RUNNING AN ERRAND: AND YOU THINK CHAPLIN WAS JOKING?
(All spelling mistakes their inability to let go: learn from them, it's organizational)

8:35AM. Tapiero team as lookouts at the deli and a bandannaed accumulation at the bus stop, on 47th and Francis Lewis boulevard, the woman a bandannaed emaciated Mr. Magoo in black, the male young and colored with something Hispanic. She gets off alone at the same stop I do, at 48th and Bell Boulevard, and tries to start a fight with me. I say yeah, call an ambulance and your cops while you're at it;

I buy a hammer to replace the one they stole from my utility drawer after they claimed I used it against them to have me abducted to a psychiatric hospital. The stealing was supposed to be an polite intimation that I must do their will, and drink human swill because they say so. I'm too working class to understand this and it frustrates them. They are remostrating downstairs because I'm so uncultured.

8:45AM. Tapiero team and the 27 now adhesive 25 no fine in sight Asian mucus lickers stalking me at 46 Rd and Bell Boulevard;

8:46AM. Lauren Sage indicates thorugh the police provided amplification an older white haired man in his 60's,70's "that's my man for you if you feel so inclined". The man, visible from behind (genocide of Italians the motivation, meaning me dead) is wearing a green slatted top (murder of families arranged in nazi mock houses in some private company owned land far, far away but accessible through jet skis, a concentration camp smack in the middle of some desert, or an artificial lake with heavy waters, or stuck on a wall of rock with no road access,not even Rapulzel's tresses, or would be military boats with decomposition rooms, or what have you, or Presbyterian cathedrals rebuilt, or Tibetan Aztec temples stuck in the middle of cemetery  isolated from civilization so unaccessible just to give themselves a challenge). This on Bell Boulevard and 46th Avenue. The black slacks are night break ins, no sign of forced entry. Everybody is using Judith and an excuse and 36 will arrange it. Reference to single numbers are the houses on 196 Street and 45th Avenue, the house numbers being on 45th.

PS: I've had to correct copy at least 5 times due to stupid nazi confederate hackers for the destruction of the United States and the ripristination of slavery.

8:47AM. A Walton of the Walmarts-Patton Southern Confederate paraded a backpack (the fat Ken doll variant they kindly bestow on us at night, anything with any reference to bags, as an abduction to a brothel, grafts of dead flesh and prosthetically administered false suicides) same area as I take notes, a lavender shirt, black slacks.

8:48AM. 27 again, driving off in old New York plates FPZ-2270, on Bell and 46th Avenue.

8:49AM. A bike on the sidewalk simulates running me over. A 27 in white supremacist rides it. This at 45th Dr. and Bell Boulevard.

8:50AM. police car drives by to quick for me to record the plates and amplifies the message "no, they're not stalking her." The car heads South on Bell Boulevard (there's a team of Ed IV ghouls posing as librarians at the Bayside library there ready for any evenience, in particular real children. This on the same block of the 111 precinct, where my bike was stolen, some time ago. I reported it, they said they would probably not find it, this being New York and all) and proudly announces, as  a done deal: "In my circles I'm known as the Enforcer. I work for Daniels and Rice."

8:54AM. Tapiero team as I walk to where I'm going.

8:55AM. Arab male in black and red (the proud emissary of an Italian Anarchist trade unionist murderer in New York as a quota for the Austro Hungarian empire, our enemy in World War One, or, an Anastasio, spoke in Arab on the cell phone-false arrest prison house abductions to the South, but ritual sacrificing by the pious shawled. The man intimates I head to the 111 and "you go there for carol Anastasio and file a false complaint if not I'll say you do". I'm for unions, and our side in World war One and Two, so this arrangement seems a bit far fetched and I continue on my merry way, with an omnipresent Nissan around. Area: Bell and BNorthern. The Precinct rises on the South East after three days. So I get the insight that my mother's family arranged for Carol Anastasio to interfere with me as a student at Queens College, when it was still white and blue, in 1982. Maybe it was the year, and the following Jonathan Buschbaum turned into JoBu BagelNosh ChristmasTree.

8:56-9:05AM. All hell breaks loose because I dare buy America Oggi and La Repubblica, which corresponds to me buying the New York Times. The store in question reads Te Amo Cigars outside, but the receipt prints SAI GROCERY INC.211-12 Northen Blvd, Bayside, NY 11361 tel 718.279.3044, the Old New York telephone exchange, which, in Italianate, could mean, You Know. Now, there's a paucity of resales of the paper in the area, so I'm forced to go there. This time, the Indian whore goddess related to Edward the IV by brothel and cloning rings up one receipt claiming I gave her $500.00, followed by another claiming I gave her $2.00, followed by a third marked INVOICE # 39033, under which is written, indented one space to the right: Closed to Cash Purchase, or, slave economics, where she finally does not Braille the correct amount I gave her, which was $5.00. She called my remonstrating for the correct receipt (she offered not to give me a receipt at all for the trasaction, which I politely refused) "scolding". As I was in the store, a black and white clanned African related to yesterday's events involving Bin Laden and Granelle, and the common key for an endless display of door locks, was spying on me for Condalisa Rice, who descends from the Bowery Boys a Confederate Gang that overran Lower Manhattan and created false trials and court houses to destroy the Union, for one instance of how constitutional they are. She intimated:" She buys the paper here! That means she's with the gangsters!", followed by a proud "see who we organize here?". As soon as I walk out, a Ford CXG 7621 white van with windows and a sticker with a fish on the bottom corner of the right back window pulls up, in a hurry to slam me in it, and accesses the white and black plumbing store, next to the SAI business, which also has next to it a WHITE WEDDING store also in white and black, hint hint. The store, for fishmaker Rice, the carve up whore, was address 211-20 Northern Boulevard, tel. 229.8330. In front  of the stores is a cellar metal door on the sidewalk, coverd with a rubber Blimpie rug, of the toilet floor variety that collapses in front of a restaurant toilet, so you break a leg, Rice amputates the thigh at a certain length and applies it to your neck with sideway black something fish eyes, just vbecause you're a nice person, and that's too much for Rachel Maddow's batting eyelashes to bear. remember that Blimp is fat, and I have a tourist money pouch simulating genderlessness by my pubic area for the time being. And this without being abducted to a brothel at all, the service a reminder of doctors making housecalls, but not quite. The van's instructions by Condalisa Rice was "we'll say she filed the complaint" and my mother's family ("AH!" Finally acknowledging their connections, their importance, and their filth. See? staying away has its faults. But then what is a swill gobbler supposed to do?).

Condalisa Rice has an in with slave unions, and wants to parade them before me, before us, the world being what it is, alas. Now the world is whole foods again.

9:05AM. I'm followed by a 27, other tenant and 111 cop parallel step backpacker, who crosses Northern when I do, and because I do.

An orange sporty car full with smiling mad 27s tries to run me over where Whoopi Goldberg brother in dreads car tried yesterday: Bell veering to the West on Northern, and I think, funny wan't the Japanese rising sun yellow? What are they Northern Irish coolies? license plate 2LBJ20, or the Empire State building recent slaughter, where a Di Salvo was murdered for working honestly and being Italian, listed as a Johnson, and set up with a would be shootinst, a would be victim, and would be stand-bys all abducted and murdered in a stage set by the building my father inaugurated by not so nice cops, who straved them and forced them to eat shit before hand, for fun. Mary Mittler intervenes and says that that's what they do to people who don't follow confederate rule, and who are "recent" immigrants. Her address is 48-63 211th Street, Bayside Hills, Queens New York, 11364, should you feel like sending a sympathy card to a 9/11 terrorist, right here, right now, smack in the middle of New York, when we're in Afghanistan fighting their allies, the Taliban. you can visit her for living in a tiny Tudor. Someday she'll return to her pigsty to have piglets suck at her nipples, and be happy, at long last.

9:07AM Second abduction attempt. Another accumulation of nonsense at the bus stop. What am I doing at the bustop? At Bell and Northern.

9:09AM A tractor trailer delivering mattresses to a furniture store by the stop, license plate 20004-JZ simulated delivery by two brown metal doors, the right open (hence Entry Two Door) ,which, on a closer exploration, yielded nothing but metal dumpsters lining its left side, meaning what?

9:11AM. What are you doing on the bus? Two nurses, no hospitals in the area, clamber on the bus at the Bayside LIRR stop. The ticket takers, ever since I've been riding the line always try to swipe my ticket away from me, just to be able to prove, should th eoccasion rise, that I'm a salmon swimming upstream with dead pieces attached to me as a would be thief. In England they were pretty strict with them: they were hung. Now you see what they stole. I usually print a receipt and always have to ask for the ticket back, as a matter of course.

9:13AM. More Tapiero harassment organized through bus amplication, to imply us being indissoluble. I mean, they claim I know them and associate them: I mean, when I didn't know about them I couldn't stand them and kept away, imagine now. A Singh from LIJ Psych Hospital abduction Division is invariably female, and invariably on the bus. The female edition of slavery that has recently been accumulated in 911 chimes in:"See we slaves get to stay women, because we generate them. If not we get sutured. And who wants that? No we don't want that. With the world being what it is. (Elicited emotion: melancholia. They smear black shoe polish on your face at night, during their break ins, in a trance, for Madga Goebbels circles after halfing the child, HAR DELIVER) Oh? I don't see anything wrong with it? See, that's  my owner" then simulates a point in the sky, and overall sorriness, then, regardless of whether you believe them or not, they lunge for your right breast to extinguish you as a Ritz.

9:15AM. The nursing team finally make my first name and speak in Italianate. One looks like the Squid of England, also Queen of FinnBundt, and is a Spenser whore (see what DiDi was up to? Kapplerizing the world.), the other has an elongated face, with a touch of Edward the fourth. I look around and the bus hosts a Spanish Bourbon Great Jones building bird.

9:17AM The bus and its inhabitants (what am I doing on the bus?) is a genocidal contract operating as racial throwbacks (you're dead because you eat pizza) for and through the birth of the American Nazi party, since the number in adhesive on the same is 6058, the year of the birth being 59.

9:20AM. carol Anastasio is amplified saying" Alex we see you as dead weight in society" An old New York license plate zooms by stuck on the bus: R 13387, followed by a bus nowhere close to it as it was at my stop before, same bus, but with a white and blue license plate (nazi concentration camp triangle colors for immigrants) reading L20739, so the endemc 79 must be connected to places that organize by abducting to camp, returning alone, then abducting again. Williams of the Jon Stewart show is saying too much again. She's involved in the same "prize capture" relay down South. 3 maybe being a reference to believers in God, the trinity, Irish, overall, so Saint Nick's.

9:23AM. A man, Euro, walk slowly before me. (What are you doing in a mall?) I just stop. Another tries to intersect me on a transversal from my left. I move away.Carol Anastasio announces her alliance with Chase, and she will use my account to money lauder, whether I like it or not. So will Monica Cunningham, who's announcing it now, "so will all the Nazis I know. Amen." I think, they're still stuck in 1942. I just shat black and scaly after eating my mother'smeatballs yesterday.    Considering I drink fruit juices, and eat light, this is also unjustifiable. Whatever France Rame wants from a Nazi, Franca Rame gets. Translate her name as Freed slave! Then Copper! or working class, and you get why she needs the proximity. It's a matter of lust for her. that and Chilean copper mines.

My mother has broken wood pieces in the garage. 32 thinks they can place them there, and we trhow them out by creating a sense of complicity. I have nothing to do with them, and won't store or help them dispose of their damage. That must be where the wood beams by my door have gone, substituted by pressed cartboard. Touching, isn't it?

9:24AM. A Security mall cart drives by me. Verboten to buy food. Anastasio makes the money laundering threat after they put put by. At Chase, I'm followed by a lauren Sage, June Rossi and a Frances Martell, spy, for now in plastic surgery, in the future who knows. Thanks! They say. Finally American,fainally a fez.

9:31 at Chastity. 1st transaction attempt lists transaction denied, in view of a brighter future for myself.I try another machine, the transaction goes though and the world is a better place, even at Chase.

On my way toward the supermarket (What are you doing in the mall? This for the past twenty years.) a Gray Nissan GBC-2529 heading South West is intersected by a blue ESW 5720 heading South East, ending in CWW 3522 heading North.  I think June did dad in at work and heart problems and her mother in with a false breast cancer diagnosis with the help of Confederates. During the amplification, she boast about the jobs. She knows I write this, she hops on cop pop.

In the supermarket I discover Carol Anastasio's true love is a dumpy Queen Victoria new Kappler (Di Spencer...pence sire.On my way back, I found two pennies one slightly slided over another on the far right seat of a three subdivided bus bench. They could also be murdering police officers that aren't offshoots.) who could have invented the Aztecs for her fun in the ziggurats in Mexico. Someone is flashing a light in my direction to prove what? That this is a house? Where will they build the Nazi mock (France Rame is on a hunt for the CIA with her charge tit sucker, out here. Who would have ever thunk?) is a good question. Where do they build New York mocks? Maybe the abduction areas symbolized in that extended orbital arch placed on a horizontal on some products. An open umbrella? Citibank's arch? If that's true, it is their recent police substitution and Squawk of Squaws of EinLung arrangement.

9:32AM. Some Bourbon and whore mix for all the malice in them were spying on my purchasing Vitamin B products. They ammassed at the cereal aisle with their sucked and obliging tit of choice. The skids outside is shouting because I'm paranoid if I think he's a hacker contact. They wear tiered skirts (us abducted to the Dust Bowl for being late 1800's immigrants) and the other a slatted shirt (for being a nice Midwestern family). Whoresun mumbles as I leave "Ale I will drive you cwazy". The De Cristofaro in Italy try to convey that it was them making me well known to aristocratic dreg pig fuckers.

9:46AM. Try bying a bagel. You get Tibet as a Sofia Loren Mussolini Thailand cemetery staliking, then Edward the IV, then a Tu Dort, then Victoria on a leg errand.And the bagels are menacingly priced .69 centavos. Out of work we go.

9:49AM David (Patton Lancaster the Thin, by way of the Confederacy) and his faithful steed, the Hesse Daniels idiot who harassed me non stop in Valley Stream calling me a racist weeped at the thought of food stamps, altering the formation (where did you get your Waldbaum card) with the speedy abduction macher Hesse-Daniels splitting by going on  a strike from bagging (they later gave me a whole bag for the bagel, only one, not doubled, to match my one bagel purchase) . I was hit several times on my bag, one way past, one way back, the next past, then a blonde with curls and rabid eyes (only they stay at home because they're married for being KKK. Everybody else is stuck in a mine.) who calls me 'bag'. So off with someone else's genitals, to be sown to my tourist purse crotch, which, come to think of it, was a present of my cousing Lilli Cavallo, estranged because she drove me to distraction for the whole vacation with her constant bitching, bitching and bitching, and now, truth revealed, imagine when I'll see her. Frank Marzella arranged a contract with this David to "please break in and poison her, switch her food until she comes here to eat me". Again, living in a dream world.

9:53AM. Frank Marzella is broadcast to the world as saying:"Alex I'll say you're sadistic to get out of it myself" meaning: he'll have me murdered, claim it's a false suicide (filling me with Deus ex Machina piecework so it looks like I'm stabbing my own eye out). The team agrees. Police chime in to insist on their lack of support of Human Resource Administration. The mayor, a Van Eick clothes collector after impregnation, supports the annihilation of three hundred dollar monthly rent checks for the New York City area. David at register number 9 organizes against my reporter notebooks. My mother or someone saying daughter of mine claims I killed my father, and sends Patrizia Sammartino after me on a Berlusconi play to arrange for my own heart operation. Her sister's face clambers on the bus, and so does a Tibetan's followed by another with curved lower legs to symbolize gender altering and dead human meat sucking. There's a Bologna face, who turns out to be an Atkinson Rand, the one in Washington a Mott bird as an ornamental facade on the Great Jones building. A Marilla Palmer or Murray Hill Dahlmer or Monica Cunningham or Granelle in a younger version is busy threatening me and feeding coin to a tall parking meter on Bell, and she finds it opportune to start shouting right about now. I'm really not like you at all, comes to mind. I mean, shout at me like that in a warzone I'll fucking shoot off your face. There's a Chamberlain Petain on the bus who bats her eyes like Rachel Maddow, the police get protection money from the Anastasio, and at home I find Italian liquid shoe polish in the kitchen, nero, for black, and two upside down yellow apples, which my mother never eats. Franca rame wants to go back to her pig farm she left since she was three where she sucked pig's dick until it fell off in her mouth. What the hell she did with her son is an incognita.Tiny little cops? One big tiny little cop?

A hundred feet long grounded electric cable costs 45 or so dollars at Posner's on Bell and 48th, with the 50 length costing 42; metal hammers about 30 dollars, while fitted about 10. Murry Mottled or Mary Mittler starts shouting afuckingain, because they said I paid for a contract on Marta Tapiero when all I did was not waste time to go to Home Depot because as I started at about 9:00Am, it's now 2:20 PM thereabouts, and do I ever resent it.

I
did
not
leave
this
space
blank
.
Whoever
did
is
a
pure
unadulterated
piece
of
filth
to
bother
interfering
with me.
Let that also be for the space below that cloned instantly in the same proportion as the one filled, for whatever reason they have. I'll return to check the spelling later. In the meantime if you see their brudder on the road, shoot her.

Forgot to add:

As soon as I got to the height of 45th Avenue, 37-39 incorrectly marked 37-35, the female, contacted her organized cars to signal me as returning home.

While I was upstairs, the Tapiero either jimmied my lock open or have a key. I have no idea. When I went downstairs, the lock was open.

Also, I found the LIRR tickets where I had placed them, but for some reason I was inder the impression they should have been elsewhere.