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Posts published in December 2018

Two longhairs wild men living on the fringes perish in murder/suicide woods fire of the alps: famous poet Grizzly Murders and celebrated scientist Brains Brogan, both with banging bodies

Last night, wee hours, classic hi end smoke billowed into the apple crisp air over the Alps. On the outskirts of a lil village time forgot, in the wet thicket, past the old mill, deep into the tree pile/fur leaf darkness alone, a cabin was high burning, valuable old wood cabin caught fire.

It was the cute cabin of acclaimed/renowned scientist and theologian, Dr. Brains Brogan. Everybody of the Alps knew he lived there alone like a freak in the woods. Everyone over there was aware of his presence, but in the woods away, everyone was skeptical, sometimes fearful, but yeah glad he did not show his face in the village & was never seen in town. He was an American scientist but had moved to the Alps in 2002 after disappearing from the USA.

Brogan’s charred banging body was found in the cabin and also, sadly, the body of one other.

Alpine authorities now say they know exactly what has happened and held a press conference early this mourning in Switzerland, the Alps (8am). Detective Stan Glass looked into the high end TV camera + told everyone watching: “It is a tragedy, yes, that any man would die, but in this case is is particularly sad/tragic that Brogan held the only cure in his addled mind. We will now not know & never will. We checked the police email last last night and what we believe happened is well known poet & theologian, Grizzly Murders of Waltham, Hono was sent to the Alpine cabin to assassinate aka murder or at least gather Brogan for a couple of reasons: On Dec 11, 2018 the Rose Family Council of Control requested Murders locate the cabin in the Alps -after catching wind that Brogan was still alive and considering releasing a book of theorems to honor the death of his closest from-school friend, Rose family father and FFF Magazine’s previous owner & head writer, Dr. Brian Rose.”

So yeah, that much is true, Rose family wanted to get our hot little hands on the manuscript and grip it tight to shreds. We had heard that Murders’d become a P.I. in recent years so we discussed and ultimately concluded, “Let’s contact him.” And we emailed [email protected] and were like:

“Hey Grizzly, It’s Blobby, So yeah, I guess you heard about my dad, I know you guys were close as kids… on another note though, I wanted to see if I/we could hire you to find an old enemy of the Rose family, someone we hate with a hard passion, I think you knew him at school, Brains W Brogan?? FUCK HIM but whatever. We caught wind he may be in the Alps living in a cabin like a freak/tool. We can offer you $250 to get him bring him and any manuscripts you may find on the property to us, in Glastonbury. We can PayPal you, does this address work? Anyway let me know.”

Murders replied within seconds saying “Not a problem.” Wow that was fast, so we figured within days we would see these men and the manuscripts on the front door of the mansion. But nothing, no one was there, no one showed up, no one came, nothing was delivered to us that we’d demanded and were prepared to pay for, yes shit all.

We had all but given up but then the cops in the Alps called us and were like, we logged into both their emails, and we think we know what happened:

Murders arrived at the cabin in the Alps at 4:43am on Saturday night/early Sunday. Brogan was deep asleep in the state known as R.E.M. sleep, dreaming, tossing and turning. Murders approached the cabin but probably had no intention of bring back Brogan alive. He set the tinderbox wood cabin ablaze and watched it burn but began to cry the fat tears that had been stored inside his human meat heart for so very many years. He wept uncontrollably, began to approach the cabin. Weeping like this and hobbling. Murders entered the flames and felt the heat on his skin and began to smell his own skin burning but it calmed him as he knew his physical body was perishing but his spirit was merging with his childhood friend in Shangri-La, the natural woods, and the inferno at 5:03am. At 6:27am Alpine village police arrived on the scene and declared both men perished and the cabin an eyesore set for demolition unless anyone wants to buy it?!

Gall was home when the cops called us to explain what had happened and inform us that we had nothing to worry about and were basically above the law, as we knew as our dad had taught us that and we’ve always felt super blessed about it.

But we also felt bad. And Gall suggested we contact a healer and arrange a seance. My sister Ghost knew a healer named Tono Blew Co so we called her at 647 989 2891. She was like “yes I’m available and perfectly willing & happy to come over to your mansion & conduct what I call the Magical Gathering with you and your family. My fee is $150 for the first hour and $95 for each additional hour (or any portion of an hour). I have to charge you, it actually takes a lot out of me. But yeah I can be there today at 4:15pm, after I drop off my brother at his training.”

When Blew Co arrived Ghost was like “what training?” and Tono went on and on about some bullshit about his training.

So we first tried to contact Brogan and see what that he might try to spread in the form of lies about daddy. But all we got was “Rose family, greetings, I’m actually doing great here in the afterlife, finally at peace, I am with your daddy and he wants to talk to you through me, through Tono, to each of you privately, he has so much he wants to say, so if there’s anything each of you wanted to say to him before he died but never got the chance to, now is your opportunity, he has hours to devote to connecting with each of you.” And we were all like “no thanks creep, yikes! jesus christ, don’t you get it?!!?!?!?” Except Erekt who started to sob, cry, whine about this and bla bla that and we were all like “Enough!!!!! PLEASE stop!! STOP Erekt, seriously, shut the fuck up, no one cares about you, fuck right off and get out of here!!!!!” He left the room finally. He was sobbing like a baby.

So then we spun the dial and got to Grizzly Murders, thank god. none of us knew him that well but we were like “yeah, let’s do this, we got this. Grizzly? You around? You on there?? HELLO? Grizz? Mr. Murders?” Then Tono started to shake a whole lot and shake and shake and yell and was crying and we were frightened but also like “this is so real.”

And in a deep low voice not her own, not normal Tono began:

“Hello *burp* y’all.

Grizzly Murderz here transmitted mentally after death from the mind heart of an orca majestic killer whale in the north sea. 

I’m here to tell you that my death wasn’t an internet baited fish battle as a rumored bout about cold frozen bloody orca bites in the sea.

But when I died the tears silently dripped in torrents from my eyes as the earthly blaze of Brain’s cabin destroyed by me infernally, eternally forever burning now and my silent jealous rage justicely was exhausted, fueling the gasoline pissed flames — so now I talk only mentally.

No longer physically. This swimming mammalian brain does not seize but only flows. And Grizzly Murder’s murderous soul only flows deep, so deep, put her butt to sleep in the cold sea floes. Floes deep now dead.

And will forever resonate transmittedly to such a head.”

We were shocked cause we kind of suspected all of this, in detail, as my sister, Ghost Rose, had been watching reports on Alaska Now news about recent rare killer whale sightings in the North Sea and had found out that recently an orca had started to swim quite erratically in the North Sea, right past all guards, into through the gates, right inside to the cove where no whale ever goes, and there the creature had risen to the top of the ice flow mixed with waves, through his blow hole shouted “I was half of the man known as Grizzly Murders before this moment – and… I, he… perished. ooooooggggoooo (whale sound)…..in the flames in the Alps and my other half was flung into the body/mind of federal Judge Tennessee Johannson of Pow’s Hole, How Tow at the same exact minute of the same day: 5:03am.

And so we googled the judge and were very interested to find that, in night court, at 5:03am that very same day, Johannson had been at the bench, hurled his gavel into the air, into the audience, during the sentencing of a young man for 18 to life, flung off his court robes, left court to become a talent manager & 2 gobble up talent under the same name, his actual name, but in a particular and brand new outfit and look.

Yes it’s tragic, but yes, it’s also fantastic, come on, agree with me about this. So yeah, it’s a day in the life of being a Rose, and yes it’s sad that 2 men are dead but today we emailed to Johannson and were like “we’d like to sit down with you and possibly make a deal, can we meet soon? can you call me?” and he wrote back “Not a problem.” And we also paid for and dispatched a team to the North Sea to tag that killer whale but no word yet from the team, pretty sure we got this though. Much of our money comes from stock dividends. It’s just a whale swimming in the ocean, I know, yes the frigid ice sea, do you recognize that? and yes, I agree, a place we can’t begin to fathom, upon our same earth, but also we’re open to discussing possibilities with a whale. We’re open to its logic, confident that in the killer whale’s meat heart are fat tears like our own human ones and their flow is what made the ocean in the first place mate.

Goodnight forever Brogan + Murders. Death in shack was right for you, we can only hope you’re enjoying the Elysian Fields and Shangri-la doing problems + experiments on clouds/thrones and other ghost souls cause that’s all that’s up there honestly. Or maybe you made a cabin out of the clouds and put it in the cloud forest so to that we’re like “K, yikes.” Enjoy death doctors, it’s specifically coming for you all.

#SIGNEDBLOBBY

Field Report from Dring Lane: Eye of a Hurricane

I’m struck by the light this morning. Very clear very still very much in the now. It is quite striking but not like lightning which I’ve never been hit by. Thank you for asking.

I was asked by Brian Rose’s questionable son, Blobby Roses, to become a field reporter for FFF Magazine. Something to do with his father’s will and last dying wish and like the last thing he said, my name. Thank YOU for asking. I said “Branum, for you, and all your friends, and all our friends, and everyone we’ve ever known, and everyone that’s ever looked in the eye of a hurricane and all those kids down by the marina and everyone that’s ever asked, of course I fucking will, thank you for asking.”

So it is on an apple crisp and clear Brooklyn morning, the sun is rising in the east in Wallabout Bay, I think, that I log my first field report with you, dear reader. Let me, in the words of a man much wiser than I, just say, “now, for the first time ever, everything its possible again.”

Pound Puppy Round Up

You dogs all aboard. There’s a new dog catcher in town and they are deeply focused on capturing, training, putting down when necessary, picking up after, putting down, watching 2 suffer. Rebuilding from exploded concrete in order to basic need. Sustaining, learning from mistakes, doing his best, advancing in the eyes of superiors at his job.

Alexander Ropul Do is the catchers name and let me tell you my first impressions: they keep me up late at night, make me feel anxious & kind of miserable in the daytime, early morning just worried about the little guys by the tracks and docks.


Do is a rotten tyrant, a threat, a cocky gentleman, spends his time off at his home in Glastonbury, Tone – building cages out of precious mahogany, wrapping twigs with piano wire & ribbons, into too tight bundles, so he can start impressive hot romance fires anytime someone says: let’s have a fire!? Okay, not a problem.

Be aware tho, be a very ware of your surroundings puppies!!!! If you cherish a PP they are gonna get taken from you and placed in a house-made cage!

Love it now soft puppy, live it til you perish pound! POUND PUPPIES <3 <3 <3 There’s only one brand, and it’s POUND.

#SIGNEDBLOBBY

It’s a Boon, the cat is named Boon, The teller is named Boon and I wanted to go to Boon NC

I have a ticket, I bought it 14 years ago and I still have it. The thing is they forgot to put the date on it so it’s good for any date I want to use it. 

And that date was yesterday BUT. I took it to the station and I was like LOOOOOOOOOKKKK I want to use this NOOOOOOW. I want to get the fuck out of this fucking place and go THERE -> … right there, yes that place on the map where I am touching hard with my finger. I will touch, I will touch. I am pointing to a place on a map in your office and it’s where I wish to take the train and LISTEN TO ME I want to go on it now, the train, and leave now, HELP ME!!!! 

It was a disaster I admit, embarrassing and sad. I’m in mourning. I pissed off the person who chooses and the one who comes. I pissed off all the people in the place who wanted to go. I pissed off everyone that was sitting down and standing by the drink machine cause they were plunking quarters into it to get their cokes and their jolts.

There is a wild cat outside the house now, I went NOWHERE. It’s chomping at the bit. Shit wants so bad to come in to the warm place and be on the lap of a man. It’s pathetic. It’s kitty cat weak. 

The heat is off again. I think? It does that cause I don’t understand which way to turn the dial. It’s pathetic and foolish.

And I’m like listen cat you gross mouse eating ammonia, thats her name, you CANNOT come inside tonight. I won’t let you. 

Blobby isn’t tame, Blobby is feeling tonight so what I did was this. I pulled the cat in and I let it live in the house and I called the teller at the station and was like LISTEN I fucked up and freaked out at you. You did not deserve to be yelled at in this way. You did not know about the powerful ticket, it was limitless. You were not aware so listen, come to dinner at my mansion and me and my 2 brothers and 4 sisters will make sure you have something you like and when you want to leave we won’t let you leave, we will block you from leaving. 

We won’t let you because of one reason alone. A reason alone is this:
YOU ARE GONNA HAVE THIS.
YOU ARE GONNA TAKE.
YOU ARE GONNA BE THE LAP IN THIS PLACE.  

Trash

Since things are changing at the magazine, so much change, so fast. New initiatives every day around here. 

In honor of the changing times and the newness, we’re introducing a new section in FFF hot mag. 

“TRASH”

It’s a section about testing the limits and wanting more. It’s about getting exactly what you asked for then balling it up and setting it aflame. It’s about the lighter in your hand and the one in your pocket, so thick, so full of butane, toxic to drink but perfect for lighting for that one thing. 

In 2018 Trash has a lot of meaning to most of us. It’s sparse with FX. It’s a blast to consume. Excellent and timely, actual plastic, actual now, actual TRASH!!!

OH, duh, #SIGNEDBLOBBY 🙂

HERE 2 stay

#SIGNEDBLOBBY

The Moon is showing bright and our boss is dead so yeah

So yeah, it’s not easy to go on after a DOCTOR like B Rose has perished in such a disgusting way, but really it feels like we have a new lease on life now, yeah there are 7 kids in our family and we wish to be heard by the masses.

We wish for attention and for everyone to hear us and see what we have. We are waiting for someone to actually listen to us and we’re sitting around together all the time like wishing people would just you know, get us.

But they don’t but we have this magazine and the doctor is not in now. The doctor is now dead and we are dealing how we can. #solidly #withstealth

Don’t let go. Dr. Rose didn’t and look at everything he became.

We miss you papa, daddy, doctor, lawyer, entrepreneur, old newspaper man.
You are in our hearts tho. And I think we are prolly in yours.

<3

#SIGNEDBLOBBY

Brian Rose, FFF founder, important business entrepreneur and controversial gentleman, has died at the age of the big 4-0.

It is with great sadness and woe that FFF Magazine 🙂 announces today, the death of our most glorious magnanimous CEO leader, Brian Dashel Allen Rose, son of D.A. Rose, assistant district attorney P.I.

Brian perished fully brutally and died Tuesday, December 4, 2018 at his home in Glastonbury, of a massive explosion and lust.

Rose rose to power in the early 2000s as an early investor and dedicated family guy.

In the last year he’s been in the limelight also famous uncontrollably uncomfortably facing his worst fears and nightmares as Char Ming, his beautiful pet well fed soft horse with a big ol horse butt, and honestly the horse love of his human being life, died in his arms on the outskirts of town earlier A not OK corral.

Rose grew up in Connecticut, the son of Assistant Attorney General D. A. Rose (born Dire Rose) and pilot mind bender Jessica Sodo Flewno.

Brian graduated from Harvard in 2006 at the top of his class, having studied investment law.

He became a billionaire at the age of  21 when he discovered a rare and quite flexible stone known as Lartz Miraz, used as the principal material in the construction of many of the bridges and tunnels used in our time today, ones you have been on at least once prolly.

Rose was the first CEO in the whole world to receive the medal of joy as part of the president Obama’s program “Endless Boundless Brigadiers “.

Rose’s last will is clear and it’s meaning cannot be misunderstood: “FFF Magazine is to become the most important magazine of all time and to cause such disruption in human history as to be so kick ass and fantastic, that no one won’t notice and that’s so important. My sons Blobby, Whip, and Erekt and my daughters Sloan, Mell, Gall, and Ghost will take over all my properties and killer business opportunities, of which FFF Magazine is my favorite and most profitable.”

We love you Brian, we love you so deeply it pains the FFF Magazine staff that you are now so very dead but also we take comfort in your words, wisdom, and hope you’re in a better far off place like heaven or hell forever enjoying glass and desserts with heated up frozen fruit, watching the tv shows you like and honestly Brian, like you often said “tada”!

You were a great little kid and child, a great teen, perfect 10, a great 20 something, a fantastic CEO and editor and owner, and a good dad and you loved Char Ming!!! It’s okay to go Brian cause honestly? We love you and always will!

XOXO <3
You son and best friend, Blobby Rose.