On top of which, the following are photos of my mother's latest damage tomy immediate living quarters. Why? Because it's Emilia De Cristofaro Maffei's, job for Nazi False Jew whoremakers at 196-37/39 45th Avenue, the house perpetually misnumbered, on slats, 35/37. Yesterday she burst into my apartment sitting in my chair, saying it was hers, threatening me for calling the police on her latest break in, no sign of forced entry, which broke part of a table I was fixing for her other murderess friend, of Italian citizens since '45, to be specific, by the name of Filippa Gaetta, living at 189-49 45th Avenue, Flushing. Both are in the habit of stalking me. The goat fucking Old Salty pimp whore who lets her husband get plastic surgery to resemble an Israeli commander, same surgery on the younger Chechen of Boston marathon fame, now looks like a Citibank connected account closing would be Avigail, a Russo-German version, who at the bank is working closely with the Colonna, of the nazifascist X MAS of yore. They swore they would make me a whore, so they follow me, saying they know me, and etc.
I go to Waldbaums at 8:00AM yesterday? The goat fucking whore, who lets her husband rape a kid while plotting to takeover the States as I work in the garden follows me there, crossing my path;
I'm at the supermarket at 3:00PM today? She arranged an incident with a new hire, a "Jen", so that the latter would call the manager. She came in, and stood by the counter while I was explaining that I had bought the produce yesterday, not a month ago, like Jen told him. I also told him he needs to report Old Salty since she has no right to insinuate I'm her business by stalking me, which fucking infuriates me for how much others may be intimidated by the same technique and harmed by it.
For the whores at 28, the same address, having a relationship with a Jew is a blood sport. I don't know them, and I'm tired of these trash shit fucks minding my business, as if listening to Shostakovic in my private apartment, at no blaring level was theirs. If they know anything about me it's from trespassing and stalking. I don't even know their fucking names. They make me so sick I can't even stand to look at them.
Lately, I've suffered hundreds of dollars of damage,which I'm detracting from my rent, the grossest trash was finding a pair of espadrilles, to peopleish for them and not whorish enough because flat, full of exfoliated skin and greasy black in between the toes pieces of gunk, stuck to the inside soles with great insistence in the right shoe, less in the left. I disinfected them and scubbed them, I don't want to leave them a goddamn thing. I also found, in the past, a pair of socks in my drawer, stiffened on the tip, with mucus pieces attached to them. Who the fuck would associate with filth like this who handles trash like that? On top of which I always find my refrigerator with small pieces of dirt in it, black, a collection of onion skins, as if the actual onions had disappeared, leaving behind only the outer skin, stains, cuts between cabinets and walls, chair leg padding tilted up, the rim of the toilet dirty, under it the same, black gunk in the inside of the shower, even though I dry it every single time I take a shower.
I have never in my life witnessed such filth. My mother and her family changed in the '90's, completely.
The photos are to be viewed from the bottom up, in terms of time of occurrence. The top one would be the last one, with my recycling bins stored where they always are, after I cleared the area. They're also trying to prove that I don't recycle or prepare the trash according to regulations, which I do, so they can imply there's something wrong with me to supporting witnesses. I always do: I use dark bags for trash, blue for recyclables, clean, and with weight and considerations in terms of packing as well.
The open doors also show her insistence that those closet areas need to be open, when she says and wants regardless of their being in my apartment's area. She also removed a security door to make her access easier, and wanted a lock for the closet with the chair in it, which I removed, installing a regular closet handle, with no lock, since my apartment gets broken into, hers only if she needs to claim I did.
I'm at East Flushing library, and the supervisor is discussing P2 naziterrorist satanic loggia, connected to Gelli, saying as if this were a dank hidden place where no public traffic like me occurred:
" (...) if the loggia goes low (...)".They think I'm impressed with the impression that the whole world is a Nazi paranoia? I can't fucking wait until this comes to a fucking head.These stupid, stupid childfuckers.
Picture above, the clean up, being done by me, placing my recycling bins in the closet area immediately outside my apartment, where I store the recycling in bags until it's time to bring them out. I try to do so close to pickup time, if not the nazifascist neo con slavist trash goes through them, for curio hate reasons, it seems. I tried bins outside, the top always vanishes, and the cans are bashed in. Same for glass torage containers. Tops always awhol. Why is not forme to speculate, but to report.
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