No arguments, we’re the Friezas
When baby chillis are growing apparently they are purple and green.
Look at this baby. It is a real life CATERPIE.
Look at these babies, too. Have you ever seen maggots that look like these? I haven’t.
Does this babytalk trigger your maternal feelings? If you are under 35, get an animal friend. Love something that is not yourself. Spend a few years doing stuff that has never been done before with your animal friend(s) and then come back to those feelings.
They’ve gone piggy, which means they’re telling me that the police are being creepy again. If I write it here, you know it. I think the reality of the thing is that the police are being held under a lot of scrutiny as people emerge from faking deaths to tell the truth about the kinds of things that the police get upto, and how they abuse the trust that comes with the responsibility of their positions.
There are alternatives to the police. Report crimes to the military police if you can’t trust the police.
I’m not suggesting they’re without fault though, but as someone who grew up with two very not-nice siblings I can tell you that the only way to defend yourself can sometimes be to find the meanest abuser. And if you are having a really terrible time, have a bribe for the meanest abuser you can find and try to know what they really want.
They often don’t really need or want cash. I like cash and I spend it fast.
Plus I’m into military boys. If you find yourself lost for solutions to abuse, call the military. Report crimes to the local media. The Police do NOT like you to do that – but people deserve to know whats really going on in their towns/districts.
I am constantly reminding myself of this and perhaps you should too: if I am having a hard time, everyone is having a hard time.
Not ours, but um. In theory this is actually my type.
Sexy man keeps doing stuff with his SIBLINGS. THEY EVEN HAVE KIDS. (They defended these ones, cos they thought they were blonde-blonde.) (The British police should be protecting Lady Diana, if you need tips for how, ask me.) (Ideally not making the lives of the people-that-are-trying-to-keep-her-alive difficult would be a great nay – LOVELY – start, leaving the people keeping her alive alone. She’s gonna need ladies in waiting.)
I had to run to this one. The ones on the far left.
The one on the far left had me run back to this one.
BEFORE YOU GET WEIRD: “She’s too young.” is exactly what he’d say about me and he’d mean it. He’d never say no to me ‘fancying’ him but we’d never be able to date. But we’d use each other to make people jealous and that is amongst my many talents. People act VERY stupid when they are jealous.
Sometimes you have to accept running to Gods and Angels when people don’t do their jobs. Avoid the ones that are loyal to me if you have made an enemy of me. I mean it.
Those men were doing service work with child soldiers in the Congo. LIKE SELF SUSTAINING FARMERS, YOU CANNOT SEND NICE PEOPLE TO DO THIS WORK. We need nice people. Nice people make mean people happy. (I can do both but I can also give you suicidal tendencies and skin dred, apparently.) If you are a nice person, choose to be a nice person because that is a tough road.
No but really: people who are exploring ungoverned territories, where there is armed warfare over DIAMONDS – not weed – CANNOT BE NICE PEOPLE.
YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE TO SHOOT A CHILD IN THE FACE IF IT’S BETWEEN YOUR LIFE OR THERES. (I left that typo there, as a gift.)
The police however, should be nice. Ideally little children should be able to run to the police if they are being abused at home, but they don’t trust you after what you did to me. VERY STUPID OF YOU WASNT IT.
Professional and seasoned criminals do not perform acts of crime in THEIR OWN AREA.
Petty criminals that need to steal something because they’re being abused by society – that NEED TO STEAL to fucking SURVIVE, MIGHT.
Domestic rapists do, obviously, operate within their own area because where better than to rape someone than in their own bed? but the police protect those. Why? BECAUSE THEY JOIN IN.
Because the police are involved with ‘non-psychologically-damaging’ sexual slavery. They are not doing undercover work. The police are pre-selected criminals, who have created stories of getting away with committing crimes.
The police do not want goody-two-shoe snitches like me, because I’ll rise up those ranks fast with my self righteousness and I will sooner choose to ruin my ‘friends’ and ‘colleagues’ lives than not snitch on them.
The police have identified that I’ve alerted women that men like this exist outside of movies and started inviting them into perceived sexual games that I would not even-for-money have invited them to play.
People like to call me a prostitute, (they’ve also called me things like ‘dog’, ‘paki’, ‘robot’, etc – I am not a stranger to being bullied and that is bullying, if you are a potential FRIEND – you can JOKE about it. I have a DARK sense of humour.) but I am NOT one. Do not pretend for one moment to anyone that you really think I am, because if I was one: I’D SAY SO MYSELF, EVERYWHERE. SEX WORKERS HAVE RIGHTS and if I were amongst them I’d ADVOCATE. MARY MAGDALENE WAS CALLED A PROSTITUTE. JESUS WAS HER BESTFRIEND. (Actually they had kids, they had kids together, the lineage of which are protected until now.)
The reason I am not a sex worker is because I WOULD GET ATTACHED. IT WOULD FUCK WITH MY HEAD IF I WERE ATTACHED TO SOMEONE THAT WAS FUCKING OTHER PEOPLE.
I do not bring ANYONE back to my home, I haven’t even had acquaintances over and upon hearing that a man (from him) was giving a woman who was taking prescription painkillers alcohol I reported it to the police AND to the military. (But yeah, am I ‘what you get upto’ when you’re meant to be working? Who do you really think is asking? I tweeted the head of the british police.) (It’s not exactly like I can lie about my life, is it.)
Do you remember what life was like a few years ago? It was very different. The police know very well I’m not doing anything illegal, I’m not even able to smoke weed – and they know I SHOULD be because I have a very, very debilitating disability. What they like to do, is create addicts of particular people (the behavioural traits are all there, especially if you’ve been raised with certain difficult familial situations – the police know that the people doing drugs, ALL people doing drugs, are in pain. THEY KNOW.)
There are two shits that probably outweigh their brains (certainly the bits of the human brain that they’ve accessed the use of) sitting in my toilet that refuse to flush. To confirm my suspicions, the last person able to sell me weed had been touched up by the police. The police are responsible for “dangerous drug dealers”. Trust me or trust them but I haven’t anything to lie about, have I – whereas they have p-LENTY to lie about.
It isn’t a power thing, if you assume power by stealing and lying, you will lose it when you are caught. It’s not about me, either. It most certainly shouldn’t be. I have indicated no interest in inviting anyone that aspires to do something like that with their lives into mine, or my space.
My phone has been stolen, a lot of expensive things have been stolen from my flat. I won’t call the police, curses are worse than prison. Mine are anyway.
Guys. Here is the worst crime I’ve got going. I have a stack of recycling. It probably won’t go in the recycling bin cos I’m low on energy, if I’m taking down trash, four flights of stairs, it’s TOUGH GOING. I told your council about it, I also told them about the subtle racism going on when I BUY THINGS, about people working for the Job Centre who had been abusing their access to my personal information and also stalking me, abusing my family remotely (We know you can. We know you did. We know you keep doing it.)
I know you want to pretend that my relatives sending me cash means I shouldn’t be entitled to Universal credit, once again – UNTRUE. VERY VERY VERY UNTRUE.
First of all: I told the Job Centre that my father (abused by the NHS) and my mother (worser abuse by the NHS, might actually have had her body replaced with a stunt double for this – or else why did she not speak to me when I was growing up? Unless it was to abuse me?) gives me cash.
Second of all: I told the Job Centre that they are paying my rent, but that they didn’t want to anymore. I was told that if they stopped paying, that the Job Centre would pay instead. My family are still prepared to pay, so I haven’t asked for that money. I could have lied to catch them out for observing me and my memories by choice, without permission. I didn’t lie. (Bar some toys as a child (gave those back with help.), a butterfly clip from a charity shop that I needed because I felt overwhelmingly ugly (I was abused to think I was ugly. I believed the hairclip could fix it.), a failed attempt at an eyeliner once in London Astoria, and three accidents where I actually just walked out – an eminem cd I left outside the shop, a bottle of glittery fairy dust from ‘present and company’ in Pitshanger lane and a shell necklace and – when I get my compensation, I’ll pay all of that back to those companies – but uh. Are they going to pay for watching my life without permission? Do you know how much I charge a minute for viewing me?
£7.77 a MINUTE. That is IF I’d of consented to you viewing me and my life remotely. I would not consent to Emma Watson viewing my life remotely.
Here’s the truth of things: if there is a World War, this country will lose. This is pure fact. If we send our boys and the police out, they’ll think about me all day if I WANT them to. Which means they are USELESS. My strategy is to honestly tell you my strategy.
The countries loyal to me (my relatives, even the relatives I hate, sadly.) will happily arrange for the people that owe me money that can’t afford to pay me back to be sent to North Korean camps (KIM, come on. Things add up don’t they.) and in exchange maybe we can find some versions of ourselves to have released from there and brought here.
If you ALL gang up on me the end game, I promise, is worse than this. Anyone who knows me will tell you “she keeps her promises.”
Back to how I paid for my lipgloss, lipstick, powderpuff and perfume (your daughters make up cost a lot more than mine.)
It all looks WELL EXPENSIVE. That pearl necklace was a gift I bought for my ‘mother’, from Syria. Ten years ago. That box is a ferrero rocher box. Those shoes are about eleven years old. Those brooches are from tat-shops and second hand shops, except those honey brooches were £3 each. That handbag was about £30? quid (I round up.) That FANCY golden fabric was a dress from a charity shop that I ripped up. That pretty pink tulle fabric is um. Something I purchased off Amazon when I wasn’t on Universal Credit, about… a year ago… That little akatako brooch was a free gift.
I know you like my stuff. I invest in stuff that I won’t throw away. Stuff I’ve dreamed of having for YEARS. It helps me cope with a life of abuse, bullying, having everything I wanted stolen from me, having a broken family etc. You can do whatever you like to make my life difficult but I promise that you couldn’t take what I’m going through on a day to day basis. It took a LIFETIME of a SHIT TIME. That you watch in what feels like a second but felt like an eternity to me.
It is GIFT MONEY. Or shall we make it worse for the police?
It is “I’m sorry you were abused, I’m sorry your life has been ruined, I’m sorry that we abused you so much that everyone you meet, when you try your fucking hardest to work (have you seen me work? It pisses EVERYONE off. Heavy stuff? I’ll lift it like a guy can. Huge black bags of bottles? I’ll throw them all in the bin at once. Huge metal items? Give me five minutes to run them upstairs. Need me to clean a TOILET? WANT ME TO CLEAN VOMIT? WANT ME TO CLEAN A HUMAN SHIT OFF THE FLOOR? Give me five minutes and a cigarette break.)
There are British people on Universal Credit whose parents buy them food, who have savings (under, I think it is 15k? Or is it 5k? You are allowed upto 5k in your account.). Actually, the gesture of being on Universal Credit is important if you want a job
I SHOULD BE ON DISABILITY BENEFITS BUT I’D PREFER UNIVERSAL CREDIT BECAUSE IT MEANS I CAN GET A JOB. BUT THE POLICE DON’T WANT ME TO GET A JOB BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING ADDICTED TO ME.
YOU THINK PEOPLE DON’T KNOW – THEY KNOW. (And they’re realising that if you’re doing it to me, you’re doing it to them.)
CONTROLLING PEOPLE BY MAKING THEM THINK THAT THEY’RE PEDOPHILES BY GIVING THEM SEXUAL ENERGY WHEN THEY WATCH ME GETTING ASSRAPED, OR WHEN THEY WATCH ME GETTING BUSY WITH MEDICAL TOYS IN A DISNEY PRINCESS TENT IS NOT GOING TO WORK.
Do you think you’re a pedophile cos watching a hentai scene fucked you up? Did you get an erection? DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT’S OKAY. I AM THE OLDEST SOUL ON THIS PLANET. CHOOSE TO TELL THE TRUTH. I am enabling you. Child me prefers you got an erection. Child me would’ve been quite happy with adult me having lots of hentai memories because I’m eternal in this body. Do not aspire to an eternal attachment to your body. I spent my life wanting to die but being too lazy to bother doing anything about it. I died a thousand times. Death is great.
My brother did not sexually enjoy that rape – he laughed. He’s my favourite for it. The police later copied him when I called them from that psychiatric ward, I got laughed at when I rang 999 and told them I was being hurt. I stared into space and hung up and went back to my room.
Don’t pretend you could cope with that. There are maybe a few people I’ve known/know that could cope with that and WELL. WE MAKE EACH OTHER LAUGH.
NO YOU WERE NOT “THE ONLY ONE.”
Heathinks I should play Jenova. In anycase this is definitely an interiors direction. What that really means is “If you play Aerith you get more screen time than I do. If you play Tifa you will have fan boys and more screen time than I do.” also it means “you will fancy cloud.” (duh) which also means “fine, play the jealousy game but we’re both good at it.”
“you’re going to have to get a boob job at some point”
“im actually okay with the weirdness of the thing but yes you’re right” (telepathically: YOU GET A BOOB JOB HEATH) (“no.”) (“you thought about it”) (“I thought about thinking about it and it wasn’t a good moment”)
“boundaries that no monopoly card will save you from crossing, they exist”