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Showing posts with label public relations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public relations. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25

iPigeon.institute City Business Tax works project - Plik-plok slabs of Greater Los Angeles, CA, USA.

An updating and follow-up astute job project profile, hosted on Google My Maps.

The project is supported by private corporate sponsorship “potential” (somewhat; I’d rather not disclose details). Much, or “potentially” all of the ongoing and updating job site materials are and or will be provided at iPigeon.institute’s burden of paying fair market value-basis locality (ZIP Code) use tax, which is equivalent to the sales tax rate (currently 9.50% [2022]), which I report and pay quarterly (try to, although I’ve been running behind, because of extraneous distractions). 

The project’s basis is founded upon the concept of supporting accessibility, within public spaces, and sometimes gray-area private property, when necessary - it seems to go over alright, when it’s me showing up and doing the work, on my own. 

Plik-plok slabs are an unfortunate consequence of various possible origins, sometimes they seem to arise out of public dissent and activism displays, such as uncommon traffic flows, both on streets, and on the sidewalks - showing up as fault lines, cracks, and hoisted slabs - for unknown reasons, they simply don’t all get tended to. In a .eco sense, it’s an unkind and exclusionary social ecology, where manufacturing and industrial verticals, as institutions that we all live in, and depend on - coming to a point of failure; many times, these visible markers of instability and troubled minds, perhaps, show up, disappointingly, at the outset of major work projects just within days, having been completed. 👀

In any case, for a pigeon-made man, that I am, on most days, I do a lot of pigeon-checking of the grounds, and, from recently having done cart-life, for a few weeks, or so, I can attest that these cracks are both hazardous fall risks, and the circumstances lend themselves to exclusions of disabled or otherwise burdened individuals, as well as the general public - who could deny that sometimes, even standard pedestrians fall victim to slight uneven surfaces in the pavement of the sidewalk, or for hoisted slabs, etc., causing an uneven grade to persist. 

Being that some of my internalized dramas that I receive as communications, of “some” sort (I at least perceive these things), I reasonably could stand to be the person to fix the faults within the spirit of my .eco umbrella, or within one of iPigeon.institute’s other arms of workflow concepts and formative design (really, this project could be a scrumbwitsies.us project, somewhat categorically proper, would that have been the case, but I can’t currently afford to run email addresses and enterprise features on each of my four websites that I currently (August 2022) manage and administer.

Have a look at some of the various job sites that I’ve caught sight of, and can attend to, and check back for news of the job sites having been satisfactorily repaired, as well as ongoing updates as to how long the repairs persist, as well as some on-the-ground corroboration and analysis as to why the repairs could have possibly failed or have had been thwarted.

For example, just “current moment,” a man with a high-pitched, tense yelling rant profile, commenting on “government” and “mother fuckers,” as red flag signals of someone having come to believe that they’re in control of something, or suitably reaching someone…

Even so, I sometimes try to step in, if I can figure out if there’s some way I could possibly stop the person, in moments like these, yet I’ve commonly fallen short, for the fact of that the person’s type of neurological disorder is conceivably beyond the sufferer’s capable mind’s resource, in accessing rationality, to calm themselves down. 

For now, I’m working on these plik-plok slab job sites - numerous that they are, as people would obviously notice, for the fact that much nicer parts of town feature better slabs, more consistent grading, and newer-looking materials on the sidewalks. I’m not suitable to fix most street-types of problems, so I’m focusing on the sidewalks, just to keep things simple, and since these things seem to have not had any update, and for the fact that I’m capable of doing this stuff. Sometimes, fun things happen along the way.

Friday, March 4

An open-ended apology, for recent personal shortcomings.

 Being that I run a .institute, there are certain expectations and responsibilities to uphold an ethical purpose, in the course of my doings and daily life, much of which is intermingled work and personal life setting and environment. I’m expected to behave responsibly, and not mar the public-facing image and reputation of the company, which is led by myself, and, as such, it ought to stand on its own. 

Recently, I had a counter-intelligence tactical ruse set upon me, and I became caught up in the moment, and somewhat subject to entertaining uncommon and unbecoming temptations. All things being said, some people like to exert power over others, and witness the outcomes of having influenced somebody into foolishness. This was the sort of circumstance I found myself in, and fortunately, it ended up just being a cold night out, for myself, and a homeless person’s day, out on a lawn, somewhere in West Hollywood. It could have been worse. 

I’m asking, in essence, for a less stimulating set of expectations and circumstance for myself, as I’m largely on the brink of absolute poverty of various sorts. Sure, perhaps I do well, at joking around, at times, but I do fall victim to certain types of shortcomings, but all in all, I’m fairly astute and well-intentioned in many of the things that I do; I wouldn’t do better to pursue some sort of personal identity boost and prominence of fame over virtue, in other words - I’m a good working-class man, not a public figure, per se. I can’t reasonably fulfill all expectations of myself, and keep on with a proper personal conscience and a respectable reputation, if I indulge in pleasing some people’s intentions and influences upon myself. Some of these things cause contention, and being that some of these things are superficial desires, there’s oftentimes little care, as to the outcome of what pleases people’s momentary fascinations and interests. 

Let’s be spirited about the greater picture in life that we have, as Americans, and Build Back Better, as our nation’s leader would have us do, and not joke around so much. There’s work to be done. Not everything that comes to pass deserves being commemorated, but please try to uphold an honorable reputation and influence over others that is considerate of the common good and need in society.



Friday, June 19

On Juneteenth (June 19th, 2020), amidst the media rush, some calm, in the park.

Hmmpf. I'd say that this is a poor time to try to compose a blog, yet I ought to reflect upon the fact that it is a newly endowed holiday upon the internet media masses, and I'd been huge on keeping up to date about news, lately. 

A diatribe, and reverie, over what my black friend brotherman done mean to me. lol


On one hand, it's a bit of a difficult space for me to fulfill, as I've had personal problems laying out broad forefront stuff, of my memorable or reclaimable self and identity. Meanwhile, though, the rallies and gatherings in community that have been showing up, in front of City Hall, [DTLA], as much as I had been, for the birds - suggests that this is a time of needful reform, and of re-affiliation with what makes us, or draws us apart, from one another.

I feel people out with their present and portrayal self - I get scant scud junk, much of the time, as far as voices that persecute me, in my mind. I imagine that they've got no oversight, and no cares towards a sense of authority, and maybe they've got a simply subjective framework of identity, from their look at themselves, and they'd perhaps neglected to know what was being lost, in the eyes of others. 

On some level, I saw it, myself, this morning. I'd tried to work out a standard work week, of a day's shift work, and heading home for the night. I made it through it, with well enough for showing up merits about myself, yet last night I stayed awake, in anticipation of getting my MacBook Air back from Apple Service repair. I had [then] unimaginable resource of capability offered to me on a desktop publishing platform that is the default landscape view of the widescreen - different, most certainly, from the handheld columnar profile of the mobile tablet or, in my case, my cheap Android base model phone.

In any case, I feel like I'd made some ground in attaining some unimagined knowledge and know-how, while scrumming around, on the internet, trying to get my stake and claims in, of the unemployment and worker's benefits programs, that had been distributed en masse, as well, along with developing and ongoing topics, largely of crisis and critical mass, in society. Perhaps some of the folks who are showing up in to town, recently, from elsewhere, had likewise, been disassociated from the latest in developments in what was afforded to society, as far as civil rights, which is a bit more consideration than I typically offer people, of what imaginative forms embellish themselves upon me, in life; whereas that sort of evocative muse ideation was simply a fleeting moment, for me, while in the bathtub, and I'd just got engaged, sort of celebration, type of thing. 

But I leave it alone, it's been known, and reputed of me. I've (sure), I've failed at it, previously, as the formerly known of, as it was - from the talk-ups of which I could now recall, in my memory: "the lost puppy," that I was. A hopeless straggler, of some form of desperate lonesome sort, who'd been abused, in the mind, looking at others, hoping that someone would fulfill some empty facet of self, in personality, through something engaging and life-re-affirming. Something like love. 

I chose what had become familiar, and I feel like I'd largely believe of myself, the same that I'd see in others, for what I'd known of people, at that stretch of time-span, that it was, up until my quaternary isolation, for a new web of "all sorts," whereas I was taken by stuff that I was in to, on the web, and that feels like it's so recently familiar for me, although it began happening to me when I turned 30 years old, 8 years ago, from this point in time. From then until now, it's still largely been a mystery, and a jumble of miscommunications, poor timings, and lots of the same ol' stuff substances-seeking behavior, going on, of what I could muster, in life, of what felt like the good life, for a long stretch of time, in my earlier young adult years, when I'd attended university, and paired off with someone. 

During that time, I'd developed upon my earlier youthful culture side-loading ingestions of hip-hop, psychedelia, and black metal music had formed of me, heading in to college with a unique and adventurous optimism over social bonds that had developed quickly, suited to my deeper sense of needfulness, in affection, which was fulfilled through meeting my [then] girlfriend, whom I'd developed a relationship with, over the course of nearly 6 years, from that point. 

That being said, it's a long stretch of time, in terms of young adulthood, even at my age - which is 38, at this point, of conceivable extent of relationship that lasts, and is tolerated, for the mess that we make of it; each to our own, yet, over the years, I'd learned much more significantly to acknowledge my own shortcomings, in recognizing when I was known, most certainly, by others, for what I would hide, of admission - as what would inevitably show itself playing out, in the lives of others, as I traversed around the locales of Los Angeles, as a homeless person, with no particular bond or draw on society; much - not many people much spoke to me, during those years. 

Yet, through much of the fog of what young adult life turns out, in being, for whatever ills that we ingest, and take of and upon ourselves, in knowing that we'd been brought up differently, for one thing; for another thing, we'd largely failed at socialization in life, for choosing to bring others in to our web of internalized problems and fantasies. As I got older, I became much more secure with being left to myself, and then, one day, I faced a reality of that people would deny me my former autonomy, irregardless. 

Even with this, in mind, I [somewhat] have a sense of that I just don't know, off hand, "who" does that to me. I figure, then I think about it, and then I remember, and it's just simply unpleasant, and I dissociate from the occurrence of ‹ some › people's images, in my mind, for what I'd believe that I know about them. 

For me, though, bringing things back in to present-day relevance, I find that the person who causes those problems, for me, has rarely seemed to have been a black compatriot, that I'd known, over the course of the various distinctions and stages in which I was brought up - through my parents themselves, through the teachings of the Bible, from kids who stole me away from that stuff, and from my parents' establishment of a more stable framework, in life, to university, where I had mostly free roam over the choices I had, given responsibilities to fulfill. 

The loving care towards each other, and the burdens that we, as outsiders of what is much more, (for most people of Los Angeles), to bring it into the scope of exploring and living out lifestyle-locales, such as South L.A., which is a vast expanse of territory of segregation by choice, to a large degree, based on fear that's been wrought of our minds, of cultural "others" in society. 

Black people have the kind of devoted and loving kindness towards others, whereas people draw fearful notions of them gathering in large groups - of the sort that sometimes brings tears to my eyes, of a truthful and genuine sort. For me, they carry that kind of needed facet of togetherness, in society, whereas I feel like I can relate, not for my own distinct "otherness," of my various stages of upbringing, but of what black people had, here and there, adopted, of me, for what I could offer, for them, of various things, or for things I was good at, sort of thing. I somewhat largely felt like a tourist, sometimes. 

But one thing I never do is disrespect a man for what's good, or better, about him, for what he could portray of himself, whereas I somewhat walk a thin line, it might seem - yet I'm woefully offered consideration, for publishing stuff, in timely-enough documentation, given that people are - out here, constantly pushing for the ends of structured society, for the types of things that I just don't care to remember, or reiterate. Yet I feel like some people would care to impose upon youth, yet again, the mistakes and transgressions, upon God's word, in the Bible, which some people simply seem to have altogether none of it, whatsoever, when I encounter them, out in the wild. 

These types of things matter. Cock don't matter, color don't matter, it don't matter, much, what some people say - in certain sorts of frames of mind, yet these are still common faulty beliefs of much of society, in to the youthful adults that come shored up, out in California. We get it out of them, in casual inferences, or moreso as unwitting slips of the slight, that comes to transpire, of what people seem to simply feel is themselves, whereas I'd be like, "nah... you just can't... you can't be that, anymore, sort of thing. You'd have to leave town, or something." [sort of thing]. 

The golden era of that sort of dissonant self, in expressing identity - comes to a concrete slab, of patient Christian identity, which, for whatever reason, for what, or whatever, I feel that the Christian identity is also, likewise, strongly represented in the black people, and they'd support a kick to the curb of a person on their way out of town. It goes deep, sometimes, out in Skid Row. It gets of on poo poo moments out in the open, yet people are not quite brought in, for arrest, for having to pare down to their bare and most human self, circus that it might be, aside from all that. 

Then, the pigeons-carnival of that which is the rest of downtown, is a large mix of so many other people. I don't know much of some other cultures I observe, yet I try to keep it upscale, and classy, after leaving Skid Row. But, as I'd offer, in affording someone new, some perspective in, on local culture - take in all of Los Angeles, with an open mind, when you meet me as a local guide, but some people... they're just trying to get out and rob me, for my devices, and stuff. But I feel like it would establish enough controversy, over time, for people to simply know better. Maybe it's my mind, that they rob me of, but some people love me, here and there, and some people seem to just be afraid of affectionate love, from another, whereas the device simply seems to show out, as the more compelling form of moment to gain, whereas the person is largely not there; for what truthfully could establish itself as compelling study in social media account portrayals of one's self. Some people are that blatant, in not otherwise being professional, of an established certification of rational and ethical merit, in life. Once therapy meets them, I'd have hoped that they could have been the fixie that fixed it - I'd done of their self, in identity; or maybe that it was lost, in the words that transpired, yet I'd feel that I'd done it to them - most surely, of spinning their mind some appropriations, in words: words that truthfully have meaning, and the lean, from the meat - or ‹ something › like that. I don't always say everything right. But usually I'm just tryna' take drugs and go feed the pigeons and sparrows, sort of thing. 

That's what some people game out, as a huge stretch of my own, as well as their own, of their life, that they make of my self. I don't know. Black people don't really treat me like that. They seem to understand, as long as I know how to act, and be friendly, and stuff. It's pretty standard not all that scary, yet I feel like some people really develop this alternate self, whereas for me, I've got to show up every day - for the birds, and birds live on rational schedules; they're nature-bound creatures, by all means of God's goodness. On that note, some people simply choose to be evil, for the moment, and it's a rare shame that it happens to a vested local of so many years of Skid Row, in showing up, but if a person simply never starts doing it, then it's not quite simply like I'd believe that they're sober and drug abstinent, to a disturbing degree. Some people could admit it, for others... they're truly disgusted by the rampant drug abuse and humanitarian crisis that comes with the casual neglect of fwaunching identity out in the Skids, shittin' porta-of-potty, of on, and come back when they ass-wipe next time, for that baby doo-doo shitsicle stint, sort of thing, if it ‹ might be ›. Some people would just have none of it, whatsoever, and they end up bloody and filthy as a wrinkled old one, by the time they make it out, in being honest, in life. 

Beyond that, there's so much of the arts, and of culture, that's been forcefully taken from me... sorts of faceted, deep-seated stuff, and some people just would have none of it, whatsoever, which I could somewhat understand, I'd not yet brought a friend out to Skid Row, with me, although I'd like to... I feel like they could pass, perhaps, and it wouldn't be an all-out slaughter of them, (over some reason). Yet on a day like this, I try to remain fairly grounded, and in truth, I'm doing this Scientology thing; here and there, somewhat, and it's vastly simply unfamiliar to many people, and some people just don't care - but to be worse than just "good enough, or better," was never quite, of most-latest, of tech, n' stuf, and then - that's what I've got in my backpack, and my sling bag - that's for my man-purse necessities. Then I'm collecting recyclables, and stuff. 

Pretty tough to wrangle up support against me, for my backpack, and stuff, and then, even walking up to me? Pretty scarce, that they'd last very long, or really like me, for what I could offer to them. 

But the bums, of today? They're somewhat not bums of just anywhere, they're showing up of on casting call basis, of scheduling, for being a stark one ‹ pigeon ›, which I do, which is okay. I'm kind of here, for bums, to walk up and try that on me, sort of thing. Sometimes, though, I just couldn't much have done any better for them, and it just ended like that. At some point - I just leave, somewhat... [in some other configurations of life, going on, sort of thing]. It gets problematic, and then, beyond entertainment - there's collecting recyclables and smoking cigarettes, yet, for the endless transcriptionist - an of on fwopp-mode bwopp, then I'm done.

Friday, February 21

A rough and tumble Valentine’s Day Weekend.

This had been, undoubtedly, a Valentine’s Day Weekend of much-peaceful rest-seeking to follow that would have been seen. 

That being said, I won’t gloat over the highlights and enumerations; I guess that we all came out of it bruised and sore, like it were an erstwhile trip to Holland, and we were ill-fated of our southern California dress clothing, such that we found ourselves out in the cold. I’m not sure what anyone else, of my peers, did, for the holiday, but I’ll divulge that I was much up for the celebratory part in participation, be it what it may or could be, such that I could make of it, although I ended up not going out in my unicorn cosplay outfit, and I ended up talking our heads off, ending up trying to salvage what I could of some spirit of grounding sensibilities that we could all relate to; that we’d all have had about ourselves, yet the spirit of romanticism, amidst this modern day dirge of materialism, and social status stakes of one-upmanship were highly touted distraction events, and I suppose that, of any of us involved, we were all slight to lose our proper and appropriate selves, in the flurry, and the cold. 

Hopefully the spirit of what transpired is not lost in what carries forth, from here on out. In essence, we all desire significantly similar things in life, given a common ground aptitude and shared lineage of upbringing that we had. In that, I managed to bring up, for consideration, some moments which I found to be compelling, in their plainness and simplicity. We were not so much of a quarrelsome and disagreeing basis of identity, and genuine authenticity in character, back in our early years, when we were all children, and we found ourselves fraught with a traumatic separation from each other. 

The weekend, for me, ended up being a labor of dedication and wonderment, as I spoke on voluminous various contexts, trying to manage the scope and coherence of maintaining a public face, and composing a linear contextually relevant basis; a common understanding, for all of those observing, while addressing much-neglected and needful aspects of ourselves, within a limited and containerized context, which seemed to be the overarching story that brought us together, over the course of the days and nights of the weekend, forget the commercial and traditional context of Valentine’s Day, or any truthful establishment that had been violated - we were all in a similar boat, without any uncertainty - all single men, this time around. 

I ended up sleeping outside, and waiting an entire day to recoup my belongings, and start off towards home - a disheveled and obvious failure, though I took pains to win some for the common ground participants and observers at hand. All in all, I couldn’t complain, and I didn’t ravage my living stability status, or reputation, all that much. Hopefully we all got through it well enough. 

Here’s to spring! To new beginnings, through the warmth of the seasons, bringing us some simple satisfaction as through natural cycles of the year. Let it bring us the simple promise of renewal, and rebirth. Thanks for being here along with me, all along. 

Saturday, June 2

Cute iOS App Crushes for The Professionally Considerate iPad ❤️’ers Graphic Design GFX Mock-up « Whatever » Gig-pay Artisan of iPad au jour Denizenry [Draft]

Cute iOS App Crushes for The Professionally Considerate iPad ❤️’ers Graphic Design GFX 
Mock-up « Whatever » 
Gig-pay Artisan of iPad au jour Denizenry

an Enterprise Grandiosity Psychologically-post-Freudian Public Persona Facial Wherewithal Astute Typology; Sex-Offender Jaunt Trifles None-wha-huh-who?
🤔🙎🏻‍♀️🇫🇷🇺🇸
None Whatsoever Typology.
🇬🇧🏁🚩🐦🇮🇱🇰🇷🇹🇼🇯🇲🇨🇳

Nuclear-Identity Periphery Proximity Marketing Radiation-Gamma-Sustainable Watershed Persona Development Cycle Persona - Standard Boundaries, for Aesthetics Finery of the Humanities. 


That being said, this article is the hand-over-hand-in-hand true iPad blog-lifestyle of tech-dieter crash-food craze asifever... 🙄 then, (perhaps, over time, etc. exigencies of outcomes, given valid jaunted buntiglios of shitsicles, various counting schemes; definite facie-selfie « check-its » valid sober stance mirror moments - for heterosexuality, at the forefront of the jaunt-stated purpose. 

That being said, this content has been cleared by the most already-watershed graphics-design-of-iOS iPad srsly non-fuckin’ aficionados stance of valid prêt-pelletier no-ass glance back at y’a sideways about letting a fart out, this one’s definitely tissue-stuffed fart-leisurely passable recreation for both genders.

That being the case, as it were, I worry much less about « if I’m offensive » about fletching my ass-happenstance in valid Christian shamefulness, unh-uhh, now I am free to do about iOS App Store perusal as a valid supporter of the corporate capitalist trifling-jibs one-off marketing outpost that is as is such: the iOS iTunes App Store, of such happenstance-also recursive exigent drama; yet some people jaunt pigeons, and that’s where I lay my clutch: the lil’ darling aficionado love-cycling relationship of the validly iPad-as-stated aficionado lore culture: it’s valid, without yet as much as I did that okay happenstance wherewithal of a perhaps had-had-to « needs-be » non-concomitant avec les offrent d’leurs sexualities, to be as so much French as have-happenstance wherewithal:

All government organization ligature psychological babble aside: what more could they do to stop people from jaunting no « fingernails no more » jaunt shitzi-tiglios way more jaunted than frostbite lately; it’s June 2nd already in some places, according to as-happened to be Cupertino Time Zone mock-up map-mapping AR-arbitrary-of mapping augmented-reality have-happenstance wherewithal: continuing among the classical traditions of humanities and science; mathematics, etc. 

[Euclid’s 13 Books of the Elements gave way to hundreds upon dozens, at least; of proper taskmanship artisan roles for academically-inclined finery] or constructively somewhat « at least » valid basis foundations for the algorithmic ML and Data Visualization Aesthetics establishments that some of the more handiwork-vested infographies of naturally sustainable recursive developments, to speak of, etcetera. 

Orthographic projections of engineering industries planar views and proportional dynamic dimensional physics rendering is still in development as a macro and micro science in art aesthetics, to this day. 

The app production development teams on these curated selections of a project of open-source common stance; buy from the App Store; get superior choice and capabilities in iOS mobile graphic design, in comparison to jailbreaking personas that are so commonly a « stated jaunt Tweaker trifle », in French brackets for quotations, as according to the AZERTY standard; for me, it’s an iPad thing. 

Get a good 2013 or later model iPad Air or better, big screen is good; and 128 GB of storage. That’s what I’m running, for $175 off of craigslist, from the computers and tech section. I live in Los Angeles; I’m perhaps somewhat fortunate, comparatively. 

Make it a jaunt athleisurely lifestyle-destination vacation and wash up here as a gutter dump transvestite drug-seeking demographic from out where you came from. (I’ll leave my door open and a pair of good-‘nough panties in a pile of crap in my closet for when I’m out jaunting: about town...) for the hapless street-dwelling serious needs-for-an-iPad « of blog lifestyle » aficionado stated stance: you can check my latest facile-selfie - it’s clear. 

👐🤲👏🙌👏👊

Just don’t let me catch you smoking drugs in my place: there’s families around, and I’m running a pigeon institute, here. The closet check-status persona hamster wheel mock-up au jour is to die for: just a 90 block walk from DTLA. No franchise or co-location network PrimeTime mockery of a valid shortcoming: a jaunted ass panties-aficionado-stated ass gutta-ass lifestyle, you find yourself; have at it, just no weird shit, and no noise. No smoking the drugs, either; some people don’t believe it when they hear it, but trust me: I totally did one-off trifling entrepreneurial mock-up narcissistic outstanding achiever; perhaps as such as « I do my own 🇵🇷 Puerto Rico » establishment finery coterie au jour (somewhat of the belief that that’s about fine cuts of meat: and that’s what you get here - a jaunt trifling « more than you asked for, better than you could expect » as far as psychologically forensics talk-of-the-Town, slight celebrities, they’ll make you, for a jaunted-AF valid corner Olde English 800 stance on the subject - with valid oversight from professionals, distanced somewhat and enough (sic). 


That being said, all things aside: I assume all things Christian and good-natured in mankind; you might deny a valid pantries-aficionado stance-stated jaunted needs-to-have-besides drug-abuse recovery stance, but some people think that I just talk up a pigeon carnival wherewithal iPigeon finery talk; I’ve got some ionic minerals and M! Scaling at the Computer iOS App Store aficionado iTunes welfare-recipient chipping-away-at-it: yet even more iPad validly development scrum 2nd glance have-you on technology diet: eating pronz off the hibachi ain’t goin’ down like that all the time. A mock-up tranny to-speak-of hamster wheel persona theme park is have-at-it: 

The 3 hour video is coming: the mixes etc. need to be attenuated, and then, in measures: reintroduced as valid semantics for fodder iPigeon Carnival app enterprise institute speak-of you find me: I was mumbling, true; but this is my breakout on-camera persona, and, oh - the visuals! I almost forgot about the representation of a valid tech diet basis jaunt-level depravity standards development narcissist stance on development: blog. Dot dot dot... how bout you? The ever-sociable « just-good » dog, as Jim used to say. He’s just a good dog.

Now: we do I. 

Now, we do pigeons. Me, as in I, as of we. Validly précédent in the .com of iPigeon branding ad marketing; it’s got all the valid makings of a serious adulting-validly stance on a life’s formative aspects: orthographically sound; we do leans, do fletch, do jaunted AF trifling through the gutters for some just perhaps findings, to-do.

Regardless of all that, some people will simply just not do anything at all, by standards and measures, and thus take on a valid sexual identity depravity personality disorder mock-up water cooler « as-if » this is post coffee-shop beverage patron status du jour iPigeon linguistics fan: if anything, make it a caramel Frappuccino, extra caramel. Mmm... 

That being the basis of a jaunt mock-up persona campaign, all kinds of jaunt-oppositional demographics: for antériorité French momentous-of-novelties « finds-you » or others; I don’t get into that kind of nomenclature discussion to cast dispersions thereafter; I also so many things about life everything, in fact; yet some people - constituently sex offender, aside from all that, simply Freudian identity shortcoming happenstance mock-up speak-of, as a once-off, for some people. 

For some people, it passes. For others, it’s butterknifes out the grocery store for a pigeon-waffles young-enterprise carnival institute aesthetics auteur - as if it wasn’t also of valid armed forces to-speak-of folk nomenclature finery establishment talk-up, of caretakers, nonetheless, of the finery establishment such as iPigeon institute. 

All sorts of folklore nomenclature talk up of pigeons, to speak of. Some people take it differently.

Needless to say; I felt that the pigeons deserved an au jour grandiose des les française petit ecouterie Jean-blanc mock-up peasantry faire take on aesthetics of pigeons, as illustrative subjects, thus leading towards all sorts of thousands of words as towards non-Freudian shortcomings personalities typos and oppositional lean-to’s; as if the jaunted buntiglios lean status-stance knees-crumbling take on the subject was poor happenstance strange now enemy combatant black militant site - developing around me validly; and it’s public relations - I do iPigeon.institute talk-ups dès leurs, and I dunno 🤷‍♂️ 🤷🏾‍♀️ emojis of linguistic forthright bonjour-ing locality Apple proximity protocol networking also, how brand-marketing psychological... 

Okay.

But seriously, cut it out on the Freudian slips. I wear females’ clothes, and it’s sometimes an issue, but I do validly 12 steps recovery. All things in substantiation to fletch, if you will: a pigeon racing-birds specialist

First off;

Second of all,

First of all. Some people change the subject from pigeons. Without any aficionado or love for the birds. It’s stated-as the biggest mistake of any man’s life, time in, and time again. 

Whereas some people...

Is this departure into a moment way more summer breeze casuals pussy of finery jaunt-buntiglios undoing of American standards: cleanliness, and then bleh... some people speak of strange and un-Christianly things. 🤷‍♂️ then I see such things in such plain sober view. Etc.

That being said, the affinity for an avid graphics-design artisan stewardship young jaunted as-classic as-Folger’s: how standard American AF is a kidney disorder? Trite shitsicles for the have-bits of coffee-STRf#ckerstry, I do Frappuccinos, grande, extra caramel, by the way, and you can find me in adult themes if necessary, as well. All within standards-ordinance of wow: someday soon, I’ll post the 3 hour video: 

Of a pigeon-fletch jaunt demographic; all sorts of Euclidean arrêter aesthetics are rawr-rawr-rawr-rawr... some people disparage the cute.

That being said: here’s the breakdown of several of my workflow aspirational attainments and tools of des leurs: the ones who do graphic design aesthetically « okay, I’m a narcissist » stance on some things, then they make it even worse, etc. Lifestyle blog tech diet aficionado relationships folklorist valid « blog ». I do blog valid leisure writing gigs-free: for tech-diet non-smoker demographics of tech diet aesthete, then I talk up a pigeon carnival institute enterprise, over waffles: standard as the liturgy - waffles, ... ehhh, I spoke of them already. The pigeon waffles.


💁🏻‍♂️🙄

Okay. The list.


Jay is a demographic for valid web standards arrête aux jours of a mock-up European Early Modern Period Aesthetic and Forensics watershed establishment in civilian society: he do’s why we have tables and anti-psychotic medications prescribed to us, as « standards committees. »


UI/UX design-standards-depravity model aesthetics, yet this one’s about iconic app icon vectorization workflow and novel endowments as towards highly beyond-aficionado STRf#cker TMZ mock-ups of tabloïds réputé: thèse are valid needs-to French-stated basis aesthetics about it: an aux jours des leurs: the iPigeon.institute home exhibition re-artisanship process, in digital form, in various aptitudes as of to speak of, such as to not become -as irrelevant. So many wordplay and valid ulterior motivés to an iOS love relationship debacle for the « athleisure », yet Nikes regardless and sometimes - the jaunt gets way speculative about body aesthetic OTG like, you know - carefully aromatherapeutics applied constituent happenstance speak of, that I do.



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