Black functionaries of the South African Secret Service and Israeli extremists peddling political correctness as a front for their gang murders in the United States have convinced the American public, notoriously Seattle queers, through UW Sociology that nothing is more delectable than the vampire of the script howling about privacy invasion, the sunlight of Christiandom, while aping liberal platitudes. From the mouth of the liberal vampire come the white hypocrite’s false promises, and so on, as they rape the soul to enrich a Japanese war criminal. It’s apparently still too rich a laugh for Cuomo, even after the bonus attack. Penis Gabriel, in his psychotic NASA Never Never Land creams of fulfilling deadly fears. Obama never would dream of trying to make it past Clint Eastwood.
A few people who know me are aware that since March 2, 2020, three months ago, I have been through a number of grueling sicknesses none of which were covid and none of which protect me from covid, all of which were horrifying and weakened me at the hands of operators dealing death in illegal war games who tortured and poisoned me as a child and during the AIDS attack on Mt. Desert Island. They laugh that they are protecting me from hell.
Today, May 31, 2020 was a good case in point. I went hiking. It wasn’t that I anticipated or could avoid, or resent the homeless encamped in unexpected places, but the vomit on the sidewalk where I usually walk near the hospital attended by trace manuvers, a taxicab, recently in a story about a covid death, a pull in park watchman, and a Seahawks car in formation was typical craft of professional hit men lying about the Pitmans for the Rolling Stones, whose treachery has already literally broken my heart giving me SVT attacks from the trauma they are addicted to inducing. I am dealing with the criminally insane.
The murderers behind the attacks scheme to and probably have already taken over the country and with it introduced the right to thought monitoring by making a joke of attack prostitution on the linchpin of a simple device: one small fact, and Amy Globalczar knows you. Faced with Greg Karl and Karl Rove’s eastern wood war game about Karl’s Love for Japan, they know when faced with the cosmic obligation to either life for power or face the holy truth of death by Confederate firing squad, you will tell ….their so-called truth.
Donald Donald Ostro was working with the Spiders from Mars all along as a prize pedophile from Warhol City. They blackmailed me after mutilation and made wicked psychiatric pornography daring me to try and expose them. Wen and Funari worked through Melvin Belli’s Star Trek with the support of MisterRogers on the parochial cleansing. Oh, how they have lied. They say you can’t identify who they are from the indicators, like Spooragcrowhag RegoosterKerblownorg doesn’t know who she is.
Youssou N’dour nibbled his diamond Trump carrot snickering, “What’s up Doc,” as they raided our Social Security system, killed off our seniors and promised us awesome weapons in answer to dissent. Nobody’s gonna do nothing they’ll shoot you in the vampire book scene of Robin Lipscomb and Jeff Kennedy she gave you to read while you were not yet in puberty and still a virgin, because they had Ram plans for a rocket into the sun with little boy.
