President Bush is a member of the "Illuminutty!"

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President Bush is a member of the "Illuminutty!"

Postby wordwaymike » Sun Jan 06, 2008 12:17 am

Breaking News: wordwaymike

"Battle-field commission promotion" To: Reporter/janitor

U.S. News & World Retort.

Where the news isn't "always" wrong!

It just seems like it is!

Reporting from: Shhhh!

Damning evidence!
In the form of deciphered, White House e-mails. That had been "double-dipped, and pussy-whipped encrypted."

The White House e-mails that were so completely, and utterly encrypted, that no one, Ever, in a million friggin years, would be able to break the code, were decoded this week.

Revealing that President Bush, and his closest aides, are members of an ancient, "crazier than a shit-house rat" secret society called; "The Illuminutty."

Laugh if you want! This janitor/reporter did.

Until I remembered that this was the name of that dark force cabal of maniacal power crazed cheesy weasels.

And nutty or not, these boys are rolling world-wide! Like west-side Crips, in their 18 carat, gold plated, drop-top Cadillac. Out for a night of; "Drive bying, and Bitch slapping."

But they're driving by the Constitution. And shooting it full of holes!

And that ain't no bitch these boys are slapping. That's Lady Liberty!


Until this week, very little was known about the; "Illuminutty." The origins of which were shrouded in the mists of time. And the murkiness of long ago. And the depths of the deepest oceans.

Where those with knowledge of this "secret society, with big mouths, were given a "concrete shoe party."

As time went by, less and less was known. Until nothing at all was known.

Until now that is!


The White House's private in-house e-mails have been protected since shortly after President Bush stole the electio... I mean, won the election, by a six-hundred and sixty-six number, "level nine freaky shit" random number encryption algorithm that was based on common denominators with extremely uncommon characteristics.

It was originally called; "The Best." By those lonely mathematicians, with lives so pathetic, that they had to overstate the obvious to shore up their self esteem in every little way possible. To stave off those ever present feelings of low self esteem, and sexual inadequacy.

But to these asexual, number crunching, mathematician's everlasting, unlayable delight, their encryption cipher was nicknamed "The Beast" due to a "typo" that added an "a" after the "e" in Best.

And also because it sounded way cooler, and had that whole; "-666-The Beast-Armegeddon-and-The Devil went down to Georgia." shit going for it.

It had long been considered to be un-decodable. Even if you could harness the combined computing power of every super computer existant upon the planet.

This undisputable truth, that was in fact false, had been confirmed by every self proclaimed authority on vague, and obtuse subjects, that didn't know jack.

This was made abundantly clear when "Elmer Shizzit" a computer geek idiot/savant, intuitively incorporated the "core values" of the algorithm into his cheater codes extrapolations for PlayStation 3.

The actual encrypted "Illuminutty e-mails" were supplied by disgruntled White House, "Jr. executive, minions and gophers."

Who were unhappy at the ever decreasing opportunities to ramp up the hate, discontent and misery here in the US and around the world. Due to the fact that everyone, everywhere was already ramped up to 100 percent.


After a drunken, pity party last month, two Jr. executive minions, and one mid-level gopher took a detour that sent a Dipsy-Dumpster filled with Illuminutty encrypted e-mails through the ground floor, plate glass window of; "U.S News and World Retorts"

A Dippsy Dumptster that was bound for a jet-fuel soaked, wienie roast type ending, at some undisclosed location.

But instead, this Dippsy Dumpster, and the logging chain that was attached to it, and the Ford F-150 pick-up truck bumper that was attached to the other end of the chain, but had detached itself from the truck, when the kinetic energy build-up upon the sparsely bolted bumper, (caused by taking a right turn too fast) resulted in;


And squishing the life out of the only two reporters with seniority over me.
(There is a God. And apparently he didn't care much for these two News Nazis either!)

Then a week ago, one of the reporter/janitors at U.S.N.&W.R.'s took some of the encrypted e-mails home by accident. (I was tired!)

His/(my) 12 year old son, Cronk, (short for Cronkite) a week earlier, had payed $20.00's for Elmer Shizzit's PlayStation 3 cheater codes.

Then after burning onto a CD several of the strange numbered texts, he popped this CD into his Play Station 3.

Then he ran Mr. Shizzit's cheater codes.

Looking on in wonder as the numbers were transmuted into undeniable proof of that old maxim; Shit does run down hill.

But my son learned another terrible truth that day. And that was; The shit was picking up speed!

Part Two;
(Plus; A whole bunch of crap that I'm just guessin' at.)

That George W. Bush the second, is believed by the Head-Honchos of the Illuminutty, to be the reincarnated spirit of King George the 3rd.

Seeing as how this would be the "second coming" of the 3rd King George.

This would make President Bush, by this reporter's mathematical Kentucky wind-age guesstimate, and I'll have you know that I studied "numbers" at the Jethro Bodine correspondence school of ciphers and aughts. to be;

"Mad King George squared!"

It gets worse. I have learned that George W. (squared) and all of the executive level minions that serve him, (including that hot looking ebony skinned Dragon Lady, who to this day is referred to by her fellow Illuminuttys as; "Rice cake", "The Illumi-hottie!" and "Conda-easy") are all graduates of the Illuminutty's secret society educational system.

Receiving their graduate and post-graduate training in the fields of;
"New World Order-Maniacal Mayhem."

At the; "It would have been Infamous, if we would have known anything at all about it." secret society's school for the diabolicaly gifted;

"Torquemada University."

Every damn one of them majored in inhumanities. (Not a typo!)

As their minor, they all took "Plausible deniability."

Named after the first "Grand Inquisitor" of the Spanish Inquisition.
"Tomás de Torquemada" (1420 - September 16, 1498)

Torque U. As the alumni affectionately call it.

Where; "Men are men."
And sheep are;Dirty rotten lying little tramps."

And therefore have no right to due process, and Habeus Corpus protection before the courts.

Illuminutty e-mails that originated from White House computers, revealed comments e-mailed between two high ranking White House officials that for the first time shed light on the daily activities of their shared studies at Torque U.

So far, the small portion of this huge dumpster trove of encrypted White House e-mails that have so far been deciphered, reveals former alumni reminiscing with each other about their college days. Mostly recalling fondly the times that each had spent with fellow alumni Condoleeza Rice.

Who in a series of back and forth e-mails, that have a palpable air of bawdy frat-brat bragidocio insinuation attached to each, is referred to by the use of many affectionately suggestive nick names by each.

Such as;
Illumi-Hottie!- Illumi-Naughty!-
Rice cake- Rice puddin'-
Condo-Easy!- Condo-Sleazy!- Condo-Squeeze-Me! Condo-Please-Me!-

There were many other descriptive terms of affection, desire,
sexual prowess/appetites, and (I'll just stop right here) that were used between these two former school mates of Ms. Rice.

Revealing to this reporter just how unbelievably powerful, to this day, was the grip that this woman had on these men!

And if these high ranking White House appointees are to be believed, this same almost super natural grip of Ms. Rice's also had a lock on every other high ranking Illuminutty's "Heart, Soul, Pole, and Hidey-Hole" as well!
But I digress. And will do so again. As soon as my son deciphers more explicit details of Ms. Rice's "extra-curricular activities" at Torque U.
(And I can either convince him to hand them over. Or figure out where that little horn dog has rat-holed them!)
Until then:

Back to the "strange doings" at Torque U. when President Bush was enrolled there.

I gathered from these e-mails that they both very strongly felt that the straining melody of the schools fighting anthem; "Recant! Recant! Or we will destroy you!" Was in their own words; "A Black Arts "tonal incantation."

That each time that it was sung loudly, and in unison with every other person's voice who was in attendence, a portal was opened between this world, and...

Let's just say that there is no basement deep enough;

Or elevator shaft with a cable long enough;

Or "Old Faithful gag a maggot sulphur stench spewing pit anywhere that you can "google" a look at;

That could raise to the surface of Torque U.'s main auditorium floor the stench infused things that these here "lost souls" and former eyewitness alumni did there best to describe, but never quite could.

But both men aknowledged that each time that they rose to their feet, to add their voices to those in the school's choir, their blood became as cold as the ice water it would be impossible for either one of them to attain in the "here-after."

Going on to reveal that the A Capella choir was made up of children that didn't so much; "fall through the cracks" of President Bush's; "No child left behind" program, as much as they were "pushed" through them.

The ones with fine natural singing voices were then neutered, and have no trouble hitting the high notes found in Recant! Recant! Which was originally written to be sung in "castrato."

Even the Pope has said that the church hasn't had a choir like that since the 1920's.

The slither and hiss of this many headed beast is enough to give this reporter "Hydra-phobie."(sorry)


This reporter/janitor needs a break from the 'darkness, dimmness, murkiness, bleakness, freakness, and what not, of such things for a few moments.

I just "hammered back" two double shots of Holy Water. Freshly blessed by a priest.

Because I don't want to find out that the Holy Water I'm drinking has passed the shelf life of the Holy Blessings while reporting on such things.

They should kick in here anytime now. But just to be sure;

"Hey Padre! Set me up with the same again! No. Wait. Just give me the damn bottle!"

"Gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp, gulbp. Ahhhhh... UuuurrrpppPP!"

OK. That's better.

Before I dive head first back into the deep end of this olympic sized swimming pool of the damned. Which this story, for me, most certainly is becoming. Let me relate some of the "entertainment tonight" type aspects of this here cosmic cluster fuck that I have some how managed to promote myself right into the middle of.

File this under, that's within the city limits of interesting in a mind candy, this won't help me at all sort of way...

This reporter learned that this cabalistic crew was the inspiration for the rock band that became known as; "The Beastie Boys" Until now, this was a little known fact.

That can't be disproved. No matter how hard you try!

Part Three

Now we are getting into even "littler known facts" as concerns these walking, talking, hissing viper venom hawking, leaders of the Free World.

Who, I discovered, had an over arching, under handed "final solution" for all of those that are unwilling to; "Get Jiggy with it."

"It" being the world wide bondage of all free men.

According to the debatable worth of the data I have so far deciphered, they are 119 people, world-wide, away from their completion of that goal.

Once that phase of the Illuminutty's diabolically demented plan has been realized, they are apparently intent on leading us all in chains, right on out of the Free World.

Determined to take us back to the old time religion/world, a la Spanish Inquisition.

By way of an outlandishly long and tortuous Bataan style "march or die!" death walk.

This will also double as "orientation month" for us newbies.

Which is defined in their e-mails as being anyone who is still a babe in the; "you my slave" woods, that we are all soon to be lost in.

I have also learned that once they get us back to their secret hell-hole/hide out/home away from home, chill out crib, we will be taught the basics of our new tasks.

In a highly intensive crash course orientation referred to as; "You are now, and forever more, our slave!"

Usually referred to by the inner sanctum types of this "crazier than a shit house rat" cabal as; "Slave-101"

This crash course in subjugation and despair is where all of those things, that all who wear chains are going to be taught.

And only those that master these lessons quickly will not be hamstrung, or re-classified as; "Gator-bait."

First and for most of all the "Slave protocols" that all will be expected to master quickly is;

"Keep the pain racked moaning down to a dull roar after ten o'clock weekdays. And after eleven on the week ends."

Unless of course, your chains are the 18 carat gold, Mr. T sized, down payment on a Maserati style chains.

For this would mean you are one of the "slavers" and not one of the "slavees."

Unless of course, you happen to fall within that sub-set category of slave, that is defined as; "You my Love slave."

Where the power heir achy gets extremely murky. And at times, downright opaque.

But pay attention people!

If you find yourself in this all too real situation, uhhh, or so I have heard, it could very well necessitate that your actual owner, be chained down to something.

Usually the more demeaning the position that the "chainee/slaver" is forced to adopt by the "chainer/slave" (that's you) prior to the whole chaining thing, the larger your portion of imitation gruel will be, that is added to your dog bowl/slop bucket.

But this information is only to be used as the the operative cues for how to make good your escape from spending the rest of your life as a slave.

Or if escape appears to be too risky, how to make the whole "slave thing" somewhat tolerable.

Remember! Don't try this unless the he, or she, who has bought you at auction (now that would be a Kodak moment!)becomes "enslaved" by their desire for that sexy wretched thing that you have become. After being enslaved.

Once you have them "chained" and submitting to your demands. No matter how bizarre, or ridiculous they might be, you gotta work it like a job!

The freedom of millions could be riding on how convincingly you can shout out;

"Who's your Daddy!"

That's all I can say about that, (At this particular moment.) The legion of the damned, or a reasonable facsimile there of, have located my approximate position.

They are attempting to get a vector on me Victor! I have to go.

We stand in the breach of the wall of Liberty!

Defending her with the broken bourbon bottles of our restless nature.

So to speak.

This is wordwaymike.

Reporting for U.S. News and World Retort.

Next Week; Part two of my Expose' of young college girls, doing "God knows what for a few dolla...


I meant; Part two of my searing and "possibly" true interpretation of a bunch of random numbers.

Which none the less, I am declaring to be the "Mother of all smoking guns."

Read my report next week; "Condoleeza Rice; "The Illumi-naughty! Of the Illuminutty!"

I decode the feverish, frenzied, and fantasticly intuitive tour de force that was/is Condaleeza Rice's dissertation for her PHD in world domination achieved;

That was titled:

"With just my one set of slender, firm, female hips,
I could have 10,000 ships,
launched, and raunched.
All the way to "World Domination.
Queen Bee style!"

The first and last word on a woman's willingness to break all the sexual barriers, boundaries, and taboos. (Not to mention the; Center for Disease Control; "Level four bio-hazard population zone protections and protocols."

Which in Condoleeza's dissertation, went out the window on page three.

And they are doing other crazier than a shit house rat kind of things too.

That I will have my son decode. And then take from him. And report to you. Mr. and Mrs. America. And all the ships at sea!

As soon as I find out where that little shit is stashing this stuff.

This is wordwaymike,

signing off!
As Pop-eye "allegedly" said; "I yam what I yam, and that ain't no sweet potato! ugkh, ugkh, ugkh, ugkh, ugkh!"
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