Breakfast of 5 Polish Sausage, in a Pan of Meat--Trouble
To have these great escapes make sense, I have to set the context of the situation. Prior to January 2012, I had never had a warrant, never been in any trouble with the law, still don't have a parking ticket, speeding or driving infraction . . . I don't drink, don't drug, don't break the law, register my, then, truck, licensed and insured, pay my bills, take care of my taxes, basically, a lack luster, life, just working and taking care of business . . . that was, until, I had three cases up on appeal, and one major securities case going to the United States Supreme Court, another multi-million dollar lawsuit, working its way through the United States Federal Court System, with a settlement conference being requested by all parties, both plaintiffs and defendants. I had $700 million dollars worth of cases, mainly against government agencies, from the Department of Justice, Homeland Security, ICE or Immigration and Customs Enforcement, state of Utah, state of Nevada, National Guard and Iron County Sheriffs, Iron County--County Attorney, Cops, Division of Child and Family Services, a judge, etc., 21 named defendants, in a huge case for law enforcement and supporting systems.
Note: the NSA has already, along with shutting down the number of hits, just on my double site, under the same name--so not cleaver--let alone on the 6 or so other search engines, facebook, twitter, and other sources of social media, they have, once again, like half-way through my blog yesterday, shut off spell check . . . oh, well, their bad! By the looks of it, they have tried to steal the entire blog, buried, or another name, or this is just too damn painful for the plains mistaken for stars! LOL! Who knows where this will go, into what deep dark recess of the web, secret accounts, and whatever, they couldn't fucking write one of these blogs, in 10 billion light years! To bad, so sad, your bad! This blog is huge and brings in a shit load of hits, whether you or I see them or not, about 1.5 million, about every 45 seconds, on just one site, times all the seconds in a day, during a 24 hour period, they are not fooling me, they divide and try to conquer, I have seen the 155 million, the 95 million, the 65 million, at times in about 84 seconds . . . I busted the bandwidth last week, so I am sure that yesterday's did it again! LOL!
Knew I Would Pay for the Warden . . . Not that He is the Guilty!
So, Saturday, after the exchange with Mary, basically calling me a liar, with her basing her facts, on the lie, Shelley, I am not one to suffer in silence, so I always, always, always, fucking kick back! These pansy ass bullies, hate it, they hate me, they hate, that they are liars, and I am not intimidated, threatened, or in fear, of what the mafia, bikers, cops, judges, prosecutors, the feds, the Mormon Church, alienation from my family? None of it bothers me in the slightest, and they can recruit, bribe, hire teams of people, and I don't give a rat's ass, they will not win, in this world or the next! So, fuck your sorry asses, for trying! I don't spend sleepless nights, that I am sure you do, and my revenge is a perfectly fun, life, great kids, cool grand kids, in spite of you infiltrating my family with your trash.
So here we go, I trashed the warden at the Billings Women's Prison, and told that he had molested his sister, older sister I might add, until she was sold to a military guy at 15, after she ran away from a youth detention school, of some sort, and landed with her aunt, whom she had called Mom, since her mother, abandoned her and her brother, the warden, and went back to join the IRA, leaving the two children with a sick father, here in Butte. Now, to speculate, given the time and effort to take me down, since my swearing into the U.S. Supreme Court, and I have the certificate, safely deposited with a client, who probably doesn't even know they have it, buried away in the hordes of stuff they have . . . I like to leave evidence of my existence, due to the fact that they have tried to erase me from the fucking planet, since they poisoned me for being too much for local, state, and national cops to handle, nothings changed much in the last 20 years, so fuck off!
Joyfully, Watching the Evolution of a Rock God . . . My Son, Elliot . . . Connecting the Blog to the Son and God's Revolver! IP--#4, Library! Which is My God-Damn Right to Do, I Gave Birth to Both!
This is a total raging blind spot for all these fuckers who have lived off my son, me, and my families fortunes, while claiming to be their own, Plains Mistaken for Stars . . . and that was not by accident! As I had the earphones on, and was rocking out at the library, little Ukrainian/Italian friend and mission person, Nick, was there with me, he always sits at computer #1, if you want to validate the day's computer use. But, I showed him my blog, he said, he is always shocked at how fast I type, faster than most people read, and he wants me to help him set up a blog. I also showed him, God's Revolver and Maraloka videos of Elliot, my son, and bass guitarist. So this kids is seeing, first hand, what this fellow person at the mission is all about, and he has heard some of my stories, learned about my cases, and is generally fascinated with my fun life. So, he is a prime target to hit, bribe, start the spin cycle of poison in the troops, and start with the paid staff, of my enemies, who would have everyone believe that all my work is theirs, and all my family is really their family.
My hell, fucking Kay, has brown shit eyes, is short, has a pug dog nose, and the first thing she said to me, after not seeing her for 10 years, was, after grabbing her boobs, these are real . . . as if I give a flying leap through a fucking rolling doughnut, about her dumb ass boobs, men might, whatever! This is a baby everyone, wants, and Brett and Kay, aka, the second, Shelley was the first with the help of the Utah Attorney Generals Office, years ago, back in the day, when they cleared her of securities fraud, and my father, for ratting our her ex-husband and ex-boss, mafia boss, who most likely sent some goons, to force her into seeing the money, source of my family, because the CIA, generally lets the drug cartels and the mafia operate, for a cut, just like old school mob. I have golden fingers and so does my bass guitarist son, Elliot . . . they have stubs, mutilated fists, and stupid minds. Shelley has been studying my style, my wit, my law, the constitution, my cases, my blog, my water compacts, my analysis, my legislation, just as her fucking son, Isaac and henchman, Jesse, whom is suppose to be dead, hopefully, he is, but that is not how this crowd rolls! DNA testing can solve this dumb ass, not mystery in about two seconds flat, so let's go there . . . oh, hell no, we took a billion dollars from you, before Elliot, even knew his music was being pirated!
(Old School) Parallax . . . Dialogues in Limbo . . . Indian Rock Star Drummer!
Elliot, started a band called Parallax, with Blake Donner, one of his brother's friends, his music lesson buddy, Brandon, and his drummer, Rick, and Native American, adopted by a Mormon family in the Provo, Utah area. At the time of Blake's murder, Elliot, said he had been playing with Blake for about 7 years, when the Provo Death Cave incident took place, and they had been kicking out CDs, it seemed, every other month, but I am sure it was not that way. In 1998, I, the real, the one and only, JoAnn S. Secrist, had been working at the Attorney Generals Office, the Utah Division of Aging, and moving into working with the Utah Medical Association, while Elliot and band, were doing their thing, with me just learning off and on, about the music. But, prior to that time, Elliot, Isaac, and Trevor, Troy, or one of the five brothers from Midway, had a band called, Purification, so, Elliot and Isaac, cousins, started at the same time, but Isaac was as lazy as his mother . . . Isaac had talent, Shelley was smart enough to go to law school, but both expect something for nothing, and Shelley now had in roads with the AG's Office, and started to help with setting up the Children's Justice Center in Logan, where she hooked up with BACA, or Bikers Against Child Abuse . . . connect that to the bounty hunter bikers, Mike, Alan aka Frank!
Note this, for the first three years, to facilitate Elliot and Isaac's growing music interest, I would drive from Salt Lake to Provo, then to Midway, and up to Logan, so the three could get together and practice their art. Never once did Shelley, ever, drive the three, Don, allegedly Isaac's dad, would sometimes, meet me at the duck pond at Weber State College to exchange kids, and I would make the trek, from there up to Midway, then to Provo, and back to Salt Lake . . . Elliot was living with his father in Provo. My father bitched and moaned about all the time I was spending driving the young rockers around, the time, the gas, the travel. I didn't mind, in fact, I was glad to do, it and was happy he was interested in guitar, plus I paid for his lessons, for as long as I can remember, he still takes them, but as of the poisoning date, all that stopped. But Jerry Owens is a key to the music theft, Isaac, had come to live with us in Midway, for a short time, while Zeke, or Richard Secrist, Elliot's real dad, not that fucking Brett, and not that fucking Kay, they both fucked up their kids, they don't get to claim mine! Jerry and Shelley, I think may have concocted the plan, even before Kay and Brett were recruited. Jerry is as vindictive and Shelley, like is attracted to like. Brett got involved when my boys came and visited me and Brett. I believe Blake, was killed, Shelley told me about it, while smoking a big old ass cigar, while in her home, the fish bowl, that used to be owned by an FBI agent, back in the days of Baby Face Nelson. Elliot was devastated . . . 7 years of work, gone up in smoke, and the tragedy hit, not only from a musical perspective, but to both of my sons as a personal friend.
I met Brett Stewart/Stuart, don't know which, probably the opposite of what I was told, he used Stuart, while all his relatives in Wellsville, were Stewarts, or so it seemed. I believe Shelley and Brett knew each other, and our meeting was a set up. I think the band, Parallax, using Blake's death to sensationalize the music, good looking, idolized, tons of groupies, especially with young guys, totally male, head slamming music, but I believe, he was killed, to market the music, Isacc was jealous then, Elliot continued on without him, and mama bear, Shelley, already took me out, why not take Elliot out too, steal the music make the money. I found, just Saturday, a great tribute to Blake Donner, life is a script, rip it up! Check it out on YouTube! I cried, such talent, such good looks, such love for him. Kurt Cobain had just died if I recall, and this might have given the pirates, liars, plains mistaken for stars, the idea . . . plus, Shelley was real into the Soprano TV show, Riches, and serial killers.
I WONDER HOW MANY INDIAN ROCK STARS THERE ARE? RICK, RARE INDEED!
I really don't think I met Rick, maybe, even once, but as I look back at the band, he was one hell of a drummer, slamming and banging those drums, way cool! The heavy metal, the grunge bands, think you are selling out to play large venues, and I am sure that played into the plans, nobody, had much seen the band, Parallax, other than a limited, arena of cottage and backyard venues, so they were fresh territory, in an underground metal population of musicians, who were taking on the market, and playing small, but getting big time, as they were. The band toured the Seattle, Portland, and west coast, and were extremely popular in Provo, Logan, and some Utah venues, plus BYU crowd. Anyway, I have a family of Native Americans, living at the rescue mission right now, and I bet they would be thrilled, as many Indians in this state, to see their own kin, so to say, rocking it, and would have gone big time, had the four, young adults, not been blocked from getting out of the Provo, Death Cave.
Rick, as I understand it from Elliot, was true to his, Mormon adoptive family roots, and went on a mission, and got married, after Blake died, ending the band's 7 year run. They were still hot, in 2005, had just performed, the very night, which left, Blake and friends, hyped up, after the concert in Provo, even asking my two sons to join, him and several others, in a 3 a.m. swim, in the cave waters, never coming out, or being seen alive again. I do, believe, in my heart of hearts, that my son's were intended to be among the dead, found in the cave. As luck would have it, they both declined the offer, they had taken many times, and went home to bed. Elliot is the one, who led the police to the cave, and he was stopped, threatened, and told he would be arrested, as he screamed and cried on the outside, knowing that there was plenty of time, to see if they were still alive. I believe the kid from Reno, who didn't go in the cave that night, blocked the exit, leaving the girl in the tunnel, no room to turn around, and blocked the other three in the cave, until it was too late. 80 friends a fans, watched and waited 6 fucking hours, before the bodies were pulled out . . . I think the cops and firefighters, were making sure the youth were dead, before, they allowed anyone to go in. Beyond a tragedy . . . I still cry, 10 years later. I am sure my sons do too. 1980 to 2005.
Brett Picked Me Up, At Albertsons Food Store, Right After That!
I believe, that Shelley and Brett colluded, Shelley told me, with no warning much, that she had to be out of the house, she told me about Blake, just shortly before, because, Dave Yeman, wanted to sell the house. Brett picked me up, that day, I was to find an apartment. Hell, I was dying, so, a cute guy, was a nice option to go out with. I went to his house, and we were married, non-solumnized, two weeks later, as planned. Brett told me, my kids were an asset, when I hadn't told him anything about them, going to die, didn't want them to suffer. But, both my boys, came to visit, during the year and a half we were together. Brett heard Elliot play the guitar. And isn't it funny, that three years after, I left him, around 2006 or 2007, Brett is seen at a God's Revolver Concert, ABG . . . the mohawk, standing out like a sore thumb! The first God's Revolver CD came out, right after I left Brett, and moved in with Shelley. Isaac was driving the car, with me, Elliot, and my son without a name in the back, we played the CD, Little Black Horse Where Are You Going With Your Dead Rider . . . holy shit, this is so, good, my thoughts went to, a young Doors sound, what the hell! I made them play it again, and couldn't believe my ears, so good, so fresh, so creative, and such a change from the head banging of the passed.
I am not sure exactly when Maraloka, started, and what time frame, but Isaac, was definitely the star of that band, for a few songs, he was lead singer. Isaac, then disappears, for two years . . . Plains or Planes Mistaken for Stars? Music stolen, jealous sister, jealous cousin, opportunity, motive, and reason, cops connection. I was taken out of the picture, and so was Elliot's dad, and anyone who could have protected them. Hard Rock Band of 2008, three worldwide music interviews, a nationwide tour, all sabatogued . . . for the plains! Kay Burningham comes in the picture at this time too, just before I leave Brett. Elliot too good to let slip, Isaac, there to steal the show, the conspiracy starts. At the start of Maraloka, song one, Isaac is singing . . . God's Revolver is going too. He makes a telling statement that symbolizes, what was going on at Shelley's house, right after I left Brett . . . We Are Building a Cage with Credit Cards . . . Shelley, Jesse, Tiffany, his wife, were applying for every credit card on the planet, most likely on my credit, which had been perfect, with Shelley having my Social Security Card, two of them, my original and a new typed, but not signed one, and my driver's license, sent to her by my father, Richard Glenn Southwick . . . and the rest is history, Frank of InterPol was involved and the Mormon network, Church, extended family, and infiltrators. I believe Brett was doing Shelley and Kay at the time, I left him, and he was leaving signs of that around Shelley's house, the seeds of the Bandits were born, along with a shit load of bank accounts, as the money rolled in . . .
Evolution of a Rock God . . . Isaac Said, Elliot is a God--He Knew; He Was Him! Worldwide Fame! Just Not Worldwide Recognition, Wrong Face!
Any little rockers out there, Elliot didn't become that good overnight. Watch the evolution, starting with (Old School) Parallax, God's Revolver, Maraloka, and watch for his new band! Elliot has never had a guitar out of his hand, since the days I bought the red electric guitar, he is playing, in the Parallax videos! I see the stickers on Rick's drums, and Elliot's guitar, and want you to fucking stick the bitch, Shelley and her bastard son, who were, plains mistaken for stars, all over the world, maybe under the band name, of Remember the Alamo . . . Texas version of God's Revolver. Elliot and his band, the real stars, may not have played the big concert arenas, traveled, but they are famous, on the web or on YouTube, these people need to have the death penalty, and that would be too good for them! Believe me, this just set the model for the theft of my cases, my water compact, my cases, my blog, and whatever they want to steal . . . now, I can bring to life, real time . . . all connected!
What Elliot did for music, I did for the law, and blogging, something new, refreshing, creative and different. The Plains are boring, average, and stale. Mary accused me of basically lying, but she is listening or being paid by the plains, the average, the jealous, the fakes. She had to have known, after talking to me for just a short while, that I was the real attorney, the real person, and myself. But, the money flows from Shelley's or Kay's, or Brett's, or Rachel's, or Daddy Dearest's hands, but not mine, so it is easy to dismiss the real, and buy onto the fake asses, the plains, and average as the day is long. I will agree to any great write out, clit out, and exposure, DNA, whatever, and you will see, I am sitting her, at the Butte Mall, on computer, #1, at 1:00 p.m., writing this blog, that I am sure, they will try to steal . . . Move, Hero 6, with six women, claiming to be me. But they have an army, I never once gave them permission, never allowed them to represent me, and resent them tarnishing my good name, with their inferior bull shit, lies, thefts, frauds.
Oh, and by the way, Ryan, the librarian, who helped me, in like fashion, with Mary and Bobby, was also bribed. After I wrote the first Butte blog, I wrote him a note, actually on the paper he gave me . . . I guess, pulling something off the internet, which is all Shelley, Kay, Rachel and girls could do, gives them license to say, that Ryan did it, or he has the right to say who was sitting at the computer, in the way they roll, he was paid off, and I have not seen him, since the day after I wrote the first blog . . . where the hell is he, and how did he afford to quit? These guys are as cleaver as ABC, meet A, bribe A, meet B, bribe B, meet C and so forth and so on . . . and nobody wonders how they get everyone to lie? Bribery is a crime, both offering it and taking it. Now, I can proceed . . .
Sunday, Five Wieners in a Pan!
Like I said, God is my Intel man, and he tried to inform me through, either symbols, signs, messages of written form, evidence, actions, or whatever, what the hell is going on, warning me of past, present and current danger. When I walked up to get my food, there were just 5 Polish sausages and the rest of the meat was roast. I looked in the pan, and was shocked, clearly getting the message, that my blog the day before had fried five big dicks . . . (1) the wardens; (2) Bobby's; (3) Mary's--she thinks she is hot tough shit and has a dick, corrections chick; (4) James . . . the power of love, softened since yesterday; and (5) Guy, the other member of the bounty hunters, totally changed, 180 degrees from the first time I met, and has been cold ever since, and a key player, in the great escapes, actually showed up here, while I was typing . . . intimidate, NA! So, I have a red flag, right off the bat, Sunday morning. James says he is leaving, when I said, you have to do what you have to do, he changed his mind, and he is still there, at the mission. I notice James hanging around, and helping Guy, I see the book, The Summons . . . and book it to the bus terminal!
While I am at the bus terminal, several members of the Butte Rescue Mission, trip in and out of the bathrooms, or do a walk through of the terminal, or walk by. I am pretty intuitive and it hits me, they are scouting me out . . . the problem with missions, shelters, and whatever, is you have a ton of spies, who know who you are, and are more than willing, either due to their own charges, or just money, or a cut of the EBT money, that some magical foundation puts on their food stamps card, the money laundering scheme, all get paid, great! I drift off to sleep, and some guy, comes and wakes me up, asking about some chick, he put on the bus in Portland, with some beer, and had I seen her? He said, you got on in Portland, didn't you . . . trying to figure out if I am me, totally struck me as screwball attempt, and he got nothing, not information of where I was going, and what I was doing, but he gave me a heads up, that something was up . . . why wouldn't he ask the guys who are awake? There were about 20 people, he could have asked, but didn't. Time to book it out of the terminal, something feels terminal in what could happen, ditch.
Guy & James, Chasing the Guitar Thieves, Nick . . . What Did You Say to Me?
I go back to the mission for dinner, James and Nick, show up, a bit late. As Nick walks in, I said, did you go with Guy and James . . . he gives me a very slight, nod, not as good at lying. I didn't think much of it, until I asked James if he had taken Nick with him and Guy. NO. Well he told me, he went with you, and the evidence, of both of your arrival would, I am thinking this, indicate, that you were together. I am taken back by lies, because there are too many in this game of steal the ID. Nick, just the night before, is sitting across from me and James, making hearts, signing that we should hold hands, and stupid stuff, but very Nick. After getting back from the boys excursion, really, chasing the guitar thieves . . . or looking in, symbolically, Rocker, for me? Allegedly, two drifters parked their asses here for a few days, and allegedly, Guy lent them, his guitar . . . sounds fishy to me, especially with what happens next with Nick.
I asked Nick, if he wouldn't go get me a drink of orange punch. This kid has stuck like glue to me, all week, buying me bus tickets, and laughing, doing dishes together and going to the library, etc. He could not get enough of me, totally the mover in the relationship. Nick is mothered by about 5 women. Mary seemed jealous, what about the others? So, Nick, very uncharacteristically, now doing get me wrong, he can be a smart ass, but generally, after he flips you off, he does what you ask, not this time. He said, get it yourself, you are fat and lazy . . . what did you just say to me? We both just dropped it, but the poison spin control is starting here too, even with Mary and Bobby gone, all the same biker gang? Something is up. All morning, James had seen me, stepping in to fill the gaps, in the dish crew, with the breakfast guy, leaving the kitchen a total mess, and Brook, cooking up a storm of chili for the crew. I very happily, jumped right in and cleaned the kitchen spotlessly, without a word of complaint. And Nick and I, had fun the night before, and I made him, do a great job, and told him, look buddy, if we are putting our names on this work, it is going to look good and be clean. So?????????????????
James was having to compete with Nick for my time, so one night, he waltzes in, James, as me and Nick are sitting eating and laughing, after a day on the bus, and going to the library, and he walks in grabs Nick, kisses his neck, and gives him a big hug! To both Nick's surprise and mine. Is he competing, with me for Nick, trying to make me jealous, it was working! LOL! But totally out of character, and not expected. The one draw back of not smoking, is all the real deals, schemes, talking and colluding gets done in the smoke shack, and I am the only one I know, who doesn't smoke! So, and outsider, right off the git-go. They say, when you get the most angry, is when someone accuses you, of the absolute opposite of what you really are, or see yourself as! Of the two, I trusted Nick, that he had been taken on a ride to Rocker, in search of me, and had been filled with shit, all the way by the two bounty hunters, who needed to win the little guy over, to get me isolated enough to have at me, with no allies, Mary and Bobby had been friends, as they all are, and one by one, they pick them off! Patterns, patterns, patterns, I was the hit of the party for a few days, but the control claws start to work, envy, jealousy, competition, professional jealousy and turf issues start, when I never compete for any of them! Needless to say, that was probably a cliff hanger, and I walked my way out of it. Slid right out under Jame's nose, and down the road to safety.
Hell, Hath No Fury, Like A Woman's Wrath!
I am cold, smart, and calculating in my revenge. Remember the two hotties, the young guys, who asked me if I thought that Chris was hot . . . going to get James back, you want to fill Nick's brain with bull shit, yeah, I admit, I am overweight, no secret, but, fucking lazy, oh, hell, NO! It is pay back time. James generally, stands outside the door, and when I am seated, he looks were I am sitting and general joins me . . . he didn't this morning, must have read my blog! LOL! Very nice last night, made me move up and sit by him, we shared the scriptures, and it was very nice, cozy and felt good. But I was sure that he had not read the blog! Going back to Monday and the young bucks, I am going to use, to get even with him . . . you may not think this fat chick is hot, but two guys, half your age and mine, have or seem to have a little different take on things, or at least, think I am hot enough, to see if I think they are! LOL! And they are . . . Chris has not been seen since! LOL! Not chasing you dude! LOL! Coz, tried to imply that I was after him, when I said, so did you get your buddy to acknowledge that he was hot? He implied that I was trying to get Chris? I said, look, you asked me if I thought he was hot, and I said yes, that is it!
I went on to tell a joke about some hot young stud that hit on me on the Amtrak, last year, and he acted a bit pissed, and said, well, everyone has heard the response the guy said, when he tried to get me to have sex downstairs in the lower deck. But, I was sitting between, James and him, and it was perfect timing, and showed, that his little lazy and fat, goes about as far as saying that I am stupid, don't believe it. You don't erase, 60 years of feed back, and make me think different of myself. I had a government asshole, CIA dick, I dropped, like a hot potato, in Missoula, last summer, same M.O., womanizer, cad, hit on me, then I canned his ass, for doing the same lame ass sort of shit that James is trying . . . he happened to grab me and kiss me one night, then he proceeded to try to tell me that I was not a good kisser, I am the best, and 59 years at the time, men, men and more men, some old fucking fart, is not going to change me, one iota! LOL! He just couldn't take rejection. James just sat there too . . . silent. Payback is a bitch! But I enjoyed it . . . you must think I am more into you, than I am! LOL! I have built my reputation, ball breaker, black widow, castorater of men, all on the backs of men, who underestimate, even my sex appeal! LOL!
The battle lines are heating up. LOL! I split, right after that and go to the library, but that was my second trip to the library . . . this is the fun part, the who is tracking who part?
Monday Morning, I Am Waiting for Breakfast, James Comes in an Leaves--Dwayne, Comes to the Kitchen Window, Checks to See if I am There . . . On the Phone!
Okay, so the bounty hunters are pissed that they didn't get me as planned on Sunday. And it looks like another sting op, Monday. I eat my oranges, bag breakfast, pack up and head out in the dark of the night, for safer ground, something it up this morning, not going to stick around to find out what. LOL! I book it about a mile, and it is warm, a nice morning. But, I notice this painted sign on a vehicle, go by several times, both ways, Yates . . . nothing to do with the business, everything to do with symbolism and messages! My brain in like the federal tax code, and me and God, my Intel, who knows the code, work together, he tried to warn me, and I try to decipher. "Y" stands for "you", so "you" ates . . . or You Hates! I know it sounds bizarre to you, and newcomer, but work with God, he communicates through whatever means he can, to save, not only your soul, but you, your physical body, from wrong doing by others, which is the case here . . . they are criminal, I am totally within my constitutional rights to do what I have done, probably framed for something, or they are swapping me for the biker bitches, and I am in causing them grief! and I love it!
I get about half way, and ditch my coat, which is still there today, proof, I am whom I said I am. If I could trust the Butte PD, I would tell them to pick it up as proof, that I am who I say I am, and the one writing this blog, and the mother of Elliot, the real rock star, and being followed by the mob, with enemies, colluding against me again, and I am the only law abiding one of the crew! I hit, close to the mall, and due to leaving before light, I find that it is just before 9, and I don't think the library in the mall opens, until 10 a.m. I remember that I have $1.52 on my Walmart money card. Now, Shelley drinks coffee, I drink Diet Coke, so it is a problem, when I am new in a place, because, this is when I am at the most risk, and they want me dead or at least locked up for the rest of eternity, thus bounty hunters! I tell the counter-girl, that I think I should have plenty of money to get the $1 drink. I run the card, it says, Approved, on my machine, but partially, approved on hers? She said, you will have to pay, 52 cents. I didn't have it. I was going to leave and she said, it's on me, I will cover it with my tips . . . but, I should have had enough, I have taken it down to 7 cents! The block, proof, they are fucking with me 24/7, covering Shelleys, fucking old ass! LOL! She fits these dudes! LOL! I am too young for them!
Guy, Who Yates Me, Is Looking For Me . . . While I Am Watching from McDonald's Window, Laughing! Ha, Ha, Ha!
I am sure, when I didn't show up for breakfast, they figured, that I took off, the chase was on, and foiled again! Cops were probably coming to serve me with the Information, I taunted them with in the blog the day before, and they are going to take me down, rather than arrest the fucking warden for raping his sister. There is no statute of limitation issues for crimes, unless the prosecutor starts to charge or files and lets the case sit, but Mary could go after her fucker of a brother! But, now the Salt Lake Brassy Bitch is going from straightening out Utah to Montana! The big boys would rather protect a rapist, than protest me, totally innocent, just like Utah, I took on the system, by pointing out, that a man over the woman's prison, molested his own sister, and you don't think there is funky shit going down in the city or prison? Really, are you that fucking nieve? I am not, but I will take shit for his crimes, or exposing him. The real crime is not the crime, but getting found out about, and we are going to take out the whistleblower, not the criminal, who should be on the sex registry, not running for any type of office!
I see Guy, and I can't tell if James is with him, but the rescue mission SUV, with the sticker, is sitting at the light, just seconds after I get inside and safe, if he is looking for me, I booked it, even in the snow and ice. He is stopped at the light, and the thought comes to me, maybe he is collecting bread from the grocer at the far end of town . . . nope, he turns into the mall, doesn't stop, but goes around the front of Herbergers, then around back, and comes back out, picking up speed, kicking shit all over the place by the time he hits the main street, Harrison. Now, the preacher that told us, that we were worshiping Baal, and we were here for a reason, implying something other than cops beat the shit out of me, and many others, who are there, in fact, like always, when someone finds out you are an attorney, they ask for help. One guy had been beaten almost to death by California cops, payback for demanding his rights in jail, and they worked with a landlord to get rid of him and int he process, sent him to the hospital for two months, with metal plates and screws, all over his severely beaten body. I say, Chris is a cop, because, when this guy, who had, not surprising disappeared, stop me, before I get another David Morgan, my San Quentin client, who is either dead, or they cut him a deal, and chased me away! But we started talking about his issues, and he was happily telling everyone, I was going to help him, and he disappears, just like the others at the other shelters, patterns, patterns, patterns, want to isolate me, that is the way abusers work, both personal and systems!
So, the tracked, is watching the tracker, track her! LOL! Bounty hunters . . . oooooooohhhhhh! Today,
Guy, heard me say, I was leaving and going to the library down here. To cover for his stupidity, the day before, perhaps knowing when I said, I waited the extra hour, drinking a Diet Coke that, I saw him pissed as hell, looking for me, while I was just laughing, looking to see if James, the double duo, were together, he was not there. But, he showed up this morning and said he had to pick up the preacher, due, who lived in the mission, then worked in the mission and then ran the mission. He didn't pick him up yesterday, nice attempt to cover, because he got to the mall, after I did, yesterday, and used the wi-fi, in the center mall, because the library was closed. So, he could not have gone around to the back of the mall and picked up the guy, because he was not there for some time after Guy left. Therefore, is trying to hide his hunt, he exposed it for sure . . . he did pick him up today, about 11:15 a.m., and I was already at the computer! LOL!
The best laid plans of mice and men! I am sure they are scheming something else up for me, later. Yawn!
Fun Side Note . . . Welcome to Butte, the Richest Hill in the World . . . Indian Boy, is Digging for Gold Under Grandma's House!
To be an energizer of thought, action, fun, entertainment, movement, work, and whatever, is the ultimate power . . . you can throw all the money you want at something, but that will not motivate someone to do something. I had to laugh and got a kick out of, Donna, a Native American, who has family living at the mission also, but, she informed her cousin, that her grandson, was digging for gold under her house! Good for him, there is gold, in these here hills, and he is going to get his piece of it. Fortune favors the bold . . . go for it little darling, maybe you will find your pot of gold under the rainbow, here in Butte! I have friend in Kalispell, who pan for gold. They roll into town around Christmas, or when it gets cold in the hills, and as late as possible, and they pack up in March and head for the hills. They pan for gold, just like the old gold rush dudes. My female CIA assassin friend, does the same, but she is getting domesticated, after raising 7 kids of her own, he is taking on a younger lover, and helping to raise his two kids, LOL! Eat your hearts out . . . some of us, never grow old!
