Putlynn, Putler, Puteen? No, Rasputin here!

I am all that you are not, I have all that you do not. I am Rasputin, hallowed be my name, Rasputin in your freaked out face! Not Putlynn, Jenner, not Putler, Vladolf, not Puteen, Shemale Proshamed.

What the hell of a Casanova threesome!? There are only three bras with bigger balls than mine on this cursed pink earth that I can wear as a badge of valor, Vladimir Putin, real war, Donald J. Trump, BullShip war, and Alex Jones, Infowars, all of whom I respect.

Howdy, wink, wink, please contain your indecent proposal saliva, keep your pissed fly zipped up to ten, however hard or impossible it is! It is poignantly obvious that I am dead sexy and the fallen world damn knows it. Sucksy, Saxxy, Socksy, Sixee, Suxsex are some of my nicknames. I received practically little education in the intricacies of the Russian Orthodox faith. No other figure has received the amount of vilification and contempt heaped upon Rasputin me the man! I am a puppet master, I manipulate. And because I manipulate, please do not watch out! Thank you!

You do not want me to show you the Tsar and Tsarina as puppets in Rasputin's last hand, do you? You know that Byethen touchy-feely and Huntah parmesan cheese extravaganza. But I do not do cartoons, just girls over 18 and women, proudly, mostly peacefully, I assure you rape is not my thing! I am a fucking pilgrim, a wanderer, a strannik befrending you, my beloved oligarchy. I just predict, nothing else.

“Whenever, I embrace the Tsar and the Tsarina, the girls, and the Tsesarevich, I shudder with horror, as if I embrace the dead. And then I pray for these people. I pray for the Imperial Family, because the shadow of a long Eclipse falls on them.”

Hmmm, I also predicted the October revolution of 1917, which was a really big deal changing the whole world forever, to never be the same again, communism, socialism … the arrival of a new power in Russia and mountains of corpses, among which would be the bodies of the Grand Dukes, and the water in the Neva will be stained with their blood. I said,

“Darkness will descend on Petersburg. When its name is changed [Petrograd], then the Empire will end.”

And guess what, I was murdered by a group of nobles in 1916.

As a global catastrophe soothsayer in the face, my vague prophecies are very accurate, truly spine-chilling. Turkey, Syria, coincidence?

“Earthquakes will become more frequent, lands and waters will open, and their damage will engulf people …”

“The seas, like thieves, will enter cities, into houses, and the lands will be drenched with salt …”

Rasputin me the man knows that over the past 100 years, sea levels have risen by almost 20 centimeters. He also knows that scientists routinely conduct computer simulations, according to which the current trend in climate change will lead to a rise in sea level by 3 meters or more over the next hundred of years. The bloody bastard is rightfully informed, self-educated, the hell, the horrors!

How could an illiterate peasant in 1912 even simply assume something like that? Look at you and your loss of moral values, you fucking Western degenerates!

“When times draw near to the abyss, man’s love for man will turn into a dry plant …”

All one has to do is to turn on the television on any news channel to see proof of this on a daily basis.

Oh, I did not predict development of genetic engineering, right?

“Monsters will be born that will not be humans or animals ...

“Irresponsible human alchemy, in the end, will turn ants into huge monsters that will destroy homes and entire countries …”

For example, let us recall the world’s most popular sheep – Dolly. On 5th July 1996, the first cloned mammal was “born”. The animal was produced from frozen genetic material from an already deceased donor. Dolly became a complete copy of her prototype and lived for almost 7 years, God´s favorite number. She gave birth to 6 lambs, Satan´s arrival 666.

Nowadays, rumors about the cloning of a mammoth are already circulating. Ok, I just made this up, lol, right? What is this if not the beginning of the implementation of the predictions of the “elder”?

Aha! In my crazy prophecies, I mention three world wars. Two of them have already passed, and the third is happening right now as I speak or type. Are you listening, will you keep reading me while supporting me, my food and Internet? I cannot speak or type if you are not, I cannot do that if you do not!

“Three hungry snakes will crawl along the roads of Europe, leaving behind ash and smoke … The time of peace will come, but the world will be written in blood. And when two fires go out, the third fire will burn the ashes. “

Putting aside one’s personal views of Rasputin me the scary man or “supernatural” beliefs in propecies, let us hope not anymore because it is all happening, humanity is facing truly terrible trials and tribulations. We do it to ourselves, no aliens are involved, you do it to me! No, not you, at ease, your evil government! We are strangers in a strange land. So it is not only me. I just write and pray. I hate to predict, though I do love to heal, trust me on that, at least on that! Just like in my other post titled Hope? Nope, Dope, Cope!

Maybe Rasputin does have a real relationship with God. Maybe I am not a false prophet speaking my ass. Maybe I am not a phony. Not only because I do not have a cell phone or landline telephone, but also because the Internet is the Devil´s media through which God is talking to all of us, trying to tell us something, calling us out, to stop our crap, cut the flying BullShip, just land it. Are we not all down-to-earth? Maybe I have a soul that belongs to God while the body is stormed by Satan when the mind battles and suffers the unfair world, so many casualties. I still thank God for the suffering …. Rasputin, not the Great, but the Grateful.

Rasputin took advantage of the political instability and upheavals of the era. He manipulated the Tsarina into allowing Rasputin him the man a ministerial leap frog. This caused anarchy in the government as competent and successful men were removed. Rasputin’s scandalous and sinister reputation helped discredit the tsarist government and thus helped precipitate the overthrow of the Romanov dynasty a few weeks after he was assassinated. Accounts of his life and influence were often based on hearsay and rumor.

In other words, I am all that you are not, I have all that you do not. I am Rasputin, hallowed be my name, Rasputin in your freaked out face! Not Putlynn, Jenner, not Putler, Vladolf, not Puteen, Shemale Proshamed!

FYI! Effing Efimovich Rasputin, big time, big deal, is one of the most debated characters of the 21st century on Subtract. Billions have discussed whether I am truly a holy simple man who comes to the aid of the royally fucked up family to save the dynasty and thus the entire world, or more eloquently, a complex cheat who thrives in womanizing and in truth, a troubled man who has a debauched sexual appetite. After all, the word Rasputin in Russian means the debauched one. You know the effing friction, the effing fiction made scratched or scratching reality, the eff show where something itches - so you scratch it, Rasputin, me, and MEH 2 (go figure, do not click for further details, on the P, leave the P alone, I meant Putin, you dirty-minded prankster, don´t be a perv, c´mon man!).

Millions have wanted to pay me for my glorious deeds, but I stand my falling sky and howling, shooting star, refusing the money like blood diamonds out of sheer pride. KKK, easy, easy on me, easy on MEH 2, calm the fook down, bras, and bros, gross! So, after careful, moral-pending review of my fixed bankrupcy upon your sicko-psycho endless requests, at last, I am changing my completely deranged mind, wink, wink, and I promise, even swear, not on the Bible as I cannot afford to blaspheme, I will accept any token from you my whining little bitches, exclusively from now on. What say you, my whining little bitches? I know you adore me, how I treat you. 50 shades of Gay. Catch the Gay, baby! Yet do you really love my odious ideology to death, my death, not yours?

No bribes, please, just straight cash! Though there is a lethal bioweapon jab possibility, no worries, no eco or humanity-friendly Pfizer Shizer, my hilarious tax-free manager Willy Lewinsky takes all credit cards, lick, lick, tuck, tuck, phuck, phuck, swallow, swallow, sniff, sniff, like seamen on Impeachment Eve, wink, wink. Feel free to explore this better side of me the man, Rasputin! Sing, sing the International Communist Anthem along with me! The worst is still to come ….

C´mon man, I´m just the saint who sins, what´s the big deal, got a problem with that? If so, eff off! I ain´t didn´t do nuthin´, nuttin´ wong! Don´t ya know who I am, ya moron, ya amoeba of cosmic cretenism? I´m the effing Efimovich Rasputin, literally attempting to give an accurate analysis of me the man and MEH 2 (censored for R content), eff off! I rinse and repeat, I´m the effing Efimovich Rasputin, not a UFO, at least not this time, eff off, effing Efimovich Rasputin here at it!

He left home, wherever it was, and wandered to Mount Athos, Greece, Jerusalem, and elsewhere, living off the peasants' donations and gaining a reputation as a staretz (self-proclaimed holy man) with the ability to heal the sick and predict the future.

Going viral, not only on social media, I am this poop or popular single-celled animal that catches food and moves about by extending fingerlike projections of protoplasm. You guessed it, an amoeba, a sucker, the smallest kind of living creature, a unique, seemingly brainless, amoeba with lots of ammo, showing off, goofing around, both free-living in damp environments and parasitic. My hole life is only one big cell, no way out, except just digging through it, perhaps most definitely!

Hey, I am famous for my stink. You will never find anything like it even if you scratch the bottom of the barrel of the world. Rasputin also goes long periods of time without touching himself or washing. Throughout the rest of his life, people do complain about his hygiene. I always brag about not changing my underwear, leaf, remember I am the fucking Tarzan man, for over six months, and food often rots in my beard. I am a scavenger anyway. Who cares? You?

Sure, it is good to know that if I act strangely enough, society will take full responsibility for me, for my classy behavior, humble beliefs, malarial visions. Being in the most hideous position, I always choose to believe what I want to believe …. common sense, piece of cake, American Pie in your fugly face, Rasputin.

I wil spell it for you: Compassion, Generosity, and Depredation through promiscuity. CGD. Like the FBI, Female Body Inspector! Who does not love the three letter agencies as necessary evil? My computer voice, no Artificial Intelligence BullShit, is soothing and appealing. My irrestible, unsurpassed even by sin, sin broken even, charisma outweighs what the Dekadent Romanticks call a strong animal smell, like that of goat.

C´mon man, I fucking told you to forget about the so utterly corrupt and coked up Goat/Ghost of Kiev in high heels on the beaten, artificially created Lil´ Western Hero horse, who sold his huge, prosperous country, who destroyed an entire nation with its massive economy on lifesupport, only to be euthanized, sacrificing it upon the altar of his greedy actor´s role owned by Satan or Bidumb in the United Satanic America, Captain fucking America, Evil´s perfection beyond any reasonable doubt!

Cunt you Z that? That I the man am highly charismatic and deviously intelligent, who manage to woo my way into the good graces of you the oligarchy, my royal family, and act as a close friend to you Tsar and your bank account Tsarina while, in reality, I am instead holding a tight grip upon the three of us, not Putlynn Jenner, Putler Vladolf, or Puteen Shemale Proshamed, I do not do or milk underage cash cows. Much less Vladdy Daddy, Trumpee, or Jonesy, God forbid, have mercy, my Lord, I desire not these prisoners of war! See, now I am holding an even tighter grip upon you, me, and MEH 2 and keeping you under my thumb so to ...

…. and all this because of the fact that democratically brings you this latest breaking news, through alternative media like Subtract, oh that subterranean terror, that no matter I am in the volcanic/tropical wilderness of Nicaragua, the very bleeding heart of Central America, I am Rasputin, a Siberian-born muzhik, or resilient peasant, who underwent a religious conversion as an innocent teenager and proclaimed himself a healer with the ability to predict the future, who won the favor of Czar Nicholas II and Czarina Alexandra through his ability to stop the bleeding of their hemophiliac son, Alexei, in 1908.

I am the self-styled Mad Monk because I am a heavy drinker. I drink volcanic rain water because coffee and tea are too damn expensive down here in the scorching jungle. Generally, the prices make me freeze, leave me cold. But what about alcohol or alcohole? That is otherworldly, my friend. Or should I bless you with some really nice nickname, like Asshole? Look at that! What? That halo around your head, Asshole! It fits you, the halo, it even rhymes, you Asshole! Ha ha ha, halo, halo ….

Sadly, melodramatically, from times immemorial, moneyless, I am just a weakened workaholic typing my last hand off on my dying 15 year old computer, rinse and repeat. Sorry, I know it is so annoying to keep hearing that, but believe me it is so much fun, pure sado-masochism, to type it over and over again like there is no tomorrow, and one day there really will not be any tomorrow. Because it is the truth, bare with me, I swear on the Bible, it is what it is, I cannot help it! Everybody turns a deaf ear, a blind eye, ignores my sincere plea to make a fundraiser for Rasputin, to help him make his ends meet, make him sigh not. Apparently, everybody hates Rasputin. And how he has always wanted to be loved, just about the only effing thing in the fucking world I have to bear with you!

It is said that he rarely sobered up, and when he did, it was only to spend time with various ladies of the court. In fact, despite his severe lack of hygiene, Rasputin managed to gain the favors of a lot of noblewomen. So sorry, old honchos, grumpy alpha males, Putin, Trump, Jones, forget about my strong, relatively young sex, my unusual sex drive, Motorola, my one-of-a-kind libido, authentically derived from its predecessor powerful Libor the man, gotcha!

Ok, not so fast, but first flash your credit cards, plural, correct, not just one, against my slot-no-fraud machine, like badges of your honor, acts of good will in good faith because you know my fate. You know my fate. I was murdered. You fucking knew of my supposed weakness for sweets. You laced cakes and wine with cyanide and served them to me, and, when I miraculously survived the poison, God loved me more than anything else, God loved me above all, FFS, you fucking shot me dead, just like that. Such an egregious, controversial death. Phuck! I was so outraged, so pissed off, so dead sexy. I was shot dead, murdered, dead sexy. But I already fucking told you! Frankly, I do not know why I have to rinse and repeat and be so fucking vulgar.

Tank you, sank you very much! Unstoppable hypersonic missile love from Putin, err, Rasputin!

Whatever the deep scars, mine or yours, I am a healer. You had better not consider me a sexual deviant, mystic healer, political saboteur, and renegade monk, or else! You know what I mean. I do not shave, I use my blade to kill other weaker wild or domesticated animals, wildlife is a biatch in frozen heat, sometimes, kill or be killed. Slash or be slashed, a cut-throat treasure island, baby! It is what it is!

The vulgar, mysterious Rasputin is both reviled and revered during my lifetime. Yes, I have cum to become a scapegoat for various dissident groups of the time period. Jerk off to somebody else! No Jesus fucking Christ, you blasphemer, after Christ, Devil comes, you Asshole! No, nothing personal, no offence, that is just my passionate way to mean honey, sweetheart, darling. Well, at least, that it how I see an asshole. Good, good, thank God, you have calmed the fook down, you were too fast, you were too furious. Kindness up your ass. No one can be nicer or kinkier, the new normal!

Let me remind you one last time that my name Rasputin means "dissolute", for my tireless pursuit of girls, and "crossroads", in which my worn-out, burnt-out sex drive is located between. Believe it or not, I do have a dual reputation of "second sight" from the beginning. Again, rumor has it that I could spot a horse thief in a crowd with one glance and predict the weather for farmers, bullshit like that. Of course, this casts a religious glow of sanctity about me, not MEH 2, nonetheless!

I do have the ability to know what others are thinking and heal people in conditions which are impossible to heal by a doctor during the time. Call me Shaman, if you will! A person regarded as having access to, and influence in, the world of good and evil spirits, because I typically enter a trance state during a ritual, and practice divination and healing.

Believe I am a German spy, a Nazi, a 4th Reich nutzie, no matter I am from and look to the East, like in The Lord of The Rings as the Sauron Eye collapses! If you share Sauron vision, you have the following: crossed eyes, lazy eye, drooping eyelid, prominent eye, glaucoma, retinal disease, cataracts, eye infections or eye injury, WTF, Dark Lord, WTF, Impaled Warlord!

Become paranoid and want me to be monitored by the police, you SOB, POS, MTF! You forget that I am Rasputin, the effing Efimovich Rasputin. I predicted my own death, but was unclear on who would commit the heinous act. Was I really thrown into the icy river in December in 1916?

Do I have to explain how I am not popular by the boozing common people since I do not even have an appetite for alcoholic beverages, needless to add I have no money?

Imagine I live in Paris in a private, gated mansion penthouse apartment with a swimming pool, using my public Subtract jet, traveling the globe (cost me a dollar or two), pathetically begging you for contributions to my genuine mere survival campaign! And now these fucking peasants and aristocrats come to visit me in the jungle asking for help and money! Asking me!

Asking me? R U SHITTING ME AND MEH 2? WTF, poople, what the hell is wrong with you!? For heaven´s sake, my goodness, I am in a third-world country shithole, Asshole (pun intended, parodying honey, sweetheart, darling, memorize it)! What on earth are you smoking? What the hell on earth is my right price, only to reach heaven?

I do not want to brag about my sexual conquests, how I through Rasputin´s Stink, the ultimate perfume, like Nike or Yike, bribe high society women or lowlife womean trash into sleeping with me in return for political favors. Damn yuck as phuck! I do not feel like explaining why I am appalled by the belief that grace is found by harming one´s body, the idea that one can attain grace through sin is not secret!

This fucking shit happens all the time. What am I talking about? The trial for my murder was canceled due to the conspirators being members of the aristocracy, this did not sit well with the peasants, who were unhappy with their monarch after disastrous military exploits, that! Nicaragua is the Banana Republic, I need no monarchy, or government for that matter.

What did I symbolize? Well, to the emergent Bolsheviks, Rasputin symbolized the corruption at the heart of the Imperial court, and his murder was seen, rather accurately, as an attempt by the nobility to hold onto power at the continued expense of the proletariat. To them, Rasputin represented the broader problems with czarism. They claimed that their motive was the patriotic desire to rid Russia of an evil influence, of Rasputin.

But, you did not count on this, I was raised from the dead to kiss your precious, pretty a.Notpfitty,forIdidnottakethePfizerjab.OMG,OMG,Iaminthetediousprocessofkissingyourpricelessa. Holy smoke, though there is almost no fire in my volcano, I am safe! Even the effing Efimovich Rasputin is like WTF, Libor!? No, I would never do that, I mean to kick your ass. I love to kiss asses. Yours is so special to me, be it female or male! The powers that be, the need that be! How much have you got? For me, for Rasputin the man?

On one, and only, hand, I know how undivided your great support is, how I have gained it through my cheap Deep Impact motel (a brothel here) memoirs, my supernatural powers, people cheer me as a holy monk. On the other hand, uncut off, there are these skeptics who think, not know, that he may be known as a phony with a false connection to God. Either way, that is the gripping story of Rasputin the man. Unfortunately, I am the moron or moral of this fairy tail. What the snake is that? Oops, did I do that? How could this possibly happen, and in front of the puritans and hypocrites? You know me, the debauched one, Rasputin!

Rasputin stated “When the bell tolls three times, it will announce that I have been killed. If I am killed by common men, you and your children will rule Russia for centuries to come; if I am killed by one of your stock, you and your family will be killed by the Russian people! Pray Tsar of Russia. Pray.”

Keep me in your heart, do not shrug me off as an “important” political figure, like who gives a shit! This outstanding man, Rasputin, though he was not royalty, was close to the royal family and had a hand in its downfall. So now you know why I have only one hand left, which is left, whoops, why I am leaning right! I am dead sexy and you know it! Facing many tribulations, I have stopped your suffering, without my blade! Thank me large because nothing is larger than life as I thank you for your short attention span.

Putlynn Jenner, Putler Vladolf, or Puteen Shemale Proshamed? No, Rasputin here!

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