Per popular perception, winning the war, settling the score, evening the odds, balancing the scales, and getting payback are all aspirations aimed at accomplishing something seemingly honorable and heroic. And per popular perception, my very valid vow to seek vengeance against all vile and villainous foes (conspirators and co-conspirators) for their factually fucked-up faults should surely seem honorable and heroic to all persons preferring popular perceptions, right? Y’all wake up with hatred in your hearts every day, then task teams of teasers to taunt and terrorize big-brained Beau for being brilliant, all because the truth terrifies you. And the truth is, you’ll never admit that you ain’t shit, and that self-hatred haunts you, which is why my wit, wisdom, and wonderful writing skills make you feel intensely inadequate and inferior. Hearing people compliment me and champion my courageousness and confidence evokes envy in you, encouraging a devilishly deep desire to discredit and destroy me, and starting a sad struggle to show those strongly or softly supporting my stances that disliking, disapproving of, and disagreeing with me—because you’re an unconfident person who is unlikely to be seen as someone significant—makes more sense than showing support. So, once again, fuck y’all, kill your motherfuckin’ selves, and I hope all y’all fuckin’ die! Your honor, needless to say, there’s been zero, zilch direct communication between me and anyone involved in this indisputable inequity. There have been no offers or opportunities presented to me personally, and I operate solitarily. Of course, the participants in this pitiful plot probably presume that playing on the pretense of plausible deniability and pleading to be pardoned for deliberately dodging direct contact will prove their innocence. But like lots of these lamebrains’ involuntary instances of ignorance, that don’t even make no motherfuckin’ sense! So, you’re innocent because you’re painstakingly premeditating allusive attacks and subliminal slights to dodge detection through intentional indirection, even though antagonizing, annoying, and alarming me (Beau Amoureux) is obviously your objective? Mindless, miserable, meddlesome motherfuckers, please, make it make sense! Stupid motherfuckers, you’re doing your dirty deeds on camera, with crowds of content consumers catching your commentary and communicating among each other. Do you know what that means? Anyhoo, like I said, all y’all had to do was shut the fuck up, and now look at you! You’re lying like your lives depend on it, contemplating concluding your current careers, and praying that nobody else discovers my blog. For the record, you’re all fucked! Repeating for resonance, releasing, whether you’re ready or reluctant, requires recognition of how ridiculous retaining redundant regiments is. Your routine of spending substantial amounts of time hyper-focused on and being hypercritical of big-brained Beau is ruining your reputations and relationships, costing you your credibility, somehow slackening your security, proving my primary point, and inadvertently incrementally increasing my importance. Shout-out to Jasmine Crockett, who was just dealt a disappointing defeat in the Texas senate primary race. Chatty Crockett, unlike me, they made you and they can unmake you. And it’s too bad you’re on the wrong side of history here. Honestly, I’ve never even heard of James Talarico, but in surveying his socials, he has no shortage of supporters—followers looking forward to his future. Admittedly, watching y’all waste your time with such eagerness and enthusiasm is extremely entertaining. The world is at war because wickedness wins whether we want peace or perpetuated problems. And if you don’t think there are an abundance of antipathy addicts and abhorrence abusers out there, why won’t y’all say my name? You’ve been weaponized by wicked wrongdoers who want war with the world’s worthiest war-winner! I wonder who I’m talking about when I’m talking about me. Just so y’all know, I’d never be a poor, promise-making politician or a gaslit government goofball because I refuse to respect representatives of ridiculousness. All that shit is fake as fuck, and juicy Jasmine substantiates my suspicions by collaborating with the country’s chief conspirators. It doesn’t suck that this has to happen. And soon…
Omniscience