Showing posts with label assassination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label assassination. Show all posts

Sunday, March 15, 2015

MARCH 15, 44 BCE




In an alternate universe, did a soothsayer approach the Ides of March and say, "Beware of Julius Caesar, for he will make a bloody mess."

***

Brutus walks into a bar and the bartender asks, "What will it be?"
Brutus says, "I'll have a Bloody Caesar, please."
"I should have known," said the bartender.

***

Cassius:  He's back!
Brutus:  Who's back?
Cassius:  Caesar, Julius Caesar.  He's back.
Brutus:  He is?
Cassius:  Yes, but only as a salad.  He'll leaf us alone if we leaf him alone.

***

"How are you getting along these days, Julius?" asks a reporter.
"Great!" says Caesar. "My friends always have my back."
  
***

"Hello.  Is this the Praetorian Insurance Company?  It is?  Good.  I'm a beneficiary on Julius Caesar's life insurance policy.  It's been 2,059 years since he died, and I have yet to receive any money . . . "

Thursday, February 26, 2015

THIS IS NOT A CONSPIRACY THEORY




Michael Jackson does not look like a killer, does he?
He is.  Michael Jackson was behind the assassinations of President John Kennedy, Senator Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King.  Why?  Both Kennedys and Martin Luther King never went to a Jackson Five concert.  This angered Michael to no end.


Michael looked like this when he carried out the killings.  He changed his appearance over the years to keep from getting caught.  Investigators were looking for a black guy with an Afro and not a white lady with long black hair.

Michael managed to evade arrest up until the Spring of 2009.  That's when investigators started putting the pieces of the puzzle together.  It showed Michael Jackson was responsible for all three deaths, and may have been behind 911.  To avoid arrest, Michael Jackson faked his own death.

Michael Jackson is alive and well and living on the Moon where he goes for walks daily.

This is not a conspiracy theory, it is fact.  How do I know?  I have a reliable source: my imagination.