The gun store owner did not impress me. I could make him look real bad. See he didn’t seem to care in least that he sold me a piece of shit gun. He never cared to find a copy of my receipt which I seem to have misplaced. He will sell you that same gun in a heartbeat too. I could tell you who he is. By rights I should. I won’t give him anymore business. I know that much.

‏The fucker sold me a gun that didn’t go bang. He sold me a gun that broke again catastrophically within 38 shells.

He didn’t seem the least bit moved by me encouraging him not to sell anymore of those guns.

I should rip him a new asshole.

I really should.

I just found my receipt. I generally don’t misplace important papers. But this one I did for a while.

But I found it.

Now I can deal with the Beretta fucks who also have failed to impress me.

They increasingly are building piece of shit guns.

I ain’t buying anymore.

This gun store owner really let me down. He is a Campton, KY native.

I expect better from him.

Since he is from Campton, I am giving him a break he really don’t deserve.

Others asked me who sold me that gun too old man. I didn’t tell them.

This was before you wouldn’t even look for a copy of receipt.

You really are a piece of shit.

But I am giving you a break.

You don’t deserve it.

The cops shop there a lot.

I wonder how many pieces of shit he sold them.



I go to bed at night. I get up in morning and write shit usually. Then I go to work. Then I come home and write more shit. I know it does no good. Yet I keep doing it.

I don’t really know why I do it. I don’t really have a filter. I do to a degree.

But mostly I just let it out.

I guess it is good for that.

I can’t keep this shit inside.

I feel literal pain sometimes and that pain comes from the events of the world.

When I read some stories, I can not even begin to make you understand what happens to me.

Do I scare you?

Well I reflect your world more than most.

It is all here and essentially no filter.

I only promise to leave you be if you don’t mess with me.

That is best I can do.

As for your philosophy, I really don’t care anymore.

Mine is leave me be.


Dad, Mom, Whoever, What am I to do if a person shoots at me or my friends, teacher? What?

There is no real answer.

Do you tell them the police will protect them?

You know that is most likely a lie right.

Look, I ain’t judging you.

You mostly are “programmed” to procreate.

But I hope you realize exactly what you have done. And what you are doing?

You have no idea what happens at school.

And schools are merely one example. Hell, sometimes it is the church where kids are scarred.

You can’t protect your child.

And that is your job.

But you all pretty much pawn that job off on others.

I don’t know how many times I have heard a parent say, “I can’t wait until school starts.”

See all I have ever been told about America and the world is a lie.

I am frankly sick of hearing it.



You can teach your child to fish. You can’t teach them to have eyes in the back of their head.

See I am never gonna have to worry about being responsible for bringing a child into this thing we call life.

It is a damn good thing too.

I couldn’t really teach them about people. They could never learn on their own.

I just could not deal with the never-ceasing questions to which I have no real answer.

I can only speak in theory, about anything.

And in practice, theory goes out the window almost every time.


See I can’t figure out how to really deal with “life,” why would I have a child? To me, life is tolerable at best.

I just don’t see it.

All these books, and none of them are any real help.

It is all bull.

I mean what if my kid were to end up homeless?

What the hell would I tell them?

And some kid in Nevada just got suckered into being blown away by his “friends.”

It was some lonely kid desperate for friends.


I pass.

What book should that kid have read?

What book the parents of the border children read?

What book MS13 read?

And our POTUSI, what do they read?

See it was happening in 2014 too.

Book them, Dano.


I have definitely gone dark again.


It is difficult to see in dark.

I have trained for that though.

You want your child to grow up MK Ultra like me?

See I know all too well.

This is essentially what children must be taught.

And it ain’t even really an answer.


Subject X: here comes the dark

I suppress it all the time, too often perhaps.

The dark side is often required.

Like when someone throws your world in the garbage.

And if anyone ever tries to otherwise alter your world on a grand scale, you better have darkness inside you so as to put them in their place.

That place may be in the ground.

I know the type. It was not my stuff. But I can see the bastard doing it.

I would have hurt him real bad.

And the law?

Most likely law would come after me then too.

Society is a joke.

And I can’t believe you all are still reading them damn philosophers.



I may just put in notice. I am not sure I want to keep driving. It ain’t gonna be worth my while most likely. It would be days and days rarely make money worth bothering with. Plus, I am gonna be tired. And also, it just ain’t as fun in the Hyundai.

I ain’t sure yet. If I do stay now though, it is likely only going to be one shift per week.

It was good while it lasted. It was a stop-gap though until I got back to group home.

Plus, I am not getting the loyalty I deserve….

Loyalty is supposed to be a two-way street.

And although most of the customers are alright, enough are straight up assholes that I just ain’t interested much more in dealing with them.

I try to be civil. I don’t try near as hard as I used to though.


You want me to read what? Learn what? Do what? Why?

Is there anything to guide me on being homeless and having my spot invaded and my clothes and everything else thrown into lake?

What would Machiavelli have done?

It is all supposition.

Genghis Khan?


You want I read local ordinances?


Are you freaking for real?


So he threw your clothes into the lake huh homeless person? Where was your father? And what if anything did you do to this man either before or after his deed? Did you tear him limb from limb? I mean he did attack you. I applaud you for not tearing him apart. Some just may have. But for the Grace of God.

Where is your father? Did he teach you anything? Or leave you to fend for yourself?

Son, it is a world full of animals.

Some pretty themselves up they feel.

But every last one of them has an animal inside them.

I have no real advice for you.

As for the above, it was a home invasion of the homeless.

Or the jungle.

And you thought we left that place.


Subject X: Rene Augustin

Rene Augustin is the alias of my, great-grandfather.

He was born in Belgium. He is somewhat of a mystery.

Hello great gramps.

Belgium is a nation, not a road. – King Albert I.

The Belgians prevented Germans from conquering France in a month as they had hoped at the start of WWI.

And the King stayed in sole command of Belgian forces for most of war. Stubborn son of a gun.

The Belgian resistance was literally created on the fly.

His real name is August. If you look real close at text above you can see his last name also.




I want to try to show you something. It ain’t a big deal. But for some reason, I want you to see it at least as best as possible.

It has to do with “sight.” It is more about it being difficult to get a clear picture.

I mean more difficult.

It is a confounding factor.

I could “control” it some.

I have yet to.

That kind of confounds me also.

I suspect I will show you a picture pretty soon.

It might confound you. It might not.


It most likely will confound you.

These are my shooting glasses. I wear them over my prescription glasses. The whole thing distorts my vision. When I shoot at range, it ain’t exactly easy for me to see. It sucks really. But it is no real excuse. There is a cat in front of those lenses. Can you see it? And no I would never shoot the cat. I love the cat.

It ain’t easy to find these. So I must shoot in a way less than optimal condition.

This is my target, with those lenses and that Pico first and only time I ever shot it. The shots were at 7 and 25 yards. I missed three times in first five shots. I never missed after that.

It was not easy.

Every shot was crazy hard to sight in.

I don’t have references, just reference points.

How many you think you could hit through those lenses?

I missed 3 times.

Those are the ones I remember.


What does the card get me?

See you gave me the card already.

It can’t be worth much?

I will review the material again.

I have not slammed you. That much.

And only the most astute figured out who I refer to, the group.

Long story short, I may send you $35.00.

That is actually a small compliment.

You must have heard of me via this radar love dealio.

Who can tell me the significance of this number?

To be fair, almost no one right now.

The number represents the percentage of population that even has a cursory grasp of Deep State.


OK, I will invest in you cursory bastards. I might get lucky.

OK I will join you.



I have been asked to become a member of a group that claims to be fighting “Deep State.” I am researching their claims. On some fronts, I see action. But I am not sure they go deep enough. They do go deeper than most. I wouldn’t send the cards out though until you get the cash. Don’t waste money. Deep State has deep pockets.

They are Dutch. Go figure.

I want to see more on certain fronts. One in particular is removing law enforcement authority from most federal agencies.

And as for the FBI, I really don’t want them involved in local matters.

They assassinated Finicum.

And I see nothing from you on this and related.

So not at this time.

See they are murdering people.

And you are not suing them for that.

And suits?

I don’t wear them much.

And I don’t see anything on guns from you.

Lawyers, Guns and Money


And I don’t gamble much.

See you and I obviously are not watching the same things exactly.


I basically am a bastard child.

Hey for most all of my life, I have called all my shots.

I never ever had to ask for permission.

My whole life I called all my own shots.

So you can’t really boss me.

whoever you are.

I ain’t kidding.

It is amazing how well I turned out.

I never had anyone around to show me how to act.

Dad was gone. Mom always at work.

and I was all alone with two younger siblings.

In the projects….

You know what I learned?


Today is Fathers Day huh? I don’t have a father.

I woke up to the words of the reverend today. He was doing a Father’s Day sermon.

I had forgotten it was Father’s Day today.

It is something I try not to think about, fathers.

How long until it is over again? Or at least until I forget again?

There is no pain anymore. There is no anger anymore.

There is no real sadness either anymore.

The day means nothing to me.

For 44 years, I mostly tried to ignore the day.

My father is likely sad today.

I can only surmise.

And if he is, it isn’t because of me.

This will be the first Farhers day for my father without both his mom and dad.

He will know what it feels like now.

I actually feel bad for him.

I really do.


In shooting, 92 percent is an F.

35-38 shots I made today.



You (talking to myself) are gonna miss some. It will never be acceptable. So don’t miss.

It is impossible to never ever miss.

It doesn’t matter how good you are.

You will never be perfect.

You have to learn to deal with that.

You just can’t accept it as an excuse.

Don’t miss.


Yall see how crazy shooting really is yet?

Do your damndest to avoid fighting.


A or F


I missed three times today. That is exactly 3 too many.

What I recall most about the target I showed you from  today is the three misses.

I hate any and every miss I have.

A miss is a failure. Every miss can also be a casualty or worse.

A mm is miles, literally sometimes.


First time I ever shot this gun. – Excuse?

It is a fairly heavy DAO trigger. – Excuse?

It is really, really tiny and light. – Excuse?

There are no excuses that are truly acceptable.

I am hard on myself.

I am analyzing why I missed.

I missed.

The Pico when it ain’t broke, will go where you aim it.


Self analysis:

You went right for head at 7 yards with first five shots you ever fired with this damn professional pistol. And you missed three of them.

You know biggest reason why?


So what did you learn today, Strobbe?

You can’t afford to ever miss dumbass.

I am rooting for you.

Takeaway: Go to body first with micros. The only exception is known armor.

Doing so allows one to have flexibility in terms of combat essentials.

Make sure EVERY shot is on target. That is the goal.


Hickok 45 on the Pico. He is way more refined than I am.

Anyway, he calls it a professional’s pistol. He says they are hard to shoot. He is right about the second part for sure.

And I just had to see what I could do with it.

I got what I needed to out of this little Pico. I will give it that.


I actually know a Pico. True story, Gran.

I like this Pico.

I really wanted to like the Pico pistol too.

The person I know is a sort of pistol too.

I should say used to know perhaps.

I have not seen them in years.

Hey Pico don’t buy the pistol with your name.

I bought it partly because it did.

I am stuck with it now.