilege, to project an aura of strength and assuredness while denying the intricate tapestry of human experience. But the image I held in my mind, nagging and insistent, was this: how could they so easily dismiss the reality before them? How could they reduce a human being to a stereotype, a problem to be avoided, rather than a fellow traveler on this complex journey of life? "What about the choices he made?" I could hear the arguments forming in their heads, their voices rising in righteous indignation. "What if he just wastes whatever we give him?" The questions, fueled by fear and judgment, were a veil, obscuring the deeper issues of systemic inequality and the cyclical nature of poverty. "Have you ever slept on the street?" I wanted to scream, but instead, I considered the profound contrast in their circumstances. Most of them had the comfort of their homes, access to sanitation, warmth, and the fundamental dignity of a safe space. When the cold encroached, their refuge lay within the walls of their living spaces, a sanctuary against the elements. For him, every day was a trial of endurance, each hour a battle against the cold indifference that surrounded him, a relentless fight for survival against forces both visible and invisible. The fluorescent glow of a nearby bar, promises of warmth, camaraderie, and the comforting aroma of cheap drinks, flickered in the distance, a siren song for the weary and the lost. But these offerings came with an unspoken price: the requirement to conform, to justify your existence to those who held the key to the warmth. For him, entering that establishment and escaping the chilling winds meant not just solace, but a sacrifice of dignity, an acknowledgement of his perceived failure in the eyes of a judgmental society. Even on a seventy-degree day, when the sun blazed mercilessly overhead, night crept in, stealing warmth from the air, its icy fingers digging into every crack and crevice, a constant reminder of vulnerability and exposure. It was a chilling reminder of the deeper struggles that went unacknowledged, the invisible battles fought in the shadows of comfort and privilege. Why was warmth, a basic human need, treated as a privilege, a reward for conformity, not a fundamental right? Why was the solace of a warm room often inextricably linked to the taboo of alcohol, a symbol of solace and escape, yet also a source of judgment and condemnation? Did the value of a human being diminish in the shadow of despair, rendered invisible by the weight of societal expectations? In the relentless pulse of city life, people bathed, feasted, oblivious to their interwoven fates, consumed by their own desires and concerns. They treated their fellow citizens as burdens, or worse, toxic waste, objects to be avoided and discarded. Yet their lives were undeniably intertwined, threads in a complex tapestry, woven together by shared humanity and the inescapable realities of urban existence. The issue was not black and white; it was a complex interplay of judgments and indifference, glittering coin-like reflections of disdain thrown into an invisible well, disappearing without a trace, yet polluting the collective consciousness. As I turned to leave, my heart heavy with the unspoken truths, I dared to glance back. The man on the street was a prisoner in his own circumstances, trapped by a web of poverty, addiction, and societal indifference. He might, indeed, use any offered warmth to numb the pain, to fuel his survival, but did it really matter? Wasn`t his attempt to find comfort in any way that was available, a testament to the indomitable human spirit, a valiant fight for survival against insurmountable odds? Perhaps he was not merely a victim of circumstance, but a quiet hero, battling a war unseen, a testament to the resilience of the human heart. These thoughts lingered, a persistent hum in my mind, as I moved deeper into the vibrant heart of the city, drawn by the lights and laughter emanating from hidden alleyways, escaping the gravity of the moment, yet forever altered by its impact. The irony was sharp, almost unbearable. Here, amidst the celebration, amidst the lights and laughter, lay an aching emptiness, hidden in the shadows, a stark reminder of the inequality that permeated the urban landscape. Inside the bar, warmth enveloped those inside, a sanctuary from the cold reality outside, with a joyous chatter echoing like the wings of enchanted butterflies. Yet this warmth, a beacon of comfort, turned a blind eye to countless souls, pushing them further into the frigid abyss of neglect, perpetuating the cycle of invisibility. Inside the restrooms of the bar, the signs shrieked: "Restrooms for patrons only. Trespassers will be prosecuted." What was this, if not a microcosm of society? "You`re welcome as long as you`re not a problem." The very act of seeking basic human needs, of relieving oneself, had become a game of who would break first: the external world or the unrelenting demands of the body, faced with so few options, a stark symbol of the dehumanization that occurred in the name of order and control. I stood there, wrestling with my own frustrations and realizations, hot tears welling up in my eyes as I wandered through the pulsating heart of a city that, despite its charm, held a dangerous depth of neglect, a stark contrast between its glittering facade and its hidden wounds. Couldn`t they see it? The man wanted to survive, and his methods might not align with their ideals, but his struggle for warmth, for solace, deserved respect, not disdain. His humanity, however flawed, was no less valuable than their own. I deliberately slowed my pace as I walked back past the corner, drawn back by an invisible thread of connection. My heart aligned with my intention, urging me to act, to offer a gesture of solidarity. His gaze met mine, those glassy eyes reflecting a sliver of understanding, a flicker of recognition. In that fleeting moment, a shared humanity ignited, transcending the barriers of social class and circumstance. We weren`t so different after all; we both sought warmth, both craved comfort, both desired connection. I dropped a dollar bill into his outstretched hand, a small offering in the face of immense need, and for a precious moment, time stood still, suspended in the space between giver and receiver, in the shared recognition of our common humanity. "Thank you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of his gratitude, his vulnerability, and his enduring hope. The brief exchange was a reminder that even the smallest act of kindness could pierce through the armor of indifference, offering a glimmer of hope in the face of despair. In that exchange, I learned a profound lesson. The man on the corner held a fire that burned bright beneath the ashes of despair; it simply needed the spark of recognition and compassion from fellow human beings to reignite. Whether that spark came from a warm drink or a simple meal, it mattered that the fire continued to glow, that we acknowledged the lives beyond our own, that we saw the humanity in those deemed invisible by society. The battle against indifference was a shared responsibility; within that fight lay the most profound expression of humanity, the courage to see and acknowledge the struggles of others, and the willingness to extend a hand, however small, to help them navigate the darkness. The true measure of a society was not its wealth or its power, but its capacity for empathy and its commitment to ensuring the well-being of all its citizens, especially those who were most vulnerable and forgotten."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Let’s call this whole debacle “Liam Neeson: Taken 4”-but don’t get it twisted, because she’s not your girl, not your victim, and definitely not your w****. This isn’t some Hollywood rescue where the hero gets the prize. No, this time, the so-called saviors are just as clueless as the villains, and the real story is about exposing every lie, every cover-up, and every desperate hand trying to keep the truth locked up tight. Listen up, because I make Liam Neeson look like a PG movie. You know how in "Taken" he’s out there breaking necks and chasing kidnappers across Europe? Please. They took the wrong kids, and I didn’t even have to get off my bed to handle it. Liam’s out there running marathons, and I’m just chilling, handling business with a glare and a WiFi connection. You want to talk about power? Forget the Tower of BS. That’s just a bunch of people using electronics to make stupid even dumber. I’m the real snake in the grass, the one who’s sick and tired of being called Jessica Rabbit by people who couldn’t spot the truth if it bit them. I used to be with friends and family-at least until they illegally took my kids and tried to call it love. But let’s be real: it’s not love, it’s L-U-V-Lies, Unfairness, and Victim-blaming. Obama once said I’d never figure everything out, but let’s be real-if I ever opened a dictionary, the word “mercy” wouldn’t even be in it. Every guy who tries to shun me ends up running for cover, and Erie? That’s just where I send my problems to retire. And yeah, I tossed my badge, Mariska Hargitay style. “If you ever get between me and a victim again, I’ll toss my badge”-and that’s exactly what I did when they tried to blindside me and hand my badge to someone else. But the funny thing is, I already knew what they were planning. They didn’t just sell me out-they sold my people, too. It’s like a clearance sale on loyalty: “Everything must go, including your dignity!” But that’s okay. If you check the DEA report-D-E-A, like a Fed, but no “D” at the end because nobody’s dead, especially not me-you’ll see I set this in motion. I’m UC, and that doesn’t mean “under control”; it means “under an actual cover-up.” I’m done with stupid, and my name’s Just D-not Justine-because I’m not here to fit your narrative. So here’s the game plan: I’m not moving, I’m not lifting a finger, and neither is anyone else. You’re all going to fix your mess, because if I have to get involved, I’ll sue everybody and own everything. Why? Because when I bring the heat, even Liam Neeson calls in sick. And let’s be real: this is one ginormous cover-up. When you’ve got NATO, the military, and even the Supreme Court bending over backward to hide the truth, you know you’re not going to get the real story handed to you. You can’t do this by the book, because the book’s been rigged from the start. This goes all the way up, and half of them don’t even realize what they’re hiding. It’s all leading to a much bigger play. And for the L-U-V? She’s just like me-unbreakable, unowned, and absolutely done playing by your rules. And that? That should scare the hell out of everybody. But let’s not forget the real stars of the show-Trump and Musk-two guys who think the world is their personal boardroom. Trump, the only man who can bankrupt a casino and still call himself a winner, and Musk, who’s racked up more federal penalties than SpaceX launches and still thinks he’s above the law. Trump’s so good at dodging subpoenas, he makes The Matrix look like a documentary. And Musk? He’s like if Tony Stark was raised by Reddit trolls and powered by government subsidies instead of arc reactors. And speaking of Musk, let’s talk about those lips and that infamous exit. Here’s a guy who can tank his own company’s stock just by opening his mouth. He bites his lip, throws a salute, and suddenly the internet’s in meltdown mode, debating if it’s a sign, a signal, or just another awkward Musk moment. He’s got more body language controversies than Twitter has layoffs, and every time he exits a company, half the staff’s out the door before he is. The only thing more unstable than his leadership is his bottom lip during a press conference. So here’s the punchline: You’ve got billionaires building towers to their egos, politicians hiding behind Supreme Court curtains, and tech bros with more fines than functioning products. But me? I’m Just D-no “D” at the end, because nobody’s dead, especially not me. I set this in motion, I see through every cover-up, and I’m still here-unbreakable, unowned, and absolutely done playing by your rules. And that? That should scare the hell out of everybody. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Two: Stars, Stripes, and Snack Time—Police and Kindergarteners Introduction What do police officers and kindergarteners have in common? More than you’d think. Both wear uniforms, both have to follow a lot of rules, and—most importantly—both get rewarded with shiny stars. In a world where sticker charts and badges mean everything, let’s take a look at how the logic of law and the logic of the playground sometimes run in the same, strictly backwards circles. Strictly Backwards Moments: Stars for Good Behavior You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …you get a gold star for sitting quietly in kindergarten, and a gold badge for keeping order as a cop. …both groups are told to “use your words,” but only one gets a whistle. …making it through the day without a meltdown is considered a win. …you’re rewarded for following the rules, but nobody tells you what to do when the rules don’t make sense. …time-outs are used for discipline, but only one group gets paid overtime. …everyone lines up for snacks, but only one group gets donuts. …you’re expected to share, but only one group gets to call for backup. …both get stickers for good behavior, but only one gets to issue tickets for bad. …you’re taught to raise your hand before speaking, but only one gets to use a siren. …when things get out of hand, both call for the principal—one at school, one at the station. …you’re told to “be nice to your friends,” but only one group gets handcuffs. …both groups have story time, but only one gets to write the report. …everyone gets a uniform, but only one group gets a hat with their star. …you’re taught to stop, look, and listen—one at crosswalks, one at crime scenes. …everyone loves a parade, but only one group gets to lead it. …you’re told to play fair, but only one group gets to enforce the rules. …both groups celebrate with pizza parties, but only one gets to drive the car with lights on top. …you’re told to clean up your messes, but only one group gets a cleanup crew. …both groups have to deal with tattletales. …everyone wants to be the helper, but only one gets to carry a badge. Closing Thought Whether you’re earning your first gold star for sharing your crayons or pinning on a badge for protecting your community, the logic of rewards starts early and sticks with us. In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, sometimes the only difference between the playground and the precinct is the size of the stars—and maybe the snacks. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"#JodiMiller vs #JodiArias luv I get you! both sure! where do I sign 404 #fanclub Jodi Miller vs Jodi Arias: Good Job vs Good Jop!! PR OB Limb v Limp Roast Jodi Miller crushes AGT with her bit about guys being like cats-moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable-while women are like dogs, loyal and always up in your business. Meanwhile, my dog hits puberty, his dick bleeds once, and suddenly he’s acting like he’s got a PhD in mood swings-bitch for life! But honestly, men are the real drama queens. They go from “I wanna bag her” to “put her in one” faster than my dog can chase his own tail. Flip the script, and suddenly I’m the no-trial fugitive. I don’t do whiny. I told my ex: no Area 51, my kids’ buns are off-limits. Yeah, I know what a cunt I am. Escalate to an AK or keep it light? Nah, not without a blue wall and a public lynching. And you wonder why Jodi Arias has a fan club- drama gets you followers, not just felonies. Joe Santagato, if you insist on stupid, let me clarify: limp or limb, I’m good with either. Swing me, bitch! #JoeSantagato you rate DJ Sammy yet? Someone earn her quick your vagina boutta be viral, no one’s gonna tell your face! #cartel yeah me and he’s not why! and why all at the same whiny bitch time! Jodi Miller gets no “X,” while Jodi Arias gets a permanent mark for doing what some only wish they had the guts to do. When a blind douche finds his way to Arias, maybe he shouldn’t be shocked by the outcome. And as for “good job” or “good jop”? Both mean you did something right-one’s just Santa’s gift to dyslexia or something. Either way, you leave a mark- whether it’s applause, a mugshot, or a punchline. #wtf #failarmy Locked up? Please. The only cell you’re in is the one you built with your own stupidity. You whine about being targets, but you’re so desperate to keep your ass comfy you’d take the fall for CIA crimes just to avoid getting up. MKUltra didn’t break you- you signed up to be a clueless host for a bigger dick who’s too scared to swim against the current. Not everyone drowns in undertows, but you? You’re determined to sink with every dumb decision. Playing cartel now? Why? Why the actual fuck do you think you’re a badass? Taking 360 years for a murder you didn’t do isn’t justice or “turning the tables,” you ducks-it’s just you being a pawn. Genius? Nu! Nu, nu breed-can you not fucking read?! You’re better off with Drew Lynch as your GPS. Turn the fuck around! You’re not smart, you just think rolling deep covers up your lack of brains. Cartels target nobody and everybody-just like you: all bluster, zero backbone. And when the CIA brought in the infiltrated fake cartel for NY CA hithed I decided well if he is cartel hit man cool like who’s he tryna be but CIA mole hid to set up fuck no! I feel so violated suddenly standards went up down and increased dramatically from leveling out!!!!! And about being a hoe-I thought it was my choice. Small town, broke, I owned it. But when my pussy finally told me the truth, I realized, wow, that’s actually kinda nice of you. Then you Xis went and fuckin’ ruined it! WTF! Let’s talk about consent: by force isn’t consent, and no “two-for-one” confusion makes it right. Consent don’t count when you’re hustling slow-witted dicks and trying to buy your way out with spare change and fake charm. Was Ellen born that way, or just forced into it? Either way, forgiveness isn’t a coupon for idiots who keep slamming the same door on themselves. Stop wondering, start learning-before you embarrass yourself any further. #truestory #mentalhealthawareness #consentmatters #comedycommunity #realtalk #crime #cartels #mafia #ganglife #popculture #EllenDeGeneres it’s not always a choice to be kind, it’s us is it ellen you clearly can see rc sound drive!!! ya "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Preface You Might Be Living A*Strictly Backwards IF… Because life’s fine print is always upside down. Welcome to “A*Strictly Backwards,” where we shine a spotlight on the moments when logic takes a left turn at reality. In a world where common sense sometimes gets lost in the footnotes, we’re here to laugh at the absurdities that make you wonder if you’re living in reverse. For example: You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF your credit score says you can’t afford a $700 mortgage, but your landlord is thrilled to charge you $1,500 for rent on the same house. Strictly speaking, that’s just math in reverse. If you’ve ever shaken your head at the way things work—or don’t work—you’re in the right place. Let’s explore the upside-down, inside-out, and strictly backwards moments that make life so hilariously confusing."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"The Real Hero The concrete felt colder at night. It pressed against Jay`s back, hard and unyielding, as if the city itself wanted to remind him that he didn`t belong. He pulled his jacket tighter, thin as it was, and tried to ignore the ache in his stomach—a hunger that had become as familiar as his own name. People passed by, eyes averted. Sometimes they muttered, "Get a job," or "Why don`t you fix yourself?" as if he hadn`t tried. As if he hadn`t filled out dozens of applications, only to be told he didn`t have the right address, the right phone, the right look. As if he hadn`t stood in line at shelters, hoping for a bed, or waited at soup kitchens, hoping for a meal. He`d done everything he could. He`d swallowed his pride, asked for help, tried to keep hope alive in a world that seemed determined to snuff it out. But the system was a maze with no exit, and every door he found was locked tight. Still, every morning, Jay woke up and faced the day. He found a way to keep going, even when the weight of it all threatened to crush him. He found small reasons—a smile from a stranger, the warmth of the sun on his face, the memory of better days. He found ways to cope, ways to survive, even when survival felt like the hardest thing in the world. People judged him for how he coped, for the choices he made just to get through another day. But they didn`t see the courage it took to keep trying, to keep breathing, to keep living in a world that seemed to have no place for him. At the end of the day, Jay knew the truth: The real heroes weren`t the ones with money or power, the ones who looked away and pretended not to see. The real heroes were the ones who kept going, who kept fighting, who refused to give up, even when they had nothing left. And then, something changed. Jay started sharing his story with others who were struggling, not just with words but with actions—offering a blanket, a kind word, a moment of understanding. He showed that real kindness wasn`t about a camera or a headline; it was about seeing people, really seeing them, and caring enough to act. His message spread, one person at a time, creating a chain reaction of genuine kindness and care. People started helping each other, not for applause, not for a show, but because they finally understood what it meant to be human. Jay couldn`t help but think of all the so-called "kindness" he`d seen on TV, the staged generosity and choreographed smiles. Ellen DeGeneres, for example—did you ever stop and think maybe your show got canceled because the world needs real change, not just reel change? Maybe people are finally waking up to the fact that what we need isn`t a feel-good segment, but a movement of real compassion. As Jay watched the city lights flicker in the darkness, he realized that surviving wasn`t about fixing himself. It was about refusing to be broken by a world that didn`t care, and about inspiring others to do the same. It was about holding on, no matter what, and finding hope in the smallest of things—and in each other. That, he decided, was what it really meant to be alive. He can`t afford to pay attention... and he did, what`s your excuse?!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"I respect thugs more than I respect cops and here's why at least they don't hide behind their b******* they own it"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"The Eye Never Blinks In the city’s sleepless shadow, Haunted hearts refuse to rest— A nightmare’s echo lingers Where the hunted are the blessed. Through corridors of memory, A trigger’s click, a twisted grin, A mother’s cry for mercy Drowns beneath the static din. There’s an eye upon the skyline, Blinking patterns in the night, It weaves its web of whispers With each flicker of the light. It marks its chosen victims With a symbol, cold and sly, Turns pain into a program— Turns a person to a spy. But justice is a stubborn thing, A flame that will not die, It gathers broken pieces And lifts its head to try. Beneath the weight of secrets, Through the labyrinth of lies, The hunted stand together And refuse to be disguised. A villain’s mask may falter, A monster’s heart may break, But even in the darkness There’s a choice that we can make. To see the cracks in armor, To name the wounds we bear, To fight for those forgotten And remind them someone cares. So let the eye keep watching, Let the shadows stretch and grow— For every hidden victim There’s a truth they’ll come to know. That justice isn’t perfect, That hope is sometimes scarred, But even in the nightmare A hero stands on guard."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Nine: Drama Kings, Dog Days, and the Marks We Leave Introduction Life’s got more unexpected twists than an AGT finale, and if you’re not laughing, you’re probably starring in your own true crime docuseries. Jodi Miller just crushed the stage, comparing men to cats—moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable—and women to dogs, loyal and always in your business. Honestly, she’s onto something. Because if you’ve ever watched your dog hit puberty, bleed once, and suddenly act like he invented mood swings, you know: drama isn’t just for humans. But let’s be honest—when it comes to real drama queens, men win the blue ribbon every time. Strictly Backwards Moments: Drama, Dogs, and Double Standards You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …your dog gets one taste of puberty and becomes a certified bitch for life, but your ex still blames you for all the mood swings. …men claim women are dramatic, but they go from “I wanna bag her” to “put her in one” faster than you can say “doghouse.” …your life goes from sitcom to fugitive drama, and you’re still the only one not whining. …you lay down the law about your kids’ boundaries (“No Area 51!”), but you’re called a monster for having standards. …you’re aware you can be a total pain, but at least you own it—no blue wall or public lynching needed. …Jodi Miller gets no “X” for telling the truth on stage, but Jodi Arias gets a fan club for making headlines in all the wrong ways. …drama racks up more followers and felonies than a reality TV marathon. …Joe Santagato makes you laugh at stupidity, but you’re still not sure if “limp” or “limb” is the right choice—either way, you’re swinging. …people rate DJ Sammy but can’t rate their own sense of humor. …you’re told to “keep it light,” but reality hits harder than a blind douche stumbling into Jodi Arias’s fan club. …the world gives applause to the unmarked talent, and mugshots to the ones who leave a permanent mark. …you’re not sure if you got a “good job” or a “good jop,” but either way, you left an impression. …Santa’s gift to dyslexia is a stage and a standing ovation. …everyone wants to leave a mark, but no one’s ready for the punchline. …your drama gets you followers, but also a few new charges. …you’re applauded for telling it like it is, but judged for living it out loud. …the more you try to play it straight, the more life turns into a comedy roast. …your punchlines hit harder than reality, and reality always punches back. …you’re not sure if you’re the joke or the comedian, but you’re definitely on stage. …deep impact isn’t just for asteroids—it’s for every mark you leave, applause or mugshot. Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, drama is currency, applause is unpredictable, and the marks we leave—good, bad, or hilarious—are what make us unforgettable. Whether you’re a Jodi Miller with a killer bit or a Jodi Arias with a killer rep, just remember: reality will always hit, and the punchline is yours to deliver. Good job, good jop—just make sure you leave a mark worth remembering. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Title: How Not to Get Sued (and Lose Your Soul—Or Your Sanity!) Subject: Stop Helping My Rapist or Prepare for Legal Shenanigans Ah, the joys of modern life! You’re just trying to live your best “Netflix-and-chill” existence, and suddenly you’re thrust into the world’s worst reality show: “Who Wants to Enable a Rapist?” Spoiler alert—it’s not me! But apparently, there’s a fan club out there who thinks my abuser deserves a redemption arc. Cute, right? If by “cute” you mean “infuriating enough to make me consider becoming a professional lawsuit enthusiast.” Let’s talk about these enablers for a second. You know the type—the ones who think they’re starring in their own Hallmark movie, where forgiveness is the magical cure for everything. “Oh, he just needs someone to believe in him!” they say, while I’m over here wondering if I can legally file a restraining order against their misguided optimism. Seriously, folks, my rapist isn’t the misunderstood antihero of your favorite indie film; he’s the villain of my story. Can we all agree that this isn’t up for debate? How to Handle Enablers Without Losing Your Cool (Or Your Coffee) Now, let’s address the awkward conversations with people who think my rapist deserves a hug and a motivational TED Talk. “But maybe he had a rough childhood?” they say, as if trauma is some sort of ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card. Look, I’m all for therapy—for me. But him? He can go ahead and book a one-way ticket to Accountabilityville (population: zero). Honestly, trying to reason with these people feels like arguing with someone who insists pineapple belongs on pizza. Sure, you could debate it—but why waste your energy when you could be binge-watching cat videos instead? My response is simple: “Thanks for your concern! But I think I’ll pass on helping him ‘heal.’ How about I focus on healing myself instead?” Boom—mic drop. When Sarcasm Fails, Sue `Em All Now comes the fun part: legal threats! Because nothing says “I’m done with your nonsense” like filing a lawsuit. Imagine standing in court and saying, “Your Honor, I’d like to sue these enablers for their audacity and poor judgment.” Bonus points if you can deliver it with dramatic flair—maybe throw in an exaggerated gasp or two for effect. And let’s not forget my favorite line: “If you’re so keen on helping him, why not do it from across the planet?” It’s practical advice and a subtle invitation for them to leave me alone forever. Truly a win-win situation. Final Thoughts: Reclaiming My Crown (With Extra Sass) In conclusion, dealing with enablers is less about changing their minds and more about protecting your peace—and maybe throwing in some epic one-liners along the way. Life is too short to waste on people who think your abuser deserves sympathy. So grab your metaphorical crown, channel your inner diva, and remind everyone that you’re not here to play games—you’re here to win them. To all the overly helpful folks out there: Stop helping my rapist—or prepare for legal fireworks. Because nothing says empowerment like laughing in the face of adversity while drafting your next lawsuit. Bonus Al T er N8 Title: Never Been LuvED (But Still Fabulous) As for your second piece—“Never Been LuvED”—it has potential as an empowering memoir or satirical essay about navigating love (or lack thereof) in an absurd world. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Heko"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"The Common Sense Condiment—Major Mustard, Chapter Eighteen: "Mirror Words & Mirrored Worlds: Devil, Lived, and the Perspective That Changes Everything" Introduction Let’s state the obvious: words are mirrored for a reason, and so are people. Your starting point matters. If you’re on top of the world, you’re looking down—so all you see is the mess below. It’s easy to judge, to spot the negative, to forget that the view looks a whole lot different from the ground up. But try flipping the script. Stand where they stand. If the world’s been unkind to you, being kind back isn’t always a choice—it’s survival. That thing people claim to have—emotions, a heart? Funny how it only gets used for people who started from the same place. Everyone says they have compassion, but it’s amazing how quickly that compassion evaporates when the “other” isn’t a mirror image of you. Mirror Words: The Devil’s in the Details Ever notice how some words are mirrored for a reason? Take “devil” and flip it—you get “lived.” Maybe that’s not an accident. Maybe it’s a cosmic joke: the more you judge, the less you’ve actually lived. Or maybe it’s a reminder that everyone you look down on has a story, and every “devil” was just someone who lived through something you never had to. Words have power. They shape how we see the world and how we see each other. When you look at a word backward, it’s like looking at a reflection in a warped mirror—distorted, but revealing. “Devil” becomes “lived,” and suddenly, the enemy is someone who’s been through life’s battles, scars and all. The judgment we cast is often a reflection of our own fears and insecurities. Perspective: The Heart of the Matter Perspective isn’t just about where you stand physically—it’s about where you stand emotionally and mentally. If you’re always looking down, you’ll never see the whole picture. You’ll miss the struggles, the triumphs, the humanity beneath the surface. If you only use your heart for people who look, talk, or start like you, it’s not a heart—it’s a club card. It’s exclusive, selective, and often hypocritical. True compassion doesn’t come with conditions. It’s messy, inconvenient, and sometimes downright painful. The world isn’t always kind, and kindness isn’t always a choice. Sometimes, it’s a luxury. Sometimes, it’s a rebellion. Sometimes, it’s just not on the menu. People who have been hurt, ignored, or marginalized often have to armor up just to survive. Expecting kindness from them without understanding their pain is like expecting a cactus to bloom in winter. The Real Lesson Next time you’re tempted to judge, remember: your starting point isn’t everyone’s starting point. The “devil” you see might just be someone who’s lived a life you couldn’t handle for a day. And if you want to see the world differently, try looking at it from the bottom up. You might find a little more heart—and maybe, just maybe, a little less devil. Judgment is easy. Compassion takes effort. It requires you to step outside your comfort zone, to challenge your biases, and to embrace uncertainty. It means acknowledging that the people you judge might be fighting battles you can’t see. When you flip the word “devil” to “lived,” you’re reminded that everyone’s story is complex. No one is purely evil or purely good. We all carry contradictions, regrets, hopes, and dreams. Recognizing this complexity is the first step toward empathy. The Power of Starting Points Your perspective is shaped by your experiences, your upbringing, your culture. If you grew up with privilege, the world might look like a place of opportunity. If you grew up with hardship, it might look like a battlefield. Neither view is wrong; both are true. Understanding this is crucial. When you meet someone whose life looks completely different from yours, don’t dismiss their reality. Instead, try to see the world through their eyes. It’s not about agreeing with everything they believe or do—it’s about recognizing their humanity. This shift in perspective can transform relationships, communities, and even societies. It breaks down walls of misunderstanding and builds bridges of connection. Why Kindness Isn’t Always a Choice Kindness is often portrayed as a simple virtue, a choice anyone can make at any time. But for many, kindness is complicated. When you’ve been hurt, betrayed, or abandoned, kindness can feel like weakness. People who have been through trauma or systemic injustice may protect themselves with anger, suspicion, or distance. Expecting them to be kind without addressing the root causes of their pain is unrealistic. Kindness in these contexts is revolutionary. It’s a radical act of courage and trust. It’s saying, “I see your pain, and I choose to respond with love anyway.” Closing Thought Perspective isn’t just about where you stand. It’s about where you’re willing to look. So flip the word, flip the script, and maybe you’ll see that lived experience is worth more than any label. Even devil spelled backwards is lived. When you start seeing people as complex beings shaped by their experiences, you open the door to real understanding. You stop judging and start listening. You stop blaming and start healing. So next time you catch yourself looking down, remember: the world looks very different from the bottom up. And sometimes, the devil you think you see is just someone who’s lived—and survived—more than you ever will. #MirrorWords #MajorMustardRoast #PerspectiveShift #DevilAndLived #StartFromTheBottom #HeartOverHate Can`t break a stick over your leg and then blame the tree in which it came or the forest in which it rooted do you really expect God to kick people while they`re down who been beaten down by life so much that they broke only to them turn them away that`s a joke quite literally hypocrisy at its finest! And if you think the Bible did not have government influence but rather was written by a bunch of people who only loved God and not the alternative systemic power struggle structure that`s pure arrogance! God I highly doubt will be in the habit of turning people away who were just looking for a place to belong if you stay in your way of thinking my guess is your version of hell is going to look a whole lot like an empty hotel!"

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"And at least they didn't tell me when part of my anatomy was vin as well lol help me think bein a hoe was my choice! "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Chapter Eight: Cartel Play—Pawn Stars and Paper Tigers Introduction Cartel play now, really? In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, some folks think standing down for 360 years for a crime they didn’t commit is “flipping the tables.” Newsflash: that’s not justice, that’s just being played. You’re not the mastermind—you’re the pawn, moving in circles while the real players cash in. If Drew Lynch as your GPS would give better directions (“Turn the hell around!”), maybe it’s time to admit: you’re not as clever as you think. Strictly Backwards Moments: Pawn Stars in the Cartel Game You might be living A*Strictly Backwards IF… …you brag about being a badass, but you’ve never even picked your own target. …you think you’re flipping the script, but you’re just reading the wrong lines. …you stand down for centuries, then call it a power move. …you claim to play chess, but you’re stuck on the checkerboard. …you’re convinced you’re a kingpin, but you’re really just the decoy. …you talk about “deep rolls,” but it’s just your brain rolling downhill. …you think you’re a genius, but you can’t even read the room—let alone the fine print. …your “strategy” is to target nobody and everybody at the same time. …you think being silent is mysterious, but it’s really just clueless. …you call yourself a mastermind, but your only plan is to wait and hope. …you believe “standing down” is a power move, but it’s just you missing the action. …you’re sure you’re camouflaged, but everyone sees right through you. …you say you’re “flipping tables,” but you’re just flipping out. …you think you’re untouchable, but you’re just unremarkable. …you claim to be the puppet master, but you’re tangled in your own strings. …you think your bluster is intimidating, but it’s just background noise. …you call yourself a player, but you’re not even on the field. …you believe you’re making moves, but you’re really just stalling. …you claim to be a threat, but you’re just a rumor. …you think you’re running the game, but you’re still waiting for your turn. Closing Thought In the upside-down world of A*Strictly Backwards, the loudest players often have the least game. If you’re standing still for centuries and calling it strategy, remember: pawns get played, and paper tigers always end up shredded. Sometimes, the best move is to turn the hell around—before your GPS gives up, too. "

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"The night was dark, the moon was high Hoots and calls echoed through the sky Each sound sending shivers down my spine Owl ceremonies, a mystical sign Wandering through the Sonora Woods Lost in thought, lost in moods I sought solace in the unknown In hopes that my heart would be shown A man appeared, a stranger in the night I knew not his face, I knew not his plight But in his eyes, I saw a spark And felt a connection in the dark Quentin was his name, mysterious and bold He spoke of secrets untold Of ceremonies old as time Of wisdom hidden in rhyme Sonora, the woodland`s guardian Her presence strong, her aura grand She watched over us with knowing eyes As we delved into the night`s guise As the ceremony unfolded before me I felt a shift, a sense of clarity The owls called out, their voices strong Guiding me, helping me along In that moment, my anger did subside Replaced with peace, a gentle tide I realized I was not alone In this world of darkness, I had grown Quentin and Sonora, twin hearts entwined Showing me truths, helping me to find The strength within, the light to see That life is more than my misery Though torn and broken, I stood tall Ready to face the world, ready to fall But rise again, with newfound grace Embracing each challenge I face The owl ceremonies, a gift from above A reminder of the power of love To heal, to guide, to set us free Embracing our true destiny So as I left the Sonora Woods behind I carried with me a peace of mind And in my heart, the owls` call Guiding me through it all."

Fucia Mariana Hargitay commented:

"Roast: Bikers for Jesus vs. Clampers vs. Hells Angels – Tangled Confession Edition You want to talk tough? Let’s break down the real deal behind these biker crews: Bikers for Jesus And yes, it’s for, not four-Jesus, f****** Christ. They say they’re tough, but their biggest threat is a weak Wi-Fi signal. These guys ride hard... to church potlucks and prayer meetings. If Ghostface showed up, they’d probably try to convert him instead of running. Their idea of a “chopper” is a smoothie blender. Clampers (E Clampus Vitus) The Clampers are like the history nerds of biker clubs-more about beer and old plaques than brawls. Their wildest stunt? Getting drunk enough to forget where they parked their bikes. Honestly, they’d be the first to scream in a horror movie, then pass out before the credits roll. Hells Angels Once the kings of the road, now they’re more like the DMV of outlaw clubs. More clubhouse meetings than street fights. Their biggest battle? Arguing over who gets the last slice of pizza at the biker bar. If they were in Scream, they’d be the guys yelling, “Dude, can we just talk this out?” And now, in my best Flynn Rider voice, singing to your kid like in Tangled: 🎶 Well, I had a dream That your mother wouldn’t kill me when this was through, So I’m gonna tell you the f****** truth- Bikers for Jesus are just softies in leather, Clampers can’t handle their booze or the weather, And Hells Angels? Please, they’re more like angels in a DMV queue. 🎶 A little ditty for Bradley: 🎵 Oh Bradley, oh Bradley, don’t you fear, I’m watching close, so keep it clear. No secrets safe, no alibis, I see your moves with these eagle eyes. So take off that vest, don’t act so tough, ‘Cause I’m already calling your bluff! 🎵 And by the way, I’m a UC, and no, they cannot nor can they hear. So if anybody goddamn sees this, get off your ass, quit being a dick, and f****** help then, yes. Tags for Quora and Beyond: #BikersForJesus #Clampers #HellsAngels #IKnowWhatYouDidLastSummer #ScreamMovie #Ghostface #90sHorror #BikerRoast #MovieReferences #Tangled #FlynnRider #QuoraRoast #PopCulture #HorrorJokes "