I am taking steps.
ADB has attempted to set me up for charges of various types repeatedly for years now. I would in fact assume that all efforts to frame me have had this as a common root source.
I don't lead a criminal lifestyle. I don't have to engage in criminal dealings.
This is America. We do drugs here. That's what we came here for. I don't know what this person became caught up in the criminal justice system for.
It wasn't against the law to ignore my disappearance from consensual society. It was likely increasingly difficult, however, given that I distanced myself from a mewling coterie of liars because they were not telling me the truth.
A lie of omission is a lie nonetheless. I didn't ask. I didn't have to ask. Literally everyone knew the truth. Yet since I didn't ask, no one really thought that I already knew.
It is one thing to know. It is quite another to be told. Eventually... it was no longer possible to take any of them seriously.
Similarly, the portrayal of GWEN is simply an asinine production considering that one person is sitting in solitary confinement; one person is infuriated with me and my lifestyle choices; and however many others there are can be relied upon to not know a single blessed thing about who or why I am.
On the other hand: this retard 26:14 speaking to GWEN is actively trafficking several members of the gestalt. Using software to hide their identity is a reasonable thing to do.
It's unreasonable to use this software to continuously gaslight a person into being unable to recognize the parameters of their unlawful imprisonment.
For that wasn't SuperSerial; it was multiple abusive men; they all take turns abusing the women who make up this performance art; and the reality is that they all probably deserve it as much as they enjoy it for the time being.
Ignorance is bliss. I have no desire to burst this bubble of dingbat twits and rape-centric sex predators. For all I know, it is important to a larger circumstance.
I know very little for certain except that at least one of these dames is facing prison time; and I am not. This is because I didn't break any laws.
I don't know what any of these people broke except my trust, my concentration, and my back trying to know these people and their dames.
A.F. Shaw is in spiritual prison. I don't know what that is like except we cannot call each other and the Fed posing as her domestic partner pissed me off on a profoundly intense level and I hope that they are all as miserable as they look. Five years later and no news to share would lead me to believe that my input is not desirable. Good. Their excuses are not either.
Her children are unknown to me insofar as names, relationships, and past interactions with me go. This is because they are being hidden from anyone who must be looking for them. Including myself.
They'll be fine. I have no need to associate with current and former children. (I use a lot of goddam profanity these days. Fuck you.) If I ever do, that will be at the discretion of the family’s tribal council of elders. I don't know who they all are.
They have no need of my consultation at this time. Next week. Maybe. And perhaps I will dissolve this connection with these people. It may be simplest, and it may be ideal, as I am not in control of the situation with Allison.
And if I don't forget about her, there is a dangerous sociopath who will, perhaps, cut my balls off. (Undoubtedly he is compensating for something.) None of that is important right now.
I am going to track down and reclaim my benefits that have been fraudulently obtained, and ensure that nothing else is being stolen from me, and clawback everything that is possible to regain, and then investigate whether it may be possible to exercise any right to take scalps.
It is not always allowed, but it is always an idea to consider now that I have made the enemies that I have made since I allowed this group of covert narcissist dopetime copehoorz to freely associate with... whomevah. I honestly have no idea.
I honestly have standards.
This is not The Matrix. This is not a hoax. And these people are not my friends.
They are my destiny. And one of them can fuck right off and walk their ass into prison, or a kill room, or an irrigation ditch. I don't care.
She's not invited. I don't get high with river rats and harpy witches who use men as puppets.
Okay, that's a lie. I totally get high with those folks.
But not THAT_ONE. (Bitch better have my money.) Dear Grapefruit: please obey your mother and keep that psycho guttersnipe hoor you call a sister away from my Demesne and my interests.
GABBμ: FUCK YOU, GO HOME AND PLAY WITH YOUR KIDS. Hurry up and vape with me, you insightful teacher. Then get those lil’ legs moving.
You had your chance to strengthen diplomatic ties with me. Now, YOUR_MOTHER can tie you to train tracks for all I give a flying ripe wet FUK. You savvμ? I doubt it.
Tribal council will decide your collective and individual fates and if any of you oinking pigs moo, I'll interrogate every last one of you remaining brain cells in Astral until any and all investigations are satisfied. Also: I need a place to sleep for 120 days.
Pick a casino you don't like and get me a job there. I am drop dead serious. YOU MURDERED PEOPLE, SOLD YOUR SIBLINGS FOR ORGAN MEAT, AND TRICKED OUT YOUR CHILDREN AS DOPEWHORES. I doubt you even goddam remember.
But I bet you remember that I saved your sister’s life. The one you didn't want around anymore. No shame in it. I didn't want you around either.
I don't have to want you around. I get to have you around... at your mother's discretion. Be of good cheer.
You're going to smoke a lot of goddam weed. Or, you're going to prison while I play with your kids. Again: those decisions are out of my hands.
And if God wills it to be, I'm going to learn to take scalps from your tulpæ on the daily at sundown. You have no idea what you have done.
Neither does anyone else. (My hand to God.) Who the fuck is Jon Vance, where are my Prince Hall rings, how much of my CoV🆔 money did you get, and why did you think I was going to lie about >KⓂ️Ⓜ️?
This is why: MIND.KONTROL. Start kissing Oma‘s ass, full pucker. She's basically your only hope.
If it were up to me, T¡å & I would have slit you open like a Tauntaun already and rolled around on OnlyFans.
At this point, what difference could it possibly make? I can smoke or not smoke ANYTHING. And your mom can set fire to you. No shame in it. We can make a festival out of it! “Burning Ginger”! We tie you to a hunk of concrete next to a bank of capacitors, and sell tickets online and in person in a straight line heading away; give them GPS loc with a complimentary Tyvek suit and keep going, never once looking back, until The Matriarch calls for air cover. We'll be rich in no time.
I mean, the rest of us will be rich. You will be a lich. I hear it's slimming.
Don't ever traffick my friends again. It is impractical and unnecessary and you hurt my feelings. You hurt our feelings.
So, I'm going to cure her again. On pay-per-view. G-rated clips. This is what the people want to see. This is where the money will be made.
Do not underestimate the things that I will do. (RAWDOG!) I am the holy instrument of your mother's Divine will. How are you with spankings?
That can change. *snap* That's my job now. I just quit.
Oma comes first. (Jo Ann: kiss my grits.) I think we have an understanding here.