The Woman In the Box
Several months ago, I watched this true crime special, about a young girl, I forget where from, because that is insignificant, who wanted to go to a relative's birthday party, but she did not drive; therefore, she got her thumb out, thinking it would be safe, and choosing, a husband and wife, team, to catch a ride with, believing she would be safe, getting a ride to the next town. Seven years later, raped, beaten, battered, sexually assaulted, hung, chained from the ceiling, forced to stand on books, for balance, with the fear of falling off, trapped, and put in a chamber, the husband built for her, under, he and his wife's bed, locked away, day after day, night after night, until the wife, and the young girl, now, a young woman, both got interested in the Bible and were allowed to go to church together, leading to the girl, now woman's escape. But, at the onset, the man had constructed this box, that was made of wood, large enough, for the girl's head, with a whole for her neck, and then shut over her entire face--without holes for her to see out of, locked in place with a latched metal lock, with a lock, and key, so she was unable to see, where they took her and could keep her totally in the dark, until, later, when she was released.
When I saw this, I was struck, by the symbolic similarities, between the head box, and being locked, under the marital bed of a husband and wife, for fucking 7 years, having to listen to them fuck all night and listen to the sick depravities, two people such as this, would participate in, seeing the wife, had earlier been her captor and now husband's, previous prisoner and sex slave, prior to marrying the man, later, picking this girl up on the road, that day to the birthday party. Experts, figured that the young woman, after 7 years, and not running, originally was a victim of the Stockholm Syndrome where the victim comes to identify with, her kidnappers, even being taken home to visit her family, acting like he was her boyfriend. Psychologist, thought that she, knew that, her very survival, even in the company of her family, depended, on treating this man, actually, even like a lover. In my particular situation, I was probably, after being poisoned, and taken psychologically, to places, I had never been in my life before, as far, as insecurity, vulnerability, susceptibility, and even, looking more and more, like an orchestrated, and prearranged meeting, to facilitate the steal of my son's music and allowing, Shelley, a crone, and later, if not earlier, lover of Brett's, with me suspecting, that Isaac, was Brett's son, not Chris Wanless' like, family had suspected. Thus the substitution, of Elliot, who Brett heard play, for Isaac, and God's Revolver, being subbed in for The Alamo, Frank, Interpol connections, to steal the epic western that few people would associate with Utah, better, cowboy state, home of the Texas Rangers, and cop hell, for Elliot, claiming the music was rooted in that state, rather than Utah! the true place of origin!
Hiding His Personal Life, To Further, His Professional Standing
I believe, it was Brett's personal life he wanted to hide, holding one wife captive under the bed of another--refusing to divorce me, nor sign the simplest form as proof of divorce, claiming, Kay, to be me, figuratively, doing every bit, as much damage, through cruel emotional punishment, even when not with him, as this man, did to this girl, with 7 years of shear hell, kept under the bed, as in my case, with Brett refusing to sign anything, nor let me go, holding me, so that Kay, could, use my worth, as an attorney, my name, resume, credentials, being anything but an average attorney, with Kay going into debt, at an alarming rate of $10,000 per month in her shitty law practice, as average as the day is long. I believe, Brett either knew Kay, and Shelley, and set this up, prior to meeting me, or, Shelley having lived in Logan, surely would have, either been in college classes with Brett back in the day, hooked up, since, neither of them have any morals, time, during their common stay, and lives, that intersected, through, the biology department, I would surmise, bringing in Professor Bruce Bugsby, for the pre-arranged dinner, after Brett had asked me, who I thought was a rival, or at least, in my same class of women, other than the fact, that I had already been fucked up, and went from being general counsel, for the Utah Medical Association, a professor of family law, owning my own, anger management company, and writing computer programs for the elderly, on the Internet, having also been, both staff attorney, for the Utah Division of Aging, and a family law professor, having also worked with the Governor's Counsel on Aging, and dealt with abuse and elder scams, at the Utah Attorney Generals Office . . . allegedly, given credit to Shelley, Kay, Rachel, Sue, Tiff or whoever in the fuck, this time? as with everything I did!
Now, I don't know, if Brett, was a common street thug, and serial killer, which he alluded to, having, when drunk, once talked about a friend, wink, who was drunk, and slit, his friend's throat, out in the front yard, during a teenage party, but, was let off the hook, because his mother, or some relative, worked at the sheriff's department, small town, Mo-ville. Brett's grandparents, owned, RSM or RMS Foods and Catering Business in Logan and were quite wealthy, and since Brett's parents, divorced when he was 2 years old, his grandparents, played a huge role in his life. He was still devastated, by the accidental death of his grandparents, allegedly hit by a car, after the opera, at the Eccles Theater one night. Or, he could be, an FBI agent, having seen, what looked like Brett, in a October TV special on cults, like the David Koresh, and the Branch Davidians, who were burned out, in a stand off with federal officers, in Waco, Texas, back in, what, the 90's, noticing him, due to the fact, that a man, who had, just previous to the special, by six months, had talked to me for hours, at the St. George Temple grounds, when, my work, helping, some local and statewide, Constitutional groups in Utah, plan a Utah Liberty Conference . . . intercepted over the Internet, after I had worked 12 fucking hours through the night, to have it stolen, right in front of my eyes, but, sounding like retired FBI agent, Byron Sage, got a copy, when, I, the writer, didn't get it . . . sounds like a familiar pattern for these fuckers, I do all the work, and it lands in the hands of some fucking fed, who then gives credit, to his bitch, and by this time, Brett and Kay, aka, ME, would have been together, after I left him! Payback is a bitch, let me tell you, married for, 18 months, going on 10 fucking years, through my proxy, KAY!
The Box is Symbolic of Trapping My Intellectual Properties
You know in all the years, that I worked on domestic violence, for the attorney generals office, writing the manual, while staff attorney, for the Utah Prosecution Council, Criminal Enforcement Division--nice titles for an FBI agent's wife, not to mention, the women, who took down the cops and prosecutors, with asset forfeiture, and saved the docs from Medicaid/Medicare investigations, pushing around the FBI, after poisoning me and telling me I was dying, taking me down to a fucking 5 year old mental level, but, having never, once, even until recently, considered myself a batter woman, other than by the statewide and nationwide, battering systems, cops, prosecutors and judges, more recently in the past 4 years, and, when I would do a presentation, which I did all the fucking time, not only on the manual, but prior to the manual, training doctors, cops, social workers and working with judges, I was often asked, given my passion for helping batter women, if I had been abused, myself, as I would always laugh, and say, no, I am more likely to be the batterer, than the abused . . . kind of like I am now, bullying these sorry saps, and fuckers around; however, in the last, I would say, two months, or less, each morning when I put on my make up, eye shadow, to be more specific, almost without exception, after I get my whole face decked out, like magic or tragic, either, some of the shadow, falls onto my face, making it look like I have a black eye.
The Usual Suspects, Abusive Husbands, and Father! Defending the Indefensible!
The very strange thing is, that even, like today, when I am very careful, to make sure that all the darker, color, is not going to fall on my face, making the mark, inevitably, some, seems to come out of fucking, nowhere, to make the dark, and look of a bruised or black eye, pissing the shit out of me! I do my eye's evenly, but, it is always the same eye, and no matter how careful, I am, that seems to happen, where I have to put make-up, over that spot, much like a abused and battered woman, would do, to cover a black eye, with God, my Intel, guy, informing me, over and over again, that, I was, and continue to be a batter woman, with former, husbands, and lovers, husbands, basically, beating the shit out of me, never touching me, since I have never, ever, been physically hit. But, as many victims of abuse, have told me, the emotional and psychological scars are worse than the physical abuse, of laying hands on you, leaving bruises and marks, or broken bones, that, eventually will heal. The psychological and emotional wounds, are the hardest to detect, and take the longest to heal, especially, the way they were administered, forcing me underground, under the martial bed, using my marriage, my name, my family to further the abuse, and keep me under the bed, so to say, preferring Kay Baby, since she is no threat to the family, my father and his other more average daughters . . . Kay can take on the traits and characteristics, because she is an attorney, and probably spent more time with me, in junior high and high school, than any of my family members, given, drill team, debate and working together!
However, emotional, psychological, threats, to family members, to myself personally, through, cops, following me, tracking me, chasing me, trying to intimidate me, and I would guess at the direction of, either and ex-husband, Brett or Frank, or through, Shelley, who claims to be me, or my father, who did, fucking beat the shit out of me and still is trying to make me cry, bring me under his control, or trying to make me submit to this family shit, like, a, standing aside and letting the bitch squad of fraud broads, made up of sisters, and his other daughters, more compliant and mailable daughters, and allow, them, as in the case of Jeb Bush, the right to rise, from behind my shadow, deciding that I have had too much of the limelight over the years, and they, should, with Kay, be allowed to divide up my life and share the glory, in addition to sharing the kids and grand kids, because, neither Kay, nor Brett were good parents and I would guess are embarrassed of the children, they had to do with, so they want to claim, mine, that I took care of, and now ingratiate themselves, and demonizing me, or making offers they can't refuse, and doing all in their powers to alienate parental affection, where there was none, before! It is as if, bullying me out of my homes, my law practice, taking my vehicles and chasing me for fucking 4 years, to hide the fact, that, it is I, not Brett's lover, lay, mistress, whore, who did, cases, and everything before that, it is that, woman, he keeps under the bed, refusing, to let me surface, until, I got, the insight, on psychopaths, and their nature, seeing exactly what he did, the motives, and serving only himself . . . had, Kay been the one, with the resume, and I was the way, I was prior to the feds, taking it to me, the roles would be reversed! Ego, arrogance, pride, status, and name . . . name brand wife, un-known wife, wearing the mask!
The Song Playing--I Fooled Around and Fell in Love
I am not exactly sure, which way this thing goes, if he was with Kay first, and he fooled around with me, or if he was with me, and fooled around with Kay, which did happen, then, have the fucking balls, as a man, to take the whole person, loser, law practice, debt, name, resume, fucking lazy, spoiled kids, and man up, loving her . . . not, loving what I did, and loving her looks, or sex, or whatever the fuck you like in the lollipop, chick, with a boy's body and boobs, fake, I am sure! The breast men, real or fake, all I know, are fake! LOL! Except me, and I am are real as my resume, and they are as fake, as their fucking boobs! You see, I have no problem with Brett meeting Kay, even messing around with her, and loving her, ditching my ass, or me ditching him, as I did, and cutting our losses, divorcing, giving up, what both of us, contributed to the marriage the union, but, to get used to the credibility, I brought, the kids, I brought, to the marriage, and turn, around, and say, I am keeping this, and giving ALL this to Kay, or someone else, always, the women, closest to me! Song on: Your a hard habit to break . . . really, so, a why didn't you work with me?
I feel the same with Frank, aka, Allan, Kennedy, if they want, Rachel, or Shelley, or whomever, then they get their whole fucking package, their careers, their debts, their money, their kids, their grand kids, etc., you don't, even as federal agents, get my, famous, name in the cop world, and say, well, I like your background, better, therefore, I am going to pick and chose, her face, her tits, her looks, but I am keeping everything, that I would have had with you, and then, hold you down, lie, tell shit, make up stories, trash me, try to frame me, have me arrested, jailed, and steal, my cases, etc. NO, you made your bed, cheating or not, and you get the bitch you were in heat with! I have never, forced someone, resisted, a man, finding, someone he like better, and letting him go, in fact, I felt that Brett went better than I did with Kay, seeing I WAS FUCKING DYING, or so I thought at the time and that is beside the point, she was into mountain biking, roller blades, and whatever, and I thought Brett deserved to have someone that was not dying. Had, I at the time, had any idea, that I would be fighting for MY IDENTITY AND CREDENTIALS, AND LEAST OF WHICH, THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE TO FIGHT FOR MY OWN FAMILY . . . I would have just shot the shit out of your sorry loser ass then! God! Jesus, this is, plain and simply, just, unfathomable, that any would even consider, doing what these fucks, did, let alone, TRY TO KILL ME, OVER AND OVER, AND OVER AGAIN! Fucking amazing, and getting supported by fucking EVERYONE? GOD!
Oh, They are Gods! No, They are Gods, Being ME!
Right now, these men, husbands, lovers, and acquaintences, are more than free, to have at it, with the bitches, you can fuck'em, show them off, dress them up like Barbies, prance their asses and parade them, as THEMSELVES, with THEIR REAL NAMES, and I have fucking NO PROBLEM WITH THAT, but claiming they are the ones, writing this blog, or their kids were the ones in the military, or the rock stars, and rap stars, or the smart kids, or that my grand kids are their's because, they were to fucking busy taking my things, to take care of their own, or to claim their own shitty kids, while they were marketing MY LIFE, to BECOME GODS, where there are none and to be none before GOD, dumb asses, you are self making losers, using my name, and my life, my stories, and want to claim MY CHILDREN, as yours. Like I said, it is amazing, that, these alleged, strangers to me, at the time they meet me, magically, seem to find, my friends and sisters? Doesn't that seem a bit strange? Never a woman, that I don't know?
Seriously, like there are not, bright, intelligent, attorneys, in the U.S. Department of Justice, states attorneys general offices, or in local district and county attorneys offices? No, these men, had to have the best resume, and if I didn't want them, they took what they wanted from the relationship, or the bragging rights to me, and then, beat the shit out of me, to cover the knock off brand names, or no names, attorneys and all! I mean, even if you took, Kay, hooked her up, on her fucking name, under her cases, I would have NO PROBLEMO . . . but, continually, holding me HOSTAGE under your fucking bed, is completely insane, and you fuckers, have too weak an ego, and need to change . . . my name is famous, and even more so now, DEAL WITH IT! but it, my name is not like a franchise you can buy, is not up for sale, rent, use, on loan; I'm not a slave, nor was there any permission given, no contract, no verbal or non-verbal agreement or contract, to allow, these bitches to be me . . . as Sky Fall, 007 is playing!
You should love these women, for what they do, for who they are, for what they can do, personally and respectably for you and you for them, not be in love with what I do, and retain my life, while in their bodies, GROW THE FUCK UP . . . beautiful losers . . . you don't get to have it all! I am not into this, you are me, and I am you, bull shit, ECK fuckin' shit, take it and shove it up your sorry, lazy asses! I am, NOT, your fucking polygamist wife, your indentured servant, and YOU DON'T FUCKING OWN ME, nor rights to my family, even if I COST THE FUCKING GOVERNMENT A FORTUNE! which, I am glad I did, and if I were to do it all over again, I would do it exactly the same way! The law is the law, is the law, so FUCK YOU! And you, sirs, are insects, worth me squashing under the sole of my shoes!
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