hehehe...hehehe....meheheheh...mwahahahaHAHAHA hack cough Oh sorry, I was just...uh...being me? C'mon, on top of my autism I'm a giant megalomaniac with messianic delusions worse than my hemorrhoids. I gotta cackle a little bit. Especially since, oh! I haven't told you of my diabolical plan yet. Guess I better do that in a logical and orderly fashion because too much chaos overstimulates me and I gotta do the hand flappy dance until the bad feels go away. So, let's do this!

Ok, first I'm going to move all the way across the country and start a new life. I've done this before when I thought the archangel Samael was commanding me to for a mission from God, but that's my schizoaffective. I bet you would all think my theories on how the moon is really hollow and made by a previous civilization to hold the giant hivemind supercomputer that's really God are pretty boring, so I'll check this step off as complete and move on.

Next up, imma juggle. Yup, that's as detailed as the notes are in my Rocko's Modern Life day planner. I was too hyperfixated with these evil spoons I designed which grow into big spoons when in hot or cold liquid to really write anything substantial. But, if I can surmise what past me meant, which I can cuz I'm a jeenyus yo, I would guess that means I would throw my three balls around and meet people. Did this as I traveled the country while homeless and always had an abundance of friends I could count on.

But wait! There's a nefarious catch! See, the finding friends thing is just a clever ruse. After a few days of doing my throwing and socializing thing, the real plan begins to take hold. See, I've got a secret contact who totally doesn't pay me in government hush money for his time working with the CIA. They're going to come up to me on the sidewalk and begin filming me. I failed to mention my beard will be braided and I'll be wearing a bright tank top and a sequin-covered skirt during all this, that's important. But anyways yadda yadda, we go through the scripted conversation which paints me as the fucking messiah, and we send that tape to the local news station.

Always thirsty for a story, they will watch the video and learn that I've been juggling for nine years and that I taught myself after an acid trip led me to see the solution to all my problems, the autism, the schizoaffective, the PTSD, the ADHD, the cluster b personality disorders, the social anxiety, the agoraphobia, the addictions, the lack of socialization, the poor moral upbringing, and the damn incest fetish (holy shit was I fucked in the head a decade ago) could be solved by learning to juggle. I'll let you ponder how that's possible for a minute but if you're curious I got a good story about it that I'm too comfy to go get right now. Ask nicely in the comments if you're interested!

And then I get interviewed. Trust me, as someone who was literally brainwashed by the CIA, joined and escaped a cult, and spent three years homeless which ended when I got v& by the FBI, I can tell you that I have a story for the fucking ages. And you know what? That's my terrible, awful, horrible, no good evil plan! See, last night I just finished the final draft of my first book. It's like five hundred pages of my best writing, all about the madness that is my life and how I overcame everything to become an enlightened spiritual teacher. And I'm going to sell that fucking thing until the world has no more money to buy it. Mwahahahaha!

...did I mention I would have a sign that advertised my book through like a QR code or something? Oh, that was important too, because then I get to talk about it in the interview and trust me, I've gotten on the news for less than this before. I know how to work the angles. The Annunaki taught me this strategy, and getting famous is another special interest of mine right up there with forming a cult. You make memes about evil autism; I write manifestos about the best way to color code my socks. We are not the same.