Monday, September 7, 2015

The Number One Habit Of Eminently Disagreeable Bastards


    If the world is about anything right now, it’s motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation, motivation.

    And (most important): MOTIVATION!

    times a hundred and ten per cent!


 
    These are harsh, austere, competitive times, and a man (or a woman man) gotta have spunk, plenty of spunk, squirting from those action glands into the marble tiled, genitalia-massaging hot tubs of success.

    Ultimately, we are all solely responsible for the outcome of our own lives, and if we’re wandering round complaining that we’re poor, unloved, disabled, dead, or shafted the hell on out of our bugger pipes for some other STUPID reason, then we only have ourselves to blame for THINKING THE WRONG THOUGHTS and TAKING THE WRONG ACTIONS and maybe BEING BORN WITH FUCK GOOFY TEETH.

    “Hose down your inner hot tub.”

    “Squirt Action Spunk as a fearless stallion.”

    “Crush the Feeble with the power of your dreams.”

    You’ve all heard the hot, new mantras, used them to fire up your rampaging gusto like the strongmen of circuses yore inflated cows’ stomachs to the size of zeppelins with the gush of their own piss — but what does it take to become such an eminently disagreeable bastard that the Law of Attraction blows all of its bounty YOUR WAY?


    OK — here’s the answer!


    Remember all the people mercilessly slain by Genghis Khan?

    No, course you don’t.  They were all put to the sword or burned alive or torn to pieces  way long ago during ancient history’s Mongol Horde Era.

    But if you believe in the spirits of the dead — as you must if you’re serious about luxuriating your butt off in life’s hot tub of success — then you can turn the pain, anguish and plain old hatred of these people to your advantage.


    Now, I see what you’re thinking.

    Gee, so you’re saying I can call upon the spirits of the dead to help me manifest my dreams and desires, kinda like some folks do with Jesus, only instead of drawing down the power of some do-gooder milksop, I ought to hit on a Big Time destructive barbarian from the savagest era known to man?  So — d’oh — why not go straight for the head honcho, and mind meld with Cap’n Slashbowel himself, Genghis Khan?!!!

    Seems logical, but remember: cruel and unrelentingly vicious though he may have been, Khan was just one guy.

    Plus, he was one of life’s winners, knowing little of failure, defeat, heartache, despair — and all the other max power emotion shit all the dead guys have in spades!

    You think Khan is still full of bloodlust as he’s romping around the spirit world on a mad horse?

    Nah!  It’s job done, game over.

    If he’s got any sense, Khan will be lying on a sun bed having his nails pampered by naked girls, quaffing milkshake after milkshake alongside Hitler, Pol Pot, and Rod Hull.

    Invite any of these losers to spunk up your mojo and you’ll be motivated and energized as a dishcloth!


    Truth is, you have to mix it up with all the raging dead guys Khan slew — every last one you can lay your spirit guided hands on.

    All these agonised souls had heads chopped off, bowels pulled out, eyes gouged from skulls — or else they were burned alive, thrown onto spikes, thrown to the wolves (and worse).

    Question: Do you think any of these hacked-up, mangled bastards are happy right now?

    And what do you figure are the odds on them being HUNGRY TO DO SOMETHING REAL MEAN TO EVERY MOTHERFUCKER GETS IN THEIR WAY — if only they could?

    So, forget Khan, forget Hitler.

    Fuck it — forget EMU.

    Leave these pussies alone.

    Real Deal Headhonchoville = all the dead guys the Mongol Horde Era skewered, burned and butchered from the face of the planet.

    Call those guys down, and you’re rampaging over the corpses of your enemies, people.

    You’re dreaming big and actioning the impossible, tooling up your motivation to crush all before you like ants.

    ANTS!!!


    THIS IS THE NUMBER ONE HABIT OF EMINENTLY DISAGREEABLE BASTARDS.

    Make it the biggest tool in your Motivation armoury, and YOU.  WILL.  RULE.

    No question.


 Jacuzzi Spakkert is an internationally renowned clairvoyant, mystic, business guru, and motivational speaker.  He has written scores of bestselling self-help books including The Zodiac of Love, How The Stars Can Get You What You Want, The Coming Age Is Yours, and DESTROY THEM DESTROY THEM ALL.  His latest book, There’s No I In Team But Plenty In DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! hits bookstores in October 2015.  Jacuzzi lives in a self-built temple in Virginia with his wife, Maureen, their two children, Izaak and DEATHTOTHEBASTARDCRAWLINGHORDES, and twelve thousand devoted followers/mercenaries.  The Spakkerts famously sponsor a neglected donkey called Tony.

You can find out more about Jacuzzi Spakkert and his inspirational work here and here.

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