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Mary had a little lamb whose wool was snow white.
And wherever Maryam went, the Lamb would surely go.
He followed her to school one day when she broke the rules.
Make the children laugh and play to see pregnancy at school.
This was demonstrated by the Master, but he came closer and closer and patiently waited for Mary to appear.
"Why does Aries love Mary so much?" Greedy children cry.
"Well Mary loves getting pregnant, you know?" The teacher answered
According to my spit my dna is 49% Spaniard, 35% Native American, and the rest is so little of so much my brother and I just say gypsy pirate (Egyptian, Arab, Indonesian, Thai, Broadly Chinese and Southeast Asian, West African, Angolan & Congolese, British/Irish, Italian...) 1.5% is Unassigned, my father says that part is Alien. My mother and all my grandparents were born in Mexico, nobody remembers anything or anybody from before Mexico. My father was born in Chicago like me. His parents are from the border town just on the other side of the very tip of Texas, Matamoros (Spanish for “Kill the Moors”). My ex brother-in-law spent his childhood in Mexico City. He shuddered when I mentioned my origins on my father’s side. “I was always scared of Matamoros as a kid because of the Satanists,” he said. I dismissed the comment assuming it alluded to your run of the mill 80s Satanic panic. I was wrong. Gather round and I shall tell ye a tale. Cue blurry waves transition scene and going back in time music.
The year is 1989. Adolfo Constanzo is a 26 year old Cuban American. His childhood seemed scattered, his life spent in Miami, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Mexico City, and Matamoros. He practices Palo Mayombe. His religion emphasizes magick through animal and human sacrifice, cauldrons, and sticks. He and his friends are also trafficking exorbitant amounts of blow and weed. He believes his spells offer him protection from law enforcement and will gain him material wealth. When he stops digging up bones in graveyards, he begins to kill for fresh materials. He wants an American University brain to boil in his cauldron and he gets it from 21 year old spring breaker Mark Kilroy. Two months later he dies by assisted suicide refusing to be captured by police.
Los Narcosatánicos (Narcosatanists, or Drug Trafficking Satanists) have 13 confirmed kills and a suspected 26.
Some important things to remember are that Adolfo was not a Satanist nor a Mexican, but the real moral of the story is don’t murder animals and/or people and/or take their body parts for spellwork because it doesn’t work. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
My favorite pictures of Anton LaVey are the ones with Jayne Mansfield.
They say Jayne was in the Black House for publicity, I believe her Satanism was legitimate. She would have turned 88 this year and I rubbed my clit to her naked gifs recently. I imagine what her ghost would tell me.
The best picture is both of them with LaVey holding a Chihuahua. Long story short, a Chihuahua showed up on my doorstep when I was 18, more than 10 years later he told me never to settle for anyone who loves me less than he did. Now in my mind’s eye he flies above me as a dragon, changing dramatically in size at will. When I worked at UPS he slept on top of the warehouse and his breath fogged up the skylight. He lands behind me heavy when somebody approaches me trying to waste my preciousss time. He was most definitely part of my entourage when I appeared before the The Throne.
Occasionally vultures circle round with my dragon. That tells me there’s something in my life that needs to die. They are comforting when I am in pain, they remind me the pain too will die and they will be there to consume all the flesh of it that remains. I found myself tied to a black hole of a person with what looked like intestines and they ate away at it for weeks until I was free and leveled up.
Do you ever worry that you died many times before and keep waking up in parallel universe type times and places? I started to feel unsure about being in my original reality after a seizure on air duster at an after party on Hale Street. Sometimes I feel that each of the million times I woke up from a black out or date rape I actually died. My only concern is what happened to my mother in all the other dimensions.
There’s a gang called Satan’s Disciples, the black and yellow baby devils. I was in SD’s motherland on 18th and Oakley the last time I was date raped. When I woke up HO was tattooed inside my pussy. Maybe I died there at the birthplace of Satan’s Disciples. Maybe I was mutated beyond belief and my mom in that other life is living out her days thinking I suffered.
I did a past life regression meditation on YouTube. The voice told me to relax and relax deeper and relax deeper and relax deeper until finally it told me to go back and asked me if I was a man or a woman. My brain said I was a man. The voice asked me what language I spoke. My brain said Farsi. I didn’t know Farsi was a language but they speak it in Iran. My brain responding to the voice told me I was 35. I killed my wife.
It makes sense that I’ve had to endure so much in this life because I killed my wife in another.
I’ve done other past life regressions that were wonderful. Billy and me floating high in a hot air balloon with a clear basket over the City of Atlantis. We were famous and we were in love.
But back to LaVey and his Chihuahua pictures. Even among dog lovers Chihuahuas are misunderstood and looked down on. They’re extremely sensitive to vibrations with their tiny bodies and giant bat ears. I used to joke that mine was my spirit guide but now he actually is one of them alternating as my baby puppy and my steadfast dragon among ancestors and deities and aliens and other thangs. Anton LaVey was born about a mile and a half from my house and Anton LaVey holding the world’s smallest dog breed from Mexico is my Anton LaVey.
It involves a little bit of paperwork and leg work:
How to Leave the Catholic Church
AND
Process of ExcommunicationIf you want to be excommunicated, you have to go through official channels. Your local priest can't help you; instead, you must write a letter to your bishop.
If you don't hear back after a little bit, send the letter again—but this time registered mail with a note that this is your second attempt. If you persist, you should be successful.