Enough random thoughts. It's joint time. My thumbs hurt.

🚩 OFFICIAL NOTICE OF SOVEREIGNTY AND JURISDICTIONAL WITHDRAWAL 🚩 TO: The HOA Board, The City Council, Process Servers, and Anyone Wearing a Clip-on Tie or Badge NOTICE TO AGENT IS NOTICE TO PRINCIPAL. NOTICE TO PRINCIPAL IS NOTICE TO AGENT. Please be advised that as of January 26, 2026, this parcel of land (hereafter referred to as "The Republic of My Living Room") has formally seceded from your bureaucratic "Rules and Regulations." By stepping onto this propert, you hereby agree to the following Contractual Terms of Interaction: Jurisdiction: You are now entering a Common Law Zone. Your "unmowed lawn" citations have no power here. In this territory, the grass grows to the height mandated by the Great Architect of the Universe, not by a guy named Steve in a polo shirt. Currency: All fines, dues, or "neighborly contributions" must be paid in Physical Silver (99.9% pure), Bitcoin via the Lightning Network, or high-quality heirloom tomato seeds. I do not recognize the Federal Reserve Note; it is "monopoly money" with a better marketing team. The "Smart" Meter: Any attempts to read the electrical meter on the side of this dwelling will be viewed as an act of industrial espionage. My power usage is a private matter between me and the electrons. The HOA "Architecture Committee": My choice to paint the mailbox in "Signal-Jamming Charcoal" is a matter of national security for this household. Digital Privacy: By reading this sign, your biometric data has been recorded by a series of analog mirrors. If you wish to opt-out, please perform a 360-degree turn and walk back to the sidewalk. I AM A SOVEREIGN LIVING SOUL. I am not a "Resident," a "Taxpayer," or a "Member of the Association." I am a free man on the land, and I’m currently busy verifying my node. CC: The Universe, The Local Sheriff, and the Guy in the Van. SIGNED: — @ภ๏รtг๏ภคยt , Executor of the Sovereign Estate.

If you ever feel lonely, just remember there’s a guy in a windowless room in D.C. whose entire job is to read your nostr posts and wonder if you’re actually a threat or just really, really bored.

I just zapped a guy 200 sats on Nostr for a recipe for homemade napalm I mean, sourdough. Try doing that on Venmo without a 3-day holding period and a phone call from a guy named Gary at the compliance desk....

She said she wanted a guy who was solid. So I showed her my stack of 1oz Buffaloes. Turns out she meant emotionally stable. Common misunderstanding. View quoted note →

My financial advisor asked about my "Risk Tolerance." I told him I live in a country with a $34 trillion debt ceiling that’s being used as a limbo bar. My "Risk"is holding anything with a dead president’s face on it.... Buy the dip.

Inflation is just the government's way of telling you that your hard work has a half-life....

Posting on a centralized platform is like shouting in a rented room. Posting on a decentralized protocol is like carving your memes into the foundation of the universe with a cryptographic laser.

I don't have a savings account. I have a digital fortress protected by the laws of thermodynamics. Most have a plastic card that works 90% of the time unless a billionaire in a suit decides it shouldn't.

Just got banned from a Facebook group for trying to trade a "rare haunted mirror" for a year's supply of iodine tablets...

I’m not unemployed. I’m a Freelance Reality Consultant currently on a non-paid sabbatical from the Matrix.

Why does my smart TV need to Update its Privacy Policy? What did it see? Was it the time I ate a whole rotisserie chicken over the sink in the dark? Tell me your price, LG. I know this is blackmail....

The government owns the air and I’m just a tenant with a very high breathing tax....

Everyone's out here Manifesting Wealth. I’m out here manifesting a world where I don't have to explain to a 22-year-old bank teller why I want my entire savings account in quarter rolls....

This is it. The router light is blinking red, the signal bars have vanished, and I'm currently using my neighbor’s unsecured guest Wi-Fi to send one last transmission before the "Dark Winter" begins. THE FINAL TRANSMISSION: GOING DARK 🌑 This is not a drill. The Wi-Fi bars just dropped to zero. My smart toaster just made a suspicious clicking sound. The "Cloud" has officially closed for maintenance, but we all know what that really means: The Great Reset has begun. They finally cut the cord. They couldn't handle the truth about the 1996 Olympics or the fact that I figured out why the "New Car Smell" is actually a sedative used to make us comply with traffic laws. If you’re reading this, you are the resistance. To my enemies: You can take my fiber optics, but you can’t take my spirit. I have enough canned beans and printed-out Wikipedia pages to last through a decade of electromagnetic pulse warfare. To my friends: Meet me at the designated "Dead Drop" (the dumpster behind the abandoned Blockbuster). Bring a compass, a physical map of the county, and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. To my ex: If you’re seeing this, I hope you’re happy with your "stable internet" and your "guy who doesn't think the moon is a hollow projection." Enjoy the simulation while it lasts. I’m switching to Analog Mode. From here on out, my status updates will be delivered via smoke signals and messages tied to the legs of local pigeons. If a pigeon lands on your porch with a note that says "THE BIRDS AREN'T REAL," that’s me. I’ll see you on the other side of the firewall. Or at the library.

STATUS UPDATE: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK Well, it happened. I went to buy a black coffee and a pack of AA batteries this morning, and the card reader told me "Transaction Declined." Nice try, globalists. I see the play... They didn’t "freeze my assets" because of a "security breach" or "suspicious activity." They froze them because yesterday I spent three hours in a Denny’s parking lot explaining the Petrodollar Collapse to a guy in a Cybertruck. The signal is being jammed. To my followers: If you don't hear from me in the next 24 hours, it’s not because I’m "locked out of my mobile banking app" or "waiting for a password reset email." It’s because I’ve been placed in a digital timeout for having too much Unregulated Based Energy. The current situation: Bank balance: $0.00 Current currency: Two silver quarters, a handful of loose ammunition, and a very high-quality drawing of a Charizard. Morale: Peak. They think they can starve me out, but they forget I’ve been training for this since I first watched The Matrix on VHS. I don't need "digital credits" to survive. I have a 20lb bag of basmati rice and a solar-powered calculator. I am the central bank now. If anyone wants to buy a slightly used 2008 Mercedes benz for 0.5 BTC (or three goats and a working shortwave radio), DM me. They can’t freeze a handshake. Stay tethered to the real world, brothers. The reset is coming.

# AN OPEN LETTER TO THE INTERNAL REVENUE SERVICE (AND THE GUY SITTING IN THE VAN DOWN THE STREET) To Whom It May Concern (and specifically Agent Johnson, I know you’re reading this): I am writing to formally notify you that I will no longer be participating in your "Subscription Service" known as Federal Income Tax. Please consider this my 1-star review and formal cancellation of my membership. After a thorough audit of the "Services Provided" section of our contract, I have noticed several discrepancies: Infrastructure: There is a pothole on 4th Street that has been there since the Obama administration. It has its own ecosystem now. I’m not paying for a swamp; I’m paying for a road. Privacy: I’ve noticed a significant lack of it. If you’re going to be in my bank account and my browser history, the least you could do is help me find my keys or suggest a better hair gel. The Moon: Still haven't been back. If I’m paying for the front-row seats, I expect a show. Furthermore, I have moved all my liquid assets into a diversified portfolio of out-of-print holographic Pokémon cards, pre-1964 nickels, and a very promising decentralized currency. Good luck tracking the blockchain on a 1998 Dell Optiplex. If you wish to discuss this further, please send a carrier pigeon to the coordinates I’ve spray-painted on the roof of the local abandoned Blockbuster. Do not send a "Notice of Deficiency." I don’t recognize your zip codes; I only operate in North American Flora and Fauna Zones. P.S. Tell the guy in the "Flowers By Irene" van that his left brake light is out. Safety first, boys. Respectfully (but non-consensually), @ภ๏รtг๏ภคยt

Friend: "Hey, did you see the game last night?" Me: "Which one? The one on TV, or the psychological warfare game the elites are playing with our collective consciousness?" Now the group chat has been quiet for three days....

My bank called to ask about suspicious activity. I told them the most suspicious thing is the fact that they think fiat currency has intrinsic value. They hung up on me. 🤷

The government says it's "Tax Season"... I call it "Subsidizing the Lizard People's Heat Lamps"