having survived the string beans sent by mail, courtesy of the Renna from France, encountered twice in my life, and yet relatives, they thought a drop in my mother.s apartment would set things straight after she invested money in an apartment in France, near Millery, where they reside, breaking a verbal promise after a failed family court trial arranged by klan at the 111, Queens NYPD Domestic Unit division through the intercession of Marilla Palmer.s father, a judge, where, for the nth time, she was not convicted of perjury, to not only pay for my rent, due to difficulty in understanding that she should not break my front door down, dump pubic hair and lint from a non.existent dryer on my floor, poke holes through my clothes, and deflate my bike tires, to get back at me because my father bought me a bike when I was a kid, and boy, what a silver spoon that was, and I still rode one, while she never EVER did, and never EVER would, but to also provide the funds embezzled in the past from commonly held property which she sold unawares to me as a widow without any offspring, this time for living quarters of my choice.
All in all, I had to entertain Franca Renna sit, look at me and say remember when we were at the pool in Napoli? watch her husband or supposed husband leer sexually at their daughter as she strode by after having grafted Jon Stewart.s chin on hers, and spent her time with e glaring and casting disparaging comments on my foot, which not only had she never seen, but seemed to be of a distasteful race for her to introduce to Marine Le Pen, Farage, and Beppe Grillo, all happy populists in Europe who find the time to send their lookalikes to banish me from public libraries, since by race, I couldn.t possibly be a professor, only a local thug there to cause trouble and molest children in Fiction. Having emphasized their devotion to me by trapping a moth between the glass pane and screen of the screen door, I upheld our blood bond for about five minutes, a bond always declared by my mother, never my father, who, when both were alive, the latter having died of natural causes, pronouncing nary a racist sentiment, for some repressing the feeling for decades because in 1959 the Cuban Missile crisis symbolized a new caution to be exerted by all good folk because a new Christ child may have been born, and in the Americas! for the other good folk currently busy transforming herself into a ghoul only the McVey family can relate to, I thought it fit to shoot a text to the FBI, since hey, I had never been in a pool, or in Napoli with Franca Renna of Millery.
and, having survived my mother.s cooking of seedssent by mail by Iolanda Tozzi, blossomed as deformed tomatoes hopped into a sauce, which she smothered with oil, and cooked just for me, since she can.t eat same, now I.m treated by the crew when in the mood to break in my apartment, no sign of forced entry, covered by a Keller Williams in this neighborhood and a Klan Domestic Violence Unit female member of the 111, Queens, that has an overweight male Williams go to 27 misnumbered as 25 since 2010, and left to develop bad habits as such, to have a toddler, female, Japanese, call him grandpa. Their relative.s pictures were also fresh off the print as barefaced klan members, male in black robe, female, face enough to distinguish her as Freddie Kruger, in the latest publication of Southern Poverty Law's most recent report on hate groups, which, in terms of numbers, may as well sink all of New Jersey for their presence in the State, the same state that generated Frank Marzella, also, and for him, my patriarch, who, along with all the others, busy spitting blood, because I.m not dead yet, know that they need to keep their distance from me, in person, by phone, by mail, and in claims, the latter of which they seem not to be able to comprehend, since every single klan amplification passed as police work by cops considering a precinct their base and themselves on military conquest duty of the US, because if they don.t they would have a breakdown covers for them, concentrates them in my general direction to allow the impression of continuity in me of sword or sabre yielding interests belonging only to Marzella offspring, witnessed during one.s cutting of a wedding cake, a marriage failed only to be replaced by a would be social worker, who continues to claim she knows me, never having met me, I write her, never having written her, and may also claim I adopt people, much like the Marzella chronicle, and at 17 when I can.t even determine the age of a child, due to lack of interest, but as a woman, I must, I simply must this lack of the motherhood instinct a lapse of cant into hereticdom!
my mother, busy sequestering the garage command yesterday, refusing to yield it, because my leaving my bike there is grounds for deflating its tires, or a toothe extraction after being injected with anaesthetic in my sleep, post break in, no sign of foced entry, covered by the klan base messes at the 111, who still collude with their very own to only display common key locks at every single Home Depot when I go shopping, even in the middle of Manhattan, on 23rd, in Flushing, they there they switch my natural light fluorescents with warmer to please the Phillips, now Philips team, same who created a Gavrilo Printze nationalist to create future alliances with nazi and aristocrats, as Franz Ferdinand.s assassin, when instead it was an anarchist who upheld the right of a people to a country, much as President Wilson did, and on whose side we were on in WWI which shook the Hapsburg and the Ottoman out of Austria, and Turkey for the birth of new democratic governments determined by the people, like the 1776 Revolutionary war here in the US.
the food plan continues: following pictures of Whole Foods basil taught not to assert itself too much, through perforations of its leaves, burnt leaf tips, cuts in growth areas of the leaf that would cause stress and pain to same when growing, replete of orange sluice that drains when I water it, because who am I to eat pesto, for Frank Marzella, the Capulli, the Cavallo, the Tozzi, the Renna, the De Cristofaro, who will be my relatives regardless of what I state, who cares what I say, who cares what I , ever since my father died one week: Capulli.s response-give her a broom, have her start sweeping; my mother, not too long ago: you can.t escape me, things have changed since your father...
if not she just troubles herself to come downstairs while I do wash, to tell me to put the basin full of her soak for two days in the sink I need clear for the wash water and rinse, and stands there to monitor the execution of the order. I go back to my apartment and shoot another text to the authorities, and, by now, can.t even rise a cock.s crow in terms of my reaction to this filth, so much so Olimpia Marzella and Frank the cult of, thought it opportune for the date commemorating the beginning of the civil war to hop on over my mother.s apartment after hiding their car, and start laughinig at how stupid I am, how they.ll kill me, audibly from her fief upstairs. Tee hee heee...
the blog Alessandra Mussolini wants legal guardianship of
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