And the tree is UP, O Tinsel of the Tannenbaum of Theta! The Large-Jawed Woman and the Elderly Boyfriend spent time shredding the tin foil on the inside of cigarette packages to decorate the tree.

Greetings, O High Note of the Castrati of Lumbar III!

The Large-Jawed Woman continues her decorating . . . it appears that this is going to be a long month . . . Minion Bruce says that I am being too critical because for some reason he looooooooooooves the hair.

Your Faithful Minion,

Illuminati

Ho Ho Ho, O Gilded Implement of Snow Removal!

As I reported yesterday, the Large-Jawed Woman and the Boyfriend have been in a decorating mood. Of course, after consuming sufficient nectar to create the romantic candlelight mood, they passed out on the floor in front of the tree. But this morning they were up and at it, and covered the Boyfriend's truck. They just drove into town to "boost some more shit", whatever that Terrana colloquialism means, but I managed to snag this image for your records.

Your Faithful Minion,

Illuminati

Just a quick update, O Licorice Stick of the Candy Shelves of Theta! The Large-Jawed Woman has decided to "gussy up the place" for the impending Terran holiday that commemorates the natal day of their divinity. This morning she and the Boy Friend sped off in his vehicle.

This evening they returned with the bed of his truck piled high with boxes covered with sheets. After awhile I heard them inside, and I snuck over and looked under the sheets. The boxes are filled with brightly colored lights and decorations! I also found THIS!

They have set up what I believe is another Minion that they have killed and stuffed, O Grand Shovel! He sits frozen in eternal horror on a shelf, forced to witness THIS!

The Elderly Boyfriend was staggering around the room, having apparently joined the Large-Jawed Woman and her Boy Friend in drinking an inordinate amount of the delicious nectar they customarily consume upon occasions when there isn't enough Sudafed to make "the good stuff".

The room was lit with the romantic glow of candlelight from the centerpiece they had constructed (I should mention that the local Terran company has once again cut the supply of electricity to the domicile).

Minion Bruce has gone off into town for supplies, as I am out of styrofoam pellets and he is out of his favorite scent, Axe.

Your humble Minion,

Illuminati

Greetings, O Leftover Stuffing and Tater Tots of the Gods of Theta! It is I, your sated Minion!

Yesterday the Terrans celebrated the feast in which they ritually give thanks to the elder gods of this planet. The Large-Jawed Woman began the day with resolutions to recreate the feasts of her childhood, by looking at pictures she possessed of her happy family gatherings.

The Large-Jawed Woman allowed herself the luxury of looking at only this picture before she was overwhelmed with sadness and then anger, as she realized how many of the people in the picture had actually testified against her in court. A few delicious nectars later, she smashed an empty PBR against her forehead, and bustled around assembling the ingredients for the feast.

It did not take long before she realized that she did not, in fact, possess any of the traditional ingredients. Things got a little testy with the current Boy Friend and the Elderly Boy Friend once it became clear that there was no turkey, no stuffing, and indeed no more PBRs.

It then became necessary to track down a local dispensary of comestibles for those who possess no shelter, where the Large-Jawed Woman was finally able to celebrate the Holiday of Thanks. Although, as you can see, Your Flatulence, she did not appear particularly thankful.

After the meal was consumed, the entire household piled into the truck and sped off for a little shoplifting at the local Walmart, or as Minion Wannabe Bruce refers to it, Redneck Tiffany. I was able to snap this picture from the shopping cart.

The Large-Jawed Woman was pleased to discover that while she shopped for fripperies, the Boy Friend was able to lam out with an entire grill! And two steaks that he managed to hide up the Elderly Boy Friend's bleergat! The only thing he forgot to smuggle out of the Walmart was natural gas to fire up the grill properly when they returned to the base camp, but ingenious Terran that he is, he managed to figure that out!

All in all, I think that the Large-Jawed Woman enjoyed a lovely festival. And I was able to consume the pellets that had wrapped the grill, so I too gave thanks!

Your obedient minion,

Illuminati

Greetings, O Slightly Off Center Schmatta on the Head of the Overlord of Theta! As you may remember from previous transmissions, the Large-Jawed Woman has an unhealthy fixation with world leaders here on this planet. In her early years, long long ago before her reproductive organs withered, she attached herself to royalty whenever she could --- you may remember our first encounter, when the Large-Jawed Woman had the unfortunate encounter with the Terran Queen and the Lobsters. In recent years she has been courting the man known as Putin, or "Vlad the Impaler" as the Large-Jawed Woman refers to him in her frequent emails. I had checked the data banks, and at first I have thought she was referring to him by this title in reference to a Transylvanian nobleman who affixed his enemies with spears, but it turns out that she uses the word "Impaler" in a different sense. For years she has bombarded Vlad the Impaler with protestations of love and a willingness too be of service. Any kind of service. To my surprise, Vlad has now begun to respond.

At first, it was difficult to understand what the Fearless Leader could desire from the Large-Jawed Woman.

However, she was very excited as these transmissions began to arrive. I believe her actual expression to the Elderly Boyfriend was "Mama done spiked the football this time!!!"

Her spirits were dimmed slightly when he finally made it clear where this was going.

Also, I was under the impression that cooked coyote fell into the category of "meat". Is this not so? Minion Wannabe Bruce says we are going to have to get a frozen pizza for the Terran holiday. That is fine with me, although I will have to persuade him yet again that cooking them ruins the flavor!

Your faithful minion,

Illuminati

Please excuse the recent transmission, O Grand and Mighty Shovel. The transmitter was seized by Minion Wannabe Bruce, who was listening to the Large Jawed Woman rant and just went "oh, snaaaaaaaaaaap", whatever that means.

Meanwhile the Large-Jawed Woman continues to occupy her time with her cellular communication device, sending her greetings and what passes for her thoughts to the world at large. Every once in awhile the Boy Friend will bring her the heavenly delight of something called a PBR, usually in response to a plaintive cry "Mama's thirsty, baby boy!" Occasionally the Large-Jawed Woman will intently read something on her cellular device and become angry. Usually this means an outbreak of typing communications. If it goes on for too long (in the judgement of the Boy Friend), he will drag the garden hose through the window and hose her down. That usually stops it.

I understand through the blergat-vine that Minion Bronson is hosting a get-together this weekend at his place, and was wondering if I might take a night off to attend?

Your faithful minion,

Illuminati

Greetings, O Mighty One! 'tis I, your faithful minion! It's been a quiet weekend here at the outpost. The Large-Jawed Woman has been dragging out pictures from her distant youth. Here on Earth, I mean here in general, it is customary for the humans to be raised in pods created by two members who reproduce themselves in their offspring, passing their genetic materials along in a fairly haphazard manner that can result in oddities. For example, the jaw. The Large-Jawed Woman seems to have been from a fairly messy DNA pool:

This began to manifest itself even further as she reached her teen years:

It does not appear, however, that the familial bonds maintain themselves as the offspring leave the environment in which they are "raised". The Large-Jawed Woman's parental units are on record as having denounced her behaviors, which did not accord with the teachings of the book the natives use for guidance. It details the life and teachings of the "god" they worship instead of the Lords of Theta. While the Large-Jawed Woman herself does not adhere to these beliefs, at moments of stress she becomes quite sentimental about them, and frequently invokes the name of the deity. At the moment the Large-Jawed Woman is planning to vote for Leader of Her Nation for the man who most closely embodies her image of the deity.

Things are getting even stranger, O Dark Overlord of the Smurfs! The Large-Jawed Woman has begun to recruit strange groups of those Terrans from south of the California Border! But then she orders them into other clothing!

She keeps screaming that they are at Thermopylae and that the Persians are coming after her and that they must fight the Persians, even though they are imaginary! But the Persians are stalking her!!!

The Large Jawed Woman herself is claiming that she will lead them in battle.

And they are chanting "Hubba, hubba!" over and over. She has also told them that her Elderly Friend is her mate!

Honestly, I am starting to crack, O Hairpiece of the Trumps!

And Minion Wannabe Bruce is just sleeping in his truck!

Your faithful minion, Illuminati

Good morning, O Nougat Center of the Chocolate Overlords. The Large-Jawed Woman has been awake for some time, and is back on the computational device --- as Minion Wannabe Bruce says, "a-cranking out the same old shit." Truly, O Both Breath and Candy Mint of Theta, the substance called the meth of crystal is an enormous source of energy, despite the toll it has taken upon her facial features and teeth. But she is hard at work on the couch.

She is busily compiling yet another digital record, even passing up the Boy Friend's offer to "take your lard ass over for a Rooty-Tootie Fresh 'n' Fruity" in order to diligently record all of the times that landlords have cast her into the streets.

You see, O Snuggle Bunny of Theta, on Earth in California, those who own domiciles can do something called "rent them". This involves the transference of funds, or money as the Californians refer to it, in exchange for the right to live in the said domicile. The Large-Jawed Woman has never actually grasped how this concept works, although it seems to mean that she is entitled to conduct chemical experiments in the kitchens of the domiciles, usually causing fires. She also uses them to store animals, mistreating them until legal agents are forced to intervene. These occasions are also being diligently digitally depicted! (Try saying that three times fast, O Harelip of Horus!)

These have not been easy times for the Large-Jawed Woman, as my reports have indicated. Last month we had to deal with the eye issue.

As you know, she has long had physical issues. For example, soon after birth:

Here the eyes are clearly not up to par. During her childhood, there was also an issue with breathing. She does it through the mouth most of the time, while here in California the preference is for those who do it through their nostrils (I know, California is a strange place. Think how happy the Large-Jawed Woman would be with other mouth breathers on the planet Appalachia IV!)

Anyway, things got a little out of hand recently.

So she has fallen behind on her vendetta against her imaginary enemies, and is making up for it this morning. They eye has returned to normal following treatment.

Your faithful minion,

Illuminati

Greetings, O Conduit of the Lubricants of the Nine Steps of LaMaze! It is I, your very, very tired minion, Illuminati.

Well, the Large-Jawed Woman calmed down, after ingesting a small snack.

Then she decided to go out for the evening.

The first outfit didn't seem flattering enough (her Elderly Friend just kept saying "more tits, toots!"). So she changed.

Then she fed the dogs. You can sort of tell the animals belong to the Large-Jawed Woman. You know what they say about humans and their pets, how after awhile they begin to resemble each other? If you look carefully, O Divine Afflatus, you will see what I mean.

But then the Boyfriend arrived home and told the Large-Jawed Woman that she "looked like a two-bit hooker in a four-bit neighborhood", a phrase I do not understand, but the Large-Jawed Woman retreated into the domicile and changed yet again.

By now Minion Wannabe Bruce was getting tired, so I relieved him for the night.

He just kept muttering this.

Off we go for a "night on the town". I am hiding in the back of the truck in the upholstered chair the Boyfriend keeps there for the Elderly Friend, who decided not to accompany them. The last thing I heard before sending this transmission was "Yeehaaaaah! Palmdale, lock up yer pets!"

Your faithful minion,

Illuminati

Hey there, O Guy that Illuminati Talks to ---

It's me, Minion Wannabe Bruce. Illuminati is too upset to report in but someone needs to let you know that the shit is gettin' REAL here, y'all! She is dancing up a storm!!! I'm just watchin' and watchin' cuz Illuminati says that's what we DO, but I gotta tell you, dude, it ain't easy!

OhmyThetanGodsSaveMeSaveMeSaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaveMeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbzEjFLkgjc

Also, and I am sorry to be so late with the news, this happened.

Minion Bruce swiped the second picture from the Elderly Guy's camera. It shows the Large Jawed Woman without makeup receiving the news from the hospital about her pregnancy.

Hail to Thee, O Semi-Autonomous Scooper of the Droppings of Thetan Wisdom,

The Large-Jawed Woman has seized control of her Elder Friend's cellular communication device and is beaming out messages.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD6kmIT-1Tc



Your faithful Minion was trapped under the couch during this filming. Nothing in Minion Academy prepared me for this outfit. Nothing. Four of my eyeballs have been permanently impaired. I will be filing for Minion's Compensation Benefits.

Greetings, O Mighty Shovel, from your exhausted but faithful Minion, Illuminati. It's not from the roller skating, although I did get pretty good at it. No, it is from the incessant shrieking of the Large-Jawed Woman. Allow me to explain. For weeks, no months as the Terr--- uh, Californians mark time's passage, the Large-Jawed Woman has been deluging the offices of a magazine called Playboy with scantily clad pictures of herself. I regret to say that a few of them were taken recently by her elderly friend with his cellphone, and since I have been beaming you pictures of her myself, well, you see the problem. At first the responses were cordial: "This is not suitable for our magazine, have you considered sending them to Fun With Rocks, which may be suitable for the kind of fetish you display in the picture" or "This is not suitable for our magazine, as we have pretty much exhausted the 'lay on a pier with an arched back and photoshopped bazongas, but you may want to consider Fisherman's Monthly or Field and Stream. Also, we are not sure that 'hating people in Texas' constitutes a 'pet peeve' that will speak to many of our readers. Thank you for the submission, though." Unfortunately, as I said, the Large-Jawed Woman persisted in her efforts to get in the 'centerfold', as the magazine calls it, and sent along a number of recent pictures of herself. Without clothing. And what happened? Last week Playboy announced it was ceasing the use of unclad female photos. Which seems a bit extreme, but I suppose they were desperate, because no matter what they said, the Large-Jawed Woman kept sending pictures!!! Despite emails with references to her "sag factor", "lack of cougar appeal", "lack of appeal, period" and "please stop or Hugh swears to God he will get a warrant", the Large-Jawed Woman would not cease and desist. I guess they felt they had no other choice over at the magazine.