Hide From Yourself In One of Nine Beautiful Hong Kong Locations

Political Asylum Hong Kong Hidey Hole
Slowly accept the inevitable in a plush Lebal Drocer suite.

You are God.

You control the world, the grass, dirt and the Heavens. You spin the galaxies, and drive them apart with an as-yet-unexplained force known only to men as “dark matter.”

Managing creation can tucker out even the most vengeful of Gods, so spend your 7th day at Hong Kong’s famous Wealthy Political Asylum Getaway – a modern-day hacker’s paradise complete with VPNs and a direct line to Xi Jinping for disclosing national secrets as soon as they’re discovered.

The Wealthy Political Asylum Getaway has serviced such legendary political dissidents as Vic LivingstonCommander X, th3j35t3r, John Tiessen and media darling Edward Snowden.

Tired Gods of this world need a place to hide away, collect themselves, and distribute child porn.

The NSA knows where you stay. Do you think you can get out in time?

This message has been brought to you generously by Lebal Drocer, Inc. We own Wealthy Political Asylum Getaway Hotel Resorts & Casinos, and have used our monetary power to gain access to private information, your most sacred data, things you thought we would never know about, and we did it all – thanks to our friends at the NSA – just for you. Because we care. That’s the Lebal Drocer Promise™.

Tom Ryan Spearheads Cyberwar on the DPRK

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Under Armor Spokesman, @th3j35t3r Attacks North Korea

Under the moniker @th3j35t3r, a little-known Twitter account, Tom Ryan of Provide Security is currently gearing up for cyber war with North Korea, Anonymous in tow.

After a series of test runs against mom-and-pop DPRK websites, we see Tom Ryan, aka John Tiessen, as possessing the ability to completely cripple the entire infrastructure of North Korea’s Internets. While working with OWASP on Web app exploitation, in the mid ’90’s Ryan developed — with the help of a DARPA contract and Adrian Lamo —  a tool known only as XerXes, which sends “packets” to a given “serve,”, causing it to go offline temporarily. Some say it was also developed to really annoy Ron Brynaert.

This method, while not new, is very new and effective. The source code of XerXes has been hidden from the world for over two decades and far surpasses everything from WinNuke to LOIC/HOIC.

So is this a military operation? Is this what the NSA has been planning for years, General Keith Alexander at the helm? Or is this just a completely superfluous news article about something so utterly boring no one is reading?

We asked #hatesec’s Chairman of the Board Kevin Eubanks for comment, but all we got were some fucking lame jazz fusion licks instead.

Meet the Craziest “Leader” of Anonymous, John Tiessen

John Tiessen repeatedly accused my favorite literary character, Kurt Vonnegut’s Kilgore Trout, of child molestation. Mr. Tiessen also made overt threats of physical violence and nuisance litigation (accompanied by veiled threats of violence in the courthouse) towards this fictional character, whom I love, so I made this video with Mr. Tiessen’s “greatest hits.”

In one of these threat-laden pedo-accusation videos targeting Kilgore Trout, Mr. Tiessen received news of his uncle’s death. His telephone ringer was a police siren, and after a short eulogy, he returned to the overt threats and Kilgore Trout pedophilia-talk.

John Tiessen worshipped Barrett Brown and emulated his bathtub Tinychat wine session, substituting a glass of orange juice for Brown’s red wine. Immediately following the arrest of Barrett Brown, Tiessen threatened the CIA, FBI and DHS in a sweeping rebuke of authorities who are all afraid of the “big ol’ surprise [he] got waitin’ for ye.” Brown was arrested for threatening an FBI agent’s children on September 11.

The Anti-Leader’s handbook is a satirical work of fiction I authored parodying the type of people who like to preach to Anonymous.

I’ve received a lot of strange responses to this work, some more horrifying than others, but John Tiessen’s psychosis was definitely the most chilling. I made an agreement with John to end these kinds of activities, and months later he posted a defamatory comment to this glorious and infallible publication attacking the ethical hacking professor Sam Bowne — recently interviewed by my co-editor-in-chief Tyler Bass — with pedophilia accusations, simply because he disagreed with Bowne’s logical, cool-headed critique of Anonymous.

John Tiessen rose to fame within Anonymous by slandering the conservative “ex-military” hacker th3j35t3r, a “patriot” who temporarily shuts down violent Jihadist forums.

The Anti-Leader’s handbook can ONLY be found hosted on the gloriously advanced quantum servers in The Extant Soviet Union of Remnant States (ESURS).

I Am America – A Herman Cain Fanfic

ATLANTA, GA. – “Hey, she’s a dame. What do ya say, Hermie? We pick her up and show her a good time, give her the presidential treatment?”

Two pairs of eyes met in agreement on the rearview mirror. As it slowed to a stop, the campaign van brakes cried out in protest.

“I’ll introduce myself.”

The man in the backseat watched through tinted windows. “Yes, what is it?” the woman inquired of the driver, who approached her on foot now. He was a stocky white gentleman wearing a sportcoat, stylish prescription glasses, and a stained yellow mustache that matched his teeth.

“You want to meet a celebrity?”

“What are you doing?” she asked as he got closer. Her face changed, although an expression of politeness remained. “Now, wait just a second, what do you want? Back! Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The driver had grabbed her by the wrist, but when she pulled away, he slapped her across the face and took her by her curly brown hair, leading her into the side door of their idling press wagon. She noticed it now, out of the corner of her eye: 2012.

Perhaps you’ve seen him on TV. He’s bringing jobs back to America. He believes we can take this country back. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here today. His marriage fell to ruin in the wake of a series of sexual harassment scandals that surfaced as researchers snuffled for anything that might drop him out of the running. The hours were getting short; the days, much darker. It was only a matter of time now.

With their fly in tow, our two spiders drove around back of a warehouse not far from where they acquired a thirst for young flesh. Once inside, they removed her blindfold. The building was stacked to the tits with beer koozies, picket signs, boxes labeled “flair,” cardboard figures and T-shirts in every color and size ranging from small to medium to large, extra large, extra extra large, and the unthinkable XXXL. With no small degree of confusion, she absorbed her surroundings, forgetting for a moment the two dark figures just ten feet behind her. She struggled for breath at the sheer immensity of wall-to-wall fascism, lights shining on American flags, and in her eyes, too. She squinted to ascertain the meanings of slogans and effigies. America never looked so cheap. That is, until a red crowbar wedged itself between her right eye and the inner socket, hooking itself on her temple. The pain was insurmountable. She could not scream, and collapsed instantaneously under shock. Dull sensations of otherness were shooting off at random locations around her body. The pain was unfathomable. Reality ceased. A voice gave instructions. She followed them, without question, without understanding, with no intellectual capacity whatsoever to guide her through this terrible nightmare. She was no longer human.

The young woman – a skinny waitress in her thirties – with her fist in her mouth, put the other hand down to her gingham skirt. Her broken hand was gnarled into a claw, but using that claw, she tugged upward at her skirt with pathetic incapability, in a bid to satiate the verbose bloodlust of her attacker, candidate for the U.S. Republican Party presidential nomination, Herman Cain – a Georgia Tea Party activist.

The hairs on Herman’s neck bristled with anticipation. In the dark, he could not see it, but a flash of recognition darted through the young lady’s body as she made out the face of a man she once knew. A man who, before, had told her what to do in a more professional setting. She worked in one of his restaurants. Her boss. The owner.

Your God is Power. You have no shame.

“Rape victims are sluts who produce their own birth control. But you’re no victim,” declared Mr. Cain, a former deputy chairman of the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City. “You like this. I’m going to teach you to like me.” As he pumped, and huffed, and breathed scotch into his victim’s mouth, his eyes glazed over and fixated on the corner of the room, where he imagined a younger, better looking rape victim. And briefly, he pictured his wife. “Now secrete it!”

Herman Cain crouched down over the woman, who was now bloody, disheveled and used, and he asked her politely if he might take her out to dinner sometime, and if he can get that phone number.

Black dots patterned across his vision, bubblewrapping the terrible scene beneath him, the product of his undoing. One last passenger aboard the Cain train. As he struggled to breathe with that thin, tobacco-stained breath of his, Herman’s blood flowed like sand.

“She’s done for, Herman. Now let’s be on our way.” Chief of Staff Mark Block, Herman’s driver, sucked the last trace of life from his cigarette. He could not take his eyes off the scene. Her ripped white underwear with blue trim, bloody at the crotch.

“I– I thought her body was supposed to shut down to keep this from happening.” Cain withdrew an unlabeled bottle of blood pressure medication and took four tiny white pills.

“If she gets pregnant, then it means she liked it. Who can blame her? We’ve run a campaign like nobody’s ever seen. But then, America’s never seen a candidate like Herman Cain.”

A smile bled from the open corners of Herman’s mouth, from which sprung twin puffs of gaseous hate that twisted up his thin, dark mustache, and moved in a vapor around his furrowed brows, tracing the restaurant manager’s gray, receding hairline. Sister demons danced a double helix in the midnight air, assuming the form of matching parallel negative impressions, shaped like dervishes with forked tongues slithering, their writhing agitations, spied ever so slightly amid the shifting breeze in Block’s polluted exhalation. Graciously, they pulled his mouth wide into a devilish smile.

Trollman Cain

This story is part 2 in a 2 part series entitled “What was the deal with Herman Cain?

Sent from my iPhone

Rapist Speaks Out In Support Of A Delusional Barrett Brown

“We are the pee-pool,” says Tiessen.

Internet legend John Tiessen spoke in defiance of IRC bans and IRL double trouble Barrett “The Wild One” Brown Monday. During his Internet podcast, Tiessen once again decried the rats amongst us, referring to undercover agents at Occupy meetings, and outlined the divide and conquer mentality of government opposition, referencing Sun Tzu’s Art of War.

Barrett Brown is in police custody after threatening the children of federal agents.

Tiessen quietly yelled to his audience of no one, “We’re rootin’ for Barrett Brown to get out of jail, and we’re fuckin’ protesting against that. They say they’re protestin’ against them but they’re not – they’re tryin’ to stop it. They’re tryin’ to stop the movement and they’re winning. They’re winning and people are listening to ’em. We are the pee-pool! We are the pee-pool!”

As something resembling emotions rose up within him, Tiessen got carried away with himself and, remembering why Brown, on whose behalf Tiessen is speaking, was arrested, corrected himself midstream: “We have our minds and we’re going to do what we want to do. If we want to take down the feds– if there’s five people that want to take down the feds . . . they’re gonna do it, leave ’em alone!”

Tiessen concluded by encouraging his presumably sleeping audience to “wake the fuck up.”

The following is funnier than anything we could possibly write ourselves

CHRONICLE.SU FALLS TO RUIN IN WAKE OF PRETEEN SEX SCANDAL

Editor Frank Mason was arrested Thursday morning for the distribution of slanderous comments against himself.
CHRONICLE.SU Editor Frank Mason was arrested Thursday morning for the distribution of slanderous comments against himself.

INTERNET– Legendary cp forum chronicle.su was seized by authorities Thursday following an anonymous tip by John Tiessen. Tiessen told authorities he knew the mysterious chronicle leadership was trading non-nude jailbait photography around Twitter for some time, and has reason to believe sources might be holding out on him.

“Dey trade it around on da Twitta,” Tiessen lied. “Dey trade it around and dey won’t share none of it wid ME.”

Authorities hail the chronicle.su seizure as “the nation’s finest police work this side of Dallas,” and have placed the coveted Soviet Union domain in a sort of digital trophy room “to set an example for anyone who thinks it’s OK to abuse the freedom of speech we so generously allow you to keep.”

FBI Director Robert Mueller says he wants to let this serve “as a warning and an example” that the government can take anything you do and destroy it in a moment’s notice “at the slightest indication that you might enjoy the sweet, clean-smelling underage skin of exotic preteen girls,” adding, amidst hyperventilation, “Those sweet, sweet preteen girls.”

You will not find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than terrorist website chronicle.su. It is the lowest common denominator of “entertainment,” where “low-brow is the new high-brow,” according to investigators.

Chronicle.su is a cesspool of over-ripe spineless writers with nothing better to do than exhibit themselves masturbating before onlookers in Tinychat. If the website were deleted today, the Internet would be a better place tomorrow, for fans of sanctioned child porn star Selena Gomez, among other celebrity wonders as Lil Wayne, Kilgore Trout and Lady HaHa.

With the impending deletion and re-absorption of the chronicle.su domain into the available pool of domains, it is expected to be replaced by a chansite specializing in the trade and sale of actual underage sex workers as permitted by the CIA and enjoyed by their constituency of faceless traveling arms dealers with full security clearances and total freedom to molest human society at will.

CHRONICLE.SU IS OVER.

“You got rats amongst ya,” part of a John Tiessen rantshow

You got rats amongst ya, man
You lost all credibility
Once ya have a rat in you, amongst you – the people even associating with the rats – they get whacked, they go down.
That’s how ya deal with rats, you don’t have nothing to do with ‘em.
You go into a place and there’s rats in there, you get out of there. There’s rats in there.
You’re getting played by the fucking government. Writing programs and doing things for them to go into Egypt. You’re being played. They’re playing you. You say you’re playing the government, you’re being played. They’re so fucking far over your heads you don’t know what the fuck’s going on. You got people helpin’ ya, givin you little programs. Here, have this, it’ll protect your IP address. Credibility is out. It’s done.

Extra Rage Comics

You know all those exaggerated bullshit stories you read on Reddit, which trick you into believing it really happened to someone? 99% of the time, people embellish their stories dramatically and this is the only reason they get upvotes. Yet somehow, you want to believe it because it’s disguised as a sillyass cartoon that gives you chills of cult like love for your precious, sweet, loving redditors. Oh, you know about the trolls, though. They’re always downvoted and exposed because of Reddit’s precious direct democracy.

Well prepare to have your mind completely shattered, REDDIT.

I use hundreds of sockpuppet accounts to constantly push MISERABLE rage comics into Reddit – HELL, I INVENTED THE LIVEJOURNAL RAGE COMIC.

I did this by making sure the comics would play to all the fucktards who go “aww” and upvote something that isn’t funny.

WELL BY GOD, I’ve got something you’re going to HATE. This is designed for all the little trolls out there, who are now going to RUSH to f7u12 spamposting and spamvoting up horrific comics which will possibly ruin the seriousness which has taken over this CANCEROUS and HIDEOUS scar upon the internet and possibly the worst abscess in COMIC HISTORY.

YOU WILL RUE THE DAY, REDDIT!




Imagine the comments… Infiltrate Reddit…. Upvote…. Profit???

I LOOK EDGY AND FUN WHEN I MAKE TEH IMAGES TOO BIG