“I’m suing y’all! Oh, I’m hurt!” Remember, if the often ostentatious O’Shea Jackson didn’t diss me in the government-sanctioned song, “So Sensitive,” which has an alliterative appellative as the title, the “Friday” franchise would still be lingering in limbo. Yes, this attempted destruction of my disruption goes disturbingly deep, and the celebrity co-conspirators intentionally include folks’ favorite “Fuck the Police” and “Fight the Power”-type tough-talkers. Like I said, the evidence exhibits that the conspirators are supplying scripts with smart and sassy snubs spurning themselves for co-conspirators to convey, as their reign remains regardless of insignificant insults. And sure, call it a coincidence that the rambunctious rapper notably named after a blizzardy beverage ingredient cleared cinematic complications subsequent to subliminally slighting and allusively attacking me, but can you prove me wrong? Your Honor, as this indisputable inequity is inarguably unprecedented, my creativity has been a complement to my commitment to causing change. Not only are these thoughtless, thick-witted thugs and thieves as dumb as dunces in an unlocked dungeon, they’re overly obstinate—to the point where staying stuck on stupid is destined to deliver their downfall. I’m not a competitive person, as my confidence comes from comprehensive comprehension of my actual abilities and proven powers, and of what’s necessary and what’s not. Proving points to pathetic, petty, puerile people isn’t part of my plan, my primary priority is to only focus on facts, and I appreciate and accept that winning a war against authority agencies and a goofy-ass government ain’t gon’ get me no medals. What makes you think you matter? Do you know how I know y’all are stupid? It’s because you don’t understand anything, but you think you know somethin’. How in the hottest, holiest hell does that work? That don’t even make no motherfuckin’ sense, with your stupid asses! Generally, there ain’t anything to argue against after I’ve addressed a subject, as comprehension makes coming to clear conclusions sort of simple. And what would stupid motherfuckers know about comprehension and clear conclusions? Some synonyms for competitive are cutthroat, cruel, callous, cold-blooded, etc. If being stupid was a sport, the conspirators and co-conspirators would be world-class Olympians and gold medalists. Like I said, defeat is definitely disheartening and disappointing, and can be debilitatingly distracting, which is why the weak-ass weirdos would lay waste to the whole wide world to win. If things will never be the same because of my colossal consciousness and courageous crusading, doesn’t that mean I’m changing things? Your Honor, the conspirators and co-conspirators are audacious enough to credit their “competitive” nature for my elevation and evolution, boasting the bullshit belief that pressure promotes the building and bolstering of super strength. The reality is, me being naturally smarter and more strong-minded than you triggers your intense insecurities that are so debilitatingly distracting that you can’t concentrate on anything aside from making me as miserable and midget-minded as you—which will NEVER happen! Me fighting back isn’t competitiveness, it’s continuation. Do you think working for the goofy-ass government signifies superiority? Bitch, so does ICE agents, so did George Santos, and so does all dumb-ass democrats and retarded-ass republicans, so what the fuck does that mean?! I’m smarter than y’all, so go fuck yourselves! Anyhoo, congratulations to Latto and whoever went from the windows to the walls with her, because if I see one more picture of that lovely light-skinned lady and her bubbly baby bump, I’ll have no choice but to hit the “Not Interested” button. Again, that lie about China controlling TikTok is complete cap, and I can prove it. But speaking of light-skinned ladies, hi, Heather! Click here to see the doppelgänger of you that the Feds keep tacking to my timeline. Still, fuck Figg! As co-conspirators, if y’all are paying attention, none of the nonsense that you’re being fed to forward should make sense to you. First, how the fuck is somebody else gon’ tell you how I feel about shit, especially with my wonderful writing being repetitively remindful? Second, why are y’all fuckin’ with the Feds? Third, does it sound or seem like I give a fuck? If life ain’t a competition, you’re not competitors—you’re insecure idiots who want what others have and are willing to war and wreck yourselves to get it! But soon…
Omniscience