How to spot Fake Weather 7

Geomorphology for busy mothers

I don’t know how I can joke about this stuff. I wrote these titles a very long time ago. 4 of them, with no idea that I would be writing a book based on this horror show. When I was considering how to write about what god was showing me, I had been red pilled by the Jehovah’s Witnesses and then I was sitting in a mouse infested attic watching the occasional Green Flashes over the most beautiful stretch of North Wales: The Abergele Roads wondering what to say about a massive emergency in Russia during Perestroika.

My son had been taken off me and I was begging Jehovah for relief. Then my ex wife accused me of messing with my son. The picture of her mother and my family laughing at me made me want to kill her. Then after she sent me a photo of my son with all his baby teeth black as coal.

I started planning, I would buy a gun, shoot her on a busy Friday evening (things were seriously different back then an narrow country roads would be impassable early on a warm summer evening) and I would take my boy to Ireland then Spain.

The only problem I was broke but I knew someone with a boat. Sooo…

Then the Dunblane Massacre happened and they banned and confiscated all guns in the UK.

It doesn’t say much for my mental capacity does it, that I was incapable of getting what was needed all set up because guns were now illegal for me to get one to kill somebody.

Were you expecting Rational?

From me?

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