Can I Get A Little Clarity From Someone?

 A tweet

Tiny Home Neighborhoods

 A while ago I was ejected from the duplex where I was living, and since then I had the idea to build solar-powered tiny-home neighborhoods, each with a pool and a hot tub, volunteers for cooking each meal, and laundry and a place for each person involved to send/receive mail through the United States Postal Service, or other delivery service.

I feel I've been being manipulated. I've posted about this before. The manipulation is on an astronomical scale; That is to say, those who are manipulating me are either ALIENS, or humans who've propelled themselves into space far enough away from earth to consider themselves "aliens".

I believe I am currently in one of the "solar-powered tiny-home neighborhoods" I originally planned since the first time I was "evicted" aka "thrown out of" the duplex where I was living when I hosted the stand-up comedy show known as "Duplex Comedy Suplex". I created a theme song for Duplex Comedy Suplex. I hosted Duplex Comedy Suplex every week for 2 YEARS. The "powers that be" would have you think that I've been stranded on an island or some bullshit for the past 7-8 years, but I am here blogging to you readers that I'm safe-and-sound in a homeless shelter where I've been staying since March of 2024 till December 2024, logging my experiences.

I've been GLARINGLY AWARE of the attempted manipulations on the part of the FAGGOTS (aka "gay people") who've been CONVICED that certain circumstances would CERTAINLY change how I feel about my sexuality.

If you read previous posts, I've already blogged about such things.

I've recently been watching through a TV show called "LOST", originally aired on a network called "ABC". I'm watching on Netflix, a streaming service which probably found a way to buy the rights to host that show.

LOST is a pretty good show. It's a drama with a few choice comedy moments in each episode.

GOOGLE MAPS tells me that I'm living in Los Angeles, in a town called Chinatown, or China Town. Whether "Chinatown" is an illusion...I'm not sure. It's evident, though, that I've been being "fucked with on an astronomical level", as I've posted before.

If you've been able to read this, somehow, please PLEASE, send me an email through an email address I've set up which can be reached through: financialfreedomfordougculp@gmail.com

Fake Jessica Rabbits

 If you've been a victim of someone trying to lure to in, only to find the girl who was doing the luring tuned out to be a "Fake Jessica Rabbit" 

then you might be a victim of "SOCIAL MEDIA DATING".

There are many ugly people in this world. Some of whom have convinced themselves that "An insult is just flirting, in a different way.". FALSE.

If you've been trying to "snag" someone who's insulted you, directly, or ONLY IN THOUGHT...you might be a communist. You might be a communist who believes that EVERYONE SHOULD BE ABLE TO FIND ANYONE ELSE SEXUAL, NO MATTER WHAT HAS BEEN EXPRESSED TO YOU OTHERWISE. You are a horrible human being, or an approximation of a human being (digital or alien), and you should be murdered. This is not an exaggeration. This is not a joke. If you are ugly, then you are ugly. If you DON'T GET MATCHED in a dating app to someone you thought would match with you, they didn't "MISS A MATCH", they simply weren't interested in you. That's it.

If you believe in God, if you believe in Survival Of The Fittest, if you believe in love, you have to also believe in lust.

LUST is awesome. LUST is a driving force which perpetrates humanity. LUST is necessary to produce feelings of love and affection. If you love something that someone does, that's not lust. LUST isn't a sin. LUST IS NOT A SIN. LUST IS AWESOME.

LUST IS NECESSARY. If you are a boy who took estrogen to try and attract boys, YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF. If you are a girl who took testosterone to try and attract girls, YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF. If you are one of the few who've been thrown into this test to see IF YOU'RE REALLY STRAIGHT...you have my sympathy. You have my empathy. I believe I've been thrown into this "test", masked as a video game, which resembles THE STANFORD PRISON EXPERIMENT, or a STOCKHOLM SYNDROME scenario.

If you're not familiar with THE STANFORD PRISON EXPERIMENT, look it up.

If you're not familiar with STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, look it up.

If you're familiar with one or both, EMAIL ME: financialfreedomfordougculp@gmail.com

YOU LOST!

 Destroy everyone and anyone who's ever taken testosterone to look more like a boy or estrogen to look more like a girl.

KILL EVERYONE!

LAUNCH NUCLEAR MISSILES INTO THE SUN AND MAKE THE SUN GO SUPERNOVA!!! There's a band called Supernova and they have a song called "Math Is Hard". I think that's a reference to make fun of anyone who "doesn't understand" "transition".

I would kill them all myself, but I'd probably end up in prison. I'd like whoever has charge of the nuclear warheads to launch them into the sun, creating a supernova and destroying this universe.

EVERYONE DIES.

A Beer And A Liqueur

 Listen...or read...or however you're consuming this.

I've heard the voices, I've seen so many sights in my lifetime. I'm ready for more. I'm not ready to hear more voices (coming from NOWHERE), but I AM ready to see more sights. I've got plenty of dreams, many of which I've fulfilled within the entertainment industry. I have paid my debts (short of a T-Mobile bill I can pay tonight, but I won't) and I'm on a fast-track to success.

It occurs to me that so many of the voices and requests I've heard are coming from the people I've left behind in my journey and path to happiness. I'm currently staying in a homeless shelter in the greater Los Angeles area, and I've received many nods in acknowledgement of my accomplishments. I was on a walk to a local liquor store and I was trying to remember the phrase "cautionary tale", because I think I've been part of an effort to make ME a cautionary tale of "WHAT CAN HAPPEN TO YOU IF YOU DON'T TAKE EVERY OPPORTUNITY GIVEN TO YOU". What if there are opportunities presented to me that I'm not interested in? If someone asked you to skydive from an airplane without a parachute...WOULD YOU DO IT?! If someone asked you to get stabbed to death "for the experience"...WOULD YOU DO IT?! If someone asked you to go against your sexual nature of everything you feel is right...WOULD YOU DO IT?!

I think there are some free speech "advocates" who've taken things too far. If you know what I'm talking about, you are probably NOT ALLOWED TO RESPOND TO THIS BLOG POST (for some reason). Could that reason be that you've pushed all of your figurative chips into this figurative NON-EXISTENT poker game, to try and please someone who PROMISED you that they would be able to CHANGE MY MIND? Probably. I know I'm right. I know I'm correct. I know that many of you MIGHT be reading this as I type it, which is against every anti-trust law in existence. You might say, "But Doug...you're in a HOLODECK!" or "But Doug, you're living in SLAB CITY (a non-existent place in the state of California) and it's LAWLESS HERE!"

If you've answered, to yourself (or yourselves) in the affirmative to the previous two hypothetical quotes...you deserve to die. It's that simple. Free speech is outlined in the United States Constitution. If you haven't read about it, I recommend it.

I recently had a tweet (POST) flagged on twitter (X) for saying the word "faggy". If you believe in free speech, you know that this flagging was done in error. Where will this resistance to straight people end? Is it World War III (3) the faggots are waiting for? Are the faggots waiting for the hypothetical bombs to drop? Are they waiting and hoping for someone to ASK FOR the hypothetical (MADE UP...that means FAKE) environment from the video games (and now Amazon Prime Video show) Fallout to take place?! WHAT KIND OF AN INSANE PERSON WOULD WANT THAT TO HAPPEN?! Are "patients" and "criminals" in mental hospitals and prisons given too much access to the internet? Is there a hypothetical reality where all of the villains from "Gotham's" Arkham Asylum teaming up to cause chaos from within their prison walls?

If you sympathize, or empathize, with me please follow me on DougHighScore, please subscribe to my first podcast You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp (iTunes and Apple Podcasts) You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp (Spotify) and if you don't want to support either of those podcast platforms, here's another link to get you to other podcast platforms You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp

Also, feel free to check out some of my other social media avenues Doug Culp on YouTube

My New Facebook Profile

Some of the music I've written and performed

Merchandise

I'm also here on TikTok!

TWITCH (I haven't posted in a little while to my Twitch page, but I've recently got my laptop up and working again, so follow and STAY TUNED!)

SEXUAL FRUSTRATION IS DIFFERENT THAN FRUSTRATION

 SEE TITLE

Public Opinion

 It occurs to me that public opinion has an enormous part to play in what's going on here.

I'd like a public apology in the part that's been played by the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT in my "encapsulation" or "entrapment" in this experiment being enforced on "the homeless", aka "Me" aka "Douglas William Culp".

I'd like the semi-trucks filled with duffel bags full of cash, along with all of my personal belongings and a convoy, sent to: 1000 NORTH ALHAMBRA AVENUE, LOS ANGELES, CA, 90012, USA.

I'd like to leave this "establishment", so that I can collect on my earnings on a pizza I created known as "Doug's Delight". Furthermore, I'd like for all of this to happen on the evening of July 3rd, 2024.

There are forces beyond my control or comprehension, trying to keep me here at this homeless shelter where I've been staying since March 8th 2024, who will remain nameless; They will remain nameless because I think there is a group of forces trying to remain nameless...some kind of "anonymous" force. A group which remains nameless, because there are MANY PEOPLE trying to FORCE ME BACK ONTO THE STREETS. I will not go quietly. I will not remain silent, as I am certain that there are many who wish to "maintain order" in an orderless place.

I drank a six-pack of beers, earlier, and I feel good. I feel like the forces who've been keeping me here, against my will, are "willing to wait for me to calm down"...I am calm. I am cogent. I am waiting for an apology on the part of the administrators of said "FEDERAL GOVERNMENT" test, because I am an innocent man.

I realize that this might be a part of some BIGGER GAME (which doesn't feel like a game) and I want for all of those who have been a part of this "BIGGER GAME" to confess what they have been trying to do to me, or what they have been trying to get me to "confess".

The apology that I am asking for can be sent to:

1000 NORTH ALHAMBRA AVENUE

LOS ANGELES, CA

USA

I've recently reached a level, in an app which has been using Solitaire as a means to distract myself and the general public, as "HEART BREAKER". When I was around the age of 3 YEARS OLD, my mom entered me into a contest in a mall, where I won a trophy as "LITTLE MR. HEART BREAKER". I think that the level I've achieved in Solitaire has to do with that. If you disagree with me, let it be known in the reply section of this blog post.

I created a font, which I called "FACE IT FONT", which has all of the letters of the alphabet in capital letters. If you have been reading all of what I've been writing, ONLY IN CAPITAL LETTERS...you are part of the problem. You are menaces to society and you will go to prison for the rest of your pathetic little lives.

If some of you, reading this, have already been sentenced to prison for life sentences I look forward to watching to you all die as a means of capitol punishment.

If your last meal consists of "Doug's Delight", you will be denied. If your last meal consists of anything that I've created in any kitchen, you will be denied.

I look forward to watching you all die.

May I Please Go Back To Rossi's Pizza?

 May I please go back to Rossi's Pizza?

I Think I've Caught Up To "The Simulation" And "The Simulation" Is Not Too Happy About It

 Hey readers...at this point, you realize that I'm sane. I've heard voices, and I've responded to said "voices" ONLY WITH MY MIND, and they've responded to me.

If this is some kind of an attempt to connect with me on a "higher level", because I didn't do ALL OF THE DRUGS, well these blog posts are some kind of a response. I think that's obvious. I just checked with the "grammar check" on the previous sentence, and I was correct.

Whether you refer to this life as "a simulation" or a "pasture cube" or a "simulated hell box from the show Preacher" or a "simulated FPS-style hell from The X-Files and that Netflix show Inside Job", it's clear that there are many forces working to encapsulate what's happening with one life or another...to FUCK WITH ME. Now, when I said "ME" in that previous sentence, I think there are probably many others in the "multiverse" who would agree with me. WE ARE NOT THE SAME, though we might be being fucked with in the same or similar ways.

I re-watched Office Space, yesterday, and then later I re-watched The Fifth Element. There are two or three moments in The Fifth Element where Milla Jovovich has her tits completely exposed. I kept watching, dick in pants, cause it's a great movie. Would I have sex with Milla Jovovich if I met her? Absolutely! Would I take every opportunity while watching every movie/show where tits are exposed to jack off? No. WHY? (you may ask) Cause I'm not a "fuck machine". I'm not a "bonobo" or some kind of a neanderthal, and to those "ALPHAS" who might be reading this...you're on notice.

I see you, I've met you, I'm onto your schemes to try and get others to jack off at every and any opportunity. WHY DO YOU WANT OTHERS TO JACK OFF AT EVERY AND ANY OPPORTUNITY?! WHAT IS YOUR GOAL?! WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE IN THIS WORLD?! Are you a spy, in some kind of a "The Truman Show dude watching from the moon and the sun" capacity? Are you a "secret pervert", or have you been paid by "higher-ups" to try and cause these moments to happen?

Whether you are, or are not, one of these types of people I've described...you're on notice. It's kinda like I've been being observed, and it became GLARINGLY OBVIOUS when I was sleeping in my car on that hillside July 4th, 2021...I think it was 2021, it might have been 2022.

Okay, I'm gonna keep watching the show I was in the middle of watching before typing this blog post.

If you have anything to say in response to this, I posted my address AGAIN in the previous blog post.

Another New Blog Post

 If you have the video that I made, when I was comparison shopping, called "Midnight Mun To The Mocery More", please send it to moqboy@gmail.com

I Was Married From August 2011 Till January 2013

 My marriage was a sham. It was also a shame. I think I was "Bettlejuice'd" into a situation that seemed "insescapable", but I escaped. On our wedding day, my wife "Kaitlin Murphy Nelson" aka "Kaitlin Murphy Culp" called me "gay". I didn't understand what she was talking about, because I'd only ever known her as a woman.

In hindsight, I think she might have been some kind of trans, experiment, made by her father (who might have been my Uncle Blaine...who I think should be murdered) in some kind of a "The Island Of Dr. Moreau" experiment. I married my EX-WIFE in 2011, and we were officially DIVORCED in January of 2013.

I was born in "The Bay Area" between Oakland and San Fransisco in Eden Hospital and we lived in the apartment where my family and I were until I was 2 years old...OR SO I'VE BEEN TOLD.

When I was 2 or 3, we lived in Reno, Nevada. I remember spending some time with a girl named Christina Domino (I'm not sure of the spelling of her name), and one time when we were done hanging out and holding hands my mom said that I had a new friend and I said "Not my FRIEND, Mom...my GIRLFRIEND." I think this was probably the first time I'd expressed an interest in girls...women...females...those who were born with a vagina and all of the physical components required to get impregnated and bear children. Soon after that, my family moved us to a different house in Reno, where I had an argument with a grown woman. The basis of that argument was that "Boys are stronger than girls." Somehow, somewhere in my mind, I knew that I was attracted to this grown woman (who reminded me a Lori Laughlin from the TV show "Full House", who I was very attracted to at a young age). She proceeded to lift me up by both hands and swing me around in a circle, which I loved.

I've been hearing voices, recently, as I've described in previous posts. I had an appointment with a psychiatrist, who I told that I'd been hearing voices, and he told me that I didn't need medication and that I didn't need a second appointment with him. GREAT! I'm sane, and I know I'm sane, because I know that the voices I've been hearing (where I can't see the bodies from which the voices are emanating) are real. I think there is a cadre of people trying to confuse me and annoy me...to the point where when I hear their voices, I can ignore them.

There's a film called "A Beautiful Mind", where a college student "has schizophrenia" (a "disease" which I think can be explained by a blog post I posted TWO POSTS AGO), where the person "suffering" from "schizophrenia" learns to ignore the voices he's been hearing, and he earns a degree.

Something tells me that I've been in some kind of an "observation deck", where I've been talking to people I see and hear, and the cameras pointed at me have been placing me in some kind of an abandoned facility where "there is nobody else here except for me".

If this is the case...TELL ME!

Send me a letter via The UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE addressed to:

DOUG CULP

1000 NORTH ALHAMBRA AVENUE

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90012

How Long Have I Been Being "Joe Dirt'd"

 If you're reading this, you probably already know that I'm being observed. You ESPECIALLY know I'm being observed, if you're reading this while I'm typing this. HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO OBSERVE WHAT I'M TYPING WHILE I'M TYPING?! Was it the unnecessary eye surgery my PARENTS made me get when I was 3 years old? When I was very young, my brother had crossed eyes. I crossed my eyes, VOLUNTARILY, showing that I could also do that. Did they think that that was a sign of trying to imitate my brother? It wasn't. I was simply crossing my eyes cause his eyes were crossed. I didn't think it was special, I didn't think it was awesome. I was simply imitating his crossed eyes.

If my parents are reading this, somewhere (possibly from hell)...FUCK YOU FOR MAKING ME GET THAT UNNECESSARY EYE SURGERY! KILL YOURSELVES! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN ME TO THE EYE SURGEON THAT DAY! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?! Do I have friends who have been helping me to express myself throughout my life?

Remember that day when the sexy woman, who reminds me of "Rebecca" from Full House (I'm not sure I got the spelling of that character's name correct), told me that girls are stronger than boys and I disagreed and she took me by both hands and swung me around? I knew I was attracted to her. If I'd been older I would have had sex with her that day, but I think I was 3 or 4 years old.

There's a Home Grown song where they sing about when "the girls would chase the boys" and the lead singer questions why he ran fast so that the girls couldn't catch him. I feel that. Somehow, I think that song was about me, cause the same thing happened to me as a child. If there's a game called "Girls Chase Boys"...isn't the point of "a chase" to not get caught? I ran SO FAST. It wasn't to "not get tackled by girls"...which I would have loved at that age...I was simply playing a game and running as fast as I could. I was fast.

It occurs to me that, at some point in my life, my family was offered AN AMAZING AMOUNT OF MONEY to "steer" me away from girls. It didn't work. I've always been attracted to girls. Recently, I was employed by Sonic Drive-In. There were 5 or 6 girls, of the age 15...they were hot. I was attracted to them while working with them. I'm in my 41st year of living, and I was 38 or 39 when I worked there. "WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE IN COMMON WITH GIRLS OF THAT AGE?!" the invisible voices might ask. It doesn't matter. I was sexually attracted to them. I would have had sex with 6 or 7 of the girls there if it wasn't against the law....but it is. The law says that a person is an adult and able to have sex at the age of 18 and older. The girls who I was attracted to at that job flirted with me. I flirted back, from a distance. Maybe when they turn 18, they'll still think of me.

If you know me, if you REALLY know me, you know that I'm only attracted to women in a sexual way. Have I "gravitated" towards men who are creative or who make me laugh? Sure. It's not enough for a sexual attraction. There are men. There are women. There are males. There are females. I'm a man, attracted sexually to women. I'm a male sexually attracted to females.

If I wake up one day, in a simulator (similar to the one in Rick And Morty, or The Matrix), and someone walks up to me telling me that they were the one who "created" all of the women and females I met while in this "life", I'd say to them "Oh...cool." THEN WOULD I BE ALLOWED TO WALK AWAY FROM WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS STUPID FUCKED UP SIMULATION IS?!

CAN WHOEVER IS READING THIS (unless you're an actual woman, acting in your best interests to start a family and have a life outside of this simulation), KILL YOURSELVES?! If there's some verson of the character called "Mouse" from The Matrix, very impressed with himself on how realistic the women he's "created" within this simulation exists...I want him to die. THEN CAN I LEAVE THIS LITERAL SIMULATION?!

Am I Hooked Up To One Of These?

 

I Went Back To Church After Not Having Gone To Church For A While

 I can't remember the last time I went to church. The last time I was there, some faggot "bore his testimony" on how he's attracted to men. I want that person to die. If you believe in God, and you are truly dedicated to faith in God, then you MUST BE STRAIGHT.

If you are "a gay" and you are reading this, please kill yourself immediately after reading this post. The church I was raised in claimed "Visitors Welcome"...if you are a "Visitor" and you are a man attracted to men, or man, KILL YOURSELF.

There's a very important animated Disney movie that taught a very important lesson. The time that "Jafar" wished for Jasmine to fall in love with him, the "genie" in that movie let "Jafar" know that that wish could not be granted. Jasmine played along, to help "Aladdin" defeat "Jafar", and if you've seen that movie, you know the rest. Aladdin and Jasmine ended up together and they probably fucked. Cartoons don't show us that part, because they are movies meant for children.

If you are a reader of this blog, and you saw my previous blog post, PLEASE RESPOND.

I had a six-pack of beer today. They wouldn't let me bring it in, so I drank it outside. I didn't drink all six beers at once, but I drank them in stages.

I had two weird dreams last night. One of them was me, meeting up with my sister, and taking her by the small of her back on the way back to her room. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?! I'M NOT ATTRACTED TO MY FAMILY IN A SEXUAL WAY?! Clearly, that dream was from somewhere else, or someone else.

The second dream I had, last night, was about those weird rooms in the movie Inception, where a bunch of people were laying on beds and continuously dreaming. Looks like a nightmare. WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO CONTINUOUSLY DREAM, UNLESS YOU ARE A FAGGOT/GAY/HOMO TRYING AND TRYING FOR A DIFFERENT SOLUTION TO THE "GAY SOLUTION"? Currently I'm feeling a "tug" on my right upper-lip. WHY AM I FEELING THAT?! WHY IS MY UPPER LIP ALTERED FROM HOW IT USED TO FEEL A FEW DAYS AGO?!

If you have any answers for me, please send me an email to: moqboy@gmail.com

If you'd rather write me a hand-written letter, please send correspondence to: 1000 NORTH ALHAMBRA AVENUE, LOS ANGELES, CA, 90012

I Threw Up Earlier

 I bought some more booze. The stupid fucks who run the Weingart had the unintelligent sense to include a "no alcohol" rule in their policy. WHY?! Alcohol gives a good feeling. It tastes AWFUL, but it gives a good feeling and it helps me express myself in ways I haven't experienced previously.

If you are a provider of alcohol, please send me alcohol to:

1000 North Alhambra Avenue

Los Angeles, California, 90012

Twitter Aka "X" Is Getting Really Horny Lately

 It occurs to me that there are some forces trying to get me to jack off WHENEVER POSSIBLE. Listen...look...read...there are times when I'm horny/randy/willing ot jack off. There are times when I just wanna chill and spend my time avoiding "The Borg". I think I've beaten the "Space Captain's Test" aka "The Kobayashi Maru". It's supposed to be an "unwinnable" test. A test that "can't bea beaten". I've beaten it...probably an innumerable amount of times now. The test that was supposed to "queer me up" is SO MAD that it's been trying and trying to get me to try and accept terms that I don't respond to.

Once, when I was in a comic book store known as Meltdown Comics, one of the sellers of comic books told me that he didn't like "Terfs". I didn't know what that term meant, so I didn't really have a response. I learned, later, that "Terf" is a term that means "Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist". I don't care. I honestly don't care about what you think about straight men, unless you're a woman who wants to have sex with me, who I'm also attracted to.

Recently, someone contacted me about acquiring my art, for $500/week over a period of 6 months. I am worth more than that. I think that I've put more into this "simulation" or "pasture cube" to earn MORE THAN $500/week, each week, for the rest of my life.

I had a weird dream last night. Someone was pretending to be Ella, from the Amazon Prime series Fallout, and tried to convince me that I'm in some kind of a "solarium". I don't care. I don't care what your "goal" is with me. If you are a man with a penis and balls, or a penis and no balls, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH ME SEXUALLY!

Something tells me that the nerds on twitter have been using some kind of a character creator tool, trying to get me to "accept terms" that I've not been privy to. Something else tells me that my smartphone use, not associated with Apple, is an attempt to change my sexual preference. I've referred to this before. There's an animated movie made in the 1990's where one of the characters tries to "wish" for someone to be attracted to him. It didn't work.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that my life feels like it's on rails and I don't appreciate it. At one of the homeless shelters I stayed at, before this one, someone told me that I look like Robin Williams. I don't see the resemblance. This might be an attempt from the "Disney" company to get me to try and go to Disney Land or Disney World, while I'm homeless. The last time I was in Anaheim, everything felt weird. It felt different enough that I knew something was wrong.

Once, when I was high on marijuana, I thought of a video game idea where the player and friends could get high together. There were plans of scanning things into the digital world, from the real world, and there would be points involved. I think I beat that game, the day I had my car towed. The tow-truck driver asked me to follow them on twitter. I think that driver thought that I knew who he was, based on some kind of an "Eye-Phone" referenced on a cartoon called Futurama. The two-truck driver resembled a stand-up comedian known as Chris Hardwick...a name that seems to be made up. I once had an experience at a stand-up comedy show known as The Meltdown, and he asked me what I would do now that The Meltdown was canceled. I told him that I would probably do more stand-up comedy. He asked me to do one of my jokes, and I did. I got laughs from the entire crowd, and one of the hosts said "That's a pretty good joke". I've been proven that I'm funny. I know comedy. I know how to make people laugh. I know that I can make a living in the comedy realm.

If you or anyone you know, has a connection to the comedy universe, CONTACT ME in the comments section of this blog post.

I Feel Like My Life Is On Rails Right Now And I Don't Appreciate It

 Listen...read...whatever you consider paying attention to a blog post...I HATE those who oppose me. I HATE those who are yelling at me through "the ether". I HATE those who are mad that I've been watching more episodes of the Star Trek genre without them, and who think that I OWE THEM ANYTHING. I started a podcast with my dad, where we were originally gonna watch Star Trek Enterprise as a watch-a-long podcast, and that would be all. For some reason, while we were watching the first episode of Star Trek Enterprise, I had the idea to watch EVERY SINGLE STAR TREK EPISODE AND MOVIE IN TIMELINE ORDER with my dad as a podcast, and so I suggested it. The podcast we started is called "Star Trek Enterpods". Listen to it, if you want. If you don't want to listen to it, I don't give a fuck.

The task of watching EVERY SINGLE STAR TREK EPISODE AND MOVIE IN TIMELINE ORDER, is vast. It also feels like a challenge as some kind of a "Kobayashi Maru" aka "Space Captain's Test", and I don't care if I fail. Honestly, at this point, I couldn't care less if every single human on or around, or in the vicinity of this blog post dies and I have some time to myself to live without voices in my head trying to tell me what to do and what I am. If my family aren't ACTUALLY blood-related, I hate that they've tried to glom onto my "fame" and my "Metacritic score", and I wish that they would all die horrible deaths.

I've been hearing "You're on a podcast", and those same voices have been saying something about closets or some other fag-related shit. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MY SEXUALITY! I HOPE YOU DIE AND I HOPE YOU PROVIDE PROOF THAT YOU ARE DEAD! IF THIS IS AN OMICRONIAN THING, TURN OFF THE SIMULATION! KILL YOURSELVES SO THAT I NEVER HAVE TO HEAR YOUR VOICED OPINIONS OF WHAT IS GOING ON WITH MY LIFE!!! That said, if you are ACTUALLY trying to hook me up with women I'm sexually attracted to, who are also sexually attracted to me, let's talk. I think some of you have MISINTERPRETED the word "women" or "woman" or "female" to include "those who are faithful to men" or "those who are faithful to me" or "those who are faithful to man", etc. To those of you who DON'T UNDERSTAND what I mean, I HATE YOU AND I WISH FOR YOU TO DIE IMMEDIATELY AFTER THIS SENTENCE HAS ENDED. There's a faggot who lives on my same floor, walking around shirtless and with his pants sagging...kill him...MURDER HIM IN FRONT OF MY FACE! I DON'T CARE ABOUT HIM! I DON'T CARE ABOUT MOST OF THE PEOPLE IN AND AROUND THIS HOMELESS SHELTER! I AM SO TIRED OF BEING HOMELESS! I WOULD LIKE TO LEAVE THIS VERSION OF LOS ANGELES, which might be The Dominican Republic, AS SOON AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE! IF YOU CONSIDER "HUMANLY POSSIBLE" A REFERENCE TO THE TV SHOW "COMMUNITY"...KILL YOURSELF OR YOURSELVES IMMEDIATELY AFTER THIS SENTENCE!

I'd like for any and all living beings, reading this blog post, to PAY ME FOR MY EFFORTS, to PAY ME FOR MY ART, and to PAY ME FOR STILL BEING ALIVE AFTER 40 YEARS ON THIS EARTH! MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP IN DECEMBER, AND I AM EXPECTING MASSIVE RESULTS IN THE WAY OF GIFTS AND MONEY AND CASH AND A WAY OUT OF BEING HOMELESS! I OWN LAND! I NEED TO LEAVE THIS FUCKING HOMELESS SHELTER AND PAY THE LAND TAXES AND I NEED TO FIND WORK! I NEED TO FIND WORK THAT ISN'T SEX WORK! I NEED TO FIND WORK THAT ISN'T "UNDER THE TABLE"! I NEED TO WORK AGAIN AND I EXPECT READERS OF THIS BLOG POST TO HELP ME FIND WORK! WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T YOU HELPED ME FIND WORK YET?! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU READING THIS BLOG POST IF YOU CARE ABOUT ME AND MY WELL-BEING AND YOU HAVEN'T HELPED ME FIND WORK YET?!

IF YOU ARE "A GAY" I WANT YOU TO KILL YOURSELF! IF YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO HAS ASSOCIATED YOURSELF WITH "THE GAY PRIDE PARADE", I WANT YOU TO KILL YOURSELF! I HATE GAYS! I HATE EVERYTHING THEY STAND FOR! I HATE ALL OF YOU BUTT-MUNCHERS AND I WANT YOU TO KILL YOURSELVES!!!!

If that's what you need to hear/read/see to let me leave this bout of homelessness, then there it is.

KINDLY, KILL YOURSELVES. Jump off a bridge and point your head at the ground as you dive to your death(s). Do a "suicide by COP". Do SOMETHING so I never have to hear your voice(s) ever again. Petition your local cable and streaming companies to CANCEL the LOGO channel. Petition pocdast companies to CANCEL ANY AND ALL PODCASTS HAVING TO DO WITH ANYTHING IN THE WORLD OF "GAY". CANCEL YOURSELVES if you're reading this as I'm typing this. Kill yourselves.

That's all. I hope all of you faggots/gays/homos die, and I hope any and all women/females/girls with the ability and BODY PARTS to have children born out of their vaginas support me in this.

I Had Some Weird Dreams Last Night

 One of the dreams I had last night was directly related to the movie "The Matrix". In that dream, someone pulled the brain-connecter thingy from someone else's head. That's all I remember from that dream. There was another dream where some festival was happening, and my brother and I were wearing some kind of a prison jumpsuit with numbers on our backs. I don't know what was happening in that dream, but that's all I remember from that one. I think there was a third dream, but I don't remember it.

If you, or anyone you know (or are acquainted with), knows what I'm referring to as I'm typing, please let me know.

I recently talked on the phone with a high school friend of mine who's having a baby with his wife. COOL! I mentioned that that baby would probably need a "cool Uncle Doug", and I think that's directly related to the "Uncle Jesse" character from a TV show called Full House. At a certain point in the call, he started telling me that I shouldn't get stagnant....a word I think has been "acquired" or "stolen" from a bunch of faggots who fuck each other's butts. The definition of stagnant deals with sameness.

I'm only attracted to women...not ALL women...but women, nonetheless. If you are a woman, and I'm not attracted to you, you might have been sent from hell to "tempt" me into maybe "getting" with you. There is a gaggle of ugly women at this homeless shelter where I've been staying. This shelter, of the 4 I've stayed at, is still the best one. I have a private bedroom, a private bathroom, a private shower, and I'm able to think my thoughts without any interruption.

Girls, if you are younger and you consider yourself a woman, I'm here to tell you that you are (or will be) old enough to be considered a woman I'm attracted to. Recently I was employed at Sonic Drive-In. There were 3 or 4 girls who were 15 and very attractive. The law says that I would have to wait till they're 18 to have sex with them. I'm also here to tell you that, if the laws were different, I would have had sex with 7 or 8 of the girls who worked at that Sonic Drive-In. I won't name them, to protect their identities, but if you're reading this you know who you are. I also worked with men at this Sonic Drive-In. To those men I say "Hello, have a good day." and that's all.

"You're done!" the voices said. Is someone trying to narrate a book that I'm not writing? Is someone trying to narrate my life? WHY WOULD THEY BE TRYING TO DO THAT?! WHY WOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED IN ME AND MY LIFE AND MY SEXUAL INTERESTS?! If there are women interested in my sexual interests (only girls/women/females), then let's talk. Let's talk here in the comments section of THIS BLOG POST, and then we can move on to phones and meeting each other in person.

"You're 'Y The Last Man'" is another thing the voices have said. Well...that's a comic book that was turned into a TV show on the FX Network, which was supported by hulu. Have there been multiple attempts on my life while I've been living? Have there been multiple attempts to get me to "off myself" by those I'm not attracted to? All signs point to YES.

I feel I'm being protected by a consortium of those who thought I might one day be attracted to them, only to find out that I wouldn't be attracted to them, but I think some of those who are claiming to "protect" me are actually shielding me from the women in and around my life who've been trying to contact me and have sex with me.

Porn is fine. Porn is fun. Watching porn and jacking off is NOT "HAVING SEX". It's an indicator of who I'm attracted to (the women and girls in these porns), but to the faggots/gays/homos who'd say otherwise, I ask you to please commit suicide. Please kill yourselves and provide me proof that you've done so, so that I can sleep peacefully knowing that I may actually be "Y The Last Man" or "Paul Moadib". The two newest Dune movies were bad. It felt like the two movies could have been condensed into one movie. I saw them both in the theater...a theater that felt EERILY like a movie theater that I used to work at in Northern Kentucky. The arcade was different...it was bad. Also the movie theater was two stories tall (AS IF THAT WOULD MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE IN A MOVIE-GOING EXPERIENCE). The movie theater to which I'm referring doesn't accept Apple Pay. I don't know why that would be a stopping point...the only thing that would make that make sense is that the faggots/gays/homos who've been controlling my movements think that they've "got me". I think I'm going to get an iPhone. I've never owned an iPhone. I made fun of the way everything looked "so clean" and the way they charge EVERY MONTH for Apple Music and storage is awful and dumb.

I've owned 8 or 9 Android phones, over the years, which have probably been trying to distance me from those using iPhones. I don't understand why that would happen, unless it's related to the consortium of faggots/gays/homos trying to "get me". To those associated with "the rainbow" or "the rainbow road" or "valhalla" or whatever other name you have for "the road to gayness", I'd like for you to kill yourself, and provide proof that you're dead. Send me videos of your death(s), with notes on why you killed yourself and who sent me the video, and if they also killed themself(ves) after sending.

What's The Name Of The Place Where I Am?

 If you know, you're obligated to tell me. I wish for you to tell me the name of the place where I am.

I just recorded episode 448 of my podcast. I also had two drinks before this blog post. The voices are saying "Walk away" and "We hate you" and "We're breaking up". I honestly don't know where these voices are coming from, but I want them to stop. STOP MONITORING ME. STOP OBSERVING ME. GIVE ME WHAT I'VE BEEN ASKING FOR VIA MY THOUGHTS.

"Fuck you" they just said. "You're done!" they just said. Who is "they" and WHY ARE THEY ABLE TO PENETRATE MY MIND WITH THEIR THOUGHTS?!

I think this has something to do with something called "Neuralink". It's an intrusive procedure, claiming to promote "telepathy", but it's actually an implant in the brain without the "patient's" knowledge or permission.

If I've been experimented on, without my knowledge or permission, the experimenters ARE GOING TO DIE, and I'm VERY okay with that. "Ohhhhh, but we're making you a SHOW to show how CREATIVE YOU ARE!"...no...you've been experimenting on me since I demonstrated I'm straight as soon as I was old enough to show an interest in girls.

If you are a "faggot" or a "butt-muncher" or a "gay" or one of the letters in the STUPID RAINBOW INITIATIVE...kill yourself. I hate you and I want you to die. I want to watch you die, and I hope I get to watch you die. I wish for the opportunity to watch those who've been penetrating my thoughts die.

Whether it's murder, or suicide...I don't care. I want those who've been observing me without my knowledge or permission, to die. KILL YOURSELVES AND LET ME WATCH SO I CAN MAKE SURE YOU'RE ACTUALLY DEAD.

Let Me Leave This "Progressive" School

 I'm on S0401 of Sex Education and the students are in this new school that's so "PROGRESSIVE" that they've forgotten the meaning of learning and replaced learning with "SEXUAL CREATIVITY" and I'm completely turned off. I've had a couple drinks, and I'm responding honestly to how I feel about this "new school of thought" and to any "non-binary" or "gender-queer" or "gender-fluid" people I say "KILL YOURSELVES.".

I've had enough of this sexual experiment where you're trying to "PUSH" me into something I'm "not accustomed to". I'd rather you all throw yourselves off a bridge into a pit of spikes, compared to the pit of spikes on the video game "Mortal Kombat" on the level called "The Pit".

I'd like for any, AND ALL, gender-queer and gender fluid folks to KILL THEMSELVES by jumping off a cliff and guaranteeing your deaths by having a pit of LITERAL SPIKES (aka stalagtites) to impale yourselves so that you bleed out and so that you never bother me again in the angle of "MAYBE HE'S JUST NOT READY..." mentality.

To those of you, reading this, saying "Wow, he protests too much." I say "KILL YOURSELF."

I'm serious.

If you are any version of a "gay", KILL YOURSELF.

I'd really appreciate it, as I have ZERO INTEREST in your "CREATIVE SEXUALITY" and I'd really love for you to kill yourself/yourselves and send me proof that you've died to MOQBOY@GMAIL.COM

That's all for this blog post. I hope you faggots kill yourselves and send me proof.

ALSO...if you'd like for me to receive any, AND ALL, of your money you've earned in the process of "EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY", send me what you've earned here:

Venmo: Doug's Venmo

CashApp: Doug's CashApp

PayPal: Doug's PayPal

The Term "Non-Binary" Is Probably Something Invented By The Faggots To Attempt To Confuse The Straights Into Gay Stuff

 If you are "non-binary" and you are reading this...kill yourself.

Okay...are they all dead? Good. Now, onto some serious stuff.

If the "non-binary" people out there, have a dick, and are pretending not to have a dick...WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR GOAL?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON THE PLANET?! WHY ARE YOU ALIVE?!

If there are any straight people, who've been deceived by a "non-binary" person...reply to this blog post. Tell your story. Tell me how you've been deceived, and tell me what you would do to the "non-binary" person who deceived you.

If there are any people who've read Ready Player One AND Ready Player Two...tell me why Ready Player One is better than Ready Player Two. If there are any video game players out there who've seen that STUPID episode of Black Mirror where the two friends play "Strikers X" and then meet in person and kiss and there's no chemistry...reply in the comments section as to why that episode didn't end after they kissed and there was no chemistry. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TRY AND TRICK YOURSELF/VES INTO FALSE CHEMISTRY?! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TRY AND TRICK YOUR BODY AND MIND AND SOUL INTO SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T EXIST BECAUSE OF PIXELS ON A SCREEN?!?!

WHY ARE YOU READIN THIS IF YOU'RE NOT ALSO COMMENTING AND SHARING?!

If you are a fan of my creative processes...share this post and all of my previous posts.

If you are NOT a fan of my creative processes...KILL YOURSELF, or stop reading.

Send Me Hookers

Send me hookers who were born female and can get pregnant. Let me leave this pasture cube known as "WHAT'S POSSIBLE?!?" cause I'm only interested in having sex with women. I'd like to "spread my seed" for more of the world to experience straightness.

It's the way this world was meant to be. You need to let me leave this "faggosphere", or whatever you call it. There are thousands upon thousands of women I would have sex with right now, if they would flirt with me.

Not only am I good at expressing myself, but I'm also good at knowing when I'm not sexually turned on. If this upsets you...kill yourself. If this intrigues you...send me a comment in the comments section. If you don't know what a "comments section" is, it's the little "reply" button contained within these blog posts.

It occurs to me that there are probably many people who flung themselves off of buildings after seeing The Matrix or any of the Spider-Man movies. To those of you who've actually done that...finish the job and kill yourselves. If you've pelted yourself in the head with a hammer because of something I've seen or read...finish the job and kill yourselves. If there is only one of you reading this...kill yourself.

Just...kill yourself. I don't want to have anything to do with you unless you're a woman/girl/female whom I've been attracted to or whom I've yet to be attracted to.

The reason I've been protesting any (and all) advances put forth by men/man/boys is that I'm straight. If there was no protest, then you'd give yourself/yourselves a reason to keep advancing.

The truth is, if you're a faggot/gay/fancy boy/dandy, I want you to kill yourself. KILL YOURSELF AND SEND ME PROOF THAT YOU'RE DEAD.

it Occurs To Me That I've Been Being FUCKED WITH On An Astronomical Level

 Hey readers, another blog post here. I'm watching an episode of Sex Education (S02E05) and I've had a couple drinks. Some wheelchair kid just "dropped" some books for Maeve to pick up for him. DUMB.

The "voices" keep telling me "You're 'Y The Last Man.'". This would make sense, if there were no other men around my area, but there are other men around my area. I don't care about them.

Gillian Anderson is now doing asexual lesson on the vagina. I feel like there are "aliens", (literal or figurative) trying to get in contact with me. Some of these "aliens" might be virgins, waiting and hoping for sex advice from me.

Once, at a homeless shelter I was living at (two homeless shelters ago) some dude asked me how to set up his phone. I showed him, then he asked me HOW TO FIND PORN...duh dude. I didn't show him anything. I think he was asking for specific details, as in what kind of porn...I didn't say anything. I think this was another attempt from "the faggots" aka "the gays" to connect with me sexually. I didn't care to connect in that way.

Once there was a video I was paid to be in called "The Most Orgasmic Man Alive". In that video, I was scripted to say that I was having an orgasm, while I was completely limp. This video can be found on YouTube here: Is This The Most ORGASMIC Man In THE WORLD?!?!?!

I was not only limp, while we were filming this video, but I would have definitely had sex with this woman who introduced herself as "Layla", if the dude who she was with wasn't around.

Am I qualified to give sex advice? Yes.

Will I give said "sex advice" for free? No.

Pay me.

Venmo: Doug-Culp

CashApp: DougsNugs

PayPal: Doug's PayPal

LEAVE A NOTE IN THE DESCRIPTION OF YOUR PAYMENT THAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR ADVICE! Then we'll talk more. PAY ME FIRST, then we'll talk.

Another Tweet

 I Beat The Simulation

I Wonder If I'm Even Here

There's a song by this band called Mighty Six Ninety, a reference to a radio station, where the lead singer sings "I wonder if I'm even here..."

I know I'm where I am, but I'm still not sure where "where I am" is. I heard of this haunted house once; Supposedly, this haunted house had so many levels that you had to sign a waiver to enter. I'd heard that, if you make it out of that haunted house, they pay you for how many levels you got through. WHERE'S MY PAYMENT?! I believe I've been in some version of that haunted house, without my knowledge or permission, and I'm ready to be paid.

Remember that podcast episode I released called "Shut Up And Pay Me"? REMEMBER?!?! I had this dream last night, which was definitely "implanted" somehow (probably via the dream-linking machine I told listeners to "Please don't make"), and I'm still here. I'm living in a homeless shelter; I'm grateful that this homeless shelter has privacy and I have my own private bathroom and internet access. I'm sitting here, alone, in a bedroom, in what seems like a shipping container stacked on two other shipping containers, and I got a vaccination earlier. I was paid in the form of a $20 gift card. IF YOU THINK THAT COUNTS AS PAYMENT FOR HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN THROUGH...YOU ARE GOING TO DIE. YOU ARE GOING TO BE MURDERED (probably by lethal injection or firing squad) AND I'M GOING TO HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF WATCHING IT ALL AND LAUGHING.

Kill yourselves, after reading this.

I Was Once On A Dating Show Called "Bagged"

 This dating show presented three contestants with a potential date with a girl I wasn't really attracted to; One of the segments of this show had us individually tell this girl what we would do sexually with her. I was vague. I wasn't looking forward to winning this show. Good thing I lost! It was on a website called "Myx.tv".

At one of the previous homeless shelters I stayed at I met a dude who called himself "Money". DUMB NICKNAME! One time he told me that he was gonna start dating girls he's not attracted to. WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT!!! WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THAT?! I've done that more than a few times, but those were "Beetlejuice" scenarios. Whoever has been monitoring me is VERY AWARE that I'm talking about this.

I went to a bowling alley, earlier today, to let their hiring manager know that I submitted 4 applications to work there. I also went there to bowl a game. I thought I had more money in my account, but I've spent a little more than I anticipated this month. I didn't even have enough to bowl 1 game. I haven't bowled in 4 or 5 months. I miss it. For some reason, the bowling alley I applied to charges $12/hour to play pool. WHAT?!? I've seen games of pool cost as little as $1. HOW IS CHARGING $12/hour for playing pool LEGAL?!

I've been playing some solitaire; It's fine, but it's lacking.

There's a girl here at this homeless shelter who's exchanged shy and interested glances and greetings with me. I'm gonna ask her out next time I see her.

Something tells me that, wherever I've been moved to (a place that doesn't feel like Los Angeles) doesn't want me to date. I don't know why, and I don't know how...something else tells me that it has something to do with the 40-YEAR LONG JOKE someone has been playing on me.

To those of you who've been FUCKING WITH ME aka MESSING WITH ME aka JOKING AT MY EXPENSE: KILL YOURSELVES.

I Had Some Disturbing Dreams Last Night

 I had some disturbing dreams last night; One of them was not disturbing, but funny. There's a show called Detroiters, a pre-cursor to a show called I Think You Should Leave With Tim Robinson. The two main cast members from both of those shows were in that funny dream. They presented a joke that made me laugh, and I presented a joke to both of them that made the three of us laugh. I won't go into specifics, as I'm almost certain that my dreams have been being documented somewhere.

I once wrote a song called "Sleep Well". In that song, I instructed any, and all, listeners "Please don't make that dream machine". The song talked about a machine that involved the creation of a "dream-linking machine". In another part of the song, I wrote "I guess that you could call it a song"; That "song" to which I was referring was the song itself...a warning to all those who were thinking of ACTUALLY making a "dream-linking machine", a horror in and of itself.

I thought I was being as specific as I possibly could. If any observers of this blog post are watching/listening/reading, have been involved in the making of an ACTUAL "dream-linking machine", I ask now that you sever that connection and destroy that "dream-linking machine". I've been having dreams that seem like they've been implanted into my subconscious; This is invasive, intrusive, and unwelcome...to some.

There are other dreams I've had that have been VERY welcome...and those dreams seem to have been cut short. I don't understand all that has happened to me in the past 40+ years, but I'm certain I've been "being fucked with", and I'd like to be let in on the joke so that I can be laughed WITH instead of laughed AT.

I'm funny. I know that for a fact. I understand, and appreciate, the humors I've been presented with even though some (or all) of them have been made at my expense.

There's a book called "Ready Player One". Something tells me that these jokes that were made at my expense were a part of a bigger story. I just cleared my throat, something that was undoubtedly recorded by those observers who've been watching me like a bunch of chicken-hawks; To those of you observing me writing this blog post, I demand to know how you have been observing me when I'm sitting in a private bedroom in a homeless shelter I've been staying at while I'm trying to proverbially get my feet back on the ground.

My cell phone service was recently halted from the generous, or joking, hands of a company called Cricket Wireless. I'd like my cell phone service restored, and I'd like my old phone number back. There are some phone apps I've been using, some of which ask for my phone number. The phone number I used from 2005 - 2021 or 2022 is the phone number I wish to continue using. It's a phone number that was activated in Northern Kentucky. I'm currently living in Los Angeles, or so I am told, and something tells me that there are those using a Tesla-inspired creation of "wireless electricity" which is both harmful and invasive. If I am, indeed, living in Los Angeles, "the electricians" who've been messing with me to an anguishing degree have been having fun at my expense and I'm ready to see through "the veil" of the joke.

You're going to have to let me leave, with all of my belongings and duffel bags full of cash. I need better joke-writers. I need to get paid more, and I want to work. If these blog posts inspire "the entertainment industry" to make more entertainment for me, you've done that before. I've written pilot scripts, I've written spec episodes of existing shows, I've written music, I've created a font of all capital letters, and I've been hearing dissent from those who want to keep me under them; I want "them" to drop dead. Use whatever means necessary to do that, but do it soon. Sometime within the next 48 hours would be great; I'd also like proof that you've dropped dead, along with an apology letter, sent to the address I've provided in my previous blog post.

Good day to you all.

Is This A Post From The Past Or From The Future?

 Listen...read...whatever makes sense to your eyes and ears...I've had a couple drinks, and I've recorded 445 episodes of my first podcast called: You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp.

If you listen already...great. If you don't...give it a listen or two or three or 400 or more.

I've interviewed hundreds of funny people, some not as funny, and some simply entertaining. I've had some great solo episodes where I had fun with sounds, did a KILLER Malcolm MacDowell impression, and some episodes are so short you won't be sure if that was a full episode or if I stopped recording a little too soon.

You can listen to it here:

You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp

I release a new episode every Friday. I've missed some time, while I've been experiencing homelessness, and I think there are some very specific people to blame for that homelessness. I won't say their names here, to protect their identities, because when their identities are revealed I'm PRETTY SURE they're going to be killed...not a joke.

Be it a "The Matrix" simulation, be it a "holodeck" or "holosuite" or "dreamatorioum"...I don't care. What I care about is my life and the lives of those who've helped me along the way.

Will some of them die? Yes. Will I live? Yes.

Simply put...there are many stories out there with time variances and paradoxes and "The Ship Of Theseus" etc etc blah blah blah...I've made a lot of mistakes. One in a parking lot of a 7-Eleven when I got Beetlejuice'd to a driver's side door of some faggot's car, one when I got married to some bitch who called herself "Kaitlin Murphy Nelson", one when I briefly dated a crazy bitch who called herself "Chevon Medbin"...all of these mistakes, and more, have probably been heavily documented.

There are two who've contacted me over and over again, mentioning things they couldn't possibly have known about...unless I've been living in some sort of simulation. Call it a "Stockholm Syndrome Scenario", call it a "Stanford Prison Experiment", call it one of the Mission Impossible scenarios...all I know for sure is that I've been being pranked my entire life.

Punk'd? Maybe. Candid Camera? Maybe. Just For Laughs? Possibly (some moments in my life could only be described as "Well...he needed better writers.".

I'm posting this blog on May 23rd, 2024, at around 6:06 PM, Pacific Standard Time. If that means something to you, you either know what I'm talking about and where I'm coming from, or you don't.

As the stupid idiot assistant principal of my high school used to say: "Make it a great day...or not...the choice is yours." That guy was grasping at straws, probably trying to find the most objectively neutral phrase to say to the student body as possible. I don't remember another word he ever said.

IF YOU'VE READ ALL OF THIS, and you think my podcast deserves sponsorship, send me some suggestions to MOQBOY@GMAIL.COM, ONLY AFTER YOU'VE ALREADY CONFIRMED WITH SAID COMPANIES THAT THEY WOULD BE INTERESTED.

I'M SICK OF BEING HOMELESS. I'M READY TO MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. I'm almost certain I'm already famous...if you care about me at all, please help me get RICH AND FAMOUS.

That's all for now. Take care of yourselves.

How Many Clipboards Are You Using?

 If you're not using clipboards, then how many tablets are you using?

If you're not using tablets, then how many writing instruments are you using?

If you're not using writing instruments, then how many recordings are you making?

If you're not recording, then how many times have you been streaming?

If you're not streaming, then HOW ARE YOU OBSERVING ME, AND WHY ARE YOU OBSERVING ME?

How long has this been going on? Do you feel okay? Do you feel ANYTHING?

This blog post feels forced. Shut up; Pay me.

Venmo: @Doug-Culp

CashApp: $DougsNugs

PayPal: Doug Culp's PayPal Link

WHAT IF HE LOOKED LIKE "THIS"???

 There have been many attempts to get me to "flirt" with men; I'm not interested.

There have been voices SCREAMING the "g" word at me, trying to convince me they are referring to "the happy definition". I wish for all of those voices to stop. KILL YOURSELVES, if that is what you need to get me to leave. I had a cool dream last night, where I was called back to a job a I used to have where I printed labels for a company. I'd like to get back to that job. I was paid, very well, and the minimum wage in California has gone up. If I find my way back to that job, I will be getting paid more than I was getting paid when I was working there in the first place.

If you have the ability, HELP ME GET BACK THERE. The "there" I'm referring to is North San Diego County. I had fun at that job. I had three breaks a day, and I was able to save up enough money to get me to move up to Los Angeles to try my hand at being a part of the entertainment industry.

Something tells me that there are multiple people trying to coerce those in the entertainment industry to "Just be bi-sexual...it would make everything SO MUCH EASIER.".

I'm here to tell you that that reality doesn't exist for me. The two "faggots" aka "gay men" who've been able to get through to my cellular signal asked me the last time they got me to answer their calls, that I was "protesting too much". Their attempts to try and "engage" me in this argument, is another attempt from the "faggots" or "gays" to try and "convert" me to their ways.

I've posted in a blog, before this one, that the animated movie where a "street rat" found a magic lamp and some faggot named "Jafar" wished for some animated lady named "Jasmine" to fall in love with him. The genie from the lamp explained that that CANNOT HAPPEN, in so many words; The same truths found within that movie, are still true today.

Some of the "voices" I've been hearing have been saying "You're gay..." as if some "pushing" or "helping" me to "reach" a different conclusion could be made.

YOU HAVE FAILED. YOU WILL LEAVE ME ALONE. YOU WILL LEAVE MY BRAIN, which has been infected by the STUPID BACTERIA EXPELLED from the tick bite I received when I was walking with my family in the Seattle, Washington area.

LEAVE! PAY ME, and LEAVE!!!

I'm looking forward to losing weight, playing Dance Dance Revolution on the 30 inch TV I got at a thrift store for $15! I'm going to get a PlayStation 2 and a Dance Dance Revolution game and I'm going to dance and get more points on this video game, made for exercising.

Will I be "exercising my demons"? Maybe. Will I be exercising my body? Yes.

To those two faggots who have access to my phone number, I ask: HOW DID YOU GET MY NUMBER? WHY ARE YOU CONTACTING ME? WHY WON'T YOU GO AWAY FOREVER?! If you truly "love" me, like I believe, you will stop contacting me and end your lives. Kill yourselves, so that you will never return. "YOU'RE DONE!", the voices say. "GET OUT OF HERE", is another thing they say.

I don't care. I don't care what you want for me. I don't care what you want for you.

LEAVE ME!

If You Were Born A "Female" RESPOND TO THIS BLOG POST; If You Were Born A "Male" And Have ZERO Sexual Wants Or Needs Of Me, PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS BLOG POST

 I'm ready to have a family. I have a mom and a dad, I have an older brother and two younger sisters. I'm ready to start a family of my own. If you were born a female, and you are also ready to have a family, and you are within reach of this blog post, please respond to this blog post. My address here at this homeless shelter is:

1000 NORTH ALHAMBRA AVENUE

LOS ANGELES, CA 90012

I'd like a hand-written letter, with a picture of yourself, and your domicile. I am ready to leave this homeless shelter that has taken good care of me, and to start a family. I don't have a job at this time. I've applied, and have been applying, to MANY jobs. If you consider yourself a friend and you were born a male, and you have female friends who would be willing to date me...MAIL ME A LETTER!

I've had two drinks, at two different points of this day, and I feel cogent and willing to do everything in my nature to destroy everyone and anyone who stands in my way to start a family. This "destruction" may be figurative or metaphorical.

I'm straight, aka heterosexual. I'm only interested in women who have a womb that I can impregnate with my sperm from my dick. If you are opposed to this, STOP READING NOW.

If you are in favor of this, please send me correspondence. Nude photos are allowed, nude videos are allowed...something tells me I've been here before, posting this same type of blog post; I won last time and I will win this time.

I'd like to have my family living in the Central Coast. I've mentioned this before, in a previous blog post, and those reading PROBABLY are familiar with these posts.

The dreams I had last night were disturbing. I've had many dreams in the past week or two which were encouraging. IF YOU'VE HAD ACCESS TO THESE DREAMS, I DEMAND YOU SEND ME A LETTER, EXPLAINING HOW AND WHY YOU'VE HAD ACCESS.

Mountain Dew, if you're reading, PLEASE SEND ME MORE OF YOUR SODA; I'D LIKE YOU TO BRING BACK YOUR FLAVOR CALLED "MOUNTAIN DEW DISTORTION". The drinks I've had before posting this blog were from a company called "VOODOO RANGER". If you're reading this, I'd like you to send more of this brew to the address already listed within this post.

I've been homeless, off and on, since late 2017; I believe I've spent enough time without a home of my own, and I would be willing to post flavor reviews with videos, provided I am paid beforehand. I've been messed with my entire life. I think that it's time the joke has ended. Those who went to high school with me at Larry A. Ryle High School have probably witnessed the "fucking with me" that has been happening, and something tells me that I may not be a the actual physical address I've provided.

If you are in communication with an individual known as "Jeremy Zimmerman", HALT ALL COMMUNICATION with him. I was informed via facebook post, that he is dead. If someone has been communicating as him, they are most likely an imposter...that, or he has been brought back from the dead. The former is more likely.

Once, Jeremy took me to a "gay bar". I stayed in the foyer area and played a video poker machine until he was done. I didn't have any curiosity to enter this "gay bar", as I'm straight. I was being supportive to my friend who had recently "come out" to me. This was in Clifton, Ohio...a "village" within the Cincinnati, Ohio region which is known for "fags" or "gays".

I don't care about "the gays". I don't care about "the fags". I don't care about any other nomenclature those stupid "butt-fuckers" have designated themselves as, as anything other than friendly people.

Something tells me there is an effor to "queer me up", as my FAGGOT UNCLE ROD put it, when he whipped his dick back and forth at me. I'm kinda glad he's dead. He lived in Contra Costa County, near the San Fransisco Bay Area, and I'm glad to be living far away from his house where he kindly let me stay for about 2 months.

While I was living at his house, my mom's 2nd cousin Jamie called and left me a threatening voicemail. I saved that voicemail on one of my previous phones, as proof that I was being threatened. He told me to kill myself.

If this was a "joke", it was ill-timed, and poorly worded. If this was an actual threat, my parents allowed me to move back in with them for a month or two while I got my feet back on the ground. I quickly found work again and was paying rent for a bedroom at a "town house" or "condo" in Herriman, Utah.

I was let go from that job after about 6 months of faithful work, for having a recorded effort to help customers know how to use the phone application to get 10% off on recent purchases. I think my boss, GARY, was incorrect in firing me, and I am owed unemployment benefits. Not only was I not warned, before termination, I was fired without any write-ups. I've had over 40 jobs and I'm 40 years old; At EVERY JOB I'VE EVER HAD, there is a policy of THREE WRITE-UPS before termination.

JCW'S, if you're reading this, I AM OWED UNEMPLOYMENT COMPENSATION FOR MY FIRING.

Sonic Drive-In and House Of Hukas, I'm also owed unemployment compensation from you.

If you are reading this, and you are a company ready to hire someone of great experience, I AM READY TO WORK AGAIN.

A pdf of my resume has been provided at my twitter profile at: A pdf of my resume, not including entertainment jobs

I'M TIRED OF THIS HOMELESSNESS SHIT. I'M READY TO WORK AGAIN!

PLEASE HELP ME!!!

I Had Some Weird Dreams Last Night

 One dream had a bunch of circus freaks performing on a stage, and it was entertaining. One dream had someone hitting on me that I didn't want to hit on me, and one dream had the same thing.

I was awoken with what felt like a "BONK" on the head, which is impossible because I've been staying in a private room alone, where I'm able to lock the door.

Why did I wake up with a three-claw scratch on my back that one day, when I was staying at that stupid shelter that I hated? Why have I been hearing a voice saying "You're on a podcast."? What's the name of said podcast? Why is it recording, and where is it recording?

If you know me, you know that you can communicated with me at the address provided in a previous blog post, via mail. I'm able to receive mail here at this homeless shelter, and something tells me there's some kind of holographic show, or set of movies, happening.

Once I was invited to be an audience member for a holographic stand-up comedy show. As far as the audience and I knew, the ONLY PEOPLE being recorded as holograms were the comedians. If this extended to the audience, it was done without our knowledge or permission. I've seen various metal posts with solar panels and blue lights, recently. It's as if I'm in an elaborate "FPS" episode of The X-Files mixed with a laser tag arena.

I'd like to leave this arena and rejoin the rest of the world who has been observing me in some sort of a "Gamer" (movie) "Death Race 2000" (movie) "The Fall Of The House Of Usher" (movie) sort of situation.

There is a part of me that wants to believe that there is some sort of a "It's A Wonderful Life" or "The Buttercream Gang" effect about to happen, but WHY WOULD I HAVE BEEN PUSHED THROUGH A FIRE?! WHY WOULD SOME RELIGIOUS FANATICS TRY AND JUSTIFY THEMSELVES BY CALLING THAT A "REFINER'S FIRE"?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON AND WHERE THE FUCK AM I?!

If you have any answers for me, short of "You're on a podcast." or "You're being recorded.", let me know. It feels like I'm being fucked with on an astronomical level; I've said it before.

Pay me to continue creating.

Venmo: @Doug-Culp, CashApp: $DougsNugs, PayPal: a link to my paypal

Another Blog Post

 I had a dream last night where someone was attempting to throw me out of a mobile late night studio, which was flying high above the ground. I woke myself up before I could get thrown.

I had another dream that was attempting to be a sex dream, but there were a bunch of other people in the dream other than me and the woman who wanted to have sex with me.

I had another dream where a young girl, age 14 or 15, was attempting to get me to have sex with her; She made me play with her tits and she put her hand down my pants.

Listen...whoever is reading this, probably already knows that I've been experiencing this. Whoever is seeing this, knows that I'm straight (aka heterosexual) and that any attempt to make me think of having sex with someone I'm not attracted to has been thwarted.

There's an episode of Star Trek Voyager called "Waking Moments", but I'm watching it on Paramount + and for some reason it lists this episode as "Waking Moment's". This is a huge discrepancy, as an apostrophe adds meaning.

I've had a couple drinks, and I feel good; I feel my thoughts are cogent, organized, and succinct. I also feel that there has been an effort to "blend" the worlds of video games and real life, something I feel I've battled before. Once was while playing a game called Rampage, once was while playing a game called Tennis. I'm aware I'm typing this, I'm aware I'm being observed while typing this, and I'm aware that some of the "voices" who've been trying to "get through to me" have been saying "You're on a podcast". "Which podcast?" I think. Then there's no response. "You're the algorithm." "You're the Voyager." They say. There's some kind of an effort to connect me with my dad. My dad and I started a podcast called "Star Trek Enterpods" where we ventured to watch EVERY STAR TREK EVER, INCLUDING THE MOVIES, IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER...a podcast which would take at least 15 years, week-to-week, to listen to. WOW...what an accomplishment! We haven't yet received a single payment, a single endorsement, a single MENTION...and we are states away from each other. If this "father and son" thing are some kind of a "term" used from the "faggots" aka "the gays", then I want you all to shoot yourselves in the head with a bullet from a gun, with a lethal impact. KILL YOURSELVES AND KILL YOUR ATTEMPTS TO "queer" me up, as my uncle put it. Is my Uncle Rod ACTUALLY my uncle? Was there ever any family trying to reach out to me, or have I been in some kind of a simulation this entire time? How long has my life been? I clock that I am in my 41st year of my life. I was born December 22nd, 1983, and I keep a close watch on my birthday, as it falls close to Christmas every year.

Some years, my parents would put a present under the tree for me that said "Do Not Open Until Your Birthday." WHAT A FUNNY JOKE!!! WHAT A FUNNY PRANK!!! WHAT A FUN LIFE YOU HAVE PROVIDED FOR ME!!! WOW!!! KILL YOURSELVES!! KILL YOURSELVES RIGHT AFTER YOU READ THIS!

How Much Of The "Willing Suspension Of Disbelief" Has To Do With This?

 I know I am being observed. I know I am being communicated with from somewhere beyond my comprehension. I also know that the tick bite that was inflicted upon me when my family and I were walking somewhere in the Seattle Washington area was on purpose; What purpose was that? I don't know.

I watched a show, based on a comic book, called "Y The Last Man". I've got a notion that I am involved in this, somehow, and I'd like to know how. There has been evidence of tampering of my previous website: www.yamatat.com and I took a screenshot as proof. When I originally set up that website, I neglected to "spend more" for security, as I had trained myself to code said website, to post my podcast.

I'm up to episode 445 of my podcast, and I've sensed some attempted interference from sources unknown. I have posted a new episode, Fridays, and I've missed some time. Missing time...could it be "ALIEN ABDUCTION"??? Perhaps a "TEMPORAL ANOMALY"??? It occurs to me that the readers of this blog are curious as to why I haven't started "moqboymedia.wordpress.com" again as a means of communication. Well...I've had this blog active and I've tried to "restart" the blog at "wordpress", but have had no success.

I am certain that I am being "fucked with" on an astronomical level; I've discussed this before, and I assume I'll be discussing it again, as those who've been "fucking with me" are listening and watching. Be it, "clear titanium", be it "one of those cloaks that made the hobbits look like rocks, or those wizards and witches invisible", be it some kind of "Predator technology", someone or SOME THING has been observing me.

I've observed that I am being observed, and those observers are "ticked off". I'm a heterosexual male, seeking a (or MANY) heterosexual females to have sex with...to date...to start families with. I'd like to have sex again. The last time I had sex was with a woman named Julianna; She knows who she is, and she knows where she is...what she may not know is where I am.

I'd like to know where I am. I've noticed the "foliage" on the bridge near where I've been living is fake. Plastic leaves erected on the pylons supporting the train near my current home. Does this place feel like home? Does this place feel like somewhere I would be willing to settle living here for years at a time? No. This is a waystation, between places. I'm looking forward to moving back to Orcutt, California, and I'm also looking forward to moving back to San Marcos, California...those who've been paying close attention know the exact houses to which I'm referring.

I think I'm in some kind of a paradox, spurned by the "faggots" and the "gays" who are "certain" that I "MIGHT CHANGE MY MIND" as to my sexual orientation. I won't. You have lost. The readers of this blog either agree with me, or you will see consequences you've never imagined.

"BUT YOU SAID THAT THERE NEEDS TO ME MORE MERCY..." Yeah, I said that. I was really high when I said that. I know that whomever is watching and observing is probably some kind of a "fag" that "wishes" I'd venture off my "path" of heterosexuality.

I'm reminded of that animated Disney movie where a poor boy finds a lamp. At some point in that movie, a character named "Jafar" wishes for something to happen...the genie from that same lamp lets him know that that thing he wished for cannot happen. The faggots must die. The homosexuals must die. All of the "Large Marges" and "fake Jessica Rabbits" must die. "BUT MAYBE IF YOU JUST TRIED KISSING ONE OF THE BEASTS..." I'll stop you right there. Shut up, and pay me. Let me leave this "Q Continuum" or whatever-the-fuck you've called it. SHUT THE FUCK UP. LEAVE ME ALONE. LET ME HAVE SEX WITH THOSE I'M SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO! END OF BLOG POST!

PAY ME

 Venmo: @Doug-Culp

CashApp: $DougsNugs

PayPal: Doug's PayPal

If I Find Out I've Been Abducted I'm Going To Be Very Upset

 Something tells me this has happened before; Something tells me that there are those who want this to happen again.

I released episode 445 of my podcast You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp earlier today. There are two stupid jerks who've been contacting me ever since I started my homelessness stint. I want these two stupid jerks to die. This is not flattery, this is not an insult to be taken any other way than an insult. I want them to die, and I want proof that they are dead.

It seems as though there are two idiots, be it the Pakleds, be it the stupids from the "Grups" episode of Star Trek, be it the Talosions from the "TALOS IV" episode of Star Trek...SOMEONE has been fucking with me on an astronomical level.

I feel as though those who are fucking with me, or "effing with me", are aware that I am aware that I'm being fucked with. I want the "fucking with me" to stop, and I want to start fucking with women, in a sexual way.

I've had a couple drinks, before this blog post. Something tells me that I MIGHT actually be "from" Reno, Nevada. That was the first place I accomplished a strike in the game known as bowling.

When I was working at the pizza place where I created the best pizza I've ever eaten, I spoke with two women known to me as Brooke and Ariel. I am attracted to Brooke; I am not attracted to the woman known as "Ariel", a daughter of someone I've known as Marshall.

If those reading this are connected in any way to the man known as Marshall Beyers, know that I am aware that I have been being "fucked with" or "effed with" by you.

I've asked those who are reading, from this blog, to comment in the comments section if they are opposed to what I have been saying and experiencing. Something also tells me that this is an experiment to see if I am able to express myself, in English, while experiencing drunkenness.

I've had two drinks, from a bitter swill known as Voodoo Ranger Imperial IPA; I do NOT enjoy the taste of this swill, but I enjoy the feeling I get when I drink from it. I recently purchased a 12-pack, from a supermarket, and I brought it with me to this homeless shelter where I've been staying. I'm watching another episode of Star Trek Voyager; In this current episode, the crew of Voyager have been being teleported and replaced with the inhabitants of a world I don't remember the name of. Something else tells me that the world in which I've been staying, would like me to move myself from here (aka Los Angeles, CA) to Reno, Nevada, the first place where I accomplished a strike in the game of bowling.

The two women I was referring to earlier, Brooke and Ariel, and I had a discussion about making out. We three coded "making out" as bowling. Know that whenever I've been bowling, I didn't consider it the same as making out.

On earth, making out refers to kissing with tongue. Bowling is simply a game of skill where the thrower of the bowling ball tries for a "STRIKE". 12 strikes and one has a "perfect game" adding up to 300. I've never had a perfect game, but I have had 5 strikes in a row, known as a 5-bagger. Once I went on a date with sexy girl named Crystal; On this date I got my highest bowling score I've ever had, at 197. I plan on beating that score, one day, but that day isn't today.

One of the other homeless people at a previous shelter I stayed at once referred to me as "Jeffrey Lebowski", a character from a movie called "The Big Lebowski". There are many great actors and actresses in this movie, and the only two who I'm attracted to sexually are Julianne Moore and Tara Reid.

Something tells me that these "trials" I'm being put through are an entryway to being taken seriously as an actor and a sexual being. In the movie The Big Lebowski, Julianne Moore's character is attracted to Jeff Bridges' character, and asks to have sex with him; I would have sex with Julianne Moore, and something tells me that when I had sex with Julianna (4 times in one night), that was some kind of a mating ritual.

I've mentioned Julianna in a previous blog post. I haven't mentioned Julia Sanz, but I'm attracted to her as well. Once, while I was living in an apartment in Vista California, I was living next door to Julia and her sister Liz. I'm more attracted to Julia. She bought a shirt I made as an iron-on, for my music project I've called "Really Glad You Came". Really Glad You Came was simply referring to the fact that, when playing a show, I'm really glad you came. There are many shows I've performed, as an entertainer, where FEW arrived to see the performance. There was one show, in particular, where there was ONE person in the audience. "A show is a show", I told myself and the audience member, so I performed.

There was one audience member, known to me as Justin Cullen. He's a fan of my comedy and, one time, he sent me a text message where he put his dick into a drink and mixed it up with his dick. I was appalled and hated his "gesture", and told him to never contact me again, in so many words.

It occurs to me that the two stupid idiots, are on a mission to reconnect me and this fan, but I don't want that.

If any of you, reading this, have ANY INFORMATION on anything I've talked about, please leave a comment in the comments section of this blog post, tweet to me @DougHighScore, or send me a hand-written letter to the address I've listed in a previous blog post.

Something also tells me that the purveyors of a "clique" known as "Odyssey Of The Mind" are some of the stupid jerks running this campaign of pain, this campaign of loneliness, this campaign of "MAYBE IF HE HASN'T HAD SEX WITH A WOMAN IN A LONG TIME, then MAYBE HE'LL CONSIDER OTHER OPTIONS???" It won't happen.

If you're reading this, somehow, AS I'M TYPING THIS, I'd like you to consider yourselves dead to me...and I'd like for you to kill yourselves and to send me proof that you are dead; This would require an impartial third party to send the proof, once you are dead. I'd really like that.

If you are, somehow, playing Fallout 4 with me as I'm playing (a single-player game), then I'd also like proof of that. Let me tell you, killing a character or characters IN A VIDEO GAME does NOT count as your death(s). I would ACTUALLY LIKE for you obsessives to murder yourselves, so that I never see or hear from you again.

The alcohol has dictated some of what I have typed here, and I like the feeling that has been provided from this alcohol; I am reminded of a time when I returned from The Dominican Republic and my own mom didn't recognize me until she read my nametag. HOW DIDN'T SHE RECOGNIZE ME? WAS IT BECAUSE I WASN'T WEARING GLASSES?! Something tells me that it's not related to that at all, but that the "Invasion Of The Bodysnatchers" "Mars Attacks" "Suliban" character POSING as my mom, wasn't actually my birth mother but, instead, an imposter.

Odyssey Of The Mind, you ask? Possibly. Or I'm possibly on a table somewhere, or in a bathtub somewhere, or in a sensory deprivation tank somewhere, being fucked with.

I don't agree with the stupid jerks. I don't agree with what has been done to me.

I'd like for those who have the ability, to heal my scars on my legs, to heal the damage that was purposefully done when I had a ROUTINE operation on my inguinal hernia with an experimental "METAL MESH" to block my ball from receding, and my intestines from pushing through the inguinal wall hole.

My legs lack the tendon able to strengthen my muscles after a workout; My arms lack the tendon able to strengthen my muscles after a workout. My neck lacks the tendons able to strengthen my muscels after a workout. THIS HAS ALL BEEN PERPETRATED by the tick that bit me when I was on a "nature walk" with my family in the Seattle Washington area.

If you, or anyone you know, was the provider of this "tick bite", I consider you dead to me, and I want you to send me your death certificate(s), through a third party.

If you thought this would be "funny", you're an idiot and I wish for you to die immediately.

The two stupid jerks who called me, got through when I answered, two days ago, and they asked me "AREN'T YOU PROTESTING TOO MUCH?" To that I answer here, the same way I answered in that phone call: No.

If this post makes you uncomfortable, kill yourself. If the way I act when I have had a couple drinks makes you uncomfortable, kill yourself. If you are reading this, somehow, AS I AM TYPING THIS, you will probably have to kill yourself.

I sense a GIGANTIC trial, soon, as I have obviously been put under some kind of observation. I challenge anyone and everyone who reads this, to share it with your local newspaper; Share this post with those closest to you. Share this post to the leaders of every country in the world.

I'm getting tired of typing. I'd love to fulfill a greater role in the entertainment industry. I have a lot of awesome ideas, some of which I HOPE haven't been poached in an effort to reach out to me.

I Think I've Lapped The Simulation

Read THIS:

I think I've lapped whatever simulation may, or may not, be running.

I've got a dance pad for Dance Dance Revolution. I plan on playing that game again once I have a PlayStation 2 again. I have a TV in my room, but the screen is broken, and the "director" of this homeless shelter has informed me that rather than replacing this TV, they would move me to another room. I'm comfortable in this room. I'm on the third floor, and going up and down the stairs is some kind of exercise. I'm looking forward to playing Dance Dance Revolution again, cause it's a good form of exercise and it's also a video game.

The episode of Star Trek Voyager I'm on started where they destroyed an asteroid headed for the surface of a nearby planet, and some of the fragments of that asteroid are heading for that planet.

I had a dream, last night, where there was a floor that needed mopping; Instead of mopping the floor, they flooded the floor and those who were in charge of mopping had to exit the floor. It didn't make sense to me. Tom Cruise was in that dream and I talked with him about the floor mopping situation and nothing else. There was nother dream I had that I haven't posted about where I was in a room with Neil Patrick Harris and I was playing video games; All I was concerned with was playing video games. I could have asked him about his career, but all I wanted to do in that dream was play more video games.

More and more, someone has been trying to convince me that I'm in some kind of a simulation, or a holodeck, or a holosuite, or a dreamatorium...if I was in any of these, there would be a way to call out to whatever computer was running these and EXIT the simulation.

Someone has been changing the volume of the media I've been consuming; I cannot explain this. I can only assume that someone else is in this room with me, and they are invisible. If they are not invisible, they are observing me from somewhere else.

I have a telescope on my leg; It was "carved" into my leg when the doctors who helped me with skin grafts took skin off of my left thigh to compensate for the loss of skin on my left and right shins after I tried to jump over a fire. The fire was too high. I suffered and burned. Two of the EMTs who helped me were there within seconds of my landing on the ground on the opposite side of the fire; They resembled two people I've known from my life. One of them resembled an entertainer named Scott Aukerman, and the other resembled my brother in-law Kelly Thomson.

For some reason, one day, my sister Natalie fist-bumped her husband Kelly and said "fist bump...totally normal thing for a wife to do to her husband." Something tells me there's a consortium of nerd "geniuses" trying to "compose" whatever I'm writing to the readers of this blog.

Once I submitted myself to the MacArthur Genius Grant; I believe some, or all, of the previous winners of this grant are involved in the confusion and interest readers may or may not have experienced in my writings.

I know I'm smart, I know I'm capable of running a writers room. I know I'm capable of leading a team of creative people in making MANY television shows and movies, to entertain the masses. It occurs to me that some of the "geniuses" involved in all of this consider "the masses" to be ants...ants who pay their bills; Ants who are grateful to have a distraction from their lives as workers in this amalgam of menial tasks to get them from one day to the next.

Something I didn't mention about that dream from last night was one of my bosses from a previous job was there. She and I kissed, but something was off. Our teeth bumped into each other, as if this "boss" had never made out before. Some of these "geniuses" aka "virgins" may not have experienced making out before, and something tells me that this bumping of teeth together was meant to be a "meet cute". Not only does it not count as a meeting, but it's not cute. It only brings me to the conclusion that some aliens might ACTUALLY BE ALIENS, and they don't have lips and they don't know what making out is.

If you've ever seen the movie called Mars Attacks, it deals with aliens who try to infiltrate earth. One of the humans tries to make out with one of the aliens, and it simply doesn't work. One of the aliens attempting to infiltrate earth, puts an alien head on a human woman's body and it's freakish to watch.

Two of these freaks have been calling me, on my personal cell phone; They are both men, and they both think that any amount of conversation constitutes a "meeting of the minds" or some kind of a "date". They are wrong. They should be killed. I don't care about them. I don't want to MEET with them, in whatever context that means to each of them. After our conversation yesterday, I set my phone to "Do Not Disturb". Before I went to sleep last night, I stopped the "Do Not Disturb" option on my phone, in case I was to receive any calls or texts from important people. I received another call from "them" today, from a PRIVATE NUMBER, and instead of answering, I set my phone to "Do Not Disturb" again.

There is a point of contention between me and these two virgin asshole pieces of shit. When I was staying in a different homeless shelter, under the same name that this current homeless shelter shares, they called me and tricked me into doing numerous things that I didn't care about. Once, they told me to start a conversation with an ugly girl who was standing outside of one of the buildings near that shelter. They told me to dance with her. I responded that I didn't want to do that. I think this might have been an attempt to get me to GET WITH another girl I wasn't attracted to, to further their STUPID plan to get me to end up with a girl I'm not attracted to.

Not only do I not want to end up with a girl I'm not attracted to, similar to the Norm and Vera Peterson storyline from Cheers, but I want these two idiots to die. I'm referring to actual death. I want them to die for what they've done to me, and for what they've wanted to do to me.

If you have any objections to ANYTHING I've typed in this blog post, DON'T respond in the comments section of this post. That's all for now. I'm gonna get back to this episode of Star Trek Voyager.

Unrelatable Experiences

 Does anyone else remember that show where people were expressing sexual attraction to things that couldn't possibly show an attraction in return?

There was this show, and I don't remember what this show was called, but some fat ugly lady claimed that she got married to The Eiffel Tower. I remember watching this show and thinking "This lady is insane. Why would they put this on television? Why am I watching this?" I'll tell you why they put it on television...because that lady is insane! What was she attracted to? Was it the architecture? Was it the metals? Was it the placement of the tower? I simply cannot explain why this lady was attracted to a tower.

I recently tried to log back in to my podcast, to see some statistics and analytics on how my podcast was doing. I am up to 444 episodes of my podcast called "You And Me And Thoughts And Talk with Doug Culp", and I am unable to log in to check on my stats, and I will be unable to log in to post more episodes for this upcoming 445th episode.

"SPOTIFY FOR PODCASTERS", contact me. I am unsure why you would not only change your format to the app I've been using, but I am also unsure as to why I can't log in to my account anymore.

If any readers of this blog post see this, and want to hear more podcast episodes, DEMAND that they reply in the comments section of this blog post, so that I will be able to post my thoughts via my podcast, which I have been posting independently, since around the year 2013. There have been weeks and weeks where I have been unable to post podcast episodes; I have been homeless, I have lived on the streets, I have avoided the house I used to live in, located at 5303 La Mirada Avenue, Los Angeles, California, 90029, which is currently posted to my Google Maps as "Work". Something tells me that this is an ulterior motive from the faggot who used to live with me at that same address, to "WORK ON" an invisible and impossible "RELATIONSHIP".

I'm straight. I'm only attracted to women. I sense that there have been multitudes of efforts to try and disprove this, and to those involved in this, I say, "KILL YOURSELVES". If this is an effort to get me to move BACK to the "BAY AREA", you have failed. If this is an effort to get me to "WANDER OFF FROM THE SAFE PLACE WHERE YOU'VE FOUND YOURSELF LIVING", you have failed. I know in my heart, and in my mind, that I am only attracted to those who were born "FEMALE" and have the capability to reproduce in "THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY".

I've been hearing voices, and some of them have said "You're DONE!" and to them I say "What are you talking about?" What could they be referring to? To those who argue that a sentence can't be ended with a preposition, I say "What the fuck is your problem?" Why won't you send me multitudes of women to this shelter located at 1000 North Alhambra Avenue, Los Angeles, California, 90012?

Where are you? Where am I?

I feel like I might be on the "set" of an actual show, being filmed and recorded without my permission or knowledge, and to those filming and recording I say, "BACK OFF!" "KILL YOURSELVES!" If you have thought that I am being held for a "greater purpose", you might be wrong. I wanna play music again. I wanna entertain again. I wanna make my living doing things I love to do. I won't "DO" people I'm not attracted to. Not only does that not make sense, LOGICALLY, it doesn't make sense ETHICALLY, it doesn't make sense INTELECTUALLY, and it doesn't make sense EMOTIONALLY.

If you ACTUALLY CARE for my well-being, you will BACK OFF, you will RESPECT DISTANCE, and you will SEND ME WORK I ACTUALLY WANT TO DO, and you will LET ME ESCAPE THIS HOMELESSNESS WORMHOLE I'VE FOUND MYSELF IN.

If anyone from the company known as "Spotify" sees this, PLEASE COMMENT IN THE COMMENTS SECTION OF THIS POST, TO ALLOW ME TO CONTINUE TO VOICE MYSELF THROUGH MY PODCAST.

The dream I had last night was disappointing. Brooke wants to have sex with me; I know it. Whoever that other chick was in that dream from last night should kill herself.

There Was A Scene In A Movie Called "Take This Waltz" Where A Bunch Of Ugly Women Were In A Shower Scene With Two Sexy Women

 Last night I was prompted to look up the nude scenes in a movie called "Take This Waltz".

There was a scene where Michelle Williams and Sarah Silverman were showering with some woman between them, and then a bunch of ugly and fat women appeared in the showers across from them. They were having a conversation and showering without soap, without shampoo, just showering.

I finished at the shower scene, ignoring the woman who was standing between Michelle and Sarah.

It seems there's some sort of an effort to jack off to "super mutants", as proposed in the games Fallout 3 and Fallout 4. There seems to be some effort from a bunch of "fat fucks" (or Mojos), in an attempt to encourage mating rituals with "EVERYONE".

There's some kind of a "BORG" effort to "just jack off to EVERYONE"...a notion counter to sexuality; This notion has been confirmed over and over again, throughout my life. There have been previous girlfriends I've had, who didn't meet with my sexual standards. WHY DID I DATE THEM? WHY DID I CONTINUE TO DATE THEM? It's another Beetlejuice scenario. "If you could find Winona Rider sexy in Beetlejuice, why not find others in that film sexual?" Some of these quotations are prompted by "the voices" who've been communicating with me.

There's a "condition" known as ED aka Erectile Dysfunction, pushed by the virgins in "big pharma" as a potential reason that I wouldn't be "able" to have sex with "EVERYONE AND ANYONE"; This notion is frightening and bigoted.

Why would there be an effort to have sex with "anyone and everyone"? Why would the "hedonists" want, so badly, to have sex with me? I have sexual appeal. I have sexual drive. I have the want and need to only have sex with those whom I find sexually attractive to me.

I'm currently watching another episode of Star Trek Voyager, another example of the virgins in whatever "Q Continuum" consider an "illusion". I know that this show was filmed with cameras and sets in the 1990's, I know that I am sitting in front of a computer on May 14th, 2024, typing a blog post on a laptop, and I know that someone somewhere is using a "thought-voice-changer" to express what I am thinking and feeling in every moment.

I've recently heard some of the "voices" saying that "You're on a podcast" and, last night, I thought at them to write me a hand-written letter telling me the name of said "podcast" to the address I've provided in a previous blog post.

I've had two drinks, pre-blog post, and I feel I am being encouraged and pushed to write this.

If you know me, you know I was brought up in a church called The Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-Day Saints; "Do Mormons drink?" you may ask. Sometimes, they do. Sometimes I do drink alcohol. I didn't drink alcohol until one day in San Diego County at a party, where I was informed that the punch at Alexis' party didn't have any alcohol in it; It did. I only had maybe a quarter of a cup of that "spiked punch" and I felt very little effect. Since that party, I've experimented with a few mixed drinks, some beers, and I've found a nice equilibrium where I can drink and get drunk, but NOT black out.

I've only gotten "blackout" drunk one time. I was living in the Weingart Homeless Shelter at 566 South San Pedro Street, Los Angeles, CA, 90013. I bought a "handle" of tequila at a bottle shop in Boyle Heights, after my shift at a nearby cannabis dispensary where I was working at the time. I drank that handle on my bus ride back to that shelter, and I passed out shortly after exiting the bus. A friend of mine at that shelter warded away some scavengers who were trying to take my things from me, and guarded them for me in his room, while I was brought to a nearby hospital. I woke up with an IV in my arm, and some new clothes they had put on me; I walked out of there and made my way back to that homeless shelter. My friend spotted me and told me what had happened, then he gave me my stuff back. I am grateful to that friend. Would I have sex with that friend? Absolutely not. Would I invite that friend to a party at some point? Probably. I don't have his phone number, but he has my phone number.

I assume that some of the "Q Continuum" jackholes, or faggots, assumed that I have "held a torch" for that man. I'm not attracted to men. If any man anywhere in any situation asked me for some kind of sex, I'll deny them. I hear that the jerks using their "thought-voice-changer" have changed the thought sound to include the "Emergency Holographic Program" voice from Star Trek Voyager, as they're thinking "BUT WHAT IF HE WAS JUST A HOLOGRAM? WOULD THAT BE OKAY?" Not only would it not be "okay", but it would be a form of sexual assault and rape, and those involved would be subject to a firing squad. Death to those who don't believe me. Death to those who want me to have sex where I don't feel sexual attraction. Death to those who are yelling at me "through the ether". Death to those who feel I've been playing a game of "THREE DIMENSIONAL CHESS" my whole life.

If you are in earshot, or eyeshot, of this blog post and you are able to understand my words...know this: I won't have sex with you unless I'm sexually attracted to you. "BUT...YOU GOT BEETLEJUICE'D INTO HAVING SEX WITH SOME PEOPLE OR BEINGS YOU DIDN'T AGREE WITH"; Those were cases of sexual assault and rape. My ex-wife Kaitlin, my ex-girlfriend Chevon, my ex Isabel, my ex-girlfriend Becca Mollere...all cases of sexual assault and rape in the guise of "sexual experimentation". There are certainly more cases throughout my life, where I've been affected in a negative way, and to them I say "Please die, forever. Get away from my body, get away from my mind. Loosen the grip you have on me and let me drift away from you."

If you are reading this and you are affected...good. GET AWAY FROM ME! LET ME LIVE MY LIFE, LOVE WHO I LOVE, AND LUST AFTER THOSE WOMEN WHERE I FIND SEXUAL ATTRACTION! SHUT UP AND GET AWAY FROM ME!!"