Monday, March 31, 2014
New shelter?
I'm listed as Denise Levine, staff refused to have me sign returning sheet, bed roster, and the bunk bed, I'm the bottom, can comfortably fall on the sleeper without harming the supporting structure.
The bed above fits inside the structure so as to easily collapse onto the lower bed and its support is held in place by a thin strip of solder (LEGA-Italian fascist concealed party). Only four screws hold the top bed in place by the corner post. Two have nuts, and of the other two, one is barely well inserted and neither have threads. There is also an open hole above one of the hooks with the smooth screws, meaning nothing intelligible. An alumni Queens college pen exploded by pressure on me just the other day, the bed may function on the same principle. It has a sticker reading Property of Basics Housing Inc. 33111 do not remove. It is also marked on the leg by a horizontal line identical to one seen at a store Gothic something, in the 30's, to blame a worker at a similar store where I lived, in Auburndale. The Lega may be committing genocide of moderate Italians and others in the Bronx through the nearby police task force building. There were more than four unexplainable Fire Department of New York ambulances near one another. A house I walked by yesterday on Ogden with slats, by 167th, light yellow, with a bodega under it, did not have a metal plate vacancy sign bolted to the exterior with no real estate company listed, only a telephone number. In a week, the Upper West Side changed many storefronts overnight along Broadway, from 110 down to 70.
Clients in turn spy on me blowjob Nazi orange division cops connected to the 111 Precinct as well, who stalk me asking what parruccone, as reported by La Repubblica, means through a Gonzales contact for the Chicago connection, claiming they will falsely arrest me as a terrorist because the newspaper covered the Red Brigades less than a week ago, can work it out with the shelter clients and had me stalked by their cheap 111 protected whores at Barnes and Nobles Starbuck's at Union Square to continue to slander me in public as a groupie, a mafiosa, anything but what I am so that my future is that of an informer.
A bitch is going back and forth to the bathroom all night since I started typing, this hours past, after she shut the lights off and luckily the talking wonder, the radio.
The clients know I stole a book, which I did not seems redundant a statement after twenty years. But I do fill houses still, so it never hurts.
Another roommate today said how she was wronged by society, while I was in the room: they need to stay conscious and gather a black mouths, nazicop blowjob team outside my door, because that way they can say that when they praised 9.11 and predicted another influx from inland, just today, I did it more.
Also: for Osama, a duo of euro females in their early twenties at Whole Foods, Bowery, made my name in the area to blame their insertion in FBI ranks on me.
Looks like a planned ethnic killing as well.
One also involving Dutch anti-Catholic sentiment, part of the slave, spice trade. And basics poisoning, droughts through channel for agriculture, such as in Egypt, coastal alterations by same.
They're shouting outside my door, "catholic", a "neger", get out, etc. I'm so far away from them, it's beautiful. If I die they'll never understand who I am. And I don't care. They also admitted to being Lega. That's what counts. My writing infuriates them. They must be infant rapists and child murderers, serials. They become furious when you don't do as they say. Today I was joking with an employee. A client came by started shaking her fist at me, saying only a man can talk to him, only her as well. I disregarded, and that only elicited fury. It's just fantastic to see one's hatred of injustice clearly connected to its origin, its reality. You feel completely justified in hating them, and you feel freer, stronger, and with such a clear head about things, it's the most beautiful state of being, it's blessed, it's like seeing the world in a perfect state of lucidity, clarity. There's nothing like staring at inhuman genocidal pigs in their eyes, in their faces, watching them be themselves, finally, the cover gone, the cover being completely different from who they really are. It reminds me of Paradise Lost, Milton's understanding of the transitions from deceipt to truth. Now sweetheart on the radio outside, by security, in Royal English Crown Nazi brothel hatred of green eyes scansion. Now it's quiet. My only wish is to bring as many f them as I can with me. Janet Napolitano hit the dust, so will they.
I have a rat scurrying behind my back, had one since I started typing. They actually sat next to me staring at the keyboard, taunting me with their cover that would let them spy on my passwords openly, enraged their brutality, their control does not determine what I do, be or say, that justice, equality, determine my actions toward myself and others instead. I haven't stopped typing because they have no right to stop me. That's the difference between unconstitutional and constitutional behavior. That's the difference I want them dead and gone for.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Sean Penn as a fascist less hard to take when a Madonna Ciccone, also relative of Karen Allen, is livin' it upon Grand Street claiming I'm her mother she'd like access to my things but stalks me on Canal. Takes an interest in mail. Then calls another mother on the cell saying it would have been easier dealing with me when I was at home with my mother. There, there she would have taught me manners!
At Spring Street Books on Mercer, by Bleecker where I was landed as having spoken to a Jew in my teens in a neighborhood in Italy by an American female fascist, or, confederate, Ezra Pound looks like Sean Penn with adolescential longish facial hair in a postcard of a turn of the century photograph in white and filmy grays.
The connection may be an attack on the actor by Casa Pound, a fascist organization in Italy. Pound, an early 20th century poet, was associated with new experimental writing, took an interest in Chinese characters, and gradually turned into a fascist in writing.
New York City Establishment Review:
Manhattan Mini Storage @ 2nd & 2nd, or 28 Second Avenue, New York NY 10003
The establishment has been busy lately carfumegassing though a connection from the parking area to the elevator clients that do not foment royal conquest or torture and cutting locks through their confederate ex New York government of yore Bowery Boy gang contacts, still visible in one employee's confusing revenge team resemblance to both Atlanta city limits and Sandra Bernhardt, in an effort to fling Italians meaning Europeans in general out of New York City like officer Dreyfus was almost thrown out of the French military for being Jewish, a big no.no for people like Emile Zola who defended him and, ultimately, won the fight. This during the times of Sarah Bernhardt, a fantastic contemporary actress photographed looking nothing like Sandra .
The establishment, notable for triumphing democratic policies of rental to attract a liberal crowd has been involved, through its employees, in rattling chains through people stashed in the storing units on the same floor an elevator arrives at but in an area completely different and impossible to reach from said; infiltrating spies with access keys to storage units in different states of disarray to inhibit success in small business ventures, and trying to claim through multiple testimonies landed in the area often in couples at different storage boxes that renters are restless and in need of instant ejection, let alone for a quick purvey of the goods stored they may claim as their own at a moment of ejection through a clearing after banned access to the premises through no fault of their own.
Today, "Sandra" worked on a customer by vocalizing on speakerphone for a conference call that had informed her of the customer's trajectory if someone needed some help, then specified with a Miss Mafia. This after having turned the card activating check in system off, for the second time. She then proceeded to shout if any help was needed to the texting client in the presence of a newly descended female, euro, from orange NY license plate FSE 6034, who she escorted to the storage access area door with her card. After that, one female, euro, accessed the storage area fine, a male tracked what the texter was doing, ensuring her card would not be activated, then accessed the are just fine, followed by another client having no access problems at all.
After that, when asked for a phone number to the venture, Atlanta Bernhardt Rand gave her two business cards with two names on them a woman and a man's, as employees. She asked if the telephone number was theirs or a general office one, and was overcome by one male client, then Bern's Rand started a chummy conversation with another, who would not allow me asking what the phone number was without interfering violently, both, still not answering the question, started saying I was not respectful enough as a whole. Afterwards Rand, Ayn in black drew her spectacle when the client tried to access the premises again, all euro, welcoming them warmly, come to see how the customer was inserting the card without it working at her comment at what a disgusting sight the customer was indeed .
The customer in turn filed a business complaint also covered by Manhattan mini mentioning a small storage space 48 dollars, then increasing the price to 70 something in less than an hour on the web page, and contacted local, national, and international agencies about such corteous behavior from a servant boy.
work in progress
Manhattan Mini Storage @ 2nd & 2nd, or 28 Second Avenue, New York NY 10003
The establishment has been busy lately carfumegassing though a connection from the parking area to the elevator clients that do not foment royal conquest or torture and cutting locks through their confederate ex New York government of yore Bowery Boy gang contacts, still visible in one employee's confusing revenge team resemblance to both Atlanta city limits and Sandra Bernhardt, in an effort to fling Italians meaning Europeans in general out of New York City like officer Dreyfus was almost thrown out of the French military for being Jewish, a big no.no for people like Emile Zola who defended him and, ultimately, won the fight. This during the times of Sarah Bernhardt, a fantastic contemporary actress photographed looking nothing like Sandra .
The establishment, notable for triumphing democratic policies of rental to attract a liberal crowd has been involved, through its employees, in rattling chains through people stashed in the storing units on the same floor an elevator arrives at but in an area completely different and impossible to reach from said; infiltrating spies with access keys to storage units in different states of disarray to inhibit success in small business ventures, and trying to claim through multiple testimonies landed in the area often in couples at different storage boxes that renters are restless and in need of instant ejection, let alone for a quick purvey of the goods stored they may claim as their own at a moment of ejection through a clearing after banned access to the premises through no fault of their own.
Today, "Sandra" worked on a customer by vocalizing on speakerphone for a conference call that had informed her of the customer's trajectory if someone needed some help, then specified with a Miss Mafia. This after having turned the card activating check in system off, for the second time. She then proceeded to shout if any help was needed to the texting client in the presence of a newly descended female, euro, from orange NY license plate FSE 6034, who she escorted to the storage access area door with her card. After that, one female, euro, accessed the storage area fine, a male tracked what the texter was doing, ensuring her card would not be activated, then accessed the are just fine, followed by another client having no access problems at all.
After that, when asked for a phone number to the venture, Atlanta Bernhardt Rand gave her two business cards with two names on them a woman and a man's, as employees. She asked if the telephone number was theirs or a general office one, and was overcome by one male client, then Bern's Rand started a chummy conversation with another, who would not allow me asking what the phone number was without interfering violently, both, still not answering the question, started saying I was not respectful enough as a whole. Afterwards Rand, Ayn in black drew her spectacle when the client tried to access the premises again, all euro, welcoming them warmly, come to see how the customer was inserting the card without it working at her comment at what a disgusting sight the customer was indeed .
The customer in turn filed a business complaint also covered by Manhattan mini mentioning a small storage space 48 dollars, then increasing the price to 70 something in less than an hour on the web page, and contacted local, national, and international agencies about such corteous behavior from a servant boy.
work in progress
The Everyday is a Kidnapping to a Plantation Trough Slavery Town Column
or, master's call, whistle C. C minor. B. E. audible since January 2014
111 Precinct and Gonzales at Queens College, discredit me again in public to have me their informer. Latest attempt: they will claim I'm a Brigate Rosse terrorist if I don't tell them what Italian senate leader Pietro Grassi meant by parruccone.
cont with photos
found under " Tony Gonzales photography chairperson at Queens College" images in google, on 3. 30.14 about 3.40.4.00PM rabid homophobia aiming a gun at Archibald here, the main lead in His Girl Friday, a fantastic and first screwball comedy referring to the intemperances with New Yorkers of economically vulnerable status, emotionally traumatized as well, to murder charges applied because of World War I US policy supporters by the Rockefeller administration in the governorship of the state of New York . The imaginific reference is to a clip of Cary Grant running out of the ocean with a cute swish. I also published this pic on my facebook account for inspiration, along with Rosalind Russell, his co star, and one of Carol Lombard because of her playfully ironic take on acting as in Her man Godfrey and Mr and Mrs Smith, not an action film like the Jolie.Pitt recreation at all.
or, master's call, whistle C. C minor. B. E. audible since January 2014
111 Precinct and Gonzales at Queens College, discredit me again in public to have me their informer. Latest attempt: they will claim I'm a Brigate Rosse terrorist if I don't tell them what Italian senate leader Pietro Grassi meant by parruccone.
cont with photos
found under " Tony Gonzales photography chairperson at Queens College" images in google, on 3. 30.14 about 3.40.4.00PM rabid homophobia aiming a gun at Archibald here, the main lead in His Girl Friday, a fantastic and first screwball comedy referring to the intemperances with New Yorkers of economically vulnerable status, emotionally traumatized as well, to murder charges applied because of World War I US policy supporters by the Rockefeller administration in the governorship of the state of New York . The imaginific reference is to a clip of Cary Grant running out of the ocean with a cute swish. I also published this pic on my facebook account for inspiration, along with Rosalind Russell, his co star, and one of Carol Lombard because of her playfully ironic take on acting as in Her man Godfrey and Mr and Mrs Smith, not an action film like the Jolie.Pitt recreation at all.
Here is Tony Gonzales with a scruffy beard, thinking he can pass as Trotsky's legitimate son with a scruffy beard and mustache in a happy moment, modeling halfway Arch, fully a photo of me I put on one of the facebook accounts he swarmed impossible friends on and stalked me with harassers everywhere I went to publish and comment, since Queens College City needs to be left at high noon by yours truly. He must've given up or expanded from flashing Michael Korda.
the saga continues
Saturday, March 29, 2014
New York City establishment review:
East 4th Street Copy Center @ 65 E 4th Street, NYC NY 10003
on Saturdays at about 4.05 the owner or employee is seized by a need to sit in front a computer screen, tell me in seeming.indian po box service is unavailable to me because I'm exportable as whatever someone of import wants me as to Mexico as a lower race, if I choose to carry their business card in red white and green, but available an eastward wave away at a store that displays those colors proudly in its sign and outside landscaping. When you copy the information he comes after you telling you loudly and repeatedly not to be selfish.
Lure: .03cent b&w copies
New York Restaurant client review
How better hair should behoove a sibilant
Moonstruck, on 5th and 2nd at about 4.08PM and on:
First batch a couple, she Asian, he Dutch spice girl trade, lodge a child on a seat who is as comfortable saying "blowjob" to her father and "ketchup" to an overly attentive waiter;
Second, a female with thin medium flat brown shouder length hair hinting at a commonality with intent as a sibilant habit in various apparitions, inhabiting the Barnett Portuguese branch on a global family tree is lamenting to her nomad.cheap conspiracy psychiatrist how she can't say Maffi in public, not yet. In rising spirits she mentions how she can get away with Leninist.
How better hair should behoove a sibilant
Moonstruck, on 5th and 2nd at about 4.08PM and on:
First batch a couple, she Asian, he Dutch spice girl trade, lodge a child on a seat who is as comfortable saying "blowjob" to her father and "ketchup" to an overly attentive waiter;
Second, a female with thin medium flat brown shouder length hair hinting at a commonality with intent as a sibilant habit in various apparitions, inhabiting the Barnett Portuguese branch on a global family tree is lamenting to her nomad.cheap conspiracy psychiatrist how she can't say Maffi in public, not yet. In rising spirits she mentions how she can get away with Leninist.
news of the filterings through a post leftist left within a post democracy represented, mostly by spies who years for castles and slaves:
Help 107 Shelter, at 237 W 107th Street a woman's intake shelter in Brooklyn, as Help USA, inspiring openmindedness through its inclusion of a Keith Haring drawing in its title has no hot water, an elevator patched with duct tape, has a Gonzales at Queens College Chairperson of the Art Department connected Social Worker that flings mucus bits to clients and asks them of they're mentally stable immediately afterwards, and triumphs her fascist boyfriend's beatings of her since they make her feel like a woman, thinks of all single women as stalkable through her organization and whores, is supported in its entirety by the social register work organization there, or Miss Josephs and Miss Russell, who transfer you out (me) as soon as you go to the Department of Homeless Services, are obstructed from representation, hell, even seeing another case manager by a Chase since another author, or Mosley, can write better blogs than you and says she'll return your calls or call you and never does when you're there to report misinformation and set ups by the same to claim you're in violation when you're not, and sets countless clients against you who get their mail delivered on the premises, a key to their room, can eat in their room, can stay after 8 in their room, and organize as soon as you step outside by shouting your name to passerbies who are there to insult and stalk homeless as a pastime, while you don't, featuring one harasser saying you do too much, you should let them do for you, it's unfeminine, women should be in brothels where maybe if someone likes them they can marry and then he and only he does for them and (Russell) : who could stand Keith Haring, I wear a neon yellow striped raincoat to "spot you" in public...God be praised!
president Obama announces to his steeple people that he wants me to be a community rape because he's seceded from representing democrats and with me that approach works best since he's declared an undeclared race war through my blog that could be a MMMmmm M! spy blog by Stamford class entertainer, Condalisa Rice, also tracks down hotspots and interrupts connections with this crew at the new shelter, a continuation of the old shelter, where I have synchronized swimmer roommates who wear coats when I may step out, lie down when I may do so, and futz with their lockers when I need to, much the same like the old roommate, Roxanne Massiah, at 316A, and the entire Garcia family, dropped dustballs like her room's dustballs by the MoMA staircase and had me followed by older women who would try to hit me while watching a film in the theater, also through the great collaborationist impulse of the staff and dug deep within my upper jaw to dangle my molar for George Bush through her text contact with Condalisa Rice.
Coat's back, huffing and puffing because I intimated leaving and chose to post instead; now the kind, little homeless woman asks me in a quaky voice something I don't even respond to, calling me "miss" to her mammy, forgetting that before she was discussing Italians as large cocks to unravel and reveal me, and now she's mysteriously addressing her cellphone and clambered on her bunk bed to better spy on the click my fingertips make on my laptop's-don't say it! They may spy on it! You'll betray the voting public that uses computers it's illegal if you vote! constituency crew like Angela Davis, who, not knowing me, has formed an opinion about me without even reading my blog, and since I'm not a TeeVee face, who'll miss me? just got into spying my password for Barack Obama because he and she are black enough to pass as democrats.
She's growling in her lair, the bunk, saying how if I say they'll transfer me upstate somewhere if I don't know my rights, or transfer me, what have you, and then I'll be dead, or a torture what have you. Yesterday the guard, another we are a family female, was checking to see if she could rile up a police van and kidnap me from shelter to shelter space until I reach Carneceria, Mexico. All for the amusement of her crowned superiors, of which she's a faithful servant.
Davis will testify how I could not possibly be a serious scholar, and so will Burstein, who arranged to have my paper stolen on survival in concentration camps. Hence the surround sound torture with the entire shelter staff in the dining area during lunch speaking as if I had gone to sleep and woken in confederate slave heaven. Who, who will believe me?
Help 107 Shelter, at 237 W 107th Street a woman's intake shelter in Brooklyn, as Help USA, inspiring openmindedness through its inclusion of a Keith Haring drawing in its title has no hot water, an elevator patched with duct tape, has a Gonzales at Queens College Chairperson of the Art Department connected Social Worker that flings mucus bits to clients and asks them of they're mentally stable immediately afterwards, and triumphs her fascist boyfriend's beatings of her since they make her feel like a woman, thinks of all single women as stalkable through her organization and whores, is supported in its entirety by the social register work organization there, or Miss Josephs and Miss Russell, who transfer you out (me) as soon as you go to the Department of Homeless Services, are obstructed from representation, hell, even seeing another case manager by a Chase since another author, or Mosley, can write better blogs than you and says she'll return your calls or call you and never does when you're there to report misinformation and set ups by the same to claim you're in violation when you're not, and sets countless clients against you who get their mail delivered on the premises, a key to their room, can eat in their room, can stay after 8 in their room, and organize as soon as you step outside by shouting your name to passerbies who are there to insult and stalk homeless as a pastime, while you don't, featuring one harasser saying you do too much, you should let them do for you, it's unfeminine, women should be in brothels where maybe if someone likes them they can marry and then he and only he does for them and (Russell) : who could stand Keith Haring, I wear a neon yellow striped raincoat to "spot you" in public...God be praised!
president Obama announces to his steeple people that he wants me to be a community rape because he's seceded from representing democrats and with me that approach works best since he's declared an undeclared race war through my blog that could be a MMMmmm M! spy blog by Stamford class entertainer, Condalisa Rice, also tracks down hotspots and interrupts connections with this crew at the new shelter, a continuation of the old shelter, where I have synchronized swimmer roommates who wear coats when I may step out, lie down when I may do so, and futz with their lockers when I need to, much the same like the old roommate, Roxanne Massiah, at 316A, and the entire Garcia family, dropped dustballs like her room's dustballs by the MoMA staircase and had me followed by older women who would try to hit me while watching a film in the theater, also through the great collaborationist impulse of the staff and dug deep within my upper jaw to dangle my molar for George Bush through her text contact with Condalisa Rice.
Coat's back, huffing and puffing because I intimated leaving and chose to post instead; now the kind, little homeless woman asks me in a quaky voice something I don't even respond to, calling me "miss" to her mammy, forgetting that before she was discussing Italians as large cocks to unravel and reveal me, and now she's mysteriously addressing her cellphone and clambered on her bunk bed to better spy on the click my fingertips make on my laptop's-don't say it! They may spy on it! You'll betray the voting public that uses computers it's illegal if you vote! constituency crew like Angela Davis, who, not knowing me, has formed an opinion about me without even reading my blog, and since I'm not a TeeVee face, who'll miss me? just got into spying my password for Barack Obama because he and she are black enough to pass as democrats.
She's growling in her lair, the bunk, saying how if I say they'll transfer me upstate somewhere if I don't know my rights, or transfer me, what have you, and then I'll be dead, or a torture what have you. Yesterday the guard, another we are a family female, was checking to see if she could rile up a police van and kidnap me from shelter to shelter space until I reach Carneceria, Mexico. All for the amusement of her crowned superiors, of which she's a faithful servant.
Davis will testify how I could not possibly be a serious scholar, and so will Burstein, who arranged to have my paper stolen on survival in concentration camps. Hence the surround sound torture with the entire shelter staff in the dining area during lunch speaking as if I had gone to sleep and woken in confederate slave heaven. Who, who will believe me?
Friday, March 28, 2014
Queens College, City University of New York scholarship and its ramifications:
1) "Terrorism by mind": Concept created brothel and resale the student population, along with colleagues, to confederate brothels to slough off the fat in New York City, leaving it for those who descend, racists, and, overall, coup d'etatist elements. An homage to Salem and Elias Kazan, for those with Jerry Seinfeld connections, including Jon Stewart, expanding into a bipartisan Ron Paul Rachel Maddow television, and those trying to break in, since the Peloponnesian wars, into the "system" as minorities.
Tony Gonzales, Chairperson of the Art Department in this country since 1492,and in various reincarnations in Italian televised newscasting as a guest appearance as a gender alterering tree, and in Pakistan as Betullah Me Sud, droned. He threw me out of a 9/11 recruiting class as cheap cannon fodder by claiming I, a professor, filled students with fear, and needed to leave "seats" for younger students. He gave A work in photography a B;
Jonathan Buchsbaum, Media Studies professor, connected to the original group that tried to off me for racial justice, Goebbels style, just for attending college. The resentment accumulated into a murder attempt because my father, also from their area in town, did work for a living.The stage was set by Paul Polivko, Carol Anastasia of the Anastasia crime family, Maria Leon, who donated as lures a book by Pablo Neruda and one by Arthur Conan Doyle, in case I discriminated by race, and, as an apparition, Ayn Cassola, from the pages of Italian publishing, who was there for the hit with the last name of an author, continued by Elan Portnoy, another tree hater and character from a novel, to be followed, a good 30 years later, by a Baskerville at the East River HRA who had my casework handmaidened by security throughout, did not give me any paperwork at the end of it, asked me questions that made no sense to the case, and has not issued payment hoping to eBay my storage. Buchsbaum, also altering my grade in the class this group accumulated from an A into a B, claiming I needed to go to the registrar to correct this without his paternity proclaimed,me, the creator of Queens College's Film Club, and a person he witnessed many times at the cafeteria with Leon, a Gonzales also, and AKA Cassola, and invited downtown, along with them. One would assume, his name is in the orticultural variety as well, meaning book tree, since money grows not on Jacobin, or US revolutionary calendars, but on the offing of the same through a klan connection who also committed intellectual theft by naming months honoring unsettling emotions;
Another philosophy professor, with one son in the military and with another on Broadway served for the cover.up by inviting me to gatherings as long as the group was functional, then dropping me as a hot potato when Polivko tried to kill me, figuring the 111 refusing to even take a complaint was good going enough. He now dismisses information I gathered, altering radically the study of the death of a minister who plotted against Hitler, not only not worthy of comment, but also trumped by a sniffle, since his wife is sniffling too, and could I leave, as soon as I mentioned what I had discovered, after being greeted by the good wish for an ambulance in a paranoid continuation of a hand holding gesture Buchsbaum used when parting with me when I recently went to investigate how he has no recollection of me, Leon, and in particular, the Anastasia family.
Orthodox Jewish students organized immediately after the colloquium to damn me through a ped marriage to ennoble the race whorehouse deal, destroy citizenry, and a non descent easy hit since family members are all involved in the same pro slavery Nazi collaborationist trash by conspiratorial whisperings from an ugly skintone nylon orthodox clad female, to two maled contemporary, then rounded off by a woman swathed in a considerable djellaba because she looks like their slave. relative and in the Middle East they'd know.
A Conference at the Graduate Center on Social Justice statistical data gathering, led, by the time I got there, by another face connected to the Philosophy Department during the Anastasia Anno Zero startoff, a Heideggerian scholarly position trade off, to give my future employ not to a Husserl, but a Dollfuss through the divine intervention of a pornography and affairs ring. In a class loaded by Maria Leon's compulsive chortling voice, and table cloth plan shits, she gave us no statistical data listings, showed us how she sent emails on data on Connecticut towns and race to who knows what address, with an exhibitionist's titter, and how good she was at pushing buttons, so much so that after I while I started reading The Advocate. This starting at 6.30 in C.196.03 in the library at same yesterday. This coordinated by the elongated CUNY Board all George Wilbur fans since I don't deserve to teach for the same reasons Husserl did not thanks to an intercession by a crew that will say I'm racist because Husserl was a Jew and Philip Roth, who the assistant hair in philosophy studied with, the author of Portnoy's complaint, or an Olimpian Xantippe of his own, is a much, much better writer than I can hope to be.
This of course expands to the shelter, where my roommate is a plant communicating with Jon Stewart, and no matter how much I give weekly paperwork to the director of social services and her assistant since we worked out a situation orally in which Gonzales's relative, a mucus flinger in denial, was rescinded access to me, she issued a reminder of an appointment slip yesterday followed by a failed appointment meet sheet detailing how I was in full violation. The caseworker at Department of Homeless Services claimed would call, and never did, and my roommate here is in a collusion with Brooks at The New York Times to detail how I read the newspaper like a "customer" and plans on extracting my teeth for Bush's ornamentalia. I can't even speak without a molar they're working on moving in my mouth. Urban Justice on its hand so far has claimed case workers are lawyers and redden at me for not descending and presenting my case when Gonzales' team members do a better job organizing them while I'm there at a meet, exposing their side of even the HRA plight. Coalition for the Homeless much the same.
The roommate, by the way, is in the room, on her text machine, under a blanket, way past shelter closing hours, which I'm violating, if one were to be anal, and which she does, for as long as I'm here. Busy transcribing everything I do, including my dress to Robocop for the King Bush Plantation in the future. For now it's a measly non airconditioned Texan ranch, but he needs to parallel democratic success stories for a yellow and black Hapsburg interf*d plan so it works out.
1) "Terrorism by mind": Concept created brothel and resale the student population, along with colleagues, to confederate brothels to slough off the fat in New York City, leaving it for those who descend, racists, and, overall, coup d'etatist elements. An homage to Salem and Elias Kazan, for those with Jerry Seinfeld connections, including Jon Stewart, expanding into a bipartisan Ron Paul Rachel Maddow television, and those trying to break in, since the Peloponnesian wars, into the "system" as minorities.
Tony Gonzales, Chairperson of the Art Department in this country since 1492,and in various reincarnations in Italian televised newscasting as a guest appearance as a gender alterering tree, and in Pakistan as Betullah Me Sud, droned. He threw me out of a 9/11 recruiting class as cheap cannon fodder by claiming I, a professor, filled students with fear, and needed to leave "seats" for younger students. He gave A work in photography a B;
Jonathan Buchsbaum, Media Studies professor, connected to the original group that tried to off me for racial justice, Goebbels style, just for attending college. The resentment accumulated into a murder attempt because my father, also from their area in town, did work for a living.The stage was set by Paul Polivko, Carol Anastasia of the Anastasia crime family, Maria Leon, who donated as lures a book by Pablo Neruda and one by Arthur Conan Doyle, in case I discriminated by race, and, as an apparition, Ayn Cassola, from the pages of Italian publishing, who was there for the hit with the last name of an author, continued by Elan Portnoy, another tree hater and character from a novel, to be followed, a good 30 years later, by a Baskerville at the East River HRA who had my casework handmaidened by security throughout, did not give me any paperwork at the end of it, asked me questions that made no sense to the case, and has not issued payment hoping to eBay my storage. Buchsbaum, also altering my grade in the class this group accumulated from an A into a B, claiming I needed to go to the registrar to correct this without his paternity proclaimed,me, the creator of Queens College's Film Club, and a person he witnessed many times at the cafeteria with Leon, a Gonzales also, and AKA Cassola, and invited downtown, along with them. One would assume, his name is in the orticultural variety as well, meaning book tree, since money grows not on Jacobin, or US revolutionary calendars, but on the offing of the same through a klan connection who also committed intellectual theft by naming months honoring unsettling emotions;
Another philosophy professor, with one son in the military and with another on Broadway served for the cover.up by inviting me to gatherings as long as the group was functional, then dropping me as a hot potato when Polivko tried to kill me, figuring the 111 refusing to even take a complaint was good going enough. He now dismisses information I gathered, altering radically the study of the death of a minister who plotted against Hitler, not only not worthy of comment, but also trumped by a sniffle, since his wife is sniffling too, and could I leave, as soon as I mentioned what I had discovered, after being greeted by the good wish for an ambulance in a paranoid continuation of a hand holding gesture Buchsbaum used when parting with me when I recently went to investigate how he has no recollection of me, Leon, and in particular, the Anastasia family.
Orthodox Jewish students organized immediately after the colloquium to damn me through a ped marriage to ennoble the race whorehouse deal, destroy citizenry, and a non descent easy hit since family members are all involved in the same pro slavery Nazi collaborationist trash by conspiratorial whisperings from an ugly skintone nylon orthodox clad female, to two maled contemporary, then rounded off by a woman swathed in a considerable djellaba because she looks like their slave. relative and in the Middle East they'd know.
A Conference at the Graduate Center on Social Justice statistical data gathering, led, by the time I got there, by another face connected to the Philosophy Department during the Anastasia Anno Zero startoff, a Heideggerian scholarly position trade off, to give my future employ not to a Husserl, but a Dollfuss through the divine intervention of a pornography and affairs ring. In a class loaded by Maria Leon's compulsive chortling voice, and table cloth plan shits, she gave us no statistical data listings, showed us how she sent emails on data on Connecticut towns and race to who knows what address, with an exhibitionist's titter, and how good she was at pushing buttons, so much so that after I while I started reading The Advocate. This starting at 6.30 in C.196.03 in the library at same yesterday. This coordinated by the elongated CUNY Board all George Wilbur fans since I don't deserve to teach for the same reasons Husserl did not thanks to an intercession by a crew that will say I'm racist because Husserl was a Jew and Philip Roth, who the assistant hair in philosophy studied with, the author of Portnoy's complaint, or an Olimpian Xantippe of his own, is a much, much better writer than I can hope to be.
This of course expands to the shelter, where my roommate is a plant communicating with Jon Stewart, and no matter how much I give weekly paperwork to the director of social services and her assistant since we worked out a situation orally in which Gonzales's relative, a mucus flinger in denial, was rescinded access to me, she issued a reminder of an appointment slip yesterday followed by a failed appointment meet sheet detailing how I was in full violation. The caseworker at Department of Homeless Services claimed would call, and never did, and my roommate here is in a collusion with Brooks at The New York Times to detail how I read the newspaper like a "customer" and plans on extracting my teeth for Bush's ornamentalia. I can't even speak without a molar they're working on moving in my mouth. Urban Justice on its hand so far has claimed case workers are lawyers and redden at me for not descending and presenting my case when Gonzales' team members do a better job organizing them while I'm there at a meet, exposing their side of even the HRA plight. Coalition for the Homeless much the same.
The roommate, by the way, is in the room, on her text machine, under a blanket, way past shelter closing hours, which I'm violating, if one were to be anal, and which she does, for as long as I'm here. Busy transcribing everything I do, including my dress to Robocop for the King Bush Plantation in the future. For now it's a measly non airconditioned Texan ranch, but he needs to parallel democratic success stories for a yellow and black Hapsburg interf*d plan so it works out.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
More New York Police Department Intricacies:
3.24.2014@11.30AM Canal Street subway station, A,C, E. Two patrol officers, female, male team, organized prior by a limber interpretative dancing camp crew at 2nd Ave subway F arrested a cane and handcuffed backwards a medium dark skinned man because they were seen together in public. The blonde said now you say Alex. He did not respond. They led him to the mezzanine bunker by the West Broadway entrance where badly stamped brass and blue peppermint stripes from behind the counter said that yes it was a precinct called District Two.
9.25PM. 1 line going uptown: on 66th platform a Scottish school guard abducted by Elizabeth the Second was on the platform, trying to find his way to JFK;
9.37PM 59th Street Subway A,C,B,D, 1,2,3 trains. A man still praying backwards insuring his orations reach god in the right way by securing his wrists in metal was accompanied by his two eunuchs to a costume party at an imaginary one police plaza landed on the platform to the left of the 60th and Broadway entrance down, down toward the Downtown & Broadway A,C,B,D platform until they were swallowed by the cement -sensitive intelligence-stairs. The man, on his part was wearing his work uniform, a red and black restaurant outfit. A banner referring to chicken in black type was carried by one of the uniform smitten.
A man on the subway was so enraged at these goings on he was in tears.
A man can't even go out of his home with his child without meeting up with Royal BP Crude Confederate pedophile teams that wants to abduct his child, feed on the father take their lease, claim they're them and move in because the colonies will be Hapsburg Bourbon again.
These are the fourth eyewitness accounts in a month of NYPD coordinated mayhem in the city.
If the justice system allows for even an allusion of such irregularities to take place, it needs a complete and thorough overhaul after being chucked out an open window of a skyscraper. Or: Kiss your f*ing jobs goodbye. We'll catch up.
3.24.2014@11.30AM Canal Street subway station, A,C, E. Two patrol officers, female, male team, organized prior by a limber interpretative dancing camp crew at 2nd Ave subway F arrested a cane and handcuffed backwards a medium dark skinned man because they were seen together in public. The blonde said now you say Alex. He did not respond. They led him to the mezzanine bunker by the West Broadway entrance where badly stamped brass and blue peppermint stripes from behind the counter said that yes it was a precinct called District Two.
9.25PM. 1 line going uptown: on 66th platform a Scottish school guard abducted by Elizabeth the Second was on the platform, trying to find his way to JFK;
9.37PM 59th Street Subway A,C,B,D, 1,2,3 trains. A man still praying backwards insuring his orations reach god in the right way by securing his wrists in metal was accompanied by his two eunuchs to a costume party at an imaginary one police plaza landed on the platform to the left of the 60th and Broadway entrance down, down toward the Downtown & Broadway A,C,B,D platform until they were swallowed by the cement -sensitive intelligence-stairs. The man, on his part was wearing his work uniform, a red and black restaurant outfit. A banner referring to chicken in black type was carried by one of the uniform smitten.
A man on the subway was so enraged at these goings on he was in tears.
A man can't even go out of his home with his child without meeting up with Royal BP Crude Confederate pedophile teams that wants to abduct his child, feed on the father take their lease, claim they're them and move in because the colonies will be Hapsburg Bourbon again.
These are the fourth eyewitness accounts in a month of NYPD coordinated mayhem in the city.
If the justice system allows for even an allusion of such irregularities to take place, it needs a complete and thorough overhaul after being chucked out an open window of a skyscraper. Or: Kiss your f*ing jobs goodbye. We'll catch up.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Stalking Palmer, or the ambiguities of the English Dutch Spice and Slave Trade:
I lived at 118 East 4rth Street;
Palmer marries on Second and Second years later, as detailed on the internet, this to a band member who knew my ex fiance';
I'm on the Upper West Side?
Palmer nazi gender reconditions, slaps infants in small fridges to dismember at will, all through and for Hapsburg money through Madonna Ciccone and Cindy Lauper's chromosomal Y version of X of Kinky Boots @ 951 Columbus Avenue, at 107th Street under the yellow and crimson tide storefront Sergey Jewelry Co We Buy Gold & Diamonds, this at about 10+ PM, the street animated by her would be Hispanic Gonzales, Chair at Queens College, a Ben Leon of the 33.39 88th street, Jackson Heights, NY contact as well, who sentenced me to die if I don't fascist marry the same just so he can cannibalize me due to his Portuguese, Spanish, Greek and Italian roots sloughing off all the way to Pakistan. Currently Palmer is shouting through her zombie politics that as long as I go about alone, she'll set my trip to Mexico after me since this is simply not done. Gloria Steinem supports this since my cultural origin can only dictate I stay off the streets. The team also planted a German imperialist flag my way, by the United Nations, convinced this would arouse impulses of self destruction in the average New Yorker she and others could invest in, the actual flag being the same old.Palmer promises to carve me up. In the meantime she accesses my resting place to weaken the bone around a molar, scrape the same and eat some, as a calcium supplement after they knock me out cold with some needle I can't feel when asleep. They take turns in the art work, being an all inclusive bestial matter. This is supposedly running me out of the city. George Bush has also commissioned them to loosen my molar, and he's been waiting for it to be delivered to him for about a decade, or slightly more. I find it hard not to be affected by intense disgust, and tonight, after someone who was identified as Gonzales' child portrayed me splayed on the subway tracks, had his mother stand by a pole in front of where I would of stood if I left my post in front of a would be Guyanese urinal jaw seen before and through Ben Leon, now on the face of a male. This prompted me to move and reach for my scissors. Palmer even had some of her remnant Spice Dutch now Hispanic rent the driveway in a local Manhattan Ministorage driveway, the grate opening as I stood in front of it a general motors car loitering there for the same amount of time I stood in front of it, and then some 'til it can't kidnap me no more;
The spirit of Saint Louis seized even Jon Stewart who finally accumulated enough money to play it like a white supremacist would: put his and his anticonstitutional contact's name in a jumble on 2nd and 2nd, not to be rivaled by Palmer, who he had an affair with as well, or Ellen Stewart Way. He was laughing his way into early retirement on his show after mentioning my name constantly as if we were lovers when I haven't even met him at all, remarking loudly on how stupid I was; I no longer watch his show, but Samantha Bee, in her many confederate procurement incarnations always sends an emissary over making more appearances than Elvis on toast, always in search of a Stewart who is in hiding as frequently as he can since that's a surefire gauge of success, that and the chi chi SUV world he has finally conquered oh so much different than the pathetic littleness of Jewish experience throughout the world.
The MTA will not be left out either: today there was no trace of the C or B for a good 45 minutes in either direction from a little before 9.30pm on with Cleopatra Jones the conductor of the C downtown @116th street @10.02PM, car number 3650 said "we want you nice and ripe" having learned her lesson well by her slavist master.
I was bothered continuously, with never seen before hoarders gathering everywhere around me, hated on the train, taunted as being in Harlem! on 125th street, stairs blocked by a group walking about in pairs,and then some on the streets, trying to break-by-bother me.
I lived at 118 East 4rth Street;
Palmer marries on Second and Second years later, as detailed on the internet, this to a band member who knew my ex fiance';
I'm on the Upper West Side?
Palmer nazi gender reconditions, slaps infants in small fridges to dismember at will, all through and for Hapsburg money through Madonna Ciccone and Cindy Lauper's chromosomal Y version of X of Kinky Boots @ 951 Columbus Avenue, at 107th Street under the yellow and crimson tide storefront Sergey Jewelry Co We Buy Gold & Diamonds, this at about 10+ PM, the street animated by her would be Hispanic Gonzales, Chair at Queens College, a Ben Leon of the 33.39 88th street, Jackson Heights, NY contact as well, who sentenced me to die if I don't fascist marry the same just so he can cannibalize me due to his Portuguese, Spanish, Greek and Italian roots sloughing off all the way to Pakistan. Currently Palmer is shouting through her zombie politics that as long as I go about alone, she'll set my trip to Mexico after me since this is simply not done. Gloria Steinem supports this since my cultural origin can only dictate I stay off the streets. The team also planted a German imperialist flag my way, by the United Nations, convinced this would arouse impulses of self destruction in the average New Yorker she and others could invest in, the actual flag being the same old.Palmer promises to carve me up. In the meantime she accesses my resting place to weaken the bone around a molar, scrape the same and eat some, as a calcium supplement after they knock me out cold with some needle I can't feel when asleep. They take turns in the art work, being an all inclusive bestial matter. This is supposedly running me out of the city. George Bush has also commissioned them to loosen my molar, and he's been waiting for it to be delivered to him for about a decade, or slightly more. I find it hard not to be affected by intense disgust, and tonight, after someone who was identified as Gonzales' child portrayed me splayed on the subway tracks, had his mother stand by a pole in front of where I would of stood if I left my post in front of a would be Guyanese urinal jaw seen before and through Ben Leon, now on the face of a male. This prompted me to move and reach for my scissors. Palmer even had some of her remnant Spice Dutch now Hispanic rent the driveway in a local Manhattan Ministorage driveway, the grate opening as I stood in front of it a general motors car loitering there for the same amount of time I stood in front of it, and then some 'til it can't kidnap me no more;
The spirit of Saint Louis seized even Jon Stewart who finally accumulated enough money to play it like a white supremacist would: put his and his anticonstitutional contact's name in a jumble on 2nd and 2nd, not to be rivaled by Palmer, who he had an affair with as well, or Ellen Stewart Way. He was laughing his way into early retirement on his show after mentioning my name constantly as if we were lovers when I haven't even met him at all, remarking loudly on how stupid I was; I no longer watch his show, but Samantha Bee, in her many confederate procurement incarnations always sends an emissary over making more appearances than Elvis on toast, always in search of a Stewart who is in hiding as frequently as he can since that's a surefire gauge of success, that and the chi chi SUV world he has finally conquered oh so much different than the pathetic littleness of Jewish experience throughout the world.
The MTA will not be left out either: today there was no trace of the C or B for a good 45 minutes in either direction from a little before 9.30pm on with Cleopatra Jones the conductor of the C downtown @116th street @10.02PM, car number 3650 said "we want you nice and ripe" having learned her lesson well by her slavist master.
I was bothered continuously, with never seen before hoarders gathering everywhere around me, hated on the train, taunted as being in Harlem! on 125th street, stairs blocked by a group walking about in pairs,and then some on the streets, trying to break-by-bother me.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Tales from Bucharest's CIA: why not go back there?
Trent Lott: Chucked out of the security council for an aversion to us for winning WWI and KKK ties that led to
Janet Napolitano: Jealous of Cleo's Napolitano's tattooes and refuses to believe there are confederates, nazifascists absolutists and white supremacists in this country even if the FBI collated a study that led to
Diane Feinstein: another one who joined the democratic party to feel close to her prey and a big fan of English crown torturers who put an end to the American revolution in Italy and France, sees the upcoming US monarchy of conquest a panache of sugarplums. She thinks her last name is Spenc
er because her fairy godmother is Marilla "Dutch Butch" Palmer and plans to stuff economically discriminated people like me into sub basements by inserting lockless room rentals in Craigslist for "hospitals" then landing you in a sub basement, just for for not hating by gender, free thought ,belief, national origin.
Trent Lott: Chucked out of the security council for an aversion to us for winning WWI and KKK ties that led to
Janet Napolitano: Jealous of Cleo's Napolitano's tattooes and refuses to believe there are confederates, nazifascists absolutists and white supremacists in this country even if the FBI collated a study that led to
Diane Feinstein: another one who joined the democratic party to feel close to her prey and a big fan of English crown torturers who put an end to the American revolution in Italy and France, sees the upcoming US monarchy of conquest a panache of sugarplums. She thinks her last name is Spenc
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
The Virgin Mobile capers, or the royal House of England cruise sponsor, valiantly destroying small businesses democratic worldwide.
The day I needed to approach a drug store to buy a card to top up to unlimited was approaching, hell, it was today. I thought something was odd when I could not access the web unless I changed my plan, so I thought, let me see.
As soon as I was outside, events coordinated from the first drug store how my capture was to be audible, well wished for and near a homework assignment given them by Gonzales the ArtChair @ Queens College, who is also entertaining sub basement crews to tell me that their leather jackets are superior esthetically to my whathaveyous, even if Marc Jacobs has Miley Cyruses paparazzi snap shots of my stuff and then develops the piece for wear and hordes of harassers saying, in my presence, and repeatedly, you look like a ha ha ha ha!
The disappearance of all Virgin mobile top up cards and the entire display unit from the front of the stores; location of participating enterprises:
Rite Aid 2712 Broadway NYC;
Duane Reade 2681 Broadway, NYC;
Walgreens 2575 Broadway, NYC;
7 11 2567 Broadway, NYC.
Walgreens, a merger with Duane Reade, engaging like it in Thyssen Krupps escalators, thought it would outdo itself by offering a card for sale but also
cont
Nazi organizational by shelter roommate protected by one of the front door sign in guards, or a dark skinned self proclaimed Guyanese, here because the communists have taken over her country, happy to be humble, a Condalisa Rice cell connection, a Marilla Palmer same, in collusion with other rooms on this floor in this hallway. Prefers to spy on women who are friendly, invite people over to eat whatever they cooked are warm and supportive.
Bedcheck brought guard up saying to roommate if everything was allright here. She's been seething Ai Ai, simulating spying on my internet connection and this blog page by precipitating herself over my side of the room for no reason other than to bump into her locker and seethe more ahi ahi ahis.
Here's what this filth is organizing on her cellphone an A-it sounds like breaking in houses and marinating homowners or renters for erotoantropophagous reasons. She also takes other contracts, like harming my gums and wanting my molar for George Bush, stealing a sock then throwing it on the floor, organizing the rest of the trash here to harass me and claim whatever she is told to, and is currently busy snorting her mucus and swallowing it whole. No sign of madness, just fury at not being obeyed:
"24450250 wife (...) bridge Lawrence (...) Sandra 45 money land I don't know boilla habla kool his whoreson bouillon Church Avenue".
Roommate resembles a goose with a jutting out belly, seems German and English, is currently pretending to snore, fat on upper thighs gathers like a trapezoid base of a Nazi temple, grated slave quarters, or slaughterhouse.
Bedcheck brought guard up saying to roommate if everything was allright here. She's been seething Ai Ai, simulating spying on my internet connection and this blog page by precipitating herself over my side of the room for no reason other than to bump into her locker and seethe more ahi ahi ahis.
Here's what this filth is organizing on her cellphone an A-it sounds like breaking in houses and marinating homowners or renters for erotoantropophagous reasons. She also takes other contracts, like harming my gums and wanting my molar for George Bush, stealing a sock then throwing it on the floor, organizing the rest of the trash here to harass me and claim whatever she is told to, and is currently busy snorting her mucus and swallowing it whole. No sign of madness, just fury at not being obeyed:
"24450250 wife (...) bridge Lawrence (...) Sandra 45 money land I don't know boilla habla kool his whoreson bouillon Church Avenue".
Roommate resembles a goose with a jutting out belly, seems German and English, is currently pretending to snore, fat on upper thighs gathers like a trapezoid base of a Nazi temple, grated slave quarters, or slaughterhouse.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Travis's Excellent Adventure in Chad, or the world according to Condalisa Rice, George Wilbur Bush and Barack Obama...
Me being the litmus test on exactly what bloody tooth the American USA!USA!USA! public can muster and sustain during harsh times in which the Pentagon is still dependent on wars waged by a Department not formerly called defense, here's what's on future Platters:
1) All of the Army reduced to nothing to insure talent is not paid for by military GI bills, but by itself since the States are not a hotel, thanks to Barack AKA Obama;
2) Condalisa Rice ordering her newly appointed baseball bat coat of arms female vacants to do commoners in, not the Reincarnation, or The Well Deserving Face as a concept, in every walk of life. This because she teaches at Samford, and I don't;
3) Trying to explain to their Pro Axis children exactly how to present to the people they align to harass and accuse of pederasty and more, how Communism means Russia to people who already know that to them Communism always meant Russia;
4) How Rice and Kennedy landed in Nassau County tricking most Long Irishers into believing that Mai Lai was not a source of laughter for her as the plight of the Vietnamese, the people, since she believes in a Pan Asian world;
5) If the future is an erotoantropophagus' scopro delight, why bother banning gassing in Syria? Heck, think of adding the stuff to water through fracking, what the hell, along a Canadian, US and Mexico duct alignment;
6) Israel, betrayed at the Oscars by Persians United, Have Traffic Cops wear Hijabs with the advent of democracy in Iraq, paralleled by its parallel in Japan, now is considering seizing goy property through a concern with air space over gulf regions following the usual blueprint: you get a share from war criminals and falsely accuse who you both agree are expendible. So, thanks to the presence of Jews in the States and Democrats in Iraq, poses a question through Netanyaha, as to when the US and Iraq are joining an effort to build a nuclear arsenal called deterrent anywhere within range of the Moscowitz Hempstead's Chinese restaurant, they go to every Christmas day for the fun of it well within the driving distance of their house's inordinately high property taxes;
7) Condalisa Rice confuses herself with Polonius, invests in fiberoptics and Verizon, then hides behind an iron curtain, playing sentry duty, asking to people on their way to buy the list she has others spy on in supermarkets:
Brutal dictators or International community, allies?
Me being the litmus test on exactly what bloody tooth the American USA!USA!USA! public can muster and sustain during harsh times in which the Pentagon is still dependent on wars waged by a Department not formerly called defense, here's what's on future Platters:
1) All of the Army reduced to nothing to insure talent is not paid for by military GI bills, but by itself since the States are not a hotel, thanks to Barack AKA Obama;
2) Condalisa Rice ordering her newly appointed baseball bat coat of arms female vacants to do commoners in, not the Reincarnation, or The Well Deserving Face as a concept, in every walk of life. This because she teaches at Samford, and I don't;
3) Trying to explain to their Pro Axis children exactly how to present to the people they align to harass and accuse of pederasty and more, how Communism means Russia to people who already know that to them Communism always meant Russia;
4) How Rice and Kennedy landed in Nassau County tricking most Long Irishers into believing that Mai Lai was not a source of laughter for her as the plight of the Vietnamese, the people, since she believes in a Pan Asian world;
5) If the future is an erotoantropophagus' scopro delight, why bother banning gassing in Syria? Heck, think of adding the stuff to water through fracking, what the hell, along a Canadian, US and Mexico duct alignment;
6) Israel, betrayed at the Oscars by Persians United, Have Traffic Cops wear Hijabs with the advent of democracy in Iraq, paralleled by its parallel in Japan, now is considering seizing goy property through a concern with air space over gulf regions following the usual blueprint: you get a share from war criminals and falsely accuse who you both agree are expendible. So, thanks to the presence of Jews in the States and Democrats in Iraq, poses a question through Netanyaha, as to when the US and Iraq are joining an effort to build a nuclear arsenal called deterrent anywhere within range of the Moscowitz Hempstead's Chinese restaurant, they go to every Christmas day for the fun of it well within the driving distance of their house's inordinately high property taxes;
7) Condalisa Rice confuses herself with Polonius, invests in fiberoptics and Verizon, then hides behind an iron curtain, playing sentry duty, asking to people on their way to buy the list she has others spy on in supermarkets:
Brutal dictators or International community, allies?
My gift to St Patrick as a local snake on March 17, 2014
What assaulted all of me as soon as I bought an emerald green I shamrock NY tee on Canal for six bucks:
1) A possible arrest for impersonating an Irishman, leading me to think are you Gaza Irish or black Irish? as a thriller segue;
2) The cry "groupie!" emitted, at its regular daily time, unobstructed by the holiday, from my mother's and Elan Portnoy's contingent of would be religious Japanese impersonating all of Asia to convey the fact they want me a whore, to keep me from commonly owned property and gloat at the event of a false trial followed by a false arrest, resulting in my utter ruin. This is usually emitted multiple times during multiple days whichever personality they think I am inhabiting cafes, bookstores, supermarkets, subway platforms or wherever I am;
3) A Dutch Austrian Hapsburg (Catholic) with a Danish nose (Protestant) and a Headless Horseman (Jewish) band member, Portnoy's old band on a Dutch Indie label, Chris Cush, also no love lost, with a face resembling King George the III as Barney, the magic dragon, as plausible a hip presence possible in the area because of purple. This an effort to take over the States honoring at Epsteinland, from Brian Epstein, the fifth Beatle, the Beatles' answer to the Stones' Brian Jones' picaresque adventure with a swimming pool;
4) A Cardinal Ruffo (catholic AND reactionary) face, crossed over into both Charlie Sheen and Richard the III, inherited by the Columbia Escobars, grimacing in pain;
5) A Berlusconi Provenzano, wishing me a vale of tears, even though no longer in Sicily, and still not ready to admit that all of Holland is actually Pharaonic, not Arab, working on transforming his upper delta St Thomas of Aquinas Ramses into a lower delta Augustine of Hippo queen through a Portuguese Santa Maria contact, having kept his skill at organ extraction while the body is still warm, a protestant faith and the mass live burial of workers instead of paying them once the job is done;
6) A Court badge digit cop or two at Bowling Green trying to frame an orthodox Jew with a child's mitten, dropped after he passed me and my tee, by a team of shaded male adolescents symbolically representing an Africa indignant at Jew! wearing New Orleans hot emerald green beads, with a shamrock dangling , trying their best to make room for me in this otherwise exclusionary society.
I dropped the duel wager token on the tracks at 14th, where a team of other NYPD collar insignia but court cop badge number female impersonators were accruing someone's stolen budget record for tax years 2010, 2012, and 2013 by holding the platform down waiting for death to come to me;
7) Wikipedia had me longing for their dragging Linneus into their definition of shamrock after they recovered the dead from boot hill to explore the connection between genetic alienations and four leaf clovers;
Another Nostradamus prophecy come to piss:
Pizzeria .28's waitress adds her name in a family face kind of way to the Fire Department ambulance loitering in front of Whole Foods Union Square, waiting for Samuel Beckett, the IRA's version of Godot.
8) A loose collection of Nazi confederate fascistotea party race case heads stalking their next door neighbor because they saw him get out of his car once, and felt him to be an explanation of reality in the US and follow him everywhere even Starbucks. After sitting at a small, wobbly table next to him, say in polite harassment: Shibboleth: what does that mean in Irish?
9) Tina Fey getting wind of this blog from The Third Man of third parties, saying hey this stuff is good. It'll never alienate me from the Kennedy Center!
10) One Irish' true contribution to American culture: not only wake parties, drunken states but shamrock as a Gaelic term happily born into English.
What assaulted all of me as soon as I bought an emerald green I shamrock NY tee on Canal for six bucks:
1) A possible arrest for impersonating an Irishman, leading me to think are you Gaza Irish or black Irish? as a thriller segue;
2) The cry "groupie!" emitted, at its regular daily time, unobstructed by the holiday, from my mother's and Elan Portnoy's contingent of would be religious Japanese impersonating all of Asia to convey the fact they want me a whore, to keep me from commonly owned property and gloat at the event of a false trial followed by a false arrest, resulting in my utter ruin. This is usually emitted multiple times during multiple days whichever personality they think I am inhabiting cafes, bookstores, supermarkets, subway platforms or wherever I am;
3) A Dutch Austrian Hapsburg (Catholic) with a Danish nose (Protestant) and a Headless Horseman (Jewish) band member, Portnoy's old band on a Dutch Indie label, Chris Cush, also no love lost, with a face resembling King George the III as Barney, the magic dragon, as plausible a hip presence possible in the area because of purple. This an effort to take over the States honoring at Epsteinland, from Brian Epstein, the fifth Beatle, the Beatles' answer to the Stones' Brian Jones' picaresque adventure with a swimming pool;
4) A Cardinal Ruffo (catholic AND reactionary) face, crossed over into both Charlie Sheen and Richard the III, inherited by the Columbia Escobars, grimacing in pain;
5) A Berlusconi Provenzano, wishing me a vale of tears, even though no longer in Sicily, and still not ready to admit that all of Holland is actually Pharaonic, not Arab, working on transforming his upper delta St Thomas of Aquinas Ramses into a lower delta Augustine of Hippo queen through a Portuguese Santa Maria contact, having kept his skill at organ extraction while the body is still warm, a protestant faith and the mass live burial of workers instead of paying them once the job is done;
6) A Court badge digit cop or two at Bowling Green trying to frame an orthodox Jew with a child's mitten, dropped after he passed me and my tee, by a team of shaded male adolescents symbolically representing an Africa indignant at Jew! wearing New Orleans hot emerald green beads, with a shamrock dangling , trying their best to make room for me in this otherwise exclusionary society.
I dropped the duel wager token on the tracks at 14th, where a team of other NYPD collar insignia but court cop badge number female impersonators were accruing someone's stolen budget record for tax years 2010, 2012, and 2013 by holding the platform down waiting for death to come to me;
7) Wikipedia had me longing for their dragging Linneus into their definition of shamrock after they recovered the dead from boot hill to explore the connection between genetic alienations and four leaf clovers;
Another Nostradamus prophecy come to piss:
Pizzeria .28's waitress adds her name in a family face kind of way to the Fire Department ambulance loitering in front of Whole Foods Union Square, waiting for Samuel Beckett, the IRA's version of Godot.
8) A loose collection of Nazi confederate fascistotea party race case heads stalking their next door neighbor because they saw him get out of his car once, and felt him to be an explanation of reality in the US and follow him everywhere even Starbucks. After sitting at a small, wobbly table next to him, say in polite harassment: Shibboleth: what does that mean in Irish?
9) Tina Fey getting wind of this blog from The Third Man of third parties, saying hey this stuff is good. It'll never alienate me from the Kennedy Center!
10) One Irish' true contribution to American culture: not only wake parties, drunken states but shamrock as a Gaelic term happily born into English.
Shelter staff has an episode
Cop, female, Dutch national origin, ambles in in 4 feet about and dark eyes and hair. Looks at the long suffering concierge of the hotel, says Fire as in FDNY ambulance, which outweight citizens by Nazi drivers by about 50% he grumbles something, saying that the oil was delivered there was a gas smell though, intimating I was smelling the non existent gas smell, am roughed up by a dual series of sign in guards, ridiculed by the scrum arranging staff that laugh at me, one trying to taunt me so much that I'll eventually believe every loud sound is a slap in my face, then pressing her body looking at her co worker like I'm the biggest joke in the world, saying she's going to have to do this-at 14th Street, where I found two false cops, with court officer ID numbers, from the same "court" with grates on the basement windows , now Anthology Film Archives, that Marilla Palmer and Peter Zaremba of the Fleshtones or, I'll say African American on the NYPD ID if you do, were officiated in marriage by Palmer's father, mentioned as court to me by the same team at Jamaica that shoot 54 bullets to off a marriage, all looking like Ramses the Provenzano Berlusconi connection. Prior to that a crowd of more than 300 people blocking all access to the F downtown, exactly in the area of Anthology, so much so I had to stand by the wall to wait until 'dam kicked in again.
Cop, female, Dutch national origin, ambles in in 4 feet about and dark eyes and hair. Looks at the long suffering concierge of the hotel, says Fire as in FDNY ambulance, which outweight citizens by Nazi drivers by about 50% he grumbles something, saying that the oil was delivered there was a gas smell though, intimating I was smelling the non existent gas smell, am roughed up by a dual series of sign in guards, ridiculed by the scrum arranging staff that laugh at me, one trying to taunt me so much that I'll eventually believe every loud sound is a slap in my face, then pressing her body looking at her co worker like I'm the biggest joke in the world, saying she's going to have to do this-at 14th Street, where I found two false cops, with court officer ID numbers, from the same "court" with grates on the basement windows , now Anthology Film Archives, that Marilla Palmer and Peter Zaremba of the Fleshtones or, I'll say African American on the NYPD ID if you do, were officiated in marriage by Palmer's father, mentioned as court to me by the same team at Jamaica that shoot 54 bullets to off a marriage, all looking like Ramses the Provenzano Berlusconi connection. Prior to that a crowd of more than 300 people blocking all access to the F downtown, exactly in the area of Anthology, so much so I had to stand by the wall to wait until 'dam kicked in again.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Our future as broken slaves:
Bush and Palmer operational coup d'etatists against US and world democracies for Nazi Klan interests on passwords, internet connections and New York shelters. Bush's wife plans on taking us as citizens hostage. The idea, basically is to prove who is better in forcing an innocent to do someone's will.
Tonight's treatment at the shelter @ 9.50PM by the entire staff on the first floor:
"I wanna see the communist go on the can"
"I punished you communist" in Italianate;
"Mafia"
"Your father ate you"
They interrupt searching me to sign out another client; they have me move away from the place I'm texting this.
"There is no rental for you"
"Get out of here, you communist" from 315 just now;
"Aleshandra you're paranoid" from 315 just now;
"Pack out of the shelter"
"Miss Mafia dead ass"
Threats to throw me out of the shelter if I don't move away from the hallway, but they want me to stop texting.
I move to the elevator, staff murmurs to one another "she's on to the West Side" meaning I know the sign across the street was an Anastasia family arrangement, involving the Leon @ 33.39 88th street Jackson Heights, NYC
As soon as I accessed the bathroom, another client fictionalized accessing it immediately after me, then moved away. I had bought tampons yesterday. Minutes after a staff member started rifling through the bathroom trashliner. Before throwing the tampon out, I rinsed it clean of blood.
Shelter has equipment to disable communications, telephone, and internet.
As I write radio trash walks by saying something about Jesus Christ our savior.
There is no hot water to speak of since I moved in. If there is the clients drain it. I am spied constantly by my roommate who stays in the room to witness me at my locker, in my locked and dressing, and never leaves. She opens windows so that someone could see my bed from a window outside. Now she's growling Ale under her breath from her bed, as if she were on first name basis with me, and I told her my name was Ale. The only time she spoke she told me she understood herself as humble. She saw the necessity of it.
Rooms 314, 315, 317 all in collusion. My room mate is responsible for harming my right upper gum and bone, in my sleep, same parallel to the other molar ruined by the Tapiero and my mother's family in 2010/2011. They're trying to harvest two for George Bush's collection. Arline Lasberg, Elan Portnoy, along with the majority of what is built to being the Jewish people in the US, or some elements of the Upper East Side synagogue, the Penns, Mizrahi real estate, who doesn't even answer phone calls, Marc Jacobs, Dona Karan, Barbra Streisand, Woody Allen, Stewart, Zabars, a gourmet shop on the West Side, all have declared their white supremacist ties and have celebrated illegally evicting me and destroying my real estate. They inter people for being democratic in psych hospitals, and seize their assets, such as real estate, after completely unjustified one year stays, which is what Stewart is working on me. I have a job specialist connected to Portnoy, or Creedmoor, a State Psych hospital, setting an appointment to see me listed as visitor, requesting a copy of my resume. The name construes forcing me in a Japanese imperial brothel.
My case worker has thrown a dried blood green crust of nose mucus on my sleeve in a meet, then asked me how I felt overall. She has given me unchecked appointment forms, requested I save 60% of my income, requested I inform her as to the exact day of my direct deposit, asked for my benefits card, asked for income information connected to my direct deposit, requested I dress "businesslike" and seek work at an organization of her choosing, and listed me in violation when I did not.
Clients stated yesterday they wanted me to go back home, and that my estranged mother and uncle had contacted the management and my social worker for a hit.
Google is klan and English crown indebted and interferes with my posts continuously;
MSN has Maddow who spies on personal internet data for concealed Nazis like Ron Paul;
Yahoo has Stewart, so the Portnoy, Lasberg, Anastasia, Palmer club, and 20C famous fascist families investments, such as the Borghese.
There is also an extra device listed as 1 on my internet connection.
Bush and Palmer operational coup d'etatists against US and world democracies for Nazi Klan interests on passwords, internet connections and New York shelters. Bush's wife plans on taking us as citizens hostage. The idea, basically is to prove who is better in forcing an innocent to do someone's will.
Tonight's treatment at the shelter @ 9.50PM by the entire staff on the first floor:
"I wanna see the communist go on the can"
"I punished you communist" in Italianate;
"Mafia"
"Your father ate you"
They interrupt searching me to sign out another client; they have me move away from the place I'm texting this.
"There is no rental for you"
"Get out of here, you communist" from 315 just now;
"Aleshandra you're paranoid" from 315 just now;
"Pack out of the shelter"
"Miss Mafia dead ass"
Threats to throw me out of the shelter if I don't move away from the hallway, but they want me to stop texting.
I move to the elevator, staff murmurs to one another "she's on to the West Side" meaning I know the sign across the street was an Anastasia family arrangement, involving the Leon @ 33.39 88th street Jackson Heights, NYC
As soon as I accessed the bathroom, another client fictionalized accessing it immediately after me, then moved away. I had bought tampons yesterday. Minutes after a staff member started rifling through the bathroom trashliner. Before throwing the tampon out, I rinsed it clean of blood.
Shelter has equipment to disable communications, telephone, and internet.
As I write radio trash walks by saying something about Jesus Christ our savior.
There is no hot water to speak of since I moved in. If there is the clients drain it. I am spied constantly by my roommate who stays in the room to witness me at my locker, in my locked and dressing, and never leaves. She opens windows so that someone could see my bed from a window outside. Now she's growling Ale under her breath from her bed, as if she were on first name basis with me, and I told her my name was Ale. The only time she spoke she told me she understood herself as humble. She saw the necessity of it.
Rooms 314, 315, 317 all in collusion. My room mate is responsible for harming my right upper gum and bone, in my sleep, same parallel to the other molar ruined by the Tapiero and my mother's family in 2010/2011. They're trying to harvest two for George Bush's collection. Arline Lasberg, Elan Portnoy, along with the majority of what is built to being the Jewish people in the US, or some elements of the Upper East Side synagogue, the Penns, Mizrahi real estate, who doesn't even answer phone calls, Marc Jacobs, Dona Karan, Barbra Streisand, Woody Allen, Stewart, Zabars, a gourmet shop on the West Side, all have declared their white supremacist ties and have celebrated illegally evicting me and destroying my real estate. They inter people for being democratic in psych hospitals, and seize their assets, such as real estate, after completely unjustified one year stays, which is what Stewart is working on me. I have a job specialist connected to Portnoy, or Creedmoor, a State Psych hospital, setting an appointment to see me listed as visitor, requesting a copy of my resume. The name construes forcing me in a Japanese imperial brothel.
My case worker has thrown a dried blood green crust of nose mucus on my sleeve in a meet, then asked me how I felt overall. She has given me unchecked appointment forms, requested I save 60% of my income, requested I inform her as to the exact day of my direct deposit, asked for my benefits card, asked for income information connected to my direct deposit, requested I dress "businesslike" and seek work at an organization of her choosing, and listed me in violation when I did not.
Clients stated yesterday they wanted me to go back home, and that my estranged mother and uncle had contacted the management and my social worker for a hit.
Google is klan and English crown indebted and interferes with my posts continuously;
MSN has Maddow who spies on personal internet data for concealed Nazis like Ron Paul;
Yahoo has Stewart, so the Portnoy, Lasberg, Anastasia, Palmer club, and 20C famous fascist families investments, such as the Borghese.
There is also an extra device listed as 1 on my internet connection.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Would be cop leading handcuffed man in A,C,E Canal Street stop subway by the entrance of the NYPD police hut there.
2.27PM. Man, Euro, wearing nothing but dirtydusty slackerwear and a dangling 4 digit NYPD badge was being led by a hands in back handcuffed African American man in his 70's dressed informally in olive earth tones, very comfortable looking and cleaner, down the stairs of the Canal Street subway entry @ West Broadway SouthWest, one would assume toward the small satellite of love NYPD office away from the precinct club house built for that convenience alone, on the subway mezzanine.
2.27PM. Man, Euro, wearing nothing but dirtydusty slackerwear and a dangling 4 digit NYPD badge was being led by a hands in back handcuffed African American man in his 70's dressed informally in olive earth tones, very comfortable looking and cleaner, down the stairs of the Canal Street subway entry @ West Broadway SouthWest, one would assume toward the small satellite of love NYPD office away from the precinct club house built for that convenience alone, on the subway mezzanine.
3.13.14 Driscoll Babcock Established as the oldest gallery since 1852 in a location otherwise unknown from the storefront @ 525W25th Street inaugurated a new recrudescent mnemonization of white main street's safari in case those building new constructions in the New York area inventing codes for supportive iron structures as aluminum for a quick trip to Elysium as fuselage by whoever rents, coops, or condos.
Here's a celebratory hippy jacquard reference to the Congo capers, when Slap Happy and Sad landed in a region in Africa, just about any, and tried to make a grab for iron ore clewed in to the color of the dirt and the term white. You don't believe me? Just see how they dress to this day. That particular zigzag went West to North and South Dakota, forced allied indigenous there to abuse cats, dogs, small critters, and then destroy not only frontier churches where the unwanted of every imperial European dynasty were sent to shine, but also their own, since property deeds to them had been passed around under the term newspaper, flattening the recipient in the process.
Here's an ode to hair, dark and blonde, a filed of Austrian imperial expertise for sex toys to piss on, to avoid a trip to the bathroom, as a way to track down all Continental country inhabitants, in particular Catholic, after calling them lazy. This preceded the erection resulting in the roaring slang from slaughterhouses of WIPE THAT FAMILY OUT! THEY'RE NOT US!
This is where moderate kibbutzim meet their timely AT LONG LAST! end. At the shout FOR THE CRUSADERS' LEFT BALLS! all of Israel, in particular Jerusalem, as a cross, guilty of arrogance for wanting to be state capital instead of a vacationer's time share, will be teletransported into sub basements built by spaceship moles, rabbits, weevils, and zombie gnomes under their oh so modern modular apartment housings, just for having dared to build them at all and being mild, not bombastic enough to shake the world by touching Hispanic nipples in public while on a shopping expedition to Conway's. And why not contact Max Jacob or Donna Karan for a quick platform shoe on short sandals for the new 2014 fall line since Calvin alas, has sold his business to Van Housen and thinks he's Howard Hughes hiding behind the bushes posing as white picket fences in the Hamptons.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Terrorist Plot Review Column, The New York Times Building
Just on a lark, and brought to the premises by some Broadway bus I boarded on the Upper East Side, I thought I'd approach the business to remind them I'm still receiving my paper with a white label on it, detailing my name and my account number for the world to see and I thought I could venture in the offices to address the issue without bothering with another phone call omnipresent Ashley for now slumming at The New York Times, in the future the world will be hers.
As soon as I access the bulding, past 9AM, a Jefferson Davis Ginevra De' Benci Camelot type from the Confederacy as pressed wool Binky approaches security and mentions my commoner nature, as "comunista" to the security duo, solidly lodged at the bench closest to the north. I look at the landscaping and remember that documentary film awarded something in Portugal, triumphing the murder of fish, dead algae, women as fishermen? documented to the T and fishing and Portuguese of the Indigenous arm slashing variety, here to detail to illegal fascist files any university student who 1) takes a real interest in his her major; 2) the major is art; 3) can be lured to admit he recognizes Corda's photo of Che Guevara as Che Guevara 4) and 5) can be classified as being pertinent to the Hispanic or Indigenous worlds here in the US by people like artChair Gonzales at Queens College, CUNY who stresses his tenure on the label detailing his work at the exhibit of soon to be finger deprived factory worker Klimtian Naiads trapped in a nightmare of love nightmare in its Basic Hapsburg edition as false Irish for the British Admiralty in ports such as Napoli, Italy, or, the Godwin-Ternbach Museum at Queens, the faculty show. I also see another version of Gonzales, now a race, strut his stuff in the lobby, as a segue, in less than about five minutes of me in the building lobby at that.
Thinking the rivalry with the KGB has reached the level of asshair counting, I approach the bench and present my case to security. They tell me to digit 1561 or, Oswald Ramsammy, who records my message only until I say remove the fucking label off my newspaper, this after the duo conspiratorially identify me to each other, by first and last name, no ID necessary.
A Padilla, of the 9/11 Padilla, trots by. I see another in a doorway, upchucking at the idea of me as a sight.
At the NRQ 42 street subway, a boldly gone as court officers where court officers have gone before, in four digit badges, but with NYPD on their collars, a collection of about four individuals as males accumulates by the descent into the platform. I shoot them with a how's court? as I walk by. On the platform, there's another with canopy joined precinct collar insignia, connected, in a studied sloppy way, on top. And here I thought I was catholic.
Rating: 4) I escaped with my life
1) The novelty of betrayal;
2) Tickled into pink bunny suicide by the product;
3) Nowhere is safe and everybody's innocent except me;
4) I escaped with my life and still don't regret it;
5) Bored
Just on a lark, and brought to the premises by some Broadway bus I boarded on the Upper East Side, I thought I'd approach the business to remind them I'm still receiving my paper with a white label on it, detailing my name and my account number for the world to see and I thought I could venture in the offices to address the issue without bothering with another phone call omnipresent Ashley for now slumming at The New York Times, in the future the world will be hers.
As soon as I access the bulding, past 9AM, a Jefferson Davis Ginevra De' Benci Camelot type from the Confederacy as pressed wool Binky approaches security and mentions my commoner nature, as "comunista" to the security duo, solidly lodged at the bench closest to the north. I look at the landscaping and remember that documentary film awarded something in Portugal, triumphing the murder of fish, dead algae, women as fishermen? documented to the T and fishing and Portuguese of the Indigenous arm slashing variety, here to detail to illegal fascist files any university student who 1) takes a real interest in his her major; 2) the major is art; 3) can be lured to admit he recognizes Corda's photo of Che Guevara as Che Guevara 4) and 5) can be classified as being pertinent to the Hispanic or Indigenous worlds here in the US by people like artChair Gonzales at Queens College, CUNY who stresses his tenure on the label detailing his work at the exhibit of soon to be finger deprived factory worker Klimtian Naiads trapped in a nightmare of love nightmare in its Basic Hapsburg edition as false Irish for the British Admiralty in ports such as Napoli, Italy, or, the Godwin-Ternbach Museum at Queens, the faculty show. I also see another version of Gonzales, now a race, strut his stuff in the lobby, as a segue, in less than about five minutes of me in the building lobby at that.
Thinking the rivalry with the KGB has reached the level of asshair counting, I approach the bench and present my case to security. They tell me to digit 1561 or, Oswald Ramsammy, who records my message only until I say remove the fucking label off my newspaper, this after the duo conspiratorially identify me to each other, by first and last name, no ID necessary.
A Padilla, of the 9/11 Padilla, trots by. I see another in a doorway, upchucking at the idea of me as a sight.
At the NRQ 42 street subway, a boldly gone as court officers where court officers have gone before, in four digit badges, but with NYPD on their collars, a collection of about four individuals as males accumulates by the descent into the platform. I shoot them with a how's court? as I walk by. On the platform, there's another with canopy joined precinct collar insignia, connected, in a studied sloppy way, on top. And here I thought I was catholic.
Rating: 4) I escaped with my life
1) The novelty of betrayal;
2) Tickled into pink bunny suicide by the product;
3) Nowhere is safe and everybody's innocent except me;
4) I escaped with my life and still don't regret it;
5) Bored
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Restaurant Review Column
Starbucks, 110th Cathedral and Broadway, 2853 Broadway, 10025.7817
9.25AM 2.13.2014
Arrival for something to drink, or and eat is celebrated by a thug sized buffoon, with nameplate Jorge, who starts a polite whisper avalanche that has 'homeless' tracked as such as a neighborhood clean up job, subsequently allegorized by the arrival of a boyhaircut in female with chintzy glass stone drug store studs inserted in an otherwise euronorth square face, that nods how the clean up is handled by,outside, a laughing cop car siren. At which point customers join in with insults aimed at squashing the person to be harmed under a diarrheal flow of misapplied and anti constitutional social status, saying a bit of this and that, with the actual customer service line far away from the line formed behind me as I digit a text to the New York Police Department, describing the events. I am cajoled into believing I'm impeding a pilgrim's progress toward coffee, followed by an avalanche of slander applique'd to my name. At which point I need to make a disclaimer, euronorth flings herself at the exit door, telling it to leave, having waited for centuries for an opportunity like that. Outside a Fire Department station wagon with a big side sticker in cobalt blue medium pastel listing 17 drives by, sounding same siren, and I am stalked to the drugstore by their zombie politics race case head, in this incarnation a disheveled dark skinned African American male, with a necessary disarray displayed in his outerwear, as I buy two notebooks, to take notes with, of all things. The subways overlord and empty after another necessary disclaimer, to protect the general public with actually somewhere to go. Last month I had to shout it out on every street stop of the 23rd Street bus, headed West. There they used their colonized variation of both Hispanic and Indigenous population color, AND in school girl plaid, who, of course, I know, and who knows me but personally, since I'm both a teevee cinematic AND internet celeb available to each and everyone.
It also charges about 1/3 more for Espresso and Italianate drinks, the going rate not being chi chi.
Starbucks, 110th Cathedral and Broadway, 2853 Broadway, 10025.7817
9.25AM 2.13.2014
Arrival for something to drink, or and eat is celebrated by a thug sized buffoon, with nameplate Jorge, who starts a polite whisper avalanche that has 'homeless' tracked as such as a neighborhood clean up job, subsequently allegorized by the arrival of a boyhaircut in female with chintzy glass stone drug store studs inserted in an otherwise euronorth square face, that nods how the clean up is handled by,outside, a laughing cop car siren. At which point customers join in with insults aimed at squashing the person to be harmed under a diarrheal flow of misapplied and anti constitutional social status, saying a bit of this and that, with the actual customer service line far away from the line formed behind me as I digit a text to the New York Police Department, describing the events. I am cajoled into believing I'm impeding a pilgrim's progress toward coffee, followed by an avalanche of slander applique'd to my name. At which point I need to make a disclaimer, euronorth flings herself at the exit door, telling it to leave, having waited for centuries for an opportunity like that. Outside a Fire Department station wagon with a big side sticker in cobalt blue medium pastel listing 17 drives by, sounding same siren, and I am stalked to the drugstore by their zombie politics race case head, in this incarnation a disheveled dark skinned African American male, with a necessary disarray displayed in his outerwear, as I buy two notebooks, to take notes with, of all things. The subways overlord and empty after another necessary disclaimer, to protect the general public with actually somewhere to go. Last month I had to shout it out on every street stop of the 23rd Street bus, headed West. There they used their colonized variation of both Hispanic and Indigenous population color, AND in school girl plaid, who, of course, I know, and who knows me but personally, since I'm both a teevee cinematic AND internet celeb available to each and everyone.
It also charges about 1/3 more for Espresso and Italianate drinks, the going rate not being chi chi.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Constitutional violations, genocide, against democratic citizenry: Hil(l)ary Clinton or the KKK with abducted Indians in Australia and Jamaica posing as aborigine, remembered in Atlanta city limits, and the Portuguese Spanish court remnants now a confederate nazifascist rehash stashed in Bosnia Herzegovina waiting to Austro Hungary us all
or
Why Hil(l)ary Clinton addressed the American Society of Travel Agents and the National Association of Realtors
At Whole Foods, Bowery. Two separate teams of women, a duo single, and German speaking the other with annexed children, one an infant whose speaking coat hanger stated was raped, the other slightly older, both stared at by a beaten down clown, female version, ready for transport to Mexico, in the nazifascist day of yore past, Alicante as one location, for a not so quick erotoantropophagic treat.
Nazis throughout,
covered by Marilla Palmer's one traffic cop, on a Nazi brothel refill, in various variations of gross sprache, saying they got me out of Bayside, target homes, families, to death, in the following metro New York areas:
Fort Greene, Brooklyn;
Bowery, Manhattan through Anita Pallenberg, Keith Richard's blowjob whore, or an internal governmental spy against any democratic organizing within same;
Bayside, Queens;
11th @ B, unspecified.
They also organize homicidal possee raids in other democratic countries, trying to urder an FBI agent or two in passing, often with four digit badge cops, same amount on New York Court Security Officers, where anyone can be killed, and betrayed from the inside as well.
At Queens Family Court, where living in a different location that does not lead to a court order did anyway yesterday through either Judge Jolly, or Margaret Mulrooney, Esq, either way, of dark skin, on the 4th floor, P16, Rm 420 there's a calendar sticker stuck on the desk, covered by a high wooden collar, describing exactly who are State Court Officers Associates, as a State Officers Association, all but denied by the people who got me out of Bayside also, on December 5th, 2013 through an illegal eviction and a broken door, no search warrant or grounds for, and stole records, computer, keys to files, account numbers, passwords, all without even an inkling of an investigation in sight, courtesy of the plan to defraud me of commonly held real estate by my mother, Emilia De Cristofaro Maffei:
Doug Bonanno Recording Secretary;
Stephen Mikos 2nd Vice President;
Mary Salisbury Secretary/Treasurer;
Paul Arcati Financial Secretary;
Ted Kantor 1st Vice President;
Dennis W. Quirk President
in reversed order
for the moment, 111 Precinct informers follow me everywhere I go because they miss me, want me medicated, and claim my name publicly for them, saying I'm part of a wider pool of mad people who need to be surveilled even at a shelter where there has been no hot water for two days by other coordinated informers, also accumulated by Obama, but I have been bothered, by a Nissan driving room mate from hell brothel replicants, a continuation of an insertion of imperial Japan, through Alessandra Mussolini on the second floor of also my house, at 196.33 45th Avenue, Apt 2, Flushing New York, 11358. Addressing this issue today, to shelter desk staff, their reply was This is not the Four Seasons Hotel. Yesterday in court same judge-esquire tried to slap me with a Nazi concealed Lega lawyer, the same kind starving people in psych institutions in Northern Italy, after making them die of thirst as well, strapped to a bed, whom I cordially refused after being quizzed by both my mother's Mussolini lawyer, Ogle Andrea, and the Court officer, even though it was none of their business. They did keep me out of court until proceedings were held. Ogle chatted with a face resembling heirs to this particular shelter,within my hearing, oh what can I stop? trying to arrange my disappearance in Overmedicationlandia, saying she couldn't wait to do so, with my mother looking at me disgustedly, and schpieling how I made no sense at all, ever, ever and ever, in particular, because I called the cops.
or
Why Hil(l)ary Clinton addressed the American Society of Travel Agents and the National Association of Realtors
At Whole Foods, Bowery. Two separate teams of women, a duo single, and German speaking the other with annexed children, one an infant whose speaking coat hanger stated was raped, the other slightly older, both stared at by a beaten down clown, female version, ready for transport to Mexico, in the nazifascist day of yore past, Alicante as one location, for a not so quick erotoantropophagic treat.
Nazis throughout,
covered by Marilla Palmer's one traffic cop, on a Nazi brothel refill, in various variations of gross sprache, saying they got me out of Bayside, target homes, families, to death, in the following metro New York areas:
Fort Greene, Brooklyn;
Bowery, Manhattan through Anita Pallenberg, Keith Richard's blowjob whore, or an internal governmental spy against any democratic organizing within same;
Bayside, Queens;
11th @ B, unspecified.
They also organize homicidal possee raids in other democratic countries, trying to urder an FBI agent or two in passing, often with four digit badge cops, same amount on New York Court Security Officers, where anyone can be killed, and betrayed from the inside as well.
At Queens Family Court, where living in a different location that does not lead to a court order did anyway yesterday through either Judge Jolly, or Margaret Mulrooney, Esq, either way, of dark skin, on the 4th floor, P16, Rm 420 there's a calendar sticker stuck on the desk, covered by a high wooden collar, describing exactly who are State Court Officers Associates, as a State Officers Association, all but denied by the people who got me out of Bayside also, on December 5th, 2013 through an illegal eviction and a broken door, no search warrant or grounds for, and stole records, computer, keys to files, account numbers, passwords, all without even an inkling of an investigation in sight, courtesy of the plan to defraud me of commonly held real estate by my mother, Emilia De Cristofaro Maffei:
Doug Bonanno Recording Secretary;
Stephen Mikos 2nd Vice President;
Mary Salisbury Secretary/Treasurer;
Paul Arcati Financial Secretary;
Ted Kantor 1st Vice President;
Dennis W. Quirk President
in reversed order
for the moment, 111 Precinct informers follow me everywhere I go because they miss me, want me medicated, and claim my name publicly for them, saying I'm part of a wider pool of mad people who need to be surveilled even at a shelter where there has been no hot water for two days by other coordinated informers, also accumulated by Obama, but I have been bothered, by a Nissan driving room mate from hell brothel replicants, a continuation of an insertion of imperial Japan, through Alessandra Mussolini on the second floor of also my house, at 196.33 45th Avenue, Apt 2, Flushing New York, 11358. Addressing this issue today, to shelter desk staff, their reply was This is not the Four Seasons Hotel. Yesterday in court same judge-esquire tried to slap me with a Nazi concealed Lega lawyer, the same kind starving people in psych institutions in Northern Italy, after making them die of thirst as well, strapped to a bed, whom I cordially refused after being quizzed by both my mother's Mussolini lawyer, Ogle Andrea, and the Court officer, even though it was none of their business. They did keep me out of court until proceedings were held. Ogle chatted with a face resembling heirs to this particular shelter,within my hearing, oh what can I stop? trying to arrange my disappearance in Overmedicationlandia, saying she couldn't wait to do so, with my mother looking at me disgustedly, and schpieling how I made no sense at all, ever, ever and ever, in particular, because I called the cops.
Thursday, March 06, 2014
New York's True Spirit
1.08PM today: Two kids being walked, handcuffed, by a four digit patrol creep in an NYPD uniform down south east on West Broadway on Canal to who knows where. One of them looked at me, smirked, then looked at the numbers of the filth's badge.
Police van parked on Canal, South side: 8777 lower case 11;
11 is the date I have an illegal eviction case. It was organized by cops.
Both a van facing north on West Broadway: 1954 lower case 09 & a squad car, 4818 lower case 13, good luck number for Italians drove off as I started texting this on my cell to the Police Department's Internal Affairs.
I hope they're safe.
I'll never forget that look.
1.08PM today: Two kids being walked, handcuffed, by a four digit patrol creep in an NYPD uniform down south east on West Broadway on Canal to who knows where. One of them looked at me, smirked, then looked at the numbers of the filth's badge.
Police van parked on Canal, South side: 8777 lower case 11;
11 is the date I have an illegal eviction case. It was organized by cops.
Both a van facing north on West Broadway: 1954 lower case 09 & a squad car, 4818 lower case 13, good luck number for Italians drove off as I started texting this on my cell to the Police Department's Internal Affairs.
I hope they're safe.
I'll never forget that look.
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