Hi – ho, Amigos, good hearts you! After the “serious issues” yesterday, today again something relaxed, a little relaxing!

In my notebook is the following entry: “Whether I telephone with my apples, my wife is not at all indifferent. She considers it illegal. But that’s what a woman who thinks I’m in a state of twitching said, “I just danced to good soul, sitting there.”

What do these words tell us, good hearts? Will it be clearer if I add the header? Well, it goes like this: “Light of the wrong yellow.”

The veterans among us understand what I mean; and maybe today I write only for us old fighters. Of course we are still on the subject Tonal / Nagual; quite naturally, we speak of our individual programs and metaprograms with which we interpret, interpret, what is in our field of perception.
In the specific case, both are right. My wife, the world’s best wife as well as me! The Melchizedek people are going to jump in our faces now and tell us something about the polarity that is still escalating, and the Kabbalah people will say that, and the white magicians will say that and the black magicians that, and so on and so on … why, so I ask, do everyone have anything against the reality in this identity trail that we currently inhabit together? This shop is full of contradictions and with no word, not one syllable, it claims to be understandable or even explainable.
From the tonal side, it is extremely unlikely and bizarre to look at my phone calls with the apples, and even though the main theme of my activities and the suzuki sheds light on the topic of “apples and goats”, as you can see from our website www. g-cook.com knows.
Looking at the nagual aspects of what I do in this particular case, one might conclude that it requires tremendous energy to do exactly that, which is why it is not an option for everyone; another exclusion criterion.
And if we remain content free in the third step, we realize that the island of Tonal, just like the surrounding nagual, is not unpredictable, but unpredictably responsive to a logic inherent in us as humans in this identity trail, and at each of our steps, what also includes intentions.

This, let’s call it Orwell’s “Twisting” is what sets us ritualists apart from the profane masses. We simply have our own mainstream that works and works pretty well with us, but does not stand out from the mass mainstream. Again modesty is needed, and the modesty of the warrior, who strives for perfection in his own eyes, and does not care about applause or boos.

Good hearts We know what we are worth and we are free to consider other reviews because there is no way to compare, not even between two snowflakes. So let ‘s harden and forge our warrior mind and oppose it to this overflowing trace of idiocy as an adequate and effective measure of all things. Let us return to our practice of magic and give the world, which is only a trace of identity, for what it legitimately deserves, a loud and happy goodbye, for our stay here and now will end in the foreseeable future, while the nagual, the Where we will never be ends, and thus the safe address for our temporary retirement, and also a sigh of relief and a coming to you!

In this sense … Good hearts, me, what does it mean, WE wish you a summer as cool and casual as ours today!

We hear the days, your principalities and powers, your seed of the sky that you are, and that I love!

OK? Alright? Then clean, but very casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

Commercial nonsense: And if so? Today something overarching, important, and a little bit different, more private and concerning the common practice of our magic.

Hi – ho, good hearts and welcome! Let’s call our today’s issue simple: The Age of Team Players.
I know, I know, good hearts, you are lone fighters just like me, and yet we live in this time, in this to our greater confusion NOT LOCAL here and now, whatever that may mean to anyone. However, I’m afraid we will not pass by one consequence: it ‘s the age of team players! Individual services, my beloved friends, are no longer in demand! Individual enlightened ones like you or me are strictly anachronisms. Just look at Bell and his theorem, and what is NOT made of it TODAY, well, but one speaks of the greatest individual achievement, good hearts, and the dog is buried … do I need to talk further?
What we do as individuals is not doing, but curling; and NOT because we are so lousy, but because the tonal of the age changed. Capice? Good … if so!

Now to the personal, to me: I eat well, I laugh a lot and sing, I dance, I love very well and more than that, La Madre and the world’s best wife take care of me all around, and, that’s to say: I find in between, despite the picturesque lake, in the meadow of which we spend our time in good weather, despite coffee and cake, which spoils me the world ‘s best wife, despite very nice and considerate people there, under which we move, despite my health improved, despite sexual magic and I FIND TIMELY I ALWAYS FIND THE REASON TO CHOOSE ME! Hammer, right? But: That’s just cozy, that’s me!
What else am I doing? Well … In my magical practice, I experience an increasing familiarity with a handful of identity traces, gaining security through it. Experiencing these objects of the nagual from the tonal is simply breathtaking and an absolutely casual, a cool thing. The transition between the identity tracks is also spontaneous, at the moment I’m pretty good at recognizing almost every jump, and if I do not like it or my current refusal to complete the current learning experience, I’ll jump backwards. The physical consequences are limited; the biggest fight is the one with fatigue, the exhausted being. Funny to look at is the equally powerful, as well as futile work of my intellectual powers, from my clues in the nagual, the traces of identity familiar to me, to make a kind of map. It would be alright if I had one … but this statement is only misleading my frightened Tonal.
That’s it. End – Terrain, End and Out … .. for today!

Good hearts, me, what do I mean, WE wish you a summer as cool and casual as ours!

We hear the days, your principalities and powers, your seed of the sky that you are, and that I love!

OK? Alright? Then clean, but very casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

Honestly, good hearts, when a splendid specimen, in my case more a woman of this genus and magnitude, builds up with the 220 kilos in front of you, and when she then tells of the Chinese penis torture, …

… who – indignant because of his misogyny – would like to attach to a Greek philosopher with pleasure then it’s time …

Time for what, good hearts? Yes, that’s what you ask yourself. I interrupt my Summertime blues with the nice stories of the island and the Dalai Lama on the way to Auschwitz only because of it, but not reluctantly, as I have to admit, because I experienced EXACTLY THIS today!
The internet knows nothing about this particular torture, but that does not surprise me. The nice lady said a lot about citation, but had to admit that this was not given for the penis torture and their circumstances. I asked interested. I got no answer, only evasive Bla – Bla. I asked again kindly, but more forcefully. Again no information, just “… that would be said!”, But by whom or when or how was no speech. THAT makes this story interesting, good hearts!
What I heard about the practical aspect of the thing is something like this: you take a stable thread, possibly a thin rope, I suppose – but I close this detail in the absence of more precise information –
and put a noose around the delinquent’s penis glans, and attach the other end to another loop on the big toe (which does not seem to matter, anyway, she said nothing). Pull both loops as tight as you can. And now we’re done, because the motley play of this selected nonsense starts by the outraged village community forces the so “bound” criminal to go – however. Well, the rest is self-explanatory, she said; but I could not imagine how the glans is cut off when walking; absolutely not in my head, and thank god.

Well, good hearts, you get such a free home delivered today to a beautiful place on a still beautiful summer Sunday!

And since I am and I like to share, I share these confused pictures in my mind with you, my trusted good hearts; and that reassures me, albeit in a disturbing way, if you understand …

Good hearts, I wish you today, at least as hot and casual summer as mine!

We will hear each other tomorrow or at the latest the days, your principalities and powers, your seed of the sky that you are and that I love!

OK? Alright? Then clean, but very casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

Why does the guy from Led Zeppelin sing, he goes crazy when my mind is still a thought penis and a first-rate climbing pole?

And on you go! OH YEAH! – Welcome to Cozy’s Summertime Blues and something from 377!

As if in a trance, he opened the door, stepping on his way, robotic and slow, whose goal was to be the pandemonium itself. Storms of light, as he defiantly and manly stepped out of the shadow of the car, seemed to whip him against him, making his way uncertain and his orientation difficult. The voices he heard now lacked human nature. There was a howl, a whimper, something utterly horrible, maybe a guardian demon, as Esmeraldo suspected; something croaked in disgusting falsetto.
“Shut up for goodness sake!” Esmeraldo said quietly, but that had no effect and all he could do was cover his ears with his hands.
Aha, the guys, the two drunks, he remembered uncertainly as he looked to the side. One pimped the gate now, rubbed his tail against the metal and slammed a hand against the bars. The other was passive and busy watching and drinking beer.
Esmeraldo thought everything was little surprised. Here, near the devil, it was certainly not difficult to turn around, he said soberly in his opinion. He only hoped not to be driven to such an act by the presence of evil himself. On the other hand, who knows, maybe that has something to do with one hand half a vagina and on the other side to feel the steel? Esmeraldo laughed quietly and insane. He had to go on, take a new step, he remembered. Oh God, the way was long. It seemed to him that he had already left in the morning, had seen the guys at midday, and still had miles to go. Jumping thoughts, red thoughts that did not want to reveal their content distracted him from this consideration, tormented his stomach and his balls. It tickled when they came up and burned easily when crashing.
“Do not think, do not think, do not think, you Communists!” Esmeraldo scolded.
“Master of the ice cream, then give us action!” Demanded the spokesman of the so reprimanded.
“Hhhhmmm, I love you! I love ice cream! I want to prepare for your face the deeds of the strawberry, the hour of the cherries is to come! So go and beat the cream! Go in peace.”

Feeling the opposite of peace, Lady G suffered untold torments in just those minutes. From the quiet ecstasy of a very exquisite double …

> And now it’s getting too hot, my beloved friends … we have to come up with something … The following is not for the general public and we do not want to scare children! So, you’re clever minds, set off, because as the old master said, everything is there and present and nothing is hidden, so he sat asking us what the hell we want him after he told us that?

I can only confirm that the Old Zen Master is perfectly right.

Good hearts, I wish you a similar hot and casual summer like mine!

We will hear each other tomorrow or at the latest the days, your principalities and powers, your seed of the sky that you are and that I love!

OK? Alright? Then clean, but very casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

Life is the chance to be generous. And on you go! OH YEAH! – Welcome to Cozy’s Summertime Blues and something from 378!

Sir Em loved to own her in latex & latex, constricting her already breathtaking curves and enjoying them to the extreme! His motivation, also the goal mentioned again and again at the right time, grew day by day. Every little resistance melted away as soon as she wagged one of the small pieces and whispered her ideas in her ear for a nice evening at home. Thus it was possible to create the above-ground gate, which was now in danger of being desecrated by Don Stefan.

At any rate, Don Stefan did not hesitate any longer to put the threatened into action. He fumbled his part out awkwardly. His waxy hanger anxiously greeted the bright sunlight.

“Diablo Conquista.” A voice whispered from behind Esmeraldo’s ear, which was translated in his meanwhile THC poisoned language center into: “The devil is in a green bin and he waits …”
“Como alma que lleva el diablo, as if the devil is after you?”, He answered with a mad laugh.
There was nothing left. Maybe the voice was offended, Esmeraldo guessed. But why? Well, that was something religious, so somehow you should react with respect, right? Anyway, the angel suggested this on his right shoulder. Oh, fuck it, all bullshit, countered the devil from the left as always.
Ok, ok, if the devil is sitting on his left shoulder, he can not be in the green bin at the same time. A logical consideration. Or? Let’s see…
As a student of philosophy, he needed to know something like that! Actually, yes, but when he knocked on the door of his inner university of knowledge, a nasty janitor with a green dragon’s head and the face of a stomach-sick iguana simply rejected him. “Today’s day of rest, and tomorrow too, not to do anything until the end of the semester break – Futschikato!”, He complimented the poor Esmeraldo from the academic world of learned knowledge. So he had only the rest, only the tedious and, above all, humiliating walk to the rudimentarily educated and thus not at all eloquent parts of his personality; a miserable jumble, crumpled comic books, like a pile of leaves confused by the wind and barely visible. The hand in hand in a circle around the pile of paper dancing children in Norwegian sweaters did not help him further. But something useful had to be there! Was not that something like a variety or variety of things in heaven? Was the devil in heaven? No, in hell, no in the green bin, no on the left shoulder. What a mess. Again and slowly: Any … wrinkle, that was it? Man, Esmeraldo would have been more careful in religious education! But you could not know that you need the stuff at some point. Wrinkling? Wrinkles? Oh shit, that’s not it! There was Jesus and the Christ and the Holy Spirit and God and doves? Yes, these pictures, dull memories, but at least clues, he had. So if God consists of parts, then the devil can do it too. It is obvious. Right, right? “If you say so,” said the offended angel from the right. “You can go for that!” The devil hissed on the other side and hopped like a jumping ball. “We’re the hot guys! We can do it! What the old man up there can do and more! Did you ever hear God fucked?” – “But now,” said the angel outraged in between, “but now the whole thing goes a bit too far!” Esmeraldo believed the devil more. He had at least arguments. Everyone knows that the devil is a goat and goats ram everything that gets in their way. That’s for sure. Little is known about God and sex. Nothing really. He was supposed to have made the people out of some sand or clay. Well, if so. Not very exciting. Zero sexy.
“Madre mio!”, Now he saw the barrel. She was just there, probably the whole time, or stepped into the world of visible things just for that moment, as the bouncing little devil tried to convince him. On the left, just off the main gate, she stood, flanked by a gray and a blue. The place of residence of the devil. Deep sucked Esmeraldo the last move of his joints. It was definitely the last, because he burned his fingers. He registered the burn, quickly flicked the butt, but was far from remembering his drug use, so much had the drug gotten him.

OK? Alright? Continuation tomorrow. Then clean, but very casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then… ?

Hi – ho, good hearts, today as promised the second part of our friend Hans and his green halo:

On the other hand I’m aggressive, I’m jumpy and quickly bored and so not at all willing to suffer and I’m well-versed, have a hopelessly outdated traditional figure, I’m non-smoker in the main and by the way Opportunities – smokers, and often the relationship is reversed I do not stop for alcohol and cannabis, I love sex and consider myself largely tolerant and cosmopolitan. My tolerant cosmopolitanism stretches across really huge areas that no hiker has fully explored so far, and it starts and ends with me being very fond of certain things, you could say “decided”, but also “stubborn.” “.

My relationship to the divine is in Hans – typical manner subject to the principle “two souls live oh in my chest” – principle and fits in a raviolidosis, which concerns the masculine part, and it is my life theme, as soon as it becomes feminine.

And what’s the best part about my halo? Honestly! What is it really? “We want all dirty details!”, I call myself representative of my readers! Ok, ok, I’ll tell you! Now it comes: The best thing about my halo is that I can turn it off. Only the HOW is funny. That’s how: As a child, I happened to find that if I bend my jaw in a certain way, raising my eyebrows at the same time, I can make a noise in and over my ears. So boring; I never found a meaningful use for this gatget. But now, in need, but in the greatest – greatest distress, delivered to the merciless green glow over the skull, developed out of this my life’s useless ability to let it roar in my head, the strong emergency anchor in my thunderstorm of impending going crazy; the fucking thing went out! HOWEVER: Pressed again it led to the opposite result: my head lights was back. So I found my off switch (because only I am interested).

My CV reads boring otherwise. I am a trained merchant in wholesale and foreign trade and saddled later to the web designer. I am an office stallion. Always been. Without exception.

Now imagine that. This is me. I miss a halo.

That was that. Out and about. Provisionally. The next time we continue with the island – history or more from my trip with the Dalai Lama to Auschwitz!

OK? Alright? Then clean, but casual!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

379 – and to all misery there is this guy who calls himself Hans, with his green halo!

Hi – ho, good hearts, now I am back from vacation, but it is no different, because I MUST just tell you about Hans, the guy with the green halo …, best with his words:

Actually, I’m not Hans, but that’s my middle name, I’m so old and I have a halo. Fact. Not the historical, the classic, but a very modern one, with direct AND indirect lighting, which somehow appeals to me a great deal, because I do not find it so annoying, simply balanced, somehow more relaxed than these reverberations on the older models; at least that’s what I imagine; this is one of my thought experiments damned to fruitlessness. But I do not want to want those rays on my skull, do not even imagine that, for even my gentle sweep of light bounces my skull content back and forth. I do not want to know what that is like when you radiate so directly, blasting out such rays …! Is certainly exhausting. And the thought of it is already tiresome, although of course pure theory, because I have never had such a radiant thing myself. And, to finish, because I want to say something and not sleep fatally: In addition, my green is. Bright green. Neon – chewing gum – older Ami – sled, so green, you know that. As far as I know, there was never such a thing.

Quoting the Internet is to say on the subject: “The halo (Latin nimbus” cloud “, Greek ᾶλων hálōn” environment “, also glory, halo, halo, radiation, aureole) is a luminous or light phenomenon around the head or whole body of a character representation. Subforms of nimbus that comprise the complete body of the person representation are the circular aureole and the almond-shaped mandorla. The nimbus is in the arts a symbol of the powerful, enlightened, saints or gods. A luminous or light phenomenon, a sun-crown or radiance around the head or body of representations of special people is handed down in many cultures. ”

OK. I can not say much about it, because I know only my own halo of course from my own point of view, and which is located on my head, more precisely 15 cm above my skull roof and lit much like Xenon; and therefore also “no older model” is. I do not know much more.

Asked how I get to this honor, if it’s one, or about this visitation, if that’s true, I’ll have to pass, but only now, because that’s only half the story. It has never been one of my goals to get a halo, that’s pretty much certain. I know of that, may I accept. No, no order from me! Not today and certainly not before. Never.
Asked for benefits that brings me my halo, I am already back to zero. Well, I could get through the channels and be known on TV a little, but I’ll leave that better, because I’m the spinners too much, who really like it or absolutely do not like, just what I have, and me openly confessing today that I consider everything possible and nothing less likely to be a thing to be done by idiots. That’s why I keep my head down. Covered except for these notes, because it wants to get out somehow, somehow has to out, the devil knows what.

Years ago, I quit the Catholic Cherry and have not joined any other organized or even taxable religion ever since. It can not be so. If I go through the internet list with “a symbol for the powerful, the enlightened, the holy or the gods”, I feel somehow honored, but at the wrong wedding, because despite all my insight to this day the inner peace is missing; and one of the named dignitaries should be that, peaceful. At least.

So far our friend Hans. Tomorrow it continues!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

At 380 an interim remark from the summer vacation

Hi – ho, good hearts and skin just as casual as you can!
I hate myself very much and certainly not when it comes to my Summertime blues. Today I do it; and even on a Saturday, on the weekend, where actually standstill of justice is announced.
Why do I do that? Is there something so important? No idea, is my honest answer, because I did not notice me when the thought came to me, and I was in between shopping with the best wife of all on the bike in town, and my pain marched on, so I decided had to take countermeasures, her good hearts understand what all comes together and ultimately the fatal sum, as the consequence of the triggering thought, the idea and vision is lost. What a crap!
Shall I now row back, delete this text and continue as usual? I honestly do not feel like it. Zero enthusiasm. Nada. No.

So I’m talking about … what? Yes,. Oh yes, last night, before falling asleep, I remembered my trip with the Dalai Lama to Auschwitz. Some of you, at least the “veterans” know about it. I realized that the Summertime, as I started it up to now, is a little bit one-sided and that you are still under-challenged by good hearts. Therefore, yes, that ‘s why it’ s back, now I know it again, as part of our Summertime Blues I will now provide some variety and also publish passages from my book “With the Dalai Lama to Auschwitz”, as I know for sure , for your pleasure, and, and first of all: to mine! Let’s start with the warnings! – And let’s go:

warnings:

Put your own interests far above questions and curiosity.

Never ask about the half-life of a truth.

Follow the impulse of the oldest part of your brain when it prompts you to wipe your ass with this book.

Somebody bought and paid for this issue. Everything is fine with that.

The deal has already been done. Do you understand?

Or do you need it more clearly?

OK. If the hooker is paid, you do not have to be infected.

To lick your ass is dangerous enough, because there are droplet infections.

Far more dangerous yet – albeit hotter – is the intrusion.

The sooner the condoms break, the tighter the hole. And this, this hole, it is narrower than narrow; it’s the virginity of an unborn nightmare.

You are warned.

Any exchange can be deadly.

And there are horny death experiences.

Continuation in the next blog!

And who wonders why this ingenious book is not everywhere to buy, it should be said that the damn publishers just do not have eggs and also a hell of a fear of the banks, whose dirty laundry I lay open in my work in front of the world. Roger that? Good hearts, they want to keep me dead … but dancing is always about two and I’m not knocked out yet and I keep on fiddling! They want to make me cold, but I’m “only” one … the Internet says: A whistleblower is a person who brings to the public important information from a secret or protected context to the public. And that’s exactly how it looks!

We, good hearts, all know what to do for us, and if we forget, we read it here:

http://www.g-cook.com/aa_languages/todo_int/a_rule.html

just after!

And then … we do it – do it – do it!

LOVE!
Cozy

Suzuki and cozy in all possible languages; on the impossible, we are still working.

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