"Il tricco piu' pulito che ci sia anche perche' non intaschi niente, intaschiamo io e la mia famiglia" Emilia De Cristofaro Maffei, Maria e Ben Leon;
"I want my neighborhood here to be totally nazifascist , then to Bayside, then we take over the world" Alessandra Mussolini.
So, local cops, 111, Queens and my mother seem to arrange a system where they warn nazifascist neo confederate abusers, lately older women, since Ben Leon thought he'd keep the competition for himself, and claim I'm into my mother, living in my apartment as her dog. This is how it works: a local relay is created as to when I scratch my ass, which is then conveyed to the interested parties, who walk on by abusing, for them without any risk, or, just to enjoy the thrill of a racist chase.
I step out at about 2:00PM?
Here's what happens. My mother's car pulls up almost immediately, she tells me not to take license plates down, and then stalks me up the block, parking as I observe traffic forming, in a residential area, at this ungodly hour.
This is what I get for a drop of used clothing at a nearby collection box, affiliated with environmental concerns:
a light drizzle catches an older Asian woman and a toddler waiting for me, making noise, at the outside of my door, hissing " shut up about this, or..." they head from the backyard of 27, incorrectly marked 25, and plummet into the driveway of 21,also incorrectly marked. I speculate as to who is Chinese of the two, but not for long.
A male Asian from who knows where, surreptitiously appears with a white shopping bag and what resembles a manila envelope, to remind me of my racial guilt in miming Tagalog, a Marilla Palmer contact, who informs her that yes, I'm still seeing if he's accessing my apartment as he ambles down my street.In full response, a turquoise 60's something model vehicle, sent on the express Spy v Spy mission by an Eagle's Nest aficionado of my mothers' in Florida, who finds it hard to hide her true feelings about Italians, Paula Hendricks, drives by at bier speed, in case the tires slip on the drizzle and mar the not for them to mar asphalt.
Older women in short gray haircuts reminding one not of Monroe, but of Mc Carthy, Eugene shoot out from houses nearby:
One from the corner of 196th and 45th, another from the North East area of same, a third heading West on 45th, all at 1:45PM. They came to oogle at my Frida Kahlo -who?- button.
A car pile up ensues:
a NISSAN cop special NY DFG 386 (missed last digit, possibly a 5 );
Tonto, in NY FZL 7433;
a street corner pickup nurse walks by in maroon, holding an umbrella for an Asian woman, since the message here is I can't marry to hold an umbrella for a non Asian woman, posing as my mother, to stress how undutiful I simply am, and what the consequences will be;
as they walk West on 45th, a UPS delivery man lands for 27. I ask him if the address is marked 25, he says yes;
As I stand by my house, NY EXS 2573 pulls up for the house next door, about thirty-five to forty feet away, and, embracing an LG TeeVee in the steadily increasing drizzle, a male youth, believing himself to be handsome, delivers it to 39, still listed incorrectly as 37, but on movable slats. A whore opens the door, her eyes beaming luminously at the set, lips folded into an appreciative smile.
Cars, as look out presences:
NY GAD 3539;
A cop SUV, paying abeyance in flat characters, in an apparent NY HAIREKIN;
And,
strategically placed:
NY DSL 9684, in case you needed to recall there may be jobs around to fuck student loan recipients over, like they did me;
and
NY BWX 9812.
Carrying my donations in a Hello Kitty bag elicited its own variation of precipitousness:
A Greek Swedish meatball smorgasboards in magenta and black printer ink from the steamer's captain quarters, directly in front of Saint Nicholas, from 4314 A, where I've always seen Asians, if one were to say, say, Asians;
On my way back, a woman, in desperately disappointed overweight Susan drags two small children along, without the aid of an umbrella; For that matter, other triplets consisting of two adults, and a younger, did quiver in a half stomp on the avenue, without a parapluie;
An intercept, organized at the East Flushing Library, where children are seen as adorable little tikes by a beckoning heroin dealer turned librarian, clambered into a car listed as NY FFF-8515;
A woman, for no perceivable reason, was running back to her alcoved, imaginary bay window from way down the corner, runs to its side entrance, and hides spiritually in the bushes, waiting for the bridge to lift. No car in sight to symbolize transportation, legs worked well enough. I've seen small children skeet toward that direction when I went on late night walks, the reigning deity forbid!
The intercept dragging two children by the arms was arranged by Iolanda Tozzi, an estranged cousin of mine, who has been a spy for my mother for as long as I can remember, including giving her a letter I asked her to mail to a partner, whose angry words at my father and mother brought about my head being banged in ceramic tile repetitively by my mother, along with one day in which she chose to alter both my haircut and clothing to match hers, until she would drive me crazy, like Good Ole Benito would, shaking and baking my personality to her pleasing until I conformed to aluminum loaf pans. Self same cousin, believes, and firmly, that her husband is a state policeman, and she graduated from a Milanese University in law. Her other cousin, Sandra (not a family name) Marzella, who also cannot be traced by her vocation at her hospital of choice, will endorse that check. This blast from the past was to create a situation in which my password to this blog could be stolen: I've been having trouble with facebook lately, and I've had to change this password twice in two days.
Addenda, as for increased local area initiatives: A relative of Samantha Bee's ski'd out of a local winery after she 'd arranged for my bill not to be paid by the same account she tried to defraud me out of $40.00, just to prove I was hopelessly evil and a dead beat, based on a canned heat addiction, sometime in the future.
7th Generation is going racist through Maria Leon, and 28 on 196-45th, who had a relative surveil what alternative I may solicit, since, lately, there has been an odd traffic of Nazi cannibal Indian Dutch loyalist maidens waiting to be reborn, and to start money laundering through their own purchases, since they'll break into load mine with gunk due to the liquid nature of soap products, with the security seal removed even from its supermarket shelves, just to give the idea of future possibilities, 'cause I don't deserve it, being an alien race.
The last attack can be summarized into a Norman Rockwell holograph walking on 45th, after staring at me through her bluettes, protected by her plastic lenses, with the male polyandrist gaze from 36 hanging for dead life to his wife's lawn, to pin it to the ground, until all celebrities come to roost in his she male's, but not quite's, mouth. The same one that American dreams of murdering an Italian, and moving to live in one of the more genteel versions of the Carolinas.
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