The Establishment system won this dreadful dialogue over Jimmy Curarie the Mt. Desert Island Emergency Services Union canary in the AIDS gold mine by sharklike intelligence crime, in other words they cheated, and as usual none dare call it poison.

      The blue cloak of the deceived husband is an ancient game memorialized in Medieval paintings, never more criminally directioned than to detonate a neuroimpaction as a tool for public mania and denial in the AIDS holocaust.  Having Hillary Clinton say, “trust me,” is worth money.

       The Establishment system always say I stereotype to get away with their own abuse of a person for symbolism by using me moronically, as though they didn’t know me or truly understand the situation with Leslie “Trump” to translate her index name, fiendishly exploiting me to good utility projecting the most diabolical stereotype of all:  jealous boyfriend.

       In the rabid, deranged, criminal, voodoo doll game of professional sadism than no one bothered to boo, a consortium of closet Attilas, Nancy Moore, Bill Wheeler, Ralph Proctor, Matt Marcus all crowed that I was a rejected lover who behaved like a crybaby.   They poo poo about the arsons, supposedly proof that none of it was real. Then they justified the most draconian arrivals for indecent review as though it was me engaging in exposure simply for trying to take a shower in private.

         For what was this done?  To defend a monstrous guild of inhuman child traffickers selling their pet harvest in Amsterdam “black” markets, promoting parochial music values.  This wasn’t a sacred Lennon paradox, it was just deceit. You want rights? Have some poison, they laugh.

        The cunning of Trump promoting Midori Goto as getting even in a fight club to advocate for a gang run by Caspar Weinberger is droll enough, given Hiroshima.  It is to be understood that Britain didn’t do that to Japan, their old trafficking cronies, so the notion of an East-West Union protecting the AIDS generation is crime that doesn’t pay.  Instead we’ll teach that asshole Jimmy Creary to fuck with Yoko Ono’s King Crimson behemoth.

        Glorifying romantic idealism, they made it sound like sour grapes.  True, broken hearts are very common. The epic of broken hearts they wrote as a narrative epic was put to Mz. Goto Hell’s violin as a subsidiary of the fiddlers in Dachau leading to King’s Heavenly Estate.  Both sides of the aisle are criminally insane. Seizing their estates is common decency under American Law. We should be focusing on saving the whales, and healing our wounded healers, like the Muslim nations.

         I will help you work out how it operated.   In the name of sour grapes they used the name Rather in Dealey Plaza, uploading Dan Rather from Star Trek, Obama’s mission house.   Rather Us was a staple pro-Nazi symbol in Laurel Canyon film works for HitlerReagan. Just turn to http://themepaper.webs.com for the proof found in a wartime film made by the men who first used the burning cross for the KKK, Obama’s promoters, another Lennon deceit, not a paradox, in a celebrity superstate game of Ark politics.

          Sniveling that I should die by the sword for living by the sword of the abortion walrus, they put me in a house from Gilleece plumbing with a man his head shoved into a toilet, advertising how they gassed me in Kings Estate, while Martin Sheen mocked me for jealousy seizures as they raped my only friend and the trust me attorney for Caspar and Company called me, “muh man,” for getting Muhdori in good with the killers.  Little sister makes good in the real estate.