Kiss of Death
Very interesting . . . the writings on the wall . . . yesterday, as I do many days, after writing my blog, I watch movies, 48 Hours, FBI Files, Cold Cases and other true crime shows, the closer to reality, the more I like movies, fantasy, science fiction, and others, not my cup of tea, I want to learn something. So, Saturday, I recommended you watch, the CIA, slam of the 1996, I think, Bad Company, with characters, that look a lot like the players that I am dealing with, Ellen Burkin, Rachel--blonde, hates her boss, she owes him too much, like being me, the older guy, Frank, aka, Allan, and Fishburn, a combo of my two black lovers, who most likely are CIA, both of the Culinary Institute of Arts, or the CIA! This is a movie, about former CIA agents, who leave government work, for one reason or another, and join companies, that can use their top security clearances, training, spy experience, and in this case, assassination and intimidation skills. Of, I forgot, the chick that is the girlfriend of the dirty judge, with a conscience, Beachie as she tenderly called him, looks a lot like Kay--short, brunette, weak, aka, JoAnn! So, I think, the Mormon run CIA, FBI, NSA, saw the similarities that the movie represented, and the probably took that, as they do many things I bring attention to, off the Internet, as they now, monitoring my viewing of yesterday, taken off the 1995, R rated, Kiss of Death, with Nicholas Cage, David Caruso, and Samuel Jackson . . . because, again, it reveals, the true nature of the feds, the state prosecutors, the mob, and buying judges, and judgeships!
Surveillance, surveillance surveillance . . . I was going to list, every dirty judge in the state of Utah in my blog today, and can do so without the help of a movie, but that drives home the point, throwing cases, letting criminals off the hook, and leaving those in witness protection to fend for themselves! Okay, so no surprise, they are yanking the movie, that has been on the Internet, as long as the Internet has been around, one produced in 1995! The note that came with it, said, This video is no longer available due to copyright claim by FOX! That was not there yesterday, or any time since YouTube picked up the movie! Now, maybe due to the large number of readers, and heavy volume of my readership, regardless of the fact that all search engines, have had the numbers manipulated, it is safe to say, that I get between 1 and 2 billion readers per day, and sometimes higher! I did notice an uptick, in the viewership and volume of the Internet traffic, and maybe, as is the nature of all big business, they will capitalize on my recommendations, on this movie, just wanted you to take note.
NOTE: ART REFLECTS LIFE . . . Not life reflecting art! Most likely as in my story, nobody would believe a book, written on my life's story, because, fact is stranger than fiction, and I would have to write a non-fictional story, as fiction . . . this morning, I walked by Parady Financial, Durango . . . which brought to mind, the Kangaroo Express . . . or the fact that my securities case, was stolen, identity stolen, and aided and abetted by the feds, with continued support and corruption! A parady, is a spoof, or a sarcasic rendition of the real, and we all know what a kangaroo court is! That is what we have here. Last night as I got back to the shelter, the movie, with Harrison Ford as President of the United States, was starring in, Air Force One, with Glenn Close--my fathers middle name is Glenn, as his V.P., and thought, how high in the government, have these fucking clowns, put, these bitches on my resume, my cases, legislation, my emails, blogs, and my history with law enforcement or pushing law enforcement around and toward reform? And it is really scary to think, that, some high government officials, thinking they were dealing with me, my brains, my background and experience, my education, are dealing with biology, P.E., history majors, EMTs, and inferior attorneys for form things such as foreign policy, and relying of bull shit, T&A, with their fucking male counterparts, trying to fill in the gaps in their knowledge, work ethics, and experiences, with is neel to nothing! But they do have Mormon, mob and MIB connections, and apparently, nice T&A! Good God Almighty! And, by the way, the Mormon run NSA, in Utah with 30,000 spies, trying to protect the Mormon Muffins, turned off my spell check . . . do you fuckers, seriously, think that is going to stop me for one second? I know that you steal my blogs, and run them through, computer programs, to try to improve them, and generally, it is a fucking word preference, and then take credit that YOU wrote them, having scanned them when I publish, and then you take value in performance, and for what, exactly?
Google allowed these fucked up bitches and bastards, to steal my entire blog, leaving me numbers, that I had the first week I wrote . . . after the numbers could not contain, a billion hits of about me making them $1 million per day, the results, suddenly, several months ago, started to spill over into bing, which started the fantastic climb in results, much like the early days on Google, then in one day, after reaching about 25,000,000 is about 65 seconds, the numbers were cut in half, and never have gone back to the average of roughly 20,000,000 results, now skimming the second billion!
Two Coolest Compliments, Extremes, In My Life! LOL!
WHERE IS YOUR DAD?
The other day, while sitting in Ronald's Playplace, McDonald's, Durango, having just finished my blog on the comparison, between the rescued fishermen, in Thailand, and Jesus Christ, freedom fighter, fisher of men, and waiting for all of us to return to our Heavenly home, just as the excitement of the fishermen, going home to their families and countries. I turned on a few free music mixes on love, and thought about, past, present, and love interests. Somehow, I, got to Guns & Roses, and decided to listen to that for awhile and rock out, Easter Sunday. Sometimes, these mishaps, seem inspired, with deep seeded messages, as this one seemed to be . . . the titles of the songs, seemed to tell my story, of me, my son, and the music thieves: (1) November Rain; (2) Don't Cry; (3) Sweet Child O Mine: (4) Yesterdays; (5) Patience; (6) Paradise City; (7) Welcome to the Jungle; (8) Estranged . . . I remember my father, talking to someone, several years ago, and saying that I was estranged from all my kids! What, I had just talked to them all, all four, including my Redheaded, rock star, often, when wearing long hair, the RED JESUS! Sowing the seeds of the deciet and lies, that this group of tune pirates used to not only convince others, but brainwashing my son, that I had, abandoned him . . . driving him 300 miles a weekend, for three years, from the time I bought him his first guitar, to the time he got his driver's license, and driving Isaac, the lying little fucker, just like his criminal minded mother, to make sure he got band practice, until Elliot's skill, tenacity, talent, brilliance, left that lazy little fuck in the DIRT!; (9) Since I don't have you . . . Frank, who allegedly fucked, over 800 to 1,000 women, as Mr. 007, or the American equivalent, was jilted by me, never got sex, even MARRIED, he turned to easier prey, Shelley or Michelle, code name, symbolic!; (10) Live and Let Die; (11) Knockin on Heaven's Door; (12) Madagascar; (13) Garden of Eden; (14) Civil War; (15) Your Could be Mine--could have been, but you, dip shit fucked that up . . . deserve Shelley and Isaac, rather than me and Elliot, Sweet Child O Mine! (16) Nightrain; (17) Rocket Queen; (18) Mr. Brownston--Kay's last name was, Brown; (19) Coma, or co-ma; (20) My Michelle, Shelley is short for Michelle . . . pretty amazing huh? Not with God as my Intel man!
So, I have got the very cool, but not as cool, as my son's first, God's Revolver, CD, Little Black Horse Where Are You Going With Your Dead Rider? cover, green and black, with a skeleton on the horse, drinking whiskey, dripping on a seedy lady or lady of the streets, with the stark trees in the background, both haunting and as mind searching as the lyrics, that have been compared to writer Faulkner, the lyrics of Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and poet, Jim Morrison, lead singer for the Doors, by New York Writer's Guild . . . but the skull with a top hat, six shooters, mixed with roses, is way cool too. So, I am just diggin the afternoon, with thoughts, memories, and basically, not giving a rat's ass, what the hell anybody thought and watched. Below, other artists, there was one that said, Rock & Metal Greatest Hits, knowing that was true . . . every time, back when I could, on Google, wrote about God's Revolver . . . my blog would go up by at least, 100,000,000 hits or results, sure winner, great music, hard rock band of 2008, that my son, was deprived of getting the satisfaction of his music, and fucking lazy ass Isaac got the fame! But fuckin little faggot! At the time that GR was planning a nationwide tour, Isaac had a CD, with coins, and it was coffee shop music on accustical guitar!
These two sisters, about 4 and 6, come up, as kids do, with their mother telling them to leave me alone, but ignoring her, and being more interested in my listening to music and almost dancing in my seat. I stopped and let them look at the colorful artwork of the Guns & Roses, cover . . . they started to bob their heads, along with the music, as I let them listen to the ear buds. Finally, one of the sisters, the oldest one, looked at me and said, Where is your dad? I was a bit taken back by the question, and it took me a minute to get my berrings, acknowledging the fact, that this little girl, was thinking that I was as young as she was, in the playplace, all alone! LOL! I look young, but this, even this, took me so off guard, that I just said, oh, my dad is old, and lives in Utah, and I have grown children, older than your mother! That seemed to satisfy them and they ran off to play for a few seconds . . . but, maybe that was more telling a question, that it seemed on the surface, with Kay Baby, taking my place in the Southwick family, and a father that would rather have me dead, so his favorites, can steal the eggs of the Golden Goose, his second daughter! Out of the mouths of babes! Sometimes, wisdom beyond their years!
YOU ARE SO SMART . . . WHILE YOU WERE FLUFFING YOUR HAIR . . .
So, after the compliment yesterday, that I found, really, precious, in its innocence, but powerful, in its implications, I was a bit taken back by this comment by an 82 year old man, who started out, our introduction with kind of a backhanded, if not a total put down, statement, probably thinking that I didn't know what he was referring to . . . So, I am sitting by the Aminas River, looking at the water, the Iron Horse Bridge, and eating a Jean Pierre's chocolate ecclair, shear perfection, by all accounts. After enjoying the moment, I fluffed my hair, having gotten a bit sweaty, walking from the Manna Soup Kitchen, where bless her heart, the owner of the French pastry, I think on Main and College, one of the cutest shops, I have ever seen in my life, with fresh pastries sitting outside, near the door, to entice you into the quaint, antique shop, of old time, Tombstone movie flavor, and style, and I get up to cross the bridge and this frail, older gentleman, is also, on the bridge, I asked if he was local, just making conversation, and mutually enjoying the morning sunshine with him, and he said, No, I am from Mars . . . well, I am from Venus! And I hurried away from the grumpy old man! I was referring to the book about male/female relationships, Men are From Mars, And Women are From Venus . . . a nice segway into my next subject! A tale of two lovers, or love interests, at this point!
To my chagrin, it was still early, and I had a half hour, until the library open, and I started back down the trail, to go check out the Durango Botanical Gardens, that had a clean-up, Saturday, to see what had changed, if anything, with the 10 to 20 volunteers, cleaning, weeding, planting, in this great garden, with art dispersed around the area, flowering already, and to get another look at the very, funky, cool, wheel, of gold, with the Durango & Silverton Railroad Train, going around a circular track, awesome art, rendition of the fun, outdoor train, with tons of tourists, already early in the season, with the river swelling, and blossoms of pink, dark and light, white, yellow bushes, dafodiles and other early spring flowers, in bloom. But, as I rounded the library, the grumpy older man, was coming up . . . scream, I had no choice but to talk to him again! We started talking about everything from Syria, to Iran, I told him about the La Plata County, Great Decisions Group, that meets, every other Tuesday of the month, at 12:00 noon, and invited him to join, not knowing the source of his arrogant, comment about Mars, he is Edwin R. Young, Ph.D, as systems analyst, who goes into prison systems and institutions and tells them who to improve, and I told him about my background, teaching, etc.
He finally, said, a bit puzzled, that, You are so smart . . . I bet, well, I bet, that you grow tired of the rest of us, who are . . . well, kind of stupid! I still at that time, didn't know that he was a Ph.D, but he added, which started to make more sense, that he doesn't watch news or read the newspaper any more, too depressing, but, still puzzled by my brain, he said, When you were at the river, fluffing your blonde hair . . . you thought I was a dumb blonde? Well, yes, kind of like that? Stereotypes are dangerous, because they are so often wrong! Or at least with this blonde, not your dittzy blonde of the blonde jokes, I am much more flattered by lawyer jokes! At least that recognizes my social status, and that I am not just a dumb blonde, that would be my sister! LOL! Trying to be me! You know, Glenn Close of the Richard Glenn Southwick clan! Nemises, for sure! LOL! I assured him that I didn't do stupid well! LOL! With that in mind, that leads me to the two men, that I was currently, somewhat interested, looking at the pluses and minuses, of both, and weighing in on what a potential outcome might be with either one, or both, or neither, all okay with me. I told him I had taught at three colleges, adding to his puzzled looks, with first impressions of me fluffing my hair. LOL!
The Story of James & James . . . How Convenient!
This morning, the female staff at the Manna Soup Kitchen, best food in town, oh, I was going to mention, that the owner, of Jean Pierre's French Pastries, faithfully, every day, drops off two large boxes of french pastries, calorie free, that is, the French know how to make pastries without getting fat, and leaves them for the mouth watering crowd, who always drop what they are doing to get a colorful, fancy, and delicious, french pastry of perfection, but the females, who might have read my blog, after asking me what my blog was called, and then, said, we love the 50 shades of grey ones . . . so? I told them, in response to their questions, how I found out about the Durango shelter and soup kitchen, and I said, that James Angel Kennedy, one of the 51 male Kennedy brothers, told me about it, and I was suppose to meet him here, but, actually, I told him, originally I was not coming, but decided to surprise him and shelter our relationship from others, who might follow, or harm him, having a drive by shooting, after kind of hooking up in Butte, Montana!
There first question to me, if, is he a hunk? Hell, yes, in fact, I say he is brutally handsome, he is gorgeous, but kind of mountain man, doesn't carry a cell phone, and I may never see him again, because first, he didn't know I was coming . . . told him and meant it that I had applied for a job in Bozeman, as legal counsel for the college, Montana State University, but when I realized that these type of jobs, take a month to screen, and another month and a half to start, June 1st, starting date, that I might as well go follow James to Durango, but I was sick for two weeks, so I don't know if he ever came or not, and his leg, was still, in my mind, a long way from being healed enough to ditch his crutches like he did, and carry his 150 pound, tramp camp with him. He may actually, still be in Butte, I never told him, or checked, what the dates were, just did my own thing, like my independence and I can tell he does too . . . nice if you come, but I don't think, at this point, either of us, wanted to be burdened with the other person, not quite there yet.
James I . . . Kissy, Kissy, Smoochy, Smoochy . . . I Don't Think So
While I was immediately attracted to his guy, a bit scruffy, but definitely my type of bad boy, image, the wild man, biker dude, mountain man, rugged, manly, and catching my eye, livening the Butte Rescue Mission up, like the Christmas lights that had just marked the season, my first thought, was, this is the doing of the FBI DATING game match up, again, and of course I am going to like him! The curious thing was, the ring incident, where, I panicked, and looked for a lost wedding ring, on my right hand, not the ring finger had, so even more symbolic of the wrong wedding, or the fact that I had never like the confinement of a wedding ring, so within minutes of his arrival having this bizarre affect on my psych had me even more interested. I din't know his name for a day or two, as we eyed each other from across the room . . . a movie, and cold, frigid day, and James, up were the only seats were that you could see the 7 inch TV screen! We both commented, broke the ice, and about flipped a gear, when the first part of a two part, we both thought, one part, movie, was over, leaving us involved and left hanging there!
That night, after dinner, James bee lined if over to me, and started with the pick up lines, that were not going anywhere with me, and the kissy, kissy, smoochy part, was doing anything but turning me on, even if the last chick he was with, was an attorney, I am not that easy, I informed this man, who looked, like If its female, we do it type guy! I decided this game, is going to be played different by a smart female, not ruled by her pussy, and her need for his cock being in her, and I informed him of that, in no uncertain terms. The money lure didn't work either, and I could tell, that he was starting to get concerned that the normal, female enticements, were not what this not so ordinary girl was looking for! The pick up lines, and male hunting patterns stopped, and a more shy, contemplative, and serious, but still, as male and forceful in his scripture studies, each night with me, giving us an opportunity to get close, smell each other, and touch a bit, given the close proximity, James, pulled us to. Finally, after, being backed down, and put, down to some extent, he got sick of the games, and said, I think it is time we got a hotel room and satisfied the mutual lust we have for each other . . . Speak for yourself, was my response! He was pissed, and stood up and walked out of the mess hall, saying, don't let her fool you, she is a Mormon! Implying that I was just playing with him and I was never going to put out, no matter what he did! LOL!
We All Know What Safe Sex is, But That Was Smart Sex . . . James II
I disappeared for a month and a half, one morning after, the night after, lol, when James was either drunk or high, and told me he loved me, and I admitted that I loved him too. He was going to be a challenge, but, I was just the gal to give it to him, I would hit at his abandonment issues! LOL! Which worked. After I found out, while passing through Butte, going to Helena, to the Montana legislature, to see what they were up to, that James had been shot in a drive by shooting, that the cops, denied, saying we would have had 10 of them . . . you haven't dealt with the mafia type threats, and Frank, my jilted, 4th husband, who staged his own suicide, and haunts me, taking away everything I hold precious and dear, because I could have been his? That was his fault that I was not! He fucked up the marriage, I didn't, I just reacted to his lame ass male ego, shit! But, death, is a reality for men, who like me, and the drive-by shooting, was the reason, fearing for his safety, after both of our confessions, his would not hold up in court . . . the judge would ask, were you under the influence of drugs or alcohol, at the time you told, JoAnn Secrist that you loved her? Yes, your honor . . . null and void, my confession of love, would stand up, because, I am never under the influence of anything stronger than Diet Coke, unless, that is, something more intoxicating, that the influence of love, sweet love! And of that, I would have to admit, your Honor, I am guilty.
Okay, so, two weeks, and without James knowing, thinking he would be here, maybe, I came to Durango. And being the type of female I am, a man magnet, lol, I wasn't three days in Durango, before, the next, undercover cop, tried his head on the JoAnn Secrist, guiotine, or sacrificial alter of the slaughtered lambs, with a woman, who collects hearts, like souveniers. LOL! But, James II, a interesting name, and to me, not likely, but, with definite emotional connections, stops briefly, on the main thorough fare, Camino Del something, while I am resting, while walking to find the library, and taking a break . . . he yells from his SUV, Hey, do you need a ride? No, I am just walking to the library, that at that point, I didn't know where it was. Whatever, not an uncommon occurrence for me, even got dinner and propositioned twice in Butte, lol, while crew, rough riders those boys!
While at the library, I notice, this guy, who kind of looks, like the guy who just tried to pick me up, on the streets, but didn't pay much attention. I was into my blogging, and didn't give it much more thought, until, he dropped this note on my table, which read, Hi, I stopped to get my tax forms . . . I guess he forgot that I told him I was going to the library, but cute . . . and saw you again. Imagine that? I had asked you if you needed a ride earlier, I am not that stupid, that I now, that you dropped a note, noticed it was you, My name is James. I'd love to hang out w/you sometime. Call me at . . . As he dropped the note, it confirmed my suspicions that this, was, in fact, that guy, who had asked me if I needed a ride, and nice try, using the tax forms as an excuse. So we talked for about a half hour, and I was attracted, this guy, kind of looks, like Adam Saddler, and that night, Big Daddy & Happy Gilmore, were the movie selection, and Saddler, was so charming, in finally getting the girls of his dreams, and actually, marrying her in one movie and with her in the other . . . and both characters were so, sweet, that it endeared me to this new James, right off the bat . . . maybe, not as handsome, but more fun, was exactly what I needed, to get my mind off James, not that it was all that, there, by this time and several weeks, of near death experiences from poison, and seeing another love interest of over a year, who is living with his girlfriend, and we both know, we are attracted, and he is my other, good guy prototype of guy I like . . . must be bi-polar! Lol, but after a year and a half of spending a shit load of money on buses, going between Las Vegas and Kalispell, I have about had it, and want some fun . . . this guy is just the ticket, or so I thought! He called me, because, I never call a guy . . . wanted to take me out, the day he met, but I didn't want to be the next victim on 48 Hours or FBI Files, high pressure, I passed.
James I, From Sex to Love; James II, From Smart & Sexy, To What Are You Wearing in Bed Right Now? Sure as Hell, Not YOU!
Men, you need to realize, that women, want to be desired, that is their number one need; men want to be respected, according to surveys, but smart women, such as I consider myself to be, are a different breed altogether, while we want to be desired, the smart aspect, can not drop out of the picture, all together, for T&A pursuit, and lacy nighties! During my day, I am writing about Syria, Iran Nuke deals, domestic violence, police brutality, etc., and I just don't give a rat's ass about, your cock, and what it takes to get you, amped up . . . just my mere presence in your life, should amp both your ego, and your cock up . . . Cialis and Viagra, have never been needed for my men, and tapping it down is more like it, but that is for men, who realize, this is no ordinary girl! James, told me the reason he stopped or tried to pick me up, was because he found me both, sexy and smart . . . good boy. That attracted me, and got me interested, and within time, if both of those are respected, you will get sex! And maybe, love. Remember, that women, give sex for love, and men, generally speaking, give love for sex! And that is the Ugly Truth, movie, with heart over the guy's dick, and heart over the woman's heart!
So, James II, after getting the reality of the shelter and that I have a chore, I need to do each day, is winning points, when he contacts me after the first rejection, and respects the fact, that while he offered to let me stay at his house, an option, that I had responsibilities and obligations, as a guest of the shelter, and needed at least a 24 hour notice, so I could either get my job done earlier, or latter, depending on the times he wanted to get together, for a tour of the city, the mountains, and hopefully, something to eat, since I mentioned that I wanted to get out and see the scenery and town . . . we was all over that. But, the week away, Wednesday, that we haven't even come to yet, turned into, I need to see you on Monday, and then on Sunday . . . what is he, a hit man, and trying to get this over with, what's up, my brain gears, start to wonder what the hell he is up to? But, Sunday, the combination of love songs, a fun Easter, the beautiful weather, and texts to him, while he is at work, are getting sexier and steamier, and don't ever let men, tell you, women, that only they suffer, from what they call, blue balls, because, speaking for myself, I just get them, deeper inside, rather than on the external sex organs. The curious walk home, the request for time, the cops!
You are Recording Our Conversations, You Are A Cop, Gig is UP!
So, for those of you who only tune into the 50 Shades of Grey blogs . . . women, I had attended a group, and had written, due to the knew knowledge I garnered, a 6 point plan for Syria, and having attended, an ethics presentation for cop training, I had been writing about cop issues, plus Iran, and other weighty political and social issues. I am much more in my thinking like a man, task oriented, can compartmentalize, and get a job done, and I am focused. So, while sexual interests are on my mind, and it doesn't take me much to get reved up, you have to get me there, first. And just because you are thinking about sex, every 20 seconds or some insane numbers, for a man, while psychosexually more like you than most females, I have to make some type of transition, and don't just flip, and I am lit. LOL!
So, me and lover boy, are writing, off and on all day, and I tell him, trying to get his attention span, between thoughts, to expand a bit, and tell him, after telling him I didn't want to see him after work, that anticipation is half of the magic! I am trying to teach him the higher levels of satisfaction, timing, readiness, willingness, and rightness, of smart sex. I tell him that the bodies largest sex organ is the brain, and you have to engage that also, or the sex is not as good. I tell him, that rather than wear sexy nighties, and underwear, that I like to mind fuck my victims first, tenderize them a bit, before anything happens, making sure, this is not the T&A games most stupid men play and pass on a heightened sexual experience, that transcends, just a physical altercation and experience . . . his mind is not going there. But as we are texting, a a bit of sexting, he asked me a second time, what I was wearing to bed . . . is this a stalker, a phone sex addict, or what, he is not listening to me, and I am not going to be the voice, text, and source of him getting off!
So, I tell him, that there are no Victoria Secrets for this gal, and start with the cerebral fuck, and again, he asks me what I am wearing, as I am looking over at the granny underwear, I had just washed out, and laid on the towel on the other bed, of blue, purple and tan, honestly sleeping in the same clothes, with a shower, as I had worn in the day . . . I travel light, when homeless, and if it doesn't all fit in my American West, black, bling and fringe, purse, I got, at the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas a few years ago, sharing space with my computer, make-up, necessities, it doesn't go, and sexy undies and nighties are as far from this gals, cerebral cortex, as martians and green cheese. The thought came to mind, given the blog, the day before, where I aired all my extreme issues with cops, and looking back on the day, that twice he asked me where I was, with cops, following shortly there after, and a thought, that there were a shit load of people out on the patio, behind the Manna, that never ate, and being inspired to leave, early from brunch, that I might be getting set up . . . that is more normal, that just some hot to trot, younger guy, wanting to get in my pants! But, on the way home, Sunday night, he asked me where I was . . . on the bridge, going back up the hill, crossing over a very symbolicly named street, Roosa Avenue . . . but, this whole thing has been a rouse! The thought came to mind, that as, he would text me, a red light, would come on for just second, and the word locked would appear on my cell phone . . . months ago, and I had gotten my glasses stolen that night, but I remember seeing a similar red light, and on close up inspection, it was the symbol of a tape recording sign!
I am probably being recorded, and listened to for cop entertainment, or to see if I write something that might compromise me, or being used against me. That has happened too! So, about midnight, and I don't seem to get his mind off what I am wearing and not going there anyway, he going the opposite direction I want, and seemingly getting divine intelligence updates, from God, my Intel, guy, the other four women, who had been a sleep, for hours, all at one time coughed, one of my symbols for cops, sounding close . . . all together, and I had two times, after not coughing for a week, coughed right after he texted me. That is it, I always error on the side of safety and smarts, dumped his ass, canceled the dates, and told him the gig was UP! Nice trip to Heaven and Hell in one afternoon and evening! That's, that, no text, apology, make up, will do, we are through! Looking back, he was most likely a fed, I was an assignment, I was tracked and hunted, and the Honey Trap employed . . . he seemed fun, interesting, smart, a good writer, had a schedule, a job, and wanted to do what I wanted to do!
They Don't All Hate Me For No Reason!
I have been know, as the Ice Princess or Queen, more than once, and I don't look back. I can't afford to be poisoned, shot, and harassed, I am too smart . . . fool me once, your fault, fool me twice, mine! He tried the next morning, but he backed down fast, probably having studied my responses in the past, from other sacrificial lambs on the bed of a bad ass con law chick like me . . . in the movie, you are not going to get to see on federal and state corruption, Nicholas Cage, comes up with an acronym for he signature, BAD, Balls, Attitude, Direction . . . yeah, that fits, me too. When you start playing with the big boys, the line between love and hate, are thin . . . my experience has taught me, that if I don't love them, they will destroy me! And there is not a damned thing in between, they will use the T&A girls, to try to diminish focus on my brains, and the fact, that once they leave me, going for what men are taught they should like, they will never, ever, ever, be satisfied again, with a purely physical relationship, or T&A, they have tasted, and felt much more with me, but generally, like with this guy, it is too late . . . as I told him, I label and brand my men, and they are mine forever, sad thing is, that most of them learn this too late! Then they hate . . . no one, or a rare women, knows how to use something other than the props and trappings of boobs, sexy underwear, and mindless chit chat . . . and guys of this level, while conditioned like most men, and smart enough, to realize, that they have been had, and there is no going back!
The thing that impressed me so much about Kennedy, who can, and I am sure does, get more than his fair share of easy prey and lays, was at least smart enough, right off the bat, to see, that this was not going to be male purrogative and business as usual . . . skill, knowledge, and love, were the order of the day! So, as fast as James II, came and had a chance with me, he was cast aside, just as fast, and maybe, too bad for both of us, but he was not smart enough to see, where I was going, and I was smart enough to see what his focus would be. I am sexy and smart, and I could fuck a guy a night if I wanted to . . . just yesterday, two much younger men, approached me, and one told me how beautiful I am, and the other one wanted to hang out, and insisted on a hug. They are attracted by the power, the essence, the looks, but surely, not the body, right now. I want someone, like James, who I know is a man, and generally attracted visually, to love me, as I am, because, many more, will love me thin, and someone who rejects me now, will never get a second chance . . . and there are some, literally, who had a chance, made the mistakes, and beg, plead and want me back, and that is a no deal, end of story, sad thing, but they have nobody, but themselves, and stupid male conditioning to blame, and buying that bull shit . . . but men that are not smart enough to realize that, right off the bat, that it took me 60 years to get this smart, and it will take me, 3 to 6 months, to get thin . . . are nothing but stupid, and I don't do stupid, just like a rich guy wants to know that they are loved for themselves, not their money, a beautiful woman, wants to know, that if she gets old, or fat, or for better or for worse, within reason, that she will still be loved!
The Biker Dudes & The Deer
Saturday night, Raising Arizona, another Nicholas Cage and Holly Hunter movie was on . . . and there is the bad ass biker dude, and as one point, when my thoughts, were back with James I, the words in the movie, said, follow or be true to your heart . . . it was kind of bizarre, statement given the scene. But, the first victim, of this hideous thing, that I seem trapped in, mafia, of sorts, with mafia tactics, not on the part of the men, I love, but just the fact, that I love the men I love and they end up paying, thinking that, I will get conditioned, not to love again, or never to love again, or this band of fuckers, who didn't or were not smart enough to put head over heels, use that against me, rather than learning! But, Frank, killed, or helped Shelley, kill, my client, at first, who told the other guys in the jail, Iron county, that he was going to marry his attorney! Nobody believed him, but it happened. I started to see the biker, the cowboy and the Marine, in different eyes, once out of the orange jumpsuit, and started to fall in love with him . . . he was killed, one day, when my patterns changed, generally driving by his house, in Parowan, honking, and checking in with him about legal issues, and just saying hi, after his unlawful year in jail. But, this one day, he looked sexy, having women his whole life, cleaned up off alcohol, dressed cool, Led Zeplin playing, and working to clean a trailer, to give to a couple who were losing their home . . . I tagged around with him, for about two hours, and the tables, had definitely turned . . . he had complete and utter confidence, that once I got to know him, that I would like or even love him . . . nobody could believe we were married, although, I fell in love with a dead man, and it took me about two weeks to realize that I had married his double, Frank . . . I mourned, mercilessly for 7 months.
One winter night, at dusk, around Christmas, there were grey skies, a light snow, a beautiful, is sad, night, I was, doing my normal, daily and nightly ritual, going up to the Parowan Cemetary, turning on, the song, You will always be 18 and running away with my heart . . . I fell in love with him, and his pictures of military service, at about that age, kept the flame alive! That is a country song by Lady Antibellum, and I would sit up alone, at the cemetary, wonder what would have happened if we had been together, Christmas lights, dancing in the backyard, under a moonlit night, stars, the love seat I bought him for Father's Day . . . and tears, would inevitably come streaming down my cheeks, like are starting right now. What would life have been like, I knew he loved me, and I had fallen in love with him postmortum, with unrequited love, and now where to let it go. Frank was the monster, who worked with the cops to destroy me, had taken my love, was taking my son's music, and had likely planned the whole thing! I didn't add that underline, the computer, the NSA, or the good guys! Painful, it was . . . but one night, two deer, a young buck, and a young doe, came down out of the mountains, while I was wondering what it would have been like meeting Allan, when we were both young? He was parking lot crowd, but a cowboy, I was straight laced, and we might have clashed . . . but these two young deer, seemed to be teaching me a different story.
As I was leaving, driving down the road, near the park, and going about 45 mph, I caught the motion of something running along side of the truck . . . to my surprise, it was the young buck, running full stride, as fast as the truck, trying to keep up with me, staying with me, until the truck and the road cut off the park, grass and the buck. It seemed as if, the young buck, symbolic of Allan, for it came to the grave sites of his parents, and sister, where I would park, but through the deer, representing something or someone deer, seemed to say, that if he could, he would be with me, and was as long as he could . . .
The Crippled God, The Crippled Deer . . . Dear to Me
So, when I was in Butte, with James, the second time, much more humbling to both of us, me wondering if, my fears, that surveillance picked up the tender exchange of long held words, between James I, and me, and fearing that now, he would be the target of a much more sinister fate, than he even knew possible, but I had known four times, as late as September 1, 2014, having lost, 4 men, who were near and dear to my heart, the signs from God, Intel, were telling me for sometime, before this, that I needed to leave, or James would be a target . . . but, after I heard about him, his possible, not totally confirmed, he struggles with alcohol too, and the cops, just chalked the injury up to a terrible fall, but the x-rays told a different story, he thought it, and I knew it, but I came back to see how he was, and we were much more distant, me wondering, while wanting to see him, he pissed, and wondering why I left without telling him where I was going. But, watching him struggle, such a beautiful majestic man, I immediately noticed a book, on display at the library, that was titled, The Crippled God . . . James, God-like looks to me, Olympus material, for sure!
We finally, talked, under his breath, after about a week, not sitting by me talking to me, or waiting for me, he said, Why did you leave without telling me where you were going? I didn't want you murdered. I think he realized, that this was real, putting two and two together, adding up the cops response, and me telling him, of four other's with fates, much worse than his . . . his was a warning, I was gone by that time, shot that night! How do you expect, someone to love you, under these conditions, wrong, right or indifferent, this is a horrendous situation. We both avoided each other, with a look, a smile, a nod, that was about it, until he told me, that I would like Durango, and telling me he was going. I was like, way cooled down, due to the reality of his leg, his struggle, he was more like an 18 year old, before this, and it hurt me to think that I might be the reason, not sure, but seemed par for the course, and how do you say, I am sorry. But, to error on the side of safety, I told him, for the cameras, over head, that I was going to stay in Montana, until I heard of the job, in Bozeman, and that would determine, where I was going to live.
The next day, I decided that James, beauty, excitement and adventure, won over the job . . . I wouldn't hear for two and a half months, and by that time, maybe, we would both be ready to settle down, but neither one of us, born to be wild, would be right now . . . but, I decided to surprise him, was poisoned, within hours of buying my ticket to Grand Junction, the closest I could get to Durango . . . again, not letting James know. That would be his death sentence, I was afraid, but now, I am hoping that my blog, this, love, might win, and protect him, from the murderous men, who would rather see me dead, that with someone else, that hate me, and don't want me to have any happiness, nor love anyone but them. But, yesterday, with James II, off the table, losing my glasses, and being unable to write, read the newspaper, I just picked up where I left off, with the lovers of Motown, singing about love, R&B . . .
Song . . . You Had My Life In Your Hands
They lyrics to a song, came on, and I started to bawl my eyes out, thinking about the reality of James, his leg, what could have happened, if I had stayed, I think either this time or last time, terror and love filled my heart. The song, When will I see you again, came on . . . and as I was having a total melt down, tears, runny nose, and falling apart, over the experiences, the poison, the shooting, and the past, that made it all seem so possible, while rational people, would never believe it, or do it, that was the reality, I again, looked out, and saw a crippled deer, so dear, and meaningful, to me, but the fear, that he too was now dead, filled me with dread . . . I found some comfort in the fact, that the first morning, I woke up at the shelter, James recommended, there were a pair of black men's shoes, on the grass across the parking lot, just as if someone was standing in them . . . like a sign from James, that he was near, but invisible, but watching. Later that day, or a few days later, Monday, the same time I met, James II, I was out on the balcony, on the second floor of the library, and noticed, what James would call a tramp camp, with a canopy or cover made of blue tarp, directly across the valley, but highly visible to me, and a total sign, that he was safe, maybe, because he always, even in freezing temperatures, had a camp, somewhere about a mile outside of town, so this would be consistent, and he would know, that my routine, was to go to the library, and write my blog first each day.
So, the camp, the shoes, and the deer, crippled, as it walked, both brought comfort, and fears. Was he still alive? Would they leave him alone? Was he, with 9 years of studying numbers, using his exact mind to compare and crunch numbers, checking my blog, with the alleged thieves, to see what had been changed, names, dates, places, and whatnot, just like the guy, sitting one table away, so intent, comparing two computers, and writing stuff? Every time I looked outside, a cop car drove by . . . I had suspected that James was a cop, but he was different, he would actually check my facts, like that I had just come up from Vegas, and I would show him the tickets, and he would inspect them, and when I got my birth certificate, he read it, checked dates, places, and names . . . was he pro, one who would help me, rather than believe the liars, and those who had forced me into poverty, to make people doubt everything I said, believing that this could not happen to people, they just don't know the government . . . most people who have done what I have done, are dead! My hope was, that the attraction, was also my salvation! And he was key.
I Love You, James "Angel" Kennedy, Cowboy, Wanted Dead or Alive! Kiss, Kiss, Smooch, Smooch!
NSA still has spell check off . . . all you dyslexic readers get to read, and the rest of you get to know how they feel. LOL! P.S., looking for the ring, wed at first sight, it was on the left hand, so the right ring hand and finger, shows you how little, I have had a ring on, didn't even realize, that was the ring hand! LOL, aversion to marriage, only attracted to about 1 in 10,000 guys, so this surprised me. Male fashion, Black, has a groom, in a tuxedo, who is James, handsome, but age seasons a guy, so my dude, is better, but the statement that the ad makes is, Bride's met her match . . . not that we will ever see each other again, but he definitely was a match!
