TETELESTAI | 1-800 Numbers
This is where the 800#'s will be listed which will be included in the TETELESTAI post once published.
If there are no 800#'s, the TETELESTAI will still be published once given permission as it contains useful information prior to redeeming/exchanging your currencies.
(Note: The TETELESTAI post is the official "Go" for redemption/exchange.)
Guest Posting & Responding Now Available
Dinar Chronicles is now allowing viewers to guest post and respond to articles. If you wish to respond or speak your mind and write a post/article or about the current situation relating to Iraq, the RV, the GCR and so on. You may now send in an entry.
All you need to do is send your entry to UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com with these following rules.
The subject line of your email should be: "Entry | (Title of your post) | Dinar Chronicles"
- Proper grammar
- Solely write intel, rumors, news, thoughts, messages regarding Dinarland, Iraq, the RV, the GCR, NESARA/GESARA, the Republic, Spirituality, Ascension and anything that is relating
- Your signature/name/username at the end (If you wish to remain anonymous then you don't need to provide one.)
If you have any questions or wish to communicate with us then please give us an email at UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com
Send your entry and speak out today!
Received via email at 2:00 AM EST for publication. ~ Dinar Chronicles The RV saga rages on like a runaway locomotive. And the latest ne...
Friday, October 14, 2016
10/14/2016 09:14:00 AM Music
Gracias, Hondo Chavez. Mucho gusto.
Señor, señor, do you know where we’re headin’?
Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?
Seems like I been down this way before
Is there any truth in that, señor?
Señor, señor, do you know where she is hidin’?
How long are we gonna be ridin’?
How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?
Will there be any comfort there, señor?
There’s a wicked wind still blowin’ on that upper deck
There’s an iron cross still hangin' down from around her neck
There’s a marchin’ band still playin’ in that vacant lot
Where she held me in her arms one time and said, “Forget me not”
Señor, señor, I can see that painted wagon
I can smell the tail of the dragon
Can’t stand the suspense anymore
Can you tell me who to contact here, señor?
Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled
Was that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field
A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring
Said, “Son, this ain’t a dream no more, it’s the real thing”
Señor, señor, you know their hearts are hard as leather
Give me a minute, let me get it together
I just gotta pick myself up off the floor
I’m ready when you are, señor
Señor, señor, let’s disconnect these cables
Overturn these tables
This place don’t make sense to me no more
Can you tell me what we’re waiting for, señor?
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